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Higginbotham looked about desperately, as if seeking a way of escape.
But he was cut off at the rail by the guard from the Nark and the boys, while the others had swung about him in a half-circle, barring the way. Seeing an attempt to flee would be futile, he pulled himself together, not without dignity, and faced Captain Folsom and Lieutenant Summers. It was to the former that he addressed himself.
"You've caught me," he said. "The game is up."
He folded his arms.
"What does this mean?" demanded Lieutenant Summers, taking a hand in the proceedings. "Captain, who is this man?"
"That fellow Higginbotham, about whom I told you," said Captain Folsom in an aside. "The man who escaped from the Brownell place."
"Ah." Lieutenant Summers saw the light. He addressed Higginbotham sternly:
"You and your men, masquerading in the uniforms of officers and sailors of the U. S. N.," he said. "You will pay heavily for this, my man. Such masquerade is severely punished by the government."
Higginbotham started to reply, but Frank had an idea. Not waiting to hear what the other had to say, he impulsively stepped forward and plucked Captain Folsom's sleeve.
"That man is trying to delay us, Captain," he whispered. "I am sure of it. He wants the men in the small boat to escape. I'll bet, sir," he said excitedly, "that whoever is in that boat is the Man Higher Up whom you are so anxious to capture."
Captain Folsom was struck by the cogency of Frank's reasoning. Signing to him to fall back, he whispered to Lieutenant Summers. The latter listened, then nodded. He stood silent a moment, thinking.
"I have it," he said. "We'll call another boat from the Nark to go to the a.s.sistance of young Hampton."
Placing a whistle to his lips, he blew a shrill blast. A hail came from Jackson, second in command of the Nark, at once. Lieutenant Summers ordered his a.s.sistant to come aboard with four men. Waiting the arrival of the other boat, Frank and Bob grew fidgetty and spoke in whispers, while the two officers questioned Higginbotham in low voices.
"All right," said Frank to Bob, "I'll ask him."
Approaching the officers, he stood where Captain Folsom's eyes fell upon him, and the latter, seeing he wanted a word with him, stepped aside.
"Captain," said Frank, eagerly, "Bob and I feel that we have got to go to help Jack. Can't you persuade Lieutenant Summers to let us accompany the party?"
The other smiled slightly, then once more whispered to Lieutenant Summers. The latter looked at Frank, and nodded. Frank fell back to Bob's side, content.
They had not long to wait, before the boat bearing Jackson and four men from the Nark nosed up to their own craft at the landing stage, and Jackson reported to his commander on deck.
"Jackson," Lieutenant Summers said to his young petty officer, "I want you to take command here with your four men. Disarm these fellows. I do not believe they will show trouble, but it will be well to let them know right at the start that the Nark has them under her guns. I am going to young Hampton's a.s.sistance."
Jackson saluted, and called his men aboard. Without more ado, Lieutenant Summers, who was in haste to be off, turned to descend to the boat when once more Frank halted him:
"We are unarmed, Lieutenant," he said.
"Ah. Just a moment. Jackson!"
"Yes, sir."
"I shall order these men to give up their weapons. Stand ready, and keep them covered. Now, my men," he added, addressing the crew; "I am going to place you under arrest. I want you to advance one at a time and submit to being searched and disarmed. I warn you to submit without resistance, for if you do not, the Nark yonder has orders to open fire, and you cannot escape. Now, one at a time."
Sullenly, unwillingly, but overawed, the men advanced. While the sailors from the Nark kept their automatics in their hands, ready for action, Jackson searched each man in businesslike fas.h.i.+on. The weapons thus taken away--regulation automatics, as well as a miscellaneous a.s.sortment of bra.s.s knuckles and a few wicked daggers, all marking the men as city toughs--were placed in a heap. Before the work had been completed, Lieutenant Summers, anxious to depart, signed to the boys to arm themselves. They complied.
"Now, let us go," said he.
The boys and their two young sailor companions tumbled into the outside boat, while Captain Folsom and Lieutenant Summers delayed for another word with Jackson. Then, they, too, descended. The oars dipped, and the boat sped away.
All this had taken only a very short s.p.a.ce of time. However, the boat bearing the fugitives no longer could be seen, although that carrying Jack--or, at least, what they took to be his boat--was still offsh.o.r.e, though close to it. It looked like a little dark blot some distance ahead, nearing the landward base of the peninsula. On that horn of land, all felt a.s.sured, the fugitives had landed, and along it were making their way to sh.o.r.e.
Jack's boat now reached the sh.o.r.e. Lieutenant Summers, gazing through the nightgla.s.s, spied Jack and his quartette leap to land. Then he searched the spit of land through the gla.s.s. An exclamation broke from him.
"Young Hampton is just in time," he said. "I can see three figures running along the peninsula towards him. Pull your hardest, lads, and we shall soon be up with them."
The two sailors and Bob and Frank bent to the oars with a will, and the boat fairly leaped through the water. Their backs were towards the land and they could not see the development of events, but Lieutenant Summers, realizing, perhaps, the anxiety of the chums for their comrade, gave them occasional bulletins. Jack and his party had taken cover, apparently, for they could no longer be seen. Lieutenant Summers was of the opinion, however, that their presence was known to the enemy. It could not well have been otherwise, as the latter must have seen Jack's manoeuvre to cut them off.
Suddenly a half dozen shots rang out.
"Pull your best lads. Almost there," cried Lieutenant Summers, who was in the bow. "Now. One more big pull and we'll be up on the sand."
There was a soft jar. The boat's nose tilted upwards. Then, disregarding footgear, all leaped overside into the shallow water, and six pairs of hands ran the boat well up on the sand.
"This way," cried Lieutenant Summers, das.h.i.+ng ahead.
The others followed on the run. No further shots had been fired. But the sounds of panting men engaged body to body in the brush came to them. As he ran, Lieutenant Summers cast the rays of a powerful hand light ahead. Right at the edge of the trees the two parties were engaged. But the fugitives were outnumbered, five to three, and, as the reinforcements against them arrived, the struggle came abruptly to an end.
The first upon whom Lieutenant Summer's light fell was Jack, astride a form. Then the light fell on the fallen man's features and a cry broke from Bob's lips.
"Why, it's Mr. McKay."
CHAPTER XXV
MCKAY'S STORY
After all, the Mystery Was Easily Explained; The Mystery as to the ident.i.ty of the man behind the operations of the liquor-smugglers. The explanation of the whole situation was unfolded by Captain Folsom several nights later at the Temple home. He had come from New York City at the invitation of Mr. Temple, whose curiosity was aroused by the tales of the boys, and who wanted to hear a connected account of events. In this matter, Captain Folsom was willing to oblige, more especially by reason of the aid given the government forces by the boys.
J. B. McKay was the Man Higher Up. Higginbotham was his agent. This man, one of the wealthiest realty operators in New York, was a born gambler. He could never resist the impulse to engage in a venture that would bring him big returns on his investment. In his realty operations, this quality had earned him the name of "Take a Chance"
McKay.
When the Eighteenth Amendment to the Federal Const.i.tution was adopted--the prohibition amendment--he watched developments. He felt certain that liquor smuggling would spring up. In this he was not mistaken. New York became a vast center of the traffic.
And as he beheld the great sums made by the men bringing liquor into the country in defiance of the law, the thought came to McKay of how these individual operators might be united by a strong and ruthless man, their methods improved, and a vast fortune made by the man in control. Thereupon he set about obtaining this control.
It was McKay, said Captain Folsom, who organized the motor truck caravan which brought liquor across the Canadian border into Northern New York to a distributing center, a night's run to the South, whence it was sent across the land by express as china and gla.s.sware from a china and gla.s.sware manufactory. This factory was mere camouflage. A plant did exist, but it was nothing more than a storage warehouse at which the motor trucks unloaded their cargoes.
Police protection was needed, of course, and police protection McKay obtained. The factory so-called was in the open country, on the outskirts of a tiny village. The local authorities were bribed. All along the route from Canada, money was liberally spent in order to prevent interference from police. Big cities en route were avoided.
The Highway of Grease ("grease" meaning bribery) led around all such, for in them usually the police were incorruptible.
It was McKay, too, who organized the airplane carriage of liquor from Canada to points outside New York City and to Stamford, Conn. One of his planes only recently, explained Captain Folsom, had fallen in a field near Croton-on-Hudson, with a valuable cargo of liquor aboard after a night's flight from Canada.