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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:28 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:28 -0700 |
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diff --git a/28449-h/28449-h.htm b/28449-h/28449-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cdd3c03 --- /dev/null +++ b/28449-h/28449-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7911 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless, by H. Irving Hancock. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.0em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; text-align:center;} + .caption {font-size:.9em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.2em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless, by +H. Irving Hancock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless + The Dot, Dash and Dare Cruise + +Author: H. Irving Hancock + +Release Date: March 30, 2009 [EBook #28449] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR BOAT CLUB *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus-01.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 357px; height: 552px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 357px;'> +Dawson Sent the Chair Spinning Across the Room. <i>Frontispiece</i>.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:2em;margin-top:20px;font-size:2em;'>The Motor Boat Club<br /> +and The Wireless</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:3em;'>OR</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:2em;font-size:1.3em;'>The Dot, Dash and Dare Cruise</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>By</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'>H. IRVING HANCOCK</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'>Author of The Motor Boat Club of the Kennebec<br /> +The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket<br /> +The Motor Boat Club off Long Island, Etc.</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:3em;margin-bottom:3em;'>Illustrated</p> +<p class='tp' style='letter-spacing:0.8em;'>PHILADELPHIA</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:20px;'>HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-variant:small-caps;'>Copyright 1909, by Howard E. Altemus</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Spark Puts Three Boys and a Boat on the Jump</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_A_SPARK_PUTS_THREE_BOYS_AND_A_BOAT_ON_THE_JUMP'>7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Some of the Mystery Unraveled</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_SOME_OF_THE_MYSTERY_UNRAVELED'>26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Invisible Hands at the Wireless</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_INVISIBLE_HANDS_AT_THE_WIRELESS'>39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Taking a Great Chance</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_TAKING_A_GREAT_CHANCE'>50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Tom Matches One Trick With Another</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_TOM_MATCHES_ONE_TRICK_WITH_ANOTHER'>61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Carrying Dangerous Live “Freight”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_CARRYING_DANGEROUS_LIVE_FREIGHT'>70</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Powell Seaton’s Bad Case of “Forget”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_POWELL_SEATONS_BAD_CASE_OF_FORGET'>78</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Red Message</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THE_RED_MESSAGE'>85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mr. Seaton Unburdens Himself</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_MR_SEATON_UNBURDENS_HIMSELF'>92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Traitor at the Aerials</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_TRAITOR_AT_THE_AERIALS'>105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Drab Boat Shows Her Nose</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_THE_DRAB_BOAT_SHOWS_HER_NOSE'>114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Searchlight Finds a “Double”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_THE_SEARCHLIGHT_FINDS_A_DOUBLE'>127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Tom Halstead—Ready!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_TOM_HALSTEADREADY'>139</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Grit Goes up the Signal Mast</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_GRIT_GOES_UP_THE_SIGNAL_MAST'>151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Playing Salt Water Blind Man’s Buff</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_PLAYING_SALT_WATER_BLIND_MANS_BUFF'>160</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Gleam of Hope Through the Shroud of Fog</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_A_GLEAM_OF_HOPE_THROUGH_THE_SHROUD_OF_FOG'>171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>When the Motor Boat Club Boys “Went Daffy”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_WHEN_THE_MOTOR_BOAT_CLUB_BOYS_WENT_DAFFY'>179</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The First Kink of the Problem Solved</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_FIRST_KINK_OF_THE_PROBLEM_SOLVED'>187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Helpless in the Northeaster!</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_HELPLESS_IN_THE_NORTHEASTER'>196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>“C.Q.D! C.Q.D.!—Help!”</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_CQD_CQDHELP'>207</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Spark Finds a Friend Through the Gale</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_THE_SPARK_FINDS_A_FRIEND_THROUGH_THE_GALE'>219</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Tom Halstead Springs the Climax</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_TOM_HALSTEAD_SPRINGS_THE_CLIMAX'>230</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hank Becomes Really Terrible</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_HANK_BECOMES_REALLY_TERRIBLE'>244</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Conclusion</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_CONCLUSION'>249</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></div> +<p style='font-size:1.3em; text-align:center; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:0em;font-size:1.4em;'>The Motor Boat Club and the Wireless</p> +<hr style='margin-bottom:20px; margin-top:20px;border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:70px' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_A_SPARK_PUTS_THREE_BOYS_AND_A_BOAT_ON_THE_JUMP' id='CHAPTER_I_A_SPARK_PUTS_THREE_BOYS_AND_A_BOAT_ON_THE_JUMP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>A SPARK PUTS THREE BOYS AND A BOAT ON THE JUMP</h3> +</div> +<p>“Ho, ho, ho—hum!” grumbled Hank +Butts, vainly trying to stifle a prodigious +yawn. “This may be what +Mr. Seaton calls a vacation on full pay, but I’d +rather work.”</p> +<p>“It <i>is</i> fearfully dull, loafing around, in this +fashion, on a lonely island, yet in plain sight of +the sea that we long to rove over,” nodded Captain +Tom Halstead of the motor yacht “Restless.”</p> +<p>“Yet Hank just put us in mind of the fact +that we’re getting paid for our time,” laughed +Joe Dawson, the least restless of the trio of +young Motor Boat Club boys.</p> +<p>“Oh it’s all right on the pay end,” agreed +Hank, readily. “But just think of a young fellow, +full of life and hope, with a dozen ambitions +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +and a hustling nature, taking up with a +job of this kind!”</p> +<p>“What kind of job?” inquired Captain Tom.</p> +<p>“The job of being bored,” answered Butts, +solemnly. “I could have had that kind of job +back on Long Island.”</p> +<p>“Without the pay,” amended Joe Dawson, +with another quiet smile.</p> +<p>“But ten days of being bored <i>does</i> grow +rather wearisome, even with the pay for a +solace,” agreed Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>Ting-ling-ling! The soft jangling of a bell +from one of the rooms of the seashore bungalow, +on the porch of which the boys sat, broke +in on them.</p> +<p>“Hurrah, Joe! Hustle and get that message,” +begged Hank, almost sitting up straight +in the porch chair, with a comical pretense of +excitement. “It’s sure to be from Mr. Seaton +this time.”</p> +<p>“Likely,” grinned Joe, as he rose and crossed +the porch in leisurely fashion. The jangling of +the bell continued. The bell was a rather +clumsy, yet sufficing device that young Dawson +had attached to the wireless telegraph apparatus.</p> +<p>For, though this bungalow on a little island +southwest of Beaufort, North Carolina, had an +appearance of being wholly out of the world, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +yet the absent owner, Mr. Powell Seaton, had +contrived to put his place very much “in the +world” by installing wireless telegraphy at the +bungalow. On the premises was operated a +complete electrical plant that furnished energy +enough to send messages for hundreds of miles +along the coast.</p> +<p>For Joe, the mechanical genius of the Motor +Boat Club, had always had a passion for telegraphy. +Of late he had gone in in earnest for +the wireless kind, and had rapidly mastered +its most essential details.</p> +<p>The bell told when electrical waves were rushing +through the air at marvelous speed, though +it did not distinguish between any general wave +and the special call for this bungalow station, +which was by the letters “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>CBA</span>.”</p> +<p>When Joe Dawson went into the room under +the tall aerials that hung from the mast, he expected +to listen only to some message not in the +least intended for this station.</p> +<p>Seating himself by the relay, with its Morse +register close at hand, Joe Dawson picked up +and adjusted the head-band with its pair of +watch-case receivers. He then hastily picked +up a pencil, shoved a pad of paper close under +his hand and listened.</p> +<p>All this he did with a dull, listless air. He +had not the slightest forewarning of the great +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +jolt that was soon to come to himself and his +comrades out of the atmosphere.</p> +<p>The call, whatever it was, had ended. Yet, +after a pause of a few seconds, it began to +sound again. Joe’s listless air vanished as the +new set of dots and dashes came in, clamoring +in clicking haste against his ear drums.</p> +<p>“To Every Wireless Station—Urgent!” ran +the first few words. Joe’s nimble fingers pushed +his pencil, recording letter after letter until +these words were down. Then, dropping his +pencil for the sending key, young Dawson transmitted +a crashing electric impulse into the air, +flashing through space over hundreds of miles +the station signal, “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>CBA</span>.”</p> +<p>“Have you a fast, seaworthy boat within immediate +call?” came back out of the invisible +distance over the ocean.</p> +<p>“A twenty-six-mile sea-going motor boat +right at the pier here,” Joe flashed back, again +adding his signature, “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>CBA</span>.”</p> +<p>“Good!” came back the answer. “Then +listen hard—act quick—life at stake!”</p> +<p>Joe Dawson not only listened. His thoughts +flew with the dots and dashes of the wireless +message; his right hand rushed the pencil in +recording all of that wonderful message as it +came to him. It was tragedy that Dawson wrote +down at the dictation of this impatient operator +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +far out on the Atlantic highways. Almost in the +midst of it came a feverish break-in from land, +and another hand was playing in the great game +of life and death, fame and dishonor, riches +and intrigue. All was being unfolded by +means of the unseen, far-reaching wireless +telegraph.</p> +<p>As Joe listened, wrote, and occasionally broke +in to send a few words, the dew of cold perspiration +stood out on his brow. His fingers +trembled. With a great effort of the will this +motor boat boy steadied his nerves and muscles +in order to see through to the end this mysterious +thing coming out of space.</p> +<p>While this was going on, Joe Dawson did not +call out to either of his comrades. With an +instinct that worked as fast as the wireless messages +themselves, young Dawson chose to put +off calling the other motor boat boys until he +had the whole startling tale to tell them—until +he had in complete form the coming orders that +would send all three of them and the “Restless” +on a tireless sea-chase.</p> +<p>While this flood of dots and dashes is coming +in from seaward, and from landward, it is well +that the reader be put in possession of some information +that will make clearer to him the nature +of the dramatic events that followed this +sudden in-pouring of wireless messages to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +little “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>CBA</span>” bungalow station on this island +off the North Carolina coast.</p> +<p>Readers of the preceding volume of this series, +“<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motor Boat Club Off Long Island</span>,” +will at once recall that story, throbbing with +the interest of human life—will remember how +faithfully and wisely Tom Halstead, Joe Dawson +and Hank Butts, all members of the Motor +Boat Club, served that leader in Wall Street +finance, Francis Delavan, and the latter’s nervous, +wavering friend, Eben Moddridge. To +such former readers the tale is familiar of how +the Motor Boat Club boys aided materially in +frustrating a great conspiracy in finance, aimed +against their employer. Saved from ruin by +the grit, keenness and loyalty of these three +members of the Motor Boat Club, Messrs. Delavan +and Moddridge had handsomely rewarded +the boys for their signal services.</p> +<p>As Hank Butts preferred, for family reasons, +to spend his summers, and much of his other +time, on Long Island, he had been presented +with a thirty-foot launch, a shore lot at East +Hampton, and a “shack” and pier. Tom Halstead +and Joe Dawson, fast friends and both +from the same little Kennebec River village, +preferring always the broad ocean, had been +made the owners of the “Soudan,” a fine, sea-going, +fifty-five foot motor cruising yacht built +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +for deep sea work. Though the “Soudan” had +a very comfortable beam of fifteen feet, she was +nevertheless equipped with twin gasoline motors +that could send her over the waters at some +twenty-five or twenty-six miles an hour.</p> +<p>With the gift of the boat to Tom and Joe came +also a present of money enough to make the two +new young owners able to put her in commission +and keep her going for awhile.</p> +<p>It was not intended by Messrs. Delavan and +Moddridge that Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson +should be able to keep their new prize and property +running for their own pleasure. On the +contrary the givers of this splendid present believed +that the two boys would ply under charter +for wealthy pleasure seekers, thus making a +splendid living. In summer there were the +northern waters; in winter the southern waters. +Thus it was believed that Captain Tom Halstead +and Engineer Joe Dawson would be in a position +to earn a handsome income from their boat +the year around. At any time, should they so +choose, they could sell the boat.</p> +<p>Sell her? It would almost have broken honest, +impulsive, loyal Tom Halstead’s heart to +sell this precious boat! Joe Dawson, quiet +though he was, would have flown into a rage at +any suggestion of his parting with his interest +in the handsome, capable little craft! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></p> +<p>The owners had re-christened the boat the +“Restless.” Within ten days after the boys +had left the employ of Mr. Delavan, Captain +Tom had encountered Mr. Powell Seaton in New +York. A few hours after that meeting the boys +had had their boat chartered for at least the +month of September. Then, after receiving +their orders, they proceeded south to their present +location on Lonely Island, five miles off the +mainland. They were accompanied by Hank +Butts, who had left his small boat in other hands +and accepted temporary employment on the +“Restless.”</p> +<p>The island possessed an area of about half a +square mile. The bungalow itself, a shed that +was used as an electric power station, and a +third building that contained a telescope and +some other astronomical apparatus were the +sole interesting features of this island.</p> +<p>After the chartering, and the payment of half +the hire-money in advance for the month, not +one of these Motor Boat Club boys had laid eyes +on Mr. Powell Seaton. After cruising down +from New York, and taking possession of the +bungalow, as ordered, they had remained there +ten whole days, idle and wondering. Idle, that +is, except for running the electric power plant +as much as was needed, making their own beds +and doing their own cooking. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></p> +<p>For what purpose had Powell Seaton wanted +them and the “Restless”? Now, as Dawson’s +active fingers pushed the pencil through the +mazes of recorded messages, that active-minded +young man began to get a glimpse.</p> +<p>“Sounds like something big, Joe,” smiled +Captain Tom, his eyes twinkling under the visor +of his uniform cap as he thrust his head in +through the doorway.</p> +<p>“It is,” muttered Joe, in a low but tense +voice. “Just wait. I’ve got one to send.”</p> +<p>His fingers moved busily at the key for a little +while. Then, snatching up the sheets of +paper on which he had written, Joe Dawson +leaped to his feet in such haste that he sent the +chair spinning across the room.</p> +<p>Such impulsiveness in Dawson was so utterly +unusual that Captain Tom Halstead gasped.</p> +<p>“Come on!” called Joe, darting to the door. +“Down to the boat!”</p> +<p>“Where––?” began Tom Halstead, but he +got only as far as that word, for Joe shot back:</p> +<p>“To sea!”</p> +<p>“How––” again essayed Halstead.</p> +<p>“At full speed—the fastest we can travel!” +called back Joe, who was leaping down the porch +steps.</p> +<p>“Any time to lock up?” demanded Tom, half-laughingly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p> +<p>“Yes—but hustle! I’ll get the motor started +and be waiting.”</p> +<p>Hank Butts was leaning indolently against +one of the porch posts.</p> +<p>“Look at old Joe sailing before a fair wind,” +he laughed, admiringly.</p> +<p>“Turn to, Hank! Help lock the windows and +the doors—full speed ahead!” directed Captain +Tom, with vigor. “Joe Dawson never goes +off at racing speed like that unless he has his +orders and knows what he’s doing.”</p> +<p>“I thought you were the captain,” grinned +Hank, as he sprang to obey.</p> +<p>“So I am,” Halstead shot at the other boy. +“But, just as it happens, Joe has the sailing +orders—and he can be trusted with ’em. Now—everything +is tight and the keys in my pocket. +For the dock, on the run!”</p> +<p>Chug-chug! Joe had surely been moving, for, +by the time the other boys reached the dock, +Dawson had the hatchway of the motor room +open and the twin motors had begun to move. +The young engineer, an oil-can in hand, was +watching the revolutions of the two handsome +machines.</p> +<p>“Stand by the stern-line to throw off, Hank,” +called Captain Tom, as he raced out onto the +dock and made a plunge for the bow hawser. +With this in hand he sprang aboard. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>“How soon, Joe?” called the young skipper, +throwing the canvas cover from the wheel down +onto the bridge deck.</p> +<p>“As soon as you like,” was Joe’s answer, as +he threw more speed into the twin motors.</p> +<p>Hank had the stern hawser in his hands by +this time. Halstead threw the wheel over +slightly, warping the boat’s graceful bow away +from the dock under just a touch of speed ahead.</p> +<p>“Come aboard, Hank!” called the young +skipper. As soon as Butts had obeyed with a +flying leap, Tom rang for half speed ahead, +moving smoothly out of the little sand-bound +harbor.</p> +<p>“Coil the hawsers, Hank,” directed the young +skipper. “Put the wheel cover away. Then relieve +Joe. I want to hear from him.”</p> +<p>These three separate orders Hank had executed +within less than two minutes, and jumped +down into the motor room. Joe came on deck, +holding the sheets of paper in his hand.</p> +<p>“Now, let’s understand what the business is, +anyway,” suggested Tom Halstead. “Who +signaled us? Mr. Seaton?”</p> +<p>“Yes, but he wasn’t the first one,” Dawson +answered. “The first hail came from out of the +sea, from the Black B liner, ‘Constant,’ addressed +to any wireless station and tagged +‘urgent.’ Here it is.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p> +<p>One hand on the wheel, the young skipper received +the sheet held out to him. It read:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Can you send fast boat instantly to take off badly injured +passenger for medical treatment? Passenger A. B. Clodis, +believed to be wealthy man from New York, discovered unconscious, +perhaps dying, from fall. Fractured skull. +Believe passenger or family to be able to pay handsomely +for services.</p> + +<p style='text-align:right; font-size:smaller; margin-right: 2em'> +(Signed) <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hampton</span>, <i>captain</i>.</p> +<p>“Here’s another sheet giving the ship’s position +at that moment,” Joe continued; “also her +course and speed.”</p> +<p>“And you answered?” demanded Halstead.</p> +<p>“Just as I started to, the wireless at Beaufort +broke in. It seems that Mr. Seaton is at Beaufort, +and that he heard, at once, of the trouble. +Here is Mr. Seaton’s order.”</p> +<p>Joe Dawson held out another sheet, on which +he had transcribed this wireless message:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Halstead, Lonely Island: Clodis is my man on important +matter. Get him off ship, and with all speed. Take him +to Lonely Island, where I will arrive with surgeons and +nurses. Get all his baggage and papers off with him, and +take greatest care of same. Whole thing plotted by enemies. +If they succeed it spells ruin for me and more than one +tragedy. I depend on you boys; don’t fail me! Act at +full speed.</p> + +<p style='text-align:right; font-size:smaller; margin-right: 2em'> +(Signed) <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Powell Seaton.</span></p> + +<p style='text-align:left; font-size:smaller; margin-left: 2em'> +P. XXX S.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></div> +<p>“That comes from Mr. Seaton, all right,” +nodded Captain Tom. “That’s his private signal, +below his name, that he told us to look for +on all orders of his. Now, let me have a look +again at the position and course of the ‘Constant.’”</p> +<p>After studying the dispatch intently, Captain +Halstead nodded to his chum to take the wheel. +Facing about, Tom swung open the small chart-case +secured to the top of the deck-house. With +a small, accurate pocket rule he made some +measurements.</p> +<p>“At twenty-five miles an hour, Joe, if you +can keep it up, a straight sou’east by east +course should bring us right in the path of +the ‘Constant’ on the course and speed she +reports.”</p> +<p>“Oh, we can keep the speed up,” predicted +Joe, confidently. “But I can’t fool with the engine, +unless you insist. I ought to be back in +the cabin, at the wireless instrument.”</p> +<p>“Hank can keep at the motors, then,” nodded +Captain Tom. “Go along, old fellow.”</p> +<p>Joe paused but an instant to give Hank the +needed orders, then raced aft. At the after end +of the cabin were two snug little staterooms; at +the other end, forward, a table had been fitted +up with wireless apparatus, for the twin motors +of the boat generated, by means of a dynamo, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +electricity enough for a very respectable wireless +spark.</p> +<p>Hardly had Joe vanished when Hank, satisfied +with the performance of the motors, appeared +on deck. The signal mast stood just +behind the bridge deck. It was of light, hollow +steel, with two inner tubes that, when extended, +made an unusually high mast for such a boat.</p> +<p>“We can run the extension mast up to full +height in this light breeze, can’t we, Tom?” +asked the Long Island boy. Halstead nodded.</p> +<p>So simple was the arrangement that, within +a few moments, Hank had the aerials well +aloft. Nor was he too soon, for this query came +promptly through space from Powell Seaton, up +at Beaufort:</p> +<p>“Are you starting at once?”</p> +<p>With a quiet grin, all alone there by the wireless +apparatus, young Dawson sparked back +through the air:</p> +<p>“Three miles east, and running to intercept +the ‘Constant.’”</p> +<p>“Good!” came clicking into Joe Dawson’s +watch-case receivers against his ears, a moment +later. “Then I won’t bother you further. I +trust you. But, oh, if you should fail! You +don’t know what failure means—to me!”</p> +<p>All this, of course, was clicked out in the dot +and dash code of the Morse alphabet, but to Joe +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +Dawson it was as plain as words spoken by the +human voice.</p> +<p>“You’re right, Mr. Seaton.” Joe’s busy +right hand fingers clicked out the message on +the sending key, while the electric waves sped +from the aerials aloft outside. “We don’t know +what ‘failure’ means. We won’t fail you. +Good-bye.”</p> +<p>Then Joe turned his attention to the “Constant.” +The big Black B liner answered +promptly. She was on the same course, and +glad to know that the “Restless” was speeding +over the sea to seek her.</p> +<p>Having finished in raising the extended signal +mast, and glancing into the motor room to see +that the motors were running smoothly, Hank +leaned against the raised deck top. The Long +Island boy was hardly to be expected as a member +of the crew of the “Restless” on this cruise, +but he had wound up the summer season at East +Hampton, and now, with idle September coming +upon him, he had found the longing for the +broad sea too powerful for him. Family conditions +at home being satisfactory, he had promised +himself this one month away from home, +and was aboard as steward and general helper.</p> +<p>“I wonder if our work for Mr. Seaton has +started in earnest?” ventured Hank.</p> +<p>“It has, for a few hours to-day, anyway,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +smiled Captain Tom. “We’re cruising at full +speed, and under orders from the man who +chartered the ‘Restless’ for this month.”</p> +<p>“But who can this Clodis be?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” Tom Halstead admitted.</p> +<p>“I wonder why Mr. Seaton is so mightily interested +in him? What does Seaton mean by +hinting at ruin and tragedies?”</p> +<p>“Do you know what I think, Hank?” queried +the young skipper, quietly.</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“I think it would be downright impudence on +our part to get too inquisitive about the affairs +of the man who employs us. We looked Mr. +Seaton up, and found he had the reputation of +being an honest man. That’s as much of +his business as we have any right to want to +know.”</p> +<p>Hank colored, though he went on, in an argumentative +way:</p> +<p>“I s’pose that’s all true enough, Tom. Still, +it’s human nature, when you smell a big mystery, +to want to know the meaning of at least +some of it. And I’m mighty curious, because I +scent something unusually big in the air.”</p> +<p>“So do I,” admitted the young skipper, giving +the wheel another turn in order to hold the +fast-moving boat to her course.</p> +<p>“Then what––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p> +<p>“Hold on, Hank! Don’t be downright nosey. +And, as for guessing––”</p> +<p>“Why, Seaton as good as hints that there’s +been a downright attempt to kill this man Clodis,” +broke in Hank, who could not be repressed +easily. “And Seaton is surely mightily worked +up about it. And sending us out to take a passenger +off a steamer bound for South America! +Tom, do you s’pose that criminals are––”</p> +<p>“Hank,” broke in the young skipper, half-severely, +“there’s something squeaking on one +of the motors. For goodness’ sake don’t let us +break down on what we’ve been told is a life-and-death +trip! Get below and see what’s +wrong. Stand by to watch the performance of +the motors.”</p> +<p>Hank vanished, inwardly grumbling, for his +curiosity was doing two hours’ work every +minute.</p> +<p>Captain Tom, after measuring on the chart, +had figured on meeting the “Constant” in two +hours and twenty minutes. Now, at every turn +of the twin shafts the young skipper’s blood +bounded with the desire to do his full duty in +arriving on time. Yet there was not wanting +pleasure, mixed with the anxiety. How good +the fresh, salty air tasted, out here on the broad +sea, with the low coast-line already nearly out +of sight! Tom Halstead sniffed in breath after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +breath. His eyes danced as they beheld the +spraying of white water cut and turned up by +the boat’s fast prow. Oh, it was great to be out +here on the deep, one hand guiding the course +of one of the nimblest yachts afloat!</p> +<p>Joe, as he came forward, felt this same wild +exhilaration. Quiet, dutiful and law-abiding as +both these Motor Boat Club boys were, there +must have been much of the old Norseman Viking +blood in their veins, for this swift dash over +the rolling swell of the ocean was like a tonic +to them both.</p> +<p>“Say, isn’t it all grand?” demanded Joe, his +cheeks glowing, as he paused on the bridge deck, +taking in great whiffs of the purest air supplied +to man.</p> +<p>“Great!” admitted Skipper Tom, in a tone +that was almost a cheer. Then he asked, +gravely:</p> +<p>“Any news?”</p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton knows we have started, and expresses +his pleasure. I’ve signaled the ‘Constant,’ +and she’s still keeping to the same course, +and will so continue.”</p> +<p>“And the patient, Clodis?”</p> +<p>“Still alive, Tom; but the ship’s surgeon offers +no hope, and will be glad to have us take +him onto the ‘Restless.’”</p> +<p>“It must be something terrible to make Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +Seaton so anxious about the man,” observed +Tom, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded Joe. Then: “Say, Tom, I’ve +just struck an easy scheme for connecting one +of the armatures of the Morse register, aft, to +a buzzer in the engine room. Then if I happen +to be in the engine room when wireless messages +are traveling through the air I shall +know it.”</p> +<p>In the next hour all three of the boys, though +they did not talk much about it, were wondering +about this tragedy of the deep sea that had +called them into action. Though they could not +as yet guess it, this present affair of theirs was +but the start of a series of adventures more +amazing than any they had ever dreamed of. +Now, at the most, they were curious. Soon they +were to know what it meant to be astounded; +they were soon to know what it felt like to feel +haunted, to find themselves assailed by dread +after dread. Undoubtedly it was merciful for +them that they could not, at this moment, peer +behind the curtain of the immediate future.</p> +<p>So, ignorant of what fate and destiny held in +store for them, they were mainly intent, now, +upon intercepting at the right point the big liner +cruising swiftly southward.</p> +<p>In another hour they made out smoke on the +horizon where Skipper Tom judged the “Constant” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +to be. Later the spars of the steamship +were visible through the marine glasses. Then +the hull appeared. A few minutes later Captain +Tom ran the “Restless” dashingly in +alongside the great black hull of the liner, along +whose starboard rail a hundred or more passengers +had gathered.</p> +<p>Turning the wheel over to Hank, Captain +Tom Halstead snatched up the megaphone as +the larger vessel slowed down.</p> +<p>“‘Constant,’ ahoy!” bellowed the young +skipper. “This is the yacht ‘Restless,’ sent to +receive your injured passenger, Clodis.”</p> +<p>“‘Restless’ ahoy!” came the response from +the liner’s bridge. “We’ll lower our starboard +side gangway, if you can come alongside +safely.”</p> +<p>The Motor Boat Club boys were at the threshold +of their strangest, wildest succession of adventures!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_SOME_OF_THE_MYSTERY_UNRAVELED' id='CHAPTER_II_SOME_OF_THE_MYSTERY_UNRAVELED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>SOME OF THE MYSTERY UNRAVELED</h3> +</div> +<p>“IF we can come alongside safely,” echoed +Hank, disgustedly. “I’ll show ’em—and +in a smooth swell of sea like this, too!”</p> +<p>As the big steamship lay to, Hank steered in +until Captain Tom, boathook in hand, made fast +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +temporarily. Then Hank hurried up with a line +with which he took a fast hitch.</p> +<p>“Hey, there, you’ll pull away our side gangway,” +roared down a mate, whose head and uniform +cap showed over the rail above.</p> +<p>“You don’t know us,” grinned Joe Dawson, +quietly.</p> +<p>By this time Tom Halstead was running +lightly up the steps of the gangway. He reached +the small platform above, then passed to the +deck.</p> +<p>He was met by Captain Hampton, who inquired:</p> +<p>“Where’s your sailing master, young man?”</p> +<p>“Right before you, Captain.”</p> +<p>“You?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“Who are your owners?” demanded Captain +Hampton, much astonished by Tom’s quiet assurance.</p> +<p>“I’m captain and half-owner of the ‘Restless,’ +sir,” Halstead continued, still smiling at +the other captain’s very evident astonishment. +“The other owner is the engineer, Joe Dawson, +my chum.”</p> +<p>Captain Hampton swallowed something very +hard. Several of the passengers were smiling. +A man who has followed the sea for years knows +the capacity and efficiency that boys often display +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +on shipboard, but it is unusual to find a +boy acting as master of a yacht.</p> +<p>However, there was the “Restless,” and there +was Tom Halstead in the captain’s uniform. +These were facts that could not be disputed.</p> +<p>“You have a passenger, a Mr. Clodis, that +you want to have me take off?” resumed Tom.</p> +<p>“Yes; you have come for him, then?”</p> +<p>“Not only that, but Mr. Seaton, the gentleman +who has our boat in charter, has very urgently +ordered us to bring Mr. Clodis ashore; also his +baggage complete, and any and all papers that +he may have brought aboard.”</p> +<p>“You have a comfortable berth on your +boat?”</p> +<p>“Several of them,” Tom answered.</p> +<p>“Then I’ll have some of my men make the +transfer at once. Our ship’s surgeon, Dr. Burke, +will also go over the side and see that Mr. Clodis +is made as comfortable as possible for his +trip ashore.”</p> +<p>“Steward Butts will show your men to the +port stateroom, aft, sir.”</p> +<p>A mate hurried away to give the order to Dr. +Burke. A boatswain was directed to attend to +having all of Mr. Clodis’s baggage go over the +side.</p> +<p>“Come to my stateroom, sir, if you please,” +requested Captain Hampton, and Tom followed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p> +<p>“When you take a man with a fractured skull +ashore, the authorities may want some explanation,” +declared the ‘Constant’s’ sailing master, +opening his desk. “Here is a statement, therefore, +that I have prepared and signed. Take it +with you, Captain––”</p> +<p>“Halstead,” supplied Tom.</p> +<p>The motor boat boy glanced hurriedly through +the document.</p> +<p>“I see you state it was an accident, Captain +Hampton,” went on Halstead, lowering his +voice. “Our charter-man, Mr. Seaton, intimated +that he believed it might have been a deliberate +assault. Have you anything that you +wish to say on this point, sir?”</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it was an assault,” replied +the ship’s master, musingly. Halstead’s quick +eye noted that Hampton appeared to be a +sturdy, honest sea-dog. “Still, Captain Halstead, +if you would like to question the steward +who found Mr. Clodis at the foot of the main +saloon companionway––”</p> +<p>“Have you made the investigation thoroughly, +sir?”</p> +<p>“I think so—yes.”</p> +<p>“Then nothing is likely to be gained, Captain, +by my asking any questions of a steward +you have already questioned.”</p> +<p>The mate came back to report that Mr. Clodis +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +had been carried over the side, and that his +baggage had been taken aboard the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“I know you don’t want a liner held up,” +Tom went on, slipping Captain Hampton’s report +of the accident into his pocket. “I’ll go +over the side, sir, as soon as you can ascertain +whether Mr. Clodis had any papers that ought +to be sent ashore with him.”</p> +<p>“There are none in the injured man’s pockets,” +replied the steamship’s sailing master, +“and none were deposited with the purser. So, +if there are any papers, they must be in Mr. +Clodis’s trunk or bag.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir. Then I’ll bid you good-bye +and hurry over the side,” said Halstead, energetically.</p> +<p>As they stepped out of the stateroom a passenger +who had been lingering near stepped up.</p> +<p>“Oh, one moment,” said Captain Hampton, +suddenly. “Captain Halstead, this gentleman +is Mr. Arthur Hilton. Since leaving New York +he has received some wireless news that makes +him anxious to return. He wants to go ashore +with you.”</p> +<p>Arthur Hilton had stepped forward, holding +out his hand, which Tom took in his own. Mr. +Hilton was a man of about thirty, smooth-faced, +with firm set jaws. Though evidently not a +Spaniard, he had the complexion usual to that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +race. His dark eyes were keen and sharp, +though they had a rather pleasant look in them. +He was slender, perhaps five feet eight inches +tall, and, although his waist and legs were thin, +he had broad, rather powerful looking shoulders.</p> +<p>“You can set me ashore, can’t you, young +man, for a ten-dollar bill?” inquired Hilton.</p> +<p>“Certainly, if Captain Hampton knows no +reason why you shouldn’t leave the vessel,” +Tom answered.</p> +<p>“Mr. Hilton has surrendered his passage +ticket, and there is nothing to detain him +aboard,” replied the steamship’s master.</p> +<p>“Your baggage ready, sir?” asked Tom.</p> +<p>“Nothing but this bag,” laughed Hilton, +stepping back and picking up his hand luggage.</p> +<p>“Come along, then, sir.”</p> +<p>As Tom Halstead pressed his way through the +throng of passengers gathered on deck, he heard +several wondering, and some admiring, remarks +relative to the youthfulness of the skipper of so +handsome and trim a yacht.</p> +<p>Hilton followed the young skipper down over +the side. Tom turned to help him to the deck of +the “Restless,” but Hilton lightly leaped across, +holding his bag before him. Tom Halstead, as +he turned, got a good look at that bag. It was +one that he was likely to remember for many a +day. The article was of dark red leather, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +on one side the surface for a space as large as +a man’s hand had been torn away, probably in +some accident.</p> +<p>“Here’s the passage money, Captain,” said +Hilton, passing over a ten-dollar bill. Murmuring +his thanks, the young skipper crumpled up +the bill, shoving it into a trousers pocket, then +hurried aft.</p> +<p>Clodis was a short, almost undersized man of +perhaps forty-five, stout and well dressed. His +head was so bandaged, as he lay in the lower +berth of the port stateroom, that not much of +his face was visible.</p> +<p>“He’s unconscious, and probably will be for +hours,” stated Dr. Burke, as Captain Tom appeared +in the doorway. “If he comes to, I’ve +left some medicine with your steward, to be +given the patient. Of course you’ll get him +ashore and under medical care as promptly as +possible, Captain.”</p> +<p>“Surgeons are on the way from Beaufort to +meet us,” the young skipper nodded.</p> +<p>“Then I’ll return to my ship,” declared Dr. +Burke, rising. “But I’m glad to know that +Mr. Clodis is going to be met by a friend.”</p> +<p>As the doctor hurried over the side, Hilton +turned to walk aft.</p> +<p>“Stay forward, if you please, sir,” interposed +Captain Tom. “No one is to go into the cabin +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +until the patient has been removed under a +doctor’s orders.”</p> +<p>There was a frown on Hilton’s face, which, +however, almost instantly vanished. Joe +brought a deck arm chair and placed it for Mr. +Hilton on the bridge deck.</p> +<p>“Good luck for you and your patient, sir,” +called down Captain Hampton over the rail, as +he prepared to get under headway.</p> +<p>“Thank you, sir,” Tom acknowledged. +“We’ll take the best care of Mr. Clodis that we +know how.”</p> +<p>With Hank on duty in the cabin, Tom Halstead +had to cast off and make his own start +as best he could. He managed the double task +neatly, however, and, as he fell away the “Constant’s” +engine-room bell could be heard for +half-speed-ahead.</p> +<p>The little auto-whistle of the “Restless” +sounded shrilly, to be answered with a long, +deep-throated blast from the liner’s steam +whistle. With this brief interchange of sea +courtesies the two craft fell apart, going on their +respective ways.</p> +<p>“Full speed on the return?” called Joe, from +the doorway of the motor room.</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded Captain Tom. “But look out +for vibration. Our sick man has had his skull +cracked.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span></p> +<p>By the time the yacht had gone scooting for +more than a mile over the waves, Captain Halstead, +left hand on the wheel, turned to Hilton.</p> +<p>“Did you hear how our sick man came to be +hurt, sir?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t hear of it until a couple of hours +after it happened,” replied Hilton. “I understand +that Mr. Clodis fell down the stairs leading +to the main saloon, and was picked up unconscious. +That was about all the word that +was given out on board.”</p> +<p>Captain Tom nodded, then gave his whole attention +to making Lonely Island as speedily as +possible. There was no land in sight, and the +trip back was a long one. Yet the young skipper +had his bearings perfectly.</p> +<p>They were still some eight miles off Lonely +Island when Hilton roused himself at sight of +a low-hulled, black schooner scudding north under +a big spread of canvas.</p> +<p>“You’re going to pass close to that boat, +aren’t you, Captain?” asked the bridge deck +passenger.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; pretty close.”</p> +<p>“As I understand it, you’re going to land at +an island some miles off the coast, whereas I +wish to reach the mainland at the earliest possible +moment, and catch a railway train. So, +Captain, if you’ll signal that schooner and put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +me aboard, I shall feel under sufficient obligation +to hand you another ten-dollar bill.”</p> +<p>That looked so much like earning money +rapidly that Halstead called Joe up from the +motor room to set the signal. The schooner lay +to until overtaken. Hilton discovered that the +schooner was bound for Beaufort, and the bargain +was quickly completed. A small boat put +off from the sailing vessel and the bridge deck +passenger, his noticeable bag included, was +transferred.</p> +<p>The “Restless” was nearer Lonely Island, +and the schooner was hull down, when Captain +Tom suddenly started as Joe Dawson stepped +upon deck.</p> +<p>“Blazes, Joe!” exclaimed the young skipper. +“I’m afraid we’ve done it!”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid so, too,” came quietly from the +young engineer.</p> +<p>“That fellow Hilton, so anxious to get ashore, +may be the very chap who struck down Mr. +Clodis!”</p> +<p>“The thought had just come to me,” admitted +Joe.</p> +<p>“Yes! You know, Mr. Seaton hinted that +the ‘accident’ might have been an attempt to +kill.”</p> +<p>Captain and engineer of the “Restless” +stared disconcertedly at each other. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></p> +<p>“Now, why did I have to go and make such +a fearful stumble as that?” groaned Tom.</p> +<p>“You didn’t, any more than I did,” Joe tried +to console him.</p> +<p>“We should, at least, have kept Hilton aboard +until Mr. Seaton had had a chance to look him +over.”</p> +<p>“I could send a wireless to the Beaufort police +to grab Hilton on landing,” suggested Joe, +doubtfully, but Tom Halstead shook his head +energetically.</p> +<p>“No; the Beaufort police wouldn’t do that +on our say-so, Joe. And, even if they did, we +might get ourselves into a lot of trouble.”</p> +<p>The “Restless” kept smoothly, swiftly on her +way, bounding over the low, gentle swell of the +calm ocean. Tom shivered whenever he thought +of the possibility of the motors becoming cranky. +With such important human freight aboard any +mishap to the machinery would be extremely +serious.</p> +<p>“Joe,” called Tom, at last, as the yacht came +in sight of Lonely Island, “there’s a tug at our +dock.”</p> +<p>Dawson came on deck, taking the marine glass +from his chum’s hand.</p> +<p>“I guess Mr. Seaton has been hustling, then. +He couldn’t have come from Beaufort on the +tug, after all the trouble of rounding up doctors. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +He must have come down the shore in an +automobile, and then engaged the tug near the +island.”</p> +<p>As the “Restless” went closer, the tug, with +two short toots of its whistle, moved out from +the dock. Powell Seaton, in broad-brimmed hat +and blue serge, waved his hand vigorously at +the boys. With him stood three men, presumably +surgeons. Captain Tom Halstead sounded +three short blasts of the auto-whistle to signal +the success of his errand, while Joe swung his +uniform cap over his head.</p> +<p>“Get down to your engines, Joe,” called Captain +Tom. “I’m going to make a swift landing +that will be in keeping with Mr. Seaton’s impatience.”</p> +<p>Up to within nearly two hundred yards of +the dock the “Restless” dashed in at full speed. +Then signaling for half speed, next for the stop, +and finally for the reverse, Captain Tom swung +the yacht in almost a semi-circle, running up +with bare headway so that the boat lay in gently +against the string-piece. In that instant Tom, +leaving the wheel, bounded up onto the dock, +bow hawser in hand, and made the loop fast +over the snubbing post. In the same instant Joe +Dawson, cat-footed, raced aft, next leaping +ashore with the stern hawser.</p> +<p>“Jove, but that was a beautiful bit of boat-handling—a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +superb piece of seamanship!” muttered +one of the surgeons, admiringly.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, however, stopped to hear +none of this. He gripped Tom by the arm, demanding +hoarsely:</p> +<p>“You brought Clodis ashore? How is he? +Where?”</p> +<p>“Still unconscious, sir, and the ship’s doctor +offered no hope. You will find your friend in +the port stateroom, sir.”</p> +<p>Signing to the surgeons to accompany him, +Mr. Seaton vanished aft, the medical men with +him. Ten minutes passed before Hank came +up, alone.</p> +<p>“What do the doctors say, Hank?” demanded +Tom, instantly.</p> +<p>“One chance in about a million,” replied +Hank, in a very subdued voice—for him.</p> +<p>Five minutes later Mr. Seaton, hat in hand, +also came up on deck.</p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton,” murmured Tom, eagerly, +“I’ve been waiting for you. I—we’ve something +to tell you.” Then the young skipper detailed +the affair of taking Arthur Hilton from +the “Constant” and transferring him to the +Beaufort-bound schooner.</p> +<p>“Describe the fellow!” commanded Powell +Seaton, suddenly, hoarsely.</p> +<p>Captain Tom did so. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>“Arthur Hilton he called himself, did he?” +cried Mr. Seaton, in a rage. “Anson Dalton is +the scoundrel’s real name!”</p> +<p>“Who is he, sir?” Tom asked, anxiously.</p> +<p>“Who is Anson Dalton?” cried Mr. Seaton, +his voice sounding as though he were choking. +“Who, but the scoundrel who has engineered +this whole desperate plot against me! The +dastard who struck down Allan Clodis! The +knave who has striven for the badge of Cain!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_INVISIBLE_HANDS_AT_THE_WIRELESS' id='CHAPTER_III_INVISIBLE_HANDS_AT_THE_WIRELESS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>INVISIBLE HANDS AT THE WIRELESS</h3> +</div> +<p>In a rear bedroom, the furthest apartment +from the wireless room of the bungalow, +Allan Clodis, barely alive, was placed +when they bore him up from the boat. Then +the three surgeons, retaining only Hank Butts, +drove the others from the room.</p> +<p>“Back to the wireless!” breathed Seaton, +tensely. “Dawson, get Beaufort on the jump.”</p> +<p>“I have the Beaufort operator,” reported +Joe, after a few moments.</p> +<p>“Then rush this message, and ask the operator +to get it in the hands of the chief of police +without an instant’s loss of time,” directed Mr. +Seaton, speaking in jerky haste. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></p> +<p>The message described Anson Dalton, also the +black schooner on which he had last been seen. +The police chief was asked to arrest Dalton on +sight, on the authority of Powell Seaton, and +hold him for the United States authorities, for +an attempt at homicide on an American ship on +the high seas.</p> +<p>Within ten minutes back came the reply from +Beaufort to this effect:</p> +<p>“I have men out watching for the schooner. +Man Dalton will be arrested as you request. +Will notify you.”</p> +<p>“Good!” cried Mr. Seaton, rubbing his hands +vengefully. “Oh, Dalton, you scoundrel, you +can’t escape us now, for long! You knew that, +if you continued down the coast, there was +danger that a United States revenue cutter +would intercept the ship and take you off. At +best, you knew you would be arrested at Rio +Janeiro, if I suspected you, as I was bound to +do. So you tried to steal ashore here, to be +swallowed up in the mazes of this broad country +at least an hour or two ahead of pursuit. And, +but for the wireless spark that leaps through +space, you could have done so. But we shall +have you now.”</p> +<p>“Unless––” began Tom Halstead, hintingly, +then paused.</p> +<p>“Unless—what?” insisted Mr. Seaton. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“Suppose Dalton is shrewd enough to pay the +captain of the schooner to land him at some +other point, where there is neither a policeman +nor a telegraph station?”</p> +<p>Seaton made a noise that sounded as though +he were grinding his teeth. Then he picked up +a pencil, writing furiously.</p> +<p>“Send this to the police chief at Beaufort,” +he ordered. Joe Dawson’s fingers made the +sending-key sing. The message was one warning +the police chief that Dalton might attempt +to land at some point outside of Beaufort, and +asking him to cover all near points along the +coast. Mr. Seaton offered to make good any +expense that this would entail.</p> +<p>Once more, in a few minutes, the answer was +at hand.</p> +<p>“Chief of police at Beaufort says,” Joe translated +the dots and dashes, “that his authority +does not extend beyond the city limits.”</p> +<p>Again Mr. Seaton began to show signs of +fury. Then, as though to force self-control, he +trod softly out of the room, going toward the +door of the sick-room, where Hank Butts stood +guard.</p> +<p>“No news, sir; no change,” Hank reported, +in an undertone.</p> +<p>“I’m afraid Mr. Seaton is pretty angry with +us,” said Tom Halstead, gravely, “for allowing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +Hilton—Dalton, I mean—to get away from +us.”</p> +<p>“Then he may as well get over it,” commented +Joe Dawson, quietly. “We’re hired to +furnish a boat, to sail it, and, incidentally, to +run a wireless telegraph apparatus. We didn’t +engage ourselves as policemen.”</p> +<p>“True,” nodded young Captain Halstead. +“Still, I might have done some quicker thinking. +My! What would Dalton have felt like if I had +run straight for this dock, refusing to put him +aboard any other craft?”</p> +<p>“If you had tried to do that,” retorted Joe, +with another quiet smile, “do you know, Tom, +what I think your friends would have been doing +and saying of you?”</p> +<p>“No; of course not.”</p> +<p>“Your friends would have been sending +flowers, and bringing tears. They would be looking +at you, to-morrow, and saying, in undertones: +‘Goodness, how natural he looks!’”</p> +<p>Halstead was puzzled for a moment or two. +Then, comprehending, he grinned, though he demanded:</p> +<p>“You think Dalton would have dared anything +like that?”</p> +<p>“Well, you notice what kind of a rascal Mr. +Seaton thinks Dalton is. And you know we +don’t go armed aboard the ‘Restless.’ Now, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +I’m pretty certain that Dalton could have displayed +and used weapons if we had given him +any cause to do so.”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, when Powell Seaton entered +the room, he beheld Captain Tom Halstead +seated at the operator’s table, sealing an +envelope that he had just directed.</p> +<p>“What are you doing, Captain?” asked the +charter-man.</p> +<p>“You know that miserable twenty dollars that +I took from Anson Dalton for passage money?” +inquired Halstead, looking up.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“I’ve just enclosed the money in this envelope, +with a note.”</p> +<p>“Going to return the money to Dalton when +you find his address?” smiled Mr. Seaton, +wearily.</p> +<p>“No, sir,” retorted Tom, in a voice sharp +with disgust. “Dalton seems to have more +money, already, than is good for him. I’ve +addressed this envelope to a county institution +down in the state that I come from.”</p> +<p>“A public institution?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; the home for feeble-minded +youth.”</p> +<p>“Don’t take it so hard as that, Halstead,” +urged Mr. Seaton. “Had you had a suspicion +you would have done whatever lay in your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +power. I might have warned you against Dalton, +but the truth is, <i>I</i> did not imagine he would +be right on the scene.”</p> +<p>Saying which, Powell Seaton walked away by +himself. He was gravely, even sadly preoccupied. +Though Captain Halstead could not +even guess what the underlying mystery was, he +knew that it seriously affected Mr. Seaton’s +plans and fortune. Their charter-man was +worried almost past endurance, though bravely +trying to hide the fact.</p> +<p>After the consultation of the surgeons, two of +them departed aboard the tug, the third remaining +to care for the patient. Hank, despite all +his bluntness of manner, was proving himself +valuable in the sick-room, while Joe spent most +of his time in the wireless room of the bungalow, +waiting to receive or send any word. So, +as evening came, Tom Halstead bestirred +himself with the preparation of the evening +meal.</p> +<p>By dark there was a considerable wind blowing. +Halstead left his cooking long enough to +run down and make sure that all was snug and +tight aboard the “Restless.” The young skipper +had fairly to fight his way against the wind +on his return to the bungalow.</p> +<p>“There’s going to be a tough old gale to-night,” +Tom muttered to himself, as he halted, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +a moment, on the porch, to study the weather +conditions.</p> +<p>As yet, it was blowing only fairly hard. As +the little group at the bungalow seated themselves +at supper, however, the storm broke, with +a deluge of rain and a sharp roar of thunder.</p> +<p>“This will bother wireless conditions to-night, +won’t it?” queried Mr. Seaton, as they +ate.</p> +<p>“Some, perhaps, if the gale and the storm +keep up,” replied Joe Dawson. “But I imagine +the worst of the gale is passing now.”</p> +<p>And so it proved. An hour later the rain was +falling steadily, though only in a drizzle. The +wind had moderated a good deal.</p> +<p>As all hands, save Hank, sat in the sitting +room of the bungalow, after the meal, the warning +bell from the apparatus room suddenly +tinkled.</p> +<p>“You see, sir,” said Joe, rising quickly, “the +wireless is still able to work.”</p> +<p>He passed into the next room, seating himself +by the instruments and slipping on the head-band +that held the receivers.</p> +<p>“From Beaufort, sir,” Joe said, presently, +looking up. “The police report that no such +schooner has landed at that city.”</p> +<p>“Acknowledge the message of the police,” directed +Mr. Seaton, “and ask them not to give up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +the lookout through the night. Tell the chief +of police that I’ll gladly meet any expense that +may be incurred.”</p> +<p>Joe’s right hand reached out for the sending-key. +Then a blank look flashed across his +face.</p> +<p>“Something wrong with the sending-key connections,” +he explained, in a low voice, leaping +up. He examined the connections closely, yet, +the more he looked, the more puzzled he became.</p> +<p>“The storage batteries can’t have given out,” +he muttered, snatching up a lighted lantern. +“But I’ll go and look at them.”</p> +<p>Out into the little dynamo shed he darted, +followed by Powell Seaton and by Tom. The +doctor was dozing in an arm-chair.</p> +<p>Joe gave two or three swift looks at the +dynamo, the storage battery connections and +other parts of the apparatus. Then his face +went white with rage.</p> +<p>“Look here, Mr. Seaton,” he panted, +hoarsely. “There’s been some infernal work +here—someone else has been on the island, for +none of our crowd would do such a trick! Not +even in fun! Look, sir, at where the parts have +been tampered with. Look where pliers have +been used to cut the wire connections. See +where these two bolts have been neatly removed +with the help of wrenches. Look at––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p> +<p>Joe paused, then glanced wildly around.</p> +<p>“Great Scott!” he groaned. “Just the parts +removed that can’t be replaced. The whole +generating plant crippled! Mr. Seaton, until +we get in touch with the mainland, and get some +needed supplies there, we can’t use this wireless +plant again. We can receive messages—yes, up +to any limit, but not a word can we send away +from here.”</p> +<p>“But who can have done this trick?” gasped +Powell Seaton, looking as though amazement +had numbed him, as, indeed, it almost had.</p> +<p>“Someone has landed here, since dark,” +broke in Tom Halstead, all a-quiver with dismay. +“While we were at supper some sneak or +sneaks have landed on this island. They have +pried their way in here, and they’ve crippled +our connection with the outside world.”</p> +<p>“They could do it all easily enough, without +making any noise,” confirmed Joe. “Yes—they’ve +done a splendid job, from a scoundrel’s +point of view!”</p> +<p>“Then you can’t make this apparatus work +for the sending of even a single message?” demanded +Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“Not until we’ve landed some necessary repair +and replacement materials from the mainland,” +replied Joe, with a disgusted shake of +his head. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span></p> +<p>“But you can still send messages from the +‘Restless,’” hinted Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead bounded for the door of the +dynamo shed with a sudden exclamation of +dread.</p> +<p>“We can use the boat’s wireless,” nodded +Joe, following, and speaking over his shoulder, +“unless the same crowd of rascals have broken +into the boat’s motor room or cabin and played +us the same trick there.”</p> +<p>In the big sitting room, beside the large open +fire-place, was a pile of long sticks of firewood. +Tom Halstead stopped to snatch up one of these, +and Joe quickly followed suit.</p> +<p>“I’ll go down to the boat with you, boys,” +said Mr. Seaton, who had followed them. “If +there’s anyone around to put up a fight you’ll +want some help.”</p> +<p>But Captain Tom, acting, for the moment, as +though he were aboard the yacht, suddenly took +command.</p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton,” he said, “you’d better remain +here to guard your unconscious friend. Doctor, +wake up! Better go in and send Hank Butts +out on the trot. We’ll take him with us.”</p> +<p>Dr. Cosgrove, awaking and realizing that +something important was happening, swiftly +moved off to the sick-room. Hank was speedily +out with his comrades. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p> +<p>“If there are rascals on this island, who have +designs against you, Mr. Seaton, then mount +guard over your friend,” Tom added. “Better +be in the sick-room at any moment when +Dr. Cosgrove leaves there. Hank, get a club +from that pile. Now, come along, fellows, and +we’ll see what infernal mischief may have been +done to the ‘Restless.’”</p> +<p>With that, the young skipper bounded out +onto the porch, thence running down the board +walk toward the dock.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead had some vague but highly uneasy +notions as to the safety of his beloved boat. +Yet, alarmed as he was, he was hardly prepared +for the shock that met him when he arrived at +the edge of the little wharf.</p> +<p>“Say, can you beat that?” panted young Halstead, +halting, thunderstruck, and gazing back +at his stupefied comrades. “The rascals—whoever +they are—have stolen the ‘Restless.’ Joe, +our splendid boat is gone!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_TAKING_A_GREAT_CHANCE' id='CHAPTER_IV_TAKING_A_GREAT_CHANCE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>TAKING A GREAT CHANCE</h3> +</div> +<p>Joe, with a voiceless gulp, sprang forward +once more, pausing at the string-piece +only, and peering hard out into the black, +wet night.</p> +<p>Hank Butts brought his club down over a +snubbing post with such force as to shatter the +weapon.</p> +<p>For a few moments Tom Halstead stood looking +about him in an uncertain way, as though +trying to arouse himself from a hideous nightmare.</p> +<p>“They’ve stolen our boat!” he gasped.</p> +<p>Whoever had done this deed might almost as +well have taken the young captain’s life. The +“Restless” was a big part of that life.</p> +<p>“Oh, well,” muttered Hank, thickly, “whoever +took the yacht must leave it somewhere. +You can’t hide a craft of that size. We’ll hear +from the ‘Restless’ all right, in a day or two—or +in a week, anyway.”</p> +<p>“Whoever took the yacht away from here +may know next to nothing about handling a +boat,” choked Tom, hoarsely. “We may find +the dear old craft again—yes—but perhaps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +wedged on the rocks somewhere,—a hopeless +wreck. O-o-oh! It makes me feel ugly and +heartsick, all in one!”</p> +<p>“The ‘Restless’ can’t have broken loose during +the storm, can it?” asked Hank Butts.</p> +<p>“No,” retorted Tom and Joe in the same +breath, and with the utmost positiveness.</p> +<p>“Well, what are we going to do?” asked +Hank.</p> +<p>The answer to the question was hard to find. +Lonely Island lay five miles off the shore. Wireless +communication was out of the question. +They were out of the track of passing vessels, +nor was any stray, friendly craft at all likely +to show up on this dark, forbidding night.</p> +<p>“Come on back, fellows,” said Tom, chokingly. +“There’s nothing we can do here, and +Mr. Seaton must know the whole situation.”</p> +<p>The owner of the bungalow listened to them +with a blank face when the Motor Boat Club boys +again stood before him.</p> +<p>“I can’t even guess what to make out of +this,” he confessed.</p> +<p>“It would help Dalton greatly if Mr. Clodis +died to-night, wouldn’t it, sir?” inquired the +young skipper.</p> +<p>“It would help Dalton much, and be of still +greater value to the wretches behind Dalton,” +replied Mr. Seaton, grinding his teeth. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></p> +<p>“Then, sir, as the tug went back to mainland +with two of the doctors, isn’t it possible +that some spy may have concluded that <i>all</i> +the doctors had returned until summoned +again?”</p> +<p>“That seems very likely,” nodded the owner +of the bungalow.</p> +<p>“Then perhaps Dalton—and those behind him—hope +that Mr. Clodis will become much worse, +and die before you can again summon help from +the mainland.”</p> +<p>“That looks more likely than any other explanation +of these strange happenings,” agreed +Mr. Seaton, studying the floor, while the frown +on his face deepened.</p> +<p>“And the scoundrels,” quavered Tom, “may +even come back during the night and try to +make <i>sure</i> that Mr. Clodis dies without ever becoming +conscious.”</p> +<p>“I don’t quite see why they need care so +much,” replied Mr. Seaton, slowly. “Dalton +got all of Clodis’s papers—the ones that I +wanted preserved from the wretches back of +Dalton.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure they have <i>all</i>?” propounded +Captain Halstead.</p> +<p>“Why, Clodis carried the papers in a money-belt, +and, in undressing him, we found that belt +gone.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span></p> +<p>“Have you looked through the baggage that +we brought ashore with Mr. Clodis?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t thought of it. Haven’t had time,” +replied Mr. Seaton. “But I will now. Mr. Clodis’s +steamer trunk is in the room with him. +We’ll bring it out, and search.”</p> +<p>Tom and Hank brought the trunk out.</p> +<p>“The lock hasn’t been tampered with, you +see, sir,” suggested Halstead.</p> +<p>“Here are Clodis’s keys,” replied Powell +Seaton, producing a ring. One of the keys he +fitted to the trunk lock, next throwing up the +lid. After rummaging for a few moments, Mr. +Seaton brought up a sealed envelope from the +bottom of the trunk.</p> +<p>“Dalton <i>would</i> have been glad to get this,” +he cried, with a near approach to delight.</p> +<p>“Lock it up tight in your innermost pockets +then, sir,” counseled Tom Halstead. “The contents +of that envelope must be what Dalton has +come back here for, or sent someone else for. +And, until he gets it, he must plan to keep +Lonely Island out of touch with the whole world. +We’ll hear from him again to-night, I’m thinking.”</p> +<p>“Will we?” flared Mr. Seaton, stepping +briskly across the room. Unlocking a cupboard +door, he brought out a repeating shot-gun. +From an ammunition box he helped himself to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +several shells, fitting six of them into the magazine +of the gun.</p> +<p>“Buckshot talks, sometimes,” said the owner +of the bungalow, more quietly. “I shall be +awake to-night, and have this gun always with +me.”</p> +<p>“Have you any other weapons, sir?” asked +Tom.</p> +<p>“Yes; a revolver—here it is.”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton held out the weapon, but Halstead +shook his head.</p> +<p>“Dr. Cosgrove is the one who’ll want that, +since he must stay by Mr. Clodis to-night. And, +see here, Mr. Seaton, impress upon the doctor +that he mustn’t take a nap, even for a moment. +As for you, you’ll want to be watching the house +in general.”</p> +<p>“Why, where will you young men be?” inquired +Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“We couldn’t stay indoors, with our boat +gone, sir,” Tom answered. “The first thing we +must do is to explore all around the island. +Even if we don’t get a sign of the ‘Restless,’ we +may find out something else. We may be able +to catch someone trying to land on this island +later to-night.”</p> +<p>“Yes; it will be best to have guards outside +roaming about the island,” admitted Powell +Seaton, readily. Then, lowering his voice as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +signed to the Motor Boat Club boys to draw +closer to him, Mr. Seaton added:</p> +<p>“Something, of some nature, <i>will</i> be attempted +to-night. There is no other sound explanation +of the crippling of the wireless and +the stealing of the boat. So be vigilant, boys—as +I shall also be while you’re gone.”</p> +<p>Hank helped himself to a fresh club—a +stouter one than that which he had broken over +the snubbing post at the dock. Then out into +the black night fared the three Motor Boat Club +boys.</p> +<p>“Shall we keep together, or spread?” asked +Joe Dawson.</p> +<p>“Together,” nodded Tom Halstead. “If +there are prowlers about, we can’t tell how soon +three of us may be even too few. Remember, +we have only firewood to fight with, and we +don’t know what kind of men we may run up +against.”</p> +<p>So Tom led his friends down to a point but +little south of the dock. From here, following +the shore, they started to prowl slowly around +Lonely Island, all the while keeping a sharp +watch to seaward.</p> +<p>“If the boat is in any waters near at hand we +ought to get some sign of her whereabouts by +keeping a sharp enough watch,” Tom advised +his comrades. “They can’t sail or handle the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +boat without the occasional use of a light in the +motor room. The gleam of a lantern across the +water may be enough to give us an idea where +she is.”</p> +<p>Peering off into the blackness of the night, +this seemed like rather a forlorn hope.</p> +<p>“If whoever has stolen the boat intends to +land later to-night,” hinted Joe, “it’s much +more likely that the thieves are, at this moment, +a good, biggish distance away, so as not to give +us any clew to their intentions.”</p> +<p>In the course of twenty minutes the Motor +Boat Club boys had made their way around to +the southern end of the island.</p> +<p>Somewhat more than a mile to the southward +lay a small, unnamed island. It was uninhabited, +and too sandy to be of value to planters. +Yet it had one good cove of rather deep +water.</p> +<p>Tom halted, staring long and hard in the direction +where he knew this little spot on the +ocean to stand. It was too black a night for +any glimpse of the island to be had against the +sky.</p> +<p>“That would be a good enough place for our +pirates to have taken the ‘Restless,’” he muttered, +to his comrades.</p> +<p>“If we only had a boat, we could know, bye-and-bye,” +muttered Hank, discontentedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span></p> +<p>“We have been known to swim further than +that,” said Joe, quietly.</p> +<p>“But never in such a sea as is running to-night,” +sighed Tom Halstead. “Even as the +water is, I’d like to chance it, but I’m afraid it +would be useless. And it would leave Mr. +Seaton and the doctor alone against any surprise.”</p> +<p>“I’d swim that far, or drown, even in this +sea,” muttered Dawson, vengefully, “if I had +any idea that our boat lay over that way.”</p> +<p>For two or three minutes the boys stood there, +talking. Not once did Tom Halstead turn his +eyes away from the direction of the island to +the southward.</p> +<p>“Look there!” the young skipper finally uttered, +clutching at Joe’s elbow. “Did you see +that?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” voiced Joe, in instant excitement.</p> +<p>“That” was a tiny glow of light, made small +by the distance.</p> +<p>“It’s a lantern, being carried by someone,” +continued Captain Tom, after a breathless +pause. “There—it vanishes! Oh, I say—gracious!”</p> +<p>Joe, too, gave a gasp.</p> +<p>As for Hank Butts, that youth commenced to +breathe so hard that there was almost a rattle +to his respiration. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p> +<p>Immediately following the disappearance of +the distant light, four smaller, dimmer lights +appeared, in a row.</p> +<p>“That’s the same light, showing through the +four starboard ports of the motor room,” trembled +Joe Dawson. “Starboard, because the lantern +was carried forward, before it disappeared +briefly in the hatchway of the motor room.”</p> +<p>“That’s our boat—there isn’t a single doubt +of it,” cried Tom Halstead, enthusiastically. +“And now—oh, fellows! We’ve simply got to +swim over there, rough sea or smooth sea. +We’ve got to get our own boat back unless the +heavens fall on us on the way over!”</p> +<p>“Humph! What are we going to do,” demanded +Hank Butts, “if we find a gang aboard +that we can’t whip or bluff?”</p> +<p>“That,” spoke Captain Tom, softly, “will +have to be decided after we get there. But swim +over there we must, since there isn’t anything +on this island that even looks like a boat. See +here, Joe, you and Hank trot up to the bungalow +and tell Mr. Seaton what we’ve seen. The +‘Restless’ is at anchor in the cove yonder. +There are plenty of logs up at the bungalow. +Come back with one big enough to buoy us up +in the water, yet not so big but what we can +steer it while swimming. And bring with it a +few lengths of that quarter-inch cord from the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +dynamo room. Don’t be too long, will you, fellows?”</p> +<p>After Joe and Hank had departed, Tom Halstead +watched the light shining behind the four +distant ports until it disappeared. Then he +looked at the waves long and wonderingly.</p> +<p>“It’s a big chance to take. I don’t know +whether we can ever get out there in a sea like +this,” he muttered. “Yet, what wouldn’t I do +to get control of our own boat again? Our own +boat—the good old ‘Restless’! Joe isn’t saying +much of anything; he never does, but I +know how he feels over the stealing of the boat +and the chance that bunglers may leave her on +the rocks somewhere along this coast!”</p> +<p>A few minutes passed. Then the young skipper +heard hurrying footsteps. Joe and Hank +hove into sight out of the deep gloom, bearing +an eight-foot log on their shoulders.</p> +<p>“Good enough,” nodded Halstead, eyeing the +log approvingly. “Now, wade into the water +with it, and let’s see whether it will buoy us all +up at need.”</p> +<p>All three waded out with the log, until they +were in nearly up to their shoulders.</p> +<p>“Now, hang to it, and see if it will hold us +up,” commanded Captain Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>The log bore them up, but the crest of a big +wave, rolling in, hurled them back upon the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +beach. Tom dragged the log up onto dry +ground.</p> +<p>“Now, first of all, let’s lash our clubs to the +log,” suggested the young skipper. This was +soon accomplished. Then each of the Motor +Boat Club boys made a medium length of the +cord fast around his chest, under the arm-pits.</p> +<p>“The next trick,” proposed Halstead, “is to +make the other end fast to the log, allowing just +length enough so that you can swim well clear +of the log itself, and yet be able to haul yourselves +back to the log in case you find your +strength giving out.”</p> +<p>This took some calculation, but at last the +three motor boat boys decided that eight feet +of line was the proper length. This decided, and +accomplished, they carried the log down into the +water, and pushed resolutely off into the blackness.</p> +<p>Even Tom Halstead, who allowed himself few +doubts, little believed that they could accomplish +this long, dangerous swimming cruise +over a rough sea.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_TOM_MATCHES_ONE_TRICK_WITH_ANOTHER' id='CHAPTER_V_TOM_MATCHES_ONE_TRICK_WITH_ANOTHER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>TOM MATCHES ONE TRICK WITH ANOTHER</h3> +</div> +<p>At the outset Joe swam at the rear, frequently +giving a light push to send the +log riding ahead. Tom and Hank swam +on either side, half-towing the timber that was +to be their buoy when needed.</p> +<p>All three, reared at the edge of salt water, as +they had been, were strong, splendid swimmers. +This night, however, with the rough waves, the +feat was especially dangerous.</p> +<p>“Swim the way a fellow does when he knows +he’s really <i>got</i> to,” was the young skipper’s +terse advice as they started.</p> +<p>It became a contest of endurance. Tom and +Joe, the two Maine boys, were doggedly determined +to reach their boat or perish in the attempt. +Hank Butts, the Long Island boy, +though perhaps possessing less fine courage +than either of his comrades, had a rough way +of treating danger as a joke. This may have +been a pretense, yet in times of peril it passed +well enough for grit.</p> +<p>Any one of the three could have swum a mile +readily on a lightly rolling sea, but to-night the +feat was a vastly sterner one. Hank was the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +first to give out, after going a little more than +an eighth of the distance. He swam to the log, +throwing his right arm over it and holding on +while the two Maine boys pushed and towed it. +Finally, when young Butts had broken away to +swim, Joe closed in, holding to the log for a +while. At last it came even doughty Tom Halstead’s +turn to seek this aid to buoyancy.</p> +<p>Nor had they covered half the distance, in all, +when all three found themselves obliged to hold +to the log, as it rolled and plunged, riding the +waves. Worst of all, despite their exertions, all +three now found their teeth chattering.</p> +<p>“Say, it begins to look like a crazy undertaking,” +declared Hank, with blunt candor. +“Can we possibly make it?”</p> +<p>“We’ve got to,” retorted Tom Halstead, his +will power unshaken.</p> +<p>“I don’t see the light over there any more,” +observed Hank, speaking the words in jerks of +one syllable, so intense was the shaking of his +jaws.</p> +<p>“Maybe the boat isn’t over yonder any +longer,” admitted Captain Tom, “but we’ve got +to chance it. And say, we’d better shove off and +try to swim again, to warm ourselves up. We’re +in danger of shaking ourselves plum to pieces.”</p> +<p>There was another great peril, on which none +of them had calculated well enough before starting. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +When they were clear of the log, swimming, +it pitched so on the tops of the waves that +it was likely, at any instant, to drive against the +head of one of the swimmers and crack his skull.</p> +<p>“If we had known all this before we +started––” began Hank, the next time the +three swimmers were driven to cling, briefly, to +their movable buoy.</p> +<p>“We’d have started just the same,” retorted +Tom, as stiffly as his chattering teeth would let +him speak.</p> +<p>“Humph!” muttered Hank, unbelievingly. +“It’s a fool’s dream, this kind of a swim.”</p> +<p>“It’s less work to go ahead than to turn back, +now,” broke in Joe, his teeth accompanying his +words with the clatter of castanets.</p> +<p>“No; the wind and tide would be with us +going back,” objected Butts. “We could almost +drift back.”</p> +<p>“And die of chills on the way,” contended +Tom, doggedly. “No, sir! We’ve got to go +ahead. I’m swimming to the tune of thoughts +of the galley fire aboard the ‘Restless’!”</p> +<p>“Br-r-r!” shook Hank, as the three cast loose +from the log once more and struck out, panting, +yet too cold to stay idle any longer.</p> +<p>It was tantalizing enough. The longer they +swam, the more the boys began to believe that +the island they sought was retreating from before +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +them. Hank was almost certain they were +moving in a circle, but Halstead, with a keen +sense of location, insisted that they were going +straight, even if very slowly, to the nameless +island.</p> +<p>“I see it,” breathed the young skipper, exultantly, +at last.</p> +<p>“What—the island?” bellowed Hank Butts.</p> +<p>“No; but I’d swear I saw the ‘Restless’ the +last time we rode a high wave,” Halstead +shouted back.</p> +<p>Ten minutes afterwards all three of the Motor +Boat Club boys caught occasional glimpses of +something dark and vague that they believed to +be the hull of their yacht. The belief gave them +renewed courage. Even Hank no longer had +any desire to turn back. His whole thought +centered on the lively times that were likely to +begin when they tried to regain control of their +boat from whomever had stolen it.</p> +<p>Then, bit by bit the trio worked their log +buoy into the cove. Once they were inside, the +water was very much smoother. Resting a few +moments for breath, they then made a last dash +forward, to get alongside.</p> +<p>In this smoother, more shallow water, the +“Restless” rode securely at anchor. As they +swam closer, the boys found that they could discover +no human presence on the decks. Had the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +boat-stealers gone ashore on the nameless island? +If so, it would be a comparatively easy matter +to get aboard and cut out of the cove with their +own craft.</p> +<p>Close up alongside they went. Tom Halstead +was the first to be able to reach up at the hull +and draw himself up over the side. Then, with +his pocket-knife, as he lay at the rail of the +“Restless,” the young skipper slashed the cord +that still held him bound to the log. Reaching +over, he passed the knife to Hank. In utter +silence the Long Island boy cut the clubs free, +and passed them up. Next Hank drew himself +aboard, after passing the jackknife to Joe Dawson.</p> +<p>Just a little later all three of the Motor Boat +Club boys found themselves standing on the deck, +each grasping his own firewood weapon. They +made no noise, for they knew not who, or +how many others might be on board below. If +they had a desperate gang of thieves to contend +with, then their troubles had not yet even +begun!</p> +<p>Joe and Hank stood where they were, shaking +as though in the last ditch of ague, while Halstead +went forward, with the soft tread of a cat, +to peer down into the motor room, the hatchway +of which stood open.</p> +<p>“Wonder if there’s anyone down there, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +asleep, or playing possum?” thought the young +skipper as he peered into the blackness and listened. +No sound of any kind came up to him. +At last, a short step at a time, Halstead descended +into the motor room, groping cautiously +about. Finally, he became confident enough to +feel in the galley match-box, extract a match and +light it. The tiny flame showed him that the +motor room was empty of human presence other +than his own.</p> +<p>“No one down forward,” he reported, in a +shaking whisper, when he rejoined his chilled +companions on deck.</p> +<p>“I believe there are plenty of folks in the +cabin, though,” reported Joe. “They’ve drawn +the port-hole and transom curtains, but they’ve +got a hidden light down there, and I can hear +voices.”</p> +<p>“Wait a moment, then,” said Captain Tom, +apprehensively. “I’ve an idea.”</p> +<p>He crept back into the motor room, again +striking a match. By the aid of this feeble light +he found his way to the passageway that connected +the motor room and the cabin under the +bridge deck. After a brief inspection he hurried +back to his comrades.</p> +<p>“The passage door is padlocked on the motor +room side,” he whispered. “Our pirates had +no key to unlock that with. Now, can you walk +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +the deck as though your shoes were soled with +loose cotton?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” grumbled Hank, disjointedly, “but +the snare-drum solo my teeth are doing may +make noise enough to give me away.”</p> +<p>“Cram your handkerchief between your +teeth,” retorted Captain Tom, practically. +“Come along, fellows. But hold your clubs +ready in case your feet betray you.”</p> +<p>Stealing along, each holding to the edge of +the deck house with one hand, the motor boat +boys approached the after hatchway. This, evidently +for purposes of ventilation, had been +left partly open.</p> +<p>Nudging his comrades to pause, Joe, bending +so low as to be almost flat on the deck, prowled +further aft.</p> +<p>There, in the darkness, he used his eyes to find +out what might be down in the cabin. Then he +came back.</p> +<p>“Eight tough-looking men in the cabin,” he +whispered, in Tom Halstead’s ear.</p> +<p>“Is Anson Dalton one of them?”</p> +<p>“Yep.”</p> +<p>“Hurrah! Then we’ve bagged him, at last!”</p> +<p>“Have we, though?” muttered Joe Dawson, +dubiously.</p> +<p>“Well, we’re going to,” declared Tom, radiantly. +“My boy, we’re going to cut out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +this cove with, the whole crew held in down +there.”</p> +<p>“Hope so,” assented Joe, not very enthusiastically.</p> +<p>“Why, we’ve got to,” argued Halstead. “If +we don’t, then that crew would have the upper +hand, instead, and make penny jumping-jacks +of us until they saw fit to let us go. But wait a +moment. I must get back and have a look at +them.”</p> +<p>This time it was the young skipper who +crawled aft. Joe and Hank followed part of +the way, holding their sticks in readiness in case +Dalton and his men discovered their presence.</p> +<p>“I reckon, Cap, you’ll find you’ve got the +right crowd for to-night’s work,” a rough voice +was declaring, as Halstead came within ear +range.</p> +<p>“Now, don’t you men misunderstand me,” +replied Anson Dalton in a smooth yet firm voice. +“I’m not paying you for any piratical acts. I +have to give a little heed to the laws of the +land, even if you fellows don’t. What I want is +this: At about two in the morning, when, most +likely, everyone will be asleep except the one +who is nursing the fellow Clodis, it is my plan +to run in at Lonely Island’s dock. We’ll get +quietly up to the house, suddenly force the door, +and rush in. But, mind you all, there’s to be no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +riot. Your numbers, and your rough appearance, +will be enough to scare the folks of the +bungalow. The two of you that I’ve already +picked out will rush in with a stateroom door +and one of the stateroom mattresses. With this +for a stretcher, you two will get Clodis carefully +and gently down to this boat. Then we’ll +sail away, and I’ll tell you what to do next. But +remember, no violent assault on anyone—no lawlessness, +no hurting anyone badly. Trust to +your numbers and suddenness. There’s some +baggage, too, in the bungalow, that I mean to +bring away with me. I’ll make off with it in the +confusion.”</p> +<p>“Oh, will you?” wondered Captain Tom Halstead, +his jaw settling squarely.</p> +<p>Then, tiptoeing softly over to where Hank +waited, the young skipper whispered something +in that youth’s ear. Hank fled quietly forward, +but returned with a snap-padlock, the ring of +which was open. With this in his hands Tom +stole back aft, this time going close, indeed, to +the hatchway.</p> +<p>“Hey! Someone on deck,” roared an excited +voice below.</p> +<p>There was an instant babel of voices, a rushing +of feet and a general rumpus below. Two +men in the van raced for the hatchway.</p> +<p>Slam! snap! click! Tom Halstead swung +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +the hatchway door shut, forced the stout hasp +over the staple and fastened the padlock in +place!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_CARRYING_DANGEROUS_LIVE_FREIGHT' id='CHAPTER_VI_CARRYING_DANGEROUS_LIVE_FREIGHT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>CARRYING DANGEROUS LIVE “FREIGHT”</h3> +</div> +<p>“Cooped!” chuckled Joe Dawson, jubilantly.</p> +<p>Yet his voice could not much more +than be heard above the racket that sounded below. +Anson Dalton and his seven rough men +were raising a hubbub, indeed.</p> +<p>“Smash the door down!” roared Dalton.</p> +<p>“Maybe we kin do it, boss, but the hatch is a +stout one, and we ain’t jest ’zactly fixed for +tools,” replied another voice.</p> +<p>After a few moments the fruitless hammering +with mere fists subsided. In that time Hank +Butts had raced forward, and now was back +again with a prize that he had caught up from +a locker near the motors. This was nothing +more nor less than the hitching weight that Hank +had once made very nearly famous, as described +in the preceding volume, “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The motor boat +club off long island</span>.”</p> +<p>“Let ’em get out if they can,” advised Hank, +grimly. “This for the feet, or the head, of the +first roustabout that shows himself!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></p> +<p>Joe now raced forward to set the motors in +motion. Though the young trio had temporary +command of the deck, there was no telling how +soon they would be overwhelmed. Every moment +must be made to count.</p> +<p>Captain Tom, grasping his stick, stood by to +help Hank in case the furious ones below succeeded +in breaking out.</p> +<p>Hardly any time passed before the rhythmic +chugging of the motors came to the young skipper’s +delighted ears. Then Joe waved his arms +as a signal from the raised deck forward. Halstead +swiftly joined his chum. Together they +got the anchor up, stowing it well enough for +the present.</p> +<p>“Now, you’d better get back to Hank, hadn’t +you?” quivered Joe. “I can handle speed and +the wheel, too.”</p> +<p>“Bless you, old Joe!” murmured Captain +Tom, fervently, and raced aft. Dawson leaped +to the wheel, at the same time setting one of the +bridge controls so that the “Restless” began to +move forward under slow speed. This move +came just in time, for, even in the cove, the +water had motion enough to threaten the yacht +with grounding.</p> +<p>But now alert Joe Dawson swung the boat’s +head around, pointing her nose out of the cove.</p> +<p>“Get that hatch down in a hurry!” sounded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +Anson Dalton’s hoarse voice, imperiously. “If +you don’t, we’ll all be tight in a worse trap than +this.”</p> +<p>Blows with fists and feet resounded once +more. Then, after an instant’s pause, came the +slower, harder thump-thump which told that one +of the strongest of those caught below was using +his shoulder, instead. Soon two cracks seamed +the surface of the hatch door.</p> +<p>“Good! Go at it hard!” encouraged the +voice of Dalton. “Batter it down. It will be +worth money—and freedom—to you and to us +all!”</p> +<p>“Yes, just clear a passage, and see what happens!” +roared back Tom Halstead, as soon as +he could make his own voice heard distinctly.</p> +<p>“Don’t mind the talk of those boys!” warned +Dalton, angrily, as there came a pause in the +shoulder assaults against the hatch.</p> +<p>With a grin Hank raised his iron hitching +weight above his head, hurling it down to the +deck with crashing force. Then, still grinning, +he stooped to pick it up again.</p> +<p>That noisy thump on the deck timbers caused +a brief ensuing silence down in the cabin. It +was plain that Dalton and his fellows were +wondering just how dangerous their reception +would be in case they succeeded in breaking +out. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p> +<p>The cabin was lighted, in day time, by side +ports and a barred transom overhead. The +ports were too small to permit of a man forcing +his way through. Even though they broke the +glass overhead, the prisoners in the cabin would +still have iron bars to overcome. Tom Halstead, +with his club, could hinder any work at +that point.</p> +<p>In the meantime, the “Restless,” once out of +the cove, was bounding over the waves like a +thing of life. Though the water had been hard +to swim through, it did not present a rough sea +for a fifty-five foot power boat.</p> +<p>In less than three minutes Engineer Joe Dawson +was sounding his auto whistle like mad as +he neared the dock at Lonely Island.</p> +<p>Just as the boat glided in, under decreased +headway, to the dock the bungalow door was +seen to open. Powell Seaton, shot-gun in hand, +appeared on the porch. He watched, not knowing +whether friend or foe commanded the “Restless.” +Mr. Seaton, himself, was made to stand +out brightly in the middle of the searchlight ray +that Joe turned upon him, yet he could not see +who was behind that light.</p> +<p>Running the boat in, bow-on, Joe leaped +ashore with the hawser. Making fast only at +the bow, he next raced up the board walk, shouting +the news to Mr. Seaton. The latter, with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +hail of delight, darted toward the dock, arriving +barely behind Dawson.</p> +<p>Down in the cabin the din of the men trying to +escape had redoubled. Powell Seaton tramped +hurriedly aft, while Tom and Joe fell in behind +him with heavy tread, to give the rascals below +an idea that numerous reinforcements had arrived.</p> +<p>Bang! Pausing before the hatch Mr. Seaton +raised the shot-gun to his shoulder, discharging +a single shell. Hastily slipping one into the +magazine of the weapon to replace the fired +one, Seaton shouted sternly:</p> +<p>“Stop your nonsense down there! If you get +out it will be only to run into the muzzles of +fire-arms. You fellows are fairly caught!”</p> +<p>There was a startled silence, followed by indistinct +mutterings. Not even Anson Dalton, +it appeared, cared to brave what looked like too +certain death.</p> +<p>Tom held a whispered consultation with his +employer, then stepped over to young Butts.</p> +<p>“Hank, we’re going to leave you on shore. +Mr. Seaton will come along with the gun. Keep +your eyes open—until you see us again! Don’t +be caught napping. Remember, you and Dr. +Cosgrove have the whole protection of that helpless +man, Clodis, <i>in</i> your hands.”</p> +<p>Hank Butts made a wry face for a moment. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +He would have much preferred to see the present +adventure through. Yet, a second later, +the Long Island boy bounded to the dock, then +stood to cast off the bow-line.</p> +<p>After the line had come aboard, Joe Dawson +again took his place at the wheel, turning on the +speed gradually as the boat rounded out past the +island, then turned in toward the mainland.</p> +<p>It was about five miles, in a direct westerly +course, to the shore, but by an oblique, northwesterly +course a fishing village some nine miles +away could be reached.</p> +<p>“Steer for the fishing village,” nodded Powell +Seaton. Captain Tom hurried forward to give +the order, adding: “Make it at full speed, Joe. +If you have to go to the engine, call me forward +to take the wheel.”</p> +<p>Soon afterwards Tom slipped into the motor +room, rubbed down and got on dry clothing. +Joe, in turn, did likewise, afterward returning +to the wheel.</p> +<p>Down in the cabin all had been quiet for some +minutes after the discharge of the gun on deck. +Yet Captain Tom, by peeping through the +transom, discovered the heads of Dalton and +some of his rough men close together in consultation.</p> +<p>“I’ll annoy them a bit,” chuckled the young +skipper, moving swiftly forward. Dropping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +down into the motor room he switched off all the +cabin lights. An instant roar of anger came +from below.</p> +<p>“Funny we didn’t think of that before,” +grinned Dawson, as Halstead came up out of +the motor room.</p> +<p>“It’ll bother the rascals a bit,” chuckled Captain +Tom back over his shoulder.</p> +<p>With such a boat as the “Restless” ordinary +distances are swiftly covered. It was barely +twenty-five minutes after leaving the dock that +Joe reached the entrance to the little harbor +around which the houses of the fishing village +clustered, nor had much speed been used.</p> +<p>Now the whistle sounded steadily, in short, +sharp blasts. Moreover, Dawson managed to +send the distress signal with the searchlight. +By the time he slowed down speed, then reversed, +to make the little wharf, a dozen men +had hurried down to the shore.</p> +<p>“What’s wrong?” hailed one of them.</p> +<p>“Get the sheriff, or a sheriff’s officer!” +shouted back Powell Seaton. “Be quick about +it, one of you, please, and the rest of you stay +here to help us.”</p> +<p>Joe sent the bow hawser flying ashore, Tom +doing the same with the stern line. Willing +hands caught both ropes, making them fast +around snubbing posts. As two men started +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +away on the run, the rest of the bystanders came +crowding aboard, filled with curiosity.</p> +<p>“What happens to be wrong on board?” demanded +one bronzed fisherman.</p> +<p>“We’ve a cabin full of pirates, or rascals +about as bad,” returned Mr. Seaton, grimly.</p> +<p>“Men of this coast?” asked another speaker.</p> +<p>“Yes, evidently,” nodded Mr. Seaton, whom +the new-comers had recognized as the owner of +Lonely Island.</p> +<p>“Then they must be the crew of the ‘Black +Betty,’” commented the first speaker.</p> +<p>“Is that a black, fifty-foot schooner, low in +the water, narrow and carrying tall masts with +a heavy spread of canvas?” interposed Tom +Halstead.</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded the fisherman. “That’s the +‘Black Betty.’ She claims to be a fishing boat, +but we’re ready to bet she’s a smuggler. She +carries nine men, including Captain Dave +Lemly.”</p> +<p>“I reckon we’ve got most of the ‘Black +Betty’ outfit below, then,” declared Captain +Halstead. “Or else—gracious!”</p> +<p>For, at that moment, the cracked hatch gave +in with a smash. Powell Seaton had neglected +to remain on guard closely. There was a surge +of the prisoners below.</p> +<p>“Halstead, you’ll hear from me again—and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +so will your crew!” shouted Anson Dalton out +of the press of struggling men that formed on +the after deck. “I won’t let you forget me, +Halstead!”</p> +<p>There was a splash past the rail. Dalton had +gone overboard, followed by two of his companions.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_POWELL_SEATONS_BAD_CASE_OF_FORGET' id='CHAPTER_VII_POWELL_SEATONS_BAD_CASE_OF_FORGET'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>POWELL SEATON’S BAD CASE OF “FORGET”</h3> +</div> +<p>“Don’t let any more get away!” called +Powell Seaton, excitedly.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead promptly leaped at +one of the rough fugitives just as the latter was +trying to reach the wharf. Another one Joe +Dawson grabbed. Several of the fishermen +sprang to help. For a minute or two there was +a good deal of confusion. When matters quieted +down, it was found that Halstead and Dawson, +with the fishermen helping, had secured five of +the rough lot.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, by threatening with his shot-gun, +had induced a sixth to swim ashore. But +Anson Dalton and another man, believed to be +Captain Dave Lemly of the “Black Betty,” had +escaped, swimming under water in the darkness. +They must have come to the surface at some +point not far away, yet, in the black darkness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +of the night, they managed to escape safely for +the time being, at any rate.</p> +<p>The six men thus arrested were forced inside +a ring of the fishermen, whose numbers had been +greatly increased by new arrivals. Powell +Seaton, his shot-gun on his shoulder, now +patrolled close to the human ring. Three or +four men hurried with Tom and Joe on a quest +for Anson Dalton and the latter’s companion in +flight.</p> +<p>In less than a quarter of an hour one of +the messengers who had first hurried away returned +with a deputy sheriff, who brought several +pairs of handcuffs. A justice of the peace +was aroused at his home, and held the prisoners +over for trial, after Powell Seaton had preferred +against them a charge of stealing the +yacht that was under his charter.</p> +<p>The search for Dalton and his companion was +given up, for it became plain that both had succeeded +in their effort to get away.</p> +<p>“It’s altogether too bad,” sighed Mr. Seaton, +on coming out of the justice’s house. “However, +we can be thankful for what success we +have had. We have the boat back and have +balked Dalton’s rascals in what they were planning +for to-night.”</p> +<p>“Are you going back to Lonely Island now, +sir?” asked Captain Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></p> +<p>“We must, very soon,” replied Mr. Seaton. +“Yet, Halstead, I’ve been thinking that I cannot +afford to take any further chances, with +Anson Dalton still at large. These fishermen +are a rough but honest lot of splendid fellows +in their way. I’m going to see if I can’t hire +a special guard of eight men for Lonely Island +for the present. I’ll engage the deputy sheriff +to vouch for the men I engage. So go down +to the boat and be ready for me as soon as I +arrive.”</p> +<p>Joe was aboard, waiting, when the young skipper +returned. Several of the men of the village +were still about the dock.</p> +<p>“We’re to be ready to cast off as soon as Mr. +Seaton gets here, Joe,” Captain Tom Halstead +announced. “Better look to your motors. If +you want any help, call on me.”</p> +<p>It did not take Mr. Seaton very long to recruit +the guard of eight men that he wanted. +Carrying rifles or shot-guns, borrowed in some +instances, the men tramped along after their +new employer. They came aboard, two or three +of them going below, the others preferring to remain +on deck.</p> +<p>“Cast off, Captain, as soon as you can,” directed +Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>Two or three of the new guards sprang forward +to help in this work. Halstead rang for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +half speed, then threw the wheel over, making +a quick start. Once under way, he called for +full speed, and the “Restless” went bounding +over the waves, which were running much lower +than a couple of hours earlier.</p> +<p>During the first half of the run Captain Halstead +remained at the wheel. Then Joe came +up from below, relieving him. Tom strolled +back to take a seat on the deck-house beside Mr. +Seaton.</p> +<p>“I’m on tenterhooks to get back,” confessed +the charter-man.</p> +<p>“Anxious about your friend, Clodis, of +course,” nodded Tom, understandingly.</p> +<p>“Partly that, yes. But there’s another matter +that’s bothering me fearfully, too. You remember +the packet of papers I took from Clodis’s +trunk?” asked Mr. Seaton, lowering his +voice.</p> +<p>“Yes,” murmured Tom. “But you have +those in an inner pocket.”</p> +<p>“I wish I had!” uttered Powell Seaton. +“Halstead, the truth is, after you young men +went out, this evening, to patrol about the island, +I became a little uneasy about that packet, and +took it out and hid it—under some boxes of ammunition +in the cupboard where I keep my gun. +Then I locked the closet door. When Dawson +called me from the porch, in such haste, and I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +was needed on board with my gun, I clean forgot +the packet for the instant.”</p> +<p>“Oh, it will be safe, anyway,” Tom assured +his employer. “Even if Dalton had been able +to get a boat at once, in this neighborhood, +there’s no other craft in these waters capable of +reaching Lonely Island earlier than we shall +do it.”</p> +<p>“I <i>do</i> hope that packet is safe,” muttered +Mr. Seaton, in a voice tense with anxiety. “Halstead, +you’ve no notion of the fearful blow it +would be to friends and to myself to have it disappear.”</p> +<p>Hearing a slight noise on the opposite side +of the deck-house top, Seaton and Tom Halstead +turned together. They were just in time +to see one of the new guards leaning toward +them, one hand out as though to steady himself.</p> +<p>“It’s rough footing on deck to-night,” said +the guard, with a pleasant laugh, then passed +on aft.</p> +<p>Tom took the helm again as the “Restless,” +after picking up the landing place with the +searchlight, moved into the harbor and went to +her berth.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton led all of his guards but one +up to the bungalow. The eighth man, armed +with a rifle, was left aboard the “Restless,” +with the searchlight turned on, ready for use at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +any moment. Tom and Joe went up to the +bungalow with their employer.</p> +<p>“Wait out on the porch for just a little +while,” called Mr. Seaton, in a low voice. “And +be careful to make no noise that will disturb +the sick man.”</p> +<p>Five minutes later Mr. Seaton returned to +the porch.</p> +<p>“I’ve been looking for that packet,” he whispered +to the young skipper. “It’s safe, so I’ve +left it in the same place.”</p> +<p>Then, after a moment, the owner of the bungalow +added:</p> +<p>“Captain, you can have your friend, Butts, +now, as we can do without him in the house. I +think you three had better turn in on the boat +and get some sleep. Then, soon after daylight, +I can have the guard at the wharf rouse you, +for I want you to go over to Beaufort and get +supplies for repairing the wireless outfit at the +earliest hour. Things are likely to happen soon +that will make it dangerous for me to be without +wireless communication with land and sea.”</p> +<p>Twenty minutes later the three Motor Boat +Club boys were stretched out in their berths in +the motor room. It was considerably later, +though, ere sleep came to them. When slumber +did reach their eyes they slept soundly until +called by the guard. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></p> +<p>Hank prepared a breakfast in record time. +After eating this, and after Hank had been sent +up to the house to learn whether there were any +further orders, the Motor Boat Club boys were +ready to cast off.</p> +<p>Once they were under way, Hank, not being +needed, went aft to stretch himself on one of the +cabin cushions. Joe, having his motors running +smoothly, followed Hank into the cabin. Dawson, +however, did not seek further sleep. He +wanted to make a more thorough test than he +had done a few hours before, in order to make +sure that the vandals locked in there the night +before had not thought to destroy his beloved +wireless instruments or connections.</p> +<p>“The whole wireless plant is in shape for instant +use,” he reported, coming back at last to +the bridge deck.</p> +<p>“That’s mighty good news,” declared Tom +Halstead. “With the man we are working for +now we’re likely to need the wireless at any +minute in the twenty-four hours.”</p> +<p>“Say,” ejaculated Joe, after a few moments +of silent thought, “there’s something hugely +mysterious and uncanny back of all these doings +of less than twenty-four hours. I wonder +what that big mystery really is?”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_RED_MESSAGE' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_RED_MESSAGE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THE RED MESSAGE</h3> +</div> +<p>When the boys reached Beaufort and +had tied up at a wharf, it was still too +early to expect to find any shops open. +They left Hank on watch, however, and went up +into the town, Joe to look, presently, for a dealer +in electrical supplies, while Captain Tom sought +a ship’s joiner to fit and hang a new hatch to +replace that smashed in the affair of the night +before. Both boys were presently successful, +though it was noon before the joiner had his task +finished.</p> +<p>While the last of the work on the new hatch +was being done, Tom and Joe went once more +uptown to get a message from Mr. Seaton’s attorney +regarding the date when the formal hearing +of the men arrested the night before would +take place in court. Hank Butts was left to +watch over the boat and keep an eye over the +joiner.</p> +<p>“Any strangers around here?” queried the +young skipper, after the joiner, his work completed, +had gone aboard.</p> +<p>“Only a young black boy,” Hank replied. +“He seemed curious to look over the boat, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +he didn’t offer to go below, or touch anything, +so I didn’t chase him off.”</p> +<p>“Cast off, Hank. Give us some power, Joe, +and we’ll get back to Lonely Island,” declared +the young captain, going to the wheel.</p> +<p>Hardly more than a minute later the “Restless” +was gliding out of the harbor.</p> +<p>“Guess Hank’s young negro visitor left a +note,” called up Joe, showing in the doorway of +the motor room and holding forth a note. Hank +took it, passing it to Halstead.</p> +<p>“Mind the wheel a minute, Hank, please,” requested +Tom, looking closely at the envelope.</p> +<p>It was addressed only to “Halstead,” the +writing being in red, and thick, as though laid +on with the point of a stick. The message on the +sheet inside was crisp and to the point. It ran:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +If you think your doings have been forgotten, you’ll soon +know differently!</p> +<p>“Humph!” muttered Joe, following up, and +taking the sheet as his chum held it out. “That +must be from Anson Dalton.”</p> +<p>“Or Captain Dave Lemly, of the ‘Black +Betty,’” returned Tom, without a trace of concern +in his tone.</p> +<p>“It’s a threat, all right,” muttered Hank +Butts, his hair bristling when the sheet came +into his hands. “Confound ’em, I hope whoever +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +sent this tries to make good—when we’re +looking!”</p> +<p>Just then Captain Tom changed the course +abruptly, the bows of the “Restless” sending up +a shower of spray that sprinkled Hank from +head to foot. As he turned to get out of the +way the wind caught the sheet written in red +from his hand, blowing it out across the water.</p> +<p>“Let it go,” laughed Tom. “We know all +the red message had to say.”</p> +<p>“The negro that I allowed on deck came on +purpose to drop the note where it would be +found,” muttered Hank.</p> +<p>“No matter,” smiled Tom. “We’re always +glad to know that we’re remembered by nice +people.”</p> +<p>“I’d like to have that black boy here for a +minute or two,” grunted Hank, clenching his +fists.</p> +<p>“What for?” Tom Halstead queried. “He +probably didn’t have any guilty knowledge +about the sender.”</p> +<p>“That reminds me,” broke in Joe. “Stand +close by the motors a few minutes, will you, +Hank?”</p> +<p>With that Dawson vanished aft. When he +came back he announced:</p> +<p>“I’ve just flashed the wireless word back to +Mr. Seaton’s lawyer about the message we got, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +advising the lawyer that it probably shows Dalton, +or Lemly, or both, to be in Beaufort. And +the lawyer was able to send me news, received +just after we left.”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“The schooner, ‘Black Betty,’ has just been +seized, thirty miles down the coast, by United +States officers. She’ll be held until the customs +men have had a chance to look into the charges +that the schooner has been used in the smuggling +trade.”</p> +<p>“Was Lemly caught with her?” asked Tom, +eagerly.</p> +<p>“No such luck,” retorted Joe.</p> +<p>“I’d feel better over hearing that Dave Lemly +was the prisoner of the United States Government,” +remarked young Halstead. “If he +keeps at liberty <i>he</i> is the one who is going to +be able to make Anson Dalton dangerous to us.”</p> +<p>“Then you’re beginning to be afraid of that +pair, are you?” asked Joe Dawson, looking +up.</p> +<p>“No, I’m not,” rejoined Tom Halstead, his +jaws firmly set. “A man—or a boy, either for +that matter—who can be made afraid of other +people isn’t fit to be trusted with the command +of a boat on the high seas. But I’ll say this +much about my belief concerning Dalton: For +some reason we’ve been in his way, and are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +likely to be much more in his way before we’re +through with him. If Dalton got a chance, he +wouldn’t hesitate to wreck the ‘Restless,’ or to +blow her up. For any work of that sort Dave +Lemly is undoubtedly his man.”</p> +<p>“What can make them so desperate against +Mr. Seaton?” queried Joe.</p> +<p>“We can’t even guess, for we don’t yet know +the story that’s behind all this mystery and +the list of desperate deeds.”</p> +<p>“I wonder if Mr. Seaton will ever tell us?” +pondered Joe.</p> +<p>“Not unless he thinks we really need to +know.”</p> +<p>“But he has already hinted that it’s all in a +big fight for a fortune,” urged Hank.</p> +<p>“Yes, and we can guess that the fight centers +in South America, since that is where Clodis +was bound for when this business started,” replied +Skipper Tom.</p> +<p>“I wonder if there’s any chance that our +cruise will reach to South America?” broke in +Hank Butts, eagerly.</p> +<p>“Hardly likely,” replied Tom, with a shake +of the head. “If there had been even a chance +of that, Mr. Seaton would have arranged for +an option extending beyond the end of this +month.”</p> +<p>“Just my luck,” grumbled Hank, seating +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +himself on the edge of the deck-house. “Nothing +big ever happens to me.”</p> +<p>“Say, you’re hard to please,” laughed Joe, +turning and going down into the motor room.</p> +<p>They were not long in making Lonely Island, +where the “Restless” was tied up and the hatchways +locked securely. The boys were not required +to remain at the boat, one of the guards +being stationed, night or day, at the wharf.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton was much interested in the account +Tom gave him of the red message, though +he did not say much.</p> +<p>There was no change or improvement in the +condition of Mr. Clodis, who still lay in a darkened +room, like one dead.</p> +<p>That afternoon Joe, with some help from his +comrades, repaired the bungalow’s wireless +plant and got in touch with the shore once +more.</p> +<p>Through the night four men were kept on +guard, one on the porch, another at the wharf, +and two others patrolling the island. No attempt +of any sort on the part of Dalton or the +latter’s confederates was discovered.</p> +<p>The next morning brought still no change in +the condition of Clodis. He was alive, breathing +feebly, and Dr. Cosgrove was attempting to +ward off an attack of brain fever.</p> +<p>Through the forenoon Joe was kept rather +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +busy sending messages ashore to the authorities, +for Powell Seaton, though not leaving the +island, was waging a determined campaign to +get hold of Dalton.</p> +<p>“I don’t need Dalton, particularly,” confessed +Mr. Seaton, as he sat with the three motor +boat boys at the noon meal. “But it would be +worth a very great deal of money to get back +the papers that Dalton must have stolen after +assaulting my sick friend, yonder, on board the +‘Constant.’”</p> +<p>“Do you—do you know—what was in the +stolen papers?” asked Captain Tom Halstead, +hesitatingly.</p> +<p>“Very well, indeed,” rejoined their employer, +with emphasis. “But the real trouble is that I +don’t want to have that knowledge pass to the +gang that are behind Anson Dalton.”</p> +<p>“Yet Dalton must have had time to join his +principals, or confederates, by this time, and +turn the papers over to them,” hazarded Halstead.</p> +<p>“That’s hardly likely,” murmured Powell +Seaton, “since the gang of rascals behind Anson +Dalton must be, at this moment, somewhere in +the interior of Brazil.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said Tom, reflectively.</p> +<p>“You’re curious, I see, to know what all this +great mystery means,” smiled Mr. Seaton. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></p> +<p>“I—I don’t want to let myself be curious +about what is none of my business,” declared +Tom Halstead, bluntly.</p> +<p>“I’m going to tell you the story now, just the +same,” replied Powell Seaton, in a still lower +voice.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_MR_SEATON_UNBURDENS_HIMSELF' id='CHAPTER_IX_MR_SEATON_UNBURDENS_HIMSELF'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>MR. SEATON UNBURDENS HIMSELF</h3> +</div> +<p>“Really, I see no reason why I shouldn’t +tell you,” went on the charter-man of +the “Restless.” “When I first engaged +you youngsters and your boat for this +month I had little more in mind than using your +boat for pleasure cruising about here. Yet the +fact that you had a wireless equipment aboard +the ‘Restless’ <i>did</i> influence me not a little, for +I had at least a suspicion that big affairs might +come to pass, and that telegraphing from ship +to ship might be wonderfully convenient.</p> +<p>“At the same time, I was careful to look up +the references that you gave me, Captain Halstead. +Those references were so wholly satisfactory +that I know I can trust you to serve me +as bravely and loyally as you have, in the past, +been called upon to serve others. And now, just +for the reason that you may be called upon to +take some big fighting chances for me, I’m going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +to tell you what lies back of the curtain of mystery +that you’ve been staring at.”</p> +<p>As his voice died out Powell Seaton arose, +locked the door and glanced out through the +windows. Then he returned to the table, motioning +to the boys to incline their heads close +to his.</p> +<p>“Probably,” began their host, “you’ve regarded +me as a wealthy man, and, until the last +two or three days, as one of leisure. I am reasonably +well-to-do in this world’s goods, but +most of my life, since I was twenty, has been +passed in storm and stress.</p> +<p>“It is not necessary to tell you all about the +life that I have led. It will be enough to tell +you that, three years ago, not satisfied that my +fortune was large enough, I went to Brazil in +order to learn what chance there might be of +picking up money fast in that country.</p> +<p>“In Brazil there are many ways of making a +fortune, though perhaps not as many as right +here at home. However, there are fewer fortune-seekers +there. In coffee, rubber and in +many other staples fortunes may be made in +Brazil, but the biggest, wildest, most desperate +and scrambling gamble of all is found in the +diamond-digging fields.</p> +<p>“Most of the diamond fields have, perhaps, +been discovered, and their working has become +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +systematized to a regular, dividend-paying +basis. There are still, however, some fields not +yet located. It was a small field, but one which +I believe may be worth millions, that I located +somewhat more than a year ago. See here!”</p> +<p>From an inner pocket Powell Seaton drew +forth an ordinary wallet. Opening it, he +dropped out on the table six diamonds. Though +none was of great size, all of the stones were of +such purity and such flashing brilliancy that +the motor boat boys gazed at them in fascination.</p> +<p>“They must be worth a fortune,” declared +Hank Butts, in an awed, subdued tone.</p> +<p>“Not exactly,” smiled Mr. Seaton. “These +stones have been appraised, I believe, at about +twelve thousand dollars.”</p> +<p>After passing the gems from hand to hand, +the owner of the bungalow replaced them in the +wallet, returning the latter to the same pocket +before he resumed:</p> +<p>“This new diamond field, a patent to which +has not yet been filed with the Brazilian Government, +is in the state of Vahia. There is no +harm in telling anyone that, as Vahia is a state +of great area. It is in a section little likely to +be suspected as a diamond field, and the chance +that someone else will accidentally discover and +locate it is not large.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span></p> +<p>“Yet you know the exact location—can go +right to it?” breathed Tom Halstead, his eyes +turned squarely on Mr. Seaton’s.</p> +<p>“Yes, but I don’t dare go to it,” came the +smiling answer.</p> +<p>“Oh! May I ask why not, sir?”</p> +<p>“The Government of Brazil is, in the main, +an honest one,” replied Powell Seaton. “The +President of that country is an exactly just and +honorable man. Yet not quite as much can be +said for the governments of <i>some</i> of the states +of that country. The governor of Vahia, Terrero, +by name, is probably one of the worst +little despots in South America.</p> +<p>“Now, as it happened, before I came to know +anything about this new diamond field I had +the bad fortune to make an enemy of Governor +Terrero. Some American friends were being +shamefully treated by this rascally governor, +and I felt called upon to become mixed up in the +affair. I even went so far that I incurred the +deadly hatred of Terrero. It was right after +this that I came upon my diamond field. But +Terrero’s enmity was pressing upon me, and I +had to flee from Brazil.”</p> +<p>“Why?” asked Tom, wonderingly.</p> +<p>“Do you know how things are done in South +America?” demanded Powell Seaton, impressively. +“If a man like Terrero hates you, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +has only to inspire someone to prefer a serious +charge against you. The charge may be wholly +false, of course, but officers and soldiers are +sent, in the dead of the night, to arrest you. +These wretches, when they serve wicked enough +officials, shoot you down in cold blood. Then +they lay beside your body a revolver in which +are two or three discharged cartridges. They +report, officially, that you resisted arrest and did +your best to kill the members of the arresting +party. This infamous lie all becomes a matter +of official record. Then what can the United +States Government do about it? And the governor, +or other rascally official, has triumphed +over you, and the matter is closed. Though an +honest man, Halstead, you are officially a desperate +character who <i>had</i> to be killed by the +law’s servants. It was such a fate that Terrero +was preparing for me, but I escaped his +wicked designs.”</p> +<p>“That must be a nice country!” murmured +Hank Butts.</p> +<p>“Yet you say the President of Brazil is an +honorable man?” asked Halstead. “Can’t he +remove such a governor?”</p> +<p>“The President would, in a moment, if he +could be supplied with proofs,” rejoined Powell +Seaton, with emphasis. “Governor Terrero is +a wily, smooth scoundrel who is well served by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +men of his own choice stamp. Terrero is +wealthy, and backed by many other wealthy +men who have been growing rich in the diamond +fields. In fact, though they are wonderfully +smooth about it, the Terrero gang are terrors to +all honest diamond men in that one part of +Brazil.”</p> +<p>“So, then,” hinted Captain Tom, “you know +where to find one of the rich diamond mines of +the world, but you don’t dare go to it?”</p> +<p>“I’d dare,” retorted Mr. Seaton, his eyes +flashing. “But what would be the use of daring? +I am almost certain to be killed if I ever +show my face in Vahia while Terrero is alive. +So, then, this is what I have done: Since my +return to this country I have been arranging, +ever so quietly, with moneyed men who have +faith in me and in my honesty. After much +dickering we have arranged a syndicate that is +backed by millions of dollars, if need be. And +we may need to spend a good deal of money +before we get through. We may even have to +try to turn Terrero’s most trusted lieutenants +against him. We won’t, if we can help it, but +we may have to. The stake is a big one!</p> +<p>“Through turning this business over to the +syndicate I am bound to lose the greater portion +of the fortune that might have been mine +from this great enterprise. Yet, even as it is, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +I stand to reap rich returns if ever the syndicate +can locate and secure the patent to the diamond +fields that I discovered.</p> +<p>“At this moment three members of our syndicate +are in Rio Janeiro. They are big, solid +American men of moneyed affairs. As far as +they permit to be known, they are in Brazil only +as a matter of vacation and pleasure. In truth, +they are awaiting the arrival of Albert Clodis +on the ‘Constant.’ When he had arrived, with +the papers from me showing where and how to +locate the diamond field, they were to have +moved quickly, spending plenty of money, and +filing a patent to the fields. Under the law the +Brazilian Government would be entitled to a +large share of the find in precious stones, but +even at that our share would have been enormous. +Once the patent to the diamond field was +filed, the President and the whole National +Government of that country could be depended +upon to protect the owner’s rights, even against +the greed and treachery of Terrero. So all that +appeared to be left to do was to get to my +friends of the syndicate the two sets of papers +that would enable them to locate the unknown +diamond field. Neither set of papers is worth +anything by itself, but with the two sets the +field can be promptly located.</p> +<p>“My first thought was to send the two sets +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +of papers by two different men. Yet, strange +as it may appear to you boys, I could not decide +upon two men whom I felt I could fully trust +under all circumstances. You have no idea how +I have been watched, the last year, by agents of +Terrero. Dalton, though an American, is one +of the worst of these secret agents of the governor +of Vahia. <i>I</i> knew how thoroughly I was +being watched, and I, in turn, have had others +watching Anson Dalton as effectively as it could +be done in a free country like the United States.</p> +<p>“Well, to make this long story short, when I +had all else in readiness I decided upon Bert +Clodis as the one man I could fully trust to +deliver the two sets of papers to the members +of the syndicate at Rio Janeiro. I believed, too, +at the time, though I could not be sure, that my +relations with Bert Clodis were unknown to +Anson Dalton.</p> +<p>“Yet, not for a moment did I trust too thoroughly +to that belief. I had Dalton watched. +If he engaged passage aboard the ‘Constant,’ +my suspicions would be at once aroused. We +now know that he secured passage, by mail, under +the name of Arthur Hilton. Beyond the +slightest doubt Dalton, that infernal spy, had +succeeded in discovering that I was sending +Clodis with the papers. Yet Dalton, or Hilton, +as he chose to call himself, did not go aboard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +the ‘Constant’ openly at New York. I can +only guess that he boarded from the tug that +took off the pilot when the liner had reached +open sea.</p> +<p>“I had impressed upon Bert Clodis the importance +of keeping the two sets of papers +apart, and had advised him that it might not +be safe to deposit either in the purser’s safe, +from which they might be taken through the +means of a deep-sea burglary.</p> +<p>“So the probability is that Bert Clodis had +one set of papers concealed on his person. The +other set of papers—the one I now have safe—he +seems to have put away in his trunk, believing +that no one seeking to rob him would think +him simple enough to leave valuable papers in +a trunk that could be rather easily entered in +the hold of a liner.</p> +<p>“As I have already told you, I had the ship +watched at New York, and received a message, +after her sailing, which told me that no one +answering Dalton’s description had boarded the +‘Constant’ at her pier.</p> +<p>“As the liner entered this latitude Bert Clodis +was to send off a wireless message which, +though apparently rather blind, would be +enough to advise me that no one answering to +Dalton’s description had appeared among the +passengers or crew of the ‘Constant.’ This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +news I awaited at the wireless station at Beaufort, +and you can imagine my anxiety.”</p> +<p>“That was why, then,” broke in Joe, suddenly, +“when I received that message about the +injury to Mr. Clodis, you were able to break in +so quickly?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded Mr. Seaton. “I was waiting, +and was on tenterhooks. I would have joined +you, and would have gone out in haste to receive +Bert Clodis myself, but I realized that, if I delayed +you, the big liner would get past us, and +Bert Clodis must most likely die on the way to +Brazil.”</p> +<p>“Why weren’t you out here, sir, at this bungalow, +where you could have received the message +as well, and then have gone out with us +on the ‘Restless’?” inquired Tom Halstead, with +deepest interest in this strange narration.</p> +<p>“I was at Beaufort,” responded Mr. Seaton, +“because I felt it very necessary to be where I +could use a private wire to New York that I had +reserved. I was, at that time, waiting for word +from New York of any possible discovery that +could be made concerning the movements of the +infamous Dalton, whom I did not then know, or +believe, to be on board the ‘Constant.’”</p> +<p>There was silence for a few moments, but +Powell Seaton at last went on, thoughtfully:</p> +<p>“We now know that Bert Clodis did <i>not</i> deposit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +any papers with the purser of the ship. +One set of the papers, therefore, must have been +tucked away in his clothing. Dalton, after assaulting +Bert Clodis, or having it done, must +have rifled his pockets and found one set. He +even had time to look through them and discover +that that set was incomplete. Then, on +seeing Clodis’s trunk go aboard the ‘Restless’ +with the injured man, Dalton guessed that the +remaining papers might be in the trunk. That +was why Dalton decided to leave the ‘Constant.’ +But your flat refusal to let him go down into the +cabin, where the baggage had been taken, foiled +the fellow at that point. Then, fearing that he +would run into me, and that I might even resort +to violence, Dalton hailed that schooner, the +‘Black Betty,’ and made his momentary escape.”</p> +<p>“No doubt,” interposed Halstead, “Dalton +has had plenty of chance to put <i>his</i> set of the +stolen papers in safe hiding. But isn’t it barely +likely that he had already engaged Captain +Dave Lemly to be hanging about in these waters +with that little black schooner?”</p> +<p>“Wholly likely,” nodded Mr. Seaton, thoughtfully. +“However, boys, I have trusted you with +as much as my very life is worth in telling you +all this. I would rather lose my life than see +my friends, as well as myself, beaten in this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +great diamond game. As the matter now stands, +Dalton has won the first step, but he hasn’t +enough knowledge to enable his employer, Terrero, +to locate my precious find. I can duplicate +the missing papers, and the other set, which +I have here secure, I must also send to Rio +Janeiro by some other most trusted messenger, +should Clodis, poor fellow, die, or prove unfit +to make another attempt.”</p> +<p>“And do you think, sir, that there’s only one +honest man on earth?” asked Tom Halstead, in +considerable surprise.</p> +<p>“There are several men that I <i>believe</i> to be +honest,” returned the owner of the bungalow, +“yet only one that I know to be <i>honest</i>, and who +possesses at the same time the judgment to undertake +a mission like the one I have been telling +you about.”</p> +<p>“Then it won’t really do Dalton any good to +start for Brazil unless he can get hold of the +contents of the other set of papers?” Halstead +asked, after a pause of a few moments.</p> +<p>“Not until the fellow can get his clutches on +the papers that I have secretly locked in that +closet over there,” confirmed Mr. Seaton. +“And I have told none but you trustworthy +youngsters that the other set <i>is</i> hidden in such +an easy place to get at.”</p> +<p>Then, as though struck by a thought, Powell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +Seaton crossed the room, drawing his key-ring +from a pocket. He fitted the right key to the +door, and swung the latter open. An instant +more, and there came from Mr. Seaton’s lips a +cry much like the frightened howl of a wild +beast.</p> +<p>“The second set of papers is gone—stolen +from here!”</p> +<p>There was an almost simultaneous gasp of +consternation from the three Motor Boat Club +boys as they rushed forward. But they had no +need to search. Seaton had done that thoroughly, +and now he turned to eye them. As +he stared—or glared—a new thought came into +Seaton’s mind, reflecting itself in his eyes. The +boys could see him fighting against his own new +suspicion.</p> +<p>“Halstead,” cried Powell Seaton, clutching +at the side of the doorway, “I told you all about +this hiding place. I trusted you!”</p> +<p>It was Tom Halstead’s turn to go deathly +white and stagger.</p> +<p>“Do you mean, sir, that YOU SUSPECT +ME?” demanded the young skipper, in a voice +choked with horror.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_TRAITOR_AT_THE_AERIALS' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_TRAITOR_AT_THE_AERIALS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>THE TRAITOR AT THE AERIALS</h3> +</div> +<p>“Wait! Don’t take anything too seriously. +I’ve—got to—think!”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton had stood, for two +or three moments, staring from Halstead to the +other motor boat boys.</p> +<p>“Humph! Well, this is good, but I don’t +like it,” grimaced Hank Butts, taking two steps +backward.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton began to pace the room, his +hands at his head. He looked like one who suddenly +found it impossible to think.</p> +<p>Hank opened his mouth to say something +angry, but Captain Tom checked him with a +look and a gesture.</p> +<p>“May we search in that closet for you, sir?” +called Halstead, when a thud told that the owner +of the bungalow had dropped heavily back into +his chair.</p> +<p>“You may look there, if you want to. Anyone +may look there—now!” uttered the amazed +one.</p> +<p>Without saying more Tom, in deep agitation, +began the task he had invited upon himself. +Joe Dawson came and stood looking quietly over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +his chum’s shoulder, ready to help if necessary. +As for Hank, he stood, a picture of injured pride, +staring at the distracted man.</p> +<p>“No; there’s nothing here,” admitted Halstead, +at last. “At least, the only thing we’re +interested in isn’t here.”</p> +<p>“Of course it isn’t,” moaned Seaton. “Yet +you boys were the only ones I told. And, the +only time I left the house, it was safe upon my +return. I also told you boys that.”</p> +<p>“If he keeps on talking in that strain,” muttered +Hank, half-aloud, “I’ll make his head +ache!”</p> +<p>“No, you won’t,” uttered Captain Tom, gripping +his comrade’s arm almost fiercely. +“There’s trouble enough on the premises as it +is. Hold your tongue, Hank, until we’re all in +a good mood to say pleasant things.”</p> +<p>Thereupon, with a snort, Hank dragged a +chair into a far corner, and seated himself in it.</p> +<p>Halstead walked slowly to the table, on which +Mr. Seaton was resting his elbows, his face +buried in his hands.</p> +<p>“There must be some explanation for this, +Mr. Seaton,” began the young motor boat skipper, +more calmly. “I don’t mind your first suspicion +of me, because––”</p> +<p>“Not you, more than the others,” broke in +the bungalow’s owner, excitedly. “All of you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +young men knew about the hiding-place. You +were the only ones besides myself who did +know.”</p> +<p>Again Hank gripped his fists tightly, but a +stern look from Joe Dawson prevented Butts +from giving any further expression of his feelings.</p> +<p>“Don’t sit there like that, Mr. Seaton,” broke +in Tom Halstead, once more. “Whatever has +happened, something must be done—and it must +be the right thing, and at once.”</p> +<p>“You can search us, if you want––” began +Hank’s growling voice, but Joe Dawson stood +before him, towering in grim purpose.</p> +<p>“Don’t you open your mouth again, Hank, +until you’ve collected some sense,” warned Joe. +“Let Tom do the talking. He’s the captain, +anyway.”</p> +<p>“You’re right,” responded Powell Seaton, +looking up in a good deal of a daze. “I must +do something—quickly—yet what?”</p> +<p>“If anyone has stolen the final set of papers,” +advanced the young skipper, “it must have been +either Dalton or someone working for him. In +either case, Dalton must now have the papers, +or he soon will have.”</p> +<p>“But what does this lead to?” inquired Mr. +Seaton, regarding his young captain dubiously.</p> +<p>“Why, sir, it must be plain that the best +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +course is to drop all other steps and concentrate +every bit of your energy and ingenuity +on getting hold of Anson Dalton.”</p> +<p>“Yet what can I do to him, if I do?”</p> +<p>“In the first place, you might charge him with +being the man who struck Albert Clodis over +the head. That would be enough to have your +man arrested on, even if you couldn’t prove the +charge. A charge that you <i>can</i> fight on is that +of having helped to steal the ‘Restless’ the other +night. If you can only get the fellow locked up, +then you’ll have more time to find out whether +there’s any way of getting the missing papers +away from him, or from any hiding place in +which he has put them.”</p> +<p>“Lock the fellow up?” jeered Powell Seaton. +“Bah, boy, you don’t seem to realize the money +that’s behind him. Ten thousand dollars, or a +hundred thousand, it would all be the same, +and Dalton, out on bail, could flee in whatever +direction he wanted to.”</p> +<p>“Then what <i>are</i> you going to do?” demanded +Captain Tom, incisively.</p> +<p>In this instant of utter uncertainty a tinkling +of a bell broke in upon them. It was the call +bell that Dawson had attached to the wireless +apparatus.</p> +<p>“Remember, <i>you</i> keep quiet,” almost whispered +Joe to Hank, then quitted the room +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +hastily. Butts suddenly began to grin sheepishly. +Rising, he sauntered over to a window.</p> +<p>Joe had hurried to the wireless room on the +mere chance that it might be a message for +Lonely Island. It was much more likely to be +the regular business of ships passing on the +sea. But as he entered the room Dawson heard +the clicking call from a receiving instrument:</p> +<p>“CBA! CBA!” That was Lonely Island’s +call surely enough.</p> +<p>Breaking in at the key, Joe sent the sparks +chasing each other up the aerials. Having answered, +he slipped on the head-band, fitting the +watch-case receivers over his ears. Picking up +a pencil, he wrote.</p> +<p>It was a rush telegram from Mr. Seaton’s +lawyer, up at Beaufort, and it read:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Man much resembles description of Dalton has just been +reported embarking on seventy-foot cruising motor boat +ten miles above this city. Man in command of boat positively +said to be Captain Dave Lemly.</p> +<p>“Remain at wire for further talk,” Joe’s +trembling fingers signaled back. Then, leaping +up, he bounded into the next room.</p> +<p>“Read it to me,” Powell Seaton begged.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead took the sheet, reading rapidly +yet clearly. The young skipper was excited, +though he forced himself to remain cool. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p> +<p>“There’s your call to action, Mr. Seaton,” +he wound up with.</p> +<p>“Yes, but what action?” demanded the owner +of the bungalow. Ever since the discovery of +the loss of the papers this man had seemed all +but unable to speak.</p> +<p>“We’ve got to overhaul that other motor boat, +though her length will have to be description +enough if we can’t get a better one,” declared +the young skipper. “Hank, go down and open +up the motor room. Start the motors going, +though be gentle. Don’t break anything, or put +the motors out of business. Joe, go back to +the wireless, and see whether you can get a more +exact description of that boat—especially the +course she is believed to have sailed on. Hustle! +Mr. Seaton, hadn’t you better inform Dr. Cosgrove +that you’ll be absent for a while?”</p> +<p>The owner of the bungalow moved as though +glad of directions that saved him the trouble +of thinking.</p> +<p>Joe promptly sent a wireless back to Beaufort +asking for a better description of the seventy-footer +and the last course upon which she had +been seen.</p> +<p>The only further word the lawyer’s informant +could furnish, as Joe ascertained ten minutes +later, was that the boat was painted a drab tint +and had a “smoke-stack” ventilator. When last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +seen the boat was heading out nearly due east +from her starting-point.</p> +<p>“Going out to meet a liner, for some port,” +clicked Tom, as he heard the news. “Well, it’s +our business to find that drab motor boat.”</p> +<p>As Joe caught up his cap, Mr. Seaton looked +rather uncertainly from one boy to the other.</p> +<p>“You say we’re to go out on this jaunt over +the water,” remarked the owner of the bungalow. +“But I don’t know. Perhaps you want +me to go too badly. There may be something +behind––”</p> +<p>“Stop right where you are, if you please, +sir,” broke in Tom Halstead, a decided trace of +bitterness in his tone. “You’re still more than +half-inclined to suspect us boys of causing the +loss of the papers you had hidden in the closet. +I am not blaming you altogether, Mr. Seaton, +though you are doing us a great injustice. But +you <i>must</i> believe in us just at the present time, +for going with us offers you your only chance +of catching up with Dalton and saving your +own friends of the syndicate. Come along, sir! +Try to trust us, whether it seems wise or not, +since it’s your only chance.”</p> +<p>The young skipper seized his charter-man by +one arm, almost dragging him along. Yet +Powell Seaton, who was in a state of horrible +uncertainty, permitted this forcing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></p> +<p>Outside, on the porch, Captain Tom hesitated +for a moment, then, after glancing at the guards, +went on briskly:</p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton, I know you don’t want to carry +an armed force for purposes of attack on anyone, +and you wouldn’t have a right to do it, anyway. +But, as we may be attacked, if we run +afoul of Dalton and his friends, won’t it be +much better if you take at least a couple of +your armed guards from this place?”</p> +<p>Nodding curtly, Mr. Seaton called to Hepton +and Jasper, two of the guards, explaining +that they were needed for a cruise on the +“Restless.” The pair followed along after +the others.</p> +<p>“You can keep your rifles, just as well, in +the motor room,” suggested Captain Tom, and +the fire-arms were placed below.</p> +<p>Hank had everything in readiness for casting +off. Within forty-five seconds after boarding, +the “Restless” was under way, poking her nose +in a north-easterly direction.</p> +<p>“We’d better loaf later on, rather than now, +Joe,” proposed the young skipper. “See how +much speed you can crowd out of the motors.”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton chose to go aft, all alone, dropping +into one of the deck arm-chairs. For a +long time he remained there, moody and silent.</p> +<p>“What liner do you figure on Dalton trying +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +to overtake and board?” queried Joe, coming +up at last out of the motor room.</p> +<p>“Why, I don’t just know,” confessed Tom, +pondering. “But I’ll tell you what you can do, +Joe. Leave Hank to watch the motors. You +go to the wireless apparatus and send out the +longest spark you can get. Direct your call to +any vessel bound for Rio Janerio, or Brazil in +general. If you get an answer from such a +craft, ask her latitude and longitude, course and +speed, so we can make for her directly.”</p> +<p>As Joe nodded, then dropped down into the +motor room, intending to go by the passageway +under the bridge deck, Tom noted a lurking +figure a few feet behind him.</p> +<p>“Hullo! What are you doing there, Jasper?” +queried the young captain.</p> +<p>“Jest mindin’ my own business,” replied the +man, with a half-surly grin.</p> +<p>“I’m minding mine, in asking you,” retorted +Halstead, quietly. “I don’t like passengers so +close to me when I’m handling the boat.”</p> +<p>“I s’pose mebbe you don’t,” rejoined Jasper, +yet making no move.</p> +<p>“Won’t you take a hint?” asked Tom, rather +bluntly.</p> +<p>“Where d’ye want me to stand?” asked the +fellow, sulkily.</p> +<p>“You could go further aft, for instance,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +replied Tom. One hand on the wheel, he stood +half-turned, eying this stubborn guard.</p> +<p>“Oh, all right,” came gruffly from Jasper, as +he started slowly aft.</p> +<p>“Maybe I’m wrong for thinking much about +it,” muttered Tom, under his breath, “yet it +was this same man who was so close to us the +other night when Mr. Seaton and I were talking +about the papers hidden in the closet at +the bungalow.”</p> +<p>Two or three minutes later a slight sound +caused the young skipper to turn with a start. +He saw Jasper in the very act of fitting a wire-nipper +to one of the parallel wires of the aerial +of the wireless.</p> +<p>In an instant Captain Tom Halstead jammed +his wheel and locked it. Then he dashed at the +fellow.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_THE_DRAB_BOAT_SHOWS_HER_NOSE' id='CHAPTER_XI_THE_DRAB_BOAT_SHOWS_HER_NOSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE DRAB BOAT SHOWS HER NOSE</h3> +</div> +<p>“You keep off!” snarled Jasper, drawing +back on the defensive, holding the wire-nippers +so as to use them in defending +himself.</p> +<p>But, if the young captain of the “Restless” +knew any fear, at such moments, he didn’t permit +others to see it. He neither stopped nor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +swerved. Ducking in under Jasper’s extended +right arm, Tom closed with the fellow, grappling.</p> +<p>“Confound ye! I’ll have to throw ye over +into the water!” growled Jasper, fighting for a +hold around the boy’s waist and behind his back. +But Halstead fought to break the grip, at the +same time yelling:</p> +<p>“Hank! Here, mighty quick!”</p> +<p>Jasper fought, trying to force the young commander +to the rail. He had half succeeded when +Hank Butts raced on deck. Hepton, the other +guard, who had been lounging in the engine +room, was right behind Butts. Both of them +raced to reach the struggling pair. Hank +caught Jasper at the waist-line, while Hepton +took a hold at Jasper’s neck, forcing the fellow +back.</p> +<p>Then Tom sailed into the melee with renewed +energy. Jasper was a powerfully-built fellow, +but the three were too many for him. They +tripped Jasper, throwing him to the deck, and +Hepton sat upon his comrade’s chest.</p> +<p>“Halstead! You others! What does this +violence mean?”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton shouted the question sternly. +He had been disturbed by the racket and now +stood amidships.</p> +<p>“Get him over, face down,” panted Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +“We’ll make sure of the fellow before we begin +to explain. Hank, run for a pair of handcuffs!”</p> +<p>Butts was up and off like a shot, wholly liking +the nature of his errand.</p> +<p>“Halstead!” raged Mr. Seaton. “I insist +upon an answer.”</p> +<p>“It’s a case of sea-bullying—that’s what it +is,” growled Jasper. “It’s an outrage.”</p> +<p>“Hepton,” warned the charter-man, “get up +off of Jasper’s chest. Let him go.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you do it,” countermanded Tom Halstead. +“It won’t be safe. This fellow is a snake +in the grass. I caught him at his tricks.”</p> +<p>Hepton had acted undecidedly for a moment. +Now, he concluded to stand by the young captain.</p> +<p>In a trice Hank was back. Now the three assailed +Jasper, rolling him over on his face. Tom +Halstead, himself, fitted the handcuffs.</p> +<p>“Take the wheel, Hank, until I’m through +with this,” panted Tom, leaping up from the +treacherous guard. The locked wheel was now +steering the “Restless” over an erratic course, +but Hank swiftly had the boat on her true course +once more.</p> +<p>“I insist on knowing what this shameful business +means,” cried Mr. Seaton, glaring at his +young skipper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus-02.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 362px; height: 554px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 362px;'> +Tom Halstead Fitted the Handcuffs.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div> +<p>“I should think you might. It’s an outrage!” +shouted Jasper.</p> +<p>“This fellow,” charged young Captain Halstead, +“was in the very act of cutting the aerial +wires with a wire-nipper when I caught him. +Why, I can show you the nippers he had.”</p> +<p>Tom wheeled, to make a quick search along +the deck. Jasper grinned covertly for he had +thrown the nippers overboard in the struggle.</p> +<p>“You see!” flared the prisoner. “He talks +about nippers—but where are they?”</p> +<p>“Halstead,” demanded Mr. Seaton, “do you +intend to obey me by setting this man free until +I’ve had an opportunity to investigate all sides +of this remarkable charge?”</p> +<p>“No, sir, I do not,” rejoined Halstead, quietly +though firmly.</p> +<p>“Do you forget that I command here?” raged +the charter-man.</p> +<p>“Pardon me, but you don’t command,” retorted +Skipper Tom, respectfully. “It is true +that you have this boat under charter, but I am +the captain and one of the owners, and I must +handle trouble aboard in the manner that seems +best. I caught this man in a treacherous attempt +to make our errand this afternoon quite +useless. Jasper stays in irons until we reach +port. I’m sorry to be so stubborn with you, +Mr. Seaton, but, just now, you’ve a queer idea +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +that I’m working against you. I must save +you, sir, even from your own blindness. +Hepton, will you help me take this fellow +aft?”</p> +<p>“Surely,” nodded the guard, who, while he +had not seen the start of the trouble, much preferred +believing Halstead to Jasper.</p> +<p>Seeing that resistance might bring him nothing +but a beating, Jasper sulkily allowed himself to +be led along the deck. Down into the cabin he +was taken, there to be thrust into the starboard +stateroom. Joe, from his wireless table at the +forward end of the cabin, looked up with much +curiosity.</p> +<p>“He was trying to snip the wires in your +aerial,” Halstead explained, after turning the +key in the stateroom door.</p> +<p>“Glad you got him, then,” nodded Dawson.</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton had followed as far as the doorway. +There he halted, well convinced that he +could not, at present, persuade the young skipper +to change his mind.</p> +<p>“Now, if you’ll be good enough to come up to +the bridge deck, Mr. Seaton, I want to explain +matters to you, sir,” proposed the captain of +the “Restless.”</p> +<p>Rather stiffly the charter-man followed. Hepton, +as though to show further good faith, took +pains to remain aft. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></p> +<p>“Do you remember the other night, when we +were coming back with the guard for Lonely +Island,” began Tom, in a low voice, “that we +found one of the new guards leaning well over +the deck-house behind our backs?”</p> +<p>“I do,” nodded Powell Seaton, coldly.</p> +<p>“That man, sir, was Jasper. To-day, when +we are out trying to trace Anson Dalton over +the open sea, I find that same fellow, Jasper, +trying to cut the parallel wires of the aerial. +Why should he do that unless he means to try to +prevent our catching up with Dalton? Now, sir, +putting two and two together, doesn’t it seem +mighty reasonable to suspect that Jasper overheard +what we were saying the other night, and +then watched his chance to steal the papers that +you and I thought were so safely hidden in the +cupboard at the bungalow? I know, Mr. Seaton, +you feel that you have some reason for suspecting +us boys. In view of what happened the +other night, and again this afternoon, isn’t it a +whole lot more sensible to trace your misfortunes +to Jasper?”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, whose daze had continued ever +since starting on this cruise, now pondered +deeply, with knitted brows. At last, however, +he looked up quickly, holding out his right hand, +as he exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Halstead, I begin to believe that I have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +too hasty and suspicious. I have hated myself +for distrusting any of you boys, and yet––”</p> +<p>“And yet,” smiled Tom, “you are beginning +to feel that there is not as much reason for suspecting +us as there is for believing that the +guilt of a mean theft lies at someone else’s +door.”</p> +<p>“I beg you to forgive me, Halstead, you and +your mates. But I hardly know what I am +thinking or saying. My mind is in too deep +a turmoil.”</p> +<p>“We’ll forget it, Mr. Seaton,” continued Halstead, +as he pressed the other’s hand. “<i>I</i> can, +easily, and I hope you’ll do your best to believe +that you can trust us as fully as others +have done.”</p> +<p>“You may just as well come forward, Hepton,” +hailed Captain Tom, a few moments later. +“And I want to thank you for the way you +stood by me when I needed help so badly.”</p> +<p>“Ever since we’ve been at the island I’ve felt +that I didn’t believe any too much in that man +Jasper,” muttered Hepton. “He has been acting +queer some of the time.”</p> +<p>“How?” asked Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“Well, for one thing, he always wanted the +night guard duty. And he growled at taking +the porch or the dock. What he wanted to do +was to roam off about the island by himself. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +Whenever he came back he wanted to sit in +your sitting-room, at the bungalow, and the fellow +scowled if some of the rest of us showed +any liking for staying in that sitting-room.”</p> +<p>“What do you make of that, sir?” asked Captain +Halstead, looking significantly at Powell +Seaton.</p> +<p>“It sets me to thinking hard,” replied that +gentleman, gravely.</p> +<p>Hepton glanced with natural curiosity from +one to the other. Then, finding that he was not +to be enlightened as to what had happened +ashore, he soon stepped aft again.</p> +<p>“Here’s what you want to know, I reckon,” +announced Joe, in a low voice, as his head +bobbed up out of the motor room. In one hand +he held a slip of paper on which he had just +taken down a message. “Twenty miles north +of us is the Langley Line freighter, ‘Fulton.’ +She’s headed this way, and coming at fourteen +knots.”</p> +<p>Skipper Tom received the paper, studying the +position and course as Joe had jotted them +down.</p> +<p>“The Langley boats run to Rio Janeiro, don’t +they?” asked Halstead.</p> +<p>“Yes, and every boat of that line carries a +wireless installation now, too,” Joe continued. +“She’s the only boat that answered my hail.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>“Take the new course, Hank,” called the +young skipper to the boy at the wheel, and rattled +it off. The “Restless” swung around to a +nearly northerly course.</p> +<p>“At her speed, and ours, it needn’t be many +minutes before we sight the ‘Fulton,’” judged +Halstead. “Hank, you keep the wheel. I want +a chance to handle my glasses.”</p> +<p>With the marine binoculars in his hand Skipper +Tom soon began to sweep the horizon.</p> +<p>“There’s what the wireless did for us,” he +chuckled to Mr. Seaton. “Without our electrical +wave we wouldn’t have known, for sure, +that there was a Rio boat in these waters this +afternoon. And, but for getting the ‘Fulton’s’ +position and course by wireless, we’d have swept +by to the eastward, away out of sight of the +freighter.”</p> +<p>Within a few minutes more the young skipper, +by the aid of his glasses, got a glimpse of a +steamship’s masts. A few minutes later the +upper works of her high hull were visible.</p> +<p>“That’s the ‘Fulton.’ I know the Langley +type of freighter build,” Halstead explained, +eagerly. “We’ll soon be close enough to see +her name-plate through the glass. And—oh!—by +Jove!”</p> +<p>Tom waved the glasses with a flourish, pointing, +then handed them to Powell Seaton. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>“Look right over there to the north-westward, +sir, and you’ll make out that drab-hulled +seventy-footer. She’s just coming into sight.”</p> +<p>“I see her,” nodded Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>Captain Halstead took the glasses again, +studying both the seventy-footer and the +freighter intently, judging their relative speeds +and positions.</p> +<p>“Dalton, or his friend, Lemly, has nicely calculated +the drab boat’s run,” declared the young +skipper of the “Restless,” “Dalton’s craft is +in fine position to stop the freighter. But we’ll +reach the ‘Fulton’ first, and by some minutes, +too, sir. The drab boat looks like a good one, +but I believe we’re a shade faster in the +stretch.”</p> +<p>“What are we going to do when we overhaul +both craft?” wondered Powell Seaton, aloud.</p> +<p>“Why, sir, it will be easy enough to make the +‘Fulton’s’ captain refuse to take any such passenger +as Dalton.”</p> +<p>“How?” demanded Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“Just inform the ‘Fulton’s’ captain that +Anson Dalton is a fugitive from justice. If you +do that, the freighter’s captain isn’t going to +take any chances on getting into subsequent +trouble with Uncle Sam. The captain will +simply decline to receive him as a passenger on +the high seas.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></p> +<p>Powell Seaton looked very cheerful for a +moment. Then a look of dark doubt crossed +his face.</p> +<p>“That will be all right, Halstead, unless it +happens that the captain of the ‘Fulton’ is a +man on the inside of some official affairs down +in Brazil. If that be so, then your freighter’s +captain may recognize Dalton as a man of consequence—one +to be served at all hazards. For, +if a steamship captain of the Langley line must +be careful to stand well with the United States +authorities, he must also be no less careful to +keep in the good graces of some of the cliques +of Brazilian officers. So what if Dalton goes +aboard the freighter, and her captain sends us +a derisive toot of his whistle?”</p> +<p>Tom Halstead’s face showed his instant uneasiness.</p> +<p>“If that turns out to be the case, sir,” he +whispered, “you’ve lost your last chance to stop +Anson Dalton. He goes to Brazil with all the +papers for locating the diamond mine, and you +and your syndicate friends lose the whole big +game!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_THE_SEARCHLIGHT_FINDS_A_DOUBLE' id='CHAPTER_XII_THE_SEARCHLIGHT_FINDS_A_DOUBLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE SEARCHLIGHT FINDS A “DOUBLE”</h3> +</div> +<p>Yet, though his confidence in success had +received a severe jolt, Captain Tom +reached out for the megaphone.</p> +<p>“Run in straight and close, Hank,” he ordered. +“I want every possible second of conversation +before that drab boat gets within talking +distance of the ‘Fulton.’”</p> +<p>The “Restless” and the freighter were now +within a mile of each other, and almost head-on. +The drab boat, about two miles away, had +altered its course so as to pick up the freighter +at a more southerly point.</p> +<p>“Run to your table, Joe,” commanded the +young skipper, “and notify the ‘Fulton’ that +we are going to hail her for a brief pow-wow.”</p> +<p>The speed with which young Dawson worked +was shown by the fact that, when still half a +mile away, the big freighter, hailed by wireless, +began to slow down speed. It was plain +that she was going to lie to in order to hear the +whole of the hail from the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“Great Scott, though! Look at that!” suddenly +ejaculated Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>The drab seventy-footer had suddenly gone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +about, making fast westerly time for the +shore.</p> +<p>“Go about after the seventy-footer, Hank,” +almost exploded Halstead, in the intensity of +his excitement over this new move. “Dalton +doesn’t seem to want to try the freighter now. +Follow Dalton back to shore.”</p> +<p>“But the ‘Fulton’s’ slowing down. You’re +going to show him the politeness of telling the +freighter’s captain what it was all about, ain’t +you?”</p> +<p>“Let Joe do it,” replied Tom, tersely. +“What’s the wireless for?”</p> +<p>Just at this moment Joe Dawson appeared +from below.</p> +<p>“Our apologies to the freighter, Joe,” called +Skipper Tom. “Tell him we’re after the drab +boat. Tell him that our game is to stop a fugitive +from getting out of the United States.”</p> +<p>Joe again appeared just as the freighter began +to make full headway once more.</p> +<p>“Captain Carson sends you his compliments +from the ‘Fulton,’ Tom, for chasing the fugitive +off.”</p> +<p>“And now, we’re going to chase that fugitive +in,” uttered Halstead, grimly. “By George! +Look at the way that drab boat is beginning to +travel. Joe, we can’t let her lose us in this +fashion.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p> +<p>As the “Fulton” passed out hull down, and +then finally vanished on the southern horizon, +the chase after the drab seventy-footer became +lively and exciting.</p> +<p>“Can you make out Dalton aboard of her?” +asked Powell Seaton, as Tom stood forward, +leaning against the edge of the forward deck-house, +the marine glass as fast to his eyes as +though glued there.</p> +<p>“No, sir. If Dalton is aboard, he’s keeping +out of sight in the cabin.”</p> +<p>“Did you see, when the drab boat was more +head-on, whether Lemly was at the wheel?”</p> +<p>“The man at the wheel wasn’t Lemly, sir, +though I believe that fellow is on board as the +actual captain,” Halstead answered.</p> +<p>“Humph! Is the Drab going to get away +from us?” questioned Hank, wonderingly. +“My, look at her bow cut water!”</p> +<p>“She’s a faster boat than I thought,” Tom +responded. “But we don’t mean to let her get +away. Joe, how are we going on speed?”</p> +<p>“I couldn’t get another revolution out of the +twin shafts without overheating everything,” +Dawson replied, seriously. “Honestly, Tom, if +this speed doesn’t suit, I’m afraid we’ll have to +make the best of it.”</p> +<p>“Then don’t lose a single inch by bad steering, +Hank,” Halstead directed, looking around +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +at his helmsman. “Whenever you want relief, +let me know.”</p> +<p>For five miles the drab seventy-footer kept +her lead, though she did not seem able to increase +it. That craft was still heading shoreward, +and now the low, long, hazy line of the +coast was in sight, becoming every minute more +plain.</p> +<p>“They’re going to head straight for the +shore, unless they’ve some slicker trick hidden +up their sleeves,” declared Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>“I wonder that they’re running so hard from +us,” mused Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>“Most likely, sir,” responded the young skipper, +“because Dalton and Lemly believe we +have officers aboard. Of course they know—or +suspect—that warrants are out charging +them with stealing the ‘Restless’ the other +night.”</p> +<p>“Suppose Dalton and Lemly are not aboard +that boat?” challenged Mr. Seaton, suddenly.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead’s lower jaw sagged for just an +instant.</p> +<p>“Of course, there’s that chance. We may +have been fooled, and we may be chasing a straw +man in a paper boat right at this minute, sir. +Yet, if Dalton were out on the water, with his +stolen papers, he’d want to get nowhere else but +to Brazil. If he isn’t on the water, then he’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +not trying this route to your Brazilian enemies, +and we might as well be out here as on Lonely +Island.”</p> +<p>As the boat in the lead neared the coast Halstead +again kept the marine glass to his eyes.</p> +<p>“There’s a little river over yonder,” he observed.</p> +<p>“Yes; I know the stream. Hardly more than +a creek,” replied Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“Any deep water there, sir?”</p> +<p>“For only a very little way in. Then the +stream moves over a pebbly bottom like a running +brook.”</p> +<p>“Then it looks, sir, as though Lemly—if he’s +aboard—plans to run in there and hustle +ashore.”</p> +<p>“Or else stay and fight,” hinted Powell Seaton. +“The place is lonely enough for a fight, if +the rascals dare try it.”</p> +<p>“Hepton!” summoned Halstead, a few moments +later. “Don’t you think you’d better get +up your rifle? You don’t need to show it, but +someone may send us a shot or two from the +drab boat.”</p> +<p>Hepton sprang below, bringing up both rifles. +Crouching behind the forward deck-house, he +examined the magazines of both weapons.</p> +<p>“We’re carrying load enough for a squad o’ +infantry,” laughed Hepton, showing his strong, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +white teeth. “Let those fellers on the Drab try +it, if they want to see what we’ve got.”</p> +<p>The seventy-footer was shutting off speed +now, going slowly into the mouth of the little +river. Almost immediately afterwards her reverse +was applied, after which she swung at +anchor.</p> +<p>Tom, too, without a word to Hank, who stood +by the wheel, reached over, slowing the “Restless” +down to a gait of something like eight +miles an hour.</p> +<p>“What’s the order, sir?” he asked, turning +to Mr. Seaton. “Are we to go in and anchor +alongside?”</p> +<p>“I—I don’t want to run you young men into +any too dangerous places,” began Powell Seaton, +hesitatingly. “I—I––”</p> +<p>“Danger’s one of the things we’re paid for,” +clicked Tom Halstead, softly. “It’ll all in the +charter. Do you want to go in alongside?”</p> +<p>“I—I––”</p> +<p>Bang!</p> +<p>The shot came so unexpectedly that the motor +boat boys jumped despite themselves. Hepton +cocked one of the rifles, and was about to +rise with it, when the young skipper of the +“Restless” prodded the man gently with one +foot.</p> +<p>“Don’t show your guns, Hepton,” murmured +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +Tom. “Wait until we find out what that shot +was meant for.”</p> +<p>No one now appeared on board the drab +seventy-footer. There had been no smoke, no +whistle of a bullet by the heads of those on the +bridge deck of the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“That was intended only to make us nervous,” +grinned Captain Tom.</p> +<p>“Or else to show us that they have fire-arms,” +suggested Seaton.</p> +<p>“Well, sir, I’m headed to go in alongside, +unless you give me other orders,” hinted the +young skipper.</p> +<p>“Cover about half the rest of the distance, +then reverse and lie to,” decided Powell Seaton. +He now had the extra pair of marine glasses, +and was attentively studying both the boat and +the shore nearby.</p> +<p>Tom took the wheel himself, stopping where +he had been directed. So neatly was headway +corrected that the “Restless” barely drifted +on the smooth water inshore.</p> +<p>There was now remaining less than an hour +of daylight.</p> +<p>“I think I understand their plan, if Dalton +is on board,” whispered Mr. Seaton to his +young captain. “Dalton is waiting until it is +dark enough to slip ashore.”</p> +<p>“Hm! There’s one way you <i>could</i> stop that, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +if you want to take all the risk,” ventured Halstead, +grinning thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“Well, if it’s the plan of anyone aboard the +drab boat to slip on shore under cover of darkness, +then I could put our tender overboard and +row Hepton to one bank of the river with his +rifle. Returning, I could row you to the other +shore, you to carry the other rifle.”</p> +<p>“That would be a bold and open move,” +agreed Mr. Seaton, gasping at first, then looking +thoughtful. “But look at that shore, Halstead. +See the thick trees on either bank of the +river. Hepton and I couldn’t watch a lot of +stretch on both banks.”</p> +<p>“With our help from the boat you could, sir.”</p> +<p>“Again, how?”</p> +<p>“Why, it’s shallow enough to drop anchor +right here, Mr. Seaton. Then, as soon as it +grows the least bit dark, we boys could keep +our searchlight turned on the drab boat so that +you and Hepton could see every movement on +her decks. From a quarter of a mile off you +could see anyone swimming ashore and run to +stop him. There’s no difficulty about it, sir, +except the risk.”</p> +<p>“Hepton, I must talk that over with you,” +cried Powell Seaton. “I don’t feel that I have +any right to run you into too certain danger.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p> +<p>But Hepton smiled again in a way to show his +white teeth.</p> +<p>“Don’t worry ’bout me, Mr. Seaton. I feel +big ’nough to take care of myself, and I enlisted +for the whole game, anyway.”</p> +<p>“You could keep watch right from this deck,” +Halstead added. “But then, if anyone slipped +ashore from the Drab, you couldn’t get on shore +fast enough to follow through the woods. You’d +lose the trail right after the start.”</p> +<p>“Even if I were on shore, and Dalton walked +right by me, what could I do?” pondered Powell +Seaton. “Of course, I know the sheriff of the +county would take him, for going aboard this +boat and breaking it loose from the dock the +other night. A United States marshal might +arrest Dalton, on my request, for piracy in +sailing away with the boat. But would I have +a right to seize Dalton and hold him—even if +able?”</p> +<p>“You can follow him until you <i>do</i> run Dalton +into one of the law’s officers,” proposed +Halstead.</p> +<p>“I believe I’m going ashore, anyway, to see +what happens,” announced Mr. Seaton, after +giving the matter a little more thought.</p> +<p>“But let me go ashore, first, on the other +bank,” begged Hepton. “Then you can take +second chance, sir.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>“Very good, then,” agreed the charter-man.</p> +<p>With the aid of his mates, Captain Tom had +the anchor overboard, and the small tender +alongside in a jiffy. Hepton stepped down into +the smaller craft, carrying his rifle so that it +could be seen. Tom himself took the oars to +row.</p> +<p>“I’d better put you in on the bank to the +left,” whispered Halstead, and Hepton nodded.</p> +<p>They passed within forty yards of the stern +of the drab boat, yet not a single human being +appeared on that mysterious craft.</p> +<p>Having put Hepton on shore, Halstead rowed +back for Mr. Seaton. Embarking this second +passenger, Tom, this time, rowed a little closer +to the seventy-footer lying at anchor in the +river’s mouth. Now, the head of a man unknown +to either of them showed aft.</p> +<p>“Where you-all goin’ with so many guns?” +this man asked, in a half-jeering tone.</p> +<p>“Night hunting,” retorted Tom, dryly, not +feeling guilty of a lie since he was certain the +other would not believe him.</p> +<p>Landing Mr. Seaton on the other river bank, +the young captain of the “Restless” returned +to his craft.</p> +<p>By now it was nearly dark.</p> +<p>“We may as well see how the searchlight is +working,” Joe Dawson suggested. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span></p> +<p>“Turn it on them, and sweep it around,” responded +Halstead.</p> +<p>The strong glare of light was found to be +working satisfactorily. Dark came on quickly, +still without any more signs of life aboard the +Drab than had already been observed.</p> +<p>“Supper time, surely,” announced Hank, in +a glum voice.</p> +<p>“Don’t bother about that to-night,” objected +the young skipper. “Slip down into the galley +and make sandwiches enough for all hands. +We can eat and watch—<i>must</i>, in fact, if we eat +at all.”</p> +<p>After the sandwiches had been made and disposed +of the Motor Boat Club boys began to find +the swinging of the light on the drab boat, on +the water and on either river bank, to be growing +rather monotonous.</p> +<p>“I wish something would happen,” grumbled +Hank.</p> +<p>“Now, don’t start a fuss about that,” yawned +Joe. “Something is likely enough to start up +at any second.”</p> +<p>“It has started,” whispered Tom Halstead, +swinging the searchlight, just then, across the +Drab’s hull. “Look there!”</p> +<p>Two much-muffled figures, looking nearly +identical, and each of the pair carrying a bag, +appeared on deck amidships, one standing on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +each side of the deck-house. Then, as quickly, +by their sides stood two other men who sprang +to lower the two small boats that hung at +davits. One muffled man and one helper embarked +in each boat, the helper in each case +rowing swiftly to either bank of the river.</p> +<p>“That’s a queer game, but a clever one,” +muttered Captain Tom, swinging the glaring +searchlight and watching.</p> +<p>“It’ll mix up Mr. Seaton and Hepton all +right,” grimaced Joe Dawson. “Each will +wonder whether <i>he</i> has Dalton on his side of +the river, to follow.”</p> +<p>Now, as quickly, the two boat-tenders rowed +back to the Drab, and the boats were triced up +in a twinkling.</p> +<p>“Say, they’ve got their anchor up!” cried +Hank Butts, in a breathless undertone. +“They’re going to scoot out on us.”</p> +<p>“Then I’m ready to bet,” muttered Tom Halstead, +“that neither of the muffled men that went +ashore was Anson Dalton. They must be trying +to throw our crowd off the trail, and now +that seventy-footer is trying to get off with +Dalton still aboard!”</p> +<p>Whatever the plan was, the Drab was now +backing out of the river mouth and swinging +around. So far none of her sailing lights were +in evidence. She looked more like a pirate craft +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +slinking out into the night on an errand of dire +mischief.</p> +<p>Once out of the mouth of the river, the Drab +swung around, then began to move ahead. By +this time her prow was head-on for the “Restless,” +as though aimed to strike the latter craft +amidships.</p> +<p>Then, as the Drab’s speed increased, Tom +Halstead vented excitedly:</p> +<p>“Jupiter! They’re out to cut us in two while +we ride here at anchor!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_TOM_HALSTEADREADY' id='CHAPTER_XIII_TOM_HALSTEADREADY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>TOM HALSTEAD—READY!</h3> +</div> +<p>There was no time to raise the anchor. +Even had this been possible, it would +have been out of the question to get the +motors started and running in time to get out +of the Drab’s way.</p> +<p>Captain Tom Halstead was taken wholly by +surprise, yet he was not caught with his wits +asleep.</p> +<p>“Make a dive for those sticks, fellows!” he +shouted, bounding for the motor room hatchway. +“If we get a chance we’ll give ’em at +least a pat for a blow!”</p> +<p>The sticks of firewood that they had used on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +the night of their long swim were in the motor +room. Tom caught up his, wheeling to bound +outside again. Joe Dawson was barely a step +behind him.</p> +<p>But Hank—he went as though by instinct for +the hitching weight that had already made him +famous in the annals of the Motor Boat Club.</p> +<p>Swift as they were, the trio were back on +deck just in time to witness the final manœuvre +of the seventy-footer. That craft, not moving +very fast, suddenly veered in its course.</p> +<p>Instead of cutting through the “Restless,” +the larger motor boat swung suddenly so as to +come up alongside, rail to rail. And now the +whole intention was manifest at a glance, for +the figures of six men, with their caps pulled +well down over their eyes, appeared at the +Drab’s rail.</p> +<p>“All hands to repel boarders!” sang out Captain +Tom Halstead, his voice ringing defiantly. +“Show ’em the best you can!”</p> +<p>Joe swung, with a single-stick trick he had +learned and practiced. It was a feint, aimed at +the first of the Drab’s crew to try to leap +aboard. The intended victim threw up his +hands to ward off the blow from the top of his +head, but he received, instead, a stinging, crushing +slap across the face.</p> +<p>Tom thrust one end of his stick for the face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +of another of the boarding strangers. The fellow +strove to protect his face, and would have +guarded easily enough, but, instead, the other +end of Tom’s bludgeon struck him in the pit of +his stomach, depriving him of all his wind.</p> +<p>“Woof!” grunted Hank, at the first sign of +onslaught.</p> +<p>In both hands he clutched that business-like, +though not formidable looking, hitching weight. +One man set his foot on deck. Hank, almost +with deliberation, dropped the weight on the +toes of that foot.</p> +<p>There was a yell of pain. Snatching up the +weight instantly, Hank let it fly forward and +fall across the toes of another of the boarders.</p> +<p>Two of the strangers were limping now. Another +was nursing an injured face, from Joe’s +heavy blow. Captain Tom’s victim had fallen +back aboard his home craft, gasping for breath.</p> +<p>The other two of the invaders got aboard the +“Restless”—then wished they hadn’t, for Hank +pursued one of them with his terrifying hitching +weight, while Tom and Joe divided the sole remaining +enemy between them.</p> +<p>Hardly had the affair begun when it ended; +it was all over in an instant. The two who had +escaped injury leaped back aboard the Drab. +Those who needed assistance were helped back. +The Drab drifted away, her vagrant course +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +unheeded at first, for it looked as though all aboard +had taken part in that disastrous boarding enterprise.</p> +<p>Tom and Hank sprang for their own anchor, +while Joe, as soon as he saw the big motor boats +drift apart, dropped into the small boat of the +“Restless” and rowed swiftly for shore. +Hardly had he touched the beach when +Powell Seaton, rifle in hand, bounded forth +from cover.</p> +<p>“Put across, and see if we can get Hepton, +too,” directed the charter-man, in a low voice. +“I stepped right up out of the bushes, almost +into the face of the fellow who landed on my +side of the river. It was neither Dalton nor +Lemly. As soon as the fellow saw me he +laughed, put a chew of tobacco in his mouth, +and went on.”</p> +<p>Hardly had Seaton finished speaking when +Joe Dawson shot the bow of the little boat +against the further bank. During this time Mr. +Seaton had kept his eyes on the drab boat, +holding his rifle in readiness in case another +effort should be made to ram or board the +“Restless.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you-u-u-u!” called Joe, hailing. There +was a sound in the woods, and then Hepton +came into sight.</p> +<p>“Did you see the man who landed on your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +side?” whispered Powell Seaton, as Hepton +reached the beach.</p> +<p>“Yes; he was just an ordinary roustabout +chap,” grunted Hepton, disgustedly. “I had +no orders to follow <i>him</i>, so I didn’t take the +trouble.”</p> +<p>“That’s right. Jump in and we’ll get aboard +the ‘Restless.’”</p> +<p>Hank had the motors working long before Joe +returned with his two passengers, and was +standing by. Captain Tom was at the wheel, but +keeping the searchlight inquisitively on the +Drab.</p> +<p>Now, the seventy-footer began to move off +slowly down the coast, going at a speed of perhaps +six miles an hour. Halstead, without waiting +for orders, went in chase, keeping his place +two hundred yards behind the other craft. All +the while he kept the searchlight swinging over +the Drab, from her port to starboard sides.</p> +<p>“That must annoy those fellows,” observed +Powell Seaton, with a chuckle, as he stood by +the young skipper.</p> +<p>“I reckon it does,” returned Tom, dryly. +“But it also prevents their letting anyone off +the boat without our seeing it. You see, sir, +they’re only about a quarter of a mile off the +coast here. Their small boat could make a +quick dash for the shore. Even a good swimmer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +could go overboard. I don’t intend to let +anyone get off that seventy-footer without our +knowing all about it.”</p> +<p>Halstead had not been silent long when he +saw a bright flash from the Drab, aft. It was +followed, almost immediately, by the sound of +a gun. Then a bullet went by about two feet +over their heads.</p> +<p>“That was meant for our searchlight,” +laughed Tom Halstead, coolly. “Those fellows +want to put it out of business.”</p> +<p>With an ugly cry Hepton leaned over the +edge of the forward deck-house, sighting.</p> +<p>“Don’t do that,” called Captain Tom, sharply. +Then he added: “I beg your pardon, Mr. Seaton, +but I don’t believe you want any shooting to +come from us unless it’s necessary.”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t,” replied the charter-man, +thoughtfully. “Dalton and Lemly seem willing +to take desperate chances, acting like pirates, +in fact. But we don’t want to kill anyone, and, +above all, we want to be very sure we have the +law on our side.”</p> +<p>“They fired our way,” urged Hepton, rather +stubbornly. “We have a right to defend ourselves.”</p> +<p>“But they sent only one shot,” replied Seaton. +“They might afterwards claim that it was an +accidental discharge. Unless they make it very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +plain that they’re playing the part of pirates, +we’d better take the best of care not to put ourselves +wrong before the law.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right, sir,” admitted Hepton. +“But, while I’m willing to take any chances +that go with my job, it doesn’t seem just fair +to ask me to be exposed to bullets from that +other boat without the right to answer their +fire.”</p> +<p>“You can get down before the forward deck-house, +Hepton,” nodded Halstead, pleasantly. +“You can’t be hit through the deck-house.”</p> +<p>“But you can be hit, fine,” objected Hepton.</p> +<p>“Like Mr. Seaton,” answered the young skipper, +“I’d rather take the chance than do anything +to put us in the wrong.”</p> +<p>Grumbling a bit, though under his breath, +Hepton seated himself where the forward deck-house +would protect him. Joe remained leaning +nonchalantly over the edge of the house.</p> +<p>“I wonder if they <i>will</i> dare to keep up a fusillade?” +he presently said, watching the deck of +the drab boat in the glare of light that Halstead +now held steadily on it.</p> +<p>“If they fire another shot at us,” replied +Powell Seaton, “then Hepton and I will crouch +over the forward deck-house, rifles ready, and +fire at the flash of the third shot. We’ll keep +within the law, but we won’t stand for any determined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +piracy that we have the power to +resist.”</p> +<p>“Take the wheel, Hank,” called Tom, presently. +Then the young skipper signed to his +employer that he wanted to speak with him +aft.</p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton,” began Tom, “I want to ask +you a few questions, with a view to making a +suggestion that may be worth while.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead, Halstead.”</p> +<p>“You trust me now, fully? Have you gotten +wholly over your suspicions of early this afternoon?”</p> +<p>“Halstead,” replied the charter-man, in a +tone uneasy with emotion, “I’m wholly ashamed +of anything that I may have said or thought. +You’ve shown me, since, how perfectly brave +you are. I don’t believe a young man with your +cool, resolute grit, and your clear head, <i>could</i> +be anything but absolutely honest.”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” acknowledged the young motor +boat captain. “Now, Mr. Seaton, though the +two sets of papers describing and locating your +diamond field are out of your hands, don’t you +remember the contents of the papers well enough +to sit down at a desk and duplicate them?”</p> +<p>“Yes; surely,” nodded Mr. Seaton, slowly.</p> +<p>“You feel certain that you can seat yourself +and write out a set of papers that would tell a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +man down in Brazil just how to locate the diamond +field?”</p> +<p>“I can, Halstead. It would be a matter of +some hours of writing, that’s all. But why are +you asking this? What plan have you in your +mind?”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ve got a hunch, sir,” replied Tom +Halstead, quietly, “that you’re never going to +see the lost papers again. If Anson Dalton +found you getting close to him, and knew you +could seize the papers, he’d destroy them. It +seems to me that our sole game must be to prevent +his ever getting those papers to Brazil +ahead of a second set that you can just as well +write to-night.”</p> +<p>“If we trail him all the time,” replied Powell +Seaton, thoughtfully, “we can know whether +the fellow succeeds in getting away on a ship to +Brazil. He can’t go on that drab boat ahead, +can he?”</p> +<p>“The seventy-footer would be quite good +enough a boat to make the voyage to Brazil,” +Halstead answered. “So would the ‘Restless,’ +for that matter. The only trouble would be that +neither boat could carry anywhere near enough +gasoline for such a voyage.”</p> +<p>“Then Anson Dalton, if he gets away to +Brazil, will have to board some regular +liner or freighter? Well, as long as we keep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +him in sight, we’ll know whether he’s doing +that.”</p> +<p>“But Dalton will get desperate,” Tom +warned his employer. “While holding onto the +papers he has succeeded in obtaining, he can +make a copy, and he may very likely determine +to send the copies to your old enemy, Terrero, +by mail. Now, Mr. Seaton, it seems to me that +your best hope is to duplicate the missing papers +at once, and, if you can’t find in haste a messenger +you’ll trust, then you had better send +the papers by registered mail to your friends +in Rio Janeiro.”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton stared at the young skipper, +going deathly pale.</p> +<p>“Captain Halstead, don’t you understand +that the possession of such a set of papers, at +Rio Janeiro, would mean that the possessor +could locate and file a patent to the diamond +field, of which no one, save myself, at present +knows the exact location? Why, even if the +postal authorities do their very best to put the +papers in the proper hands, anyone like a dishonest +clerk might get the papers in his hands. +The temptation would be powerful for anyone +who had the papers to locate the mine at once +for himself.”</p> +<p>“I understand, fully,” agreed Captain Tom. +“But the whole thing has become a desperate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +case, now, and some desperate chances must be +taken if you’re to have a good chance to win +out against Terrero and his crooked friends.”</p> +<p>“Then you—you—honestly believe I’d better +make out another set of papers and mail them to +my friends of the syndicate, at Rio Janeiro?” +faltered Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“Yes; unless you prefer to be almost certain +of losing your fight for the great fortune. +For Dalton, of course, knows that you can send +a set of the papers by mail. He’ll feel like taking +the same desperate chance in order to have +a better chance of getting in ahead of you.”</p> +<p>“By mail—even registered mail?” groaned +Mr. Seaton. “It seems an awful—desperate +chance to take. Yet––”</p> +<p>“Prepare a duplicate set of the papers,” +proposed Tom Halstead, “and, if you’ll trust +me, I’ll board the first Rio-bound steamer that +we meet, and go through for you. I’ll give you +every guarantee that’s possible to find your +people in Rio and turn the papers over to +them.”</p> +<p>“Will you?” demanded Seaton, peering +eagerly into his young skipper’s eyes.</p> +<p>“Then you’ll trust me to go as your messenger +to Rio?”</p> +<p>“Yes, in a minute, Halstead! Yet I’m thinking +of the great danger you’d be running. At +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +this moment Terrero’s spies must be plentiful in +Rio Janeiro. Why, even every steamer that +leaves New York for Brazil may carry his men +aboard, alert, watchful and deadly. You don’t +know what a man like Terrero is like. The +constant danger to you––”</p> +<p>“Constant danger,” laughed Tom Halstead, +softly, “is something that most men learn +readily to face. Otherwise, wars would be impossible.”</p> +<p>“But that is very different,” retorted Powell +Seaton, quickly. “In war men have the constant +elbow-touch, the presence and support of +comrades. But you would be alone—one +against hundreds, perhaps, at the very instant +when you set foot ashore in Brazil.”</p> +<p>“I’ll take the chance, if you let me,” declared +Captain Tom. “But, now, sir, you’re +losing time. Why don’t you go below, get writing +materials, and start in earnest to get out the +duplicate papers?”</p> +<p>“I will,” nodded the charter-man. “Should +I change my mind, it will be easy enough to +burn the sheets after I have written them.”</p> +<p>As Powell Seaton turned to go down into the +cabin Joe Dawson called sharply:</p> +<p>“Tom, something’s up ahead! Come here, +quickly!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_GRIT_GOES_UP_THE_SIGNAL_MAST' id='CHAPTER_XIV_GRIT_GOES_UP_THE_SIGNAL_MAST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>GRIT GOES UP THE SIGNAL MAST</h3> +</div> +<p>Even before Captain Tom turned he heard +the sudden throb of the twin screws of +the propellers, and felt the speed being +reversed. That told him, instantly, that Joe had +found some reason for stopping the “Restless” +in a hurry.</p> +<p>As the young commander bounded forward +the steady ray of his own searchlight showed +him that the seventy-footer had also stopped +her headway.</p> +<p>Hank was still at the wheel, but young Dawson +was beside him on the bridge deck.</p> +<p>“There they go—dropping their anchor overboard,” +cried Joe, pointing. “The water’s shallow +along this coast, of course.”</p> +<p>“We’ll move right in, between that boat and +the shore, and drop anchor, too,” decided Captain +Halstead, taking the wheel and reaching +for the engine control. He sent the “Restless” +slowly forward into place, then shut off headway, +ordering:</p> +<p>“Joe, you and Hank get our anchor over. +Dalton can’t get anything or anybody ashore, +now, without our knowing it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span></p> +<p>“But what can his plan be, anchoring on an +open coast?” demanded young Dawson, as he +came back from heaving the anchor.</p> +<p>“Our job is just to wait and see,” laughed +Captain Halstead.</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton came on deck again, to learn what +this sudden stopping of the boat meant.</p> +<p>“It’s some trick, and all we can do is to +watch it, sir,” reported the young skipper of +the “Restless,” pointing to the anchored Drab. +“Yet I think the whole situation, sir, points to +the necessity for your taking my recent advice +and acting on it without the loss of an hour.”</p> +<p>“Either the registered mail, or yourself +as a special messenger,” whispered Seaton, +hoarsely, in the boy’s ear. “Yes, yes! I’ll fly +at the work.”</p> +<p>“Don’t hurry back below, though,” advised +Halstead. “Stroll along, as though you were +going below for a nap. A night glass on the +seventy-footer is undoubtedly watching all our +movements.”</p> +<p>As the two boats swung idly at anchor, on that +smooth sea, their bows lay some three hundred +yards apart. The night air was so still, and +voices carried so far, that those on the deck of +the “Restless” were obliged to speak very +quietly.</p> +<p>Over on the seventy-footer but one human +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +being showed himself to the watchers on the +smaller boat. This solitary individual paced +the drab boat’s bridge deck, puffing at a short-stemmed +pipe.</p> +<p>“I’d give a lot to be smart enough to guess +what their game is,” whispered Joe, curiously.</p> +<p>“It’s a puzzle,” sighed Captain Tom Halstead. +“It looks, now, as though Dalton and +Lemly are trying to hold us here while someone +else does something on shore.”</p> +<p>“Then you think the two who landed on +either bank of the river––”</p> +<p>“We know that neither of them was Dalton +or Lemly, but I’m beginning to suspect that one, +or both, of those fellows carried messages, +somewhere and of some nature. In that case, +we’re letting our curiosity hold us up here while +the enemy are accomplishing something at some +other point.”</p> +<p>“Confound ’em!” growled Joe, prodding the +bulwarks with his toe. “They’re clever rascals!”</p> +<p>“Meanwhile,” whispered Tom, “I’ve just +been thinking of something else that we ought +to be doing.”</p> +<p>“What?”</p> +<p>“There may be another steamship for Rio Janeiro +passing somewhere in these waters at +any time. We ought to send out a call on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +wireless at least once an hour. There’s something +else in the wind, old fellow, and we <i>do</i> +want to know when the first steam vessel for +Rio passes through these waters.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll go below and get at work at the +sending key,” proposed Dawson. “Send out +the wireless call once an hour, you say?”</p> +<p>“Yes; yet we don’t want to forget that we’re +being watched all the time from that old drab +pirate yonder. Don’t let the enemy see you +going to the cabin.”</p> +<p>“I’ll drop down into the motor room and use +the passageway through.”</p> +<p>Dawson was gone ten minutes. When he returned +he shook his head, then stood looking +out over the sea. Excepting the “Restless” +and the drab seventy-footer there was no craft +in sight. Not so much as a lighthouse shed its +beams over the ocean at this point of the coast.</p> +<p>“Say, it’s weird, isn’t it?” muttered Joe +Dawson. “We can’t see a thing but ourselves, +yet down in the cabin I’ve just been chatting +with the Savannah boat, the New Orleans boat, +two Boston fruit steamers, the southbound +Havana liner and a British warship. Look out +there. Where are they? Yet all are within +reach of my electric wave!”</p> +<p>“There are no longer any pathless roads of +the sea—not since the wireless came in,” declared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +Tom Halstead. “If there were enough +vessels to relay us we could talk direct with +London now. The next thing will be a telephone +in every stateroom, with a wireless central on +the saloon deck or the spar deck. But gracious! +We’ve been forgetting all about our poor +prisoner in the starboard stateroom. He must +have a royal case of hunger by now. Tell Hank +to take him in some food and to feed the poor +fellow, since he can’t use his own hands.”</p> +<p>Later time began to drag by. There were +few signs of life aboard the seventy-footer. +Sending Joe and Hepton down to the motor +room berths as watch below, Tom kept Hank +on deck with him. Bye-and-bye Joe and Hepton +took their trick on deck, while Halstead and +Hank Butts went below for some sleep. +Through most of the night Powell Seaton remained +hard at work over his writing, often +pausing to read and make some corrections.</p> +<p>Morning found the two boats still at anchor. +With sunrise came a stiffer wind that rocked +the “Restless” a good deal.</p> +<p>“Now, look out for one of the sudden September +gales,” warned Captain Tom Halstead, +as, after the second short sleep of the night, +he came up on deck, yawning and stretching. +He stepped over to read the barometer, then +turned quickly to Joe. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p> +<p>“Looks like something’s going to happen, +doesn’t it?” queried Dawson.</p> +<p>“Yes; there’s a disturbance heading this +way,” admitted Tom, looking around at the +sky. “Yet it may be hours, or a day, off yet. +If we were going under canvas, though, I’d +shorten it.”</p> +<p>“The captain of the Drab evidently believes +in being prepared,” hinted Joe, nodding in the +direction of the other craft. Two men were now +visible on the deck of the seventy-footer. They +were taking up anchor, though not doing it with +either speed or stealth.</p> +<p>“I reckon we have to take our sailing +orders from them,” nodded the young skipper. +“You’d better get the motors on the mote, Joe. +I’ll have Hank and Hepton help me up with +our anchor.”</p> +<p>Soon afterwards the Drab was heading north +at a ten-mile gait; half a minute later the “Restless” +started in leisurely pursuit.</p> +<p>After half an hour or so the Drab headed into +another open roadstead, anchoring a quarter of +a mile from shore. Tom dropped anchor some +three hundred yards to the southward.</p> +<p>“Keep your eye seaward, Hank,” directed +the young skipper. “Joe, if you’ll see whether +Mr. Seaton wants anything, Hepton and I will +keep a keen eye on the shore.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>“Mr. Seaton is asleep in the port stateroom,” +Dawson reported back a moment later. “I’ve +made eight calls through the night, but I’ll get +at the sending key again, and see whether there’s +anything in our line within hail.”</p> +<p>Hardly had Joe Dawson vanished below when +Skipper Tom uttered a sudden exclamation. A +sharp, bright glint of light from under the trees +on shore caught his watchful eye.</p> +<p>“Look there!” the young captain called, +pointing to the flash.</p> +<p>“There’s another,” muttered Hank Butts, +pointing further up the coast.</p> +<p>“By Jimminy, there’s a third,” cried Hepton, +pointing.</p> +<p>“Signals for the Dalton-Lemly crew,” uttered +Tom, disgustedly. “<i>They</i> are getting +news, now, and of a kind we can’t read. Hank! +Call Mr. Seaton. <i>He</i> ought to be on deck, watching +this.”</p> +<p>The charter-man was speedily up into the +open.</p> +<p>In the meantime Joe, at the powerful sending +apparatus below, sent the spark leaping across +the spark-gap, and, dashing up the aerials, there +shot into space the electric waves intended to be +gathered in by any other wireless operator +within fifty or sixty miles.</p> +<p>Crash-sh! Ass-ss-ssh! hissed the spark, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +bounding, leaping to its work like a thing of +almost animal life.</p> +<p>Bang! This last note that came on the air +was sharp, clear, though not loud. Whew-ew! +A bullet uttered a swift sigh as it sped past the +signaling mast twenty feet over the heads of +the watchers of the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“Confound it! Rascals on shore are shooting +at us,” exclaimed Powell Seaton, turning swiftly +to peer at the forest-clad shore line.</p> +<p>“No; they’re shooting at our aerials!” retorted +Captain Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>Bang! Whe-ew-ew! Clash! Then there was +a metallic clash, for the second rifle shot from +the land had scored a fair bull’s-eye among the +clustered aerial wires. There was a rattle, and +some of the severed wire ends hung down.</p> +<p>With an ugly grunt, Hepton bounded down +into the motor room, passing up the two rifles.</p> +<p>“We must be careful, though,” warned Mr. +Seaton. “This time they’re not shooting at +us.”</p> +<p>“Load and be ready, though!” uttered Captain +Tom, dryly. “They soon will be shooting +at us.”</p> +<p>Several more shots clattered out, and two +more of the bullets did further damage among +the aerial wires. Then Joe came dancing up on +deck, his eyes full of ire. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></p> +<p>“The infernal scoundrels have put our spark +out of business,” he cried, disgustedly. “We +haven’t wire enough left to send five miles. +Where do the shots come from?”</p> +<p>“From the shore,” Halstead replied, “but see +for yourself if you can locate the marksmen. +We can’t. They’re using smokeless powder, +and are hidden so far in under the trees that +we can’t even make out the flashes.”</p> +<p>“It’s out of my line to locate them,” announced +Joe Dawson, with vigor. “It’s mine to +see that the aerials are put on a working basis +again.”</p> +<p>He vanished, briefly, into the motor room, +soon reappearing with a coil of wire and miscellaneous +tools.</p> +<p>“Good!” commended Halstead, joyously. +“Mr. Seaton, we have wire enough to repair a +dozen smashes, if need be. On up with you, +Joe. I’m at your heels.”</p> +<p>Joe started to climb the mast, using the +slightly projecting footholds placed there for +that purpose. Tom let him get a clear lead, +then started up after his chum.</p> +<p>From the shore broke out a rapid, intermittent +volley. Steel-clad bullets sang a song full +of menace about that signal mast.</p> +<p>“Come down, boys! You’ll be killed!” +roared Mr. Seaton, looking up apprehensively. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p> +<p>While Joe kept on climbing, in silence, Skipper +Tom looked down with a cool grin.</p> +<p>“Killed?” he repeated. “Well, if we’re not, +we’ll fix the aerials. We can’t allow strangers +to put us out of business!”</p> +<p>Joe found his place to go to work. Tom +halted, with his head on a level with his chum’s +knees. From the shore there came another +burst of rifle-fire, and the air about them was +sternly melodious with the pest-laden hum of +bullets. Two of the missiles glancingly struck +wires just above Dawson’s head.</p> +<p>In the lull that followed Joe’s voice was +heard:</p> +<p>“Hold the wire, Tom. Pass me the pliers.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_PLAYING_SALT_WATER_BLIND_MANS_BUFF' id='CHAPTER_XV_PLAYING_SALT_WATER_BLIND_MANS_BUFF'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>PLAYING SALT WATER BLIND MAN’S BUFF</h3> +</div> +<p>“I’ve got to do something!” growled Hepton, +his teeth tightly shut.</p> +<p>Raising his rifle to his shoulder, making +his guess by sound, the man let two shots +drive at the shore, not far back from the beach’s +edge. Then, after a pause and a long look, he +let three more shots drive, slightly changing his +sighting each time.</p> +<p>“Come on, Mr. Seaton,” he urged. “They’re +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +firing on your skipper and engineer this time. +It’s up to us to answer ’em—clear case of self-preservation. +The first <i>law</i> that was ever invented!”</p> +<p>Bang! bang! rang Seaton’s rifle, twice. He, +too, fired for the forest, near the beach. It +was like the man to hope he had hit no +one, but he was determined to stop if possible +this direct attack on Tom Halstead and Joe +Dawson.</p> +<p>Evidently the first sign of resistance was not +to stop the bothering tactics of those on shore, +for one wire that Joe was handling was zipped +out of his hands.</p> +<p>“They mean business, the enemy,” called +down Skipper Tom, softly, to the tune of a low +laugh. “But we’ll get rigged, in spite of them. +All we ask for is that they let us get the wire +fixed often enough for a few minutes of sending +and receiving once an hour.”</p> +<p>Hepton and his employer continued to fire, +using a good deal of ammunition. The guard +was much more vengeful in his firing and in his +attempts to locate the hidden marksmen than +was Seaton.</p> +<p>“That’s what those two men went ashore for +last night,” called down Halstead, quietly. +“First of all, to fool us and get us guessing, +and, next, to hunt up some of their own rascals +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +for this work. The seventy-footer led us into +this trap on purpose. Finely done, wasn’t it?”</p> +<p>“It shows,” retorted Mr. Seaton, wrathily, +“that along this sparsely settled shore there is +a numerous gang organized for some law-breaking +purpose.”</p> +<p>“Smuggling, most likely,” guessed Tom. +“And it must pay unusually well, too, for +them to have such a big and so well-armed a +crew.”</p> +<p>Three more shots sounded from the shore. +All of the trio of bullets went uncomfortably +close to the young skipper and engineer, though +doing no actual damage. Hepton, with his ear +trained to catch the direction of the discharge +sounds, changed his guess, firing in a new direction.</p> +<p>“There, it’s done, until it’s put out of business +again,” muttered Joe, finally. “Slide, +Tom.”</p> +<p>Almost immediately after Dawson disappeared +the crash of the spark across the spark-gap +and up the wires was heard. The young +wireless operator of the “Restless” was making +the most of any time that might be left to +him.</p> +<p>“How about that storm that threatened last +night, captain?” inquired Mr. Seaton. “Has it +come any nearer?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus-03.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 360px; height: 554px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 360px;'> +“There, It’s Done,” Muttered Joe. “Slide, Tom.”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></div> +<p>“No, sir,” replied the motor boat captain, +shaking his head. “It acted the way many September +storms do on this coast. It passed by us, +out to sea, and ought to be down by Havana by +now. The barometer has been rising, and is at +nearly the usual pressure. But I don’t like the +looks of the sky over there”—pointing.</p> +<p>“Why not?” queried the charter-man, following +the gesture with his eyes.</p> +<p>“We’ll be playing in great luck, sir,” answered +the young captain, “if a fog doesn’t roll +in where the storm threatened to come.”</p> +<p>“Fog?” Mr. Seaton’s tone had an aghast +ring to it.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure, Captain?”</p> +<p>“No, sir. It’s only a possibility, but a good +one.”</p> +<p>Hepton was making his rifle bark again, deep, +snappy and angry in its throat, in answer to a +challenge from shore, but Powell Seaton stood +surveying the weather with a look of deepest +concern.</p> +<p>Then he turned to regard the drab seventy-footer +at anchor near by.</p> +<p>“It would be the enemy’s real chance, +wouldn’t it?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“Just what I dread, sir,” Captain Tom admitted. +“Let us be wrapped in a thick bank of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +fog, and the Drab would be out of our vision +and hearing in a very short time.”</p> +<p>“Shades of hard luck!” groaned the charter-man, +growing pallid.</p> +<p>Off on the seaward horizon an indefinite haze +was soon observable. To the untrained eye it +didn’t look like much. Though Mr. Seaton +spoke of it, he didn’t appear much concerned.</p> +<p>“It’ll be a pity to bother him until the time +comes when he throbs with worry,” thought +Captain Tom Halstead, sympathetically. “But +if that low-hanging haze doesn’t spell +t-r-o-u-b-l-e, then I’ve been raised among a different +breed of sea fogs!”</p> +<p>The crashing of sparks over the spark-gap +had ceased for the present, and Joe, reporting +that there was no wireless craft within reach of +his limited aerials, was on deck once more, +waiting until the time should come around for +another trial.</p> +<p>Hank had gone below to start the motors, connecting +them with the dynamo, to renew the +supply of electrical “juice” in the storage batteries, +which was running low, as proved by +the last message sent.</p> +<p>The chug-chug of the twin motors was heard +over on the seventy-footer, and soon an unknown +man, his cap pulled well down over his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +eyes, appeared at the stern of the Drab. He +took a long, keen look at the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“He’s wondering if we’re going to hoist the +mud-hook,” smiled Tom.</p> +<p>“And hoping that we are,” grinned Joe. +“Oh, but we must be an eyesore to those wistful +scoundrels!”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton now spent most of his time +gazing at the line of haze, which, by degrees, +was growing bigger and coming nearer.</p> +<p>“Captain Halstead,” he faltered, “I’m beginning +to feel certain that you’re a prophet.”</p> +<p>“Or a Jonah?” laughed Tom, though it was +not a very cheerful sort of laugh.</p> +<p>“No, no, no!” cried the charter-man, earnestly. +“Never that! The little luck that I’ve +had in these trying days has all come through +you youngsters. Without you I’d have been flat +on my back in the fearful game that I’m playing +with such desperate hopefulness against hope. +But I see our fog is coming in as a sure thing. +If it envelops us, what can you do with regard +to that drab-tinted sea-monster over +yonder?”</p> +<p>“It depends upon the depth and duration of +the fog, sir,” Halstead answered. “We have +our motors going. At the first strong sign of +our getting hemmed in by it we’ll lift our mud-hook +[the anchor] and move in closer. If the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +fog isn’t too thick we may be able to take up a +position where we can at least observe her +dimly. If she starts to pull out into a fog-bank, +we’ll follow at her heels, keeping as close as +necessary to keep the Drab’s stern flag-pole in +sight. We won’t lose her if there’s any way of +stopping it.”</p> +<p>The advance guard of the fog was in upon +them by the time that Joe went once more to +his sending table in the forward end of the +cabin. The light mist extended to the shore, +though it did not altogether screen it. But +the lookout on the Drab’s deck appeared +wholly watchful at the weather side of the +craft.</p> +<p>“Not in touch with any other wireless boat +yet,” reported Dawson, coming on deck, presently.</p> +<p>“Look at that heavier white curtain rolling +in,” uttered Powell Seaton, in a tone near to +anguish.</p> +<p>Whoever was in the drab boat’s pilot house +took occasion to toot derisively twice on the +auto whistle.</p> +<p>“That’s as much as warning us that their turn +is coming,” declared Mr. Seaton, wrathfully.</p> +<p>Their faces were wet, now, with the fog as it +rolled in. Slowly the nearby shore faded, +wrapped in the mist. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p> +<p>“We’d better get up anchor,” decided Skipper +Tom. “Come along, Hank, and you, Hepton.”</p> +<p>As the anchor came up and was stowed, Captain +Halstead moved the deck speed control +ever so little. The “Restless” began to barely +move through the water. They overhauled the +seventy-footer, passing within a hundred feet of +her starboard rail. Yet only the same deck +watch appeared in sight. He favored those on +the bridge deck of the “Restless” with a tantalizing +grin.</p> +<p>Halstead slowly circled the drab seventy-footer, +Mr. Seaton keeping ever a watchful eye +on the stranger.</p> +<p>“There! They’re hoisting anchor!” muttered +the charter-man, at last.</p> +<p>“I saw ’em start,” nodded the young skipper. +“And the fog is growing thicker every +minute.”</p> +<p>“How are you going to beat them, if they try +hard to get away?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” confessed Halstead, honestly. +“We may keep ’em in trail, but the +chances are all in favor of the drab boat.”</p> +<p>Presently the seventy-footer slipped slowly +away from her anchorage. Halstead promptly +closed in, keeping not more than a hundred feet +behind her drab stern. If the fog grew no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +heavier, and the enemy’s speed no greater, he +could maintain his position.</p> +<p>But the sea-born fog continued to come, looking +as though it arrived in ever-increasing billows.</p> +<p>Once the seventy-footer’s stern vanished for +a moment or two. Tom, cautiously increasing +the speed, soon came in sight of that drab stern +once more.</p> +<p>“I don’t want to croak, sir,” warned the +young motor boat skipper, “but, luck aside, it +looks as though we’re about done for in this +salt water blindman’s buff.”</p> +<p>“I realize it,” nodded Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>Just then the seventy-footer crawled ahead +again into the fog, and was lost to the pursuer. +Throwing the wheel somewhat to port, Captain +Halstead tried to come up on the Drab’s quarter. +A full minute’s anxious suspense followed, but +the enemy’s stern did not show through the +white shroud of the atmosphere.</p> +<p>Then Halstead threw off the power without +applying the reverse. The “Restless” drifted +under what was left of her headway.</p> +<p>“They’ve done it,” uttered Tom Halstead, +grimly. “They’ve given us the slip—gotten +away in this white mass of mystery!”</p> +<p>Shaking, Powell Seaton leaned against the +deck-house, his face pallid with sheer misery.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_A_GLEAM_OF_HOPE_THROUGH_THE_SHROUD_OF_FOG' id='CHAPTER_XVI_A_GLEAM_OF_HOPE_THROUGH_THE_SHROUD_OF_FOG'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>A GLEAM OF HOPE THROUGH THE SHROUD OF FOG</h3> +</div> +<p>Resting one hand lightly on the top +spokes of the wheel, young Halstead +turned to his employer with a look of +keenest sympathy.</p> +<p>“Is there any order you wish to give now, +Mr. Seaton?”</p> +<p>“What order can I give,” demanded the +charter-man, with a piteous smile, “unless it be +to say, ‘find the drab boat’?”</p> +<p>Tom made a grimace.</p> +<p>“Of course I know how senseless that order +would be,” pursued Seaton, with a nervous +twitching of his lips. In fact, at this moment +it filled one with pity, just to witness the too-plain +signs of his inward torment and misery.</p> +<p>There was a pause, broken, after a few moments, +by the charter-man saying, as he made +a palpable effort to pull himself together:</p> +<p>“Halstead, you’ve shown so much sense all +along that I leave it to you to do whatever you +deem best.”</p> +<p>Skipper Tom’s brow cleared at once. A look +of purpose flashed into his eyes.</p> +<p>“Then we’ll keep eastward out to sea, sir, or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +a little bit to the northeast, until we get out in +the usual path of the southbound steamers.”</p> +<p>“And after that?” demanded Powell Seaton, +eagerly.</p> +<p>“All we can do, sir, then, will be to wait until +we get a wireless communication with other +vessels.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead, lad.”</p> +<p>Tom moved the speed control slowly, until +the “Restless” went loafing along at a speed of +six miles an hour. Heading weatherward, he +gave more heed to the wheel, for there were +signs that the water was going to roughen somewhat.</p> +<p>“Hank!” called the young skipper, and Butts +came to the bridge deck.</p> +<p>“Sound the fog-whistle every minute,” directed +Halstead.</p> +<p>“Too-whoo-oo-oo!” sounded the melancholy, +penetrating note through the mist.</p> +<p>“Are you going to keep that up, Captain +Halstead?” inquired Mr. Seaton, in instant apprehension.</p> +<p>“Got to, sir. It’s the law of the ocean in a +deep fog.”</p> +<p>“But it signals our location to the enemy on +the drab boat.”</p> +<p>“If it keeps the seventy-footer within sound +of our horn all the time,” laughed Halstead, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +“so much the better. Then the Drab will be +within range of our marine glasses when the +fog lifts.”</p> +<p>“It shows those rascals the direction of our +course, too,” cried Seaton, in a still troubled +voice.</p> +<p>“We’ve got to observe the law, sir, even if +<i>they</i> do break it,” Tom gently urged. “That +other boat’s people have been acting like pirates +all along, but that would be no excuse for us. +What if we cut into a lumber-laden schooner, +and sank her at once?”</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton was obliged to nod his assent.</p> +<p>“It’s a fearfully tough piece of luck for us, +this fog,” Tom continued, feelingly, “but we’ve +got to make the most of it.”</p> +<p>“And, if Anson Dalton gets aboard any +Brazil-bound steamer while we’re in this fog, +the whole great game for myself and my friends +is lost,” faltered Seaton.</p> +<p>“If that steamer has a wireless installation,” +retorted the young motor boat skipper, “then +we’ve every chance in the world to reach her +before the Drab possibly can. Joe will hear +her wireless two hours or more before the other +fellows can hear or locate a fog-horn.”</p> +<p>“It’s—it’s a dreadful uncertainty that this +fog puts upon us,” groaned the unhappy +charter-man. “Dalton may take advantage of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +this white shroud to run straight for the nearest +post office and mail the papers that he stole.”</p> +<p>Captain Tom’s mildly warning look checked +Mr. Seaton ere he had time to say more in the +hearing of Hepton.</p> +<p>“If you’ll come aft, sir, we’ll talk this over,” +suggested Halstead, in a low voice.</p> +<p>“Gladly,” murmured the charter-man.</p> +<p>“Now, then, sir,” almost whispered the motor +boat skipper, as he and his employer stood on +the deck aft, “you’ve written out a duplicate of +the papers that were stolen.”</p> +<p>“I have the duplicate set in an inside pocket,” +responded Seaton, tapping his coat.</p> +<p>“Are you ready to chance the mailing of +them?”</p> +<p>“It’s—it’s a fearful risk, a terrible one, even +to think of sending such priceless papers by +registered mail.”</p> +<p>“At least, sir,” urged Tom, “you would be +sure the documents were properly started on +their way.”</p> +<p>“Yet with no surety that they wouldn’t fall +into wrong hands at the other end,” shuddered +Seaton.</p> +<p>“Then, since your life would undoubtedly be +the forfeit if you attempted to take the papers +yourself, will you trust me, or Joe, to board the +first steamer we pick up by wireless?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p> +<p>“Wh—what do you advise, Halstead?” +queried Seaton, with the air and tone of a man +tortured by uncertainty and hesitation.</p> +<p>“I advise, sir, your making a very definite +move of one kind or another, without the loss +of another hour,” rejoined young Halstead, almost +sharply. “Simply drifting in a fog won’t +settle anything.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know that only too well,” replied +Powell Seaton, desperately.</p> +<p>“Let us,” proposed Skipper Tom, “take a +northerly course. We’ll try to pick up a Rio-bound +steamship. Failing in that, let us put in +for land, you to send the papers off by registered +mail—or I’ll take train for New York and +go by the first boat.”</p> +<p>“I—I’ll do it,” agreed Powell Seaton, falteringly. +“Halstead, my boy, I’ve pondered and +worried over this until my brain almost refuses +to act. I’m glad to have your clearer brain to +steady me—to guide me.”</p> +<p>“Are your papers sealed?” asked Captain +Tom, after a little further thought.</p> +<p>“No; but I can soon attend to that.”</p> +<p>“I’d go below and do it, then, sir.”</p> +<p>“Thank you; I will.”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, as he started down the after +companionway, trembled so that compassionate +Halstead aided him. Then, returning, the Motor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +Boat Club boy stepped steadily forward to the +bridge deck.</p> +<p>Studying the time, Tom determined to keep +to the present course for fifteen minutes more, +and at the same speed, then to head about +due north. This, he figured, would keep him +about in the path of southmoving coast steamships.</p> +<p>Hank, who was still at the wheel, took the +orders. Joe, after a glance at the bridge deck +chronometer, dropped below on his way to his +sending table. The crash of his call soon +sounded at the spark-gap and quivered on its +lightning way up the aerials.</p> +<p>“Nothing happening in my line,” announced +Dawson, soberly, when, some minutes later, he +returned to deck.</p> +<p>Captain Tom stood by, almost idly attending +to the fog-horn, though Butts would have been +able to do that as well as steer.</p> +<p>“Did you get anything at all?” Halstead inquired.</p> +<p>“Nothing; not a click by way of answer,” +Joe Dawson responded. “I had half a hope +that I might be able to pick up a ship that could +relay back to another, and so on to New York. +If that had happened, I was going to ask the +companies direct, in New York, when their next +boats would leave port. I’ll do that, if I get a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +chance. I’m bound to know when to look for +the next Rio boat.”</p> +<p>“If this fog seems likely to last,” resumed +Halstead, “I’ve been thinking about increasing +to ten miles and keeping right on toward New +York.”</p> +<p>“Bully!” enthused Dawson. “Fine!”</p> +<p>“Yes; so I thought at first, but I have changed +my mind. If we get wholly out of these waters +we might put a messenger aboard a steamship +bound for Rio Janeiro, and then Dalton, by +hanging about in these waters, might find a +chance to board. If he suspected our messenger—and +it may be you or I—it might be the same +old Clodis incident all over again.”</p> +<p>Joe’s face lengthened.</p> +<p>“It’s growing wearing, to hang about here all +the time,” he complained. “I’m near to having +operator’s cramp, as it is.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you dare!” Skipper Tom warned him.</p> +<p>“Well, then, I won’t,” agreed Dawson.</p> +<p>For four hours more the “Restless” continued +nearly due north, at the same original +speed of six miles an hour. Halstead began to +think of putting back, slowly retracing his +course. Joe went down for his regular hourly +“sit” at the sending table.</p> +<p>“Hurrah!” yelled Dawson, emerging from +the motor room several minutes later. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>He was waving a paper and appeared highly +excited.</p> +<p>“Picked up anything?” called Tom Halstead, +eagerly.</p> +<p>“Yes, sirree!” uttered Joe, delightedly, +thrusting a paper into his chum’s hand. “The +Jepson freight liner, ‘Glide,’ is making an +extra trip out of schedule. Here’s her position, +course and gait. We ought to be up to her +within two and a half hours.”</p> +<p>Tom himself took the news to Powell Seaton. +That gentleman, on hearing the word, leaped +from the lower berth in the port stateroom.</p> +<p>“Glorious!” he cried, his eyes gleaming +feverishly as he hustled into an overcoat.</p> +<p>Then he whispered, in a lower voice:</p> +<p>“Tom Halstead, you’re—you’re—It!”</p> +<p>“Eh?” demanded the young motor boat skipper.</p> +<p>“You’ll take the papers on to Rio!”</p> +<p>A gleam lit up Halstead’s eyes. Yet, in another +instant he felt a sense of downright regret. +He was not afraid of any dangers that the trip +might involve, but he hated the thought of being +weeks away from this staunch, trim little craft +of which he was captain and half-owner.</p> +<p>“All right, sir,” he replied, though without +enthusiasm. “I’ll undertake it—I’ll go to Rio +for you.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_WHEN_THE_MOTOR_BOAT_CLUB_BOYS_WENT_DAFFY' id='CHAPTER_XVII_WHEN_THE_MOTOR_BOAT_CLUB_BOYS_WENT_DAFFY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>WHEN THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB BOYS “WENT DAFFY”</h3> +</div> +<p>All this had been spoken in whispers. +Both Mr. Seaton and Tom Halstead +were keenly aware of the presence of the +prisoner in the starboard stateroom.</p> +<p>“You don’t seem as overjoyed as I thought +you might be,” observed Powell Seaton, in a +tone of disappointment.</p> +<p>“I’m going through for you, sir, and I’ll deliver +the papers into the proper hands, if I live,” +replied Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>“And you’re not afraid of the big chances of +danger that you may be running?” persisted +his employer.</p> +<p>“Why, I believe every human being has times +when he’s afraid,” Skipper Tom replied, honestly. +“But I shan’t be any more afraid than +you’ve seen me once or twice since this cruise +began.”</p> +<p>“Then I’ll bet on your success,” rejoined Mr. +Seaton, holding out his hand, which the young +motor boat captain grasped.</p> +<p>“Suppose we go on deck where we can talk +a little more safely, sir,” whispered Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>They made their way above and forward.</p> +<p>“Any further word, Dawson?” inquired the +charter-man.</p> +<p>“I haven’t signaled since I brought up that +last message,” Joe replied.</p> +<p>“Oh, of course not,” retorted Powell Seaton. +“It was an idiotic question for me to ask, but +I’m so excited, boys, that I don’t pretend to +know altogether what I’m talking about.”</p> +<p>Captain Halstead bent forward to look at the +compass. He found Hank Butts steering as +straight as the needle itself pointed.</p> +<p>“What on earth can I do to pass the time of +waiting?” wondered Mr. Seaton, feverishly.</p> +<p>“Eat,” laughed Tom. “You haven’t had a +meal since I don’t know when. Give me the +wheel, Hank, and see what you can fix up for +Mr. Seaton in the way of food.”</p> +<p>Yet, poking along at that slow rate of speed, +cutting through the fog but not able to see a +boat’s length ahead, proved an ordeal that tested +the patience of all.</p> +<p>After awhile Joe returned to the sending +table, in order to get in touch with the “Glide” +and make sure that the two vessels were still +approaching each other head-on.</p> +<p>“It’s wonderful—wonderful, this wireless +telegraph that keeps all the great ships and +many of the small ones in constant communication,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +declared Powell Seaton, coming up +on deck after having finished his meal. +“Yet it seems odd, doesn’t it, to think of +even freight boats carrying a wireless installation?”</p> +<p>“Not when you stop to consider the value of +the freight steamships, and the value of their +cargoes,” rejoined Tom Halstead. “If a ship +at sea gets into any trouble, where in older +times she would have been lost, now all she +has to do is to signal to other vessels within +two or three hundred miles, and relief is sent on +its way to the ship that needs it. In the case +of a freight steamer the wireless aboard means +greater safety for the crew and often saves the +owners the cost of ship and cargo. The Standard +Oil people were among the first to think of +the wireless for cargo-carrying boats. They installed +the wireless on their tank steamers, and +it wasn’t long before the owners of other freight +vessels realized the value of such an installation. +Now, every freight boat that amounts to +much has the wireless aboard.”</p> +<p>“You speak of the wireless being used at a +distance of two or three hundred miles,” pursued +the charter-man. “Dawson can’t send the +electric wave that far, can he?”</p> +<p>“No, sir; because our signal mast is shorter +than that on a big steamship. The length of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +our aerials is less. Still, we can handle a message +for a pretty good distance.”</p> +<p>“What distance, Halstead?”</p> +<p>“Why, our ideal distance is about sixty miles; +we can make it seventy easily, and, under the +best conditions, we can drive a message, so that +it can be understood, for about ninety miles. +But that doesn’t really hold us down to even +ninety miles. If there’s a wireless ship within +our radius we can ask her to relay for us. With +a few ships spread out at proper intervals we +could easily wire direct from the ‘Restless’ to +the coast of England.”</p> +<p>“Joe,” called Tom to his chum as the latter +came on deck between wireless performances, +“do you notice that the fog is lightening off to +weatherward?”</p> +<p>“Yes; the fog is heaviest off to westward, +and we’ve been working out of that.”</p> +<p>“By the time we reach the ‘Glide’ I believe +we’re going to have some open weather around +us.”</p> +<p>“It will be fine if we do,” nodded young Dawson. +“It’s nasty work going up alongside of a +big ship when you can’t see fifty feet away.”</p> +<p>As they watched and waited, while the “Restless” +stole slowly along, the fog about them became +steadily lighter, though off to the westward +it remained a thick, dense bank. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p> +<p>“Say, it’d be great to have four or five miles +of clear sea around us, so that we could see +whether the seventy-foot boat has kept to anything +like our course,” declared Hank.</p> +<p>At last the “Restless” came to within twenty +minutes’ hailing distance of the “Glide,” as the +young motor boat skipper figured it. Then, a +few minutes later, a deep-toned fog-horn came +to them faintly. As the minutes passed, now, +this blast became heavier and nearer.</p> +<p>“I’ve only a few minutes left with you, Joe, +old chum,” declared Captain Tom, with a half-sigh. +“You’ll take great, good care of the dear +old craft, I know, while I’m gone.”</p> +<p>“As soon as Mr. Seaton is done with the boat +I’ll tie her up until you get back—that’s what +I’ll do,” grunted Dawson. “No sailing without +a skipper for me.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t look so bad about it, Cap,” +grinned Hepton. “I wish it was me, cut out +for a long trip to Rio and back. Maybe I +wouldn’t jump at such a chance. Some folks +are born lucky!”</p> +<p>Too-woo-oo!</p> +<p>The oncoming steamship’s deep fog-horn +sounded loud and sullen, now. Tom Halstead, +still at the wheel, was peering constantly forward +for the first glimpse of the freighter, for +the fog had lightened much by this time. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span></p> +<p>“There she is!” hailed keen-eyed Joe, on the +lookout for this sight. “You can just make out +her bow poking up through the fog. She must +be a thousand feet off yet.”</p> +<p>With two boats approaching each other, this +distance was, of course, quickly covered. Finding +that he could see the other craft at such a +distance, Skipper Tom threw on a little more +speed, making a wide turn and so coming up +alongside on a parallel course.</p> +<p>“Take the wheel, Hank,” directed the young +skipper, seizing the megaphone and stepping to +the port rail.</p> +<p>“‘Glide,’ ahoy!” bawled Halstead through +the megaphone.</p> +<p>“‘Restless,’ ahoy!” came back from the +freighter’s bridge.</p> +<p>“Lie to and let us come alongside, won’t you? +We want to put a passenger aboard.”</p> +<p>“Passenger? Where for?”</p> +<p>“Rio, of course. That’s where you’re bound, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“You’ll have to be mighty quick about it,” +came the emphatic answer. “We can’t afford +stops on our way.”</p> +<p>“We may want to delay you a few minutes,” +began Tom.</p> +<p>“Few minutes, nothing!” came the gruff retort. +“We can’t be held up in that fashion.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></p> +<p>“We can pay for all the trouble we put +you to,” retorted Halstead. Powell Seaton +produced and waved a bulky wad of banknotes.</p> +<p>“Oh, if you want to pay extra, above the fare, +it’ll be a little different,” came, in mollified +tones, from the bridge. The captain of the +“Glide” was now much more accommodating. +The fare received from a passenger put aboard +in mid-sea would go to the owners of the +freighter. But any extra money, paid for +“trouble,” would be so much in the pocket of +the “Glide’s” sailing-master.</p> +<p>Several new faces appeared at the rail of the +freighter, as that big craft slowed down and +one of her mates superintended the work of +lowering the side gangway.</p> +<p>“Hullo, lobster-smack!” roared one derisive +voice above the freighter’s rail.</p> +<p>“Say,” called another voice, jeeringly, “it +may be all right to go lobster-fishing, but it’s no +sort of good business to leave one of your catch +of lobsters in command of even a smack like +that!”</p> +<p>Tom Halstead reddened angrily. One of his +fists clenched unconsciously as he shot a wrathful +look upward at the rail.</p> +<p>“Say, you mentally-dented pilot of a fourth-rate +peanut roaster of a boat, do you go by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +craft you know without ever giving a hail?” +demanded a mocking voice, that of the first derisive +speaker.</p> +<p>Standing at the rail of the “Restless,” Tom +Halstead almost dropped the megaphone overboard +from the sheer stagger of joy that caught +him.</p> +<p>“Hey, you Ab! You worthless Ab Perkins!” +roared the young motor boat skipper, in huge +delight. “And you, Dick Davis!”</p> +<p>The two who stood at the “Glide’s” rail +overhead, and who had called down so mockingly, +stood in uniform caps and coats identical +with those worn by Halstead and his mates +aboard the motor boat. They wore them with +right, too, for Perkins and Davis were two of +the most famous of the many youngsters who +now composed the Motor Boat Club of the +Kennebec.</p> +<p>“Hey! What’s this?” roared the usually +quiet Joe Dawson, his face wreathed in smiles. +He almost danced a jig.</p> +<p>Hank Butts had never before seen either +Davis or Perkins, but he knew about them, all +right. He knew that uniform, too, the same that +he wore.</p> +<p>“Now, then—altogether!” yelled Hank. +“Give it with a roar, boys!”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton stared in bewildered amazement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +So did officers, crew and others at the +“Glide’s” rail and on her bridge.</p> +<p>For five lusty young Americans, all wearing +the same uniform, all bronzed deeply with the +tan that comes of the gale and the sun, all keen-eyed, +quick and sure as tars ever are, roared in +mighty chorus:</p> +<p>“M-B-C-K! M-B-C-K! Motor Boat Club! +WOW!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_FIRST_KINK_OF_THE_PROBLEM_SOLVED' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_FIRST_KINK_OF_THE_PROBLEM_SOLVED'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>THE FIRST KINK OF THE PROBLEM SOLVED</h3> +</div> +<p>Again the roaring chorus rang out.</p> +<p>“What’s this? College boys’ joke on +me, or a floating mad-house?” huskily +roared down the freighter’s captain from the +bridge.</p> +<p>“It’s all right, captain,” sang back Tom Halstead. +“We’ll make it plain to you as soon as +we get a chance. We’re neither as bad nor as +dangerous as we seem.”</p> +<p>The “Glide’s” headway had all but ceased +by this time, and the side gangway was at last +in place. The “Restless” was run in close, +while Hank stood up on the top of the forward +deck-house with a coil of line, waiting until it +came time to leap across onto the platform of +the freighter’s gangway and make the line fast. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></p> +<p>As quickly as the line was secured Captain +Tom Halstead followed Butts, and dashed on +past him up the steps of the gangway. Ab and +Dick came down to meet him, each grabbing one +of the young skipper’s hands and wringing it.</p> +<p>Then they turned to give the same greeting +to Joe Dawson, who gasped:</p> +<p>“Gracious, but it <i>does</i> seem good to meet fellows +of the Club and from the old home town +at that!”</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton, though following in more leisurely +fashion, now passed them, going on up +to the deck. There he met Captain Rawley.</p> +<p>“Don’t mind what my young men do, captain,” +begged the charter-man, “and don’t +mind if they delay you for a few minutes. I’ll +make good the damage.”</p> +<p>“Help yourself to a little of my time, then, +sir,” grimaced the freighter’s captain. “Anything +that I can spare from the proper time of +the run, you understand.”</p> +<p>“How on earth do you fellows happen to be +on this ship, of all places in the world?” demanded +Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>“Easy enough to explain,” laughed Dick +Davis. “Port authorities at Rio were good +enough to order six motor boats for harbor purposes. +My dad got the chance of building the +boats at his yard at Bath. The Rio motor boats +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +are on board, down in the hold, and Ab and I +are sent along to deliver the motor boats, put +them in running order at Rio, and, if necessary, +teach the natives how to run such craft.”</p> +<p>“Did you fellows know we were signaling +you by wireless?” Joe was asking Ab Perkins. +“Did you know that you were going to see us?”</p> +<p>“Didn’t know a blessed thing about it,” admitted +Ab Perkins, almost sheepishly. “Dick +and I were asleep in our stateroom. We were +getting ready to come out on deck when we +felt the old tub slackening speed. Then we +came out to see what was happening. We +looked over the rail, and—<i>wow</i>!”</p> +<p>Ab again seized Joe Dawson’s hand, giving it +another mighty shake. Then the irrepressible +Ab reached out for Tom’s hand, but Dick Davis +was drawing Halstead up on deck.</p> +<p>Readers of the first volume of this series will +remember both Ab and Dick well. They, too, +were boys born near the Kennebec River, and +took part in the stirring adventures narrated in +<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motor Boat Club of The Kennebec</span>, just +before Tom and Joe left for the next scenes of +their activities, as related in <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motor Boat +Club at Nantucket</span> and <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motor Boat Club +off Long Island</span>. Ab Perkins and Dick Davis +were two of the most valued of the early members +of the Club. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p> +<p>All in a twinkling, Tom Halstead was seized +by an idea. He looked about for Powell Seaton, +saw that gentleman talking with Captain Rawley, +and caught the charter-man’s eye.</p> +<p>“See here, Mr. Seaton,” whispered Halstead, +as soon as he had gotten his employer aside, +“there’s no great need for me to go to Rio.”</p> +<p>“No?”</p> +<p>“Of course not. Give the papers to Dick +Davis, with exact instructions as to who is to +receive them at Rio Janeiro, and those papers +will get into exactly the hands for which you +intend them.”</p> +<p>“You feel certain of that, Halstead?” demanded +Powell Seaton, his voice tremulous with +anxiety.</p> +<p>“Absolutely sure, sir. Dick Davis can be +trusted as long the world holds together. There +isn’t the faintest yellow streak in him, either. +Square, straight, keen, brave—that’s Dick +Davis. And Ab Perkins would go through the +jaws of anything with Davis! Why, Mr. Seaton, +they’re Motor Boat Club boys! You can +trust them to the same degree as you’re willing +to trust me. Moreover, they’re going down to +Rio on a mission to the Government. They’ve +got a better chance to get ashore, unmolested +and unwatched, than any other stranger would +have.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“Get your friends together, then, somewhere +where we can have a private corner,” begged +Powell Seaton. “We’ll talk this matter over—we’ve +got to talk like lightning, at that.”</p> +<p>While Mr. Seaton sought Captain Rawley, +Tom shot back along the deck to where Joe, +Hank and the two Rio-bound members of the +Motor Boat Club stood talking.</p> +<p>“Hank,” said Tom, in a low voice, “Hepton +is all alone down on the ‘Restless,’ except for +our prisoner aft. Hepton may be all right, and +I think he is—but one of our own crowd ought +to be on board our boat.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be the one, then,” half-sighed Hank +Butts, turning to descend the side gangway.</p> +<p>Captain Rawley promptly agreed to turn his +own cabin over to the friends who wanted a +private chat.</p> +<p>“But only for five minutes, mind you,” he +insisted. “Then I must be on my way.”</p> +<p>Behind the closed door of the captain’s room +Powell Seaton and Tom Halstead swiftly explained +what was wanted.</p> +<p>“Will we do it?” said Dick Davis, repeating +the question that had been asked him. “Why, +of course we will. There’s only one answer +possible. Tom Halstead is fleet captain of the +Motor Boat Club, and a request from Captain +Tom is the same thing as an order.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“You will go straight to the American consulate +at Rio Janeiro, then,” directed Mr. Seaton. +“From the consulate you will send a messenger +to bring to you Shipley D. Jarvis, whose +address is the American Club. The American +consul will be able to assure you that it is Shipley +D. Jarvis who comes to you. You will turn +over these papers to Mr. Jarvis in the presence +of the American consul. A letter from me is +in the envelope with the papers. That is all, +except––”</p> +<p>After a brief pause Mr. Seaton went on to +caution Dick Davis and Ab Perkins as to the +dangers against which they must guard on the +way. This Tom Halstead supplemented with an +exact description of Anson Dalton and of Captain +Dave Lemly, of the now seized “Black +Betty.”</p> +<p>“Either, or both, of the rascals may board +this ship a little further along,” cautioned Mr. +Seaton. “Night and day you must be on your +guard against them.”</p> +<p>Then Tom Halstead quickly outlined to Davis +a system of apparently common-place wireless +messages by means of which Davis might be +able to keep Mr. Seaton informed of the state +of affairs, for some days to come, on board the +“Glide.”</p> +<p>Some further last instructions were added. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +Powell Seaton wound up by forcing a few banknotes +into the hands of both these unexpected +messengers.</p> +<p>“Wait until we’ve succeeded,” proposed Dick +Davis.</p> +<p>“This is for expense money, for sending +wireless messages, and other things,” replied +Mr. Seaton. “Your real reward will come later +on.”</p> +<p>“When we’ve succeeded,” nodded Davis.</p> +<p>So much time had been taken up by this talk +that now all had to step out on deck.</p> +<p>“We’re ready to go aboard our boat, sir,” +Skipper Tom reported.</p> +<p>“You and Dawson go, Halstead,” nodded Mr. +Seaton. “I want not more than sixty seconds +with Captain Rawley in his own room.”</p> +<p>When the charter-man of the “Restless” came +out once more the thick pile of banknotes in his +pocket had grown a good deal thinner, but Captain +Rawley had been enlisted as a friend to +the cause.</p> +<p>“Good-bye, old chums,” cried Dick Davis, +gripping a hand of Tom and Joe with each of +his own.</p> +<p>“Good-bye! Good luck now, and all the way +through life!” murmured Tom, earnestly, and +with a hidden meaning that Davis caught.</p> +<p>As speedily as Tom and Joe had assisted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +Powell Seaton aboard the motor boat, Hank +cast off, while the crew of the “Glide” began +to raise the side gangway.</p> +<p>There were more rousing farewells between +the two groups of Motor Boat Club boys. Then +the hoarse whistle of the “Glide” sounded, and +the freighter began to go ahead at half-speed.</p> +<p>The “Restless” fell away and astern, yet she +followed the freighter. That she should do so +had been understood with Captain Rawley, and +with Dick and Ab. Powell Seaton intended to +keep the “Glide” within sight for at least thirty-six +hours, if possible, in order to make sure that +the seventy-foot drab boat did not attempt to +put Anson Dalton or any other messenger on +board.</p> +<p>“If we stick to the sea for a hundred years, +Joe,” laughed Skipper Tom, as he followed the +bigger craft at a distance of eight hundred feet, +“nothing as lucky as this is likely to happen +again. I was afraid I was booked for Rio, +for sure, and it made me heartsick to think of +leaving the ‘Restless’ so long and living +aboard a big tub of an ordinary, steam-propelled +ship!”</p> +<p>“I’ve taken the step, now, and can’t very +well change it,” declared Mr. Seaton, who +looked both pale and thoughtful. “Halstead, +all I can hope and pray for is that your comrades +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +on the ship ahead are as clever and watchful, +as brave and honest as you think.”</p> +<p>“If wondering about Dick and Ab is all that +ever worries me,” laughed Tom Halstead, +easily, “I don’t believe I shall ever have any +wrinkles. I know those boys, Mr. Seaton. We +were born and raised in the same little Maine +seacoast town, and I’d trust that pair with the errand +if it were my own diamond field at stake.”</p> +<p>The fog had lifted sufficiently, by this time, +so that clear vision was to be had for at least +a quarter of a mile.</p> +<p>Skipper Tom whistled as he handled the +wheel. Joe Dawson was so relieved in mind +that, after a careful look at the motors, he +threw himself upon one of the berths opposite +and dozed. Hank put in his time looking after +preparations for supper.</p> +<p>“What ails you, Halstead?” demanded Seaton, +pausing abruptly beside the young skipper.</p> +<p>For the boy had turned, suddenly, to a sickly +pallor.</p> +<p>“It has just struck me, sir,” confessed the +young motor boat skipper, “that, if Dalton has +the slightest suspicion of what we’ve done to +outwit him, he’s just the man who will be desperate +enough to put his whole set of papers +in at the nearest cable office for direct sending +to Rio Janeiro!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_HELPLESS_IN_THE_NORTHEASTER' id='CHAPTER_XIX_HELPLESS_IN_THE_NORTHEASTER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>HELPLESS IN THE NORTHEASTER!</h3> +</div> +<p>“I’ve already thought of that,” nodded +Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>“And it doesn’t worry you, sir—doesn’t +make you anxious?” questioned Captain +Tom Halstead.</p> +<p>“No. Of course, Dalton might cable the full +contents of the papers. If the paper could fall +only into Governor Terrero’s hands it would +be well worth the cable tolls. But if such a +cablegram were sent, openly, to Terrero, or one +of his representatives, it would have to go, first +of all, through the hands of the Government +officials who have charge of the cable.”</p> +<p>“But couldn’t Terrero fix that?” asked Halstead.</p> +<p>“No; Rio is out of his state, and beyond the +sphere of his strongest influence. Now, if I +were to land in Rio Janeiro, I would be arrested +on a warrant issued by Terrero’s judges, +up in the state of Vahia, and I would have to +go to Vahia for trial. Undoubtedly Terrero’s +rascally officers would shoot me on the way, and +report that I had tried to escape.”</p> +<p>“Then what harm could it do to Terrero’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +chances for Dalton to send him the cablegram +direct?”</p> +<p>“Why, either the cable officials in Rio are +very great rascals, or else they are honest officials. +If they are rascals, they might hold the +cablegram long enough to act for themselves +on the information it contained. On the other +hand, if they are honest officials, then they would +undoubtedly notify the Government of such a +stupendous piece of news. The Government +would then very likely take charge of my diamond +field itself, which would be wholly legal, +for the Government already owns many, if not +the greater number, of the producing diamond +fields of that country. So, if the Government, +acting on information from its cable officials, +took possession of the news and of the diamond +field, what good would the cablegram do Governor +Terrero? No; you may be very sure +that Dalton won’t send the contents of the +papers by cablegram. He undoubtedly has the +strongest orders from Terrero against doing +that.”</p> +<p>“I feel better, then,” Tom admitted. “For +the moment it came over me, like a thunderbolt, +that Dalton might nip all our work in the bud +by sending a cablegram. Still, couldn’t he send +it by code?”</p> +<p>“No; for only the ordinary codes can go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +through the Brazilian cable offices, and the Government +officers have the keys to all the codes +that are allowed. Rest easy, Halstead; Dalton +won’t attempt to use the cable.”</p> +<p>“Then, if he doesn’t get aboard the ‘Glide,’ +we’ll beat him out to Brazil—that’s the surest +thing in the world!” cried Tom, with as much +enthusiasm as though the great fortune at stake +were his own.</p> +<p>They were still following in the wake of the +“Glide.” Once in a while Dick Davis or Ab +Perkins had the operator on the freighter flash +back a wireless message of a friendly, personal +nature. Joe answered all these.</p> +<p>For thirty-six hours this pleasant stern-chase +lasted. By night the helmsman of the +“Restless” kept the searchlight enough in +use to make sure that the drab boat did not +appear.</p> +<p>“Dalton and Lemly lost the ‘Glide,’ if they +were looking for her, in the fog,” chuckled +Halstead, in huge satisfaction. “Any Rio-bound +boat they can catch now is hopelessly to +the rear of the ‘Glide,’ I reckon.”</p> +<p>Joe, by wiring back, and asking other wireless +vessels to relay, from time to time, had +ascertained that there was no other steam vessel, +bound for Rio, in close pursuit.</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton took his trick at the wheel occasionally. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +So did Hepton. Joe gave most of +his time to the wireless installation, though he +maintained charge of the motors, Hank doing +most of the work there. All had sleep enough +during the cruise south. Joe used some of his +spare time in carrying out his former plan of +connecting the wireless table with the helmsman +by means of a speaking tube.</p> +<p>They were well down the coast of Florida +when even anxious Powell Seaton declared that +there was no need of cruising longer in the wake +of the “Glide.” He felt certain that the +freighter had entirely eluded the vigilance of +those on board the drab boat.</p> +<p>By this time the supply of gasoline was nearly +out. Tom had cautioned the charter-man that +so long a run would use up about the last of +their oil. There was, however, a small sail +fitted to the signal mast. Now, when the crew +of the “Restless” turned back, the sail was +hoisted and power shut off.</p> +<p>“We’ve oil enough to run perhaps three-quarters +of an hour, sir,” the young skipper +explained. “We’ll have to use that up in making +port when we get in sight.”</p> +<p>Sailing aboard the “Restless” proved lazy +work at the outset. With this small sail there +was not wind enough to carry the boat at much +more than two miles per hour on her northwest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +course for the nearest Florida town where gasoline +was likely to be had.</p> +<p>“We’ll have a jolly long sail of it,” laughed +Skipper Tom, “unless the wind should freshen.”</p> +<p>“Well, we don’t care,” smiled Mr. Seaton. +“At least, you won’t be overworked. And our +minds are easier—mine especially.”</p> +<p>“All of us have easier minds,” Halstead retorted. +“Don’t you understand, sir, that the +rest of us have taken this whole business to +heart? We couldn’t be more concerned than we +are to see the affairs of our charter parties +come through all right.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I believe that,” nodded Powell Seaton. +“You boys have been the strongest sort of personal +friends to me in my troubles. You +couldn’t possibly have made my affairs, and my +dangers, more thoroughly your own troubles.”</p> +<p>Two hours later a wireless message came +back from the “Glide.” It was from Dick +Davis, and couched in vague terms, but meant +to inform those aboard the “Restless” that the +drab seventy-footer was still out of sight. An +hour after that a second message reached the +motor boat. Soon after the “Restless” found +herself unable to answer, though still able to +receive.</p> +<p>“Hank, are you feeling particularly strong +to-day?” inquired Mr. Seaton. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></p> +<p>“I’m always strong, sir,” replied the young +steward.</p> +<p>“Then why not rack your pantry stores in +order to supply the biggest thing in a meal for +all hands this evening? I feel more like eating +than I have any day in a month.”</p> +<p>“You’d have to go to a sure-enough number-one +hotel to find a better meal than I’ll put up +for this evening,” retorted Hank, grinning gleefully, +as he started for the galley.</p> +<p>In such lazy weather Tom Halstead felt that +he could go below for a nap, especially as Joe +was around. Hepton was left at the wheel. +Tom speedily closed his eyes in one of the +soundest naps he had enjoyed in many a day. +He was awakened by Hank, who came into the +stateroom and shook him by the shoulder.</p> +<p>“Weather’s all right, up to now,” Butts informed +the young captain. “Still, we don’t +like the looks of the sky, and the barometer is +beginning to show signs of being eccentric. +Won’t you come up on deck for a minute, anyway?”</p> +<p>Tom was out of his berth in a twinkling. +There was enough of the sea-captain in him for +that. The instant he reached the deck his +gaze swept around anxiously, inquiringly, at +the sky.</p> +<p>“The clouds up on the northeast horizon don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +look exactly friendly, do they?” he inquired of +Joe.</p> +<p>“Don’t know,” replied Dawson. “Haven’t +seen enough of them yet.”</p> +<p>“I’m thinking you will, soon,” replied Halstead. +“How’s the wind been?”</p> +<p>“From the east, sir,” replied Hepton, who +was at the wheel.</p> +<p>“It’s working around to northeast, now,” +muttered Halstead. “And it was almost from +the south when I turned in.”</p> +<p>Tom stood by the barometer, watching it.</p> +<p>“Trouble coming,” he said, briefly.</p> +<p>Within half an hour his prediction began to +be verified. The darkish, “muddy” clouds +first seen on the northeast horizon were looming +up rapidly, the wind now driving steadily +from that quarter. Even with all the smallness +of her single sail the “Restless” was heeling +over considerably to port.</p> +<p>“Lay along here, Hank, and help me to put a +double reef in the sail,” Tom ordered. “I don’t +want this little bit of canvas blown away from +us.”</p> +<p>As Tom called, he eased off the sheet, and +Hepton lounged away from the wheel.</p> +<p>“Too bad,” muttered Hank Butts. “We’ve +been making a good four knots since the wind +freshened.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span></p> +<p>“I’m out of a guess if there isn’t a wind +coming that’d take a sail out of its fastenings +in ten seconds,” rejoined Halstead, working +industriously with the reeves.</p> +<p>A light squall struck them before the boys +had finished their task.</p> +<p>“A September northeaster along this coast +is no laughing matter, from all I’ve heard of +it,” Tom explained as the two boys took the +last hitches. “Now, come on, Hank. We’ll +hoist her.”</p> +<p>With long rhythmic pulls at the halyards Tom +and Butts got the shortened sail up, making all +secure.</p> +<p>“You’d better take the wheel, Joe,” sang out +the young skipper. “Hepton, stand by to give +a hand if the helm moves hard.”</p> +<p>“You seem rather excited over a pleasant +breeze like this,” observed Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>“Wait,” said Tom, quietly. “I only hope I +am taking too much precaution. I’ve never +handled a boat along the Florida coast before, +you know, sir, so it’s best to err on the side +of caution.”</p> +<p>Hank was sent off on the jump, now, to make +everything secure, while Skipper Tom took his +place on the bridge deck at starboard to watch +the weather.</p> +<p>“I guess there’ll be time, now, Hank, to rig +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +life lines on the bridge deck,” hinted Halstead, +coolly. “Never mind about any aft. Whoever +goes below can go through the motor +room.”</p> +<p>Catching a look full of meaning in the young +commander’s eye, Butts hustled about his new +task.</p> +<p>“You seem to be making very serious preparations,” +suggested Powell Seaton, seriously.</p> +<p>“Nothing like being a fool on the wise side,” +answered Skipper Tom, calmly.</p> +<p>Within ten minutes more the wind had freshened +a good deal, and the “Restless” was bending +over considerably to port, running well, indeed, +considering her very small spread of +canvas.</p> +<p>Now, the sky became darker. The weather +was like that on shore in autumn when the birds +are seen scurrying to cover just before the +storm breaks.</p> +<p>“I reckon there’s going to be something close +to trouble, after all,” observed Powell Seaton, +when it became necessary for him to hold his +hat on.</p> +<p>Tom nodded in a taciturn way, merely saying:</p> +<p>“If you’re going to stay on deck, Mr. Seaton, +you’d better put on a cap, or a sou’wester.”</p> +<p>Mr. Seaton started below, through the motor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +room. While he was still there the gale struck, +almost without further warning.</p> +<p>“Watch the wind and ease off a bit, Joe,” +bawled Skipper Halstead in his chum’s ear.</p> +<p>Joe Dawson nodded slightly. The gale was +now upon them with such fury that making +one’s self heard was something like work.</p> +<p>Despite the prompt easing by the helm, the +“Restless” bowled over a good deal as the +crest of the first in-rolling wave hit her.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, a cap on his head, appeared +at the motor room hatchway. Tom motioned +him to remain where he was.</p> +<p>Clutching at the rail, Tom Halstead kept his +face turned weatherward most of the time. He +knew, now, that a fifty-five-foot boat like the +“Restless,” weather-staunch though she was, +was going to have about all she could do in the +sea that would be running in a few minutes +more.</p> +<p>Nor did he make any mistake about that. A +darkness that was almost inky settled down over +them. Bending through the hatchway, the +young sailing master yelled to Powell Seaton +to switch on the running lights.</p> +<p>“For we’ll need ’em mighty soon, if we don’t +now,” Captain Tom added.</p> +<p>Hank reappeared with rain-coats, and with +his own on. Hardly had those on deck so covered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +themselves when, accompanied by a vivid +flash of lightning and a crashing peal of thunder, +the rain came down upon them. At first there +were a few big drops. Then, the gale increasing, +the rain came in drenching sheets. The +decks began to run water, almost choking the +scuppers.</p> +<p>The heeling of the “Restless” was no longer +especially noticeable. She was rolling and +pitching in every direction, accompanied by a +straining and creaking of timbers.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, standing below, clutching for +support, and not much of a sailor at best, began +to feel decidedly scared.</p> +<p>“Are we going to be able to weather this, +Captain Halstead?” he yelled up, as the young +skipper paused close by the hatchway.</p> +<p>Though the noise of the now furious gale prevented +Tom from making out the words very +clearly, he knew, by instinct, almost, what had +been asked of him.</p> +<p>“Weather the gale, sir?” Tom bawled down, +hoarsely. “Of course! We’ve got to!”</p> +<p>There was a new sound that made the young +sailing master jump, then quiver. With a great +tearing and rending the single canvas gave way +before the roaring gale. In a trice the sail was +blown to fluttering ribbons!</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_CQD_CQDHELP' id='CHAPTER_XX_CQD_CQDHELP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>“C.Q.D! C.Q.D.!—HELP!”</h3> +</div> +<p>“Lay along with me, Hank!” bawled the +young skipper, hoarsely, in the steward’s +ear. “We’ve got to cut away +what’s left of the sail.”</p> +<p>Neither helmsman could wisely be spared. +Though the boat now had no power of her own +she was being driven sharply before the gale, +and some fine handling of the wheel was needed +in order to keep the boat so headed that she +might wallow as little as possible in the trough +of the sea.</p> +<p>Nor was the work of the young captain and +Hank Butts anything like play. Making their +way out along the top of the cabin deck-house +was in itself hazardous. They were forced to +clutch at any rigging that came to hand to +avoid being washed overboard, for the waves +were dashing furiously over the helpless boat.</p> +<p>It was not much of a task to haul in the sheet, +making fast. Then, using their sailor’s knives, +they slashed away.</p> +<p>It was needful for one of them to go aloft.</p> +<p>“I can do it,” proposed Hank, summoning +all his courage. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></p> +<p>“I know you can,” Tom bawled in his ear. +“But I’m not going to send anyone where I +wouldn’t go myself. It’s mine to go aloft.”</p> +<p>Thrusting his knife securely into the sheath +at the end of its lanyard, Tom Halstead began +to climb. Hank watched him closely. The pair +at the wheel had no time to observe. All their +attention was needed on their own work.</p> +<p>As he climbed, Tom Halstead had a sensation +of being in danger of being pitched overboard.</p> +<p>Next, as the “Restless” lay over harder than +she had yet done, it seemed as though the mast +were bent on touching the water. Halstead had +to halt in his climbing, satisfied to hold on for +dear life.</p> +<p>“Oh, if we only had enough gasoline aboard!” +groaned the young skipper, regretfully. “It +would be a tough storm, even then, though +nothing like as bad as this!”</p> +<p>As the boat partially righted herself, he went +on with his climbing. At length he found himself +where he could bring his knife into play, +slashing away the fragments of the wind-torn +canvas. When the work was done Halstead let +himself to the deck again, half-expecting that +the force of the pitching and fury of the gale +would catch him and sweep him over into the +dark, raging waters.</p> +<p>Yet he reached the deck in safety, finding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +himself beside Hank Butts, who, by this time, +looked more like some water-logged thing than +a natty steward.</p> +<p>“Come on below to the sail-locker,” roared +Captain Tom in the other boy’s ear. “Be careful +to hold to the life lines and go slow when +the boat heels over. We’ll get the new sail out +and rig it—if we can.”</p> +<p>Hepton, seeing them coming, made a sign to +Joe, who stood doggedly braced at the wheel. +Joe did all he could—it was little enough—to +swing the boat’s head a trifle so that she would +ride more easily, if possible, in that terrible sea.</p> +<p>Slowly Tom and Hank made their way to the +motor room door and slipped down below. +There Powell Seaton, his face white, confronted +them.</p> +<p>“Captain, this is awful. I don’t see how the +‘Restless’ rides such a sea at all.”</p> +<p>“She’d not only ride but steer well, sir, if we +had gasoline enough to run her by her propellers,” +Halstead shouted back. “I’d go all the +way to Havana in a gale like this if I could +use the twin propellers. The ‘Restless’ is a +sea boat, and she can’t sink unless the watertight +compartments are smashed.”</p> +<p>“But she can turn over and ride keel upward, +can’t she?” demanded Mr. Seaton, with a +ghastly grin. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span></p> +<p>“She can, sir, if she heels enough,” Tom admitted. +“But that’s why Joe’s at the wheel—because +we need a fellow who can make the +most out of such headway as the force of wind +and waves gives us. And now, sir, Hank and +I must try to rig a new sail.”</p> +<p>Out of the sail-locker they dragged the new +canvas. It was all in readiness for rigging. +In calm weather they could have done this +readily—but now? Only time could tell.</p> +<p>“Lend ’em a hand, Hepton!” roared Joe, as +he saw the young captain and helper appear +with the bulky canvas.</p> +<p>It was all the three of them could do, in the +rolling, high seas in which the “Restless” +pitched like a chip of wood, to get that sail on +top of the cabin deck-house. Bit by bit they +rigged it in place, working fast, straining muscle +and sinew to hold the sail against the gale +that strove to carry the canvas overboard. At +last, they had it in place, ready for hoisting.</p> +<p>“Stand by to hoist,” sang out Captain Tom. +“The two of you. Go slow! I’ll watch for +trouble as you shake it out.”</p> +<p>All the reefs had been taken in the sail before +hoisting. Tom Halstead had made up his +mind to be satisfied with just a showing of canvas +to catch the high wind—enough to keep the +boat steady. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></p> +<p>As the sail went up, flapping wildly in the +breeze, Halstead began to have his doubts +whether it would last long. It was their last +chance, however, for the control of the “Restless.”</p> +<p>“Lay along here!” roared Tom, through his +hands as a trumpet, when he saw that they had +made the halyards fast. Now he signed to +them to help him haul in on the sheet. Joe, +watching, just making out the white of the canvas +through the darkness, threw the wheel over +to make the craft catch the wind. In a few moments +more the gale was tugging against the +small spread of canvas, and the “Restless” was +once more under control—while the sail lasted!</p> +<p>All but exhausted, the trio found their way +forward. For a brief space they tumbled below +into the motor room, though Halstead stood +where he could see Joe Dawson and spring to +his aid when needed.</p> +<p>“Hank,” called Halstead, five minutes later, +“your trick and mine on deck. We’ll give Joe +and Hepton a chance to get their wind below.”</p> +<p>Small as was the spread of canvas, Tom +found, when he took the wheel, that the good +little “Restless” was plunging stiffly along on +her course. She was a wonderfully staunch little +boat. The young sailing master bewailed his +luck in having hardly any gasoline on board. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +It should never happen again, he promised himself.</p> +<p>Again? Was there to be any “again”? The +motor boat captain was by no means blind to +the fact that the “Restless” hadn’t quite an +even chance of weathering this stiff gale. At +any moment the sail might go by the board in +ribbons, as the first had done. Hank was not +even watching the sail. If it gave way it must.</p> +<p>Joe presently came on deck for his next trick +at the wheel. Hepton was with him.</p> +<p>“I’ve been thinking about the prisoner in the +starboard stateroom,” announced Joe. “It’s +inhuman to leave him there, locked in and handcuffed, +in such a gale. He must be enduring +fearful torment.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded Tom. “I’ve just been thinking +that I must go down and set him free as +soon as I’m relieved.”</p> +<p>“Go along, then,” proposed young Dawson. +“I have the wheel, and Hepton by me.”</p> +<p>Taking Hank Butts with him, Tom Halstead +made his way below.</p> +<p>“Dawson was just speaking to me about our +prisoner,” began Powell Seaton. “Dawson +thinks he ought to be turned loose—at least +while this gale lasts.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” nodded Captain Halstead. “I’m on +my way to do it now.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span></p> +<p>“Will it be safe?”</p> +<p>“We can’t help whether it is, or not,” Skipper +Tom rejoined. “It’s a humane thing to do, +and we’ll have to do it.”</p> +<p>Powell Seaton did not interpose any further +objections. It would have been of little moment +if he had, for, on the high seas, the ship’s +commander is the sole judge of what is to be +done.</p> +<p>Even below decks, going through the electric-lighted +passage and cabin, Tom and Hank made +their way with not a little difficulty. They +paused, at last, before the starboard stateroom +door, and Tom fitted the key in the lock.</p> +<p>Jasper, the man locked within, faced them +with affrighted gaze.</p> +<p>“We’re going to the bottom?” he demanded, +hoarsely, tremulously. His very evident terror +gave the young skipper a new idea.</p> +<p>“Are you prepared to go to the bottom, +Jasper?” demanded Halstead.</p> +<p>“Am I fit to die, do you mean?” asked the +man, with a strange, sickly grin. “No, sir; I’m +not. At least, not until I’ve cleared myself by +telling a few truths.”</p> +<p>“Come out into the cabin, man,” ordered Halstead, +leading him. “Now, sit down, and I’ll get +your handcuffs off.”</p> +<p>The young captain of the “Restless” unlocked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +the irons about the fellow’s wrists. +Jasper stretched his hands, flexing his wrists.</p> +<p>“Now, I can swim, anyway, though I don’t +believe it will do much good,” he declared.</p> +<p>“No; it won’t do much good,” Halstead assented. +“We’re something more than forty +miles off the coast. But what do you want to +say? What’s on your mind? Be quick, man, +for we must be on deck again in a jiffy. I don’t +want to lose my boat while I’m below with a +rascal like you.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t always been a rascal,” retorted +Jasper, hanging his head. “At least, I have +been fairly straight, until the other day.”</p> +<p>“What have you been doing for Dalton and +Lemly?” demanded Tom Halstead, fixing his +gaze sternly on the frightened fellow.</p> +<p>“Never anything for Dalton,” whined Jasper.</p> +<p>“Well, for Lemly, then?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve been snooping about a bit, for two +years or so, getting tips for Dave Lemly.”</p> +<p>“What has Lemly been smuggling in the +‘Black Betty’ all this time?”</p> +<p>“Diamonds,” admitted Jasper, sullenly.</p> +<p>Tom Halstead felt like giving a great start, +but controlled himself.</p> +<p>“Smuggling diamonds under Anson Dalton’s +orders, eh?” insisted the young skipper.</p> +<p>“Yes; I reckon so.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“How did you come into our matter—as a +guard and a traitor?”</p> +<p>“I was on hand when Mr. Seaton was getting +his guards together,” replied Jasper. “So was +Dave Lemly’s mate. The mate told me to jump +in and get my chance with the guard.”</p> +<p>“What other orders did you have?”</p> +<p>“I was to watch my chance to do anything +nasty that I could,” confessed the fellow, hanging +his head.</p> +<p>“That was why you tried to ruin our +aerials?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“You also listened to Mr. Seaton and myself, +the night we were going over to Lonely +Island?”</p> +<p>Jasper squirmed, his face growing more +ashen.</p> +<p>“You heard what was said about papers +hidden in a cupboard at the bungalow. Did +you? Answer me, confound you!”</p> +<p>With an appearance of utter rage Tom +bounded at the fellow, as though about to attack +him. Hank closed in, to be ready in case +the attack turned out to be a genuine one.</p> +<p>“Yes, I stole an envelope full of papers,” +admitted Jasper.</p> +<p>“What did you do with them?”</p> +<p>“I turned them over to Dave Lemly.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></p> +<p>“Where? On Lonely Island?”</p> +<p>“Yes; Lemly visited the island twice, at +night, while I was on duty there,” confessed +the fellow, whining and letting his head fall +lower.</p> +<p>“What else have you done against us?”</p> +<p>“Nothing, except trying to disable your wireless.”</p> +<p>“Are you telling the whole, full truth?” demanded +Captain Tom Halstead, surveying the +fellow suspiciously. “As much of the truth as +you want to lay bare before going to the bottom +in this wild storm?”</p> +<p>“Yes! Oh, yes, yes!” insisted Jasper, easily. +“Now, I’ve cleared my conscience of its load!”</p> +<p>“Humph!” muttered Tom Halstead, dryly.</p> +<p>At that moment a snapping sound overhead +reached their ears. The “Restless” veered +about, then heeled dangerously.</p> +<p>“Our second and last sail has gone!” cried +the young skipper, starting forward. “Jasper, +I hope you have told me the whole truth, for +there is no knowing, now, how soon you’ll start +for the bottom—how soon we’ll all go down. +Helpless in this sea, the ‘Restless’ may ‘turn +turtle.’”</p> +<p>Nor was Tom speaking in jest, nor in any +effort to scare the recent prisoner into a fuller +confession. Indeed, the motor boat captain was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +paying no further heed to the wretch, but making +his way forward. Jasper started to follow, +Hank bringing up the rear.</p> +<p>As they reached the motor room the pitching +and rolling of the boat were awesome enough. +It seemed incredible that a boat the size of the +“Restless” could live even a minute in her now +helpless condition.</p> +<p>Joe still stood at the wheel, white-faced but +calm.</p> +<p>“I don’t see what we can do now, Tom,” he +shouted.</p> +<p>“Nothing but get down to the wireless, and +do anything you can in the way of picking up +some steamship,” Halstead answered. “We +might get a tow, or, at least, another spread of +canvas for a third try to ride out the gale. The +chances aren’t big for us, but—well, Joe, we’re +sailors, and can take our medicine.”</p> +<p>Joe smiled grittily as he edged away from +the wheel after his chum had taken it.</p> +<p>“At least, if we go down, we go down in command +of our own ship!” he yelled bravely in +Tom’s ear through the wild racket of the gale.</p> +<p>Then Joe went below. The storage batteries +held electricity enough to operate the few lights +and keep the wireless going at intervals for +some hours yet.</p> +<p>Once, in the minutes that dragged by, Hank +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +Butts thought of the fine spread he had been +instructed to serve all hands that night. But +no one else was thinking of food now. Coffee +would have been more to the purpose, but to +start a galley fire was to take the risk of adding +fire at sea to the already more than sufficient +perils of those aboard the “Restless.”</p> +<p>Every few minutes Captain Tom Halstead +called down through the speaking tube that +connected him with Joe Dawson at the sending +table. Always Joe’s calm answer came, the +same:</p> +<p>“Our wireless spark hasn’t picked up any +other ship yet.”</p> +<p>Then, just as frequently, Joe would rest his +hand on the sending key again, and send crashing +off into space the signal:</p> +<p>“C.Q.D.!” The three letters that carry always +the same message of despair across the +waves.</p> +<p>“C.Q.D.!”—the wireless signal of distress. +“Help wanted, or we perish!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_THE_SPARK_FINDS_A_FRIEND_THROUGH_THE_GALE' id='CHAPTER_XXI_THE_SPARK_FINDS_A_FRIEND_THROUGH_THE_GALE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>THE SPARK FINDS A FRIEND THROUGH THE GALE</h3> +</div> +<p>The time had dragged on far into the +night. Joe was still at the wireless +sending table, sleepless, patient, brave—a +sailor born and bred.</p> +<p>Jasper, like many another rascal a superstitious +coward in the face of impending death, +was seeking to appease the sting of his conscience +by doing everything in his power to +make amends in these grave moments. He +stood by, pallid-faced yet collected enough to +obey any order instantly.</p> +<p>Captain Tom remained on deck all the time +now, though Hank often relieved him briefly +at the wheel. Both Hepton and Jasper stood +by to help as deck-hands. Powell Seaton came +up on deck occasionally, though he remained +more in the motor room.</p> +<p>Again and again Joe signaled—always that +desperately appealing “C.Q.D.!” It was all +the signal he needed to send out. Wherever +heard, on land or water, the first operator to +catch it would break in at once with a demand +for further particulars.</p> +<p>Yet Joe’s soul grew sick within him as time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +passed, and no such break came through the +storm-laden air. For Dawson, as well as had +he stood on deck, knew that this endless, malignant +fury of the gale must sooner or later start +the seams of the staunch little craft. Or else, +struck by a wave bigger than any others, +she would lie so far over on her beam ends +that she must finish the manœuvre by “turning +turtle”—lying with her keel uppermost, +and the crew penned underneath to drown +in haste.</p> +<p>“Nothing to report yet, Joe, old fellow?” +came down Captain Tom’s brave though anxious +voice for perhaps the fortieth time.</p> +<p>“No reply to our signals, Tom,” went back +the answer.</p> +<p>“Do you think our spark is still strong +enough to carry far?”</p> +<p>“Plenty of electric ‘juice’ left,” Joe responded. +“The spark is as strong as ever. Oh, +if we only had as much gasoline!”</p> +<p>“Oh, if we only had!”</p> +<p>But ten minutes after that last call Joe again +sent forth:</p> +<p>“C.Q.D.! C.Q.D.!”</p> +<p>Then down the receivers traveled a click—not +loud, yet unmistakable.</p> +<p>“Where are you? Answer!” came the response, +out of the air from some quarter. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></p> +<p>In frantic haste Joe Dawson fell upon his key +once more.</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Motor yacht “Restless!” Under no power whatever. +Gasoline almost gone—saving the last for any emergency +chance that comes to us. All canvas blown overboard. Do +you get this?</p> +<p>It seemed to frenzied Joe Dawson as though +many minutes passed, yet the response came +promptly:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Give us your present position, “Restless,” as best you +know it!</p> +<p>Joe obeyed with fingers that seemed themselves +to be worked by electricity. The receiver +of the message repeated Joe’s response, to make +sure that it was correct.</p> +<p>“Who are you?” Joe now broke in to answer.</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Havana liner, bound north, and, we believe, within thirty +miles of you. Have you been signaling long?</p> +<p>“Seems as though I had been signaling for +years,” sent back Joe, laughing nervously to +himself. The answer came:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +We’d heard you before, then, but there was a little mishap +to our installation. You keep at your table to send and +receive. I’ll do the same at my end. Keep up your courage +until we reach you. Be ready to burn Coston lights +when we ask you to.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></div> +<p>Then how fast Joe Dawson managed to talk +up through the speaking tube! Tom Halstead, +after first announcing the great news to the +deck with a wild cheer, put Hank at the wheel +and hurried below. Shortly, however, the +young skipper was back on deck, bearing the +wonderful news.</p> +<p>In smooth weather the Havana liner, ordinarily +a fifteen-knot boat, would have reached +them in two hours. Under the weather conditions +of this wild night it was much later when +the two craft were within hailing distance by +signal lights. Hank was now in command of +the deck, Skipper Tom and Powell Seaton being +with Joe.</p> +<p>“Shall we try to send you a line for a tow?” +came the demand from the liner.</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied Halstead. Then, with a grimace +he added:</p> +<p>“But the salvage charge for such a tow will +call for more than we can raise, Joe, old fellow. +I reckon the ‘Restless’ will have to be put up +for sale to pay her own bills.”</p> +<p>“Do you think I’d let you boys stand the +towing charges?” demanded Powell Seaton, indignantly. +“Whatever charges there are are +mine to pay, and I’m at least good for the entire +purchase price of a few boats like even this +good little old salt water wizard!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></p> +<p>Tom soon afterwards made his way to the +deck, but Mr. Seaton, weak and almost ill after +the hours of anxiety, threw himself upon a +cushioned seat near the wireless sending table.</p> +<p>As Tom stood on the bridge deck he studied +the liner’s lights as that larger craft manœuvred +in to the leeward of the motor craft.</p> +<p>Once she had gained this position at a sufficient +distance to make any collision on this wild +sea unlikely, the liner steamed ahead.</p> +<p>“Stand ready to receive our line!” came to +Joe in clicks through the watch-case receivers +over either ear. He swiftly transmitted the +order through the speaking tube to Halstead on +the bridge.</p> +<p>Then the liner burned another light. Tom +answered with one held in his own hand. It +was the signal to look for the line, and the answer.</p> +<p>Through the darkness came a sudden, red +flash from the after deck of the liner. The wind +was so heavy that those on the bridge deck of the +“Restless” could not be sure that they heard +the report of the gun. But a missile whizzed +over their heads, and to this blessed projectile +trailed a thin line that fell across the top of the +cabin deck.</p> +<p>Tom and Hank made a simultaneous bolt to +get hold of that line. It was young Butts who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +secured it. He passed it on to the young captain, +and, together, they leaped to the bridge-deck +with it. From there they crawled forward +over the raised deck, slipping the line, at +last, between the two raised ends of the towing +bitt.</p> +<p>“Now, haul in with a will,” glowed the +young skipper, as they crept back to the bridge-deck. +A great wave swept over them on their +way back. Tom saw it coming, and braced +himself. Hank was caught by the rush of +waters; he would have been swept overboard, +but Halstead grabbed at one of his ankles, holding +on grimly.</p> +<p>At that moment the late prisoner, Jasper, +saw what was happening. Projecting himself +forward over the raised deck, he, too, caught +hold of Hank Butts, while Powell Seaton held +to Jasper.</p> +<p>It was a sort of human chain by which Hank +was pulled to safety. Tom, throughout the excitement, +held the “thin line” in one hand.</p> +<p>“Haul in this thin line, quickly,” shouted +the young commander, who could barely make +himself heard above the tumult of the gale.</p> +<p>As the line was some four hundred feet long, +it used up precious moments to haul it and coil +up the slack. As the last of the “thin line” +came into their hands there came with it the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +first of a stouter hawser, the two lines being +knotted securely together.</p> +<p>“Hold on to me, now! Form a chain again,” +ordered Skipper Tom. “I’ll make the hawser +fast forward.”</p> +<p>All this while the Havana liner, some four +hundred feet away, was going through a complicated +bit of manœuvering under the hands +of her officers. Alternately she moved at half-speed-ahead, +at stop, or on the reverse, in order +that, despite the high-rolling waves, she might +not go too far ahead and snap the thin line. +But now young Halstead soon had a stout hitch +about the towing bitt at the bow. A few more +turns, then he signaled to those behind holding +him to help him back to the bridge deck. A +dozen great waves had rolled over him on that +smooth raised deck, but the members of the +human chain hauled him back to safety.</p> +<p>“Signal to our friends that they can apply +full speed ahead, Joe, if they want to,” directed +the young motor boat captain, briefly, as he +reached the comparative safety of the bridge +deck once more.</p> +<p>Over the noise of the gale the answering blast +from the liner’s whistle came to them as a far-away +sound. But now the big boat ahead +started on at a ten-knot speed.</p> +<p>“Gracious, but this seems good, once more!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +glowed Tom Halstead, taking over the wheel +as the towing hawser tautened and the “Restless” +began to move forward under a headway +that could be controlled and directed.</p> +<p>“We couldn’t have stood this racket much +longer, without a tow,” chattered Joe. “I’ve +had moments at the wheel, to-night, when, on +account of our helplessness, I’ve felt sure we +were going to ‘turn turtle.’”</p> +<p>“What ails your jaws, old fellow?” demanded +Tom, looking curiously at his chum. “Say, +you’re shaking to pieces, and I don’t wonder. +Get below and get dry and warm. Get below +all of you, except one to stand by me. Who +can best remain on deck for a few minutes +more?”</p> +<p>“I can,” proposed Jasper, starting forward +with an odd mixture of sullenness and eagerness +in his tone.</p> +<p>“I’ll trust you—now,” nodded Captain Halstead, +after eyeing the man keenly. “The rest +of you get below. We want a few dry folks +aboard.”</p> +<p>On board there was clothing in abundance, +enough to enable everyone to make at least a +few changes. Now that the “Restless” could +be held to a course, Hank Butts cautiously made +a small fire in the galley stove, and then stood +by to watch the fire. After a while he had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +coffee going—this with a “cold bite” of +food.</p> +<p>Hepton came up, bye-and-bye, to take the +wheel. As he was wholly capable, Tom surrendered +the helm to him, then dropped down +below for some of that coffee.</p> +<p>“We’ve found out to-night what a wireless +is good for,” declared Joe. “But for it, we +wouldn’t have kept the ‘Restless’ afloat and +right side up through the night.”</p> +<p>“Until we got this tow I didn’t expect ever +to see port again,” Tom Halstead admitted, +quietly. “Do you know, the worst thing folks +will have against row-boats in the future will +be the fact that row-boats are too small to +carry a wireless installation!”</p> +<p>“You feel wholly safe, now, do you, captain?” +demanded Powell Seaton. “It rather seems to +me that the gale has been getting heavier.”</p> +<p>“It has,” Halstead admitted. “If we were +adrift, now, we probably couldn’t keep right-side +up for ten minutes. But give the ‘Restless’ +real headway, and she’ll weather any gale +that a liner or a warship will.”</p> +<p>“If the towing hawser should part!” shuddered +Mr. Seaton.</p> +<p>“We’d hope to get another line across, and +made fast, before we ‘turned turtle,’” replied +Skipper Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></p> +<p>No one could venture from below on the +bridge deck without being quickly drenched. +For that reason the wheel-reliefs were short. +Hank, by staying right by his galley fire, was +able to keep heat at which anyone coming down +from the bridge deck could dry himself.</p> +<p>By daylight the gale and sea were lighter. +For one thing, the Havana liner had carried +her tow so far north that they were out of the +worst of it. Half an hour after daylight the +wireless operator aboard the larger craft telegraphed +Joe:</p> +<p>“We’ve taken you in four miles off the town +of Mocalee. You can get gasoline there. Do +you want to cast off our line now?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” flashed back Joe, after consulting +Captain Halstead. “And our greatest, heartiest +thanks for your fine work for us.”</p> +<p>There was further interchange of courtesies, +then the line was cast off as soon as Joe and +Hank had started the twin motors going on the +little that was left of the gasoline. There was +no way, or need, to settle the liner’s towing +charges now. These could be collected later, +for the “Restless” was a boat registered by the +United States authorities. She could be found +and libeled anywhere if her young owners failed +to settle.</p> +<p>“Hooray! But doesn’t it feel great to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +moving under one’s own power again!” chortled +Captain Tom, as he felt the vibration of the +propellers and swung the steering wheel.</p> +<p>Though the coast had been visible from daylight, +the town of Mocalee was not in sight until +the boat neared the mouth of a river. Up this +stream, half a mile, nestled a quaint little +Florida town, where, as one of the natives afterwards +expressed it to Joe, “we live on fish in +summer and sick Yankees in winter.”</p> +<p>“We’d better get on shore, all hands, and +stretch our legs,” proposed Powell Seaton, after +Skipper Tom had made the “Restless” fast at +the one sizable dock of the town. “I see a hotel +over yonder. I invite you all to be my guests +at breakfast—on a floor that won’t rock!”</p> +<p>“I’ll stay aboard, then, to look after the +boat,” volunteered Hepton. “And you can +rely on me to keep a mighty sharp eye on that +man, Jasper,” he added, in Halstead’s ear.</p> +<p>It was after seven o’clock in the morning +when the shore party from the “Restless,” +after strolling about a little, turned toward the +hotel.</p> +<p>As they passed through a corridor on the way +to the office Tom Halstead glanced at a red +leather bag that was being brought downstairs +by a negro bell-boy.</p> +<p>“Do you see the bag that servant has?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +asked Tom, in a whisper, as he clutched Powell +Seaton’s arm. “Scar on the side, and all, I’d +know that bag anywhere. It’s the one Anson +Dalton brought over the side when he boarded +the ‘Restless’ from the ‘Constant’!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_TOM_HALSTEAD_SPRINGS_THE_CLIMAX' id='CHAPTER_XXII_TOM_HALSTEAD_SPRINGS_THE_CLIMAX'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>TOM HALSTEAD SPRINGS THE CLIMAX</h3> +</div> +<p>“Can that fellow be here?” demanded +Powell Seaton, his lips twitching.</p> +<p>“He must be—or else he has sent +someone else with his baggage,” Tom Halstead +answered, in an undertone.</p> +<p>None of the party had paused, but had passed +on into the office.</p> +<p>“We’ve got to know,” whispered Powell +Seaton, tremulously.</p> +<p>“Then you go ahead, sir, and register us for +breakfast, and I’ll attend to finding out about +this new puzzle.”</p> +<p>While Mr. Seaton went toward the desk, Tom +signed to Hank Butts to follow him aside.</p> +<p>“About all you can do, Hank, is to get outside, +not far from the door, and see whether +Dalton goes out,” Halstead declared, after having +briefly explained the situation. “If Dalton +leaves the hotel, give us word at once.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></p> +<p>“Here, you take charge of this bag of mine, +then,” begged Hank, turning so that the clerk +at the desk could not see.</p> +<p>Butts had come ashore in a long rain-coat +drawn on over his other clothing. Now, he +quickly opened a small satchel that he had also +brought with him.</p> +<p>“That old hitching weight of yours!” cried +Tom, in a gasping undertone, as he saw Hank +slip that heavy iron object from the bag to a +hiding place under his coat. “How on earth +do you happen to have that thing with you?”</p> +<p>“It must have been a private tip from the +skies,” grinned Hank, “but I saw the thing +lying in the motor room and I picked it up and +slipped it into this satchel. Take the bag from +me and I’ll get out on the porch.”</p> +<p>All this took place so quietly that the clerk +at the desk noticed nothing. Halstead now carried +the empty bag as he sauntered back to the +party. But he found chance to whisper to Joe:</p> +<p>“Anson Dalton must be in this hotel. Hank +is slipping out to watch the front of the house. +Hadn’t you better get around to the rear? If +it happens that the fellow is about to leave here, +it might be worth our while to know where he +goes.”</p> +<p>Nodding, Joe quietly slipped away. The +negro with the red bag had now entered the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +office. The bag, however, he took over to the +coat-room and left it there.</p> +<p>“Breakfast will be ready at any time after +eight o’clock, gentlemen,” announced the +clerk.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton lighted a cigar, remaining +standing by the desk. Tom stood close by. The +door of the office opened. Anson Dalton, puffing +at a cigarette, his gaze resting on the floor, entered. +He was some ten feet into the room before +he looked up, to encounter the steady gaze +of Captain Halstead and the charter-man.</p> +<p>Starting ever so little, paling just a bit, Dalton +returned that steady regard for a few seconds, +then looked away with affected carelessness.</p> +<p>“Going to leave us to-day, Mr. Dalton?” inquired +the clerk.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” replied the scoundrel, almost +sulkily. Then, lighting a fresh cigarette, +he strolled over by one of the windows. Presently, +without looking backward at the captain +and charter-man of the “Restless,” the fellow +opened a door and stepped out onto the porch. +There he promptly recognized Hank Butts, who +stared back at him with interest.</p> +<p>“I wonder if Lemly is with this fellow?” +whispered Halstead to his employer.</p> +<p>“I’m going beyond that, and wondering what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +the whole fact of Dalton’s presence here can +possibly mean,” replied Powell Seaton.</p> +<p>The office door from the corridor opened +again. Through the doorway and across the +office floor stepped, with half-mincing gait, a +young, fair-haired man who, very plainly, had +devoted much attention to his attire.</p> +<p>“Where is Mr. Dalton?” demanded this immaculate +youth, in a soft, rather effeminate +voice that made Halstead regard him with a +look of disfavor.</p> +<p>“You’ll find him out on the porch, I think, +Mr. Dawley,” answered the clerk.</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you, I’m sure,” replied the soft-voiced +one. As though he were walking on +eggs young Mr. Dawley turned, going toward +the porch door.</p> +<p>“Oh, good morning, Dalton, dear fellow,” +cried the fair-haired dandy, in the same soft +voice, as he came upon Seaton’s enemy, who +was walking up and down the porch utterly +ignoring Hank Butts.</p> +<p>“Good morning, Dawley,” replied Dalton, +looking more than a little bored by the interruption.</p> +<p>“Now, who and what, in the game, is Dalton’s +Elizabeth-boy friend?” wondered Hank, +eying the latest arrival.</p> +<p>“Have a cigarette, Dawley?” asked Dalton, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +in a voice almost of irritation, as he held out +his case.</p> +<p>“Charming of you, indeed,” declared Dawley, +helping himself to a cigarette and lighting it.</p> +<p>“Look out the tobacco doesn’t make you sick, +babe,” muttered Hank Butts under his breath.</p> +<p>“Now, my dear Dalton, about the business +we were discussing here last evening––” began +the soft-voiced one, but the other broke in +on him with:</p> +<p>“If you don’t mind, Dawley, I want to think +a bit now.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that will be quite all right, I am sure,” +agreed the soft-voiced one. “Then I’ll just +stroll down the street a bit and be back in time +to breakfast with you.”</p> +<p>Dalton nodded and the fair-haired fashion +plate stepped down into the path and strolled +away.</p> +<p>“All of which tells us,” reflected Hank, “that +our friend Dalton has been here at least since +yesterday, and that he and the Elizabeth-boy +dude are not very well acquainted.”</p> +<p>Butts looked up, almost with a start, to find +Dalton close at hand, scowling into the boy’s +face.</p> +<p>“I suppose you’re out here to watch me,” +growled Dalton, glaring.</p> +<p>“If I am, you wouldn’t expect me to grow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +confidential about it, would you?” asked Hank, +grinning into the other’s face.</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t want any of your impudence,” +snapped the rascal.</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t give you any, or anything else +belonging to me,” clicked Hank Butts, decisively.</p> +<p>“If you’re standing out here to watch me,” +continued Dalton, “I am willing to tell you that +I am not leaving the hotel for the present.”</p> +<p>“That, or any other information you are +willing to offer me, will be treated in the utmost +confidence, I assure you,” promised Hank.</p> +<p>“Don’t be too frolicsome with me!” warned +Dalton, wrathily.</p> +<p>“I?” echoed Hank, looking astonished. +“Why, I didn’t say anything until you spoke +to me.”</p> +<p>With a snort Anson Dalton strolled away to +a chair, seating himself and blowing out great +clouds of smoke.</p> +<p>“He isn’t exactly glad to see us here—I can +guess that much,” thought Hank. “But I wish +I could guess how Anson Dalton comes to be +here. I didn’t see anything of his drab boat +in the river.”</p> +<p>In the meantime Tom Halstead and Powell +Seaton, after dropping into chairs in the office, +were talking most earnestly in undertones. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +From where they sat they could see Dalton’s +red bag resting on a shelf in the coat-room.</p> +<p>“I’d give the world to know whether the rascal +has the stolen papers still in that bag!” +cried Seaton, anxiously.</p> +<p>“Would he be likely to leave the bag around +the hotel carelessly, if it contained anything so +important?” asked Tom.</p> +<p>“He might have been willing to do so before +he knew we were about here,” replied the +charter-man.</p> +<p>“But even when he knows we’re here the fellow +doesn’t seem anxious about the matter.”</p> +<p>“Because the clerk is behind the desk, +where he can see everything,” hinted Mr. +Seaton.</p> +<p>“Yet, for all Dalton knows, the clerk might +leave the room for a minute and give us our +chance.”</p> +<p>“I’ve an idea,” muttered Mr. Seaton, rising +so quickly that Tom stood up with him. “You +keep the best eye possible over the rascal. Don’t +go in to breakfast unless he goes. Never mind +whether I come to breakfast or not.”</p> +<p>“All right, sir,” nodded Halstead.</p> +<p>As Powell Seaton crossed the porch without +even looking in Dalton’s direction, the young +motor boat captain also stepped outside, going +over to Hank. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></p> +<p>“Watch that fellow, Hank,” whispered Tom. +“Don’t let him get away from you.”</p> +<p>“Not if I have to steal his cigarettes,” promised +Butts, with vim.</p> +<p>Then Skipper Tom vanished, though not for +long. He merely went to find Joe Dawson, at +the opposite side of the building. The two +chums returned together.</p> +<p>“Now,” said Tom, in a chuckling whisper, “if +Anse Dalton wants to get away from us, he’ll +have to run in four different directions at the +same time.”</p> +<p>“But did you see the nice plush boy that’s +with Dalton?” asked Hank, dryly. Butts, more +than any of the others of the party, had taken +a great dislike to the soft-voiced one.</p> +<p>Dalton turned, once in a while, to scowl in +the direction of the three motor boat boys. +That, however, was all the attention he gave +them. A little later Dawley returned and +seated himself beside his friend.</p> +<p>“Breakfast is ready, gentlemen,” called the +clerk, opening the door.</p> +<p>Not one of the Motor Boat Club boys stirred +until after Dalton rose and stepped inside. Then +they followed, close in the rear.</p> +<p>Dalton and his companion stepped into the +dining room, installing themselves at a table +not far from the door. Tom led the way for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +his party at the second table beyond. Two +waiters appeared, one attending to each of the +tables.</p> +<p>Dawley was evidently in bubbling spirits. +He insisted on talking much, in his soft voice, +to Anson Dalton, who was plainly annoyed. +Tom Halstead glanced over at his enemy with +an amused smile.</p> +<p>Yet no word passed between the tables. Food +and coffee were brought, after some minutes, +and at both tables the meal was disposed of +slowly, excellent appetites being the rule.</p> +<p>Powell Seaton, in the meantime, had hastened +to the telegraph office. From there he +wired, “rush,” to the chief of police at Beaufort, +advising the latter that Anson Dalton was +in Mocalee, and asking whether Dalton was +wanted by the United States or state authorities +on any charges growing out of the seizure +of the schooner “Black Betty.”</p> +<p>This dispatch sent off, Mr. Seaton, though +remaining at the telegraph office, sent a messenger +in haste for James Hunter, who represented +Mocalee as chief of police and the entire +police force.</p> +<p>“Jim Hunter,” as he was locally called, a +raw-boned, taciturn man, came speedily to the +telegraph office. He was in his shirt-sleeves, +chewing a straw, but he wore his police badge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +on his coat, while a short “billy” appeared in a +hip pocket. Jim Hunter listened quietly while +the operator, at Seaton’s request, displayed the +original of the telegram that had been sent to +Beaufort.</p> +<p>Telegraph companies give quick service on +telegrams relating to police business. So it was +not long ere the operator’s receiving instrument +began to click with the local call.</p> +<p>The first dispatch that the operator passed +out through the grated window was addressed +to Powell Seaton, and signed by the chief at +Beaufort. It read:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Thank you for information. Have wired chief of police, +Mocalee.</p> +<p>The second telegram, following almost instantly, +was addressed to the chief of police of +Mocalee. It ran:</p> +<p style='font-size:0.9em; margin: 0.5em 2em'> +Arrest Anson Dalton, wanted by U. S. authorities on +charge of smuggling. Powell Seaton will point him out to +you. Notify me when arrested. Be careful to get all Dalton +baggage. Hold for orders.</p> +<p>“That’s all I wanter know,” said Hunter, +laconically, biting off the end of his straw and +spitting it out. “Lead me to your friend Dalton, +Mr. Seaton.”</p> +<p>“I ought to warn you that he’s a desperate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +fellow,” murmured Mr. Seaton, as the pair left +the telegraph office together.</p> +<p>“I’ve seen that kind before,” nodded Mr. +Hunter, curtly.</p> +<p>“Pardon me, but I notice you carry a club. +Dalton will undoubtedly have a revolver, and +he’s likely to be ugly enough to attempt to use +it,” explained Mr. Seaton, apprehensively. +“May I ask if you have a pistol, too?”</p> +<p>“I always carry all the tools I need,” answered +Jim Hunter. “I don’t gen’rally ’low +any man to pull a gun on me, though. Sometimes +I’m quicker’n I gen’rally look.”</p> +<p>There was an air of quiet, forceful reserve +about this Florida policeman that made Powell +Seaton feel more confident that the business in +hand would not be defeated for lack of preparation. +They made their way quickly to the hotel.</p> +<p>Anson Dalton and his soft-voiced companion +were still at table, though evidently near the +end of their meal.</p> +<p>Hank Butts, at a signal from his captain, had +left the table. Hank had donned his rain-coat +again, and was now waiting in the corridor leading +to the stairs, in case Dalton should pass +that way.</p> +<p>A moment later Joe left the table, stepping +through the office and out onto the porch.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +<img src='images/illus-04.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 361px; height: 553px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 361px;'> +The Table Struck Hunter Amidships.<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></div> +<p>Dalton and Dawley were just rising when +Halstead, seated where he could see out into the +office, saw Seaton and a stranger enter.</p> +<p>“Now, the music will begin,” thought Tom +Halstead, throbbing.</p> +<p>“There he is, officer—the dark one!” cried +Powell Seaton, leading the way into the dining +room.</p> +<p>Jim Hunter lost no time. He made a spring +in the direction of Anson Dalton, whose eyes +flashed fire. Trained in a hard, desperate +school, Dalton was fuller of tricks than the +police chief had expected.</p> +<p>As Hunter rushed at him, Dalton forcefully +pushed one of the small tables toward him. It +struck Hunter amidships, most unexpectedly, +and had the result of sending Mocalee’s police +force sprawling to the floor.</p> +<p>“You can’t stop me—you shall not!” roared +Anson Dalton. He made a dash for the doorway +leading to the office. Swift as he was, Tom +Halstead darted through ahead of him.</p> +<p>“He’ll try to get that red bag—and he’ll put +up a fight with a pistol!” flashed through the +young motor boat skipper’s brain. “I’ll fool +him so far as the bag is concerned.”</p> +<p>Diving into the coat-room, the door of which +stood open, Halstead was in season to snatch +up the bag. He turned, to find Dalton rushing +at him, hands reached out. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span></p> +<p>Ducking under, Tom eluded Dalton, and +darted across the office.</p> +<p>“Let some of the others catch him,” gritted +Halstead, inwardly. “What we want most to +know may be in this bag!”</p> +<p>It was all done so quickly that Skipper Tom +was across the office, pulling open the door into +the corridor, before Anson Dalton bounded after +him.</p> +<p>Joe Dawson rushed in from the porch, but too +late to be of immediate help. Officer Hunter had +sprawled badly, and Mr. Seaton had halted to +aid him to his feet.</p> +<p>“Drop that bag, or you’ll wish you had—no +time for this nonsense,” blazed Dalton, angrily, +thrusting his right hand at his hip pocket.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_HANK_BECOMES_REALLY_TERRIBLE' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_HANK_BECOMES_REALLY_TERRIBLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>HANK BECOMES REALLY TERRIBLE</h3> +</div> +<p>Bump! Whack!</p> +<p>Tom Halstead tried to slam the door +shut in his pursuer’s face, but one of +Dalton’s feet barred the closing, then thrust the +door open.</p> +<p>As Halstead raced into the corridor Anson +Dalton was close behind him, his hand yanking +a revolver from his pocket. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span></p> +<p>There would have been a shot in another +instant. Halstead might have been badly +hit.</p> +<p>But Hank Butts, on duty in the corridor, had +heard the cries.</p> +<p>As the door was thrust open Hank leaped forward. +Out from under his rain coat he brought +that same old hitching weight.</p> +<p>There was an instant, only, for action, but +young Butts was an expert with the weapon he +had made his own.</p> +<p>His hands flew aloft, then descended, just as +Anson Dalton’s left foot was thrust forward in +his running.</p> +<p>“Halt, you––” roared Dalton.</p> +<p>Bim! Down came the hitching weight, and +landed squarely across the left foot of the pursuer. +Dalton let out a fearful yell, while his +revolver fell to the floor. There was a flash and +a crashing explosion in that confined space; the +weapon had been harmlessly discharged.</p> +<p>As for Dalton, he swayed dizzily for a few +seconds, trying to lift the injured foot. Then, +with a groan and a burst of ugly language, he +sank to the floor.</p> +<p>Hank darted in, securing his hitching weight +and backing off with it once more.</p> +<p>Though he had heard the discharge of the +pistol, Jim Hunter did not stop to reach for his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +own revolver. He leaped through into the corridor, +his pocket police club in hand.</p> +<p>“There he is, but you won’t have to club him +any,” announced Hank, dryly, pointing to the +groaning Dalton. “He’ll eat out of your hand, +now—will Anson Dalton.”</p> +<p>Pausing only to drop his club to the floor, +Jim Hunter whipped out a pair of handcuffs +from a cavernous pocket, bent over Dalton, +and––</p> +<p>Snap-click! The troublesome enemy of the +motor boat boys was not only badly hurt, but a +secure prisoner as well.</p> +<p>Now, Seaton and the boys gathered about the +law’s captive.</p> +<p>“I reckon you’ll have to git up,” announced +Jim Hunter, putting a helping hand under one +of Dalton’s arms.</p> +<p>“I can’t—oh, stop! Let up! My foot’s +crushed. I can’t stand on it!” yelled Dalton.</p> +<p>Hunter came quickly to realize the fact that +Dalton could not stand with much comfort. Joe +came up with a chair, onto which the prisoner +was allowed to sink.</p> +<p>“Oh, you boys think you’ve finished things +for me, don’t you?” leered Dalton, glaring +around him in a rage. “But you haven’t. +You’ll soon find that you’ve just begun to stir +up trouble for yourselves.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></p> +<p>“Go easy, man—do!” begged Hunter, soothingly. +“Of course yer pet corn feels bad just +now. But, say! That’s the niftiest way of stopping +a bad man, I reckon, thet was ever invented.”</p> +<p>“Is it?” groaned Dalton. Then, catching the +trace of a smirk in Hank’s eyes, the rascal shook +his fist at the steward of the “Restless,” snarling:</p> +<p>“I’ll find my own way to settle with you!”</p> +<p>“Take your time—when you’re feeling better,” +Hank begged, cheerfully.</p> +<p>Fair-haired, soft-voiced young Dawley had +followed the crowd out into the corridor. The +hotel clerk, the proprietor and three or four of +the servants all had increased the crowd there. +Dawley rapidly learned what had happened.</p> +<p>“It’s a beastly outrage,” he announced, his +soft voice sounding almost harsh in the indignation +that he felt.</p> +<p>“Oh, take a fan, Dolly, and go out on the +porch to cool off,” growled Joe Dawson.</p> +<p>One of the servants, in the excess of excitement, +actually took the fair-haired youth by the +shoulders, and, though the latter protested, +thrust him out through the open door onto the +porch, slamming the door after him.</p> +<p>“That’s too bad,” grinned Hank. “I’ll go +out and see if the poor fellow has fainted.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span></p> +<p>As Butts stepped out on the porch, closing the +door shut after him, Dawley, his cheeks very +red, leaped out from the chair into which he +had sunk.</p> +<p>“It was you who played that mean trick on +my friend,” cried Dawley, in a voice which he +fondly believed trembled with rage.</p> +<p>“Yes,” admitted Hank, meekly.</p> +<p>“I’ll punish you for that!” quivered the soft-voiced +one, stepping forward.</p> +<p>“Don’t strike me on the wrist,” pleaded +Hank. “I have rheumatism there.”</p> +<p>But Dawley, too angry, or else too dull to +understand that he was being made a mark +for ridicule, continued to advance upon Butts, +who retreated, a look of mock alarm in his +face.</p> +<p>“Keep away from me—please do, while +you’re angry,” begged Hank, still retreating.</p> +<p>“I won’t!” snapped Dawley. As Hank now +retreated rapidly backward, Dawley went after +him with corresponding speed.</p> +<p>“If you must have it, then, why—take it!” +cried Hank, in a tone of desperation.</p> +<p>One of his hands had been held under his +rain-coat all along. Now Hank thrust the other +hand inside, as well, to reach for some object +concealed there.</p> +<p>“Oh. O-o-oh! Don’t you drop that weight +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +on my foot!” yelled Dawley, blanching and falling +up against the wooden wall.</p> +<p>But Hank, ruthlessly, as one whose blood is +up, brought both his hands swiftly into view as +he sprang at Dawley. There was a yell from the +fair-haired one as Hank bent forward, then +dropped squarely on the toes of Dawley’s right +foot—his <i>pocket-handkerchief</i>!</p> +<p>“There, now!” mimicked Hank Butts, turning +on his heel.</p> +<p>A roar of laughter came from Mr. Seaton, +Tom, Joe and two or three of the bystanders +who had followed outside.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_CONCLUSION' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_CONCLUSION'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>CONCLUSION</h3> +</div> +<p>“I’m sorry, young man,” said Powell Seaton, +resting a hand on Dawley’s collar, “but +the chief of police wants to see you.”</p> +<p>“I’m not arrested, am I?” demanded the soft-voiced +one, in a tone of great alarm.</p> +<p>“I think not. But come along. The chief +wants to see you in the office.”</p> +<p>There they found Hunter and his manacled +prisoner, who had been carried into the office +just as he sat on the chair.</p> +<p>“Where’s that red bag that started all the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +trouble?” demanded Chief Hunter. Joe Dawson +produced it.</p> +<p>“You can’t open that,” leered Dalton, though +he spoke uneasily.</p> +<p>“If we can’t unlock it, we’ll cut it open with +a sharp breadknife,” mocked Hunter. “Yet I +reckon thet we’ll find the key in yer pocket.”</p> +<p>This guess turned out to be correct. The key +was inserted in the lock and the bag opened. +Powell Seaton pushed forward to help the police +official in the inspection of the contents.</p> +<p>“There are my papers,” cried Powell Seaton, +grabbing at two envelopes.</p> +<p>“Look ’em over, ef you want, but I reckon +I’ll haveter have ’em to go with the prisoner,” +assented Chief Hunter.</p> +<p>“They’re the same papers that this fellow +stole—one set from Clodis, and the other from +my bungalow through a helper,” cried Mr. +Seaton.</p> +<p>Anson Dalton watched Seaton with a strange, +sinister look.</p> +<p>“Gracious! Look at these, here!” gasped +Chief Hunter, opening a small leather case. +Nearly a score of flashing white stones greeted +his eyes.</p> +<p>“Di’munds, I reckon,” guessed the police +chief.</p> +<p>“Yes; Brazilian diamonds,” confirmed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +Powell Seaton. “Probably this prisoner’s +share or proceeds from smuggling in diamonds. +That business, then, was what the ‘Black Betty’ +was used for.”</p> +<p>“Those are the diamonds I came down here +to negotiate for,” broke in Dawley, wonderingly.</p> +<p>“You?” demanded Hunter, surveying the +soft-voiced one.</p> +<p>“Yes; my father is Dawley, the big jeweler +at Jacksonville,” explained the youth. “Here’s +his card. I’m the buyer for the house, and your +prisoner wrote that he had some fine stones to +sell.”</p> +<p>“They’re fine, all right, or I’m no judge of +Brazilian diamonds,” nodded Powell Seaton. +“But I guess the United States Government +owns them, now, as a confiscated prize.”</p> +<p>A carriage was brought around to the door, +and Anson Dalton was driven to the county jail, +eight miles away, to be locked up there pending +the arrival of United States officers.</p> +<p>Dawley easily proved his innocence, and the +truth of his own story. Despite his effeminate +manners and soft voice, it afterwards developed +that the youth was a skilled buyer of precious +stones, and a young man of no little importance +in the business community of his home town.</p> +<p>Following the swift succession of events at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +the little Florida town, there came a lull in the +long strain of excitement and danger.</p> +<p>Every now and then Dick Davis and Ab Perkins, +aboard the Rio-bound “Glide,” found a +chance to have a wireless message relayed back +to the United States.</p> +<p>These messages came in veiled language, according +to instructions, but they conveyed to +Powell Seaton the joyous news that these two +far-away members of the Motor Boat Club were +proceeding safely on their long journey, and +that no harm was happening to them, nor to the +precious papers in their care.</p> +<p>One fine day a cablegram came all the way +from Rio Janeiro which told that Dick and Ab +had reached that Brazilian city, and had turned +over the papers in their care to the waiting +American for whom they were intended.</p> +<p>A week after that came another cablegram, +announcing that the American syndicate had +succeeding in locating the lost diamond field, +and that papers for a proper patent were being +filed with the Brazilian Government.</p> +<p>Right on top of that came the news, in the +daily press, that Governor Terrero, of Vahia, +had been shot and killed by an escaped prisoner—a +former enemy whom the governor had +greatly and wickedly harassed.</p> +<p>Captain Dave Lemly was captured about this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +time. He and Dalton, it developed, had been +the principal American agents in a big scheme +for smuggling Brazilian diamonds into the +United States. The gems, it was shown, were +secretly shipped in quantities from Rio, aboard +a sailing ship. This ship, carrying a general +cargo, was always met near Beaufort by Lemly, +in the “Black Betty,” and the diamonds were +taken on the little black schooner. As the +“Black Betty” sailed as a fishing boat, Dave +Lemly had always been able to evade the American +customs authorities, and a hugely profitable +business in diamond smuggling had been +built up.</p> +<p>Governor Terrero, of the state of Vahia, +Brazil, it is supposed, was behind the southern +end of the smuggling scheme, though this has +not been proved. Dalton, acting as the governor’s +go-between and spy, had played his part +well and desperately. Yet now, in the end, Dalton +was convicted on the evidence furnished by +some of the members of the late crew of the +“Black Betty.” So was Lemly, and both are +now serving long sentences in prison, along with +the members of the crew of the smuggling +schooner.</p> +<p>Clodis recovered, after a few weeks. He was +handsomely rewarded by the new diamond syndicate +for the dangers through which he had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +run. He last remembered descending the stairs +to the “Constant’s” stairs, and had no recollection +of having been struck down.</p> +<p>All the members of the guard over at Lonely +Island were more than handsomely paid. Even +Jasper was forgiven, and well rewarded.</p> +<p>After he had been in prison some length of +time Anson Dalton one day confessed to Mr. +Seaton’s attorney that, while at sea on the drab +boat (which was afterwards found and confiscated +by the revenue people), he, Dalton, had +copied the stolen papers, intending to send one +set southward and retain the originals.</p> +<p>After losing both the “Restless” and the +“Glide” in the fog, Dalton had had Lemly put +in to shore. There they had been met by a +trusted Brazilian spy for Governor Terrero. +The Brazilian, with the copies of the papers, +had hurried to New York by train. This Brazilian +did not succeed in starting for Rio until +some days after the “Glide” had sailed, and, +moreover, he went on a slower boat. So, by +the time the Brazilian spy arrived at Rio, the +American syndicate had located the lost diamond +field, had filed patents with the Government, +and Terrero had died. So all of Anson +Dalton’s plotting had come to naught.</p> +<p>One of Powell Seaton’s first acts was to adjust +fully the claim of the Havana line for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +towing of the “Restless” through that fearful +northeast gale.</p> +<p>While waiting for the final news of the success +of his plans, the charter-man cruised much +up and down the coast with the boys of the +“Restless.” Then afterwards, through the +month of November, Seaton enjoyed another +cruise with them.</p> +<p>The charter money was not all that Captain +Tom, Engineer Joe and Steward Hank received +for their splendid work.</p> +<p>As soon as the final plans of the great new +American diamond syndicate at Rio Janeiro had +been established on a safe and firm basis, the +charter-man of the “Restless” was prepared to +talk of a splendid reward. His plans were so +big, in fact, that all three of the boys felt bound +to call a halt. Yet the reward that they <i>did</i> +finally accept made very important additions +to the bank accounts of all three of these daring +young motor boat navigators.</p> +<p>Dick Davis and Ab Perkins, on their return +from Rio, were “remembered” by Mr. Seaton +with bank drafts the size of which almost took +away their breath.</p> +<p>Then came a new cruise, a new set of adventures +in new surroundings. It was a cruise +which the many friends of our Motor Boat Club +boys will agree was the most wonderful, the most +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +exciting, and certainly the most mysterious lot +of adventures through which any member of +the Club ever passed. The details of what happened, +however, must be reserved for the next +volume in this series, which will be published +under the title: “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motor Boat Club in +Florida</span>; Or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator +Swamp.”</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em;'>[THE END]</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad1.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad2.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad3.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad4.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad5.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad6.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad7.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad8.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad9.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad10.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 0.21a --> +<!-- timestamp: Mon Mar 30 06:44:10 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless, by +H. 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