Jake gave him a curious look. "Your nerve's pretty good, but do you want to defy your enemies and show them you have found out their trick?" "But I haven't found it out; that is, I don't know the object of it yet." "Well," said Jake rather grimly, "what do you think would happen if a drunken man tried to walk along that pipe?" Then a light dawned on Dick and he sat down, feeling limp. He was abstemious, and a large dose of strong spirit would, no doubt, have unsteadied him. His companions would notice this, but with the obstinacy that often marks a half-drunk man he would probably have insisted on trying to cross the pipe. Then a slip or hesitation would have precipitated him upon the unfinished ironwork below, and since an obvious explanation of his fall had been supplied, nobody's suspicions would have been aroused. The subtlety of the plot was unnerving. Somebody who knew all about him had chosen the moment well. "It's so devilishly clever!" he said with hoarse anger after a moment or two. Jake nodded. "They're smart. They knew the boys were coming to make a row and Stuyvesant wouldn't have them on the veranda. Then the wine was on the table, and anybody who'd noticed where we sat could tell your glass. It would have been easy to creep up to the shack before the moon rose." "Who are _they_?" "If I knew, I could tell you what to do about it, but I don't. It's possible there was only one man, but if so, he's dangerous. Anyhow, it's obvious that Kenwardine has no part in the matter." "He's not in this," Dick agreed. "Have you a cigarette? I think I'd like a smoke. It doesn't follow that I'd have been killed, if I had fallen." "Then you'd certainly have got hurt enough to keep you quiet for some time, which would probably satisfy the other fellow. But I don't think we'll stop here talking; there may be somebody about." They climbed down by the foot of the tower and crossing the sluice went up the ladder. When they reached their shack Dick sat down and lighted the cigarette Jake had given him, but he said nothing and his face was sternly set. Soon afterwards he went to bed. CHAPTER XXVI THE LINER'S FATE Next morning Dick reviewed the situation as he ate his breakfast in the fresh coolness before the sun got up. He had got a shock, but he was young and soon recovered. His anger against the unknown plotter remained fierce, but this was, in a sense, a private grievance, by which he must not be unduly influenced. It was plain that he was thought dangerous, which showed that he was following the right clue, and he had determined that the raiding of ships belonging to Britain or her allies must be stopped. Since he had gone to the representative of British authority and had been rebuffed, he meant to get Fuller to see if American suspicions could be easier aroused, but he must first make sure of his ground. In the meantime, Don Sebastian had asked his help and he had given a conditional promise.