RACING BACK TO HIS FATHER
In Frank’s mind there was no idea of theft. Just as he asked Lanky
Wallace to do, he now did.
When these two men had calmly and slowly sauntered away from the
trees, Frank stole silently to the boat and climbed aboard.
Here to his hand was a five-gallon can of gasoline waiting for proper
use. And he knew the best use to which it could be put! For a moment
he hesitated. Then, digging deep into one pocket he pulled out a
pencil and a scrap of paper, writing thereon the name and address of
a gasoline man in Columbia and saying that he had taken a five-gallon
can of gasoline, to be charged to F. A. He was not going to give his
own name to these unknown ones.
In what might have been another minute he was on the wharf with the
can and had made his way stumblingly through the little grove of
trees, over the gnarled knees and rough spots of the ground, breaking
out again on the wharf at the point where the planks had been removed
or had rotted away.
Just then came a shrill whistle! Through the silent night-atmosphere
it had a ghostly sound, but he knew what it meant—Lanky Wallace had
found a store of gas!
Frank knew also that both of them, chums, were making their separate
ways back to the boat, each with the needed fuel.
There was on Frank Allen’s face a smile as he stooped once again and
grabbed up the can which he had filched from the thieves who had
broken into the Parsons’ house.
Not resting a single time, he made his way back to the _Rocket_,
moving swiftly, surely, as he recalled every step of the way along
the wharf.
Back at the _Rocket_ he found Paul Bird and Ralph West, each on the
_qui vive_, for they had heard the whistle of one of the boys, not
being sure which it was, but knowing that a can of gasoline had been
found or a cache of some kind was there for their taking.
These two boys, loyal to the last ditch, had conversed in low tones
over the plight in which they found themselves, each anxious to know
what the two leaders were doing, but knowing that if help of any kind
were to be found on that part of the island, one of these two boys
would find it.
“Got a can of gas!” he muttered, an optimistic tone in his voice as
Frank told the news to the waiting boys.
“Did you whistle?” asked Paul.
“No. That must have been Lanky. He’ll be along in a minute with
another,” replied Frank.
At that moment out of the gloom came the long, lean body of the lad,
lugging at his side a can of gas, the same size as Frank’s!
When Frank saw Lanky and Lanky saw Frank they each fell to chuckling.
But Frank had the better of it.
They hurried in their efforts and poured both cans into the gas tank
aboard the _Rocket_—Lanky’s much-rehearsed duty of pushing off from
land or wharf then became necessary, and the _Rocket_ moved out from
the landing at the island.
But all four of the lads heard the sudden explosions of a motor from
the distance, along the wharf, and they knew that a boat at the
farther end of the landing-wharf was moving quickly out into the
stream of the Harrapin.
Frank alone knew that a race was on between the two craft. One of
them had to win!
“What is that boat?” asked Paul Bird.
“Those are the fellows who loaned me one of the cans of gasoline,
only they don’t know yet that they loaned it to me,” laughed Frank
Allen grimly.
“How about fixing our searchlight before we get going?” asked Lanky.
“We’ll need it to make any speed.”
“Let’s save every minute we can, Lanky,” replied Frank. “You work on
the searchlight and I’ll get her out and start upstream as fast as we
can without the light.”
Suiting the action to the word, Frank turned the _Rocket_ as he
backed away from the landing, and soon was headed up the Harrapin.
It was slow work, while Lanky and Paul worked on the connections at
the light.
As yet Frank had had no time to tell the other boys what he had
overheard, and reserved the telling of it now until they had finished
the work which was necessary to be done. Frank realized as he swung
the _Rocket_ into the stream that he would have to use the light
before he could go very fast. But, at any rate, they were saving a
little time.
The _Rocket_ had gone about a mile up the river when Lanky found the
connection which was loose, and, having made it tight, switched on
the search.
Immediately Frank gave the _Rocket_ the full speed of the engine. The
fast little craft almost moved out from under the boys as it leaped
forward under the suddenly applied power, the propeller churning up
the water furiously.
Ahead of them, its beams darting here and there, jumping about the
river to pick up anything which might do them injury or which might
hold them back, the searchlight played under the guiding hand of
Lanky Wallace.
“Fellows,” said Frank, “if you’ll stand close so that I can keep my
eyes on the river, I’ll tell you something that I just learned.”
Instantly the three boys were alert with interest.
“That boat that just went out of the island ahead of us is on the way
to Jed Marmette’s place to get that stuff up there. It’s going up
to-night and they are going to make their getaway.”
Nothing that Frank might have said could have brought to all three of
the boys a greater shock of surprise than this.
They started to ask questions, but he stopped them:
“Wait a minute. Don’t be so fast with the questions. I’ll tell you
all about it.”
Whereupon he recited the proceedings in the little grove of giant
trees, the three boys keen to hear each word, and not a question from
any of them to interrupt him.
“Now, they’ve pulled out. We’ve got to beat it back just as fast as
possible to get this medicine to dad, and, if the doctor says I may
leave, I’m going to see the police and get up there as quickly as we
can.”
“But suppose—” started Lanky.
“I’ve thought about that, too,” answered Frank, knowing what Lanky
had intended when he hesitated. “In case dad is not doing so well,
I’m going to ask you three fellows to go to the police, tell them the
story, tell them everything I saw as well as what you saw; and then
take them up on the _Rocket_ yourselves. Lanky knows exactly where
the place is, and you’ll have to depend on Lanky’s ability to run the
_Rocket_.”
“But, Frank,” asked Paul Bird, “what boat was that at the island—the
one that’s ahead of us?”
“The one from which I got the gasoline,” Frank answered, though his
tone was a noncommittal one.
“Don’t you know what the boat’s name is?” Paul continued.
“It bore a mighty strong resemblance to the _Speedaway_,” came the
low-spoken words from Frank.
“The _Speedaway_!” All three of the boys muttered the word at the
same time.
“I said it very much resembled the _Speedaway_. I could not make out
the name, and I didn’t stop to look closely at it. I was in a hurry
to get the gasoline and I was in a hurry to get away before they
returned.”
“But,” urged Paul, “that is Fred Cunningham’s boat, and you did not
say you saw him!”
“I didn’t,” Frank held back from making any accusation or from
saying anything which might be interpreted as an accusation. “There
were only two men there when I got close, though I know there were
three men when I first saw them, and I also know they were waiting
for some one to join them. He must have come along just as I
succeeded in getting away.”
“Wonder how well filled their gas tank is,” muttered Lanky. “If they
had a full tank they could get quite a distance. The extra gas would
have given them the additional chance.”
All stood in silence while Frank held the wheel of the _Rocket_
and sent the sturdy little craft up the Harrapin at a speed that
might have been a little less than the speed they had when going
downstream, but they did not notice any difference.
Frank’s mind was on the question of whether there was any possibility
of their catching the boat ahead of them, perhaps of passing it. Yet,
thought he, the chance was very remote, inasmuch as they had gotten
away a full three minutes before the _Rocket_. Not for a moment did
he consider the idea that the _Speedaway_, if that were the boat,
could outdistance the _Rocket_. Frank Allen considered that the men
ahead of him were merely the same distance ahead as at the start.
“I wonder if that is the boat which crossed our path and caused Paul
to go over,” remarked Ralph.
“If it is, I want to catch the fellows that are in it and duck all of
them,” Paul replied.
Frank paid no heed to the two boys who now started bantering each
other, all crouching low to the deck of the boat as it sped along.
“Lanky,” spoke up Frank after everything had grown quiet, “when we
get to Columbia I’ll run up to the hospital, and I wish you’d get to
police headquarters as quickly as you can, tell them the story of
those fellows—where they are going and what we saw to-day. Tell them
that the _Rocket_ will see them through. And I wish Paul and Ralph
would find some gasoline and fill up the tank.”
The boys agreed at once to this program.
“I have an idea we’re going to have a race this night after those
fellows, and we’ll need plenty of gas aboard. So, be sure about it.
We’re getting near town now, and I must get this package up to the
hospital post haste,” Frank went on.
As they neared the landing place at Columbia Frank cut off the
engine, relying on its momentum to send the _Rocket_ to the
boat-house, so that he could listen for the exhaust of the boat ahead
of them.
“That’s it!” cried Lanky, as all the boys plainly heard the steady
put-put of an exhaust ahead of them up the river.
“We’ve come along behind them,” Frank said quietly. “The _Rocket_
must be a pretty speedy boat, after all.”
They warped the craft into the landing place, did not attempt to
enter the boat-house, but, instead, tied at the outside. The instant
they touched Frank was on the wharf and started on a dead run for
the hospital. He had no idea of the time of night or early morning,
whichever it might be.
The three boys now conferred in low tones as to the duties of each,
and Lanky started away for police headquarters, all unmindful of the
hour of night.
Frank dashed up the steps of the hospital, and there at the head of
the steps leading to the second floor stood the doctor. Behind the
medical man were Mrs. Allen and Frank’s sister Helen, who had reached
Columbia an hour before.
“Is he all right?” gasped Frank.
“All right, Frank. We need this stimulant badly, but we’ve held him
steady while you were gone. You made a quick trip.”
“I thought we would never get back here! We had trouble.”
The doctor took the package and hurried into the room where his
patient lay. Frank greeted his mother and sister with a kiss and
followed close behind.
The doctor made up his mixture for the hypodermic injection, and
he and the nurse administered it to Mr. Allen, who lay on the cot
breathing slowly, his mouth wide open as if he were trying hard to
get as much air as possible. Frank’s heart went out to his father
and suffered with him and for him. Would the fight be won? Would his
father survive? Had the race been a winning one?
All was silent as they stood by, the doctor intently watching the
patient with the practiced eyes of the man who has stood with many
close to the shadow and who has seen the battle for life won and lost
many times.
It seemed they stood there looking down on the man for an
interminable period, when, with a smile on his kindly face, the
doctor turned and laid a hand on Frank’s shoulder and grasped Mrs.
Allen’s hand.
“He’s winning.” He spoke very quietly.
Tears came to Frank’s eyes, tears of sheer joy. It had been worth the
while, that race to Coville! He had helped bring his father back! The
doctor listened with his stethoscope, lay it down on the small table
at the head of the cot, and again there appeared that sweet, kindly
smile.
“You must go now, boy, and get a rest. Come back in the morning, and
I’m sure we’ll find him considerably better. He’s safe now, thanks to
our getting that stimulant in time,” the doctor spoke in low tones.
“Run along now and get a rest.”
“Yes, go home by all means, and get a good sleep,” said Mrs. Allen.
“You’ll need it—after such a run on the river,” added Helen. Then
she added impulsively: “Oh, Frank, it was grand of you to get that
medicine! I’m so proud of you!”
Frank walked slowly out of the room into the hall and down the long
flight of steps to the first floor.
How much better the whole world seemed! How much lighter the load
on his shoulders. The doctor said his father would be better in the
morning and his mother was here to lift part of the burden from his
shoulders.
Reaching the front door, walking out into the night, Frank saw three
people running down Main Street, and, just behind, came two more.
As he darted under a street light Frank recognized the lean form of
Lanky Wallace in the lead.
He had the police! They were on their way to the _Rocket_! Down the
steps he bounded, over the fence of the hospital yard, and before
they reached the boat-landing, Frank had caught up with them. Another
race was on!