The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket: or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir
“Sure, I don’t like to go back stumped likethis,” growled Michael.
“No more do I,” rejoined Tom. “Say, we’vegot daylight enough; I’m going to retrace ourwhole course and keep in closer to shore.”
Joe, who for some time had been on deck, nodded his approval. Cutting a wide sweep,Tom headed back, going now within a quarterof a mile of the shore.
“It begins to look,” hinted Joe, “as thoughwhoever is leading the young Dunstan heirastray hasn’t taken him off the island of Nantucketat all.”
“There are plenty of hiding places on Nantucket, aren’t there?” inquired Tom, turning tothe big coachman.
“Plenty,” nodded Michael, “if the rapscallionsknew their way about the old island. But,by the same token, the rascals would be in plentyof danger of being found by the constables.”
“Of course Mr. Dunstan is having the localofficers search,” pondered Tom aloud. “Hesaid he would. He can telegraph the mainlandfrom the island, too, can’t he, Michael?”
“Sure,” nodded the coachman.
“Then Mr. Dunstan must have waked upsome pretty big searching parties by this time, both on the island and on the mainland,” Halsteadconcluded. “But see here, Michael, whywouldn’t it be a good plan to put you ashore?You can telephone Mr. Dunstan and see ifthere’s any news.”
“And if there ain’t any,” suggested the Irishman,“I might as well be going home acrossthe island on foot, and keeping me eyesopen. I can ask questions as I go along, andmaybe be the first of all to find out any ralenews.”
“That’ll be the best plan of any,” approvedHalstead. “It begins to look more sure, everyminute, that we’re not going to need your finelot of muscle.”
At the lower end of the east coast of the islandTom remembered having seen a pier that wouldserve them for landing the Irishman. Theymade for that pier accordingly and Michaelleaped ashore.
“I’ll telephone and then come back withinsight,” the coachman called back to them, ashe started. “If ’tis good news I’m hearing, I’llthrow up me hat two or three times. If ’tis nonews, I’ll wave a hand.”
The “Meteor” then fell off, but kept to herbearings while ten minutes passed. ThenMichael appeared in sight from the shore. Hewaved one hand and signed to the boys to keepon their course.
“Too bad!” sighed Tom. “But it makes itmore certain than ever now, doesn’t it, Joe, thatsome real disaster has happened to young TedDunstan? It’s past the lad’s dinner time now.No healthy boy goes without either luncheon ordinner, unless there’s a big reason for it.”
“Unless Ted has merely gone to some friend’shome and has forgotten to notify his parents,”suggested Dawson.
“But Ted doesn’t strike me as the boy who’slikely to do that. He’s a fine little fellow, andI don’t believe he’d be guilty of being so inconsiderateas to leave home for hours withouttelling some one.”
They had the “Meteor” under full headwaynow. Tom, with one hand on the wheel, kept akeen lookout. They had run along some mileswhen Halstead gave a sudden gasp, made adive for the rack beside the wheel that held thebinoculars and called sharply:
“Take the wheel, Joe!”
With that Tom Halstead bounded down intothe engine room. Over at one of the openportholes he raised the marine glasses to hiseyes.
“What’s the matter?” called down Joe, filledwith the liveliest curiosity.
“Matter enough!” came his chum’s excitedrejoinder. “Don’t look when I tell you. Keepyour eyes on your course ahead. But you sawthat little pier over at port?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe you noticed a man sitting there?”
“I did,” Joe admitted.
“When I first saw him,” Tom went on, showinghis animated face at the hatchway, “I didn’tthink much about him. But the second time Ilooked I thought I saw something that broughtback recollections. That was why I came downhere for a near-sighted peep through the glasses.The fellow couldn’t see me down here and soought not to suspect that we have noticed himparticularly.”
“But who is he?” cried Joe eagerly.
“Oh, he’s the right man, all right,” Tom retortedperhaps vaguely. “He’s got on eitherthe same pair or another pair just like ’em.”
“Pair? Of what?” demanded Joe.
“Trousers, of course, you dull old simpleton!”whipped out Halstead. “Joe, it’s thesame old pattern of brown, striped – ”
“The Span – ”
“The pirate, I call him,” growled Halstead, stepping up on deck and replacing the binocularsin their rack without another look ashore. Theywere rapidly leaving astern the solitary oneseated against the pier rail.
“Do you think – ” began Joe, but Tom gavehim no chance to finish.
“I don’t think anything,” broke in Halstead, alive with energy. “I am going to know – that’swhat.”
Tom took the wheel himself, swinging thecraft around a point of land just ahead.
“Look back, Joe. This shuts us out from thesight of that striped pirate, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” nodded Dawson.
Tom shut off the speed, adding:
“Stand ready, Joe, to use speed or wheel, andkeep her about so-so. I’m going to lower thedingey into the water and row ashore. I’ll riga line to her stern, so you can haul her back.Don’t bother to get the small boat up at thedavits. Just make her fast astern. Andthen – ”
“Wait here for you,” guessed Joe.
“No, as soon as you get the dingey made fast, put on headway and run the boat back to Mr.Dunstan’s pier. Report to him, telling him justwhat I’m doing and assure him I won’t be afraidto telephone if I learn anything worth while.I’ll get over to his place as soon as I can, laterin the evening.”
Tom got the small boat into the water, leftone end of a small rope in Joe’s hands androwed somewhat more than a hundred feet tothe beach. From there he waved his hand. Joebegan to haul in on the line. Within thirty feetof the beach the woods began; Halstead wasquickly lost to his chum’s sight.
Full darkness came on while Tom was stillin the woods heading cautiously south. As hehastened along, making little or no noise, Halsteadwondered what he would do with the manin case he discovered him to be really one ofthe pair who had sat in the seat ahead on thetrain.
“I suppose I’d better wait and make up mymind after I’m sure it is the same fellow,” Tomconcluded.
The young skipper did not, at any time on thisswift walk, move far from the shore line. Atlast he came to the edge of the woods, a veryshort distance from the pier he was seeking.There was still a man there, seated on the railof the pier. There were some bushes, too, to aidin shielding the boy’s forward progress if heused care. Tom went down, almost flat, thencrept forward, moving swiftly, silently, betweenbushes.
At last he was near enough to be sure of hisman, trousers and all. It was the same manHalstead had seen on the train. The “pirate”was at this moment engaged in rolling a cigarette.
CHAPTER V – A JOKE ON THE ENEMY
The slight, swarthy stranger rolled hiscigarette up nicely, moistening the edgeof the paper, stuck the thing between hislips, lighted the tobacco and began to smoke inevident enjoyment.
“That’s my party, all right,” quivered Tom.“And now I’ve found him what on earth am Igoing to do with him?”
That was a new poser. Halstead had been sointent on identifying his suspect that, now herecognized him, he must figure out what wasto be done.
“If the fellow is all right he ought to haveno objections to going along with me and answeringquestions. If he won’t do that” – hereTom’s eyes began to flash – “I believe I’ll makehim. This is a business that calls for sternmeasures. This fellow belongs to the crowdthat must know all about Ted Dunstan’s disappearance.”
Yet, to look at him, one would hardly suspectthe swarthy man leaning against the pier railof being a conspirator. As he smoked he appearedto be wholly at peace with himself andwith the world. He did not seem to have a careon earth.
As he still crouched behind a bush, watchingthe nearby fellow in the dark, an impulse ofmischief came to Tom Halstead. He rememberedthat night prowling about the “Meteor”over at Wood’s Hole, and he remembered howBouncer had frightened this same man.
“Gr-r-r-r!” sounded Tom suddenly from behindthe bush. “Gr-r-r-r! Woof! Woof!”
It was a splendid imitation of the growl andbark of a bulldog. At the same instant Tommade a semi-spring through the bush.
The “pirate” uttered a wordless howl offright. He lurched, attempted to recover himselfand leap at the same instant, and —
Splash! There was another howl of terroras the man slipped over backward, then, head-first, struck the water at the side of the pier.
“Help! I drown!” came in a muffled voice, and a new note of terror sounded on the night.
Now drowning anyone was as far from TomHalstead’s mind as could be. With an upwardbound he sprinted out onto the pier, bendingunder the rail close to where the frightened onewas making huge rings on the water in hisstruggle to keep up.
In his efforts the fellow reached one of thepiles of the pier, hanging to it in mortal terror.
“Help, help, kind sir!” he pleaded hoarsely.“Not a stroke do I swim. Pull me out before Idrown.”
Throwing himself upon the pier, Tom bentdown with both hands.
“Here, catch hold,” he hailed. “You’re inno danger. I’ll pull you out all right.”
It was some moments before Tom could persuadehis “pirate” to let go that frantic clutchat the pile. But at length Halstead drew hisdripping suspect up onto the boards of thepier.
“Where is that terrible, that miser-r-rabledog!” panted the swarthy one, glaring abouthim.
“That’s all right,” Tom answered composedly.“There isn’t any dog.”
“But – but I heard him,” protested the other, still nervous, as he stared suspiciously aroundhim. “The wr-r-retched animal sprang for me.His teeth almost grazed my leg.”
Such was the power of imagination – a finetribute to Tom’s skill as a mimic.
“Aren’t you thinking of the other night, overat Wood’s Hole, when you tried to get aboardthe ‘Meteor’ to wreck the engine?”
Halstead shot this question out with disconcertingsuddenness. The young skipper lookedstraight, keenly, into the other’s eyes, standingso that he could prevent the stranger’s suddenbolt from the pier.
“I? What do you talk about?” demanded theforeigner, pretending astonishment.
“Oh, I know all about you,” nodded Tom.“You’re the party.”
“Be careful, boy! You insult me!” cried theother angrily.
“That’s all right, then,” Tom went on coolly.“Now maybe I’m going to insult you a littlemore. The trouble is, I need information, andyou’re the best one to give it to me. Where’sTed Dunstan?”
“I – I – you – ” stammered the foreigner.“What do I know about Ted Dunstan? No, no,no! You are wrong. I have not seen the boy – donot know him.”
“Yet you appear to know that he is a boy,”insisted Tom sternly. “Come, now, if you won’ttalk with me you’d better walk along with me, and we’ll find some one you’ll be more willingto answer.”
“How? I walk with you? Boy, do not be afool,” retorted the swarthy one angrily. “Ishall not walk with you. I do not like yourcompany.”
“I’m not sure that I like yours, either,” retortedthe boy. “But there are times when Icannot afford to be particular. Come, whyshould you object to walking along with me?All I propose is that we find the nearest constableand that you answer his questions. Theconstable will decide whether to hold you ornot.”
“Step aside,” commanded the swarthy manimperiously. Full of outraged dignity he attemptedto brush past the young skipper. ButTom Halstead, both firm and cool, now that hismind was made up, took a grip on the fellow’sleft arm.
“Take your hand off! Let me go!” screamedthe fellow, his eyes ablaze with passion. “Outof my way, idiot, and take yourself off!”
As the swarthy one struggled to free himselfTom only tightened his grip, much as the bullpup would have done.
“Don’t be disagreeable,” urged Tom.“Come, my request is a very proper one. I’monly asking you to go before one of the officersof the law. No honest man can really objectto that.”
“You – ” screamed the foreigner.
He shot his right hand suddenly into a jacketpocket. But Tom, watching every movementalertly, let go of the fellow’s left arm, makinga bound and seizing his right arm with bothstrong hands. There was a fierce struggle, butHalstead’s muscles had been toughened byexercise and by many days of hard work at a steeringwheel in rough weather. This slight manfrom another country was no match for theAmerican boy.
Down they went to the flooring of the pierwith a crash, but young Halstead was uppermost.In another twinkling he was bending theswarthy one’s right arm until that fellow wasready to sue for a truce.
Tom now held him helpless, kneeling on him.
“What were you trying to fish out of thatjacket pocket?” demanded the young motor boatcaptain, thrusting his own hand in. He drewout something and held it up briefly – a claspknife.
“A coward’s tool!” uttered Tom, his voiceringing scornfully. Then he threw the claspknife far out so that it splashed in the water.“Why don’t you cultivate a man’s muscle andfight like a man, instead of toting around thingslike that? Come, get up on your feet.”
Bounding up, Halstead yanked the other upright.In a twinkling the swarthy man brokefrom him, sprinting off the pier.
“You haven’t learned to run right, either,”grinned Halstead, dashing after the “pirate”and gripping a hand in his collar.
That brought them facing each other again.How the swarthy one glared at his resoluteyoung captor! They were about of a height, these two, and might have weighed about thesame. But the man possessed nowhere near thestrength of this sea-toughened boy.
“Now see here,” spoke Tom more pleasantly,“I’m doing what I think is right or I wouldn’tventure to be so rough. Walk along with mesensibly, until we can find out where a constablelives. I’ve got the best of you and you realizeI can do it again. But I don’t want to be roughwith you. It goes against the grain.”
The swarthy one’s only answer was to glareat the young skipper with a look full of hate.
Tom suddenly changed his tone.
“I know what you’re thinking of, myman,” he cried tauntingly. “You are justthinking to yourself what a fine time you’dhave with me if you had me down in Honduras – whereyour friends do things in a differentway!”
The taunt told, for the stranger’s eyesgleamed with malice.
“Ah, in good Honduras!” he hissed. “Yes,if I had you there, and – ”
He stopped as suddenly as he had begun.
“That’s just what I wanted to know,” mockedHalstead. “Honduras is your country, and nowI know to a dot why you’re interested in havingTed Dunstan vanish and stay vanished for awhile. Come along, now. We’ll keep right onuntil we find that constable!”
Tom seized the stranger’s right arm in earnestnow. The other held back, as though hewould resist, but suddenly changed his mind.
“You are somewhat the stronger – withhands,” he said in an ugly tone. “So I shall gowith you. But perhaps you will much regretwhat you are doing to-night.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Tom jeered cheerily. “Atall events I’m doing the best I know how. AndI’m glad you’re not going to make any fuss. Ihate to be cranky with anyone.”
The place to which the pier belonged looked, from what Tom had been able to see of it, likea run-down coast farm. Away up on a hill tothe left were a dilapidated old farm house andother buildings. Halstead feared, though, thatthe stranger might have friends up at that houseand so decided to keep on through the woods atthe right.
Before long they struck a fairly well definedroad through the forest, a road that lookedas though it might lead to somewhere in particular.
“We’ll keep right on along this road, if youdon’t mind,” said the boy. He kept now only afair hold of the other’s wrist. As the swarthyone offered no opposition, they made passablygood speed over the road. But Tom, though helooked unconcerned, was wholly on the alert forany sudden move on the part of his captive.
“If I find I’m wholly in the wrong,” saidTom pleasantly, after they had gone at least aquarter of a mile in this fashion, “there isn’tanyone in the whole United States who’d bemore glad to make a complete apology.”
“But that will not save you from trouble,”breathed the swarthy one angrily. “The lawsof your country do not allow such high-handeddeeds as you have been guilty of.”
“Down in Honduras the laws are a bit different, aren’t they?” asked Halstead very pleasantly.
“Down in Honduras, they – ”
The swarthy one checked himself suddenly.
“That is the second time you have asked meabout Honduras,” he went on presently. “Whydo you say so much about Honduras?”
“I’ve trapped you into admitting that it’syour country,” laughed Halstead. “And thattells me, too, why you are so interested in havingTed Dunstan kept out of sight for the nextfew days.”
“What’s all this talk about Honduras?” demandeda gruff voice. The challenge madeboth jump. A stocky figure stepped alertly outfrom behind a tree. It was the solidly built, florid-faced man – the other of the pair Tomhad first seen in the seat ahead.
“Oh, you, you, you!” cried the swarthy onedelightedly, as he wrenched his captive wristfree from Halstead’s weakening clutch. “Youhave appeared in time, my friend!”
“So?” roared the florid-faced one, taking abusiness-like grip of Tom Halstead’s collar.“What was this young cub doing?”
“Doing?” cried the swarthy one, dancing inhis wrath, his eyes gleaming like coals. “Hehad the impudence, this boy, to say he wouldtake me to a constable. He insists that I knowall about one Ted Dunstan.”
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