The Rival Campers Part 36

Stealing around to the second window distant from where the light came, the man took a short piece of iron from a coat pocket and proceeded to pry the window open. Its flimsy lock broke easily under the pressure, and he sprang inside. He may have known where he should find himself, for in the darkness he appeared at home. It was the hotel's storeroom, and was crowded with a litter of boxes and barrels; loose straw lay in profusion, and a barrel or two of oil stood in one corner.

It was scarce a moment from the time the man had entered till he sprang out again. But now his manner was altered. No longer proceeding with caution, he started on a run for the fields whence he had come, holding his arms hard to his sides as he ran.

Up the long slope of the hill he dashed, breathing hard, rather, it would seem, from some deep excitement than from the exertion. So he went on without interruption for nearly a mile. Had he seemed less beset by some fear that drove him recklessly on, and been more mindful of his road, he might have avoided the third person who was abroad this night, and who now suddenly loomed large in it.

Plunging desperately along through the rough pasture, following an uncertain path as it wound in and among clumps of cedars and alders, the man all at once ran full tilt into another man, or, rather, a large, heavy-set youth, and, clutching at each other, they both fell sprawling upon the ground.

"Hulloa!" exclaimed Jack Harvey, for he it was, "you seem in a confounded hurry, my friend, and that's something new on this island, I'll be bound.

Why don't you-" but, as they scrambled up together, Jack Harvey grumbling, but inclined to treat the incident as a rough joke, the man lunged out heavily at him with his fist and struck him full in the face.

Jack Harvey was no coward. He clinched with the man, and they reeled for a moment in a fierce embrace. But the man had muscles of iron, and, nerved to desperation, more than matched Harvey. Presently he threw the youth to the ground, and as Harvey struggled to his feet again he dealt him a blow between the eyes that stretched him flat, and for a moment stunned him.

Before Harvey had regained his feet and collected his senses, the man was off, running harder now than ever.

When Harvey finally stood upright, his first impulse was to set out in pursuit of his mysterious adversary. On second thought he paused a moment to consider the matter.

Who could the stranger be, and where could he be going? There was one thing Jack Harvey did know. He knew every living soul on all the island, man and boy, and this man was not of them. There was not a fisherman along this part of the coast with whom Harvey had not cast a line or raced with his yacht, the _Surprise_. He had looked the man fair in the face twice in their struggle, and thought for the moment that he had never seen him before.

He had come from some other island, or the mainland, then, and, as was evident, he was in desperate haste to return. He must, then, have a boat, presumably a sailboat, waiting for him, and that boat must be moored somewhere along the western sh.o.r.e of the island. The man's haste and fear of being delayed argued that he had been up to some bad business, "Thieving at the hotel, perhaps," said Harvey.

And then Harvey, knowing every bush and tree and nook and corner, and every rock and cove on all the sh.o.r.es of the island, ran over quickly in his mind the inlets along the coast, to pick out the most likely spot he knew of where a man might choose to moor his yacht and steal ash.o.r.e; and the proof of his accurate knowledge was that the mental picture he drew of the place was that very cove toward which the stranger was now travelling, and where there lay snugly at anchor the strange yacht.

With this clearly in mind, Jack Harvey resolved to follow in pursuit, although the man had now some ten minutes the start. Harvey had the advantage, however, that, whereas the man knew only the general direction he must take, to Harvey every inch of the way was as familiar as the ground around his own camp. For instance, he knew, when the way led through Captain Coombs's grove of woods, that through the centre, the most direct way, it was boggy and hard travelling, and that one could save from one to three minutes by skirting along the end nearest the town, and going through there in a smoothly travelled path.

Again, and most profitable of all, there was full five minutes to be gained by swimming the narrow opening of Gull Cove, instead of following the line of the sh.o.r.e in the way it spread out in the shape of a huge pear. At the point which the stem of the pear would represent, the pa.s.sage from the bay into the cove, it was only a matter of two rods wide.

Jack Harvey did not even stop to remove his trousers, blue blouse, and tennis shoes, but plunged in and swam across.

What he had gained by this was soon apparent, for, as he ascended the top of a low bank on the farther sh.o.r.e, he saw running along the beach, not many rods distant, the man whom he was pursuing.

Now the chase had become simplified and was easy for the rest of the way.

There could be no doubt of the man's destination. Jack Harvey, covering himself with rock and tree, made no effort to come up with him, but took his time in following, knowing where he should ultimately find him.

Presently Harvey left the sh.o.r.e, ascended the bank to a roadway which led down the island, followed it for a few rods, cut across a narrow strip of field, seated himself deliberately upon a gnarled tree-trunk, and looked out upon a tiny inlet that was just discernible through the bushes.

There, of a certainty, lay a pretty sloop at anchor, and presently there came to Harvey's ears the creaking of the halyards and of the ropes in the blocks as the mainsail fluttered up.

"He's in a tearing rush to get away, sure enough," muttered Harvey. "Now he is getting up the anchor, and slatting it up in lively style, too. But he is a stronger man than I am, there's no mistake about that," and Harvey felt of two lumps on his head that bore witness to the man's violence.

"If I only had Joe Hinman and Allan Harding here now he wouldn't sail away so easily. But that's neither here nor there. I'll know that elegant hull, however, and I'll know that slick-setting suit of sails anywhere in all this bay, and I'll get even with him yet. The _Surprise_ couldn't catch that boat in a race in a hundred years, but I'll catch him napping somewhere between here and Portland, or I have sailed this bay for nothing."

The yacht, its sails filling to the light morning airs, sailed slowly out from its place of hiding and faded away into the darkness.

Jack Harvey, waiting a moment longer to rest, started off on an easy jog-trot back to camp. "For," said he to himself, "the _Surprise_ must up anchor and after that fellow before daylight. We'll catch him first, and then find out what he has been up to. Perhaps he is another-

"Why, by Jove!" exclaimed Harvey, suddenly, "what a fool I am! How could I ever have forgotten for a moment where I saw that face once before? The man in the rowboat! Whoop! And that yacht is the _Eagle_, as sure as my name is Harvey. And that man is Chambers. And to think I came across the bay with him, alone at night!"

The cold drops of perspiration stood out on Harvey's forehead at the very thought of it.

Over hills and through woods ran Harvey, his arms pressed close to his sides and his head down. He had gone about a mile in this way when, upon emerging from a dense clump of bushes and ascending at the same time a little hill, he paused to survey the prospect ahead.

The sight that met his eyes astounded him. Up against the black morning sky there streamed a broad flaring of red, irregular and uncertain. Now it streamed up in a widely diffused glare. Again it darted up in a series of sharp streaks of red.

"Heavens!" cried Harvey. "It's the hotel and it's all on fire! Now I know it's Chambers, for certain. Now I know why he struck me down. Now I know what we'll hunt him for and what we'll catch him for."

Harvey, redoubling his speed, raced for his camp.

While this strange chase of Harvey after the man had been going on, even more exciting things had been happening at the hotel.

Shortly before the time the man had run into Harvey in the pasture and knocked him down, the boys had finished an absorbing game of billiards, had put cues and b.a.l.l.s carefully away, extinguished the lights, and left the hotel.

They were in high spirits at their harmless adventure, as they walked a short distance together, and then separated.

"I think I'll go along with you," said Henry Burns to Tom and Bob, "if you'll give me that spare blanket to put down on the floor." And the boys locked arms with him in answer, as they said good night to the Warrens.

They were soon inside the tent, and, too weary to undress, threw themselves down with their clothes on to sleep.

But scarcely had they closed their eyes when the sound of persons running hard roused them, and they recognized the voices of the Warren boys, calling to them in excited tones.

The next moment the tent was burst open, and George and Joe Warren thrust their heads inside.

"Get up! Get up, boys, quick!" they cried, and Arthur, appearing the next instant, added his voice to the others. "Hurry!" they screamed. "The hotel's afire and the flames are pouring out of the bas.e.m.e.nt windows.

We've got to give the alarm, and there's no time to be lost."

Tom and Bob and Henry Burns groaned in anguish; but the three sprang up and darted out of the door.

"Could we have done it? Oh, how could it have happened?" moaned Bob, as his teeth fairly chattered with excitement.

"I don't see how," answered Arthur Warren. "I put the lights out myself, and we didn't light a match in all the time we were there."

"Never mind," said Henry Burns. "We've got to give the alarm. We've got to see that everybody gets out, and let the rest take care of itself."

And they started on the run for the hotel. The fire was already plain to be seen, for the flames were gaining the most rapid headway, and a dense cloud of smoke mixed with flame poured out of the bas.e.m.e.nt windows.

They rushed madly up the hotel steps, found the doors locked, smashed in one of the big front windows opening into the parlour, and one and all crawled inside, screaming "Fire!" at the top of their lungs.

Almost the first person they encountered was Colonel Witham, rushing down the front stairs to the office, his red face looking apoplectic with excitement.

"What's this?" he yelled, as he came down-stairs two steps at a time.

"Some more of your practical joking, I'll be bound." But then, as he breathed a choking cloud of smoke that by this time had begun to pour in from the direction of the parlour, he changed his tone.

"Good for you, boys!" he cried. "I guess you've saved us this time.

Scatter through the halls now, quick. You can do it quicker than I can.

We mustn't let any one burn to death."

The colonel was, indeed, out of breath and nearly helpless, and could be of little a.s.sistance.

The boys needed no urging. They ran from one end of the long halls to the other, up-stairs and down, pounding on every door and startling the inmates of the rooms from sleep.

The guests, rushing out on each floor into darkened halls, and smelling the all-pervading smoke, were ready to jump from windows in panic; but the boys ran quickly among them, explained just where the fire was, just what the particular danger was, and guided them all to escape.