THE MOTOR BOAT MISSING
In his eagerness to listen to what the men were saying Ned had gotten
up on his knees. In doing so he had knocked down a monkey wrench from a
seat, and the tool fell with a clatter to the bottom of the _Dartaway_.
“Some one is listening!” he heard one of the men in the sloop exclaim.
“Nonsense,” the other replied. “It was only an oar banging against the
side of the boat.”
“Some one was listening I tell you! I’m going out to take a look.”
Ned decided it would not be wise for him to be found in the boat.
While the man was ascending to the deck of the sloop the boy crawled
noiselessly over the side of the _Dartaway_ and hid behind a box on the
wharf. From there Ned watched the man leap from the sailing boat to the
dock, and take a careful look around, including making an inspection of
the _Dartaway_.
“See anything?” asked the one who had remained in the cabin.
“No one around. I guess you were right.”
“Course I was. Come aboard and we’ll finish our plans.”
With a rapidly beating heart Ned watched the man until he had
disappeared into the cabin. Then without making any noise, for he wore
rubber soled shoes, he hurried up the dock to the pavilion where the
minstrel performance was going on. He wanted to tell his chums and
decide on a plan of action.
“They’re plotting to wreck a vessel,” thought Ned. “They’re going to do
something to the lighthouse light. We must stop them.”
There was such a big crowd at the show that the boy had some difficulty
in locating his companions. When he did find them it was in the middle
of a chorus, and Ned did not wish to disturb the audience in going to
them, as the two lads were seated well up front. When he did reach them
he whispered:
“Come out! I’ve got something important to tell you!”
“Leave us alone,” spoke Bob. “Go back and dream about Jessica if you
want to. This is fine, and we haven’t eaten yet.”
“Oh, hang you and your eating!” exclaimed Ned in such a loud whisper
that he attracted the attention of several around him.
His manner showed his chums there was something up, and without waiting
for the show to be over they went with Ned. When he was outside he
quickly told them what he had heard.
“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” asked Jerry, half inclined to
doubt what Ned had related.
“Come on, and I’ll show you the sloop.”
The boys went down on the end of the dock where their own, as well as
the sailing vessel had been fastened. Ned was leading the way. As he
reached the place where the _Dartaway_ had been he stopped and rubbed
his eyes.
“Why--why--I wonder if I’m on the wrong dock?” he said, staring about
him.
“What’s up?” inquired Jerry.
“Isn’t this where we left our boat?”
“Sure, there’s only one dock near here. Why?”
“Well, it’s gone.”
“What, the boat or the dock?” asked Bob. “Come on, tell us, I want to
get back and have something to eat.”
“The _Dartaway_ is gone!” exclaimed Ned. “So is the sloop! They’ve
stolen our boat! They must suspect something!”
At first Jerry and Bob could not believe it. Then Ned went over again
all that he had heard, telling how he had slipped away to inform them
of how matters stood.
“They must have known it was our boat,” said Jerry. “Was Bill Berry one
of the men?”
“I couldn’t see them plainly,” Ned replied. “Their voices didn’t either
one of them sound like Bill’s though. What’s to be done?”
“We’d better give notice of our boat being stolen,” said Jerry, “and
think of some scheme to get home. After that we’ll have to turn
detectives and get the _Dartaway_.”
The minstrel show was over when the boys went back to the pavilion, and
the crowd was coming away. The dock was thronged with persons seeking
their boats to make the run for home.
“Hello boys!” called a voice, and they saw Captain Jenkinson, of
the _Three Bells_ coming toward them. “You look as if something had
happened.”
“Something has,” spoke Jerry. “Our boat’s been stolen.”
“Stolen! You don’t mean it. How?”
Ned related how it had happened, saying nothing however of the
conversation he had overheard.
“We’ll tell the manager of the place, and he’ll send out a general
alarm,” said the skipper of the _Three Bells_. “It isn’t the first time
boats have been stolen from the docks around here. I believe there’s an
organized gang. If we had a decent police force here it wouldn’t happen
so often.”
The manager of the pavilion and amusement resort, who was also a sort
of deputy sheriff, promised the boys to do what he could to recover
their craft. He said he would have notices of the theft posted at his
dock and all the other wharves along the coast.
“How you boys going to get home?” asked Captain Jenkinson.
“Walk I guess,” replied Jerry with a laugh. “It’s only about five miles
by the shore road.”
“Well I guess you’ll not walk while there’s gasolene in the _Three
Bells_,” was the hearty answer. “Get aboard. We’ll cruise around a bit,
and maybe we’ll get sight of those rascals on the sloop. They probably
sailed out to sea, towing your boat, and they’ll be likely to hide it
in some cove until the affair blows over.”
Captain Jenkinson had a party of friends aboard his boat, but there
was plenty of room for the boys. There was much sympathy expressed for
them, and every one volunteered to be on the lookout for the _Dartaway_.
In the powerful boat quite an area of the bay in the vicinity of the
dock was covered, in a search for a sight of the sloop. It was a fairly
light night, and a sailing vessel could be made out some distance away.
There were several false alarms, and once the _Three Bells_ gave chase
to a sloop that seemed trying to get away. But when they got up to her
they found it was only a fishing boat getting a start for early morning
work, and there was no sign of the boys’ craft.
“Too bad!” remarked Captain Jenkinson, as he landed the boys at their
dock. “But it’s sure to turn up sooner or later. They’ll not dare to
sell her, and can only keep her hidden. There are not many places where
a boat the size of yours can be tucked away.”
It was kindly and well meant consolation, but the boys never felt in
lower spirits than they did that night. Mrs. Hopkins tried to cheer
them up, but it was hard work. She even suggested they hire another
boat and make a search of the nearby harbors, for the missing one.
“I guess that’s a good plan,” said Jerry to his chums. “We’ll do it
to-morrow.”
“What ought we to do about warning Mr. Hardack?” asked Ned, as they got
ready to retire.
“Oh, I almost forgot about that,” came from Jerry. “I guess there will
be time in the morning. Besides, we want to think it over a little
more.”