AN ACT OF PIRACY
Moving slowly, with the graceful ease of a monster swan, the motor boat,
a craft under sixty feet in length, moved into the pier to shoreward of
the tug.
"Motor boat 'Restless'?" hailed Captain Foster.
"Yes, sir," came quietly from the youthful-looking sailor at the wheel.
Just then he quitted his post.
"Captain Halstead?"
"Yes, sir; here, at your orders."
Skipper Tom Halstead made the best military salute that he knew how,
while the handy boy of all things aboard the boat, Hank Butts, made the
bow-hawser fast and hurried along the pier to secure the stern hawser.
"A party of five United States officers coming aboard, Captain
Halstead," continued Captain Foster.
"All right, sir; we'll be mighty glad to have you aboard," Skipper Tom
answered quietly, but with a manliness and heartiness that made all of
the officers instantly take a liking to him.
Captain Foster introduced himself, and then his brother officers. Many
of our readers will require no new introduction to Captain Tom Halstead,
Engineer Joe Dawson and the irrepressible trouble-seeker, Hank Butts.
These fortunate readers have already met the young men in the volumes of
the "MOTOR BOAT CLUB SERIES," and know all about them and how Tom and
Joe had secured their joint ownership in that splendid sea-going craft,
the "Restless."
"Halstead, can you take five officers and twenty enlisted men aboard for
the night?"
"Yes, sir," smiled the young skipper, revealing his white, even teeth.
"They won't weigh over two tons and a half, altogether, sir."
"Can you take that many with comfort?" laughed Captain Foster.
"Now, I won't guarantee the comfort, sir, but there'll be room enough
aboard so that no one needs to be jostled over the rail. Eighteen men
can sit in the cabin at the same time. That leaves only seven, besides
our own crew who will need to be on deck."
"Oh, you're going to have plenty of room here," decided Captain Foster,
after a brief look over the trim little motor craft.
"I'm glad of that," sighed Dave Darrin, "for, as an interloper, I'd have
to go ashore the first one if the quarters were crowded."
"Mr. Overton, direct Sergeant Havens and his men to come aboard. Mr.
Prescott, you'll look out for your squad, of course."
"Certainly, sir."
"Mr. Overton, as soon as you have your men aboard, give the skipper his
word to start. You will cruise without lights, unless need for them
arises. While cruising, do not go above nine miles an hour. Reserve
greater speed for pursuit. First, you will cruise eight miles up the
river, then eight miles below this point, and so on through the night
until a half-hour before daylight. As much as you can, avoid showing
your craft to any prowlers by the shores. Keep things dark aboard the
boat, and voices low."
By this time the enlisted men had come aboard, many of them going below
to the cabin.
"You may start, now," continued Captain Poster, jumping to the pier.
"Catch anything you can that has arms aboard for the other frontier.
Good-bye and good luck!"
Hardly had the motor boat gotten under way when the tug, with Corporal
Shimple and four men aboard, also left her berth. The tug went only a
short distance out into the stream, then cast anchor for the night. The
tug was to be held in reserve, and at the same time her mate and crew
were thus prevented from communicating any news about the motor boat to
possible Mexican lurkers on shore.
The five young officers of the two services had seated themselves on top
of the deck-house at the rear of the bridge-deck. Hank Butts sat midway
down on the deck-house, yawning as though he would like to turn in.
After he had got his engine working smoothly Engineer Joe Dawson came up
from the engine room forward, taking his stand beside Skipper Tom
Halstead.
For five minutes Joe was silent, as the boat kept on up the Rio Grande.
He half-turned, once in a while, to cast a covertly-admiring glance at
the young officers seated at their rear. At last Joe whispered
exultantly in his chum's ear:
"Tom, that's a real fighting bunch."
"You've hit the truth at first trial," returned Skipper Tom, in an
undertone, as he kept his glance ahead over the river.
"I'm not much given to exaggeration, am I, Tom?"
"I never knew that you had an acquaintance with exaggeration," Halstead
answered.
"Then perhaps you'll believe me, Tom, when I tell you that I'd follow
those officers over Niagara or into Vesuvius, if they happened to be
bound either way."
"I know you would, Joe," Tom answered, without smiling, for he knew his
chum through and through.
"Tom, those young officers would _assay up a big lot of fight to the
ton_!"
Having thus relieved himself of that strong conviction Joe Dawson seated
himself on the roof of the forward house and did not speak again for
twenty minutes.
By the time that the eight miles upstream had been covered, and Skipper
Tom Halstead had headed the boat down again for its straight
sixteen-mile run, he called down to his chum:
"Joe, will you come up and hold the wheel for me for two or three
minutes?"
"Coming," Dawson sang cheerily.
But Dave Darrin stepped forward with:
"Skipper, can't _I_ hold the wheel for you?"
"Have you ever handled a boat before, sir?" Tom queried, giving this
young man, who was in civilian dress, a keen though good-humored look.
"At least twice," Darrin modestly assured him.
"How big a boat?"
"Up to sixteen thousand tons," Darrin replied, without cracking a smile.
"A wise man is always cautious, Halstead," sang out Lieutenant Prescott
gleefully, "but the man you're talking to is Ensign Darrin of the
United States Navy."
"Take the wheel, Mr. Darrin," replied the youthful skipper, with a grin,
while Joe, halfway up the engine-room steps, took in the scene. "I heard
Mr. Darrin introduced merely as 'mister,'" Halstead explained to the
other officers. "I thought he was either an Army man, or some civilian
friend who had come along."
Skipper Tom Halstead then went below to his stateroom, while observant
Joe Dawson noted that Darrin handled the wheel with skill.
"Shall I give you a little more speed, Mr. Darrin?" called Joe softly.
"I'm only a guest," Dave replied. "Mr. Overton is in command here."
"Thank you, Engineer, but, as we're only cruising I believe our best
move will be to stick to Captain Foster's nine-mile order," Hal replied,
nodding to Joe.
So the cruise continued. Halstead was soon on deck again, but the young
skipper found Darrin so enjoying his trick at the wheel that Skipper Tom
merely stood near to take the trick again whenever the young ensign
showed signs of being tired of his job.
It was late in the night, and the "Restless" was making her third trip
up the river before anything happened. For some time the young Army and
Navy officers had felt more or less bored with the monotony of these
hours of tiresome waiting. Tom Halstead had stretched himself out on the
deck-house for rest, though not to nap, and Hank Butts was at the wheel,
while Joe dozed lightly on a seat in the engine-room. All of the
enlisted men had crowded below, and were dozing.
"Look sharp, there!" cried Lieutenant Hal, suddenly, as he sprang to
Hank's side. "There's a craft moving out from the American shore, about
a mile upstream, isn't there!"
"Something moving, for sure," replied Hank, peering through the
darkness.
"A motor boat?"
"It must be."
"Trail her. Get in closer."
Skipper Tom Halstead now came forward, though he did not take the wheel
from Hank.
"The search-light is ready, whenever you want it, Lieutenant," remarked
the youthful motor boat skipper.
"The use of the light might save the fellows on the other craft some
guessing," smiled Lieutenant Hal. "I want to keep 'em guessing as long
as possible."
"I'll kick on more speed," proposed Hank, reaching for the deck
controls.
"Wait until you get orders," interposed Skipper Tom Halstead. "This is
government business, Hank, and we're not government officers, so we'll
act only under orders."
It was evident that those aboard the craft upstream had made out the
pursuing motor boat. The unknown craft was now heading straight across
the stream, and kicking on some speed.
"How fast is the stranger going?" asked Lieutenant Overton.
"Twenty miles an hour, as nearly as I can guess," replied Skipper Tom.
"How fast can you go?"
"Twenty-six to twenty-eight miles."
"Crowd it about all on, then. I don't want to have that other craft get
too close to Mexico before we push up alongside."
"All speed, Joe, and do it quick!" Skipper Tom called down into the
engine-room. Almost at once the "Restless" earned her name by fairly
leaping forward through the water.
Then the chase began in earnest.
"Noll, pass the word below for a sergeant and six privates," directed
Lieutenant Hal, in a low tone.
The enlisted men came up, taking their places on deck.
"Does the lieutenant want us to load our pieces?" called the sergeant
quietly.
"Not yet," was Hal's reply, passed back by Noll.
Then, on board the pursuing craft, all settled down to absolute
quietness, save for the running of the machinery. The distance between
the two boats was rapidly closing up, for it was plain that the other
boat had started at full speed as soon as she sighted the pursuer.
Glare! A strong, broad beam of light, from the stranger's search-lamp,
shone across the water, then picked up the "Restless" when the two boats
were less than a quarter of a mile apart. The uniforms of Uncle Sam's
blinking men must have stood out strongly before the vision of those on
the stranger.
"You have a megaphone?" asked Lieutenant Hal.
"Yes," replied Skipper Tom, passing the implement.
"Run up just as close as you can safely for a hail."
Lieutenant Hal waited until much more of the distance had been covered.
Then he raised the megaphone to his lips, shouting:
"Lay to, stranger! We are United States officers and must come aboard!"
"You can't!" bellowed a hoarse, defiant voice.
"We _must_ and will! Lay to!"
"Take the consequences, then!" came the same hoarse bellow.
Bang! It came altogether, in one sharp, crashing volley, from the
stranger's decks, and a tempest of bullets hit the "Restless."
"The pirates!" uttered Lieutenant Hal, at a white heat of indignation.