The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless Part 18

"Yes; I know the stream. Hardly more than a creek," replied Mr.

Seaton.

"Any deep water there, sir?"

"For only a very little way in. Then the stream moves over a pebbly bottom like a running brook."

"Then it looks, sir, as though Lemly--if he's aboard--plans to run in there and hustle ash.o.r.e."

"Or else stay and fight," hinted Powell Seaton. "The place is lonely enough for a fight, if the rascals dare try it."

"Hepton!" summoned Halstead, a few moments later. "Don't you think you'd better get up your rifle? You don't need to show it, but someone may send us a shot or two from the drab boat."

Hepton sprang below, bringing up both rifles. Crouching behind the forward deck-house, he examined the magazines of both weapons.

"We're carrying load enough for a squad o' infantry," laughed Hepton, showing his strong, white teeth. "Let those fellers on the Drab try it, if they want to see what we've got."

The seventy-footer was shutting off speed now, going slowly into the mouth of the little river. Almost immediately afterwards her reverse was applied, after which she swung at anchor.

Tom, too, without a word to Hank, who stood by the wheel, reached over, slowing the "Restless" down to a gait of something like eight miles an hour.

"What's the order, sir?" he asked, turning to Mr. Seaton. "Are we to go in and anchor alongside?"

"I--I don't want to run you young men into any too dangerous places,"

began Powell Seaton, hesitatingly. "I--I----"

"Danger's one of the things we're paid for," clicked Tom Halstead, softly. "It'll all in the charter. Do you want to go in alongside?"

"I--I----"

Bang!

The shot came so unexpectedly that the motor boat boys jumped despite themselves. Hepton c.o.c.ked one of the rifles, and was about to rise with it, when the young skipper of the "Restless" prodded the man gently with one foot.

"Don't show your guns, Hepton," murmured Tom. "Wait until we find out what that shot was meant for."

No one now appeared on board the drab seventy-footer. There had been no smoke, no whistle of a bullet by the heads of those on the bridge deck of the "Restless."

"That was intended only to make us nervous," grinned Captain Tom.

"Or else to show us that they have fire-arms," suggested Seaton.

"Well, sir, I'm headed to go in alongside, unless you give me other orders," hinted the young skipper.

"Cover about half the rest of the distance, then reverse and lie to,"

decided Powell Seaton. He now had the extra pair of marine gla.s.ses, and was attentively studying both the boat and the sh.o.r.e nearby.

Tom took the wheel himself, stopping where he had been directed. So neatly was headway corrected that the "Restless" barely drifted on the smooth water insh.o.r.e.

There was now remaining less than an hour of daylight.

"I think I understand their plan, if Dalton is on board," whispered Mr. Seaton to his young captain. "Dalton is waiting until it is dark enough to slip ash.o.r.e."

"Hm! There's one way you _could_ stop that, if you want to take all the risk," ventured Halstead, grinning thoughtfully.

"How?"

"Well, if it's the plan of anyone aboard the drab boat to slip on sh.o.r.e under cover of darkness, then I could put our tender overboard and row Hepton to one bank of the river with his rifle. Returning, I could row you to the other sh.o.r.e, you to carry the other rifle."

"That would be a bold and open move," agreed Mr. Seaton, gasping at first, then looking thoughtful. "But look at that sh.o.r.e, Halstead. See the thick trees on either bank of the river. Hepton and I couldn't watch a lot of stretch on both banks."

"With our help from the boat you could, sir."

"Again, how?"

"Why, it's shallow enough to drop anchor right here, Mr. Seaton. Then, as soon as it grows the least bit dark, we boys could keep our searchlight turned on the drab boat so that you and Hepton could see every movement on her decks. From a quarter of a mile off you could see anyone swimming ash.o.r.e and run to stop him. There's no difficulty about it, sir, except the risk."

"Hepton, I must talk that over with you," cried Powell Seaton. "I don't feel that I have any right to run you into too certain danger."

But Hepton smiled again in a way to show his white teeth.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Mr. Seaton. I feel big 'nough to take care of myself, and I enlisted for the whole game, anyway."

"You could keep watch right from this deck," Halstead added. "But then, if anyone slipped ash.o.r.e from the Drab, you couldn't get on sh.o.r.e fast enough to follow through the woods. You'd lose the trail right after the start."

"Even if I were on sh.o.r.e, and Dalton walked right by me, what could I do?" pondered Powell Seaton. "Of course, I know the sheriff of the county would take him, for going aboard this boat and breaking it loose from the dock the other night. A United States marshal might arrest Dalton, on my request, for piracy in sailing away with the boat. But would I have a right to seize Dalton and hold him--even if able?"

"You can follow him until you _do_ run Dalton into one of the law's officers," proposed Halstead.

"I believe I'm going ash.o.r.e, anyway, to see what happens," announced Mr. Seaton, after giving the matter a little more thought.

"But let me go ash.o.r.e, first, on the other bank," begged Hepton. "Then you can take second chance, sir."

"Very good, then," agreed the charter-man.

With the aid of his mates, Captain Tom had the anchor overboard, and the small tender alongside in a jiffy. Hepton stepped down into the smaller craft, carrying his rifle so that it could be seen. Tom himself took the oars to row.

"I'd better put you in on the bank to the left," whispered Halstead, and Hepton nodded.

They pa.s.sed within forty yards of the stern of the drab boat, yet not a single human being appeared on that mysterious craft.

Having put Hepton on sh.o.r.e, Halstead rowed back for Mr. Seaton.

Embarking this second pa.s.senger, Tom, this time, rowed a little closer to the seventy-footer lying at anchor in the river's mouth. Now, the head of a man unknown to either of them showed aft.

"Where you-all goin' with so many guns?" this man asked, in a half-jeering tone.

"Night hunting," retorted Tom, dryly, not feeling guilty of a lie since he was certain the other would not believe him.

Landing Mr. Seaton on the other river bank, the young captain of the "Restless" returned to his craft.