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Motor Boat Boys' River Chase

<h2>CHAPTER VI A STARTLING INTERRUPTION</h2> “Whee!” exclaimed Josh, hardly able to believe his ears when he heard the fat boy make this astonishing declaration so positively. George also expressed more or less surprise, though from the look on his face it was evident that he was beginning to guess something in connection with what his “crew” was stating. Jack immediately took Buster in hand. It was the only way of making him tell all he knew, without forever “beating about the bush,” and giving himself lots of airs; for Buster seldom found himself in the center of the stage; and when such an event did come along he wished to make the most of it. What boy, wouldn’t, tell me? “See here,” Jack went on to say, “you want to tell us all about that, now, Buster; because you’ve just made a startling statement; and we hope you can back it up. How could you see that boat, and none of the rest of us notice it; tell us that in the first place.” “Shucks! that’s easy enough, fellers,” replied[70] the other, bent on making the most of his advantage. “Tell you how that was. You may remember that George found himself away ahead, near the close of the run; and as George, he doesn’t like to hold up even a little bit, what did he do but spin away over to the other shore, and go down that, say about five miles above the upper end of this blooming old island.” “Oh! get a move on, old Ice-Wagon; you’re as slow as molasses in winter!” groaned impulsive George; whereupon the fat boy turned deliberately toward him to say: “Who’s telling this story, me or you, George Rollins? If I am, then you just keep your hands off, and let me spin the yarn my own way. Don’t expect me to be a whirlwind like you, for I ain’t built that way; you’re a match, and I’m a——” “Tub; but never mind, Buster, please go on!” urged Josh. “Well, of course George, he had his head stuck down close to his engine, watching every stroke it made, and couldn’t see anything, only when he bobbed up every little while to tell me how to steer. And we went in fairly close to the shore. All at once, in a snug little cove behind a tongue of high land, I saw the boat.[71] She was anchored there; and first thing I saw was a young feller, just like that paper tells on, asittin’ on the gunnel, and directin’ a heavy-set chap, who was in jumpers, and looked like he was the engineer, deck hand and crew all rolled in one; he seemed to be mendin’ the engine, or doin’ something like that.” “But how was it you didn’t call the attention of George to the boat?” asked Jack. “It was cruelty to animals, that’s what,” echoed Josh, “because, think how joyful it’d make our chum to know that other people had their engine troubles as well as him?” “Oh! he did tell me to look,” admitted George just then, nodding his head, “but we were going so very fast, you know, that when I did get my head up it was just too late; I had a glimpse of the tip-end of some sort of boat in that cove he mentions; and then the bully little Wireless flipped by like a streak of light. Give you my word for it, fellows, we must have been flying along at the rate of nearly twenty miles per just then, current and all.” “Ah! rats!” ejaculated some one, and George did not know who had spoken, for the voice seemed to come from anywhere; but he just glared around, and then, shaking his head menacingly, he muttered: [72] “Better not be so plain next time, whoever said that; or it might bring on trouble. I c’n stand nearly anything about myself, but I won’t hear my pet boat sneered at. Yes, it was all of twenty miles, understand!” and he again looked at Andy, Buster and Josh, as though daring any one to express another doubt. “Well,” said Jack, “here’s some fun for us, now. If that description of the robber launch holds good; and Buster didn’t see something that wasn’t there, then it seems that we’ve got the thieves, and all their plunder, here within five miles of us right now. That’s interesting, if true, as the papers say.” George began to grow excited. “Get that gun of yours ready, Jack, the trusty old Marlin that has stood between us and trouble many a time!” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, as though in a frame of mind to go rushing off, pell-mell, on some reckless errand. “What for?” asked the more cautious Herb. “Why, don’t it look like it’s up to us to surround that pirate craft, and capture the bold burglars? Remember what we did once before when cruising down this same old Mississippi! And then again, there was that stunt we pulled off up among the Thousand Islands later on.[73] Ain’t you meaning to take a hand in this thing, Jack?” “Oh! I don’t know,” replied the other, carelessly. “I really don’t see why we should be called on to take the place of a sheriff’s posse every little while, and risk our precious lives. None of our folks that I know of have any interest in that looted bank up at Lawrence. And these kind of men are a dangerous proposition to handle, let me tell you. It would be a different matter if they broke in on us, and we got mixed up with the pair in spite of things. Then we’d just have to do our level best to capture the lot, and return the plunder to the cheering citizens of Lawrence.” “Hear! hear!” exclaimed Josh, pretending to clap his hands. “But chances are, there’ll be something of a reward offered for the apprehension of the thieves, and the safe return of the money,” persisted George, although less strenuously than before. “Well, what of that?” remarked Herb. “We ain’t officers of the law, sworn to take all sorts of risks, just because some bad men get away with the funds of any old country bank, are we? Let ’em lock up things better, or hire a night watchman as the people in our town do[74] these days. Guess that goes, eh, Jack?” “It certainly strikes at the root of the matter, as Professor Mapes would say, Herb,” replied the other, quietly. “And then again, how do we know but what circumstances might arise to make us take a hand in the game? What more likely than that those same fellows would pick on this island to hide for a while, until the chase for them gets played out.” “Great brain, Jack!” cried Buster; “that’s as true as smoke. Fellers like them are dead sure to know that Bedloe’s Island’s got a bad name among honest folks; and that it’d be the boss hide-out for a couple of crooks that thought the officers might be rushin’ up and down the river looking for ’em.” “Yes,” added Herb, “and if they’re as smart as we think they are, chances’d be they would have brought some paint along with ’em, too.” “Paint?” ejaculated Josh, “now, I c’n understand why Mr. Kedge, the boatbuilder who owns the shed where we kept our craft all winter, has to have that stuff around because he is in the business of fixing up all sorts—say, looky here. Herb, d’ye mean they’d want to change their boat from white to something else; is that your smart idea?” Herb just nodded his head. He was not much[75] given to talk; but once in a while could be depended on to break in with a suggestion; and as a rule what Herb said was worth listening to. “Fine!” exclaimed George, always ready to admit the fact when one of his mates really had a good idea. “That’s where your head is level, Herb, me bye!” declared Andy. Jack smiled, and nodded, as though he considered it a point well taken. What more natural than that two smart rogues, trying to escape after committing such a bold robbery, and traveling in such a conspicuous boat, should think to prepare themselves with a pot of black or gray paint, with which to completely alter the appearance of their craft while hiding in some secluded spot, such as the island in the middle of the river afforded? “Well, we can keep that idea in mind,” Jack went on to say, “and for one night set a watch, so that if they should happen along we’d know it.” “Huh! that makes me feel bad!” grunted Josh. “What about?” demanded Buster. “Here I’ve been counting on having the jolliest old camp fire the first night out you ever heard tell of. Been dreaming about it for a[76] week past, and seein’ the flames shootin’ up, with the sparks sailin’ away out over the river; and here you go and throw cold water on that scheme right in the start. No camp fire tonight! Why, half of the fun’d be lost if we had to do the same thing every night, Jack, believe me.” Josh did not look very happy over the gloomy prospect; so Jack had to cheer him up the best way possible. “It would only be for the one night, I reckon, Josh,” he remarked, consolingly, “and if nothing happens before morning, why, after that you can make fires to the limit of the wood on the island, if only you don’t burn us all out.” “Oh! well,” Josh went on to say, “if all the rest of you look at it that way, course I’ve got to give in, because majority rules in this club, always. So let the fire die out if you want; I’m not going to bother putting another stick on it. Guess, with our sweaters and coats we c’n be warm enough as we sit here and talk.” “But all of us ain’t got sweaters,” exclaimed Buster, shiveringly, “’less somebody happens to have my blue moon one stickin’ at the bottom of his bag. Now, don’t everybody get mad at what I’m sayin’, and turn on me savagely. Course I mean that it might a-got in there just[77] by accident like. And I’d be ever so much obliged if you’d look and see. A sweater is a mighty fine thing to have sometime, which right now is one of ’em; and when you don’t find it, you feel as blue as that moon mine had on the breast.” Jack obligingly turned out all the contents of his bag, as did Andy and Herb, but Josh and George disdained to bother, saying they just knew it was no use, as they had a complete record of every lasting thing that was in their kits, and what was the need anyway; because a fellow as careless as Buster chose to leave one of his useful garments hanging somewhere in that boat builder’s shed, for he was always forgetting to fasten the lockers of his boat when he left it, and everything like that; why should they be put to such a nuisance? But Buster eyed the pair suspiciously, especially Josh. Truth to tell, it was on this individual that the burden of his belief fell; for was not the other continually trying to play a trick on him? “All right, I’ll know before a great while,” Buster was saying to himself, as he lay back, having wrapped his blanket around his shoulders, in order to ward off the chill breeze that found its way to them, in spite of the fact that trees[78] and underbrush lay in dense masses between the northern end of the island and the spot which they had chosen for their camp. They talked for a while, but by degrees it might have been noticed that for some unknown reason their voices gradually became more and more subdued; though if asked the cause for this hardly any one could have ventured an explanation. But possibly the subject they had recently been discussing, in connection with the chances of the two suspects making for the island, in order to lie there for some days, while they changed the color of their boat from white to black, may have had an influence on them all. George was of course bothering his head about his one favorite pastime, and trying to puzzle out just how he could do something to his tricky engine in order to get more speed out of it, and at the same time stop its balky ways. Buster, on his part, was perhaps making a mental calculation concerning the amount of stores they had brought along; for he had a dim suspicion that before they wished to return home the stock would fall low, and the whole of them be put on short rations; a thing that would seem very much like a calamity to Buster. And each one of the others seemed to have something on his mind; for presently absolute[79] silence had fallen on the little group. This was a most unusual occurrence, for as a rule several of the boys dearly loved to hear themselves speaking, and would air their views at the slightest excuse for doing so. Jack, sitting there in what seemed to be a reverie, had his head against the trunk of a good-sized tree. This may have acted as a conductor of sound, for he seemed to catch a certain noise before any of the others did; and none of them could be accused of dull hearing, either. “Hark, everybody!” he said suddenly, in a low, thrilling tone, that seemed to startle his companions, for everyone of them sat up straight. “What did you think you heard, Jack?” whispered Buster, unconsciously lowering his voice. “Something that sounded like the gurgling of water against the side of a boat, and voices in the bargain,” replied the other. “There, if you try, you can get the same thing yourself. Seems to me there are push poles being used to turn a boat in against the shore up above here a little ways.” All of them strained their ears. A minute, two of them, passed, and they heard the swishing sounds Jack mentioned, each being followed by[80] a “plunk,” as of a pole being dropped into the water for another push. Then a voice, rather soft and melodious, came drifting to their ears. “That’ll do, Jenks; we can tie up to the shore here, all right, and in the morning look for a suitable cove to lay the boat in, while we get to work, and make the changes. Just think of it breaking down above this island again. Only for the old bunch of ground sticking out here in the river we’d have had to anchor. And, Jenks, I guess we might as well bury that box here as tote it any further, you know. I hate to leave a thing I cared for so much behind, but it can’t be helped.” <hr class="chap" /> [81] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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