The Boy Scouts on Picket Duty

In the wake of an easterly squall the sloop Arrow, Lemuel Vinton master and owner, was making her way along the low coast, southward, from Snipe Point, one of the islands in Florida Bay about twelve miles northeast of Key West.

With every sail closehauled and drawing until the bolt ropes creaked under the strain, the Arrow laid a fairly straight course toward Key West. She bore a startling message, the nature of which her captain had considered of sufficient importance for him to prolong a cruise he had undertaken and to hasten back to the port whence he had sailed, twenty-four hours previously, to inform the authorities.

The sloop had not sped far from the Point, and the receding shore line had scarcely grown dimly blue on the horizon under a peculiar yellow-gray sunrise, when Captain Vinton's crew began to make their appearance on deck. The crew consisted of five Boy Scouts, an older companion who was in charge of them, and a Seminole Indian guide, called Dave, who had been hired to conduct the boys on a brief exploration of the Everglades. Four of the boys belonged to a troop of scouts who had their summer headquarters at Pioneer Camp, far away among the New England hills. They had, however, formed a resolution to spend the present summer not at Pioneer Camp, where most of their younger comrades would be, but in seeing some new sections of their native land. To this end, three of them--Hugh Hardin, his chum Billy Worth, and Chester Brownell--had gladly accepted an invitation from the fourth, Alec Sands, to spend a month at Palmdune, the Florida residence of Alec's father, who had sent them on this cruise. With them Mr. Sands had sent his secretary, a young man named Roy Norton, who had left them temporarily at Key West while he attended to business in Havana. When he had returned from Havana, he had found a new member of the party--Mark Anderson, the son of the captain of Red Key Life-Saving Station.

The Arrow had been anchored off Snipe Point during the previous night, where Captain Vinton had gained the information which made him decide to return to Key West. This knowledge, which he had already imparted to the boys, was to the effect that throughout the night before, while he and Dave alternately watched, he had seen a gray steamer or perhaps a gunboat cruising among the islands off the Point, occasionally coming close enough to the beach to be made out distinctly, but showing no lights and making no signals.

Immediately his suspicions had been aroused by this mysterious action. His impression was that the vessel belonged to a country which was then hostile to the United States. In that case she was either grappling for the cable between Key West and the mainland terminus at Punta Rossa, which lay close inshore at Snipe Point, or was trying to make connection with some other vessel carrying supplies or ammunition from some West Indian port, perhaps intending to run the blockade.

Why she should attempt to tamper with the cable, he could not understand, knowing the superior efficiency of the wireless system; but he thought she might be one of the elusive filibustering vessels reported to have been seen in the Gulf of Mexico several days before this.

Stories about these mysterious vessels had caused official orders to be sent to Tampa and to Galveston, Texas, concerning the departure of several transports with American troops. And Captain Vinton himself had almost encountered a notorious filibuster named Juan Bego, one night during the earlier part of this pleasure cruise; that is, he had sighted a vessel which he felt sure was the Esperanza of Captain Bego, in waters which were supposed to be debarred to the enemy. All this had tended to make him more alert and wary than ever, even suspicious; and he had resolved to lose no time in reporting his most recent discovery.

"You boys might as well heave them old tarpon poles overboard now," he said seriously, as he shifted the helm. "That there craft I seen las' night ain't Yankee built, I'll swear; and if she should take a notion to foller us, we want to be light and shipshape, without no signs o' lubberliness that the squall may have brought to the surface. How's everything in the cabin, Dave? Tight and neat?"

The Seminole grunted, nodding his head in affirmation. Apparently he was too disturbed in mind to reply verbally; besides, like most of his kind, he was a poor sailor, and he did not enjoy the speed at which the Arrow was now sailing. It upset his mental balance as well as his bodily equilibrium.

Obeying the captain's instructions, the boys tossed overboard their heavy poles, saving only the lines and reels.

"When we get back to Key West, what's the first thing to do, Captain?" inquired Alec.

"Report seeing that steamer to the naval authorities," was Vinton's prompt answer.

"I didn't know there were any---"

"There's likely to be some there now, waiting for orders."

"And will they search for the strange vessel?"

"You bet they will! We ain't goin' to let no sneakin' furrin tub show us her heels,--are we, lads?"

"Not if we can help it!" exclaimed Hugh. "I guess one of Uncle Sam's revenue cutters will give chase to that steamer, or gunboat, or whatever she may be."

"Not if she's a gunboat, I reckon!" quoth Vinton with a chuckle. "Cripes! that vessel was certainly a clipper for goin'! Her cap'n was wise enough to keep to wind'ard, for he seemed to know where the rough water begins to rise and how to make the most o' them keys. Never mind; off Nor'west Cape he'll have to come out like a seaman and take his duckin'! H'ist that there jib, Billy, and make Dave move his carcass where it'll do some good."

But Dave did not want to bestir himself from his position on the weather gunwale, where he crouched dejectedly, letting the stiff breeze dry his spray-soaked garments. He groaned, protested, grunted, and finally swore volubly as Alec prodded him, while Billy hoisted the flying jib.

"What for so much hurry?" he grumbled. "Get to Key West by afternoon, anyhow. Dave want plenty sleep."

"You slept like a top for six hours last night!" declared Alec.

"No-o; Dave watch, saw steamer,--no more sleep, no forty winks."

"Oh, come!" laughed Billy. "I heard you snoring, Dave; you woke me up! I thought it was thunder!"

"Nothing less than thunder or a cannon firecracker would wake you up, Billy,--as a general rule," said Hugh, flinging one arm over his chum's shoulders and giving him a vigorous hug.

"Look yonder, boys!" shouted Captain Vinton at the helm. He pointed aft, and the four lads sprang to their feet and hurried toward him, alert and eager for a new surprise.

Some distance behind them, toward the mainland, a thin trail of smoke which had not been seen for two or three hours was now visible inside the keys. Could there be any reason for the reappearance of that smoky blur against the sky? Was it made by the mysterious steamer? If so, was she following the Arrow?

"By the shades o' shad, I orter know that boat!" exclaimed Vinton in puzzled chagrin. "See? She's coaled up, goin' for all she's worth. Alec, git out my glass from the cabin, take a look, and see if there's many men aboard."

Alec ran to do the captain's bidding. Descending into the cabin, he took from a locker an old-style marine telescope with which he hurriedly returned to the deck. After some focusing he managed to catch a glimpse of the steamcraft, just before she partially disappeared from sight behind one of the sandy reefs that fence off the sound.

"The crew of the steamer seem to be quite excited," Alec said, as he trained the telescope upon them. "I can see sailors running across her deck, and two of them have just hoisted an American flag. Some others are waving signals and--"

"What?" shouted the captain. "American flag, did you say?"

"Yes. What do you think of that?"

"Reckon she wants to speak us."

"Why?" asked Chester.

"Looks like this is the first time she's seen us," said Vinton, taking the marine glass from Alec. "But it can't be the same craft we sighted back yonder, last night. Anyhow, if they're wavin' signal flags,--and they are, sure enough!--they must want to speak the Arrow. That's plain. I'm goin' to ease in more and see who's aboard. Look! the dinged old boat is comin' out from behind the bar now."

Pondering some contingency which he did not explain to the boys, Vinton shifted the helm; and his sloop, hitherto heading in a southwesterly direction, now began to edge closer to the line of keys. Had Vinton not known his course so thoroughly from long experience in sailing these channels, inlets, and lagoons, it would have been dangerous; but he dexterously eluded the various reefs and oyster bars and brought the Arrow safely into smoother water. Meanwhile, the boys noticed that the wind, which had blown so strongly, was beginning to slacken, thus allowing the steamer to gain on the Arrow quite perceptibly. They saw then that she was a small steamer, like a steam yacht, and light gray in color,--perhaps one of the United States revenue cutters.

Captain Vinton was astonished. He had already begun to have serious doubts that this could be the same mysterious vessel he had seen cruising about the islands the night before. All at once, unexpectedly, his doubts were resolved into a certainty that it was not the same, for even while he was wondering, a strange thing happened:

A long, low, gray shape, something like a built-for-speed tug-boat with a short funnel, darted into view from between two keys, and, crossing the wake of the revenue cutter, glided swiftly along the very course the Arrow had taken, heading back toward Snipe Point. Before the sloop and the steamer had come within hailing distance of each other, the strange craft, not depending on the dying easterly wind, was well along the course, sending back--toward a trail of darker smoke.

"Well, what d'you know about that?" queried Billy, easily relapsing into slang when the first few minutes' surprise had worn off.

"Dunno much about it," Captain Vinton answered in a somewhat gruff tone, "but it looks to me mighty like a filibuster's craft, or p'rhaps a smuggler's."

At the word "filibuster," the boys--figuratively speaking--pricked up their ears.

"What on earth can they be trying to smuggle?" was Hugh's eager question, to which the captain replied promptly:

"Arms,--leastways, cartridges or gunpowder. They ain't tryin' to smuggle 'em into Fluridy, but out of it," he explained. "Some gang of raskils is buyin' small quantities of war goods up state--or else from Cuby--totin' 'em down the coast an' through th' Everglades, and gettin' 'em aboard some steamboat like that one, and so away where they'll do the most harm. Get me?"

"Yes," replied Alec, "but I never would have thought such tricks were possible in these days."

"Boy, you can't never tell what's just possible or what ain't, in these days," gravely asserted Captain Vinton. "All sorts o' things is like to happen, and sometimes it's durned hard to know just what's goin' on. But if that's any filibustin' outfit, they'd better make tracks out o' these waters as fast as they can lay beam to wind'ard."

So saying, he shifted the helm again and bore away at an angle that would enable them to come close to the revenue cutter, now scarcely a quarter of a mile astern. Lighter and lighter came the wind, slower glided the Arrow over the long heavy swells, nearer and nearer came the cutter, going at a steady, rapid rate. Soon the two vessels were within hailing distance, and a megaphone call came across the water, clear and distinct:

"Sloop, ahoy! Can you understand?"

"Aye, aye!" called Vinton.

The five boys gathered around him, eager to hear the interchange of calls. Even Dave rose and shambled over to the little group at the tiller. On the other vessel they could now see a number of men in blue uniforms and one in a civilian's suit of gray tweeds.

"Who've you got aboard?" came the next question from the captain of the Petrel.

Vinton briefly stated his passenger list and explained the purpose of their cruise.

"Bound for Key West now?" shouted the Petrel's captain, whom

Vinton, studying him through the marine glass, recognized as James

Kelsey. "Trying to dodge that craft that just passed us, or trying

to catch her?"

"We were goin' to report as how we seen her las' night off Snipe Point," bawled Vinton, speaking through a megaphone which Dave had handed to him. "Thought you fellows were at Key West."

"We were until this morning," came the answer. "We've been chasing that boat. She's the Esperanza, a smuggler. Have you seen her throwing anything overboard, or picking up stuff--like boxes or small kegs?"

Then a light of understanding broke upon Vinton's mind. So that was what the smuggler had been doing all night! Not grappling for the cable, but stealthily picking up a contraband cargo of munitions of war, small stores such as could be cast adrift along the coast in some prearranged method and gathered in by those who had been instructed to recognize the floating objects! What were they? Water-tight kegs of dynamite, submerged, but buoyed up by thrice their weight of corks? Boxes of rifle bullets? Or merely harmless glass bottles containing, perhaps, written descriptions of the country to be invaded, photographs of fortifications, details of naval or military equipment?

The answer was not long forthcoming.

"Ain't seen her pick up anything," shouted Vinton, "but reckon that's her lay. What's she after?"

"Dynamite."

"By thunder!" ejaculated the captain in a low tone of awe.

"Yes, that's just what they'll do, if they can," Billy commented with one of his irrepressible grins. "They'll buy thunder. You've said it, Cap! But what'll they use it for?"

Vinton paid not the slightest heed to Billy's poor pun. Instead, while Alec gave Billy a dig in the ribs, the captain put the same question to Kelsey.

"Oh, you know they've started another one of those dinky revolutions in Panama, two generals fighting for the presidency," explained Kelsey. He no longer was obliged to shout curtailed messages through his megaphone, but spoke through it in a tone only a few degrees louder than ordinarily; for the sloop and the steamer were now almost alongside. "Well, the U.S. and Cuba want to stay entirely out of the little war game; but one side of the revolution, the Visteros, are sore at Uncle Sam and trying to make him take a hand. They've got agents in all the Gulf states, in Cuba and Hayti, and they're trying to stir up trouble."

What kind o trouble?

"Any old kind. They're not particular as to the brand. It's war stores they want, and discontented loafers for soldiers of fortune. And the Visteros are stealing dynamite to threaten the Canal."

"Bosh!" roared Vinton in a loud guffaw. "They couldn't do it! Let 'em try!"

"Yes,--let 'em! But meanwhile, we're out to put the kibosh on this smuggling. By the way, Vinton, now that you've made your report, you can turn around again when you've got the wind, and go back up along the coast. No need to go to Key West now."

"Hum-mp!" grunted Dave. "Waste time, get sick--all for nuthin'!"

"Shut up, you greasy Seminole!" muttered Vinton, and he turned away scornfully. "All right, we will," he called to the Petrel. "What you goin' to do?"

"First find out if that craft hid anything over there behind that key where she was lying, and then follow her."

More confabbing of an unimportant and general nature followed between Vinton and Kelsey and the man in tweeds, who was evidently the special correspondent of some newspaper. At the end of the conference, Kelsey called out:

"Well, I guess we'll mosey on, Lem. Goodby and good luck to you. If you meet any smugglers in the upper 'glades or along the coast, send word to Tampa; they'll rush a cutter with some of the Gulf police to the spot. Keep a sharp eye on strange-looking craft, will you?"

"Aye, aye!" responded the Arrow's captain, little knowing into what adventures this pursuit of smugglers would lead him and his crew.

In a few minutes the Petrel had swung about and was heading in the direction from which the Esperanza had appeared. The Arrow was left becalmed and drifting on the heavy swells of the Gulf; but her crew, excited by the prospect of encountering freebooters of the main, forgot to be seasick, even if they had been so inclined, and fell to preparing their noonday meal.

Vinton tilted his cap over his left eye and surveyed the trim Arrow with frank satisfaction, at the conclusion of their repast.

"All shipshape, boys? Good! Reckon I'll let one of you steer awhile, and hit my bunk for an hour or two. There'll be wind out'n the sou'east, later on; and then I'll take charge again. All you've got to do now is to turn her around, with her nose pointin' yonder,"--he waved a hand toward the distant Sanibel Islands that stretch along the coast south of Charlotte Harbor,--"and take 'vantage of every puff of wind that you can use for tackin'. Understand?"

They signified their readiness to manage the sloop, once she had gone well beyond any reefs or bars, and they drew lots to see who should be first to take the captain's place while he rested. The draw, fell to Chester and he took charge of the helm. Alec came next, then Billy took his turn, and finally Hugh. While one steered, the others kept a look-out for the erratic Esperanza, thinking it might again appear from some unexpected quarter. Mark and Roy Norton lounged in the bow and lazily swapped fishing stories, not at all averse to leaving the work to the rest.

With the departure of the Petrel on her return to the waters near Snipe Point, and with a barely-perceptible rise of wind, the sloop Arrow laid a zigzag course toward the Ten Thousand Islands and came abreast of them about five o'clock. Beyond a broad inlet that led into the bay, a white sand beach, sparsely overgrown with crabgrass and waving palmettos, indicated to Dave that they were near one of his old camping places. He called Captain Vinton's attention to it, hinting that it would be a good place to spend the night.

"Why not aboard the sloop?" queried Vinton, though he knew perfectly well that Dave would seek any excuse to stretch his unseaworthy limbs on terra firma in preference to tossing on the bosom of old ocean.

"Bad weather comin',--windy to-night," said the Seminole prophet, pointing to a bank of jagged slaty-gray clouds that was rising in the west over the gulf.

"Reckon you're right, Dave. If that brings half the wind its looks promise, I'd ruther have these keys between it and us--eh? There's anuther squall brewin' out yonder. Come on, let's go ashore, lads."

Making in shoreward, the Arrow presently cast anchor off a shallow cove "inside" the nearest bar. All five boys got into the sloop's dory, and after landing the others on the beach, Hugh rowed back to the sloop to bring the captain, Norton and the guide ashore. When they landed, they discovered Billy and Alec, Chester and Mark engaged in examining a big battered tin box, locked, with its cover sealed up with black sealing wax, which they had found half buried in the sand.

"What is it? What have you got there?" Hugh asked quickly, running forward.

"It looks like part of Captain Kidd's buried treasure!" said Billy, whose eyes were sparkling with anticipation.

"Nothing of the sort!" declared matter-of-fact Chester. "It's probably a lot of old maps and charts."

"Let's open it and see," was Alec's advice.

But the captain interposed.

"Let it alone, boys," he said. "It's marked with a small initial 'B.'

That may stand for Bego or--bait."

The captain's oracular advice mystified the boys until, seated by their evening camp fire of driftwood, he explained to them that the mysterious box might be filled with articles such as Juan Bego and his men were both hiding and collecting.

"I dunno as he's been as far up the coast as this," Vinton added, "but 'twouldn't be hard for a sly old sea-dog like him to creep along these keys at night time 'most any distance."

"Are we far from the Everglades?" asked Billy, cautiously stirring the fire; for, in spite of the spring warmth, there was a decided chill in the air so close to the ocean.

"Well, the 'Glades are a good stiff hike from here," replied the captain. "Eh, Dave; how about it?"

The guide made no answer. Wearied with doing nothing all day, save lying around on the deck of the Arrow a prey to seasickness, he had fallen asleep. Above the splash of the surf and the rustle of the wind in the palmettos, his snores could be heard distinctly, making night hideous. Alec was on the point of waking him with a nudge in the ribs, when Hugh restrained him.

"Let him sleep, Alec," he whispered. "Poor old Injun, he's comfortable at last!"

"So am I," added Chester, stretching himself out on the warm sand.

"This is better than those stuffy little bunks in the cabin, isn't it?"

The next minute he regretted those words, for Captain Vinton looked at him with an aggrieved expression, as if peeved to hear any disparagement of the Arrow. The good captain was inordinately proud of his sloop, which he preferred to all other craft; indeed, had he been offered the command of one of the gigantic Atlantic liners, it is likely that he would have declined the honor.

Presently Vinton rose and, beginning to stroll up and down the beach, looked all around him and up at the sky in the scrutinizing way which seafaring men have when they retire for the night or turn out in the morning, to ascertain what sort of weather they may expect.

Overhead, he saw large masses of clouds scudding across the starry heavens, driven by the wind which bid fair to continue all night and all the next day. Off on the lagoon loomed the dark hulk and slender mast of the sloop, rising and falling on the choppy waves, her bow light gleaming across the water like a watchful eye. At his feet lay the dory, drawn up on the sand and moored by a line fastened to a palmetto, well out of reach of the rising tide.

Behind him sparkled the ruddy camp fire with the recumbent figures of the five scouts, Norton and the Indian grouped around it, and nearby lay the neat little pile of provisions and utensils covered with a tarpaulin. What matter if rain should chance to fall during the night? They had brought light blankets and rubber ponchos from the sloop, so they would be well protected.

Everything was safe and in order; he was satisfied and at peace with all mankind,--even with the smugglers who had roused his righteous wrath,--and his youthful companions were happy, enjoying the cruise and their adventures.

So unpromising did the weather beyond the keys look, and so congenial seemed the lagoon and this sheltered islet, the captain came to the conclusion that it would not be amiss if they should linger there a day or two longer than they had planned. After all, Alec's father had set no time limit for the cruise and the boys were in no hurry to return to Santario.

Thinking thus, he rejoined his crew around the fire and heard them discussing a plan to take the dory and row out on the lagoon in the morning, if it were not too rough, in the hope of catching some fresh fish for breakfast. He assented to this plan, for he himself intended to go aboard the Arrow the first thing on the morrow to look her over and see how she had weathered the night. Wrapping himself in a blanket and bidding the boys follow his example, he lay down beside the embers and was soon asleep.

Hugh and Billy, lovers of surf-bathing, would fain have taken a dip into the breakers before going to sleep; but Alec sensibly counseled them against this.

"Wait till daylight If you shed your clothes now and go in, the mosquitoes will eat you alive before you're dry again," he warned them. "Besides, it's dangerous to go in around these shores in the darkness. You might stumble into a hole or a sea-puss and be carried out to sea before you knew what had happened. And Dave told me there are sharks that---"

"Oh, forget it!" laughed Billy. "We have no intention of furnishing supper to a shark. Anyway, real, live, man-eating sharks are as scarce as hens' teeth--almost."

Nevertheless, being overruled by Hugh, who saw the wisdom of Alec's advice, he promptly abandoned the desire for a plunge; and, as he soon learned, they did well to seek the protection of their smoke smudge, for the mosquitoes were truly formidable. Even under the canopy of smoke, these noxious insects darted viciously to bite and torment the campers. Time and time again, the boys were awakened from sleep by the attacks of these buzzing pests; but at last they grew more accustomed to such onslaughts, and pulling nets closely around their limbs and faces, they sank into deeper slumber.

* * * * * *

"The evening red, the morning gray

Sets the traveler on his way.

The evening gray, the morning red

Brings showers down upon his head."

Hugh whispered these words softly to himself when he awoke in the dim twilight hour just before dawn. It was still too dark for him to distinguish objects clearly, and for a moment he felt that queer sensation of being lost, of not knowing just where he was--that feeling which sometimes comes to one even in the most familiar surroundings. At once, however, it left him, and the little rhyme crept into his mind instead.

"Wonder why I waked up so suddenly?" was his silent query as he lay there blinking up at the sky, watching the few visible stars grow pale and paler. "Thought I heard some noise like distant thunder, very far away, and then it changed into the sound of muffled oars, or the tchug-chug-tchug of a motor boat. Then a voice said softly, 'It's a fine morn--' Oh, pshaw! Must have been dreaming. Is anybody else awake?"

He sat up and peered through the dusk. No, his companions were still asleep, prone on the sand. The breeze had lessened and the nocturnal insects had begun to take flight into the shadowy undergrowth, retreating before the advance of day. Across the dark stretch of water between this island and the mainland a flock of waterfowl flew noiselessly and vanished over the dunes. The surf broke with monotonous, soothing rhythm, stirring the silence with little waves of sound.

"It must have been the surf I heard," Hugh thought, still trying to decide what had roused him from sleep.

Quietly rising, so as not to disturb his friends, he stole down to the beach and stood gazing at the sloop, which now rode calmly at anchor, her bow light still shining.

"And yet it did sound like a motor boat," he said aloud.

The sound of his own voice, breaking the stillness, almost startled him. With a short, low laugh at his habit of talking aloud when alone, he turned his back on camp and walked on for some little distance up the beach, until he rounded a curve of the shore and saw before him a narrow channel separating the island on which he stood from another, slightly larger. Clumps of young palms grew on that other island, taller and greener than those around the camping place. Hugh had been told that a palmetto bud cut out of a young, fresh, green palm would be fine with a piece of fat pork in making a stew; so he felt tempted to swim across the estuary and gather a choice bud.

The fact is, this desire was chiefly an excuse for a bit of exploration. Hugh loved to prowl around in unfamiliar places even if he were alone, though he naturally preferred to share a quest of discoveries with some comrade. So now, shedding his coat, outer shirt, and shoes, but retaining his other garments for protection against mosquitoes, he dived into the inlet and swam across it easily.

Continuing his tramp, he presently found himself on the slope of a sandy mound which formed the northeastern extremity of the small island. From the top of this he could obtain a good view of the surrounding islands and the mainland. He sat down to rest on the mound and to enjoy the outlook.

By this time the eastern sky was beginning to show a pale rosy glow, and soon the first rays of the rising sun turned the edges of clouds into flame. Across this glowing expanse the mainland stretched as far as the eye could see, a dark, low-lying, emerald-hued mass, varied and mysterious.

As Hugh gazed, the sun rose into view, flooding earth and sky and sea with glorious light. The boy drew a deep breath of wonder and turned to look around him on all sides. As he did so, his eyes rested on something which changed his breath of admiration into a gasp of astonishment.

At the base of the mound on which he sat, partly hidden by clumps of stunted cypress and palms, was a small hut built of bamboo and thatched with palm leaves. It was built in the form of a lean-to against the slope of a sand dune near the shore, and at first glance it seemed to be part of the island itself. Indeed, it was so well concealed that Hugh might never have noticed it at all, save for the fact that he caught sight of a canoe with three men in it approaching the hut, from behind still another island.

Some instinct warned him not to let himself be seen, and he slid down from the top of the mound and lay flat, watching the canoe. He felt like a scout in the enemy's territory, or a sentry on duty, stationed there to observe the actions of unknown foes.

To his surprise, the canoe came to land directly in front of the hut, and the three men sprang out into the shallow water and drew it up on the beach. From the bottom of the canoe they lifted a long object rolled in canvas. Suspending this from their shoulders, they disappeared into the hut.