AT THE BASE OF OLD SUGARLOAF.
Clancy and Ike had the privilege of seeing one of the strangest sights
that any one ever saw through a glass-bottom boat. They saw a half-clad
man grab another in a bathing suit, and immediately a submarine
wrestling match was staged. Burton gripped Hill about the throat, and
Hill's fingers slipped forthwith to Burton's windpipe. The scene grew
more and more horrible as the moments passed, and Clancy fell to
throwing aside his garments preparatory to making a trip of his own to
the marine gardens.
"Wait!" clamored Ike excitedly. "They've broke loose from each other!
They're comin' up. Don't go in!"
Clancy took another look through the glass. Burton's face was livid and
ghastly, and it was plain that he was hard put to it for breath. With
feeble, faltering strokes he was coming to the surface. Hill was
following him as relentlessly as a shark.
The rowboat, from which Burton had dived, came alongside the flat-bottom
craft. The fellow at the oars Clancy did not know. The motor wizard had
half expected to see either Gerald Wynn or Bob Katz, but the oarsman was
neither of these.
"What's happened?" he asked, a tense note of alarm in his voice.
Before Ike could answer, Burton's head bobbed to the surface, and a
gurgling cry for help floated over the water.
"Wait a minute!" called Clancy, catching the side of the smaller boat
before the man at the oars could get away from Ike's craft, "I guess
I'll go with you."
Without much difficulty, Clancy transferred himself from one boat to the
other.
"You needn't wait for us, Ike!" he called. "Have our clothes ready for
us when we call for them, that's all."
"What're you trying to do?" demanded the oarsman.
"We've got two fellows to pick up," Clancy answered, "and I'm going to
help. Are you a friend of Burton's?"
"I get half he makes for handlin' the boat for him."
"How long has he been doing this?"
"Yesterday and to-day."
"And your name is---"
"Mynie Boltwood."
"Well right, Mynie Boltwood! Steady it is, now, and we'll pick up the
two in the water."
"Never mind me, Clancy," sang out Hill, who had come to the surface, and
was swimming easily despite the weight of the wet clothing he had on.
"Burton is purty nigh tuckered. Take care o' him first."
Burton was a splendid swimmer, there was no doubt about that, but his
ordeal in the water had told on him severely. He grabbed Clancy's
outstretched hand desparingly, and was assisted to climb over the
bulwarks. Once aboard, he fell in a sprawl on the boat's bottom,
breathing heavily.
Hiram Hill got into the boat much more easily. Lifting his dripping body
to a seat, he grinned, and shook the long, tow-colored hair back from
his face.
"How was that for Hi?" he asked.
"It was a great piece of work!" Clancy answered admiringly. "You're
certainly there with the goods when it comes to swimming. I thought, for
a time, that both you and Burton would be drowned. We could have got him
just as easily, Hiram, if you hadn't gone into the water."
"I wanted to make sure, that was all."
"Boltwood," called Clancy, "put us all ashore on the rocks at the foot
of Old Sugarloaf. We'll bask in the sun, for a while, and I'll talk a
little with Burton, We're old friends, you know," and here Clancy
smiled. "The last person in the world I was expecting to see through the
glass bottom of that boat was Hank Burton. It was the surprise of my
life, and no mistake."
There was something here which Mynie Boltwood could not understand. He
was not ambitious in the acquirement of knowledge, however, and merely
did as he was told--and let it go at that.
Burton sat up in the boat's bottom, and peered at Clancy.
"Feeling better, Hank?" the motor wizard inquired pleasantly.
"What're you and Hill doing here?" inquired Burton confusedly. "We
reckoned you were in San Diego."
"Oh, you did!" returned Clancy. "You must know something about that
letter Hiram received, inviting him to hang up his hat in Q Street and
feel at home."
Burton, realizing that he had said something he hadn't ought to, bit his
lip angrily.
"How'd you happen to come to Catalina?" he went on.
"The Happy Trail branched in this direction."
"Eh?"
"Well," Clancy laughed, "Hiram came to Catalina to find his father, and
I'm helping in the search. We've got a few things to discuss, Hank, and
I think we'll do the chinning ashore."
By that time the boat was grounded among the rocks close to the foot of
Old Sugarloaf.
"I haven't got a thing to discuss with you," snarled Burton, "and I'm
not goin' ashore."
"Sure you are!" declared Clancy. "You'd a heap rather go ashore and talk
matters over with Hiram and me than go to jail. Wouldn't you, now?"
Fire snapped in the motor wizard's eyes, and his voice, although it was
like velvet, cut like steel. Burton saw there was no use trying to hang
back.
"If Wynn hadn't made me work for a little money," growled Burton, "this
wouldn't 'a' happened."
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
Boltwood had jumped to the rocks, and was holding the boat by the
painter. Hill followed him out of the craft, and now Burton followed
Hill. Clancy was last to leave the boat. He walked up toward the base of
Sugarloaf Rock.
"Boltwood," he called, "you stay there and take care of the boat.
Burton, you and Hill come up here with me."
The excitement that had claimed the passengers in Ike's boat had been
missed by the other boats. The rest of the glass-bottom fleet had gone
around Sugarloaf Rock, and Clancy was now able to look across the low
rise of rocks, separating the headland from the shore, and see the other
sight-seers.
"Hill and I came over here to find Hill's father," said Clancy, turning
to Burton, "and we find you. That strikes me as being mighty strange,
Hank. What are you and Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz doing here?"
"Who said Gerald and Bob were with me?" returned Burton sullenly.
"You said something before we got out of the boat which proved to me
that Gerald Wynn was here with you. And, if Gerald is here, Katz is
along, too. Why are you in this place?"
Burton did not answer.
"Why did one of you write that letter to Hill and try to get him to San
Diego?"
Still nothing from Burton.
"Did you fellows bring the fifteen thousand with you?"
Clancy's voice was sharp as he put this question.
"It must be clear to you," returned Burton, "that I haven't any of that
fifteen thousand. If I had, do you think I'd be divin' for quarters?"
The motor wizard seated himself on a bowlder. The sun was hot, but a
cool breeze from the sea tempered its warmth. As he stared at the
stubborn face of Burton, his eyes hardened.
"Hank," he went on, "I haven't any cause to love you, or Gerald Wynn, or
Bob Katz. One of you put a bullet into my shoulder, at the old adobe
near Wickenburg. The three of you, also, made off with fifteen thousand
dollars belonging to me and to Lafe Wynn. Now I can put you through for
all that, and put you through good and hard. Even if I can't get hands
on Gerald and Katz, I've got you securely. Do you want to save yourself,
or don't you?"
"Save myself? How?"
"Why, by helping me get back that stolen money. Tell us where Gerald
Wynn and Katz are hiding themselves, where the money is, and how we're
to get hold of it."
"Think I'm a squealer?" demanded Burton indignantly.
"Where are your clothes?" Clancy asked.
"Boltwood knows."
The motor wizard walked down to the water's edge.
"Boltwood," said he, "I want you to go and get Burton's clothes. Also
get from Ike the clothes belonging to Hill and me. Bring them back here.
And--listen! Don't say a word to anybody about what happened.
Understand?"
"I don't know what's happened, or what's goin' on now," answered
Boltwood, "so how can I talk?"
"Just remember that, then. Here's a five-dollar gold piece for you. Do
as I tell you and you'll be all right. Do something else, and you'll
find yourself in more trouble than Burton is in."
"I'm no fool, I guess," mumbled Boltwood, pouching the gold piece. "I
don't pry into things that ain't my business. I'll row across and get
the clothes."
He sprang into the boat, pushed off, and began using the oars
vigorously. The motor wizard turned thoughtfully and walked back to the
place where he had left Hill and Burton.
Hank Burton had issued his defiance. He was not a "squeeler," but he was
apprehensive regarding Clancy's next move.
"What're you goin' to do?" he asked.
"I'm sending for your clothes," was the reply.
"Then what?"
"Why, then I'll find some place where I can make a complaint against
you. You think more of your pals liberty than you do of your own. But
that's your lookout, not mine. If you want to go to jail and leave
Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz free to spend that fifteen thousand, why, have
it that way."
Clancy's tone was relentless. Burton knew enough of the motor wizard to
understand that he would do what he said he would.
The chap in the bathing suit walked back and forth among the rocks for a
few moments, then, finally, he flung up his hands helplessly and halted
in front of Clancy.
"You've got the whip hand, as usual," said he, with a tinge of
bitterness. "I'll exchange what I know for my liberty. What am I to tell
you?"