The One-Man Boarding Party
Scotty hit the water and bounced once, but he held the plane down and
in a moment the water slowed it. He revved up again and taxied as
rapidly as he dared to the houseboat, swung broadside to it, and
throttled back.
Rick was waiting. He flung the door open and dove far enough to clear
the pontoon. The cold water closed over him briefly, then with a
powerful kick he flashed to the surface again. A few strokes brought
him to the houseboat.
The two men were leaning on the rail. One, a hefty man of middle age
with a striped shirt and glasses, said politely, "Do you want
something?"
Rick stopped and tread water. "I want the two girls you have inside.
Have them come out here, and we won't bother you any more."
The second man, the dark-haired one who had come to Spindrift,
smiled. "You mean our wives? They're having a nap. Sorry."
"I mean my sister and her friend. Stop stalling, Mister."
Striped shirt shook his head. "Sorry, boy. We haven't seen your
sister. Now climb back on your little airplane and get out of here."
Rick's reply was a stroke that brought him to the houseboat. He
reached up for a handhold, when a boat hook suddenly touched his
forehead.
"Don't try it," striped shirt said. "Stay off this barge or I'll bend
this pole over your head. Now get out of here."
Rick back-pedaled helplessly. Now what? He knew there was no
possibility of his climbing aboard while the men were on deck.
And what was happening inside? He swam forward, to the front of the
boat, and the men followed. They could move faster than he; there was
no possibility of outdistancing them.
If only he had a weapon! But wishing was useless. He had to do
something! He called, "Barby! Can you hear me?"
There was no answer from inside. His pulse speeded. Were Barby and Jan
all right, perhaps gagged, or had the mind reader already worked?
Rick swam away from the houseboat a few feet and floated, his mind
racing. There had to be a way of getting aboard. There had to!
Where was Scotty? He listened, and heard the plane's engine on the
other side of the houseboat. In a few seconds Scotty came into view.
He was on the water close to shore, traveling at high speed. As Rick
watched, Scotty swung the plane on a line with the houseboat and
opened the throttle wide.
Rick stared. Was his pal out of his mind? If he crashed the houseboat,
the girls would be hurt, too! Then he realized Scotty would never pull
such a stunt, no matter how desperate he became.
The men on the houseboat were at the rail now, eyes on the racing
plane. In that instant Rick divined Scotty's plan, he hoped, and
turned to gauge his distance. The plane was on the upper step now,
almost air-borne. Even as he watched, the pontoons pulled away. But
Scotty held the plane on the water, roaring propeller pointed right at
the men at the rail.
Rick put his head down and sprinted for the front of the houseboat. He
had to time it perfectly!
To the horrified eyes of the men at the rail a collision was
inevitable. They could only assume that the madman in the plane was
going to smash right into them. And as Scotty had planned, they lost
all interest in Rick, in the presence of immediate, personal danger.
The men threw themselves to the deck, clawing frantically for some
kind of cover. At the last instant, Scotty pulled the plane up in a
power climb. So near disaster had he come that the suction of the
passing pontoons lifted a coiled rope into the air on top of the
cabin. Even as he mounted the rail and stood on deck, Rick gave a
prayer of thanks for his pal's perfect judgment and lightning
reflexes.
[Illustration: "_Stay away or I'll bend this pole over your head!_"]
He ran along the deck, jumped over the two prostrate men, swung around
and launched himself into the cabin. He stopped, eyes wide with
fright.
Barby was lashed to a chair just inside the door, a gag in her mouth.
Jan was on the other side of the cabin, also lashed. But Jan had a
plastic cap on her head, and wires ran from it to a machine on a
nearby table. Two women were standing over the girl, and one had a
pistol in her hand.
Rick started forward, then stopped helplessly. The pistol wasn't
pointed at him. It was pointed at Jan's head!
He looked into Jan's pleading eyes and shifted his weight uncertainly.
He didn't know what to do now.
Jan did. Her arms were lashed tight, but her legs were free. She
lifted one of them in a kick that caught the pistol-holding woman
behind the knees. The pistol hand lifted as the woman flailed for
balance, and Rick sprang like a charging fullback. His widespread arms
embraced both women and slammed them back into the cabin wall. Then he
scrambled to his feet in search of the gun. It was under Jan's chair.
He bent to pick it up when Barby gave a muffled cry from behind the
gag. Rick whirled.
The two men were rushing him from the cabin entrance.
There wasn't much room in the cabin, but it gave Rick an advantage. He
dove toward the men, who stopped their rush briefly. But Rick hadn't
made the dive with the intention of meeting them head on. There was a
table along the wall next to the corner where Barby was tied up. Rick
went under it.
The men rushed for the table. Rick reached out and grabbed an ankle.
Bracing his legs, he gave a mighty heave. Striped shirt went over
backward in front of Barby, who stamped with both bare feet on his
stomach. The breath went out of him with a whoosh.
Rick gathered his legs and shoved upward. The table heaved into the
other man and threw him off balance long enough to give Rick a chance
to get to his feet. Keeping the table between him and the dark man,
Rick watched for an opening. Striped shirt was on his knees, shaking
his head.
The dark man was tired of waiting. He launched himself across the
table, arms outstretched. It was the best move he could have made,
from Rick's point of view. The boy knew he could not compete with
either man in strength. He had to depend on speed, and the infighting
tricks he had learned from Scotty. He used one now. At the last moment
he side-stepped and his hand flashed down. It was a judo chop, the
hand held stiff, the blow delivered with the side opposite the thumb.
It was effective. The man dropped to the floor, shaking his head. Rick
used the _savate_, the blow delivered with the heel. It landed
against the side of the man's neck. He went over sideways.
Striped shirt was on his feet now, but still starved for air. His
mouth hung open as he gasped, but he was coming forward.
Rick met him. He dove into the man's stomach and felt his head smack
into soft flesh. The breath went out of striped shirt again. Rick
regained his feet and turned to Barby. She was making sounds through
her gag, her eyes desperate.
The boy whirled. The women were back in the fight, one of them
scrambling for the gun under Jan's chair. Jan kicked it far back, out
of reach. Rick scooped up the table and slid it along the floor at
them. The table caught them like a pair of tenpins and knocked them
into the corner. He turned back to Barby and started to untie her, his
fingers racing.
A blow landed on his shoulder. He turned in time to meet another one
across the cheek that knocked him back against the wall. He rebounded,
fighting. The dark man was crouched low, fists weaving. Rick danced
lightly around him waiting. Let the man come to him.
The man led with a right. Rick rolled away from it, watching the left
that was cocked for a Sunday punch. The man threw his punch. Rick
caught it on the forearm and gasped with the pain of it. The guy had a
wallop like a mule!
Rick feinted with the hurt arm, then drove a chop at the man's nose.
It connected and brought a gasp of pain. Barby was screaming through
the gag again, but he couldn't look now. He brought a roundhouse punch
up under his opponent's guard and felt it smack solidly against ribs.
Then an arm encircled his neck and a clenched fist crashed against the
back of his head. He saw stars, and for a moment his guard dropped.
Then both arms were pinioned.
Striped shirt had caught him from behind. Now the dark man stepped in,
fist cocked for a knockout punch. Rick saw it coming and braced
himself.
The punch never landed. A crisp voice said, "Don't do it!"
Encircling arms fell away. Rick turned, knees weak.
A man in Boy Scout uniform stood in the cabin door, and in his hand
was a Police Positive.
"All right," the Scout said cheerfully. "Party's over."