FOUND
You will remember that Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes landed at Sawyer
Island and made their way to the lower end of Barter Island, where they
failed to find the stolen launch. The point which had caught the
attention of Mike Murphy was several miles distant, on the other side of
Sheepscot Bay and half as far from the landing at Isle of Springs.
While failure attended the efforts of the couple, it now looked as if
good fortune had marked Mike Murphy for its own. He waited at Isle of
Springs until the _Nahanada_ resumed her way to Boothbay Harbor, when he
looked around for some means of getting to the point on Westport which
deeply interested him.
Among the loungers he noticed an elderly man, stoop-shouldered, thin,
without coat or waistcoat, a scraggly tuft of whiskers on his chin,
thumbs thrust behind the lower part of his suspenders in front, and
solely occupied in chewing tobacco and frequently irrigating the
immediately surrounding territory.
"The top of the day to ye!" said Mike, with a military salute. "Will yer
engagements allow ye to take me on a little v'yage?"
The old fellow's stare showed that he did not catch the meaning of the
question.
"Are you axing me to take you out in a boat?" he queried in turn; "for
if you be, I may say that that's 'bout my size. Where do you want to be
tooken?"
Mike pointed across the river.
"You mean Jewett Cove, huh?" said the other.
After a little further talk, Mike found that the place named was a half
mile north of his destination. He explained where he wished to be
landed.
"Sartinly, of course. I kin take you thar, though it's a powerful row;
thar ain't enough breeze to make a sail of any use, and I don't own a
motor boat like some folks round here as is putting on airs. Yas; I'll
take you thar; when do you want to start?"
"As soon as ye can git ready--but howld on! How much do ye mean to
charge for a little row like that?"
"A little row!" repeated the old man scornfully. "Do you want me to
bring you back?"
"Begorrah! I niver thought of that; I haven't made up me mind, and ye
haven't answered my respictful question."
The other chewed vigorously, spat and finally said:
"It's worth twenty-five cents to take you 'cross and fifteen more to
bring you back."
Mike was astonished. Although his funds were running low, his natural
generosity would not be denied.
"I will pay ye half a dollar to row me over and if ye bring me back it
will be another fifty cints--but I'm not certain as to me coming back."
The trip might prove a failure. In fact the more Mike pondered the more
probable seemed such a result. At the wharf a wise precaution occurred
to him.
"Being as there's no saying whin I return, it will be wise for me to
take along a snack of food. So bide ye here till I procure the same."
He hurried to the nearest grocery store where he bought a couple of
sandwiches and was back in a few minutes.
"I should think" grinned the boatman in an attempt to be facetious,
"that the best place to carry them things is inside."
"Ye're right and ye can make up yer mind that's where they will find a
lodging place by and by. I'm riddy."
The old man bent to his oars and headed across the Sheepscot, leaving
the islet of Whittom on the south, and aiming for a point due west of
Isle of Springs. It was, as he had declared, a long and hard row, but
those muscles had been toughened by years of toil and seemed tireless.
The swaying was slow but as steady as clockwork, and Mike sitting in the
stern admired the rower, who paused only once and then for but a moment
in which to wrench off with his yellow teeth a chew of tobacco from the
plug which he carried in his pocket.
The shore in front was covered with a vigorous growth of fir, which, as
is so general in Maine, found root to the very water's edge. The ground
sloped upward, but the height was moderate. Mike had been half inclined
to direct the boatman to row directly into the little bay. This would be
the quickest way to decide whether the _Deerfoot_ was there, but he
deemed it wiser to make a stealthy approach. He wished to descend upon
the thieves without any notice. Besides, if they learned his purpose,
they were likely, as he well knew, to elude him, as they could readily
do.
Standing on the shore, he turned to the old man:
"As I obsarved, I'm not sure whether I'll be coming this way agin. Would
ye mind waiting here for three or four days till the quistion is
settled?"
His face was so serious that the other thought he was in earnest. Mike
hastened to explain:
"Tarry until ye obsarve a motor launch comin' out of the cove; whin ye
see the same, ye may go home; all ye have to mind is to wait and
obsarve for mesilf."
The boatman nodded and Mike departed. He moved along the inlet, which
was a great deal broader and deeper than the one visited by Alvin and
Chester later on the same day. He had to thread his way for two or three
hundred yards through the woods where there was no path, before turning
the bend which until then hid the boat from sight. He was still
advancing, all the time in sight of the sweep of water, when he stopped
with the sudden exclamation:
"Woorah, now! but doesn't that beat all creation!"
Good cause indeed had he for excitement, for he saw the stolen
_Deerfoot_ not more than fifty feet away. It was his good fortune to
find it with less than a tenth of the labor and pains vainly taken by
his friends.
He stood for some minutes studying the beautiful model, whose name he
read in artistic letters on the bow. The picture was one to delight, and
it expresses only a small part of his emotions to say that he was
delighted beyond measure.
No person was to be seen on board, and he cautiously pushed on until he
came to the margin of the water. The boat was moored by a line looped
about the small trunk of a tree, that seemed to be leaning out from the
bank as if bending its head for that purpose, and by the anchor line
made fast to the bow. The craft was as motionless and silent as a tomb.
Quickly succeeding the thrill of pleasure was that of hot rage against
those who had stolen the boat. He was more eager to meet them than to
take possession of the property. But if on board they would be in sight,
for though it was possible for two or three persons to find cramped
quarters for sleep, they would not avail themselves of such unless
driven by necessity.
"They have gone away fur a bit," was the conclusion of Mike, who the
next minute stepped lightly aboard.
"It strikes me that this isn't the best place to linger, as Tim Hurley
said whin the lion jumped out of the cage after him. It isn't mesilf
that has kept an eye on Captain Alvin fur the past few days without
larning how to handle a motor boat."
Whoever had withdrawn the switch plug had left it lying on the seat used
by the steersman. Mike thrust it in place, and going down into the
engine compartment gave a powerful swing to the heavy fly-wheel.
Instantly the engine responded in the way with which he had become
familiar. He seated himself, grasped the steering wheel and having
pushed the control lever forward waited for the beautiful craft to shoot
forward. But though the screw revolved furiously the boat did not
advance a foot.
"That's mighty qu'ar," he muttered, staring about him. "What's hendering
the cratur?"
Still puzzled and with some misgiving, he pulled over the reversing
lever. Instantly the boat drew back, but only for a pace or two when it
halted again, with the prow swinging gently to one side. Then the lever
was moved forward and on the instant the craft made a dive, only to
fetch up so abruptly that Mike came nigh pitching from his seat.
He rose and anxiously peered around. The explanation suddenly broke upon
him.
"Arrah, I might have knowed I'd forgot something, as Dennis Tiernan
remarked whin he landed in Ameriky and found he had lift his wife behind
in Ireland."
Shutting off the power, Mike sprang ashore, uncoiled the rope from the
trunk and tossed it aboard. He sprang after it and after taking in the
anchor, set the screw revolving again.
There was no trouble now. The _Deerfoot_ curved out into the bay, and
sped forward with arrowy swiftness. Feeling himself master of the
situation, Mike's heart rose with blissful anticipation.
"It's the aisiest thing in the world to run a motor boat like the
_Deerfut_. All ye have to do is to turn on the power and kaap things
right. Phwat the dickens is _that_?"
A stone weighing more than a pound whizzed in front of his face, missing
his pug nose by a half inch, and splashed into the bay beyond. He
whirled his head around to learn the meaning and instantly learned it.
Two well-dressed young men were standing on the shore at the spot where
the boat had been moored. One of them had hurled the missile which
missed Mike so narrowly, and the other was in the act of letting fly
with the other. Had not Mike ducked he would have caught it fair and
square.
"Bring that boat back, you thief, and take a pounding!" shouted one as
he stooped to find another stone.
"Begorrah, and that's what I'll do mighty quick!" called back Mike,
shifting the wheel so that the boat began a wide sweeping curve that
would speedily bring her to land again. "If ye'll wait there foive
minutes ye may enj'y the most hivenly shindy of yer lives."
How he yearned to get within reach of the miscreants, who stopped their
bombardment as if as eager as he for the encounter!
"Have patience, ye spalpeens, and I'll accommodate ye!" called back
Mike, heading straight for the pair.