The man was coming nearer, walking at a steady though not rapid gait. Tom hugged himself as close to the ground as he could, peering between two stones in the wall. For an instant, as the other went by, Halstead had a good glimpse of the fellow. Where Alvarez had but a moustache, this man had a full black beard. Gone were the brown striped trousers, for this man wore a blue serge suit. But the face was swarthy; there was the same gleam in the dark eyes. Even the way of holding the fuming little cigarette was the same.
“It’s Alvarez, or his double, disguised,” breathed Halstead, frantic with joy. “I’ll jump on him, and pin him to the earth!”
On swift second thought the excited boy changed his mind. It might serve a far bigger purpose to follow this swarthy little rascal, if he could do so undetected.
Alvarez, apparently, wasn’t suspicions of being trailed, for he kept steadily on. Halstead followed on the other side of the wall, ready to drop out of sight at the first sign of the other’s turning. When the wall ended the boy found other shelter, and followed on. It was but a short chase. A quarter of a mile further on the Spaniard left the road, pushing his way through the bushes and undergrowth of a patch of woods until he came to a small, almost hidden cove. And in this cove, her stern within stepping distance of the land, lay a yellow-hulled steam launch.
Tom sank low behind the bushes, and peered through. He could see all that followed.
A man who had been dozing up in a seat by the bow of the boat now awoke and turned, displaying the face of a negro. He was a big and strong built fellow. And Tom, the instant he heard that low call from the bearded stranger, knew it to be Alvarez’s voice.
Pedro hurried to the stern. Some talk between the two followed, but in tones so low that Halstead could understand not a word of it, until the Spaniard, half turning away, finished by saying:
“I’ll be back soon. Be ready—and be watchful.”
The negro nodded heavily as the Spaniard started away. But this time Tom Halstead made no effort to follow the swarthy one. If the Spaniard was to return, that would not be necessary.
“I wonder how fast I can return to Nantucket, and then be ready to chase this craft when she shows her nose outside?” wondered the boy. “For it’s five to one this launch will make for Alvarez’s hiding-place, and that is where Ted Dunstan is to be found. Yet—confound it all!—if I give chase in the ‘Meteor,’ Alvarez certainly won’t lead us to the place.”