TRAPPED!
Jack had remained motionless, watching this strange spectacle, but he
now crept noiselessly astern while the men were engaged with their
discovery. Evidently they did not notice his form pass the port-hole,
but the most critical part of his task lay ahead. If only he could
reach the cockpit unobserved and fasten Hegan and Martin up in the
cabin, the tables would, indeed, be turned.
The lad peered cautiously round the after end of the deck-house and
his face brightened, for one of the doors was half closed. That gave
him a chance to approach the companionway without being seen. His
movements, however, had to be slow, for any sudden jerk on the part of
the sloop would instantly have aroused the suspicion of the men. He
hardly breathed as he put one foot over the edge of the cockpit and
upon the broad seat, his eyes glued the while on the doors, which swung
outward. There was a bare chance that he might bang both of them to and
fasten them before Hegan and Martin had time to interfere. It would be
the work of an instant only, once he got near enough to accomplish his
object, and the catch with which the closed doors could be fastened
together was hanging down temptingly.
A fresh dispute had evidently arisen between the two men, for they were
speaking angrily once more, and while they were so engaged the boy
gently closed the half-open door. Then with a swift movement he reached
across for the other door and closed it with a bang, snapping the catch
across firmly.
Instantly an outcry arose in the cabin.
“Who’s there?” shouted Martin.
“Open that door!” yelled Hegan.
For answer Jack took a key from his pocket, slipped the padlock through
the catch, and locked it.
“Come on, Rod,” he called, springing back on deck from the cockpit and
taking the dinghy’s painter aboard. “We’ve got them!”
“What? How did you do it?” Rod asked, puzzled. His nerves had been
sorely tried by an anxious wait of fully five minutes during which time
anything might have happened at any moment.
“I shut the door on them, that’s all. They were asleep at the switch!”
“Hello, there! Open this door!” the two men were now shouting together.
“You stop where you are, and be quiet,” Jack shouted back.
“Listen to me,” Hegan called out. “What’s the idea of fastening us up?
Can’t you take a joke?”
“Oh, yes,” said Jack. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Well, this ain’t funny,” replied Hegan. “Just you open the door, an’
we’ll call it quits.”
“Not likely,” said the boy. “I’ll open the door when we get back to
Greenport and there’s a police officer to talk to you as you come out.
Perhaps you can explain to him what you mean by turning me off my boat
and smashing my cabin up.”
“If you don’t let us out I’ll break the door open and then you’ll have
real trouble on your hands!”
“They’ll have some difficulty in breaking that door open,” said Rodney.
“Meanwhile, look at that!” He pointed to the canvas which was again
fluttering. “Pretty soon we’ll be able to sail back.”
“Not till this fog lifts,” replied Jack. “I’ve got a compass, but it’s
in the locker down there. There she comes,” he added as a puff of wind
swept over the sea. “This’ll soon blow the fog away.”
The men below had been quiet for a few moments, evidently holding a
council of war.
“Jack,” Hegan called out at last.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to open this door and have a talk.”
“You can talk where you are if you want to. I’m listening.”
“Yes, but I want to get out.”
“I have told you I’m not going to let you out.”
“If you don’t, it’ll be your funeral,” declared Hegan. “Listen here,
we made up our minds that we weren’t going to hurt any one if we could
help it.”
“Well, you’re not hurting any one,” retorted Jack, with a laugh.
“We will if we start shooting. We’ve got plenty of cartridges left and
they’ll go clean through this door. One of you may get killed, so I’m
giving you fair warning.”
“I’m willing to take a chance,” replied Jack, moving from the
companionway door, and seeking safety on deck. “You blaze away if it
amuses you.”
Immediately there came a muffled report from the interior of the cabin,
and a bullet piercing the woodwork, sang its way over the stern of the
sloop.
“Now, will you let us out?” Hegan demanded.
“Yes, very soon,” replied Jack. “We’ll be in Greenport before long.”
Another shot rang out, and Jack, who had taken hold of the wheel, gave
a start as the bullet narrowly missed him. The breeze was freshening
rapidly, and already he could dimly make out a portion of the
coast-line, which gave the captain a general idea in which direction to
steer. But to stand there and deliberately present himself as a target
for the two ruffians in the cabin, had no appeal for him whatever. He
slipped behind the wheel, and crouched down as low as possible, at the
same time motioning Rodney to go forward, out of range.
“Don’t take any chances, Rod,” he advised.
The _Sea-Lark_ was now leaning over gently before the breeze, and
beginning to cut along slowly toward the harbor.
“They couldn’t hit a hay-stack in a passage,” shouted Rodney,
derisively, as he skipped into the bow.
Immediately a shot came flying through the forward end of the
deck-house, and Rodney ducked behind the mast.
“Have you two had enough of it yet?” Hegan bawled.
“Keep her going, if it amuses you,” replied Jack from his
vantage-ground. “The more shots you fire now, the better I like it. All
these holes in the side of the cabin will make the evidence against you
lots worse.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” said Hegan. “You’re only making it worse for
yourselves when I get at you. I’m going to shoot the lock off if you
don’t unfasten it, but I’ll keep a shot for you.”
Jack knew well enough that this would prove no idle threat if the men
did succeed in blowing the fastening off the door, and they would be
able to do that easily enough if their ammunition held out. Still, it
was something to be forewarned.
“Rod!” he called out, beckoning with his finger.
Rodney quickly came aft.
“I want you to take this wheel,” Jack said. “Keep down as much as you
can and they’ll never hit you.”
“What are _you_ going to do?”
“I’m going to get ready with the boat-hook, in case they manage to
break the door open,” replied the other, grimly, as another shot came
through the side of the cabin and buried itself in the woodwork of the
cockpit. “See, they’ve started to fire around the lock. It won’t hold
forever under that sort of treatment. If only we could keep them there
another half-hour we should be round the end of the breakwater, but I’m
afraid they’ll smash their way out before that.”
“You stick to the steering,” said Rodney. “I’ll tackle them with the
boat-hook.”
“If you don’t do as I tell you,” said the captain, firmly, “I’ll swing
her up into the wind, and we’ll lose time. Ouch!” he added, as another
bullet whizzed past.
Reluctantly Rodney obeyed. Jack seized the boat-hook, and stood on the
deck at the edge of the cockpit, ready for the struggle which he now
felt was inevitable. It would still have been possible for him and his
chum to get away in the dinghy, but the sloop was heading for harbor,
and there was a tempting sporting chance for Jack to win out. Moreover,
he was by no means sure that if he and Rodney did get away in the
dinghy Hegan and his confederate would allow them to escape scot-free,
for the men could overtake the dinghy rapidly, now that a fresh breeze
was filling the sails.
Two more shots rang out, and the door of the companionway became badly
splintered.
“Are you going to let us out?” demanded Hegan’s voice, in menacing
tones.
Jack cautiously moved out of the way before replying.
“No, and if you put your head out you’ll get the boat-hook on top of
it!” he shouted.
There was a brief pause, and then a heavy thumping began on the inside
of the door. The men were using the table as a battering-ram. Jack
moved nearer the cockpit again, and stood watching with misgiving the
effects of the resounding blows. Suddenly Rodney gave a startled cry,
at the same time pointing ahead.
Round the end of the breakwater, with all sails set, a fishing-schooner
was coming.
“Starboard a bit, Rod, and cut her off,” said Jack. “Hegan, you’d
better stop that now,” he added, raising his voice. “There’s a schooner
coming.”
This information was apparently far from good news to the two captives.
The battering ceased momentarily, and three shots were fired in rapid
succession at the lock, which almost broke away. When the shots ceased
Jack leaped down into the cockpit, with the boat-hook raised above his
head, ready to defend himself as the men broke out of the cabin, but
the instant he landed in front of the door another bullet tore its way
through the woodwork, and he felt a sharp, stinging pain in his leg,
just above the knee. With an involuntary cry he clapped his hand to the
injured place.
“Come and take the wheel,” cried Rodney. “You’ve been hit, haven’t you?”
“Stop where you are. It’s nothing,” replied Jack, gritting his teeth
nevertheless as his leg began to throb. The boat-hook was but an
indifferent weapon against men with loaded revolvers, but it seemed to
Jack that the enemy would have only a few shots left, if any. The
sloop and the schooner, moreover, were now approaching each other
rapidly. The fishing-vessel had gone about, and her present course was
taking her almost straight toward the _Sea-Lark_. Another minute or
so would bring the vessels within speaking distance. Rod was already
signaling as best he could.
Below deck, the prisoners were again assailing the door, and blows fell
with telling effect against the weakening lock. With poised boat-hook,
Jack watched and waited. Suddenly, with a crash, the doors flew open
and Hegan, his face contorted with rage, leaped up the steps.
“Drop that boat-hook!” he commanded savagely, his revolver pointing
at Jack’s breast. Behind him, Martin peered across his shoulder, his
features set in a malicious grin.
Jack, backing away, pointed to the schooner. “You’re too late, Hegan,”
he said.
[Illustration: “You’re too late, Hegan,” he said]
Hegan shot a quick glance over the water and then, with a snarl of
rage, hurled his revolver straight at the boy’s face. Jack ducked, but
not in time to escape a glancing blow on the top of the head, which
sent him reeling back. Seizing his advantage, Hegan leaped forward,
but Rodney with a final hail to the schooner, now close at hand,
left the wheel and hurled himself on top of Hegan. His weight bore
the man down, and Jack, recovering, steadied himself to meet a new
onslaught which came from Martin. Clutching the barrel of his empty
weapon, Martin aimed a blow, but Jack was before him and brought the
boat-hook crashing down on the man’s arm. The revolver dropped to the
floor of the cockpit just as a deep voice came from the deck of the
fishing-craft.
“Hello, there! Hello, there! What’s all this about?” It was Bob Sennet
who spoke, and with flopping sails the _Ellen E. Hanks_ nosed alongside
the _Sea-Lark_, and the skipper, his huge hands bunched formidably,
leaped to the deck of the sloop.
“You’re just in time, Captain,” growled Hegan. “These young ruffians
were nearly killing the pair of us.”
Bob Sennet’s eyes fell on the dark mark on Jack’s trousers, which were
already badly stained from his wound. From there his gaze traveled
to the revolver at Martin’s feet. Jack, now that the worst of the
excitement was over, was feeling curiously weak. He sank down on the
cockpit seat, and hoped fervently that he was not going to do anything
so foolish as faint. It was as though a red-hot iron was being bored
into his leg, and he felt absurdly dizzy.
“Give me that gun,” the fisherman demanded of Martin, who picked up the
weapon and handed it over.
Hegan made a movement in the direction of the dinghy, whereupon Bob
Sennet strode forward, took him by the collar, and flung him roughly
into the bottom of the cockpit.
“So these two boys were nearly killing the pair of you, were they!” the
burly fisherman said. “I’ve seen one of ’em at the wheel for the last
five minutes. The other has a boat-hook in his hand, and a bullet in
his leg, if I’m not mistaken. That yarn don’t go with me, and it won’t
go with the police. Have they another gun, Jack?” he demanded suddenly.
“They had, but Hegan threw it at me when it was empty, and it must
have gone overboard.”
“What’s their game?”
“I don’t quite know, Captain Sennet,” replied Jack, “but I’d be very
much obliged if you’d help us back to Greenport.”
“You bet I will! Now, then, you two,” he went on addressing Hegan and
Martin, “get onto the schooner. Nearly killing the pair of you, were
they? A fine yarn! Hey! What in _thunder_!” Captain Sennet’s head went
forward and his eyes widened in astonishment as he saw the broken,
bullet-torn doors of the companion way. “Has somebody gone _crazy_!” he
added.
Jack was by now in a state of semi-collapse, and the fisherman, picking
him up, laid him gently on the deck of the sloop.
“They turned us adrift in the dory,” Rodney explained, “but there
wasn’t any wind, so we were able to paddle alongside again and Jack
slipped aboard and fastened them up in the cabin.”
“Well, I dunno,” said Captain Sennet, “but by rights you two ought
both to be dead now, ’cording to what’s been going on. Joe,” he called
out, raising his voice and addressing the mate on board the schooner,
“tie those two beauties up good and tight, or they might get away from
you yet. Now pass a line aboard here, and beat it back to the harbor.”
In a few minutes the schooner was heading for Greenport, with the
_Sea-Lark_ in tow, and Captain Sennet was standing, amazed, amid the
scene of wreckage in this little cabin of the sloop.
“Say!” He pushed his cap back and rubbed his head perplexedly,
addressing Rodney. “For the love of Mike, will you just tell me what
them fellers have been up to in here? Half the sheathing is torn down!
They must ha’ gone clean crazy. Why――” Suddenly he stopped and his jaw
dropped, as, turning round and glancing on to one of the bunks, he saw
something which took away his breath.
“What in _thunder_!” he began; and then, with a broad smile he leaned
over the bunk and fingered his discovery.
“Money!” exclaimed Rodney.
“Some one must ha’ been robbing a bank!” laughed Captain Sennet.
“Fives――tens――twenties! Ho, ho! I reckon that accounts for some o’ the
milk in this particular cocoanut. Let’s put it in that thing,” he went
on, picking up a canvas bag and stowing the pile of paper currency and
coins into it. “Guess I’ll take charge o’ this till we find whose it
is,” he added, dropping the bag into his pocket.
Back on deck, he gave his attention to Jack.
“We’ll have you in a doctor’s hands soon,” he said. “Much pain?”
“Not too much,” said Jack, with a grimace. “My head hurts most. I don’t
think the bullet wound amounts to much.”
“Let’s have a look at it,” said the fisherman, rolling up the boy’s
trouser leg and displaying a clean wound in the flesh about four inches
above the knee. The bullet had entered the flesh at the front and
passed out again at the back without touching the bone. Rodney produced
a handkerchief, and the skipper bathed the injury with sea-water.
“Never mind if it smarts a bit,” he said. “You want it clean, anyway.
There’s no great harm done there, though it’s a mystery to me how you
both got off as lightly as you did, with all that lead flying around.
“Had you got any money hidden in that cabin o’ yours, Jack?” he asked,
after binding up the wound with the handkerchief.
“Money?” the lad asked. “There was about eighty cents in my coat
pocket. That’s all I know of.”
“I mean a pile o’ money.”
“A pile?” asked the captain of the _Sea-Lark_. “I know there wasn’t any
other money in the place. I _ought_ to know.”
“That’s just what you _didn’t_ know,” replied the fisherman. “I think
I begin to understand it, though. You’ve seen that mess those fellers
have made o’ the inside o’ the cabin?”
“I saw that through the port-hole.”
Captain Sennet drew the canvas bag from his pocket.
“This must ha’ been what they were after,” he said. He held it out and
Jack examined it curiously. On its side was printed “Barker and Holden.”
“I don’t understand,” said the boy, opening the bag, and looking in
puzzlement at the bills and coin within.
“You don’t know anything about it, do you, Rod?”
“Never saw it before in my life,” answered Rodney, blankly. “Whose is
it?”
“I don’t know,” said Jack. “I don’t understand it at all!”
“No, nor me, neither,” said the fisherman. “Leastwise, I ain’t got the
proper hang of it, but I’ve got a notion, just the same. You say these
two men set you adrift in the dinghy?”
Jack nodded.
“And then as soon as your backs were turned they started to strip off
all the sheathing o’ the cabin?”
“Why, yes. And I saw Hegan put his hand behind one of the boards and
lift this bag out.”
“Then,” declared Captain Sennet, logically, “if they went after this
they must ha’ knowed it was there, and if they did _they must ha’ been
the ones who put it there_! Who else could ha’ knowed where it was,
besides them as put it there?”
Jack sat up suddenly, with a most astounding idea in his head. “I’m
going to count it,” he announced.
“Count it, eh?” said Bob Sennet. “All right. Might as well know what
we’ve got.”
Eagerly Jack emptied the contents of the sack upon the seat and, with
the others watching curiously, counted bills and coins. At last,
“Twelve hundred and forty dollars!” he cried excitedly. “Just what I
suspected! Don’t you see, Captain?”
Bob Sennet shook his head. “Can’t say I do, Jack. Guess you’d better
tell me.”
“Why――why, this is the money my father was robbed of three years ago!”
“What!” exclaimed Rodney. “But how did it get here?”
“I don’t know, but――”
“I do,” interrupted the captain of the _Ellen E. Hanks_. “Those
sculpins put it here.”
“But――but when? The _Sea-Lark’s_ been lying over on the dunes for two
years or more!”
“Well, what of it?” asked Bob Sennet. “Wasn’t nothing to keep them from
going over there and dropping the bag behind the cabin sheathing, was
there? If they wanted to hide it that was a pretty good place, wasn’t
it? And――why, look here, Jack, maybe these fellows is the ones that
stole the money from your father!”
“I wonder!” said Jack. “Anyway, it’s all a puzzle to me. Why should the
men have hidden it on the _Sea-Lark_? And if they did hide it there,
why didn’t they take it away again during all the time the sloop lay on
the dunes?”
Bob Sennet shook his head in perplexity. “Now’s the time to find out,
if it ever is to be found out,” he said as the schooner’s sails dropped
and she sidled toward her usual berth, much to the surprise of those
who had seen her put to sea a short time before.
“What’s amiss?” Cap’n Crumbie shouted from Garnett and Sayer’s wharf,
seeing the sloop towing astern and Bob Sennet aboard of her.
“Telephone to the police station,” replied Captain Sennet, “and tell
the chief he’s wanted down here, quick. I want to get off to sea as
soon as I can.”
The watchman delivered the message, and shortly afterward the chief
stepped on board the _Ellen E. Hanks_, where the crew were standing
expectantly in a group. Jack, limping painfully, had joined them,
determined to see the thing through now. Rodney and Cap’n Crumbie had
also gone on to the schooner as a matter of course.
“What is it?” asked the chief as he stepped off the wharf.
“There’s two men trussed up in the cabin, who are going to prison for
several years, if I’m any judge,” replied the skipper. “Theft, and
usin’ firearms, and goodness knows what else. We happened along just
when they were in the thick of it. Afore you go down and take a squint
at ’em I want to tell you all I know.”
“Go ahead,” replied the chief, alert and ready to grasp the essential
points of the case. Bob Sennet briefly told of all he had seen, and
showed the bag of money to the police official, who raised his eyebrows
in astonishment.
“And you say there’s just twelve hundred and forty dollars there! That
must be the stolen bag, all right,” he said. “This explains a lot that
we didn’t rightly understand before.” The latter remark was addressed
to Jack. “But the robbery took place a long time ago, and we may have
difficulty in fastening the guilt on these men, even if they are the
actual culprits, unless one of them can be made to confess. However, I
may be able to work it. Men of that kind have no scruples when it comes
to saving their own skins. Bring them up on deck one at a time.”
A minute later the man known as Martin was ushered into the presence of
the chief. The latter looked at him curiously for a brief space, and
then smiled grimly.
“Hello, Whitey,” he said. “Going by the name of Martin now, are you,
eh? Haven’t seen you for quite a while.”
“My name ain’t White,” the man blustered.
“It used to be. It was, anyway, when you and your pal were arrested
at Baymouth for burglary, and you were both sent to prison for three
years. You only got out a while back, didn’t you?”
“Well, what about it?” demanded White, in a surly manner, seeing that
further denial was useless.
“Only this, that I’m afraid you’ll have to go back again, and for a
longer spell this time.”
“What for?” asked White. “We’ve only been defending ourselves against
these boys.”
“That yarn won’t go,” replied the chief. “The captain of this schooner
saw too much for you to get out of it. But I’m not talking about
to-day’s affair. It’s something else you’ll stand trial for.”
“I haven’t done anything,” growled the man.
“Haven’t, eh? What about knocking down Sam Holden three years ago and
getting away with twelve hundred dollars? Forgotten all about that,
have you?”
“I wasn’t in on that. You can’t prove――”
“How’d you come by the money, then?” snapped the chief.
White darted a glance at the stern faces encircling him and moistened
his lips.
“It was Hegan hit him,” he blurted.
“How do you know?”
“I saw him,” White floundered.
“Thank you,” said the chief, ironically. “That is just what I wanted
to be sure of. What happened after the pair of you got away with the
money?”
Again White looked round appealingly to those near, and hesitated.
“You’d better come across,” urged the chief. “We’ve got you, remember,
and you can’t squirm out of it. You must have hidden the money in the
cabin of the sloop at once, because it was only the next day that you
and Hegan were arrested at Baymouth, and you’ve been in the prison
since then, until very recently. It may make it easier for you if you
tell me the truth now.”
White shrugged his shoulders.
“It wasn’t me hit Holden on the head, remember,” he said. “I was
against that sort of thing all along. Hegan found out that this man
Holden sometimes took a lot of money down to his house instead o’
leaving it at the office in the safe. We waited for Holden in the
street, and Hegan laid him out. We’d seen this sloop lying off the
wharves and so when we had the money we slid down there and got aboard
her. We were afraid to wait around at the station for a train. We
didn’t want the sloop, mind you. All we wanted was to get away, and we
thought we might make some place up the coast around Baymouth, run the
sloop ashore, and foot it for the railroad. Hegan had the bag of money
when we went aboard, and the first thing he did was to look for some
place where it wouldn’t be found if the cops got us. One of the boards
was so as we could pry it loose at the top and he shoved the bag behind
it. It was pretty rough when we got outside and I was for turning back,
but Hegan wouldn’t agree to that, and we headed up the shore. Things
got pretty bad and I made sure we’d both be drowned, as I didn’t know
much about sailing and Hegan wasn’t a whole lot better at it. The gale
got us off Indian Head and we were nearly swamped. Our bit of sail went
and next thing we knew we were drifting up the river. After a while
she ran on a sand-bank and the waves came right across her deck. We
tried to get hold of the bag, but it had slipped down where we couldn’t
reach it. We were fairly scared by that time and so we left it and
swam ashore, somehow, meaning to go back next morning. But we didn’t,
because that same night the cops nabbed us both for the old burglary.
I got three years and so did Hegan. Soon as I was out I beat it back
here to get the money, but young Jack Holden was running the sloop and
I couldn’t find a chance. Then Hegan showed up and we went after it
together.”
“I see,” said the chief. “That accounts for the yarns about folks
prowling around on the sloop at night.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” declared the prisoner.
“Now, White, it’s no use your denying it. There wasn’t anybody but you
and Hegan who had reason to attack those lads in that cabin.”
White shook his head, however, and would not further commit himself.
“When did you get that tear in your trousers?” the chief asked,
pointing to a very amateurish patch.
“A long time ago,” White said.
“Mended it yourself, didn’t you?”
“Guess I did. Why?”
“Nothing, only I guess I know why you didn’t take it to a tailor.
Wanted to keep it quiet, didn’t you? A little bit of the cloth was
missing, eh?”
“I don’t know,” said White.
“But I do. Jack Holden showed it to me. He found it on a nail where
you’d left it one night. By itself it wasn’t much of a clue, but it
fits in nicely now. Here, Wilson,” the chief added, turning to a
policeman who had accompanied him, “take this man to the station and
lock him up. Now for the other fellow.”
Hegan was still full of fight when brought on deck, but he quieted
down as soon as he saw the game was hopelessly up.
“Well, Hegan,” the chief began, “you soon got into trouble again after
being released, didn’t you? White told us all about it. You’re both
going to be the guests of the Government for some little time. There’s
one thing I want you to tell me, though. Was it you or your pal who
used to sneak down on to the sloop nights while she was lying at the
wharf?”
“If it had been me,” replied Hegan, scornfully, “you bet we wouldn’t
ha’ been in this fix now. I’d have got the money and been off. Whitey’s
afraid of his own shadow.”