akable. He had heard both voices before. "What have
you made out?"

"Nothing."

"No boat landed?"

"Nor no sign o' one, master. Both lads swear as no one has passed along
the lane."

"Wouldn't take the upper lane, would they?"

"Not likely."

"Upper lane!" thought Archy. Had he taken the upper lane in the
darkness, and so missed the men on the watch?

"Didn't hear the sailors say nothing on the cutter, did you?"

"Not a word."

The middy's heart seemed to give a throb. He did know that voice then.
It was that of the man who had been detained with the boy, and this
other, he was sure, was the voice of the farmer.

"Going to keep on watching?"

"Of course. They'll be up to some game to trap us safe. Ought to get
that stuff away."

"No, I wouldn't, master; it's safe enough now."

"You're a fool," came back in a savage growl. "Anybody but you and that
mole-eyed boy would have seen the kegs before them sailors."

"Did see 'em--when it was too late," grumbled the other.

"Well, go back; and take off them boots, and hang 'em round your neck.
I could hear you a mile away."

"Right."

"Go and tell 'em to keep a sharp look-out in the cove, and then to run
the moment a boat comes in sight."

"No boat won't come in sight to-night. Dark."

"Then the moment you hear one."

"They won't come to-night, master."

"Go and do as I tell you," said the other savagely.

"It's the farmer and his man," thought the listener; "and there is
something wrong."

He wondered what he had better do. Should he give notice to them on the
cutter?

The answer came at once. How could he? He had made no plans for that.

"Off you go," was said roughly, and the rustling sound seemed to
indicate that the man had gone back toward the cove.

Archy listened patiently for the next movement of the farmer, but he
could detect nothing, and he was feeling sure that the man was still
watching and listening, when he heard a sneeze at a distance followed by
a muttering sound, and knew that he must have moved off.

Without a moment's hesitation the lad followed, keeping along the grassy
marge of the road, and listening intently to make out at last the dull
sound of steps, which told that the man who made them was walking
barefoot.

As far as he could judge now, Archy was in the proper road, and as he
walked along he tried to understand what was going on, coming at last to
the conclusion at which he had at first jumped, that