“There must be some other way that we couldn't see,” Joe said. “What say we hang around here for a while and find out what we can?”
Tony caught the Hardys' enthusiasm and agreed to keep the motorboat in the vicinity of the Cliff.
“That fellow may be keeping his eye on us and we don't want him to know that we're watching the place,” Frank observed. “Let's run back to the bay and cruise up and down a while, then return.”
Chet sighed. “I'm glad none of you argued with that armed man.”
“Right,” Joe replied. “As it is, he must think we were simply out for a cruise and wandered into that tunnel by mistake.”
“Yes,” his brother agreed. “If he'd known we're hunting for Dad, he might have acted very differently.”
In the late afternoon Tony took the Napoli back to the suspected shore spot. Keeping well out from the breaking waves, he cruised along the cliff. The boys kept a sharp eye on the location of the tunnel. As the boat passed it they were just able to distinguish the narrow opening in the rocks.
“I won't be able to go in there after a while,” Tony remarked. “The tide's coming in. At high tide I'll bet that tunnel is filled with water.”
Suddenly Tony swung his craft so hard to the right that the other boys lost their balance.
“Sorry, fellows,” he said. “Saw a logâoh!”
He shut off his engine in a flash and leaned over the gunwale. His companions picked themselves up and asked what had happened.
“Propeller started to foul up with some wire on that log.” Tony began to peel off his clothes. “Get me some pliers, will you?”
Frank opened a locker and found a pair. Taking them, Tony dived overboard. A minute later he reappeared and climbed in. “I'm lucky,” he said. “Just plain lucky. Two seconds more and all that wire would have been wound around the prop and the log would have knocked it off.”
“Good night!” Chet exclaimed. “It would have been a long swim home.”
Joe slapped Tony on the back. “Good work, boy. I'd hate to see the
Napoli
out of commission.”
Chet and Frank hauled the log aboard, so it would not damage any other craft. “This is a fence post with barbed wire!” Chet said. “Wowee! It's good you spotted that log, Tony.”
Tony dressed, then started the engine. He cruised around for more than an hour, but the boys saw no sign of life about the base of the cliff. They could see the Pollitt house, but to their amazement no lights appeared in it as twilight came.
“How much longer do you think we should stay out here?” Chet asked. “I'm getting hungry.”
“I have a few pretzels and a candy bar, but that's not much for four of us,” Joe remarked.
“Aha!” crowed Tony. “I have a surprise for you! I stowed away a little food before we took off.” With that he pulled a paper bag from the locker and passed each boy a large sandwich, a piece of chocolate cake, and a bottle of lemon soda.
“You deserve a medal,” Chet remarked as he bit into a layer of ham and cheese.
“You sure do!” Frank agreed. “I think we should stay right here for a while and watch. It's my guess the smugglers will be on the job tonight. Don't forget that the
Marco Polo
is docking tomorrow morning.”
“I get it,” said Chet. “If she lays offshore or steams in slowly, it'll give Ali Singh a chance to drop the stolen drugs overboard to Snattman.”
“Correct,” said Frank.
Tony looked intently at the Hardys. “Is it your idea to keep Snattman from meeting Ali Singh? But what about your father? I thought we came out here to get a line on how to rescue him.”
The brothers exchanged glances, then Joe said, “Of course that's our main purpose, but we hope that we can do both.”
Twilight deepened into darkness and lights could be seen here and there through the haze. The cliff was only a black smudge and the house above was still unlighted.
Suddenly the boys heard a muffled sound. Tony slowed the
Napoli
and they listened intently.
“Another motorboat,” Tony whispered.
The sound seemed to come from near the cliff. Straining their eyes in that direction, the four were at last able to distinguish a faint moving light.
“Can you head over that way, Tony?” Frank asked in a low voice. “And could you take a chance on turning off our lights?”
“Sure. Here goes. The wind's blowing from the land, so our engine won't be heard from the shore.”
The boys were tense with excitement as the
Napoli
moved slowly toward the light. As the boat crept nearer the cliff, they could barely distinguish the outline of a motorboat. The craft seemed to be making its way carefully out of the very face of the cliff.
“It must have come from that tunnel!” Joe whispered to Frank.
“Yes.”
The
Napoli
went closer, in imminent danger of being discovered or of being washed ashore onto the rocks. Finally the other boat slowed to a crawl. Then came the faint clatter of oars and low voices. The motorboat had evidently met a rowboat.
The next moment, with an abrupt roar, the motorboat turned and raced out to sea at an ever-increasing rate of speed.
“Where can it be going?” said Tony, in amazement. “Out to meet the
Marco Polo?”
“Probably,” Frank replied, “and we'd never catch it. I wonder where the rowboat's going.”
The four boys waited in silence for several minutes. Then the rattle of oars came again. This time the sound was closer. The rowboat was coming toward them!
“What'll we do now?” Tony asked.
“Turn off your engine,” Frank whispered. Tony complied.
Through the gloom suddenly came snatches of conversation from the rowboat. “âa hundred poundsâ” they heard a man say harshly, and then the rest of the sentence was lost. There was a lengthy murmur of voices, then, “I don't know. It's riskyâ”
The wind died down just then and two voices could be heard distinctly. “Ali Singh's shareâ” one man was saying.
“That's right. We can't forget him,” the gruff voice replied.
“I hope they get away all right.”
“What are you worryin' about? Of course they'll get away.”
“We've been spotted, you know.”
“It's all your imagination. Nobody suspects.”
“Those boys at the houseâ”
“Just dumb kids. If they come nosin' around again, we'll knock 'em on the head.”
“I don't like this rough stuff. It's dangerous.”
“We've got to do it or we'll end up in the pen. What's the matter with you tonight? You're nervous.”
“I'm worried. I've got a hunch we'd better clear out of here.”
“Clear out!” replied the other contemptuously. “Are you crazy? Why, this place is as safe as a church.” The man laughed sardonically. “Haven't we got all the squealers locked up? And tonight we make the big cleanup and get away.”
“Well, maybe you're right,” said the first man doubtfully. “But stillâ”
His voice died away as the boat entered the tunnel
Joe grabbed Frank's arm. “Did you hear that? All the squealers locked up? I'll bet Dad's one of them and he's a prisoner somewhere around here.”
“And this is the hide-out of Snattman and the other smugglers he was after,” Frank added.
“I don't like this,” Chet spoke up. “Let's leave here and get the police.”
Frank shook his head. “It would take so long we might goof the whole thing. Tell you what. Joe and I will follow that rowboat through the tunnel!”
“How?”
“On foot or swim. I don't think it's deep along the edges.”
“You mean Chet and I will wait here?” Tony asked.
“No,” Frank answered. “You two beat it back to Bayport and notify the Coast Guard. Tell them we're on the track of smugglers and ask them to send some men here.”
“And tell them our suspicions about Ali Singh and the
Marco Polo,”
Joe added. “They can radio the captain to keep an eye on him.”
“Okay,” said Tony. “I'll do that. First I'll put you ashore.”
“Don't go too close or you'll hit those rocks and wreck the boat,” Frank warned. “Joe and I can swim to shore. Then we'll work around into the tunnel and see what we can find. If we do discover anything, we'll wait at the entrance and show the men from the Coast Guard where to go when they get here.”
Tony edged the boat in as close to the dark shore as he dared without lights. Quickly Frank and Joe took off their slacks, T shirts, sweaters, and sneakers. They rolled them up, and with twine which Tony provided, tied the bundles on top of their heads. Then they slipped over the side into the water. The
Napoli
sped off.
Frank and Joe were only a few yards from the rocks and after a short swim emerged on the main-land.
“Well, here goes!” Joe whispered, heading for the tunnel.
CHAPTER XII
The Secret Passage
CAUTIOUSLY Frank and Joe made their way across the slippery rocks. Suddenly there was a loud splash as Joe lost his footing.
“Are you all right?” Frank whispered, as he came up to where his brother was standing in the shallow water at the edge of the cliff.
“Yes. For a moment I sure thought I'd sprained my ankle,” Joe replied tensely, “but it seems to be okay now.”
“Give me your hand,” Frank whispered and quickly pulled Joe back onto the rocks.
The Hardys had landed at a point some twenty-five yards from the tunnel opening, but the climb over the treacherous rocks was so difficult that the distance seemed much longer. It was very dark in the shadow of the steep cliff. The waves breaking against the rocks had a lonely and foreboding sound.
“Good night!” Joe muttered. “Aren't we ever coming to that tunnel?”
“Take it easy,” Frank advised. “It can't be much farther.”
“I hope Tony and Chet will hurry back with help,” Joe said. “This is a ticklish job.”
“If anybody's on guard here, we'll certainly be at a disadvantage,” Frank remarked in a barely audible tone. “Watch out!”
By this time they had reached the entrance to the tunnel. After a few cautious steps they discovered that the narrow piece of land between the water and the base of the cliff was covered by a thick growth of bushes.
Frank turned to Joe. “If we try to walk through all that stuff,” he whispered, “we're sure to be heard. That is, if those men are in here some place.”
Joe grunted in agreement. “What shall we do?”
Tentatively, Frank put one foot into the water from the rock on which he was standing.
“It isn't deep,” he said. “I guess we can wade through.”
The boys hugged the wall and started off. Fortunately, the water came only to their knees because there was a shelf of rocks all the way along. The brothers' hearts beat wildly. What would they find ahead of them?
The boys had not heard a sound since entering the tunnel. It appeared that the men in the row. boat had gone on to some secret hiding place.
“I think I'll risk my flashlight,” Frank said in a low voice as they reached the pond. “We can't find out anything without it.”
He pulled one he always carried from its waterproof case and snapped it on. The yellow beam shone over the pond. There was no sign of the rowboat.
“How do you think those men got out of here?” Joe asked. “Do you suppose there's another opening?”
Frank turned the flashlight onto the steep sides surrounding the water. “I don't see any. My guess is that those men hid the boat some place. Let's make a thorough search.”
Slowly the brothers began to walk around the edge of the pond, brushing aside the heavy growth and peering among the bushes. They had about given up in despair as they reached the section by the far wall of the tunnel. Then, as Frank beamed the flashlight over the thicket, he exclaimed hoarsely, “Look!”
“A door!” Joe whispered tensely.
The door had been so cleverly concealed that it would not have been seen in full daylight except at close quarters. The glare of the flashlight, however, brought the artificial screen of branches and leaves into sharp relief against the dark cliffside.
“This explains it,” Joe said. “The men in the boat went through here. I wonder where it goes.”
In order to avoid detection, Frank extinguished his light before trying to open the door. He swung it open inch by inch, half expecting to find lights and people beyond. But there was only darkness. Luckily the door had made no noise. Frank turned on his light again.
Ahead was a watery passageway some ten feet wide and twenty-five feet long, with a ledge running along one side. At the end was a tiny wharf with a rowboat tied to a post.
“This is fantastic!” Joe whispered. “And it must have been here a long time. Do you suppose it's connected with the Pollitt place?”
“If it is, it could mean old Mr. Pollitt was mixed up with the smugglers!” Frank answered. “Hey, do you suppose Snattman is his nephew?”
Excited over this possible new angle to the case, Frank and Joe stepped onto the ledge. They dressed, then quietly inched forward. Reaching the wharf, they looked about them as Frank beamed his flashlight on the walls.
“Hold it!” Joe whispered.
Directly ahead was a crude arch in the rock. Beyond it, the boys could see a steep flight of stone steps. Their hearts pounded with excitement.
“We've found it!” Frank whispered. “This must be the secret passageway!”