THE RIVER PIRATE
It was all done as quick as a flash, almost.
The unknown man aboard the white motor boat had no sooner sliced the
rope apart, thus allowing the craft to swing free and begin moving with
the current, always pulling steadily at it while lying there, than he
did something more.
“Look at him with the push-pole!” whooped Josh.
“Hey! hold on there! That ain’t your boat. I’ll have the law on you for
stealing!” cried out the dapper young chap, who had thrown his blankets
aside, and was standing there, shaking his fist after the bold
trespasser.
The big man with him, who had done all the work on the engine earlier in
the night, Jenks, started to rush toward the landing, as though he
believed in deeds rather than words. But the fellow who was so coolly
making off with their boat laughed harshly as he plied the push-pole
briskly.
Already had the boat gained a certain momentum, and if allowed to
continue as it was going for another full minute, would be lost to the
owner.
Jack and his five companions had not held back all this time either.
They were at a disadvantage, being much further away from the scene of
action than those who had been sleeping near the remains of the fire.
Consequently there was little chance for them to reach the spot before
the man had accomplished his evil task, and completed the seizure of the
white boat.
Jenks rushed down the shore like a mad bull. From his actions it seemed
as if he contemplated jumping into the river, and forcing his way out to
the stolen boat in spite of everything.
Indeed, he did push into the water, which happened to be rather shallow
at that point, and was making a gallant attempt to board the boat, when
suddenly the man dropped his pole, and held something out toward Jenks
that glistened in the moonlight.
“Keep back or I’ll shoot!” they heard him call out.
Jenks possibly did not believe him, for he kept rushing through the
water still; whereupon there came a sharp report, and a flash of flame.
“Oh!” cried Buster.
Jenks had pulled up short, and seemed to be wavering.
“That was only a warning,” the man aboard went on to say, angrily; “but
try it some more, and I’ll aim for keeps. You get me, don’t you?”
All this was plainly seen because of the bright moon. And while they
stood and stared, they heard the crank of the engine worked, and
immediately the rapid sound of the exhaust told that Jenks had indeed
placed it in splendid order, much to his regret now.
So the white boat began to speed away. Jack noticed that instead of
keeping on down the river, the thief was gradually starting to curve to
the right, as though it was his intention to come around and head up
stream. At the moment he did not realize what this might mean but a
little later it dawned upon him in full force.
Meanwhile there was more or less excitement around that spot.
Jenks came wading ashore again, and holding his left arm in a way that
would indicate that he had received some sort of a wound at the time the
desperate thief fired at him.
The younger stranger was dancing around in a furious fashion, and acting
so like a simpleton in his anger that Jack felt ashamed to remember
that he had once suspected him of being the slick thief whom the paper
called Slim Jim. Why, this chap was an innocent of the innocents, just
the kind of boy his appearance had stamped him--some rich man’s petted
darling, allowed to have a fine boat for a play toy, with a steady man
to run it for him, whom he could boss around.
All this Jack realized in the brief space of time that he stood there,
surveying the scene, and hearing the popping of the motor boat’s exhaust
sounding less and less noisy, as the stolen craft went further and
further away from the island.
And about that time the distracted owner of the boat seemed to realize
that he and Jenks were not alone. He stared at Jack and his companions
as though unable to understand how they came there, or if they were
really flesh and blood.
“They said that this miserable island was haunted,” he exclaimed, “and
I’m beginning to believe it’s so. Who are you, fellows, and where did
you spring from?”
Jack was for taking the bull by the horns. He had seen all his suspicions
concerning these two swept aside, so that they were no longer objects of
concern in his eyes.
“It’s too long a story to tell just now,” he remarked as he approached
the other. “We belong in a town above here, and are having a little
outing on board our three motor boats, which are tied up not far away.
When you landed we wondered who you were, because there has been a
robbery committed in Lawrence up the river, and the two yeggs who broke
into the bank were said to have escaped in a white motor boat with a red
band around the gunnel.”
“What’s that?” gasped the other, as though staggered by such astonishing
information, “took us for burglars, did you? I like that, now. Why, my
name’s Algernon Lorrimer, and my father’s one of the richest men in
Minneapolis. Get that?”
“Yes, and I’ve heard of him, all right,” said Jack. “We’re glad to meet
you, Algernon, even if it is under queer conditions. My name’s Jack
Stormways,” and then he proceeded to string off the names of his five
companions in rapid-fire order, the other boy bowing politely at each in
turn; evidently Algernon had been well brought up, and was accustomed to
the usages of good society, even though he might be only a “stick”
aboard a boat, insofar as being able to help run the same was concerned.
“Glad to make your acquaintance, fellows,” he said, loftily. “I hope
you’ll pardon me if I seem rather out of sorts. Here I am left, high and
dry on this island, with my new boat stolen by that contemptible rascal.
But he’ll be sorry he ever treated me like this. My father will have him
found out and punished. That boat cost two thousand dollars just last
week. We were on our first cruise with it, and playing tag with Chauncey
Gregory and his Firefly. They were to chase us, you know, and the first
one to get to St. Louis without being seen by the other was to win the
race. But we had some trouble with our engine, though we managed to fix
it in great shape. And now my Saunterer is stolen by a vile wretch. How
could he have ever come out here on this lonely island; and what would
he want to take such a fine boat for, when he couldn’t sell it anywhere,
without being arrested?”
Apparently Algernon was “some talker,” as Josh put it. Once he got
started, and he was like a seven-day clock in action. And Jack chuckled
to think that they had been looking upon all this as assumed, and that
the millionaire’s pampered boy had been a desperate thief, playing a
little game. It was one of the most ridiculous happenings that had ever
come to the motor boat chums.
And as Algernon was talking a sudden idea had leaped into Jack’s active
mind. This time it was founded on facts that were absolutely true, and
could be relied upon.
It all hinged on that wonderful sweater belonging to Buster, and which
was so queerly marked with a blue moon.
Now Jack knew positively that the same garment had been in the shed
where the trio of motor boats were lying, awaiting the beginning of the
cruise, on the previous evening, for he had handled it himself. Buster
could not find it when he wanted to wear it later on, and the rest
believed that it had been carelessly left somewhere in the shop or shed,
though as we have seen, the fat boy suspected Josh of playing a sly
trick on him.
Now the fact that this strange man was actually wearing the novel
sweater was positive evidence that he must have been in the shop of the
boat builder on the previous night, for some purpose or other, and
had taken the garment then, perhaps because it looked warm, and he
anticipated a chilly ride down the river.
Yes, Jack had jumped to a conclusion in the matter. Although his first
guess with regard to the identity of Algernon and Jenks had been a bad
one, he believed he could do much better with this other fellow; and
whom he now believed to be one of the desperate scoundrels who had
broken into the bank at Lawrence.
A lot of things went to point that way; and Buster’s sweater was the
only connecting clue, as it were. How the men happened to be on the
island, and why one of them was ready to take chances in stealing some
of their food, of course Jack was hardly in a condition to say just
then. They must have been pretty hungry, which would indicate that they
could not have had any food aboard their boat at the time they fled from
pursuit. Perhaps some accident had happened to the craft in which they
had come down the river. That would account for the fellow stealing the
fine new motor boat belonging to the tenderfoot cruiser, Algernon. It
may have taken his fancy for some reason or other; perhaps because it
happened to resemble their own craft, now disabled.
Strange how things will fly through the mind at times, when there is any
cause for excitement. Jack thought of a score of facts calculated to
back up his theory, even while he was standing there, with the throbbing
of the lost boat still sounding faintly in his ears.
Whatever of mystery there might be about the actions of the man who had
run off with the Saunterer, this was really no time for explanations,
or to try and figure things out. Later on, when it was all over, and
they could sit comfortably beside a camp fire, it would be fun to piece
things together, and find out just what had influenced all these events
to come about.
“Boys,” Jack said, turning to his friends, “I’ve just come to the
conclusion that we’ve run across one of those bank thieves after all.”
“You mean the chap who stole my boat?” ejaculated Algernon, “goodness
gracious! who would have thought now, that I’d come in contact with such
desperate characters in my little run down-river. And he shot my man,
too; see, Jenks is getting one of your friends, to wrap a rag around his
arm. This is thrilling. It makes my blood run cold to think that I was
actually so close to a real burglar. Won’t I have the story to tell
Chauncey, though? But how am I ever to get off this island, and try to
recover my boat?”
“Leave that to us, Algernon,” said Jack, quietly.
“Hurrah! Jack’s taken the job on!” shouted Josh, excitedly, “and when he
says he’ll see it through, you can bet your boots he means business.
What are we going to do about it, Jack?”
All eyes were of course turned upon the Commodore. In this critical time
they seemed to depend on him to lead the way out of the maze. Jack would
know what to do; that was what the rest always said to each other, as
soon as any serious difficulty arose.
And Jack simply raised his hand as if to call for silence, as he said:
“Wait a minute, fellows, I want to listen to what those rapid-fire
explosions aboard the white motor boat are telling me. They’re getting
louder again, you notice, with every minute that passes.”