The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket: or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir

Pedro, in fact, in his dread lest he be shot, was lying on his stomach, his face between hiscrossed arms, while Halstead stood over him, holding that wholly useless “pistol.”

“Just move that car a few yards ahead, willyou?” begged Tom of the chauffeur, fearingthat in the strong light, Pedro might steal alook sideways and find out what a comical“weapon” had scared him.

“There are three of the crowd up there,”added Joe. “They were chasing us, but yourarrival scared them off.”

“I’ll make sure of the one we have, first,”returned the constable, going toward the prostratenegro. “My man, put your hands behind you, and be quick about it.”

Pedro obeyed without a murmur, the constablesnapping handcuffs on him without lossof an instant. “Now, help me lift him intothe auto – front seat,” directed the officer.But Pedro, seemingly afraid of the consequencesof any stubbornness, aided his captors.

“Can you keep him, Jack?” asked the constableof the man at the steering wheel.

“I can bring him down, if he tries to bolt,”came the quick retort from the chauffeur.

“’Fore hebben, Ah won’t try nothing funny,”protested Pedro, solemnly. He was seeminglystill afraid that the slightest defiance wouldcost him his life.

“See that this fellow is locked up, Jack,”commanded Jennison, in a low voice. “Speedsome, too, and get back here as fast as you canwith some more men. It may be that there’sgoing to be a fight.”

Just as the car started two sharp reports rangout from the hillside above. There were twoflashes, and bullets whizzed ominously over theroad. One of them pierced Tom’s uniform cap, carrying it from his head.

There being nothing he could do, Dawsonthrew himself to the ground, out of harm’s way.Tom, crouching low, darted across the roadafter his hat. But Jennison leaped forward, weapon in hand, letting three shots fly back toanswer the defiance from under the trees.

“Come on! We’ll close in on ’em and mow’em down if they don’t surrender!” shoutedthe officer.

His call to the boys was intended for thehearing of those above. He had no notion thatthe boys, unarmed, would accompany him.Yet, as Jennison bounded over the wall, thetwo young motor boat boys were behind himon either side.

“Now, then, you fellows up there, throwdown your shooting irons and prepare to giveyourselves up,” called the doughty constable.“If you don’t – ”

Four shots answered this demand, the bulletsclipping off leaves so close to the trio thatthe boys crouched lower almost instinctively.

“All right, then, I’m coming up to get you!”shouted the constable running forward, weaponin hand. But he halted at length, well awayfrom the road, uncertain which way to turn.

“What are you boys doing here, unarmed?”he whispered, facing them in surprise.

“We’re as safe here as we’d be anywhereelse hereabouts,” Tom whispered back.

“Yes, I don’t know but that’s so. Butwhere can the scoundrels be? Do you knowanything about the lay of the land here?”

“I think we can find the ravine where theytook us,” suggested Joe.

“Try to, then.”

Both boys now went a bit in advance of theofficer, but he kept close to them, in order tobe on hand if they ran into any danger.

The ravine proved to be empty, however.Tom pointed out where he had slashed Joe’sbonds away. “And over yonder,” he added,“I guess I can show you the rope I worked myown wrists out of. Once I worked my handsfree it didn’t take me long to cut away the restof the tackle.”

Though they searched for upwards of an hour, they were unable to find any further trace ofthe scoundrels. Nor did they come upon anyplace that looked as though it had been used asa hiding place for the missing Dunstan heir.

Then a loud honking from the road recalledthem. The chauffeur was there with the machine, from which were alighting four deputieswhom he had brought out with him fromWood’s Hole.

“I’m going to leave you men here to carryon the search,” explained Mr. Jennison. “Keepit up all through the night, and through thedaylight, too, if you run across anything thatlooks like a trail. These young men will describeto you the fellows you’re expected tofind. I’ll be back bye and bye, but don’t waitfor me.”

Tom and Joe quickly described the threefugitives from justice. Then Jennison turnedto the chauffeur to inquire:

“Could you work any information out of thatblack man?”

“Not a word,” came the grumbling reply.“After a few minutes he got over being soscared, but he couldn’t be made to say a wordabout his crowd. Just closed his mouth, andwouldn’t talk. Musgrave has him in hand now,at the station house, but not a word can the fellowbe made to say.”

“I’m going back with you, now,” proposedJennison, “to see what I can get out of him.You boys may as well come with me. It lookslike a losing chase here. If we can get somethingout of the chap, Pedro, we’ll have somethingreal to come back with.”

So Tom and Joe piled in with their newfriend. In less than half an hour they had enteredthe little guard-room of the police stationat Wood’s Hole. Pedro, still manacled, was seated in a hard wooden armchair betweentwo constables, while Detective Musgrave pacedthe floor before him.

“He’s trying a crafty game,” smiled Musgrave,as the newcomers entered. “Once in awhile the prisoner talks, but when he does it’s toshake his head and mutter a string in Spanish.”

“He understands English well enough,” answeredTom. “He has talked a whole lot of itto me.”

“Of course he understands English,” laughedMr. Musgrave. “I know his type of coloredman well. He’s a Jamaica negro, born andbrought up with English spoken around him.Afterwards he went over to Central Americaand picked up Spanish.”

“No sabe,” broke in the negro, lookingblankly at those who surrounded him.

“Oh, you savvy plenty well enough,” Tom retortedtartly. “And see here, Pedro, you’re apretty cheap sort of rascal anyway. You rememberhow Joe and I caught you, and how Iscared you cold? Do you know what it was thatscared your grit away from you? Just a plain, ordinary, every-day joke of a cap pistol!”

Pedro started, his lips opening in a gasp atthat information.

“Oh, of course you understand, just as wellas anyone else in the room,” Halstead went on.“And here’s the young cannon that made youlie so still in the road.”

With a short laugh Tom produced the cappistol, holding it before the astonished blackman’s face. Pedro’s disgusted expression wasenough to make them all laugh.

“He can’t even pretend he doesn’t understandEnglish now,” snorted Mr. Musgrave. “Comenow, my man, open your mouth and talk to us.It may help you out a bit when you come to betried.”

Still, however, the black man refused to say aword. Constable Jennison tried his hand atmaking the fellow speak, but without success.At last they gave it up. The negro was taken toa cell, left under watch, and the others went outside.

“I’m going back up the road,” Jennison announced.“Want to come with me, boys?”

“I think they’d better stay by the boat, in caseanything turns up that we want the craft,” Musgravebroke in.

So Tom and Joe struck out for the pier, findingJed mighty glad to have them back oncemore. For an hour the three boys sat on the“Meteor’s” deckhouse and talked. After thatthe time began to hang heavily on their hands.

Broad daylight came with still no word fromthe seekers, nor from any other point. At alittle after four o’clock Mr. Musgrave camedown to tell them that they might as well returnto Nantucket.

It was six o’clock when the “Meteor” berthedat the island. Jed had served a breakfast on thetrip over. As soon as the boat was docked Jedhurried into the broad bunk off the cabin passageway, while Tom and Joe, yawning withweariness, lay down on the engine-room lockers.

“This is Sunday morning and to-morrowmorning Ted Dunstan must be in court withhis father or lose a tremendously big fortune,”groaned Tom. “Oh, when we’ve been so nearto rescuing him, why can’t we have him safelyhome under his father’s roof?”

“Maybe I’ll have the answer thought out bythe time I wake up,” gaped Joe Dawson. “Butjust at this present moment I’m so tired I don’tknow whether I’m an imitation engineer or aclambake.”

Then another sound came from his berth.Dawson was snoring.

CHAPTER XIV – HEADED FOR THE SUNKEN REEF

Szz-zz! Sputter! And the fragrance of it, too!

“Say, you fellows; aren’t you ever goingto wake up?”

Jed Prentiss had his hand on Joe, shaking him.

“Have you any idea what time it is?”insisted Jed, as Dawson opened his eyeshalfway.

“Time to go to bed again,” muttered Joe, tryingto shake off that insistent hand and rollingover the other way.

“It’s after noon,” pronounced Prentiss.“Say, you fellows could sleep a week through!”And Jed gave Joe a hearty shake. “I told youbreakfast is ready.”

“No, you didn’t,” insisted Joe.

“I’ve told you so three times in the last fiveminutes,” asserted Jed, “but you wouldn’t wakeup long enough to understand. Can’t you get itthrough your head? Breakfast!”

“Whatcher got?” asked Joe drowsily.

“Coffee!”

“Had that yesterday,” protested Joe, settlinghimself as though for another doze.

“And bacon and eggs!”

“Had that three days ago,” complained Joe.

“And fried potatoes,” went on Jed.

“They’ll keep.”

“Muffins!” proclaimed Jed solemnly.

At that Dawson opened his eyes wide.

“Are they sticky inside or your best kind, browned all over the top?” Joe asked with ashow of interest.

“Browned?” echoed Jed. “Say, they’rebeauties – the best I ever baked. And I’veopened a tin of preserved pineapple to top offwith.”

“I guess maybe I’ll get up,” admitted Joe.

“You’d better, if you don’t want to find everythingcold and tasteless,” insisted Jed, whothereupon went over to shake Halstead.

But Tom slipped up instantly, reaching forhis swimming tights. Soon a splash was heardover the side. Joe followed him. Both feltmore awake when they came back to towel down.As they dressed the savory smells of Jed’s bestbreakfast made them hurry.

“I’d sooner have you wake me up, Jed, thansome folks I know,” announced Joe Dawson, ashe passed his plate for the second helping ofbacon, eggs and fried potatoes.

“It does taste good,” Halstead admitted witha relish, chewing hard. “But has there beenany news from the house this morning?”

“Haven’t seen a soul, except you sleepers,”Jed answered.

“How did you wake up, anyway!” demandedJoe suspiciously. “Alarm clock at your head?”

“Yes,” assented Prentiss. “But it reallywoke me up. That’s more than it could do foryou fellows.”

By the time they had that famous breakfastdown all felt better. Tom and Joe adjournedto the deck, where Jed joined them as soon ashe had washed the dishes and cleaned up.

“Here comes Mr. Dunstan now,” announcedJoe presently.

All turned to look at the boat’s owner. Mr.Dunstan appeared to have aged greatly afterhis night’s vigil. His face was furrowed bycare; he walked with a greater stoop than before.

“Poor fellow,” sighed Halstead. “And thereare only twenty-four hours left for finding theDunstan heir.”

“No news, I take it, sir?” hailed Tom, as theowner stepped upon the pier and came towardthe boat.

“None, since the word Mr. Musgrave sent melast night of your exploits,” murmured HoraceDunstan, shaking his head sadly. “And tothink that my boy has spent days aboard thatugly craft,” he added, gazing wistfully atthe yellow-hulled launch at anchor a few rodsaway. Then he turned once more to the youngskipper.

“How are you and your friends, Halstead?Very tired?”

“I don’t believe we’re so weary that you’dnotice it unless you looked very hard,” smiledHalstead.

“If you’re not too much used up by lastnight’s work I have a favor to ask of you. Butit’s not an order, understand?”

“Why, what can it be, Mr. Dunstan?”

“Well, you see,” continued the owner apologetically,“before this trouble happened we hadinvited Mrs. Lester and her two young daughtersto spend a fortnight with us. They had notheard of our misfortune, and so they came overon this morning’s boat. They heard in Nantucketand telephoned us, proposing to turnabout and go home again. But of course we insistedthat they should come to us. They aregoing to church, this evening, but Mrs. Dunstanis so much upset over the mystery surroundingour son that – that – well, we thoughtof proposing that they use the ‘Meteor’ for alittle sail this afternoon. That is, in case youyoung men are not too tired to – ”

“Why, of course we can take the boat out,”replied Halstead, breaking in upon the considerateowner. “It won’t tire us any more thanlolling around the pier.”

“Mrs. Dunstan and I will both be greatlypleased if you will do it,” declared HoraceDunstan gratefully.

“But do you think any developments fromshore will make it necessary to get the ‘Meteor’on the jump over to Wood’s Hole?” broke inJoe.

“You might keep the boat within sight of ourflagpole,” replied Mr. Dunstan. “That willallow you to sail some miles away if you usethe glass every few minutes. In case we wantyou to return here in haste we’ll hoist one redpennant. If we want you to make full speedfor Wood’s Hole, without first returning here,we’ll hoist two red pennants. In the latter caseyou can land Mrs. Lester and her daughters andthey can go to the hotel at Wood’s Hole untilyour work with the boat is done. Then you canbring them back.”

“That’ll all be clear and easy,” nodded Tom.“Well, sir, we’re ready when you are.”

“I’ll be right back with the ladies,” promisedMr. Dunstan. Joe began to oil the engine, whileJed made a dive for his cleanest white duck suit.Tom carefully brushed his uniform; he hadsecured another coat, at the owner’s expense, since leaving that other behind in the tight gripof Jonas French. It was a trim, natty-lookingboat’s crew that met the ladies when Mr. Dunstanbrought them aboard. Mrs. Lester was awoman of forty, still young looking and handsome.The girls – Elsie, aged seventeen, andJessie, fifteen, looked extremely sweet anddainty in their white dresses, blue reefers andyachting caps.

Mr. Dunstan left them almost immediately.

“Shall I take you aft to the deck chairs?” inquiredTom.

Mrs. Lester assented, but the girls declaredthat, if they might, they much preferred to remainon the bridge deck and watch the runningof the boat. To this Tom gladly assented.

The “Meteor” slipped gracefully away fromher pier, then turned and headed over in thedirection of Muskeget Island. This was a coursethat would keep them easily in sight of the Dunstanflagpole.

“You must look upon us as splendid nuisances?”suggested Elsie.

“Yes, to that, if you’ll leave out the word‘nuisances,’” smiled Captain Tom gallantly.

“But to be asked to take the boat out, afterall your hard and daring work last night,”added Jessie.

“Hard work comes naturally in a life on thesea,” Tom replied. “And we had our sleep, after the night’s work.”

“But what fearful danger you went through.Mr. Dunstan was telling us all about it, as heheard it from his man over at Wood’s Hole,”said Elsie. “What fearful danger you werein!”

“We didn’t think much about it at the time,”remarked Halstead modestly. “When one hashad to stand at the wheel of a motor boat, onthe broad ocean, in all sorts of weather, andwhen he has to win out and bring his craft andpassengers back safely, he doesn’t meet muchthat he calls dangerous.”

It was so quietly spoken that both girlsglanced quickly, admiringly at the young captain.Joe, standing at the hatchway, looked asthough he were thinking of nothing but the revolutionsper minute that the propeller shaft wasmaking.

“It must just be a splendid life!” declaredJessie impulsively. “I wish I were a boy.”

“Some day,” laughed Tom, “you may bepleased that you’re not.”

“Yet it must be fine,” pursued Elsie, “to lookover this handsome boat and feel that you’reman enough to be absolute master of her and tofeel that you can handle and control her underany conditions.”

“I couldn’t,” Halstead declared seriously.“I can steer the boat as long as the steeringgear isn’t damaged or broken, that is, if theboat is under headway. But let there be an accidentto the steering mechanism or let the motorrefuse to drive the propeller, and suppose theaccident to be of such a nature that we threeboys couldn’t make the necessary repairs, howmuch control do you think I’d have over thiscraft? How much of a master do you think I’dbe? Miss Lester, certain men have used theirbrains to design boat hulls. Other men have inventedand perfected the propeller mechanism.Then finally other men, out of their brains, constructedthe gasoline motor. We boys didn’thave anything to do with any of those triumphsof skill. All we’ve had to do is to learn how tobe handy with the handling of other people’s discoveries.”

“That doesn’t sound very impressive, doesit?” laughed Jessie.

“It isn’t,” declared Joe, taking part in thetalk for the first time. “Down at the mouth ofthe Kennebec River there’s a whole club of boyswho have learned to do just what we do.”

“You may try to make out that you’re notbrave and manly,” laughed Elsie, “but I shallkeep on believing that you are.”

“That’s why I wish, sometimes, I could be aboy and grow up to be a man,” added Jessie.

“I guess a woman can find enough chance toshow bravery,” Tom answered thoughtfully.

“Oh, how the boat is rolling,” cried Elsie, lurching as the “Meteor” rolled over to port.

Jed, who had just lowered the glass after alook at the Dunstan flagstaff, caught her lightlyby one elbow, steadying her.

“If you brace your feet, just this way,” explainedJed, illustrating the idea with his ownfeet, “the roll won’t carry you off your balance.”

Both girls practiced it, laughing gayly overhaving learned a new trick on shipboard.

“Mr. Dunstan said something about yourgoing only a certain distance away from hisplace,” observed Miss Elsie presently.

“We must keep within sight of the flagstaff; that is, we mustn’t go so far that we’d fail tosee a signal through the glass,” Tom explained.

“How much further can you go, then?” inquiredMiss Jessie.

“Do you see that point over on Muskeget Island?” – pointing.

“Yes.”

“We can go a couple of miles beyond thereand still be able to make out signals.”

“My, it’s getting windier and rougher, isn’tit?” asked Elsie presently.

“I think there’s a good blow coming up beforelong,” Halstead answered. “If you wish,we can turn about and head back toward thepier.”

“Not unless you really want to,” protestedthe girl. “I’m enjoying this trip too much.”

“Then we’ll pass Muskeget and cruise upand down, instead of going further away fromNantucket,” Tom proposed. “The wind isshifting around to northeast, which promises agoodish kind of blow at this time of the year.If we should get very rough weather I’d like tobe where I can run in with you quickly, insteadof taking chances out here.”

“Can the ‘Meteor’ go faster than she’s goingnow?”

“Well, she’s making about fourteen miles,”smiled the young captain. “Her best speed isabout twice that.”

They ran out past Muskeget Island, thenturned back on their course, going nearer toNantucket. They were now about north ofMuskeget, but gradually passing the island, when Tom began to notice that something waswrong with the speed of the boat.

“What’s up with the engine, Joe?” Halsteadcalled down to his now invisible chum.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Joeretorted. “I don’t like the motor’s behavior, and it’s getting worse every minute.”

“I should say so,” muttered Tom.

“There isn’t any danger of a serious accident,is there?” asked Miss Elsie quickly.

“Probably not,” was the young skipper’sreply. “But we don’t know, and can’t, untilwe find out what’s wrong.”

“Oh, we ought to hurry back,” shivered MissElsie. “We ought to get in before there’s anyaccident.”

“Why, provided none of us were drowned, anaccident would be something worth remembering,”laughed Jessie mischievously.

“Jessie Lester, how dare you say so?” demandedher sister, looking somewhat shocked.

“Say,” bawled up the now excited voice ofJoe Dawson, “this is a tough one!”

He showed his worried face at the hatchway, adding:

“The tank’s empty! The last drops of gasolineare running into the motor!”

“What’s that?” demanded Tom aghast.“How could that have happened?”

“I don’t know,” was Joe’s bewilderedresponse. “The tank was half-full whenwe got back from Wood’s Hole early thismorning. But now it’s empty. Look foryourself.”

The propeller shaft made a few faint turns, then stopped. Having little headway by thistime the “Meteor” soon began to drift aimlesslyover the rolling waters.

“I don’t need to look,” Tom answered, droppinghis hand from the wheel “I can seeenough to believe you, Joe. But how on earthcould this have happened, Joe?”

“It didn’t happen without some one tamperingwith the tank,” Joe exploded resentfully.“There’s no leak in the tank. We should, byrights, have oil enough to run to New Yorkand back.”

There being nothing now that he could doin the engine room, Dawson stepped moodily upon deck. The girls watched Captain Tom’sface. Mrs. Lester, her curiosity aroused by thestopping of speed, attempted to come forwardalong the deck. The rolling of the craft madethis so dangerous for her that Jed sprang forward, piloting her safely forward. There thesituation was soon made plain to the frightenedmother.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Tom asked, the glass to hiseyes, as he looked over the rolling waters.“Had our gasoline held out we could have madethe pier with time to spare.”

“Is there real danger, then?” demanded Mrs.Lester, her face betraying her great alarm.

“There’s a northeast blow, and a big one, going to strike us within half an hour,” theyoung skipper replied. “And there’s not acraft in sight I can signal to. Our anchorswouldn’t hold in the blow that’s coming.”

“Can’t you signal the Dunstan place?” askedthe much-alarmed lady.

“Yes, but I doubt if they could see our signals, our mast is so low and the distance sogreat.”

“But they have that steam launch there. Ifyou could make them understand, captain, theycould send the launch out to us.”

“The launch is too small a craft to face theblow that’s coming,” Tom rejoined gravely.“Besides, Mr. Dunstan has no one who knowsanything about handling a marine steam engine.If you ladies will go into the cabin – ”

“And feel like rats in a trap while there’sdanger!” remonstrated Mrs. Lester. “Oh, please don’t ask us to leave the deck. We’ll feelsafer here. At least we shall be able to seewhat’s happening.”

“Get the lifelines, Joe, and rig them quickly,”spoke Tom gravely. “Jed, help me to get theanchors overboard. We’ll do everything wecan.”

While the boys worked like beavers the windcame down upon them with ever-increasingforce. At first the anchors held, the “Meteor”straining at her cables.

“Here comes a squall!” shouted Tom, suddenly.“Catch hold! Hold fast! We’ll soonknow about our anchors.”

As the squall struck, the “Meteor” heeledover. The ladies screamed with fright. Eventhe motor boat boys felt the thrill of dread.The boat rolled as though she were going toturn turtle. Then, slowly, she righted herself.

“One of the cables has parted!” shouted Jed, through the increasing tempest.

Another and heavier squall struck them, again heeling the motor boat over. She rightedherself, but the gale was becoming stronger, and, despite the remaining anchor, the “Meteor”now began to drift toward the lee shoreof Muskeget.

Miss Elsie, deathly white, and clutchingdesperately at the lifelines, began to sob.

“It’s fearful, I know,” spoke Captain Tom, quietly. “But we’ve got to face it and hopefor the best. You were admiring courage awhile ago, but now you can show as much asany man could.”

“You’re right,” Miss Elsie called backthrough the roar of the gale, as she steadiedherself. “Thank you; by pointing out the needof courage you’ve given me much.”

Tom turned to stare, with grave, impassiveface, to leeward. An eighth of a mile off thebeach at Muskeget lay a reef ordinarily sunkenbelow the surface in calm weather. But nowthe waves were dashing over this ledge, showingthe jagged points of the rough stone.

“If a miracle doesn’t happen,” thought theyoung skipper, noting the course of the boat’sdrift, “we’ll wreck there soon, and then there’sa doubt if one of us gets out of it alive!”