"Who could have stolen it?" asked Tom.

"No one," replied Joe. "n.o.body ever has a boat stolen in this harbour.

Some one who wanted to cross the cove has borrowed it. We shall find it all right in the morning,-but that don't help us out now. It's provoking enough, and strange, too, after all, that the one who took it didn't step up to the cottage and let us know, as the cottage is so near. But boats are almost common property here; any man in the harbour would lend us his boat in a minute."

"We must do the next best thing," said Arthur, "and take one from the slip at the wharf. No one will want his boat at this hour."

"Though some one does seem to want ours," broke in Joe. "Curious, isn't it, that whoever it is should come around into the cove and get our boat, when there are any number at the slip?"

It certainly was rather strange.

Following Arthur's suggestion, the boys proceeded to the slip and embarked in a big dory, the property of Captain Sam. Then they rowed quickly across the cove.

It took them but a few minutes to reach the other sh.o.r.e, for the cove was smooth as gla.s.s. They headed for the bluff, and pointed directly into the black, shadowy hole which they knew to be the natural landing-place. It was a peculiar, narrow little dock, completely rock-bound, except for the pa.s.sage leading into it. It lay entirely in the shadow, but they had landed there before, and knew just where to steer for a shelf, or ledge, of rock that made a natural slip.

Still, their familiarity with the place did not prevent them from b.u.mping suddenly into a rowboat that lay moored there. They pushed it aside to make a landing, and found to their amazement that it was their own.

"Hulloa!" cried George, springing out on to the broad, shelving ledge; "that is queerer still. Here's the old _Anna_, and what in the world is she doing here? Who can have brought her? And what for? There's something strange about it. Why, there isn't a man in the village that would dare go near the haunted house at night, and yet somebody is over here now, for some reason."

If it were possible for Henry Burns to be excited ever, he was so now.

"Get in here, quick, George," he said, "and don't make any noise. I think I know what it means, and I'll tell you just as soon as we get out of here. We can't get away any too soon, either."

"Why not take the _Anna_ out with us?" said young Joe, "and pay somebody off for running away with it? He would only have to walk a few miles around the cove to get back again-"

"No, no, leave the boat where it is," said Henry Burns. "And let's get out of here quick."

"Why, what's the matter with you, Henry?" asked George, jumping back into the boat and giving it a vigorous shove off. "Any one would think to see you that some one was being murdered up there."

Henry Burns's earnestness was sufficient to convince them, however, that something serious was involved in their actions, and they made haste to get out into the cove again.

"Row for the beach above, boys," continued Henry Burns, "and we will go up to the old house through the woods. I think I know who is up there in the house, and if I am right it means that we may make an important discovery. The man who I think is up there is Mr. Kemble."

"What! The cripple?" asked Tom.

"This is another one of Henry Burns's jokes," said George. "You're having lots of fun with us, aren't you, Henry?"

"I tell you I am in earnest," said Henry Burns. "We won't burn any lights to-night, and you better make up your mind to that, right off. There's more serious business ahead of us."

And then, when they had landed on the beach and had drawn the boat noiselessly up on the sh.o.r.e, Henry Burns told them of the adventure he had had on the roof of the hotel. How he had seen the stranger throw off his disguise of weakness, and become, suddenly, a man of strength and action; how he believed the man to be somehow connected with the thieves who had committed the robbery, and how he believed that the man was now up there in the haunted house, though for what purpose he could not tell.

It might be he had something to conceal there.

"Cracky!" exclaimed Tom, when Henry Burns had finished his story. "This beats ghost hunting all hollow; but we are by no means certain that it is this stranger who is up there."

"No, but I believe as Henry does, that it is he," said George Warren.

"Who else would have any object in being up there this hour of the night?

We know from what Henry saw that the man is dangerous, that he seems to be in hiding-"

"And that if he should catch one of us spying on him up there in the old house, he wouldn't hesitate to shoot," interrupted young Joe, who would rather have risked the meeting with a legion of ghosts than with one real live thief, armed and desperate.

"That's true enough," answered Henry Burns; "but we must not give him that opportunity, if it is he, which, of course, we're by no means sure of. At any rate, we want to see and not be seen by whoever is there, and we cannot go any too quietly."

Then, as the tide was rising, and they might be gone some time, they lifted the dory and carried it up out of the reach of high water, after which they began the ascent of the hill. There was not a breath of wind stirring, and there was not a sound of life in the woods. The tide crept in softly, and not even a wave could be heard on the sh.o.r.e.

Out through the trees they could see, as they climbed, glimpses of the water, calm and placid as a mill-pond, lit up dimly by the moonlight shining through a patchwork of clouds that covered all the sky. Beyond this the darkness of the village was accentuated by a light here and there, glimmering from the window of some cottage.

Then they came to the brow of the hill, and could see the haunted house through the trees. They approached cautiously. It looked gloomier than ever, with its sagging, moss-grown roof, its shattered window-panes, and the door in the side hanging awry from a single hinge.

In what once had been the dooryard there were a few straggling clumps of bushes, and thistles and burdocks grew in rank profusion.

It was a sight to dampen the ardour of stouter hunters than this band of boys. But when, added to all this, there suddenly flashed across one of the windows a ray of light, faint and flickering, but discernible to them all, and which the next instant disappeared, they halted irresolutely and debated what they should do.

It was finally determined that Henry Burns and Bob White should go on ahead to the old house, while the rest waited at a little distance till they should reconnoitre. The two set off at once, while the others waited behind a clump of trees. They did not have to wait long, for the two returned shortly, telling them to come on softly. When within a few rods of the house they dropped on their hands and knees and crept along.

All at once the two ahead stopped and whispered to the others to listen.

They heard noises that seemed to come from the cellar, which sounded as though some one was digging in the earth. Then, as they came within range of a long, shallow cellar window, they saw the rays of a lantern.

They crept up closely and peered in through the pane. There, in the damp, dingy, cobwebbed cellar of the haunted house, dimly lighted by the rays of a lantern, which stood on an old wooden bench, a man was working. He had his coat off and was digging in the ground with a spade, throwing up shovelfuls of the hard clay.

The rays of light from the lantern were not diffused evenly throughout the cellar, but shot out in one direction, toward the spot where the man was at work; and this because it was neither the ordinary ship's lantern, nor yet a house lantern, but a small dark lantern, such as a burglar might carry on his person, with a sliding shutter in front.

The man's sleeves were rolled up, displaying arms that were corded with muscle, and on which the veins stood out as he worked. He handled the spade awkwardly enough, but made up in strength for his lack of skill.

Presently he paused and looked up, and they saw that it was, as Henry Burns had prophesied, the stranger guest.

A curious occupation for one who was cruising for his health! Indeed, he looked so little like a man that was weak and ill, and so much like one that was powerful and reckless and devoid of fear, as the light of the lantern caused his figure to stand out in relief against the darkness, that, though they were six and he but one, had he seen them and sprung up, they would have fled in terror.

Then, as he stooped down to grasp the lantern, they drew quickly back from the window. It was well they did so, for, taking up the lantern, the man flashed it upon the window-panes, and then, turning it in all directions, threw the rays of light in all parts of the cellar and out through a window opposite. Then he set it down again; and it was evident his suspicions had not been aroused, for he resumed his digging.

After a few minutes he threw down the spade and produced from the darkness a small tin box, which they had not seen before, which he deposited in the hole he had dug. Then he shovelled the earth back upon it, stamping it in with his feet, and so refilled the hole. The remaining loose earth he scattered about the cellar.

The boys waited no longer, but crept back to the edge of the woods. In a few minutes they saw a faint flash of light through one of the windows in the floor above, and presently they saw the man come out of the door in the front of the house. He had extinguished the lantern and was still carrying the spade. As he walked quickly down the path to the landing-place, he left the path and hid the spade beneath some underbrush, after which he disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

Finally they saw him out in the middle of the cove, pulling vigorously for the other sh.o.r.e.

"Well," said Henry Burns, as they watched him out of sight, "there are lots of sick men whom I would rather meet over here in the night-time than that same Mr. Kemble."

"He's as strong as a lion," said young Joe. "Did you see the veins stand out on his arms as he worked? I felt like making for the woods every time he straightened himself up, with that spade in his hand."

"I don't believe any of us felt any too comfortable," said Tom, "though I'm sure I shouldn't be afraid to meet him in the daytime, with Bob and one of the rest of us. It's the influence of the night-time that frightened us. And he seemed to be right in his element in it."

"Let's dig that box up and get away from here and discuss the matter afterward," said George. "It's getting late, and we don't want mother to worry. I'll get the spade." And he ran and brought it.

They went into the haunted house then, groping their way in the darkness, for they had left their own lantern in the dory. They made their way to the kitchen and found the cellar door, with some difficulty. Then, lest the old stairs should be unsafe, they went down one at a time.

It was an easy matter to unearth the box, though they worked in utter darkness. When they had secured it, they refilled the hole and then stamped the earth down as they had found it. This being done, they were glad enough to get away from the house, to replace the spade beneath the underbrush, where the man had hidden it, and hurry down to the sh.o.r.e.

Launching the dory, they embarked, Henry Burns carrying the box, and, with George and Arthur Warren at the oars, they had soon crossed the cove and landed on the beach.

There, too, was the _Anna_, drawn high up on sh.o.r.e, where the stranger had left it. It was a large and heavy boat, and it must have required enormous strength in one man to drag it there.