LEFT IN THE LURCH.
The two young cruisers in the motor boat
could not say a single word when these
astounding words reached their ears.
Meanwhile the other craft had drawn
quickly nearer, and Jack could even make out
the fact that the men crowded in her seemed to
be in some sort of uniform, for he certainly
discovered brass buttons.
Then it was not a joke, nor yet some sort of
trick being played by cunning river vagrants
in order to catch the boys off their guard.
Jimmie was rubbing his eyes, and muttering
to himself, as though he began to believe he
might be dreaming.
"Don't think of offering any resistance,
you rascals!" continued the gruff voice in the
nearby boat; "because we're ready to give you
a volley. Take hold there, Grogan. Now
aboard with you!"
A couple of burly men came sliding into the
natty little motor boat. Then lights flashed in
the faces of the two astonished occupants.
"Say, they're a couple of boys, Cap!"
exclaimed the man who had grasped hold of Jack,
as the glow of his lantern illuminated the face
of the skipper of the _Tramp_.
"Guess you've made a little mistake,
mister," remarked the boy, as calmly as he could,
for he was naturally more or less excited.
"Hold on there!" bellowed the leader of the
expedition, as he started to clamber aboard;
"don't let up on 'em a minute, men! Just
remember the account said something about the
thieves being young chaps, with smooth faces.
This is the boat to a dot; and I reckon we've
got our men!"
But even he was more or less shaken when he
came to look into the smiling countenance of
Jack Stormways.
"Take a look around," he said, presently.
"Perhaps you may find the evidence we want,
and the plunder. These are the days of the
young men. I've known mere kids to
undertake jobs that long ago would have staggered
old professionals."
While two of the men were upsetting things
in their eager search, the man who had been
called "Captain" once more turned to Jack.
"Who are you fellows, where'd you come
from, and what are you doing here up this
creek?" he demanded, harshly, as though expecting
to scare the other into a confession of guilt.
"My name is Jack Stormways, and his is
Jimmie Brannagan. We are on our way south
on a little race to New Orleans. There are two
other motor boats in the match, and a prize of
the Dixie silver cup falls to the winner."
"Well, you've got that down fine, anyhow,"
remarked the big officer, with what sounded
like a sneer. "Perhaps it's the truth, and again
it may be all hatched up to pull the wool over
the eyes of honest officers. What would you
think if I told you there was a thousand
dollars reward out for each of you if taken; and
five times that if the swag is found intact?"
"I'd think some one was valuing me pretty
high, considering that I've never as yet done
anything to make it worth while capturing
me," replied Jack, pleasantly.
His manner was apparently having an effect
on the burly officer, who again surveyed the
face of the boy by the aid of his own dark
lantern. The two men were all this while making
a sad mess of things in the boat, turning
waterproof clothes bags inside out, upsetting the
stores so neatly packed away in order to give
all the room possible, and making things look
"sick" as Jimmie afterwards observed.
"What's that you've got, Grogan?" suddenly
demanded the captain, as he saw one of
the others looking closely at something he had
picked up.
"A newspaper with something marked by a
blue pencil, Cap," replied the other. "And by
the powers, if it ain' an account of that
Waverly robbery, too!"
Immediately the captain became severe
again, and shot a triumphant look at the boy,
even as he let a heavy hand fall on Jack's shoulder.
"Say you so, Grogan?" he exclaimed.
"Hold it out here, so I can see. Well, now,
that looks like a find worth while. A paper
with a marked account of the bank robbery,
and in the possession of these innocent boys.
How would you account for such a thing, my
fine fellow?"
"Nothing easier, Captain," replied Jack,
readily. "You never heard that we belong in
that little town where the paper is published.
I've been in that bank more than a few times
when over in Waverly on business."
"Sure you have; ain't that just what we're
saying?" declared the man named Grogan.
"Keep still, Grogan, and let me do the talking.
Go on, young fellow; tell how the paper
chances to come in your possession, and who
marked it?" the one in authority continued.
"I suppose my father marked that with a
blue pencil, because he knew all of us would be
deeply interested. Besides, when we read the
description of the mysterious motor boat we
recognized that it was a ringer for my own
little _Tramp_ here."
Grogan was apparently inclined to be
incredulous. While he dared not break in again
with any remark of his own, he took occasion
to sniff as loudly as he could, and in this
manner show his utter disbelief in the story given
out by the skipper of the craft they had boarded.
"Then the paper came by mail?" continued
the captain, as he examined it again.
"Surely," replied Jack. "One of my companions
got it at Quincy, where others received
letters; but this was the only thing for me.
You can see the creases plain enough, where it
was folded several times."
"Yes," the other went on, cautiously; "it
has that appearance, though any smart chap
could do the same thing if he had his wits
about him. But I suppose you boys can easily
prove you are what you claim?"
"Sure we kin!" spoke up Jimmie just then.
"Give me the chanct, and I'll show ye lots of
things to prove I niver had but the one name,
and that was Jimmie Brannagan."
"There's another thing I just thought of,
Captain," Jack broke in with.
"Well, let's have it then. For unless you
satisfy me that you're the parties you say I
shall consider it my duty to take this boat back
with me, and both of you boys in the bargain."
"Let me have the paper, please," said Jack.
"Officer Grogan didn't look inside, or he might
have seen another article, marked with a blue
pencil too."
"Look out, Cap," warned the suspicious
one; "mebbe he just wants to tear it into
finders [Transcriber's note: flinders?],
and destroy incriminating evidence."
"Give him the paper, Grogan; I'll be responsible
for its safety," returned the captain, who
seemed to be drawn more and more toward a
belief in Jack's innocence; for there was
something in the clear gray eyes that met his gaze to
convince him that this lad could never be a
desperate criminal.
So Jack turned the local sheet inside out.
"There it is, Captain; please read it, and see
if you can believe what I told you to be the
truth," and Jack thrust the paper into the
other's grasp.
"What's this?" exclaimed the burly officer,
as he read, "an account of a race to the
Crescent City, in which six young fellows, well
known to most of the readers of this paper,
have entered, the prize to be a magnificent
silver cup donated by Mr. Stormways, the father
of the skipper of the _Tramp_!"
Grogan uttered a disgusted grunt, as if
keenly disappointed because apparently he had
made a dismal failure in trying to fasten the
robbery upon these two lads. Doubtless he had
been figuring on what he would do with his
share of the prize money, and hated to see his
rosy visions fade away so soon.
"And this is that same little _Tramp_, sir,"
continued Jack, pleasantly; "as you can see for
yourself if you take a look at the stern, where
the name is painted in gold letters. We are
unfortunate enough in having a boat that seems
to resemble the one supposed to have been used
in their flight down the river by the robbers.
But if you care to wait long enough for me to
get out some letters I have, I am sure you will
be convinced of our entire innocence."
"Say no more, Jack," declared the captain,
heartily. "I'm satisfied right now that we've
been misinformed when told that a boat
answering the description of the one in which
those two yeggmen fled, was seen to enter here
this afternoon; and that two young men were
aboard her."
"What time in the afternoon, Captain?"
asked Jack, quietly, though with a purpose in
the question.
"The man who talked to me over the phone,
said he had arrived in the suburb where he
lived at four o'clock. He had been out in his
motor, and was crossing a bridge here when the
boat passed under, going up. He could not be
sure to the minute, but reckoned that was
somewhere around two p. m."
Jack turned to Jimmie. His face shone with
eagerness, for a faint suspicion that had been
creeping into his head was now rapidly
becoming a certainty.
"Tell the captain, Jimmie, when we came in
this creek," he said, quietly.
"Twelve minutes till four, it was, sir,"
replied Jimmie, promptly.
"Oh! what made you take such exact notice
of the time, may I ask?" the officer went on,
curiously, though plainly interested.
"We are compelled to make a memorandum
of our stoppings. The conditions of the race
forbid any boat to be moving south before
eight in the morning, or after four in the
afternoon. So I can show you in my notebook how
an exact record is kept of such things. It will
be figured on when the race is decided. We are
going by stations you see, Captain, that are
about two hundred miles apart. At each
station we wait for the slowest boat, and then
make a new start."
"It was about four-twenty when the gentleman
called me up," observed the police officer;
"and he had a long way around to go after
leaving here. He could never have made it if
it was your boat he saw."
"There's another thing, Captain," said
Jack, smiling.
"Please let me hear what it is, my boy,"
returned the other, eagerly now, for he was
beginning to comprehend that this was no
ordinary young chap with whom an error of
judgment had thrown him in contact.
"Did the gentleman in the auto say that the
motor boat went _under_ the bridge at the time
he saw it?" Jack pursued.
"That's just what he did say," replied the
captain. "Of course he only had one quick
look as his machine traveled over the bridge
crossing the creek; but even then it seemed to
him the boat had a familiar look. And then,
later on it suddenly dawned on him that it just
fitted a description he had been reading in a
St. Louis paper about the mysterious motor
boat of the bank thieves."
"All right, Captain. We have not been up
as far as the bridge, as we anchored right here
when we came in. But, Captain," Jack
continued, earnestly, "both of us believed at the
time that there must be some sort of a motor
boat up yonder, for we saw a piece of oiled
waste floating down on a chip of wood, as if
some one had been wiping an engine, and
thrown it aside."
"Well, what do you think of that?" exclaimed
one of the listening officers. "It beats
anything our best detectives could have done.
But say, Cap, I hear something moving close
by. There it is again! There's a boat coming
down, and being poled, too."
"Turn your lights around that way, quick!"
cried the police captain, as though he grasped
the true significance of the sound.
As the men did so the dim outlines of a motor
launch were discovered not far away, with one
man using a pole at the stern to hasten its departure.
Jack understood what it meant, even as must
the officers; for as seen in the faint light from
the dark lanterns the strange boat was an exact
duplicate of his own little _Tramp_!
"There they go, Cap! Sure it's the rascals
all right!" shouted Grogan, forgetting how he
had been so sure that Jack and Jimmie were
the guilty parties.
Immediately the second man aboard the
other boat must have turned the engine over,
for there sounded a quick popping, and the
launch began to glide through the still waters
of the wide creek with increasing velocity.
"Stop! Hold up, there! You are under
arrest!" bawled the captain, as he started to fire
a pistol he had snatched from his pocket.
The man aboard the fugitive boat ducked;
and as the craft faded away in the darkness of
the night a derisive laugh came floating back to
the ears of the officers.