CHAPTER I

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THE RUSHTON BOYS AT TREASURE COVE

OR

THE MISSING CHEST OF GOLD

BY

SPENCER DAVENPORT

Author of "The Rushton Boys at Rally Hall,"

"The Rushton Boys in the Saddle," etc.

WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.

RACINE, WISCONSIN

BOOKS FOR BOYS

BY

SPENCER DAVENPORT

THE RUSHTON BOYS SERIES

THE RUSHTON BOYS AT RALLY HALL

_Or, Great Days in School and Out_

THE RUSHTON BOYS IN THE SADDLE

_Or, The Ghost of the Plains_

THE RUSHTON BOYS AT TREASURE COVE

_Or, The Missing Chest of Gold_

COPYRIGHT, 1916

GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY

Printed by

WESTERN PRINTING & LITHOGRAPHING CO.

Racine, Wisconsin

Printed in U. S. A.

THE RUSHTON BOYS AT TREASURE COVE

CHAPTER I

THE COMING STORM

"Say, boys, it looks like a storm and a heavy one, too."

The jest and laughter ceased at once, and three pairs of eyes looked in

the direction pointed out by the speaker.

"See that big bank of cloud climbing up the sky?" continued Fred

Rushton. "There's more than a capful of wind in that, if I know anything

about weather."

"You're right, Fred," said Lester Lee, who was handling the tiller. "And

we're a long way off from home! It's up to us to turn about and make a

run for it."

"Oh, I don't think it will amount to anything," said Teddy Rushton,

Fred's younger brother, who was never averse to taking a chance. "We're

having such a grand time that I hate to make a break for land unless we

have to. Besides, I've never been out in a squall, and I'd like to have

the experience."

"You'd have more experience than you cared for with this blow that is

coming," returned the helmsman, and there was a growing anxiety in his

tone. "I'm more familiar with this coast than you are, and I'd rather

look at the storm from the shore than from the deck of this catboat. So,

here's for a quick scoot for home," he concluded, as he brought the boat

around and laid the course for the shore.

It was a staunch little sailboat of twenty-two feet in length, and the

way she minded her helm, as well as the ease with which she rode the

waves, spoke eloquently of her qualities.

On this afternoon, off the coast of Maine, she held a jolly party of

four boys. Lester Lee, who owned the boat and managed the tiller, was

the host, and his guests were Bill Garwood and Fred and Teddy Rushton,

all of them fellow schoolmates of Lester's at Rally Hall. It was

vacation time, and the boys were gloating over the fact that they were

going to have several weeks more than usual before school opened in the

fall. The news had come in a letter that Fred had received that morning

from Melvin Granger, one of his last year's chums.

"Good for old Mel!" exulted Teddy. "He knew how good we'd feel about it,

and he couldn't get the news to us quickly enough."

"That stroke of lightning knew its business when it struck the right

wing of the building," laughed Fred. "Mel says that several of the rooms

were burned out, and it will be fully a month after the usual time

before everything can be got in running order."

"I'll bet old Hardtack is raving, because he can't get us under his

thumb as soon as he expected," grinned Bill, referring in this

irreverent fashion to Dr. Hardach Rally, head of Rally Hall.

"It's lucky the lightning didn't hit the gymnasium, anyway," commented

Lester. "We'll have some tough teams to tackle this coming year and

we'll need all the practice we can get. Ease her off a little, Fred," he

added, to the older Rushton boy, who was handling the sheet.

Fred did so, just in time to avoid the full force of a big wave that was

coming on the port side. But enough of it came aboard to drench

thoroughly Teddy and Bill, who were lounging at the foot of the mast.

"Wow!" yelled Teddy, as he scrambled to his feet. "That was a corker. I

got a gallon down my back that time."

"Gallon?" echoed Bill. "It seemed to me more like a hogshead. I'm as wet

as a drowned rat."

"Don't you care, fellows," called out Lester. "We won't any of us have a

dry stitch on by the time we get to land."

"You don't suppose there's any danger, do you?" asked Bill, who at his

father's ranch would have been perfectly at home on the back of a

bucking broncho, but here on the sea felt out of his element.

"Oh, no," replied Lester, carelessly. "That is," he hastened to add,

"there's always more or less danger when one's out in an open boat in a

storm. But this _Ariel_ of mine is a jim dandy, and I don't think

we'll have any trouble. Even if she should go over, we could hang on to

the bottom, and there are so many boats in these waters that we'd soon

be picked up."

Despite his careless air and confident words, it was evident from the

way he scanned the sky and the tumbling waste of waters that he was

secretly uneasy.

The sky had by this time become completely overcast, and although it was

only mid afternoon, it was as dark as though twilight were coming on.

The wind came in stronger gusts, and the waves broke ever more

threateningly against the side of the boat. The land was blotted out,

and only the tossing waters met the view in every direction.

"I ought to have turned around sooner," Lester muttered to himself, "but

I was so interested in the letter that Fred got from Mel I didn't notice

those storm clouds coming up."

The conversation had ceased. Lester had all he could do to handle the

tiller and shape his course, and Fred had to be on the alert in his

management of the sheet, which strained and tugged under the force of

the wind. It was a time for action rather than speech, and Bill and

Teddy, who just then could do nothing but serve as ballast, looked on in

silence as the _Ariel_ tore through the waves.

Suddenly an object that appeared on the starboard side excited Teddy so

much that a cry broke from his lips.

"Look at that big fish over there!" he exclaimed. "It's a monster. What

is it, a porpoise?"

"Porpoise nothing," said Lester briefly, letting his eye wander a moment

from the tiller. "That's a shark."

"A shark!" was the cry that broke at the same time from Teddy and Bill,

neither of whom had even seen that "pirate of the sea," and they felt a

shivery thrill from the sudden discovery.

"Yes," answered Lester, "and from the size of the fin, he must be a

whopper. We seldom see them so large in these waters."

"Is he a man-eater, do you think?" asked Bill in an awed whisper.

"That depends," answered Lester. "If he's a blue shark or a hammerhead,

he probably is. They pulled one out about fifty miles from here last

year, and when they cut him up, they found a man's boot in his stomach.

They're good things to keep away from."

"I should say they were," agreed Bill. "I'd rather take my chance with a

rattlesnake."

Again they lapsed into silence, but their eyes never left that ominous

fin that showed just above the water, cutting it like a knife.

There was a quick exclamation from Lester, and looking at him, they saw

that he was peering at an object perhaps half a mile away. It was large

and vague in the gathering darkness, but Bill's keen eyes, accustomed to

gaze over wide spaces in the West, made it out at once.

"It's a motor boat!" he exclaimed. "And by jinks! it seems to be in

trouble. See how it tosses about. It looks as if it would upset any

minute."

"Those motor boats are always unsafe," remarked Lester, with the scorn

that the master of a sailboat usually feels for any craft driven by

machinery. "They're getting out of order all the time, and a fellow

takes his life in his hands every time he goes out in one. For my part

give me a sailboat."

"Can you see how many people are on board of her?" asked Fred anxiously.

"I see only one," replied Bill, "and he seems to be tinkering with the

engine. Wow! but she shipped a lot of water just then."

"What are we going to do?" asked Teddy. "He may get upset, and if he

doesn't know how to swim, he'll drown. And even if he were a good

swimmer, he couldn't make the shore in a storm like this."

"Here's the answer," said Lester briefly, as he gave the tiller a twist

and gave Fred directions to pull in the sheet. In a moment the boat had

changed its course and was bearing down swiftly toward the disabled

craft.

"I'm mighty anxious to get to shore," Lester remarked, "but we've got to

see what we can do for this fellow first."

The storm was now full upon them, and the _Ariel_ staggered as the

waves beat against her sides. She ploughed along gallantly, however,

under the skilful guidance of Lester, riding most of the waves, although

now and then her nose would dive through a big one and enough water

would come on board to keep Bill and Teddy busy bailing her out. All

were thoroughly drenched, but no one thought of his discomfort, so

intent were they all on reaching the motor boat, which by this time was

absolutely out of control and tossing up and down like a chip in the

surging tumult of waters.

The one occupant had given up as hopeless the attempt to fix the

machinery. He had caught sight of the _Ariel_ and was waving his

hands wildly.

"He oughtn't to be standing up," muttered Lester. "He ought to crouch

down and hold tight."

They were now not more than a hundred feet away, when suddenly a groan

went up from the boys.

A huge wave, cresting over the side, had caught the man on the motor

boat full in the chest and hurled him into the sea!

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