The Corner House Girls on a Houseboat

“What sort of boat was it?” he countered.

Neale described it sufficiently well.

“No, those weren’t my boys,” returned the man, while the dog made friends with the visitors, much to the delight of Dot and Tess. “We haven’t any such boat as that. I don’t know who those fellows could be, though of course many people come to this island.”

“I wish we could find out who those men are,” said Mr. Howbridge. “I have peculiar reasons for wanting to know,” he went on.

“I think they call themselves Klondikers, because they have been, or claim to have been, to the Alaskan Klondike,” said Neale. “Do you happen to know any Klondikers around here?”

Somewhat to the surprise of the boy the answer came promptly:

“Yes, I do. A man named O’Neil.”

“What!” exclaimed Neale, starting forward. “Do you know my father? Where is he? Tell me about him!”

“Well, I don’t know that he’s your father,” went on the black-bearded man. “Though, now I recollect, he did say he had a son and he hoped to see him soon. But this O’Neil lives on one of the islands here in the lake. Or at least he’s been staying there the last week. He bought some fish of me, and he said then he’d been to the Klondike after gold.”

“Did he say he got any?” asked Neale.

The man of the cabin shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say so,” he remarked. “Mr. O’Neil had to borrow money of one of my boys to hire a boat. I guess he’s poorer than the general run. He couldn’t have got any gold in the Klondike.”

At this answer Neale’s heart sank, and a worried suspicion crept into his mind. If his father were poor it might explain something that had been troubling the boy of late. Somehow, all the brightness seemed to go out of the day. Neale’s happy prospects appeared very dim now.

“Poor father!” he murmured to himself.

Suddenly, from the lake behind them came some loud shouts, at which the dog began to bark. Then followed a shot, and the animal raced down the slope toward the water.

CHAPTER XXIV – CLOSING IN

“Perhaps these are the men!” exclaimed Ruth to the lawyer.

“What men?” he asked.

“Those tramps – the ones who robbed us in the rain storm that day. If they come here – ”

“What’s the matter?” asked the man of the cabin – Aleck Martin he had said his name was. “What seems to be the trouble with the young lady?” And, as he spoke, gazing at Ruth, the barking of the dog and the shouting grew apace.

“She is excited, thinking the rascals about whom we have been inquiring might now make their appearance,” Mr. Howbridge answered.

“Mr. Martin laughed so heartily that his black beard waved up and down like a bush in the wind, and Dot and Tess watched it in fascination.

“Excuse me, friend,” the dweller in the cabin went on, “but I couldn’t help it. Those are my two boys coming back. They always cut up like that. Seems like the quietness of the lake and this island gets on their nerves sometimes, and they have to raise a ruction. No harm in it, not a bit. Jack, the dog, enjoys it as much as they do.”

This was evident a few moments later, for up the slope came two sturdy young men, one carrying a gun, and the dog was frisking about between the two, having the jolliest time imaginable.

“There are my boys!” said Mr. Martin, and he spoke with pride.

“Oh, will you excuse me?” asked Ruth, in some confusion.

“That’s all right – they do look like tramps,” said their father. “But you can’t wear your best clothes fussing around boats and fish and taking parties out. Well, Tom and Henry, any luck?” he asked the newcomers.

“Extra fine, Dad,” answered one, while both of them stared curiously at the visitors.

“That’s good,” went on Mr. Martin. “These folks,” he added, “were blown ashore last night in their houseboat. They want help to get it off.”

“Will you go and look at her, and then we can make a bargain?” interposed Mr. Howbridge.

“Oh, shucks now, friend, we aren’t always out for money, though we make a living by working for summer folks like you,” said Mr. Martin, smiling.

“Is that your boat over there?” asked one of the young men whose name, they learned later, was Tom.

“Yes,” assented Neale, for the fisherman pointed in the direction of the stranded Bluebird, which, however, could not be seen from the cabin.

“We saw her as we came around,” went on Henry. “I wondered what she was doing up on shore, and we intended to have a look after we tied up our craft.”

“Will you be able to help us get her afloat?” asked Ruth, for she rather liked the healthful, manly appearance of the two young men.

“Sure!” assented their father. “This is that O’Neil man’s son,” he went on, speaking to his boys.

“What, O’Neil; the Klondiker?” asked Tom quickly.

“Yes,” assented Neale. “Can you tell me about him? Where is he? How did he make out in Alaska?”

“Well, he’s on an island about ten miles from here,” was the answer of Henry. “As for making out, I don’t believe he did very well in the gold business, to tell you the truth. He doesn’t say much about it, but I guess the other men got most of it.”

“What other men?” asked Neale, and again his heart sank and that terrible suspicion came back to him.

“Oh, a bunch he is in with,” answered Henry Martin. “They all live together in a shack on Cedar Island. Your father hired a boat of us. I trusted him for it, as he said he had no ready cash. But I reckon it’s all right.”

This only served to make Neale more uneasy. He had been hoping against hope that his father would have found at least a competence in the Klondike.

Now it seemed he had not, and, driven by poverty, he might have adopted desperate measures. Nor did Neale like the remarks about his father being in with a “bunch” of men. True, Mr. O’Neil had been in the circus at one time, and they, of necessity, are a class of rough and ready men. But they are honest, Neale reflected. These other men – if the two who had escaped in the motor boat were any samples – were not to be trusted.

So it was with falling spirits that the boy waited for what was to happen next.

Agnes’ quick mind and ready sympathy guessed Neale’s thoughts.

“It will be all right, Neale O’Neil. You know it will. Your father couldn’t go wrong.”

“You’re a pal worth having, Aggie,” he whispered to the girl.

“I would like to see my father,” he said to the lawyer. “Do you think we could go to Cedar Island in the houseboat?”

“Of course we can!” exclaimed Mr. Howbridge. “We’ll go as soon as we can get her afloat.”

“And that won’t take long; she didn’t seem to be in a bad position,” said Tom. “Come on, we’ll go over now,” he went on, nodding to his father and his brother.

“I have an Alice-doll on the boat,” said Dot, taking a sudden liking to Henry.

“You have?” he exclaimed, taking hold of her hand which she thrust confidingly into his. “Well, that’s fine! I wish I had a doll!”

“Do you?” asked Dot, all smiles now. “Well, I have a lot of ’em at home. There’s Muriel and Bonnie Betty and a sailor boy doll, and Nosmo King Kenway, and then I have twins – Ann Eliza and Eliza Ann, and – ”

“Eliza Ann isn’t a twin any more – anyway not a good twin,” put in Tess. “Both her legs are off!”

“Oh, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Henry sympathetically.

“And if you want a doll, I can give you one of mine,” proceeded Dot. “Only I don’t want to give you Alice-doll ’cause she’s all I have with me. But if you want Muriel – ”

“Muriel has only one eye,” said Tess quickly.

“I think I should love a one-eyed doll!” said the young man, who seemed to know just how to talk to children.

“Then I’ll send her to you!” delightedly offered Dot.

“And I’ll send you one of Almira’s kittens!” said Tess, who did not seem to want her sister to do all the giving.

“Hold on there! Don’t I get anything?” asked Tom, in mock distress.

“Almira’s got a lot of kittens,” said Dot. “Would you like one of them?”

“Well I should say so! If Henry’s going to have a kitten and a doll, I think I ought at least to have a kitten,” he said.

“Well, I’ll send you one,” promised Tess.

And then, with the two children, one in charge of Henry and the other holding Tom’s hand, the trip was made back to where the Bluebird was stranded.

“It won’t be much of a job to get her off,” declared Mr. Martin, when he and his sons had made an expert examination. “Get some long poles, boys, and some blocks, and I think half an hour’s work will do the trick.”

“Oh, shall we be able to move soon?” asked Mrs. MacCall, coming out on deck.

“We hope so,” answered Ruth, as she went on board and told of the visit to the cabin, while Neale hurried to the engine room to see what success Hank had met with. The mule driver had succeeded in getting the monkey wrench out from under the flywheel, and the craft could move under her own power once she was afloat.

“What’s the matter with Neale?” asked Mrs. MacCall, while the men were in the woods getting the poles. “He looks as if all the joy had departed from life.”

“I’m afraid it has, for him,” said Ruth soberly. “It seems that his father is located near here – on Cedar Island – and is poor.”

“Nothing in that to take the joy out of life!” And Mrs. MacCall strode away.

“Well, being poor isn’t anything,” declared Agnes. “Lots of people are poor. We were, before Uncle Peter Stower left us the Corner House.”

“I think Neale fears his father may have had something to do with – Oh, Agnes, I hate to say it, but I think Neale believes his father either robbed us, or knows something about the men who took the jewelry box!”

“But we know it isn’t true!” exclaimed Agnes.

“Anyway, the Klondike trip was a failure.”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Agnes. “Couldn’t we help – ”

“I think we shall just have to wait,” advised her sister. “We can talk to Mr. Howbridge about it after we find out more. I think they are going to move the boat now.”

This task was undertaken, and to such good advantage did Mr. Martin and his sons work, aided, of course, by Neale, Mr. Howbridge and Hank, that the Bluebird was soon afloat again.

“Now we can go on, and when I get back home I’ll send you a doll and a pussy cat!” offered Dot to Henry.

“And I’ll send you two pussy cats!” Tess said to Tom.

The young men laughed, their father joining in.

“How much do I owe you?” asked the lawyer, when it was certain that the houseboat was afloat, undamaged, and could proceed on her way.

“Not a cent!” was the hearty answer of Mr. Martin. “We always help our neighbors up here, and you were neighbors for a while,” he added with a laugh.

“Well, I’m a thousand times obliged to you,” said the guardian of the Corner House girls. “Our trip might have been spoiled if we couldn’t have gone on, though I must say you have a delightful resting spot in this island.”

“We like it here,” admitted the fisherman, while his sons were looking over the houseboat, which they pronounced “slick.”

Neale seemed to have lost heart and spirit. Dot and Tess, of course, did not notice it so much, as there was plenty to occupy them. But to Ruth and Agnes, as well as to Mr. Howbridge, Neale’s dejection was very evident.

“Is the motor all right?” asked the lawyer of Neale, when the Martins had departed with their dog.

“Yes, she runs all right now.”

“Then we might as well head for Cedar Island,” suggested the lawyer. “The sooner you find your father the better.”

“Yes – I suppose so,” and Neale turned away to hide his sudden emotion.

Once more the Bluebird was under way, moving slowly over the sparkling waters of Lake Macopic. All traces of the storm had vanished.

“Mrs. Mac wants to know if we are going to pass any stores,” said Agnes, coming up on deck when the island on which they had been stranded had been left behind.

“We can run over to the mainland if she wants us to,” the lawyer said. “Is it anything important, Agnes?”

“Only some things to eat.”

“Well, that’s important enough!” he laughed. “We’ll stop at that point over there,” and he indicated one. “From there we can make a straight run to Cedar Island. You won’t mind the delay, will you?” he asked Neale, who was steering.

“Oh, no,” was the indifferent answer. “I guess there’s no hurry.”

They all felt sorry for the lad, but decided nothing could be done. Mr. Howbridge admitted, after Ruth had spoken to him, that matters looked black for Mr. O’Neil, but with his legal wisdom the lawyer said:

“Don’t bring in a verdict of guilty until you have heard all the evidence. It is only fair to suspend judgment. It would be cruel to raise Neale’s hopes, only to dash them again, but I am hoping for the best.”

This comforted Ruth and Agnes a little; though of course Agnes, in her loyalty to Neale, did not allow doubt to enter her mind.

The point for which the boat was headed was a little settlement on the lake shore. It was also the center of a summer colony, and was a lively place just at present, this being the height of the season.

At the point were a number of stores, and it was there the supplies for the Scotch housekeeper could be purchased. Ruth and Agnes had made their selections and the things were being put on board when a number of men were observed coming down the long dock.

One of them wore a nickel badge on the outside of his coat, and seemed to have an air of authority. Neale, who had been below helping Hank store away some supplies of oil and gasoline that had been purchased, came out on deck, and, with the girls and Mr. Howbridge, watched the approach of the men.

“Looks like a constable or sheriff’s officer with a posse,” commented Ruth. “It reminds me of a scene I saw in the movies.”

“It is an officer – I know him,” said Mr. Howbridge in a low voice. “He once worked on a case for me several years ago. That’s Bob Newcomb – quite a character in his way. I wonder if he remembers me.”

This point was settled a moment later, for the officer – he with the nickel badge of authority – looked up and his face lightened when he saw the lawyer.

“Well, if it ain’t Mr. Howbridge!” exclaimed Mr. Newcomb. “Well now, sufferin’ caterpillers, this is providential! Is that your boat?” he asked, halting his force by a wave of his hand.

“I may say I control it,” was the answer. “Why do you ask?”

“’Cause then there won’t be no unfriendly feelin’ if I act in the performance of my duty,” went on the constable, for such he was. “I’ll have to take possession of your craft in the name of the law.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Howbridge, rather sharply. “Is this craft libeled? All bills are paid, and I am in legal possession. I have a bill of sale and this boat is to be delivered to a client of mine – ”

“There you go! There you go! Ready to fight at the drop of the hat!” chuckled the constable. “Just like you did before when I worked on that timber land case with you. But there’s no occasion to get roiled up, Mr. Howbridge. I only want to take temporary possession of your boat in the name of the law. All I want to have is a ride for me and my posse. We’re on the business of the law, and you, being a lawyer, know what that means. I call on you, as a good citizen, to aid, as I’ve got a right to do.”

“I recognize that,” said the lawyer, now smiling, and glancing at Ruth and the others to show everything was all right. “But what’s the game?”

“Robbery’s the game!” came the stern answer. “We’re going to round up and close in on a band of tramps, robbers and other criminals! They have a camp on an island, and they’ve been robbin’ hen roosts and doin’ other things in this community until this community has got good and sick of it. Then they called in the law – that’s me and my posse,” he added, waving his hand toward the men back of him. “The citizens called in the law, represented by me, and I am going to chase the rascals out!”

“Very good,” assented Mr. Howbridge. “I’m willing to help, as all good citizens should. But what am I to do? Where do I come in?”

“You’re going to lend us that boat,” said Constable Newcomb. “It’s the only large one handy just now, and we don’t want to lose any time. As soon as I saw you put into the dock I made up my mind I’d commandeer the craft. That’s the proper term, ain’t it?” he asked.

“Yes,” assented the lawyer, smiling, “I believe it is. So you want to commandeer the Bluebird.”

“To take me and my posse over to Cedar Island, and there to close in on a bunch of Klondikers!” went on the constable, and Neale, hearing it, gave a startled cry.

“Anybody on board that’s afraid to come may stay at home,” said the constable quickly. “I mean they can get off the boat. But we’ve got to have the craft to get to the island. Now then, Mr. Howbridge, will you help?”

“Certainly. As a matter of law I have to,” answered the lawyer slowly.

“And will you help, and you?” went on the constable, looking in turn at Neale and Hank, who were on deck. “I call upon you in the name of the law.”

“Yes, they’ll help,” said Mr. Howbridge quickly. “Don’t object or say anything,” he added to Neale in a low voice. “Leave everything to me!”

“Fall in! Get on board! We’ll close in on the rascals!” cried the constable, very well pleased that he could issue orders.

Neale’s heart was torn with doubts.

CHAPTER XXV – THE CAPTURE

Constable Newcomb and his posse disposed themselves comfortably aboard the Bluebird, and, at a nod from Mr. Howbridge, Neale rang the bell to tell Hank to throw in the gear clutch and start the boat.

The girls, much to Agnes’ dissatisfaction, had been left ashore, since there was likely to be rough work arresting the “Klondikers,” as the constable called the tramps on Cedar Island. Mrs. MacCall stayed with them.

They had disembarked at the point dock and when the boat pulled off went to the hotel there to await the return of their friends.

“Now, Mr. Newcomb, perhaps you can explain what it’s all about,” suggested the lawyer to the constable, when they sat on deck together, near Neale at the steering wheel. The lawyer made the boy a signal to say nothing, but to listen.

“Well, this is what it’s about,” was the answer. “As I told you, a parcel of tramps – Klondikers they call themselves because, I understand, some of ’em have been in Alaska. Anyhow a parcel of tramps are living on Cedar Island. They’ve been robbing right and left, and the folks around here are tired of it. So a complaint was made and I’ve got a lot of warrants to arrest the men.”

“Do you know any of their names?” asked the lawyer.

“No, all the warrants are made out in the name of John Doe. That’s legal, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” assented Mr. Howbridge. “And how many do you expect to arrest?”

“Oh, about half a dozen. Two of ’em have a motor boat, I understand, but they had an accident in the storm last night and can’t navigate. That’s the reason we’re going over there now – they can’t get away!”

“Good!” exclaimed Mr. Howbridge. “I fancy, Mr. Newcomb, I may be able to add another complaint to the ones you already have, if two of the men turn out to be the characters we suspect.”

“Why, have they been robbing your hen roost, too?” asked the constable.

“No, but two of my wards, Ruth and Agnes Kenway, were robbed of a box of jewelry just before we started on this trip,” said the lawyer. “Two rough men held them up in a hallway on a rainy morning and snatched a jewel box. The men were tramps – and the day before that two men who called themselves Klondikers had looked at vacant rooms in the house where the robbery occurred. Since then the girls think they have seen the same tramps several times. I hope you can round them up.”

“We’ll get ’em if they’re on Cedar Island!” the constable declared. “Got your guns, boys?” he asked the members of his posse.

Each one had, it seemed, and the nervous tension grew as the island was neared. Hank drove the Bluebird at her best speed, which, of course, was not saying much, for she was not a fast craft. But gradually the objective point came into view.

“It’s just as well not to have too fast a boat,” the constable said. “If the Klondikers saw it coming they might jump in the lake and swim away. They won’t be so suspicious of this.”

“Perhaps not,” the lawyer assented. But he could not help thinking how tragic it would be if it should happen that Neale’s father was among those captured. Neale himself guided the houseboat on her way.

“Put her around into that cove,” Constable Newcomb directed the youth at the wheel, when the island was reached.

Silently the Bluebird floated into a little natural harbor and was made fast to the bank.

“All ashore now, and don’t make any noise,” ordered the officer. “They haven’t spotted us yet, I guess. We may surround ’em and capture ’em without any trouble.”

“Let us hope so,” said Mr. Howbridge. “Have they some sort of house or headquarters?”

“They live in a shack or two,” the constable replied. “It’s in the middle of the island. I’d better lead the way,” he went on, and he placed himself at the head of his men.

“Don’t make any outcry or any explanation if your father is among these men,” said Mr. Howbridge to Neale, as the two walked on behind the posse. This was the first direct reference to the matter the lawyer had made.

“I’ll do whatever you say,” assented Neale listlessly.

“It may all be a mistake,” went on the lawyer sympathetically. “We will not jump at conclusions.”

Hank had been sworn in as a special deputy, and was with the other men who pressed on through the woods after Constable Newcomb.

Suddenly the leader halted, and his men did likewise.

“Something’s up!” called Mr. Howbridge to Neale. They went on a little farther and saw, in a clearing, a small cabin. There was no sign of life about it.

“I guess they’re in there,” said the constable in a low tone to his men. “The motor boat’s at the dock, and so is the rowboat, so they’re on the island. Close in, men!” he suddenly cried.

There was a rush toward the cabin, and Mr. Howbridge and Neale followed. The door was burst in and the constable and his posse entered.

Three men were asleep in rude bunks, and they sat up bleary-eyed and bewildered at the unexpected rush.

“Wot’s matter?” asked one, thickly.

“You’re under arrest!” exclaimed the constable. “In the name of the law I arrest you! I’m the law!” he went on, tapping his nickel shield.

One of the men made a dart for a window, as though to get out, but he was knocked back by a deputy, and in a few seconds all three men were secured.

Neale, who had pressed into the cabin as soon as possible, looked with fast-beating heart into the faces of the three tramps. To his great relief none was his father.

“Now, what’s all this about?” growled one of the men. “What’s the game?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” declared the constable. “Are either of these the men you spoke of?” he asked the lawyer.

“Yes, those two are the ones that several times went off in a hurry in the motor boat,” said Mr. Howbridge. “But I can not identify them as the ones who took the jewelry. Ruth and Agnes Kenway will have to do that.”

As he spoke the two men looked at him. One shook his head and the other exclaimed:

“It’s all up. They got us right!”

“Come on now lively, men!” cried Constable Newcomb. “Search this place, gather up what evidence you can, and we’ll take ’em to jail.”

“Are there any others?” asked Neale, hoping against hope as the men were taken outside the shack and the search was begun.

“I guess we have the main ones, anyhow,” answered Mr. Newcomb. “Oh, look at this bunch of stuff!” he cried, as he threw back the dirty blankets of one of the bunks. “They’ve been robbing right and left.”

It was a heterogeneous collection of articles, and at the sight of one box Mr. Howbridge exclaimed:

“There it is! The jewelry case I gave Miss Ruth! These men were either the thieves or they know something about the robbery. See if anything is left in the box.”

It was quickly opened, and seen to contain a number of rings, pins, and trinkets.

“Well, there’s a good part of it,” the lawyer remarked. “It will need Ruth and Agnes to tell just what is missing.”

Mr. Howbridge and Neale were watching the constable and his men finish the search of the cabin, while others of the posse had taken the prisoners to the boat, when suddenly into the shack came another man, whose well-worn clothing would seem to proclaim him as one of the “Klondikers.”