Rick Brant - Smugglers' Reef Part 31

"Can't say. Ordinarily, I'd think the police would call for the Coast Guard to go intercept them. But we're not sure of the ident.i.ty of the s.h.i.+p."

"We missed there," Scotty said. "Has it occurred to you that we're going to be the star witnesses if this comes to trial?"

Rick shook his head. "Not necessarily. If the State Police catch Brad and the Kelsos with the goods, they won't need us for anything. But if they identify the s.h.i.+p that supplied them, they may need us there."

"Unless it's a foreign s.h.i.+p."

"What do you mean?"

"They were outside the twelve-mile limit," Scotty pointed out. "That's the high seas. I'm not up on my international law, but I doubt if the United States could do much about something done by a foreign s.h.i.+p on the high seas."

"Never thought of that," Rick admitted.

He dropped Scotty at the landing, then turned the launch back to Spindrift. Once in his own room, however, he was too restless to do anything, even to sleep. He walked out to the lab building and sat down on the steps, looking out to sea. It was a beautiful morning.

Soon as Scotty got back he would suggest a swim.

In a short time he looked up to see Scotty approaching from Whiteside.

He watched critically as Scotty swung wide and banked into the approach over the lab building, then settled smoothly to the gra.s.s. He nodded approval. Scotty was a natural flier. He excelled at anything requiring a high degree of co-ordination between body and mind.

Rick walked to meet him. "What kept you?"

Scotty climbed out and they staked the plane down. "Jerry picked me up on the way to the airport. We talked for a while. He had the film and was taking it into New York."

Both of them walked with less spring in their steps than usual.

Knowing that nothing was in sight but waiting was a letdown after the activity of the predawn hours. But Captain Douglas had spoken and that was that.

"Wonder if we'll ever be able to prove that the Kelsos wrecked the _Sea Belle_?" Rick mused. "Even if the police catch them cold on a smuggling charge that won't necessarily tie them up with Captain Tyler."

"That's right." Scotty bent and plucked a sprig of mint from the patch next to the house and chewed it absently. "But we'll be able to show motive and method once they're in jail and Tyler can talk. And with Captain Killian's evidence, that will clear Tyler anyway. Why should we worry whether the Kelsos get caught for that as long as he's cleared? We'll have them on the smuggling charge."

"I guess so." Rick felt tired. "How about a quick swim? Then we can crawl into bed and take a nap."

"Good idea. What are we waiting for?"

The water was too good to abandon after a few quick dips, however, and they alternately swam and lazed in the sun until lunchtime. Only after a good lunch of several sandwiches and almost a quart of milk apiece did they feel like taking a nap. Then Rick said, "No word. I guess that does it. Either Brad is ignoring our flying over him or he has dumped his cargo. I'd like to know which. Otherwise, he would have put into Creek House long ago."

"Looks that way. But I'm too drowsy to care. Go on to bed and let me do likewise. We'll know soon enough what happened."

Rick undressed, drew his shades and crawled in, luxuriating in the comfort of cool sheets. But it wasn't easy to drop off to sleep. His active mind persisted in going over and over the events at Seaford like a record stuck in a groove, but after a while he slept.

He didn't even hear the phone when it rang. Scotty had to wake him.

Then, drowsily, he and Scotty went down the hall.

"It's Mr. Barrows," Mrs. Brant called from below.

"I'll take it," Rick said. He picked up the phone. "This is Rick, Duke."

"Bad news," the editor said. "It's all over, and nothing came out of it."

Rick woke up sharply. "What? But, Duke, we saw them load!"

"Tough luck. Brad came in at the usual time and Douglas was waiting for him. They went over that s.h.i.+p from stem to stern and didn't turn up a single thing."

Rick realized that it was dark outside. Mother had let them sleep right through dinner.

"But the crates in the marsh," he exclaimed. "How about those?"

"Gone," Duke said. "There wasn't a thing but flattened reeds and muddy water."

Scotty had been holding his ear close to the phone. "Brad must have jettisoned his cargo," he said. "We didn't think he would."

Duke heard him. "Was that Scotty? Well, Rick, if the pictures prove out, we'll know he must have thrown the stuff overboard. Captain Douglas has faith in you. He says not to be discouraged."

"Thanks," Rick said hollowly.

"Oh, one other item of news. I talked with the agent who rented the Creek House to the Kelsos. They've given him notice that they're moving out next Sat.u.r.day. What do you think about that?"

Rick's shoulders slumped. "Unless they try to pull something between now and then, we're sunk. Duke, do you realize this may have been their last load? We might have scared them off with flying over Brad and then having the police raid them."

"I'm afraid so, too. But Captain Douglas says they seemed pretty smug.

They may try it again. By the way, Jerry says the film will be ready at five tomorrow night. I'll send him into New York early tomorrow and he can do a few errands for me, then pick up the film on his way home."

"Thanks, Duke," Rick said. He replaced the receiver and looked at Scotty. "Did you get all that?"

Scotty nodded silently.

Mrs. Brant called from downstairs. "I saved dinner for you, boys. Want to come get it now?"

"Right away," Rick called. "Thanks, Mom."

He and Scotty slipped robes over their pajamas and walked slowly down the stairs. Neither of them felt much like eating after the phone call. They had, with undue optimism, written the case off as practically closed. But now everything seemed as far from a solution as ever.

CHAPTER XVIII

Brendan's Marsh

Rick stared out the window at the gathering dusk. "I'd like to know what's taking Jerry so long with those pictures," he grumbled. "He should have been here an hour ago."

Scotty had been trying to read a book. He gave it up as a bad job and joined Rick at the window. "Maybe he stopped for dinner," he said.

"I'll put ground gla.s.s in his cake next time he comes to dinner if he has," Rick threatened.

Jerry had phoned before leaving for New York earlier in the day. After consultation with Duke, they had agreed that Jerry would bring the pictures directly to the island, and that Rick and Scotty would leave the boat at the landing for him to use.