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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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