An Annapolis First Classman Part 20

With zeal born of fear and desperation, the three men worked frantically, and very soon the gasoline boat was chugging down the stream. And none too soon, for two men now standing near where the gasoline boat had been secured were shouting for them to return. With pallid faces the three men confronted one another.

"What is to be done?" asked one.

"Let's land somewhere on Round Bay sh.o.r.e, turn the kid adrift and run,"

ventured a second one. "We'll be caught in this boat; our only hope is to separate and each of us try to get away by himself."

"We'll do nothing of the kind," retorted the red-bearded man; "we will stick to this boat; we'll follow the original programme. What chance would I have? That chap saw me plainly and everybody in six counties would look for a man with red whiskers. No, sir! Those two men are left on the sh.o.r.e; they are miles from a telephone; we'll be halfway across Chesapeake Bay before they can communicate with anybody, and there are so many launches in the Severn River that we won't be noticed. That's the only thing to do, fellows."

"It's twenty years in prison if we're caught," remarked one with a gasp.

"Stop your sniveling! Cheer up! We'll be on the Eastern Sh.o.r.e to-night, and once there I defy anybody to find us."

These three men were the kidnappers of little Georgie Thompson.

Seemingly their plans had been perfectly laid. Two of them had driven from Baltimore in a roundabout way to a place near Indian Landing, arriving there at night. One of these, with Georgie, had stolen that same night to where the gasoline launch had been brought by the third man. The other had gone further on and turned adrift the horse and buggy they had driven from Baltimore and joined the launch later. Had it not been for the loss of the gasoline the boat would already have been on the other side of Chesapeake Bay. More gasoline had been secured, and this cowardly trio had determined to wait until dark before leaving their hiding-place.

The gasoline launch shot out of No Man's Creek and swung into the Severn River. Soon Round Bay was reached and the launch struck across the centre of it and, keeping at equal distance from either sh.o.r.e, ran down the river at full speed. They attracted no notice on their way and soon the railroad bridge was pa.s.sed, then the county bridge and they were abreast of the Naval Academy grounds. No pa.s.sing boats seemed at all interested in their movements, and the men felt easier. In but a short time they would be out of the river and on their way across Chesapeake Bay. Hardly a word had been spoken on this fast trip down the river, but desperate fear gripped each man's heart. Little Georgie was now crying softly; he did not realize what was happening, did not comprehend what these strange men were doing beyond their statement that they were taking him to his father, but they were a long time about it and he was hungry and uncomfortable. There was something terrifying in it all to the little boy and now and again he would sob bitterly.

When opposite the lower part of the Naval Academy grounds the gasoline engine suddenly stopped. With a fierce exclamation of fear and rage the red-bearded man jumped to the engine and tried to start it again, but with no success.

"Everything seems to be all right here," he said in a low, intense way; "the spark is all right,"--then in a voice of fright he said, "This c.o.c.k doesn't show there is any gasoline in the feed pipe; see if there is any in the tank."

"Not a drop," exclaimed the other in a terrified voice; "this rotten tank has sprung another leak."

"Get out an oar and make for that sloop," cried the red-bearded man.

Fifty feet away was a sloop yacht anch.o.r.ed; her sail was all spread, though the sheets were not belayed. A fresh breeze was blowing down the Severn; this helped the gasoline boat, and with the aid of the oars it was soon alongside the sloop. "Jump aboard, quick with you," cried the leader; "come along, Georgie; run forward, Jim, and heave up the anchor; never mind our boat--we've no time to lose--I'll look out for the sheets and helm."

With a practiced hand the man with the red beard grabbed the tiller.

They found n.o.body aboard--but the sails being loosed and no small boat being alongside it was likely that a party to go sailing would soon be pulled off from the sh.o.r.e to the yacht.

The anchor was hove up to the bows in a moment, the head of the yacht swung round, the sails filled, and she was off with a bound.

With a critical eye the man at the helm trimmed the different sails, set the trysail and then heaved a sigh of profound relief.

"I think we're safe," he said; "h.e.l.lo, there's a navy ship on the port bow, and another one several miles away on the starboard bow. I'll steer between--they don't know anything about us--they won't bother us."

While the superintendent of the Naval Academy was sitting at his desk this same afternoon, his telephone bell rang.

"h.e.l.lo, what is it?" he asked.

"Is this the superintendent?"

"Yes."

"This is Halstead, aboard the 'Santee.'"

"What is it, Halstead?"

"Sir, the quartermaster has reported that a gasoline launch went alongside the 'Robert Centre' a few minutes ago and several people got out of the launch and went aboard the yacht; the gasoline launch is now drifting down the river and the 'Robert Centre' is tearing out into the bay."

"Who were the people that got out of the launch?"

"The quartermaster says they were strangers. One was a man with a red beard, and a little boy was along."

"Had anybody intended to take the 'Robert Centre' out to-day?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Brooks and some friends of his. They are now being pulled out in the river in the 'Centre's' boat. What shall I do, sir?"

"Hoist the 'Robert Centre's' recall. Secure the gasoline launch and keep it awaiting my orders. Have the quartermaster keep a good lookout on the 'Robert Centre' to see where she goes. Have you any steamer you could send for her?"

"No, sir, the 'Standish' is out with the 'Nevada.'"

"I think you'll find that the matter will be explained; it was probably a party of young officers out for a lark and a sail. Or it may have been some friends of officers; it will no doubt come out all right."

Half an hour later the superintendent was again called up by the telephone.

"This is the superintendent. What is it?" he asked.

"I am Detective Cross, a Pinkerton detective. I traced the kidnappers of the Thompson boy to No Man's Creek, near the Severn, below Indian Landing. They saw me and shoved their boat off in a hurry, and went down river. The boy is with them. I've had a time finding a telephone in this forsaken country; keep a lookout for a green gasoline launch; it has a cabin in it--three kidnappers and Georgie Thompson were in the----" But the superintendent had heard enough and, ringing off the speaker, he commenced to do some rapid telephoning on his own account.

CHAPTER XX

SIX-POUNDER TARGET PRACTICE

Graduation day drew near, bringing exultant happiness to Robert Drake.

Not many more things could occur to him--the annual examinations were soon to be held, but these brought no terrors to Robert's mind. Most of the drills had been finished, and the first and second companies were now neck and neck in compet.i.tion for the first place, with Blair's company slightly in the lead. The final standing now depended upon the records these respective companies made at target practice.

Annapolis was now in ribboned and bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned glory. Proudly the brigade of midshipmen marched each afternoon for dress parade, and on the walks viewing them was much fluttering loveliness. Then, after dismissal, came pleasant, even if short, strolls through the grounds, in and about the shady walks.

Robert was happy because of four years of hard work well done and well appreciated. He loved the place. Every tree on the grounds was an old friend, and every spot near and about old Annapolis called up pleasant memories.

The important things yet to occur were target practice, the first cla.s.s german, graduation, and the great June ball.

Among the midshipmen there were a few, however, who were not happy at this time. Among them was Harry Blunt; in danger of failing in mathematics, disturbed by reproachful looks from his mother and sister and worried by severe letters from his father, he commenced to have an anxious appearance, and actually abandoned the gaieties that were now thrust into midshipman life in favor of much neglected books; the dreaded annual examinations were almost upon him.

Midshipman Bligh, though also in the same precarious position, seemed to lose some of the gloom he had been carrying about him and become more normal. He went into the city of Annapolis at every opportunity and always came back with a grateful heart; for Bligh had found a friend who believed in him, and this friend had rescued Bligh from the pit of despondency and terrible sadness into which he had descended.

"Say, Bob," remarked Stonewell one day, "have you noticed that fellow Bligh of late?"

"I never happen to think of him. What about him?"

"Nothing much, except that I am constantly meeting him. He never seems to look at me, but whenever I go out in town nowadays he's pretty sure to be standing at the Maryland Avenue gate; and then later, half the time I go out I meet him somewhere. This has happened so often of late that I can't help but feel he's interested in where I go."

"Lots of people are interested in where you go, Stone; every day somebody asks me why you go out so much alone. For years we have gone out together, but now you never want me."