A FIRE ON BOARD
Surprise at the bold claim of their rivals held the three boys almost
spellbound for a moment. The possibility that someone should seek to get
possession of the whale they had brought ashore after such labor, and
almost as soon as they landed, had never occurred to them. Yet the
fishermen seemed determined, for one of them began casting off Bob’s
anchor line, and several more of the burly chaps, in their long rubber
boots, leaped overboard from the boat, and waded ashore.
“What had we better do?” asked Andy of his brother. “Are you going to
let them take our whale?”
“Not much!” exclaimed Frank, with a determined tightening of his lips.
“I’m going to fight every inch. They shan’t take it away.”
“Let’s appeal to the crowd,” suggested Andy. “Tell ’em just how we found
the whale, and they won’t let these men take it away from us.”
Frank looked doubtful as to the wisdom of that course. Meanwhile the men
were busily preparing to tow the whale away out to sea in their powerful
motor boat.
“If my father was only here,” began Bob, “he would know what to do, and
what our rights were. There are certain laws about whales and things
found at sea, and he’d make these fellows skip out if they were in the
wrong.”
“Of course they’re in the wrong!” cried Andy. “Didn’t we see the whale
first, and didn’t we tow it home?”
“But they say they harpooned it,” said Bob.
“Yes, and there was only one iron in it, Andy, when it broke your boat,”
added Frank. “Now there are two harpoons in the back. One might be
theirs. I’m going to notify Justice Fanchard and see what he says.”
“Lively now, men!” called Bill, as Frank started off.
There was another movement on the outskirts of the throng, and someone
pushed his way in.
“It’s dad!” cried Bob. “Hey, dad!” he shouted. “These men are going to
take our whale! We just towed it in, Frank and Andy Racer and me! Can
these men take it?”
“Of course we can, kid!” cried one of the fishermen. “Get out of the
way, if you don’t want to be knocked down.”
“Oh, it’s you, is it, Jack Kett!” exclaimed Captain Trent. “And Bill
Lowden and his crowd. Well, you fellows would take anything, whether it
was yours or not. Now jest hold on a bit. Luff up and let’s see where
we’re at. Maybe you’re on the wrong course and need new clearance
papers. Avast there, and let me know the particulars.”
“There ain’t any particulars except that we harpooned this whale, and
it’s ours,” growled Bill Lowden. “You needn’t be putting your oar in,
Cap’n Trent. We know our rights. There’s our iron, and it’s got the name
of our boat branded in it—the _Scud_—you can see if you light a match,”
for it was now dark.
“Hum! When did you strike it?” asked the captain, amid a silence, for,
as an old whaling master and one of the most influential residents of
Harbor View, the captain was universally respected.
“We were going along just outside the Shark’s Teeth reef day ’fore
yesterday,” spoke Jack Kett, “when our lookout spied the whale. We keep
a couple of irons aboard for sharks, dogfish and the like, and it didn’t
take long to sink one in this critter. Then he sounded and we couldn’t
pick him up again. We’ve been looking for him ever since, and to-day we
thought we saw someone in a motor boat towing our whale away. I
explained how we got on the wrong course,” and he detailed what is
already known to my readers.
“Then we found the whale here,” went on Jack Kett, “and we’re going to
have it.”
“Hum,” mused the captain. “It looks as if they had the right of it,
boys,” he said in a low voice, to his son and the latter’s chums.
“Ask them if the whale wasn’t about dead when they harpooned it, and if
it didn’t already have an iron in it?” suggested Frank.
“Another iron; eh? That’s a different story. Somebody bring a lantern,”
called the captain quickly.
One was procured, and the crowd made way while the aged whaleman
approached the dead beast.
“Here, you can see our iron,” said Bill Lowden eagerly. “There it is, as
plain as day, with our boat’s name burned in the handle.”
“Hum, that’s right,” admitted Captain Trent, as he noted the harpoon.
“But what about this?” he asked quickly, pointing to a second one, lower
down, and in such a position that it could not be readily seen. “Is that
yours too?” and Captain Trent held the lantern so that the gleam shone
on the other implement.
“What’s that? Another harpoon?” cried Kett. “Did we use two, boys?” and
he turned to the group of his men.
“No, only one,” somebody answered.
“This has a brand on it too,” went on Bob’s father. He held the lantern
nearer. “The _Flying Fish_” he read as he saw the burned letters. “Guess
that was in some time before your iron, Lowden, for it’s pretty well
worn by sea water. There’s a prior claim to this whale, and as long as
no one is here from the _Flying Fish_ this prize belongs to the boys
that towed it in. If you don’t agree with that jest say so, an’ we’ll go
to law about it. But I know my rights, and these boys will get theirs.”
“That’s right!” cried several in the crowd.
“The whale belongs to the boys.”
Jack Kett and Bill Lowden looked at each other. This was something for
which they had not bargained. There was a murmur among their men.
“We—we didn’t know the whale had been struck before,” admitted Bill.
“That’s right,” chimed in his partner. “We only want what’s fair,” he
went on, in more conciliatory tone than at first.
“That’s the way to talk,” commented Captain Trent. “I admit you have
some claim on the whale, for your iron helped to kill it. The law gives
you a tenth part, after other parties have landed the prize, and I’ll
see that you get it. Now if it’s settled you fellows can go, and I’ll
notify you when the money’s ready.”
“All right,” assented Bill, after a conference with his partner and men.
“I guess it’s the best we can get out of it. But it’s hard to lose a
prize when you think you’re got it. I’m not blaming you boys,” he added
quickly, “for I guess you had a hard pull with it. Come on, men, we’ll
leave our case with Captain Trent.”
It was an unexpected turn of affairs, and the boys were glad the contest
had ended in their favor. They were congratulated on all sides, and
jokingly asked what they were going to do with the money, which was
likely to be quite a large sum.
“We’re going to buy a whaling vessel, make Mr. Trent captain, and go
into the business,” said Andy with a laugh. He looked around for his
brother, and saw Frank talking to Kett.
“I heard you say something about seeing a boat towing something you
thought was the whale, but which turned out to be a wrecked motor boat,”
began the elder Racer lad. “What sort of a boat was the wrecked one?”
“Well, it was pretty big, with a hood up forward, and it looked as if it
had been in a fire. It was all blacked.”
“A fire!” cried Frank eagerly, as the memory of the boat from which Paul
Gale had been rescued came to him. “Are you sure of this?”
“Certain. We were right close to ’em. That’s what made us lose so much
time. If we’d taken after you boys in the first place we might have
found the whale ourselves.”
“Bob Trent sighted the whale before he came for us,” explained Frank,
“so he’d have first claim on it anyhow. But which way was the motor boat
going?”
“Along toward Seabright. Then it got hazy and we lost sight of it.”
“Did you notice whether there was a tall, dark man aboard?” asked Frank
eagerly.
“Yes, there was such a chap,” broke in Bill Lowden. “And he seemed
mighty anxious about the wrecked boat in tow. Why, do you know him?”
“I don’t know—I’ve met him,” said Frank, as he quickly turned to join
his brother. Then he whispered to Andy: “Come away, I’ve got on the
track of the mysterious man and the wrecked motor boat. I want to talk
to you.”
Wonderingly, Andy followed. There was no need to stay and guard the
whale, as Kett and his crowd were preparing to leave. Soon Andy had been
told all that Frank had learned.
“What are you going to do?” asked the younger brother.
“We’ll go to Seabright the first thing in the morning. Maybe we can find
the man there. I believe we’re on the right track. Let’s go and tell
Paul.”
There was no little excitement in the Racer home when Andy and Frank
arrived with their tale of the sea, the whale, and the quarrel about it.
So interested were Mr. and Mrs. Racer that they did not chide their sons
for their partial disobedience of orders. As for Paul, he leaned forward
eagerly in the easy chair, listening to the tale of the brothers.
“Oh! If I would only get strong enough to go with you!” he exclaimed
regretfully.
“Don’t worry, you will be strong soon,” said Mrs. Racer kindly.
“It was rather mean of us to go away and leave you all alone, momsey,”
spoke Frank. “And Paul, too. But when Bob called us we just couldn’t
resist.”
“I’ll forgive you,” said the mother. “I won my golf match after all, and
perhaps if you had followed me over the links I might not have done so.”
“And I didn’t mind being left alone,” added Paul. “I’m so glad you got
the whale.”
“And we may get your motor boat, and find out who that strange man is,”
said Frank.
“Now go slowly,” advised Mr. Racer. “I don’t want you boys getting into
trouble and danger. I think I had better attend to this matter myself,
only I can’t very well stay away from the office to-morrow.”
“Oh, we can do the work all right,” declared Frank. “We’ll go in our
sailboat, it won’t take us long. Perhaps Paul will be strong enough to
come along.”
“I wish I was,” and the invalid shook his head. “But somehow I don’t
feel so well to-night.”
“Then we must have Dr. Martin look at you,” decided Mr. Racer, and, in
spite of Paul’s protests the physician was summoned by telephone.
“It is nothing,” he said after examining Paul. “He exerted himself a
little too much to-day. He must be quiet for a couple of weeks yet and
he’ll be all right”
“Then that means no trip for you to-morrow,” said Mrs. Racer kindly.
“Never mind, I’ll amuse you while the boys are away pretending they are
detectives,” and she smiled at Paul.
It was about nine o’clock when Frank happened to remember that he had
left aboard their sloop _Gull_ a book of adventures in which he was much
interested.
“I’m going down and get it,” he announced. “I won’t be long.”
“I’ll go with you,” offered Andy, and the two started off toward the
mooring place, which was near the big public pier. The boys kept a light
skiff tied to the float and in this way they used to row out to the
sailboat.
As they approached the pier they heard confused shouts and cries coming
from the direction of the bay.
“Something’s going on!” cried Frank, breaking into a run.
“Yes. Sounds like someone in trouble,” added Andy as he followed.
Once more came the cry, and this time the brothers could make it out:
“Fire! Fire! Fire!”
They turned a corner of the street that led straight out on the long
pier, and there caught sight of a cloud of smoke in the moonlight, and
saw dancing flames near the surface of the water. Then Frank uttered a
cry of alarm:
“It’s our boat—the _Gull_—she’s on fire!” he yelled.