The Boy Aviators' Flight for a Fortune Part 18

CHAPTER XX.-FRANK'S BATTLE.

It was about midnight that Frank, for no reason that he could explain, awakened with a vague feeling of uneasiness. Try as he would he could not compose himself to sleep again, but lay awake, struggling with a sort of intuitive suspicion that all was not well with the _Sea Eagle_.

At last, so strong did his conviction become, that, although he was ridiculing his fears all the time, he arose and dressed himself, and then started out for the wharf. For a moment he thought he would rouse Harry, who slept on another bed in the same room; but in the end he decided not to disturb his brother's repose. Perhaps he had a vague fear of ridicule, but at any rate Frank crept out of the hotel alone and made his way silently down the dark and empty streets.

"This is certainly a fool's errand I'm going on," he told himself; "I suppose that my reward for my pains will be to hear some more of Plumbo's poetry, and yet-and yet, I can't help it. I couldn't sleep another wink unless I was sure that the _Sea Eagle_ was all right."

Musing thus, and minimizing his own fears, Frank came in due time to the wharf. He made his way down it and was about to step forward to descend the ladder that led to the _Sea Eagle's_ deck, when he heard something that made him pause. He recognized the sound instantly.

It was the rasp of a file!

"My gracious! Somebody _is_ tampering with the _Sea Eagle_!" exclaimed the boy to himself. "My fears were not as groundless as I thought them, after all. I wonder if that rascal Duval--"

The current of his thoughts was suddenly checked at this point by another noise near at hand. It seemed to come from behind a big pile of boxes on the wharf.

"Goodness! What's that?" thought Frank, and then for the first time it flashed across him that if more than one man was engaged in the nefarious work that he was sure was going on, he was at a serious disadvantage. He had no weapons but his hands, whereas the others were undoubtedly well armed.

"I'll slip back uptown as quickly as I can and arouse the authorities,"

he decided, "if they are quick we can catch the rascals red-handed. I wonder what can have become of that fellow Jumbo or whatever his name was? I suppose he went to sleep or something. Well, it serves us right for leaving such an eccentric fellow on guard."

Frank, who had been crouching in the shadow of the very boxes behind which he had heard the suspicious sounds, rose quickly to his feet. He was just slipping off, congratulating himself that he had been un.o.bserved when from behind the boxes a dark figure suddenly emerged.

"Hands up, Frank Chester," it exclaimed; "we've got you where we want you this time."

"Zeb Daniels!" exclaimed Frank, dumbfounded with astonishment. He had not supposed the rascally young fisherman within miles of the place.

"Yes; that's me. Don't move a step or you'll get hurt."

But Frank's indignation overcame his prudence.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded angrily.

"None of your business."

"It isn't, eh? Well I know that you are damaging Dr. Perkins' boat in some way and--"

Frank stepped deftly aside as Zeb, who was a far heavier, stronger boy than the young aviator, made a tigerish jump at him, at the same time brandishing a thick club threateningly.

But Zeb's sudden rush proved his undoing. Before he could recover his balance Frank had planted a clean, hard punch on the young ruffian's jaw, and Zeb reeled back dizzily. He recovered himself almost instantly, however, and without making a sound hurled himself at Frank once more.

In a rough and tumble fight the st.u.r.dily built fisher boy might have been a match for Frank Chester, but Frank had already gained some advantage and he met Zeb's frenzied charge coolly.

Zeb, as he got within reach, let loose a tremendous swing which, if it had struck Frank's head as his burly young opponent intended, might have laid him flat. But to his astonishment Zeb's fist met only empty air.

Frank had ducked the blow with consummate ease, and the next instant:

One! Two!-Crack! Smack! Two well-planted blows landed on Zeb's face and body. Frank was rushing in to complete his victory when he was suddenly seized from behind in a powerful grip and hurled to the ground with great violence.

Zeb's father, on board the _Sea Eagle_, had heard the disturbance, and had swiftly and silently climbed the ladder leading up on to the wharf.

Behind him, but at a prudent distance, came Duval. The Frenchman had no love for fighting, unless the odds were all in his favor, and he was by no means certain how many men might have attacked them.

The elder Daniels took in the situation in a flash, and pinioned Frank's arms, just as the latter was about to put an end to the battle. Duval saw instantly that there was no personal danger to himself, and while the elder Daniels held a grimy, leathery paw over Frank's mouth to prevent his shouting for aid, Duval pinioned the lad's lower limbs.

Helpless as a baby Frank lay there on his back, completely at the mercy of three individuals whom he had no reason to suppose would handle him gently.

While he still lay there a helpless captive, young Daniels came up, and doubling up his fist deliberately struck the helpless boy in the face.

But the elder of the Daniels angrily checked him.

"Stow that," he muttered roughly. "What's the matter with you?"

"I wanted to get even with him," whined Zeb; "he licked me and--"

"Waal, git even some other way. Bring me that rope off them pile of boxes while I make him fast."

Zeb said no more, but obediently fetched the rope, and before many minutes had pa.s.sed Frank was bound hand and foot. Moreover, a gag, consisting of a dirty fragment torn from the elder Daniels' shirt, was thrust into his mouth.

"What'll we do with him now?" demanded Zeb, when this had been done.

"Humph, I hadn't thought of that," rejoined the elder fisherman; "we can't leave him here, for we don't want any one to find him when they come down, as they are bound to do afore long when that idiot Plumbo finds out that we've fooled him. What _will_ we do with the young game c.o.c.k?"

"I'd like to chuck him overboard," quoth Zeb amiably, staunching his bleeding nose with a dirty coat sleeve.

"Don't waste time talking rubbish," angrily rejoined his parent; "see here, Duval, kain't you think of something?"

"Yes, I can," was the eager reply; "it's just occurred to me. Ho! ho! I guess that'll keep him quiet for a while."

"Well, what do you propose to do?" growled Daniels. "Don't stand there like an owl. Out with it."

"Well, my friend, you see those big barrels over there?"

"Yes, what about them?"

"We'll put him in one of those and give him a sea trip."

"By Jeehosophat, but that's a notion! I reckon by the time he's picked up, or drifts ash.o.r.e, he'll be sorry he interfered with us."

"That's a great scheme," chuckled Zeb, equally delighted. "That's what I call getting even in good shape."

"Hold on a minute; how's the tide?" murmured Daniels. "We don't want him to be picked up too quick."

"The tide's running out, pop," said Zeb, after a minute; "I tell you, though, what's the matter with putting the barrel in that dory there and then loading him in it? We can row out a ways and then dump him overside."

"That's the best idea yet," warmly approved his worthy parent; "come on, boys, tumble the barrel into that dory. Lively, now!"

The barrel, quite a big one, which had been used for salting down fish and was quite watertight, was lowered into the dory that Zeb's sharp eyes had spied with some difficulty.

Frank had watched the movements of his captors as well as he could in the darkness; but he was quite unable to guess what all this meant, which, perhaps, was just as well. As the conversation had been carried on in whispers, he had not overheard a syllable of the rascally plan to set him adrift out of pure malice.

Still bound and gagged, he was lowered into the dory, unable to call out or move, despite the now serious alarm he felt. What could the men be going to do with him, he wondered, and was still busy speculating on his probable fate when Zeb and his father cast off the dory and, with rapid strokes, began to row toward the mouth of the harbor on which Bayhaven is situated.