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MOTOR BOAT BOYS
MISSISSIPPI CRUISE
Or
The Dash For Dixie
by
LOUIS ARUNDEL
[Frontispiece: Jack was keeping his hand on the alert, ready to reverse
his engine at even a second's warning.]
Chicago
M. A. Donohue & Co.
Copyright 1914
by
M. A. Donohue & Co.
Chicago
CONTENTS
I. ALL ABOARD FOR DIXIELAND!
II. THE START
III. A HANDICAP AT THE FIRST STATION
IV. THE SUDDEN PERIL
V. AROUSED AT MIDNIGHT
VI. STARTLING NEWS FROM NEAR HOME
VII. QUITE A SURPRISE PASTY
VIII. LEFT IN THE LURCH
IX. THE SWIFT RUN OF THE "TRAMP"
X. IN A KENTUCKY COVE
XI. TURNING THE TABLES ON THE BANK ROBBERS
XII. "LUCKY JACK!"
XIII. THE "WIRELESS" IN TOW
XIV. SIGNS OF THE SUNNY SOUTH
XV. BUSTER TAKES HOPE
XVI. ERASTUS, THE HOUSEBURNER
XVII. THE SHERIFF'S POSSE
XVIII. AT THE MOUTH OF THE SUNFLOWER
XIX. IN THE LAND OF COTTON
XX. THE CASTAWAYS OF THE SWAMP
XXI. BUSTER FACES STARVATION
XXII. THE DISCOVERY
XXIII. THE WINNER OF THE CUP--CONCLUSION
[Transcriber's note: The following two short stories were in the
original book, but are not related to the above story. No author was
given for them.]
An Awakening at Alvin
Caught with a Scrap of Paper
THE MOTOR BOAT BOYS' MISSISSIPPI CRUISE;
or
A Dash for the Dixie Cup
CHAPTER I.
ALL ABOARD FOR DIXIELAND!
"Aw, quit your kidding, now, George. You know I said I'd stick by you
to the bitter end; and nobody ever knew Nick Longfellow to back water,
did they?"
"I guess you're right about that, Pudding. Your word is your strongest
hold--next to eating. I depend on you to be my boat-mate on that long
cruise, if so be we make a go of the race."
"Huh! even if Herb Dickson and Josh Purdue can't get a chance to enter
this old tub of theirs which they call the _Comfort_, what's to hinder
us from starting when Jack heads his dandy _Tramp_ south; tell me that?"
"Nothing, Nick; only three boats would be better than two, and add to
the fun of the race for the silver cup;" and the speaker, George
Rollins, bent affectionately over the smart, bright engine of a new and
exceedingly narrow motor boat undoubtedly built for speed alone, and
carrying the significant name of _Wireless_.
"I'm told by Jack that the cup his father is having made is a jim dandy
one, and has the word 'Dixie' engraved on it," the fat boy remarked.
"He says it will be here by tomorrow. Perhaps when the other fellows
show it to their folks, they'll get the word they're waiting for."
"Well, for one I'm not worrying about their not going along," remarked
George, as he rubbed away with a bit of waste. "Why, you know there'll
not be any school till away after Christmas this year, because the
Dunker boys came down with smallpox, and the health board ordered the
building closed. That gives us a hunky-dory vacation. It was what
made me think of going along with Jack in the first place."
"Yes," Nick went on; "he just has to be in New Orleans on the first of
December, because that will of his daffy old uncle is to be read then;
and the lawyer sent word that Jack Stormways was a big thing in the
money that's left. And everybody that's mentioned has to be present
when the will's read, or lose their share. That's a punk sort of a
job, ain't it now, George?"
"Let up about that queer old uncle," remarked the other, in a low tone.
"For there's Jack coming right now, with Jimmy Brannagan dangling at
his heels. I guess Jimmy would go through fire and water for Jack, if
he could only do him a good turn."
"Well," observed the fat lad, shaking his head in a positive way he
had, "why shouldn't he when Jack has done so much for him? Ever since
Jimmy's mother died he's lived at Jack's house, and had a chance to
attend school; though for that matter I don't think he'll ever set the
world on fire with his knowledge of books."
"All the same the Irish boy is a shrewd fellow, and you've got to get
up mighty early in the morning to beat him out in an argument," grinned
George, who could look back to numerous occasions when he had confessed
himself a poor second under such conditions.
"Say, look at the big bundle Jack's carrying, would you?" exclaimed
Nick, taking a sudden new interest in matters, and getting to his feet;
for he had been lazily stretched out, watching his comrade work at the
engine of the speed boat, which was like a big cigar in shape, somewhat
near twenty-seven feet in length, by only four and a half beam.
"I honestly believe that's the bully old silver cup Jack's bringing
over to let us see," declared George, also aroused, so that his black
eyes flashed.
"And it's going to be our silver cup some day before long; because,
just as you say, this fine little beauty can cut circles around both
the other motor boats," and the fat boy patted the varnished frame of
the _Wireless_ as he spoke.
"Sure thing," replied George, with a grin; "but don't discourage the
rest by rubbing it in that we've got such a soft snap."
Two other fellows bustled into the big boathouse, where several
launches were resting on the floor on either side of the basin, at the
further end of which the water door was situated.
Jack Stormways was an active lad of about seventeen. His figure was as
straight as that of an Indian, and his face one in which a steady
purpose seemed to abide. Usually of a sunny, cheerful disposition, he
knew how to arouse all dormant faculties in the members of a baseball
or football team of which he might chance to be captain.
Nearly everybody liked Jack Stormways; and even such enemies as he
naturally made during his career in school admitted that they admired
his clean methods of doing things.
His companion, Jimmie Brannagan, was a short-bodied Irish lad, with red
hair and a freckled face; but possessing a sturdy frame, as well as a
ready wit.
"Open it up, and let us have a peep, Jack!" exclaimed George, as the
newcomer placed his package on a bench near by.
"No use asking such sharp chaps as you to guess," observed the other,
laughingly, as he started to follow instructions by unwinding the many
papers that covered the mysterious bulky object. "You see everything,
know everything. Well, what d'ye think of that for a beauty, George
and Buster?"
Poor Nick had about as many names as a prince of the royal blood. His
companions seemed to think that every title signifying something
bouncing should be applied to him at odd times. And so he answered to
anything that came along.
"My gracious! but ain't she a corker, though?" Nick now gasped, as his
eyes seemed to be trying to pop out of his head with admiration.
"Finest ever," observed George, a little envy in his black eyes; for
there were certain weak spots in his disposition that he had to fight
continually, sometimes winning out, and again giving in to the
temptation.
It was certainly a handsome specimen of the Winona silversmith's
cunning, standing almost a foot and a half high, and being decorated
with a magnificent mimic representation of a little motor boat resting
under a live oak tree that overhung the water of a bayou; and which, of
course, represented Dixieland, as could be easily seen from the long
streamers of Spanish moss dangling from the limbs.
Both boys handled the trophy with eager hands.
"Say, that's worth going after," said Nick, finally. "And I'd like to
wager that when Herb and Josh show it to their folks they'll easily get
permission to join us in the long dash to New Orleans."
"And what great times we've already had, laying out the program,"
remarked Jack. "That was worth something, alone. The journey's
divided up in about two hundred mile divisions. No boat can leave a
division point until every contestant is there to make an even start.
Only the time _consumed between actual stations_ to be counted in the
final summing up."
"And that other provision about the running time being exactly between
eight in the morning and four in the afternoon is a mighty wise thing,"
remarked George.
"Yes," said Nick, "but what worries the crew of the _Wireless_ is what
they're going to do with all the time on their hands. We've planned to
take a gun along, so we can do some shooting as we wait; and then the
fishing ought to be worth while. If necessary, I'll go overboard, and
try those new White Wings I bought. I'm going to have a whole lot of
fun with those contraptions; besides learn how to swim like a duck."
"Oh! bother those old junk things; will we ever hear the last of the
wonderful stunts Pudding expects to do with 'em'?" groaned George.
"Sure I saw him sthandin' in two fate of water one day, and flappin'
his wings like a burrd, so I did," declared Jimmie, seriously. "I
wanted him to walk out to dape water, but he said he didn't wish to get
the blissed things wet too suddent like."
"Say, just change the subject, won't you?" begged Nick, turning as red
in the face as a turkey cock. "My time will come, and I'm going to
astonish you fellows. Why, I can float right now, though perhaps you
won't believe it."
"On the contrary, I never believed you could sink," declared George,
derisively, as he surveyed the swelling proportions of his boat mate.
"Talk about needing artificial support to keep you on top; I bet you'd
float like a cork, or a lump of grease, if you only wasn't afraid to
make the try."
"What are we waiting for now?" asked Nick, appealing to Jack, because
that comrade never nagged him.
"Only to find out if the other fellows are going along," was Jack's
reply.
"Well, we've just got to know pretty quick," grumbled Nick. "I've been
kept waiting so long I'm wasting away to a mere shadow. If it holds up
much more, why I'll not have the appetite of a poor little dicky bird."
Of course there was a shout at that, for truth to tell Nick seemed
never to get enough to eat. He couldn't cook worth while, and yet was
always first and last at the feast. On the other hand, there was the
long-bodied and lanky Josh Purdue who was a splendid hand at getting up
a camp dinner, yet seldom cared to partake of his tasty dishes, and was
also, they whispered, addicted to dyspepsia tablets!
Between these two there was an almost constant warfare of humorous
badinage in connection with their several weaknesses. Josh would twit
the fat boy on his enormous capacity for stowing "grub" away; and on
the other hand, Nick generally came back with sarcastic remarks about
"shadows," and "living skeletons," and such unpleasant things.
"I've got a pretty good hunch that the thing will be all settled before
another day," remarked Jack, nodding. "And if so, we can get away on
next Monday morning."
"Hurrah!" shouted Nick, waving his arms above his head. "Just imagine
what a bully good time we've got ahead of us, cruising down that creek
yonder," and he pointed to where they could see the waters of the
Mississippi flowing past the boathouse.
"I've already made most of the arrangements," announced Jack, "and only
want to know whether there are going to be six of us, or only four,
before ordering the provisions for the start."
"Oh, how happy I am!" gurgled Nick, trying to dance in the confined
space alongside the motor boats, and almost falling into the well.
"He always acts that way at the mere mention of the word grub,"
declared George.
"Now you wrong me, partner," remonstrated the injured one. "I'm only
anticipating what ge-lorious times you and I will have waiting for the
others to come along--you shooting a cargo of ducks and geese on the
sandbars, and little me sportin' in the tide with my jolly old wings
buoying me up. How can I stand another three days of this agony?
Somebody put me to sleep, and don't let me wake up till the horn blows
for the race to start Monday A. M."
"Sure, I like to oblige," observed Jimmie, rolling up his sleeves to
the elbows of his muscular arms. "If so be you wouldn't moind tilling
me av ye'd prefer the jolt on the ind of the chin, or under the lift
ear. I'm not at all particular mesilf, only I like to plase as good
natured a chap as Puddin' Longfellow."
"Well, forget it, won't you, Jimmie? I guess I'll stay awake, after
all; there's so much to see and hear, yes, and eat, too. But seems to
me I just noticed a couple of fellows making this way from the road;
and sure as you live it's Herb and Josh. Look at the big grins they're
carrying, would you? Say, what d'ye think, they've gone and done
it--got permission to take part in the race for the cup. Wow! ain't
that all to the mustard, though?"
The door was darkened by a couple of hurrying figures, as the pair
pushed into the boat house, almost out of breath from hard running, yet
with faces that fairly shone with eagerness to tell the news.
"Hurrah for us, fellows!" shouted the leading boy, as he waved his cap
violently above his head; "we're going along, all right. Dad gave in
at last after ma put it up to him. Count the _Comfort_ in that race;
and she's going to give you all the time of your lives, too. Oh, my!
is that the silver cup trophy? Josh, take a look, will you? Won't it
just fit in my den, though? and I can see where they left space for
our illustrious names. Boys, three cheers and a tiger for the
Mississippi cruise!"