The Rival Campers Part 31

"Indeed it is," said the man to himself.

Then he rowed down the sh.o.r.e for about a mile farther, turned into a sheltered cove, rowed his boat alongside a black sloop that lay moored there, climbed aboard, dragged the boat aboard, and waited for an hour or so, till a faint breeze stole across the water. Then he hoisted sail on the sloop and drifted slowly out of the cove; drifted slowly away from the island, and was swallowed up in the night.

CHAPTER XV.

GOOD FOR EVIL

The yacht _Spray_, arriving home again in the harbour of Southport, two days following the discovery made by Henry Burns, had created somewhat of a sensation: first, because, on account of the storm, there had been felt considerable alarm for the little boat, and, second, because of the story that the boys had to tell.

The finding of the letter "E" confirmed their story, so that there could be no room for doubt that the yacht _Eagle_ had been secreted there in the Thoroughfare and refitted. The question now was, had the man who had done this left the bay and gone on his voyage, or had he chosen, for some purpose or other, to linger in some part of the great bay till a later time.

Henry Burns now told the story of the man they had seen at the foot of Grand Island, how he had sailed in and out of the harbour so mysteriously, how he seemed to avoid them, and how there had apparently been none other than he aboard the black yacht.

Most of the people of the village were inclined to the belief that the man Chambers had gone out to sea as soon as he had altered his yacht so that it would escape detection in such harbours as he would be obliged to make. There was no possible reason why he should return, they said, and every reason in the world why he should get away from that part of the coast as soon as he could.

There were plenty of black yachts, they argued, that would answer the general description of the yacht seen by the boys at the foot of the island; and, as for sailing out and away in the night, that was a thing commonly done among fishermen, to take advantage of wind and tide when it was important that they should reach a certain port on time.

Still, there were one or two yachts that set out cruising about the bay, on the chance of running into the mysterious craft, and they cruised about for a week or more. Every strange sail that looked as though it might belong to a yacht of the size of the _Eagle_ was pursued, until it had either outsailed the pursuers and disappeared, or until a nearer view had proven that it was not the hunted craft.

By the end of two weeks the village was well satisfied that Chambers and the yacht _Eagle_ were far away, and had ceased to think of him, except as a group gathered of an evening about the village grocery-store and talked of that for lack of something better.

In the meantime, when the excitement was at its height, the Warren boys in their yacht, and Tom and Bob in their canoe, took a hand in the search. Even Henry Burns took an occasional spin on his bicycle down to the foot of the island of an evening, and wandered along the sh.o.r.e in the hope of catching a glimpse once more of the sail he had seen that night in the harbour. Just what he expected to do in case he should see it, he did not know, himself; still, it might be that he could spread the alarm and start some of the boats out after any suspicious craft that he saw.

For the time being it was in all the air. n.o.body talked of anything else.

It was really more because people dearly love a mystery than that they actually believed the _Eagle_ was still in the bay; but the talk sufficed to keep the boys at fever-heat, and Henry Burns firmly believed that he had seen the _Eagle_ that night.

Tom and Bob were indefatigable for ten days in searching on their own account. They would take their canoe in the afternoon, paddle down five or six miles along the sh.o.r.e of the island, land in some lonely spot, haul the canoe on sh.o.r.e, and then continue along on foot for a mile or two, coming up cautiously to some cove with which they had become familiar in their trips through the summer, only to find it empty of sails, or some fishing-boat lying snug for the night, and which could by no means be mistaken for the craft of which they were in search.

Again, they would paddle down to the Narrows, carry the canoe over into the western bay, leave it hidden until sundown, and then go down along the sh.o.r.e on that side of the island, repeating their walk along the sh.o.r.e. Some days they left the canoe hidden for the night away down the island, and came back to the village afoot along the road, going after it afoot the next night, and retracing their search of the night before, thus varying the search in a dozen different ways.

But the result was always the same. It seemed this time as though the _Eagle_, if it had, indeed, ever lingered in the bay, had gone for good.

What might have been the result if those who sailed in search of the mysterious craft had known that the description they now had of her was at fault, can never be known. Be that as it might, the exact yacht that Henry Burns and his friends had seen down at the foot of the island no longer existed. In its place there sailed-somewhere, on some waters-a handsome, black yacht, with a tall, slender, glistening topmast, white sails, and gleaming bra.s.s, in place of the dingy, dirty fisherman. She was as fine and handsome, and as polished as to deck and fittings, as the _Eagle_ had been of yore, only her colour remained as it had been changed-black.

Was this boat the _Eagle_? Those who sailed the bay in quest of her had no means of knowing, for if they ever did get sight of her it was but a far, fleeting, shadowy glance. They never came within miles of her, this fleet, beautiful, and disappearing yacht. Across her stern in letters of gold was the name _Sprite_. It may have been most appropriate, for now and then a distant view of her tempted some bay craft to follow; but it was like a dog pursuing a bird on the wing. She always drifted on and on, out of reach, and disappeared.

Since the night when the man that rowed Jack Harvey across the bay had climbed aboard this yacht and sailed southward, the yacht had never ventured near Grand Island, nor within miles and miles of it. If the man Chambers had any plan which he meant to execute, it did not suit his purpose to attempt it at this time. He had, perhaps, achieved all he desired now, in familiarizing himself with the waters of this coast.

Of all those who joined in the search for the strange yacht, there was none more enthusiastic nor persistent than Jack Harvey. No sooner had his own yacht been brought back from Bellport by the crew, than he stocked up with a week's provisions and began cruising day and night. To be sure, it was a most uncertain chase, but Harvey was willing to take chances that others would not; and if he should by mistake intercept some respectable craft for a few brief moments, he would rely on his a.s.surance to carry him through and explain matters.

Harvey had, moreover, a critical eye for a good boat, and had noted the _Eagle_, when it had been in the harbour, with more than pa.s.sing interest, and was certain now that he should know her again, even with a change of rig. Besides, he had the description furnished by Henry Burns and the other boys of the yacht they had seen, which corresponded in size with the _Eagle_.

He had never been so aroused about anything before in all his life. The adventure that Henry Burns and the others had had with the two men that had been caught was an experience after his own heart. He would have given his whole summer's fun to take part in that capture. But all the glory of that had been denied him; now he made a resolve that if any one succeeded in finding the vanished yacht it should be he.

His activity was not destined to go all for naught, either, for on at least one occasion he was satisfied in his own mind that he had met with the yacht,-yes, and nearly come to close quarters with the man that sailed it.

It was miles below Grand Island, for Harvey had for some days made up his mind that the man he sought had left the bay, since he had scoured it east and west and north and south in vain. It was down among some islands that lay out of the much travelled part of the bay, and not far from the Gull Island Thoroughfare. It was, in fact, just at the outer rim of the bay, where several channels through a chain of islands led out to sea.

There were three of the crew aboard besides Harvey, only little Tim being left ash.o.r.e to guard the camp.

They had been cruising all evening among these islands, for it was a part of the coast with which Harvey was very familiar. They were carrying no lights, for the chances of being run down here were small, and, besides, it was a part of Harvey's plan to be able to approach any chance craft un.o.bserved.

It had come on rainy, and the crew were for putting in at some harbour and lying snug, but Harvey would not hear of it. He had sailed until near midnight for about a week, and did not like to give it up.

However, as a concession to his crew, and as it bade fair to blow up a nasty sea before many hours, Harvey had consented to beat back and forth under the lee of a small unnamed island, keeping a lookout down the bay for the little distance they could see through the rain.

It seemed that some other craft was also willing to take the risk of sailing without lights, for, along about ten o'clock, a yacht, that might or might not be the one for which they sought, was beating up toward the island, with all dark on board. All at once the man that sat at the wheel left his boat for a moment to itself, so that it headed up into the wind with sails flapping, while he darted down into the cabin.

He was gone only for a moment, but in that brief moment that he was below a light flashed in the cabin,-only a fleeting gleam of light, and then all was dark again.

This gleam of light, transient as it was, had sufficed, however, for the sharp lookout aboard the _Surprise_.

Harvey seized Joe Hinman by the shoulder and whispered, as he steered the _Surprise_ out from behind the end of the island: "Did you see that, Joe?

Did you see it? There's something coming up. Everybody keep quiet now!"

There was an excited group that crouched silently in the c.o.c.kpit of the _Surprise_ as she swung out from under the lee of the island and headed straight for the spot where they had seen the flash of light, running almost before the wind.

Whatever the craft was, it seemed as if they must surely catch it, leaping out as they had from the darkness. All at once they saw the dark outline of a yacht almost dead ahead, and saw for a moment the shadow of its sails, a faint blur through the rain.

Then the yacht veered about suddenly, and they saw the white crush of water as it heeled over, and, running with the wind on its quarter, was gone, like a boat that had vanished. So sudden and so silent was the manuvre that they could hardly realize that the yacht had, indeed, turned like a flash and run away. They followed for a moment, but, seeing how useless it was, Harvey soon gave up the chase and went back to harbour, beaten but not discouraged.

"That was the man we want," he said, as they came to in the nearest harbour that night. "No other craft would have gone off its course that way. And to think we were almost upon him."

"Yes, but I don't see what good it would have done us to have come up with him, if it was the man," replied Allan Harding. "We could only have taken a look aboard. What else could we have done?"

"I'll tell you what," answered Harvey, emphatically. "It would have done a lot of good. I tell you that wherever and whenever I meet that yacht, whether it's night or day, I'm going to run alongside, and you fellows and I are going aboard. I've been doing things to be ashamed of long enough,-not that I'm ashamed of them, either, as I know of. Only they have been things that I didn't dare tell of afterward, and I'm sort of tired of it. I tell you, I want to do something for once that I can boast of and that people won't hate me for. That's why I'm so anxious about this, if you must know it."

"Whew!" cried Joe Hinman. "That's something new for you, Jack. I didn't suppose your conscience ever troubled you."

"It don't," said Harvey, angrily.

But perhaps it did.

By the end of a few days more, Harvey had given up the search, convinced that they had seen the last of the black yacht, if, indeed, they had seen it at all.

"I give up," he said. "I'm beaten, and that's all there is to it."

And so the idea of ever seeing the strange yacht again was given up by all. The yachts came back to harbour, and the impression became general that they had all been fooled; that what they had sought was a delusion.

Tom and Bob were the last to give up. Partly because they liked these long paddles together and the long walks along the island roads, and partly because they had helped start the renewed hunt for the yacht _Eagle_, and did not like to admit that they had made a mistake.

So they did not wholly discontinue their evening paddles nor their lonely rambles along the sh.o.r.e. It was good exercise, at all events, they argued.

One evening they started right after supper, while it was yet light, paddled down along the sh.o.r.e to the Narrows, carried across, and paddled down the island for some three miles. Then they landed and hid their canoe, as was their custom, and stretched themselves out on the beach to rest and enjoy the lights far out on the water.

It was a clear starlight night, with the bay still and restful, save for a quick gust of wind that came now and then, only to blur its surface for a moment and leave it smooth again.

"I guess we have tried this thing about often enough, haven't we, Bob?"