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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5df5f34 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50353 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50353) diff --git a/old/50353-0.txt b/old/50353-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 469ceaf..0000000 --- a/old/50353-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4510 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Troubled Waters, by Robert Leckie - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Troubled Waters - Sandy Steele Adventures #6 - - -Author: Robert Leckie - - - -Release Date: October 31, 2015 [eBook #50353] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROUBLED WATERS*** - - -E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 50353-h.htm or 50353-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/50353/50353-h/50353-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/50353/50353-h.zip) - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -Sandy Steele Adventures - -TROUBLED WATERS - - - * * * * * * - -SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES - -Black Treasure -Danger at Mormon Crossing -Stormy Voyage -Fire at Red Lake -Secret Mission to Alaska -Troubled Waters - - * * * * * * - - -Sandy Steele Adventures - -TROUBLED WATERS - -by - -ROGER BARLOW - - - - - - - -Simon and Schuster -New York, 1959 - -All Rights Reserved -Including the Right of Reproduction -in Whole or in Part in Any Form -Copyright © 1959 by Simon and Schuster, Inc. -Published by Simon and Schuster, Inc. -Rockefeller Center, 630 Fifth Avenue -New York 20, N. Y. - -First Printing - -Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 59-13882 -Manufactured in the United States of America -by H. Wolff Book Mfg. Co., Inc., New York - - - - -CONTENTS - - CHAPTER PAGE - 1 An Unusual Gift 9 - 2 Make Ready to Sail! 20 - 3 Shakedown Cruise 33 - 4 The Man with the Gun 51 - 5 Storm Fears 67 - 6 Something Lost—Something Found! 75 - 7 A Million Dollars’ Worth of Trouble 82 - 8 Double Blackout 87 - 9 To the Freighter 97 - 10 Aboard the Floating Prison 108 - 11 Escape to Danger 120 - 12 The Race Begins 136 - 13 A Race of Mistaken Identity 146 - 14 Slow-Motion Chase 153 - 15 Turn and Turn Again 160 - 16 The End of the Race 169 - 17 Another Discovery 177 - 18 Homeward Bound 183 - - [Illustration: CLIFFPORT CALIFORNIA] - - [Illustration: SLOOP] - - (1) _Mainsail_ - (2) _Jib_ - (3) _Mast_ - (4) _Boom_ - (5) _Shrouds_ (_standing rigging_) - (6) _Headstay_ ( ” ” ) - (7) _Backstay_ ( ” ” ) - (8) _Rudder_ - (9) _Tiller_ - (10) _Mainsheet_ - (11) _Hawk_ - (12) _Halyards_ - - - - - CHAPTER ONE - An Unusual Gift - - -Sandy Steele slowly put down the phone and pushed his blond cowlick back -from his brow. Excitement and confusion were mixed in equal parts in his -expression as he turned to his father, John Steele, who stood leaning -against his workbench, idly tossing a piece of quartz crystal in the -air. - -“Wow!” Sandy said. “Leave it to Uncle Russ to come up with a real -surprise!” - -“It certainly seems to be a habit of his,” John Steele smiled. “What do -you think of this particular surprise?” - -“I hardly know what to think,” Sandy answered. “The question is, what do -you and Mother think? I mean, is it all right if I go—if I can find -somebody to go with me?” - -“Your mother and I discussed this with your Uncle Russ before he called -you,” Sandy’s father said, “so I guess that’s one worry you don’t have -to consider. The only problem you have is finding somebody who knows how -to handle a boat, and who’ll be interested in making this trip with -you.” - -Wrinkling his forehead in thought, Sandy swung his gangling six-foot -frame up on to the workbench next to his father. “How about you, Dad?” -he asked. “Do you know anything about sailing a boat?” - -His father shook his head. “Sailing is hardly a skill that a government -field geologist needs to develop. My work is with rocks and minerals—the -dryest kind of dry land. What I know about water, you could carve on -granite and put in your watch pocket!” - -“Geology didn’t make you into an inventor, a chemist, an electrical -engineer, a carpenter and gosh knows what else,” Sandy answered, waving -around him at the crowded workshop with its confusing mass of equipment. -“I just thought you might have done some reading on this subject, too.” - -John Steele smiled. “As the proud but confused owner of a new sailboat, -one of the first things you’ll learn is that there’s a world of -difference between theory and practice. I’ve been out on a boat a few -times; years ago, though. I’ve also read some books on the subject, as -you thought. But all I know is that I don’t know anything.” He put down -the quartz crystal and moved away from the workbench. “No,” he said, “if -you’re going to be able to accept your Uncle Russ’s offer of a sailboat -as a gift, and if you’re going to sail it on a three-day trip down from -Cliffport, you’ll have to find someone with practical knowledge to help -you do it.” - -Sandy frowned in concentration. “Finding a sailor in Valley View is -going to be like finding a ski instructor in the Sahara Desert!” he -said. “Why, this town is almost one hundred miles inland from the -ocean!” - -“That’s true,” John Steele said; “but it seems to me that I once heard -you and one of your friends talking about sailing. If I’m not mistaken, -it was Jerry James, and it sounded to me at the time as if he knew what -he was talking about.” - -“Of course!” Sandy said, slapping his forehead in exasperation. “I don’t -know why I didn’t think of it! Jerry was a Sea Scout in Oceanhead before -his family moved to Valley View. It’s just that he’s become so much a -part of this town that I forget he didn’t grow up here with the rest of -us. I think he was a Sea Scout for about three years, and he had been -sailing before he ever joined up. I’m sure he can do it!” - -“Well,” his father said, “you’d better hunt him up fast and find out -whether he can and will. Your uncle expects us to call him back within a -couple of hours to give him an answer, because he’s leaving the country -in two days and he wants to get this settled before he goes.” - -He had hardly finished his sentence before Sandy was out of the -workshop, on his bike, and tearing down the tree-shaded street. He was -sure that Jerry would be able to do it! He remembered their conversation -well, now that his father had reminded him of it, and he recalled that -Jerry had said that he practically grew up on boats, and that they were -the only thing that he missed since moving to Valley View. In the close -friendship that had grown up between them in the last couple of years, -Sandy could not think of one time that Jerry had promised something that -he did not deliver. If he said he could do something, he could do it! -Sandy smiled, remembering Jerry’s early days in Valley View, his modest -admission that he “could play a little baseball,” and his first day on -the diamond. Jerry had immediately shown himself to be the best high -school catcher in the county. With Sandy as pitcher, they had developed -into an almost unbeatable battery. - -As he pedaled toward the drugstore owned by Jerry’s father, Sandy hoped -that they would be able to carry their teamwork on in this new venture. -He could still hardly believe his Uncle Russ’s offer of a sailboat, -provided he could find someone to teach him how to sail. Like most boys, -he had read and enjoyed sea stories, although many of the words used -were strange and meaningless to him. In his reading, he had often -pictured himself at sea, steering a tall ship through white-capped seas. -A confused series of sailing words went through his mind: bow, stern, -helm, topgallant sails, mizzen, poop deck, quarter-deck, galley, batten -the hatches, go aloft.... - -He was suddenly brought back to land as he narrowly missed running his -bike into Pepper March, who refused to hurry for a mere bike. Putting -the sea dreams firmly out of his mind, he continued more carefully until -he pulled up in front of James’s Drugstore, where he put his bike in the -rack under the green-and-white striped awning and hurried into the cool, -vanilla-smelling store. - -Jerry was behind the counter, making up a pineapple ice-cream soda for -Quiz Taylor who, with two empty glasses in front of him, was impatiently -waiting for the third. - -Sandy climbed onto the stool next to the stubby Quiz and impatiently -waited until Jerry was through making the soda. When the concoction was -safely delivered into Quiz’s eager hands, Sandy said, “Jerry, I’ve got -some real exciting news! In fact, it’s so exciting that I didn’t want to -tell you while you still had that soda in your hands. I was afraid you’d -toss the whole thing into the air!” - -Having firmly secured both his friends’ attention, Sandy told them about -the phone call from his Uncle Russ, the offer of the boat, the need for -instruction and the whole story. When he had finished, Jerry’s -lantern-jawed face was lit up with a 500-watt grin. - -“It sounds as if this is going to be the best vacation of my life!” he -said. “A boat! I can hardly wait to get going!” - -Sandy sighed with relief. “Then you’re sure you can handle it?” he -asked. - -“That’s a good question,” Jerry said, running a hand over his -close-cropped inky hair. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know because -you haven’t told me yet what kind of a boat it is. There are plenty that -I wouldn’t even say I could act as a decent crew member on. Do you know -what kind it is?” - -“Why ... why ... it’s a sailboat!” Sandy said. “I mean, that’s all I -know about it. Does it make much difference?” - -Jerry laughed. “There are almost as many different kinds of boats as -there are people,” he said. “Nobody but a real Master Mariner would just -answer that he could sail anything. It’s like being an airplane pilot. -If you got your pilot’s license flying a Piper Cub, you wouldn’t be -exactly ready to fly a four-engine jet bomber!” - -“Still,” Quiz interrupted thoughtfully, “the principle remains the same -in both. It’s simply a question of creating a high-speed airstream, so -directed as to pass over and under an aerodynamically shaped surface -which, because of the varying degree of arc and the cambered sections -and angle of attack, produces a lift, drag and momentum proportional to -the density of the air, the square of the speed and the area of the wing -or airfoil. It’s simple! What’s more, a sailboat works the same way.” -Looking pleased with himself, Quiz happily returned his attention to the -pineapple soda. - -“Why, Quiz!” Sandy said. “I didn’t know you could fly!” - -“Fly!” Quiz looked up from his soda with a grimace. “The very thought of -flying makes me sick. If I don’t hold on to the banister, I get dizzy -when I go up to bed at night!” - -All three boys laughed, for this side of Quiz’s personality was a -standing joke with them. Quiz, formally known as Clyde Benson Taylor, -was a virtual encyclopedia of obscure information. While he could tell -you vast amounts about nearly every human activity, the very idea of -taking part in an activity usually upset him. - -“So much for theory,” Jerry said. “Now, to get back to the practical -realities of sailing a boat—I’d have to know a few things about the kind -of sailboat you have before I’d be willing to give an answer. There are -all kinds of boats, of all different sizes. There are sloops, cats, -cutters, yawls, ketches, schooners and a hundred variations. Did your -Uncle Russ give you any idea of what he has for you?” - -“I think he said it was a sloop,” Sandy said. “And he did say that while -it was large enough to sleep on and take out on a cruise, it was a -pretty small boat. He said that anyone who knew how to sail would know -how to handle it.” - -“That sounds right to me,” Jerry said. “I didn’t think that he’d want to -start you off with a complicated rig or a big boat. If it’s the kind of -thing I think it is, I’m sure I can sail it, and teach you too.” - -“Will I have to learn all about yardarms and fore-topgallant sails and -things like that?” Sandy asked, somewhat doubtfully. - -“Not for quite a while,” Jerry laughed. “You’ve been reading too many -books about pirates and whalers in the old days. You only find all those -complicated sail and rigging names on the big square-rigged ships—the -ones with three and four masts. If your boat is a sloop, it only has one -mast, one mainsail, and a choice of maybe three other sails, flown one -at a time with the mainsail. There’s nothing much to learn compared with -the old full-rigged ships with up to four masts.” - -“Five,” Quiz said. - -“I never heard of one with more than four,” Jerry commented. - -As if he were reading from a book buried deep in his pineapple soda, -Quiz mumbled around the straws, “The steel ship _Preussen_ was the only -five-mast full-rigged ship ever built. It was 408 feet long, had masts -223 feet high, yardarms over 100 feet long and 47 sails totaling 50,000 -square feet.” - -Even though Sandy was used to this sort of thing from Quiz, he was more -impressed than usual. “How would you like to come with us, Quiz?” he -asked. - -“Who, me?” Quiz looked shocked. “I don’t know the first thing about -boats! No, thanks—I’ll stay safe ashore!” - -The next half hour was spent in excitedly discussing the trip to come, -the possibilities of sailing, the things Sandy would have to learn, and -the equipment that he and Jerry would have to take along. Finally Sandy -remembered that his Uncle Russ was expecting a phone call, and that -Jerry still had to get his parents’ permission to make the trip. They -agreed to go back to Sandy’s house and let John Steele make the call to -Jerry’s father so that the adults could satisfy themselves about the -wisdom of letting the boys take a three-day cruise for Sandy’s first -trip. - -Leaving Quiz in charge of the drugstore’s soda fountain, they quickly -hiked to the Steele home, where Sandy’s father agreed to make the call. - -Getting Jerry’s parents’ consent to the trip proved not to be a -difficult task. Mr. and Mrs. James obviously had a good deal of -confidence in Jerry’s ability to handle a sailboat, and both sets of -parents felt that their level-headed sixteen-year-olds could take such a -trip on their own. In short order, all of the details were worked out, -and Sandy was once more on the long-distance phone to speak with his -Uncle Russ in San Francisco. - -“It’s okay!” he shouted, as soon as his uncle answered the telephone. -“Jerry James, my best friend, used to be a Sea Scout and knows all about -boats. His parents say he’s a good sailor. We’re ready to start any time -you want!” - -He listened for a minute to his uncle, then said, “Swell! We’ll be -ready. And thanks a million for the boat!” Hanging up the phone, he -turned to his father, mother and Jerry with a wide grin. - -“Uncle Russ sure doesn’t waste any time,” he said. “He’s leaving now and -expects to be down here tonight. He says that we’d better get all packed -and ready, because he wants to take us up to Cliffport tomorrow morning, -and we’ll have to leave here by six o’clock!” - - - - - CHAPTER TWO - Make Ready to Sail! - - -“There’s one good thing about riding in this little sports car,” Sandy -said, and laughed as he eased his cramped six-foot length out of his -Uncle Russ’s low-slung red racer. “It’s going to make the sailboat seem -as roomy as a yacht in comparison!” - -Sandy pushed his cowlick out of his eyes and stretched as his uncle and -his friend Jerry followed him out of the little car. - -“Don’t worry about the size of the boat,” Jerry said. “I’ll guarantee -that it’s going to seem pretty big and complicated, no matter how small -it actually is, until you’ve learned how to sail it. In fact, you’re -going to find that a boat is a whole new world, full of all kinds of new -things to get used to. And from what your uncle told us about this one, -it’ll be more than big enough to keep us both busy for a couple of -summers to come.” - -“I feel as if we’re in a whole new world already,” Sandy replied, “and -we’re not even on board yet!” He looked about him at the beehive of -activity that was the Cliffport Boat Yard. “I’ve never seen anything -like this before!” - -From all sides came the sounds of hammering and sawing, and the thin -whine of electric sanders. The brisk, salty smell of the sea was mingled -with the sharp odors of paint, varnish and turpentine and the peculiar, -half-sweet smell of marine engine fuel. - -Boats of every size and description were ranged about them. Towering -high above them, resting in specially built cradles, were long hulls -with deep, weighted keels like giant fins under them. Heavy frames and -timbers held these boats upright, and ladders leaned against them to -where their decks joined their sides, high overhead. Men scrambled up -and down the ladders with tools and equipment, or sat on the scaffolds -and frames, painting. - -Smaller craft without keels were braced in cradles or frames on the -ground, or lay bottoms up on racks made of heavy beams that looked like -railroad ties. Some of the boats were having their bottoms scraped, some -were being sanded, others were in the process of painting. - -At one nearby boat, Sandy saw men hammering on the bottom of the hull -with big wooden mallets. Jerry explained that these were calking -hammers, and that they were used to drive oakum into the seams between -the planks to make the boats watertight for sailing. When the boats were -put in the water later on, he added, the planks would swell and form -waterproof joints where the planks met. - -On both sides, lines of railroad tracks led from the boat yard and the -big sheds straight down to the water’s edge and on into the water. Boats -on wheeled flatcars stood on the rails here and there, ready to be eased -down the tracks into the water for launching. Jerry explained how, when -the flatcars with their cradles had gone down the slope and were under -water, the boats simply floated away from them. Then the launching -device would be hauled back up the tracks for use on another boat. - -Sandy looked about him in bewilderment at the variety of boats in the -yard. There were small boats with one mast, larger ones with two, cabin -cruisers with no masts at all, and one sleek, beautiful, black-hulled -boat with three tall masts. He was just beginning to think that he had -found some relationship between the size of the boat and the number of -masts when he spotted what appeared to be one of the largest hulls in -the boat yard, with one immense mast. Next to it was a far smaller boat -with two. Sandy thought to himself that there didn’t appear to be any -simple rules to the business of boat designing. All in all the bustling -Cliffport Boat Yard was a thoroughly confusing sight for Sandy, and a -pretty exciting one, too. - -As a matter of fact, the entire last two days had been pretty confusing -and exciting, Sandy reflected. Just two days ago, he had started on his -spring vacation from Valley View High School with not a thing to do but -loaf around home. Now, suddenly, he was the owner of a sailboat he had -never seen, and he was preparing to take a two-hundred-mile cruise down -the coast! A two-hundred-mile cruise—and he had never even been on board -a sailboat! - -Looking at the maze of masts and rigging around him, Sandy sensed for -the first time some of the complications of handling a boat. Laying a -hand on his friend’s shoulder, he said, “Boy, Jerry, I sure hope you can -sail this boat alone! If what I see around me is a sample, I’m afraid -I’m going to be too confused to do more than just watch you and maybe -ask a few simple-minded questions!” - -“Don’t worry about it,” Jerry said with a grin. “It’s not anywhere near -as complicated as it looks at first sight. I learned to handle a boat -fairly well in just a few summers at the shore, plus some instruction in -the Sea Scouts, and I didn’t even have my own boat so that I could sail -regularly. One season of working your own boat will probably turn you -into a first-rate skipper!” - -Then Jerry frowned for a minute and ran his hand over his hair. -“Speaking of being a skipper,” he began awkwardly, “you realize, I -guess, that I’ll have to act as skipper of this boat at first? I mean, I -know it’s your boat and all, but....” - -Sandy laughed. “You go right ahead and take charge! I’ll be more than -happy to take orders from you. After all, somebody on board has to be in -charge, and it’s a good idea to have it be someone who knows what he’s -in charge of!” - -“Fine,” Jerry said, looking relieved. “If you just keep up that kind of -attitude, you’ll be the best kind of a crew member that any skipper -could ask for!” - -Sandy’s Uncle Russ had been waiting by his car while the boys had been -talking and taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the Cliffport -Boat Yard. Now he moved over to join them. “The trunk of the car is -open,” he said, “and your sea bags are in there. And that’s as much as I -intend to do about it. I don’t know much about sailors, but if they’re -anything at all like soldiers, they carry their own packs! Now let’s get -going!” - -The boys grinned sheepishly and ran to the back of the car to gather -their equipment, and Russell Steele relaxed and dropped his mock -military manner. An ex-general of the United States Army, he often -kidded Sandy and his friends by pretending that they were soldiers in -his command. This time, he reflected, it was very nearly true. In the -same way that a general must feel a responsibility toward the men he -sends out on a mission, Russell Steele felt responsible for Sandy and -Jerry as they were preparing to set out on this trip. - -After all, he reminded himself, the trip had been his idea, and the -sailboat had been his present to Sandy. He had been using the boat -during the last few months while doing some research on special -underwater equipment for the government, and now he no longer had any -need for it. As Vice President of World Dynamics Corporation, Russell -Steele was in charge of the New Projects Division. World Dynamics was a -sprawling concern with almost unlimited interests, often in the most -secret kinds of affairs, and his work with it often called him to -different parts of the world. He had found his stay in Cliffport a -pleasant change from some of the remote and often primitive places he -had been forced to settle in in the past. Now, however, he was off -again, to one more secret destination. He wouldn’t be in a position to -use a sailboat again for a long time to come. - -Sandy’s Uncle Russ had been brought up on the seacoast of California. -While his brother, Sandy’s father, had become fascinated with the rocks -and geological formations of the nearby mountains and deserts, he had -gone in the other direction to the shores of the Pacific. During nearly -all of his boyhood he had puttered around boats and boat yards. - -Although Russell Steele had spent most of his adult life in the Army -(and maybe because of it) he had always had a soft spot in his heart for -the sport of sailing. He had regretted that Sandy, his only nephew, -lived inland in Valley View where he was unable to share in this -enthusiasm. But Valley View was only a couple of hours from the seacoast -and now that Sandy was old enough to drive a car, it would be possible -for him to own and enjoy a sailboat. - -Uncle Russ thought of all this, and then he wondered whether it had been -a good idea to suggest that the boys bring the sloop all the way down -from Cliffport on their very first sail. Still, he mused, Jerry seemed -like a responsible lad, and he had said that he knew how to handle a -boat well enough to make such a trip. And Sandy learned fast and was -good with his hands. Well, the General thought to himself, we’ll just -have to give them their heads and let them try it to see how they make -out.... - -At that moment in his reflections, the boys joined him with their -luggage, and all three started through the boat yard to the waterfront. -As they picked their way through the clutter of boats, scrap lumber, -railroad tracks and equipment, they passed close by the side of a boat -standing on the ways about to be launched. Sandy ran his hand over the -gleaming paintwork of the hull, and found that it was as smooth as -glass. Jerry explained that great care was given to getting a smooth -paint job, because the greatest force working against a boat to slow it -down is the friction created by the water passing over the hull. Good -racing boats, he told Sandy, are hauled out of the water to be cleaned -and painted several times in a season. - -Their walk had by now led them down to the water’s edge, where they -walked along a weathered wharf. A light, early-morning haze made the -colors of the sailboats that floated in the bay seem soft and pale. The -water and the sky appeared to be one single surface, with no break or -horizon line to indicate where one stopped and the other began. The -boat-yard flag on its mast atop the main shed fluttered lazily in a mild -breeze, and a gentle ground swell made soft, lapping sounds under the -wharf. - -Strolling along, they came to a long, steeply sloping gangway that -descended to a floating dock, to which were tied several small sailboats -that rocked quietly on the smooth swell of Cliffport Bay. - -Russell Steele took his pipe out of his mouth and pointed with it. “See -there?” he said. “The third sloop—the one with the white hull and the -green decks and the varnished mast—that’s your new sailboat, Sandy, and -I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.” - -Before he had finished his sentence, Sandy and Jerry were down the steep -gangway, racing along the floating dock to where the trim, white sloop -was tied. Russ Steele smiled, replaced his pipe in his mouth, and -followed at a pace almost as fast as the boys’. - -“It’s a beauty!” Sandy panted, pushing his hair back from his eyes. -“What slick lines! And look at how roomy the cabin is! And look at the -height of the mast! And all that rigging!” - -His grin faded, and a look of bewilderment spread across his face. “Boy, -I can sure say that again! Just look at all that rigging! How am I -supposed to know what to do with what and when to do it, Jerry?” - -Jerry laughed, and jumped lightly into the small cockpit. “Come on -board, skipper, and we’ll start your first sailing lesson by showing you -around and telling you the names of things. It’s not half as complicated -as it looks. In fact, this sloop rig is just about the simplest there -is. As soon as you learn what to call things, you’ll have the hardest -part of the lesson over with.” - -Sandy followed Jerry into the cockpit, then paused to turn and face his -uncle, who was still standing on the dock. “How about you, Uncle Russ?” -he asked. “Will you stick around for a little while and take the first -sail with us?” - -“Thanks for asking, Sandy,” Russell Steele answered, “but much as I’d -like to come along with you, I can’t manage it. I have to be back in my -office this afternoon for an important conference. In fact, I’ll just -about make it if I get started now. But before I get under way, and -before you get carried away with the fine art of sailing, there are a -few things that you’ll need to know.” - -He talked rapidly and uninterruptedly for about five minutes and, when -he had finished, Sandy appreciated for the first time how thoroughly -well-organized his Uncle Russ was. His preparations for the boys’ trip -had been complete in every last detail. Russell Steele’s practiced -military mind had reviewed the situation and had missed nothing that -might be needed. - -The sailboat had been fully provisioned for more than a week of sailing, -and had been equipped for every possible emergency as well as for a -routine and pleasant cruise. The small cabin contained an alcohol -cookstove and a good supply of canned food. Every locker and storage -place was full, and everything put on board had been chosen with care -and an eye for both comfort and necessity. - -A complete tool chest was stowed in its cubby with several boxes of -spare hardware, ship fittings, nuts and bolts, wire and odd tackle. A -drawer under one of the bunks contained a whole assortment of fishing -equipment. Another carried an odd mixture of things that the boys might -want, even including clothespins for drying garments, and a sewing kit. -A specially made bag contained another sewing kit, this one for sails -and canvas repair. - -In a narrow, hanging locker in the forward part of the cabin were two -complete foul-weather suits consisting of waterproof pants and jackets -with hoods. Below them were two pairs of sea boots. - -Opposite this was the small enclosed “head,” sailor’s word for bathroom. -No bigger than a telephone booth, it still managed to contain a toilet -and a sink, plus a cabinet for medicines and first-aid supplies and -another for towels, soap, toothbrushes and the like. - -“The only things that you won’t find on board yet,” Russell Steele -concluded, “are your sleeping bags and your air mattresses. I’ve ordered -special ones that the local store didn’t have in stock, and they’re not -due to arrive until tomorrow. For tonight, you’ll have to plan on -sleeping ashore, but I’ve taken care of that for you, too. I’ve got a -room reserved for you at the Cliffport Hotel. After tomorrow, you can -sleep on board, like sailors.” - -He scowled at his pipe for several seconds, as if he hoped to see in it -some hint of anything that he might have forgotten to take care of, and -he mentally checked each item again. Sails okay? Charts and navigating -instruments in place? Food? Tools? Spare lines? Life jackets? Oars for -the dinghy? Cleaning equipment? Sea anchor? Everything checked out. At -last, satisfied that all was in good order, he smiled and clamped the -pipe in his teeth again. - -“I think,” he said, “the only thing I’ve forgotten is the seagoing way -to say goodbye!” - -He settled for “Ahoy!” and “Smooth sailing!” and, brushing off Sandy’s -thanks, walked briskly up the gangway without turning back. - -The boys watched him as he turned the corner of the main shed and walked -out of sight, then they gave all their attention to a close survey of -their new floating home. - - - - - CHAPTER THREE - Shakedown Cruise - - -“Well, Jerry, what do you think of it?” Sandy asked his friend, as he -cast a proud eye along the sleekly shaped length of the little sloop. - -“Not ‘it,’” Jerry said. “You should say ‘her.’ You always call boats -‘she’ or ‘her,’ though I’ve never met a sailor who could tell you why.” - -Jerry looked critically down the twenty-four-foot length of the sloop. -“She looks really seaworthy,” he said, “and she looks pretty fast, too. -Of course, this is not a racing boat, you know. They use this kind -mostly for day sailing and for short cruises. Even so, she looks as if -she’ll go. Of course, we can’t really tell until we’ve tried her, and I -don’t think we’ll be ready to try anything fast for a little while yet.” - -Noticing the flicker of disappointment that crossed Sandy’s face, Jerry -added, “I’d rather have a boat like this than any racing machine ever -built. And I’m not saying that just to make you feel better about not -having a racer. There’s not much difference in actual speed between a -really fast boat and an ordinary good boat of the same size. But there -sure is a lot of difference in comfort. And I like my comfort when I go -for a cruise.” - -“Why should a racing boat be uncomfortable?” Sandy asked. - -“It’s not uncomfortable for racing, or for day sailing,” Jerry answered, -“but a racing boat of this size wouldn’t be fitted out for cruising at -all. You see, to get the most speed out of a boat, designers make sure -that the hull is kept as light as possible and as streamlined as -possible, too. A light hull will ride with less of its surface in the -water, and that cuts down on the amount of friction. You remember what I -told you about friction before?” - -Sandy nodded, and Jerry went on. “Streamlining the hull shape helps it -to cut through the water without making a lot of waves at the bow to -hold it back. Not only that, but to make the boat really as fast as -possible, most designers want to streamline the decks, too. That way, -even the air resistance is lowered. Well, when you streamline the hull, -you make less cabin space below. Then when you streamline the decks, you -have to lower the cabin roof so that it’s level with the decks. You can -see that in a small boat like this, you wind up with no cabin at all.” - -“I see,” Sandy said. “But how does the lightness of the hull affect -comfort? I’m not so sure I understand that.” - -“When you have a light hull,” Jerry replied, “it’s a good idea to keep -it light. If you overload it, you lose the advantage you built into it -in the first place. That means that you can’t carry all the stuff we -have on board to make for comfortable, safe cruising. Our bunks, the -galley, the head, the spare anchor, all the tools and supplies—it adds -up to a lot of weight. If you want a really fast boat, you have to leave -all that stuff behind.” - -“Then if this were a racing boat,” Sandy said, “we wouldn’t have -anything more than a small cockpit and a lot of deck, with a little -storage space! No wonder you said you’d rather have a boat like this! -But there’s one thing I’d still like to know. You said that there wasn’t -much difference in real speed between a racing boat and an ordinary good -boat. How much is ‘not much’?” - -Jerry thought for a minute. “Well—” he said, at length—“I’d have to know -a lot more about boat design than I know to give you an accurate answer, -but I can give you a rough idea. This is a twenty-four-foot boat. If it -were a racing hull, you might get eight and a half or maybe even nine -knots out of it under ideal conditions. For practical purposes, you can -figure eight or less. A knot, by the way, is a nautical mile, and it’s a -little more than a regular mile. When you say eight knots, you mean -eight nautical miles an hour.” - -“But that’s not fast!” Sandy objected. “You said that’s what a fast -racing boat would do!” - -Jerry smiled. “Believe me, Sandy,” he said, “when your boat is heeling -way over and your decks are awash and your sails are straining full of -wind, it seems like an awful lot of speed! You’ll see when we get out -today. Besides, speed is all relative. A really dangerous speed on a -bike would seem like a slow crawl in a car.” - -“I guess you’re right,” Sandy answered. “But you didn’t tell me how fast -this boat will go, compared to a racer.” - -“I think we’ll get five or six knots out of her,” Jerry replied -thoughtfully. “That’s not fast, but it’s only a couple of knots slower -than the fastest. You see now what I mean?” - -Sandy nodded, then said, “I’m with you, Jerry. Now that I know a little -bit about it, I sure think you’re right. I’d much rather have a boat we -can sleep on and take on trips up and down the coast than a racer that -doesn’t even go so fast! Besides, I’d be pretty foolish to think about -any other kind of boat at all, wouldn’t I? I don’t even have the least -idea of how to sail this one yet! Come on, Jerry, start showing me!” - -As Jerry carefully explained the different parts of the rigging, the -complicated-looking series of wires and ropes around the mast began to -look a whole lot simpler to Sandy. The first thing he learned was that -not much of the rigging moved or was used for actual sailing of the -boat. The parts that didn’t move were called “standing rigging,” and if -you eliminated them from your thoughts, it made the “running rigging” -comparatively easy to understand. - -“You have to learn about the rigging first,” Jerry said. “The idea is -simple enough. The standing rigging is used to support the mast and keep -it from bending to either side or to the front or back when the sails -start to put pressure on it. The standing rigging is every line or cable -you see that comes from the top of the mast or near it down to the outer -edge of the deck or to the bow or stern.” - -Sandy looked about the little sloop, and noticed that this seemed to -take care of more than half of what he saw. - -“The running rigging,” Jerry went on, “is used to raise and lower the -sails and to control their position to catch the wind when you’re -sailing. The lines that are used to raise and lower the sails on the -mast are called halyards. They work just like the ropes on a flagpole. -The other kind of running rigging—the lines used to control the way the -sails set—are called sheets. You’d think that a sheet was a sail, -wouldn’t you? It isn’t, though. It’s the line that controls a sail.” - -“I think I understand so far,” Sandy said, “but don’t you think it would -be easier for me to learn if we went out for a sail and I could see -everything working?” - -“Right,” Jerry said. “That’s just what I was going to say next. Telling -you this way makes me feel too much like a schoolteacher!” - -Jerry decided that it would not be a good idea to try to sail away from -the dock, because the part of the harbor they were in was so crowded. -There would be little room to maneuver with only the light morning winds -to help them. The best thing to do, he concluded, was to move the boat -to a less crowded part of the harbor. At the same time, he would teach -Sandy the way to get away from a mooring. In order to do all this, Jerry -explained, they would row out in the dinghy, towing the sloop behind -them. Once out in open water, they would tie the dinghy behind them and -pull it along as they sailed. - -Together they unlashed the dinghy, which was resting on chocks on the -cabin roof. Light and easy to handle, the dinghy was no trouble at all -to launch, and in a minute it was floating alongside, looking like a -cross between a canoe and a light-weight bathtub. - -Getting into the dinghy carefully, so as not to upset its delicate -balance, they untied the sloop from the dock. Then they fastened the bow -line of the sloop to a ring on the stern of the dinghy, got out the -stubby oars and started to row. - -At first, it took some strong pulling at the oars to start the sailboat -moving away from the dock, and Sandy feared that they would tip over the -frail cockleshell of the dinghy. But once the sloop started to move, -Sandy found that it took surprisingly little effort to tow it along. It -glided easily behind them, its tall mast swaying overhead, as they rowed -slowly out into the waters of Cliffport Bay. - -“We’ll find an empty mooring, and tie up for a few minutes,” Jerry said. -“I don’t think that anyone will mind. I want to show you the method -we’ll use most of the time for getting under way.” He pointed to the -anchorage area, or “holding ground,” as it was called, and Sandy noticed -several blocks of painted wood floating about. They had numbers, and -some had small flags on them. “Those are moorings,” Jerry explained. -“They’re just permanent anchors, with floats to mark the spot and to -hold up the end of the mooring line. Every boat owner has his own -mooring to come in to. The people who own these empty moorings are -probably out sailing for the day, and we won’t interfere if we use one -for a while.” - -Easing back on the oars, they let the sloop lose momentum and came to a -natural stop near one of the moorings. They transferred the bow line -from the dinghy to the mooring and made the sloop fast in its temporary -berth. Then they climbed back on board and tied the dinghy behind them. -Jerry explained that a long enough scope of line should be left for the -dinghy so as to keep it from riding up and overtaking the sloop, as -accidents of this sort have been known to damage the bow of a fragile -dinghy. - -This done, Jerry busied himself by unlashing the boom and the rudder to -get them ready to use, while Sandy went below for the sail bags. These -were neatly stacked in a forward locker, each one marked with the name -of the type of sail it contained. He selected the ones marked “main” and -“jib,” as Jerry had asked him to, and brought them out into the cockpit. - -Making the mainsail ready to hoist, Sandy quickly got the knack of -threading the sail slides onto the tracks on the mast and the boom. He -worked at this while Jerry made the necessary adjustments to the -halyards and fastened them to the heads of the sails. When this job was -done, Sandy slid the foot of the sail aft along the boom, and Jerry made -it fast with a block-and-tackle arrangement which was called the “clew -outhaul.” - -“Now,” Jerry said, when they had finished, “it’s time to hoist the -mainsail!” - -“What about the mooring?” Sandy asked. “Don’t you want me to untie the -boat from it first?” - -“Not yet,” Jerry answered. “We won’t do that until we’re ready to go.” - -“But won’t we start going as soon as we pull up the mainsail?” said -Sandy, puzzled. - -“No,” Jerry said. “Nothing will happen when we hoist the sail. It’s like -raising a flag. The flag doesn’t fill with wind and pull at the flagpole -like a sail, does it? It just points into the wind and flutters. That’s -just what the mainsail will do. You see, the boat is already pointing -into the wind, because the wind has swung us around on the mooring. You -look around and you’ll see that all the boats out here are heading in -the exact same direction, toward the wind. When we hoist the sail, it’ll -act just like a flag, and flap around until we’re ready to use it. Then -we’ll make it do what we want it to by using the jib and controlling its -position with the sheets. Look.” - -Jerry hauled on the main halyard, and the sail slid up its tracks on the -mast, squeaking and grating. As it reached the masthead, it fluttered -and bellied loosely in the wind, doing nothing to make the boat move in -any direction. Motioning to Sandy to take his place tugging at the -halyard, Jerry jumped down into the cockpit. - -The halyard ran from the pointed head of the sail up through a pulley at -the top of the mast, then down to where Sandy was hauling on it. Below -his hands, it passed through another pulley near Sandy’s feet, then back -along the cabin roof. Jerry, from his position in the cockpit, grabbed -the end of the halyard and hauled tight, taking the strain from Sandy. -Then he tied it down to a wing-shaped cleat on the cabin roof near the -cockpit. - -This was done with a few expert flips of the wrist. The mainsail was up, -and tightly secured. - -“There,” Jerry said. “Now we’re almost ready. We won’t move at all until -we get the jib up, and even then we won’t move unless we want to. When -we want to, we’ll untie from the mooring and get away as neat as you -please.” - -They then took the jib out of its sail bag and made ready to hoist it. -Instead of securing to the mast with slides on a track the way the -mainsail had, the jib had a series of snaps stitched to its forward -edge. These were snapped around the steel wire forestay, a part of the -standing rigging that ran from the bow of the boat to a position high up -on the mast. The jib halyard was fastened to the head of the jib, the -snaps were put in place, and a few seconds of work saw the jib hanging -in place, flapping before the mast. Then Jerry asked Sandy to pick up -the mooring that they had tied to, and to walk aft with it. - -“When you walk aft with the mooring,” Jerry explained, “you actually put -some forward motion on the boat. Then, when you get aft and I tell you -to throw the mooring over, you put the bow a little off the wind by -doing it.” - -Sandy untied the bow line from the mooring, and walked to the stern of -the boat, holding the mooring float as he had been told. Then, when -Jerry said “Now!” he threw the mooring over with a splash. - -“With the jib flying and the boat free from the mooring and no longer -pointing directly into the wind,” Jerry said, “the wind will catch the -jib and blow our bow even further off. At the same time, I’ll steer to -the side instead of straight ahead. As soon as our bow is pointing -enough away from the wind, the breeze will strike our sails from one -side, and they’ll start to fill. When the sails have caught the wind -right, I’ll ease off on the rudder, and we’ll be moving ahead.” - -By this time, the morning haze had “burned off” and the light breeze had -freshened into a crisp, steady wind. As the head of the little sloop -“fell away” from the direction from which the wind was coming, the sails -swelled, the boat leaned slightly to one side, and a ripple of waves -splashed alongside the hull. Sandy looked back and saw that the bow of -the dinghy, trailing behind them, was beginning to cut a small white -wave through the water. - -“We’re under way!” Jerry cried. “Come on over here, skipper! You take -the tiller and learn how to steer your boat while I handle the sails and -show you what to do!” - -Sandy slid over on the stern seat to take Jerry’s place, and held the -tiller in the position he had been shown, while Jerry explained how to -trim the sails and how to go where you wanted to go instead of where the -wind wanted to take you. - -“I’ll take care of the sail trimming,” Jerry said. “All you have to do -is keep the boat heading on the course she’s sailing now. The wind is -pretty much at our backs and off to the starboard side. You have to keep -it that way, and especially keep the stern from swinging around to face -the wind directly. It’s not hard to do. Just pick a landmark and steer -toward it.” - -He looked ahead to where a point of land jutted out some miles off the -mainland. A lighthouse tower made an exclamation mark against the sky. - -“Just steer a little to the right of that,” he said, “and we can’t go -wrong.” - -“What if the wind shifts?” Sandy asked. “How can we tell?” - -Jerry pointed to the masthead, where a small triangular metal flag -swung. “Just keep an eye on that,” he said. “It’s called a hawk, and -it’s a sailor’s weathervane.” - -“With one eye on the lighthouse and one eye on the masthead,” Sandy -laughed, “I’m going to look awfully silly!” - -He leaned back in the stern seat with the tiller tucked under his arm. -The little sloop headed steadily for the lighthouse, steering easily. -Every few seconds, Sandy glanced at the hawk to check the wind. He -grinned and relaxed. He was steering his own boat! The sail towered tall -and white against the blue sky above him and the water gurgled alongside -and in the wake behind where the dinghy bobbed along like a faithful -puppy. - -“This is the life!” he sighed. - -Jerry pointed out a handsome, white-hulled, two-masted boat approaching -them. “Isn’t that a beauty?” he said. “It’s a ketch. On a ketch, the -mainmast is taller than the mizzen. That’s how you tell the difference.” - -“How do you tell the difference between the mainmast and the mizzen?” -Sandy asked. “You’re going to have to start with the simplest stuff with -me.” - -“The mainmast is always the one in front, and the mizzen is always the -one aft,” Jerry explained. “A ketch has a taller main; a schooner has a -taller mizzen; a yawl is the same as a ketch, except that the mizzen is -set aft of the tiller. Got it?” - -Sandy shook his head and wondered if he would ever get all of this -straight in his head. It was enough trying to learn the names of things -on his own boat without worrying about the names of everything on other -boats in the bay. - -As the ketch sailed by, the man at her tiller waved a friendly greeting. -The boys waved back and Sandy watched the big ketch go smoothly past, -wondering how much harder it might be to sail a two-masted boat of that -size than it was to sail a relatively small sloop such as his own. -Certainly it could not be as simple as the sloop, he thought. Why this -little sailboat was a whole lot easier than it had seemed to be at -first. As a matter of fact.... - -“Duck your head!” Jerry yelled. - -Not even stopping to think, Sandy dropped his head just in time to avoid -being hit by the boom, which whizzed past barely a few inches above him! -With a sharp crack of ropes and canvas, the sail filled with wind on the -opposite side of the boat from where it had been a moment before, and -the sloop heeled violently in the same direction. Jerry grabbed at the -tiller, hauled in rapidly on the mainsheet, and set a new course. Then, -calming down, he explained to Sandy what had happened. - -“We jibed,” he said. “That means that you let the wind get directly -behind us and then on the wrong side of us. The mainsail got the wind on -the back of it, and the wind took it around to the other side of the -boat. Because the sheets were let out all the way, there was nothing to -restrain the sail from moving, and by the time it got over, it was going -at a pretty fast clip. You saw the results!” - -Jerry adjusted the mainsail to a better position relative to the wind, -trimming it carefully to keep it from bagging, then he went on to -explain. “A jibe can only happen when you’ve got the wind at your back. -That’s called sailing downwind, or sailing before the wind, or running -free. It’s the most dangerous point of sail, because of the chance of -jibing. When the wind is strong, an uncontrolled jibe like the one we -just took can split your sails, or ruin your rigging, or even snap your -boom or your mast. Not to mention giving you a real bad headache if -you’re in the way of that boom!” - -“I can just imagine,” Sandy said, thinking of the force with which the -boom had whizzed by. Then he added, “You said something about an -‘uncontrolled jibe,’ I think. Does that mean that there’s some way to -control it?” - -“I should have said an accidental jibe instead of an uncontrolled one,” -Jerry said. “A deliberate or planned jibe is always controlled, and it’s -a perfectly safe and easy maneuver. All you have to do is to haul in on -the sheet, so that the boom won’t have any room for free swinging. Then -you change your course to the new tack, let out the sail, and you’re off -with no trouble.” - -Sandy grinned. “I’m afraid that description went over my head as fast as -the boom did—only a whole lot higher up!” - -“Things always sound complicated when you describe them,” Jerry said, -“but we’ll do a couple later, and you’ll see how it works.” - -“Fine,” Sandy agreed. “But until we do, how can I keep from doing any -more of the accidental variety?” - -“The only way to avoid jibing,” Jerry replied, “is never to let the wind -blow from the same side that the sail is set on. This means that if you -feel the wind shift over that way, you have to alter your course quickly -to compensate for it. If you don’t want to alter your course, then you -have to do a deliberate jibe and alter the direction of the sail. All it -means is that you have to keep alert at the tiller, and keep an eye on -the hawk, the way I told you, so that you always know which direction -the wind is blowing from.” - -“I guess I was getting too much confidence a lot too soon,” Sandy -admitted, shamefaced. “There’s obviously a lot more to this sailing -business than I was beginning to think. Anyway, a jibe is one thing I -won’t let happen again. I’ll stop looking at other boats for a while, -and pay more attention to this one! There’s more than enough to look at -here, I guess.” - -Once more, Sandy cautiously took the tiller from Jerry. Then he grinned -ruefully and said, “Just do me one favor, will you, Jerry?” - -“Sure. What?” - -“Just don’t call me ‘skipper’ any more. Not for a while, at least!” - - - - - CHAPTER FOUR - The Man with the Gun - - -“Just keep her sailing on this downwind course,” Jerry said. “Head for -that lighthouse the way you were before, and keep an occasional eye on -the hawk. As long as the wind isn’t dead astern, we shouldn’t have any -more jibing troubles. As soon as we get out into open water, we’ll find -an easier point of sail. We can’t do that until we’re clear of the -channel, though. When we are, we’ll reach for a while, and then I’ll -show you how to beat.” - -“What’s reaching?” Sandy asked. “And what’s beating? And how do you know -when we’re out of the channel into open water? And how do you even know -for sure that we’re in the channel now? And how....” - -“Whoa! Wait a minute! Let’s take one question at a time. A reach is when -you’re sailing with the wind coming more from the side than from in -front or from behind the boat. Beating is when the wind is more in front -than on the side, and you have to sail into it. Beating is more like -work than fun, but a reach is the fastest and easiest kind of a course -to sail. That’s why I want to reach as soon as we’re out in open water -where we can pick our direction without having to worry about channel -markers.” - -“How come reaching is the fastest kind of course to sail?” Sandy asked. -“I would have guessed that sailing downwind with the wind pushing the -boat ahead of it would be the fastest.” - -“It sure seems as if it ought to work that way,” Jerry said with a grin. -“But you’ll find that sailboat logic isn’t always so simple or easy. -When you’re running free in front of the wind, you can only go as fast -as the wind is blowing. When you’re reaching, you can actually sail a -lot faster than the wind.” - -“I’m afraid that I don’t understand that,” Sandy said. “How does it -work?” - -Jerry paused and thought for a minute. “You remember what Quiz said -about the sailboat working like an airplane? Well, he made it sound -pretty tough to understand, what with all his formulas and proportions, -but actually he was right. A sail is a lot like an airplane wing, except -that it’s standing up on end instead of sticking out to one side. Well, -you know that the propellers on a plane make wind, and that the plane -flies straight into that wind. You see, the wind that comes across the -wing makes a vacuum on top of the wing surface, and the plane is drawn -up into the vacuum. You get a lot more lift that way than if the -propellers were under the wing and blowing straight up on the bottom of -it.” - -“I see that,” Sandy said. “And a propeller blowing under a wing would be -pretty much the same as a wind blowing at the back of a sail. Right?” - -“Right!” Jerry said, looking pleased with his teaching ability. “Now you -have the idea. When you have a sail, like a wing standing up, the air -that passes over the sail makes a vacuum in front and pulls the boat -forward into it. Actually, the vacuum pulls us forward and to one side, -the same as the wind from the propeller makes the plane go forward and -up. We use the rudder and the keel to keep us going more straight than -sideways.” - -Sandy shook his head as if to clear away cobwebs. “I think that I -understand now, but it’s still a little hazy in my mind. Maybe I’ll do -better if you don’t tell me about the theory, and I just see the way it -works.” - -“Could be,” Jerry said. “There are lots of old-time fishermen and other -fine sailors who have absolutely no idea of how their boats work, and -who wouldn’t know a law of physics or a principle of aerodynamics if it -sat on their mastheads and yelled at them like a sea gull! They just do -what comes naturally, and they know the way to handle a boat without -worrying about what makes it run.” - -Still heading on their downwind course, they passed several small -islands and rocks, some marked with lights and towers, some with bells -or floating buoys. They seemed to slide by gracefully as the little -sloop left the mainland farther behind in its wake. - -“Before we get out of the channel,” Jerry said, “I want to show you some -of the channel markers and tell you about how to read them. They’re the -road signs of the harbors, and if you know what they mean and what to do -about them, you’ll never get in any trouble when it comes to finding -your way in and out of a port.” - -He pointed to a nearby marker that was shaped like a pointed rocket nose -cone floating in the water. It was painted a bright red, and on its side -in white was painted a large number 4. - -“That’s called a nun buoy,” Jerry told Sandy. “Now look over there. Do -you see that black buoy shaped just like an oversized tin can? That’s -called a can buoy. The cans and the nuns mark the limits of the channel, -and they tell you to steer between them. The rule is, when you’re -leaving a harbor, to keep the red nun buoys on your port side. That’s -the left side. When you’re entering a harbor, keep the red nun buoys on -your starboard side. The best way to remember it is by the three R’s of -offshore navigating: ‘Red Right Returning.’” - -Sandy nodded. “I understand that all right,” he said. “But what are the -numbers for?” - -“The numbers are to tell you how far from the harbor you are,” Jerry -said. “Red nun buoys are always even-numbered, and black cans are always -odd-numbered. They run in regular sequence, and they start from the -farthest buoy out from the shore. For example, we just sailed past red -nun buoy number 4. That means that the next can we see will be marked -number 3, and it will be followed by a number 2 nun and a number 1 can. -After we pass the number 1 can, we’ll be completely out of the channel, -and we’ll have open water to sail in.” - -“Do they have the same kind of markers everywhere,” Sandy asked, “or do -you have to learn them specially for each port that you sail in?” - -“You’ll find the same marks in almost every place in the world,” Jerry -said. “But you won’t have to worry about the world for a long while. The -important thing is that the marking and buoyage system is the same exact -standard for every port in the United States and Canada.” - -“What’s that striped can I see floating over there?” Sandy asked, -pointing. - -Jerry looked at the buoy. “That’s a special marker,” he answered. “All -of the striped buoys have some special meaning, and it’s usually marked -on the charts. They’re mostly used to mark a junction of two channels, -or a middle ground, or an obstruction of some kind. You can sail to -either side of them, but you shouldn’t go too close. At least that’s the -rule for the horizontally striped ones. The markers with vertical -stripes show the middle of the channel, and you’re supposed to pass them -as close as you can, on either side.” - -Another few minutes of sailing brought them past the last red buoy, and -they were clear of the marked channel. From here on they were free to -sail as they wanted, in any direction they chose to try. - -For the next hour they practiced reaching. With the wind blowing -steadily from the starboard side, the trim sloop leaned far to the port -until the waves were creaming almost up to the level of the deck. Jerry -explained that this leaning position, called “heeling,” was the natural -and proper way for a sailboat to sit in the water. The only way that a -boat could sail level, he pointed out, was before the wind. With the -boat heeling sharply and the sails and the rigging pulled tight in the -brisk breeze, Sandy really began to feel the sense of speed on the -water, and understood what Jerry had told him about speed being -relative. - -After they had practiced on a few long reaches, Jerry showed Sandy how -to beat or point, which is the art of sailing more or less straight into -the wind. - -“Of course you can’t ever sail straight into the wind,” Jerry said. “The -best you can do is come close. If you head right into it, the sails will -just flap around the way that they did when we were pointing into the -wind at the mooring. You’ve got to sail a little to one side.” - -“Suppose you don’t want to go to one side?” Sandy asked. “If the wind is -blowing straight from the place you want to get to, what do you do about -it?” - -“You have to compromise,” Jerry replied. “You’ll never get there by -aiming the boat in that direction. What you have to do is sail for a -point to one side of it for a while, then come about and sail for a -point on the other side of it for a while. It’s a kind of long zigzag -course. You call it tacking. Each leg of the zigzag is called a tack.” - -Sailing into the wind, they tacked first on one side, then on the other. -Each time they came about onto a new tack, the mainsail was shifted to -the other side of the boat, and the boat heeled in the same direction as -the sail. The jib came about by itself, just by loosening one sheet and -taking up on the other one. Soon Sandy was used to the continual -shifting and resetting of the sails, and to the boom passing back and -forth overhead. - -Suddenly Sandy pointed and clapped Jerry on the shoulder with -excitement. “Look!” he cried. “There’s a whole fleet of boats coming -this way! They look just like ours! And they’re racing!” - -Jerry looked up in surprise. “They sure are racing! And they are just -like this one! I guess I was wrong when I said they didn’t race this -kind of boat. This must be a local class, built to specifications for -local race rules. Boy, look at them go! I was wrong about not racing -them, but I sure was right when I said that she looked fast!” - -The fleet of sloops swept past, heeling sharply to one side, with the -crews perched on the high sides as live ballast, and the water foaming -white along the low decks which were washed over completely every moment -or so. The helmsmen on the nearest of the boats grinned at them and -waved an invitation to come along and join the regatta, but neither -Jerry nor Sandy felt quite up to sailing a race just yet. - -As they watched their white-sailed sisters fly down the bay, Sandy felt -for the first time the excitement that could come from handling a boat -really well. He turned to his own trim craft with renewed determination -to learn everything that Jerry could teach him, and maybe, in due time, -a whole lot more than that. - -The next few hours were spent in happily exploring Cliffport Bay and -trying the sloop on a variety of tacks and courses to learn what she -would do. Eventually, the sun standing high above the mast, they -realized almost at the same time that it was definitely time for lunch. - -Jerry took the helm and the sheet while Sandy went below to see what the -boat’s food locker could supply. In a few minutes, he poked his head out -of the cabin hatch and shook it sadly at Jerry. “It looks as if Uncle -Russ didn’t think of everything, after all. There’s plenty of food all -right, but there’s not a thing on board to drink. The water jugs are -here, but they’re bone-dry, and I’m not exactly up to eating peanut -butter sandwiches without something to wash them down!” - -“Me either!” said Jerry, shuddering a little at the thought. “Of course, -we could settle on some of the juice from the canned fruits I saw in -there, but we haven’t taken on any ice for our ice chest, and that’s all -going to be pretty warm. In any case, we ought to have some water on -board. I think we’d better look for a likely place near shore where we -can drop anchor. Then we can take the dinghy in to one of the beach -houses and fill up our jugs.” - -“Good idea,” Sandy agreed. “And that way we can eat while we’re at -anchor, and not have to worry about sailing and eating at the same -time.” - -Several small islands not too far away had houses on them, and the boys -decided to set a course for the nearest one. As they drew near, they saw -a sunny white house sitting on the crest of a small rise about a hundred -yards back from the water. Below the house, a well-protected and -pleasant-looking cove offered a good place for an anchorage. A floating -dock was secured to a high stone pier, from which a path could be seen -leading up to the house. It looked like an almost perfect summer place, -set in broad green lawns, with several old shade trees near the house -and with a general atmosphere of well-being radiating from everything. - -They glided straight into the little cove, then suddenly put the rudder -over hard and brought the sloop sharply up into the wind. The sails -flapped loosely, and the boat lost some of its headway, then glided -slowly to a stop. - -On the bow, Sandy stood ready with the anchor, waiting for Jerry to tell -him when to lower it. As the boat began to move a little astern, backing -in the headwind, Jerry told Sandy to let the anchor down slowly. - -“You never drop an anchor, or throw it over the side. After all, you -want the anchor to tip over, and to drive a hook into the bottom. It -won’t do that if it’s just dropped.” - -When Sandy felt the anchor touch the bottom, he pulled back gently on -the anchor line until he felt the hook take hold. Then, leading the line -through the fair lead at the bow, he tied it securely to a cleat on the -deck. - -Loosening the halyards, they dropped first the jib and then the -mainsail, rolled them neatly, and secured them with strips of sailcloth, -called stops. Jerry pointed out that it was not necessary to remove the -slides and snaps. That way, he explained, it would only be a matter of -minutes to get under way when they wanted to. With the last stop tied -and the boom and the rudder lashed to keep them from swinging, the sloop -was all shipshape at anchor, rocking gently on the swell about fifty -yards from the end of the floating dock. - -“Let’s row the dinghy in to the dock and see if we can find somebody on -shore,” Jerry suggested. “Of course, with no boats in here, there might -not be anyone on the island right now, but I think that I saw a well up -by the house, and I’m sure that no one would mind if we helped ourselves -to a little water.” - -But Jerry was wrong on both counts. There was somebody on the island, -and he looked far from hospitable. In fact, the tall man who came -striding down the path to the float where the boys already had the -dinghy headed was carrying a rifle—and, what was more, he looked -perfectly ready to use it at any minute! - -“Turn back!” he shouted, as he reached the edge of the stone pier. “Turn -back, I tell you, or I’ll shoot that dinghy full of holes and sink it -right out from under you!” He raised the rifle deliberately to his -shoulder and sighted down its length at the boys. - -“Wait a minute!” Sandy shouted back. “You’re making a mistake! We just -need to get some water to drink! We don’t mean any harm!” - -The man lowered his rifle, but looked no friendlier than before. “I -don’t care what you want,” he called, “but you can just sail off and get -it some other place! This is my island and my cove. They’re both private -property, and you’re trespassing here! Now turn that dinghy around and -get back to your sailboat and go!” - -This speech finished, he raised his rifle to the firing position once -more and aimed it at the dinghy. - -“All right, mister!” Jerry yelled back at him. “We’ll get going! But -when we get back to the mainland, you can bet that we’re going to report -you to the Coast Guard for your failure to give assistance! I’m not sure -what they can do about it, but they sure ought to know that there’s a -character like you around here! Maybe they’ll mark it on the charts, so -that sailors in trouble won’t waste their time coming in here for help!” - -As the boys started to turn the dinghy about, they heard a shout from -the man on the pier. “Wait a minute!” he called. “There’s no need to get -so upset. I’m sorry—but I guess I made a mistake after all. Row on in to -the float and I’ll get you some water.” - -Not at all sure that they were doing the wisest thing, but not wanting -to anger the strange rifleman by not doing what he had suggested, they -decided to risk coming to shore. After all, Sandy reasoned, he hadn’t -actually threatened to shoot _them_—just the dinghy—and he couldn’t do -much more harm from close up than from where they were. Besides, both -boys were curious about the man and his island. They rowed to the -floating dock and made the dinghy fast to a cleat. - -“I’m sorry, boys,” the man with the rifle said pleasantly. “It’s just -that I’ve been bothered in the past by kids landing here for picnics and -swimming parties when I’m not here. They leave the beach a mess, and one -gang actually broke into the house once, and stole some things. That’s -why I don’t like kids coming around. I thought you were more of the -same, but I figured you were all right when you said that you’d report -to the Coast Guard. Those other kids stay as far away from the Coast -Guard and the Harbor Police as they can.” - -He smiled apologetically, but as Sandy started to climb up from the -dinghy to the floating dock, his expression hardened once more. - -“I said that I’d get you some water,” he said, “but I didn’t invite you -to come ashore and help yourselves to it. You just stay right where you -are in that dinghy, and hand me up your water jars. I’ll fill them up -for you, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” - -More than a little puzzled, Jerry and Sandy handed up their two soft -plastic gallon jugs. Their “host” took them under one arm, leaving the -other hand free for his rifle which he carried with a finger lying -alongside of the trigger. Without a word, the island’s owner walked off. - -“I wonder what’s the matter with him,” Jerry said. - -“I don’t know,” Sandy replied, “but whatever it is, we’d better do what -he says, or something pretty bad might be the matter with us!” - -Halfway up the path to the house, the tall man stopped, turned back, and -looked hard at the boys before continuing on up the hill. - -“Mind you do just what I said!” he shouted back over his shoulder. “You -just stay in that dinghy, and don’t get any fancy ideas about exploring -around. If I find you ashore, I’m still as ready as ever to use this -gun!” - - - - - CHAPTER FIVE - Storm Fears - - -Unpredictable as the wind, the man was all smiles when he returned with -the two jars filled with water. But he still had his gun. - -“I’m glad to see you stayed put in your dinghy,” he said. “I kept an eye -on you from the hill.” He handed down the plastic jugs to Sandy and -added, “Sorry I acted so gruff, but you know how it is. I live all alone -out here, and even though the island is only a little over a half mile -from the mainland it’s a pretty isolated spot. I have to be careful of -strangers. But I should have seen right away that you boys are all -right.” - -“Thanks,” said Sandy. “And thanks for filling our water jugs. We’re -sorry we bothered you.” - -They cast the dinghy free, rowed quickly back to the sloop and, as fast -as they could manage it, raised the anchor, hoisted the sails and -skimmed out of the cove. As they rounded the rocky point that marked the -entrance to the cove, they looked back to where the island’s lone -inhabitant was standing on the dock, watching them out of sight, his -rifle still held ready at his hip. - -“Boy, that’s a strange one!” Sandy said. “I wonder what he’s hiding on -that island of his—a diamond mine?” - -“You never can tell,” Jerry replied, “but it’s probably nothing at all. -I guess the kind of man who would want to live all alone on an island -away from people is bound to be pretty crazy about getting all the -privacy he can. And as far as I’m concerned, he can have it. From now -on, if we need anything, let’s head for the mainland!” - -Dismissing the mysterious rifleman from their minds, they set out once -more to enjoy the pleasures of a brisk wind, blue sky and a trim boat. - -The afternoon went swiftly by as Sandy learned more and more about -handling his boat, and about the boats they saw sailing near them. Jerry -pointed out the different types of boats, explaining more fully than -before that the ones with one mast were called sloops, the two-masted -boats were called yawls, ketches and schooners. Telling one from the -other was a matter of knowing the arrangement of masts. The ketches had -tall mainmasts and shorter mizzens behind them. The yawls had even -shorter mizzens, set as far aft as possible. Schooners, with taller -mizzen than main, were relatively rare. - -Jerry also pointed to varied types of one-masted boats. Not all of them, -he told Sandy, were sloops, though most were. The sloops had their mast -stepped about one third back from the bow. Cutters had their mast -stepped nearly in the center of the boat. In addition, they saw a few -catboats, with their single masts stepped nearly in the bows. - -Learning all this, plus trying to absorb all that Jerry was telling him -about harbor markers, sail handling, steering, types of sails and -conditions under which each sail is used, Sandy found the time flying -by. Almost before he realized it, the sun was beginning to set and the -boats around them were all heading back up the channel to find their -moorings and tie up for the night. - -Everywhere they looked, the roadstead of Cliffport Bay was as busy as a -highway. Sailboats of every description, outboard motorboats, big cabin -cruisers, high-powered motor racers, rowboats, canoes, sailing canoes, -kayaks, power runabouts, fishing excursion boats and dozens of other -craft were making their way to shore. - -The afternoon, which had started so brightly, had become overcast, and -the sun glowed sullenly behind a low bank of clouds. The breeze which -had been steady but light during the late afternoon hours, suddenly -picked up force and became a fairly hard wind. It felt cold and damp -after the hot day. Joining the homebound pleasure fleet, Sandy and Jerry -picked their way through the now crowded harbor, back to Cliffport Boat -Yard. - -They arrived in a murky twilight, just a few minutes before the time -when it would have become necessary for them to light the lanterns for -the red and green running lights demanded by the International Rules of -the Road. - -The boys decided to drop anchor in the boat yard’s mooring area, rather -than tow the boat back to the float where it had been tied. This would -make it unnecessary to tow the sloop out again for the next day’s -sailing, when they would start on the long trip home. - -They dropped the sails, removed their slides and snaps on mast, boom and -forestay, and carefully folded them for replacement in the sail bags. -These were stowed below in their locker just forward of the cabin. Then -Sandy and Jerry turned their attention to getting the boat ready for the -night. - -Sandy helped Jerry rest the boom in its “crutch,” a piece of wood shaped -like the letter _Y_, which was placed standing upright in a slot in the -stern seat. This kept the boom from swinging loose when the boat was -unattended, and thus protected both the boat, the boom and the rigging -from damage. All the running gear was then lashed down or coiled and put -away, the sliding cabin door and hatch cover were closed in place, and -the sloop was ready to be left. - -“That’s what’s meant by ‘shipshape,’” Jerry said with satisfaction. - -As the boys rowed the dinghy back to the float, they felt the first fat -drops of rain and they noticed how choppy the still waters of the bay -had become. Jerry cast a sailor’s eye at the ominously darkening sky. - -“That’s more than evening coming on,” he said. “Unless I miss my guess, -we’re in for a good storm tonight. To tell you the truth, I’m glad we’re -staying ashore!” - -They lifted the dinghy from the water, turned it over on the float and -placed the stubby oars below it. Then, picking up their sea bags, they -ran for the shelter of the shed as the first torrential downpour of the -storm washed Cliffport in a solid sheet of blinding rain. - - -Later that night, after a change of clothes, dinner, and a movie at -Cliffport’s only theater, the boys sat on their beds in the hotel room -and listened to the howling fury of the storm. Raindrops rattled on the -windowpanes like hailstones, and through the tossing branches of a tree -they could see the riding lights of a few boats in the harbor, rocking -violently to and fro. As they watched, the wind sent a large barrel -bowling down the street to smash against a light pole, bounce off and -roll, erratic as a kicked football, out of sight around a corner. - -“It’s a good thing we anchored out,” Jerry said, watching this evidence -of the storm’s power. “The boat could really have gotten banged up -against the float if we had tied it up where it was before!” - -“Do you think it’ll be safe where it is now?” Sandy asked anxiously. - -“Oh, a little wind and water won’t bother a good boat,” Jerry answered. -“After all, it was made for wind and water! Still....” He scowled and -shook his head doubtfully. - -“Still what?” Sandy said with alarm. “Is there something wrong with the -way we left it?” - -“Not really,” Jerry said. “I’m just worried about one thing. We’re not -tied to a permanent mooring, the way the other boats around here are. -That means that we might drag anchor in a storm as bad as this one, and -if we happen to drag into deep water where the anchor can’t reach the -bottom, the boat could drift a long ways off until it hooked onto -something again. And there’s always the chance that it could get washed -up on the rocks somewhere, first!” - -With this unhappy thought in mind, the boys stared out the window for -some time in silence as the storm continued unchecked. Finally, knowing -that worry couldn’t possibly help, and that a good night’s sleep would -prepare them to meet whatever the morning would bring, they turned out -the lights and went to bed. - -But, for Sandy, bed was one thing—sleep was another. Although Jerry -managed to drop off to slumber in no time, Sandy lay a long time awake -staring at the shadows of the tossing tree on the ceiling of the hotel -room. - -His mind was full of the events of the crowded day. It had been quite a -day, starting with the ride in his uncle’s sports car, and proceeding to -the new boat and learning to sail. Then the mysterious man on the -island, keeping guard with his ever-present rifle, and concluding with a -night of powerful storm. He reviewed all this, and mixed with his -recollection his new worries about the safety of his boat. A series of -images crowded his mind—a vision of the smart sloop lying smashed -against some rocky piece of shore was mingled with a memory of the -pleasures of his first day of sailing; and somewhere, behind and around -all of his thoughts, was the unpleasantly frightening memory of the man -with the gun, waiting on his hermit’s island. - -All of this mingled in his mind with the sound of the storm until Sandy -slipped into an uncertain, restless sleep—a sleep filled with vague, -shadowy dreams, connected only by a sense that somewhere, something was -wrong. - - - - - CHAPTER SIX - Something Lost—Something Found! - - -The next morning, when Sandy and Jerry awoke, the storm that had lashed -Cliffport had vanished as if it, too, had been a bad dream. - -Cliffport’s Main Street, which fronted the bay, was washed clean, and -sparkled in the bright morning light. The bay waters themselves even -looked cleaner than before, freshly laundered blue and white, with -silver points of sunlight sprinkled over their peaceful surface. It was, -in short, a perfect sailing day, and the boys could hardly wait to get -down to the boat yard to see if the sloop had ridden the storm at -anchor. - -They dressed hurriedly in their sailing clothes—blue jeans, sneakers and -sweat shirts—and bolted breakfast in the hotel coffee shop. Then, sea -bags slung over their shoulders, they raced down the street to the -Cliffport Boat Yard, rounded the corner of the main shed and, at the -head of the gangway, came to a stop. - -Sandy felt a sick, sinking feeling as he scanned the mooring area, -searching vainly for a sight of his sloop. But where she had ridden at -anchor the night before, there was only a patch of calm blue water. - -It hardly seemed possible that she wasn’t there. The storm, on this -bright, sunny morning, seemed never to have happened. Other boats rode -peacefully at their moorings, apparently untouched by the night’s wild -work. Life in the boat yard and on the bay went on as if nothing had -occurred. But Sandy felt as if it were the end of the world. - -Slowly and silently, the boys walked down the gangway to where their -dinghy lay like a turtle, unharmed. They anxiously scanned the bay on -all sides, searching for a mast that might be theirs, but to no avail. -Then Jerry straightened up and clapped Sandy on the shoulder. - -“Come on,” he said. “There’s no use standing here moping. The only thing -to do now is to take out the dinghy and start to hunt.” - -They launched the dinghy, put out the stubby oars, and rowed away from -the float. - -“Where do we look first?” Sandy asked. - -“We’ll just go the way the wind went,” Jerry said. “Luckily, the storm -came from the mainland and blew out to sea. That means there’s a good -chance that the boat didn’t pile up on the shore. Of course, there are a -lot of islands out there, and plenty of rocks, but there’s a lot more -open water. With any luck we’ll find her floating safe and sound, -somewhere out in the bay. I don’t think she could have gone too far -dragging that anchor.” - -They headed down the channel, taking occasional side excursions around -some of the small islands whenever they saw, on the other side, a mast -that could be theirs. But none of the boats they found was the right -one. The hot sun made rowing even the light cockleshell of the dinghy -unpleasant work. Sandy paused at the oars and pushed back his cowlick, -then wiped his perspiring brow. He was beginning to fear that he would -never again see his trim new sloop—unless he was to see it lying -shattered on one of these rocky islands. Then, with dogged -determination, he picked up his oars once more and bent his back to the -task of rowing. - -Once or twice they asked passing sailors if they had seen an unattended -sloop out of the mooring areas, but though everyone offered sympathy and -promised to help if they happened to see it, none had any information to -offer. - -The morning wore on slowly as Sandy and Jerry pulled farther and farther -away from the mainland, exploring every possible hiding place the bay -had to offer. - -By noon, Sandy’s spirits were at low ebb, and he was beginning to wonder -how he would tell his Uncle Russ the bad news. Then, almost tipping the -unsteady dinghy, Jerry half rose from his seat and pointed. “Look!” he -shouted. “Over there! I think that’s her! And will you look at where she -drifted to!” - -Sandy dropped the oars and turned to look at the small white sloop with -the green decks that lay quietly bobbing at anchor just outside the -entrance of the cove where, yesterday, they had been welcomed by a gun! - -“Of all places to drift to,” he gasped. “It’s a darn good thing she -didn’t drift inside his cove, or she might be shot full of holes by -now!” - -Then, with a lighter heart than he had felt all morning, Sandy picked up -the oars and sent the dinghy fairly flying to the side of the trim -sloop. - -“From now on,” he said, “sleeping bags and air mattresses or not, we’re -sleeping on board until we get a permanent mooring for this boat near -home!” Relieved and happy, Sandy climbed on board as Jerry tied the -dinghy to the stern. - -“I’ll go below to get the sails out,” Sandy said, “while you unship the -boom and get the rigging ready.” - -He opened the hatch cover and slid back the doors, then stepped down -into the little cabin. As he started forward to the sail lockers, he had -a sudden, odd feeling that something was wrong, something out of place; -a strange notion that he had seen, out of the corner of his eye, -something that was not what it should have been. - -Pausing to look around, he saw what had bothered him. Clamped to the -bulkhead over the port bunk was a large, oddly shaped brass pistol, like -the kind he had always imagined the old-time pirates carried. He had -never seen anything like it before—and he was almost positive that it -had not been there yesterday! - -“Jerry!” he called, sticking his head out of the hatch. “Come here! I -want you to see something and tell me what you think.” As Jerry poked -his head into the cabin, Sandy gestured at the brass pistol. “Was that -thing here yesterday, or have we gotten into somebody else’s boat?” - -Jerry brought his dark brows together in a frown and scratched his -crew-cut head. “I don’t think it was here. I probably would have noticed -it. But maybe we just didn’t see it. We were so busy with other things.” - -“But why would Uncle Russ have left a pistol on board?” Sandy asked, -puzzled. - -“He probably wouldn’t have,” Jerry said. “But he might have left one of -these. That’s a flare gun, not a regular pistol at all. You use it as a -signal of distress. It shoots a rocket. Still ... I don’t remember -seeing it. And I know that your uncle didn’t mention leaving one.” - -“Well, I don’t know whether he did or not,” Sandy said, “but we’d better -make sure this is our boat before we go sailing it off. If it belongs to -that guy on the island, we could get into some pretty bad trouble if we -took it by mistake!” - -As they looked for some identifying marks, an idea suddenly occurred to -Sandy. “Maybe this isn’t our boat, but one just like it, and maybe the -man with the gun was expecting it with somebody else on board! That -might explain his actions!” - -“That makes sense,” Jerry said. “And in that case, we’d better find out -fast if it’s ours. Look—our boat didn’t have any name on it, and most -boats do. If this has a name, we’ll know.” He hurried to the stern to -see, and then to the bow, where some boat owners fasten name plates, but -none was to be seen. - -“That doesn’t prove anything, though,” Sandy said. “But I have an idea. -Let’s look in the food locker. I remember pretty well what was in there -yesterday, and I doubt if two boats would have the identical food -supplies. One look should tell us.” He reached above the galley stove -and slid back the doors of the locker, then stepped backward as if he -had been hit. - -“It’s sure not our boat,” Sandy said in hushed tones, for in the locker -there was no food at all. Instead, where food should have been, was what -appeared to be a fortune in fresh, green money! - - - - - CHAPTER SEVEN - A Million Dollars’ Worth of Trouble - - -Sandy and Jerry, stunned for the moment, stood in silence, gazing at the -neatly wrapped stacks of tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds and -five-hundred-dollar bills—more money than either of them had ever -dreamed of! - -“I don’t know whose boat this is,” Sandy said, “but whoever he is, he -can sure afford a larger one!” - -Awed by the sight of the money, Jerry reached out and slipped a -five-hundred-dollar bill from its wrapper. “I just want to look at it -for a minute,” he said. “I’ve never seen a five-hundred before!” - -Sandy joined him to look at the crisp bill. “Neither have I,” he said. -Then, stooping to look closer, he took the bill from Jerry’s hand and -examined it with the most intense interest. - -“Jerry!” he said, almost in a whisper. “I think we’ve found more than a -stack of money in a peculiar place! I may be mistaken, but I think this -thing is counterfeit!” - -“Counterfeit!” Jerry said, with a gasp. “How can you tell, if you never -saw a five-hundred-dollar bill before?” - -“Come on over into the sunlight where we can see better,” Sandy replied, -“and I’ll show you what I mean.” They moved to the rear of the little -cabin, where the sun poured in through the open hatchway cover. Sandy -held the money up to the light. - -“Look at the corners,” he said, pointing to the lower right-hand corner -of the bill. “You see all those fine hair lines that make the looping, -criss-cross pattern you see on all paper money? Well, I read once that -those loops and swirls are the hardest part of a bill to counterfeit, -and if you’re on the lookout for phony money you should always look -there first. Ones or one-thousands, they’re all very complicated to -engrave. On a genuine bill the lines are sharp and clear. On a -counterfeit, they’re usually a little fuzzy, especially where two lines -cross. Look over here, right next to the five-hundred-dollar mark, for -instance.” - -He pointed to where a complicated series of fine lines that came -together had made a small smear, instead of a sharp, well-defined -pattern. - -“You’d never find sloppy work like that on a genuine government bill,” -Sandy said, pointing to this and to another telltale spot his sharp eyes -had uncovered. - -“I see what you mean,” Jerry said. “Boy, there must be more than a -million dollars’ worth of this useless stuff in that food locker!” - -“It’s not so useless to someone,” Sandy returned. “Whoever made this -stuff and is responsible for it is sure making real money out of it in -the end—and an awful lot of real money, too!” - -Jerry nodded thoughtfully, then said, “Where do you suppose it’s coming -from?” - -“That shouldn’t be too hard to figure out,” Sandy answered. “That man on -the island was pretty nervous about having any unexpected guests, I’d -say. I’ll bet you this whole stack of money that he’s behind the whole -thing, and that this is his boat that we’re on!” - -“You must be right,” Jerry said. “From the way that he came racing down -that path with his gun yesterday, he must have been watching us all -along, yet he didn’t come to stop us until we had dropped our anchor, -lowered our sails, and were halfway in to shore in the dinghy! We should -have realized when he didn’t stop us sooner what that meant. It meant -that something funny was going on here!” - -“That’s right!” Sandy agreed. “He must have been expecting somebody else -to come along in this boat—the same class and colors as ours—and he -thought that we were whoever he was expecting—until he saw us in the -dinghy! That’s why he was acting so confused and excited that he didn’t -know whether to shoot at us, or to be nice and let us get our water and -be on our way. We really caught him off guard!” - -“Right,” Jerry said. “And now we’ve confused the boats the same way he -did, and we’ve caught him off guard again!” - -Sandy sat looking silently at the counterfeit five-hundred-dollar bill, -frowning. Then he looked up at his friend and said, “The question now -is, what are we going to do about it? We’re pretty lucky that we weren’t -seen coming on board this boat, but do you think our luck is going to -last? I’m worried that we won’t be able to get away from here again -without being seen.” - -“We haven’t got much choice in the matter, have we?” Jerry answered. -“The longer we stay here, the worse our chances will be. There’s no -telling when the man with the gun or somebody else will come out here to -do something with this money, and if they find us here....” - -“I’d sure hate to cross that fellow,” Sandy agreed. “I don’t like the -way he handles that rifle of his. He looks too darn ready to use it!” - -Stuffing the counterfeit five-hundred-dollar bill into his pocket, Sandy -stood up. “We’d better get going now, while we still have a chance,” he -said. “The only thing to do now is to get this bill to the police as -evidence of what we’ve found, and to put them on to this island.” - -Sandy started up from the cabin but, as his head emerged from the -hatchway, he stopped dead in his tracks, for floating in a dinghy just a -few feet away was the mysterious owner of the island accompanied by two -tough-looking sailors! Sandy looked in dismay from their three faces to -the muzzles of three guns pointed directly at him! - -It was not a pleasant smile that the man from the island gave him as he -said, “Well! This is quite a surprise for all of us, isn’t it? Are you -still looking for water? Or do you have a better story to entertain me -with today?” - - - - - CHAPTER EIGHT - Double Blackout - - -Sandy tried his hardest to look unknowing and innocent, and at the same -time shocked and outraged. With the three guns aimed at him, it was not -an easy job. - -“What’s the idea?” he exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anybody so ready with -a gun as you are! We were only looking for our boat. You know it looks -the same as yours. We thought for a while that this was it, but....” - -“But you found out, after some thorough snooping, that it wasn’t, didn’t -you?” the man sneered. “Of course you did. It’s my boat, all right! And -you’re trespassing on it! And this is my island too, and you were -trespassing there yesterday! And if I were to shoot you, I would be -perfectly within my rights as a landowner!” - -Sandy tried with difficulty to smile reassuringly. “Take it easy, -mister,” he said. “Honestly, we were just looking for our boat. It -dragged anchor in the storm last night, and when we saw yours we made a -natural mistake and thought it was ours. Okay, it isn’t. We made a -mistake, that’s all. Now if you’ll just let us apologize, we’ll get off -your private property and go looking again.” - -But the man didn’t show the slightest intention of even moving his rifle -from the ready, much less of letting the boys go. - -“Of course you’ll go looking again,” he said. “Looking for what you were -looking for yesterday and today. Oh, no! I hardly think I can let you -go!” Then he smiled his peculiar smile again. “What’s more,” he added, -“even if I were to let you go, I would first have to ask you to return -the money you stole—the money I see sticking out of your pocket!” - -Sandy’s heart sank. There was nothing he could think of to say now, and -he could see no way out of the situation. He sank wearily to a seat in -the cockpit and sighed. - -“I guess we can both stop play-acting about this trespassing thing,” he -said. He pulled the telltale bill out of his pocket and threw it on the -deck. “This is what you’ve been so upset about all along, isn’t it?” - -“You’re a very bright boy,” the man with the gun said. “Far too bright, -I’m afraid. You have this whole thing figured out already, haven’t you?” - -“Most of it,” Sandy admitted. “At least the parts that count. You’re -using this island to make counterfeit money, and you’re using this -sailboat to take it somewhere. That’s about all I know, but it’s enough -to get you in trouble, isn’t it, Mr.—?” - -“Jones is the name,” the man said. “Yes, I would say it was quite -enough. The only mistake you’ve made is your conclusion. What you know -is enough to get _you_ in trouble—not me. In fact, I should hate to be -in as much trouble as you two boys are in right now!” Jones put down his -rifle for a moment and said, “Do you mind if I come on board my boat so -that we can discuss your difficulties in more comfort?” - -Jones stepped out of the dinghy to the deck of the little sloop and -settled himself comfortably in the stern seat while his two silent -crewmen kept Sandy covered. When he was set, with his ever-present rifle -held at ready across his knees, he was followed on board by the larger -and meaner looking of the two sailors, who stationed himself beside -Jones. - -“Oh, yes,” Jones repeated, “I should say that what you know is quite -enough! And, since you already have too much information to ever let you -leave here with, I’ll be happy to satisfy your immense curiosity by -giving you a little more. But why not have your friend join us on deck?” - -When Jerry had come up from the cabin and was sitting beside Sandy, -Jones cleared his throat, as if he were about to give a formal speech. - -“As far as you went in your thinking, you are most certainly right,” he -said. “I use this boat to transport counterfeit money which I make on my -island. I take it to a waiting freighter that meets me five miles off -shore—well beyond the legal jurisdiction of the United States -government, in international waters. The freighter takes my pretty -counterfeit money and disposes of it in foreign markets, where I get a -good price for it, and where not every bright and nosy boy is out to -make a nuisance of himself.” - -Then, once again, Jones smiled his peculiar and unpleasant smile. “I -find the foreign markets most useful for disposing of items which are -too difficult to get rid of here. I expect that you will not be much -harder to dispose of than this money, when you are beyond the limits of -U.S. waters!” - -Sandy looked at Jerry in silence, desperately hoping his friend would -come up with some flash of inspiration—some idea—which would help them -to get out of this situation. But Jerry was no help. For that matter, -Sandy reflected, he was not much help himself. But as long as he kept -“Jones” talking, he’d get some more information and meanwhile, perhaps, -he or Jerry might think of something. - -“There’s only one thing that has me puzzled in all this,” Sandy said -therefore. “Why did you leave this boat full of money floating around -outside of the cove?” - -Jones laughed. “There you have the full essence of our little comedy of -errors,” he said. “Last night’s storm probably tore more than one -hundred boats loose from their anchorages and moorings. Yours, I assure -you, wasn’t the only one that drifted a good distance, and neither was -mine!” - -“Yours?” Jerry gasped. “You mean that our boat _did_ drift over this -way? And that you—?” - -“I think you understand,” Jones replied. “But it wasn’t I. It was these -stupid fools who work for me. They had loaded the money on board the -boat last night before the storm. Then, when it blew up, we knew that it -was impossible to sail to the freighter until the storm had passed. They -failed to take the money out of the boat for the night, trusting to luck -that nothing would go wrong. But something did go wrong! My boat broke -loose and floated out around the point to where it is now. Your boat -drifted up to the entrance of my cove. When they came out this morning, -my assistants saw your boat, and did not see mine.” - -Jones laughed a short, sharp laugh. “They actually sailed your sloop -five miles out to the freighter! Of course they discovered their mistake -when they opened the money locker and found it full of canned food!” - -He looked at the sailors with disgust, then continued. “When they -realized their error, they promptly sailed back here, but by that time -you had found my boat and assumed it to be yours. When they told me -their story, I guessed at once what had happened and went to correct the -mistake before you found out about our little business. If you had only -come a half hour later, you would have found your own boat and sailed it -off in perfect safety. Unfortunately for you, you were just a little too -soon.” - -“As long as you’re telling us the whole story,” Jerry said, “will you -answer a question for me? I don’t understand why you bother with -sailboats, when a power boat could do the job so much faster.” - -“That’s a fair question,” Jones said. “You _are_ smart boys, aren’t you? -Well, I pride myself on using my brains, too. I use this -innocent-looking sloop for several reasons, one of which caused this -whole ridiculous mix-up. For one thing, an individual member of a -popular class of sailboat is very hard for the casual observer to -identify. This we have both seen to be true. For another thing, everyone -thinks of a sailboat as being merely a pleasure craft, and would never -suspect it of anything illegal. It can go in and out of the harbor on a -regular schedule and nobody will notice it or even realize it’s the same -boat they are seeing. Third, all power boats have to be registered and -licensed by the Coast Guard, while a sailboat is so anonymous that it -doesn’t even have to have a name. Fourth, it gives me a reason to live -on this island. To the people who stop to think of me, if they think of -me at all, I am a retired gentleman whose principal hobby is sailing, -and who lives on an island in order to get the most enjoyment out of the -sport.” - -Again Jones smiled, and Sandy shivered. “It’s quite a neat setup, don’t -you agree?” Jones said. “And, with the same neatness that is a part of -my way of life, I am now going to put an end to this whole unpleasant -interruption.” - -Suddenly dropping his lazy conversational manner, Jones sat upright and -pointed his rifle at Sandy. Not moving his eyes from the boys, he spoke -to the sailor who was still standing silent by his side. “We’ll have to -take them out to the freighter now. There’s nothing else to do. I’ll -decide what to do with them later on. You and Turk sail this boat and -I’ll follow in theirs. Lock them below,” he added, nodding toward Sandy -and Jerry. - -For the first time since they had seen him, the sailor spoke. “Okay,” he -said. “We won’t mess it up this time.” Then, this being apparently the -longest speech of which he was capable, he shut his mouth into a thin, -hard line, and moved heavily to the boys. - -Using his pistol as a goad, he poked Sandy in the ribs and motioned him -to go below. As Sandy started to take his first step down into the -cabin, the sailor shoved him roughly and sent him sprawling onto the -deck below. His head spinning, Sandy looked up to see the giant sailor -towering above him. He was conscious of an odd noise, like a strangled, -slow sobbing, far away. What was it? He had never heard such an ugly -sound in his life.... - -Then, as his head cleared, he realized what it was that he was hearing. -The sailor was laughing! - -Afterward, Sandy was unable to explain why the strange laughing sound, -and the sight of the warped expression that only faintly resembled a -smile, should have made him behave as he did. An uncontrollable fury -filled him and he jumped to his feet with a headlong rush! - -Caught off guard by Sandy’s sudden attack, the sailor made a clumsy move -to sidestep, but not before Sandy’s swing had caught him a terrific blow -in the ribs. All of Sandy’s six feet of wiry muscle went into the blow, -and the sailor reeled back, staggering. - -Sandy followed him into the cockpit to take advantage of the surprise -attack, just in time to see Jones bring down the barrel of his rifle -sharply on Jerry’s head. Sandy whirled to face Jones as Jerry dropped to -the deck. - -He started forward, cocking his fist to lash out before Jones could -raise his rifle again, but suddenly, with a sound like a bat striking a -ball, a blinding light seemed to explode in his face. This first -sensation was followed by a dull roaring sound and a spreading pool of -inky blackness. He felt his knees buckle.... - -Somewhere, from afar, he heard Jones speaking in bored tones. - -“Bull,” he was saying, almost lazily, “you know how I dislike -unnecessary violence in any form. If you hadn’t shoved the boy, this -little scene would never—” - -And that was the last Sandy was to hear for quite a while. - - - - - CHAPTER NINE - To the Freighter - - -When Sandy came to, the first thing he was aware of was a terrific -headache. This was accompanied by such severe dizziness that when he -tried to sit up he sank back immediately, holding his head. Gingerly, he -ran his hand over his skull as if to make sure that it was still all in -one piece. Then he lay still for a while, afraid to try moving anything -else, and looked at the ceiling above him. - -Slowly, the dizziness ebbed away and the pain lurking behind his eyes -settled down to a more bearable level. When he felt it was safe to try, -he moved more cautiously than the first time, sat up and swung his long -legs over the edge of the bunk. - -For a moment, he simply sat there with his elbows on his knees and his -head propped in his hands, and looked at the decking. He had to think -hard, as if he were remembering a dream that was fast fading away. Why -was he in this bunk below? How was Jerry handling the boat alone? He -frowned, pushed back his cowlick and raised his head. - -As he did so, he caught sight of the brass flare gun clipped to its -bracket on the opposite bulkhead, and suddenly he remembered everything -that had happened. Of course! This was not his boat at all, and Jerry -wasn’t sailing it alone—or in any other way, for that matter! - -Jerry lay on the opposite bunk below the flare gun, propped up on one -elbow and looking at him with a grin. - -“I guess it isn’t funny,” he said, “but you sure took an awful long time -to wake up and figure out what had happened to you! I’ve been lying here -awake for five minutes now, just watching you come up from under!” -Ruefully rubbing a hand across his black crew-cut, he added, “I guess I -must have taken the same length of time doing it when I woke up, but -there wasn’t anybody here to time me!” - -“I saw Jones hit you,” Sandy said, “and he sure wasn’t making any -special effort to be gentle. I guess that Bull, the big sailor, got me -from behind when I turned to go after Jones.” - -Still rubbing his head, Jerry sat up in his bunk and faced his friend. -“Sandy,” he asked, “what made you take a swing at Bull like that? You -sure must have known that the two of us didn’t stand much of a chance in -a fight against three men with guns!” - -“I don’t suppose I was really thinking at all,” Sandy answered. “I know -it was a pretty foolish thing to do, but there was just something about -Bull’s laugh.... Anyway, I’m sorry. It could have got us killed right -then and there, I guess. As it is, I think we’re lucky to have got away -with nothing more than a couple of headaches.” - -“What do you mean, a couple?” Jerry said. “I’ve got two myself!” - -Both boys laughed, but as their laughter died down, they became more -serious than they had been before. - -“Look, we can sit here and make jokes about the situation until they get -us out to that freighter,” Sandy said, “but that isn’t going to help us -to figure out a way to escape and get to the police.” - -“You’re perfectly right,” Jerry agreed. “We’d better scout around and -size things up while we’ve got a chance.” - -“And we’d better do it fast,” Sandy added. “We don’t know how long we’ve -been knocked out, so we haven’t any idea how much time we have left -before we arrive at the freighter. And by then, it might very well be -too late to do anything for ourselves at all.” - -Half rising from their bunks, for the cabin roof was too low to allow -them full standing headroom, they moved aft to the sliding doors that -separated them from the cockpit. Gently testing the doors, Sandy found -that they were locked, as he had assumed they would be. A crack of light -showed where the two halves of the door met, and he placed his eye to -it. With a frown, he turned around to look at Jerry. - -“Boy, they’re not taking any chances this time,” he whispered. “Both of -the sailors are out there in the cockpit, and the one called Turk has -his pistol in his hand, and it’s pointed right at this door!” - -Moving back to the bunks, Sandy and Jerry knelt to look through the -small windows above them. On both sides of the sloop, there was nothing -to see but water—not so much as a buoy or another boat in sight. Far off -to the starboard side, they made out a low smudge that was the shore. - -“We must be almost there!” Sandy said. - -“Do you think there’s any use trying the forward hatch?” asked Jerry. -“Or do you suppose that they have that one locked tight, too?” - -“I don’t know if it matters much one way or the other,” Sandy sighed. -“Even if it is open, I wouldn’t care to stick my head out—not with Turk -sitting back there with his pistol ready! I think I’ve had enough of -rushing into pistols for one day!” Putting his hand to his head, he felt -the lump that was forming above his right ear. - -Moving with the most extreme caution, so as to attract no attention from -their guards, they started to explore the cabin for whatever -possibilities it had to offer. Coming to the two tiny forward portholes, -barely large enough to put a hand through, Sandy paused to take a look -forward. - -Before their bow, perhaps fifty yards away, was a boat sailing calmly -along as if the whole world were on a holiday. For one short instant, -Sandy thought that this might be their chance—perhaps a signal with the -flare gun might bring aid from the passing sailor! But his hopes were -shattered in no time as he realized that the sloop sailing ahead was his -own, sailed by Jones who was leading the way to the freighter that -waited, like doom, not far off. - -Even in his hopelessness, Sandy could not help pausing to admire his -boat, graceful and trim, making good time beating into a steady breeze. -He thought for a moment of the preceding day when he had learned to take -the tiller and had first felt the happy pride of ownership and -accomplishment that comes to every boat owner. What a change in fortunes -this new day had brought! Now his boat was no longer his and, instead of -carrying him to pleasure, was leading him to what looked like certain -disaster! - -As he watched, his boat suddenly put about on a new tack. He saw Jones -skillfully handling both the tiller and the sheets. The jib was swiftly -brought over to fill and, together with the mainsail, was trimmed and -drawing in no time. Whatever else you could say about Jones, Sandy -thought, the man sure knew how to handle a boat! - -The new tack set by Jones was followed by their sailor-guards. With a -creak of tackle and rigging and a shifting of weight to the opposite -side, the little sloop came about. Still at his lookout post at the -forward port, Sandy saw the head of the boat swing about. As it did so, -he caught sight of their destination. - -“Jerry! Look!” he whispered, motioning his friend to join him at the -other porthole. There, high in the water, perhaps a mile away, was the -dark shape of the freighter. Wisps of gray-white smoke curled from its -stack and drifted off in the breeze. It was an ordinary-looking freight -cargo ship, such as you would see in any port of the world. It had a -black hull, a white deckhouse and a black stack marked with green -stripes. All perfectly ordinary, perhaps, but to Sandy and Jerry it -looked sinister and piratical. They stared at it for a few minutes, -trying to judge their rate of progress from the lessening distance -between themselves and the black-hulled ship. Then Sandy tore himself -away from the porthole and grabbed Jerry’s arm. - -“Jerry, we’ve got to start acting fast,” he said. “There’s hardly any -time left!” - -“Act how?” Jerry said. “What can we do but sit here and wait like a -couple of chickens in a crate being taken to market? If you can think of -anything to do, I’m game, but I haven’t got an idea in my head.” - -“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about the situation now,” -Sandy said, “but I have an idea that might work later on. It may not be -worth much, but anything’s worth trying.” He cast his eyes about the -small cabin. - -“Did you by any chance come across a first-aid kit while you were -searching?” he asked. - -“Yes, I did,” Jerry answered. “It’s in that locker next to the money. -But what do you want it for?” - -“Bring it over and I’ll show you,” Sandy answered. - -While Jerry went for the first-aid kit, Sandy took the brass flare -pistol from its bracket above the bunk. Then he sat down on the bunk and -rolled up his pants leg. “Here,” he said. “Give me some tape. I’m going -to strap this bulky thing to my leg if we have enough.” - -“What for?” Jerry asked in surprise. “It’s not a real gun, you know. All -it does is fire a flare. Besides, there’s only one flare in here, and I -don’t know if that can do us very much good.” - -“I don’t care about the flares,” Sandy answered. “It’s the gun itself -that I’m interested in. It fooled me when I saw it and it just might -possibly fool someone else who might not be familiar with these things. -I’m hoping that if we get a chance to pull it on someone after dark, we -can fool him long enough to get hold of a real gun that will help us -escape!” - -“That’s not a bad idea,” Jerry admitted. “That is, if we’re still alive -by dark!” - -“That’s about all I’m hoping for now,” Sandy answered. “I don’t know -whether we can do any good with this flare gun or not, but it’s pretty -clear that we can’t escape from _this_ boat. So I’m doing what I can to -let us be able to take advantage of any chance we get on board the -freighter. If we’re lucky enough to _get_ a chance.” - -As he spoke, Sandy was fastening the bulky flare pistol to the inside of -his calf, making it as secure as he could with the tape from the -first-aid kit. Finished at last, he stood up as well as he could in the -low-ceilinged cabin, and tried to walk around. - -“Does it show too much?” he asked Jerry, shaking his leg a little. - -“It shows,” Jerry said, without much encouragement. “But maybe if you -move around carefully, and if they don’t take a sudden interest in your -legs, you might get away with it. Anyway, what can we lose by trying?” - -Sandy looked down at the bulge which so obviously distorted the leg of -his blue jeans. He was afraid that he would never get away with it. He -remembered the bell-bottom pants that the Navy enlisted men wear and -that all sailors once wore, and he wondered if their original purpose -had been to carry concealed weapons. Whatever they were for, he sure -wished he were wearing a pair now! - -“I guess this is about as good as we can get it,” Sandy said. “If one of -us only had a jacket on, we could probably hide the gun under an arm, -but these sweat shirts just don’t leave enough room.” - -“No, I think the leg is a better place anyway,” Jerry said. “If they -search us for weapons, they’re apt to miss your leg, but they’d never -miss patting you under the arm. Anyway, we don’t have a jacket, and as -far as I can see there’s no place else to hide the thing.” - -The boys took a last look around the cabin to see if there was anything -else to help them, but there was not even a small kitchen knife or a can -opener in the little galley. It seemed that Mr. Jones kept only -counterfeit money in that area. As they were carefully exploring every -possible nook and cranny in the cabin, they felt the sloop heel to the -other side as it once more came about to go on a new tack. - -From the vantage point of the two forward ports they saw the reason for -this latest maneuver. They were coming up to the wind alongside the -freighter, preparing to stop. The high sides of the big ship loomed -above them like the walls of a fortress, but chipped and scarred with -streaks of rust. As the sloop swung completely into the wind, losing -headway, they caught sight of Jones making a line fast to the bow of -Sandy’s boat. Then, with a rattle of slides and a clumping of heavy -steps on the cabin roof overhead, the counterfeiters’ craft came to a -halt and was made fast alongside the freighter. - -Whatever was to happen, it would happen now! - - - - - CHAPTER TEN - Aboard the Floating Prison - - -Moving away from the forward portholes, Sandy and Jerry sat on the edges -of the bunks and waited for their captors to come and get them. Both -boys made themselves look as if they were completely dejected—as if they -had already given up any hopes they might have had of escaping or of -being rescued. - -In a few minutes the footsteps on the deck and cabin top stopped and the -little craft lay bobbing and wallowing in the sea swell that rose and -fell alongside the freighter. - -Rope bumpers, large braided lengths of thick cordage, were lashed to the -sides of the sloop to keep it from being damaged by rubbing and banging -against the steel side of the big ship. - -Although they were listening as closely as possible to everything that -went on, they could not make out the words they heard shouted from the -freighter’s deck far above. Nevertheless, the sense of them was made -clear by the answer that Turk bellowed back. - -“Yeah! we got the stuff this time, all right! And we got a couple of -other pieces of cargo with us, too! Wait and we’ll show you!” - -This was the moment, Sandy thought. He would have to be careful, he -warned himself, not to lose his temper as he had done last time, even if -he was roughed up and shoved around again. And above all, he must be -careful about the way he moved. One false step would surely outline the -telltale shape of the flare gun taped to his leg—and that would be the -end of the only “weapon” that he and Jerry had! Not only that, but it -might well be the end of the only chance they would have to get away -with whole skins! - -A bolt grated in its slide on the companionway door and the hatch slid -open to reveal Turk, pistol in hand, grinning nastily at them. - -“Okay, gents,” he said. “The first-class passage on the local ferry is -over. Just step up on deck, and we’ll transfer to the next vessel.” - -As Sandy reached the companionway steps, Turk reached down and grabbed -him by the neck of his shirt. With a swift heave, he sent Sandy -sprawling on the cockpit deck. Keeping a tight control on his temper, -Sandy confined his thoughts to worrying about getting his leg tucked -under him in such a position that the flare pistol wouldn’t show. - -But he need not have worried, for Turk was too busy enjoying himself -giving the same treatment to Jerry, who came flying out of the cabin to -land heavily on the deck alongside Sandy. - -“These boys sure play a lot of rough games,” he murmured. “And I’m -afraid that this is only the beginning of a whole world’s series!” - -“Take it easy,” Sandy whispered to his friend. “Let’s just go along with -them quietly. Maybe we can keep in one piece until we have a chance to -figure a way out.” - -At Turk’s orders, they rose to their feet. Looking up to the freighter’s -deck high above them, they saw the other sailor, Bull, already on board, -at the top of a long rope ladder. He too had his pistol held ready, and -the expression on his face gave every indication that he would be only -too glad to use it if he were given even half an excuse to do so. - -“Get up that ladder,” Turk ordered, “and don’t try nothing funny. We’ll -have you covered all the way.” He waved his pistol at Jerry to indicate -that he wanted him to go up the ladder first. - -Sandy’s heart seemed to sink in his chest. The order of climbing was all -wrong—it couldn’t be wronger! Jerry first, himself next, and Turk last! -Surely Turk, if he was below him looking up as he climbed, couldn’t fail -to notice the flare pistol taped to Sandy’s leg! - -Acting as if he misunderstood Turk’s wordless command, Sandy stepped -forward and grabbed the rope ladder, but the sailor’s big hand gripped -him by the shoulder hard and firmly pulled him back. - -“You sure are eager, ain’t ya, kid? And you’re tricky, too. Now why did -you want to go up that ladder first? That ain’t no picnic or party up -there!” He screwed his big face into a frown of deep thought. Apparently -unable to reach a decision, he undid his thinking expression and snarled -at Sandy. “Just stop thinkin’ up tricks, see! You let me do the thinkin’ -here! Now, you go on first, the way I told ya!” He pushed Jerry toward -the ladder. - -Resigned to having his flare gun discovered, and almost resigned to -whatever would happen next, Sandy moved to the ladder to take his turn, -when once more the big hand of Turk pulled him back. “I told you I’d do -the thinkin’!” Turk said. “I don’t know what you got up your sleeve, but -whatever it is, you’d better forget it. I’m goin’ up next!” - -At last, here was a turn of luck! Sandy could hardly keep from grinning -as Turk started to mount the rope ladder. The big sailor swung up -easily, keeping his eyes always turned downward to Sandy. Halfway up, he -stopped. - -“Come on, now,” he said. “You won’t be able to play no tricks this way. -You’re too far back for any leg grabbing, and I got this gun aimed right -at the top of your head. Now come on up, and come slow!” - -Sandy stepped from the deck of the sloop to the lower rungs of the rope -ladder and did as he was told, moving his “gun leg” as carefully as he -could without running the risk of attracting any attention to it. At -least, he thought with some satisfaction, he had gotten over the first -hurdle! - -On the deck of the freighter, the boys were met by Jones, Bull, and a -mean-looking crew of some of the dirtiest men they had ever seen. The -freighter itself was none too clean, with paint scaling from the decks -and splotches of grease covering the cargo-handling winches and other -deck machinery. The white deckhouse, seen from close quarters, was a -dingy and spotted gray, and the portholes were streaked with dirt and -dried salt. - -In the midst of a rat’s nest of coiled ropes, fraying cables and other -ship’s debris, Jones sat on an overturned crate as if it were an easy -chair. He seemed perfectly at ease and completely out of place at the -same time, his smart sports clothes and yachting cap making an odd -contrast to the mixed clothing of the freighter’s crew. - -Despite his air of being a gentleman of leisure, Jones had his rifle -still with him, lying across his knees, and his long fingers played -restlessly with the safety catch and the trigger. - -“Gentlemen,” he smiled. “Welcome aboard. I hope you will find our modest -accommodations suitable for your long journey. The Captain will arrive -in a moment, and I am sure that he will do whatever is in his power to -see to it that you are treated—appropriately.” Still smiling, he turned -to Bull and said, “Bull, see to it that our passengers aren’t carrying -any unnecessary luggage.” - -Bull looked puzzled. “I don’t getcha,” he mumbled. - -Jones rose with a swift movement, his smile turned at once to ice. “If -you weren’t such a stupid lout, perhaps you’d get me the first time I -speak to you! If you weren’t such a stupid lout, we wouldn’t have had -these boys here with us in the first place.” - -He moved forward as if to strike the cowering Bull, but stopped and -regained control over himself. Once more, he put on his bland smile. - -“Pardon my temper and my little jokes, Bull,” he said. “What I meant by -‘unnecessary luggage’ was concealed weapons. In other words, frisk -them.” - -Bull shook his head and said, “Why’ntcha say so inna first place?” and -started toward Jerry and Sandy. - -Once again Sandy tensed. If only his luck would hold and he could get -through without having Bull find the flare gun! Otherwise.... - -He watched as Bull patted Jerry, none too gently. He realized that, if -Jerry had been wearing a jacket under which to hide the flare gun, it -would surely have been discovered. Soon Bull was finished with Jerry, -and it was Sandy’s turn. Bull frisked him quickly and clumsily, patting -his chest and under his arms, even though it was obvious that he -couldn’t possibly have hidden anything there. Bull’s big hands continued -down to Sandy’s pockets, hesitated for a moment, and stopped right -there. He turned to face Jones. - -“They’re clean,” he said. - -Jones nodded, not paying too much attention to Bull or to the search. “I -didn’t think that they would have had the foresight to bring any -weapons. Still—there’s no sense taking any chances. In this business, -one can’t be too careful.” - -Noticing that Jones was not looking directly at either Bull or -themselves as he said all this, Sandy followed his gaze to the upper -decks of the freighter, wondering what he _was_ looking for. A door -swung open and a man stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. Jones -rose, waved to the man and called, “Captain! Come down! We have a little -surprise for you!” - -Sandy had not known what to expect of the captain of such a ship as -this, but surely, the man who came down the ladder did not look in the -least like anything he might have imagined! He would not have been -really surprised by a bearded giant, or another tough, such as one of -the crew, or even, perhaps, by a turbaned oriental—but this captain was -surely a complete surprise! - -He was a thin, wispy-looking old man—how old, Sandy could not begin to -guess—with a face like a wise preacher’s or perhaps a college -professor’s. He was dressed entirely in white, down to his old-fashioned -white high-buttoned shoes, and he carried a bamboo cane with a gold -head. To finish off this spotless outfit, so out of keeping with his -ship, the Captain wore a pith helmet, such as British officers wear in -the tropics! - -The old man moved briskly down the steep ladder from the upper decks -and, with scarcely a glance at the boys, addressed himself to Jones. - -“Who are these children?” he asked, his voice thin and reedy, but -carrying authority and as sharp as the crack of a whip. - -As Jones explained the presence of the boys on board the freighter, the -Captain looked from them to Jones and back again. When Jones told him -how Bull and Turk had mistaken Sandy’s sloop for his own, the Captain -shifted his gaze to the two sailors, who almost winced under his cutting -stare of scorn. Then, when the tale was done, he devoted his attention -exclusively to Jones once more. - -“What do you want to do about it?” he asked. - -“I leave that entirely up to you,” Jones said. “I want no part of any -violence—if it can be avoided. Besides, you will have them on your -hands, and I’ll be ashore, so that it’s hardly my place to dictate the -conditions of their—er—disposal.” - -Jones rose, leaning casually on his rifle as if it were a walking stick. -“Whatever you want to do is all right with me. Just get rid of them, -that’s all. And do it in a way that won’t attract any suspicions ashore. -I don’t want anyone poking around the island asking questions about -them.” - -The Captain thought for a minute, then answered, “I don’t think we’ll -have anyone poking around the island. Not if we handle this thing right. -They must not, you see, simply disappear. If they just drop out of sight -without a trace, it will surely bring on a search, and someone may have -seen them near your place. No, that won’t do. On the contrary, they must -be found. But they must be found in such a condition that they can -answer no questions—ever. And it must look natural.” - -“Perfect logic,” Jones said. “I agree completely. But how are you going -to manage it?” - -“We will keep them aboard,” the Captain answered, “locked up below. I -will tow their sloop after us. When we are a satisfactory distance from -shore—say a thousand miles—we will put them into their boat and cut them -loose.” - -“But,” Jones protested, “isn’t there a chance that they could make it in -to shore somewhere? Men have managed rougher trips than that in the -past.” - -“Don’t worry about details,” the Captain said in his quiet, scholarly -voice. “I’ll take care of everything. First, we will drop them far out -of any regular shipping lanes. In addition, we will first wreck their -sails, their mast and their rigging as if it had been done by a storm. -When they are finally found, it will be too late to do anything about -them. It will just look as if a storm had wrecked them and blown them -out to sea. It’s a tidy way to operate—no messy violence—and there will -be no clues to lead to your precious island.” - -Jones considered for a minute before answering. “It sounds all right to -me, if you say so. After all, you know your end of the business better -than I do.” - -“Indeed I do,” the Captain answered calmly. - -“Now,” Jones said briskly, dismissing the matter of the boys from his -mind, “we have my other cargo to discuss before our dealings are -finished for this trip.” - -The Captain held up a thin, white hand to stop Jones. “Not now,” he -said. “Our business can wait until we have refreshed ourselves and had a -bit of dinner. Then when it is dark, you can turn over your cargo—if the -terms are satisfactory—and sail home unobserved.” - -He waved his stick at the boys and motioned to two of his crew members. -“Take them below and lock them in an empty cabin. And set a close watch -on them.” - -As Sandy and Jerry were led off by the two crewmen, they saw the Captain -precede Jones to the foot of the deckhouse ladder. He paused and bowed, -indicating that Jones should go first. Somehow, the courtly, -old-fashioned gesture seemed to Sandy more sinister than anything else -he had seen since the start of this day. - - - - - CHAPTER ELEVEN - Escape to Danger - - -Stepping over the high sill of the door that led from the deck to the -passageway, Sandy and Jerry were plunged at once into gloom and -near-darkness. The throb of the freighter’s engines, barely noticeable -on deck, became a roar, and the passage was thick with the smells and -heat from the engine room below. - -They were pushed and shoved along the passage, past a number of doors -which Sandy presumed were the crew’s quarters. On the other side of the -passage, an occasional door opened onto the engine room, a great cavern -of heat and noise, brightly illuminated by lights on all sides, and -crisscrossed by catwalks and ladders. - -Without a word, their guides stopped before a door opposite the main -opening to the engine room. One of them produced a large key ring and, -after a moment’s searching for the right key, unlocked the door. - -Motioning them to enter, the guard stood aside as Sandy and Jerry -stepped into the gloom of a small cabin. Then the door slammed behind -them, the key clicked in the lock, and they were alone. Through the -ventilating slits cut in the top and bottom of the door, they heard one -of their captors. - -“You take the first watch while I go for chow. I’ll bring the kids -something to eat when I come back, then you can get yours.” The other -said something in agreement, and the speaker’s footsteps in the -passageway were soon drowned out in the roar of the engines. - -Sinking to a seat on the bare springs of a bunk with no mattress, Jerry -looked up at Sandy and asked, “What now?” - -“I don’t know,” Sandy admitted. “But at least we got away with the flare -gun, and we may figure out a way to use it.” He lowered himself to the -bare bunk opposite the one Jerry occupied, and surveyed their floating -prison. - -The cabin offered very little promise of help. There were the two double -bunks, both bare of mattresses, four lockers, a sink in one corner and a -single porthole. Going to the porthole, Sandy tried to open it, but with -no success. The “dogs” that secured it, heavy steel latches, were welded -in place, and the glass of the porthole looked too heavy to break. -Obviously, the place had been used as a prison before. Outside of the -porthole, there was nothing but the sea. Even if the glass could be -broken, Sandy didn’t like the idea of dropping down into the black -waters below. That seemed as unpromising a position as the one they were -in now! - -The lockers were the next subject of their exploration but, as they -expected, these proved as empty and bare as the cabin itself. The sink, -the only remaining thing in the room, was the source of no inspiration. - -Settling himself on the bunk once more, Sandy began to roll up his pants -leg. “I guess this flare gun is our only hope at that,” he said. “We -might as well have it ready.” - -He quickly undid the adhesive tape, then stuck the gun in his belt. As -he did so, an idea came to him. - -“Jerry, I think I have it!” he whispered. - -The plan was a simple one—almost too simple to work. But it seemed the -only chance they had. Sandy proposed to wait until the guard came with -their food, then, threatening him with the flare pistol, they would try -to overcome him, tie him up, and make their way to the deck. Once there, -they would have to find a way out. It seemed a slim hope, but what else -could they do? - -Jerry agreed, and whispering quietly, they worked out the best positions -to take to make their attack good. Meanwhile, one more stroke of good -fortune came to them. Jerry found that he still had the roll of adhesive -tape in his pocket, undiscovered in Bull’s quick inspection. It would -come in handy for binding and gagging the guards, if they could once -overcome them. - -Now there was nothing to do but wait. Through the porthole, they could -see the sky growing dark, and the gathering gloom in the cabin raised -their spirits. It was one more bit of aid that might fool their jailer -into thinking the flare gun was a real weapon. The last glow of day was -dying on the horizon when they once more heard voices in the passageway. - -Jerry took his position by the door while Sandy readied the flare gun, -then sat on one of the bunks. The door swung open and their guards -entered, the lead man carrying a tray and his companion behind him. - -As they stepped over the sill, Sandy stood up suddenly, upsetting the -tray. Hot coffee spilled over the lead man, who stepped backward with a -cry. As he did so, Jerry, from his position behind the door, reached out -and knocked the second man to the deck. At the same moment, Sandy raised -his flare gun and aimed. - -“All right,” he said. “I have you covered!” - -“Do what he says,” one of the sailors said. “Do you see that gun? It’s a -flare!” - -Sandy was startled. If they knew it was not a real pistol, why didn’t -they charge him? Why were they cowering away? Then he realized for the -first time that the flare pistol, used as a weapon, must be an awful -thing. Anything that could send a stream of flame hundreds of feet into -the air could surely inflict a terrible wound when used against a man. -He shuddered, knowing he could never use it in this way. But as long as -the sailors didn’t know it.... - -It was short work to silence the men with adhesive-tape gags, and to -tape their hands firmly behind their backs. When this was done, the boys -pushed the sailors into the lockers, taped their ankles together, and -shut them in. The locker doors secured firmly with a latch. Leaving the -cabin silently, Sandy and Jerry locked its door behind them. That -certainly took care of two of their captors. Now, if the rest would just -prove this easy! - -As they stepped away from the door, Sandy whispered, “Let’s get out of -this passage fast. There are too many doors here, and one might pop open -at any minute!” - -They swiftly moved down the length of the passage until they reached the -bulkhead door. Outside, the deck was dark, with the complete blackness -of a night at sea, pierced only by the shaft of light that came from the -passage. Moving now as quickly as they could, they slipped out onto the -deck, and stepped back out of the light. Their shadows had been outlined -boldly against the passage light for only a second. They crouched in the -darkness and waited to be sure they had not been observed. So far, so -good. - -Now that they had gotten this far, Sandy realized, their problems were -just beginning. How were they to get off the ship? And how could they -prevent being followed? - -“Jerry,” he whispered, “we’ve got to see to it that we get away from -here in the fastest boat they have! I wonder if there’s a power boat -around?” - -“There has to be,” Jerry answered. “Every ship carries lifeboats, and -one of them always has power so it can be used as a captain’s launch -when necessary.” - -“Well, let’s find it!” Sandy whispered. - -Gazing over the side, they could see no boat tied up at all. They had to -work their way to the other side of the freighter, without once more -crossing the telltale path of light from the passageway. To do this, -they had to work their way forward to the bow, and then around to the -other side of the ship. Slowly, with as much care as they could muster, -they dropped to their knees and began to crawl. - -They reached the forepeak with no trouble, except the minor difficulties -of crawling over the mess of rope and ship’s gear scattered around the -disordered deck. As they started back, though, two dark forms appeared -in the light of the passage! - -“Down!” Sandy whispered, and he and Jerry dropped flat on the deck -behind the protection of the windlass. Peering around the corner of the -huge machine, with its coil of giant anchor chain, they watched the -figures come nearer. Halfway between them and the deckhouse, the shadows -stopped, leaning against the bulwark, and lit cigarettes. - -In the brief flare of the match, the boys recognized the grim face of -Turk. The other man with him was a sailor they had seen on deck with the -rest of the crew when they had been taken aboard the freighter. He spoke -in a thin, flat, whining voice, with a trace of a foreign accent that -might have had its origin in any country in the world, but which by now -was simply international. The first words the boys could make out came -from Turk. - -“This waiting is getting on my nerves,” he rumbled. “What’s keeping us -from shoving off?” - -“It’s the big businessmen up there,” the sailor whined, jerking his -thumb toward the Captain’s quarters. “Jones wants more for the phony -dough than he got last time, and the Skipper wants to give him less. The -Skipper says he rates a break in the price for getting rid of those kids -for Jones. Jones says he’s taking as much risk as the Skipper.” - -“And how about us?” Turk asked. “Ain’t we in this as much as them? -Where’s the payoff for us?” - -“I don’t know about you,” the sailor answered. “But the Skipper never -let _us_ down yet. He says he’s gotta have better terms so’s to pay us a -bonus. And we’ll get it,” he continued, his voice taking on a mean, -determined tone. “We’ll get it, or else!” - -Sandy and Jerry, scarcely daring to breathe, lay still in the shadow of -the windlass, listening to this exchange. At each word, the black -freighter seemed less and less like a place where they wanted to stay. -Something had to be done, and fast! As each moment wore on, Jones and -the Captain were coming closer to an agreement, and when that agreement -was reached, the ship would sail. And if it sailed with them still -aboard, Sandy thought, their chance of escape would slim down almost to -the vanishing point! - -For a few minutes, Turk and his friend stood silently at the rail and -smoked their cigarettes. The stillness of the scene was marked only by -the glow of coals against the black sea and sky. Then one of the -cigarettes made an arch through the night as it was flipped over the -side. The figures straightened. - -“I’m going back up there,” Turk announced, “and see if I can get any -better idea what’s going on. I’ll listen at the porthole, and you stay -back on the boat deck and cover for me. If anyone comes along, start to -whistle.” - -The two dark figures walked back to the deckhouse and disappeared for a -moment in the shadows. A few minutes later, Sandy saw their forms -outlined briefly against the light from a porthole on the boat deck; -then they passed once more from sight. - -Turning to Jerry, Sandy whispered, “We’d better get going! If they wind -up that business talk before we’re out of here, I don’t give us much of -a chance!” - -Once more, they crept in the shadows, moving with painful care over the -tangled equipment that seemed to cover the decks everywhere. At last, -reaching the ladder from the main deck to the boat deck, they paused and -took stock. Above them, showing only as a dark shape against the dark -sky, loomed the bow of the nearest of the freighter’s four lifeboats. -Slowly, and with the greatest of care, they slipped up the ladder until -Sandy’s head was at a level with the deck above. He waited and watched -to be sure the deck was uninhabited. When he was reasonably certain, he -moved ahead, slower now than before, and slid his body up onto the deck. -Jerry followed suit, and soon the two, pulling themselves forward on the -deck by the flats of their hands and the toes of their sneakers, were -sheltered by a life-jacket box below the lifeboat. - -Turning over, Sandy scanned the bottom of the lifeboat, until, with a -sigh of relief, he saw what he was hoping to see—the screw of a power -boat protruding from the stern. This was the object of their search! - -As he pointed excitedly to the screw, Jerry whispered with puzzlement, -“Now that we’ve found their power gig, what are we going to do with it? -It takes four men to launch these things, and even if we could launch -it, it would make such a noise that we’d have the whole crew on our -necks before it ever hit the water!” - -“I didn’t figure on launching it,” Sandy said. “What I want to do is fix -it so they won’t be able to follow us in it when we make our getaway on -the sloop!” - -“Smart thinking!” Jerry whispered. “There’s very little danger that they -can chase us with the freighter itself. In the first place, by the time -they could turn it around, we’d be out of sight. And if they don’t catch -up with us out here, they won’t dare come too near the harbor. The water -there isn’t deep enough for a ship this size and it would be too risky -for them. But _I_ don’t know too much about engines. How are you going -to disable this one?” - -“I know a few ways,” Sandy answered, “and I’m going to use them all! If -I just put one thing out of order, they might fix it right away. But, -with the mess I’m going to make of that engine, it’ll take them a half -hour or better to get it going. And by then, I hope, we’ll have sailed -out of sight!” - -Working with the greatest of care, the boys unlaced the canvas cover on -the outboard side of the lifeboat. Standing on the rail of the ship, -Sandy swung up and slid in beneath the cover, into a pitch-blackness -that made the night outside seem bright in comparison. - -As Jerry joined Sandy, his added weight made the lifeboat lurch to one -side, and brought a creak from the davits in which the boat was hung. To -the boys under the canvas, it sounded as loud as a scream! Motionless in -the dark, they waited for the thud of running feet, the tearing back of -the boat cover, the glare of flashlights—but none came. The only answer -to the noise was a thin, tuneless whistle from the deck above them. It -was Turk’s fellow sailor, keeping watch for his spying friend, and he -was as afraid of passing noises as the boys were! - -Not daring to move, Sandy and Jerry waited for what seemed hours until -the slight swaying of the lifeboat stopped. As cautiously as they could, -so as not to start it moving again, they changed their positions in such -a way as to balance the boat better. At last they were stationed one on -each side of what Sandy could only hope was the engine compartment. - -“How can you work in the dark?” Jerry whispered. “How will you know -what’s what in there?” - -“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Sandy replied. “Almost all engines have a -lot in common. If I can just get my hands on the engine, I think I’ll -know what to do.” - -Working only by touch, it was not easy to find out how the lid to the -engine compartment was removed. Slowly moving his hands around the -surfaces of the box, Sandy found two hook-eyes, which he carefully -unfastened. On the opposite side of the box, he found two more, which he -also undid. - -“We’re in luck,” he whispered to Jerry. “If this had been a hinged top, -I don’t think we could have opened it. There isn’t enough headroom below -this canvas to raise a boxtop this size.” - -With the greatest of care, making only the smallest of scraping noises, -they removed the heavy lid and placed it across two of the lifeboat’s -seats. - -“I’m ready,” Sandy said. “I’m going to be handing you some parts, Jerry. -I want you to put them in your shirt. We can’t leave them in here, and -if we threw them overboard, the splash would surely be heard. Just be -sure they don’t clank around!” - -Working noiselessly, Sandy ran his hands over the engine, starting from -the top of the block. He touched and counted the spark plugs—four of -them. His own experience with assorted jalopies would come in handy -here, he thought. Carefully, he slipped the wires off the tops of the -spark plugs. Following the wires to their source, he came to the -distributor cap. Two clips held it in place. These were easily removed. -Following the wire that came from the center of the distributor cap, he -came to its end at the spark coil. A small pull removed it. Then he -handed the whole thing, which felt like a mechanical octopus, to Jerry, -who slipped it into his shirt. - -A little more probing brought out two more parts from the distributor, -both quite small. One was the rotor, the other the condenser. “With any -one of these things gone,” Sandy whispered, “they won’t be able to run -this boat!” - -“Great!” Jerry breathed. “Now let’s get going!” - -“Not yet,” Sandy said. “We still have some more to do. I don’t want to -make it too easy for them!” - -The next thing to go was the fuel pump, as Sandy unscrewed from it the -glass bowl through which the gasoline had to pass. This was followed by -a small collection of springs from the choke, the accelerator and the -carburetor. - -“I think that ought to do it,” Sandy said. “Now let’s put this engine -lid back on, so they can’t tell right away that somebody’s been in -here!” - -It took even more care to replace the lid than it had to take it off. It -was a tight fit, and really needed a blow on the top to make it fit -properly on the casing, but this could not be done without making far -too much noise. Finally, they decided to leave it unhooked, rather than -run the risk of giving away their presence in the lifeboat. - -Getting out and dropping soundlessly to the deck was not easy either, -especially for Jerry, with the hardware stored in his bulging shirt -front. Sandy, who had gone first, helped him down, and Jerry landed -beside him with a muted clinking of metal and hard plastic. The slight -noise brought no warning whistle from Turk’s lookout. - -A glance at the deck below showed them why. Their eyes, grown accustomed -to complete darkness, were now able to see quite clearly about the -freighter’s deck. Up forward, near where they had hidden below the -windlass, stood Jones and the white-uniformed little Captain, together -with Turk, Bull, and several other sailors. - -Apparently the business talk was concluded and, much more to the boys’ -concern, the freighter was making ready to hoist anchor and set off for -ports unknown! - - - - - CHAPTER TWELVE - The Race Begins - - -Even as they watched, a working light mounted on the foremast suddenly -flooded the foredeck with brilliance, bringing the shadowy figures into -sharp focus, like actors on a brightly lighted stage. - -Instinctively, Sandy and Jerry shrank back into the shadow of the -life-jacket box, until Sandy realized that the bright light on the -foredeck would make the rest of the ship almost invisible to people in -its rays. - -For a few seconds or more, the boys watched the tableau below them until -several of the sailors ambled over to the windlass. Then Jerry said, -“They’re getting ready to hoist the anchor now. We have to move fast if -we’re going to get to our boat before Jones gets to his!” - -Still exercising the greatest care, they re-laced the canvas where they -had entered the lifeboat, then quietly crept alongside the rails under -the lifeboats until they came to the ladder connecting the boat deck to -the afterdeck. - -This, fortunately, was both deserted and unlighted, the deck crew having -all gone forward to work on the windlass. The boys made their way down -to the point where they had come on board via the rope ladder, which was -still slung over the side, waiting for Jones’s departure. - -Looking over the bulwark, they saw the two sloops below them, bobbing -gently in the swell that washed against the sheer side of the tall -freighter. They looked almost unbelievably peaceful, and Sandy thought -once again about Jones’s comments about the unsuspicious looks of -sailing craft. Next to their trim, small shapes, the freighter looked -every bit as sinister as it had actually proved to be! - -“This is it,” Sandy whispered. “Let’s make it fast!” - -He stepped over the bulwark and disappeared down the rope ladder. Jerry -was as close behind him as he could get without running the risk of -stepping on Sandy’s hands. A moment more brought them to the deck of the -sloop. - -“Now comes the hard part,” Jerry whispered. “We’ve got to get our sails -up and shove off without anyone seeing or hearing us—and it’s not -exactly a quiet job. In fact, if I remember right, our slides squeak -pretty badly in their track. I noticed it when we first took it out, and -made a mental note to oil the track as soon as we got some time.” - -“Maybe we’d better not risk it,” Sandy said. “Is there some way we can -get away from here without having to hoist the sails right away?” - -“Well ...” Jerry said, “if there were enough current, we could drift -off, but I don’t think there is. Besides, it would take a long time, and -I don’t think we’ve got too much time to waste right now.” - -“Suppose we tow it off behind the dinghy?” Sandy asked. “You know, the -way we brought it out of the harbor for the first day’s sail.” - -“Good!” Jerry exclaimed. But it only took a moment’s search to assure -them that the dinghy was not with them. “Jones must have left it tied to -his mooring,” Jerry said. “That puts us back where we started.” - -“I guess there’s nothing to do but try it with our sails,” Sandy said. -As he started to move forward, Jerry stopped him with a hand on his -shoulder. - -“Wait a minute! I think I know a way to do this! I remember I was once -taught about sculling with the rudder. You use it like an oar. I’ve -never had to try it, but this is probably the best time. C’mon! Let’s -cast off those lines!” - -Working swiftly, Sandy cast off the bow line while Jerry did the same -with the line at the stern. Then both of them pushed off from the side -of the freighter, and the little sloop drifted noiselessly away from the -scarred steel cliff of the huge hull. - -The bright light from the foredeck spilled on the waters around the bow -of the ship, and seemed even to light up the sloop. Sandy only hoped -that whoever was standing lookout on the freighter was within that -circle of light. If he was in the darkness of the upper decks, even the -few dim beams that reflected from the white hull of the little sailboat -would shine out like a warning beacon against the dark waters! - -Sandy worked his way aft over the cabin roof, and dropped into the -cockpit to join Jerry at the tiller. Jerry was carefully working the -tiller backward and forward, making small gurgling sounds as the rudder -swept through the water. - -“Here’s the way it works,” he said. “I’m using the rudder like a single -stern paddle. Lots of boats in the old days used to be run like that. If -the paddle’s properly shaped, it will do a good job of propelling a -boat. They call a long stern oar a sweep, and it’s good enough so that -it’s still used on heavy barges in lots of places around the world.” - -“Won’t it just push the stern around from one side to the other?” Sandy -asked. - -“Not if you do it carefully,” Jerry replied. “What I’m doing is this: I -ease the rudder to one side, slowly, so as not to row with it. Then I -give it a strong pull toward me—like this—and then I shove it halfway -back.” - -As he spoke, he hauled on the rudder, and the stern of the sloop swung -around a bit, but the return motion of the rudder stopped the swinging -action and steadied the sloop on her course. Sandy saw small ripples -form a wake behind the boat as some forward motion was gained. As Jerry -repeated the gentling, pulling and returning of the rudder, the sloop -gained a little more forward speed. Slowly, the rusted sides of the -black freighter slid by them. - -“So far, so good,” Sandy said. “If we keep this up, we’ll be able to get -away before we’re spotted.” - -“I hope so,” Jerry agreed fervently, pulling strongly on his improvised -sweep. By now the sloop was some thirty feet or more away from the -freighter, and heading past the overhanging stern of the big ship. -Suddenly, the stillness of the night was shattered by a roar and clank -of machinery. - -“It’s the windlass!” Jerry cried. “They’re getting ready to haul up the -anchor! Jones must be ready to go over to his boat!” - -Even as he spoke, a flare of work lights came up over the freighter’s -afterdeck, clearly showing Jones and the Captain standing by the head of -the rope ladder, flanked by Turk and Bull. The Captain and Jones were -shaking hands, apparently having concluded a deal on the counterfeit -cargo that pleased them both. Neither of them had as yet looked over the -side to see that one of the sloops was missing. - -“We can’t chance this any more,” Jerry said. “We’re bound to be -discovered in another minute, when Jones starts over the ladder! Let’s -get those sails up now, and do the best we can!” - -“You’re right,” Sandy agreed, swiftly leaping atop the cabin roof to -reach the main halyards. Taking a deep breath, he hauled. With a -screech, the slides moved stiffly up the track, and the mainsail -fluttered overhead. - -Moving quickly, Sandy grasped the jib halyard and hoisted it aloft while -Jerry was fastening the main halyard to its cleat. The sloop began to -make headway in the light breeze. Then, as Sandy joined his friend in -the cockpit, the sloop sailed clear of the shadows that lay below the -stern of the freighter, and into the circle of light that surrounded the -afterdeck. At almost the same instant, a shout rang out from above them. - -“Look! It’s the kids!” It was Turk, who, seeing the sail like a luminous -flag in the water, had sounded the alarm. - -“Get down!” Sandy said, pulling Jerry to the deck of the cockpit. His -action came not a minute too soon for a pistol shot rang out. It was -followed by a volley of shots, as more of the freighter’s crew got into -the action, but the boys were unharmed, although two bullets had hit the -cabin roof and one had plowed a furrow in the deck. - -The shooting stopped after a few more stray shots were fired, the sloop -having by now moved out of effective pistol range. Making the best -headway they could in the light breeze, Sandy and Jerry looked back with -satisfaction to see the freighter’s crew working feverishly at the -davits to get the ship’s power gig into the water. - -“If we can just get enough lead time,” Jerry said fervently, “we’ll make -it to shore well ahead of them!” - -“What if Jones follows in his boat?” Sandy asked. - -“We’ll worry about that if he does,” Jerry answered. “He’s a good -sailor, but we have a lead on him. It’ll be our first race, if it -happens, and I sure hope we win!” - -By now the power gig was hanging over the side, its davits having been -swung into launching position. The canvas cover had been removed, and -several sailors clambered in, waiting for the boat to be lowered. With a -creak of blocks and tackle, the lifeboat was swiftly dropped to the -water. The boys could see someone bending over the engine compartment, -trying to get the boat started. - -“Jones’ll have a long wait, if he wants to go after us in that!” Sandy -chuckled. “That ship is so sloppy, I’ll bet it will take them an hour -just to find the parts they need, once they discover what’s wrong!” - -But apparently Jones wasn’t going to wait. He had sized up the situation -quickly—too quickly—and was going over the side and down the rope ladder -to the other sloop! - -“Oh-oh!” Jerry said. “He’s going to try to catch us in the other sloop! -And we haven’t got more than a few hundred yards on him yet. This is -going to be some race!” - -Some race! Sandy realized once again how different the meaning of speed -is to a sailor and to a landsman. Here they were, in a gentle breeze on -a calm sea, preparing to race for their very lives—and they would -probably not sail faster than he could walk! - -Consulting the stars, Jerry set a downwind course, and the boat headed -slowly but steadily toward the mainland. - -“We’d do better on some other point of sail,” Jerry said, “but there’s -one consolation.” - -“What’s that?” Sandy asked. - -“He’s got to sail on the same course we take, so he can’t take advantage -of any more favorable wind than the one we get. That, and the fact that -the boats are the same, at least puts us on an even footing.” - -By now, Jones and a crew member were in the sloop, and were getting the -sails up. Sandy watched as the mainsail caught the light from the -freighter, followed almost immediately by the jib. The sloop swung about -into the trail of light that danced on the water between them and the -big ship, and set her sails for a downwind tack. - -Small waves whispered softly at the bow, and bubbles gurgled quietly in -the wake. The mainsheet hardly pulled at all in Sandy’s hand as the sail -caught all the wind there was to catch. Hardly seeming to move at all, -the sloop glided slowly ahead in the soft night breeze. - -And the toughest race they would ever sail was under way! - - - - - CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A Race of Mistaken Identity - - -“Trim your main!” Jerry said. “Haul back a little ... more ... no, let -it out a shade ... that’s it! Cleat it down there!” - -Sandy followed Jerry’s directions carefully, hauling at the sheet to get -the sail set to its best position. Like the airplane wing it resembles, -the sail must be perfectly shaped to get the maximum advantage of the -wind. Sandy had learned that this was true even on a downwind run, where -a sail let out too far will spill wind, and a sail sheeted in too close -will miss too much wind. - -Rejoining Jerry on the cockpit seat, Sandy looked aft to catch sight of -their pursuer. He was surprised to see the amount of water that now -separated them from the freighter, which seemed a spot of bright light -far behind them. Against the light he could see the silhouetted shape of -Jones’s sloop. It seemed to him that they were closer than before, and -he motioned Jerry to turn and look. - -“You’re right,” Jerry said, guessing at the question that had formed in -Sandy’s mind. “They’re closing in on us, all right. That Jones is sure -some sailor! We’ll have to do better than this if we’re going to get -ashore before they sail within pistol range!” - -“What can we do?” Sandy asked, his brow wrinkling under the blond -forelock that hung over his eyes. - -“The only thing we can do is put on more sail,” Jerry answered. “That -won’t be an easy job with just the two of us. And you’ve never handled a -spinnaker.” - -“You’d better give me some fast instruction,” Sandy breathed. “First, -what’s the spinnaker?” - -“It’s a big oversized jib, cut like a parachute,” Jerry replied. “You -saw a few out in the bay yesterday, remember? It’s that big sail that -flies out ahead of the boat. You can only use it on downwind sailing, -unless you’re a lot better sailor than I am, and it’s the best pulling -power you can have when the wind’s at your back.” - -“What do I have to do to help you?” Sandy asked. - -“I’ll have to put it up myself,” Jerry told him. “Your job will be to -hold a steady course and to keep the sails trimmed the way they are -now.” Sandy grinned. “I won’t look around to see how other boats look -this time,” he promised. Then he sobered. “I’ll do my best to keep her -sailing right. What’ll you be doing?” - -“I’ll have to drop the jib, which will lose us some speed for a minute. -Then I’ll hoist the spinnaker, with a pole to the tack—that’s the -corner—to swing it outboard to where it will catch the wind. Then—but we -can’t waste time talking about it! I’ll show you now and explain some -other time!” - -Both boys took another look back, but by now the night had swallowed up -Jones’s sloop, and all they could see was the glow of the freighter, -growing rapidly smaller and fainter behind them. - -“I wonder if Jones has seen that?” Sandy said. “The freighter must be -under way. They haven’t even waited for him, to see how things turn -out!” - -“I’m not surprised,” Jerry said. “If Jones catches us, they don’t have -anything to worry about. And if he doesn’t ... they want to be a long -way away from here!” - -Turning their attention back to their own problem, Jerry asked Sandy to -go below to the cabin’s sail locker and pull out the sail bags, but not -to light even a match. The odds were that Jones still could not see -them, and it was better to keep it that way. - -“How will I know which is the spinnaker?” Sandy asked. - -“We only have two sails below,” Jerry answered. “We’re flying the main -and genoa jib now. That means that the only bags will have the working -jib and the spinnaker. The working jib is the small bag, and the -spinnaker will be as heavy as the mainsail.” - -In the cabin of the sloop it was as dark as it had been under the cover -of the lifeboat. Sandy groped about, searching for the sail locker, -which was forward of the mast, in the peak of the boat. Finally, after -tripping a few times, and once bumping his head badly, he felt his hands -come in contact with the brass catch that secured the locker. - -Inside were several sail bags, most of them empty. He came on one that -contained a sail, but it was obviously the small working jib. Worried -now, Sandy burrowed deeper into the locker, and at last found a bag that -seemed heavier than the first. Relieved, he carried it out to the -cockpit, where Jerry was anxiously looking aft. - -“Look! If you look just about four points off our stern, you can see -her!” - -Sandy squinted to where Jerry had pointed, and made out a dim white -shape through the darkness, surely no more than a few hundred yards -behind them! - -“They’re closing in!” Jerry said. “I’d better rig this thing as fast as -I can!” - -He took the sail bag from Sandy, and crawled forward over the cabin. -Sandy anxiously handled the tiller, hoping that he was keeping the -course. Overhead, a few dim stars made points of light, and he leaned -back to line up the masthead with one of them. In his right hand, the -mainsheet felt light—too light—and he worried that he had so little -control over it. What if they were to jibe now, as they had on the first -day’s sail? What if the sails were not properly trimmed? And how could -he be sure they were? How long would it take Jones to catch up with -them? Taking his eyes for a minute from the star and the masthead, he -saw Jerry kneeling on deck, doing something with the sail. Then he -looked back to the masthead, and fixed all his attention on keeping the -boat on a steady course. - -Suddenly, Jerry was back in the cockpit with him, and the sail bag, -still full, was dropped on the deck at his feet. - -“What’s wrong?” he asked. - -“Sandy, was that the only heavy bag there was?” Jerry asked. - -“That’s right. The only other bag was so light it must have been the -jib. What’s the matter?” - -Jerry shook his head slowly. “We’re in real trouble now,” he answered. -“That’s not a spinnaker at all. It’s a spare genoa!” - -“But—but I saw the bag marked spinnaker the other day!” Sandy -spluttered. “Why would Uncle Russ put a spare genoa in a bag marked for -a spinnaker?” - -“He wouldn’t,” Jerry answered. “And what’s more, he didn’t. I was able -to make out the letters on the bag, and they said ‘genoa.’ Brace -yourself for a shock, buddy. I _know_ we had a spinnaker aboard. And I -know we didn’t have two jennies!” - -“Do you mean we’ve done it again?” Sandy gasped. - -“That’s right,” Jerry said sadly. “We goofed again, and took Jones’s -boat instead of yours!” - -There was nothing to say. They turned in silence to look aft at the dim -white shape that followed them through the night, and that slowly ate -away at the distance that kept them apart. - - - - - CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Slow-Motion Chase - - -“What can we do now?” Sandy asked. - -“Just what we’re doing,” Jerry answered mournfully. “Just sail the best -we can and hope that he won’t close in on us before we come across some -other boat.” - -“Maybe Jones won’t find our spinnaker,” Sandy suggested. “If he thinks -he’s on his own boat, he knows he hasn’t got a spinnaker below, and -maybe he won’t see any reason to go poking around in our sail locker.” - -“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Jerry said. “We can make a mistake like this—and -make it twice—because neither of us is really familiar with your boat. -But a good sailor like Jones knows his own boat the way he knows his own -living room. He isn’t going to be fooled the same way we were!” - -“Still,” Sandy reasoned, “that’s no guarantee he’s going to go to our -sail locker, is it?” - -“It’s almost a sure bet,” Jerry replied. “He’s probably got Turk looking -around now to see what kind of extra canvas we might have on board, and -when he finds that spinnaker, we can kiss our chances goodbye!” - -“Well, he hasn’t found it yet,” Sandy said stubbornly. “And until he -does, there must be something we can do to get more speed out of this -boat!” - -Stirring out of his gloom, Jerry trimmed the mainsheet and then the jib. -Then suddenly he brightened. “Say! I remember reading about one trick -that might help us. It’s called wing-and-winging. What you do is rig the -jib on the opposite side from the mainsail when you’ve got the wind at -your back. It’s supposed to act almost like a spinnaker.” - -“Well, let’s do it!” Sandy said. “What do you want me to do?” - -“You just hold the course, like before,” Jerry explained. “I’ll go -forward and re-rig. When I tell you to, you uncleat the jenny sheet, and -I’ll swing the sail around on the other side and brace it out. I’ll use -the boat hook for a whisker pole to hold it in place. Maybe this’ll turn -the trick!” - -He clambered forward, and once more Sandy was left alone with the -tiller, the star and the masthead. For a few minutes he thought only of -holding the course, until he heard Jerry’s voice, “Now!” - -Leaning forward, Sandy uncleated the sheet which held the genoa jib in -trim, where it had flown almost useless before the mainsail. He watched -eagerly as Jerry hauled the sail around to the windward side, lashed the -boat hook to the clew and swung the big triangle outboard. Almost -instantly, the jenny started to fill, and Sandy felt the little sloop -start forward. - -Jerry quickly leaped into the cockpit and secured the sheet, trimming -the billowing sail. “It’s working!” he panted. “This may just turn the -trick!” - -They listened in satisfaction to the increased sound of the waves -slipping past the sloop’s sides and muttering in the wake. They could -actually feel the difference in the motion of the boat. - -“Jones has probably had his jib winged out all this time,” Jerry said. -“That’s why he’s been closing in on us so fast. Maybe this will keep the -distance the way it is until we can get ashore or get help!” - -“I sure hope so!” Sandy agreed. - -“Just hope he doesn’t find that spinnaker! As long as we’re both flying -the same sail area, and as long as we’re both heading downwind, there’s -not much he can do to catch us. Running before the wind this way, equal -boats with equal canvas flown in the same way will come out just about -the same. It’s on a reach, or beating against the wind that expert sail -handling really makes the difference. And I’m sure glad we’re not on -some other point of sail, because Jones would outsail us every time!” - -With that thought to cheer them, the boys sailed in silence. Above them, -clouds occasionally blotted out the stars of the dark moonless night, -and it was hard to set a course by any one of them. At the helm, Jerry -steered as much by the feel of the wind on his back as by the stars he -could see. - -Behind them always, never drawing any nearer, but never falling astern, -was the white blur of Jones’s canvas. It was as if the two boats were -tied together with a fixed length of cable or a rigid bar that would not -allow the gap between them to change. - -The race went slowly. It was like a chase in some fantastic dream, Sandy -thought, a dream where he was running in slow motion, trying with every -ounce of strength to make his legs go faster. - -But there was a difference, for here there was no exertion, no strain, -except on the nerves. Here all was, to a casual glance, peaceful and -pleasant. If any boat were to pass, all its passengers would see would -be two pretty sloops, out for a night-time sail. - -Suppose another boat did come? How would they know? Then Sandy -remembered the flare pistol. He had put it on the seat when they had -come aboard! Maybe the bulky brass gun would come in handy again! He -searched the night for some sign of a boat’s running lights, but saw -only the same black sea and sky on all sides. Still, perhaps nearer -shore.... - -The nightmarish quality of the race increased as each moment wore on. It -seemed to Sandy that he was doomed to sail on forever, like the -legendary Flying Dutchman, never getting to shore, never getting within -hailing distance of another boat. - -He strained his eyes against the darkness ahead, and then turned to look -astern at the following shape of Jones’s boat, stubbornly staying with -them at the same fixed distance. He almost wished that Jones would in -some way catch up, just to break the tension. Maybe in a fight, there -would be a chance! At least, they wouldn’t just be sitting and waiting. - -As he watched, something on the pursuing sloop seemed to change. A -shimmer of white sails, then nothing. - -“Jerry!” Sandy whispered, gripping his friend’s arm. “Look back there! I -thought I saw something change in his sails. I couldn’t tell for sure, -but doesn’t it seem to you that the shape is different now?” - -Jerry squinted back at Jones’s boat. “I think you’re right,” he said. -“It looks as if he’s changed his sail trim some way. I wonder what he’s -got up his sleeve this time?” - -“Do you think he’s found our spinnaker?” Sandy asked. - -As if in answer, the white shape behind them altered once more. A new -piece was added to it—a long, flapping shape. As they watched, -fascinated and fearful, but unable to do a thing, the long white -triangle billowed out, changed into a full, taut shape and lifted high -above the deck of Jones’s boat. - -“So that’s a spinnaker,” Sandy said. - -“It sure is,” Jerry answered grimly. “Take a good look at it, because it -may turn out to be the last one we’ll ever see!” - - - - - CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Turn and Turn Again - - -As Jones’s spinnaker filled and lofted, a fresh breeze came up from -astern, tugged at the rigging, tightened the sails and sent the boys’ -sloop ahead at a sharper pace. - -“Feel the breeze!” Sandy said. “Maybe that’ll help us out of trouble!” - -“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Jerry replied. “The same breeze is helping -Jones, and he’s got an awful big sail up to catch it!” - -“Even so, Jerry,” Sandy objected, “I seem to remember you saying -something that ought to give us a chance now....” - -“If you do, you’d better let me know,” Jerry said, “because I sure don’t -feel very full of ideas now.” - -Sandy wrinkled his brow and strained at his memory. There seemed to be -some fact, some idea half remembered from all Jerry had told him, that -ought to help. He looked astern, and the sight of Jones’s sloop bearing -down on them and swiftly closing the gap between the two racing boats, -seemed to have just the stimulating effect he was looking for. - -“I know!” he almost shouted. “Didn’t you say that we can do better on a -reach than a boat with a spinnaker can do downwind?” - -“That’s right,” Jerry said doubtfully. “But we have to sail a downwind -course to get to shore.” - -“Well, what’s your hurry?” Sandy asked. “Why don’t we put off going -ashore just now? I mean, if we take off on a reach, maybe we can lose -Jones in the dark before he can change sails to follow us. If we can -just put some distance between us, we can head back for shore later!” - -Jerry clapped Sandy on the shoulder and shouted, “You’re right!” Then he -looked back at Jones’s boat, clear in shape, but not in detail. “I wish -I could see how he has his spinnaker sheeted, but I can’t make it out. -Still, let’s just take a chance.” He looked at Sandy in admiration. -“Boy, you’re sure catching on fast! That was a real racing sailor’s -idea!” - -Carefully selecting the best course to give their boat the most speed -and to lose the least time in putting about, Jerry instructed Sandy. - -“We’re going to jibe,” he said, “but don’t worry. This is going to be -deliberate, not accidental. It’s the accidental jibes that wreck the -rigging. We’re going to put about this way so’s not to waste time -shifting the genoa jib to the other side. As soon as I’ve got that -whisker pole ready to come off, we’ll do it.” - -He went forward, and after a moment’s work, quickly returned to the -cockpit. “Ready now,” Jerry said. “I’ll take the tiller and you take the -mainsheet. As I start to put about, you haul in on the sheet, until the -boom is right over the keel of the boat. Then I’ll put her hard over, -and you let the sail out evenly on the other side until I say stop. Got -it?” - -Sandy wasn’t sure, but he figured that this was no time for more -detailed instruction on the art of the deliberate jibe. Holding the -mainsheet, and his breath, he silently hoped that he knew what he was -doing. One mistake now—the wrong kind of jibe, that could wreck the -rigging—would surely put them back in Jones’s hands. - -He watched Jerry carefully, and, following his instructions, started to -haul in on the mainsheet. It came very lightly and easily. Remembering -the terrific force of the jibe on the first day’s sailing, though, Sandy -knew enough not to be fooled by appearances. He shortened the sheet so -that he would not be taken unawares when the wind caught the mainsail on -its new tack. - -A few seconds of hauling and shortening brought the mainsail directly -over the center of the boat, with the sheet securing it tightly against -the dangerous sudden jibe. Then, as Jerry brought the sloop about hard -on her new course, the wind took the sail. The boat heeled far over, -leaning its lee side into the waves through which they were cutting with -a new speed. - -Sandy held hard to the sheet, the pull of which was almost cutting his -hand. The load of wind in the taut sail transmitted its strength to the -sheet, and became a hauling, tug-of-war enemy. - -“Let her out!” Jerry shouted. “More! More! Okay ... hold her there!” -Sandy felt some of the pull lessen as he allowed the sail to swing -farther out over the side. “Good,” Jerry said. “Now take the tiller—hold -everything as it is—while I free the jenny and trim it properly.” - -Sandy, the mainsheet wound tightly about his right hand, took the tiller -in his left, while Jerry went forward to do his job. He was burning with -eagerness to look back to see how their maneuver had affected Jones, but -he didn’t dare. He had too much to think about to take his eyes away -even for a second from his own work of sailing. This was the first time -he had handled both the tiller and mainsheet and it was really the first -time he had actually handled the boat. There was a new sense of command -now and of real control. The feel of the boat was complete. It almost -seemed alive. His hands told him how a change of rudder position worked -a change on the sail, or how a shift of the mainsail, a few inches in or -out, affected the pull on the helm. - -In a few minutes, Jerry was back in the cockpit, trimming the genoa -sheet and setting the sail in its best shape ahead of and overlapping -the mainsail. When all was made fast, he took the tiller from Sandy once -more, and the boys were at last free to look back. - -What they saw was not encouraging. As they had expected, the change of -course had increased the distance between them and Jones, but the -distance was not great enough to take them out of sight. A few minutes -of looking revealed that they were not likely to outdistance Jones on -this tack any more than they had on the downwind run. - -“How come we can’t beat him?” Sandy asked. “He surely hasn’t had time to -get his spinnaker down and his genoa up, has he?” - -“He didn’t have to,” Jerry answered. “He’s using his spinnaker now as if -it were a genoa. It’s a good stunt. What he did was to bring the -spinnaker pole forward and lash it to the deck, so that it made a kind -of bowsprit. Then he sheeted the sail flat. It makes a powerful sail -that way.” - -“What if he wants to go on the opposite tack?” Sandy asked. “How can he -put about?” - -Jerry grinned. “I think you’ve done it again, Skipper,” he said. “That’s -the best question you’ve asked all night!” - -“What do you mean?” Sandy asked, puzzled. - -“I mean that he can’t put about on the other tack without an awful lot -of trouble. We can, and we will, and with luck we’ll lose him that way!” - -This time the maneuver was a familiar one of bringing the sloop up into -the wind, shifting the genoa jib and coming off the wind to the new -tack. It was performed smoothly, both boys working like an experienced -crew. - -On the new tack, they looked about once more for Jones’s following -sloop. As they had hoped, the strange zigzag they had described had left -him far astern, but still in sight. Even as they watched, they saw Jones -drop his spinnaker and re-rig it on the new tack. Once more, he was in -pursuit! - -“I’ve never seen anyone handle sails that well,” Jerry said in unwilling -admiration. - -“Do you think we can outmaneuver him?” Sandy asked. - -“Well, we might keep up the sort of thing we’ve been doing,” Jerry -answered. “If we keep changing tacks, we can probably keep him out of -close shooting range all night. Then, by morning, we can hope to see -some other boats and maybe get help. There’s only one thing wrong with -that plan, though.” - -“I know,” Sandy offered. “We’re all right as long as we don’t make any -mistakes. But the minute we goof on one maneuver, we lose the race! -Right?” - -“Right,” Jerry said. “Still, I don’t see what else we can do but try. We -haven’t got much choice.” As they sailed on in silence, Sandy reviewed -their situation. The trouble with their plan was a simple one. They had -to do a perfect job of sailing, and he doubted whether they were up to -it. All Jones had to do was follow their maneuvers, and when they made -their first mistake, he would close in. There was no hope, he could see, -in waiting for Jones to make the first mistake himself. The man was too -good for that. - -If only they could find some new way to take the initiative, things -might work out, Sandy thought. This cat-and-mouse game couldn’t possibly -do any good. Besides, even if they could hold out till day-light, there -was no guarantee that they would get help from any other boat before -Jones could finish the job. After all, lack of light was all that was -preventing Jones from firing at them now. When morning came, it would -most likely be accompanied by a hail of shots! - -The more Sandy thought, the less it seemed that they could find a way -out of their desperate straits. Then his gloomy thoughts were -interrupted by Jerry. - -“Got any more ideas?” he asked. “I know it’s my turn to think up a good -one, but I can’t seem to come up with a thing.” - -“I don’t know,” Sandy answered. “It seems to me though, that we’re going -to have to do something really different now if we’re going to get back -to shore in one piece!” - -Then he suddenly sat up straighter, pushing back his blond forelock. -“Jerry! I think I have an idea!” - -“What is it?” Jerry asked eagerly. - -“It may sound crazy, but I want to go back on a downwind course again!” - -Jerry looked puzzled. “A downwind course? Sandy, we don’t have a chance -that way! That’s the way we were sailing when Jones first started after -us, and with his spinnaker in place, he’ll have us in no time!” - -“I know,” Sandy said, “but I have an idea that might work this time. I -want Jones to get close—real close—to try this!” - -Jerry shook his head. “It sounds nutty to me,” he said, “but if you -think you’ve got something that’ll work, I’m game. Just tell me -what....” - -“Not now, Jerry,” Sandy cut him off. “Let’s just change course while I -work out the details. If we don’t do this now, I might lose my nerve!” - -“I’ll do it,” Jerry agreed, shaking his head doubtfully from side to -side. “But what worries me isn’t that you might lose your nerve. I’m -afraid that you’ve already lost your mind!” - - - - - CHAPTER SIXTEEN - The End of the Race - - -It was still pitch-dark on the Pacific, miles off Cliffport, but Sandy -saw a dim, gray smear of light in the east that told him dawn was not -too far off. Dawn—and the shots it would bring from Jones and Turk! - -If his plan didn’t work now, it would never work, he knew. This was to -be really a one-shot try! But better to try, he felt, than to tack -aimlessly back and forth, waiting for Jones to close in. - -Almost mechanically, Sandy helped Jerry put the sloop about on her new -course before the wind. Once again the genoa jib was held out -wing-and-wing with the boat hook, and once again the mainsheet exercised -only a light pull in his hand. With everything set, Sandy and Jerry -turned their attention to the sloop behind them. - -The pursuing white sails shone dimly through the darkness as Jones -followed them in their course. His spinnaker, released from its duty as -a genoa, was once more flying full and round before him, taking -advantage of every puff of wind at his back. It was a foregone -conclusion that he would catch them now, unless they were even faster -than before in putting about on some new tack. - -Jerry could not stand the suspense a moment longer. “Sandy, what are you -going to do?” he cried. “Whatever it is, if we don’t do it now, we’re -goners!” - -“Not yet,” Sandy muttered. “He’s got to get closer!” - -“If he gets any closer, he’s going to start shooting,” Jerry replied. -“What do we do then?” - -“We’ve got to be ready for it,” Sandy answered. “I expect him to shoot, -and I expect him to start pretty soon. In fact, we’d better get down as -far as possible right now!” - -Both boys sat together on the cockpit deck, Jerry awkwardly steering and -Sandy holding the mainsheet in his left hand. “You steer, Jerry,” he -said. “I’m going to turn around so I can keep an eye on Jones. I expect -the fireworks to start any minute now!” - -“I can do without the entertainment,” Jerry said. Then he added once -more, “Boy, I sure hope you know what you’re doing! If you don’t....” -His voice trailed off. - -Half kneeling, Sandy crouched by the stern seat, keeping as much under -cover as possible. Over the edge of the afterdeck he saw Jones’s sloop, -closer now than it had been ever since their fantastic race had begun. -For some reason, Jones was holding back, not closing in as fast as he -had been before. Sandy knew that he must be puzzled, and trying to -figure out what their next move would be. His success depended on -outthinking them as much as it did on outsailing them, and his skill lay -largely in his ability to guess what maneuver the boys were going to try -next. This time, Sandy thought, he must really be baffled. No one in his -right mind would try to escape as they were doing! - -For minutes that seemed like hours, the chase continued with Jones -making no effort to advance. Then, Sandy realized, Jones made up his -mind to attack. His sails were trimmed fuller, his spinnaker lofted -higher, and a white bow wave broke out to signify Jones’s new speed. -There wasn’t much time left now before things would start popping! - -By now, less than one hundred yards separated the two boats. Not much -more distance, Sandy thought, than a target range. Still, it wasn’t -quite close enough.... - -A shot! As they heard the crack of the pistol, the whine of the bullet -passed overhead! Another shot—another—and a piece of the coaming -splintered off uncomfortably close to Sandy’s ear! - -Jones’s boat surged on, preceded by a rain of shots. Now less than fifty -yards of water were between them! More shots followed, mostly going -through the sails. With a _thunk_, one hit the hull—another gouged up -the deck—a third hit the tiller, not six inches from Jerry’s hand. - -Jerry’s face looked white as he craned his neck to look up at his -friend. “Whatever you’re planning, I wish you’d tell me now,” he said. -“Because I may not be around to see the big moment when it comes!” - -“You’ll be here,” Sandy said, “because the big moment is now! Turn -around with me and watch Jones’s boat. If this works, it’s going to be -something worth watching!” - -As Jerry changed his position, he saw for the first time that Sandy had -the big brass flare gun in his hand! He was cocking it carefully, and -keeping an eye on Jones’s sloop which seemed to be almost ready to ram -them. Lying flat on the foredeck of the pursuing boat, they could -clearly see the figure of Turk, hurriedly reloading his pistol. - -“You’re not going to try to shoot him with that?” Jerry said. “Those -things are way too inaccurate! You won’t stand a chance!” - -“Not him,” Sandy said. “It!” He steadied the flare gun on the edge of -the afterdeck and squinted down its length, aiming at the spinnaker! - -Seeing now what Sandy was attempting, Jerry crouched beside him and held -his breath. Sandy waited till almost the last possible minute until, -just as Turk was raising his pistol to fire once more, he released the -flare. - -A dazzling arc of fire leaped from the brass muzzle straight for the -bellying spinnaker! It landed in a shower of sparks, bright enough to -show them Turk’s astonished face turned upward to see what had hit them. -The shot had hit squarely in the center of the ballooning sail, burning -a small, red-ringed hole which slowly spread. - -Would this be all? Just a spreading ring of coals that would die in a -minute or two? If this was all, it was not enough! Then, just as Sandy -was beginning to fear that he had made a mistake that might well cost -them everything, the sail burst into flame! - -The column of fire shot straight upward into the blackness of the night, -vividly illuminating both boats. In its brilliant light, the boys saw -Turk stand up, black against the flames, then leap overboard. - -“One down!” Sandy said. “But what about Jones?” - -As the flaming spinnaker spread its fire to the mainsail and the mast, -they saw Jones rise in the cockpit, level his rifle and shoot. Six shots -rang out in quick succession, and all six whizzed harmlessly by. Then -Jones flung his empty gun into the sea and turned his attention to the -fire. - -Jerry and Sandy sailed slowly away from the flaming scene, and then -started to sail in a circle around it, still watching Jones. He had -gotten a bucket from below, and was throwing sea water, as fast as he -could scoop it up, over the burning and the unburned parts of the sloop. -The fire was gaining though, and his efforts were obviously doomed to -failure. - -“If he hadn’t been so busy shooting when the fire started,” Jerry said, -“he would have stood a good chance of putting it out. The delay is going -to sink him!” - -Jones worked feverishly until the last possible moment, until the decks -and the cabin were aflame, and the fire had spread to the little -cockpit. Finally, when it was obvious that there was no more he could -do, he kicked off his shoes and jumped over the side. - -“What do we do now?” Sandy asked. “We can’t just leave them there to -drown. They probably deserve it, but I don’t think it’s up to us to -judge what kind of sentence they get.” - -“You’re right,” Jerry agreed. “But if we take them aboard, we won’t -stand much of a chance against them. Why don’t we try to find them and -toss them a couple of life jackets so they can stay afloat while we make -up our minds?” - -It was no trouble to find Turk, who came swimming up to the side to beg -to be taken aboard. Sandy kept the empty flare pistol aimed at him while -Jerry looked for the life jackets. When he had found them, he tossed one -over the side, and Turk struggled into it. Then, still frightened of the -flare gun which he did not know was empty, he held up his hands tamely -to allow Jerry to tie them together. - -“Now will ya lemme come on board?” he pleaded. - -“I don’t think so,” Sandy answered. “I think you’ll be safer at the end -of a long line. Just relax, and we’ll tow you back to shore!” - -With Turk in tow, the sloop handled rather sluggishly as the boys -circled the scene of the fire searching for Jones. The bright light of -the flames had died to a glowing, dull orange which was soon to go out -altogether as the sloop settled lower and lower in the water. - -“What we need is a searchlight,” Jerry said. “We may never find him -unless he swims to us the way Turk did!” - -“Listen!” Sandy said. “If I’m not mistaken, I hear a searchlight coming -now!” - -Turning in the direction of the new sound of powerful marine motors, -they were met with a bright searchlight beam, which swept from them to -the burning sloop and back again. For the first time since their -adventure had started, Sandy felt a genuine feeling of relief, as the -Coast Guard cutter reversed its engines and came to a neat stop -alongside. - - - - - CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Another Discovery - - -With the arrival of the Coast Guard, the problem of finding Jones solved -itself. He quickly realized the hopelessness of his position and swam in -from the darkness toward the cutter and the sloop, tamely giving himself -up. - -It was only after he and Turk had both been taken on board the Coast -Guard vessel and placed under guard that the captain of the cutter, -Lieutenant Ames, started to ask the necessary questions. - -He listened, absorbed in the story, until Sandy had finished talking. -Then he sighed. “That’s quite a yarn, boys. It sounds pretty wild. For -your sakes, I hope that you can show some evidence to back it up. -Otherwise, all we have is your word. Now, your word may be good enough -for me—” he held up a hand to forestall Sandy’s objections—“but it’s -going to take more than that to make a charge of counterfeiting stick in -a court of law.” - -“We’ve _got_ more than that!” Sandy said angrily. “We can show you the -island, and unless I miss my guess, we’ll find Jones’s counterfeiting -presses there!” - -“I hope so,” Lieutenant Ames said. “Meanwhile, since you’ve made charges -against these men, I’ll hold them in custody until we get ashore. Then -I’ll turn them and the whole case over to the FBI, where it belongs.” - -His official statement done, Lieutenant Ames relaxed into a boyish grin. -“You can get those scowls off your faces now,” he said. “I just wanted -you to realize that we’ve got to have good, solid proof before this -business is over with. As for me, I believe your story, and I think the -FBI will, too.” - -“I’m not too worried about proving our story about Jones and Turk,” -Sandy said. “But what worries me is how we’re going to get the -freighter, now that it’s out of U.S. coastal waters.” - -“The Navy will take care of them,” Lieutenant Ames said. “But that -reminds me, you didn’t tell me the name of the freighter, and we’ll need -to radio that to the Navy right away.” - -“I noticed the name on the lifeboat,” Jerry said. “It was the _Mary N. -Smith_, from Weymouth.” - -“No!” Sandy said. “You must have gotten it mixed up in the darkness. I -saw it clear as day on the stern. It was the _Martin South_ from -Yarmouth!” - -“I’m sure I had it right,” Jerry said. “I remember thinking to myself -that it was a pretty innocent, girlish name for such a dirty freighter!” - -“Maybe you’re both right,” Lieutenant Ames said. “It sounds to me as if -both names have a lot in common. They probably have a set of phony -papers under each name—and maybe under three or four more names that -sound a lot like those. That way, all they have to do is paint out and -change a few letters after each port, instead of having the whole job to -do. It allows them to make quick shifts of identity.” - -“It also lets them explain that they were picked up because of an -accidental similarity of names, in case of trouble,” Jerry put in. “I -wonder what name they’re using now,” he added. - -“That’s pretty easy to guess,” the Coast Guard officer said. “If I were -changing names after leaving a port, I’d paint the bow and stern while I -was at anchor, and leave the lifeboats and other things for when I was -at sea. My guess is that we’ll find them sailing as the _Martin South_ -from Yarmouth.” - -“Unless,” Sandy added, “unless they decided to change it to something -else while at sea, after the trouble. After all, they have no idea -whether Jones got us or we got him, and they’ll probably be expecting to -get picked up.” - -“Well, we won’t take any chances,” Ames said. “I’ll radio the Navy now -to be on the lookout for any freighter with a name anything like _Martin -South_ or _Mary N. Smith_. And if I know those boys, we’ll have a report -on them within the next few hours!” - -After giving his instructions to the radio operator, Ames decided it was -time to head for shore and turn over Jones, Turk and the boys to the -FBI. It was decided to take the sloop in tow behind the cutter, and -Sandy went over the side to find a towing line to hand up to the -cutter’s deck. - -“Come on over with me,” Sandy said, “and I’ll show you some of the -bullet holes we’re carrying. They ought to help support our story!” - -Lieutenant Ames followed Sandy over the side and joined him on the deck -of the little sloop, where he examined the holes in the sail and the -furrows in the deck and the coamings. “They sure came close!” he said. -“You’re pretty lucky to be here in one piece now.” He ran his finger -thoughtfully along a deep scar in the coaming near where Sandy’s head -had been, and whistled low when he saw the splintered spot on the -tiller. - -Lieutenant Ames followed Sandy below in search of the spare mooring -line. (The original one had been left dangling from the deck of the -freighter.) He stood stooped over in the low cabin, surveying the trim -accommodations. At last, Sandy found a line that would do, stowed away -up forward with the anchor. - -Joining Ames in the cabin, he pointed to the locker above the compact -galley. “There’s where we found the money when we went looking for the -canned food,” he said. “It was filled up all the way to here,” he -indicated, sliding back the locker door. - -“What do you mean, _was_?” the Coast Guard officer asked with a gasp. -The open locker door revealed the stacked counterfeit, untouched, just -as the boys had first seen it! - -“Whew!” Sandy sighed. “Well, I guess _that_ takes care of our case -against Jones!” - -As they towed the sloop back to Cliffport, heading into the bright -colors of a Pacific sunrise, they pieced together what must have -happened. - -“From what we overheard on the freighter,” Sandy said, “Jones and the -freighter captain were both dissatisfied with the original deal they had -made for the counterfeit money. Jones wanted more for the stuff, because -of the risk he had run with us and because of the added chances he was -taking if we disappeared from Cliffport. A local investigation of our -disappearance might turn up someone who had seen us near his island.” - -“Right,” Jerry added. “And the Captain wanted a larger share than usual -for himself because of the risk he was running in getting rid of us for -Jones. They bargained about it for a long time.” - -Lieutenant Ames nodded. “And Jones wasn’t taking any chances by bringing -the money on board until his deal had been settled. He must have been -going for it when you saw him and the Captain shaking hands on deck. And -the reason he was so desperate when he saw you sailing off was that he -knew you were not only escaping, but escaping with the evidence!” - -“I guess it’s not always a bad thing,” Sandy laughed, “to make the same -mistake twice!” - - - - - CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Homeward Bound - - -Three days later, the case ended where it had really begun—back in the -Cliffport Boat Yard. Only this time, Sandy and Jerry picked their way -over the timbers and rails with Lieutenant Ames instead of with Sandy’s -Uncle Russ. - -“I guess you boys are glad this is all over,” he said. “I suppose you’re -all set for your trip home now?” - -“We sure are,” Jerry said. “We just need to buy a few things, and we’re -ready.” - -“It was sure nice of the FBI to let us have Jones’s sloop as part of the -reward,” Sandy added. “I felt pretty bad when I saw my boat on fire. I -was sure that if we ever got back to shore, we’d be taking the train -home!” - -“There was no sense in keeping it,” Ames said. “Not even for evidence. -We had all the evidence we needed with that bundle of counterfeit -money—and even more than that, with the printing press and the plates we -found at Jones’s little resort. And everyone agreed that you ought to -have it.” - -They walked along the sea wall until they reached the corner of the -shed, where Lieutenant Ames suddenly stopped. “As long as you’re -thanking the FBI for the boat,” he said, “I think you might as well -thank the Coast Guard too!” - -“Well, of course,” Sandy said, puzzled. “I only meant that it was the -FBI who really had title to it, and they were the ones who decided.... I -mean, we’re grateful to you all.” - -Ames laughed. “I don’t want to keep you in the dark,” he said. “The FBI -gave you the boat, all right, but we decided to pitch in a little, too. -Look!” - -They turned the corner of the boat-yard shed. In front of them, resting -in a high cradle, was the sloop, freshly painted and gleaming in the -sun, her sides as smooth as glass. - -After both boys had thanked Lieutenant Ames profusely, Jerry asked, “How -did you ever get so much done in just three days?” - -“Oh, that’s the Coast Guard way with boats,” Ames said and he laughed. -“A whole gang of the boys decided to go to work on her, and we did in -three days what would take most boat yards a week or two. It started -when we decided to fix up the bullet scars, and it just didn’t stop -until we had finished the whole thing!” - -Climbing to the deck, they inspected the newly painted cabin and -cockpit, the freshly varnished coamings and mast, the almost invisible -repairs on the decks. - -“We’ll have her launched within the next hour,” Lieutenant Ames said. -“Why don’t you go into town to buy whatever you need in the meanwhile? -It shouldn’t take you too long to get stores for a short trip.” - -“That’s a good idea,” Sandy said. “But we’re going to need more than the -regular stores. I’m going to spend some of that reward money right away -on a new spinnaker. That’s one thing I’ve decided never to be without -again!” - -“Not only that,” Jerry added, “but we want to get some more shells for -the flare pistol. I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable without that -on board!” - -“There’s something else, too,” Sandy said. “I think we ought to think up -a name for this boat right away, and pick up some brass letters for the -stern. I don’t want to keep on making mistakes!” - -Ames joined in the laughter, then said, “That’s one thing I think you -don’t have to do. That is, unless you don’t like the name the Coast -Guard picked out for you!” - -Rushing to the stern, Sandy and Jerry leaned over to see the shiny brass -letters screwed to the counter of their sloop. Looked at upside down, -they spelled: - - REWARD - - - SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES - - 1. BLACK TREASURE - -Sandy Steele and Quiz spend an action-filled summer in the oil fields of -the Southwest. In their search for oil and uranium, they unmask a -dangerous masquerader. - - 2. DANGER AT MORMON CROSSING - -On a hunting trip in the Lost River section of Idaho, Sandy and Mike -ride the rapids, bag a mountain lion, and stumble onto the answer to a -hundred-year-old mystery. - - 3. STORMY VOYAGE - -Sandy and Jerry James ship as deck hands on one of the “long boats” of -the Great Lakes. They are plunged into a series of adventures and find -themselves involved in a treacherous plot. - - 4. FIRE AT RED LAKE - -Sandy and his friends pitch in to fight a forest fire in Minnesota. Only -they and Sandy’s uncle know that there is an unexploded A-bomb in the -area to add to the danger. - - 5. SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA - -A pleasant Christmas trip turns into a startling adventure. Sandy and -Jerry participate in a perilous dog-sled race, encounter a wounded bear, -and are taken as hostages by a ruthless enemy. - - 6. TROUBLED WATERS - -When Sandy and Jerry mistakenly sail off in a stranger’s sloop instead -of their own, they land in a sea of trouble. Their attempts to -outmaneuver a desperate crew are intertwined with fascinating sailing -lore. - -PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER - - - - - * * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---Silently corrected apparent typographical errors; left non-standard - spellings and dialect unchanged. - ---In the original, the last word in the text was printed upside down. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROUBLED WATERS*** - - -******* This file should be named 50353-0.txt or 50353-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/0/3/5/50353 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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} - - - div.verse { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - div.bq { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:23em; } -/* book advertisements */ - p.bkad {font-size:125%; font-weight:bold; margin-top:2em; max-width:20em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.bkpr {font-size:90%; } - p.bkrv { } - dl.blist dt { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.blist, dl.biblio { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - - h1.pg { margin-top: 0em; - max-width: 80%; } - h2.pg, h3.pg { margin-top: 1em; - font-style: normal; - margin-bottom: 1em; - max-width: 80%; } - p.pg { max-width: 80%; } - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - -</style> -</head> -<body> -<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Troubled Waters, by Robert Leckie</h1> -<p class="pg">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world 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 <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p class="pg">Title: Troubled Waters</p> -<p class="pg"> Sandy Steele Adventures #6</p> -<p class="pg">Author: Robert Leckie</p> -<p class="pg">Release Date: October 31, 2015 [eBook #50353]</p> -<p class="pg">Language: English</p> -<p class="pg">Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p class="pg">***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROUBLED WATERS***</p> -<p> </p> -<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan,<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="img"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Troubled Waters" width="500" height="775" /> -</div> -<p class="center">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</p> -<p class="center"><span class="sc">Black Treasure</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Danger at Mormon Crossing</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Stormy Voyage</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Fire at Red Lake</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Secret Mission to Alaska</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Troubled Waters</span></p> -<div class="box"> -<h1>Sandy Steele Adventures<br /> -<br /><i>TROUBLED WATERS</i></h1> -<p class="tbcenter">BY ROGER BARLOW</p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">SIMON AND SCHUSTER</span> -<br /><i>New York, 1959</i></p> -</div> -<p class="csmaller">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED -<br />INCLUDING THE RIGHT OF REPRODUCTION -<br />IN WHOLE OR IN PART IN ANY FORM -<br />COPYRIGHT © 1959 BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. -<br />PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. -<br />ROCKEFELLER CENTER, 630 FIFTH AVENUE -<br />NEW YORK 20, N. Y.</p> -<p class="csmaller">FIRST PRINTING</p> -<p class="csmaller">LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 59-13882 -<br />MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA -<br />BY H. WOLFF BOOK MFG. CO., INC., NEW YORK</p> -<h2 class="toc">CONTENTS</h2> -<dl class="toc"> -<dt class="jr"><span class="jl"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></span> <span class="small">PAGE</span></dt> -<dt><span class="cn">1 </span><a href="#c1">An Unusual Gift</a> 9</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">2 </span><a href="#c2">Make Ready to Sail!</a> 20</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">3 </span><a href="#c3">Shakedown Cruise</a> 33</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">4 </span><a href="#c4">The Man with the Gun</a> 51</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">5 </span><a href="#c5">Storm Fears</a> 67</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">6 </span><a href="#c6">Something Lost—Something Found!</a> 75</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">7 </span><a href="#c7">A Million Dollars’ Worth of Trouble</a> 82</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">8 </span><a href="#c8">Double Blackout</a> 87</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">9 </span><a href="#c9">To the Freighter</a> 97</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">10 </span><a href="#c10">Aboard the Floating Prison</a> 108</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">11 </span><a href="#c11">Escape to Danger</a> 120</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">12 </span><a href="#c12">The Race Begins</a> 136</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">13 </span><a href="#c13">A Race of Mistaken Identity</a> 146</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">14 </span><a href="#c14">Slow-Motion Chase</a> 153</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">15 </span><a href="#c15">Turn and Turn Again</a> 160</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">16 </span><a href="#c16">The End of the Race</a> 169</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">17 </span><a href="#c17">Another Discovery</a> 177</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">18 </span><a href="#c18">Homeward Bound</a> 183</dt> -</dl> -<div class="img"> -<img src="images/pmg006.jpg" alt="CLIFFPORT CALIFORNIA" width="500" height="551" /> -<p class="center i">CLIFFPORT CALIFORNIA</p> -</div> -<div class="img"> -<img src="images/pmg006a.jpg" alt="SLOOP" width="500" height="452" /> -<p class="center i">SLOOP</p> -</div> -<dl class="int"><dt>(1) <i>Mainsail</i></dt> -<dt>(2) <i>Jib</i></dt> -<dt>(3) <i>Mast</i></dt> -<dt>(4) <i>Boom</i></dt> -<dt>(5) <i>Shrouds</i> (<i>standing rigging</i>)</dt> -<dt>(6) <i>Headstay</i> (<span class="hst"> ”</span><span class="hst"> ”</span><span class="hst"> )</span></dt> -<dt>(7) <i>Backstay</i> (<span class="hst"> ”</span><span class="hst"> ”</span><span class="hst"> )</span></dt> -<dt>(8) <i>Rudder</i></dt> -<dt>(9) <i>Tiller</i></dt> -<dt>(10) <i>Mainsheet</i></dt> -<dt>(11) <i>Hawk</i></dt> -<dt>(12) <i>Halyards</i></dt></dl> -<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> -<h2 id="c1"><span class="small">CHAPTER ONE</span> -<br />An Unusual Gift</h2> -<p>Sandy Steele slowly put down the phone and -pushed his blond cowlick back from his brow. Excitement -and confusion were mixed in equal parts -in his expression as he turned to his father, John -Steele, who stood leaning against his workbench, -idly tossing a piece of quartz crystal in the air.</p> -<p>“Wow!” Sandy said. “Leave it to Uncle Russ to -come up with a real surprise!”</p> -<p>“It certainly seems to be a habit of his,” John -Steele smiled. “What do you think of this particular -surprise?”</p> -<p>“I hardly know what to think,” Sandy answered. -“The question is, what do you and Mother think? -I mean, is it all right if I go—if I can find somebody -to go with me?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div> -<p>“Your mother and I discussed this with your -Uncle Russ before he called you,” Sandy’s father -said, “so I guess that’s one worry you don’t have -to consider. The only problem you have is finding -somebody who knows how to handle a boat, and -who’ll be interested in making this trip with you.”</p> -<p>Wrinkling his forehead in thought, Sandy swung -his gangling six-foot frame up on to the workbench -next to his father. “How about you, Dad?” -he asked. “Do you know anything about sailing -a boat?”</p> -<p>His father shook his head. “Sailing is hardly a -skill that a government field geologist needs to -develop. My work is with rocks and minerals—the -dryest kind of dry land. What I know about water, -you could carve on granite and put in your watch -pocket!”</p> -<p>“Geology didn’t make you into an inventor, a -chemist, an electrical engineer, a carpenter and -gosh knows what else,” Sandy answered, waving -around him at the crowded workshop with its confusing -mass of equipment. “I just thought you -might have done some reading on this subject, -too.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div> -<p>John Steele smiled. “As the proud but confused -owner of a new sailboat, one of the first things -you’ll learn is that there’s a world of difference -between theory and practice. I’ve been out on a -boat a few times; years ago, though. I’ve also read -some books on the subject, as you thought. But all -I know is that I don’t know anything.” He put -down the quartz crystal and moved away from the -workbench. “No,” he said, “if you’re going to be -able to accept your Uncle Russ’s offer of a sailboat -as a gift, and if you’re going to sail it on a three-day -trip down from Cliffport, you’ll have to find -someone with practical knowledge to help you -do it.”</p> -<p>Sandy frowned in concentration. “Finding a -sailor in Valley View is going to be like finding -a ski instructor in the Sahara Desert!” he said. -“Why, this town is almost one hundred miles inland -from the ocean!”</p> -<p>“That’s true,” John Steele said; “but it seems -to me that I once heard you and one of your -friends talking about sailing. If I’m not mistaken, -it was Jerry James, and it sounded to me at the -time as if he knew what he was talking about.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> -<p>“Of course!” Sandy said, slapping his forehead -in exasperation. “I don’t know why I didn’t think -of it! Jerry was a Sea Scout in Oceanhead before -his family moved to Valley View. It’s just that he’s -become so much a part of this town that I forget -he didn’t grow up here with the rest of us. I think -he was a Sea Scout for about three years, and he -had been sailing before he ever joined up. I’m -sure he can do it!”</p> -<p>“Well,” his father said, “you’d better hunt him -up fast and find out whether he can and will. Your -uncle expects us to call him back within a couple -of hours to give him an answer, because he’s leaving -the country in two days and he wants to get -this settled before he goes.”</p> -<p>He had hardly finished his sentence before -Sandy was out of the workshop, on his bike, and -tearing down the tree-shaded street. He was sure -that Jerry would be able to do it! He remembered -their conversation well, now that his father had -reminded him of it, and he recalled that Jerry had -said that he practically grew up on boats, and that -they were the only thing that he missed since moving -to Valley View. In the close friendship that -had grown up between them in the last couple of -years, Sandy could not think of one time that Jerry -had promised something that he did not deliver. -If he said he could do something, he could do it! -Sandy smiled, remembering Jerry’s early days in -Valley View, his modest admission that he “could -play a little baseball,” and his first day on the -diamond. Jerry had immediately shown himself -to be the best high school catcher in the county. -With Sandy as pitcher, they had developed into -an almost unbeatable battery.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div> -<p>As he pedaled toward the drugstore owned by -Jerry’s father, Sandy hoped that they would be -able to carry their teamwork on in this new venture. -He could still hardly believe his Uncle Russ’s -offer of a sailboat, provided he could find someone -to teach him how to sail. Like most boys, he had -read and enjoyed sea stories, although many of the -words used were strange and meaningless to him. -In his reading, he had often pictured himself at -sea, steering a tall ship through white-capped seas. -A confused series of sailing words went through -his mind: bow, stern, helm, topgallant sails, mizzen, -poop deck, quarter-deck, galley, batten the -hatches, go aloft....</p> -<p>He was suddenly brought back to land as he -narrowly missed running his bike into Pepper -March, who refused to hurry for a mere bike. -Putting the sea dreams firmly out of his mind, he -continued more carefully until he pulled up in -front of James’s Drugstore, where he put his bike -in the rack under the green-and-white striped -awning and hurried into the cool, vanilla-smelling store.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div> -<p>Jerry was behind the counter, making up a pineapple -ice-cream soda for Quiz Taylor who, with -two empty glasses in front of him, was impatiently -waiting for the third.</p> -<p>Sandy climbed onto the stool next to the stubby -Quiz and impatiently waited until Jerry was -through making the soda. When the concoction -was safely delivered into Quiz’s eager hands, Sandy -said, “Jerry, I’ve got some real exciting news! In -fact, it’s so exciting that I didn’t want to tell you -while you still had that soda in your hands. I was -afraid you’d toss the whole thing into the air!”</p> -<p>Having firmly secured both his friends’ attention, -Sandy told them about the phone call from -his Uncle Russ, the offer of the boat, the need for -instruction and the whole story. When he had -finished, Jerry’s lantern-jawed face was lit up with -a 500-watt grin.</p> -<p>“It sounds as if this is going to be the best vacation -of my life!” he said. “A boat! I can hardly -wait to get going!”</p> -<p>Sandy sighed with relief. “Then you’re sure you -can handle it?” he asked.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div> -<p>“That’s a good question,” Jerry said, running a -hand over his close-cropped inky hair. “To tell -you the truth, I don’t know because you haven’t -told me yet what kind of a boat it is. There are -plenty that I wouldn’t even say I could act as a -decent crew member on. Do you know what kind -it is?”</p> -<p>“Why ... why ... it’s a sailboat!” Sandy -said. “I mean, that’s all I know about it. Does it -make much difference?”</p> -<p>Jerry laughed. “There are almost as many different -kinds of boats as there are people,” he said. -“Nobody but a real Master Mariner would just -answer that he could sail anything. It’s like being -an airplane pilot. If you got your pilot’s license -flying a Piper Cub, you wouldn’t be exactly ready -to fly a four-engine jet bomber!”</p> -<p>“Still,” Quiz interrupted thoughtfully, “the -principle remains the same in both. It’s simply a -question of creating a high-speed airstream, so -directed as to pass over and under an aerodynamically -shaped surface which, because of the varying -degree of arc and the cambered sections and -angle of attack, produces a lift, drag and momentum -proportional to the density of the air, the -square of the speed and the area of the wing or -airfoil. It’s simple! What’s more, a sailboat works -the same way.” Looking pleased with himself, -Quiz happily returned his attention to the pineapple -soda.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> -<p>“Why, Quiz!” Sandy said. “I didn’t know you -could fly!”</p> -<p>“Fly!” Quiz looked up from his soda with a -grimace. “The very thought of flying makes me -sick. If I don’t hold on to the banister, I get dizzy -when I go up to bed at night!”</p> -<p>All three boys laughed, for this side of Quiz’s -personality was a standing joke with them. Quiz, -formally known as Clyde Benson Taylor, was -a virtual encyclopedia of obscure information. -While he could tell you vast amounts about nearly -every human activity, the very idea of taking part -in an activity usually upset him.</p> -<p>“So much for theory,” Jerry said. “Now, to get -back to the practical realities of sailing a boat—I’d -have to know a few things about the kind of -sailboat you have before I’d be willing to give an -answer. There are all kinds of boats, of all different -sizes. There are sloops, cats, cutters, yawls, -ketches, schooners and a hundred variations. Did -your Uncle Russ give you any idea of what he has -for you?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div> -<p>“I think he said it was a sloop,” Sandy said. -“And he did say that while it was large enough to -sleep on and take out on a cruise, it was a pretty -small boat. He said that anyone who knew how to -sail would know how to handle it.”</p> -<p>“That sounds right to me,” Jerry said. “I didn’t -think that he’d want to start you off with a complicated -rig or a big boat. If it’s the kind of thing -I think it is, I’m sure I can sail it, and teach you -too.”</p> -<p>“Will I have to learn all about yardarms and -fore-topgallant sails and things like that?” Sandy -asked, somewhat doubtfully.</p> -<p>“Not for quite a while,” Jerry laughed. “You’ve -been reading too many books about pirates and -whalers in the old days. You only find all those -complicated sail and rigging names on the big -square-rigged ships—the ones with three and -four masts. If your boat is a sloop, it only has one -mast, one mainsail, and a choice of maybe three -other sails, flown one at a time with the mainsail. -There’s nothing much to learn compared with the -old full-rigged ships with up to four masts.”</p> -<p>“Five,” Quiz said.</p> -<p>“I never heard of one with more than four,” -Jerry commented.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> -<p>As if he were reading from a book buried deep -in his pineapple soda, Quiz mumbled around the -straws, “The steel ship <i>Preussen</i> was the only five-mast -full-rigged ship ever built. It was 408 feet -long, had masts 223 feet high, yardarms over 100 -feet long and 47 sails totaling 50,000 square feet.”</p> -<p>Even though Sandy was used to this sort of thing -from Quiz, he was more impressed than usual. -“How would you like to come with us, Quiz?” he -asked.</p> -<p>“Who, me?” Quiz looked shocked. “I don’t -know the first thing about boats! No, thanks—I’ll -stay safe ashore!”</p> -<p>The next half hour was spent in excitedly discussing -the trip to come, the possibilities of sailing, -the things Sandy would have to learn, and the -equipment that he and Jerry would have to take -along. Finally Sandy remembered that his Uncle -Russ was expecting a phone call, and that Jerry -still had to get his parents’ permission to make the -trip. They agreed to go back to Sandy’s house and -let John Steele make the call to Jerry’s father so -that the adults could satisfy themselves about the -wisdom of letting the boys take a three-day cruise -for Sandy’s first trip.</p> -<p>Leaving Quiz in charge of the drugstore’s soda -fountain, they quickly hiked to the Steele home, -where Sandy’s father agreed to make the call.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div> -<p>Getting Jerry’s parents’ consent to the trip -proved not to be a difficult task. Mr. and Mrs. -James obviously had a good deal of confidence in -Jerry’s ability to handle a sailboat, and both sets -of parents felt that their level-headed sixteen-year-olds -could take such a trip on their own. In short -order, all of the details were worked out, and -Sandy was once more on the long-distance phone -to speak with his Uncle Russ in San Francisco.</p> -<p>“It’s okay!” he shouted, as soon as his uncle -answered the telephone. “Jerry James, my best -friend, used to be a Sea Scout and knows all about -boats. His parents say he’s a good sailor. We’re -ready to start any time you want!”</p> -<p>He listened for a minute to his uncle, then said, -“Swell! We’ll be ready. And thanks a million for -the boat!” Hanging up the phone, he turned to -his father, mother and Jerry with a wide grin.</p> -<p>“Uncle Russ sure doesn’t waste any time,” he -said. “He’s leaving now and expects to be down -here tonight. He says that we’d better get all -packed and ready, because he wants to take us up -to Cliffport tomorrow morning, and we’ll have to -leave here by six o’clock!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div> -<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWO</span> -<br />Make Ready to Sail!</h2> -<p>“There’s one good thing about riding in this -little sports car,” Sandy said, and laughed as he -eased his cramped six-foot length out of his Uncle -Russ’s low-slung red racer. “It’s going to make -the sailboat seem as roomy as a yacht in comparison!”</p> -<p>Sandy pushed his cowlick out of his eyes and -stretched as his uncle and his friend Jerry followed -him out of the little car.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div> -<p>“Don’t worry about the size of the boat,” Jerry -said. “I’ll guarantee that it’s going to seem pretty -big and complicated, no matter how small it actually -is, until you’ve learned how to sail it. In -fact, you’re going to find that a boat is a whole new -world, full of all kinds of new things to get used -to. And from what your uncle told us about this -one, it’ll be more than big enough to keep us both -busy for a couple of summers to come.”</p> -<p>“I feel as if we’re in a whole new world already,” -Sandy replied, “and we’re not even on -board yet!” He looked about him at the beehive -of activity that was the Cliffport Boat Yard. “I’ve -never seen anything like this before!”</p> -<p>From all sides came the sounds of hammering -and sawing, and the thin whine of electric sanders. -The brisk, salty smell of the sea was mingled with -the sharp odors of paint, varnish and turpentine -and the peculiar, half-sweet smell of marine engine -fuel.</p> -<p>Boats of every size and description were ranged -about them. Towering high above them, resting -in specially built cradles, were long hulls with -deep, weighted keels like giant fins under them. -Heavy frames and timbers held these boats upright, -and ladders leaned against them to where -their decks joined their sides, high overhead. Men -scrambled up and down the ladders with tools and -equipment, or sat on the scaffolds and frames, -painting.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> -<p>Smaller craft without keels were braced in -cradles or frames on the ground, or lay bottoms -up on racks made of heavy beams that looked -like railroad ties. Some of the boats were having -their bottoms scraped, some were being sanded, -others were in the process of painting.</p> -<p>At one nearby boat, Sandy saw men hammering -on the bottom of the hull with big wooden -mallets. Jerry explained that these were calking -hammers, and that they were used to drive oakum -into the seams between the planks to make the -boats watertight for sailing. When the boats were -put in the water later on, he added, the planks -would swell and form waterproof joints where the -planks met.</p> -<p>On both sides, lines of railroad tracks led from -the boat yard and the big sheds straight down to -the water’s edge and on into the water. Boats on -wheeled flatcars stood on the rails here and there, -ready to be eased down the tracks into the water -for launching. Jerry explained how, when the flatcars -with their cradles had gone down the slope -and were under water, the boats simply floated -away from them. Then the launching device -would be hauled back up the tracks for use on -another boat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div> -<p>Sandy looked about him in bewilderment at -the variety of boats in the yard. There were small -boats with one mast, larger ones with two, cabin -cruisers with no masts at all, and one sleek, beautiful, -black-hulled boat with three tall masts. He -was just beginning to think that he had found -some relationship between the size of the boat and -the number of masts when he spotted what appeared -to be one of the largest hulls in the boat -yard, with one immense mast. Next to it was a far -smaller boat with two. Sandy thought to himself -that there didn’t appear to be any simple rules to -the business of boat designing. All in all the bustling -Cliffport Boat Yard was a thoroughly confusing -sight for Sandy, and a pretty exciting one, -too.</p> -<p>As a matter of fact, the entire last two days had -been pretty confusing and exciting, Sandy reflected. -Just two days ago, he had started on his -spring vacation from Valley View High School -with not a thing to do but loaf around home. Now, -suddenly, he was the owner of a sailboat he had -never seen, and he was preparing to take a two-hundred-mile -cruise down the coast! A two-hundred-mile -cruise—and he had never even been on -board a sailboat!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div> -<p>Looking at the maze of masts and rigging -around him, Sandy sensed for the first time some -of the complications of handling a boat. Laying a -hand on his friend’s shoulder, he said, “Boy, Jerry, -I sure hope you can sail this boat alone! If what -I see around me is a sample, I’m afraid I’m going -to be too confused to do more than just watch you -and maybe ask a few simple-minded questions!”</p> -<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Jerry said with a grin. -“It’s not anywhere near as complicated as it looks -at first sight. I learned to handle a boat fairly well -in just a few summers at the shore, plus some instruction -in the Sea Scouts, and I didn’t even have -my own boat so that I could sail regularly. One -season of working your own boat will probably -turn you into a first-rate skipper!”</p> -<p>Then Jerry frowned for a minute and ran his -hand over his hair. “Speaking of being a skipper,” -he began awkwardly, “you realize, I guess, that I’ll -have to act as skipper of this boat at first? I mean, -I know it’s your boat and all, but....”</p> -<p>Sandy laughed. “You go right ahead and take -charge! I’ll be more than happy to take orders -from you. After all, somebody on board has to be -in charge, and it’s a good idea to have it be someone -who knows what he’s in charge of!”</p> -<p>“Fine,” Jerry said, looking relieved. “If you -just keep up that kind of attitude, you’ll be the -best kind of a crew member that any skipper could -ask for!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> -<p>Sandy’s Uncle Russ had been waiting by his car -while the boys had been talking and taking in the -sights, sounds and smells of the Cliffport Boat -Yard. Now he moved over to join them. “The -trunk of the car is open,” he said, “and your sea -bags are in there. And that’s as much as I intend -to do about it. I don’t know much about sailors, -but if they’re anything at all like soldiers, they -carry their own packs! Now let’s get going!”</p> -<p>The boys grinned sheepishly and ran to the -back of the car to gather their equipment, and -Russell Steele relaxed and dropped his mock military -manner. An ex-general of the United States -Army, he often kidded Sandy and his friends by -pretending that they were soldiers in his command. -This time, he reflected, it was very nearly -true. In the same way that a general must feel a -responsibility toward the men he sends out on a -mission, Russell Steele felt responsible for Sandy -and Jerry as they were preparing to set out on this -trip.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div> -<p>After all, he reminded himself, the trip had -been his idea, and the sailboat had been his present -to Sandy. He had been using the boat during -the last few months while doing some research on -special underwater equipment for the government, -and now he no longer had any need for it. As Vice -President of World Dynamics Corporation, Russell -Steele was in charge of the New Projects Division. -World Dynamics was a sprawling concern -with almost unlimited interests, often in the most -secret kinds of affairs, and his work with it often -called him to different parts of the world. He had -found his stay in Cliffport a pleasant change from -some of the remote and often primitive places he -had been forced to settle in in the past. Now, however, -he was off again, to one more secret destination. -He wouldn’t be in a position to use a sailboat -again for a long time to come.</p> -<p>Sandy’s Uncle Russ had been brought up on the -seacoast of California. While his brother, Sandy’s -father, had become fascinated with the rocks and -geological formations of the nearby mountains and -deserts, he had gone in the other direction to the -shores of the Pacific. During nearly all of his boyhood -he had puttered around boats and boat -yards.</p> -<p>Although Russell Steele had spent most of his -adult life in the Army (and maybe because of it) -he had always had a soft spot in his heart for the -sport of sailing. He had regretted that Sandy, his -only nephew, lived inland in Valley View where -he was unable to share in this enthusiasm. But -Valley View was only a couple of hours from the -seacoast and now that Sandy was old enough to -drive a car, it would be possible for him to own -and enjoy a sailboat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div> -<p>Uncle Russ thought of all this, and then he -wondered whether it had been a good idea to -suggest that the boys bring the sloop all the way -down from Cliffport on their very first sail. Still, -he mused, Jerry seemed like a responsible lad, and -he had said that he knew how to handle a boat well -enough to make such a trip. And Sandy learned -fast and was good with his hands. Well, the General -thought to himself, we’ll just have to give -them their heads and let them try it to see how -they make out....</p> -<p>At that moment in his reflections, the boys -joined him with their luggage, and all three started -through the boat yard to the waterfront. As they -picked their way through the clutter of boats, -scrap lumber, railroad tracks and equipment, they -passed close by the side of a boat standing on the -ways about to be launched. Sandy ran his hand -over the gleaming paintwork of the hull, and -found that it was as smooth as glass. Jerry explained -that great care was given to getting a -smooth paint job, because the greatest force working -against a boat to slow it down is the friction -created by the water passing over the hull. Good -racing boats, he told Sandy, are hauled out of the -water to be cleaned and painted several times in a season.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> -<p>Their walk had by now led them down to the -water’s edge, where they walked along a weathered -wharf. A light, early-morning haze made the colors -of the sailboats that floated in the bay seem soft -and pale. The water and the sky appeared to be -one single surface, with no break or horizon line -to indicate where one stopped and the other -began. The boat-yard flag on its mast atop the -main shed fluttered lazily in a mild breeze, and -a gentle ground swell made soft, lapping sounds -under the wharf.</p> -<p>Strolling along, they came to a long, steeply -sloping gangway that descended to a floating dock, -to which were tied several small sailboats that -rocked quietly on the smooth swell of Cliffport -Bay.</p> -<p>Russell Steele took his pipe out of his mouth -and pointed with it. “See there?” he said. “The -third sloop—the one with the white hull and the -green decks and the varnished mast—that’s your -new sailboat, Sandy, and I hope you enjoy it as -much as I have.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> -<p>Before he had finished his sentence, Sandy and -Jerry were down the steep gangway, racing along -the floating dock to where the trim, white sloop -was tied. Russ Steele smiled, replaced his pipe in -his mouth, and followed at a pace almost as fast as -the boys’.</p> -<p>“It’s a beauty!” Sandy panted, pushing his hair -back from his eyes. “What slick lines! And look -at how roomy the cabin is! And look at the height -of the mast! And all that rigging!”</p> -<p>His grin faded, and a look of bewilderment -spread across his face. “Boy, I can sure say that -again! Just look at all that rigging! How am I -supposed to know what to do with what and when -to do it, Jerry?”</p> -<p>Jerry laughed, and jumped lightly into the -small cockpit. “Come on board, skipper, and we’ll -start your first sailing lesson by showing you -around and telling you the names of things. It’s -not half as complicated as it looks. In fact, this -sloop rig is just about the simplest there is. As soon -as you learn what to call things, you’ll have the -hardest part of the lesson over with.”</p> -<p>Sandy followed Jerry into the cockpit, then -paused to turn and face his uncle, who was still -standing on the dock. “How about you, Uncle -Russ?” he asked. “Will you stick around for a -little while and take the first sail with us?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> -<p>“Thanks for asking, Sandy,” Russell Steele -answered, “but much as I’d like to come along -with you, I can’t manage it. I have to be back in -my office this afternoon for an important conference. -In fact, I’ll just about make it if I get -started now. But before I get under way, and -before you get carried away with the fine art of -sailing, there are a few things that you’ll need to -know.”</p> -<p>He talked rapidly and uninterruptedly for -about five minutes and, when he had finished, -Sandy appreciated for the first time how thoroughly -well-organized his Uncle Russ was. His -preparations for the boys’ trip had been complete -in every last detail. Russell Steele’s practiced military -mind had reviewed the situation and had -missed nothing that might be needed.</p> -<p>The sailboat had been fully provisioned for -more than a week of sailing, and had been -equipped for every possible emergency as well as -for a routine and pleasant cruise. The small cabin -contained an alcohol cookstove and a good supply -of canned food. Every locker and storage place was -full, and everything put on board had been chosen -with care and an eye for both comfort and necessity.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> -<p>A complete tool chest was stowed in its cubby -with several boxes of spare hardware, ship fittings, -nuts and bolts, wire and odd tackle. A drawer -under one of the bunks contained a whole assortment -of fishing equipment. Another carried an -odd mixture of things that the boys might want, -even including clothespins for drying garments, -and a sewing kit. A specially made bag contained -another sewing kit, this one for sails and canvas -repair.</p> -<p>In a narrow, hanging locker in the forward part -of the cabin were two complete foul-weather suits -consisting of waterproof pants and jackets with -hoods. Below them were two pairs of sea boots.</p> -<p>Opposite this was the small enclosed “head,” -sailor’s word for bathroom. No bigger than a -telephone booth, it still managed to contain a -toilet and a sink, plus a cabinet for medicines and -first-aid supplies and another for towels, soap, -toothbrushes and the like.</p> -<p>“The only things that you won’t find on board -yet,” Russell Steele concluded, “are your sleeping -bags and your air mattresses. I’ve ordered -special ones that the local store didn’t have in -stock, and they’re not due to arrive until tomorrow. -For tonight, you’ll have to plan on sleeping -ashore, but I’ve taken care of that for you, -too. I’ve got a room reserved for you at the Cliffport -Hotel. After tomorrow, you can sleep on -board, like sailors.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> -<p>He scowled at his pipe for several seconds, as if -he hoped to see in it some hint of anything that -he might have forgotten to take care of, and he -mentally checked each item again. Sails okay? -Charts and navigating instruments in place? Food? -Tools? Spare lines? Life jackets? Oars for the -dinghy? Cleaning equipment? Sea anchor? Everything -checked out. At last, satisfied that all was in -good order, he smiled and clamped the pipe in -his teeth again.</p> -<p>“I think,” he said, “the only thing I’ve forgotten -is the seagoing way to say goodbye!”</p> -<p>He settled for “Ahoy!” and “Smooth sailing!” -and, brushing off Sandy’s thanks, walked briskly -up the gangway without turning back.</p> -<p>The boys watched him as he turned the corner -of the main shed and walked out of sight, then -they gave all their attention to a close survey of -their new floating home.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div> -<h2 id="c3"><span class="small">CHAPTER THREE</span> -<br />Shakedown Cruise</h2> -<p>“Well, Jerry, what do you think of it?” Sandy -asked his friend, as he cast a proud eye along -the sleekly shaped length of the little sloop.</p> -<p>“Not ‘it,’” Jerry said. “You should say ‘her.’ -You always call boats ‘she’ or ‘her,’ though I’ve -never met a sailor who could tell you why.”</p> -<p>Jerry looked critically down the twenty-four-foot -length of the sloop. “She looks really seaworthy,” -he said, “and she looks pretty fast, too. -Of course, this is not a racing boat, you know. -They use this kind mostly for day sailing and for -short cruises. Even so, she looks as if she’ll go. Of -course, we can’t really tell until we’ve tried her, -and I don’t think we’ll be ready to try anything -fast for a little while yet.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div> -<p>Noticing the flicker of disappointment that -crossed Sandy’s face, Jerry added, “I’d rather have -a boat like this than any racing machine ever -built. And I’m not saying that just to make you -feel better about not having a racer. There’s not -much difference in actual speed between a really -fast boat and an ordinary good boat of the same -size. But there sure is a lot of difference in comfort. -And I like my comfort when I go for a cruise.”</p> -<p>“Why should a racing boat be uncomfortable?” -Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“It’s not uncomfortable for racing, or for day -sailing,” Jerry answered, “but a racing boat of this -size wouldn’t be fitted out for cruising at all. You -see, to get the most speed out of a boat, designers -make sure that the hull is kept as light as possible -and as streamlined as possible, too. A light hull -will ride with less of its surface in the water, and -that cuts down on the amount of friction. You -remember what I told you about friction before?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div> -<p>Sandy nodded, and Jerry went on. “Streamlining -the hull shape helps it to cut through the -water without making a lot of waves at the bow -to hold it back. Not only that, but to make the -boat really as fast as possible, most designers want -to streamline the decks, too. That way, even the -air resistance is lowered. Well, when you streamline -the hull, you make less cabin space below. -Then when you streamline the decks, you have to -lower the cabin roof so that it’s level with the -decks. You can see that in a small boat like this, -you wind up with no cabin at all.”</p> -<p>“I see,” Sandy said. “But how does the lightness -of the hull affect comfort? I’m not so sure I understand -that.”</p> -<p>“When you have a light hull,” Jerry replied, -“it’s a good idea to keep it light. If you overload it, -you lose the advantage you built into it in the first -place. That means that you can’t carry all the stuff -we have on board to make for comfortable, safe -cruising. Our bunks, the galley, the head, the -spare anchor, all the tools and supplies—it adds -up to a lot of weight. If you want a really fast boat, -you have to leave all that stuff behind.”</p> -<p>“Then if this were a racing boat,” Sandy said, -“we wouldn’t have anything more than a small -cockpit and a lot of deck, with a little storage -space! No wonder you said you’d rather have a -boat like this! But there’s one thing I’d still like -to know. You said that there wasn’t much difference -in real speed between a racing boat and -an ordinary good boat. How much is ‘not much’?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div> -<p>Jerry thought for a minute. “Well—” he said, -at length—“I’d have to know a lot more about -boat design than I know to give you an accurate -answer, but I can give you a rough idea. This is -a twenty-four-foot boat. If it were a racing hull, -you might get eight and a half or maybe even -nine knots out of it under ideal conditions. For -practical purposes, you can figure eight or less. A -knot, by the way, is a nautical mile, and it’s a little -more than a regular mile. When you say eight -knots, you mean eight nautical miles an hour.”</p> -<p>“But that’s not fast!” Sandy objected. “You said -that’s what a fast racing boat would do!”</p> -<p>Jerry smiled. “Believe me, Sandy,” he said, -“when your boat is heeling way over and your -decks are awash and your sails are straining full -of wind, it seems like an awful lot of speed! You’ll -see when we get out today. Besides, speed is all -relative. A really dangerous speed on a bike would -seem like a slow crawl in a car.”</p> -<p>“I guess you’re right,” Sandy answered. “But -you didn’t tell me how fast this boat will go, compared -to a racer.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> -<p>“I think we’ll get five or six knots out of her,” -Jerry replied thoughtfully. “That’s not fast, but -it’s only a couple of knots slower than the fastest. -You see now what I mean?”</p> -<p>Sandy nodded, then said, “I’m with you, Jerry. -Now that I know a little bit about it, I sure think -you’re right. I’d much rather have a boat we can -sleep on and take on trips up and down the coast -than a racer that doesn’t even go so fast! Besides, -I’d be pretty foolish to think about any other -kind of boat at all, wouldn’t I? I don’t even have -the least idea of how to sail this one yet! Come on, -Jerry, start showing me!”</p> -<p>As Jerry carefully explained the different parts -of the rigging, the complicated-looking series of -wires and ropes around the mast began to look a -whole lot simpler to Sandy. The first thing he -learned was that not much of the rigging moved -or was used for actual sailing of the boat. The -parts that didn’t move were called “standing -rigging,” and if you eliminated them from your -thoughts, it made the “running rigging” comparatively -easy to understand.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div> -<p>“You have to learn about the rigging first,” -Jerry said. “The idea is simple enough. The -standing rigging is used to support the mast and -keep it from bending to either side or to the front -or back when the sails start to put pressure on it. -The standing rigging is every line or cable you see -that comes from the top of the mast or near it -down to the outer edge of the deck or to the bow -or stern.”</p> -<p>Sandy looked about the little sloop, and noticed -that this seemed to take care of more than half of -what he saw.</p> -<p>“The running rigging,” Jerry went on, “is used -to raise and lower the sails and to control their -position to catch the wind when you’re sailing. -The lines that are used to raise and lower the -sails on the mast are called halyards. They work -just like the ropes on a flagpole. The other kind -of running rigging—the lines used to control the -way the sails set—are called sheets. You’d think -that a sheet was a sail, wouldn’t you? It isn’t, -though. It’s the line that controls a sail.”</p> -<p>“I think I understand so far,” Sandy said, “but -don’t you think it would be easier for me to learn -if we went out for a sail and I could see everything -working?”</p> -<p>“Right,” Jerry said. “That’s just what I was -going to say next. Telling you this way makes me -feel too much like a schoolteacher!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> -<p>Jerry decided that it would not be a good idea -to try to sail away from the dock, because the -part of the harbor they were in was so crowded. -There would be little room to maneuver with -only the light morning winds to help them. The -best thing to do, he concluded, was to move the -boat to a less crowded part of the harbor. At the -same time, he would teach Sandy the way to get -away from a mooring. In order to do all this, -Jerry explained, they would row out in the dinghy, -towing the sloop behind them. Once out in open -water, they would tie the dinghy behind them and -pull it along as they sailed.</p> -<p>Together they unlashed the dinghy, which was -resting on chocks on the cabin roof. Light and -easy to handle, the dinghy was no trouble at all to -launch, and in a minute it was floating alongside, -looking like a cross between a canoe and a light-weight -bathtub.</p> -<p>Getting into the dinghy carefully, so as not to -upset its delicate balance, they untied the sloop -from the dock. Then they fastened the bow line of -the sloop to a ring on the stern of the dinghy, got -out the stubby oars and started to row.</p> -<p>At first, it took some strong pulling at the oars -to start the sailboat moving away from the dock, -and Sandy feared that they would tip over the frail -cockleshell of the dinghy. But once the sloop -started to move, Sandy found that it took surprisingly -little effort to tow it along. It glided easily -behind them, its tall mast swaying overhead, as -they rowed slowly out into the waters of Cliffport Bay.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div> -<p>“We’ll find an empty mooring, and tie up for -a few minutes,” Jerry said. “I don’t think that -anyone will mind. I want to show you the method -we’ll use most of the time for getting under way.” -He pointed to the anchorage area, or “holding -ground,” as it was called, and Sandy noticed -several blocks of painted wood floating about. -They had numbers, and some had small flags on -them. “Those are moorings,” Jerry explained. -“They’re just permanent anchors, with floats to -mark the spot and to hold up the end of the mooring -line. Every boat owner has his own mooring to -come in to. The people who own these empty -moorings are probably out sailing for the day, and -we won’t interfere if we use one for a while.”</p> -<p>Easing back on the oars, they let the sloop lose -momentum and came to a natural stop near one -of the moorings. They transferred the bow line -from the dinghy to the mooring and made the -sloop fast in its temporary berth. Then they -climbed back on board and tied the dinghy behind -them. Jerry explained that a long enough scope -of line should be left for the dinghy so as to keep it -from riding up and overtaking the sloop, as accidents -of this sort have been known to damage -the bow of a fragile dinghy.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> -<p>This done, Jerry busied himself by unlashing -the boom and the rudder to get them ready to use, -while Sandy went below for the sail bags. These -were neatly stacked in a forward locker, each one -marked with the name of the type of sail it -contained. He selected the ones marked “main” -and “jib,” as Jerry had asked him to, and brought -them out into the cockpit.</p> -<p>Making the mainsail ready to hoist, Sandy -quickly got the knack of threading the sail slides -onto the tracks on the mast and the boom. He -worked at this while Jerry made the necessary adjustments -to the halyards and fastened them to the -heads of the sails. When this job was done, Sandy -slid the foot of the sail aft along the boom, and -Jerry made it fast with a block-and-tackle arrangement -which was called the “clew outhaul.”</p> -<p>“Now,” Jerry said, when they had finished, “it’s -time to hoist the mainsail!”</p> -<p>“What about the mooring?” Sandy asked. -“Don’t you want me to untie the boat from it -first?”</p> -<p>“Not yet,” Jerry answered. “We won’t do that -until we’re ready to go.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> -<p>“But won’t we start going as soon as we pull up -the mainsail?” said Sandy, puzzled.</p> -<p>“No,” Jerry said. “Nothing will happen when -we hoist the sail. It’s like raising a flag. The flag -doesn’t fill with wind and pull at the flagpole -like a sail, does it? It just points into the wind and -flutters. That’s just what the mainsail will do. -You see, the boat is already pointing into the -wind, because the wind has swung us around on -the mooring. You look around and you’ll see that -all the boats out here are heading in the exact -same direction, toward the wind. When we hoist -the sail, it’ll act just like a flag, and flap around -until we’re ready to use it. Then we’ll make it do -what we want it to by using the jib and controlling -its position with the sheets. Look.”</p> -<p>Jerry hauled on the main halyard, and the sail -slid up its tracks on the mast, squeaking and -grating. As it reached the masthead, it fluttered -and bellied loosely in the wind, doing nothing to -make the boat move in any direction. Motioning -to Sandy to take his place tugging at the halyard, -Jerry jumped down into the cockpit.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div> -<p>The halyard ran from the pointed head of the -sail up through a pulley at the top of the mast, -then down to where Sandy was hauling on it. -Below his hands, it passed through another pulley -near Sandy’s feet, then back along the cabin roof. -Jerry, from his position in the cockpit, grabbed -the end of the halyard and hauled tight, taking the -strain from Sandy. Then he tied it down to a wing-shaped -cleat on the cabin roof near the cockpit.</p> -<p>This was done with a few expert flips of the -wrist. The mainsail was up, and tightly secured.</p> -<p>“There,” Jerry said. “Now we’re almost ready. -We won’t move at all until we get the jib up, and -even then we won’t move unless we want to. -When we want to, we’ll untie from the mooring -and get away as neat as you please.”</p> -<p>They then took the jib out of its sail bag and -made ready to hoist it. Instead of securing to the -mast with slides on a track the way the mainsail -had, the jib had a series of snaps stitched to its forward -edge. These were snapped around the steel -wire forestay, a part of the standing rigging that -ran from the bow of the boat to a position high -up on the mast. The jib halyard was fastened to -the head of the jib, the snaps were put in place, -and a few seconds of work saw the jib hanging in -place, flapping before the mast. Then Jerry asked -Sandy to pick up the mooring that they had tied -to, and to walk aft with it.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> -<p>“When you walk aft with the mooring,” Jerry -explained, “you actually put some forward motion -on the boat. Then, when you get aft and I tell you -to throw the mooring over, you put the bow a -little off the wind by doing it.”</p> -<p>Sandy untied the bow line from the mooring, -and walked to the stern of the boat, holding the -mooring float as he had been told. Then, when -Jerry said “Now!” he threw the mooring over -with a splash.</p> -<p>“With the jib flying and the boat free from the -mooring and no longer pointing directly into the -wind,” Jerry said, “the wind will catch the jib -and blow our bow even further off. At the same -time, I’ll steer to the side instead of straight ahead. -As soon as our bow is pointing enough away from -the wind, the breeze will strike our sails from one -side, and they’ll start to fill. When the sails have -caught the wind right, I’ll ease off on the rudder, -and we’ll be moving ahead.”</p> -<p>By this time, the morning haze had “burned -off” and the light breeze had freshened into a -crisp, steady wind. As the head of the little sloop -“fell away” from the direction from which the -wind was coming, the sails swelled, the boat -leaned slightly to one side, and a ripple of waves -splashed alongside the hull. Sandy looked back -and saw that the bow of the dinghy, trailing behind -them, was beginning to cut a small white -wave through the water.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div> -<p>“We’re under way!” Jerry cried. “Come on over -here, skipper! You take the tiller and learn how -to steer your boat while I handle the sails and -show you what to do!”</p> -<p>Sandy slid over on the stern seat to take Jerry’s -place, and held the tiller in the position he had -been shown, while Jerry explained how to trim -the sails and how to go where you wanted to go -instead of where the wind wanted to take you.</p> -<p>“I’ll take care of the sail trimming,” Jerry said. -“All you have to do is keep the boat heading on -the course she’s sailing now. The wind is pretty -much at our backs and off to the starboard side. -You have to keep it that way, and especially keep -the stern from swinging around to face the wind -directly. It’s not hard to do. Just pick a landmark -and steer toward it.”</p> -<p>He looked ahead to where a point of land jutted -out some miles off the mainland. A lighthouse -tower made an exclamation mark against the sky.</p> -<p>“Just steer a little to the right of that,” he said, -“and we can’t go wrong.”</p> -<p>“What if the wind shifts?” Sandy asked. “How -can we tell?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> -<p>Jerry pointed to the masthead, where a small -triangular metal flag swung. “Just keep an eye on -that,” he said. “It’s called a hawk, and it’s a sailor’s -weathervane.”</p> -<p>“With one eye on the lighthouse and one eye on -the masthead,” Sandy laughed, “I’m going to look -awfully silly!”</p> -<p>He leaned back in the stern seat with the tiller -tucked under his arm. The little sloop headed -steadily for the lighthouse, steering easily. Every -few seconds, Sandy glanced at the hawk to check -the wind. He grinned and relaxed. He was steering -his own boat! The sail towered tall and white -against the blue sky above him and the water -gurgled alongside and in the wake behind where -the dinghy bobbed along like a faithful puppy.</p> -<p>“This is the life!” he sighed.</p> -<p>Jerry pointed out a handsome, white-hulled, -two-masted boat approaching them. “Isn’t that a -beauty?” he said. “It’s a ketch. On a ketch, the -mainmast is taller than the mizzen. That’s how -you tell the difference.”</p> -<p>“How do you tell the difference between the -mainmast and the mizzen?” Sandy asked. “You’re -going to have to start with the simplest stuff with -me.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> -<p>“The mainmast is always the one in front, and -the mizzen is always the one aft,” Jerry explained. -“A ketch has a taller main; a schooner has a taller -mizzen; a yawl is the same as a ketch, except that -the mizzen is set aft of the tiller. Got it?”</p> -<p>Sandy shook his head and wondered if he would -ever get all of this straight in his head. It was -enough trying to learn the names of things on his -own boat without worrying about the names of -everything on other boats in the bay.</p> -<p>As the ketch sailed by, the man at her tiller -waved a friendly greeting. The boys waved back -and Sandy watched the big ketch go smoothly -past, wondering how much harder it might be to -sail a two-masted boat of that size than it was to -sail a relatively small sloop such as his own. -Certainly it could not be as simple as the sloop, -he thought. Why this little sailboat was a whole -lot easier than it had seemed to be at first. As a -matter of fact....</p> -<p>“Duck your head!” Jerry yelled.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div> -<p>Not even stopping to think, Sandy dropped his -head just in time to avoid being hit by the boom, -which whizzed past barely a few inches above him! -With a sharp crack of ropes and canvas, the sail -filled with wind on the opposite side of the boat -from where it had been a moment before, and -the sloop heeled violently in the same direction. -Jerry grabbed at the tiller, hauled in rapidly on -the mainsheet, and set a new course. Then, calming -down, he explained to Sandy what had -happened.</p> -<p>“We jibed,” he said. “That means that you let -the wind get directly behind us and then on the -wrong side of us. The mainsail got the wind on -the back of it, and the wind took it around to the -other side of the boat. Because the sheets were let -out all the way, there was nothing to restrain the -sail from moving, and by the time it got over, -it was going at a pretty fast clip. You saw the results!”</p> -<p>Jerry adjusted the mainsail to a better position -relative to the wind, trimming it carefully to keep -it from bagging, then he went on to explain. “A -jibe can only happen when you’ve got the wind at -your back. That’s called sailing downwind, or -sailing before the wind, or running free. It’s the -most dangerous point of sail, because of the chance -of jibing. When the wind is strong, an uncontrolled -jibe like the one we just took can split -your sails, or ruin your rigging, or even snap -your boom or your mast. Not to mention giving -you a real bad headache if you’re in the way of -that boom!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div> -<p>“I can just imagine,” Sandy said, thinking of -the force with which the boom had whizzed by. -Then he added, “You said something about an -‘uncontrolled jibe,’ I think. Does that mean that -there’s some way to control it?”</p> -<p>“I should have said an accidental jibe instead of -an uncontrolled one,” Jerry said. “A deliberate -or planned jibe is always controlled, and it’s a -perfectly safe and easy maneuver. All you have to -do is to haul in on the sheet, so that the boom -won’t have any room for free swinging. Then you -change your course to the new tack, let out the -sail, and you’re off with no trouble.”</p> -<p>Sandy grinned. “I’m afraid that description -went over my head as fast as the boom did—only -a whole lot higher up!”</p> -<p>“Things always sound complicated when you -describe them,” Jerry said, “but we’ll do a couple -later, and you’ll see how it works.”</p> -<p>“Fine,” Sandy agreed. “But until we do, how -can I keep from doing any more of the accidental -variety?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> -<p>“The only way to avoid jibing,” Jerry replied, -“is never to let the wind blow from the same side -that the sail is set on. This means that if you feel -the wind shift over that way, you have to alter -your course quickly to compensate for it. If you -don’t want to alter your course, then you have to -do a deliberate jibe and alter the direction of the -sail. All it means is that you have to keep alert at -the tiller, and keep an eye on the hawk, the way -I told you, so that you always know which direction -the wind is blowing from.”</p> -<p>“I guess I was getting too much confidence a lot -too soon,” Sandy admitted, shamefaced. “There’s -obviously a lot more to this sailing business than -I was beginning to think. Anyway, a jibe is one -thing I won’t let happen again. I’ll stop looking at -other boats for a while, and pay more attention to -this one! There’s more than enough to look at -here, I guess.”</p> -<p>Once more, Sandy cautiously took the tiller -from Jerry. Then he grinned ruefully and said, -“Just do me one favor, will you, Jerry?”</p> -<p>“Sure. What?”</p> -<p>“Just don’t call me ‘skipper’ any more. Not for -a while, at least!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div> -<h2 id="c4"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOUR</span> -<br />The Man with the Gun</h2> -<p>“Just keep her sailing on this downwind course,” -Jerry said. “Head for that lighthouse the way you -were before, and keep an occasional eye on the -hawk. As long as the wind isn’t dead astern, we -shouldn’t have any more jibing troubles. As soon -as we get out into open water, we’ll find an easier -point of sail. We can’t do that until we’re clear of -the channel, though. When we are, we’ll reach for -a while, and then I’ll show you how to beat.”</p> -<p>“What’s reaching?” Sandy asked. “And what’s -beating? And how do you know when we’re out of -the channel into open water? And how do you -even know for sure that we’re in the channel -now? And how....”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div> -<p>“Whoa! Wait a minute! Let’s take one question -at a time. A reach is when you’re sailing with the -wind coming more from the side than from in front -or from behind the boat. Beating is when the wind -is more in front than on the side, and you have to -sail into it. Beating is more like work than fun, -but a reach is the fastest and easiest kind of a -course to sail. That’s why I want to reach as soon -as we’re out in open water where we can pick our -direction without having to worry about channel -markers.”</p> -<p>“How come reaching is the fastest kind of -course to sail?” Sandy asked. “I would have -guessed that sailing downwind with the wind -pushing the boat ahead of it would be the fastest.”</p> -<p>“It sure seems as if it ought to work that way,” -Jerry said with a grin. “But you’ll find that sailboat -logic isn’t always so simple or easy. When -you’re running free in front of the wind, you -can only go as fast as the wind is blowing. When -you’re reaching, you can actually sail a lot faster -than the wind.”</p> -<p>“I’m afraid that I don’t understand that,” Sandy -said. “How does it work?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> -<p>Jerry paused and thought for a minute. “You -remember what Quiz said about the sailboat -working like an airplane? Well, he made it sound -pretty tough to understand, what with all his -formulas and proportions, but actually he was -right. A sail is a lot like an airplane wing, except -that it’s standing up on end instead of sticking out -to one side. Well, you know that the propellers -on a plane make wind, and that the plane flies -straight into that wind. You see, the wind that -comes across the wing makes a vacuum on top of -the wing surface, and the plane is drawn up into -the vacuum. You get a lot more lift that way than -if the propellers were under the wing and blowing -straight up on the bottom of it.”</p> -<p>“I see that,” Sandy said. “And a propeller blowing -under a wing would be pretty much the same -as a wind blowing at the back of a sail. Right?”</p> -<p>“Right!” Jerry said, looking pleased with his -teaching ability. “Now you have the idea. When -you have a sail, like a wing standing up, the air -that passes over the sail makes a vacuum in front -and pulls the boat forward into it. Actually, the -vacuum pulls us forward and to one side, the same -as the wind from the propeller makes the plane go -forward and up. We use the rudder and the keel -to keep us going more straight than sideways.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div> -<p>Sandy shook his head as if to clear away cobwebs. -“I think that I understand now, but it’s -still a little hazy in my mind. Maybe I’ll do better -if you don’t tell me about the theory, and I just -see the way it works.”</p> -<p>“Could be,” Jerry said. “There are lots of old-time -fishermen and other fine sailors who have -absolutely no idea of how their boats work, and -who wouldn’t know a law of physics or a principle -of aerodynamics if it sat on their mastheads and -yelled at them like a sea gull! They just do what -comes naturally, and they know the way to handle -a boat without worrying about what makes it -run.”</p> -<p>Still heading on their downwind course, they -passed several small islands and rocks, some -marked with lights and towers, some with bells -or floating buoys. They seemed to slide by gracefully -as the little sloop left the mainland farther -behind in its wake.</p> -<p>“Before we get out of the channel,” Jerry said, -“I want to show you some of the channel markers -and tell you about how to read them. They’re the -road signs of the harbors, and if you know what -they mean and what to do about them, you’ll -never get in any trouble when it comes to finding -your way in and out of a port.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div> -<p>He pointed to a nearby marker that was shaped -like a pointed rocket nose cone floating in the -water. It was painted a bright red, and on its side -in white was painted a large number 4.</p> -<p>“That’s called a nun buoy,” Jerry told Sandy. -“Now look over there. Do you see that black buoy -shaped just like an oversized tin can? That’s called -a can buoy. The cans and the nuns mark the -limits of the channel, and they tell you to steer -between them. The rule is, when you’re leaving -a harbor, to keep the red nun buoys on your port -side. That’s the left side. When you’re entering -a harbor, keep the red nun buoys on your starboard -side. The best way to remember it is by the -three R’s of offshore navigating: ‘Red Right Returning.’”</p> -<p>Sandy nodded. “I understand that all right,” -he said. “But what are the numbers for?”</p> -<p>“The numbers are to tell you how far from the -harbor you are,” Jerry said. “Red nun buoys are -always even-numbered, and black cans are always -odd-numbered. They run in regular sequence, -and they start from the farthest buoy out from -the shore. For example, we just sailed past red nun -buoy number 4. That means that the next can we -see will be marked number 3, and it will be -followed by a number 2 nun and a number 1 can. -After we pass the number 1 can, we’ll be completely -out of the channel, and we’ll have open -water to sail in.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div> -<p>“Do they have the same kind of markers everywhere,” -Sandy asked, “or do you have to learn -them specially for each port that you sail in?”</p> -<p>“You’ll find the same marks in almost every -place in the world,” Jerry said. “But you won’t -have to worry about the world for a long while. -The important thing is that the marking and -buoyage system is the same exact standard for -every port in the United States and Canada.”</p> -<p>“What’s that striped can I see floating over -there?” Sandy asked, pointing.</p> -<p>Jerry looked at the buoy. “That’s a special -marker,” he answered. “All of the striped buoys -have some special meaning, and it’s usually -marked on the charts. They’re mostly used to -mark a junction of two channels, or a middle -ground, or an obstruction of some kind. You can -sail to either side of them, but you shouldn’t go -too close. At least that’s the rule for the horizontally -striped ones. The markers with vertical -stripes show the middle of the channel, and you’re -supposed to pass them as close as you can, on -either side.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div> -<p>Another few minutes of sailing brought them -past the last red buoy, and they were clear of the -marked channel. From here on they were free to -sail as they wanted, in any direction they chose to -try.</p> -<p>For the next hour they practiced reaching. -With the wind blowing steadily from the starboard -side, the trim sloop leaned far to the port -until the waves were creaming almost up to the -level of the deck. Jerry explained that this leaning -position, called “heeling,” was the natural and -proper way for a sailboat to sit in the water. The -only way that a boat could sail level, he pointed -out, was before the wind. With the boat heeling -sharply and the sails and the rigging pulled tight -in the brisk breeze, Sandy really began to feel the -sense of speed on the water, and understood what -Jerry had told him about speed being relative.</p> -<p>After they had practiced on a few long reaches, -Jerry showed Sandy how to beat or point, which -is the art of sailing more or less straight into the -wind.</p> -<p>“Of course you can’t ever sail straight into the -wind,” Jerry said. “The best you can do is come -close. If you head right into it, the sails will just -flap around the way that they did when we were -pointing into the wind at the mooring. You’ve got -to sail a little to one side.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> -<p>“Suppose you don’t want to go to one side?” -Sandy asked. “If the wind is blowing straight from -the place you want to get to, what do you do -about it?”</p> -<p>“You have to compromise,” Jerry replied. -“You’ll never get there by aiming the boat in that -direction. What you have to do is sail for a point -to one side of it for a while, then come about and -sail for a point on the other side of it for a while. -It’s a kind of long zigzag course. You call it tacking. -Each leg of the zigzag is called a tack.”</p> -<p>Sailing into the wind, they tacked first on one -side, then on the other. Each time they came -about onto a new tack, the mainsail was shifted to -the other side of the boat, and the boat heeled in -the same direction as the sail. The jib came -about by itself, just by loosening one sheet and -taking up on the other one. Soon Sandy was used -to the continual shifting and resetting of the sails, -and to the boom passing back and forth overhead.</p> -<p>Suddenly Sandy pointed and clapped Jerry on -the shoulder with excitement. “Look!” he cried. -“There’s a whole fleet of boats coming this way! -They look just like ours! And they’re racing!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> -<p>Jerry looked up in surprise. “They sure are -racing! And they are just like this one! I guess I -was wrong when I said they didn’t race this kind -of boat. This must be a local class, built to specifications -for local race rules. Boy, look at them go! -I was wrong about not racing them, but I sure was -right when I said that she looked fast!”</p> -<p>The fleet of sloops swept past, heeling sharply -to one side, with the crews perched on the high -sides as live ballast, and the water foaming white -along the low decks which were washed over completely -every moment or so. The helmsmen on the -nearest of the boats grinned at them and waved -an invitation to come along and join the regatta, -but neither Jerry nor Sandy felt quite up to sailing -a race just yet.</p> -<p>As they watched their white-sailed sisters fly -down the bay, Sandy felt for the first time the excitement -that could come from handling a boat -really well. He turned to his own trim craft with -renewed determination to learn everything that -Jerry could teach him, and maybe, in due time, -a whole lot more than that.</p> -<p>The next few hours were spent in happily exploring -Cliffport Bay and trying the sloop on a -variety of tacks and courses to learn what she -would do. Eventually, the sun standing high above -the mast, they realized almost at the same time -that it was definitely time for lunch.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> -<p>Jerry took the helm and the sheet while Sandy -went below to see what the boat’s food locker -could supply. In a few minutes, he poked his head -out of the cabin hatch and shook it sadly at Jerry. -“It looks as if Uncle Russ didn’t think of everything, -after all. There’s plenty of food all right, -but there’s not a thing on board to drink. The -water jugs are here, but they’re bone-dry, and I’m -not exactly up to eating peanut butter sandwiches -without something to wash them down!”</p> -<p>“Me either!” said Jerry, shuddering a little at -the thought. “Of course, we could settle on some -of the juice from the canned fruits I saw in there, -but we haven’t taken on any ice for our ice chest, -and that’s all going to be pretty warm. In any -case, we ought to have some water on board. I -think we’d better look for a likely place near -shore where we can drop anchor. Then we can -take the dinghy in to one of the beach houses and -fill up our jugs.”</p> -<p>“Good idea,” Sandy agreed. “And that way we -can eat while we’re at anchor, and not have to -worry about sailing and eating at the same time.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div> -<p>Several small islands not too far away had -houses on them, and the boys decided to set a -course for the nearest one. As they drew near, -they saw a sunny white house sitting on the crest -of a small rise about a hundred yards back from -the water. Below the house, a well-protected and -pleasant-looking cove offered a good place for an -anchorage. A floating dock was secured to a high -stone pier, from which a path could be seen leading -up to the house. It looked like an almost perfect -summer place, set in broad green lawns, with -several old shade trees near the house and with a -general atmosphere of well-being radiating from -everything.</p> -<p>They glided straight into the little cove, then -suddenly put the rudder over hard and brought -the sloop sharply up into the wind. The sails -flapped loosely, and the boat lost some of its headway, -then glided slowly to a stop.</p> -<p>On the bow, Sandy stood ready with the anchor, -waiting for Jerry to tell him when to lower it. As -the boat began to move a little astern, backing in -the headwind, Jerry told Sandy to let the anchor -down slowly.</p> -<p>“You never drop an anchor, or throw it over the -side. After all, you want the anchor to tip over, -and to drive a hook into the bottom. It won’t do -that if it’s just dropped.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_62">62</div> -<p>When Sandy felt the anchor touch the bottom, -he pulled back gently on the anchor line until he -felt the hook take hold. Then, leading the line -through the fair lead at the bow, he tied it securely -to a cleat on the deck.</p> -<p>Loosening the halyards, they dropped first the -jib and then the mainsail, rolled them neatly, and -secured them with strips of sailcloth, called stops. -Jerry pointed out that it was not necessary to -remove the slides and snaps. That way, he explained, -it would only be a matter of minutes to -get under way when they wanted to. With the last -stop tied and the boom and the rudder lashed to -keep them from swinging, the sloop was all shipshape -at anchor, rocking gently on the swell about -fifty yards from the end of the floating dock.</p> -<p>“Let’s row the dinghy in to the dock and see if -we can find somebody on shore,” Jerry suggested. -“Of course, with no boats in here, there might not -be anyone on the island right now, but I think -that I saw a well up by the house, and I’m sure -that no one would mind if we helped ourselves to -a little water.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div> -<p>But Jerry was wrong on both counts. There -was somebody on the island, and he looked far -from hospitable. In fact, the tall man who came -striding down the path to the float where the -boys already had the dinghy headed was carrying a -rifle—and, what was more, he looked perfectly -ready to use it at any minute!</p> -<p>“Turn back!” he shouted, as he reached the -edge of the stone pier. “Turn back, I tell you, -or I’ll shoot that dinghy full of holes and sink it -right out from under you!” He raised the rifle -deliberately to his shoulder and sighted down its -length at the boys.</p> -<p>“Wait a minute!” Sandy shouted back. “You’re -making a mistake! We just need to get some water -to drink! We don’t mean any harm!”</p> -<p>The man lowered his rifle, but looked no -friendlier than before. “I don’t care what you -want,” he called, “but you can just sail off and get -it some other place! This is my island and my -cove. They’re both private property, and you’re -trespassing here! Now turn that dinghy around -and get back to your sailboat and go!”</p> -<p>This speech finished, he raised his rifle to the -firing position once more and aimed it at the -dinghy.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> -<p>“All right, mister!” Jerry yelled back at him. -“We’ll get going! But when we get back to the -mainland, you can bet that we’re going to report -you to the Coast Guard for your failure to give -assistance! I’m not sure what they can do about it, -but they sure ought to know that there’s a character -like you around here! Maybe they’ll mark it -on the charts, so that sailors in trouble won’t waste -their time coming in here for help!”</p> -<p>As the boys started to turn the dinghy about, -they heard a shout from the man on the pier. -“Wait a minute!” he called. “There’s no need to -get so upset. I’m sorry—but I guess I made a mistake -after all. Row on in to the float and I’ll get -you some water.”</p> -<p>Not at all sure that they were doing the wisest -thing, but not wanting to anger the strange rifleman -by not doing what he had suggested, they -decided to risk coming to shore. After all, Sandy -reasoned, he hadn’t actually threatened to shoot -<i>them</i>—just the dinghy—and he couldn’t do much -more harm from close up than from where they -were. Besides, both boys were curious about the -man and his island. They rowed to the floating -dock and made the dinghy fast to a cleat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> -<p>“I’m sorry, boys,” the man with the rifle said -pleasantly. “It’s just that I’ve been bothered in -the past by kids landing here for picnics and -swimming parties when I’m not here. They leave -the beach a mess, and one gang actually broke -into the house once, and stole some things. That’s -why I don’t like kids coming around. I thought -you were more of the same, but I figured you were -all right when you said that you’d report to the -Coast Guard. Those other kids stay as far away -from the Coast Guard and the Harbor Police as -they can.”</p> -<p>He smiled apologetically, but as Sandy started -to climb up from the dinghy to the floating dock, -his expression hardened once more.</p> -<p>“I said that I’d get you some water,” he said, -“but I didn’t invite you to come ashore and help -yourselves to it. You just stay right where you are -in that dinghy, and hand me up your water jars. -I’ll fill them up for you, and I’ll be back in a few -minutes.”</p> -<p>More than a little puzzled, Jerry and Sandy -handed up their two soft plastic gallon jugs. Their -“host” took them under one arm, leaving the -other hand free for his rifle which he carried with -a finger lying alongside of the trigger. Without a -word, the island’s owner walked off.</p> -<p>“I wonder what’s the matter with him,” Jerry -said.</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy replied, “but whatever -it is, we’d better do what he says, or something -pretty bad might be the matter with us!”</p> -<p>Halfway up the path to the house, the tall -man stopped, turned back, and looked hard at -the boys before continuing on up the hill.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div> -<p>“Mind you do just what I said!” he shouted -back over his shoulder. “You just stay in that -dinghy, and don’t get any fancy ideas about exploring -around. If I find you ashore, I’m still as -ready as ever to use this gun!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> -<h2 id="c5"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIVE</span> -<br />Storm Fears</h2> -<p>Unpredictable as the wind, the man was all -smiles when he returned with the two jars filled -with water. But he still had his gun.</p> -<p>“I’m glad to see you stayed put in your dinghy,” -he said. “I kept an eye on you from the hill.” He -handed down the plastic jugs to Sandy and added, -“Sorry I acted so gruff, but you know how it is. -I live all alone out here, and even though the -island is only a little over a half mile from the -mainland it’s a pretty isolated spot. I have to be -careful of strangers. But I should have seen right -away that you boys are all right.”</p> -<p>“Thanks,” said Sandy. “And thanks for filling -our water jugs. We’re sorry we bothered you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> -<p>They cast the dinghy free, rowed quickly back -to the sloop and, as fast as they could manage it, -raised the anchor, hoisted the sails and skimmed -out of the cove. As they rounded the rocky point -that marked the entrance to the cove, they looked -back to where the island’s lone inhabitant was -standing on the dock, watching them out of sight, -his rifle still held ready at his hip.</p> -<p>“Boy, that’s a strange one!” Sandy said. “I -wonder what he’s hiding on that island of his—a -diamond mine?”</p> -<p>“You never can tell,” Jerry replied, “but it’s -probably nothing at all. I guess the kind of man -who would want to live all alone on an island -away from people is bound to be pretty crazy about -getting all the privacy he can. And as far as I’m -concerned, he can have it. From now on, if we -need anything, let’s head for the mainland!”</p> -<p>Dismissing the mysterious rifleman from their -minds, they set out once more to enjoy the pleasures -of a brisk wind, blue sky and a trim boat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> -<p>The afternoon went swiftly by as Sandy learned -more and more about handling his boat, and about -the boats they saw sailing near them. Jerry pointed -out the different types of boats, explaining more -fully than before that the ones with one mast were -called sloops, the two-masted boats were called -yawls, ketches and schooners. Telling one from the -other was a matter of knowing the arrangement -of masts. The ketches had tall mainmasts and -shorter mizzens behind them. The yawls had even -shorter mizzens, set as far aft as possible. Schooners, -with taller mizzen than main, were relatively rare.</p> -<p>Jerry also pointed to varied types of one-masted -boats. Not all of them, he told Sandy, were -sloops, though most were. The sloops had their -mast stepped about one third back from the bow. -Cutters had their mast stepped nearly in the center -of the boat. In addition, they saw a few catboats, -with their single masts stepped nearly in the bows.</p> -<p>Learning all this, plus trying to absorb all -that Jerry was telling him about harbor markers, -sail handling, steering, types of sails and conditions -under which each sail is used, Sandy found -the time flying by. Almost before he realized it, -the sun was beginning to set and the boats around -them were all heading back up the channel to -find their moorings and tie up for the night.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> -<p>Everywhere they looked, the roadstead of Cliffport -Bay was as busy as a highway. Sailboats of -every description, outboard motorboats, big cabin -cruisers, high-powered motor racers, rowboats, -canoes, sailing canoes, kayaks, power runabouts, -fishing excursion boats and dozens of other craft -were making their way to shore.</p> -<p>The afternoon, which had started so brightly, -had become overcast, and the sun glowed sullenly -behind a low bank of clouds. The breeze which -had been steady but light during the late afternoon -hours, suddenly picked up force and became -a fairly hard wind. It felt cold and damp after the -hot day. Joining the homebound pleasure fleet, -Sandy and Jerry picked their way through the now -crowded harbor, back to Cliffport Boat Yard.</p> -<p>They arrived in a murky twilight, just a few -minutes before the time when it would have become -necessary for them to light the lanterns for -the red and green running lights demanded by -the International Rules of the Road.</p> -<p>The boys decided to drop anchor in the boat -yard’s mooring area, rather than tow the boat back -to the float where it had been tied. This would -make it unnecessary to tow the sloop out again -for the next day’s sailing, when they would start -on the long trip home.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> -<p>They dropped the sails, removed their slides -and snaps on mast, boom and forestay, and carefully -folded them for replacement in the sail bags. -These were stowed below in their locker just -forward of the cabin. Then Sandy and Jerry -turned their attention to getting the boat ready -for the night.</p> -<p>Sandy helped Jerry rest the boom in its -“crutch,” a piece of wood shaped like the letter -<i>Y</i>, which was placed standing upright in a slot -in the stern seat. This kept the boom from swinging -loose when the boat was unattended, and thus -protected both the boat, the boom and the rigging -from damage. All the running gear was then -lashed down or coiled and put away, the sliding -cabin door and hatch cover were closed in place, -and the sloop was ready to be left.</p> -<p>“That’s what’s meant by ‘shipshape,’” Jerry -said with satisfaction.</p> -<p>As the boys rowed the dinghy back to the float, -they felt the first fat drops of rain and they -noticed how choppy the still waters of the bay -had become. Jerry cast a sailor’s eye at the ominously -darkening sky.</p> -<p>“That’s more than evening coming on,” he -said. “Unless I miss my guess, we’re in for a good -storm tonight. To tell you the truth, I’m glad -we’re staying ashore!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> -<p>They lifted the dinghy from the water, turned -it over on the float and placed the stubby oars -below it. Then, picking up their sea bags, they -ran for the shelter of the shed as the first torrential -downpour of the storm washed Cliffport in a solid -sheet of blinding rain.</p> -<p class="tb">Later that night, after a change of clothes, -dinner, and a movie at Cliffport’s only theater, -the boys sat on their beds in the hotel room and -listened to the howling fury of the storm. Raindrops -rattled on the windowpanes like hailstones, -and through the tossing branches of a tree they -could see the riding lights of a few boats in the -harbor, rocking violently to and fro. As they -watched, the wind sent a large barrel bowling -down the street to smash against a light pole, -bounce off and roll, erratic as a kicked football, -out of sight around a corner.</p> -<p>“It’s a good thing we anchored out,” Jerry said, -watching this evidence of the storm’s power. “The -boat could really have gotten banged up against -the float if we had tied it up where it was before!”</p> -<p>“Do you think it’ll be safe where it is now?” -Sandy asked anxiously.</p> -<p>“Oh, a little wind and water won’t bother a -good boat,” Jerry answered. “After all, it was -made for wind and water! Still....” He scowled -and shook his head doubtfully.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> -<p>“Still what?” Sandy said with alarm. “Is there -something wrong with the way we left it?”</p> -<p>“Not really,” Jerry said. “I’m just worried -about one thing. We’re not tied to a permanent -mooring, the way the other boats around here -are. That means that we might drag anchor in a -storm as bad as this one, and if we happen to drag -into deep water where the anchor can’t reach the -bottom, the boat could drift a long ways off until -it hooked onto something again. And there’s always -the chance that it could get washed up on the -rocks somewhere, first!”</p> -<p>With this unhappy thought in mind, the boys -stared out the window for some time in silence -as the storm continued unchecked. Finally, knowing -that worry couldn’t possibly help, and that a -good night’s sleep would prepare them to meet -whatever the morning would bring, they turned -out the lights and went to bed.</p> -<p>But, for Sandy, bed was one thing—sleep was -another. Although Jerry managed to drop off to -slumber in no time, Sandy lay a long time awake -staring at the shadows of the tossing tree on the -ceiling of the hotel room.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> -<p>His mind was full of the events of the crowded -day. It had been quite a day, starting with the -ride in his uncle’s sports car, and proceeding to -the new boat and learning to sail. Then the mysterious -man on the island, keeping guard with his -ever-present rifle, and concluding with a night -of powerful storm. He reviewed all this, and mixed -with his recollection his new worries about the -safety of his boat. A series of images crowded his -mind—a vision of the smart sloop lying smashed -against some rocky piece of shore was mingled -with a memory of the pleasures of his first day of -sailing; and somewhere, behind and around all of -his thoughts, was the unpleasantly frightening -memory of the man with the gun, waiting on his -hermit’s island.</p> -<p>All of this mingled in his mind with the sound -of the storm until Sandy slipped into an uncertain, -restless sleep—a sleep filled with vague, shadowy -dreams, connected only by a sense that somewhere, -something was wrong.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div> -<h2 id="c6"><span class="small">CHAPTER SIX</span> -<br />Something Lost—Something Found!</h2> -<p>The next morning, when Sandy and Jerry awoke, -the storm that had lashed Cliffport had vanished -as if it, too, had been a bad dream.</p> -<p>Cliffport’s Main Street, which fronted the bay, -was washed clean, and sparkled in the bright -morning light. The bay waters themselves even -looked cleaner than before, freshly laundered -blue and white, with silver points of sunlight -sprinkled over their peaceful surface. It was, in -short, a perfect sailing day, and the boys could -hardly wait to get down to the boat yard to see if -the sloop had ridden the storm at anchor.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> -<p>They dressed hurriedly in their sailing clothes—blue -jeans, sneakers and sweat shirts—and bolted -breakfast in the hotel coffee shop. Then, sea bags -slung over their shoulders, they raced down the -street to the Cliffport Boat Yard, rounded the -corner of the main shed and, at the head of the -gangway, came to a stop.</p> -<p>Sandy felt a sick, sinking feeling as he scanned -the mooring area, searching vainly for a sight of -his sloop. But where she had ridden at anchor the -night before, there was only a patch of calm blue -water.</p> -<p>It hardly seemed possible that she wasn’t there. -The storm, on this bright, sunny morning, seemed -never to have happened. Other boats rode peacefully -at their moorings, apparently untouched by -the night’s wild work. Life in the boat yard and -on the bay went on as if nothing had occurred. But -Sandy felt as if it were the end of the world.</p> -<p>Slowly and silently, the boys walked down the -gangway to where their dinghy lay like a turtle, -unharmed. They anxiously scanned the bay on -all sides, searching for a mast that might be theirs, -but to no avail. Then Jerry straightened up and -clapped Sandy on the shoulder.</p> -<p>“Come on,” he said. “There’s no use standing -here moping. The only thing to do now is to take -out the dinghy and start to hunt.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div> -<p>They launched the dinghy, put out the stubby -oars, and rowed away from the float.</p> -<p>“Where do we look first?” Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“We’ll just go the way the wind went,” Jerry -said. “Luckily, the storm came from the mainland -and blew out to sea. That means there’s a -good chance that the boat didn’t pile up on the -shore. Of course, there are a lot of islands out -there, and plenty of rocks, but there’s a lot more -open water. With any luck we’ll find her floating -safe and sound, somewhere out in the bay. I don’t -think she could have gone too far dragging that -anchor.”</p> -<p>They headed down the channel, taking occasional -side excursions around some of the small -islands whenever they saw, on the other side, a -mast that could be theirs. But none of the boats -they found was the right one. The hot sun made -rowing even the light cockleshell of the dinghy -unpleasant work. Sandy paused at the oars and -pushed back his cowlick, then wiped his perspiring -brow. He was beginning to fear that he would -never again see his trim new sloop—unless he was -to see it lying shattered on one of these rocky -islands. Then, with dogged determination, he -picked up his oars once more and bent his back -to the task of rowing.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> -<p>Once or twice they asked passing sailors if they -had seen an unattended sloop out of the mooring -areas, but though everyone offered sympathy and -promised to help if they happened to see it, none -had any information to offer.</p> -<p>The morning wore on slowly as Sandy and Jerry -pulled farther and farther away from the mainland, -exploring every possible hiding place the -bay had to offer.</p> -<p>By noon, Sandy’s spirits were at low ebb, and he -was beginning to wonder how he would tell his -Uncle Russ the bad news. Then, almost tipping -the unsteady dinghy, Jerry half rose from his seat -and pointed. “Look!” he shouted. “Over there! I -think that’s her! And will you look at where she -drifted to!”</p> -<p>Sandy dropped the oars and turned to look at -the small white sloop with the green decks that -lay quietly bobbing at anchor just outside the -entrance of the cove where, yesterday, they had -been welcomed by a gun!</p> -<p>“Of all places to drift to,” he gasped. “It’s a -darn good thing she didn’t drift inside his cove, -or she might be shot full of holes by now!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div> -<p>Then, with a lighter heart than he had felt all -morning, Sandy picked up the oars and sent the -dinghy fairly flying to the side of the trim sloop.</p> -<p>“From now on,” he said, “sleeping bags and air -mattresses or not, we’re sleeping on board until -we get a permanent mooring for this boat near -home!” Relieved and happy, Sandy climbed on -board as Jerry tied the dinghy to the stern.</p> -<p>“I’ll go below to get the sails out,” Sandy said, -“while you unship the boom and get the rigging -ready.”</p> -<p>He opened the hatch cover and slid back the -doors, then stepped down into the little cabin. -As he started forward to the sail lockers, he had a -sudden, odd feeling that something was wrong, -something out of place; a strange notion that he -had seen, out of the corner of his eye, something -that was not what it should have been.</p> -<p>Pausing to look around, he saw what had -bothered him. Clamped to the bulkhead over the -port bunk was a large, oddly shaped brass pistol, -like the kind he had always imagined the old-time -pirates carried. He had never seen anything like -it before—and he was almost positive that it had -not been there yesterday!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div> -<p>“Jerry!” he called, sticking his head out of the -hatch. “Come here! I want you to see something -and tell me what you think.” As Jerry poked his -head into the cabin, Sandy gestured at the brass -pistol. “Was that thing here yesterday, or have -we gotten into somebody else’s boat?”</p> -<p>Jerry brought his dark brows together in a -frown and scratched his crew-cut head. “I don’t -think it was here. I probably would have noticed -it. But maybe we just didn’t see it. We were so -busy with other things.”</p> -<p>“But why would Uncle Russ have left a pistol -on board?” Sandy asked, puzzled.</p> -<p>“He probably wouldn’t have,” Jerry said. “But -he might have left one of these. That’s a flare gun, -not a regular pistol at all. You use it as a signal -of distress. It shoots a rocket. Still ... I don’t -remember seeing it. And I know that your uncle -didn’t mention leaving one.”</p> -<p>“Well, I don’t know whether he did or not,” -Sandy said, “but we’d better make sure this is -our boat before we go sailing it off. If it belongs to -that guy on the island, we could get into some -pretty bad trouble if we took it by mistake!”</p> -<p>As they looked for some identifying marks, an -idea suddenly occurred to Sandy. “Maybe this isn’t -our boat, but one just like it, and maybe the man -with the gun was expecting it with somebody else -on board! That might explain his actions!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div> -<p>“That makes sense,” Jerry said. “And in that -case, we’d better find out fast if it’s ours. Look—our -boat didn’t have any name on it, and most -boats do. If this has a name, we’ll know.” He -hurried to the stern to see, and then to the bow, -where some boat owners fasten name plates, but -none was to be seen.</p> -<p>“That doesn’t prove anything, though,” Sandy -said. “But I have an idea. Let’s look in the food -locker. I remember pretty well what was in there -yesterday, and I doubt if two boats would have -the identical food supplies. One look should tell -us.” He reached above the galley stove and slid -back the doors of the locker, then stepped backward -as if he had been hit.</p> -<p>“It’s sure not our boat,” Sandy said in hushed -tones, for in the locker there was no food at all. -Instead, where food should have been, was what -appeared to be a fortune in fresh, green money!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div> -<h2 id="c7"><span class="small">CHAPTER SEVEN</span> -<br />A Million Dollars’ Worth of Trouble</h2> -<p>Sandy and Jerry, stunned for the moment, stood -in silence, gazing at the neatly wrapped stacks of -tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds and five-hundred-dollar -bills—more money than either of them -had ever dreamed of!</p> -<p>“I don’t know whose boat this is,” Sandy said, -“but whoever he is, he can sure afford a larger -one!”</p> -<p>Awed by the sight of the money, Jerry reached -out and slipped a five-hundred-dollar bill from its -wrapper. “I just want to look at it for a minute,” -he said. “I’ve never seen a five-hundred before!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div> -<p>Sandy joined him to look at the crisp bill. -“Neither have I,” he said. Then, stooping to look -closer, he took the bill from Jerry’s hand and -examined it with the most intense interest.</p> -<p>“Jerry!” he said, almost in a whisper. “I think -we’ve found more than a stack of money in a -peculiar place! I may be mistaken, but I think this -thing is counterfeit!”</p> -<p>“Counterfeit!” Jerry said, with a gasp. “How -can you tell, if you never saw a five-hundred-dollar -bill before?”</p> -<p>“Come on over into the sunlight where we can -see better,” Sandy replied, “and I’ll show you what -I mean.” They moved to the rear of the little -cabin, where the sun poured in through the open -hatchway cover. Sandy held the money up to the -light.</p> -<p>“Look at the corners,” he said, pointing to the -lower right-hand corner of the bill. “You see all -those fine hair lines that make the looping, criss-cross -pattern you see on all paper money? Well, I -read once that those loops and swirls are the hardest -part of a bill to counterfeit, and if you’re on -the lookout for phony money you should always -look there first. Ones or one-thousands, they’re all -very complicated to engrave. On a genuine bill the -lines are sharp and clear. On a counterfeit, they’re -usually a little fuzzy, especially where two lines -cross. Look over here, right next to the five-hundred-dollar -mark, for instance.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> -<p>He pointed to where a complicated series of -fine lines that came together had made a small -smear, instead of a sharp, well-defined pattern.</p> -<p>“You’d never find sloppy work like that on a -genuine government bill,” Sandy said, pointing -to this and to another telltale spot his sharp eyes -had uncovered.</p> -<p>“I see what you mean,” Jerry said. “Boy, there -must be more than a million dollars’ worth of this -useless stuff in that food locker!”</p> -<p>“It’s not so useless to someone,” Sandy returned. -“Whoever made this stuff and is responsible for it -is sure making real money out of it in the end—and -an awful lot of real money, too!”</p> -<p>Jerry nodded thoughtfully, then said, “Where -do you suppose it’s coming from?”</p> -<p>“That shouldn’t be too hard to figure out,” -Sandy answered. “That man on the island was -pretty nervous about having any unexpected -guests, I’d say. I’ll bet you this whole stack of -money that he’s behind the whole thing, and that -this is his boat that we’re on!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> -<p>“You must be right,” Jerry said. “From the way -that he came racing down that path with his gun -yesterday, he must have been watching us all -along, yet he didn’t come to stop us until we had -dropped our anchor, lowered our sails, and were -halfway in to shore in the dinghy! We should have -realized when he didn’t stop us sooner what that -meant. It meant that something funny was going -on here!”</p> -<p>“That’s right!” Sandy agreed. “He must have -been expecting somebody else to come along in -this boat—the same class and colors as ours—and -he thought that we were whoever he was expecting—until -he saw us in the dinghy! That’s why he -was acting so confused and excited that he didn’t -know whether to shoot at us, or to be nice and let -us get our water and be on our way. We really -caught him off guard!”</p> -<p>“Right,” Jerry said. “And now we’ve confused -the boats the same way he did, and we’ve caught -him off guard again!”</p> -<p>Sandy sat looking silently at the counterfeit five-hundred-dollar -bill, frowning. Then he looked up -at his friend and said, “The question now is, what -are we going to do about it? We’re pretty lucky -that we weren’t seen coming on board this boat, -but do you think our luck is going to last? I’m -worried that we won’t be able to get away from -here again without being seen.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div> -<p>“We haven’t got much choice in the matter, -have we?” Jerry answered. “The longer we stay -here, the worse our chances will be. There’s no -telling when the man with the gun or somebody -else will come out here to do something with this -money, and if they find us here....”</p> -<p>“I’d sure hate to cross that fellow,” Sandy -agreed. “I don’t like the way he handles that rifle -of his. He looks too darn ready to use it!”</p> -<p>Stuffing the counterfeit five-hundred-dollar bill -into his pocket, Sandy stood up. “We’d better get -going now, while we still have a chance,” he said. -“The only thing to do now is to get this bill to -the police as evidence of what we’ve found, and -to put them on to this island.”</p> -<p>Sandy started up from the cabin but, as his head -emerged from the hatchway, he stopped dead in -his tracks, for floating in a dinghy just a few feet -away was the mysterious owner of the island accompanied -by two tough-looking sailors! Sandy -looked in dismay from their three faces to the -muzzles of three guns pointed directly at him!</p> -<p>It was not a pleasant smile that the man from -the island gave him as he said, “Well! This is quite -a surprise for all of us, isn’t it? Are you still looking -for water? Or do you have a better story to -entertain me with today?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> -<h2 id="c8"><span class="small">CHAPTER EIGHT</span> -<br />Double Blackout</h2> -<p>Sandy tried his hardest to look unknowing and -innocent, and at the same time shocked and outraged. -With the three guns aimed at him, it was -not an easy job.</p> -<p>“What’s the idea?” he exclaimed. “I’ve never -seen anybody so ready with a gun as you are! We -were only looking for our boat. You know it looks -the same as yours. We thought for a while that -this was it, but....”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div> -<p>“But you found out, after some thorough -snooping, that it wasn’t, didn’t you?” the man -sneered. “Of course you did. It’s my boat, all right! -And you’re trespassing on it! And this is my island -too, and you were trespassing there yesterday! -And if I were to shoot you, I would be perfectly -within my rights as a landowner!”</p> -<p>Sandy tried with difficulty to smile reassuringly. -“Take it easy, mister,” he said. “Honestly, we -were just looking for our boat. It dragged anchor -in the storm last night, and when we saw yours -we made a natural mistake and thought it was -ours. Okay, it isn’t. We made a mistake, that’s all. -Now if you’ll just let us apologize, we’ll get off -your private property and go looking again.”</p> -<p>But the man didn’t show the slightest intention -of even moving his rifle from the ready, much -less of letting the boys go.</p> -<p>“Of course you’ll go looking again,” he said. -“Looking for what you were looking for yesterday -and today. Oh, no! I hardly think I can let you -go!” Then he smiled his peculiar smile again. -“What’s more,” he added, “even if I were to let -you go, I would first have to ask you to return the -money you stole—the money I see sticking out -of your pocket!”</p> -<p>Sandy’s heart sank. There was nothing he could -think of to say now, and he could see no way out -of the situation. He sank wearily to a seat in the -cockpit and sighed.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div> -<p>“I guess we can both stop play-acting about this -trespassing thing,” he said. He pulled the telltale -bill out of his pocket and threw it on the deck. -“This is what you’ve been so upset about all along, -isn’t it?”</p> -<p>“You’re a very bright boy,” the man with the -gun said. “Far too bright, I’m afraid. You have -this whole thing figured out already, haven’t you?”</p> -<p>“Most of it,” Sandy admitted. “At least the parts -that count. You’re using this island to make -counterfeit money, and you’re using this sailboat -to take it somewhere. That’s about all I know, -but it’s enough to get you in trouble, isn’t it, -Mr.—?”</p> -<p>“Jones is the name,” the man said. “Yes, I -would say it was quite enough. The only mistake -you’ve made is your conclusion. What you know is -enough to get <i>you</i> in trouble—not me. In fact, I -should hate to be in as much trouble as you two -boys are in right now!” Jones put down his rifle -for a moment and said, “Do you mind if I come -on board my boat so that we can discuss your -difficulties in more comfort?”</p> -<p>Jones stepped out of the dinghy to the deck of -the little sloop and settled himself comfortably in -the stern seat while his two silent crewmen kept -Sandy covered. When he was set, with his ever-present -rifle held at ready across his knees, he was -followed on board by the larger and meaner looking -of the two sailors, who stationed himself beside Jones.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div> -<p>“Oh, yes,” Jones repeated, “I should say that -what you know is quite enough! And, since you -already have too much information to ever let -you leave here with, I’ll be happy to satisfy your -immense curiosity by giving you a little more. But -why not have your friend join us on deck?”</p> -<p>When Jerry had come up from the cabin and -was sitting beside Sandy, Jones cleared his throat, -as if he were about to give a formal speech.</p> -<p>“As far as you went in your thinking, you are -most certainly right,” he said. “I use this boat to -transport counterfeit money which I make on my -island. I take it to a waiting freighter that meets -me five miles off shore—well beyond the legal -jurisdiction of the United States government, in -international waters. The freighter takes my pretty -counterfeit money and disposes of it in foreign -markets, where I get a good price for it, and where -not every bright and nosy boy is out to make a -nuisance of himself.”</p> -<p>Then, once again, Jones smiled his peculiar and -unpleasant smile. “I find the foreign markets most -useful for disposing of items which are too difficult -to get rid of here. I expect that you will not -be much harder to dispose of than this money, -when you are beyond the limits of U.S. waters!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div> -<p>Sandy looked at Jerry in silence, desperately -hoping his friend would come up with some flash -of inspiration—some idea—which would help -them to get out of this situation. But Jerry was no -help. For that matter, Sandy reflected, he was not -much help himself. But as long as he kept “Jones” -talking, he’d get some more information and -meanwhile, perhaps, he or Jerry might think of -something.</p> -<p>“There’s only one thing that has me puzzled -in all this,” Sandy said therefore. “Why did you -leave this boat full of money floating around outside -of the cove?”</p> -<p>Jones laughed. “There you have the full essence -of our little comedy of errors,” he said. “Last -night’s storm probably tore more than one -hundred boats loose from their anchorages and -moorings. Yours, I assure you, wasn’t the only one -that drifted a good distance, and neither was -mine!”</p> -<p>“Yours?” Jerry gasped. “You mean that our -boat <i>did</i> drift over this way? And that you—?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> -<p>“I think you understand,” Jones replied. “But -it wasn’t I. It was these stupid fools who work -for me. They had loaded the money on board the -boat last night before the storm. Then, when it -blew up, we knew that it was impossible to sail -to the freighter until the storm had passed. They -failed to take the money out of the boat for the -night, trusting to luck that nothing would go -wrong. But something did go wrong! My boat -broke loose and floated out around the point to -where it is now. Your boat drifted up to the -entrance of my cove. When they came out this -morning, my assistants saw your boat, and did not -see mine.”</p> -<p>Jones laughed a short, sharp laugh. “They -actually sailed your sloop five miles out to the -freighter! Of course they discovered their mistake -when they opened the money locker and found it -full of canned food!”</p> -<p>He looked at the sailors with disgust, then continued. -“When they realized their error, they -promptly sailed back here, but by that time you -had found my boat and assumed it to be yours. -When they told me their story, I guessed at once -what had happened and went to correct the mistake -before you found out about our little business. -If you had only come a half hour later, you -would have found your own boat and sailed it off -in perfect safety. Unfortunately for you, you were -just a little too soon.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> -<p>“As long as you’re telling us the whole story,” -Jerry said, “will you answer a question for me? -I don’t understand why you bother with sailboats, -when a power boat could do the job so much -faster.”</p> -<p>“That’s a fair question,” Jones said. “You <i>are</i> -smart boys, aren’t you? Well, I pride myself on -using my brains, too. I use this innocent-looking -sloop for several reasons, one of which caused this -whole ridiculous mix-up. For one thing, an individual -member of a popular class of sailboat is -very hard for the casual observer to identify. This -we have both seen to be true. For another thing, -everyone thinks of a sailboat as being merely a -pleasure craft, and would never suspect it of anything -illegal. It can go in and out of the harbor -on a regular schedule and nobody will notice -it or even realize it’s the same boat they are -seeing. Third, all power boats have to be registered -and licensed by the Coast Guard, while a -sailboat is so anonymous that it doesn’t even have -to have a name. Fourth, it gives me a reason to -live on this island. To the people who stop to -think of me, if they think of me at all, I am a retired -gentleman whose principal hobby is sailing, -and who lives on an island in order to get the most -enjoyment out of the sport.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div> -<p>Again Jones smiled, and Sandy shivered. “It’s -quite a neat setup, don’t you agree?” Jones said. -“And, with the same neatness that is a part of my -way of life, I am now going to put an end to this -whole unpleasant interruption.”</p> -<p>Suddenly dropping his lazy conversational -manner, Jones sat upright and pointed his rifle at -Sandy. Not moving his eyes from the boys, he -spoke to the sailor who was still standing silent by -his side. “We’ll have to take them out to the -freighter now. There’s nothing else to do. I’ll -decide what to do with them later on. You and -Turk sail this boat and I’ll follow in theirs. Lock -them below,” he added, nodding toward Sandy -and Jerry.</p> -<p>For the first time since they had seen him, the -sailor spoke. “Okay,” he said. “We won’t mess it -up this time.” Then, this being apparently the -longest speech of which he was capable, he shut his -mouth into a thin, hard line, and moved heavily -to the boys.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> -<p>Using his pistol as a goad, he poked Sandy in -the ribs and motioned him to go below. As Sandy -started to take his first step down into the cabin, -the sailor shoved him roughly and sent him -sprawling onto the deck below. His head spinning, -Sandy looked up to see the giant sailor towering -above him. He was conscious of an odd noise, like -a strangled, slow sobbing, far away. What was it? -He had never heard such an ugly sound in his -life....</p> -<p>Then, as his head cleared, he realized what it -was that he was hearing. The sailor was laughing!</p> -<p>Afterward, Sandy was unable to explain why -the strange laughing sound, and the sight of the -warped expression that only faintly resembled a -smile, should have made him behave as he did. -An uncontrollable fury filled him and he jumped -to his feet with a headlong rush!</p> -<p>Caught off guard by Sandy’s sudden attack, the -sailor made a clumsy move to sidestep, but not -before Sandy’s swing had caught him a terrific -blow in the ribs. All of Sandy’s six feet of wiry -muscle went into the blow, and the sailor reeled -back, staggering.</p> -<p>Sandy followed him into the cockpit to take -advantage of the surprise attack, just in time to see -Jones bring down the barrel of his rifle sharply on -Jerry’s head. Sandy whirled to face Jones as Jerry -dropped to the deck.</p> -<p>He started forward, cocking his fist to lash out -before Jones could raise his rifle again, but -suddenly, with a sound like a bat striking a ball, a -blinding light seemed to explode in his face. This -first sensation was followed by a dull roaring -sound and a spreading pool of inky blackness. He -felt his knees buckle....</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div> -<p>Somewhere, from afar, he heard Jones speaking -in bored tones.</p> -<p>“Bull,” he was saying, almost lazily, “you know -how I dislike unnecessary violence in any form. If -you hadn’t shoved the boy, this little scene would -never—”</p> -<p>And that was the last Sandy was to hear for -quite a while.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div> -<h2 id="c9"><span class="small">CHAPTER NINE</span> -<br />To the Freighter</h2> -<p>When Sandy came to, the first thing he was aware -of was a terrific headache. This was accompanied -by such severe dizziness that when he tried to sit -up he sank back immediately, holding his head. -Gingerly, he ran his hand over his skull as if to -make sure that it was still all in one piece. Then -he lay still for a while, afraid to try moving anything -else, and looked at the ceiling above him.</p> -<p>Slowly, the dizziness ebbed away and the pain -lurking behind his eyes settled down to a more -bearable level. When he felt it was safe to try, he -moved more cautiously than the first time, sat up -and swung his long legs over the edge of the bunk.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div> -<p>For a moment, he simply sat there with his -elbows on his knees and his head propped in his -hands, and looked at the decking. He had to think -hard, as if he were remembering a dream that was -fast fading away. Why was he in this bunk below? -How was Jerry handling the boat alone? He -frowned, pushed back his cowlick and raised his -head.</p> -<p>As he did so, he caught sight of the brass flare -gun clipped to its bracket on the opposite bulkhead, -and suddenly he remembered everything -that had happened. Of course! This was not his -boat at all, and Jerry wasn’t sailing it alone—or -in any other way, for that matter!</p> -<p>Jerry lay on the opposite bunk below the flare -gun, propped up on one elbow and looking at -him with a grin.</p> -<p>“I guess it isn’t funny,” he said, “but you sure -took an awful long time to wake up and figure out -what had happened to you! I’ve been lying here -awake for five minutes now, just watching you -come up from under!” Ruefully rubbing a hand -across his black crew-cut, he added, “I guess I -must have taken the same length of time doing it -when I woke up, but there wasn’t anybody here -to time me!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div> -<p>“I saw Jones hit you,” Sandy said, “and he sure -wasn’t making any special effort to be gentle. I -guess that Bull, the big sailor, got me from behind -when I turned to go after Jones.”</p> -<p>Still rubbing his head, Jerry sat up in his bunk -and faced his friend. “Sandy,” he asked, “what -made you take a swing at Bull like that? You sure -must have known that the two of us didn’t stand -much of a chance in a fight against three men with -guns!”</p> -<p>“I don’t suppose I was really thinking at all,” -Sandy answered. “I know it was a pretty foolish -thing to do, but there was just something about -Bull’s laugh.... Anyway, I’m sorry. It could -have got us killed right then and there, I guess. As -it is, I think we’re lucky to have got away with -nothing more than a couple of headaches.”</p> -<p>“What do you mean, a couple?” Jerry said. “I’ve -got two myself!”</p> -<p>Both boys laughed, but as their laughter died -down, they became more serious than they had -been before.</p> -<p>“Look, we can sit here and make jokes about -the situation until they get us out to that -freighter,” Sandy said, “but that isn’t going to -help us to figure out a way to escape and get to -the police.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div> -<p>“You’re perfectly right,” Jerry agreed. “We’d -better scout around and size things up while we’ve -got a chance.”</p> -<p>“And we’d better do it fast,” Sandy added. “We -don’t know how long we’ve been knocked out, so -we haven’t any idea how much time we have left -before we arrive at the freighter. And by then, it -might very well be too late to do anything for ourselves -at all.”</p> -<p>Half rising from their bunks, for the cabin roof -was too low to allow them full standing headroom, -they moved aft to the sliding doors that separated -them from the cockpit. Gently testing the doors, -Sandy found that they were locked, as he had -assumed they would be. A crack of light showed -where the two halves of the door met, and he -placed his eye to it. With a frown, he turned -around to look at Jerry.</p> -<p>“Boy, they’re not taking any chances this time,” -he whispered. “Both of the sailors are out there in -the cockpit, and the one called Turk has his pistol -in his hand, and it’s pointed right at this door!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> -<p>Moving back to the bunks, Sandy and Jerry -knelt to look through the small windows above -them. On both sides of the sloop, there was -nothing to see but water—not so much as a buoy -or another boat in sight. Far off to the starboard -side, they made out a low smudge that was the -shore.</p> -<p>“We must be almost there!” Sandy said.</p> -<p>“Do you think there’s any use trying the forward -hatch?” asked Jerry. “Or do you suppose -that they have that one locked tight, too?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know if it matters much one way or the -other,” Sandy sighed. “Even if it is open, I -wouldn’t care to stick my head out—not with -Turk sitting back there with his pistol ready! I -think I’ve had enough of rushing into pistols for -one day!” Putting his hand to his head, he felt the -lump that was forming above his right ear.</p> -<p>Moving with the most extreme caution, so as to -attract no attention from their guards, they started -to explore the cabin for whatever possibilities it -had to offer. Coming to the two tiny forward portholes, -barely large enough to put a hand through, -Sandy paused to take a look forward.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div> -<p>Before their bow, perhaps fifty yards away, was -a boat sailing calmly along as if the whole world -were on a holiday. For one short instant, Sandy -thought that this might be their chance—perhaps -a signal with the flare gun might bring aid from -the passing sailor! But his hopes were shattered in -no time as he realized that the sloop sailing ahead -was his own, sailed by Jones who was leading the -way to the freighter that waited, like doom, not -far off.</p> -<p>Even in his hopelessness, Sandy could not help -pausing to admire his boat, graceful and trim, -making good time beating into a steady breeze. He -thought for a moment of the preceding day when -he had learned to take the tiller and had first -felt the happy pride of ownership and accomplishment -that comes to every boat owner. What a -change in fortunes this new day had brought! -Now his boat was no longer his and, instead of -carrying him to pleasure, was leading him to what -looked like certain disaster!</p> -<p>As he watched, his boat suddenly put about on -a new tack. He saw Jones skillfully handling both -the tiller and the sheets. The jib was swiftly -brought over to fill and, together with the mainsail, -was trimmed and drawing in no time. Whatever -else you could say about Jones, Sandy -thought, the man sure knew how to handle a boat!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div> -<p>The new tack set by Jones was followed by their -sailor-guards. With a creak of tackle and rigging -and a shifting of weight to the opposite side, the -little sloop came about. Still at his lookout post at -the forward port, Sandy saw the head of the boat -swing about. As it did so, he caught sight of their -destination.</p> -<p>“Jerry! Look!” he whispered, motioning his -friend to join him at the other porthole. There, -high in the water, perhaps a mile away, was the -dark shape of the freighter. Wisps of gray-white -smoke curled from its stack and drifted off in the -breeze. It was an ordinary-looking freight cargo -ship, such as you would see in any port of the -world. It had a black hull, a white deckhouse and -a black stack marked with green stripes. All -perfectly ordinary, perhaps, but to Sandy and -Jerry it looked sinister and piratical. They stared -at it for a few minutes, trying to judge their rate -of progress from the lessening distance between -themselves and the black-hulled ship. Then Sandy -tore himself away from the porthole and grabbed -Jerry’s arm.</p> -<p>“Jerry, we’ve got to start acting fast,” he said. -“There’s hardly any time left!”</p> -<p>“Act how?” Jerry said. “What can we do but sit -here and wait like a couple of chickens in a crate -being taken to market? If you can think of anything -to do, I’m game, but I haven’t got an idea in -my head.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> -<p>“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about -the situation now,” Sandy said, “but I have an idea -that might work later on. It may not be worth -much, but anything’s worth trying.” He cast his -eyes about the small cabin.</p> -<p>“Did you by any chance come across a first-aid -kit while you were searching?” he asked.</p> -<p>“Yes, I did,” Jerry answered. “It’s in that locker -next to the money. But what do you want it for?”</p> -<p>“Bring it over and I’ll show you,” Sandy -answered.</p> -<p>While Jerry went for the first-aid kit, Sandy -took the brass flare pistol from its bracket above -the bunk. Then he sat down on the bunk and -rolled up his pants leg. “Here,” he said. “Give -me some tape. I’m going to strap this bulky thing -to my leg if we have enough.”</p> -<p>“What for?” Jerry asked in surprise. “It’s not a -real gun, you know. All it does is fire a flare. Besides, -there’s only one flare in here, and I don’t -know if that can do us very much good.”</p> -<p>“I don’t care about the flares,” Sandy answered. -“It’s the gun itself that I’m interested in. It fooled -me when I saw it and it just might possibly fool -someone else who might not be familiar with these -things. I’m hoping that if we get a chance to pull -it on someone after dark, we can fool him long -enough to get hold of a real gun that will help us -escape!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div> -<p>“That’s not a bad idea,” Jerry admitted. “That -is, if we’re still alive by dark!”</p> -<p>“That’s about all I’m hoping for now,” Sandy -answered. “I don’t know whether we can do any -good with this flare gun or not, but it’s pretty clear -that we can’t escape from <i>this</i> boat. So I’m doing -what I can to let us be able to take advantage of -any chance we get on board the freighter. If we’re -lucky enough to <i>get</i> a chance.”</p> -<p>As he spoke, Sandy was fastening the bulky flare -pistol to the inside of his calf, making it as secure -as he could with the tape from the first-aid kit. -Finished at last, he stood up as well as he could -in the low-ceilinged cabin, and tried to walk -around.</p> -<p>“Does it show too much?” he asked Jerry, -shaking his leg a little.</p> -<p>“It shows,” Jerry said, without much encouragement. -“But maybe if you move around carefully, -and if they don’t take a sudden interest in your -legs, you might get away with it. Anyway, what can -we lose by trying?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div> -<p>Sandy looked down at the bulge which so obviously -distorted the leg of his blue jeans. He was -afraid that he would never get away with it. He -remembered the bell-bottom pants that the Navy -enlisted men wear and that all sailors once wore, -and he wondered if their original purpose had -been to carry concealed weapons. Whatever they -were for, he sure wished he were wearing a pair -now!</p> -<p>“I guess this is about as good as we can get it,” -Sandy said. “If one of us only had a jacket on, we -could probably hide the gun under an arm, but -these sweat shirts just don’t leave enough room.”</p> -<p>“No, I think the leg is a better place anyway,” -Jerry said. “If they search us for weapons, they’re -apt to miss your leg, but they’d never miss patting -you under the arm. Anyway, we don’t have a -jacket, and as far as I can see there’s no place else -to hide the thing.”</p> -<p>The boys took a last look around the cabin to -see if there was anything else to help them, but -there was not even a small kitchen knife or a can -opener in the little galley. It seemed that Mr. -Jones kept only counterfeit money in that area. As -they were carefully exploring every possible nook -and cranny in the cabin, they felt the sloop heel to -the other side as it once more came about to go on -a new tack.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div> -<p>From the vantage point of the two forward ports -they saw the reason for this latest maneuver. They -were coming up to the wind alongside the -freighter, preparing to stop. The high sides of the -big ship loomed above them like the walls of a -fortress, but chipped and scarred with streaks of -rust. As the sloop swung completely into the wind, -losing headway, they caught sight of Jones making -a line fast to the bow of Sandy’s boat. Then, with -a rattle of slides and a clumping of heavy steps on -the cabin roof overhead, the counterfeiters’ craft -came to a halt and was made fast alongside the -freighter.</p> -<p>Whatever was to happen, it would happen now!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div> -<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER TEN</span> -<br />Aboard the Floating Prison</h2> -<p>Moving away from the forward portholes, Sandy -and Jerry sat on the edges of the bunks and waited -for their captors to come and get them. Both boys -made themselves look as if they were completely -dejected—as if they had already given up any -hopes they might have had of escaping or of being -rescued.</p> -<p>In a few minutes the footsteps on the deck and -cabin top stopped and the little craft lay bobbing -and wallowing in the sea swell that rose and fell -alongside the freighter.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div> -<p>Rope bumpers, large braided lengths of thick -cordage, were lashed to the sides of the sloop to -keep it from being damaged by rubbing and banging -against the steel side of the big ship.</p> -<p>Although they were listening as closely as possible -to everything that went on, they could not -make out the words they heard shouted from the -freighter’s deck far above. Nevertheless, the sense -of them was made clear by the answer that Turk -bellowed back.</p> -<p>“Yeah! we got the stuff this time, all right! And -we got a couple of other pieces of cargo with us, -too! Wait and we’ll show you!”</p> -<p>This was the moment, Sandy thought. He -would have to be careful, he warned himself, not -to lose his temper as he had done last time, even -if he was roughed up and shoved around again. -And above all, he must be careful about the way -he moved. One false step would surely outline the -telltale shape of the flare gun taped to his leg—and -that would be the end of the only “weapon” -that he and Jerry had! Not only that, but it might -well be the end of the only chance they would -have to get away with whole skins!</p> -<p>A bolt grated in its slide on the companionway -door and the hatch slid open to reveal Turk, -pistol in hand, grinning nastily at them.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div> -<p>“Okay, gents,” he said. “The first-class passage -on the local ferry is over. Just step up on deck, -and we’ll transfer to the next vessel.”</p> -<p>As Sandy reached the companionway steps, -Turk reached down and grabbed him by the neck -of his shirt. With a swift heave, he sent Sandy -sprawling on the cockpit deck. Keeping a tight -control on his temper, Sandy confined his thoughts -to worrying about getting his leg tucked under -him in such a position that the flare pistol -wouldn’t show.</p> -<p>But he need not have worried, for Turk was too -busy enjoying himself giving the same treatment -to Jerry, who came flying out of the cabin to land -heavily on the deck alongside Sandy.</p> -<p>“These boys sure play a lot of rough games,” he -murmured. “And I’m afraid that this is only the -beginning of a whole world’s series!”</p> -<p>“Take it easy,” Sandy whispered to his friend. -“Let’s just go along with them quietly. Maybe we -can keep in one piece until we have a chance to -figure a way out.”</p> -<p>At Turk’s orders, they rose to their feet. Looking -up to the freighter’s deck high above them, -they saw the other sailor, Bull, already on board, -at the top of a long rope ladder. He too had his -pistol held ready, and the expression on his face -gave every indication that he would be only too -glad to use it if he were given even half an excuse to do so.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div> -<p>“Get up that ladder,” Turk ordered, “and don’t -try nothing funny. We’ll have you covered all the -way.” He waved his pistol at Jerry to indicate that -he wanted him to go up the ladder first.</p> -<p>Sandy’s heart seemed to sink in his chest. The -order of climbing was all wrong—it couldn’t be -wronger! Jerry first, himself next, and Turk last! -Surely Turk, if he was below him looking up as he -climbed, couldn’t fail to notice the flare pistol -taped to Sandy’s leg!</p> -<p>Acting as if he misunderstood Turk’s wordless -command, Sandy stepped forward and grabbed -the rope ladder, but the sailor’s big hand gripped -him by the shoulder hard and firmly pulled him -back.</p> -<p>“You sure are eager, ain’t ya, kid? And you’re -tricky, too. Now why did you want to go up that -ladder first? That ain’t no picnic or party up -there!” He screwed his big face into a frown of -deep thought. Apparently unable to reach a decision, -he undid his thinking expression and snarled -at Sandy. “Just stop thinkin’ up tricks, see! You -let me do the thinkin’ here! Now, you go on first, -the way I told ya!” He pushed Jerry toward the -ladder.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div> -<p>Resigned to having his flare gun discovered, and -almost resigned to whatever would happen next, -Sandy moved to the ladder to take his turn, when -once more the big hand of Turk pulled him -back. “I told you I’d do the thinkin’!” Turk -said. “I don’t know what you got up your sleeve, -but whatever it is, you’d better forget it. I’m goin’ -up next!”</p> -<p>At last, here was a turn of luck! Sandy could -hardly keep from grinning as Turk started to -mount the rope ladder. The big sailor swung up -easily, keeping his eyes always turned downward -to Sandy. Halfway up, he stopped.</p> -<p>“Come on, now,” he said. “You won’t be able -to play no tricks this way. You’re too far back for -any leg grabbing, and I got this gun aimed right -at the top of your head. Now come on up, and -come slow!”</p> -<p>Sandy stepped from the deck of the sloop to the -lower rungs of the rope ladder and did as he was -told, moving his “gun leg” as carefully as he -could without running the risk of attracting any -attention to it. At least, he thought with some -satisfaction, he had gotten over the first hurdle!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div> -<p>On the deck of the freighter, the boys were met -by Jones, Bull, and a mean-looking crew of some -of the dirtiest men they had ever seen. The -freighter itself was none too clean, with paint -scaling from the decks and splotches of grease -covering the cargo-handling winches and other -deck machinery. The white deckhouse, seen from -close quarters, was a dingy and spotted gray, and -the portholes were streaked with dirt and dried -salt.</p> -<p>In the midst of a rat’s nest of coiled ropes, fraying -cables and other ship’s debris, Jones sat on an -overturned crate as if it were an easy chair. He -seemed perfectly at ease and completely out of -place at the same time, his smart sports clothes and -yachting cap making an odd contrast to the mixed -clothing of the freighter’s crew.</p> -<p>Despite his air of being a gentleman of leisure, -Jones had his rifle still with him, lying across his -knees, and his long fingers played restlessly with -the safety catch and the trigger.</p> -<p>“Gentlemen,” he smiled. “Welcome aboard. I -hope you will find our modest accommodations -suitable for your long journey. The Captain will -arrive in a moment, and I am sure that he will do -whatever is in his power to see to it that you are -treated—appropriately.” Still smiling, he turned -to Bull and said, “Bull, see to it that our passengers -aren’t carrying any unnecessary luggage.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div> -<p>Bull looked puzzled. “I don’t getcha,” he -mumbled.</p> -<p>Jones rose with a swift movement, his smile -turned at once to ice. “If you weren’t such a stupid -lout, perhaps you’d get me the first time I speak -to you! If you weren’t such a stupid lout, we -wouldn’t have had these boys here with us in the -first place.”</p> -<p>He moved forward as if to strike the cowering -Bull, but stopped and regained control over himself. -Once more, he put on his bland smile.</p> -<p>“Pardon my temper and my little jokes, Bull,” -he said. “What I meant by ‘unnecessary luggage’ -was concealed weapons. In other words, frisk -them.”</p> -<p>Bull shook his head and said, “Why’ntcha say -so inna first place?” and started toward Jerry and -Sandy.</p> -<p>Once again Sandy tensed. If only his luck would -hold and he could get through without having -Bull find the flare gun! Otherwise....</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div> -<p>He watched as Bull patted Jerry, none too -gently. He realized that, if Jerry had been wearing -a jacket under which to hide the flare gun, it -would surely have been discovered. Soon Bull was -finished with Jerry, and it was Sandy’s turn. Bull -frisked him quickly and clumsily, patting his chest -and under his arms, even though it was obvious -that he couldn’t possibly have hidden anything -there. Bull’s big hands continued down to Sandy’s -pockets, hesitated for a moment, and stopped -right there. He turned to face Jones.</p> -<p>“They’re clean,” he said.</p> -<p>Jones nodded, not paying too much attention -to Bull or to the search. “I didn’t think that they -would have had the foresight to bring any -weapons. Still—there’s no sense taking any -chances. In this business, one can’t be too careful.”</p> -<p>Noticing that Jones was not looking directly -at either Bull or themselves as he said all this, -Sandy followed his gaze to the upper decks of the -freighter, wondering what he <i>was</i> looking for. A -door swung open and a man stepped out into -the late afternoon sunshine. Jones rose, waved to -the man and called, “Captain! Come down! We -have a little surprise for you!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div> -<p>Sandy had not known what to expect of the -captain of such a ship as this, but surely, the man -who came down the ladder did not look in the -least like anything he might have imagined! He -would not have been really surprised by a bearded -giant, or another tough, such as one of the crew, -or even, perhaps, by a turbaned oriental—but this -captain was surely a complete surprise!</p> -<p>He was a thin, wispy-looking old man—how -old, Sandy could not begin to guess—with a face -like a wise preacher’s or perhaps a college professor’s. -He was dressed entirely in white, down to -his old-fashioned white high-buttoned shoes, and -he carried a bamboo cane with a gold head. To -finish off this spotless outfit, so out of keeping -with his ship, the Captain wore a pith helmet, -such as British officers wear in the tropics!</p> -<p>The old man moved briskly down the steep -ladder from the upper decks and, with scarcely a -glance at the boys, addressed himself to Jones.</p> -<p>“Who are these children?” he asked, his voice -thin and reedy, but carrying authority and as -sharp as the crack of a whip.</p> -<p>As Jones explained the presence of the boys on -board the freighter, the Captain looked from them -to Jones and back again. When Jones told him -how Bull and Turk had mistaken Sandy’s sloop -for his own, the Captain shifted his gaze to the two -sailors, who almost winced under his cutting stare -of scorn. Then, when the tale was done, he devoted -his attention exclusively to Jones once more.</p> -<p>“What do you want to do about it?” he asked.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div> -<p>“I leave that entirely up to you,” Jones said. “I -want no part of any violence—if it can be avoided. -Besides, you will have them on your hands, and -I’ll be ashore, so that it’s hardly my place to dictate -the conditions of their—er—disposal.”</p> -<p>Jones rose, leaning casually on his rifle as if it -were a walking stick. “Whatever you want to do -is all right with me. Just get rid of them, that’s -all. And do it in a way that won’t attract any -suspicions ashore. I don’t want anyone poking -around the island asking questions about them.”</p> -<p>The Captain thought for a minute, then -answered, “I don’t think we’ll have anyone poking -around the island. Not if we handle this thing -right. They must not, you see, simply disappear. -If they just drop out of sight without a trace, it -will surely bring on a search, and someone may -have seen them near your place. No, that won’t -do. On the contrary, they must be found. But they -must be found in such a condition that they can -answer no questions—ever. And it must look -natural.”</p> -<p>“Perfect logic,” Jones said. “I agree completely. -But how are you going to manage it?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div> -<p>“We will keep them aboard,” the Captain -answered, “locked up below. I will tow their -sloop after us. When we are a satisfactory distance -from shore—say a thousand miles—we will put -them into their boat and cut them loose.”</p> -<p>“But,” Jones protested, “isn’t there a chance -that they could make it in to shore somewhere? -Men have managed rougher trips than that in the -past.”</p> -<p>“Don’t worry about details,” the Captain said in -his quiet, scholarly voice. “I’ll take care of everything. -First, we will drop them far out of any -regular shipping lanes. In addition, we will first -wreck their sails, their mast and their rigging as -if it had been done by a storm. When they are -finally found, it will be too late to do anything -about them. It will just look as if a storm had -wrecked them and blown them out to sea. It’s a -tidy way to operate—no messy violence—and -there will be no clues to lead to your precious -island.”</p> -<p>Jones considered for a minute before answering. -“It sounds all right to me, if you say so. After all, -you know your end of the business better than I -do.”</p> -<p>“Indeed I do,” the Captain answered calmly.</p> -<p>“Now,” Jones said briskly, dismissing the matter -of the boys from his mind, “we have my other -cargo to discuss before our dealings are finished -for this trip.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div> -<p>The Captain held up a thin, white hand to stop -Jones. “Not now,” he said. “Our business can wait -until we have refreshed ourselves and had a bit -of dinner. Then when it is dark, you can turn -over your cargo—if the terms are satisfactory—and -sail home unobserved.”</p> -<p>He waved his stick at the boys and motioned -to two of his crew members. “Take them below -and lock them in an empty cabin. And set a close -watch on them.”</p> -<p>As Sandy and Jerry were led off by the two crewmen, -they saw the Captain precede Jones to the -foot of the deckhouse ladder. He paused and -bowed, indicating that Jones should go first. -Somehow, the courtly, old-fashioned gesture -seemed to Sandy more sinister than anything else -he had seen since the start of this day.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div> -<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER ELEVEN</span> -<br />Escape to Danger</h2> -<p>Stepping over the high sill of the door that led -from the deck to the passageway, Sandy and Jerry -were plunged at once into gloom and near-darkness. -The throb of the freighter’s engines, barely -noticeable on deck, became a roar, and the passage -was thick with the smells and heat from the engine -room below.</p> -<p>They were pushed and shoved along the -passage, past a number of doors which Sandy presumed -were the crew’s quarters. On the other side -of the passage, an occasional door opened onto -the engine room, a great cavern of heat and noise, -brightly illuminated by lights on all sides, and -crisscrossed by catwalks and ladders.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div> -<p>Without a word, their guides stopped before a -door opposite the main opening to the engine -room. One of them produced a large key ring and, -after a moment’s searching for the right key, unlocked -the door.</p> -<p>Motioning them to enter, the guard stood aside -as Sandy and Jerry stepped into the gloom of a -small cabin. Then the door slammed behind -them, the key clicked in the lock, and they were -alone. Through the ventilating slits cut in the -top and bottom of the door, they heard one of -their captors.</p> -<p>“You take the first watch while I go for chow. -I’ll bring the kids something to eat when I come -back, then you can get yours.” The other said -something in agreement, and the speaker’s footsteps -in the passageway were soon drowned out in -the roar of the engines.</p> -<p>Sinking to a seat on the bare springs of a bunk -with no mattress, Jerry looked up at Sandy and -asked, “What now?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy admitted. “But at least -we got away with the flare gun, and we may figure -out a way to use it.” He lowered himself to the -bare bunk opposite the one Jerry occupied, and -surveyed their floating prison.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div> -<p>The cabin offered very little promise of help. -There were the two double bunks, both bare of -mattresses, four lockers, a sink in one corner and -a single porthole. Going to the porthole, Sandy -tried to open it, but with no success. The “dogs” -that secured it, heavy steel latches, were welded -in place, and the glass of the porthole looked too -heavy to break. Obviously, the place had been -used as a prison before. Outside of the porthole, -there was nothing but the sea. Even if the glass -could be broken, Sandy didn’t like the idea of -dropping down into the black waters below. That -seemed as unpromising a position as the one they -were in now!</p> -<p>The lockers were the next subject of their exploration -but, as they expected, these proved as -empty and bare as the cabin itself. The sink, the -only remaining thing in the room, was the source -of no inspiration.</p> -<p>Settling himself on the bunk once more, Sandy -began to roll up his pants leg. “I guess this flare -gun is our only hope at that,” he said. “We might -as well have it ready.”</p> -<p>He quickly undid the adhesive tape, then stuck -the gun in his belt. As he did so, an idea came to -him.</p> -<p>“Jerry, I think I have it!” he whispered.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div> -<p>The plan was a simple one—almost too simple -to work. But it seemed the only chance they had. -Sandy proposed to wait until the guard came with -their food, then, threatening him with the flare -pistol, they would try to overcome him, tie him -up, and make their way to the deck. Once there, -they would have to find a way out. It seemed a -slim hope, but what else could they do?</p> -<p>Jerry agreed, and whispering quietly, they -worked out the best positions to take to make their -attack good. Meanwhile, one more stroke of good -fortune came to them. Jerry found that he still -had the roll of adhesive tape in his pocket, undiscovered -in Bull’s quick inspection. It would -come in handy for binding and gagging the -guards, if they could once overcome them.</p> -<p>Now there was nothing to do but wait. Through -the porthole, they could see the sky growing dark, -and the gathering gloom in the cabin raised their -spirits. It was one more bit of aid that might fool -their jailer into thinking the flare gun was a real -weapon. The last glow of day was dying on the -horizon when they once more heard voices in the -passageway.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div> -<p>Jerry took his position by the door while Sandy -readied the flare gun, then sat on one of the bunks. -The door swung open and their guards entered, -the lead man carrying a tray and his companion -behind him.</p> -<p>As they stepped over the sill, Sandy stood up -suddenly, upsetting the tray. Hot coffee spilled -over the lead man, who stepped backward with a -cry. As he did so, Jerry, from his position behind -the door, reached out and knocked the second -man to the deck. At the same moment, Sandy -raised his flare gun and aimed.</p> -<p>“All right,” he said. “I have you covered!”</p> -<p>“Do what he says,” one of the sailors said. “Do -you see that gun? It’s a flare!”</p> -<p>Sandy was startled. If they knew it was not a -real pistol, why didn’t they charge him? Why -were they cowering away? Then he realized for -the first time that the flare pistol, used as a weapon, -must be an awful thing. Anything that could send -a stream of flame hundreds of feet into the air -could surely inflict a terrible wound when used -against a man. He shuddered, knowing he could -never use it in this way. But as long as the sailors -didn’t know it....</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div> -<p>It was short work to silence the men with adhesive-tape -gags, and to tape their hands firmly -behind their backs. When this was done, the boys -pushed the sailors into the lockers, taped their -ankles together, and shut them in. The locker -doors secured firmly with a latch. Leaving the -cabin silently, Sandy and Jerry locked its door -behind them. That certainly took care of two of -their captors. Now, if the rest would just prove -this easy!</p> -<p>As they stepped away from the door, Sandy -whispered, “Let’s get out of this passage fast. -There are too many doors here, and one might -pop open at any minute!”</p> -<p>They swiftly moved down the length of the -passage until they reached the bulkhead door. -Outside, the deck was dark, with the complete -blackness of a night at sea, pierced only by the -shaft of light that came from the passage. Moving -now as quickly as they could, they slipped out -onto the deck, and stepped back out of the light. -Their shadows had been outlined boldly against -the passage light for only a second. They crouched -in the darkness and waited to be sure they had -not been observed. So far, so good.</p> -<p>Now that they had gotten this far, Sandy realized, -their problems were just beginning. How -were they to get off the ship? And how could they -prevent being followed?</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div> -<p>“Jerry,” he whispered, “we’ve got to see to it -that we get away from here in the fastest boat -they have! I wonder if there’s a power boat -around?”</p> -<p>“There has to be,” Jerry answered. “Every ship -carries lifeboats, and one of them always has power -so it can be used as a captain’s launch when -necessary.”</p> -<p>“Well, let’s find it!” Sandy whispered.</p> -<p>Gazing over the side, they could see no boat -tied up at all. They had to work their way to the -other side of the freighter, without once more -crossing the telltale path of light from the passageway. -To do this, they had to work their way -forward to the bow, and then around to the other -side of the ship. Slowly, with as much care as they -could muster, they dropped to their knees and -began to crawl.</p> -<p>They reached the forepeak with no trouble, -except the minor difficulties of crawling over the -mess of rope and ship’s gear scattered around the -disordered deck. As they started back, though, -two dark forms appeared in the light of the -passage!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div> -<p>“Down!” Sandy whispered, and he and Jerry -dropped flat on the deck behind the protection of -the windlass. Peering around the corner of the -huge machine, with its coil of giant anchor chain, -they watched the figures come nearer. Halfway -between them and the deckhouse, the shadows -stopped, leaning against the bulwark, and lit -cigarettes.</p> -<p>In the brief flare of the match, the boys recognized -the grim face of Turk. The other man -with him was a sailor they had seen on deck with -the rest of the crew when they had been taken -aboard the freighter. He spoke in a thin, flat, -whining voice, with a trace of a foreign accent -that might have had its origin in any country in -the world, but which by now was simply international. -The first words the boys could make -out came from Turk.</p> -<p>“This waiting is getting on my nerves,” he -rumbled. “What’s keeping us from shoving off?”</p> -<p>“It’s the big businessmen up there,” the sailor -whined, jerking his thumb toward the Captain’s -quarters. “Jones wants more for the phony dough -than he got last time, and the Skipper wants to -give him less. The Skipper says he rates a break in -the price for getting rid of those kids for Jones. -Jones says he’s taking as much risk as the Skipper.”</p> -<p>“And how about us?” Turk asked. “Ain’t we -in this as much as them? Where’s the payoff for -us?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div> -<p>“I don’t know about you,” the sailor answered. -“But the Skipper never let <i>us</i> down yet. He says -he’s gotta have better terms so’s to pay us a bonus. -And we’ll get it,” he continued, his voice taking -on a mean, determined tone. “We’ll get it, or -else!”</p> -<p>Sandy and Jerry, scarcely daring to breathe, lay -still in the shadow of the windlass, listening to -this exchange. At each word, the black freighter -seemed less and less like a place where they wanted -to stay. Something had to be done, and fast! As -each moment wore on, Jones and the Captain were -coming closer to an agreement, and when that -agreement was reached, the ship would sail. And -if it sailed with them still aboard, Sandy thought, -their chance of escape would slim down almost to -the vanishing point!</p> -<p>For a few minutes, Turk and his friend stood -silently at the rail and smoked their cigarettes. -The stillness of the scene was marked only by the -glow of coals against the black sea and sky. Then -one of the cigarettes made an arch through the -night as it was flipped over the side. The figures -straightened.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div> -<p>“I’m going back up there,” Turk announced, -“and see if I can get any better idea what’s going -on. I’ll listen at the porthole, and you stay back -on the boat deck and cover for me. If anyone -comes along, start to whistle.”</p> -<p>The two dark figures walked back to the deckhouse -and disappeared for a moment in the -shadows. A few minutes later, Sandy saw their -forms outlined briefly against the light from a -porthole on the boat deck; then they passed once -more from sight.</p> -<p>Turning to Jerry, Sandy whispered, “We’d -better get going! If they wind up that business -talk before we’re out of here, I don’t give us much -of a chance!”</p> -<p>Once more, they crept in the shadows, moving -with painful care over the tangled equipment that -seemed to cover the decks everywhere. At last, -reaching the ladder from the main deck to the -boat deck, they paused and took stock. Above -them, showing only as a dark shape against the -dark sky, loomed the bow of the nearest of the -freighter’s four lifeboats. Slowly, and with the -greatest of care, they slipped up the ladder until -Sandy’s head was at a level with the deck above. -He waited and watched to be sure the deck was -uninhabited. When he was reasonably certain, he -moved ahead, slower now than before, and slid -his body up onto the deck. Jerry followed suit, -and soon the two, pulling themselves forward on -the deck by the flats of their hands and the toes -of their sneakers, were sheltered by a life-jacket -box below the lifeboat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div> -<p>Turning over, Sandy scanned the bottom of the -lifeboat, until, with a sigh of relief, he saw what -he was hoping to see—the screw of a power boat -protruding from the stern. This was the object of -their search!</p> -<p>As he pointed excitedly to the screw, Jerry -whispered with puzzlement, “Now that we’ve -found their power gig, what are we going to do -with it? It takes four men to launch these things, -and even if we could launch it, it would make -such a noise that we’d have the whole crew on our -necks before it ever hit the water!”</p> -<p>“I didn’t figure on launching it,” Sandy said. -“What I want to do is fix it so they won’t be able -to follow us in it when we make our getaway on -the sloop!”</p> -<p>“Smart thinking!” Jerry whispered. “There’s -very little danger that they can chase us with the -freighter itself. In the first place, by the time they -could turn it around, we’d be out of sight. And -if they don’t catch up with us out here, they won’t -dare come too near the harbor. The water there -isn’t deep enough for a ship this size and it would -be too risky for them. But <i>I</i> don’t know too much -about engines. How are you going to disable this one?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div> -<p>“I know a few ways,” Sandy answered, “and I’m -going to use them all! If I just put one thing out -of order, they might fix it right away. But, with -the mess I’m going to make of that engine, it’ll -take them a half hour or better to get it going. -And by then, I hope, we’ll have sailed out of -sight!”</p> -<p>Working with the greatest of care, the boys unlaced -the canvas cover on the outboard side of the -lifeboat. Standing on the rail of the ship, Sandy -swung up and slid in beneath the cover, into a -pitch-blackness that made the night outside seem -bright in comparison.</p> -<p>As Jerry joined Sandy, his added weight made -the lifeboat lurch to one side, and brought a creak -from the davits in which the boat was hung. To -the boys under the canvas, it sounded as loud as a -scream! Motionless in the dark, they waited for -the thud of running feet, the tearing back of the -boat cover, the glare of flashlights—but none -came. The only answer to the noise was a thin, -tuneless whistle from the deck above them. It was -Turk’s fellow sailor, keeping watch for his spying -friend, and he was as afraid of passing noises as the -boys were!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div> -<p>Not daring to move, Sandy and Jerry waited -for what seemed hours until the slight swaying of -the lifeboat stopped. As cautiously as they could, -so as not to start it moving again, they changed -their positions in such a way as to balance the boat -better. At last they were stationed one on each -side of what Sandy could only hope was the engine -compartment.</p> -<p>“How can you work in the dark?” Jerry -whispered. “How will you know what’s what in -there?”</p> -<p>“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Sandy replied. -“Almost all engines have a lot in common. If I -can just get my hands on the engine, I think I’ll -know what to do.”</p> -<p>Working only by touch, it was not easy to find -out how the lid to the engine compartment was -removed. Slowly moving his hands around the -surfaces of the box, Sandy found two hook-eyes, -which he carefully unfastened. On the opposite -side of the box, he found two more, which he also -undid.</p> -<p>“We’re in luck,” he whispered to Jerry. “If -this had been a hinged top, I don’t think we could -have opened it. There isn’t enough headroom -below this canvas to raise a boxtop this size.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div> -<p>With the greatest of care, making only the -smallest of scraping noises, they removed the -heavy lid and placed it across two of the lifeboat’s -seats.</p> -<p>“I’m ready,” Sandy said. “I’m going to be -handing you some parts, Jerry. I want you to put -them in your shirt. We can’t leave them in here, -and if we threw them overboard, the splash -would surely be heard. Just be sure they don’t -clank around!”</p> -<p>Working noiselessly, Sandy ran his hands over -the engine, starting from the top of the block. He -touched and counted the spark plugs—four of -them. His own experience with assorted jalopies -would come in handy here, he thought. Carefully, -he slipped the wires off the tops of the spark -plugs. Following the wires to their source, he -came to the distributor cap. Two clips held it in -place. These were easily removed. Following the -wire that came from the center of the distributor -cap, he came to its end at the spark coil. A small -pull removed it. Then he handed the whole thing, -which felt like a mechanical octopus, to Jerry, -who slipped it into his shirt.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div> -<p>A little more probing brought out two more -parts from the distributor, both quite small. One -was the rotor, the other the condenser. “With any -one of these things gone,” Sandy whispered, “they -won’t be able to run this boat!”</p> -<p>“Great!” Jerry breathed. “Now let’s get going!”</p> -<p>“Not yet,” Sandy said. “We still have some -more to do. I don’t want to make it too easy for -them!”</p> -<p>The next thing to go was the fuel pump, as -Sandy unscrewed from it the glass bowl through -which the gasoline had to pass. This was followed -by a small collection of springs from the choke, -the accelerator and the carburetor.</p> -<p>“I think that ought to do it,” Sandy said. “Now -let’s put this engine lid back on, so they can’t tell -right away that somebody’s been in here!”</p> -<p>It took even more care to replace the lid than it -had to take it off. It was a tight fit, and really -needed a blow on the top to make it fit properly -on the casing, but this could not be done without -making far too much noise. Finally, they decided -to leave it unhooked, rather than run the risk of -giving away their presence in the lifeboat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div> -<p>Getting out and dropping soundlessly to the -deck was not easy either, especially for Jerry, with -the hardware stored in his bulging shirt front. -Sandy, who had gone first, helped him down, and -Jerry landed beside him with a muted clinking of -metal and hard plastic. The slight noise brought -no warning whistle from Turk’s lookout.</p> -<p>A glance at the deck below showed them why. -Their eyes, grown accustomed to complete darkness, -were now able to see quite clearly about the -freighter’s deck. Up forward, near where they had -hidden below the windlass, stood Jones and the -white-uniformed little Captain, together with -Turk, Bull, and several other sailors.</p> -<p>Apparently the business talk was concluded and, -much more to the boys’ concern, the freighter was -making ready to hoist anchor and set off for ports -unknown!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div> -<h2 id="c12"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWELVE</span> -<br />The Race Begins</h2> -<p>Even as they watched, a working light mounted -on the foremast suddenly flooded the foredeck -with brilliance, bringing the shadowy figures into -sharp focus, like actors on a brightly lighted stage.</p> -<p>Instinctively, Sandy and Jerry shrank back into -the shadow of the life-jacket box, until Sandy -realized that the bright light on the foredeck -would make the rest of the ship almost invisible -to people in its rays.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div> -<p>For a few seconds or more, the boys watched the -tableau below them until several of the sailors -ambled over to the windlass. Then Jerry said, -“They’re getting ready to hoist the anchor now. -We have to move fast if we’re going to get to our -boat before Jones gets to his!”</p> -<p>Still exercising the greatest care, they re-laced -the canvas where they had entered the lifeboat, -then quietly crept alongside the rails under the -lifeboats until they came to the ladder connecting -the boat deck to the afterdeck.</p> -<p>This, fortunately, was both deserted and unlighted, -the deck crew having all gone forward to -work on the windlass. The boys made their way -down to the point where they had come on board -via the rope ladder, which was still slung over the -side, waiting for Jones’s departure.</p> -<p>Looking over the bulwark, they saw the two -sloops below them, bobbing gently in the swell -that washed against the sheer side of the tall -freighter. They looked almost unbelievably peaceful, -and Sandy thought once again about Jones’s -comments about the unsuspicious looks of sailing -craft. Next to their trim, small shapes, the -freighter looked every bit as sinister as it had -actually proved to be!</p> -<p>“This is it,” Sandy whispered. “Let’s make it -fast!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div> -<p>He stepped over the bulwark and disappeared -down the rope ladder. Jerry was as close behind -him as he could get without running the risk -of stepping on Sandy’s hands. A moment more -brought them to the deck of the sloop.</p> -<p>“Now comes the hard part,” Jerry whispered. -“We’ve got to get our sails up and shove off without -anyone seeing or hearing us—and it’s not -exactly a quiet job. In fact, if I remember right, -our slides squeak pretty badly in their track. I -noticed it when we first took it out, and made a -mental note to oil the track as soon as we got some -time.”</p> -<p>“Maybe we’d better not risk it,” Sandy said. “Is -there some way we can get away from here without -having to hoist the sails right away?”</p> -<p>“Well ...” Jerry said, “if there were enough -current, we could drift off, but I don’t think there -is. Besides, it would take a long time, and I don’t -think we’ve got too much time to waste right -now.”</p> -<p>“Suppose we tow it off behind the dinghy?” -Sandy asked. “You know, the way we brought it -out of the harbor for the first day’s sail.”</p> -<p>“Good!” Jerry exclaimed. But it only took a -moment’s search to assure them that the dinghy -was not with them. “Jones must have left it tied to -his mooring,” Jerry said. “That puts us back -where we started.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div> -<p>“I guess there’s nothing to do but try it with -our sails,” Sandy said. As he started to move -forward, Jerry stopped him with a hand on his -shoulder.</p> -<p>“Wait a minute! I think I know a way to do -this! I remember I was once taught about sculling -with the rudder. You use it like an oar. I’ve never -had to try it, but this is probably the best time. -C’mon! Let’s cast off those lines!”</p> -<p>Working swiftly, Sandy cast off the bow line -while Jerry did the same with the line at the stern. -Then both of them pushed off from the side of -the freighter, and the little sloop drifted noiselessly -away from the scarred steel cliff of the huge -hull.</p> -<p>The bright light from the foredeck spilled on -the waters around the bow of the ship, and seemed -even to light up the sloop. Sandy only hoped that -whoever was standing lookout on the freighter -was within that circle of light. If he was in the -darkness of the upper decks, even the few dim -beams that reflected from the white hull of the -little sailboat would shine out like a warning -beacon against the dark waters!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div> -<p>Sandy worked his way aft over the cabin roof, -and dropped into the cockpit to join Jerry at the -tiller. Jerry was carefully working the tiller backward -and forward, making small gurgling sounds -as the rudder swept through the water.</p> -<p>“Here’s the way it works,” he said. “I’m using -the rudder like a single stern paddle. Lots of -boats in the old days used to be run like that. If -the paddle’s properly shaped, it will do a good -job of propelling a boat. They call a long stern -oar a sweep, and it’s good enough so that it’s still -used on heavy barges in lots of places around the -world.”</p> -<p>“Won’t it just push the stern around from one -side to the other?” Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“Not if you do it carefully,” Jerry replied. -“What I’m doing is this: I ease the rudder to one -side, slowly, so as not to row with it. Then I give -it a strong pull toward me—like this—and then -I shove it halfway back.”</p> -<p>As he spoke, he hauled on the rudder, and the -stern of the sloop swung around a bit, but the return -motion of the rudder stopped the swinging -action and steadied the sloop on her course. Sandy -saw small ripples form a wake behind the boat as -some forward motion was gained. As Jerry repeated -the gentling, pulling and returning of the -rudder, the sloop gained a little more forward -speed. Slowly, the rusted sides of the black -freighter slid by them.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div> -<p>“So far, so good,” Sandy said. “If we keep this -up, we’ll be able to get away before we’re spotted.”</p> -<p>“I hope so,” Jerry agreed fervently, pulling -strongly on his improvised sweep. By now the -sloop was some thirty feet or more away from the -freighter, and heading past the overhanging stern -of the big ship. Suddenly, the stillness of the night -was shattered by a roar and clank of machinery.</p> -<p>“It’s the windlass!” Jerry cried. “They’re -getting ready to haul up the anchor! Jones must -be ready to go over to his boat!”</p> -<p>Even as he spoke, a flare of work lights came up -over the freighter’s afterdeck, clearly showing -Jones and the Captain standing by the head of the -rope ladder, flanked by Turk and Bull. The -Captain and Jones were shaking hands, apparently -having concluded a deal on the counterfeit cargo -that pleased them both. Neither of them had as -yet looked over the side to see that one of the -sloops was missing.</p> -<p>“We can’t chance this any more,” Jerry said. -“We’re bound to be discovered in another minute, -when Jones starts over the ladder! Let’s get those -sails up now, and do the best we can!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div> -<p>“You’re right,” Sandy agreed, swiftly leaping -atop the cabin roof to reach the main halyards. -Taking a deep breath, he hauled. With a screech, -the slides moved stiffly up the track, and the mainsail -fluttered overhead.</p> -<p>Moving quickly, Sandy grasped the jib halyard -and hoisted it aloft while Jerry was fastening the -main halyard to its cleat. The sloop began to make -headway in the light breeze. Then, as Sandy -joined his friend in the cockpit, the sloop sailed -clear of the shadows that lay below the stern of -the freighter, and into the circle of light that surrounded -the afterdeck. At almost the same instant, -a shout rang out from above them.</p> -<p>“Look! It’s the kids!” It was Turk, who, seeing -the sail like a luminous flag in the water, had -sounded the alarm.</p> -<p>“Get down!” Sandy said, pulling Jerry to the -deck of the cockpit. His action came not a minute -too soon for a pistol shot rang out. It was followed -by a volley of shots, as more of the freighter’s crew -got into the action, but the boys were unharmed, -although two bullets had hit the cabin roof and -one had plowed a furrow in the deck.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div> -<p>The shooting stopped after a few more stray -shots were fired, the sloop having by now moved -out of effective pistol range. Making the best headway -they could in the light breeze, Sandy and -Jerry looked back with satisfaction to see the -freighter’s crew working feverishly at the davits -to get the ship’s power gig into the water.</p> -<p>“If we can just get enough lead time,” Jerry -said fervently, “we’ll make it to shore well ahead -of them!”</p> -<p>“What if Jones follows in his boat?” Sandy -asked.</p> -<p>“We’ll worry about that if he does,” Jerry -answered. “He’s a good sailor, but we have a lead -on him. It’ll be our first race, if it happens, and I -sure hope we win!”</p> -<p>By now the power gig was hanging over the -side, its davits having been swung into launching -position. The canvas cover had been removed, -and several sailors clambered in, waiting for the -boat to be lowered. With a creak of blocks and -tackle, the lifeboat was swiftly dropped to the -water. The boys could see someone bending over -the engine compartment, trying to get the boat -started.</p> -<p>“Jones’ll have a long wait, if he wants to go after -us in that!” Sandy chuckled. “That ship is so -sloppy, I’ll bet it will take them an hour just to -find the parts they need, once they discover what’s -wrong!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div> -<p>But apparently Jones wasn’t going to wait. He -had sized up the situation quickly—too quickly—and -was going over the side and down the rope -ladder to the other sloop!</p> -<p>“Oh-oh!” Jerry said. “He’s going to try to catch -us in the other sloop! And we haven’t got more -than a few hundred yards on him yet. This is going -to be some race!”</p> -<p>Some race! Sandy realized once again how different -the meaning of speed is to a sailor and to a -landsman. Here they were, in a gentle breeze on -a calm sea, preparing to race for their very lives—and -they would probably not sail faster than he -could walk!</p> -<p>Consulting the stars, Jerry set a downwind -course, and the boat headed slowly but steadily -toward the mainland.</p> -<p>“We’d do better on some other point of sail,” -Jerry said, “but there’s one consolation.”</p> -<p>“What’s that?” Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“He’s got to sail on the same course we take, so -he can’t take advantage of any more favorable wind -than the one we get. That, and the fact that the -boats are the same, at least puts us on an even -footing.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div> -<p>By now, Jones and a crew member were in the -sloop, and were getting the sails up. Sandy -watched as the mainsail caught the light from the -freighter, followed almost immediately by the jib. -The sloop swung about into the trail of light that -danced on the water between them and the big -ship, and set her sails for a downwind tack.</p> -<p>Small waves whispered softly at the bow, and -bubbles gurgled quietly in the wake. The mainsheet -hardly pulled at all in Sandy’s hand as the -sail caught all the wind there was to catch. Hardly -seeming to move at all, the sloop glided slowly -ahead in the soft night breeze.</p> -<p>And the toughest race they would ever sail was -under way!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div> -<h2 id="c13"><span class="small">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</span> -<br />A Race of Mistaken Identity</h2> -<p>“Trim your main!” Jerry said. “Haul back a -little ... more ... no, let it out a shade ... -that’s it! Cleat it down there!”</p> -<p>Sandy followed Jerry’s directions carefully, -hauling at the sheet to get the sail set to its best -position. Like the airplane wing it resembles, the -sail must be perfectly shaped to get the maximum -advantage of the wind. Sandy had learned that this -was true even on a downwind run, where a sail -let out too far will spill wind, and a sail sheeted -in too close will miss too much wind.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div> -<p>Rejoining Jerry on the cockpit seat, Sandy -looked aft to catch sight of their pursuer. He was -surprised to see the amount of water that now -separated them from the freighter, which seemed -a spot of bright light far behind them. Against -the light he could see the silhouetted shape of -Jones’s sloop. It seemed to him that they were -closer than before, and he motioned Jerry to turn -and look.</p> -<p>“You’re right,” Jerry said, guessing at the -question that had formed in Sandy’s mind. -“They’re closing in on us, all right. That Jones is -sure some sailor! We’ll have to do better than -this if we’re going to get ashore before they sail -within pistol range!”</p> -<p>“What can we do?” Sandy asked, his brow -wrinkling under the blond forelock that hung -over his eyes.</p> -<p>“The only thing we can do is put on more sail,” -Jerry answered. “That won’t be an easy job with -just the two of us. And you’ve never handled a -spinnaker.”</p> -<p>“You’d better give me some fast instruction,” -Sandy breathed. “First, what’s the spinnaker?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div> -<p>“It’s a big oversized jib, cut like a parachute,” -Jerry replied. “You saw a few out in the bay -yesterday, remember? It’s that big sail that flies -out ahead of the boat. You can only use it on -downwind sailing, unless you’re a lot better sailor -than I am, and it’s the best pulling power you can -have when the wind’s at your back.”</p> -<p>“What do I have to do to help you?” Sandy -asked.</p> -<p>“I’ll have to put it up myself,” Jerry told him. -“Your job will be to hold a steady course and to -keep the sails trimmed the way they are now.” -Sandy grinned. “I won’t look around to see how -other boats look this time,” he promised. Then he -sobered. “I’ll do my best to keep her sailing right. -What’ll you be doing?”</p> -<p>“I’ll have to drop the jib, which will lose us -some speed for a minute. Then I’ll hoist the spinnaker, -with a pole to the tack—that’s the corner—to -swing it outboard to where it will catch the -wind. Then—but we can’t waste time talking -about it! I’ll show you now and explain some -other time!”</p> -<p>Both boys took another look back, but by now -the night had swallowed up Jones’s sloop, and all -they could see was the glow of the freighter, growing -rapidly smaller and fainter behind them.</p> -<p>“I wonder if Jones has seen that?” Sandy said. -“The freighter must be under way. They haven’t -even waited for him, to see how things turn out!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div> -<p>“I’m not surprised,” Jerry said. “If Jones catches -us, they don’t have anything to worry about. And -if he doesn’t ... they want to be a long way -away from here!”</p> -<p>Turning their attention back to their own -problem, Jerry asked Sandy to go below to the -cabin’s sail locker and pull out the sail bags, but -not to light even a match. The odds were that -Jones still could not see them, and it was better -to keep it that way.</p> -<p>“How will I know which is the spinnaker?” -Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“We only have two sails below,” Jerry answered. -“We’re flying the main and genoa jib now. That -means that the only bags will have the working -jib and the spinnaker. The working jib is the -small bag, and the spinnaker will be as heavy as -the mainsail.”</p> -<p>In the cabin of the sloop it was as dark as it had -been under the cover of the lifeboat. Sandy groped -about, searching for the sail locker, which was -forward of the mast, in the peak of the boat. Finally, -after tripping a few times, and once bumping -his head badly, he felt his hands come in contact -with the brass catch that secured the locker.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div> -<p>Inside were several sail bags, most of them -empty. He came on one that contained a sail, but -it was obviously the small working jib. Worried -now, Sandy burrowed deeper into the locker, and -at last found a bag that seemed heavier than the -first. Relieved, he carried it out to the cockpit, -where Jerry was anxiously looking aft.</p> -<p>“Look! If you look just about four points off -our stern, you can see her!”</p> -<p>Sandy squinted to where Jerry had pointed, -and made out a dim white shape through the darkness, -surely no more than a few hundred yards -behind them!</p> -<p>“They’re closing in!” Jerry said. “I’d better rig -this thing as fast as I can!”</p> -<p>He took the sail bag from Sandy, and crawled -forward over the cabin. Sandy anxiously handled -the tiller, hoping that he was keeping the course. -Overhead, a few dim stars made points of light, -and he leaned back to line up the masthead with -one of them. In his right hand, the mainsheet felt -light—too light—and he worried that he had so -little control over it. What if they were to jibe -now, as they had on the first day’s sail? What if the -sails were not properly trimmed? And how could -he be sure they were? How long would it take -Jones to catch up with them? Taking his eyes for -a minute from the star and the masthead, he saw -Jerry kneeling on deck, doing something with the -sail. Then he looked back to the masthead, and -fixed all his attention on keeping the boat on a -steady course.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div> -<p>Suddenly, Jerry was back in the cockpit with -him, and the sail bag, still full, was dropped on -the deck at his feet.</p> -<p>“What’s wrong?” he asked.</p> -<p>“Sandy, was that the only heavy bag there was?” -Jerry asked.</p> -<p>“That’s right. The only other bag was so light it -must have been the jib. What’s the matter?”</p> -<p>Jerry shook his head slowly. “We’re in real -trouble now,” he answered. “That’s not a spinnaker -at all. It’s a spare genoa!”</p> -<p>“But—but I saw the bag marked spinnaker the -other day!” Sandy spluttered. “Why would Uncle -Russ put a spare genoa in a bag marked for a -spinnaker?”</p> -<p>“He wouldn’t,” Jerry answered. “And what’s -more, he didn’t. I was able to make out the letters -on the bag, and they said ‘genoa.’ Brace yourself -for a shock, buddy. I <i>know</i> we had a spinnaker -aboard. And I know we didn’t have two jennies!”</p> -<p>“Do you mean we’ve done it again?” Sandy -gasped.</p> -<p>“That’s right,” Jerry said sadly. “We goofed -again, and took Jones’s boat instead of yours!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div> -<p>There was nothing to say. They turned in -silence to look aft at the dim white shape that -followed them through the night, and that slowly -ate away at the distance that kept them apart.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div> -<h2 id="c14"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</span> -<br />Slow-Motion Chase</h2> -<p>“What can we do now?” Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“Just what we’re doing,” Jerry answered mournfully. -“Just sail the best we can and hope that -he won’t close in on us before we come across some -other boat.”</p> -<p>“Maybe Jones won’t find our spinnaker,” Sandy -suggested. “If he thinks he’s on his own boat, he -knows he hasn’t got a spinnaker below, and maybe -he won’t see any reason to go poking around in -our sail locker.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div> -<p>“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Jerry said. “We can -make a mistake like this—and make it twice—because -neither of us is really familiar with your -boat. But a good sailor like Jones knows his own -boat the way he knows his own living room. He -isn’t going to be fooled the same way we were!”</p> -<p>“Still,” Sandy reasoned, “that’s no guarantee -he’s going to go to our sail locker, is it?”</p> -<p>“It’s almost a sure bet,” Jerry replied. “He’s -probably got Turk looking around now to see -what kind of extra canvas we might have on board, -and when he finds that spinnaker, we can kiss our -chances goodbye!”</p> -<p>“Well, he hasn’t found it yet,” Sandy said stubbornly. -“And until he does, there must be something -we can do to get more speed out of this -boat!”</p> -<p>Stirring out of his gloom, Jerry trimmed the -mainsheet and then the jib. Then suddenly he -brightened. “Say! I remember reading about one -trick that might help us. It’s called wing-and-winging. -What you do is rig the jib on the opposite -side from the mainsail when you’ve got the wind -at your back. It’s supposed to act almost like a -spinnaker.”</p> -<p>“Well, let’s do it!” Sandy said. “What do you -want me to do?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> -<p>“You just hold the course, like before,” Jerry -explained. “I’ll go forward and re-rig. When I tell -you to, you uncleat the jenny sheet, and I’ll swing -the sail around on the other side and brace it out. -I’ll use the boat hook for a whisker pole to hold it -in place. Maybe this’ll turn the trick!”</p> -<p>He clambered forward, and once more Sandy -was left alone with the tiller, the star and the -masthead. For a few minutes he thought only of -holding the course, until he heard Jerry’s voice, -“Now!”</p> -<p>Leaning forward, Sandy uncleated the sheet -which held the genoa jib in trim, where it had -flown almost useless before the mainsail. He -watched eagerly as Jerry hauled the sail around to -the windward side, lashed the boat hook to the -clew and swung the big triangle outboard. Almost -instantly, the jenny started to fill, and Sandy felt -the little sloop start forward.</p> -<p>Jerry quickly leaped into the cockpit and -secured the sheet, trimming the billowing sail. -“It’s working!” he panted. “This may just turn -the trick!”</p> -<p>They listened in satisfaction to the increased -sound of the waves slipping past the sloop’s sides -and muttering in the wake. They could actually -feel the difference in the motion of the boat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div> -<p>“Jones has probably had his jib winged out all -this time,” Jerry said. “That’s why he’s been -closing in on us so fast. Maybe this will keep the -distance the way it is until we can get ashore or -get help!”</p> -<p>“I sure hope so!” Sandy agreed.</p> -<p>“Just hope he doesn’t find that spinnaker! As -long as we’re both flying the same sail area, and -as long as we’re both heading downwind, there’s -not much he can do to catch us. Running before -the wind this way, equal boats with equal canvas -flown in the same way will come out just about -the same. It’s on a reach, or beating against the -wind that expert sail handling really makes the -difference. And I’m sure glad we’re not on some -other point of sail, because Jones would outsail -us every time!”</p> -<p>With that thought to cheer them, the boys -sailed in silence. Above them, clouds occasionally -blotted out the stars of the dark moonless night, -and it was hard to set a course by any one of them. -At the helm, Jerry steered as much by the feel of -the wind on his back as by the stars he could see.</p> -<p>Behind them always, never drawing any nearer, -but never falling astern, was the white blur of -Jones’s canvas. It was as if the two boats were tied -together with a fixed length of cable or a rigid -bar that would not allow the gap between them to -change.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div> -<p>The race went slowly. It was like a chase in -some fantastic dream, Sandy thought, a dream -where he was running in slow motion, trying with -every ounce of strength to make his legs go faster.</p> -<p>But there was a difference, for here there was -no exertion, no strain, except on the nerves. Here -all was, to a casual glance, peaceful and pleasant. -If any boat were to pass, all its passengers would -see would be two pretty sloops, out for a night-time -sail.</p> -<p>Suppose another boat did come? How would -they know? Then Sandy remembered the flare -pistol. He had put it on the seat when they had -come aboard! Maybe the bulky brass gun would -come in handy again! He searched the night for -some sign of a boat’s running lights, but saw only -the same black sea and sky on all sides. Still, perhaps -nearer shore....</p> -<p>The nightmarish quality of the race increased -as each moment wore on. It seemed to Sandy that -he was doomed to sail on forever, like the legendary -Flying Dutchman, never getting to shore, -never getting within hailing distance of another -boat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div> -<p>He strained his eyes against the darkness ahead, -and then turned to look astern at the following -shape of Jones’s boat, stubbornly staying with -them at the same fixed distance. He almost wished -that Jones would in some way catch up, just to -break the tension. Maybe in a fight, there would -be a chance! At least, they wouldn’t just be sitting -and waiting.</p> -<p>As he watched, something on the pursuing -sloop seemed to change. A shimmer of white sails, -then nothing.</p> -<p>“Jerry!” Sandy whispered, gripping his friend’s -arm. “Look back there! I thought I saw something -change in his sails. I couldn’t tell for sure, but -doesn’t it seem to you that the shape is different -now?”</p> -<p>Jerry squinted back at Jones’s boat. “I think -you’re right,” he said. “It looks as if he’s changed -his sail trim some way. I wonder what he’s got up -his sleeve this time?”</p> -<p>“Do you think he’s found our spinnaker?” -Sandy asked.</p> -<p>As if in answer, the white shape behind them -altered once more. A new piece was added to it—a -long, flapping shape. As they watched, fascinated -and fearful, but unable to do a thing, the long -white triangle billowed out, changed into a full, -taut shape and lifted high above the deck of -Jones’s boat.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> -<p>“So that’s a spinnaker,” Sandy said.</p> -<p>“It sure is,” Jerry answered grimly. “Take a -good look at it, because it may turn out to be the -last one we’ll ever see!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div> -<h2 id="c15"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</span> -<br />Turn and Turn Again</h2> -<p>As Jones’s spinnaker filled and lofted, a fresh -breeze came up from astern, tugged at the rigging, -tightened the sails and sent the boys’ sloop ahead -at a sharper pace.</p> -<p>“Feel the breeze!” Sandy said. “Maybe that’ll -help us out of trouble!”</p> -<p>“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Jerry replied. “The -same breeze is helping Jones, and he’s got an awful -big sail up to catch it!”</p> -<p>“Even so, Jerry,” Sandy objected, “I seem to remember -you saying something that ought to give -us a chance now....”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> -<p>“If you do, you’d better let me know,” Jerry -said, “because I sure don’t feel very full of ideas -now.”</p> -<p>Sandy wrinkled his brow and strained at his -memory. There seemed to be some fact, some idea -half remembered from all Jerry had told him, that -ought to help. He looked astern, and the sight of -Jones’s sloop bearing down on them and swiftly -closing the gap between the two racing boats, -seemed to have just the stimulating effect he was -looking for.</p> -<p>“I know!” he almost shouted. “Didn’t you say -that we can do better on a reach than a boat with -a spinnaker can do downwind?”</p> -<p>“That’s right,” Jerry said doubtfully. “But we -have to sail a downwind course to get to shore.”</p> -<p>“Well, what’s your hurry?” Sandy asked. “Why -don’t we put off going ashore just now? I mean, if -we take off on a reach, maybe we can lose Jones in -the dark before he can change sails to follow us. If -we can just put some distance between us, we can -head back for shore later!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div> -<p>Jerry clapped Sandy on the shoulder and -shouted, “You’re right!” Then he looked back at -Jones’s boat, clear in shape, but not in detail. “I -wish I could see how he has his spinnaker sheeted, -but I can’t make it out. Still, let’s just take a -chance.” He looked at Sandy in admiration. “Boy, -you’re sure catching on fast! That was a real racing -sailor’s idea!”</p> -<p>Carefully selecting the best course to give their -boat the most speed and to lose the least time in -putting about, Jerry instructed Sandy.</p> -<p>“We’re going to jibe,” he said, “but don’t worry. -This is going to be deliberate, not accidental. It’s -the accidental jibes that wreck the rigging. We’re -going to put about this way so’s not to waste time -shifting the genoa jib to the other side. As soon -as I’ve got that whisker pole ready to come off, -we’ll do it.”</p> -<p>He went forward, and after a moment’s work, -quickly returned to the cockpit. “Ready now,” -Jerry said. “I’ll take the tiller and you take the -mainsheet. As I start to put about, you haul in on -the sheet, until the boom is right over the keel -of the boat. Then I’ll put her hard over, and you -let the sail out evenly on the other side until I say -stop. Got it?”</p> -<p>Sandy wasn’t sure, but he figured that this was -no time for more detailed instruction on the art -of the deliberate jibe. Holding the mainsheet, and -his breath, he silently hoped that he knew what -he was doing. One mistake now—the wrong kind -of jibe, that could wreck the rigging—would -surely put them back in Jones’s hands.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> -<p>He watched Jerry carefully, and, following his -instructions, started to haul in on the mainsheet. -It came very lightly and easily. Remembering the -terrific force of the jibe on the first day’s sailing, -though, Sandy knew enough not to be fooled by -appearances. He shortened the sheet so that he -would not be taken unawares when the wind -caught the mainsail on its new tack.</p> -<p>A few seconds of hauling and shortening -brought the mainsail directly over the center of -the boat, with the sheet securing it tightly against -the dangerous sudden jibe. Then, as Jerry brought -the sloop about hard on her new course, the wind -took the sail. The boat heeled far over, leaning its -lee side into the waves through which they were -cutting with a new speed.</p> -<p>Sandy held hard to the sheet, the pull of which -was almost cutting his hand. The load of wind in -the taut sail transmitted its strength to the sheet, -and became a hauling, tug-of-war enemy.</p> -<p>“Let her out!” Jerry shouted. “More! More! -Okay ... hold her there!” Sandy felt some of the -pull lessen as he allowed the sail to swing farther -out over the side. “Good,” Jerry said. “Now -take the tiller—hold everything as it is—while I -free the jenny and trim it properly.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> -<p>Sandy, the mainsheet wound tightly about his -right hand, took the tiller in his left, while Jerry -went forward to do his job. He was burning with -eagerness to look back to see how their maneuver -had affected Jones, but he didn’t dare. He had -too much to think about to take his eyes away even -for a second from his own work of sailing. This -was the first time he had handled both the tiller -and mainsheet and it was really the first time he -had actually handled the boat. There was a new -sense of command now and of real control. The -feel of the boat was complete. It almost seemed -alive. His hands told him how a change of rudder -position worked a change on the sail, or how a -shift of the mainsail, a few inches in or out, affected -the pull on the helm.</p> -<p>In a few minutes, Jerry was back in the cockpit, -trimming the genoa sheet and setting the sail -in its best shape ahead of and overlapping the -mainsail. When all was made fast, he took the -tiller from Sandy once more, and the boys were at -last free to look back.</p> -<p>What they saw was not encouraging. As they -had expected, the change of course had increased -the distance between them and Jones, but the -distance was not great enough to take them out -of sight. A few minutes of looking revealed that -they were not likely to outdistance Jones on this -tack any more than they had on the downwind -run.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div> -<p>“How come we can’t beat him?” Sandy asked. -“He surely hasn’t had time to get his spinnaker -down and his genoa up, has he?”</p> -<p>“He didn’t have to,” Jerry answered. “He’s -using his spinnaker now as if it were a genoa. It’s a -good stunt. What he did was to bring the spinnaker -pole forward and lash it to the deck, so that -it made a kind of bowsprit. Then he sheeted the -sail flat. It makes a powerful sail that way.”</p> -<p>“What if he wants to go on the opposite tack?” -Sandy asked. “How can he put about?”</p> -<p>Jerry grinned. “I think you’ve done it again, -Skipper,” he said. “That’s the best question you’ve -asked all night!”</p> -<p>“What do you mean?” Sandy asked, puzzled.</p> -<p>“I mean that he can’t put about on the other -tack without an awful lot of trouble. We can, and -we will, and with luck we’ll lose him that way!”</p> -<p>This time the maneuver was a familiar one of -bringing the sloop up into the wind, shifting the -genoa jib and coming off the wind to the new -tack. It was performed smoothly, both boys working -like an experienced crew.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div> -<p>On the new tack, they looked about once more -for Jones’s following sloop. As they had hoped, -the strange zigzag they had described had left him -far astern, but still in sight. Even as they watched, -they saw Jones drop his spinnaker and re-rig it on -the new tack. Once more, he was in pursuit!</p> -<p>“I’ve never seen anyone handle sails that well,” -Jerry said in unwilling admiration.</p> -<p>“Do you think we can outmaneuver him?” -Sandy asked.</p> -<p>“Well, we might keep up the sort of thing we’ve -been doing,” Jerry answered. “If we keep changing -tacks, we can probably keep him out of close -shooting range all night. Then, by morning, we -can hope to see some other boats and maybe get -help. There’s only one thing wrong with that -plan, though.”</p> -<p>“I know,” Sandy offered. “We’re all right as -long as we don’t make any mistakes. But the -minute we goof on one maneuver, we lose the -race! Right?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div> -<p>“Right,” Jerry said. “Still, I don’t see what else -we can do but try. We haven’t got much choice.” -As they sailed on in silence, Sandy reviewed -their situation. The trouble with their plan was -a simple one. They had to do a perfect job of sailing, -and he doubted whether they were up to it. -All Jones had to do was follow their maneuvers, -and when they made their first mistake, he would -close in. There was no hope, he could see, in waiting -for Jones to make the first mistake himself. -The man was too good for that.</p> -<p>If only they could find some new way to take the -initiative, things might work out, Sandy thought. -This cat-and-mouse game couldn’t possibly do any -good. Besides, even if they could hold out till day-light, -there was no guarantee that they would get -help from any other boat before Jones could finish -the job. After all, lack of light was all that was preventing -Jones from firing at them now. When -morning came, it would most likely be accompanied -by a hail of shots!</p> -<p>The more Sandy thought, the less it seemed that -they could find a way out of their desperate straits. -Then his gloomy thoughts were interrupted by -Jerry.</p> -<p>“Got any more ideas?” he asked. “I know it’s my -turn to think up a good one, but I can’t seem to -come up with a thing.”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy answered. “It seems to -me though, that we’re going to have to do something -really different now if we’re going to get -back to shore in one piece!”</p> -<p>Then he suddenly sat up straighter, pushing -back his blond forelock. “Jerry! I think I have an -idea!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div> -<p>“What is it?” Jerry asked eagerly.</p> -<p>“It may sound crazy, but I want to go back on -a downwind course again!”</p> -<p>Jerry looked puzzled. “A downwind course? -Sandy, we don’t have a chance that way! That’s -the way we were sailing when Jones first started -after us, and with his spinnaker in place, he’ll have -us in no time!”</p> -<p>“I know,” Sandy said, “but I have an idea that -might work this time. I want Jones to get close—real -close—to try this!”</p> -<p>Jerry shook his head. “It sounds nutty to me,” -he said, “but if you think you’ve got something -that’ll work, I’m game. Just tell me what....”</p> -<p>“Not now, Jerry,” Sandy cut him off. “Let’s just -change course while I work out the details. If we -don’t do this now, I might lose my nerve!”</p> -<p>“I’ll do it,” Jerry agreed, shaking his head -doubtfully from side to side. “But what worries -me isn’t that you might lose your nerve. I’m afraid -that you’ve already lost your mind!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div> -<h2 id="c16"><span class="small">CHAPTER SIXTEEN</span> -<br />The End of the Race</h2> -<p>It was still pitch-dark on the Pacific, miles off -Cliffport, but Sandy saw a dim, gray smear of light -in the east that told him dawn was not too far off. -Dawn—and the shots it would bring from Jones -and Turk!</p> -<p>If his plan didn’t work now, it would never -work, he knew. This was to be really a one-shot -try! But better to try, he felt, than to tack aimlessly -back and forth, waiting for Jones to close in.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div> -<p>Almost mechanically, Sandy helped Jerry put -the sloop about on her new course before the -wind. Once again the genoa jib was held out wing-and-wing -with the boat hook, and once again the -mainsheet exercised only a light pull in his hand. -With everything set, Sandy and Jerry turned their -attention to the sloop behind them.</p> -<p>The pursuing white sails shone dimly through -the darkness as Jones followed them in their -course. His spinnaker, released from its duty as a -genoa, was once more flying full and round before -him, taking advantage of every puff of wind at his -back. It was a foregone conclusion that he would -catch them now, unless they were even faster than -before in putting about on some new tack.</p> -<p>Jerry could not stand the suspense a moment -longer. “Sandy, what are you going to do?” he -cried. “Whatever it is, if we don’t do it now, -we’re goners!”</p> -<p>“Not yet,” Sandy muttered. “He’s got to get -closer!”</p> -<p>“If he gets any closer, he’s going to start shooting,” -Jerry replied. “What do we do then?”</p> -<p>“We’ve got to be ready for it,” Sandy answered. -“I expect him to shoot, and I expect him to start -pretty soon. In fact, we’d better get down as far -as possible right now!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div> -<p>Both boys sat together on the cockpit deck, Jerry -awkwardly steering and Sandy holding the mainsheet -in his left hand. “You steer, Jerry,” he said. -“I’m going to turn around so I can keep an eye -on Jones. I expect the fireworks to start any -minute now!”</p> -<p>“I can do without the entertainment,” Jerry -said. Then he added once more, “Boy, I sure hope -you know what you’re doing! If you don’t....” -His voice trailed off.</p> -<p>Half kneeling, Sandy crouched by the stern seat, -keeping as much under cover as possible. Over the -edge of the afterdeck he saw Jones’s sloop, closer -now than it had been ever since their fantastic race -had begun. For some reason, Jones was holding -back, not closing in as fast as he had been before. -Sandy knew that he must be puzzled, and trying -to figure out what their next move would be. His -success depended on outthinking them as much as -it did on outsailing them, and his skill lay largely -in his ability to guess what maneuver the boys -were going to try next. This time, Sandy thought, -he must really be baffled. No one in his right mind -would try to escape as they were doing!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div> -<p>For minutes that seemed like hours, the chase -continued with Jones making no effort to advance. -Then, Sandy realized, Jones made up his mind to -attack. His sails were trimmed fuller, his spinnaker -lofted higher, and a white bow wave broke -out to signify Jones’s new speed. There wasn’t -much time left now before things would start -popping!</p> -<p>By now, less than one hundred yards separated -the two boats. Not much more distance, Sandy -thought, than a target range. Still, it wasn’t quite -close enough....</p> -<p>A shot! As they heard the crack of the pistol, the -whine of the bullet passed overhead! Another shot—another—and -a piece of the coaming splintered -off uncomfortably close to Sandy’s ear!</p> -<p>Jones’s boat surged on, preceded by a rain of -shots. Now less than fifty yards of water were between -them! More shots followed, mostly going -through the sails. With a <i>thunk</i>, one hit the hull—another -gouged up the deck—a third hit the tiller, -not six inches from Jerry’s hand.</p> -<p>Jerry’s face looked white as he craned his neck -to look up at his friend. “Whatever you’re planning, -I wish you’d tell me now,” he said. “Because -I may not be around to see the big moment when -it comes!”</p> -<p>“You’ll be here,” Sandy said, “because the big -moment is now! Turn around with me and watch -Jones’s boat. If this works, it’s going to be something -worth watching!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div> -<p>As Jerry changed his position, he saw for the -first time that Sandy had the big brass flare gun in -his hand! He was cocking it carefully, and keeping -an eye on Jones’s sloop which seemed to be almost -ready to ram them. Lying flat on the foredeck of -the pursuing boat, they could clearly see the figure -of Turk, hurriedly reloading his pistol.</p> -<p>“You’re not going to try to shoot him with -that?” Jerry said. “Those things are way too inaccurate! -You won’t stand a chance!”</p> -<p>“Not him,” Sandy said. “It!” He steadied the -flare gun on the edge of the afterdeck and squinted -down its length, aiming at the spinnaker!</p> -<p>Seeing now what Sandy was attempting, Jerry -crouched beside him and held his breath. Sandy -waited till almost the last possible minute until, -just as Turk was raising his pistol to fire once -more, he released the flare.</p> -<p>A dazzling arc of fire leaped from the brass -muzzle straight for the bellying spinnaker! It -landed in a shower of sparks, bright enough to -show them Turk’s astonished face turned upward -to see what had hit them. The shot had hit -squarely in the center of the ballooning sail, burning -a small, red-ringed hole which slowly spread.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div> -<p>Would this be all? Just a spreading ring of coals -that would die in a minute or two? If this was all, -it was not enough! Then, just as Sandy was beginning -to fear that he had made a mistake that might -well cost them everything, the sail burst into -flame!</p> -<p>The column of fire shot straight upward into -the blackness of the night, vividly illuminating -both boats. In its brilliant light, the boys saw -Turk stand up, black against the flames, then -leap overboard.</p> -<p>“One down!” Sandy said. “But what about -Jones?”</p> -<p>As the flaming spinnaker spread its fire to the -mainsail and the mast, they saw Jones rise in the -cockpit, level his rifle and shoot. Six shots rang -out in quick succession, and all six whizzed harmlessly -by. Then Jones flung his empty gun into the -sea and turned his attention to the fire.</p> -<p>Jerry and Sandy sailed slowly away from the -flaming scene, and then started to sail in a circle -around it, still watching Jones. He had gotten a -bucket from below, and was throwing sea water, -as fast as he could scoop it up, over the burning -and the unburned parts of the sloop. The fire was -gaining though, and his efforts were obviously -doomed to failure.</p> -<p>“If he hadn’t been so busy shooting when the -fire started,” Jerry said, “he would have stood a -good chance of putting it out. The delay is going -to sink him!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div> -<p>Jones worked feverishly until the last possible -moment, until the decks and the cabin were -aflame, and the fire had spread to the little cockpit. -Finally, when it was obvious that there was no -more he could do, he kicked off his shoes and -jumped over the side.</p> -<p>“What do we do now?” Sandy asked. “We can’t -just leave them there to drown. They probably -deserve it, but I don’t think it’s up to us to judge -what kind of sentence they get.”</p> -<p>“You’re right,” Jerry agreed. “But if we take -them aboard, we won’t stand much of a chance -against them. Why don’t we try to find them and -toss them a couple of life jackets so they can stay -afloat while we make up our minds?”</p> -<p>It was no trouble to find Turk, who came -swimming up to the side to beg to be taken -aboard. Sandy kept the empty flare pistol aimed -at him while Jerry looked for the life jackets. -When he had found them, he tossed one over the -side, and Turk struggled into it. Then, still -frightened of the flare gun which he did not know -was empty, he held up his hands tamely to allow -Jerry to tie them together.</p> -<p>“Now will ya lemme come on board?” he -pleaded.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div> -<p>“I don’t think so,” Sandy answered. “I think -you’ll be safer at the end of a long line. Just relax, -and we’ll tow you back to shore!”</p> -<p>With Turk in tow, the sloop handled rather -sluggishly as the boys circled the scene of the fire -searching for Jones. The bright light of the flames -had died to a glowing, dull orange which was soon -to go out altogether as the sloop settled lower and -lower in the water.</p> -<p>“What we need is a searchlight,” Jerry said. -“We may never find him unless he swims to us the -way Turk did!”</p> -<p>“Listen!” Sandy said. “If I’m not mistaken, I -hear a searchlight coming now!”</p> -<p>Turning in the direction of the new sound of -powerful marine motors, they were met with a -bright searchlight beam, which swept from them -to the burning sloop and back again. For the first -time since their adventure had started, Sandy felt -a genuine feeling of relief, as the Coast Guard -cutter reversed its engines and came to a neat stop -alongside.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div> -<h2 id="c17"><span class="small">CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</span> -<br />Another Discovery</h2> -<p>With the arrival of the Coast Guard, the problem -of finding Jones solved itself. He quickly -realized the hopelessness of his position and swam -in from the darkness toward the cutter and the -sloop, tamely giving himself up.</p> -<p>It was only after he and Turk had both been -taken on board the Coast Guard vessel and placed -under guard that the captain of the cutter, Lieutenant -Ames, started to ask the necessary questions.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_178">178</div> -<p>He listened, absorbed in the story, until Sandy -had finished talking. Then he sighed. “That’s -quite a yarn, boys. It sounds pretty wild. For your -sakes, I hope that you can show some evidence to -back it up. Otherwise, all we have is your word. -Now, your word may be good enough for me—” -he held up a hand to forestall Sandy’s objections—“but -it’s going to take more than that to make a -charge of counterfeiting stick in a court of law.”</p> -<p>“We’ve <i>got</i> more than that!” Sandy said angrily. -“We can show you the island, and unless I miss -my guess, we’ll find Jones’s counterfeiting presses -there!”</p> -<p>“I hope so,” Lieutenant Ames said. “Meanwhile, -since you’ve made charges against these -men, I’ll hold them in custody until we get ashore. -Then I’ll turn them and the whole case over to -the FBI, where it belongs.”</p> -<p>His official statement done, Lieutenant Ames -relaxed into a boyish grin. “You can get those -scowls off your faces now,” he said. “I just wanted -you to realize that we’ve got to have good, solid -proof before this business is over with. As for me, -I believe your story, and I think the FBI will, -too.”</p> -<p>“I’m not too worried about proving our story -about Jones and Turk,” Sandy said. “But what -worries me is how we’re going to get the freighter, -now that it’s out of U.S. coastal waters.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_179">179</div> -<p>“The Navy will take care of them,” Lieutenant -Ames said. “But that reminds me, you didn’t tell -me the name of the freighter, and we’ll need to -radio that to the Navy right away.”</p> -<p>“I noticed the name on the lifeboat,” Jerry said. -“It was the <i>Mary N. Smith</i>, from Weymouth.”</p> -<p>“No!” Sandy said. “You must have gotten it -mixed up in the darkness. I saw it clear as day on -the stern. It was the <i>Martin South</i> from Yarmouth!”</p> -<p>“I’m sure I had it right,” Jerry said. “I remember -thinking to myself that it was a pretty -innocent, girlish name for such a dirty freighter!”</p> -<p>“Maybe you’re both right,” Lieutenant Ames -said. “It sounds to me as if both names have a lot -in common. They probably have a set of phony -papers under each name—and maybe under -three or four more names that sound a lot like -those. That way, all they have to do is paint out -and change a few letters after each port, instead -of having the whole job to do. It allows them to -make quick shifts of identity.”</p> -<p>“It also lets them explain that they were picked -up because of an accidental similarity of names, -in case of trouble,” Jerry put in. “I wonder what -name they’re using now,” he added.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_180">180</div> -<p>“That’s pretty easy to guess,” the Coast Guard -officer said. “If I were changing names after -leaving a port, I’d paint the bow and stern while -I was at anchor, and leave the lifeboats and other -things for when I was at sea. My guess is that -we’ll find them sailing as the <i>Martin South</i> from -Yarmouth.”</p> -<p>“Unless,” Sandy added, “unless they decided to -change it to something else while at sea, after the -trouble. After all, they have no idea whether Jones -got us or we got him, and they’ll probably be expecting -to get picked up.”</p> -<p>“Well, we won’t take any chances,” Ames said. -“I’ll radio the Navy now to be on the lookout for -any freighter with a name anything like <i>Martin -South</i> or <i>Mary N. Smith</i>. And if I know those boys, -we’ll have a report on them within the next few -hours!”</p> -<p>After giving his instructions to the radio operator, -Ames decided it was time to head for shore -and turn over Jones, Turk and the boys to the -FBI. It was decided to take the sloop in tow -behind the cutter, and Sandy went over the side -to find a towing line to hand up to the cutter’s -deck.</p> -<p>“Come on over with me,” Sandy said, “and -I’ll show you some of the bullet holes we’re carrying. -They ought to help support our story!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_181">181</div> -<p>Lieutenant Ames followed Sandy over the side -and joined him on the deck of the little sloop, -where he examined the holes in the sail and the -furrows in the deck and the coamings. “They sure -came close!” he said. “You’re pretty lucky to be -here in one piece now.” He ran his finger thoughtfully -along a deep scar in the coaming near where -Sandy’s head had been, and whistled low when he -saw the splintered spot on the tiller.</p> -<p>Lieutenant Ames followed Sandy below in -search of the spare mooring line. (The original -one had been left dangling from the deck of the -freighter.) He stood stooped over in the low cabin, -surveying the trim accommodations. At last, Sandy -found a line that would do, stowed away up -forward with the anchor.</p> -<p>Joining Ames in the cabin, he pointed to the -locker above the compact galley. “There’s where -we found the money when we went looking for the -canned food,” he said. “It was filled up all the way -to here,” he indicated, sliding back the locker -door.</p> -<p>“What do you mean, <i>was</i>?” the Coast Guard -officer asked with a gasp. The open locker door revealed -the stacked counterfeit, untouched, just as -the boys had first seen it!</p> -<p>“Whew!” Sandy sighed. “Well, I guess <i>that</i> -takes care of our case against Jones!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_182">182</div> -<p>As they towed the sloop back to Cliffport, heading -into the bright colors of a Pacific sunrise, they -pieced together what must have happened.</p> -<p>“From what we overheard on the freighter,” -Sandy said, “Jones and the freighter captain were -both dissatisfied with the original deal they had -made for the counterfeit money. Jones wanted -more for the stuff, because of the risk he had run -with us and because of the added chances he was -taking if we disappeared from Cliffport. A local -investigation of our disappearance might turn up -someone who had seen us near his island.”</p> -<p>“Right,” Jerry added. “And the Captain wanted -a larger share than usual for himself because of -the risk he was running in getting rid of us for -Jones. They bargained about it for a long time.”</p> -<p>Lieutenant Ames nodded. “And Jones wasn’t -taking any chances by bringing the money on -board until his deal had been settled. He must -have been going for it when you saw him and the -Captain shaking hands on deck. And the reason -he was so desperate when he saw you sailing off -was that he knew you were not only escaping, -but escaping with the evidence!”</p> -<p>“I guess it’s not always a bad thing,” Sandy -laughed, “to make the same mistake twice!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_183">183</div> -<h2 id="c18"><span class="small">CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</span> -<br />Homeward Bound</h2> -<p>Three days later, the case ended where it had -really begun—back in the Cliffport Boat Yard. -Only this time, Sandy and Jerry picked their way -over the timbers and rails with Lieutenant Ames -instead of with Sandy’s Uncle Russ.</p> -<p>“I guess you boys are glad this is all over,” he -said. “I suppose you’re all set for your trip home -now?”</p> -<p>“We sure are,” Jerry said. “We just need to buy -a few things, and we’re ready.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_184">184</div> -<p>“It was sure nice of the FBI to let us have -Jones’s sloop as part of the reward,” Sandy added. -“I felt pretty bad when I saw my boat on fire. I -was sure that if we ever got back to shore, we’d -be taking the train home!”</p> -<p>“There was no sense in keeping it,” Ames said. -“Not even for evidence. We had all the evidence -we needed with that bundle of counterfeit money—and -even more than that, with the printing -press and the plates we found at Jones’s little -resort. And everyone agreed that you ought to -have it.”</p> -<p>They walked along the sea wall until they -reached the corner of the shed, where Lieutenant -Ames suddenly stopped. “As long as you’re thanking -the FBI for the boat,” he said, “I think you -might as well thank the Coast Guard too!”</p> -<p>“Well, of course,” Sandy said, puzzled. “I only -meant that it was the FBI who really had title to -it, and they were the ones who decided.... I -mean, we’re grateful to you all.”</p> -<p>Ames laughed. “I don’t want to keep you in the -dark,” he said. “The FBI gave you the boat, all -right, but we decided to pitch in a little, too. -Look!”</p> -<p>They turned the corner of the boat-yard shed. -In front of them, resting in a high cradle, was the -sloop, freshly painted and gleaming in the sun, -her sides as smooth as glass.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_185">185</div> -<p>After both boys had thanked Lieutenant Ames -profusely, Jerry asked, “How did you ever get so -much done in just three days?”</p> -<p>“Oh, that’s the Coast Guard way with boats,” -Ames said and he laughed. “A whole gang of the -boys decided to go to work on her, and we did in -three days what would take most boat yards a -week or two. It started when we decided to fix up -the bullet scars, and it just didn’t stop until we -had finished the whole thing!”</p> -<p>Climbing to the deck, they inspected the newly -painted cabin and cockpit, the freshly varnished -coamings and mast, the almost invisible repairs -on the decks.</p> -<p>“We’ll have her launched within the next -hour,” Lieutenant Ames said. “Why don’t you go -into town to buy whatever you need in the meanwhile? -It shouldn’t take you too long to get stores -for a short trip.”</p> -<p>“That’s a good idea,” Sandy said. “But we’re -going to need more than the regular stores. I’m -going to spend some of that reward money right -away on a new spinnaker. That’s one thing I’ve -decided never to be without again!”</p> -<p>“Not only that,” Jerry added, “but we want to -get some more shells for the flare pistol. I don’t -think I’ll ever feel comfortable without that on -board!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_186">186</div> -<p>“There’s something else, too,” Sandy said. “I -think we ought to think up a name for this boat -right away, and pick up some brass letters for the -stern. I don’t want to keep on making mistakes!”</p> -<p>Ames joined in the laughter, then said, “That’s -one thing I think you don’t have to do. That is, -unless you don’t like the name the Coast Guard -picked out for you!”</p> -<p>Rushing to the stern, Sandy and Jerry leaned -over to see the shiny brass letters screwed to the -counter of their sloop. Looked at upside down, -they spelled:</p> -<p class="center">REWARD</p> -<div class="box"> -<h3 id="c19">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</h3> -<p class="center rubric">1. BLACK TREASURE</p> -<p>Sandy Steele and Quiz spend an action-filled summer -in the oil fields of the Southwest. In their search for oil -and uranium, they unmask a dangerous masquerader.</p> -<p class="center rubric">2. DANGER AT MORMON CROSSING</p> -<p>On a hunting trip in the Lost River section of Idaho, -Sandy and Mike ride the rapids, bag a mountain lion, -and stumble onto the answer to a hundred-year-old -mystery.</p> -<p class="center rubric">3. STORMY VOYAGE</p> -<p>Sandy and Jerry James ship as deck hands on one of -the “long boats” of the Great Lakes. They are plunged -into a series of adventures and find themselves involved -in a treacherous plot.</p> -<p class="center rubric">4. FIRE AT RED LAKE</p> -<p>Sandy and his friends pitch in to fight a forest fire in -Minnesota. Only they and Sandy’s uncle know that -there is an unexploded A-bomb in the area to add to -the danger.</p> -<p class="center rubric">5. SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA</p> -<p>A pleasant Christmas trip turns into a startling adventure. -Sandy and Jerry participate in a perilous dog-sled -race, encounter a wounded bear, and are taken as -hostages by a ruthless enemy.</p> -<p class="center rubric">6. TROUBLED WATERS</p> -<p>When Sandy and Jerry mistakenly sail off in a stranger’s -sloop instead of their own, they land in a sea of trouble. -Their attempts to outmaneuver a desperate crew are -intertwined with fascinating sailing lore.</p> -<p class="center"><b>PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER</b></p> -</div> -<h2 id="tn">Transcriber’s Note</h2><ul><li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> -<li>Silently corrected apparent typographical errors; left non-standard - spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> -<li>In the original, the last word in the text was printed upside down.</li> -</ul> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p class="pg">***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TROUBLED WATERS***</p> -<p class="pg">******* This file should be named 50353-h.htm or 50353-h.zip *******</p> -<p class="pg">This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/0/3/5/50353">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/5/50353</a></p> -<p class="pg"> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p class="pg">Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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