The voice sounded familiar to the boys and they looked up. Not altogether to their surprise, they saw that the fellow was none other than Redhead, whom they had seen at the Polucca place the day Frank discovered his father’s cap. “Do with them?” exclaimed Snackley. “That’s quite a problem. We have three on our hands now, where we had only one. We have to make three people keep their mouths shut instead of only one. We have three people to keep guard over now.” “We ought to do what I wanted to do in the first place,” declared Redhead doggedly. “As long as Hardy is alive, he’s dangerous.” “You mean we should get rid of him?” “Sure, we ought to get rid of him—and get rid of those boys of his, too.” “That’s easier said than done,” returned Snackley, but with a sinister look at the man on the cot. “I should think you had enough on your conscience already, Snackley!” exclaimed Fenton Hardy. “But I suppose you’re hardened enough for anything,” he added bitterly. He was thinking more of his sons and their possible fate than of himself. “Don’t you bother about my conscience,” sneered Snackley; but a shadow crossed his face. “What do you know about me, anyhow?” he demanded roughly. “I know all about what happened to Felix Polucca. He had a big treasure hidden in that house on the cliff and you got it, and then you started to use the place for your smuggling operations.” “O, shut up!” Snackley snapped. “I’m going to fix you, and those kids of yours, too! Just wait and see!” Four of the smugglers had been whispering among themselves at the back of the room during this talk between the chief smuggler and the detective, and now one of these men stepped forward. “Got a word to say to you, chief,” he began, addressing Snackley. “What is it now?” The chief smuggler’s voice was surly. “It’s about what’s to be done with these three, now we have ’em prisoners,” returned the man hesitatingly. “Of course, your business is your own and we’re not asking any questions about what happened to Felix Polucca, but we’re in this game of smuggling, see? We don’t stand for anything that’s too red-handed.” “That’s the truth!” put in another of the men. “Kind of chicken-hearted,” sneered Snackley. “You look out or I’ll fire the lot of you!” “No, you won’t, chief,” replied the first man who had addressed him. “We’ve helped in this smuggling, and we’re going to have our full share of what’s coming to us.” “We’ve got another plan about those three prisoners,” put in a fellow who had not yet spoken. “I think it would work out grand.” “What plan?” questioned the chief smuggler briefly. “We’ve been talking about Li Chang.” “What about him?” “Turn ’em over to Li Chang. He’s sailing back to China in the morning. Have ’em put on board his ship.” Snackley scratched his head for a moment. Evidently the idea caught his fancy.