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The cabin was lighted, in day time, by side ports and a barred transom overhead. The ports were too small to permit of a man forcing his way through. Even though they broke the gla.s.s overhead, the prisoners in the cabin would still have iron bars to overcome. Tom Halstead, with his club, could hinder any work at that point.
In the meantime, the "Restless," once out of the cove, was bounding over the waves like a thing of life. Though the water had been hard to swim through, it did not present a rough sea for a fifty-five foot power boat.
In less than three minutes Engineer Joe Dawson was sounding his auto whistle like mad as he neared the dock at Lonely Island.
Just as the boat glided in, under decreased headway, to the dock the bungalow door was seen to open. Powell Seaton, shot-gun in hand, appeared on the porch. He watched, not knowing whether friend or foe commanded the "Restless." Mr. Seaton, himself, was made to stand out brightly in the middle of the searchlight ray that Joe turned upon him, yet he could not see who was behind that light.
Running the boat in, bow-on, Joe leaped ash.o.r.e with the hawser. Making fast only at the bow, he next raced up the board walk, shouting the news to Mr. Seaton. The latter, with a hail of delight, darted toward the dock, arriving barely behind Dawson.
Down in the cabin the din of the men trying to escape had redoubled.
Powell Seaton tramped hurriedly aft, while Tom and Joe fell in behind him with heavy tread, to give the rascals below an idea that numerous reinforcements had arrived.
Bang! Pausing before the hatch Mr. Seaton raised the shot-gun to his shoulder, discharging a single sh.e.l.l. Hastily slipping one into the magazine of the weapon to replace the fired one, Seaton shouted sternly:
"Stop your nonsense down there! If you get out it will be only to run into the muzzles of fire-arms. You fellows are fairly caught!"
There was a startled silence, followed by indistinct mutterings. Not even Anson Dalton, it appeared, cared to brave what looked like too certain death.
Tom held a whispered consultation with his employer, then stepped over to young b.u.t.ts.
"Hank, we're going to leave you on sh.o.r.e. Mr. Seaton will come along with the gun. Keep your eyes open--until you see us again! Don't be caught napping. Remember, you and Dr. Cosgrove have the whole protection of that helpless man, Clodis, _in_ your hands."
Hank b.u.t.ts made a wry face for a moment. He would have much preferred to see the present adventure through. Yet, a second later, the Long Island boy bounded to the dock, then stood to cast off the bow-line.
After the line had come aboard, Joe Dawson again took his place at the wheel, turning on the speed gradually as the boat rounded out past the island, then turned in toward the mainland.
It was about five miles, in a direct westerly course, to the sh.o.r.e, but by an oblique, northwesterly course a fishing village some nine miles away could be reached.
"Steer for the fishing village," nodded Powell Seaton. Captain Tom hurried forward to give the order, adding: "Make it at full speed, Joe. If you have to go to the engine, call me forward to take the wheel."
Soon afterwards Tom slipped into the motor room, rubbed down and got on dry clothing. Joe, in turn, did likewise, afterward returning to the wheel.
Down in the cabin all had been quiet for some minutes after the discharge of the gun on deck. Yet Captain Tom, by peeping through the transom, discovered the heads of Dalton and some of his rough men close together in consultation.
"I'll annoy them a bit," chuckled the young skipper, moving swiftly forward. Dropping down into the motor room he switched off all the cabin lights. An instant roar of anger came from below.
"Funny we didn't think of that before," grinned Dawson, as Halstead came up out of the motor room.
"It'll bother the rascals a bit," chuckled Captain Tom back over his shoulder.
With such a boat as the "Restless" ordinary distances are swiftly covered. It was barely twenty-five minutes after leaving the dock that Joe reached the entrance to the little harbor around which the houses of the fishing village cl.u.s.tered, nor had much speed been used.
Now the whistle sounded steadily, in short, sharp blasts. Moreover, Dawson managed to send the distress signal with the searchlight. By the time he slowed down speed, then reversed, to make the little wharf, a dozen men had hurried down to the sh.o.r.e.
"What's wrong?" hailed one of them.
"Get the sheriff, or a sheriff's officer!" shouted back Powell Seaton.
"Be quick about it, one of you, please, and the rest of you stay here to help us."
Joe sent the bow hawser flying ash.o.r.e, Tom doing the same with the stern line. Willing hands caught both ropes, making them fast around snubbing posts. As two men started away on the run, the rest of the bystanders came crowding aboard, filled with curiosity.
"What happens to be wrong on board?" demanded one bronzed fisherman.
"We've a cabin full of pirates, or rascals about as bad," returned Mr.
Seaton, grimly.
"Men of this coast?" asked another speaker.
"Yes, evidently," nodded Mr. Seaton, whom the new-comers had recognized as the owner of Lonely Island.
"Then they must be the crew of the 'Black Betty,'" commented the first speaker.
"Is that a black, fifty-foot schooner, low in the water, narrow and carrying tall masts with a heavy spread of canvas?" interposed Tom Halstead.
"Yes," nodded the fisherman. "That's the 'Black Betty.' She claims to be a fishing boat, but we're ready to bet she's a smuggler. She carries nine men, including Captain Dave Lemly."
"I reckon we've got most of the 'Black Betty' outfit below, then,"
declared Captain Halstead. "Or else--gracious!"
For, at that moment, the cracked hatch gave in with a smash. Powell Seaton had neglected to remain on guard closely. There was a surge of the prisoners below.
"Halstead, you'll hear from me again--and so will your crew!" shouted Anson Dalton out of the press of struggling men that formed on the after deck. "I won't let you forget me, Halstead!"
There was a splash past the rail. Dalton had gone overboard, followed by two of his companions.
CHAPTER VII
POWELL SEATON'S BAD CASE OF "FORGET"
"Don't let any more get away!" called Powell Seaton, excitedly.
Tom Halstead promptly leaped at one of the rough fugitives just as the latter was trying to reach the wharf. Another one Joe Dawson grabbed.
Several of the fishermen sprang to help. For a minute or two there was a good deal of confusion. When matters quieted down, it was found that Halstead and Dawson, with the fishermen helping, had secured five of the rough lot.
Powell Seaton, by threatening with his shot-gun, had induced a sixth to swim ash.o.r.e. But Anson Dalton and another man, believed to be Captain Dave Lemly of the "Black Betty," had escaped, swimming under water in the darkness. They must have come to the surface at some point not far away, yet, in the black darkness of the night, they managed to escape safely for the time being, at any rate.
The six men thus arrested were forced inside a ring of the fishermen, whose numbers had been greatly increased by new arrivals. Powell Seaton, his shot-gun on his shoulder, now patrolled close to the human ring. Three or four men hurried with Tom and Joe on a quest for Anson Dalton and the latter's companion in flight.
In less than a quarter of an hour one of the messengers who had first hurried away returned with a deputy sheriff, who brought several pairs of handcuffs. A justice of the peace was aroused at his home, and held the prisoners over for trial, after Powell Seaton had preferred against them a charge of stealing the yacht that was under his charter.
The search for Dalton and his companion was given up, for it became plain that both had succeeded in their effort to get away.
"It's altogether too bad," sighed Mr. Seaton, on coming out of the justice's house. "However, we can be thankful for what success we have had. We have the boat back and have balked Dalton's rascals in what they were planning for to-night."
"Are you going back to Lonely Island now, sir?" asked Captain Tom.