The slight, swarthy stranger rolled his cigarette up nicely, moistening
the edge of the paper, stuck the thing between his lips, lighted the
tobacco and began to smoke in evident enjoyment.
"That's my party, all right," quivered Tom. "And now I've found him what
on earth am I going to do with him?"
That was a new poser. Halstead had been so intent on identifying his
suspect that, now he recognized him, he must figure out what was to be
done.
"If the fellow is all right he ought to have no objections to going
along with me and answering questions. If he won't do that"--here Tom's
eyes began to flash--"I believe I'll make him. This is a business that
calls for stern measures. This fellow belongs to the crowd that must
know all about Ted Dunstan's disappearance."
Yet, to look at him, one would hardly suspect the swarthy man leaning
against the pier rail of being a conspirator. As he smoked he appeared
to be wholly at peace with himself and with the world. He did not seem
to have a care on earth.
As he still crouched behind a bush, watching the nearby fellow in the
dark, an impulse of mischief came to Tom Halstead. He remembered that
night prowling about the "Meteor" over at Wood's Hole, and he remembered
how Bouncer had frightened this same man.
"Gr-r-r-r!" sounded Tom suddenly from behind the bush. "Gr-r-r-r! Woof!
Woof!"
It was a splendid imitation of the growl and bark of a bulldog. At the
same instant Tom made a semi-spring through the bush.
The "pirate" uttered a wordless howl of fright. He lurched, attempted to
recover himself and leap at the same instant, and----
Splash! There was another howl of terror as 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 Tom Halstead's mind as could be.
With an upward bound he sprinted out onto the pier, bending under the
rail close to where the frightened one was making huge rings on the
water in his struggle to keep up.
In his efforts the fellow reached one of the piles 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 I drown."
Throwing himself upon the pier, Tom bent down with both hands.
"Here, catch hold," he hailed. "You're in no danger. I'll pull you out
all right."
It was some moments before Tom could persuade his "pirate" to let go
that frantic clutch at the pile. But at length Halstead drew his
dripping suspect up onto the boards of the pier.
"Where is that terrible, that miser-r-rable dog!" panted the swarthy
one, glaring about him.
"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 around him. "The wr-r-retched animal sprang for me. His
teeth almost grazed my leg."
Such was the power of imagination--a fine tribute to Tom's skill as a
mimic.
"Aren't you thinking of the other night, over at Wood's Hole, when you
tried to get aboard the 'Meteor' to wreck the engine?"
Halstead shot this question out with disconcerting suddenness. The young
skipper looked straight, keenly, into the other's eyes, standing so that
he could prevent the stranger's sudden bolt from the pier.
"I? What do you talk about?" demanded the foreigner, pretending
astonishment.
"Oh, I know all about you," nodded Tom. "You're the party."
"Be careful, boy! You insult me!" cried the other angrily.
"That's all right, then," Tom went on coolly. "Now maybe I'm going to
insult you a little more. The trouble is, I need information, and you're
the best one to give it to me. Where's Ted 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--do not know
him."
"Yet you appear to know that he is a boy," insisted Tom sternly. "Come,
now, if you won't talk with me you'd better walk along with me, and
we'll find some one you'll be more willing to answer."
"How? I walk with you? Boy, do not be a fool," retorted the swarthy one
angrily. "I shall not walk with you. I do not like your company."
"I'm not sure that I like yours, either," retorted the boy. "But there
are times when I cannot afford to be particular. Come, why should you
object to walking along with me? All I propose is that we find the
nearest constable and that you answer his questions. The constable will
decide whether to hold you or not."
"Step aside," commanded the swarthy man imperiously. Full of outraged
dignity he attempted to brush past the young skipper. But Tom Halstead,
both firm and cool, now that his mind was made up, took a grip on the
fellow's left arm.
"Take your hand off! Let me go!" screamed the fellow, his eyes ablaze
with passion. "Out of my way, idiot, and take yourself off!"
As the swarthy one struggled to free himself Tom only tightened his
grip, much as the bull pup would have done.
"Don't be disagreeable," urged Tom. "Come, my request is a very proper
one. I'm only asking you to go before one of the officers of the law. No
honest man can really object to that."
"You----" screamed the foreigner.
He shot his right hand suddenly into a jacket pocket. But Tom, watching
every movement alertly, let go of the fellow's left arm, making a bound
and seizing his right arm with both strong hands. There was a fierce
struggle, but Halstead's muscles had been toughened by exercise and by
many days of hard work at a steering wheel in rough weather. This slight
man from another country was no match for the American boy.
Down they went to the flooring of the pier with a crash, but young
Halstead was uppermost. In another twinkling he was bending the swarthy
one's right arm until that fellow was ready to sue for a truce.
Tom now held him helpless, kneeling on him.
"What were you trying to fish out of that jacket pocket?" demanded the
young motor boat captain, thrusting his own hand in. He drew out
something and held it up briefly--a clasp knife.
"A coward's tool!" uttered Tom, his voice ringing scornfully. Then he
threw the clasp knife far out so that it splashed in the water. "Why
don't you cultivate a man's muscle and fight like a man, instead of
toting around things like that? Come, get up on your feet."
Bounding up, Halstead yanked the other upright. In a twinkling the
swarthy man broke from 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 resolute young captor! They were about of a height, these two, and
might have weighed about the same. But the man possessed nowhere near
the strength of this sea-toughened boy.
"Now see here," spoke Tom more pleasantly, "I'm doing what I think is
right or I wouldn't venture to be so rough. Walk along with me sensibly,
until we can find out where a constable lives. I've got the best of you
and you realize I can do it again. But I don't want to be rough with
you. It goes against the grain."
The swarthy one's only answer was to glare at the young skipper with a
look full of hate.
Tom suddenly changed his tone.
"I know what you're thinking of, my man," he cried tauntingly. "You are
just thinking to yourself what a fine time you'd have with me if you had
me down in Honduras--where your friends do things in a different way!"
The taunt told, for the stranger's eyes gleamed 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," mocked Halstead. "Honduras is your
country, and now I know to a dot why you're interested in having Ted
Dunstan vanish and stay vanished for a while. Come along, now. We'll
keep right on until we find that constable!"
Tom seized the stranger's right arm in earnest now. The other held back,
as though he would resist, but suddenly changed his mind.
"You are somewhat the stronger--with hands," he said in an ugly tone.
"So I shall go with you. But perhaps you will much regret what you are
doing to-night."
"Oh, I hope not," Tom jeered cheerily. "At all events I'm doing the best
I know how. And I'm glad you're not going to make any fuss. I hate to be
cranky with anyone."
The place to which the pier belonged looked, from what Tom had been able
to see of it, like a run-down coast farm. Away up on a hill to the left
were a dilapidated old farm house and other buildings. Halstead feared,
though, that the stranger might have friends up at that house and so
decided to keep on through the woods at the right.
Before long they struck a fairly well defined road through the forest, a
road that looked as though it might lead to somewhere in particular.
"We'll keep right on along this road, if you don't mind," said the boy.
He kept now only a fair hold of the other's wrist. As the swarthy one
offered no opposition, they made passably good speed over the road. But
Tom, though he looked unconcerned, was wholly on the alert for any
sudden move on the part of his captive.
"If I find I'm wholly in the wrong," said Tom pleasantly, after they had
gone at least a quarter of a mile in this fashion, "there isn't anyone
in the whole United States who'd be more glad to make a complete
apology."
"But that will not save you from trouble," breathed the swarthy one
angrily. "The laws of your country do not allow such high-handed deeds
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 me about Honduras," he went on
presently. "Why do you say so much about Honduras?"
"I've trapped you into admitting that it's your country," laughed
Halstead. "And that tells me, too, why you are so interested in having
Ted Dunstan kept out of sight for the next few days."
"What's all this talk about Honduras?" demanded a gruff voice. The
challenge made both jump. A stocky figure stepped alertly out from
behind a tree. It was the solidly built, florid-faced man--the other of
the pair Tom had first seen in the seat ahead.
"Oh, you, you, you!" cried the swarthy one delightedly, as he wrenched
his captive wrist free from Halstead's weakening clutch. "You have
appeared in time, my friend!"
"So?" roared the florid-faced one, taking a business-like grip of Tom
Halstead's collar. "What was this young cub doing?"
"Doing?" cried the swarthy one, dancing in his wrath, his eyes gleaming
like coals. "He had the impudence, this boy, to say he would take me to
a constable. He insists that I know all about one Ted Dunstan."
"Does, eh?" growled the powerful, florid-faced one, giving Tom a mighty
shake. "Then we'll take care of this young man! Oh, we'll give him a
pleasant time!"
"Yes, yes! Just as we would in Honduras!" laughed the swarthy one
gleefully. "He has been asking much, just now, about the way they do
things in Honduras."
"Then he'll be sure to be just the lad who'll appreciate a little
information at first hand!" jeered Tom's captor.