There was a sharp ringing of
the bell, the police operator responding quickly.
"Police Headquarters. What's wanted? McAdams; no he is not in just
now. Who is calling him? Harbour Master's office; all right; hold the
wire a minute."
He turned his head around.
"Must be your case, Captain; better hear what they have to say."
West grasped the receiver eagerly.
"Is this the Seminole matter?" he asked swiftly. "Certainly, I
understand about it. What's that. Oh, Winchell told you to call up if
you learned anything. Of course; what is it? Yes, I hear; just found her
tied up at north side of Municipal Pier. What's the trouble? Engine
working bad, and had to come in, hey? All right--thanks; I'll go
straight over and see them."
This was great luck, yet there was very little he could hope to
accomplish alone, without the help and authority of McAdams. Even if the
vessel had been stolen--which was probably not true--he possessed no
power of arrest. All he could hope to do would be to keep the fellows in
sight until Mac showed up, and, if possible, prevent them from putting
out into the lake again. Even in that he needs must be cautious not to be
seen by any of the gang who might recognize him. An alarm, proving they
were being followed, would doubtless send them scattering instantly. If
they were to be trapped, no suspicion could be aroused.
West thought of all these things as a taxi bore him across the city to
the pier, and acted accordingly.
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