Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence

“What does he hope to gain by all this, sir?” asked George, when they had missed the swimmer for the fourth time, and were waiting for him to appear again.

“Oh! Glenwood is a keen one,” replied the government agent. “Depend on it he has several irons in the fire. Perhaps he expects to get a chance to land on the Canadian shore, where I could not very well chase him. Then again he keeps hoping that our good friend, the moon, will kindly hide again. That would give him all the opportunity he wants to come up, get a breath, and vanish without being seen. There he is, George; back up this time!”

So the merry chase continued – at least it may have seemed that to the two boys, but must have assumed a more serious aspect with the man they were after. Jack could not but admire the nerve and audacity of the swimmer. He even secretly began to hope Glenwood might get away; for after all it was none of their business, though the fellow was really a criminal, in that he was breaking the laws of the land.

But George had entered heart and soul into the game, and was determined to do all he could to assist the revenue man. He backed the boat so fast that soon the swimmer had to duck again.

“He’s getting weaker all the time, boys,” remarked the agent, in a satisfied tone. “We have only to keep this system of tactics up a little longer, and Glenwood will be only too glad to come in out of the wet, or drown.”

“Oh! I hope that doesn’t happen,” said George.

“Little fear,” replied the other. “Like most of us, Glenwood clings on to life, and always has hopes of escaping. Do you see him yet, either of you?”

“Not on this side,” replied Jack.

“And I don’t glimpse him here,” George went on.

“But he’s been under almost a full minute now, and that’s a long time for one as exhausted as he must be,” the agent remarked, seriously.

“Oh! I hope he hasn’t acted like I’ve known wounded ducks to do,” said George, “go to the bottom, and hold on to the eel grass until they drown. That would be terrible.”

“And if he’d only held out a few minutes more he might have had the chance he was looking for, sir,” said Jack; “for there’s another bunch of clouds making up toward the moon.”

“Just so, Jack,” remarked the revenue man, glancing aloft; “and I wager Glenwood knew that fact, too.”

“But where can he be, sir? It would be impossible for any one to stay under so long. I’m something of a swimmer myself, and I know I couldn’t,” George went on, anxiously.

“Sure he didn’t bob up quietly, take a breath or two, and sink out of sight again?” asked the other.

Both boys declared they were positive that such had not been the case. The revenue man remained there for another minute, as though pondering. Then Jack saw him look up and smile. He did not call out, but made a mysterious motion with his hand that seemed to call for silence.

Then Jack saw him creeping slowly and cautiously toward the stern of the boat. George stared with wide open eyes, as though the startling thought had come to him that their passenger had suddenly gone crazy. But if so, there was a method in his madness, and Jack had guessed it.

The stern of the Wireless was not an over-hang, but the customary square one of a speed boat. Still, any one in the water could hang on to the rudder, keeping clear of the propeller; and while the boat was stationary, be concealed from the view of those aboard, unless indeed, some inquisitive person thrust his head far out over the edge.

Undoubtedly the cunning Glenwood had conceived this to be a good plan, to rest, and wait for the cloud to cover the face of the moon, when he could dip again, and pass away under the water beyond reach of their limited vision.

Jack almost ceased to breathe, so intensely interested was he in watching the advance of the revenue man. It was a case of diamond cut diamond, apparently, and victory would go to the keener mind.

Now the agent was crawling over the stern, and evidently getting in readiness to suddenly swoop his arm down, with fingers extended, to clutch anything he might come in contact with there.

He made the movement with a celerity that reminded Jack of the swoop of a hawk on a pigeon. And apparently he must have gauged his action nicely; for immediately there arose a yell, and a threshing of the water followed; while the agent held on desperately, calling to the others for assistance.

Two hands were seen to clutch the brass rail; and then a head came into view.

“No need to yank my hair out; I’m coming aboard all right, Carson!” gasped the exhausted swimmer; but the government agent evidently looked upon him as a slippery customer, for he declined to release his clutch until the man had been pulled wholly into the boat, and stretched on his back in the bottom.

Jack felt a queer chill when he heard something “click,” and realized that for the first time in all his life he saw a prisoner hand-cuffed. But Glenwood did not appear to be very much cast down. He had faced this situation a long time, and evidently discounted all its terrors. He even laughed as soon as he got his breath.

“It was some fun while it lasted, Carson,” he said.

“And you came near playing it on me for good,” replied the other, laughing in his turn. “I only fell to your smart trick by accident. Seemed to me I felt something bump against the side of the boat, when none of us chanced to be moving. And then I figured what I would do myself in a similar case. That was how I came to hit on your game, Glenwood.”

“How about my friends; did they get away?” asked the other.

“George,” the agent went on, “turn around, and we’ll head back; if you’re in doubt I can tell you just where we’ll find the other boat, first of all, and then the island where your comrades are waiting.”

Then he turned to his prisoner, saying:

“Neither of them took the dare you set, Glenwood; and we got the upper hand of both in short order. Besides, there are three chaps with their legs tied up, on the island.”

“A clean sweep, you’ve made of it, then,” remarked the smuggler, disconsolately; “bagged the whole lot, and the stuff in the bargain. Well, I knew how it would be when I heard they were sending you up here, Carson. Sooner or later I guessed we’d be up against it, and meet with our finish. But it came quicker than I expected.”

He said nothing more, nor did the government agent seem disposed to enter into further conversation just then. Keeping at the elbow of the pilot, he watched him head the boat along toward where George thought the Flash would be found. And that his judgment was good they presently saw, when in the moonlight the other motor boat was discovered quite motionless on the river.

George gave a signal, which was immediately answered. When they drew alongside it was to find that both Clarence and Bully Joe were awaiting their coming with more or less eagerness.

“Thank goodness!” said the owner of the Flash; “now we’ll get rid of these ugly fellows. They just pounced down on us several days ago, and we’ve had to do what they wanted ever since. I hope, sir, you won’t bother taking us along with you, because we’ve had nothing to do with their games. We were prisoners, that’s right. I was threatened with all sorts of terrible things if I refused to run the boat as that man wanted.”

“Oh! I understand that, young fellow,” said Mr. Carson, pleasantly. “All I want you to do is to accompany us back to the island, carrying those you have aboard. I’ll relieve you of them there, and you can go about your business. I have no call out for you. But next time I advise you to be a little more careful whose company you accept. It got you into trouble once, and may again.”

“I declare I have no idea where our blooming old haunted island lies,” admitted George, frankly; “and I’ll have to ask you to stand by sir, to tell me how to steer.”

“That’s easily done, George;” laughed the other. “And you’ve been a big help to me, something I’ll not soon forget either. Clarence, keep as close by us as is safe; and we’ll have no more racing as we return, remember.”

Clarence had something on his mind, nor could he keep from saying what it was.

“Think you climbed up on me hand over fist, don’t you, George,” he remarked, as the two speed boats got under way once more. “Well, you’ve got another think coming, that’s what. He ordered me to hit up my hottest pace, and I told him I was doing it; but all the same I kept a bit in reserve. The Flashcan do better; and some fine day you’ll all get your eyes opened, perhaps. I played my little game to get rid of unwelcome passengers, leaving the question about which was the faster boat to be settled some other time. See?”

“That’s a likely story,” sneered George, who would not think of letting any one dim the glory that the dashing Wireless had so gallantly won; and least of all Clarence Macklin. “Tell that to the marines, will you? But if the chance ever comes I’ll try it all over with you for fair. Meanwhile don’t bother yourself boasting how you’re going to cut figure eight’s around me, with that pirate boat of yours. She looks dangerous; but in a race something besides looks counts. I’ve got it right here. That’ll be enough for you, Clarence,” and George declined to exchange any further words with the skipper of the defeated motor boat.

CHAPTER XXII – BUSTER’S HOUR OF TRIUMPH

It proved that Mr. Carson knew his St. Lawrence in the neighborhood of the Thousand Islands by heart, so that even in the misty moonlight he was able to guide the two speed boats back to the haunted island.

Their arrival was the signal for an outburst of cheers from those of the motor boat boys who had been left behind.

Great was the excitement that took possession of the four when they discovered that it was Clarence and Bully Joe who were now in charge of the mysterious dark speed boat; and after finding out that three smugglers lay in the bottom, with their ankles tied, and steel bracelets on their wrists, Nick and Josh were so overwhelmed with amazement that they could hardly speak for a brief time. And as the others realized, when the tall lad lost his voice it must be something wonderful indeed that had happened.

Mr. Carson meant to lose no time. He sent his Indian assistant across the island to take the little canvas collapsible canoe, and cross over to a neighboring piece of land, where their noisy motor boat had been concealed earlier in the evening.

Of course the boys now understood that it had been this river craft whose loud, rattling pulsations they had caught at the time George first mentioned hearing the sounds.

When, a little later, the pilot returned, bringing the snub-nosed boat with him, the three prisoners were transferred without much trouble. After that the revenue man and his helper went ashore to complete the job. One by one they brought off the trio of prisoners who had been left there helpless.

Finally they carried aboard the large packs that Jack had seen hidden in the cavity under the old straw in the cabin’s earthen floor.

“I think that finishes the job,” remarked the energetic agent, as he wiped his wet forehead. “And I must admit that, taken as a whole, it’s about the most satisfactory piece of business I’ve handled for a long time.”

“Did you get them all, sir?” Josh asked, filled with admiration for the man who could engineer a big scheme like this and bring it to a successful close.

“The entire working force is now in custody, I believe,” replied Mr. Carson. “To be sure there are probably some persons connected with the band whom we will never lay hands on; such as those who supplied the funds, and shipped the goods across the border. But it may be possible to catch some of the guilty receivers over on our side of the river. When rogues find themselves fast in the toils, they frequently offer to confess all they know in order to curry favor with the authorities. And secretly, between us, I imagine Glenwood may yet be induced to turn state’s evidence.”

“Are you going to leave us now, sir?” asked Jack, seeing that the other was evidently preparing to cross over to his own well laden motor boat.

“Yes,” came the reply. “The sooner I get this cargo behind the bars, the better. But I want to shake hands with each one of you, and thank you again most heartily for the assistance you have given me in this matter. I don’t mean to let it drop there; and you may expect to hear from me again, since Jack Stormways has given me his address. Good night boys, and may the balance of your vacation be as peaceful as the beginning has been stormy.”

“Oh! well, we’ve sure enjoyed it, Mr. Carson,” said George, “and it was worth a heap to me to have that chance to try conclusions with the Flash.”

“I’ve no doubt of it, George,” laughed the agent, as he clambered over the side of his stubby little launch. “And since I miss that same evil looking boat, I surmise that our friend Clarence did not care to stay here in your company any longer than he could help.”

“He scooted off as soon as you had gone ashore for the prisoners, sir,” observed Nick, who wanted to have a last word with the man he admired so much.

And in another minute the Indian pilot had set his chatterbox of an engine to beating a lively tattoo, upon which the stub-nosed launch began to draw away. As long as it remained in sight in the moonlight the boys cheered, and called goodbyes, so that if there chanced to be any more ghosts lingering about that haunted island they must have taken this for a clear defiance of their power, and concluded to remain in hiding during the balance of the stay of the motor boat boys.

“Think we can pick up a few winks of sleep, fellows?” asked George, when the clatter of the loud-voiced engine had been mellowed by distance.

“We ought to try, anyhow,” said Jack, “Seems to me we’ve had our rest pretty badly broken up lately. For one I’m going to forget it all for a while.”

But the chances were that none of them got any satisfactory sleep during the balance of that eventful night.

On the following morning they prepared to vacate the cove that had been their anchorage for so long. All of them first went ashore; for Nick and Herb were very anxious to see the cabin, and the hole in the floor were the smugglers kept their goods concealed after secretly bringing the stuff over from the Canada mainland, waiting until a good chance opened to scatter it through the state, free of duty.

“Well,” declared Nick, as they prepared to get underway later in the morning; “this has been a great experience all around, sure enough. And it ended fine – that is for us boys, though I guess poor old Glenwood and his fellow conspirators don’t feel so very gay over it.”

“And don’t forget our friends, Clarence and Bully Joe, while about it,” spoke up George. “Just stop and think what Macklin went through – held a prisoner by those reckless men, and threatened with all sorts of trouble if he so much as squeaked on ’em. Then forced to do whatever they wanted. And last, but far from least, beaten in a fair race by this dandy little meteor boat that he once sneered at. That’s glory enough for me, I’m telling you, shipmates.”

“I guess we all enjoyed it,” remarked Josh.

“Yes, so far as I’m concerned I’d be quite contented and happy right now, if I only knew one thing,” remarked Nick, looking doleful again.

“Here, don’t you go to starting up your tune about that break,” said George, “we all agreed long ago that if you did leak to Clarence, you never would have done it on purpose. So forget it.”

“But I tell you I can’t,” flashed back the fat boy. “I feel sore about it; and I want to find out the truth so that every one of you’ll get down on your marrow-bones and ask my pardon. And something tells me the time ain’t so far away when that very thing is going to happen.”

“Then speed the hour,” grinned Herb; “after you’ve seen us in a row asking forgiveness, perhaps we’ll have peace, and you’ll forget the incident.”

“Don’t count too heavily on that,” George said. “You don’t know Buster as well as I do. Just as like as not he’ll turn out to be made up the same way as that thirsty young woman in the sleeping car, you know.”

“But perhaps we don’t know, so suppose you tell us,” Nick himself burst out with curiosity consuming him.

“Oh! I thought it was a chestnut; but if you will have it, listen. A traveling man, trying to go to sleep, heard some woman keep on saying out loud in the berth next to him ‘Oh! I am so thirsty! Oh! I am so thirsty!’ When he couldn’t stand for it any longer he got up, went and fetched a glass of water, and begged her to accept it. Then he went back to his berth, thinking he would have peace. But soon he heard the same woman saying over and over again: ‘Oh! I was so thirsty! I was so thirsty!’ So look out Buster don’t play that game on you, Herb.”

There was a shout at this, in which Nick joined; for being a good-natured chap in the main, he could take a joke that was leveled at himself.

About nine o’clock the signal was given, and the three motor boats forming the cruising fleet pulled out of the friendly cove. Those on board looked back with more or less rejoicing and regret at the scene of their recent adventures. They would not soon forget all that had happened since first they dropped in there for a night’s stay. And Jack’s entries in the official log would doubtless prove very entertaining reading for the folks at home.

Upon examining the bow of his speed boat George had found where that bullet had struck, that was fired last of all by the desperate smuggler, in hopes of frightening the boy at the wheel of the pursuing craft.

It had made quite a hole, though fortunately doing no real damage. Later on he could of course, have the aperture plugged; but for the present it would stand as a mute witness to the truth of the adventurous story the boys had to tell. If any one of their mates at home ventured to scoff at the idea of their having been actually under a hot fire, he stood ready to pry that bit of lead out of its lodgings, and thus confound the skeptic.

They were now on the second week of their vacation, and of course had lots of territory to cover still, before they could say they had exhausted the pleasures of this wonderful cruising ground. But already the motor boat boys were looking forward to another daring venture, and all of them had written home to gain the consent of those who must be consulted ere determining positively on their plans.

This included a long trip through lakes Ontario and Erie, up past Detroit into Lake Huron, along the shore of this great body of water until the wonderful Soo was reached at the head of the St. Mary’s river; and then possibly into Superior; winding up with a run down Lake Michigan to Milwaukee, where the boats could be sent home the same way they had left, via railroad.

Of course, being real boys, once a great undertaking like this had formed itself in their minds they could talk of little else. And Jack knew very well that if any determined opposition developed at home, that would put a damper on the grand scheme, there would be a feeling of gloom settle down over the whole expedition.

After leaving the haunted island the first object of the boys was to get back to Clayton, and not only replenish their depleted supplies, but gather up any mail that would, according to orders, be held for them at the post office there.

Josh went ashore to get the mail, while Jack looked after the supplies. Nick seemed unusually uneasy all the time they were gone; and upon their showing up he demanded shrilly that the letters be distributed without delay.

“Only one for you, Pudding,” jeered the letter carrier, as he held it up; “and seems to me I smell violet perfume on that. Must be a dainty billet doux from Rosie Sinclair; but here, take it and go off by yourself. It would make us all die of envy to see you reading such sweet stuff, when we are forgotten by our best girls.”

Nick eagerly snatched the missive from his hand, and with trembling fingers tore it open. A minute later the others were astonished to hear him give a loud whoop.

“What did I tell you, fellows?” he exclaimed, trying to dance around like a wild Indian, and waving the open letter. “Mebbe I ain’t something of a detective myself? Come around here, every one of you now, and get ready to do that marrow-bone act you promised.”

“What’s all this mean? Has he gone out of his mind?” asked George.

“Tell us, Buster,” said Jack, who could suspect something of the nature of the communication Nick had received.

“His dad has said he can take the northern cruise, that’s what!” remarked Josh, a bit enviously.

“Oh! you’re away off there,” cried the fat boy, derisively. “Why, you couldn’t guess the truth in a month of Sundays, Josh. It takes real brains to figure out a solution to a mystery like that. And I did it, all by my little self.”

“Great governor!” ejaculated George, “listen to him, would you, fellows? Honest now, if it don’t sound as if he’d found out where that leak lay. Here, Buster, it isn’t fair to keep us on the ragged edge so long. Open up now, and explain. Did anybody talk in their sleep? Who told Clarence our plans?”

“You did, George; yes, and so did Jack and Herb and Josh – I guess Jimmie and myself had a hand in it too!” laughed the fat boy, to their great mystification!

CHAPTER XXIII – HAPPY DAYS – CONCLUSION

“Poor old Buster! He’s sure getting weak in the upper story,” said George.

“It’s going to be a strait-jacket for him before long!” sighed Josh.

But Jack spoke not a word; for he could somehow see further than the rest of the boys, and understood that Nick held a strong hand.

“Oh! is that the way you’re thinking?” said the fat boy, still trembling with the violence of his excitement. “Just wait till I read this little letter, and then if you’re honest you’ll do the right thing by poor old Buster.”

“He’s going to read Rosie’s little note to us, fellows!” cried Josh, pretending to be horror-stricken at such a base betrayal of confidence.

“Who said it was from Rosie, or any girl at all?” demanded Nick, indignantly. “Look at the name signed at the bottom, and you can read Aleck. Yes, it’s from my old friend, Aleck Sands. I wrote him a week ago, when that bright thought first dazzled me. And you remember, when Josh here gave me that start by talking through that old rusted tin water pipe? Well, that made me believe harder than before that I’d got on the track.”

“Read the letter, plague take you, Nick!” roared impatient George; “don’t you see you’re giving some of us heart disease right now, with your everlasting slow way of getting at things.”

So Nick, assuming a posture that, according to his mind signified the attitude of a victor awaiting the laurel wreath, began in his slow way.

“Dear Buster:

“As soon as I got your interesting letter I hit it up for the school house. Found old Crusty Bill Edwards hard at work, and had to bribe him to let me get in. Went up to the little room where we hold our club meetings. Yes, you were right, Buster; the register from the furnace in that room does back into the cloak room. Found both of ’em shut, but got old Bill to stand in the club room while I opened the registers, and then listened in the cloak closet while he talked to himself. And Buster, why, say, I could near hear the old man think, every sound came through that hole so plain. If you fellows talked about your plans that day you were there, and Clarence was hiding in the cloak room, make up your mind, old chap, he heard every word you said; In a hurry so I’ll ring off.

“Yours, Aleck.”

As Nick read the last word he paused and looked expectant. His motor-mates stared at one another as though for the moment rendered incapable of speech. The cleverness of the fat boy’s deduction was stunning; had it sprung from Jack, now, they might not have considered it so very wonderful; but to think that Buster, always so slow to grasp anything, could have done it, fairly staggered them.

Jack was the first to recover. Laughingly he dropped on one knee beside Nick, and seizing the fat hand of the victor he pretended to kiss it with due humility.

The others entered into the spirit of the occasion; and right there on the dock, regardless of the stares of passersby, the five clung around the grinning Buster, begging him to forgive their thick-headedness, and restore them to favor.