CHAPTER XXXI.
IN WHICH LARRY ACTS QUICKLY.
The men went on deck, leaving the cabin deserted. Before departing, Larry, through a crack of the door, saw Captain Naxon put away a number of papers in a locker at one side of the cabin.
As soon as he felt safe to do so, our hero stole into the cabin, opened the locker and taking the papers, thrust them into the inner pocket of his coat.
He was not certain, but he felt that the papers concerned himself and his father.
As the rascals gained the deck, the young fireman heard Captain Naxon order the rowboat brought around.
“Going ashore?” asked a strange voice.
“Yes.”
“What of the prisoner?”
“Leave him in the hold until I get back,” answered Captain Naxon.
At this Larry smiled grimly.
“I don’t think you’ll find me in the hold—even if you do ever get back,” he said to himself.
Creeping to the level of the deck, Larry saw all hands at the side of the schooner, watching the departure of the captain and the others in the small boat.
The weather was clearing a little, and at a considerable distance could be seen the twinkling light of Perth and South Amboy.
“If I was only on land,” he mused. “How can I get there?”
With the slyness of a cat he crept to the stern of the schooner. There in the water rested a small rowboat, with oars stowed under the seats, for the captain and the others were using a boat belonging to Conroy.
With his heart thumping wildly, our hero let himself down into the rowboat. At a distance he could hear Conroy rowing, but the darkness hid the other small craft from view.
It was but the work of a moment for our hero to unfasten the rowboat and push as far as possible away from the Skylark.
Then he got out the oars and began to row with all the skill he could command, which was saying a good deal, for Larry had frequently been out on the river at Ferryville.
He took care to keep away from the other boat, but made out where his enemies landed, by their voices. It was at the old boathouse where he had been made a prisoner by Conroy and Martin Pollox.
He himself landed some distance away and then followed the four like a grim shadow.
He soon learned that Martin Pollox and Sluggers were going back to New York, the former to get the cash promised to Captain Naxon and Conroy.
The captain and the oyster pirate were bound for the cottage in which the latter lived, down near the railroad bridge.
“So far so good,” thought our hero. “Now to examine those papers I took, and then to get the police to help me.”
He walked up into the town and by the aid of a street lamp began to look over the documents taken from the locker.
They proved to be some communications from Martin Pollox to the captain concerning the carrying off of Walter Barlow. Pollox had signed only his initials, but his handwriting was not disguised in the least.
By these letters Larry made out that his father had been taken to Ponce on the Island of Porto Rico, and was now at a private asylum for the insane somewhere in the interior of the island. Nothing was paid for keeping him, as he was made to work out his board on a plantation connected with the asylum.
“He can’t be insane!” muttered Larry. “It is a trick—a base trick to keep him from returning to New York!”
“Hey, young fellow, you’re out kind of late, ain’t you?”
The voice was close to Larry, and turning he saw a policeman at his elbow.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, “and I’m glad you came up. Where can I find the police headquarters?”
“Why, anything wrong?”
“Yes, something is very much wrong. I want two men arrested without delay.”
“What for?”
“For several crimes, including carrying me off to a ship against my will.”
“Tried to shanghai you, did they?”
“Yes.”
The policeman quickly directed Larry to the headquarters, and here two policemen were called into service, and the whole party set out for Conroy’s cottage.
“Conroy’s a bad egg,” said one of the officers, as the party trudged along in the wind and scattering rain. “He ought to have been arrested on general principles long ago.”
“If they are doing any talking I would like to hear what is said before we break in on them,” said Larry.
“All right.”
Soon the vicinity of the cottage was gained. A bright light burned in the kitchen. They drew closer and discovered Conroy and Captain Naxon sitting at the table, smoking, drinking and looking over some papers Conroy had produced from a trunk.
“You ought to have stood out for more money, Jack,” the captain was saying. “Pollox can pay it easily enough. You have a good grip on him.”
“I’ll get more out of him later on,” answered Conroy. “I ain’t like you, I’m going to remain on shore.”
“I half wish I could remain behind,” said the captain, with a nod. “I’d squeeze him, too. Why, he must have made a lot of money by getting Walter Barlow out of the way.”
“He claims he hasn’t done nothing with that invention yet,” answered Conroy. “He said the boy’s turning up knocked his plans all out.”
“Well, we’ve got the boy out of the way now.”
“Where are you going to take him?”
“Down to South America.”
“And after you get him there, what then?”
“Oh, I reckon he’ll fall overboard some dark night,” and the captain of the Skylark laughed harshly.
Larry nudged one of the policemen.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered. “They are talking about me and my father.”
“They are rascals, and no mistake,” was the guarded reply.
“You’ll have to be slick about it,” went on Conroy.
“I’ll manage it.”
“Why didn’t you pitch old Barlow overboard?”
“Pollox didn’t want it. He was afraid he would want Barlow to tell him something about the inventions, and the man couldn’t do that if he was dead.”
“Don’t Barlow ever kick?”
“I suppose so. I haven’t seen him in over a year now.”
The captain yawned, and changed the subject.
“Now, I guess we had better arrest them,” said Larry. “But be careful they don’t get away. They’ll fight hard when they find themselves cornered.”
Our hero had provided himself with a good club, and now, as the policemen threw open the door of the cottage and entered, he followed.
“Hi, what’s up?” cried Conroy.
“We arrest you, in the name of the law,” answered one of the bluecoats.
“Betrayed!” roared Captain Naxon. “Betrayed! Whose work is this?”
“It is my work,” answered Larry, striding forward. “Officer, you had better handcuff them both.”
“I will.”
“Not much!” answered the captain, and made a dash for the doorway. But he had scarcely taken three steps when Larry brought the club down on his head, knocking him senseless.
In a few seconds more Conroy was handcuffed. He swore like a pirate and gnashed his teeth in rage. When the captain recovered, he, too, was made a close prisoner.
Both prisoners wanted to know what Larry intended to do, but our hero would give them no satisfaction. He ordered that the documents Conroy had brought forth be taken to the station house as additional evidence against the rascals.
Early in the morning Larry left for New York, one of the Perth Amboy officers going with him.
“Now for Martin Pollox and Check Sluggers,” he said, grimly. “And then we’ll soon sift father’s affairs and Mary Vern’s affairs to the bottom.”