CONCLUSION
The mentally queer inventor had rigged up a bench just under shelves
on which rested tools and boat supplies.
Just at the moment the inventor had his back turned to the water
as he stood working at his bench. Dick was able to look at him
while not in immediate danger of being seen himself.
How quietly the Grammar School boy trod water! He hardly dared
breathe, for fear of giving an alarm.
Yet, even in all his astonishment, Prescott did not forget to
let one hand close over the handle of the black bag whose recovery
had brought him here.
"I can't do anything with Garwood alone," reflected Dick swiftly.
"I must get out, if I can, without making a noise, and then give
the hurry alarm. That fellow is mixing something, and, if he
isn't stopped soon, he's quite likely to blow up the boathouse,
himself included."
Fortunately there was sufficient depth of water at this outer
end of the boathouse. Prescott let himself sink so quietly that
there was barely a ripple above his head. Next, with a few cautious
strokes, he carried himself past the hanging side wall and into
the open upstream.
"Gracious, but no wonder Garwood has been able to keep away from
pursuers," thought the boy excitedly, as he swam steadily up toward
the other pier. "He has a place where not even a Sherlock Holmes
would ever think of looking for him. Why, he could work, sleep
and eat there and never give a sign of his presence!"
"Did you get it?" called the owner of the handbag eagerly.
"Yes, ma'am," Dick replied.
"The bag wasn't open, was it?"
"No, ma'am."
"Let me have it quickly, please. Oh, I'm so thankful! Here is
my purse with all the money safe and sound. Wait, Master Prescott,
I must reward you suitably."
"No; I thank you," Dick replied, his color rising. "Your thanks
are enough. I've been taught that courtesy can't be repaid with
cash. You are very, very welcome to any service that I was able
to do you."
As Dick hurried into the Central Grammar "dressing room" he found
all five of his chums waiting to rub him down and help him dress.
"Here, give me that towel, and get out on other business in a
hurry!" begged Dick. "Dave! Tom! Amos Garwood is in the boathouse
below here, working at a bench. Get some of the men and rush
down there to make a capture. Greg, run and see to it that a
launch moves down to the river end of the boathouse in case Garwood
tries to get out that way when he hears the alarm!"
Prescott's chums darted out in a hurry. Dick half dried himself
in a few frenzied dabs with the towel. Then he pulled on his clothing
faster than ever before.
He got outside on the pier just in time to see Dave and Tom leading
a dozen men stealthily toward the door of the boathouse. Out
on the water Len Spencer's launch, with half a dozen men in it,
stood as river sentinel.
While those approaching the boathouse door were still more than
a score of feet away there came a startling interruption.
Bang! sounded inside. The door of the building strained an instant,
but did not give way.
"That's our old friend, Amos bang-bang, to a dot," muttered Tom
dryly, as the advancing party of men and boys halted.
"I don't care about fooling with a dynamite factory," remarked
one of the men.
Dick, at a dead run, joined the party.
"Come along!" he cried. "Let's break down the door and find out
whether the poor fellow is hurt."
"Yes! And have that 'poor fellow' hand you a peck of nitro-glycerine
for a surprise," retorted a man.
"Come on, fellows! We can get the door down without help," Dick
called, appealing to his chums.
All five of them rallied to his support. It took but a few sturdy
shoulder blows to complete the work of the explosion and break
the lock of the door.
Dick took one quick look inside.
"Tom, run and 'phone for a physician!" Prescott called back.
"Poor Garwood is unconscious, and cut. He's bleeding. Poor chap,
with his lop-sided mind and his 'mastery of the world' imaginings!"
Reade sped away. As soon as the crowd found there was no danger
there was a rush to the scene. Darrin and three friends managed
to hold the crowd somewhat at bay, while Prescott assisted two
women in trying to bring the injured man to.
"I hope he doesn't get away this time," thought Dick. "If Garwood
remains at large much longer he'll fix up a bang-bang that will
carry him clean into the next world!"
While those having the injured man in charge waited they explored
the boathouse. Of the explosive materials not a particle was
found. Evidently it had all gone up in smoke. But, in a far
corner, the searchers discovered a package of gauze, and another
of salve, with which poor Garwood had evidently attended to the
burns resulting from former explosions. Later it was found that
both packages came from a drugstore some twenty miles away, where
the poor fellow had also bought his explosive materials from time
to time. He must have walked the long distance at night when
other people were abed, for the druggist stated that his customer
came in, on each visit, as soon as the store was opened in the
morning.
Blankets and a few groceries, found in the loft, explained the
demented man's manner of housekeeping during the last few days.
It was half an hour ere a physician finally arrived in a touring
car.
"The man doesn't appear to be badly hurt," declared the medical
man. "It won't take us five minutes to get him into town and
in the hospital, so I believe we had better start to revive him
after we get him there."
Two strong men were found who were willing to sit in the tonneau,
holding Amos Garwood's insensible body between them.
As the car started away a subdued cheer arose. The mystery and
the vanishing of Amos Garwood were at an end at last. Those who
had feared having a demented man at large in the community breathed
more easily.
From the day of the race the summer vacation for the late Grammar
School boys began in earnest. A few days later Dick and his swimming
squad met a similar organization from the South Grammar, and a
match was held on the river. As Prescott's squad again won, Central
Grammar was now undisputed Grammar School champion on the water
as well as in baseball.
Colonel Garwood tried to pay the offered reward to the members
of Dick & Co., but the parents of the boys refused to entertain
the idea.
Amos Garwood, not seriously injured in body, was soon well enough
to be taken back to the sanitarium. Here his malady was found
not to be severe. A year later he was discharged, fully cured
of his delusions, and able once more to take his place as a useful
member of society.
There does not remain a great deal more to be told.
Many of the boys who have appeared in these pages went no further
in school life, but stepped out into the working world, there
to fit themselves for the men's places in life.
The more fortunate ones, however, went to High School. All the
members of Dick & Co. were thus favored in being able to go forward
into the fields of higher education. We shall speedily meet with
these manly American boys again, for their further doings will
be described in the _High School Boys' Series_.
In the first volume of this series, "_The High School Freshmen;
Or Dick & Co.'s First Year Pranks and Sports_," the friends of
these six wide-awake boys will find them in a new field of action,
and follow them through an exciting series of trials and triumphs.
Dick & Co.'s interest in High School athletics, and the way in
which they won a permanent place in the hearts of the older students
is told so realistically in the first volume of this series as
to make all readers long to know more about them.
All the big and little boys who wish to continue their friendship
with Dick & Co. will find their further adventures related most
entertainingly in the four volumes of the High School Boys' Series
just published.