Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast; or, Through Storm and Stress to Florida

And now the work began in earnest. They had to fight for every foot they won against the combined forces of wind and wave. Had they been a mile or so further out in the sound, so that the seas had a better chance to become monstrous, nothing could have saved any of them. And Jack's chums once again had reason to be thankful for the far-seeing qualities which their commodore developed when he changed their course, and headed into the teeth of the coming gale.

At least several things favored them now. George's boat seemed to be behaving wonderfully well, for one thing. Then again, after that first swoop the gale had slackened somewhat in intensity, as is frequently the case; though presently they could expect it to become more violent than ever, when it caught its second wind, as Jerry expressed it.

Then, another hopeful thing was the fact that with every yard passed over they were really getting the benefit of drawing closer to the shore that was serving as a sort of shield from the wind.

The seas too gradually declined, since there was lacking the water necessary to build them up.

Jack had one thing to worry over. He knew that on such occasions considerable water would be swept from the western side of the sound, and this was apt to send the boats aground unless luck favored them. Such a condition would keep them from going further in any great distance, since the risk of striking became too pronounced.

"It's all right, Jimmy!" he called to his helper, knowing how anxious the latter must necessarily be; "we've got to a point now where we're safe. We could even drop our mudhooks over right here, and ride it out, if we wanted. But it's better to go on a little further."

"Whoo! wasn't the same a scorcher, though?" Jimmy shouted, a sickly grin coming over his good-natured, freckled face.

"It was some wind, I'm thinking," Jack admitted. "I wasn't a bit afraid about the Tramp or the Comfort, but there's no telling what that trick boat, Wireless, will do, when you don't expect it. But everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high."

"Sure it will, if ever ye get a sight on one with that bully little gun; and it was poor hungry Nick I heard sayin', by the same token, that he liked roast goose better than anything in the woide worrld except oysters!"

Ten minutes later and Jack blew a blast upon his conch shell horn that told the others they were to come to anchor. Whereupon there was more or less hustling, as the crews got busy.

Presently the three little motor boats rode buoyantly to their anchors, bobbing up and down on the rolling waves like ducks bowing to each other. And as they had made out to select positions within the safety zone of each other, it was possible for those aboard to hold conversations, if they but chose to elevate their voices more or less, in order to be heard above the shrieking wind and dashing waves.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE WIRELESS AS TRICKY AS EVER

"We're in for a bad night, Jack!" called George, some time later on; while poor Nick hung over the side of the wobbling speed boat, and looked forlorn indeed.

"You are, in that contraption, George; but the rest of us don't give a hang whether the old storm holds on or not. We expect to get busy cooking supper right soon now, as these bully little Juwel stoves will burn, no matter how the boats jump up and down."

"Oh! I wish Herb would only open his heart, and invite me to spend the night on board the good reliable old Comfort!" groaned Nick.

"Sure! Come right along; plenty of room for three here. George can tuck in, too, if he says the word," called Herb, cheerily.

"What! desert my boat in time of need? What do you take me for?" cried George, with a great show of righteous indignation; but as for Nick, he became so excited, Jack feared he would jump in, and try to swim across.

By letting out more cable George was enabled to swing his boat close enough to the big craft to allow of Josh seizing hold; and while he thus held on clumsy Nick managed to crawl aboard, though he came within an ace of taking a bath, and would have done so, only that Herb gave him a helping hand.

Then George pulled back again to his former position. If he felt that he was making something of a martyr of himself, in thus determining to stick by the madly plunging Wireless all night, George was too proud to indicate as much. He might suffer all sorts of discomforts, and never breathe a word of complaint.

But the storm proved short-lived after all.

Before they began to think of making up their beds the wind had slackened in violence, and the clouds showed signs of breaking. Indeed, as Jack pulled the blanket over him, he could see that the moon was peeping out from behind the black curtains overhead.

"It'll be a fairly decent night after all, Jimmy," he muttered; but as there was no answer, he took it for granted that his mate had passed into slumberland by the short route; indeed, Jimmy had a faculty for getting to sleep almost as soon as his head touched his pillow, which in this case was an inflated rubber one.

And as the night wore on, the tossing of the boats became less and less, until along about three in the morning Jack, chancing to awaken, found that the little Tramp lay perfectly quiet on the bosom of the big sound.

He could see out, and looking toward the southeast beheld the glow of that great beacon marking the position of the most stormy cape along the whole Atlantic coast – Hatteras.

In the morning they were not long in getting under way, as soon as breakfast had been hurried through with, and Nick had to get aboard his own boat again, for his services were needed by his skipper.

Across the sound they sped at a clipping rate, heading direct for the sandy spit where the lighthouse stands. The roar of the ocean beating against that barrier that has kept it out for ages came strongly to their ears, as the breeze changed with the turn of the tide.

Landing among the sand dunes near the light, they paid a visit to the keeper, and met with a cordial reception. As a rule strangers are not allowed to trespass upon Government property; but such a fine lot of lads seemed to appeal to the heart of the keeper, who took them up to the top of the tower, in order to let them have a view of what lay before them to the south.

They listened to his stories of famous wrecks that had strewn the neighboring beaches with dismembered portions of gallant ships and steamers for fifty years; and looking out on the ocean to where the treacherous reefs lay, waiting for fresh victims, Jack could easily picture the tragic scenes that were being described, even though at that time the sun chanced to be shining brightly, and the sea fairly smooth.

Then again a start was made, for some difficult cruising lay ahead before they could hope to reach Beaufort, where a little rest would be taken, in order to carry out the promise they had made the young aviator, Malcolm Spence.

They had heard ugly stories about Hatteras Inlet. It was said to have treacherous currents, and to abound in fierce man-eating sharks. Hence George became more or less concerned as they bore down upon it on this same morning.

But like a good many other things in this world, the expectation of trouble proved to be of far greater proportions than the actual experience. Why, they passed over without the slightest difficulty. Even Nick shouted in great glee when the dreaded inlet was a thing of the past, and he waved his fat hand disdainfully back toward it as they sped away.

"It was dead easy, fellows!" he exclaimed. "Why, I just shut my eyes, and counted twenty. Then, when I opened them again, we were across!" and Nick hardly knew why his innocent confession of alarm was greeted by such uproarious shouts.

"But the sharks were there, all roight, beca'se I saw the muttherin' critters pokin' their ould fins out of the wather!" declared Jimmy.

"That's right, I saw the same," admitted Herb.

The next crossing would be at Ocracoke Inlet. And then beyond that they would come to Portsmouth, where mail from home might be expected, since they had laid out a regular plan whereby those so dear to their boyish hearts – the home folks – could communicate with the wanderers. And at each place Jack, or one of the others, left word to have all delayed mail forwarded on.

"Sure we do be getting closer all the while to that same ould Beaufort, where ye expect to discover the gintleman by the name of Van Arsdale Spence," Jimmy was remarking, as the flotilla moved majestically on in one-two-three order, the Wireless leading for the time being.

"We ought to get there some time tomorrow," Jack answered. "Tonight the plan is to camp on Cedar Island, and that is in Cove Sound, where Beaufort is located."

"And then we'll know what the wonderful letter contains. It's bothered me more'n a little to guess, even though I knowed right well I had no business to think of it at all. But there's George pointing to somethin' ahead."

"Yes, he sees the rough water of Ocracoke Inlet, and is falling back," laughed Jack, who was amused when the usually reckless skipper of the speed boat developed a cautious vein.

George was learning something by slow degrees, and this might be set down to be the truth of that old proverb to the effect that the race is not always to the swift. Perhaps, if he ever had another boat built to order, he would not sacrifice safety and comfort to the mad desire to make fast time.

But Ocracoke proved no harder to negotiate than had Hatteras. Perhaps it might be that experience was teaching the young motor boat cruisers just how to manage their craft when passing these dangerous openings, where the sweep of the sea had a full chance to strike them.

Then came Portsmouth, where Jimmy was dispatched for the mail, as well as some necessary food supplies. They all had such good appetites, save perhaps Josh, for whose lack Nick more than made up, that it was simply amazing how things just seemed to melt away. But then six boys can always be depended upon to devour their own weight in "grub" during a short cruise upon the water. The salty air seemed to make them hungry all the time, so that it became necessary to piece between regular meals.

Jack timed their departure from Portsmouth so as to break into Cove Sound, and reach Cedar Island, before night came on. Somehow he had set his mind in making a camp here. Possibly he had read of some former lone boatman doing the same, for he had devoured several books containing descriptions of this inland passage.

As nothing happened to disturb his plans, they drew up for the night at Cedar Island, an hour and more before the sun would set.

This gave them plenty of chances to do a number of things that happened to appeal to them individually. George went ashore to stretch his cramped legs, whither Nick had of course preceded him, leaving the Wireless at anchor just beyond the other two boats.

And George took his gun with him, thinking there might be a chance to pick up some shore birds, in the way of snipe or curlew.

Jack was bent on trying to get a mess of fish for supper, and noting what seemed to be a promising place close by, he set to work. They saw him pull in several finny captives; and Nick would rub his stomach in mute delight every time the patient angler made a strike, as he viewed the possibilities of a prospective feast.

Josh was busy making a fireplace out of some stones he picked up. It always did him great good to have things fixed to suit his ideas of what a cooking fire ought to be when in camp. It was fast becoming a hobby with Josh; and yet, strange to say, with all his ability in the line of cookery, he was often unable to partake of his own savory messes on account of his disposition toward indigestion.

Herb seemed to be whittling something out of a piece of nice wood he had found; while Jimmy, always good-natured, and willing to be the "handy boy" of the bunch, gathered wood for the cook.

They heard George shoot a number of times, and new hope began to take hold of Nick, who, moving closer to Josh, commenced quizzing him on how shore birds ought to be cooked, in order to bring out their particular flavor. Nick was never happier than when engaged in his favorite conversation concerning appetizing things to eat. Indeed, there was only one thing he liked better; and this was to indulge in the actual demonstration itself, and devour the finished product of the cook's skill.

Suddenly Jimmy gave a yell. The others started up, thinking that perhaps Jack had made an unusually fine haul, or been pulled in himself by a large fish. George was just breaking through the scrub near by, and he echoed the shout of Jimmy.

"Look at the Wireless, would you, fellows? Say! she's bewitched, that's what!" was what he whooped, as he started to run toward them.

And as they turned their eyes in the direction of the erratic speed boat, what was their amazement to see the little craft moving away at a fast pace, although the engine was quite dead and cold, and not the first sign of a human being could be detected aboard.

It was a mystery that sent a cold chill through every heart!

CHAPTER XVII.

GOOD-BYE TO AN ANCHOR

"Who's playing this trick on me?" demanded George, as he reached the others.

"Look around and you'll see we're all here, with Jack running like mad this way," observed Herb, indignantly.

"But what in the Sam Hill ails the bally old boat, then?" exclaimed George, as he turned his eyes again on the fast receding Wireless, that was heading out from the shore.

"It's some trick of a native cracker; he's swimming under water, and pulling the boat after him. We've got to get in the other boats and give chase," declared shrewd Josh.

"It's mighty queer, that's all!" gasped Nick; while Jimmy stood as if turned into stone, his eyes round with fear and superstition, for Jimmy had inherited the regular Irish belief in banshees and ghosts.

George made a dash for the nearest boat, which happened to be the Tramp.

"Wait for me!" shouted the owner of that craft, who was putting on a spurt in order to reach them quickly, having forgotten all about his finny prizes in this new and overwhelming discovery.

He came up on the run, but already Herb was in the Comfort, about to start the engine.

"No need, Herb," gasped Jack, "George and myself can overtake it with the Tramp. The rest of you stay here."

"But glory be, what ails the ould thing?" demanded Jimmy, determined not to let the commodore get away without some explanation of the puzzle.

"Why, don't you understand?" said Jack, as he busied himself with the motor. "A big fish, perhaps a wandering shark, has fouled the anchor rope, and getting badly rattled, has put off at full speed, dragging the boat after him. He's headed for the nearest inlet at this very minute; but we'll beat him at that little game, won't we, George?"

Then the rattle of the motor sounded, and immediately the Tramp set off in the wake of the runaway motor boat.

A more surprised lot of boys it would have been difficult to find than those thus left upon the little sandy beach on Cedar Island. They stared after the two boats, and then turned to look at each other.

"Well, did you ever?" gasped Nick.

"Beats Bannigher, so it does," declared Jimmy, though it could be seen that a humorous expression had taken the place of that look of fear on his freckled face.

"A shark got mussed up in the anchor rope, and then set out to steal the whole outfit!" remarked Herb. "Well, of all the funny things, don't that take the cake, though?"

"That silly old boat of George's seems to me is always cutting up some sort of capers. She's the toughest proposition ever," Josh declared.

"That's what I'm saying all the blessed time," grunted Nick, unconsciously beginning to feel of his various joints, as though the mere mention of the Wireless made him remember his aches.

"But can they overtake the measly thing?" Josh asked, watching nervously to see if he could determine how the race was progressing.

"Just because the Wireless is the faster boat, don't think Jack isn't going to run her down, hand over fist," declared Herb. "Already he's gaining on the other. You see, the shark isn't used to towing a boat like that at race-horse speed. And then the anchor bothers him some, I bet you."

"Will George shoot the monster – for I take it a shark must be of pretty good size to run away with a motor boat like that?" Josh inquired.

"Watch and see what happens. George has his gun in his hands, and seems to be looking over, as if he'd just like to shoot; but pshaw! the shark will stick to the bottom right along, and he can't be touched."

It was evident to them all that unless some other line of action was brought into play the pursuers would have a pretty hard time of it outwitting the thief that refused to show himself near the surface.

But they knew Jack would be equal to any occasion, and it was with more or less curiosity rather than alarm that those ashore stood there, watching, and waiting to see the close of the exciting little drama.

"There, George has put down his gun; and I reckon Jack told him it was no good trying to cop the old pirate that way. Now what's he doing, fellows?" Nick remarked.

"I saw the sunlight shine on something he's got in his hand," declared Herb.

"That's roight," Jimmy observed, with conviction. "And it's a knife he is howldin', so it is."

"Oh! my goodness gracious! I hope that foolish and rash George isn't thinking of going overboard, and engaging the man-eater in a fight, just like I've read those pearl divers do!" Nick gasped.

"Rats! what d'ye think George is made of to play such a foolish game?" Jimmy cried. "It's to cut the anchor rope the laddy buck means to thry!"

"That's right, Jimmy; and you can be sure it was Jack put him wise to that," Herb broke in with.

"But," Nick went on, still half dazed, "he'll never see his blessed old anchor any more, will he? The blooming old shark will run off with it."

"Let him," laughed Josh, in derision. "Better to lose a measly anchor than have the boat go to smash. Looky, fellows, he's going to do it right now!"

Every one of them stared as hard as he could. The two boats had not gone so far off but what a pair of good eyes could observe what was taking place, even though night was coming on apace, with some clouds gathering overhead.

Jack had run the Tramp alongside the erratic runaway, and George was seen to clamber aboard his own boat. Of course, after that it would be a simple job to press the keen edge of Jack's knife upon the strained anchor rope.

"He did it!" shouted Jimmy, as the Wireless was noticed to fall suddenly behind the other craft, as though relieved from the unseen force that had been towing her away at such a headlong pace.

And presently the speed boat was seen to move of her own accord, George having turned his engine, and thrown on power.

They came back side by side, the skippers laughing heartily at the harmless end of what had at one time threatened to prove a calamity.

"No harm done except that I must buy a new cable and anchor at Beaufort," said George, as he once more drew up by the side of the Comfort.

"I've got a spare rope I can lend you till then," spoke up Herb, who liked to fish up all manner of contraptions from the depths of the roomy craft, and see the surprise written on the faces of his chums.

So, after all, the excitement died out, though they would never forget their amazement at seeing the boat rushing off without any visible reason for its flight.

Jack went back and secured the finny prizes that he had taken, upon which Josh set Jimmy to work, as the Irish boy was a master hand at cleaning fish. George, it turned out, had knocked down a whole covey of small birds, and several of them got busy plucking the feathers from these.

Nick was willing to do what he could, but truth to tell, he proved so clumsy at the task that it took him the whole time to get just one little bird ready, while Jack and Herb did six apiece.

Of course, they feasted that night, and considerable of the talk around the camp-fire concerned the late adventure.

"It might have been much more serious," George declared.

"That's a fact," added Josh, wagging his long head, solemnly, as was his custom. "Suppose now that same thing had happened in the middle of the night? Whew! we never would have known what had become of the blessed old Wireless. Jimmy here would have said the ghosts had carried her off."

"Even if that shark had had a better start he might have given us a long chase before we caught him. And you fellows saw how quick it got dark tonight, with the clouds hanging over us," George continued.

"What would you have done in that case, Jack?" asked Nick.

"Do you mean if we found ourselves far out on the dark sound?" laughed the one addressed. "Why, I reckon we could have heard you shout; and if that failed there was the fire. Oh, I don't doubt we'd have found some way to get back here, all in good time!"

By ten o'clock the sky had cleared again, so that they concluded to keep to the original plan, which included a night ashore. George was seen to pay particular attention about fastening his boat to the others with an extra cable.

"He's meaning to make things secure," chuckled Josh.

"Yes, one experience is quite enough for George, sometimes," commented Herb. "If another shark gets the fever, and tries to run away with an anchor, he's just got to take the entire bunch."

"Yes, and the whole island in the bargain, because they've fastened the boats to that tree, you notice," Josh observed.

Their hopes of a good, quiet night suffered no blight, for nothing happened to disturb their sleep, and morning found them eager to go on.

They fully expected reaching Beaufort before long now, when the mysterious little packet could be delivered to the party to whom it was addressed, if they were fortunate enough to find him. Young Spence did not seem to be sure that this Van Arsdale Spence still lived near Beaufort, as he evidently once had done; but still Jack had hopes of succeeding, since they seemed to carry such luck along with them.

It was eight o'clock when they got started. As usual, George detained them, finding occasion to do some more little necessary tinkering with that miserable engine of his, that was forever getting out of order.

Cove Sound lay shimmering in the sunlight as the three little boats left the friendly beach of Cedar Island, and once more cut a passage through the water, with their prows turned southward.

It was a beautiful morning.

"I only hope," Jack had said at starting, "that it is a good omen, and that we will be able to get on the track of the party without too much delay."

And so they started on the last leg that was to take them to Beaufort.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS

They made such fair speed that, as noon came along, they realized they could reach the little city on the sound. Once or twice Jack had been tempted to turn in to the shore, especially when he saw what looked to be a very pretty plantation, with the house having a red roof, and nestling in among many trees, for the idea had occurred to him that he might just happen on some valuable information concerning the party whom they sought.

But it ended in his determining that on the whole he had better curb his impatience until reaching Beaufort. At the postoffice he might get in touch with some one who knew.

When they pulled in they had eaten a little bite of cold stuff, as it was not their intention to stop to cook anything.

Jack himself set off for the postoffice, to secure what mail awaited them, and at the same time make certain inquiries.

"Can you tell me anything about a certain party named Van Arsdale Spence?" he asked the postmaster, after receiving several letters.

The other looked at him closely.

"He used to live near here," he said, finally.

"Yes, we understood that, and I want to find him very much," Jack went on.

"You passed his old home as you came here, and perhaps you noticed the house in among the trees, the one with the red-tiled roof?"