"WHO SAID I WAS AFRAID?"
For Billy's information the developments of the afternoon were told
and retold when all were again together in the camp. There was much
discussion, too, concerning the advisability of causing the arrest of
the man in the golfing cap and, possibly, Nels Anderson as well.
Meantime Billy had announced supper. It was a most tempting little meal
with warm soda biscuits and honey as the chief items. The former Chef
Worth had prepared during the afternoon and the latter he had caused to
be brought from Fraley's in anticipation of his having the biscuits ready.
No doubt it was at the comfortable old farm home of Tyler Gleason that the
four chums had developed a marked fondness for the delicacies mentioned,
as readers of "The Auto Boys" will remember; but be that as it may, they
enjoyed the change from the usual camp fare hugely.
As has been stated, there was no little discussion as to whether the
Staretta officers should be asked to arrest and hold the stranger at
Nels Anderson's until he could be positively identified as Grandall, the
dishonest Longknives' treasurer. Phil Way declared firmly that this must
be done.
"Personally, I don't see any sense in mixing up in an affair that doesn't
really matter much to us!" exclaimed MacLester. He had been quiet for
a long time. When he did speak it was with hard emphasis in his voice.
"Murky and Grandall and the whole outfit that got away with the cash the
road builders should have had--well! we don't usually have much to do
with such people and no good will come of our beginning now," the boy
added.
For a moment Chip Slider's face wore a look of anger. Perhaps he thought
Dave's latter remark was aimed at him. But he said nothing.
Phil looked at MacLester in a significant manner, as if he would caution
him against speaking so. Yet, "No use growling, Davy," were the words
he said. Then he added that such a thing as duty must be taken into
consideration; that one who has knowledge of a crime and conceals it is
regarded by the law the same as if he actually shielded the wrong-doer.
"Gee whiz! I should say so," piped Paul Jones with shrill emphasis. "We'd
be a pack of softies if we let Grandall and Murky, and the rest, get
away, after all we know now!"
When Billy also joined heartily with Phil and Paul in urging that the
Staretta officers be notified of the presence of both Grandall and
Murky, MacLester no longer held back. How best to go about the matter,
however, became immediately a problem.
Dave wanted to telegraph the police in Grandall's home town and learn
if the man was really wanted by them. The hearsay evidence possessed by
Slider, with regard to the stolen twenty thousand dollars, he declared,
wasn't worth much until it could be backed up by more hard, cold facts
than were thus far in hand.
"Suppose we were to go back to Staretta and have a talk with the sheriff
or chief-of-police or constable--whatever they have there in the brass
buttons line--tonight," proposed Billy. He was resting comfortably, his
back against a tree, while Phil and Dave, with Slider's help, were washing
the dishes.
Having had a quiet but busy afternoon young Mr. Worth was quite ready for
an evening out.
"Sure pop!" Paul Jones exclaimed. "How do we know but that Grandall fellow
is right on his way now to fly the coop?--and that's just what he is, most
likely."
"Go ahead! I'll keep camp--Slider and I," put in MacLester quickly.
Perhaps Dave was anxious to show Chip some friendly attention to make
amends for the unpleasant words spoken a little while before. Perhaps
Chip, as well, wished to show that he harbored no ill feeling. At any
rate, "Yes, let him an' me do up the rest of them dishes an' the rest
of you get started sooner," the lad proposed.
The thought that Slider's presence, to tell the officers in person what he
knew of the stolen payroll money, would be highly desirable, did not
occur even to Phil, usually quick to see such things. The plan was put
into effect at once. With headlights throwing a long, white glow before
them Billy, Phil and Paul said good-bye. Worth was at the wheel, one
finger on the throttle, and at truly hazardous speed he sent the steady
Thirty in and out among the trees that bordered the narrow trail.
"Goodness, Bill! What's the hurry?" ejaculated Phil, alone in the tonneau
and getting more of a shaking up than he relished.
"Oh, he thinks there's so many trees around it won't hurt if he does tear
out a few of the big, old ones _that are all done growing anyway_," Paul
added grimly.
For it most generally is true that the driver is much less nervous than
his passengers. A chuckle was Worth's only answer, but he did retard the
throttle some and with less gas the machine at once slowed down.
The evening was close and warm as the previous night had been. The moon
had not yet risen but, knowing every part of the road, Billy let the car
pick up speed again directly he reached the broader, straighter path.
"We'll get this robbery business into the hands of the bluecoats; then
home for us," called Phil from his seat behind. He would not willingly
have admitted it, but he believed he smelled smoke. Also he was thinking
of a clipping enclosed from home that morning telling of very destructive
forest fires in other sections of this northern part of Michigan.
"I guess so," Worth answered. "It's a shame to punish a car on such roads
as these. The lake is all right and being by ourselves is just what we
wanted, but--"
The sentence was not finished. It was a way Billy had of leaving some
things unsaid. In this case the road told all the driver had left
unspoken. It was certainly "no boulevard," as young Mr. Jones had
expressively remarked the first time the chums traversed it.
The dim glow of a kitchen lamp was the only sign of life the boys noticed
at Nels Anderson's little house as they passed. They did not pause.
There would be no occasion for them to visit the place again, they had
decided, but whether correctly or not will in due time be apparent.
Just now the main thing was to reach Staretta before everyone, Link
Fraley in particular, would most likely be found in bed.
True it was that the little town fell asleep early. "And what's to stop
it?" Paul Jones had once asked. Yet the lights were still burning in
Fraley's store and at the post-office, which was in the little shoe store
opposite, when the Thirty rumbled down the main street.
Mr. Lincoln Fraley, standing in the doorway, went down the steps to meet
the boys as they drove up. Something had happened, he was quite sure, to
bring them back so soon; for, not being familiar with the rapid traveling
an automobile affords, he had no idea of the lads having been to Opal
Lake and back since he last saw them.
"It's time to close up anyhow. Come take a ride," Billy invited.
Mr. Fraley said his father would attend to closing the store and, going
in leisurely for his hat--lest he be suspected of a too lively interest in
the prospect of an automobile ride if he hurried, perhaps--he presently
seated himself in the tonneau beside Phil. As Billy drove slowly forward
Way told of the discovery of Grandall at Anderson's. Briefly he stated
the intention of causing the man's arrest and the capture of Murky, as
well, which, he was certain, could be quite readily accomplished.
"Well now!" said Mr. Fraley in a musing tone, and, "if it don't beat me!"
he slowly added in the same slow and reflective manner.
"But great land of belly aches!" Paul Jones chirped protestingly,
"don't you see what we want? We want to know whom we must
see--sheriff--judge--chiropodist--whoever it may be to get these
chaps into jail and nail down those twenty thousand pieces of eight!"
"Don't be in a hurry," spoke Fraley with greater animation. "What I had
in mind was that Nels Anderson surely is consorting with Grandall and
probably has been all along. I'm the more sure of it because the Swede
was in the store early this morning and bought a lot more stuff than
we've ever sold him at one time before. I didn't wait on him and didn't
know of it at the time you were here this afternoon. My father just
happened to mention it at supper. Pretty plain now where Nels got the
money and plain as daylight, as well, that he expects to have company
for some time, which accounts for the stack of provisions he took back
with him."
"All the more reason--" Phil began, meaning to continue, "that we should
get in touch with the officers at once."
Link anticipated what he would have said. "No," he interrupted, "You
don't need be in any hurry. And you do want to bring that Slider boy
with you when you come to talk with the sheriff. Your evidence is mostly
second-hand anyway. You don't want to give it to the county officers
third-hand and fourth-hand when it ain't necessary. I'm watchin' the
papers every day and I'll get some more news about Grandall's running away
from the Grand Jury and his bank. Just you wait."
There was a lurking suspicion in Billy Worth's mind that Fraley wished to
wait until he, himself, could communicate with the officers, but he said
nothing. Phil and Paul were disappointed, too, that their friend would
not advise immediate action.
The boys talked of those matters after they had left Link at his
home,--the large, plain house with flower beds in front, near the
store. But they had headed the car toward Opal Lake now and their
conclusion was to continue homeward. They would do nothing until the next
afternoon, at least, at which time, it had been agreed, they were to see
Fraley again. They would find out, meanwhile, and be able to inform the
officers, whether Mr. Murky was still "at home" at the rude shelter
where Chip had seen him.
The light was yet burning at the humble Anderson dwelling as the friends
passed on their homeward way. They thought they saw the figures of two
men sitting just outside the door where a faint breath of air might now
be stirring, but could not be sure. They were quite satisfied the guest
of the family was still there and for the present this knowledge was
sufficient.
As the headlights' glare swept the camp at Opal Lake Chip Slider was for a
moment seen making frantic gestures. He seemed to wish the boys to hurry.
Phil almost fell over the excited youth as he jumped down from a forward
seat a few seconds later, for Chip had seized a front fender as if he
would thereby help to halt the car more quickly.
"I can't help it," cried Slider with anxiety, "and I don't want to be
scared over nothin'--but it's Dave! He went over the lake in the boat an'
that's the last I seen him. It was somebody hollerin'--somebody hollerin'
from t'other side!"
With real alarm the three friends heard the disconnected words of the
frightened Chip. In a chorus they demanded to know all about the matter,
their own language hardly more clear than Slider's. Phil was first to
gain composure enough to call for quiet. Then he said:
"Now, Chip, tell us precisely what happened and how long ago. I guess Mac
could get himself out of any kind of pickle he'd be likely to get into,"
he added with vastly more confidence than he felt. "Go ahead now, and
don't be so rattled."
It was only a half hour or thereabouts after the automobile had gone,
the boy stated, his tones still filled with alarm, when he and MacLester
heard cries from across the lake. They had washed and put away the dishes
left to their attention, and were sitting down by the water, thinking it
cooler on the beach. Some refuse they had thrown on the campfire blazed
up, making quite a bright light. Like a distant whistle of a railroad
engine there came a little later a long, loud cry, "Hello-o!"
"Well, hello!" MacLester cried in answer, Chip stated, telling his story
clearly, but so slowly Paul was fairly bursting with impatience. There was
more "hollering" of hellos, the lad went on, then the voice from over
the water asked, "Could ye put me up fer the night?" Dave answered, "Yes,
come on over." Replies came back, "Have ye a boat?" and "Could ye not
kindly row across fer me?"
The outcome of the whole matter was that MacLester remarked to Chip that
they would wait until Phil and the others returned.
"'Would you be afraid to cross over alone?' I asked him," said Slider,
"an' I meant just a fair question, but he turned quick as a cat.
"'Who said I was afraid?' he spoke pretty sharp. Then he hollered out to
the party that had been yellin', 'Keep singing out to guide me an' I'll
paddle over to you.'
"He got in the boat and started and never a word he said. Every minute
or two I heard the other one and Dave hollerin' out to each other till
about the time when the boat could have touched t'other shore. Then it
was still an' I ain't heard a word since. I've yelled an' yelled an' kept
the fire blazin' up to steer 'em straight to this here side, but never a
word of answer did I get an' hide nor hair of 'em I ain't seen."
"Could it have been that fellow Murky? Would you know his voice?" asked
Billy.
Chip shook his head. He was quite sure the voice was not that of the
person mentioned.
"He could disguise his voice easy enough," spoke Paul dejectedly. "Dave
could swim all night, but the other fellow--"
"Now wait a minute!" interrupted Phil briskly, feeling that he simply
_must_ face the situation with courage, bad as it might be. He hurried
down to the beach. Loudly and again and again he called, "Oh! Dave," and
"Oh, David MacLester!"
No answer came to his despairing cries. Softly the water lapped the sand
at his feet. In the distance the frogs were croaking. Darkness too deep to
let even the outlines of the farther shore be seen hung over Opal Lake and
distinctly on the light breeze now springing up came the odor of burning
pine.
"If we only had another boat!" murmured Paul. "There's the skiff down by
the clubhouse," he meekly suggested.
"Why," said Billy, "our old boat was safe enough! I can't believe they
ever left the other side. That's where we've got to get to. We can go
around the east end of the lake in about half an hour's walk."
Phil Way was never so perplexed--never so at a loss to know what to do.
Looked to as the leader and the captain in all things, he usually was
quick to suggest, quick to decide and quite generally for the best. His
heart--his nerve--whatever it is that keeps the mind steady and alert at
such time--came nearer failing him now than ever before.
All the boys, Chip included, were on the beach. Several times Phil's cries
had been repeated by the others. At last--
"We must get the skiff," Way declared. "If Dave's on dry land we can find
him when daylight comes, if not before. But if he's holding on to an upset
boat, though too weak to answer us, maybe, we've got to find him right
off."
Leaving Paul to guard the camp and keep a bright fire burning, Billy
and Phil, with Chip accompanying them, were soon running toward the old
clubhouse. They carried the oil lamps from the car and thus made good
progress. But the skiff was found dry and seamy. It would be necessary
for one or another to keep bailing constantly, they saw, the moment they
launched her.
And where were the oars? In their excitement the boys had not noticed
the absence of this very necessary equipment until the boat was in the
water. With frantic haste they searched here and there. The rays of their
lamps were far from powerful and close inspection of each nook and corner
must be made to see what might be there.
The excessive stillness, the atmosphere of loneliness and melancholy that
hung always about the Point and its deserted buildings seemed intensified
tonight. The shadows cast by the two lamps seemed unnaturally gaunt
and ghostly. With all their activity the three lads could not but be
impressed by these things, but they were too occupied to be frightened by
them.
"At last!" Phil's voice came low but quick. In another moment he drew a
pair of oars from behind an unused door whose lower panels a charge of
buckshot had shattered, apparently, and which was now stored in a corner
of the automobile shed.
"Whatever will we bail with?" asked Billy, finding the skiff already to
have taken considerable water.
"I know," came a prompt answer and Slider disappeared in the darkness.
From behind the garage he brought in a few seconds two empty tin cans.
"There's no end of 'em among some weeds back there if we need more," he
said.
"No! You keep bailing, Chip, and you, Billy, hold the lights! Off we go!"
and Phil shoved away the moment all were fairly on board. From the black
shore line to the east they could see the campfire shedding a bright light
for a little distance over the waters; but except for this and the rays of
the auto lamps Worth held the darkness was like pitch.
"Paul's blaze will be our light-house. We want to hit toward the middle
of the lake, just about opposite the camp, then straight over to the far
side," spoke Way, breathing fast. "Keep me guided right, Bill." He was
pulling hard.
The incoming water kept Slider more than busy. With a can in each hand
he scooped to right and left. Worth found it necessary to give Phil very
few directions for Way was a splendid oarsman and the light craft swept
forward rapidly.
Every minute or two Billy sang out MacLester's name. Eagerly he scanned
the water as far as the lamp rays fell, but heard nothing, saw nothing.
Not until the north shore was almost reached did Phil slow down. Then he
let the boat drift forward easily while watching for a landing place.
"Raise the lamp higher," he called over his shoulder.
Billy did so and as the skiff floated nearer the quite steep bank rising
from the water at this point, there came suddenly into the lighted circle
a flat bottomed fishing boat. It was the scow MacLester had used and it
was empty.