A RACE FOR MIXED PRIZES
As the moon's ray vanished behind a cloud Jacob Farnum was breathing
hard.
Nor was it any wonder that the boatbuilder felt staggered with
astonishment. He had grown to trust Captain Jack Benson to the utmost.
Now, to find him faithless came like a heavy blow on the head.
To this man's ears came Don's low but clear cut tones:
"You'll keep your eyes open, won't you, Benson, and bring us all the
points you can? Anything that you think will be useful to us?"
The boy in uniform nodded. Though the boatbuilder could not see the
uniformed one's face very well, he observed that nod, as did also
Messrs. Emerson and Melville.
"You don't want to have anyone see us here together, then," went on Don.
"So scoot! You know how to communicate with me when you want to.
That's all."
Don waved his hand as a sign of dismissal.
The other boy, with a nod, turned to make his way off. "No, by the
Great Porpoise, that isn't all!"
The words, shouted, with a tremendous energy behind them, caused some
other hearts to bound.
Jacob Farnum, his blood now boiling, found himself unable to contain
himself any longer.
As he shouted out, he burst through the bushes, making a bee-line for
the departing boy in uniform.
Don Melville gasped, in sheer dismay, yet he had the presence of mind
to yell:
"Scoot, Benson! Travel as fast as ever you can!"
Then Don ran a few steps in the opposite direction. Young Melville was
a very fair sprinter, but he wanted to have a bit of a start in case
of need.
"Melville, you young scoundrel, I'll settle with you later!" roared
Jacob Farnum, keeping on down the road.
Straight in the middle of the road the fugitive was now dashing along,
until Don yelled after him:
"Take to the woods, Benson! You can lose him there!"
"I'll get him, anywhere on earth!" shouted Jacob Farnum, full of purpose
and vim.
The boatbuilder was long-legged and slim. He had been a runner at
college, and now his old knack was coming back to him.
Undoubtedly the most humiliated man present was George Melville. Though
that capitalist had not been averse to stooping to the purchase of
secrets from another man's trusted employe, he felt badly indeed to have
Farnum detect his son.
So George Melville now came out quickly from cover.
"Don," he demanded, "how could Farnum ever have gotten wind of this?"
"Talk it over with Mr. Emerson," panted Don Melville. "I'm off after
Benson and Farnum."
With that Don put his own sprinting abilities to the test, dashing into
the woods at the point where he had seen the others vanish.
Though it flashed through George Melville's head that Broughton Emerson
must have given information to the rival boatbuilder, the elder Melville
did not now stop to question Mr. Emerson.
Instead, the father, who was rather heavy, started off puffily in the
wake of his son.
"This looks like ticklish business," George Melville told himself, "and
Don, though usually self-contained, is hot enough of temper, at a time
like this, to make matters pretty bad for all concerned."
Wanting to see the matter through Broughton Emerson kept a little to
the rear of the other capitalist. It was a curious Indian file that
stretched out through the woods with the uniformed boy in the lead.
"You may as well stop!" yelled Jacob Farnum, after the fugitive. "I'm
going to catch you, anyway!"
It looked that way, indeed. Dark as it was, with the moon behind a
cloud, the running boy, looking back over his shoulder, could see the
enraged boatbuilder coming after him at great strides.
Mr. Farnum was soon so close upon the heels of his quarry that he could
all but reach out his hand and grasp the boy's collar. But just then
the boy went down to earth, instantly rolling himself as nearly into a
ball as he could.
Jacob Farnum, unable to stop in time, tripped and fell over the fugitive,
plunging, head-first, into a clump of bushes and scratching himself.
With a jubilant laugh the boy in uniform was up again, and off. He got
a good start, but the boatbuilder, after listening a few seconds, and
getting the sounds of flight, bounded off, once more, in the right
direction.
Don had halted precipitately, when he saw the tumble, but now he too
darted forward once more.
"If Farnum can catch him," shivered Do; "I've got to be at hand to help
out in a lightning rescue."
Mr. Farnum did some tall running before he again came in sight of the
runner ahead.
Yet the pursuit had not reached its finish. The fugitive suddenly dived
through a fringe of bushes, going out of sight.
Mr. Farnum reached the spot, then halted, looking undecided, almost
bewildered.
There was now no sound to guide the pursuer.
"Confound him, if he has gotten away," muttered the boatbuilder,
impatiently, to himself. Yet he did not dare risk running forward in
any direction, for fear of getting further from his quarry.
Don Melville halted, too, chuckling softly to himself.
"Oh, you!" snorted Farnum, glancing backward over his shoulder in high
disgust.
Don chuckled again.
Just then the sound of stealthily moving feet came to the boatbuilder's
ears. Don, in his glee, had lost the chance to make so much noise with
his own feet that the other boy could steal softly away undetected.
Without a word, now, the boatbuilder sprang forward. As he advanced, he
heard the running of the uniformed boy plainly enough, and, a moment
later, came in sight.
Now, Jacob Farnum, though not much given to making empty threats, decided
to try the effect of a ruse.
"You! You ahead!" he shouted. "Stop, or I'll send some lead after
you. Do you want me to fire?"
Swift as thought Don Melville, again in pursuit at the rear, yelled:
"Don't mind him, Benson! Scoot! He hasn't any gun."
"If some fairy only would take care of that snake-in-the-grass behind
me!" quivered Mr. Farnum, silently.
Having the uniformed boy plainly in sight, though some hundred or more
feet ahead, Farnum by no means felt like giving up the race. All the
same, the boatbuilder, long out of practice in athletics, was beginning
to feel severely the effects of this chase over rough ground and through
bushes.
"I've got to die or get him!" muttered Farnum, doggedly, between his
teeth. "Oh, for a little light on this cloudy night! If I could be
sure the fellow is, or isn't, Benson, I might be more willing to drop
this pace!"
Putting on a better spurt, as a last, desperate resort, Farnum did all
in his power to overtake the uniformed boy.
He seemed likely enough to do it--would have done it, no doubt, but for
a new trick on the part of the enemy.
Don Melville, seeing how matters were going, and being in much better
training, increased his own burst of speed, running as softly as
possible.
Then, with an exultant cry, Don leaped upon the back of Jacob Farnum,
catching him around the neck and bearing him to the ground.
"Run, Benson!" cheered young Melville, "He'll never catch you now!"