IN LUCK AT LAST
Instead of moving toward the dinghy, the boys sprang to the top of the
trunk cabin and dashed forward toward the wheel.
With an oath Jamison tried to clamber back to the deck of the motor
boat, but the dinghy was just then performing a bit of nautical
gymnastics at the bottom of a trough and he did not succeed in reaching
the desired footing. He fell back into the bottom of the boat, cursing
the two rowers because they had not assisted him.
As Frank and Tommy sprang forward over the cabin the man at the wheel
released his hold and reached for a pistol. The boat swung around and
would have been capsized only that Frank seized the wheel and brought
her head to the waves again.
The wheelsman struck a savage blow at the boy as he threw the wheel
around, and was in turn the object of attack from Tommy. The two went to
the deck together and came near being thrown into the sea.
When the short battle ended the wheelsman lay on the deck unconscious,
his head rolling from side to side as the boat tossed about on the
waves. In the fall his head had struck the rail.
Seeing that Jamison and the rowers were still trying to board the motor
boat, Sam rushed to the after deck and threatened them with his
revolver. In a moment Jamison presented a thirty-eight at the boy's
head.
"This is piracy!" he shouted. "Surrender, or I'll blow your head off!
This is piracy, I tell you!"
The only reply to the man's threat was the increased clatter of the
motors. Tommy had turned on full power, and Frank was heading the craft
for the mouth of Copper river. As she drew away from the dinghy, several
harmless shots were fired.
"That was a close shave!" Tommy declared as the three boys gathered on
the forward deck. "If Jamison hadn't been a fool, we couldn't have done
it! Can you find your way to Cordova, Frank?" he added.
"Sure I can!" was the reply, "but I take it that we don't want to go
there just now."
"And why not?" asked Tommy is surprise.
"Because this is piracy, all right!" exclaimed the boy. "Old Jamison was
right, and he'll have all the officers along the coast after us as soon
as he gets to land. We're in bad with the cops now."
"But Jamison won't be able to get to land tonight!" suggested Sam.
"Indeed he won't!" agreed Frank. "He'll have to pull in toward the
island and lie there on his oars until daylight."
"Can't he land?" asked Tommy.
"I don't think he can land in the dark!" was the reply.
"Why can't we get to Cordova and get back here with the surgeon before
he can communicate with the officers?" asked Tommy. "We can't afford to
go into hiding just now. We've got to get the doctor up to the cabin,
and we've got to find out what that code message contained."
"How far is it from here to Cordova?" asked Frank.
"It must be about thirty-five or forty miles," replied Sam. "If the waves
wouldn't keep us traveling up and down all the time, we ought to make it
in about three hours."
"Jamison was trying to make us believe he was doing a fine thing if he
took us to Cordova and back in ten or twelve hours!" said Tommy.
"I don't think he intended to take us to Cordova at all!" insisted Sam.
"Well," Tommy argued, "there's no way he can stop us until we get to
Cordova, and he can't stop us then unless he reaches the coast or gains
the wireless station before we leave the town. Once out on the gulf
again, with the surgeon on board, we'll reach Katalla in spite of
Jamison, and start the doctor toward the cabin."
"Then here goes for the town!" cried Frank, turning on an extra bit of
power and sending the boat through the waves like a meteor.
It was rough riding, but the boys were fairly good seamen and stood the
shaking up well.
About midnight the wheelsman began showing signs of consciousness. He
sat up on the swaying deck and motioned for water.
"Tip him overboard!" advised Sam.
"Aw, give him a drink," argued Tommy. "If you'd had had as much red
liquor during the last few hours as he's had, you'd want to connect with
the water cooler, I guess! Give the man a show!"
"Where are you taking the motor boat?" asked the wheelsman.
"Cordova."
"Is that right about your wanting a surgeon?"
"That is right!" replied Tommy.
"Where is he wanted?" asked the wheelsman, who had given the name of
Boswell. "Why didn't you bring the sick boy out with you?"
"Because we thought it better to take the surgeon to him!" replied
Tommy. "The boy really wasn't able to be moved!"
"Fever?" asked Boswell.
Tommy hesitated a moment before replying. He was in doubt as to just how
much he ought to tell Boswell. The fellow seemed to be friendly enough,
and might be useful in case the lads were arrested for piracy, as, if he
saw fit, he could testify that Jamison was not carrying out his
agreement with them, but, instead, was planning to maroon them on a
barren island in the gulf. Owing to these considerations it seemed best
to keep on good terms with the fellow, and yet Tommy did not care to
describe in full what had taken place at the cabin.
"No, the boy isn't sick of fever," Tommy finally answered. "He received
a wound on the head and lies unconscious."
Both boys thought they saw Boswell give a quick start, but in a moment
his face was as impassive as ever.
"Do you know what Jamison was up to?" asked Sam after a short pause.
Boswell looked keenly at the boy before answering.
"I only know what he told me!" he replied.
"What did he tell you?"
"He said he had a joke on you boys; that he was charging you three
hundred dollars for a trip to Cordova, and that he meant to leave you on
the first little island in the gulf that he came to."
"Did he tell you why he was going to do that?" asked Tommy.
Again Boswell looked keenly at his questioner.
"I guess I'd better not answer that question," he said finally.
"I wish you would answer it," Tommy urged. "I ought to know just what
motive the fellow has for throwing obstacles in my way.
"He thinks it's funny!" answered Boswell.
"That isn't the correct answer," Tommy insisted. "He has some motive for
what he is trying to do. I'd like to know what that motive is."
"You can't find out from me!" declared Boswell.
"You must be a chum of his!" sneered Sam.
"I hate the ground he walks on!" replied Boswell. "I wouldn't have hired
out to him at all if I hadn't been drunk. But I'm not going to repeat to
any one what he told me in confidence!"
"We shall have to put you off some distance this side of Cordova," Tommy
suggested, "because if we don't you're likely to make us trouble by
reporting the case of alleged piracy as soon as we land."
"You needn't trouble yourself about my reporting anything," Boswell
answered. "I'm not mixing with Jamison's affairs! If you boys are
arrested for piracy, I'll tell all I know about it, and that won't do
you any harm."
Dawn came slowly that morning, for heavy clouds were gathering in the
sky. The short Arctic night came to an end at last, however, and in the
murky distance the boys saw the long coast line. Shortly after three
o'clock they passed the wireless station and landed, not without some
difficulty at Cordova.
They found the town asleep, of course, but after a time an early riser
directed them to the residence of a surgeon. They arranged with him to
meet them later in the day and at once set out for the wireless station.
It was two hours before they saw the operator coming to his post of
duty.
He remembered Frank, and willingly promised to at once open
communication with Seattle and take up the work of securing a duplicate
of the code message. He explained that a copy had been kept, but that it
had been destroyed by a careless janitor, who had said that he could
make nothing at all of the jumble of words and letters!
As soon as Seattle answered the Cordova call, a duplicate of the code
telegram was asked for, and Seattle undertook to place the request on
the wire and cause it to be rushed through to Chicago.
"We ought to receive the answer some time this afternoon," the operator
said as the boys started away.