EAGLES ON THE TRAIL.
"Hullo! Wonder what's become of those two fellows?"
Merritt voiced the inquiry, as he and Rob emerged from the police
station. The sergeant in charge had promised to do all he could to
apprehend the stealers of the pocketbook if they were anywhere within
striking distance of Aquebogue.
Rob looked about him. There stood the automobile. But of the two lads
they had left to guard it there was no sign. After waiting a reasonable
time, the two Boy Scout leaders began to feel real alarm.
"Somehow I feel as if Hunt and his gang have got something to do with
this," murmured Rob uneasily.
"It does seem queer," admitted Merritt. "Let's look around a bit more,
and then, if we find no trace of them, we'll go back to the police
station and look for aid."
"All right; I guess that's the best thing to do."
But, as we know, it was impossible that their search could terminate in
anything but failure. Not a little worried, Rob informed their friend,
the sergeant, of what had occurred. That official at once galvanized into
action. Before this, he had not seemed to take much interest in their
affairs. But now he really moved quickly. By telephone he summoned two
detectives, and the lads soon put them in possession of the facts in the
case.
"Pretty slim grounds to work on," remarked one of them with a shrug.
Rob could not but feel that this was true. After their consultation with
the detectives, who at once set out to scour the place for some trace of
Hunt and his crew, the two lads, much dispirited, and with heavy hearts,
set out for home. They arrived there in the early morning, and turned in
for a brief sleep. As Rob had expected, his father was not at all pleased
when he learned of the nocturnal use made of his car, and of the serious
consequences which had ensued. But Major Dangerfield, who had listened to
the lad's story with interest--it was related at the breakfast table--was
inclined to take a less serious view of the matter.
"After all, Mr. Blake," he said, "the boys behaved like true Boy Scouts.
It was their duty to try to aid in the matter of the pocketbook, and they
did their best. I think that it was cleverly done, too."
"But young Hopkins and Hiram are missing," protested Mrs. Blake. "What
will their parents say?"
"I don't think, from my observation of Master Hopkins, that he is the
kind of lad to get into serious difficulties," said the major. "In fact,
I am convinced that he has stumbled across some clew and is following it
up."
"I hope it may be so, and that both of them are safe," said Mrs. Blake
fervently.
The first duty, after the morning meal, was to call on Mrs. Hopkins, who
was a widow, and also on Hiram's parents, and explain the case. It was
not a pleasant task, but Rob saw it through with Spartan courage. He
succeeded in quelling the first vivid alarm of the lads' parents,
however, and promised to return with news of them before the day was
over. This done, Major Dangerfield, Merritt and Rob set out in the Blake
car for Aquebogue.
"It is your duty as Boy Scouts to find your missing comrades," said Mr.
Blake, as the car started off.
"We'll do it, if it's possible----" began Merritt dolefully.
"We'll do it, anyway," said Rob stoutly.
"That's the right Scout way to talk," said the major commendingly, "that
is the spirit that will win."
No news greeted them on their arrival in Aquebogue. The two detectives
were still out on the case, and the officials in charge had nothing to
report. This was discouraging, but before long one of the detectives
arrived with an important clew. He carried in his hand a paper package.
On being opened, it proved to contain two pairs of shoes, of Boy Scout
pattern. Rob and Merritt immediately identified them as belonging to
Hiram and young Hopkins. The major seemed much impressed by the value of
this bit of evidence, and before many minutes had passed they were all in
the auto and spinning toward the spot where the articles of apparel had
been discovered.
The detectives, it transpired, had not yet explored the hut, and Rob's
keen eyes were the first to spy the jagged hole in its roof. He at once
set his scout training to work. The first thing he observed was that the
hole had been freshly torn. An investigation of the inside of the hut
showed the traces of the fight between Hiram and young Hunt.
All at once Rob gave a sharp exclamation, and pounced on some object in a
corner of the place. Its bright glitter, as the light fell on it through
the hole in the roof, had attracted him at first. True Scout as he was,
Rob did not allow even the minutest object to escape his scrutiny. In
this case, he was richly rewarded, for what he had seen turned out to be
a Scout button. It was one that had been torn from Hiram's coat in the
struggle.
"This is conclusive evidence that the two lads were here," decided the
major. "What else can you deduce from what you have seen, Rob?"
The leader of the Eagle Patrol pondered a moment. Then he spoke.
"In the first place," he said decidedly, "it is evident that Tubby and
Hiram in some way got on the track of our enemies in the town. They
followed them here. That is proved by the finding of their shoes on that
dune near the hut. They took their shoes off for some object, of course.
Evidently it must have been to silently observe the men who occupied this
shanty. By looking at the footmarks in the sand outside, I traced them to
the wall of the place. The steps did not turn in at the door, therefore,
obviously, they must have climbed on the roof, for the steps ended at the
low-hanging eaves, and they do not go back.
"An examination of the roof shows that it must have given way under their
combined weight. See, that beam is as brittle as match-wood, from dry
rot. They could not have been hurt--at least, I don't think so--or this
button, which must have been torn off in a struggle, for they are tightly
sewn on, would not have been found."
"Very good," approved the major. "I have seen Indian scouts on the border
who could not have done much better. But what is the next step?"
"To find out what has become of them, of course," put in Merritt.
"Well, let's see how close we can come to deciding that," said the major,
with a side glance at the detectives, who seemed puzzled and bewildered
at the swift deductive work of the young Scout.
Merritt left the hut and made a hasty examination of the numerous tracks
without. He then scrutinized the muddy banks of the inlet closely. The
tide was not yet full, and the marks of the sloop's keel still showed.
Also sand had been tracked on to the little wharf. It was evident that a
vessel of some sort had lain there between tides. Equally plain did it
appear, that the two missing lads had been carried on board her. Merritt
lost no time in communicating his discoveries to his companions.
"You have done well," commended the former army officer, "I am convinced
that your deductions are, in the main, correct. But now the thing is to
get some craft to go in pursuit of these fellows."
"Ike Menjes, up the creek a little way, has a big gasoline launch he lets
out," volunteered one of the detectives.
"We'll get it if possible," said the major instantly. "Is she a fast
boat?"
"None quicker hereabouts," said the other arm of the law.
Ten minutes later a bargain had been struck, and with Ike Menjes at the
engine, and Rob at the wheel, the swift launch _Algonquin_ was dashing
off down the winding creek headed for the open sea. As she tumbled and
rolled through the rough waters of the bar at the creek's mouth, Rob's
eye swept the sky.
"Bad weather coming," he remarked.
"No need to worry in this craft," declared Ike; "she's weathered the
worst we ever get off here."
"I expect so," agreed the major, with an approving glance at the craft's
broad lines and generous beam.
Before many moments had passed, Rob's prediction came true. The
_Algonquin_, without any diminution of speed, was being pushed along
through a rapidly rising sea, while the wind howled about her, growing
stronger every moment. Rob caught himself wondering what sort of a craft
the kidnappers of the boys possessed. He hoped it was staunch, for in his
judgment the blow was going to be a bad one.
"It'll get worser before it gets betterer," opined Ike Menjes, coming
forward from his engines and peering ahead at the tumbling masses of
green water. The rising wind caught their tops and feathered them off in
masses of snowy spume. Overhead, dark, ragged clouds raced along. So low
did they hang that they seemed almost to touch the crests of the angry
waves.
Each time the _Algonquin_ topped a roller and then staggered down into a
deep trough, Rob scanned the surrounding sea eagerly. But no sign, had,
so far, appeared, of any craft resembling the one which they knew must
have left the creek. Seaward some sails showed, but they were all those
of large coasting schooners.
The craft they were in search of was, no doubt, a smallish vessel,
otherwise she could not have negotiated the narrow, winding creek, with
its innumerable bends and shallow places.
"Keep more in shore," advised Ike. "They may have hugged the land to get
the benefit of the weather shore."
Rob headed closer in toward the low-lying coast. He could see the waves
breaking angrily in white masses on the sandy beach. All at once, above a
distant point of land, he sighted the gray shoulder of a sail. The next
instant it had vanished.
Had it found an opening through which to slip into an inlet in the bleak
coast, or had it foundered in the wild breakers?
The question agitated Rob hugely. Some intuition told him that the craft
he had glimpsed had been the one they were in search of, but of its fate
they could have no immediate knowledge.