Motor Boat Boys' River Chase; or, Six Chums Afloat and Ashore

The silence that followed was doubtless intended for consent; but Jack chose to consider it otherwise. He wanted an expression from each of his chums.

“George, how about it?” he asked.

“Why, I haven’t the slightest objection,” replied that worthy, readily enough.

“Josh, how about you?”

“Gosh! only too willing,” came the answer.

And Jack put it up to each of the others, until every one had signified his readiness to accept the conditions.

“All right, then,” said Jack, “that settles it for me. And now, watch me get busy, fellows.”

He once more started into the brush. All this conversation had been carried on, of course, in undertones. From time to time they could hear the voices of the other pair raised above the ordinary not far away; or it might be a laugh came floating back to where the six boys crouched, quivering in every nerve with intense excitement.

Why, Jack thought, even the laugh of Slim Jim, the cracksman, was very deceptive, it sounded so boyish and natural; just as though he did not have a care or a worry in all the world. He must be a pretty clever young chap if he could pretend to be such an innocent, when really he was such a desperate rascal – so that paper had stated.

Having quitted the company of his friends, Jack began to advance in the direction of the other camp. He needed no better guide than the glow of the fire they had burning over there on the shore; though very careful as he crept through the bushes to take a little different track than before, because he believed it would be apt to bring him closer to the bush behind which that pretended “grave” that was in reality a cache for stolen wealth, had been so roughly dug.

Once, as he raised himself to glance around, he found it possible to see beyond the camp fire, to the edge of the river, something that none of them had been able to do hitherto; and what should meet his eyes but a very jaunty gasoline launch, of a type that indicated more or less speed, since it was of narrow beam, and would doubtless have quite taken the eye of George Rollins.

Of course Jack chuckled a little when he saw the very significant fact that the boat was painted snow white, and had a nice red line along the gunwale that gave the craft a rather distinguished look.

Again into his mind came the description which he had read out aloud from the fragment of paper, concerning the boat in which it was positive the robbers of the Lawrence bank had fled down the river. A white launch, nobby in appearance, and decorated with a red line. Why, what could be plainer than that? White launches were not so very common on that part of the Mississippi; and Jack could not remember ever having set eyes on one before that was marked with red as this one appeared to be.

He kept creeping along, making no more noise than an Indian warrior might; or perhaps one might say, a snake that can glide swiftly, yet with hardly the faintest rustle of the dead leaves.

If he did make an occasional little slip, they were not on the alert, as red braves might have been. Doubtless they had not the remotest suspicion that such a thing as peril threatened, or that an enemy was within miles of the island retreat to which they had come to hide, and make preparations for deceiving the posse of the sheriff, should they chance to meet later on the river.

No doubt the other five boys had climbed trees or done something else so that they would be in a position to see him when he reached that particular bush, back of which the hole had been dug. They would not be human if they were going to allow this chance to witness the unearthing of the treasure pass without an effort to become spectators.

Jack found that the two beside the fire were making merry. He eyed them closely, and then shook his head, thinking that perhaps they might appear like desperate rogues to an expert sheriff, accustomed to dealing with rascals of every kind; but for his part he rather thought the boy was a spoiled son of a rich man, and Jenks some humble mechanic out cruising with the other. But of course, not being well posted in criminal matters, how could he, a mere tyro, be expected to be able to judge what people were, just because they laughed in such a care-free way. Slim Jim they said feared nothing on earth; slender and young as he was, he had laughed more than one sheriff to scorn; and snapped his fingers when traps were sprung only to find that he was missing.

Now Jack was drawing closer and closer to that bush. He had marked it well on the previous occasion, so that there could be no such thing as mistaking it. Yes, he recognized every twig almost, so closely had he made a mental photograph of the bush when the two were planting their “swag” back of it, and talking about making it appear as though it were a grave.

If they just kept up that riotous game of “Old Maid” for ten minutes longer, Jack felt positive that he could have accomplished his errand, and left the mound nicely smoothed over as he found it.

Jack guessed that they would hardly feel so merry when they discovered that the treasure-trove had been opened, while they were not thirty feet away, and the box containing the stolen securities and the bank bills carried off; or if they did laugh it would be on the “other side of their mouths,” as Buster might have expressed it in his humorous way.

Now he was doing even better, for he had to pass a little patch where the cover was rather slim and in order to successfully negotiate it he was compelled to flatten himself very much on the order of a flapjack or a pancake.

But then, they seemed to have no eyes for anything except the cards they were handling. Two more unsuspicious rascals it would be indeed difficult to find; at least that was Jack’s idea.

There was a piece of great good luck, for his hand had actually fallen upon the identical stick with the sharp point which Jenks had used so successfully when he was digging the hole in which to bury the treasure box.

Of course Jack picked this up, for he believed he could make good use of it in his line of business just about that time.

And now he had gained the bush, so that his hand actually rested on the little mound of fresh earth. It gave Jack something of thrill to realize that he was so very close to all that amount of loot which these two scamps had taken from the poor depositors of the Lawrence bank; for if the institution failed the loss would fall partly on poor people.

But he lost no time in getting to work with that odd spade, fashioned from a stick. When he found that he had loosened the top earth, he started to dragging it away with his hands, boy fashion; using the palms as scoops.

So he quickly got down to where he could touch the flat top of the little box; and then burrowing alongside, he managed presently to unheave the same, dragging it out of the cavity.

Then Jack set to work to place several stones that he had noted close by, in place of the box, so that the mound would still be as high as ever and look as it though it still contained the chest.

Once in every little while as he did this work, Jack would glance through the lower part of the bush in order to make sure that the two card players were still as much interested in their innocent game of “Old Maid” as before. But really he had little need to do this, because their loud laughter told the fact as plainly as anything.

Then followed the most difficult task of creeping back over the route he had taken to reach the place. It had been hard enough when he could watch those whom he looked on as enemies; but as now he had to go backwards part of the time, so as to know when to stop moving, and lie still, when he thought one of them glanced that way, it became doubly difficult.

But Jack had not been making an idle boast when he claimed to be a much better scout than any one of his five companions. Circumstances had allowed him in the past to have a certain amount of experience in this line, such as none of his boatmates could claim; and that was how Jack made such a success of his venture.

Now he had passed the crisis in his retreat and was able to move along faster, even getting to his feet, and in a couching attitude leaving the hostile camp behind.

When he reached the spot where the dull-colored khaki tent stood under the tree he found his five chums awaiting him; and every one of them was bubbling over with both a desire to squeeze Jack’s hand, while telling him in whispers what he thought of such clever work and at the same time filled with a burning curiosity to know if the securities and the stolen money could all be in that humble little box.

CHAPTER IX

OPENING THE STRANGE BOX

“Didn’t you get it, Jack?” asked Josh, carefully, as the Commodore joined the eager group beside the tent. “We all near broke our necks a-tryin’ to see; and I say you grabbed the box; but Buster here seems as set on it that you had to give up the job, because you got back so fast. Here, what d’ye think of that, Buster? See what he’s a-carryin’ under his arm, would you? It takes Jack to do things with a rush, and yet never have a breakdown!”

“Less noise, Josh!” cautioned Jack, “you forget who’s so close by. Even if the wind does rattle the new leaves on the trees, and the water churn against the rocks on the shore, they might happen to hear you. Lower that sharp voice of yours when you say ‘Told you so’!”

All the same every one of his five companions seemed delighted with his success. Buster had to even put out his hand and touch the box, before he would actually be convinced. Buster, you see, was something of a Doubting Thomas; he might take other people’s word on occasion; but he preferred to actually know that things were so, from his own experience.

“Why, it is a box, sure as you live,” he was heard to mutter, as though surprised that the whole thing did not turn out to be just a dream; and that he would soon wake up.

“And is it heavy, Jack?” asked George, anxiously.

“Oh! just so-so,” answered the hero of the raid, as he passed the article in question around, so that everybody could get the heft of it, even Buster.

It was laughable to see the way the fat boy took hold of the little chest; but then each one firmly believed that it contained quite a little fortune, and consequently there was something of due reverence for wealth in his way of handling the thing.

“I bet you they’ll be hoppin’ mad when they find out it’s been sneaked away from them after all their bully trouble in hidin’ the same,” ventured Buster.

“Yes, and to think of the cuteness of that fellow makin’ out that it was going to be reckoned just a regular little grave,” said George, with a chuckle. “Guess he thought that nobody would ever dare dig it up then, because they say, it’s sure a sign of bad luck to disturb a body.”

“But what are we going to do now?” demanded Josh.

“Jack, darlint, ain’t we a-goin’ to open the box, and say for oursilves what lies inside?” asked Andy. “Sure, ’tis mesilf that’d loike tell fale with me own hands all the money it must contain. ’Tis a bank cashier I’m intindin’ to be some foine day, and I loike nothin’ better than to handle cash.”

“Me too,” echoed Josh.

In fact, that was just what every fellow must have been thinking about then; for they were pressing closely around Jack, who had once more taken the box into his charge.

“But how can we ever see anything when we ain’t got a light, and don’t dare start one for fear of being discovered?” remarked doubting George, who as a rule could far excel Buster in this particular of being skeptical.

“How about the stars; ain’t they enough to let a feller see just a little?” asked Josh.

“Jack, what do you say?” came from Herb, willing to let the Commodore decide the question once and for all.

“First, let’s sit down and try to keep quiet for a little while,” responded the boy who had been appealed to, “because, unless I miss my guess, we’re going to have all the light we want to right away now.”

As the others followed his example, and dropped upon the ground, pressing closely together, so that they could get their heads in a small circle, and be able to do some more talking, Buster was heard to say, appealingly:

“Now, just what do you mean by that remark, Jack, I’d like to know? Where would we get so much light? Anybody got a flash torch along? No, that’s where we made a big mistake, you see, forgettin’ so important a thing. Speak up, Jack, and let’s know all about it, please.”

“Even if we did forget,” replied Jack, “we’re going to have the biggest torch you ever heard tell of, pretty soon; and that’ll give us all the light we want, take it from me, Buster.”

The fat boy moved a little uneasily.

“Whee! I hope now, Jack, it ain’t anything like the woods on fire you got in mind,” he asked, with a sudden vein of alarm in his voice; for Buster had once passed through a very unpleasant experience while in a blazing forest, and often had bad dreams on that account.

Josh made a scornful sound, which was a favorite habit of his whenever he wished to convey the idea that he looked on some remark of the stout boy as indicating an unsound mind.

“And us out here on a measly little old island in the middle of the old Mississippi, at that?” he observed, caustically, and then wound up with another “Huh!”

Jack at another time would have been amused to hear these two go at it, hammer and tongs; but the present was hardly an appropriate time for any sort of a dispute or even discussion.

“Suppose you fellows take a look around,” he remarked, “and perhaps after that you won’t need to ask me where I’m going to get my torch.”

After all it was sharp-eyed Andy who made the discovery.

“Arrah! and sure ’tis the moon he manes!” exclaimed the Irish lad.

“The moon,” echoed George, “now wherever do you see any signs of that same thing, I’d like to know?”

“Would you look at George, starin’ as hard as he can right into the west?” mocked Josh. “Since when has the moon taken to risin’ across the river, George? Reckon you’re a little mixed in your directions, ain’t you? Been bobbing over that engine of yours so much you get off your base. That’s right, turn your head around, and you’ll see what Jack means.”

There, somewhere not far from in the east the sky was brightening along the horizon which they could manage to see beyond the tumbling water of the river. Without a doubt it was the coming moon, sending a few shreds of her silvery light in advance to paint the way.

“I c’n see the tip of her face right now, apeekin’ above the line of trees away over there on the shore,” announced Josh, with a slight vein of exultation in his partly suppressed voice.

“That’s roight!” agreed Andy.

As they stood there and looked sure enough the edge of the moon began to slowly creep into sight. At first it seemed just for all the world like a silver pencil marking a bright eyebrow above the horizon; but gradually this extended, growing more pronounced all the while, until even a child could tell that it was the moon making her nightly bow to the darkened world below.

Not another word was said until every part of her now sadly battered disc had come into view. The moon was not near so beautiful as on the third night previous, when full; but there was still a deal of light shining from that yellow glove hung up there in the heavens like a huge lantern.

“She’ll do the business all right, Jack – !” ventured Buster, just as though he had been rather uncertain up to then.

“You just bet she will, bully old moon!” declared George, who was possibly more inclined to be sentimental than any of the six boys.

“Say when, Jack,” urged Josh; meaning by this that he hoped the other would not think the time had arrived to rip the cover off the little box, so that they could all have a peep at its glorious contents, before it was stowed safely away aboard one of the motor boats.

Jack looked a little doubtingly at the moon, just hanging above the horizon. “Not near as much light as she’ll be giving when she gets higher,” he said, softly; “but then, I guess we can’t wait for that. You fellows would just die with anxiety if you couldn’t see pretty soon.”

But while Jack was saying these caustic words, of course he did not mean anything. Why, he was just about as keen on wanting to see the contents of the box as any one of his chums. That was only a boy’s way of expressing himself.

Had there been no need of caution Jack could have knocked the lid off that box in short order, by taking the camp hatchet, and making use of it. The job was not apt to prove quite so easy when he found himself compelled to simply pry with the sharp edge of the said little axe.

He worked busily for several minutes, while the balance of the boys hovered over him, making various suggestions, and even wanting to show Jack how it ought to be done; for of course every fellow considered that he could accomplish the task better than any one else.

But Jack knew what he was about, and so he declined to hand over his job to the next one. He had managed by dint of pressure to get the edge of the blade inserted under what seemed to be the lid of the box, and was now engaged in prying it up, a little at a time.

“Don’t bother Jack so, you fellows,” warned Herb, who was apparently quite satisfied with the way things were going. “Leave him alone, and he’ll fix it all right. He always does, you know. There you c’n see the lid’s coming right along. Another pry like that, and you’ll have her, Jack. Eureka! there she rises, boys! He’s done it!”

Jack calmly bent the lid fully back, and then pried it loose, so that it fell over on the ground. Then he took the little box up in his arms and turned to get the full light of the low moon.

“Jack first, fellers!” cautioned Josh, “don’t you all crowd the mourners so. Let him take a peek, and then the rest of us c’n feast our eyes on all that bully money and stuff. Keep back, Buster, you ain’t the first in line; that’s George, and me, I’m second choice. Look at the stuff Jack’s a-pullin’ out, would you? Seems like rags or somethin’ like that, to me. Reckon they just stuffed the top of the box full to keep the coin from rattling around like. What’s ailing Jack, fellers? See him a-starin’ in like he seen a ghost. Gee! but it must be a great sight, all that boodle from the bank, to make our partner stare like that. George, get a move on you, and step up. You’re next, you know. No crowdin’, Buster. Keep your place in line, can’t you?”

Jack was indeed standing there, and staring into the opened box as though he had received something of a shock; but over his face there began to creep a semblance of a smile, or a grin, or something of that character, as he held out the box for George to take his turn next.

CHAPTER X

DISAPPOINTMENT

“Oh! my stars!”

That was what George said, in a faint voice, as though he was very nearly overcome, after taking his look into the box, Jack holding the same most obligingly all the while.

Of course, even this did not have any effect upon Josh, who was next in line. In fact, if anything, it served to spur him on to all the sooner get his peep-in; wondering at the same time what it could be.

Buster heard Josh give a gasp, as he bent his head down. It must be something wonderfully fetching, to influence all of the boys in that queer way. And consequently Buster, impatient for his turn, actually put out his hand and shoved Josh out of the way.

No sooner had he looked than he too gave evidence of being nearly overcome.

“Great governor! somebody hold me. I’m going to faint!” was what Buster whispered; and this suspicious remark made Andy want to get out of line, only that Herb, coming last, would not allow such a thing, but actually shoved the other up until he just had to do his duty and look.

Andy threw up both hands as he exclaimed, perhaps in a louder voice than was really discreet:

“Tare and ounds! Be the powers, ’tware a grave afther all, so it was!”

“What’s that?” quivered from the lips of Herb, as he now hesitated in turn.

“Come on, don’t hang back like that, Herb; you’ve just got to see!” ventured Josh, laying hold of the other’s sleeve, and commencing to drag him forward.

It was like the boy who jumps into the pond so early in the spring that he is nearly frozen stiff; but whoever heard of him confessing to the fact; while his comrades hesitate on the bank he puts on the most angelic face possible, and declares that the water is “as warm as anything;” until he has coaxed them all in; for misery loves company, they tell us.

So Herb had to do his duty, and look.

“Good gracious, why, it’s only a little puppy dog after all!” broke from his white lips, as he stood there and stared.

“That’s just what it is,” replied Jack. “And after all, that fellow spoke what he meant, when we thought he referred to another sort of treasure. This must have been his pet.”

“But Jack darlint,” broke in Andy, “phat d’ye think he wanted to bury this ki-yi on the island for at all, at all?”

“What for?” echoed Buster, before Jack could say a word, “why, because the little beast had gone and kicked the bucket – died on him – you know.”

“Must have been a pet dog,” suggested Josh, “’cause we heard him say he felt bad at putting the thing underground. Say, Jack, d’ye think now, the little beast could a got hurt that night when they broke into the Lawrence bank and looted it? P’raps somebody fired at the thieves and hit the pup; or it might a got hold of rat poison somehow.”

“Quit your guessing, Josh; what does it matter to us how the poor little beast came to his end?” demanded George, who had a liking for dogs himself, and seemed to feel less hilarity than any of the rest, once the shock of the discovery, and their own disappointment wore away.

Jack was for taking it as a joke at his expense.

“Say, just think of that splendid sneak of mine wasted,” he remarked, sadly. “And all for this, too. I’ve got half a notion to crawl back again, and bury the poor little wretch over, just to pay for making such a mistake.”

“But hold on,” Herb observed, “this doesn’t mean that the two over yonder ain’t what we took ’em to be, does it? There’s the white boat, you know, with the red trimming; didn’t Jack tell us he could see it plain enough anchored close to the shore? Just because they put a little pet dog underground don’t make ’em better, I reckon, eh, Jack?”

Jack did not reply immediately. The old doubts were commencing to work double time with him. He was beginning to question the truth of their solution of the problem. Again he could see the face of the younger fellow, who had seemed to be hardly more than a boy. Was that affectation only assumed? Might it not be a part of the nature of the fellow after all? Was he a desperate crook, who was able to put on an air of innocence; or could it be possible they had made a tremendous mistake, and that he was a pampered son of some rich man, cruising in his fine motorboat, with a mechanic as crew to do the rough work, while he played his part as skipper of the craft?

Yes, Jack was now in the Doubting Thomas class. He shook his head, and seemed to be trying to figure things out, as he laid the box on the ground, and covered it temporarily with the lid which had taken him so long to pry off.

“And if they are the bank thieves,” Herb went on to say, “what d’ye suppose they could have done with all that stuff they took away? Think they buried the same before they got here to this island, Jack, or could it still be on board the little white boat right now?”

“Oh! yes, that’s the stuff; how about it, Jack?” George went on to add.

“We sure did fall all over ourselves in making this blunder,” admitted Josh, “and it’s up to us now to get busy and try to make things square.”

“Of course,” said Jack, slowly, as though he might be revolving this last idea in his mind, “that’s possible. If these are the right men, and they’ve not got rid of the plunder up to now, why, it stands to reason it would be somewhere on board, that’s right.”

“But seems to me, Jack,” remarked Herb, suspiciously, “you’re beginning to hedge a heap. Just a little while ago you were dead sure these fellows must be the two robbers. Now you say ‘if they are.’ How’s that? Didn’t you see their boat, and wasn’t it just what that newspaper account said the suspicious craft looked like.”

“Boys, I admit all that,” the other went on to say, “but if you stop and think, the article in the paper didn’t say positively that the white boat belonged to the bold bank thieves – only that it had been seen hanging around, like it might be in hiding, and they thought it must have for a crew the two yeggs who broke into the Lawrence bank. There’s some difference, you’ll admit between making a positive statement, and just guessing things.”