"
"Go talk to Tom Pearce, and do not be the coward to repeat
your threats to me!"
The girl started to move away, when the man suddenly leaped
forward and grasped her in his arms, but the same instant he
received a blow which sent him reeling, as the girl was
snatched from his rude grasp.
A curse fell from the man's lips, and he arose to his feet and
advanced toward the man who had struck him.
"Run home, little girl!" whispered the detective; "I will take
care of this brute!"
"Thank you!" said the girl, and she glided away along the
beach.
"See here, you're the man who struck me?"
"Yes; I'm the man."
"I think I've seen you before."
"I think we've met before."
"What did you hit me for?"
"I struck you because you put your hands rudely upon the
girl."
"Yer did, eh?"
"Yes."
The man leaned toward the detective with the remark:
"Well, it's my turn now!"
And his turn it proved to be, as he received a rap, which
caused him to turn clean over.
Sol Burton was raving mad when he once more regained his feet;
the fellow was an ugly chap, a great bully ashore, and a cruel
heartless man afloat. As he arose he exclaimed:
"All right, you're fixed for me to-night; but my time will
come! I'll get square with you before you're much older!"
Sol Burton turned and walked away a baffled man.
Spencer Vance walked to the point on the beach where he had
stood when the girl had come to him with the strange warning.
The young man was a Government officer, a special detective,
and had been assigned to the collector at the port of New
York to run down an organized gang of smugglers who were known
to be doing a large business off the Long Island coast.
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