“Look!” cried Andy, pointing to the dust covered floor. “The mark of the arrow!”
There, plainly to be seen in the particles of dirt were the footsteps of the mysterious man who had escaped the police in the motor boat chase. The marks were all over, showing that the one who made them had tramped about the room making his arrangements to rob the department store.
“There was some one with him,” the chief said.
“How can you tell?” asked Ned.
For answer the police official pointed to another series of footprints in the dust. They were smaller than those with the arrow mark, and bore no distinguishing imprint.
The board, a plank about ten feet long, had been dragged from a store room as the marks in the dust showed. It had been drawn back only part way, probably because the thieves had been in too much of a hurry to leave after securing their booty.
Following the chief the boys descended the stairs from the lodge room. The recent developments put a new light on the matter, though the boys did not see how they could lead to the detection of the thieves.
“I must have a talk with some of the tenants of this place,” the chief remarked.
They had reached the street by this time, and the boys were about to leave. At that instant, Mr. Nixon, Noddy’s father came running up to the head of the police force.
“I want your help!” Mr. Nixon exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” asked the chief.
“Noddy has been kidnapped!”
“Kidnapped?” the chief exclaimed.
“Yes! Look here!” spoke Mr. Nixon, his hands trembling with excitement as he extended a piece of paper to the chief. “Noddy did not come home all night. This morning I found this in his room. It is terrible. You must help me find him.”
The chief read aloud what was written on the paper:
“We have taken your son away. If you want his return say nothing but leave $1,000 under the old oak tree on the river bank Friday night.
“The River Pirates.”
“What do you think of that?” asked Mr. Nixon, who was much excited.
“Um,” spoke the chief non-committally. “It’s certainly very strange, Mr. Nixon. Noddy is rather a large size to kidnap, but then you can’t tell about criminals now. If you’ll leave this with me I’ll put some of my men right to work on it. I’ve got my own hands full with this robbery.”
“Cresville certainly is coming into public notice,” remarked Jerry in a low tone to Bob. “First it’s a robbery, then Noddy Nixon disappears.”
“Kidnapped you mean,” interposed Bob.
“No, I don’t,” said Jerry. “Noddy is no more stolen away than I am.”
By this time the chief had walked off down the street and Mr. Nixon went with him. The boys remained together.
“But what in the world—” began Bob, when Jerry stopped him with a wink, and made a slight motion of his head toward Andy. He need have no concern about Andy, as it developed, for that youth, all afire to continue his detective work, made a hasty excuse to the motor boys and hurried off down the street after the chief.
“What’s that you and Chunky were saying about Noddy?” asked Ned, who had not been listening very closely to what his friends were talking about.
“Jerry says Noddy was never kidnapped,” spoke Bob.
“I don’t believe he was,” put in Jerry. “I happened to get a glimpse of the note Mr. Nixon had. It was partly printed and partly written, but I’m a Dutchman if some of the handwriting wasn’t Noddy’s.”
“How do you happen to be so familiar with his handwriting?” asked Ned.
“I have a couple of specimens,” replied Jerry. He drew from his pocket some slips of paper. “One is that letter he wrote to us some time ago,” said Jerry, “when he accused us of being responsible for his running away from home the time he rode off in his father’s auto. The other is that bill he gave us for the fifteen dollars damage to the rowboat. I picked it up after Ned threw it at Noddy that Sunday.”
“And you think the writing in the kidnapping note is like some of this?” asked Ned.
“I’m sure of it,” went on Jerry. “Besides, who would kidnap Noddy? It’s true, his father is wealthy, and able to pay a ransom, but don’t you suppose Noddy would raise a cry if some one tried to walk off with him?”
“Maybe he did, but he might have been all alone, and no one heard him,” suggested Bob.
“Noddy doesn’t go out very much alone,” said Jerry. “He has Bill Berry or some other crony of his with him. Of course I’m only guessing at it, but I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find out that Noddy’s disappearance had some connection with this robbery.”
“You don’t mean to say you think Noddy robbed my father’s store?” asked Ned.
“Oh no, not quite that,” said Jerry.
“What then?”
“Well, I think Noddy has gotten in with a bad gang. Some of them may have done this robbery, and in order to get him out of the way, for fear he might disclose something, they have arranged this kidnapping hoax. He may be a sort of captive, but he is among friends, I’m sure of that.”
“Why don’t you tell Chief Dalton this?” asked Bob.
“And get laughed at for my pains,” said Jerry. “I guess not. The chief has his hands full. Perhaps he doesn’t believe Noddy is kidnapped, but he will not say so. Mr. Nixon is one of the biggest men in town, and the chief wants to please him. So he’ll naturally fall in with Mr. Nixon’s notions, and try to pretend he believes Noddy is a captive.”
“Then what are we to do?” asked Chunky, to whom the events of the last few hours came in bewildering rapidity.
“I think the best thing for us to do is to go camping just as we planned,” said Jerry. “I don’t believe we can do much here, do you Ned?”
“No, I don’t s’pose we can,” replied that youth. “I did want to help dad, but as long as the stuff is gone, and there is some clue to the thieves, I don’t see that I can do any more. I’m for going to camp.”
“Well, let’s go then,” said Bob. “I’m anxious to get out in the woods where I’ll have an appetite.”
“Good land! If you get up any more of an appetite than you have now, Chunky,” said Ned, “I don’t know what we’ll do with you. Can’t you do something for it? Take Anti-Fat or Padded Pellets for Peculiar People or something that’s advertised in the backs of magazines. It’s terrible to have such an appetite as you have.”
“I guess you’d think so, sometimes,” remarked Bob, as he looked at his watch and noted with satisfaction that it was nearly dinner time.
“Come on down to my house for lunch!” exclaimed Ned, divining Bob’s thoughts. “We can talk matters over with dad, and see if it’s all right to go.”
Mr. Slade saw no objection to the boys making the trip. His loss, while a heavy one, did not cripple him, as he was a rich man. He thanked the boys for their thoughtfulness in offering to give up their pleasure trip to help him, but said he did not see there was anything they could do.
“I guess the police will find the robbers if it’s possible,” he added. “At the same time, if you run across any clues on the lake you can let us know. It seems to be the belief of the officials that the robbers came and went in a boat. It might have been a power or a sail boat. If it happens to come on the lake with my valuables and goods in, if you get them I’ll give you a reward,” and he laughed for the first time that day.
“We may claim that reward,” said Jerry.
The boys made an early start the next morning and, just as it was getting dusk they made a turn in the broadening river, and, saw spread out before them a big sheet of water.
Lake Cantoga was about fifteen miles long and nine wide. There were several small islands in it, and these, as well as the shores were favorite spots for camping parties. The boys decided to pick out one of the islands, but, as it was getting dark, they could not see which one had not been selected by other campers.
“I think we had better tie up along shore to-night,” said Jerry, as he steered the boat out upon the lake. “We can look about better in the morning.”
“Suits me,” said Bob, and Ned agreed.
As the Dartaway skimmed out from the shadows of the shore she was seen by the owners of other power boats, and greeted with the regulation three whistles, to which Jerry replied.
“Guess they’re glad to see us,” he remarked. “I had no idea there were so many here this year. Maybe we’ll get a race.”
“That will be bully sport,” said Bob.
“Going to camp here?” called the steersman of one boat, which, as the boys could see, was evidently built for racing, as there was little room for anything but the engine.
“We figure on staying a week or so,” replied Jerry.
“Glad of it,” replied the stranger. “My name’s Smith, just plain John Smith. I’m camping with some friends over on Coon’s Island. Come over and see us when you get settled.”
“Thanks,” answered Jerry. “Are there any other good islands to camp on?”
“There’s Deer Island, next to ours,” replied Mr. Smith. “It’s a nice place, and hasn’t been taken yet this year. Why don’t you come there?”
“Maybe we will,” replied Jerry. “We’re going to tie up along shore for to-night.”
“Be pleased to have you put up at my shack,” said the owner of the racing boat. “Got lots of room.”
“Thank you, we’ll rough it for to-night,” said Jerry. “We’ll look you up to-morrow.”
“Well, then, good-night,” called Mr. Smith, and he opened up his boat and shot away in a smother of foam. “Hope you go in the races,” he called back, but he was too far away then to be answered.
“Let’s have supper,” broke in Bob. “We can talk about racing to-morrow.”
Jerry sent the boat under some overhanging trees. She was made fast with bow and stern lines, and then the boys, having lighted several lanterns, and the big search lamp, prepared supper.
The meal was eaten with appetites such as only come from perfect health and a life in the open. The boys filled themselves with no fear of future consequences, and then, having let down the side curtains, and seeing that all was snug, they pulled out the bunks and went to sleep.
They arose about nine o’clock and, after a bath donned their old clothes, for they anticipated rough work in making camp, and prepared breakfast.
“Shall we use lake water or get some from a spring for coffee?” asked Ned.
“Better hunt for a spring,” suggested Jerry. “There’s a house up there,” and he pointed to one quite a way from the river. “Maybe you can get some there.”
Ned took a pail and jumped to the bank. As he did so he uttered a cry.
“Sprain your ankle?” asked Jerry.
“No, but look here!” exclaimed Ned.
In an instant Jerry was at his side. Ned pointed to the ground close to a big tree to which the bow line of the Dartaway was fastened.
There, in the soil was the imprint of a foot, and in the center of it was the mark of an arrow worked in hob nails.
“The man who robbed my father’s store!” exclaimed Ned.
“Or one with the same kind of shoes,” added Jerry.
“There would hardly be two alike,” spoke Ned. “I’m sure it’s the same one.”
“How can you be?” asked Jerry.
“Because I noticed that in the prints in the dust on the window sill,” replied Ned, “that there was a nail missing from the shaft of the arrow. See, there is a nail out in this one,” and he showed his companion that this was so.
Jerry bent closer to the print.
“You’re right!” he said. “This mystery is deepening. But the prints might have been there for some time.”
“No,” said Ned. “It rained after we went to bed last night. Not much, but a shower sufficient to make mud. That print was made after the rain.”
“Then the man was spying on us,” said Jerry.
“He certainly was around here,” put in Bob, who had come ashore. “Say, let’s send for Chief Dalton.”
“Maybe we can do a little detective work ourselves,” suggested Ned.
“I think it would be better to let the chief know the man may be in this neighborhood,” spoke Jerry. “Probably the information will not amount to anything, but if something should happen they could not blame us for keeping still.”
“Are you going back to Cresville?” asked Bob.
“No, I think it will do to drop him a note,” said Jerry. “We can run to some post-office after breakfast.”
The meal was hurried along and then, Jerry having written a note to Chief Dalton, the lines were cast off and the boat started for Eastport, a little village about five miles off, where, as the boys learned from the house where they got the water, they could post letters.
They all went ashore at the post-office, which was near the edge of the lake. Inside they found quite a large crowd.
“Mail must come in early,” said Ned, for it was hardly ten o’clock.
But it was not the arrival of the mail which had attracted the throng. Instead they were all staring at a big poster on the wall. On top the boys saw in big letters:
REWARD!
Underneath was a lot of reading matter, which, as the boys hastily perused it, they saw was an account of the robbery of Mr. Slade’s store, and a description of Noddy, who, it was stated, had been kidnapped by a gang of river thieves. A reward of $500 was offered for the arrest and conviction of the thieves, while Mr. Nixon offered to pay a like sum for the return of his son. The posters were signed by Chief Dalton.
“Well, things are certainly doing back in Cresville,” remarked Ned, as Jerry posted the letter. “Mr. Nixon still thinks Noddy was stolen away.”
“Wouldn’t it be fun if we could land the thieves and Noddy too,” said Bob. “That would be a thousand dollars.”
“I guess if we landed the thieves Noddy would not be far off,” spoke Jerry in a low tone. “I don’t believe he would rob the store, but I’m afraid he’s gotten in with a bad gang that would. Hello, here’s another notice.”
There was one on the opposite wall. It was not so large as the other, and was an announcement that the following Saturday there would be a regatta at the lake, in which there would be rowing, sailing, swimming and motor boat races.
“What’s the matter with us entering?” asked Bob.
“I guess we could,” commented Jerry. “I see our friend John Smith is in charge. We can probably find out all particulars from him. But come on, we’d better be getting to the island or we’ll find it taken.”
They learned from the postmaster how to get to Deer Island, and, purchasing a few supplies, and some butter, which they had neglected to bring along, they set out.
Deer Island was about an hour’s run from the village of Eastport, and as they neared it they saw the boat they had met the evening before cruising about.
“Dartaway ahoy!” exclaimed Mr. Smith, who, as the boys could now see, was a man about twenty-five years old.
“On board the Tortoise!” called back Jerry, reading the name of Mr. Smith’s craft on the bow.
“I was wondering if you’d show up,” went on Mr. Smith. “That’s a nice boat you got there. Can she go?”
“Well, we think so,” replied Jerry modestly.
“Come on out and have a brush,” invited Mr. Smith, running up along side. The boys saw his craft was a powerful six cylindered one.
“Thank you, but I guess we’d better get our camp in shape first,” spoke Jerry. “Afterward why perhaps we can have a race.”
“Tell you what, you’re just in time for the regatta,” went on Mr. Smith. “I’m in charge of the motor boat contests. Let me enter you. The prize is a silver cup.”
“Oh I guess you can put us down all right,” went on Ned.
“What are the names?” asked Mr. Smith, slowing down his craft and producing paper and pencil.
Ned gave the names of his friends and his own, and Mr. Smith jotted them down. “I’ll send you an entry blank this afternoon,” he said, “and you can fill it up. I’ll show you over the course whenever you like. Good-bye, I’ve got to run over for the mail,” and, opening the throttle, he sent his boat ahead in a smother of foam while the cylinders fairly thundered with the explosions.
“Guess we wouldn’t have much chance with him in the race,” observed Bob.
“Oh I don’t know,” Jerry said. “The Dartaway is a pretty fast boat. I’ll not give up until we’re beaten.”
The boys found Deer Island a pleasant place to camp. There were no parties on it yet, though it was big enough for several. There was a natural harbor, in a little cove, and some one had built a small dock, and a boathouse, with merely a roof and no sides, where the Dartaway could be kept.
“Say, this is all right,” commented Ned. “This is going to be jolly sport.”
The boys spent a busy morning. They set up the tent, made up the cots, and took the gasolene stove ashore, as they decided to do their cooking on land rather than in the boat, where quarters were not any too large. This done they found they had their appetites with them, and proceeded to make a meal off canned stuff.
In the afternoon Mr. Smith came over with the entry blanks, which the boys signed. Then, at their new friend’s suggestion, they followed him over the course, a triangular one of three miles to each leg. Mr. Smith showed them where the stake buoys were, and told them there was a clear course, and plenty of water all around.
The day of the regatta could not have been better had it been made to order. There was enough of a breeze to make sailing a pleasure, but not enough to make the water rough. One after another the different events were run off until it came time for the motor boat contest.
There were ten craft entered, and a pretty sight they made as they came up to the starting line. Some of the boats were small and were given a time allowance, while the larger ones were handicapped. Mr. Smith’s boat, having the reputation, as the boys learned, of being the fastest on the lake was held back ten minutes. The Dartaway with Jerry steering was placed on “scratchy” time, that is starting off with the five boats judged to be about on an even footing as regarded speed.
At the signal off went the boats having a time allowance. Then the five, including the Dartaway, got off together. Behind it came three rated higher than the Cresville boys’ craft, and then the Giant, a big boat, but with a smaller engine than the Tortoise’s. Last came Mr. Smith’s craft, and what a noise she made when her captain, who, with two friends was running her, threw in the high speed gear.
The race was on. Several power boats that had not entered followed the contestants. The Judge’s boat was also going part way over the course. At the two outer buoys were stationed markers to see that the boats kept fairly to the course.
For the first few minutes the boys were so excited that they did not know whether they had a chance to win or not. They kept pace with the five boats in the company of which they started. Jerry called to Bob and Ned to oil the engine more, and then he put on a little additional speed.
The Dartaway seemed to leap forward, and left the four boats behind. Seeing this their owners increased their speeds, but Jerry, once he found his craft was behaving finely, shoved the lever over another notch or two, and soon was two lengths ahead of the nearest of the four.
“Now to overhaul some of those ahead,” spoke Bob.
“I’m afraid we can’t,” remarked Ned.
But the boys found they were slowly but surely coming up to the leaders. Gradually they lessened the space between them until the Dartaway was in line with the first boat that got away.
But during this time the Giant and Tortoise had not been idle. With their powerful engines they were slowly cutting down the Dartaway’s lead. For a while the two larger craft were in line, but the Giant, finding the load too much for her motors, dropped slowly to the rear.
Not so the Tortoise. In a smother of foam she came on, the explosions roaring like a blast furnace.
“He’s going to catch us,” shouted Ned, for one had to yell to be heard above the roar of the Dartaway’s engine which had been cut off from the muffler to give a little more power.
“The race isn’t over yet,” called back Jerry, shoving the levers over almost to the last notch.
Shortly after the first buoy had been passed it became evident that the struggle for the winning place was between the Dartaway and the Tortoise. The others had either given up or were racing among themselves for third and fourth prizes.
Rounding the second buoy the Tortoise passed the Dartaway. It was to have been expected, but the boys felt none the less chagrined. They had hoped to win, but it was a big thing to go up against a six cylindered craft with a four.
But Jerry had not given up yet. He had the motor running at top speed now. The spark had been advanced to the last notch, and the cylinders were taking all the gasolene they could use and not choke. Slowly but surely the Tortoise drew away.
Suddenly there seemed to be some commotion on board the leading boat. The two friends of Mr. Smith were seen to be busy over the motor.
“Hark!” cried Jerry. “One of his cylinders is missing! We have a chance now.”
Sure enough the explosions from the Tortoise were not so regular as they had been. One of the cylinders had become clogged, and with five going the engine worked unevenly.
“I think we can beat him!” exclaimed Jerry grimly. He was not rejoicing over a contestant’s misfortune, but it is on such mishaps as this that motor boat and automobile races are won and lost.
Now the Dartaway was creeping up on her rival. True it was but a slow advance, for there were still five cylinders in the Tortoise against her four. But the boys’ craft was doing nobly, and their hearts beat high with hope.
Mr. Smith was not going to give up without a struggle. His two companions worked like Trojans over the silent cylinder, but could not get it to respond.
Then to the boys’ delight they found themselves on even terms with the redoubtable Tortoise. They were on the home stretch with less than a mile to go. Already they could hear the shouts, the cries and the applause of the watching throngs, with which mingled the shrill whistles of steam and motor boats.
Three minutes later the Dartaway had regained the lead she had at the start, and thirty seconds later had increased it. With two big waves rolling away on either side of her cut-water she forged ahead. Foot by foot she approached the stake boat. With one last look back, which showed him the Tortoise five lengths to the rear, Jerry with a final turn of the wheel to clear the judges’ boat safely, sent the Dartaway over the line a winner.
What shouting and cheers greeted the motor boys as they slowed up their craft! The din was deafening, augmented as it was by the shrill whistles. The Tortoise, too, was received with an ovation as she came over the line second, but it was easy to see the victory of the smaller boat was popular.
“Congratulations, boys!” called Mr. Smith as he run his craft alongside. “You beat me fair and square.”
He did not refer to the fact that one of his cylinders went out of commission, but for which fact he undoubtedly would have won. The boys appreciated this.
The boys accepted their victory modestly, and when they were sent for to go aboard the judges’ boat and get the prize Bob was for backing out, while neither Ned nor Jerry felt much like going through the ceremony.
“Tell ’em to send it over,” suggested Bob.
“That would hardly look nice,” replied Jerry. “Come on, let’s all go together. It will soon be over. Who’d have thought we could have butted into the lime-light so soon?”
Having received the cup and stowed it safely away Jerry was about to steer the Dartaway back to Deer Island when he was hailed by Mr. Smith.
“Oh I say, you’re not going away, are you?” asked the skipper of the Tortoise.
“I think we’d better be getting back,” replied Jerry. “We have to straighten out the camp.”
“Nonsense,” said Mr. Smith. “The fun’s not half over. Why there’s no end of good things to eat over there. The committee made arrangements to dine all contestants, and I’m sure you boys are the chief ones after the handy way in which you won that race. Really now, you must stop a bit with us.”
“I guess we’d better,” said Bob, in a whisper. “It wouldn’t be polite to refuse.”
“You were willing enough when it came to sliding out of the cup proposition,” said Jerry, “but now, when there’s something to eat, you’re right on the job, Chunky.”
“Guess we might as well,” put in Ned. “I could dally with a bit of chicken myself.”
“Well, far be it from me to stand in the way,” said Jerry, and, throwing the wheel around he followed the Tortoise, which, with the other boats, was making toward shore.
In the grove the boys found Mr. Smith had not exaggerated matters when he said there “was no end of good things to eat.” Large tables had been spread under the trees and waiters were flying here and there. The boys were a bit confused by all the excitement, but Mr. Smith soon found them, and introducing them to some of his friends, got places for them at one of the best tables.
“I guess you boys will have plenty of chances to race while you’re here,” said Mr. Smith. “I hear a number of skippers want to try issues with you.”
“Well, they’ll find us ready,” said Jerry. “We’re rather new at the game, but we’ll do our best.”
“That’s the way to talk,” cried Mr. Smith. “Play the game to the limit, no matter what it is. I’d like another brush myself. Your boat can certainly go.”
“I think you could beat us,” said Jerry frankly. “If you hadn’t had that accident you would have won.”
But now the dinner was almost over. Ice cream was being served, and when every one had eaten their fill, there arose from the head table where the regatta committee sat a cry of:
“Speeches! Speeches!”
Then came applause and cheers. The chairman of the committee arose and, looking down toward where the motor boys were sitting, began:
“I’m sure it would give us all pleasure to hear a few words from the winners of the motor boat race. They are newcomers to our midst, and, as such we welcome them.”
“Hear! Hear!” cried the crowd. “Speech! Speech!”
For a moment the boys felt a sort of cold chill go down their backs. It was the first time they had been placed in such a position. Bob looked at Ned, Ned looked at Jerry, and Jerry glanced down at Bob.
“Say something, Jerry!” whispered Ned.
“Yes; go ahead; talk!” exclaimed Bob.
“Wait until I get you both back to camp!” muttered Jerry, as he pushed back his chair and arose.
His heart was beating fast and there was a roaring in his ears. He was greatly embarrassed, but he felt he must say something to show that he appreciated the honor paid him and his comrades.
“I’m sure my friends and I are deeply sensible of this welcome,” he said. “We didn’t expect to win the race, though we did our best. We’re very glad to be here among you, and we hope to continue the acquaintances we have made. And I want to say that if one of Mr. Smith’s cylinders—I mean if one of Mr. Cylinder’s smith—er—that is if the boat Mr. Smith cylinders—I mean owns—if his cylinder—er—that is if his boat’s culander—cylinder—hadn’t cracked Mr. Smith’s head—I would say if the cylinder—”
“What he means,” said Mr. Smith gallantly coming to the relief of poor Jerry, “is that if I hadn’t had the misfortune to crack the forward cylinder I might not have been beaten so badly. But I want to say that that’s all nonsense. It was a fair race, and won fairly, and the Dartaway did it. So I ask you to join with me in giving three cheers for the owners.”
The cheers were given with a will, and the boys felt the blushes coming to their cheeks. Altogether it was a jolly time, and one the lads never forgot.
“We didn’t make any mistake coming here,” said Jerry, who had taken his place at the wheel as they started for their camp. “It’s almost as much fun as automobiling in Mexico or crossing the plains.”
The boys were proceeding rather slowly as they had not yet familiarized themselves with the lake and their bearings, and they did not want to run into anything.
For a while the Dartaway skimmed along, there being no other craft near. The water lapped the sides and broke away in a ripple of silver waves.
Suddenly Jerry threw out the gear clutch, and began spinning the wheel around. At the same instant Bob and Ned, who had been looking to the rear, turned around and saw a big black shape in front of them.
“Ahoy there! Schooner ahoy!” called Jerry. “What do you mean by cruising about without a light. You’ve no right to do that. Look out there. You’ll foul us!”
The sound of feet running about on a deck could be heard. Then there came a moment of silence followed by a sudden jar and a grinding crash.
The shock threw the Dartaway back. Jerry had already turned off the power, and was slowing down for the reverse when the smash came. The motor boat had fairly poked her nose into the side of the schooner.
“Are we damaged?” cried Ned.
“I guess not,” replied Jerry, seizing one of the oil lanterns and holding it over the side of the bow. He could see a big dent in the wooden hull of the motor boat, and a larger one in the schooner. The two boats were now drifting apart.
Aboard the schooner there was much confusion. Several persons seemed to be talking at once. Lights flashed here and there.
“Look out, I’m going to back away,” said Jerry to Bob and Ned. “Is it all clear to the rear?”
He swung the search lantern so that the beams cut a path of light aft.
“Nothing in the road,” sung out Ned.
Slowly the Dartaway separated from the side of the schooner. As she did so the stern of the larger vessel swung over toward the motor boat, and Bob, who was watching it gave a sudden cry.
“What’s the matter? Is she going to hit us again?” called Jerry, slowing up the engine.
“No!” cried Bob. Then lowering his voice and crawling to where Jerry stood he whispered:
“This boat has the name of Bluebird on her stern!”
At the same instant there came floating over the water the sound of a voice from some one aboard the larger craft.
“We’re sinking! Quick Bill! Get the boat over and find me a life preserver. I don’t want to drown!”
At the sound of the mysterious voice, coming so plainly amid the stillness that followed the crash the boys were startled.
“Doesn’t that sound just like—” began Bob.
“Hush!” cautioned Jerry in a whisper. “Wait a while before you talk.”
“I tell you we’re sinking!” the voice went on. “They rammed a hole clear through us. They did it on purpose! They want to capture me!”
“Keep quiet, you numbskull!” the boys heard some one exclaim in reply. “You’ll be caught quick enough if you don’t keep still. Do you want to give the whole thing away? Get below before they flash that search light on the deck and see who you are!”
Silence ensued, broken only by the sound of some one moving about on the deck of the schooner.
“Flash the light on ’em!” called Ned.
Jerry swung the big gas lamp around on its pivot, and the blinding white glare illuminated the schooner. The only person to be seen on deck was a man at the helm, and, by the beams the boys could see he was roughly dressed.
For an instant the steersman stood plainly revealed in the beams. He wore nothing on his head, but, as soon as the glare set him out from the darkness he caught up from the rail a slouch hat which he pulled over his eyes, screening the upper part of his face.
“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Jerry with a pretense of anger, as he wanted to hear the man’s reply. “Couldn’t you see our boat?”
“If I could have d’ye s’pose I’d a stood here an’ let ye run int’ me?” the man asked in answer. “Them gasolene boats is gittin’ too dangerous. I’ll have th’ law on ye for this.”
“What about the law requiring sailing boats to carry lights at night?” asked Jerry. “I guess if there’s going to be any suing done we can do our share.”
The steersman made no answer. The wind freshened just then, and the schooner gathered way. The helmsman put her about, and she heeled over as the breeze came in powerful gusts.
While the after part of the sailing vessel was still in the zone of the search light the boys observed a second figure aboard. It came up the companionway leading down into a small cabin.
“Git down there!” the steersman exclaimed. “They’ll see you!”
The figure disappeared suddenly. The boys, seeing it would be no further use to argue with the surly skipper, put their boat on her course and resumed the trip to the island. They found beyond a slight loosening of the engine, due to the shock, no damage had resulted.
“Well, I think we ran into something that time,” remarked Ned.
“Two things I would say,” put in Jerry. “If that mysterious voice, the steersman tried to hush, wasn’t that of Noddy Nixon’s I’ll eat my hat.”
“I was just going to say the same thing,” added Bob. “I was sure I recognized it.”
“Then he isn’t kidnapped at all,” said Ned.
“I never believed he was,” came from Jerry.
“I wonder who the other person was,” said Bob.
“I have an idea it was Bill Berry,” said Jerry.
“It didn’t sound like his voice,” interposed Ned.
“If you noticed,” went on Jerry, “he talked with two voices. When he spoke to Noddy his tones and words were much different than when he addressed us and threatened to have the law on us. I’m sure it was Bill Berry.”
“Then those two are up to some mischief, I’ll bet,” ventured Ned. “There must be some game afoot when Noddy lets it be thought he is kidnapped, and when we find him away off here in a schooner.”
“There is,” spoke Jerry. “It’s the same game that began with the reference to something ‘blue’ that Bill Berry made that day. It’s the same game that we nearly discovered when we almost ran into the Bluebird, and now we have the same schooner away down here on the lake and we nearly sink in consequence of hitting her, or of her hitting us, for I believe they got in the way on purpose.”
“But what is the game?” asked Bob.
“That’s what’s puzzling me,” replied Jerry. “I’m inclined to think that the gang Chief Dalton is after will be found to have some connection with this vessel, and while I have only a mere suspicion of it, I believe the robbery of Mr. Slade’s store is—”
“Look out there! You’re going to hit me! Keep to the left!” exclaimed an excited voice.
Jerry rapidly spun the wheel around and the Dartaway veered to one side with a swish of water, just grazing a rowboat with a man in it, that loomed up dead ahead.
“Almost had me that time,” said the rower pleasantly as the Dartaway slowed up. “It was my fault though, I ought to have had a light.”
His frank admission of his error, and his failure to abuse the boys for nearly colliding with him, as most rowers would have done under the circumstances, made the boys feel at ease.
“Sorry we caused you such a fright,” said Jerry. “Can we give you a tow?”
He swung the search light about to illuminate the rowboat. As he did so he gave an exclamation of astonishment. The rower was none other than the ragged tramp who had been rescued from the hay barge, and who had been given a ride in the Terror following the unsuccessful chase after the motor boat thieves. He recognized the boys at once.
“Oh it’s you, my young preservers!” the tramp said. “Well, we seem fated to meet at odd moments. First you save my life, and then you nearly take it from me. Well, it evens matters up.”
“Can we tow you anywhere?” asked Jerry again.
“Thanks, noble sir,” replied the tramp with the same assumed grand air he had used when talking to Chief Dalton. “I fain would dine, and if you can take me to some palace where the beds are not too hard, and where I could have a broiled fowl, or a bit of planked whale, with a sip or two of ambrosial nectar, I would forever call you blessed.”
“Do you mean you’re hungry?” asked Bob, who had a fellow feeling for all starved persons.
“As the proverbial bear,” answered the tramp. “You haven’t a stray cracker about your person, have you?”
“No, but I’ve got a couple of ham sandwiches,” said Bob.
“Well if you’re not at it again, Chunky,” said Jerry. “Where’d you get ’em?”
“I put ’em in my pocket at the feed this afternoon,” replied Bob, taking the sandwiches out and passing them to the tramp, whose boat was now alongside. “I thought they’d come in handy.”
“As indeed they do,” the ragged man put in, munching away at the bread and meat with right good appetite. “I thank you most heartily.”
“If you care to come to our camp we can give you something more and a little coffee,” said Jerry. “You could also sleep under shelter. We have a tent ashore you can use and we can sleep on board the boat.”
“If it would not discommode you, I would be glad of the opportunity,” the tramp said, dropping his assumed manner and speaking sincerely. “I was about to spend the night in the woods,” he went on, “but I much prefer shelter. I have a mission here, and while I am on it I have to rough it at times. But I am almost finished.”
“Will you come aboard, or shall we tow you?” asked Ned.
“Perhaps it would be as well to tow me,” replied the tramp. “I have some things in my boat I would not like to lose.”
The tow line was soon made fast to the Dartaway, and the boys resumed their trip which had twice been interrupted by accidents. They reached the island in safety, and soon were preparing some coffee and a light supper. The tramp fastened his boat to a tree that projected over the water, and, then sat at the rough table the boys had constructed under a canvas awning.
“I don’t believe I have been presented to you gentlemen,” said the tramp, as the night dinner was about to begin. Jerry laughing, introduced himself and his chums.
“Are you Aaron Slade’s son?” asked the tramp excitedly, as Ned’s name was mentioned.
“Aaron Slade is my father,” replied Ned, wondering what object the tramp could have in asking.
“The one who was recently robbed?”
“The same.”
“Well if this isn’t—” began the tramp more excited than before. “I must—no I must not. Pray excuse me,” he went on, with an assumption of his former grand air, “I must not refer to that. It escaped me before I was aware of it. Pay no attention to what I said. I was going to tell you something, but the time is not yet ripe. Now let’s fall to, for I’m still imitating the bear in the predilection of my appetite,” and he attacked the food with every evidence that he was speaking the truth.
The boys looked at each other in surprise. Ned, in particular, wondered what the tramp meant by starting as if he intended to tell some secret and then stopping. Seeing that their guest was not observing him, Jerry made a gesture that indicated the tramp might not be altogether right in his head. In this view Bob and Ned coincided.
They were not alarmed, however, as the man did not seem to be dangerous. He was too busy eating to talk, and the boys soon forgot their curiosity in making away with the food, for the trip across the lake had given them all appetites.
It was arranged that the tramp should sleep in the shelter tent, while the boys made use of the bunks on board the boat. It was nearly midnight before they turned in, and the motor boys, at least, slept soundly until morning.
As for the tramp he may have rested well, but at any rate he was not a late sleeper, for, when the boys crawled out of their comfortable beds for a plunge into the lake they found he had built a fire on shore and was boiling their tea kettle over it.
“That’s very good of you, but you needn’t have gone to that trouble,” said Jerry. “We have a gasolene stove.”
“Tut, tut!” exclaimed the ragged man. “Water for coffee should always be boiled over an open fire. It has more flavor.”
Thinking this was only one of the tramp’s odd conceits the boys did not argue further with him. They took their bath, their odd guest meanwhile making coffee.
“If you’ll tell me where the bacon and other things are I’ll finish getting this meal,” he called to them where they were splashing in the lake.
“Shall we let him?” asked Jerry of his chums in a low voice.
“Guess he won’t poison the stuff,” said Bob. “Besides it will be ready while we are dressing and we’ll not have to wait.”
Accordingly Jerry called out directions how to find the victuals, and soon the savory smell of sizzling bacon and frying eggs was wafted over the water. They had a breakfast fit for a king, and complimented the tramp on his skill.
A little later the tramp proposed that the boys take his rowboat and go fishing on the other side of the island. They were doubtful about leaving him in charge of the camp.
“I see you’re a little suspicious of me,” the tramp said. “Well I don’t blame you. However to show you that I’m all right read that.”
He held out a slip of paper, on which was written: