“Ho, dear! Private, h’is h’it? Well, h’I’ll notify the h’inspector, h’and per’aps,—mind, h’I don’t say for certain,—per’aps ’ee may see you to-morrer.”
“But we must see him to-night. It’s important, I tell you,” cried Ralph to the apathetic official, who appeared to be about to go to sleep.
The reply to this was unexpected.
“Yankees, h’ain’t yer?” asked the sergeant.
“Yes; Americans, that is. What of it?”
“Ow, nuffin. H’only you Yanks h’are h’always in such a bloomin’ ’urry.”
“Naturally we are in a hurry. We are on the trail of some malefactors. Some bad men. They are engaged in some sort of nefarious business, and we thought it our duty to notify you at once.”
“H’oh, h’is that so? W’at ’ave they been a-doin’ h’of?”
“Why, we don’t exactly know. You see——” began Ralph in explanation. But the sergeant cut him short.
“So you don’t h’even know w’at they’ve been a-doin’ h’of, hey? H’I thought there was something precious h’odd h’about this ’ole business. Look ’ere, young chaps, ’ow do you suppose we can h’arrest these men,—h’even supposin’ there h’are h’any such persons,—h’unless we know w’at they’ve been a-doin’ h’of?”
“That’s for you to find out,” cried Ralph, growing rather heated, for the sergeant’s manner implied that he did not place much credence in the boy’s story.
“Ow! For h’us to find h’out, h’is h’it?”
“Of course. We have reported them as suspicious persons. If we can see the inspector, I will give him full details.”
“You will, will yer. Well, that’s bloomin’ condescending h’of yer. The h’inspector ’as to go to a dawnce ter-night, and h’if yer wants ter see ’im, you’ll ’ave to come around to-morrer.”
“You refuse to let us see him, then?”
Ralph was red hot by this time.
“H’I do, yes. By wurtue of the h’authority in me wested. H’as h’if h’I’d disturb ’im for a bunch h’of kids!”
“You may be sorry,” warned Ralph. “In our opinion, there is some work of grave import going forward,—probably smuggling,—although of that we are not certain.”
“Oh, what’s the use of talking to him!” exclaimed Persimmons, glaring at the placid sergeant. “Thank goodness, we’re Americans and get after our law-breakers, instead of going out to pink teas when there is work to be done!”
“Yes, I guess the American police and Custom officials keep their eyes open, in which respect they offer a refreshing contrast to the Canadian authorities,” sputtered Harry Ware equally irritably.
“Oh, keep quiet, boys. What’s the use of talking!” said Ralph with a helpless look.
“H’ow, no. Talk all you want to, mates,” said the cockney sergeant. “H’it h’amuses me, don’cher know.”
“Well, what do you know about that!” gasped Harry.
“M’ dear young chaps, h’I know nothing whatever h’about h’it,” replied the sergeant.
Fairly baffled by such obtuseness, which seemed impossible to be natural and therefore only assumed to irritate, the boys left the police station.
“Well, what shall we do now?” asked Harry hopelessly. “I guess we are up a tree for fair.”
“I don’t see it in that light,” responded Ralph. “On the contrary, these obstacles make me all the more determined to nail this crowd and find out what sort of crooked work they are up to. We’ll go back to the telegraph office and find out what reply I’ve got from dad at Montreal.”
“And then?”
“Well, I’ve got a plan if you fellows will consent to it.”
“We’re in on anything you suggest, Ralph,” responded Harry, while Persimmons vigorously nodded his endorsement to that.
“Well, then, fellows, my plan is this. It’s plain there is no use wasting time on Canadian officials. Therefore we’ve got to rely on the American authorities.”
“Looks that way,” agreed the others.
“All right, then. We’ll leave here for Piquetville without saying anything to Malvin about our destination. We’ll anchor off shore there and go up to the dock in the tender. You can explain that the engines have gone wrong, Percy. Then we’ll communicate our suspicions to the authorities and bring them off to the anchored River Swallow. In that way we can nab the whole bunch.”
“Including the third man,—Hawke?” asked Harry anxiously.
“Including him, I hope. It’s my notion that Hawke has some articles of value on his person which are to be smuggled, and that Malvin took him off the island after the hut blew up for that purpose. It’s likely that Hawke was to be hidden on our island till a chance came to smuggle whatever they are transporting illegally across the border. Circumstances prevented this, and so Malvin concealed him on the River Swallow. I’ll wager that he’ll be on board to-night by the time we get down to the dock.”
Talking thus, the three lads were not long in reaching the telegraph office.
Ralph entered the place eagerly.
“Any reply to that message I sent a while ago to Montreal?” he asked anxiously.
The operator glanced up at him with an odd look.
“Why, yes,” he said, “one came a few minutes ago.”
He handed him a pink telegraph form with a recurrence of his odd look. Ralph noticed it, but it was not until he had glanced over the despatch that its significance burst upon him like a thunderclap. No wonder the operator had had a queer expression on his face! This was the message:
“Am under arrest here. Suspected of diamond smuggling. Don’t worry. It looks like a joke on the authorities.—Dad”
CHAPTER XX.
THINKING THINGS OUT.
“Gr-e-a-t jumping Je-hos-o-phat!”
The words fell from Percy Simmons’ lips as Ralph, in a low tone, read the despatch to his chums.
“Diamond smuggling! Your dad!” gasped Harry.
“It’s-it’s-well, it’s got me beaten!” choked out Ralph impotently.
“Here, give me a blank,” he demanded of the operator impatiently. The man shoved one over. Ralph seized a pencil and wrote feverishly. This was the message he wrote:
“Just got your despatch. An outrage. But many things that have occurred here appear to be connected in some way with your dilemma. We are beginning to get down to brass tacks. Wire me again as soon as possible to Dexter Island.—Ralph.”
There was a motor boat that brought despatches among the islands, charging a good stiff price for such service, but price wasn’t worrying Ralph just then.
“Send that!” he said brusquely, shoving the despatch under the inquisitive operator’s nose. “I want the reply sent to Dexter Island the instant it comes.”
“Well, of all the idiocy,” he burst out angrily, after he had perused his father’s despatch once more. “For pure, unadulterated blunderers, commend me to these Canadian authorities. It’s all clear enough to me. They have been on the trail of diamond smugglers. I guess the authorities on both sides of the line have been cooperating. In some way that we don’t know, some of the operations of the gang have been traced to Dexter Island——”
“The Artful Dodger!” exclaimed Harry.
“Yes; perhaps they suspected that boat and traced her there, or heard of her being seen in that vicinity. Then when dad left hurriedly for Montreal I suppose they leaped at the conclusion that he must be one of the gang, and at once arrested him. Can you beat it?”
“You cannot,” said Percy Simmons with deep conviction; “you can’t even tie it.”
“What is to be done now?” asked Harry, with a note of despair in his voice.
Complications were surely piling up thick and fast for the Border Boys. Even in their most exciting times on the southern frontier, they had never encountered such a tangle of inexplicable happenings as that into which they now found themselves plunged.
“We’ll stick to the program I just outlined,” said Ralph. “It’s all we can do. If the authorities are on the lookout for the diamond smugglers, and if,—as we have every reason to suspect,—Hawke and Malvin are members of the gang, their arrest will be the first step in Dad’s exoneration.”
As there was nothing to be gained by lingering in Cardinal, the little party hastened down to the River Swallow. They found the lights burning, everything ship-shape, and Malvin and Hansen standing at the gangway ready to receive them. As Harry looked at Malvin’s respectful, courteous smile of greeting, he could not help repeating to himself a line from Hamlet that he had learned in school, to the effect that a man may “smile and smile but be a villain still.”
Acting under Ralph’s instructions, not one of the boys gave the faintest sign that they suspected anything. Ralph addressed some perfunctory inquiries and orders to Malvin, and then told him that he could cast off as soon as he got the order. It came as soon as Percy Simmons hailed the young skipper through the speaking tube, and told him that everything was all right below in the engine room.
A few minutes later, the River Swallow had left the lights of Cardinal behind her and was shaping a swift, sure course for Piquetville.
“Wonder if Malvin suspects anything?” wondered Harry aloud to Ralph as he stood beside the young skipper in his accustomed place on the bridge.
“Blessed if I know,” was Ralph’s response as he twisted the wheel and made the fast craft meet a swirl of some small rapids they were passing through.
“You don’t appear to be worrying about it!”
“No, to tell you the truth, I’m not. So far as Malvin’s feelings are concerned, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“But, Ralph, hasn’t it struck you that if they suspect our intention, they are likely to try to overpower us?”
“Well, I did think of that, too.”
“If they chose, they could make it hot for us. There’s not much doubt that Hawke is on board, concealed forward somewhere, and he is probably armed. So, probably, are the other two. We haven’t any weapons of any kind.”
“And we wouldn’t use them if we had,” rejoined Ralph. “I learned out west that the man who carries the most weapons is by no means the most formidable. A man, or a boy, who carries a pistol is a coward, and more than that, he is a dangerous coward.”
“Then you have no fear of Malvin trying reprisals?”
“Not the least. In the first place, he wouldn’t dare to do anything like that. It would be simply putting his head in the halter.”
“And in the second place?” asked Harry, for Ralph had paused.
“Well, in the second place, Malvin is not that sort of a man. His pose is the meek and mild. The butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth-sir sort of an attitude. Not but what snakes in the grass like that aren’t dangerous, but they rarely, if ever, resort to personal attack unless they are mighty sure of coming out on top.”
“I hope you are right,” replied Harry, “but if it should come to a shindy, I’ve got a notion that we might come off only second best. There are three of them and——”
“Three of us,” smiled Ralph. “I’ve an idea that even without weapons we would prove a match for them. But, as I said before, Harry, there’s little fear of matters coming to that pass. Malvin & Co., in the first place, must have probably guessed that the Canadian authorities did not listen very warmly to our tale of woe. In such a belief, they probably think they are perfectly secure in anything they may do.”
“But they know that we suspect them.”
“You hit the nail on the head there,” rejoined Ralph rather seriously. “That’s the worst part of the situation. If Malvin hadn’t overheard us and found out that we were on to his little game, it would have been as easy as rolling off a log to nab the whole boiling, or at least this particular part of it.”
“You think there are more in the game, then? The same thing has occurred to me.”
“I’m sure that there must be more in it. The outfit on board that Artful Dodger, for instance. Those fellows must have been students of Dickens to have thought that name out, but it’s a good one, all right.”
“Yes, it sure fits that fly-by-night craft to a T,” agreed Harry.
“I wonder if we’ll ever see her again,” mused Ralph, as the River Swallow drove onward through the night.
In the distance the lights of Piquetville began to bob up. They were not far from their destination.
“I don’t know,” rejoined Harry, “somehow I’ve got a notion that we shall encounter her again, somewhere and sometime.”
“I have the same idea,” agreed Ralph.
Both boys were right. They were fated to see the night-loving craft of the St. Lawrence again, and that before very long. Their next meeting with her was destined to be under circumstances which were to be indelibly imprinted upon their minds.
CHAPTER XXI.
A BIG SURPRISE.
“What dock are you going to make for?” asked Harry, as they drew nearer and nearer to the American side of the river.
“I guess the Piquetville Yacht Club’s dock will be just about right,” was Ralph’s rejoinder. “There’s deep water off there, you know, and we can anchor and go ashore,—that is, you fellows can go ashore.”
“Aren’t you going?” demanded Harry in surprise.
“No. It is necessary for me to remain on board the River Swallow and see that the rascals don’t attempt any monkey tricks while you are gone.”
“But it may be dangerous,” protested Harry.
“Pshaw! There’s not much danger to fear from a rat like Malvin.”
“But Hawke?”
“Depend upon it, he has good reasons for not wanting to be seen. I don’t apprehend any trouble with him. Now go below and tell Percy what we’ve decided on.”
Harry would have liked to add more protests about leaving their young leader alone on the River Swallow with the men, who, as they all knew, had deep cause to hate the railroad man’s son. But there was no choice in the matter for him, for, as they all knew, when Ralph’s mind was made up to anything, he could not be swerved from his determination.
In due time the River Swallow lay to off the lights of the Piquetville Yacht Club. The place was brightly illuminated and so was the town that lay behind it. Piquetville was a bustling, busy place. It maintained plenty of business and was very up-to-date in every way.
Down rattled the anchor.
“I wonder what Malvin thinks is in the wind,” said Harry, as he slipped into a shore-going coat and Percy appeared on deck by his side all ready to board the tender as soon as it should be lowered.
“You can depend upon it that he is sharp enough to know that something is up, but you can also bet that he will be too sharp to show it,” was Ralph’s rejoinder.
“Lower away the tender!” he hailed as Malvin reported the anchor down.
“Aye, aye, sir,” came in cheerful, willing tones.
If they had not known Malvin to be such a rascal, they would have found it hard to believe that the owner of such a cheerful voice could be the schemer they knew him to be, and the criminal that they suspected more than strongly he was.
“Good-bye.”
“Take care of yourself.”
These were the leave takings between the boys accompanied by a warm pressure of hands that meant more than words. A few moments later the tender was chugging off ashore and Ralph was left alone on board the River Swallow. He would have given a good deal to know what Malvin thought of the night’s proceedings. He knew the fellow was far too shrewd not to guess that something was about due to break. But if Malvin really had such ideas, he kept them to himself with admirable coolness.
After the tender had departed, he came aft to where Ralph was sitting in a deck chair and inquired if there was anything more to be done.
“No; if all is snug, you may take a nap, Malvin, or amuse yourself as you see fit.”
“Thank you, sir. I reckon I’ll turn in and get forty winks, sir,” rejoined Malvin.
He touched his cap and hurried off forward.
“Now who would suspect that that man is the central figure in a big smuggling scheme of some sort?” thought Ralph as the man departed. “He is certainly an admirable actor.”
Ralph leaned back in his chair and watched the twinkling lights ashore. It was a beautiful night, calm, peaceful and starlit. The water shimmered like a sheet of silver. Hardly a ripple disturbed the mirror-like surface of the St. Lawrence, which, at this point, was fully two and a half miles wide, a mighty lake of swift flowing water.
It was delightful to be seated there in the River Swallow’s comfortable cockpit. But somehow Ralph did not think much of the scene about him. His mind was busy with the dilemma of which his father’s despatch had informed him.
What an odd turn of fate it seemed, that, while he and his chums were on the trail of a gang of miscreants who had been using Dexter Island as a rendezvous, his father should be arrested in Montreal for the very crime which they were trying to lay at the door of Malvin and Co.!
“I wonder how long this sort of thing has been going on,” mused Ralph; “probably for some time, perhaps ever since Malvin, two years ago, entered my father’s service. I remember Dad congratulated himself on obtaining a man of such education and refinement to handle the River Swallow. He was rather astonished, too, that a fellow who was so intelligent and apparently well educated should be willing to take such a post. It’s all clear enough now.
“The job Dad gave him afforded Malvin just the opportunity he wanted to carry on his smuggling schemes without being suspected of a connection with any such dealings. No wonder he had it in for us when we came and deposed him from his position of boss of the River Swallow! It meant that he could no longer have things all his own way. That henceforth he would be liable to be watched, and that the visits of the Artful Dodger to Dexter Island would be likely to be observed and suspicion aroused.”
He had been watching the lights of the tender as the speedy little craft sped toward the shore. Now he saw them pause alongside the yacht club dock and come to a standstill.
“The boys have got ashore,” he thought, “in a few minutes they will be in consultation with the customs authorities. Then we shall see what the next step in this little drama is going to be. I rather think that, by this time to-morrow, Messrs. Malvin and Co. will have seen a great light.”
In the meantime, Harry Ware and Percy Simmons had made their boat fast and clambered up on the dock.
A man in a uniform that they recognized as that of a U. S. Customs Inspector stepped up to them the instant they set foot on shore.
“Off the River Swallow?” he asked.
“Yes,” rejoined Percy, “we——”
“That is all, be good enough to come with me.”
“Why—what——” began the boys, but the official sternly cut them off.
“No questions now, the chief inspector wants to see you at once. I guess, too, I’ll be sending somebody out to watch the River Swallow.”
“What have we done? What’s the matter?” demanded Harry.
“Never mind. You’ll know soon enough,” was the brusque reply, as the official bade them come with him and “make no trouble.”
CHAPTER XXII.
“NOT JUST YET, STETSON!”
Ralph was interrupted in his reverie by the sound of a swift, cat-like footfall behind him. He was conscious of a sudden thrill that was not exactly fear but rather apprehension, as whoever was pussy-footing through the dark cock-pit drew closer.
No man on an honest errand, as he well knew, would have adopted that stealthy method of approach. For an instant Ralph regretted that he was not armed. But it was only a momentary thought.
He turned his eyes, till out of their corners he could see a dark form drawing close to his chair.
Ralph gave no sign that he had heard anything unusual. He kept his gaze apparently riveted on the shore and sat motionless, without the quiver of a muscle. But for all his seeming calmness, he sensed that a crisis of some kind had arrived.
Then out of the darkness emerged the figure of Malvin. The man was a very different being from the obsequious creature he had hitherto appeared to be. His voice rang harsh and stridently and in his hand Ralph could catch the glint of a pistol.
The weapon was aimed at the boy’s head.
“See here, Stetson,” the fellow grated, “you’re alone on this boat and in my power. Are you going to do what I say without making trouble?”
Ralph did not turn. There was not the flicker of an eyelid to show the great bound his heart had given as he realized his situation. That Malvin was a desperate man, the boy knew well enough; but just the same, he had not believed that the man would ever dream of adopting the tactics he had now assumed.
“Well?”
Malvin’s grating voice, a very different one from the honeyed accents he had hitherto used to address the young commander, came again in tones of impatient interrogation.
“Supposing, as commander of this boat, I don’t choose to take orders from you?” questioned Ralph.
“In that case, jig is up for you, young fellow.”
“Going to kill me?” asked Ralph without a quiver in his voice, although a very unpleasant feeling had taken possession of him.
He felt that Malvin meant what he said. And he was in the fellow’s power absolutely.
“Yes,” spoke Malvin. “I mean to use this little piece of hardware unless——”
He paused as if uncertain of his next words.
“He’s nervous,” thought Ralph, “he doesn’t like this job. He’s doing it at the orders of somebody else, probably Hawke, who appears to exercise an influence over him.”
“Well, unless?” asked the boy aloud.
“Unless you obey orders absolutely. Just as I have had to obey your orders since you sneaked your way into command of this craft.”
“You forget that this is my father’s boat,” reminded Ralph.
“Yes, your father,” sneered Malvin. “Your father, who is in jail in Montreal!”
“So you know that?” cried Ralph, startled out of his assumed calm.
“Know it? Why, yes. Men with whom I am associated engineered his arrest. Cleverly done, wasn’t it?”
“You contemptible sneak!” burst out Ralph. “So it was your gang that did this?”
“I don’t see any reason to deny it. We wanted him out of the way and sent that message summoning him to Montreal. Once there, our agents saw to it that he was put where he wouldn’t trouble us for a while.”
Words failed Ralph utterly. He saw red for a minute. But almost simultaneously he steadied his nerves to meet the crisis.
“I may as well tell you, Malvin,” he said, “that it will pay you better in the long run to desert these men with whom you are associated and array yourself upon the side of law and order. Do this and I’ll promise you that, when the authorities descend upon you, I will do what I can to make things easier for you.”
It was a forlorn hope and—it failed.
Malvin hesitated for one instant, and Ralph’s mind swung pendulum-wise between hope and apprehension. But the man’s next words showed him that Malvin was irrevocably tied to the diamond smugglers.
“As if I’d be fool enough to listen to such stuff!” he sneered. “Come now, youngster; no more nonsense. We know what your two chums went ashore for. To get the authorities, didn’t they?”
“Since you must have it, they did,” shot out Ralph.
“I thought so. We know every move you have made. Now you’re going to learn that it doesn’t pay to butt in where you are not wanted.”
“What are you going to do?” demanded Ralph.
“Get right out of here with this boat. You’ll work her out. Do you understand?”
“Your words don’t admit of any misconstruction,” was the calm reply.
“Mosey up on the bridge, then. Look sharp! Do you hear?”
“I hear. Suppose I don’t choose to obey?”
“In that case——”
Malvin emphasized this with a poke in the ribs from the revolver.
“See here, Malvin,” asked Ralph, eying the fellow without flinching, “have you been drinking to-night, or are you simply ill-advised by bad companions?”
“No more trifling,” warned Malvin sullenly. “You’ve robbed me of my job as commander of this boat. Not content with that, you’ve tried to interfere with my business. Do what I say at once, or let me give you a straight warning. You’re playing with your life.”
Ralph tried another tack.
“Well,” he said, “of course I don’t want to get shot. Let’s get down to cases. What do you want me to do?”
“Navigate this boat out of here. Hansen and—and—somebody else will attend to the engines.”
“The somebody else being the man who put the sand in our carburetors—Hawke.”
Malvin was perceptibly startled.
“Hawke! What do you know about him?” he demanded.
“Oh, quite a good deal. You’re a fool to travel with such a man, Malvin. We met him on Windmill Island. We know that you picked him up there and have kept him concealed on the River Swallow. I more than suspect, moreover, that he is a certain notorious diamond smuggler for whom the authorities on both sides of the border have their nets spread. Is that enough?”
“Yes, it’s more than enough. You’re too flip. Now get up on that bridge or take the consequences.”
“All right. Tell your men to get the anchor up.”
Malvin uttered a peculiar whistle. It must have been a signal, for the clank of the windlass was heard almost immediately. The River Swallow began to swing her bow as the current turned her down river.
Again came a whistle from Malvin and the engines began to rumble and shake the craft with their revolutions. They were running “free.” That is, the clutch that caused them to engage the shafts had not yet been “thrown.”
Ralph had a plan in his mind. It was a desperate chance to take, but his seemingly ready agreement with Malvin’s orders had proceeded from this same wild plan he had suddenly formed.
“Get up on that bridge. Remember, I’m behind you. One false move and——”
Malvin did not finish the sentence. He did not need to. His tone was sufficiently eloquent.
The boy ascended the few steps that led to the bridge. Malvin was right behind him. Ralph could see in his mind’s eye that menacing pistol held close to the small of his back.
They reached the bridge. The moment for Ralph’s plan to be put into execution had arrived.
He turned swiftly.
“Look!” he cried. “There comes a boat—a customs house boat!”
Malvin, startled, off his guard, turned his head for an instant toward the shore.
With a loud cry, Ralph leaped for the man. He seized his pistol wrist and wrenched it backward. Then he threw himself on the fellow with the whole force of his vigorous young strength.
As Malvin crashed backward down the steps, Ralph leaped for the pneumatic whistle. It was operated by a lever.
“Now for a police call!” he exclaimed pantingly as he grasped it. In another moment a cry for aid would have gone shrieking out from the River Swallow’s siren.
Ralph’s fingers trembled on the lever and he had just given it the first move toward him when something happened.
He felt himself seized from behind in a powerful grasp and his arms pinioned to his side.
“Thought you’d get the police, eh?” snarled a voice in his ear. “Not just yet, Stetson.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MISSING BOAT.
“So these boys are off the River Swallow?” asked Chief Inspector Barrett of the U. S. Customs service as he gazed at Harry Ware and Percy Simmons.
They stood before him in his private office, whither they had been escorted by the official who had met them on the wharf. Both boys were indignant. The manner in which they had been treated had not served to soothe their feelings. They had, in fact, been looked upon as malefactors, when, in reality, they had come ashore for the purpose of exposing a gang of rascals. It was a strange trick that Fate had played upon them.
“What have we done?” demanded Harry Ware angrily.
“Yes, you’d think we were criminals from the way we’ve been treated,” seconded Percy Simmons.
“Now, now, keep cool,” conciliated the inspector. “We’ve had our eye on the River Swallow for some time. To-night we heard from Canada that she was to touch in here to-night with gem smugglers on board. We’ve been on the lookout for the gang that is suspected for some time.”
“And you mean to say you think that we have anything to do with it?” gasped Harry angrily.
“I didn’t say so. But I’d like you to explain a few things.”
“Very well. But please hurry. We have left a friend on board the River Swallow with three desperate men. We want to hurry back. We had counted on your assistance.”
“Well and good, and you shall have it. I think it only fair to inform you that Dexter Island has been shadowed for some time. A motor craft has been seen visiting there at night. We suspect the boat to be one used by the diamond smugglers. The River Swallow has been used to convey the gems to this side. Doubtless you young men are not aware of the extensive range of gem smuggling operations on the Canadian border. In that case, let me inform you that the duty on cut gems brought into America is sixty per cent. ad valorem. You can see, therefore, what a fortune these gem smugglers can make by evading the lawful duty.”
“And in the meantime,” said Harry sarcastically, “the men you want,—or at least a part of the gang,—are on board the River Swallow.”
“What’s that? What do you mean?” demanded the inspector quickly.
“I’d have explained sooner, if you’d let me,” said Harry dryly.
He proceeded at the inspector’s direction to give him a hasty sketch of the events that had led up to the present night. The inspector listened with interest at first and then with absorption.
“Give me a description of this man Hawke,” he said.
Harry described the man as well as he could.
“Jennings,” exclaimed the chief inspector, “this Hawke is La Rue, the head and front with Rawson of the whole gem smuggling gang! I’m sure of it from the description. You will accompany these young men to their boat. Take Adams and Prescott with you. Arrest all three of the men. So far, I know nothing of Malvin or Hansen; I suspect they are mere understrappers. Bring them here at once. Hurry now.”
“Yes, sir. Come along, young men,” said Jennings, preparing briskly to execute his chief’s orders.
“And Jennings.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You had better be armed. Tell the other men to take weapons, too. La Rue is a desperate man and the others may give you trouble, also.”
Jennings and the two boys hurried off. Harry Ware and Percy Simmons were delighted at the turn affairs had taken. The arrest of Hawke,—or to give him his real name, La Rue,—was at hand. Before long, by their instrumentality, the gem smugglers would be safely in the hands of the customs officials.
Only one doubt assailed them as Jennings hastily summoned his two aides. Would they be in time? The knowledge that Ralph had been left alone on the River Swallow, without weapons to defend himself, and in the company of three men who had good reason to fear the worst from the boys’ visit ashore, had a disquieting effect upon them.
As they hurried through the streets, they wished that Jennings would make even more haste.
When they reached the main custom house, where Adams and Prescott, who were on night duty, were to be picked up, a low, rumbling sound came from the northern sky.
Jennings glanced up quickly. To the north the stars had been blotted out. Heavy clouds had rolled up obscuring them. As the boys followed the direction of Jennings’s gaze, they saw a sudden lambent flash, as yet far off, flare up and vanish on the cloud bank.
“Lightning!” exclaimed Harry.
“Yes, we’re in for a storm, I guess,” said Jennings. “We get them pretty bad up this way when they do come, too.”
“Regular hummers, eh?” asked Harry.
“I guess that’s the word for it. The old timers say that they follow the river. I don’t know how that may be, but I do know that I never saw worse electric storms than we get right along the St. Lawrence.”
Adams and Prescott, who had received directions by telephone from the inspector’s office, were ready and waiting for them when they arrived at the custom house. They were placed in possession of the facts of the case by Jennings, as they and the boys hastened to the yacht club dock.
Both were warm in their praises of the way the boys had handled the situation, and waxed humorous over their practical arrest as suspects. Percy and Harry, however, failed to see anything screamingly comical about it.
The dock was reached and then and there the party received a big surprise.
The lights of the River Swallow were not in sight!
So far as could be observed, no boat lay at anchor where the boys had left the speedy craft.
A search conducted from the motor tender only confirmed their worst fears. The River Swallow had vanished, and on board her was Ralph, alone and in the power of the gem smugglers.
CHAPTER XXIV.
IN THE GRIP OF THE STORM.
Ziz-z-z-z-z-z!
A ragged, flaming bolt of lightning ripped across the black sky. It showed the broad reach of the St. Lawrence in the vicinity of Piquetville lashed into a fury of white-capped waves and turbulent waters.
Through the furious electric storm the River Swallow was wallowing along, rolling and plunging terrifically. Owing to her narrow beam, the craft was far more “cranky” than an ordinary boat, and to anyone not used to her actions in rough water, the experience would have been an alarming one. Besides being familiar with the craft he was guiding, however, Ralph had other things to worry him beside the storm.
For one thing, La Rue,—or Hawke, as Ralph still knew him,—was standing beside him, pistol in hand, and from what Ralph knew of the man, there was little doubt that he would hesitate to use the weapon if the need arose. The boy had another cause for worry in the fact that he did not know what his companions, who had gone ashore, would think of the disappearance of the River Swallow. He knew that they would be worrying over his situation on board her, and the thought of their anxiety disquieted him to the full as much as his own predicament.
But, with it all, Ralph had a certain grim satisfaction in one factor of his problem. Below decks in a bunk, with a badly damaged head, incurred in his fall down the steps leading from the bridge, lay Malvin. The man was incapacitated for duty and was, in fact, only half conscious. As he had fallen from the bridge, it was La Rue who had seized Ralph’s arms before the boy could sound the alarm, and who had ordered Ralph, upon the pain of being shot down, to steer the River Swallow out of the harbor. The young skipper had no recourse but to obey, and so the River Swallow was struggling with the storm, with an inexperienced man—Hansen—in the engine room and on the bridge a boy who was menaced with a pistol in the hands of the diamond smuggler.
With the storm had arisen a wind that screeched and howled like a witches’ carnival about the River Swallow. The craft was rather high out of the water and of light draught, like most of the St. Lawrence River craft. She pitched and rolled awesomely under the blast. There was no real danger, as Ralph well knew, but, as has been said, to anyone unused to her violent motions in a storm, the wild behavior of the River Swallow was, to say the least, alarming.
To complicate matters, it was pitchy dark, the frequent flashes of lightning alone illumining the gloom. The wind was blowing the same way as the current, and below them lay a labyrinth of rapids, shoals and islands that required an experienced skipper to thread, even by daylight.