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

“Say, Jed, what made you look so skittishwhen you boarded that other boat?” asked theyoung skipper, smiling. “Were you reallyafraid?”

“Afraid?” repeated Jed, looking sheepish.“Well, Tom, I’ll tell you how it is. Whenthere’s no danger near, and I’m thinking overbrave deeds, I’m a regular hero, and no mistake.But when I get right down where I thinksome one may be a going to open on me withboth barrels of a shotgun, then I get – well, Iwon’t say afraid, but tormentingly nervous!”

Halstead laughed heartily.

“I guess that’s the way with the whole humanrace, Jed. The man who lugs off the reputationfor being brave is the man who won’t run, because he is ashamed to let anyone see howmortally afraid he is.”

“But what do you make of Ted Dunstan’squeer talk?” asked Jed Prentiss. “Do you believehis father really did give him orders togo off with that crowd?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Halstead answered.“Mr. Dunstan is our employer.”

“But young Ted always has been a mightytruthful boy,” pursued Jed, wonderingly. “Oh,it’s all mighty queer, whatever’s the truth.”

“I guess we’d better let it go at that laststatement,” proposed Tom; “at least, untilwe’ve heard what Mr. Dunstan has to say.”

With three or four caps of coffee down, Halsteadfelt so much warmer that he returnedto deck to take the wheel. The “Meteor” wasnecessarily going much more slowly than usual, with her tow astern. The trip was bound tobe such a long one that Jed started things inthe galley, then went back through the passagewayto the cabin, where he set the folding tablewith a white cloth. When Lawyer Craneseated himself at supper he was astonished tofind how excellent a meal could be preparedin short time aboard this craft.

It was nearing dark when Captain Halsteadguided the “Meteor” in toward the Dunstanpier.

While the boat was being made fast by Joeand Jed, Mr. Crane stepped hurriedly ashore.

“Come along, Captain Halstead,” said theman of law. “Mr. Dunstan must hear yourremarkable story without a moment’s delay.”

CHAPTER XI – WHERE THE WATER TRAIL ENDED

Horace Dunstan, pausing in his excitedwalk in his library, stopped andstared in amazement when Tom cameto one point of his strange recital.

“Ted said I gave him instructions to go withthat crowd?” he demanded.

“He made that point extremely plain to me, sir,” Halstead insisted.

“But I – I never gave him any such instructions,”cried Mr. Dunstan, rumpling his hair.

“It seemed unbelievable, sir. And yet yourson struck me as a truthful boy.”

“He is; he always was,” retorted the father.“Ted hated a lie or a liar, and yet this statementis wholly outside of the truth. I assureyou – ”

“If you’ll permit me, sir,” broke in the lawyer, who had been listening silently up to thispoint, “I’ll indicate one or two points at whichyoung Halstead’s most remarkable – ”

“Crane,” broke in the master of the house, with unlooked-for sternness, “if you’re aboutto throw any doubt around Tom Halstead’sstory, I may as well tell you plainly that you’regoing a little too far. Halstead has been mostthoroughly vouched for to me. If you haveany notion in your mind that he has been yarningto us, I beg you to let the idea remain inyour mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Hm!” said the lawyer, and subsided.

“Captain Halstead,” went on Ted’s father,“my son’s statement is so extraordinary that Idon’t pretend to fathom it. But I give youmy word, as a man of honor, that I am as muchat sea in this matter as anyone could be. ButI must get in touch with Wood’s Hole at once.”

There was a telephone instrument in theroom that speedily put the distracted father incommunication with one of his detectives overon the mainland. A long talk followed, theupshot of it being that the detective in chargeof the search asked that the “Meteor” be sentover to Wood’s Hole at once, that she mightbe ready for any sea-going following-up of cluesthat might be necessary.

“For, of course, we’ve got to find that cabinsloop,” finished Detective Musgrave. “If thesloop isn’t at sea, then the chase undoubtedlymust be followed on the mainland. If we havethe ‘Meteor’ here we can do quickly anythingthat may appear necessary.”

So Tom received his instant sailing orders.As he hurried from the house, down throughthe grounds, the young skipper felt relieved atone point. With his belief in Ted’s honesty hehad been inclined to suspect that Horace Dunstan, for some unknown reasons of his own, such, for instance, as a distaste for having hisson go into the Army, might have brought abouta pretended disappearance.

“But now I know,” muttered Tom, “thatMr. Dunstan is just as honest in his declarationsas Ted appeared to be in saying the opposite.If Horace Dunstan has been lying to mejust now, I’d have very little further faith inhuman honesty.”

The “Meteor” was speedily on her way.First Joe, and then Tom, was served in the littlegalley, Jed getting in his mouthfuls as besthe could before the motor boat was tied up atWood’s Hole.

Before Tom had time to land a keen-eyed, smooth-faced man of thirty-five, broad-shoulderedand a little above medium height, steppedforward out of the darkness and over the rail.

“Do you know me, Captain Halstead?” heasked, in a low voice.

“Yes, I think so,” Tom answered. “You’reMr. Musgrave, one of the detectives sent downfrom New York at Mr. Dunstan’s request.”

“I am in charge of the case at this point,”said Musgrave. “Lead me below.”

Tom conducted his caller down into the engine-room, thence through the passageway intothe cabin.

“Now, tell me all you can of this affair, andtalk as quickly as you can,” directed the detective.

Tom told his brief but potent narrative withoutpausing for breath.

“I have telegraphed or telephoned men fromour agency, so that many points are coveredfor some distance north along the coast,” murmuredMr. Musgrave. “We are also havingthe islands watched as far around as BlockIsland. But, since the launch was found runningwild and the cabin sloop was not sighted,I am inclined to believe that the trail runs somewhereon the mainland. If you’ll take yourfriend, Joe Dawson, along with you, I’ll sendalso one of the Wood’s Hole constables, a mannamed Jennison. If you run into any of thatcrew, Jennison has power to make arrests, andhe’s the sort of man who wouldn’t back downbefore a cannon. I have an automobile ready, and Jennison knows what’s expected of him.You’re to search up along the coast, to see ifyou can find any trace of that cabin sloop.”

“Do you think Jed Prentiss will be sufficientguard to leave with the boat?” questioned Halstead.“The Alvarez crowd would like nothingbetter than to disable this fine craft if theygot a chance to sneak aboard.”

“I’ll send down one of the hotel employés tokeep Prentiss company, then. Now come along,Halstead. Jennison and the automobile arewaiting.”

Two minutes later Tom and Joe found themselvesspeeding along a road that led up alongthe coast.

“There’s no use stopping the first mile or so,”explained Constable Jennison, a slight but wiry-lookingman of rustic type. “We’ve been overthe near ground already. But we’ll go fortymiles or more before we give up the search forthe home berth of that sloop.”

Just below Falmouth the auto-car turnedfrom the road to run down to a cove whereseveral sailing craft and two launches were atanchor. The owner was found. He did notown or know of any such sloop as Halstead described.

On again they went. There was a chauffeuron the front seat The constable and the boyswere in the tonneau. Two more boat-letting resortswere visited, but without success. The constable, however, far from being depressed, becamejovial.

“Are you armed, Halstead?” he inquired, atwinkle in his eyes.

“No; I have no use for boys that carryguns,” replied Tom.

“You’re sensible enough,” responded theconstable seriously. Then, resuming his banteringtone, he went on:

“But you ought to be ready for anything to-night.Here, put this in your pocket.”

“What’s this thing supposed to be good for?”Tom demanded dryly, as he took from the officera cheap little bronze toy pistol. It was modeledafter a business-like revolver, but a glanceshowed that it was meant only to explode papercaps.

“It belongs to my five-year-old boy,” laughedJennison. “He knows that I often carry apistol and he doesn’t know the difference betweena real one and his Fourth of July toy.So to-night, when I was leaving the house, heinsisted on my taking his pistol and I had toin order to keep him quiet.”

“It looks dangerous enough in the dark,” remarkedJoe, bending over and taking the“weapon” with a laugh. He looked it over, then returned it to Tom, who, in turn, offeredit to the officer.

“Drop it in your pocket,” said the latter. “Itought to make you feel braver to feel such athing next to your body.”

With a laugh Tom did as urged. The automobilesoon made another stop at a boatyard.Here, again, the search was useless, so they kepton. A fourth was visited with no better result.They were now ten miles from Wood’s Hole, butthey kept on. A mile further on the car descendeda low hill, toward the water, then turnedalmost at right angles. Just as they roundedthis bend in the road Halstead leaned suddenlyforward.

“Stop!” he called to the chauffeur.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jennison, as thecar halted.

“As we came around the bend the searchlightthrew a ray between the trees, and I’m sureI saw a cabin sloop down in the offing,” Tomexplained.

“I didn’t see it.”

“And I got only a brief glimpse,” Halsteadrejoined. “But don’t you think it’s worth ourwhile to get out and go down to the water’sedge?”

“Of course,” nodded the constable. Thethree piled out of the tonneau, leaving the chauffeuralone. Tom led the way, going straightbetween the trees down to the water.

“That’s the very sloop, I’d almost swear,”whispered Tom, pointing to a craft at anchora hundred yards or so from shore. A smallboat lay hauled up on the beach. Not far fromwhere the three stood was a ramshackle littleshanty from which no light shone.

“We’ll give our attention to the house, first,”declared the constable. Accordingly theystepped up to the door, Jennison knockingloudly. From inside came a snore. The summonshad to be repeated before a voice insidedemanded:

“Who’s there? What’s wanted?”

“A traveler who wants to speak with you,”replied the officer.

There were sounds inside. Then the dooropened. They were confronted by a white-hairedold man, partly dressed and holding alighted lantern. He made a venerable pictureas he stood there in the doorway.

“Well?” he asked.

“That’s your sloop out in the offing?” Jennisonasked.

“Yes.”

“Did you use her to-day?”

“No; I rented her to a stranger, who wantedto go fishing. I didn’t know he had returned.Said he might be out most of the night, and thesloop wasn’t back when I turned in at dark.”

“Wasn’t, eh?” asked the constable, with quickinterest. “Now will you tell me what thestranger looked like?”

“Why, he was about forty-five, I guess.Rather heavily built. His skin was well-bronzed – ”

“That’s the man, French,” whispered Tom, nudging the officer. “His face had been staineda good bronze color.”

“Did the stranger give any word about comingback at some other time?” asked Jennison.

“No; he paid me for the afternoon and theevening,” replied the old man. It was plainthat he had told all he knew about the stranger.The old man stated that he himself was a fisherman, but that in summer he often made moremoney taking out parties of summer boarders.

Joe, in the meantime, had gone down to thebeach to watch the sloop. There appeared tobe no one stirring aboard the craft, but, as aprecaution, Jennison and the boys rowed out, thus making sure that the sloop was deserted.They hurriedly returned to shore. Jennisonnow displayed his badge, asking permission tolook into the shanty. The old man readily gavethe permission, adding, somewhat shakily:

“I’m not used to having my house suspected, but I’m glad to give the law’s officer any privilegeshe may want here.”

The search was unavailing. Jennison and hisyoung companions hastened back to the automobilewhere they stood deliberating.

“That sloop has come in since dark,” observedHalstead. “That old man looks asthough he could be thoroughly believed. Yetthat’s the very sloop. I’m positive about that.So the rascals can’t have had much the start ofus.”

“They’re a needle in the haystack, now, anyway,”sighed Constable Jennison. “We’re atthe end of the water trail and we know wherethey landed.”

“But we also know that they’re on the mainland;at least it looks mighty certain,” suggestedTom Halstead.

“That’s true,” nodded the officer. “Well,Mr. Musgrave must know of this at once. Thenext village is less than three miles away. I’mgoing there in the auto as fast as I can andtelephone him.”

“You’ll come back this way?” hinted Tom.

“Yes, without a doubt.”

“Then leave us here. We’ll hunt for anysigns we can find of them while you’re gone.”

“But how’ll I find you on my return?”

“Why, if you stop here, and honk your horntwice, we’ll come running to you.”

“You might run into the rascals,” mused Jennison.

“I hope we do,” muttered Tom.

“See here,” demanded the officer curiously,“aren’t you boys afraid to take a chance likethis?” His glance fell on Joe Dawson.

“No,” returned Joe very quietly.

“Well, it may not be a bad idea to leave youhere until I return,” said Jennison briskly.“You may pick up some sign. Anyway, I hopeyou don’t get into any trouble. Good-by for afew minutes.”

The car sped out of sight, but neither boywaited to watch it.

“It’s a pretty fair guess, Joe,” said Tom,“that Alvarez and French came up this wayfrom the shore. Now, that way, the road leadsto Wood’s Hole. And there’s the opposite direction.Alvarez has a little foot like a woman’s;French has a very large foot. Now if we canfind two such foot marks together, it wouldlook as though we could find the direction ourmen have taken. Have you any matches?”

“Plenty,” Dawson replied.

“So have I. Then suppose you go that way,”pointing toward Wood’s Hole. “And I’ll gothe other way. We can light matches every twoor three hundred feet and examine the ground.One of us may pick up the trail we want tofind.”

“Good enough,” was all that came from quietJoe, as he started at once.

For a few minutes the boys could see eachother’s lights when matches were struck. Thenthe winding of the road hid them from eachother.

Twice the young skipper had found imperfectfootprints in the sandy road, but they were notclear enough for him to be sure that these werethe tracks he sought. Now Tom stopped again, striking a match and walking slowly along ashe shielded the flame from the light breeze withhis hands. Then suddenly he came to a briefhalt, as his gaze traveled across the road. Hesaw an object on the ground in front of a bush,an object that caused him to bound across theroad.

“Great! Fine!” breathed the boy jubilantly.“I’d know this little article anywhere. It’s thetobacco pouch of – ”

“Ah, good evening, my friend,” broke in ataunting voice. “It’s the meddling boy himself!”

Halstead, even before he could straighten up, found himself staring between the branches ofthe bush into a pair of gleaming, mocking eyes.

“Señor Alvarez!” cried the young skipper.

Then something struck Tom heavily from behind, felling him to the ground, unconscious.

CHAPTER XII – JOB HAS HIS COURAGE TESTED

When young Halstead next knew anythinghis mind was hazy at first.He realized dimly, and then moreclearly, that he was upon some one’s shoulder, being carried. There was a buzzing, too, overhis right ear, where his head throbbed dully andached.

As he opened his eyes wider he saw that hewas being carried along under trees and overrising ground.

Then his thoughts became clearer and he feltcertain it was none other than Captain JonasFrench who was carrying him. Some one else, probably Alvarez, was treading the ground behindhim.

Halstead gave a sigh, then murmured:

“Put me down!”

They were luckless words, for French ventedbut the one syllable, “Right,” then droppedhim to the ground and sat on him.

“Don’t make the mistake of trying to makeany noise, either,” growled the once florid-facedone. “No one could hear you here except us, but we’ll take noise as an evidence of unkinddisposition on your part.”

“Tie him,” murmured Don Emilio, standingover the boy.

Without making any response in words,French rolled the boy over on his face. Tomdidn’t attempt to resist. He was too weak; hisstrength was just beginning to come back.French knotted a rope around his wrists, heldbehind him, then quickly lashed the young skipper’sankles together.

“And this!” insisted Alvarez. A gag composedof two handkerchiefs was forced betweenHalstead’s lips and made fast there.

“Now, my meddling boy, you may be as unpleasantas you please,” mocked Don EmilioAlvarez, bending over and smiling into Halstead’sface. “Ah, you have been troublesometo us – very. And you have inquired what Iwould do to you if I had you down in Honduras, where they do things differently. Ah, well!Perhaps, my meddling boy, you shall discoverwhat I would do to you! Will you, my largefriend, lift him and carry him on again? Weare not far from the place where we can keephim securely enough.”

With a grunt French once more shoulderedhis burden, tramping on through the forest, Alvarezstill bringing up the rear. Then, from thecrest of a rise they pressed between a fringe ofbushes and next began to descend a narrow, rocky path. They stopped in a ravine, denselygrown with trees.

“Even in the daytime this place is hardlylikely to be found by prying eyes,” laughed Alvarezconfidently. “And now, my captain, youmight rid yourself of the meddling boy.”

French dropped Tom at the base of a youngspruce tree, knotting another cord to his feetand passing it around the trunk of the tree.

“He won’t get away – can’t, even though wewere to leave him here through the night,” mutteredFrench gruffly.

“And I, since my meddling boy found for methe tobacco pouch that I dropped in his path forbait, will enjoy a smoke once more,” laughedSeñor Alvarez. He rolled a cigarette, whichhe soon was puffing. French, having filled a pipe, lighted that and stretched himself at full length.Thus several minutes went by. Tom Halstead, unable to talk, spent his energies in wonderingwhether Ted Dunstan was anywhere in the nearneighborhood.

After many minutes had passed the deep silenceof this wild spot was broken by an owlhoot. Alvarez, raising his head, answered by asimilar hoot. Then from the distance came twohoots.

“Come, we will go forward to meet ourfriends,” proposed the swarthy little maneagerly, as he sprang to his feet. French gotup more lumberingly, though almost as quickly.Together they trod up to the head of the ravine.Out of the darkness ahead came Pedro and alittle brown man who looked as much like aSpaniard as Alvarez did.

“We’se done brought yo’ dis,” stated Pedrowith a grin that showed his big, white teeth.

“This” was Joe Dawson, his hands tied behindhim, his face as sullen as a storm cloud ina summer shower. Joe was walking, led byPedro, and pushed at times by the brown man.

“Ho, ho!” laughed Alvarez, in keen relish.“You have not done badly. You bring me theother meddling boy. Halt him here – so. Tiehim against this tree that he may have a chanceto lean.” Alvarez watched until Joe had beenmoored fast, then asked:

“How many did you come out with to-night?”

“Guess!” proposed Joe pleasantly.

“Don’t dare to be impertinent, boy!” warnedDon Emilio, his eyes flashing. “Answer mestraight, and – what do you call it? – to thepoint, as you Americans say.”

“Lemon?” laughed Joe Dawson coolly. “No, thank you. I always take vanilla.”

“Boy, if you get me any more angry,”stormed Don Emilio, “you will regret it.”

But Dawson merely looked at the swarthy, false-bearded little man with an air of boredom.

“Let me handle him,” proposed JonasFrench, stepping forward.

“I’ll be glad if you will wait on me,” drawledJoe, looking at the larger man. “I don’t believethis little fellow knows his business orhis goods.”

With an angered cry Don Emilio darted in, striking his cool tormentor across the face.

“Hold on,” objected Joe lazily, “I didn’t askto be called until nine o’clock.”

“Are you going to stop this nonsense?”demanded Don Emilio, his voice quavering withwrath.

“Dawson,” remarked French, “you don’t appearto realize your fix.”

Joe stared at him haughtily, remarking:

“My bill is not due until the end of the week.Go away and let me read in peace.”

Pedro, in the background, was holding onehand over his broad mouth to hide his expansivegrin over this cool nonsense. But DonEmilio was fast losing his not very certain temper.

“Go and bring that other boy Halstead,”ordered Alvarez. “When the two of them seeeach other they’ll know their game is up, andthey’ll come to their senses. If not, nothingwill make any difference to them after a fewminutes more.”

Without a word French turned, treadingdown the ravine. Just a little later he reappeared, looking bewildered.

“Alvarez,” he gasped, “come here. Thatother boy isn’t where we left him. Hurry!”

Uttering an exclamation of amazement, Alvarezdarted after his friend. Pedro and thelittle brown man, caught in the astonishment, bolted after their leaders.

Joe could not get away from the tree to whichhe was bound, but he stood there grinning withcool enjoyment. In another moment he felt alively sound at his back. Then Halstead whisperedin his ear:

“I’m cutting you loose, old fellow! Boltwith me!”

Dawson, straining at the cords while Tomslashed at them, was quickly free.

“Come along,” begged Tom. “Never mindstopping to leave cards or writing a note of regret.Hustle – this way!”

Halstead led in the swift flight in the directionthat he judged the roads to lie. They triedto go noiselessly, but they had not gone far whena shout behind showed them that their flighthad been detected.

“Sprint, old chum!” floated back over Halstead’sshoulder.

In looking back, the young skipper stumbled.Joe had to pause long enough to drag his comradeto his feet. That lost them a few preciousseconds, but they dashed onward once more.As they ran they heard the feet of the pursuersbehind. From greater familiarity with theground some of those in chase were gaining onthe fugitives.

Joe now led in the chase, with Tom at hisheels. They, came to what appeared to be thewooded slope leading down to the road. Joeran up against a wall almost sooner than he hadexpected. He nearly fell over it, but recoveredand jumped. Halstead landed in the roadbeside him.

There was another flying figure in the air, and Pedro was beside them, reaching out. Behindwere French and Don Emilio.

“Yo better stop, fo’ shuah!” called Pedro, parting his lips in a grin of huge enjoyment.“Dere ain’t no use in tryin’ to git away from me.”

CHAPTER XIII – A CAPTURE IN RECORD TIME

“Look out! He’s mine!” shouted Joe.

But Tom Halstead had sprung inthe same instant at Pedro. The resultwas that the combined assault of the boys borethe fellow to the ground, and Tom, remembering, just in the nick of time, the toy cap pistolthat Jennison had handed him, and which hadescaped discovery a few minutes before, hauledthat ridiculous “weapon” out, pressing itagainst the temple of the black man.

“Don’t you stir, if you know what’s best foryou,” warned the young skipper sternly.

Joe, seeing the lay of the land, leaped up tomeet Captain French, who was just reachingthat wall.

At that moment the noise of a speeding autowas borne to them, while around the bendwhizzed the machine, sending its strong searchlightray ahead to illumine the scene.

The yells of its occupants caused the otherpursuers of the boys to halt in confusion. Beforethey had time to think what to do the automobilewas racing up to the spot and stopping.Alvarez and his two companions bore away upthe wooded slope as fast as their alarm couldspur them.

“What’s this going on here?” demanded ConstableJennison, as he leaped out into the road.

“You’ll find some of the rascals up thereamong the trees,” replied Tom, coolly. “Ihave one of ’em here, but he’s tame now.”