[Illustration: THERE CAME A SHARP REPORT AND A FLASH OF FLAME]
MOTOR BOAT BOYS’
RIVER CHASE
_OR_
_Six Chums Afloat and Ashore_
_By_
LOUIS ARUNDEL
[Illustration]
Chicago
M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
Copyright 1914
by
M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
CHICAGO
Made in U. S. A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. READY FOR THE START 7
II. THE CRUISE BEGUN 21
III. BUSTER CAPTURES A FISH 33
IV. A MYSTERY LOOMS UP 43
V. THE FIRST CAMP FIRE OF THE TRIP 57
VI. A STARTLING INTERRUPTION 69
VII. THE TREASURE CACHE 81
VIII. JACK PLAYS SCOUT 91
IX. OPENING THE STRANGE BOX 103
X. DISAPPOINTMENT 112
XI. BUSTER HAS A SHOCK 121
XII. THE MAN WITH THE BLUE MOON SWEATER 131
XIII. THE RIVER PIRATE 140
XIV. READY FOR TROUBLE 150
XV. JUST A MINUTE TOO LATE 160
XVI. IN HOT PURSUIT 169
XVII. THE MOONLIGHT CHASE 178
XVIII. OVERHAULED 187
XIX. ABOARD THE FLOATING RAFT 196
XX. HOLDING THE FORT 206
XXI. MAKING THINGS WARM 211
XXII. “DROP THAT BAG” 221
XXIII. EVERYTHING LOVELY--CONCLUSION 230
XXIV. CONCLUSION 237
The Motor Boat Boys’ River Chase
_or_
Six Chums Afloat and Ashore
By Louis Arundel
CHAPTER I
READY FOR THE START
“What are we waiting for, Commodore Jack?”
“Yes, I’m the last one to be in a hurry, boys, but it seems to me we
ought to be getting away. The river ain’t waiting up for us, you
notice.”
“Hold your horses, Buster, and count noses; perhaps you’ll find that
there are only five of us present.”
“Huh! guess you’re right, Josh Purdue; but what’s become of Jimmie. I
never heard a splash, and I don’t see him swimmin’, if he is a regular
water duck. Water’s too cold any way, this fine April day, for goin’
in.”
“Why, Jack sent him back to the post office to see if there was any
mail. He’s thinking of George here, who’s expecting a letter from that
sweet little Southern girl he met last fall, when we were knocking
around the Florida Keys in our motor boats, after coming down the
coast.”
“Rats! speak for yourself, Josh!” exclaimed the fifth member of the
party, whose name seemed to be George, and who was a nervous, active
boy, one of those kind who are always wanting to do things in a hurry;
“didn’t I see you get a lavender colored letter only last week, and
when I walked past him purposely in the post office, fellows, oh! my
goodness! you ought to have sniffed the lovely perfume that oozed out of
that envelope. Did Josh tear the end off? Not that I could notice; but
he took out his knife, and cut it so carefully like, you’d think----”
“Sure we’ve got all the grub aboard, Jack?” asked the said Josh, who
had turned more or less red in the face with confusion at being so
unexpectedly attacked, “because it’d be a mighty tough thing to get
snugly settled in the first camp of the season, and find you’ve gone and
left that elegant home-cured ham to home.”
“Our ham’s safe, all right; I’m looking right at it now!” declared
George, as he stared at the rosy face of Josh, and chuckled aloud.
“I’ve gone over the list, and checked things off, with the help of Herb
here; and so far as we could tell, there’s nothing missing. Things seem
to be in good shape, after lying all winter in the boat-yard. And the
engines work splendidly,” was the report of the boy named Jack, to whom
the others seemed to look as though he might have some right to that
title of “Commodore,” being the chief officer of the motor boat club.
They were standing on the river bank just below a small town that was
situated on the Upper Mississippi; and fastened to the shore by stout
cables were three power boats of vastly different patterns.
One of them, owned by George Rollins, was a speed boat, narrow of beam,
and capable of doing wonderful stunts in the way of annihilating space,
whenever the big powered motor chose to act decently, which happened
more frequently in these days than in the past, when it used to give the
skipper much trouble. This boat was known as a freak, and went under the
name of the Wireless.
The second was a good, roomy craft, which George called a “punkin-seed,”
because it took up so much room. Herbert Dickson was the satisfied owner
of this boat, and as it bore the name of Comfort, it may readily be
understood that the captain was a quiet, unassuming lad, who as a rule
minded his own business, and always wanted comfort before speed. Still,
it had often happened that Herb got to his destination long before
George, who spent so much time tinkering with his balky engine, while
that of the roomy craft had never been known to act sulky, or quit
business, but worked right along like a well-oiled clock.
The third boat was a happy medium between the other two, and went under
the name of the Tramp. Jack Stormways held the wheel of this, and as a
rule the absent member, Jimmie Brannagan, served as the crew. The Tramp
was a reliable article, and probably better fitted for cruising than
either of the others, when one wanted an all-round craft, capable of
speed, and yet not cramped for room, or cranky in action.
These six lads had formed a club, and during the last two years had been
able, by reason of fortunate circumstances whereby they came into a
considerable sum of money, to make several long cruises.
These have been narrated at length in previous volumes of this Series,
and the reader of the present book, who has not had the pleasure of
making the acquaintance of Jack and his chums up to now, and would
know more about them, is referred to the earlier numbers for full
particulars, with the assurance that he will find an abundance of lively
reading there.
Their first cruise had been down the Father of Waters all the way to New
Orleans, where they had a mission to perform. After that they had the
boats shipped to Clayton on the St. Lawrence; and for the better part
of vacation time cruised among the Thousand Islands, and on the Great
Lakes, going up through the wonderful Soo Canal, and seeing everything
that was worth while in that enchanted region.
Then, in the winter, they were given a glorious chance to start down
the Atlantic coast, taking the inside route away from the ocean, and
reaching Florida after some of the most stirring adventures ever told.
And as their time had not been exhausted, they put in some weeks of
pleasure in navigating among the Keys of the Florida peninsula, meeting
with many stirring adventures, all of which have been faithfully
chronicled for the reading of our boys.
And now, here were the Easter holidays come, and a little river
excursion planned, down to a big island that lay some ninety miles or
more below the home town, and which was an object of more or less
curiosity to the passengers on the river steamboats, because of the
strange stories that were told about mysterious lights seen there, and
queer noises that had been heard from time to time.
Fishermen sometimes stopped there, in several little old huts they had
erected; but of late years they seemed to have rather abandoned the
island for other more favored localities; declaring that the fishing was
no longer good there, and all that; but it was secretly passed around
that they had been frightened off through some means; and so the island
had come to have a bad name.
These bold lads liked nothing better than to explore such a place, and
learn for themselves whether there was any truth in the wild stories
going around. There was always a sort of peculiar fascination for them
in exploding silly stories about haunted houses, and mills, and all such
things. On several occasions Jack and his five chums had just looked
into such affairs, and proved how foolish the talk had been. And during
the winter they had often talked about Bedloe’s Island, and what people
were saying about it; until finally some one proposed that when Easter
came along, with more than a week of freedom from school duties, they
take a run down the river, and camp there; fish and loaf, and just have
the best possible time, in spite of all the ghosts that ever rose up
from the grave when the solemn hour of midnight came around.
And here they were, only waiting for the return of Jimmie, when they
meant to go aboard, cast off the lines, float out upon the swirling
waters of the great river, and then starting their engines, go speeding
down the current.
Although George, always in a hurry, might be expected to show impatience,
even stout Buster, who was well named, had confessed to a feeling of
anxiety to get started. They all loved this life on the water so much,
that after being shut up between the walls of the high school building
for some months now, five days in a week, they were just wild to be
afloat.
“What d’ye suppose Clarence Macklin’d say if he saw our bully little
flotilla all ready, with steam up, to start on this new voyage?” Buster
asked, a few minutes afterwards, as they stood there, keeping an anxious
eye toward the border of the near-by town, and along the river road
which Jimmie would have to use to reach them.
This same Clarence had always been a thorn in the flesh of the motor
boat boys ever since the club was started. He had certain habits that
the others did not like, and when he applied for admission, it was no
surprise that he had been black-balled.
After that Clarence, who was of a mean disposition, could never forgive
Jack and his chums; and he had lost no opportunity to annoy them, often
going to extremes in his desire to make them all the trouble that he
could.
During their cruise down the Mississippi, and when upon the St. Lawrence
and the Great Lakes he had bobbed up every little while, with his fast
boat, known under the name of Flash, and there were times when Jack and
his friends just hated the sight of that contemptuous face of Clarence
Macklin.
So when Buster mentioned it now, the boys looked at each other, with a
little anxious expression on their faces.
“Oh! I guess we needn’t look for any more trouble from Clarence,” Jack
remarked. “He’s kept clear of us all winter, you know; and perhaps he’s
let the whole thing drop. I hope so, anyway.”
“Well, I know Clarence better than the rest of you,” said Herb, “because
I used to chum with him before I found better fellows to go with; and
you can take it from me that when he’s quiet, that’s the time he’s to be
feared most of all, for he’s sure to be hatching up mischief. That brain
of his is never still. And ever since we got back from Florida he’s been
listening, second-hand, to the great stories we had to tell, and just
eating his heart out with envy because he couldn’t have been there too.”
“Yes,” put in Josh Purdue, with a frown, for he had had many unpleasant
experiences with the said Clarence, and the mention of that name acted
on him as a red flag would on a bull; “and I happen to know that Bully
Joe, the feller Clarence still hangs on to for his crony, heard me tell
a gentleman about the trip we expected to take during Easter holidays;
and when I saw him running down the street so fast you could a-played
marbles on his coat-tail, I just knew he was in the biggest hurry ever
to tell Clarence all about it.”
“Oh! then that explains why you’ve been keeping an eye out on the river
so much all the time we’ve been standing here,” remarked Jack. “Now, I
thought you were only trying to figure on the strength of the current,
and how long it ought to take us to drop down to Bedloe’s Island.”
“We’ll be there before the sun drops out of sight; that is, wind and
weather, and the engine of the Wireless permitting,” said Josh.
“Now, never you mind about what my motor is going to do,” spoke up
George, who, in spite of all the tricks that had been played on him by
his balky engine, still had an abiding faith in its ability to do
wonders, and was always sure he had solved the combination that had been
bothering him, this time for good. “I’ve been working a whole lot on
that same machine since our last cruise down among the oyster reefs of
Florida, and I’m dead sure I’ve got it fixed now so that she’ll never go
back on me again. P’raps she won’t be quite as swift as before, but then
I’m coming to the conclusion that speed ain’t everything when you’re on
a long trip. You fellows used to take it so comfy, while I was always
fretting, and worrying over my motive power.”
“Hear! hear!” exclaimed Jack, “the old buccaneer has seen a great light,
and is half converted right now. Chances are, Herb, he’ll be offering to
trade with you before long.”
At that George looked daggers at the Comfort, riding like a contented
duck on the water near by.
“Perhaps I may, when I want a tub,” he said, severely; “but I don’t
think that day’ll ever arrive, Jack.”
“All the same,” spoke up Josh, who had often been Herb’s companion on
the beamy boat, and knew the luxury of having plenty of room, without
being told a thousand times to keep still, because he was rocking the
boat; “I can remember the time when you were mighty glad to come aboard
that same tub, and beg a breakfast from the skipper, because your silly
cranky Wireless was out of commission or sunk. Don’t look a gift horse
in the mouth, George. Time may come again when you’ll feel like begging
the pardon of that noble craft. Many’s the happy day I’ve had while
serving my time on her. She’s a dandy, that’s what.”
“Thank you, Josh!” said Herb, quietly; but there was a satisfied gleam in
his eyes that spoke louder than words; for Herb really loved his boat,
and took it to heart more than easy-going, reckless George imagined, when
the scornful member of the club chose to speak slightingly of her.
Possibly George felt twinges of remorse, as his memory carried him back
to certain occasions in the adventurous past; for he tossed his head,
and went on to say:
“Oh! she’s all right, for those who don’t care anything about getting
along in a rush; but you know I never could stand that sort of thing.
I’m too much a bundle of nerves. When I’ve set my mind on doing a thing
I don’t like to be kept waiting. Herb wouldn’t fancy my boat any more’n
I do his; and there you are.”
“Well, we’ll soon be off now,” remarked Buster, joyfully.
“Yes, because there comes Jimmie,” added Jack.
Jimmie Brannagan was an Irish boy, as his name announced. He was a sort
of ward of Jack’s father, who held some little money in trust until the
lad came of age. His parents had been of a good family, and while Jimmie
chose to talk in a species of brogue, that was amusing to his mates, he
could really use as good language as any fellow, if he chose to exert
himself. He lived with the Stormways, and was much in the company of
Jack, being a warm-hearted boy, impulsive, and a friend who would stick
through thick and thin.
He was seen to be half running along the road, as though eager to join
his comrades, and get started on the joyous trip; for Jimmy was as
happy as a bird when aboard a boat. As a rule he acted as Jack’s
team-mate; but there were times when changes in the crews had to be
made, owing to a disinclination on the part of Buster, Jimmy, and Josh
to serve any great length of time aboard the wobbly Wireless; for they
declared that the narrow boat was just about as nervous as its skipper,
and kept the crew on edge all the time.
“What’s he waving that newspaper for, d’ye think?” Buster asked,
presently.
“You might guess a thousand years, and never know,” remarked George,
“but he’ll be along right soon now, and then we’ll find out. Take a
sprint, Jimmie; stretch a single into a two-bagger, and slide for
second! Here you come, old top! Now, what’s all the row about; tell us?”
Jimmie, red-faced, freckled, good-natured Jimmie, grinned, and held out
the open newspaper toward them.
“Sure and they do be havin’ the dickens av a time up beyant us. Look at
the illegant head-lines, would ye? ‘Bowld robbery! Thaves break into the
Bank, and loot the Safe av a Forchune! Lawrence all excited over the
visit av yeggmen! Reward offered for tha apprehension av the Rascals.’
Whoop! now, don’t that sound loike another time when we was sthartin’
down the river. History, begorra, does love to repate itsilf. But for
the love av goodness lit’s get off. I’m that ager to feel the water
gurgling underneath the keel av a boat, I could straddle a log, and take
me chances av a cruise down the ould river. Jack, darlint, give the
worrd!”