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[Illustration: "What do you make of them, Kernertok?" Bob asked.
"Heap big tracks. No seen um before." (_Page 70_)]
THE GOLDEN BOYS
ALONG
THE RIVER ALLAGASH
By L. P. WYMAN, Ph.D.
_Dean of Pennsylvania Military College_
Author of
"_The Golden Boys and Their New Electric Cell_," "_The Golden Boys at
the Fortress_," "_The Golden Boys in the Maine Woods_," "_The Golden
Boys with the Lumber Jacks_," "_The Golden Boys on the River Drive_,"
"_The Golden Boys Rescued by Radio_."
[Illustration: Series Logo, boys in motorboat]
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
THE
GOLDEN BOYS SERIES
A Series of Stories for Boys 12 to 16 Years of Age
By L. P. WYMAN, Ph.D.
_Dean of the Pennsylvania Military College_
The Golden Boys and Their New Electric Cell
The Golden Boys at the Fortress
The Golden Boys in the Maine Woods
The Golden Boys with the Lumber Jacks
The Golden Boys on the River Drive
The Golden Boys Rescued by Radio
The Golden Boys Along the River Allagash
Copyright, 1923
By A. L. BURT COMPANY
Made in "U. S. A."
CONTENTS
I. Mr. Fixit 3
II. Jack Investigates a Principle 18
III. The Legend of the Umsaskis 30
IV. Rex Learns How to Make a Carry 47
V. A Cry in the Night 67
VI. Rex Disappears 86
VII. Rex Encounters Wild Cats 109
VIII. A Mysterious Message 127
IX. Bob Meets the Enemy 149
X. Kernertok Gets His 175
XI. Stebbins is Found 194
XII. Besieged 214
XIII. Kernertok to the Rescue--Conclusion 233
THE GOLDEN BOYS ALONG THE RIVER ALLAGASH
CHAPTER I.
MR. FIXIT.
"What do you suppose can be the matter with the pesky thing?"
The speaker, a freckled faced boy about eighteen years old looked up
from where he was kneeling on the bottom of the boat in front of the
engine.
"Search me," his companion, a tall lanky boy of about the same age, who
was sitting in the stern, replied. "Gas's all right, spark's all right,
everything's all right and still she won't go. Can you beat it?"
"And I'll bet I've cranked it enough to run her the length of the lake,"
the first speaker declared, wiping the sweat from his face. "It's the
queerest thing. An automobile engine can have a dozen things the matter
with it and still run but you can get one of these little dinky marine
engines all in perfect order and then it's ten to one she won't more
than give a kick or two."
"Reckon that's just because it's a motor boat engine," and the boy in
the stern laughed.
"It's all right to laugh, but suppose you come here and give her a few
spins. Mebby it won't seem quite so funny then."
"Gladly, Sweet Cherub, and you just watch her go."
The two boys exchanged places and the lanky one, kneeling in front of
the refractory engine was soon spinning the fly wheel while the freckled
faced boy sat back and grinned.
"There, she coughed six times. That beats your record by one."
"Keep it up and you may get her up to seven."
But six seemed to be the limit of the engine's willingness and soon he
gave it up.
"No use to crank your head off," he panted as he got to his feet. "She
just won't go that's all, and--"
The freckled faced boy, who happened to be looking toward the shore,
interrupted him:
"There's Jack Golden on the hotel porch. He can fix about anything
that's fixable. Hello, Jack. Come out here a minute, will you?"
Jack Golden, a sturdy well set up boy of about the same age as the
others, glanced up from the paper he was reading, and, seeing who was
calling him, ran down the steps.
"Hello, Cherub. What seems to be the main difficulty?" he asked as soon
as he reached the end of the pier.
"There's no 'seems' about it. It just won't go that's all."
"Where there's a result there's always a reason," Jack declared as he
jumped into the boat. "Sure your gas and spark are all right?"
"Yep, and so's everything else except that she won't go."
"This is a make and break engine isn't it?"
"Yep, but mostly break," the lanky boy laughed.
Jack was busy removing a brass plate from the top of the engine which
covered the timing gear. He then opened the pet cocks and slowly turned
the fly wheel.
"She seems to explode all right, but wait a minute till I get this side
plate off so I can see when the pistons are up. There, that's better.
Number one is hitting at just the right time but number two is a trifle
too soon," he declared after turning the engine over a few more times.
"That timing arm has been bent a little. Guess we'll have to take it off
and straighten it."
It took but a minute to take the piece out and with a strong pair of
pliers Jack carefully bent the arm very slightly.
"There, now let's see what she'll do," he said as soon as he had
replaced the lever.
He gave the wheel a couple of turns and the engine began purring as
though it had never had the slightest intention of stopping.
"Well, what do you know about that?" the lanky boy gasped.
"It's no more than I expected," the Cherub grinned. "Didn't I tell you
he could fix it if it could be fixed. He's the original Mr. Fixit around
these parts."
Jack Golden laughed.
"I just happened to hit it right that's all," he declared modestly.
"Well, mebby so, but I wish I could happen to hit something like that
once in a while. Usually the more I tinker with this old tub the worse
she runs. But we're awfully obliged."
"You're very welcome, I'm sure. Any time you get stuck again just call
out, but I may not be so lucky next time."
The two boys unfastened the boat and headed it down the lake after
bidding Jack good-bye and again thanking him, and Jack walked slowly
back toward the hotel. He had reached the porch steps when the front
door opened and his brother Bob stepped out.
"Hello, there, sleepy head. Had your breakfast."
"Breakfast nothing. But what you been doing?"
"Oh, Cherub's engine balked again and I fixed it for him. Timing lever
was bent."
"Cherub has more trouble with that old two cylinder of his than Mrs.
Murphy had with her pig," Bob Golden laughed.
"I guess that's about right. But if you're ready at last we might as
well start for the cottage."
"Just as soon as I get a couple of pounds of sugar. I won't be but a
minute."
He was back in but little more than the time stated and the two boys
walked out to the end of the pier where their boat, The Sprite, was
tied. While Jack was unfastening the rope Bob took from his pocket a
brass cylinder about eight inches long which he slipped into place
beneath one of the side seats.
"Let her go," Jack cried from his place in the bow.
Bob touched a small lever and the boat began moving through the water.
There was no sound save that of the water as it was thrown from the
bows, for the Sprite was equipped with an electric motor instead of a
gas engine. The brass cylinder which Bob had taken from his pocket was a
powerful storage cell which the two boys had invented.
"I'm glad we don't have an engine to tinker with half the time," Bob
said as the boat gained speed.
"Oh, it's not so bad at that," Jack laughed. "That is when you can get
them to go."
The two boys, Bob and Jack Golden had come up to the lake from their
home in Skowhegan the night before intending to go at once to their
cottage on the other side of the lake. But a heavy thunder storm, which
continued far into the night, had caused them to change their plans and
so they had spent the night at the little hotel in the grove.
"There's the Jenkins boys in their new speed boat," Jack said when they
were a little more than half way across the lake.
"And she's sure coming. Look at the way she throws the water. She must
be making twenty-five."
"Well, we'll give her a wide berth. Fred ran into me once and while
perhaps he didn't exactly try to do it I never could believe that he
tried very hard not to."
"He can be pretty mean but I hardly think he'd do a thing like that on
purpose."
"Mebby not. Anyhow we'll give him the benefit of the doubt."
While they were talking the other boat had been coming rapidly toward
them and now was only a short distance off.
"Out of the way with that old tub," a voice called across the
intervening space.
"Don't answer him," Bob cautioned.
He saw that they intended to cut across their bow so he turned back the
switch and the Sprite immediately began to loose headway, and had nearly
stopped by the time the other boat was about fifty feet off their port
side and as far ahead of them.
Suddenly Jack uttered a cry of surprise for, instead of keeping straight
on her course, the speed boat made a turn and the next minute was coming
directly for them.
"Back her quick," he shouted.
Bob at once threw his boat into reverse but too late. The speed boat,
still going at high speed, struck the Sprite directly amidships and the
light boat went over like an egg shell. Fortunately it was a glancing
blow and not a head on collision.
Jack was thrown clear and struck the water sprawling. His first thought
was of Bob. Had he gotten clear? As he shook the water from his eyes he
saw the Sprite, about ten feet away, settling rapidly and before he
could reach her she was gone. But where was Bob? Not a thing was in
sight where the boat had gone down. For an instant he trod water and
gazed about him. Then, taking a long breath, he dove.
The water was very clear and he had no difficulty in seeing the Sprite
as she lay in about twenty feet of water. Then, just as he reached the
boat, he saw that for which he was searching. Bob lay just back of the
stern and Jack could see that his foot was caught in the tiller rope. He
was making no effort to free himself and the thought flashed through the
boy's mind that he must have been stunned.
In a frenzy of fear he tugged at the rope. Would it never yield? If he
only had time to get his knife out but he did not dare attempt it.
Already his lungs seemed nearly at the point of bursting. With a prayer
in his heart he gave a final desperate pull and the foot was free. He
had just strength enough left to give a kick against the bottom of the
lake as he grabbed his brother in his arms. In spite of his weakness it
was a good strong kick and they shot rapidly upward although, as Jack
afterward said, it seemed about a week before his head popped out of the
water. Eagerly the boy drank the life-giving air into his lungs all the
while making a desperate effort to keep his brother's head above water.
He knew that Bob was still unconscious and the thought that he might be
dead nearly overcame him. But, as he realized that their safety depended
upon his not losing his head, he forced himself to keep calm. But it was
hard work supporting that dead weight and he was tiring rapidly.
"We'll have you in a minute," he heard the voice as from a great
distance but almost instantly he felt the weight taken from him and he
was being dragged into a boat.
"Bob," he gasped.
But Bob had already opened his eyes.
"I--I'm alright," he said faintly. "Where's Jack?"
"Right here, old man," he whispered, the joy at knowing that his brother
was alive doing much to restore his strength. It was some minutes,
however before he got to his feet. He noticed that both Will and Fred
Jenkins seemed very ill-at-ease and the latter was as pale as his tanned
skin would permit.
"What was the idea?" he asked as he got slowly to his feet.
For a moment neither boy answered. Then Fred, after a glance at his
brother, said:
"Tiller rope caught."
"That's the excuse you made the last time," Jack said sternly. "Can't
you think of a better one?" Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned
to Bob.
"Sure you're all right, old man?"
"Head feels pretty wobbly, but I'm still worth a dozen dead men," the
boy smiled as he looked into his brother's face.
"Shall we take you up to your cottage or back to the grove?" Will
Jenkins asked.
"Cottage," Jack replied shortly.
No other word was spoken until they reached the little pier in front of
the Golden cottage, then Will Jenkins said:
"I don't suppose it's any use to say anything but what Fred said was the
truth. We intended to cross your bow the tiller rope stuck and before we
knew it the boat had struck. If you had backed a bit it wouldn't have
happened."
"Why didn't you go straight ahead instead of turning?" Bob asked.
"Why--er we were heading down for the grove and turned a bit too far."
"I'll say you did," Jack said dryly.
"Well, we're sorry."
"So are we, but that doesn't raise our boat."
"I suppose not."
"What are you going to do about it?"
For a moment Will and Fred whispered together.
"We think you were as much to blame as we were for not backing up when
you saw us coming," Will finally said.
"Can you beat it?" Jack whispered.
"All right. We'll let it go at that," Bob said as he turned toward the
cottage closely followed by Jack.
Neither Will or Fred made any further statement, but at once started up
their boat and, after making a broad turn, headed down the lake.
"Guess you saved my life for sure that time, son," Bob said as he threw
his arm about his brother's neck.
"Thank God I had the strength to do it. I tell you it was nip and tuck
for a minute," and he told Bob how he had found him. "But what happened
to you?"
"Search me. I remember seeing that boat bearing down on us and thinking
that she might hit us and then something hit me on the head and, and
that was all."
"Guess you must have banged your head against the stern of the boat as
she went over."
"More than likely."
The boys lost no more time in getting off their wet clothes.
"Let's put on our bathing togs and then after we rest up a bit we'll
take the row boat and see if we can find her," Bob suggested.
"Think you're equal to it to-day?"
"Sure. I'm all right except for a slight headache and that's going away
fast."
"Think they meant to do it?" Jack asked a little later as they lay in a
hammock on the porch.
"I'd hate to think so."
"I too, but that excuse about the tiller rope catching is worn a bit
threadbare."
"Yes, I don't believe a word of that. I rather think that they intended
to see how near they could come to us without hitting and shaved it too
close."
"They shaved it close all right. Suppose we can make them pay for our
boat?"
"I doubt it. You see their word will be as good as ours and I don't
think anyone else saw it. No, I guess we'll have to just take our
medicine and let it go at that. We've done it before."
"I'll say we have, but, believe me, once more will be too many."
"Well, we'll hope it won't happen again."
"It better hadn't."
For an hour the two boys talked about the accident and wondered how
badly their boat was injured.
"Wait till I get the water glass and a buoy to mark the place and I'll
be with you," Jack said as he swung himself out of the hammock.
"Must have been about here don't you think," he asked a little later as
he rested on his oars.
"I should say so. I happen to remember that we were right out from that
clump of cedars before they hit us but I'm rather hazy as to how far
out."
"You take the glass and I'll row around."
The water glass was simply a wooden box about two feet long and four
inches square, one end being closed water tight with a piece of glass.
By putting the glassed end in the water and looking down through the
other the bottom of the lake could be easily seen.
It is extremely difficult to locate an exact point on a body of water
and it was all of an hour before Bob announced that he had it. They
anchored the boat at once.
"I'll go down and see how she looks," Jack said as he stood up in the
boat.
He disappeared beneath the surface making hardly a ripple. Bob waited
until he began to get anxious.
"Thought you'd decided to take up a permanent residence down there," he
said as Jack's head finally popped above the surface.
"Not yet," Jack laughed as he climbed over the side of the row boat.
"How'd you find her?"
"Outside of a little paint rubbed off where she was hit I don't believe
she's hurt a bit."
"That's good news."
"But do you suppose we can get her up?"
"We ought to be able to. She's not very heavy you know."
"Not so heavy as she would be if she had a gas engine in her."
They anchored the buoy with a heavy rock which they had brought with
them and then started back for the cottage.
"Let's get something to eat and then we'll call a meeting of the
committee on ways and means," Bob suggested as he tied the boat up to
the wharf.
"I'm voting yes on both counts," Jack laughed as he followed his brother
up the path to the cottage.
A little less than an hour later, the dishes having been washed and put
away, Bob called the meeting to order on the porch and announced that
the chair was open to suggestions.
"Suppose the chair makes one," Jack retorted.
"Well, I've been thinking of a way that might work and then again it
might not. It's merely a question of gravity. Archimedes' Principle, you
know."
"Never mind Archi. and his principle. Just explain what you've got in
mind."
"All right. As you said awhile ago that boat is pretty light for one of
its size and I believe that if we take a couple or perhaps three of
those barrels that are under our pier and fasten them to her she'd come
up. What do you think?"
"I guess she'd come up all right but how are you going to get the
barrels down to her? It seems to me that part is going to be where the
difficulty will lie."
"I'd thought of that of course."
"I'm glad of that. I thought perhaps you had an idea that they'd go down
on your personal invitation."
"Hardly. Remember Archimed--"
But that was as far he got.
"All right. I won't forget him. But how are you going to get 'em down?
They're pretty buoyant you know."
"I know but if we hang enough stones to them they'll have to go down
sooner or later. Oh, I know it's going to be some job, and if you can
think of a better way I'll be glad to adopt it," he hastened to add as
he noticed the look of doubt on Jack's face.
"It isn't that, but have you any idea how much weight it will take to
sink one of those barrels?"
"Around three hundred pounds I should judge."
"That would be six hundred for the two and nine hundred if we have to
use three."
"Yes, and six thousand if we have to use twenty." Bob laughed. "Your
arithmetic is all right. But honestly, Jack, it isn't going to be such
an awful job as you seem to think. We can easily take three hundred
pounds of stone and one of the barrels in the boat at a time and that
means only two or at the most three trips. If we start in early in the
morning I believe we can have the boat here at the wharf by noon. What
do you say?"
"I say yes of course. I only wanted to be sure that you know what you
were doing."