Page:The House On The Cliff.pdf/56

50 "How come you to be in such a mess as this?" he asked, at last. "What were they shootin' at you for?"

"Don't ask me, please," said the mysterious Jones. "I can't tell you. I can't tell you anything."

"I suppose you know these young fellers saved your life?"

"Yes—I know—and I'm very grateful. But don't ask me any questions. I can't tell you anything about it."

"You won't even tell them? Not after they saved your life?"

Jones shook his head stubbornly.

"I can't explain anything about it. Please go away. Let me sleep."

Frank and Joe signaled to the farmer that it would be best if they withdrew, so they left the room and closed the door. When they went back downstairs the farmer was grumbling to himself.

"I'm hanged if he ain't the most close-mouthed lad I've ever seen!" he declared. "You saved his life and he won't tell you why he come to be racin' around the bay in a motorboat with fellows shootin' at him."

"He must have some good reason. It's his own business, after all," reflected Frank. "We can't force him to explain anything."

"He's in with them smugglers, that's what