Rick Brant - Smugglers' Reef Part 14

"I sure thought I had the connecting link," he said. "I still think so, even if there wasn't any evidence in the papers. It's the only answer that makes any sense."

Scotty nodded. "Keep talking."

"Okay. The Kelsos suddenly arrive at Seaford and move into Creek House. Then the _Albatross_ starts making visits at a time when no fisherman in his right mind would pay calls. So Brad Marbek must be going to Creek House on his way back from the fishing grounds for a good business reason. Right?"

"It figures. Go ahead."

"Tom Tyler spied on Creek House, and he found out something. Red Kelso warned him, and Tyler refused to take the warning. Result: his ship was wrecked. We don't know how yet, but we'll find out. Another thing: Mrs. Tyler was frightened, and Tom Tyler is afraid to talk. What's your guess on that?"

Scotty kicked a pebble out of the path. "Kelso again. When Tyler didn't take the first warning, his trawler was wrecked and he was told that next time something would happen to his family. That's the only threat they could make stick with a man like Tyler. If they threatened him, he'd laugh at them. But if they threatened his wife and little girl ..."

"That's the way I see it, too. Now, what kind of business requires a boat, a house on a secluded part of the beach, and a guard with a rifle?"

"Smuggling," Scotty said flatly.

Smuggling. It was the answer that fitted. Rick didn't know yet what kind of smuggling, but he intended to find out. "If you were the Kelsos, and if you were bringing contraband into Creek House, how would you get it out of Seaford?" he asked.

Scotty thought it over. "Not trucks," he said. "Cap'n Mike said he hadn't seen any trucks calling at Creek House. How about taking it somewhere in a small boat?"

In his mind's eye Rick saw the countryside surrounding Creek House as he had seen it from the air. "Right up Salt Creek," he said excitedly.

"How about that? If they unloaded at the pier when the _Albatross_ came in and then reloaded into a motor dory or some other kind of small boat, they could take it right up Salt Creek to the bridge. Then all they would need would be a truck waiting there. And if they did it late at night, there wouldn't be any traffic to worry about."

"That must be it!" Scotty exclaimed. Then he sobered. "But how are we going to find out if that's the answer?"

There was only one way. "I guess we're just going to have to see for ourselves," Rick said. As they pa.s.sed the dry cleaning establishment, he took the bundle of newspaper-wrapped clothes he had been carrying and dropped them into the night-service opening. A whiff of departed menhaden smote his nose forcefully and he added grimly, "Believe me, it'll be a pleasure!"

CHAPTER VIII

The Old Tower

Rick tightened the last screw that held the searchlight-telescope unit to his camera and looked at it with satisfaction. "I _should_ get a picture," he murmured. There were still quite a few unknown factors.

He knew the theoretical power of the infrared searchlight, but only an actual test would tell whether it gave enough light for the rather slow infrared film emulsion. He was sure that it wouldn't give enough light at its extreme range of eight hundred yards. In all probability, he would not get an image on the film at a distance greater than two hundred.

It was a little strange to think in terms of light. True, infrared was light. But it was not visible to the human eye. The searchlight would cast no beam that could be seen, although anyone close to it would be able to see dimly the hot filament of the bulb.

Another unknown was the ability of the film emulsion to register the reflected infrared rays of his particular searchlight. The emulsion had been designed originally for infrared flash bulbs. The motion-picture film had been made at his special order. It was not a stock item. He wished Professor Gordon were at Spindrift. Gordon could have measured the wave length of the searchlight on the lab equipment.

Rick wasn't skilled enough to use the delicate spectroscopic wave a.n.a.lyzer as yet and Hartson Brant was busy with a problem in the library and couldn't be disturbed. He hoped he would have a chance to ask his father before he tested the camera.

He rechecked the data that had come with the film and started to do some figuring.

Scotty came in just as the phone rang downstairs. Both boys waited expectantly, and in a moment Mrs. Brant called. "It's an out-of-town call, for either one of you."

"We'll take it up here, Mom," Rick called back. He and Scotty raced for the landing.

Scotty reached the phone first. "h.e.l.lo?" He nodded at Rick. "It's Cap'n Mike."

Something had told Rick that the call would have to do with the Seaford case. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon.

Scotty held his hand over the mouthpiece. "He wants to know if we're coming down today. Says he has something to talk over with us."

Rick said quickly, "We'll be down by boat right after lunch."

Scotty relayed the information and hung up. "He didn't say what it was, but he sounded worried. Wanted to know why we didn't come down this morning."

"Afraid of getting smacked with a fresh tuna." Rick grinned. "By the way, did you call Jerry while I was working on the camera?"

"I sure did. He got all excited. I had to calm him down a little before he went and looked up the answer."

Scotty had phoned at Rick's suggestion to find out from Jerry's newspaper sources what action to take in case they found evidence of smuggling at Seaford.

"He said to report it to the nearest Federal authorities, either the Coast Guard or FBI in this area. But he said to be sure we had something more than suspicion to go on."

"A good idea," Rick agreed. "It wouldn't do to get the government all steamed up over nothing. Besides, unless we could prove it, we'd be laying ourselves open to a charge of slander. Well, let's go see if Mom can sc.r.a.pe up a sandwich, and then get going for Seaford."

It was not yet two o'clock when Cap'n Mike greeted the boys as they tied up at the old windmill pier. "Mighty glad you're here. Boys, we've got to really buckle down to business."

"What happened?" Rick asked. He and Scotty fell in step with the old captain and walked toward his shack.

"Tom Tyler's hearing has been set for Sat.u.r.day morning."

Scotty frowned. "Today is Wednesday. That doesn't give us much time."

"I know it don't. But unless we find some answers right fast, Tom will lose his license sure as shooting. And that's not all. He'll find himself charged by the insurance company with deliberately running the _Sea Belle_ on the reef."

Rick found a comfortable seat in the captain's shack and stretched out his legs. "Let's hold a council of war. If we're going to do anything, we'd better have a plan of action." He told Cap'n Mike of their suspicion that the Kelsos and Brad Marbek might be engaged in smuggling and waited for the old man's reaction.

Cap'n Mike rubbed his chin reflectively. "Now! It could be that you boys have something there. It could just be!"

"But what would they be smuggling?" Scotty demanded.

"Shucks. I could make you a list a mile long. Most people think it's only worth while to smuggle things like drugs or aliens, but I tell you many a tidy sum has been made by smuggling things just to escape paying duty on them."

"Suppose they _are_ smuggling," Rick pointed out. "How do we prove it?"

"Catch 'em red-handed," Scotty said. "Red-handed instead of redheaded."

Rick and Cap'n Mike groaned in unison.

It was the decision they had reached the night before, and Rick had given some thought to it before going to sleep. "There are a couple of ways we might do that," he said. "First of all, we know they have to get rid of the stuff somehow. We could keep watch on Creek House until it's moved. The only trouble is, they may be letting it pile up in the hotel. That would mean sticking on the job all day and all night."

"Not practical," Scotty objected. "Mom would object to our staying out all night for maybe a week. Besides, we want to find the answer before the hearing Sat.u.r.day morning."

"Then how about this," Rick continued. "We move in on them when the _Albatross_ pulls up at Creek House to unload."