# Fairview Boys at Lighthouse Cove/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII
DRIVEN BACK
Sammy's two chums did not answer for a minute. They looked at each other, and then Frank exclaimed:
"I've got a bite, and a big one, too. Pass that net down here!"
For a moment the prospect of catching another crab was greater even than the chance of finding out something about the strange man. Bob handed his companion the net, and Frank cautiously began pulling up on the cord to which was fastened the chunk of meat-bait. With his other hand he held the net ready to plunge into the water, and scoop up his prize.
"There he is!" cried Bob, whose bait was not then being taken. "Get him, Frank!"
"I will. Don't get excited and rock the boat. I'll have him in a minute!"
"There!" exclaimed Sammy, whose attention was also taken away from the man for the moment. "Net him!"
Frank plunged the net into the water, trying to get it under the crab, which was clinging to the meat with its claws. But the boy was not quite quick enough, or else he hit the crab with the iron ring of the net, for the creature suddenly let go, and with a quick motion of his broad, swimming flippers went scurrying off into the depths again.
"Oh, he got away!" cried Bob, in disappointed tones.
"You weren't quite quick enough," spoke Sammy.
​"I was so! You jiggled my arm, and made the net hit him!" exclaimed Frank. "It was the biggest one I had, too; a yellow fellow, full of meat!" and he gazed reproachfully at Sammy.
"I did not jiggle your arm!" returned Sammy.
"You did so!"
"I did not!"
"Fellows, if we're going to trail that mysterious man, let's do it, and not scrap," suggested Bob. This was as near to a quarrel as any of the chums ever got. Frank's little burst of temper was soon over.
"Well, we've got enough crabs, anyhow," he said, looking into the basket where they were kept, covered with seaweed, so the sun would not make them die. For crabs are only good when cooked alive, or soon after they have died. Otherwise they are very likely to be poisonous.
"Yes, we have a good mess," agreed Sammy. "I didn't mean to jiggle your arm, if I did, Frank," he went on. "I'll give you one of my crabs to pay for it, if you say so."
"You will not! They all go in the same kettle, anyhow. Say, Bob," he went on, "what's the matter with having a clam roast out on the beach some night?"
"Sure we can," said Bob. "We'll build a fire, roast clams and boil crabs, and have some of the other fellows over. That'll be fun!"
"It sure will," agreed Sammy. "But say, fellows, what about him?" and he nodded in the direction of the old man in the clump of evergreen trees. He was still digging away, seemingly paying no attention to anything, or anyone, around him. "Are we going to follow him, or not?"
"We can't follow him, when he isn't going anywhere," observed Bob.
"No, but he may start off at any time," said Sammy. "We ​could tell where he lives, and then we could find out something about him. As it is now we can't even tell who he is, and there are a lot of men who look like him around Lighthouse Cove."
"Well, what's your plan?" asked Frank, carefully pulling up his crab line, in the hope that the big fellow had again taken the meat. One was there, but it was so small that he shook it off, not wanting to net it.
"I say let's row close over to where he is," suggested Sammy. "Then, when he starts off, we can go ashore and follow him."
"Maybe he's got a boat hidden somewhere on shore," said Bob. "Let's take a look."
The boys scanned the beach, but could see nothing of another craft. Meanwhile, the old man in the clump of evergreens continued to dig away. He paid no attention to the boys.
"Tell you what it is," said Sammy, at length, "we've got to play foxy now. We don't want any more of that hermit business."
"What do you mean?" asked Frank.
"Well, you know what happened when we followed that old man on Pine Island. He pushed us over a cliff into a snow bank."
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Bob.
"What's the matter?" demanded Sammy. "I don't see anything to laugh at."
"You don't?" Well, there's no snow bank, for one thing."
"Well, you now what I mean," said Sammy. "He might make trouble for us. I say we'd better be careful."
"That's what I say, too," agreed Frank. "Now the best way, I think, will be to let our boat drift. We can pretend ​we are crabbing, but we can pull up the anchor, and the tide will take us nearly to where he is digging. He can't say anything, if we do that, for we have a right to drift."
"Yes, and then we can see if he has a boat," added Sammy. "I guess that's the best plan. But what about these crabs, Bob? Won't your mother want them for dinner?"
"No, she's going to make them into a salad for supper. We fellows will have to cook 'em, and pick 'em out of the shells, I expect. There will be time enough when we get in. Let's trail this old man now."
Accordingly the small pronged anchor, that held the boat from drifting while the crabbing was going on, was hauled up, and put in the bow. Then, while pretending to be busy with their crab lines, the boys let their craft drift with the tide over toward the shore.
The old man was still digging away, but he had moved his position and was now deeper in the clump of trees.
"I'm sure he's after pirate gold!" exclaimed Sammy, in a whisper, for he knew sounds carry very distinctly over water, and he did not want the digging man to hear him.
"He's after something, right enough," agreed Frank. "What it is we can find out later."
"There's a boat, anyhow," put in Bob, pointing to one partly hidden under some brush and seaweed not far from the shore.
"That's right!" cried Sammy. "That shows he came from some other part of the Cove. We'll follow him!"
But, for the present, the man did not show any sign of being about to leave the clump of trees. He was digging away, paying no attention to anything around him, save to glance up now and then. If he saw the boys, as he must have done, he gave no sign.
Bob and his two chums, now that they were where they ​wanted to get, again threw the anchor overboard, and resumed their crabbing. But luck was not so good here, the boat being too near shore. However, they wanted an excuse for remaining near the man, and this gave them one.
"Here he comes!" suddenly exclaimed Sammy, as he wound up his crab line for future use. "Get ready now, boys."
The others looked up. Coming down toward the beach was the strange old man. Over his shoulder were a pick and a shovel, and in one hand he carried a square wooden box, with a strap for a handle.
"What do you s'pose he has that for?" asked Frank.
"To put the gold in," said Sammy, promptly, "or else that holds the map, and directions for finding the treasure."
"The directions can't be very good," spoke Bob, "for he's been digging in lots of places, far apart, too. I think that gold business is all bosh!"
"Hush! He'll hear you!" cautioned Frank, for the old man had looked sharply in the direction of the boys.
"I don't care," spoke Bob. "This is a free country."
The boys had again pulled up anchor, and taken to the oars. They were pulling out from shore now. The old man went to where the other boat was partly hidden, and slid it down over the sand to the water. Then, putting in his tools and the box, he entered the craft himself, and began to row up toward the head of the Cove.
"Come on!" said Sammy, to his chums. "We've got to follow."
"Do you think we'd better?" asked Frank.
"Sure; why not?" was the answer. "We've got to find out about him; haven't we?"
To this the others had no objection. They were as interested, now, as Sammy was in solving the mystery. So, when the old ​man rowed off, more quickly than the boys supposed one of his age could do, they followed, but at a distance.
The day was a fine one, there was only a little wind, and the tide was with them.
"But it won't be so easy rowing back against the current," said Bob.
"Oh, don't worry," advised Sammy, eager to find where the strange man lived.
They did not have long to wait. A little later, after turning a point of land, the man rowed up to a small dock, in front of a small house, and, tieing his boat there, got out and went up the slope.
"Come on!" called Sammy, a moment later. "Let's go ashore."
"Maybe he won't like it," suggested Frank.
"Oh, he won't care," was the answer. "He's seen us following him, and he didn't say anything. Come on."
Rather against their will, Frank and Bob followed Sammy. He sent the boat up on the beach, and threw out the anchor in the sand to hold the craft against the tide. Then, followed by his chums, he approached the small cottage.
But if the boys imagined the aged man was going to witness their approach in silence they were disappointed. He reached his porch, and putting his pick, shovel and box down there, turned and hurried to meet Sammy and his chums.
"Did you boys want to see me?" he asked, and his voice was rather stern. He did not speak like the fishermen of the cove, but more, as Sammy said afterward, like Mr. Tetlow, the school principal, when he was angry.
"We—we just wanted to see," began Sammy, uncertain whether or not to tell his suspicions about the pirate gold, and to be allowed a share in the secret.
"Now look here, boys!" interrupted the aged man, ​sternly. "I don't want to be harsh toward you, but you must get away from here. I said nothing when you followed me, not thinking you would land on my property. This is private land, and there has been a 'no trespass' sign up, but it has fallen down. I will put it up again. I want no strangers around here.
"My neighbors around me know this, and do not bother me. It is probably because you are strangers that you have come here. Now I will not have it. Later on I may be glad to see you, but now I must ask you to leave!"
He stood looking at the boys sternly. They had been ordered away, and there was nothing for them to do but to obey.