When the four chums went back into the cabin their faces were a little
grave. It was not only Will who was wondering now what the nature of the
difference between old Uncle Felix and this strange Marcus Stackpole
could be, that made the owner of the houseboat seem to detest the other
so much, and he on his part appear so much in earnest to get aboard the
_Pot Luck_.
"Locked the door again; did you, Frank?" Jerry asked, as they sat down
for a little talk in the cabin, with the lantern placed on the table.
"You can make up your mind he did," replied Will; "and I tried it in the
bargain, to make sure it was fast. You see, we don't know what sort of a
fellow this Stackpole might turn out to be. Uncle is afraid of him
somehow. And it seems to me he must have something on board the old boat
that this Marcus, somehow, wants pretty bad, if he's willing to take
such chances to get it."
"There you are!" exclaimed Jerry, quickly; "the more you think about it,
the stronger you'll believe my idea is, that there must be some sort of
a treasure hid about here, and this Marcus wants to get his hands on the
same. Laugh at me again, now, will you, when I'm sounding the walls, and
peeking into corners? I'm going to keep it up till I find out I'm on the
wrong tack; then I'll go about."
But all of them soon grew sleepy again, and Frank suggested that they
turn in.
"I don't believe he'll come back to-night, anyhow," he remarked, as he
began to get himself ready for bed again. "That sudden shot so close to
his ears must have frightened Marcus some. Perhaps he even thought I was
trying to fill him full of Number Sevens at short range."
"Oh! wouldn't I have liked to see him skipping up the bank, though,"
sighed Will, who seemed to miss so many splendid views, from one cause
or another.
"Well, maybe another time you'll get that chance," said Jerry,
consolingly, as he got into his upper berth; having placed his repeating
shotgun on a couple of large nails which seemed to have been driven into
the wall conveniently near, as if for this very purpose.
Presently Frank "doused the glim," by blowing out the lantern; and once
more darkness and silence reigned in the cabin of the _Pot Luck_.
Nor was there any further disturbance that night. With the coming of
daylight through the small windows facing the east Frank was astir; and,
hearing him moving, first one, and then another of his chums began to
yawn and stretch.
"Everything all right, Frank?" asked Will, crawling from his bunk.
"Seems like it," was the reply.
"What do we want to do first?" asked Bluff, sliding down from above.
"Well, for my part, I feel like taking a morning dip," Frank answered.
"That sounds good to me, too!" called out Jerry, poking his head out
after the manner of a cautious old tortoise.
Inside of ten minutes the whole four were splashing in the river close
to the bank. The water was cool and invigorating, and, being lusty boys,
they certainly seemed to enjoy it.
Frank saw to it that no one stayed in too long; and after getting aboard
they rubbed down with towels brought for this very purpose. Then every
one declared himself as hungry as a bear, and preparations for breakfast
were in order.
As Jerry had constituted himself chief cook for the trip, to be relieved
at intervals by one of the others, Bluff volunteered to lay in a supply
of firewood for the little stove.
"Give me the axe, and I'll go ashore to cut up a log," he remarked.
Frank was secretly amused to see that the fire-eater also carried his
gun ashore with him. Evidently he had a little suspicion that the
bothersome man might be still hovering around the vicinity, and would
have to be "shooed off" by a threatening display of hardware, in the
shape of a gun that could shoot six times without being removed from the
shoulder.
Presently the steady strokes of the axe told that Bluff was exercising
his muscles to good advantage, and that they could count on at least two
days' supply of firewood as a result of his labors.
The breakfast was "prime," everybody admitted; and Jerry was advised to
keep a line or two out for stray catfish every time they tied up for a
stop. There were buffalo fish to be caught, Mr. Whittaker had assured
them, that, while a little coarse, would be found good eating; and all
of them happened to be rather fond of fish as a diet, which was a good
thing, under the circumstances.
"It isn't such a hard job to get a start on the old boat, anyhow,"
remarked Jerry, as with poles they pushed away from the bank, until the
slow current near the shore began to catch them in its grip, and they
found the _Pot Luck_ moving.
Once they had attained the proper distance from shore, really there was
little to do all day long, but keep an eye on things, and make sure the
boat did not turn sideways to the stream.
By keeping away from the channel they avoided all danger from such boats
as passed up or down the river.
During the morning Will, who had been looking steadily back over the
course they had come, called the attention of the others to something
which he seemed to think merited their notice.
"That dinky little power-boat yonder keeps hovering just so far behind
us," he said, uneasily.
"Well, the fellows aboard have a right to go and come just as they
please," Frank remarked, though he gave the object in question a long
look, and then went into the cabin for the field glasses.
"Sometimes he comes as close as he is now," Will went on to say; "and
then he seems to stop still, till you can hardly see him in the dim
distance, when he'll start up again. I think sometimes they're fishing,
and anchor in favorite places. Then again I seem to think that perhaps
he may be aboard."
"By that you mean our visitor of last night, Marcus Stackpole, I
reckon?" Jerry asked.
"What do you see, Frank; any fellow without his head-covering on?" Bluff
inquired, at the same time.
"There seem to be several men aboard, but I don't see them fishing,"
Frank replied. "The fact is, one of them just pointed down the river;
but whether he was calling the attention of the others to this boat, or
something else, I can't say."
He took another look through the field glasses, and immediately laughed.
"Well, one of them has something in his hands now that looks like the
glasses I'm handling," he said. "Yes, and there he goes, leveling it at
us!"
"That settles it!" exclaimed Jerry. "They're interested in this boat,
and, ten to one, the fellow we had aboard last night came from that same
launch. Well, if that doesn't knock the high persimmon down, though! We
thought this M. S. was a common, every-day tramp; and here it turns out
that he owns a private power yacht, and can go cruising on his own hook,
just where he likes."
"Tell you what, boys," remarked Will; "chances are, he's some sort of
rascal, perhaps a real river pirate; and that squatty little power-boat
is being used for robbery on the big water highway!"
"Well, the boat looks dingy and dark, like all buccaneer craft are, they
say, you know," Will went on, quite undismayed by this reception of his
startling theory.
Frank himself was more than puzzled. He could not seem to get an inkling
as to what the truth might be.
The little launch far away up the river did seem to be acting very
strangely. And those aboard were certainly curious with regard to the
_Pot Luck_, for they had their glasses trained on the houseboat at
different times. Then, apparently, the power-boat was anchored again,
for the boys began drawing further and further away from it, until the
haze of distance seemed to entirely obliterate the suspicious craft from
their observation.
"Why don't they come right along, and pass us by?" asked Will.
"That's a part of the game, it seems," ventured Jerry; "just to hang
around, and wait for another chance to creep aboard this jolly old
rover. But make up your minds, fellows, we'll be ready to give 'em a
warm reception."
"Yes," broke in Bluff, "and if I only had a chance to fire at long
range, I'd be tempted to let 'em feel how hot shot can get, when fired
from a real gun!" and he gave Jerry an odd look as he said this.
The boys decided that since the day was rather warm they would do with a
cold "snack" at noon, leaving the getting of dinner until evening
arrived, with its cooling airs.
Bluff was perched high up in the bow, and engaged in eating his second
ham sandwich, while he observed a steamboat turning a bend far below,
and made some humorous remarks concerning river pilots in general.
Jerry leaned against the sweep, and was supposed to be watching to see
that the boat did not swerve too much while moving steadily along in the
current. Frank and Will were inside, cutting a fresh supply of bread,
with which to make their second helping, the boiled ham coming in very
handy for the purpose; and some cold coffee left over from the early
morning meal answering for a drink.
Frank had just risen to his feet, and was taking the first bite out of
his sandwich when he heard a screech from without, and felt a sudden
shock.
Will gave a shout, and let the knife with which he was carving the ham,
fall on the table.
"They're boarding us, Frank!" he called out, as they both darted for the
door, passing through together, and appearing on the deck; where they
found Jerry making all sorts of strenuous efforts to swing the boat
around, as she seemed to be broadside to the current.
As Frank looked around, the first alarming thing he noticed was that
Jerry seemed to be utterly alone on deck; and yet a minute before he had
surely heard the voice of Bluff calling out to the one at the sweep.
Bluff had certainly disappeared.