The "Dock Rats" of New York Part 30

"What are you getting at? I don't like this cross-questioning."

"That's my idea, Ballard. I don't think you like this cross-questioning, and I think further there is a good reason for you not liking it."

"If you've anything to say to me, spit it."

"When did you first show up on the coast?"

"Who are you? What's your name?" retorted Ballard.

"My name is Sol Burton,"

"Ah, you are Burton; yes, I've heard about you!"

The detective used the words, "I've heard about you," in a very meaning tone.

"You've heard about me?"

"Yes, I've heard about you," came the response.

"What have you heard about me?"

"Oh, that's all right; your name is Sol Burton. Yes, yes, I've heard about you."

The declaration was reiterated in a tone of more aggravating significance.

"See here, Ballard, I want you to tell me what you mean."

"I've heard about you."

"What have you heard about me?"

"It's all right; I tell you I've heard about you. Yes, yes, your name is Burton; that's the man; I've heard about you."

Our readers can readily understand that the constant repet.i.tion of the declaration in a meaning tone was, under the circ.u.mstances, very aggravating, and Sol Burton lost his temper, his eyes flashed with anger, and his face became white, as he said:

"If you do not tell me what you mean, I'll knock you down!"

"I reckon you won't knock me down!"

"Will you tell me what you mean?"

"I'll tell you I've heard about you, and so I have; that is enough."

"See here, Ballard, it won't do for you to quarrel with me!"

"I don't care who I quarrel with!"

Burton advanced and whispered:

"I might come 'Quaker' on you, and give you a bad name."

"You can do just as you choose. I am not asking odds of you."

"I've my suspicions of you, Ballard."

Burton spoke in a hoa.r.s.e whisper; the man was excited and trembling with rage and irritation.

It is possible a tragic denouement might have followed the dialogue, had there not come just at that moment a startling interruption to the impending quarrel.

Again there came the signal cry: "Lights ahead!" and all hands ran eagerly to the rail to study the character of the distant craft.

All was silent watchfulness and expectancy as the two boats approached nearer and nearer across the dark waters. Suddenly there shot up high into the air a rocket and when far toward the clouds, a "bomb burst in air," and there followed a shower of many colored lights.

At once there was great excitement on board the "Nancy." Sol Burton had not stopped to finish his threatening talk with our hero, but all was bustle and excitement and work.

The boats were prepared for launching, and the ship's course was changed, and our hero knew that the, long-expected smuggler had arrived.

Soon the two vessels approached each other; additional signals were exchanged, and the real purpose of the voyage was unfolded.

The smuggler kept upon her course, under close reefed sails, but her crew was busy casting certain curious looking packages into the sea.

The boats from the "Nancy" were launched and manned, and were pulled away toward floating objects that had been cast upon the water.

Our hero was in one of the boats, and soon his crew came upon one of the floating objects and it was hauled into the boat.

One of the methods and mysteries was explained; the floating objects were large rubber and guttapercha bags, water-tight and unsinkable, and in these waterproof sacks was packed the contraband merchandise.

Four boats were at work, and within a couple of hours no less than thirty-three of these sacks were put on board the "Nancy," containing thousands and thousands of dollars worth of goods that were never intended to pay duty to good old Uncle Sam.

All the bags were put on board, and the "Nancy" was ready to run into the bay and land her contraband cargo.

The detective expected she would run back on the course over which she had come out, but such was not the fact; on the contrary she lay to until all the goods were stowed below.

Spencer Vance had worked like a trooper, and for the time being, was the most active smuggler of them all, but later on he was brought face to face with his peril.

Our hero had finished all he had been called upon to do, and was standing leaning against the mast, when Ike Denman approached and said:

"Come aft, Ballard, I've a few words to exchange with you."

The detective obeyed with alacrity; coming to a halt near the cabin-way, Denman said:

"Ballard, you have proved yourself a good hand. I like you, but I've a statement to make; you can't share in the profits of tonight's work unless you become one of us."

"How's that, sir?"

"We are a regular organization; the crew of this boat is bound to secrecy by oaths and obligations, and I am about to give you the privilege of becoming one of us."

"The detective realized his peril. He saw that the game had opened, that Renie's warnings were about to be fulfilled but he was cool and easy and determined. It was a terrible moment, but he was as resolute as ever and replied: