They emerged from the grove. They could see the white line of the surf ahead and the gray shapes of the rocks along the shore. The cove lay below.
The Hardy boys raced down the rocky slope. Only then did they become aware of the fact that their chums were not following.
Frank stopped and turned.
"Where are Chet and Biff?" he asked, startled.
"I thought they were right behind," replied Joe blankly.
They listened. There were no sounds of running footsteps down the trail. Back in the grove they could hear a frenzied crackling of branches, but whether it was caused by their comrades or by their pursuers they could not tell.
"They must have taken the wrong turning in the dark," declared Frank, as the solution dawned on him. "Quick—we'll get to the boat first! If we can find them we'll bring them with us. If we can't we'll have to make for the mainland alone."
A flash of scarlet light showed against the blackness of the bush as a revolver crashed out, and a scattering of rock close by told them that the bullet had been meant for them. The gangsters were near at hand.
Without another word the Hardy boys turned
