The Go Ahead Boys on Smugglers' Island Part 8

"Yes, my man is at the dock with his skiff."

"All right," said Fred. "Go right down there and we'll all be down in a minute."

"Well, Captain," said John, when the boys approached the dock and found their boat already at hand. "We're going to take a couple more pa.s.sengers."

"Who are they?" growled the captain.

"Why, this man, Mr. b.u.t.ton. He wants us to take him over to Drummond Island. He doesn't know whether he will come back again with us or not."

"My guide says he will ride in the skiff," suggested Mr. b.u.t.ton.

"That won't be necessary, unless he wants to," said Fred.

"That's the way we'll go," said Mr. b.u.t.ton quietly, and at once the five pa.s.sengers took their places on board the swift, little _Gadabout_.

"What's the matter with the captain?" whispered Grant in a low voice to Fred as soon as the motor-boat had put out from the dock.

"I don't know. Why?"

"Look at him, that's all. He's grouchy or else he's afraid. He looks to me as if he wasn't very enthusiastic over the addition to the list of pa.s.sengers."

"It doesn't make any difference whether he is or not. We chartered the boat and can do what we please with it."

Whether or not the captain was suspicious of the newcomer, the boys gave no further attention to him. In a brief time they were drawn to the newcomer, whose knowledge of the region and whose stories of the early days at once appealed strongly to his young listeners.

"Yes, sir," said Mr. b.u.t.ton. "There have been some stirring scenes up around Mackinac Island. To my mind it is one of the most beautiful spots in the United States, and, standing just as it does where the lakes join, I do not wonder that the Indians did not want to give it up and that the French and English fought over it the way they did. There's a very interesting story of the defense of the old fort. It is published I believe, in a little pamphlet and my advice to you is to get a copy and read it before you go home."

"We'll do that," said Grant enthusiastically.

"When we get back," laughed George, "Grant's head is going to be so full of the information that he has picked up about the lakes and Mackinac Island, that the rest of us won't have to do any work, except to keep him quiet."

"By the way, Mr. b.u.t.ton," said Fred, "did you find out anything more about that letter?"

To the surprise of the boys the captain appeared at that moment, glaring angrily at Fred and turning about several times after he had started back to his place at the wheel.

"It was a strange letter," said Mr. b.u.t.ton, "but I am accustomed to such things. It is a part of my business."

All four boys looked at him questioningly, but he smiled slightly without satisfying their curiosity at the time.

"As I was saying," he continued, "there have been some very exciting adventures around Mackinac Island. Perhaps I will tell you something about them before long. Just now I should like to have you tell me about your trip yesterday. Did you have good luck?"

"It depends upon how you look at it," said John with a laugh. "We caught all the fish we wanted for our luncheon, but we had a terrific thunder storm out there that drove us ash.o.r.e in the afternoon. At least Fred and I were driven ash.o.r.e."

"You were wise lads to run before the gale."

"You needn't charge us with the wisdom," laughed Fred. "It was the mate that had it. We were lucky enough to have him with us and he took us ash.o.r.e over at c.o.c.kburn Island. We weren't so lucky when we landed, though, because our skiff was all stove in and we had to leave it when we came away."

"How did you get away?"

"Why, the other fellows took the Gadabout and began to look for us after the storm died out and then they came ash.o.r.e for us in their skiff."

"How far is it between Drummond Island and c.o.c.kburn?"

"Two or three miles. That's about all, isn't it, Captain?" said John turning abruptly about as the captain's face once more was seen peering eagerly at the company seated in the stern.

"That's about it," drawled the captain. "Have you never been there?" he added, looking directly at Mr. b.u.t.ton as he spoke.

"I'm looking forward with great pleasure to the trip," replied Mr.

b.u.t.ton, quietly, apparently ignoring the question that had been asked.

"You don't think we are likely to have another storm, to-day, do you?"

"No," said the captain abruptly, as once more he turned to his work.

"Tell me about c.o.c.kburn Island," said Mr. b.u.t.ton, speaking to the boys.

"Is it inhabited? Are there many people living there?"

"I don't know," said John. "We didn't see very much of it. We found a little shanty, or shack, not far from the sh.o.r.e and when we saw smoke coming out of the chimney we went up there thinking that we might dry our clothes, for we were wet through."

"Did you find anybody there?"

"Yes, that's the strange part of it," explained John. "The old shanty, that looked almost as if it would fall to pieces, was pretty well fixed up inside. There was a man there and he had a j.a.panese servant. Indeed, I am sure I saw the man at the harbor this morning. At least I thought it was the same man, but he didn't speak to me, so I couldn't be sure after all."

Conversation ceased for a time and it was not until they had arrived off the sh.o.r.e of Drummond Island that Mr. b.u.t.ton said, "I think I will leave you here. I want to thank you again for your kindness in bringing me."

"Where are you going?" demanded the captain, who again approached the group.

"I'm going to leave the _Gadabout_ here," explained Mr. b.u.t.ton.

"Where you going? There's no good fishing here."

"I'm going to trust my guide for that," explained Mr. b.u.t.ton, pointing as he spoke to the man in whose skiff he was to depart. This man was now seated in his little skiff about one hundred feet astern of the _Gadabout_.

"Fetch him up then," said the captain. "I'll stop the _Gadabout_ and let you off."

In spite of the captain's manifest effort to appear at ease it was plain to his young pa.s.sengers that he still was angry or alarmed over the presence of Mr. Ferdinand b.u.t.ton. What the connection was between the two not one of the boys was able to conjecture.

Their attention, however, was speedily drawn to the skiff which Mr.

b.u.t.ton now hauled in and as soon as it was drawn alongside he stepped lightly on board.

It was impossible for any of the boys to see the face of the guide, who at the time was bending low over a box which contained the fishing tackle. It was only later when John reminded the other boys of the strange coincidence between the excitement of the captain and the inability of all to see the face of the guide in Mr. b.u.t.ton's boat, that they recalled it.

"There isn't any fishing here," again shouted the captain.

Apparently Mr. b.u.t.ton was not greatly impressed by the knowledge of the captain, for ignoring his words, he seated himself in the stern of the skiff and prepared to begin his trolling.

Meanwhile the _Gadabout_ was belying her name, as now she was only drifting slowly with the current.

"Come on, Captain," called Fred at last. "We're ready to start."