NEWS OF THE STOLEN YACHT.
Frank Merriwell showed his abilities as a hustler, for at sunrise he was
on board the steam launch _Fox_, and ready to start in pursuit of his
stolen yacht. The _Fox_ was lying at a wharf some distance above the
steamboat wharf. She was coaled for a trip, and steam was up as the sun
rose out of the bay beyond the monument in the harbor.
Diamond, Hodge and Dustan were to accompany Frank. As the launch was
small, Merriwell did not wish to overload her, so Browning and
Dunnerwust were to be left behind.
Bruce and Hans were at the wharf to see the party off. It had cost the
big Yale man a mighty effort to get out of bed and come down there at
that hour, but now he was angry to think Frank intended to leave him
behind.
“What have I done to be left?” he demanded. “I am sure that if there is
to be any fighting, I might do my part on this trip.”
“I can take you, Bruce,” said Frank, “and I will, if you are determined
to go; but I thought you might be able to help me some by staying home.”
“How?”
“I want you to do a little detective work. It is possible I may not
succeed in finding the _White Wings_. While I am away, I wish you to do
your best to learn who had a hand in stealing the yacht. If I do not
succeed in running down the rascals who have the yacht, you may be able
to put me on the right track when I return.”
“I’ll make a mighty poor detective,” grumbled Bruce.
“I don’t know about that. You can do it as well as any of the others,
and this launch is so small that I do not wish to take the whole party.”
“All right,” said the big fellow, somewhat pacified. “I’ll do what I
can, but I never was cut out for a detective.”
“Mart Woodock may be able to help you. Find him—watch him.”
“All ready, Mr. Merriwell.”
The call came from Howard Dustan, and Frank stepped aboard the _Fox_.
The lines were cast off, and, with an oar, Browning thrust the prow of
the craft away from the wharf.
“Goot-py, Vrankie,” called Hans, sadly. “I vos sorry you vasn’t goin’
mit me. If you catch up mit der vellers vat stole dot yotch, gif them
der tyfil.”
The propeller began to churn the water. Dustan was at the wheel, and the
_Fox_ soon headed down the harbor. As long as the wharf could be seen,
Hans was visible, alternately waving a bandanna handkerchief and blowing
his nose.
Out into the morning sunshine that was tinting the rippling water with
pink and gold danced the little launch. She ran smoothly and swiftly.
“Which way, Mr. Merriwell?” asked Dustan.
“I believe we had better run over to Searsport first,” said Frank.
Diamond looked surprised.
“Why should we go there?” he asked. “It strikes me that we will be going
out of our way by doing so?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Searsport is to the eastward. It is away over in that direction.”
“Yes.”
“We should go directly down the bay.”
“Why?”
“To overtake the yacht, if it was stolen by Parker Flynn.”
“But I fail to understand your reasons.”
“Why, of course Flynn will make an effort to get out of Penobscot waters
as soon as possible. He belongs in Boston, and——”
“For that very reason he will not sail that way. If he has the yacht, he
is just foxy enough to know we may think he will head for Boston, and so
he will choose another course.”
“You may be right,” admitted Diamond, “but still I have my doubts about
it. I do not believe Flynn is as shrewd as all that.”
“Well, there is another reason why he would not run down the bay.”
“What is it?”
“The wind shifted about shortly after midnight last night. I observed
that. During the first part of the night it was off shore, but it swung
round till it was almost in the south. At one o’clock the parties on the
_White Wings_ could not have sailed down the bay without beating to
windward.”
“I didn’t observe that.”
“I did, for I was taking note of just such things after discovering the
yacht was gone. Of course the thieves wished to get as far away as
possible before sunrise, and they would not beat against the wind. It is
my opinion that they ran over toward the Eastern Bay, which is full of
islands, where they might hide the yacht. It is possible they will keep
on toward Eastport. Anyway, I am going to look for them in the Eastern
Bay.”
Jack did not like to give in, but he saw the logic of Frank’s reasoning.
“All right,” he said. “You are in command. Do as you like.”
They made straight for Searsport, but the _White Wings_ was not in the
harbor there.
“Where next?” asked Dustan.
“Islesborough,” answered Merry.
“But that is on the western side of Long Island. If you are going
straight into the Eastern Bay, you must go round to the north of Long
Island.”
“I am not going directly into the Eastern Bay. If the _White Wings_ is
not at Islesborough, I shall run down on this side of Long Island to
Pulpit Harbor. The rascals might take her in there, as it would be a
good hiding place. If she isn’t there, I shall strike round to the south
of the island and over into the Eastern Bay that way. If they have set
their course southeast, we may cut them off.”
So for Islesborough they headed and ran into the harbor there, where
they made inquiries of some fishermen, but could learn nothing. The
missing yacht had not been seen.
From Islesborough to Pulpit Harbor was not a very long run. They crept
slowly in at the narrow entrance of the harbor, where it looked as if a
vessel would be in danger of rubbing her sides against the rocky shores,
but where, at the lowest water, no vessel could touch her keel.
Again they were disappointed. The yacht was not there, and no one at the
harbor had seen or heard from her.
They did not waste time, but ran out past the “pulpit” again and were
away like hounds seeking a scent.
“We are so near Camden we may as well run down there,” said Diamond.
“The _White Wings_ is known there, and, if anybody has seen her, we’ll
be likely to hear of it.”
“That’s right,” agreed Frank. “It may be well enough to run in to
Camden. We’ll go there, Dustan.”
So the launch was headed toward the distant mountains, under the shadow
of which lies the village that hopes some day to rival Bar Harbor.
The mountains were attractive in the sunshine, but Battie looked
insignificant in comparison to Megunticook. The Summit House could be
seen on the crest of Battie, the sunshine glimmering on its windows and
showing the flag that waved in the breeze from the pole on the top of
the observation tower.
Round Sherman’s Point rushed the little launch, past the steamboat wharf
she ran, and headed straight up into the harbor. She stopped at Adams’
Wharf, and Frank went ashore to make inquiries. Steam was kept up, and
the _Fox_ was ready to get away as soon as he returned.
He was gone more than thirty minutes, and he returned, followed by
several boys, two of whom were carrying bundles for him.
“What news?” anxiously asked Diamond.
“None,” was the answer. “The yacht has not been seen. I have bought some
provisions. Here, boys, is a quarter for each of you.”
One of the boys took the money, but the other drew back, saying:
“If you please, Mr. Merriwell, I’d like something of more value to me
than that.”
“What?” exclaimed Merry, astonished. “Aren’t you satisfied with a
quarter? Why, I thought it good pay for what you have done.”
“It’s more than the job was worth. I don’t want money, but I’d like to
have something as a keepsake—something to remember you by. I’ve read all
about you, but I never expected to see you. Won’t you please give me one
of those buttons off your coat?”
Frank was touched.
“My boy,” he cried, “you could have the coat if I had another here to
put on! A button? Of course! And the quarter, too! Take it—keep it!”
He cut a button off his coat, and gave it to the boy, together with the
quarter. The bundles were taken aboard, and soon the _Fox_ was speeding
out of the harbor, bound eastward.
“I am well satisfied now,” said Frank, “that the _White Wings_ did not
come down the bay.”
It was midday, and they ate on board the launch. As they were passing
Lime Island they saw a schooner that was running in from the Eastern
Bay. Frank directed Dustan to run close to the schooner, and he hailed
the vessel, asking if the captain had seen anything of a sloop yacht
named _White Wings_.
“Ay, ay,” was the answer. “Sighted such a schooner off the southern end
of Deer Isle about nine o’clock. Made out her name after she passed.”
“Thunder!” cried Hodge, excitedly. “We’ve struck the trail at last!”
Diamond was excited.
“Which way was she headed, captain?” shouted Frank.
“Sou’ by sou’wes’, sir,” was the answer. “I reckon she was makin’ for
Green’s Landing or the Reach.”
“Thank you, captain.”
“Ye’re welcome, sir.”
On sped the launch, but now she bore some passengers who were elated by
the piece of news they had learned. At last they were on the right
course.
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