TO THE RESCUE
Back in the Racer cottage there was an anxious consultation going on. It
was the afternoon of the second day since Andy and Frank had gone to
Cliff Island, and they had not returned.
“I don’t like it!” exclaimed Mr. Racer, tossing aside the paper he had
been trying to read, and restlessly pacing the floor. “I wish they
hadn’t gone. I wish they were back.”
“Don’t you think they can look after themselves?” asked the mother.
Usually she was the more nervous, but this time it was her husband.
“Oh, I suppose they could, ordinarily,” he answered. “But this is
different.”
“How, Dick?” and there was an anxious note in Mrs. Racer’s voice. She
had just come in from a tennis tournament to find that her husband had
returned from New York earlier than usual. Now she began to realize the
cause. It was on account of the boys.
“Well, there’s a storm coming up, for one thing, and then there’s that
man. I wish Andy and Frank hadn’t started after him.”
“It was to help Paul, dear.”
“I know. They meant all right, but they’re too daring. However, it can’t
be helped. Where’s Paul?”
“He felt so well that he went for a little walk. He said he’d go down
toward the pier and see if he could see or hear anything of the boys.
“Well, I’m glad he’s getting better.” Mr. Racer once more tried to read
the paper, but gave it up.
“You’re nervous,” said his wife, as he tossed it aside.
“Yes, I am. Nothing is worse than sitting still, and waiting—waiting for
something to happen.
“Oh, Dick! I’m sure you don’t want anything to happen!”
“Of course not. But I don’t like this weather.”
Paul came in at that moment. The glow of health was beginning to
reappear in his pale cheeks.
“Well?” asked Mr. Racer quickly.
“They’re not in sight,” answered the lad who did not know who he was.
“And Captain Trent says a bad storm is brewing.”
“That settles it!” exclaimed Mr. Racer. He started up and took down an
old overcoat and hat.
“Where are you going?” asked his wife in alarm.
“I’m going for those boys. I can’t stand it any longer.”
“But how can you get to Cliff Island if a storm is coming up? You have
no boat, and to row—”
“I don’t intend to row. Mr. Lacey, a friend of mine, put in here with
his big motor boat a little while ago. I saw him as I got off the New
York steamer, and he said he might stay here a couple of days. His craft
is at the pier float. I know he’ll take me to Cliff Island, blow or no
blow, and his _Norma_ is big enough to weather quite a sea.”
“Oh, Dick, I’m afraid to have you go!”
“Oh, there’s no danger, but there might be to our boys, and I’m going to
the rescue. Don’t worry. I may be able to get out to the island and back
before dark. They’re probably scouting around, looking for that man, and
he isn’t there at all. They think they’re having a good time, but they
don’t realize what the weather is going to be.”
Mr. Racer went on with his preparations for being out in the storm. Mrs.
Racer, after the first alarm, agreed with him that it was best to go
after the boys.
“Do you think that I—that is—Oh, mayn’t I go?” burst out Paul Gale. “I’d
like to help. Andy and Frank have done so much for me. Can’t I go?”
“I’m afraid you’re not strong enough,” objected Mr. Racer.
“Oh, but I am!” insisted the lad. “I believe it will do me good. But
can’t you ask Dr. Martin?”
They were saved the necessity of calling the physician up on the
telephone for he drove past at that moment and Mr. Racer hailed him. The
case was soon stated.
“I agree with you that it is a good thing to go after Andy and Frank,”
said the medical man. “As for taking Paul along—hum—well, I don’t know.”
“Oh, I’m all right, doctor,” insisted the lad again.
“You certainly have gained much strength in the last few days,” went on
the physician. “If you take care of yourself perhaps it won’t do you any
harm. But don’t exert yourself too much.”
“No,” promised Paul eagerly. Then, as he hurried to his room to get
ready, Dr. Martin said to Mr. Racer in a low voice:
“I’m not so sure but what it won’t be a good thing for him. He lost his
memory in a storm, you know, and if there is a little blow out in the
bay his mind may be restored again. We doctors don’t know as much about
the brain as we’d like to. It can’t do any harm to try it, especially as
you are going in a big, safe boat. Good luck to you.”
Mrs. Racer parted with her husband and Paul rather tearfully. The signs
of the storm increased as the two went down to the pier. Mr. Racer found
his friend there, and Mr. Lacey readily agreed to the use of his boat.
“I’ll pilot you to the island myself,” he said generously, “and I’ll
tell the engineer and crew to make all the speed they can. We’ve got
lots of gasolene, and I guess we can weather almost any blow that’s due
this time of year.”
They were soon speeding away from the pier, and the sharp prow of the
_Norma_ was turned in the direction of Cliff Island. Clouds were rapidly
gathering and there was an occasional muttering of thunder.
Paul Gale kept to the cabin, as the wind had freshened since they
started and there was quite a sea on, that sent the spume and spray of
the salty waves across the deck.
They were longer reaching the island than they counted on, and just
before they sighted it the storm broke in all its fury. But they were
prepared for it, and the _Norma_ plunged gallantly ahead through the
smashing big seas of green water that at times buried her nose out of
sight.
Suddenly there was a slight crash forward and a shiver seemed to go
through the gasolene craft.
“What’s that?” cried Mr. Racer in alarm.
“We hit something,” said Mr. Lacey. “Danforth, just see what it is, will
you?” he asked of the mate, who was in the snug cabin with the owner and
his guests.
But Mr. Racer did not wait. He rushed up on deck. The _Norma_ had been
brought to quarter speed and the silk merchant could see, floating off
to one side, a small wrecked skiff. It seemed familiar to him.
“That’s what we hit, sir,” explained one of the crew. “Cut it right in
two.”
“It’s my boys’ boat!” cried Mr. Racer. “The one they carry on the
_Gull_. I know the shape of it, and I can see the red circle on the
stern. Were they in it when we cut it down?”
“No, sir. I don’t think so, sir,” answered the sailor as he noted the
anguish of Mr. Racer. “I saw it immediately after we struck, and I’m
almost sure no one was in it. I’d have seen them, sir, if there was,
sir.”
“Oh, but perhaps they were in it!” cried Mr. Racer. “Their sailboat may
have foundered, and they might have had to take to the small boat. Oh,
Mr. Lacey. We _must_ pick up my boys!” he added, as the owner came on
deck.
“Of course. Captain Nelson, put back and circle around that boat. Light
the searchlight and play it on the wreck.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
The _Norma_ began the search amid the storm and gathering darkness,
while the father peered over the side in anguished fear.