CHAPTER XV
Plimsoll Marks
Duke Barrows, editor of the Whiteside _Morning Record_, sipped slowlyat his cup of coffee, nodding encouragement at Rick every once in awhile. The editor, after a few words with Jerry, had taken CaptainKillian to his own house for safekeeping. The captain could staythere, Duke said, until it was time for him to make a publicappearance.
But the price Duke asked was to be told the complete story. At firstRick hesitated. With no proof of anything except for Captain Killian'stestimony, which actually convicted no one, he was a little doubtfulabout making accusations. But when it came to keeping a tight lip, theeditor was probably more experienced than any of them. Besides, Rickhoped that he might have a suggestion, so, finally, they put Cap'nMike on the Seaford bus and the three boys and Duke retired to asecluded booth in the rear of a restaurant to talk it over.
Barrows traced circles on the plastic table top for long moments afterRick had finished. "You've been pretty thorough," he said finally."What do you plan to try now?"
Rick shook his head. "I wish I knew. We could try to get to CreekHouse earlier next time the _Albatross_ puts in there, but we know nowthey guard the place."
"How about spotting the _Albatross_ from the air while she actuallyloads at sea?" Duke asked.
"Rick mentioned that," Scotty replied. "But how? We can't fly at nightin the Cub because we don't have landing lights. And even if we did,we could only go out in moonlight because we don't have any nightflying instruments."
Jerry looked at the editor. "Duke, you know the Coast Guard commandingofficer in this area. How about getting him to send out one of hisplanes?"
"We could," Duke said slowly, "but I'd rather not. This is Rick andScotty's case." He grinned. "Besides, I'm selfish. If the Coast Guardgets it, every news agency and paper in the country gets it fromofficial sources. I'd rather have an exclusive we can copyright, thenevery paper in the country will have to quote us."
"It would put Whiteside on the map," Rick grinned in response."Seriously, Duke, I'm afraid that's not very practical. Besides, howwould we know when the _Albatross_ was going to make contact with asupply ship? We know when he's going to Creek House, because Cap'nMike can see him. But Brad has already made contact when thathappens."
"Let's take one thing at a time." The editor drew pencil and paperfrom his pocket. "What would you need to fly at night?"
Rick ticked them off on his fingers. "Wing landing lights, navigationlights, cockpit instrument light. And if we were supposed to fly inanything but clear weather, we'd need a bank and turn indicator and anartificial horizon. But even then I'd be doubtful. I've never hadinstrument training. I wouldn't dare take the Cub out unless it was aclear, moonlit night, so I'd have a good horizon."
Scotty approved. "That makes sense. And if we stuck to clearmoonlight, the only things we'd need would be landing lights andnavigation lights."
Duke made notes. "All right. I don't think you need to worry muchabout having moonlight, because the weather is pretty consistent atthis time of year. Barring a ground haze or a local thunderstorm,you'll have clear weather, and the moon will be full by the early partof next week. Now suppose we get Gus to install landing lights andnavigation lights on a rental basis? The paper would pay for that inexchange for an exclusive story."
"All we'd need would be good weather," Rick said. He had never flownthe Cub at night. In fact, he had flown only once at night, and thenit was in a much better plane and with an experienced instructor. Butwith good moonlight and a clear sky, it shouldn't be much differentfrom day flying.
Duke continued. "Now the next point. How can we know when the_Albatross_ is going to make contact?"
"I think we can find out if Cap'n Mike will help," Scotty answered."We know it takes time to transfer the smuggled goods, whatever theyare. That means Brad Marbek has to leave port earlier in the morningthan usual, unless he wants to call attention to what he's doing. As Isee it, he probably leaves pretty early, makes contact with hissupply ship and gets his load, then he hurries to the fishing groundsand gets his nets over the side and is fishing when daylight comes andthe others see him. If Cap'n Mike kept watch, he would let us knowwhen Brad left real early."
"That's good figuring," Rick complimented his pal. "The _Albatross_would have to leave between half past two and three in the morning.Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to load before daybreak."
"It wouldn't take long," Scotty pointed out. "They have to do theirunloading by hand at Creek House, but the ship would have cargo booms.Two cargo nets swung to his deck would do it. It wouldn't take anytime at all."
Jerry consulted his watch. "We could go to Seaford tonight and makearrangements."
Rick shook his head. "It's Saturday. The fleet doesn't go out onSunday. Monday will be soon enough."
"I have another idea," Duke Barrows said. "Suppose we take the StatePolice into our confidence?"
"But we haven't any evidence to give them," Jerry objected.
"No need. Captain Ed Douglas is a good friend of mine. I can put it tohim as a friend, and not officially."
Rick rather liked the idea of having the State Police on their side.He had a great deal of respect for the young officers, and he knewthat they operated with military efficiency, plus FBI criminologytraining. What's more, Captain Douglas was a good friend of HartsonBrant's, and Rick knew he would treat their story with confidence.
"I'm for it," he said finally. "Besides, if the State Police sort ofco-operated unofficially, they could have their highway patrols watchout for the truck that is getting the stuff from Creek House. Thepatrol car wouldn't even have to go into Seaford. They could just keepan eye on Salt Creek Bridge, because that must be the loading point.Cap'n Mike hasn't seen any trucks on Million Dollar Row."
"Fine." Duke Barrows rose. "It's still early. We'll get busy rightaway. First stop Whiteside Airport to talk with Gus about puttinglights on your plane. Then we'll drop in on Captain Douglas."
Rick felt better. The pattern was clear now, even though there were alot of "ifs." If Cap'n Mike notified them, he and Scotty could flyover the _Albatross_. If they saw it make contact with some offshoreship and load contraband, they could return to Spindrift and notifyCaptain Douglas. Then the State Police could be on hand at Creek Houseto catch the Kelsos and Marbek in the act of unloading. And that wouldsettle the smugglers' hash once and for all! The prospect of flying atnight made him a little nervous, but he was sure it would be allright. The only thing was, although he could take off from Spindriftat night he couldn't land there, because the tiny strip gave no roomfor errors in judgment. He would have to land at Whiteside.
"This is on the _Morning Record_," Duke said as he paid the check."And while we're working on this, I think I'll try to dig into Kelso'srecord a little, too. Never know what might turn up."
* * * * *
Sunday was quiet at Spindrift. Rick and Scotty swam in the light surfbelow Pirate's Field, sun-bathed for a while, and then walked back tothe house. Hartson Brant was loafing for the day, too, and Rick had anopportunity to talk with him for the first time in several days.
Hartson Brant listened to Rick's story and plans, and agreed that anynight flying must be done in absolutely clear, bright weather. Rickknew the fact that Captain Douglas was co-operating had swung hisfather's decision, and he knew that although his mother would beinclined to object, she would accept his father's judgment.
It gave Rick a comfortable feeling to know that the State Policecaptain was interested. Captain Douglas had agreed to go along withtheir plans during a long conference the night before. And Gus hadpromised to get the necessary lights for the Cub from Newark earlyMonday morning, and to have them installed by Monday evening.
* * * * *
Rick and Scotty helped with the installation on Monday afternoon. Thehardest part was feeding the wires through the wings and fuselage. Thewires had to be passed from one inspection port to the next, whichreq
uired a great deal of fishing. But by five in the afternoon, thejob was done. The Cub now carried a pair of landing lights, like autoheadlights, one under each wing, and red and green navigation lightson the wings. There was a tiny white light on the tail, too, whichwould blink in unison with the colored wing lights.
As they landed at Spindrift, Rick grinned at Scotty. "Your head setfirmly on your neck? It might get jarred off first time I try a nightlanding."
"I should have stayed in the Marine Corps and lived a quiet, safelife," Scotty grumbled. "When do we try these things out?"
"Want to go down and shine the lights on Creek House?" Rick joked.
"Nope. Wouldn't be safe. Didn't that phone call warn you not to flyover Seaford?"
The phrase hit home. Rick yelled, "That's it! Scotty, I knew there wassomething funny. It was in the back of my head and I couldn't dig itout. But that's it! Listen, why would the Kelsos object to our flyingover Seaford during the day? All their dirty work goes on under coverof darkness. They must have some reason for warning us!"
"Gosh, yes!" Scotty started at a run through the orchard. "Let's gotake another look at those photographs!"
They ran through the house and up the stairs to Rick's room, andspread out on a table the enlargements Scotty had made. "Let's see,"Rick said. "There must be something they don't want us to see. Butwhere? We know there's nothing on the grounds, and we couldn't seeanything in the house or garage from the air."
"The marsh," Scotty suggested. "Try the marsh, especially up the creekfrom the hotel."
Their heads bent over the best photo of the area and two pairs of eyesscanned the marsh grass. Rick pointed to an area on the Creek Houseside of the marsh, a short distance below the bridge. "There'ssomething there, but I can't make it out."
Scotty straightened up. "Got a magnifying glass?"
"There's one in the library." Rick ran to get it, stopped to explainto his father that they might have an important clue, and ran backupstairs again. It was a powerful glass. He held it over thequestionable area and details leaped to meet him. Wordlessly he handedthe glass to Scotty.
The boy bent and studied the photo, then he turned to Rick with a widegrin on his face. "So that's it! Rick, this is their cache. They mustpark the stuff there until the truck comes!"
The marsh grass had been bent cunningly over the area in an effort atcamouflage, but the magnifying glass clearly showed some sort of bargepiled with wooden boxes!
"Let's go take a look," Scotty said enthusiastically. "Maybe it'sstill there."
Rick started to agree, then a thought struck him. "We'd better not.They'd see us, and they might notice the lights on the plane. We don'twant to tip our hand." Then he brightened. "But they don't know Gus'splane!" He hurried out into the hall and called Whiteside Airport. Gusanswered.
"This is Rick," he told the airport manager. "Gus, how's your plane?"
"Running like a watch. Just like my car. Why?"
"How's to borrow it for a quick trip south?"
"Now he wants to imitate birds," Gus groaned. "Don't you know it's tooearly to fly south?"
"Don't want to go that far south," Rick said.
"Come and get it."
Rick had no hesitation in asking the obliging Gus for the loan ofequipment because he was always ready to oblige in turn. Severaltimes, when Gus's plane was out of commission or not available,either because of engine overhaul or because some flier had rented it,Rick had taken the Cub to Whiteside for Gus to use in instructing hispupils. Furthermore, the island boats were always at Gus's disposaland he frequently borrowed one to go on a Sunday fishing excursion.
The short hop to Whiteside took only a few minutes. Rick taxied to thehangar and he and Scotty climbed out. Gus's plane, a light private jobof a different make than Rick's and painted red, was standing on theapron. It had the name of the airport painted on the side in largeletters.
Gus came out of the office and walked to meet them. He was a short,stocky young man only a few years older than Rick, and his slightlysour look hid a keen sense of humor. "I called my lawyer," heannounced. "He'll be right here."
"Lawyer?" Rick sometimes had a hard time knowing when Gus was pullinghis leg. "What for?"
Gus shrugged. "You're borrowing my plane when your own is in perfectflying condition. It must be for something illegal. You want my planeto be seen instead of yours. You want people to think I did it. So Iasked my lawyer to come. I'll have a witness to prove I wasn't in theplane when the dastardly deed was done."
"What deed?" Scotty asked seriously.
Gus looked wise. "You don't trap me like that," he said. "If Iadmitted what I know, that would make me an accessory before the fact.Nope, I'm keeping quiet about this." He leered. "But I know!"
"Accessory!" Rick hooted. "You know what that means? Something extraand usually unnecessary."
Gus looked hurt. "I'll remember that next time you come in for anengine check and I'll put emery in your crankcase. Go on. Get in andI'll whirl the fan for you."
Rick and Scotty climbed into Gus's plane, grinning. Rick checked thecontrols rapidly, then called, "Ignition off."
"Off," Gus repeated, and pulled the propeller through to prime theengine.
"Contact," Rick called, and Gus pulled the prop. The engine caught atonce. Rick warmed it, watching his gauges, then waved to Gus andtaxied to the end of the runway. As they were airborne, Scotty tookthe speed graphic he had brought and checked to see that a film packwas in place. Rick banked around and headed for Seaford.
There was no buzzing of Creek House this time. Rick flew in a straightline, just far enough seaward so that Scotty could get a good picture.As they passed the cache area, Scotty leaned far out and snapped theshutter. Then he turned to Rick, grinning. "Still there. About tencases. It looks as if we've got the goods on them."
Rick flew straight ahead until he was out of sight of Seaford, then heswung a few miles inland and returned to Whiteside. Fifteen minuteslater they were landing the Cub at Spindrift, just in time for dinner.But first Rick made a phone call to the _Morning Record_, reportedtheir findings to Duke and arranged with Jerry to pick them up at theWhiteside dock later for a trip to Seaford. They had to see Cap'n Miketo make arrangements and Rick wanted another look at the _Albatross_.He had to memorize every detail of its silhouette, otherwise he mightfind himself following the wrong ship when the time came if anotherfisherman decided to get an early start.
It was dusk when Jerry met them. "Got a message from Duke," he said asthey climbed into the car. "He phoned Captain Douglas to tell himabout the wooden cases you saw. The captain is going to keep an eye onthe stuff, but he says it isn't enough evidence. The Kelsos couldalways claim they knew nothing about it and we couldn't prove theydid. The stuff isn't on their land."
"Proof," Scotty said sourly. "Golly, do we have to get pictures ofthem peddling the stuff to customers?"
"Just about," Rick commented.
* * * * *
Cap'n Mike wasn't at home when the boys arrived. They parked in frontof his shack and talked and listened to the car radio for over an hourbefore he finally appeared, then he greeted them tartly.
"Why weren't you at Spindrift when I phoned?"
"What for?" Rick asked. "What happened?"
"Brad Marbek's at Creek House again. That's what happened. I called totell you, and your mother said you had left. What's the matter? Notletting what happened the other night scare you off, are you?"
"We sure are," Scotty replied.
Rick laughed at the old seaman's astonished expression. "Don't let himfool you, Cap'n. We've got another plan."
Quickly he outlined Duke's proposal and explained how they hadoutfitted the Cub.
Cap'n Mike smacked his thigh. "Now we're getting down to cases. Youjust bet I'll keep watch on the pier so I can phone when Brad leaves."
"There's one more thing, Cap'n Mike," Rick said. "I have to getanother look at the _Albatross_ tonight. Is there any place from whichwe can s
ee her without being seen?"
Cap'n Mike thought it over. "Yep," he said at last. "There is. There'sa dredger tied up at the pier just south of the fish wharf, and Bradalways berths in the same place, south side. I know the skipper of thedredger. We can sort of drop in on him and take a look from there.That suit?"
"That will be fine," Rick replied. "But we may have a long wait ifBrad's at Creek House."
"Wouldn't be surprised," Cap'n Mike nodded. "Likely two hours. Whatsay you come into my shack? Might be able to scare up a sandwich ortwo to pass away the time."
Rick looked at Jerry doubtfully. "There's a paper tomorrow morning.Don't you have to get back and help get it out?"
"Not tonight." Jerry grinned his pleasure. "Duke said to stick withyou two and forget everything else. First time I've had an assignmentlike this. I have to admit I sort of like it."
"Good," Cap'n Mike grunted. "Then let's go see what we can find toeat. I got so interested in watching for Brad Marbek that I plumbforgot about food."
* * * * *
It was after eleven when the four left the shack and climbed intoJerry's car for the short ride to the pier. At Scotty's suggestion,they parked the car on the edge of town and walked to the dock wherethe dredger was tied up. They stayed in the shadows, hopeful that theywould not be seen, and Rick thought they reached the dredge withoutattracting attention.
The dredge was deserted, but Cap'n Mike made himself at home. He ledthe boys into the wheelhouse, a small shack on the aft end, and theytook places at the windows. They had arrived too early, as itdeveloped. It was a full half-hour before the _Albatross_ rounded thefish pier and steamed into her berth. The pier workers were gatheredat the berth, obviously waiting impatiently. They had finishedunloading the last of the other trawlers a full fifteen minutesbefore.
Rick studied the rigging of the ship as it approached and memorizedthe position of her running lights. The _Albatross_ had only onedistinctive feature; her crow's-nest, from which a lookout was keptfor schools of fish, was basket-shaped instead of being perfectlyround. The other trawlers, he had noted, had crow's-nests that lookedlike barrels. He knew he wouldn't forget the way the nest narrowedtoward the bottom.
The _Albatross_ was low in the water. As she slid into position andthrew out her lines, he saw clearly the Plimsoll mark on her bow. ThePlimsoll mark was a series of measurements in feet, running from themaximum depth at which the ship should lie in the water down towardthe keel. By looking at it, the skipper could tell at once how muchload he had aboard. Now, the top figure was barely showing.
Rick studied it, and his forehead creased. "That's funny," he said.He pointed it out to the others. "She's full up. You'd think she wouldbe lighter after dropping off a load at Creek House."
"You would for a fact," Cap'n Mike muttered. "What do you supposethey're smuggling? Must be feathers. 'Cause if you added a few morepounds to the load she's carrying now, she'd be awash."
Rick felt a pang of doubt. Were they away off the beam on theirguesses about the Kelsos and the _Albatross_? The ship certainly wouldbe higher in the water had they unloaded cargo.
"Maybe they didn't unload tonight," Scotty ventured. "It would besmart of Marbek to just visit Creek House for nothing once in a while,to throw off any watchers. That way, he could make his story aboutvisiting his relatives seem a little more plausible."
Cap'n Mike had told them that was the story Brad was handing out tothose who dared question him about his visits to Creek House.
Rick's face cleared. "That must be it," he agreed. "But look, if hevisited the Kelsos tonight, it doesn't look as though he would makecontact with his supply ship for a couple of days."
"Suits me," Scotty stated. "I'm not overly anxious to go tooting offinto the wild black yonder in the Cub, if you come right down to it.I'd rather Brad took his time, to let me get used to the idea."
He had stated so neatly what Rick was feeling that he had to grin. Hehad been wishing he had more confidence in his ability to land safelyat night.
"Amen," he said fervently.