ground. The moon was low down.
What time had they left home? Two o'clock? By the look of the moon it
must be near four now. That would be about right. Although it seemed a
lifetime, although an excess of excitement had been crowded into that
period, still only about two hours had elapsed.

Having the door of the radio station in full view, and observing no
signs of life, as would have been the case providing some one had been
present, for he would have been drawn to the door by this new and
closer outburst of fighting, Jack decided to chance crossing the glade
directly.

Darting ahead, he crouched listening, heard nothing, then flung wide
the door which opened outward and sprang back. The moonlight fell full
inside a long bar of light. The sending room, at least, was empty. Now
for the power plant.

Jack entered, going warily, knife clutched in his hand, despite his
growing confidence that he had the place to himself. There was a door
at the rear. Behind that must be the power plant. He set his ear to
the door. Only the low hum of a dynamo came to his ears. He had
expected that, for wiring glimpsed outside the Brownell house and
leading in this direction through the trees had indicated the house
current was supplied from the power house here. But was anyone in that
other room, in attendance?

There was a key in the connecting door. He tried the handle softly.
The door was locked. Good. At least he would be safe from surprise
from that quarter. All the while, in order to guard against surprise
from the outside, he had been standing sideways, one eye on the outer
door. Now something glimpsed there surprised an exclamation from him.

It was not that anyone appeared in the doorway. No, but offshore and
not far distant a bright searchlight suddenly cut athwart the night,
putting the moonlight to shame. It swung in a wide arc across the sky
and then came down to the shore and began moving relentlessly along
the beach.

He could not follow its movements fully. He could not see whence it
came. The grove of trees intervening between the shore of Starfish
Cove and the radio plant cut off complete view. But a wild hope leaped
into his mind. Would the smugglers in the liquor ship offshore be
likely to show a light? He did not consider it likely. Then, what sort
of ship was it probable the light came from?

"By George," he said aloud, "maybe that's a boat of the 'Dry Navy'
already on the track of these scoundrels."

He st