The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast by Victor Appleton (romantic books to read .txt) 📕

The men were now engaged in heaping more stones on the pile where the lantern had set, and were making so much noise at it that the whispering of the boys could not be heard.

"Any special vessels in view?" asked one of the men, after they had worked away for some time in silence.

"No, but there'll sure be one along before long. We can count on that. Of course, we'll have to keep the light going several nights, maybe, but it'll be worth while."

"It ought to fool 'em, all right," went on Hemp Danforth. "If it hadn't been that Nate Duncan tripped us up, and didn't come across with that information we wanted, we wouldn't have all this trouble."

For a moment Joe seemed to stiffen as he heard the name, and then, in a hoarse whisper, he turned to Blake and said:

"Did you hear that? These men know my father. They used his name."

"Yes, but keep quiet!" urged Blake, for Joe had raised his voice. "We don't want them to know we're here."

"But they know my father, Blake," went on Joe, using more caution, however, in his tones. "I must speak to them. Maybe they were associated with him in lighthouse work, and this may be some new patent lantern they're trying. Maybe my father hasn't gone to China at all, and these men can tell where he is."

Joe made a move as though to leave the screened hiding place and approach the men.

"No--don't go!" whispered Blake, hoarsely, holding his chum back. "Stay here, Joe. Don't speak to those men!"

"But they have something to do with my father."

"No matter; do as I say, please! Believe me, Joe, I can't explain now, for I promised I would not. But you'll understand--later. Don't approach those men!"

"Why not?"

"Because--well, I can't tell you!"

"Then I'm going!" declared Joe, half fiercely. "Blake, I'm sure you're keeping something from me. I've suspected it for some time, for you've looked at me in a queer fashion when I spoke of my father. Now what is it?"

"Really, Joe, it's nothing--that is----"

"Yes, it is something. If you don't tell me I'll go out there and take the consequences!"

Joe broke from Blake's restraining grasp as he whispered this, and was about to dash for the bushes, when Hemp Danforth, dashing down a stone he was raising, cried out:

"Boys, you can't fool me! There is some one here, and they're spying on us. I'll make 'em sorry for it! I hear whispering, and I've felt right along as though unseen eyes were looking at me. Now I'm going to find out who it is!"

Once more he started for the place where Blake and Joe were concealed. This time it could be seen that he would not be swerved from his quest.

"Come on, Joe. We've got to run for it!" exclaimed Blake, and, not caring now how much noise they made--being under the necessity of betraying their presence--they dashed back in the direction they had come.

"Here they are!" yelled Hemp, as he ran after them, tearing through the underbrush. "I knew we were being spied on! Come along, men!" he yelled.

Blake and Joe looked back as they got to the path that led along the cliff, below which was the rolling ocean. They had a glimpse of the big man racing after them, several others in his wake.

"Stop!" commanded Hemp Danforth. "Hold on, you spies!"

"Don't answer," advised Blake. "Save your breath for running, Joe."

"Um!" grunted his chum.

They were fleet of foot, and had a start. They were also lighter in weight than was their pursuer. In a short time they were well ahead.

"But he's still coming on!" declared Blake.

"We've got to give him the slip," declared Joe. "Can't you see some side path we can take?"

"Yes, here's one," was the panting answer, and at that moment Blake parted some low bushes and jumped into a sort of cross path, almost concealed from view. "Come on, Joe!"

His chum lost no time in following, and for a few moments, at least, they were comparatively safe.

"Now, Blake," said Joe, when they felt that they could slacken their pace to get their breath, "I want you to tell me that secret!"

Blake Stewart was at a loss. He did not know what to do, and, though he had been expecting to hear this request at almost any time, he was no more prepared for it now than he would have been had it been made directly after Blake learned of Mr. Duncan's flight.

"Well?" asked Joe, suggestively, when his chum did not answer. "Aren't you going to tell me?"

"What makes you think I have a secret, Joe?" Thus Blake tried to temporize, so that he might think what was best to do.

"Oh, I'm sure you have," declared Joe, "and you might as well tell me now as any time, for I'm bound to find it out. I don't believe there's any more danger now," and he paused to look back along the almost hidden path they had followed. "I can't see anything of that man," he added. "We gave him the slip, all right.

"Now go ahead, Blake, and end my suspense. I've seen for some time that you've been keeping something back from me. I don't know what it is, but it's something about my father. And I appreciate why you're doing it. You want to spare my feelings."

"That's it!" cried Blake, eagerly, glad of any chance to put off what he regarded as a most unpleasant duty. "It is for your sake, Joe, that I have been keeping silent, and I wish you would go on letting me do so. Believe me, if I thought it well for you to know I'd tell you."

"Is it--is it that he isn't my father, after all?" faltered the lad, following a silence in which all sound of pursuit had died away. The boys felt that they were safe now. "Do you mean to say, Blake, that this man whom I've traced after such hard work, isn't any relation to me--haven't I any folks, after all?"

"No, Joe, it isn't that at all. He's your father, as far as I know, and I will admit there is some secret about him. But I'd rather not tell you."

"I want to know it," insisted Joe, firmly.

"If you'll only wait," went on his chum, "it may all be explained when--when he comes back. Then there won't be any need of a secret. Better wait, Joe."

"No, I've got to hear it right away. If it's any disgrace--and it must be, or you'd be willing to tell me--if it's any disgrace, it's my duty to stand up for my father when he isn't here. I'm his son, and I have a right to know about it, and protect his name as much as I can. Tell me, Blake."

The other hesitated a moment. If he told, it would be, he felt, breaking his promise made to the lighthouse keeper, but then the promise was not so sacred that it could not be broken. It was given under a sort of discretion, and Blake knew that he would be allowed to reveal what had been said if he felt that it was best to do so. The time now seemed to have come to do this. He took a sudden resolve.

"All right, Joe," he said, "I'll tell you. There is a secret about your father. I suppose you know what sort of men those were that we just got away from?" and he nodded in the direction of the hill down which they had raced.

"I've been puzzling my head about them, Blake," came the answer, "and all I can say is that they must be either men who are experimenting with a new kind of light, or else they are--wreckers!"

"That's it, Joe. They are wreckers, and they're plotting to lure some vessel on the rocks by means of false lights."

"The scoundrels!" burst out Joe. "We've got to spoil their wicked game."

"That's what we have. We'll tell the police, or some one in authority."

"But before we do," broke in Joe, "tell me about my father, though I begin to suspect now," and there was a look of sadness on his face.

"I presume you pretty well know what is coming," said Blake, slowly, "now you have heard what those men said. The whole amount of it is, Joe, that your father is suspected of having been in league with those wreckers--that he helped to lure vessels on these same rocks."

"My father a wrecker!" cried Joe. "It can't be--I won't believe it!"

"I didn't want to either, when I heard it," said Blake, "and maybe, now that I've told you, we can work together and find some way of proving him innocent."

"That's it!" cried the son. "Oh, if he were only here to help us! I wonder why he went away?"

"The lighthouse keeper said," began Blake, "that your father left because he feared to be arrested. And the day after he went away an officer did come for him," and he proceeded to relate what Mr. Stanton had said.

"I don't believe it!" cried Joe, when the account was finished. "Of course, I don't remember my father, and, naturally, I don't know what sort of a man he was, but I don't believe he was a wrecker!"

"And I don't either!" added Blake. "Here's my hand on it, Joe, and we'll do our best to find out the truth of this thing," and the two chums clasped hands warmly.

"But it's mighty strange what those men said about him," went on Joe. "To think that we would stumble on the wreckers right at work. We can lead the police to the very place where they have set up their false light."

"Maybe we can do better than that, Joe."

"How?"

"Why, we may be able to help the police catch these same fellows."

"That's so. Have you a plan, Blake?" asked his chum, eagerly, as they walked on along the path.

"Not yet, but we'll make one up. But, Joe, did you notice just what it was that big wrecker said?"

"Not exactly; I was too excited when I heard them mention my father's name."

"Well, they as much as said that your father had refused to give them the information they wanted, and this spoiled their scheme. That might go to show that they made offers to him to have him help them in their wicked plans, and he refused. That made them turn against him, and----"

"I see, Blake! You mean that, maybe, after all, he left because he was afraid of the wreckers, and not because he had done anything wrong?"

"That's it, Joe. Of course, it's all guess work on our part, so far, and I think the best thing we can do is to go to the lighthouse and tell Mr. Stanton all we've seen and heard. He may be able to advise us, even if he is an old man. At any rate, he'll know what police or government officers to go to, so we can catch these wreckers."

"That's right, Blake. Come on. I guess we can go down on the beach now. Those fellows won't venture out into the open after us, I don't believe."

"No, they seem to have given up