THROUGH THE FOG
It was an astounding discovery.
With never a thought of the grotesque mistake, both youths had boarded
the launch believing it to be the _Deerfoot_; they had pursued the
imaginary fugitive only to awaken to the fact that she was not a
fugitive, and that they had unconsciously stolen the property of the
burglars, which must have been lying so near their own craft that the
slight difference of location was not noticed.
Chester stepped down and seated himself at the elbow of his chum.
"Here are only four seats instead of six. Why didn't we notice it
before?"
"Because we were too much occupied with other things, or rather were both
struck with blindness just then. As Mike would say, I'm completely
flabbergasted."
"And I'm with you. What's to be done now?"
"Tell me where the _Deerfoot_ is."
"Ask me something easier. She may be lying where we left her, or twenty
miles away."
"We should have heard her if she came down stream."
"She may have gone up the river and around into the Sheepscot."
"And back to the former hiding place of this boat or to a different
one--the 'Beautiful Isle of Somewhere,'" said Alvin grimly.
"One place will serve as well as another. I wonder whether there was ever
so wonderful a mix-up of launches since such craft were known."
Alvin shut off power and the two listened. From some point miles away
came the hoarse growl of a steam whistle, but all else was still. He had
hoped that they would hear the _Deerfoot's_ exhaust, but nothing of the
kind came to their ears. He flirted the switch around and resumed the
speed which was not above half a dozen miles an hour.
One of the plagues of the Maine coast is the dense fogs which sometimes
creep far up the rivers. Such an obscurity now began settling over
Montsweag Bay and Back River, shutting out the moonlight as well as the
rays of the rising sun. Before Alvin was aware, he could not see either
shore until he had run far over to the right and caught a shadowy sight
of the pines, spruce and firs which lined the bank. The air dripped
moisture and, though it was summer, it grew chilly.
While gliding slowly forward they heard a steamer's bell, accompanied by
occasional blasts from her whistle. She was feeling her way down stream
and sounding warnings to other craft. By and by the beat of her screw and
the ripple of the water from her bow sounded so near that Alvin edged
closer to land. In the heavy mist loomed a minute later a bulky steamer,
surging southward at sluggish speed, the crew, as seen for an instant,
looking like saturated ghosts.
The boat was quickly swallowed up, her bell still tolling, with blasts
from her whistle at short intervals.
Seated as described, the two youths discussed what was the best thing to
do. It seemed advisable to return to the point from which they started,
that is, near Beartown landing. There was not one chance in a hundred
that they would find the _Deerfoot_ there, but such a thing was not
impossible. That which made this policy seem wise was the likelihood of
again meeting Detective Calvert. The news of the attempted robbery of the
Beartown post office would be telegraphed far and wide, and he would be
sure to hear of it at Wiscasset. It would not take him and his brother
officer long to reach the village, where the lads could hope to see him.
It was certainly a singular coincidence that the launch should be twice
stolen in so brief a time, and the owner grimly asked himself whether
fate had not ordained that he was to lose it after all.
There was no light in the maze of conjecture that opened before them.
Chester suggested an alarming complication.
"The _Deerfoot_ can outspeed any craft in the Maine waters. These
burglars must have a hiding place, and we know there is no end to them
among the bays, inlets, coves and islands that stud the rivers. Suppose
they board the launch and speed away till all pursuit is thrown off the
scent--something they can easily do--and then abandon the boat."
"We shall find her sooner or later, and Calvert will perhaps in this way
get on their track."
"They can avert such danger by sinking her in deep water, where she may
not be found for years."
"I have not thought of that. It looks as if they had the whip-hand. These
fellows may have blundered last night, but it was solely through the
sudden appearance of Mike on the spot, for they are no fools. If we try
to get the best of them we shall get the worst, unless we have the help
of Mr. Calvert."
"And the only way to gain that is to go back to Beartown."
"So it seems to me. What do you think?" asked the Captain.
"I know of nothing better. Wouldn't it be well to hit up the pace a
little?"
"If this fog would only lift! But it seems to be growing thicker. We must
feel our way."
While the Captain was doing this, his second mate looked over the _Water
Witch_. Its resemblance to the _Deerfoot_ was remarkable. It was probably
two or three feet shorter, but that was the only noticeable difference.
The model was the same, even to the color of the paint used. As has
already been said, however, there were only four seats while the
_Deerfoot_ had six. The similarity of the craft was proved by the fact
that Alvin Landon boarded and ran it for quite a number of miles before
even the slightest suspicion entered his mind.
All landmarks were shut from view until, as may be said, the launch ran
against them. The boys had little or no acquaintance with the river they
were ascending, and only here and there were they able to identify
certain landings or towns from their previous study of the map. Alvin
knew he was creeping northward, and sooner or later must reach the point
which he left during the latter part of the night. Even the landing would
not be recognized without close study, and possibly not even then.
Had not the noise made by the progress of the launch shut out a certain
sound and had not the dense fog hidden something from sight, the two
would have made a startling discovery within the hour which followed
their turning back. But no knowledge of that nature came to them.
The boys agreed that they would not reach their destination until long
after their change of course. Neither noted when this was done, but
Chester now looked at his watch and found it showed a few minutes to
seven.
"A good hour for breakfast," he remarked, "and my appetite is with me, as
I am sure yours is with you."
Alvin nodded and kept his eye on the receding shore and the water ahead.
"Mike is to be envied, for the good woman and especially the daughter
will give him the best their house can afford. These boats don't carry a
large stock of provisions--who knows but there's something of the kind on
board?"
He asked the Captain to rise while he lifted the cushioned lid of the
locker upon which he had been sitting. The next moment Chester uttered a
joyous cry.
"Hurrah! we're in luck!"
He held up a large paper bag into which he had peeped. It contained half
a dozen plump ham sandwiches.
"While we are about it suppose we see what other treasures are in the
ship's chest."
They found a most interesting stock indeed. Five black pieces of muslin,
each with two peep-holes, several sets of false whiskers, two pairs of
brass knuckles, three metal rings from each of which dangled more than a
dozen keys of varying sizes, a box of revolver cartridges, a formidable
knife, some twine and a number of articles of no importance.
"They tell their story," said Chester, holding them up one after another
for his chum's inspection. "If the officers of the law arrest us, we
shall have to depend upon our friends to prove an alibi."
"Meanwhile there is no need to keep those sandwiches waiting."
"Wonder if they are poisoned," laughed Chester, as he passed one to his
chum, and sank his teeth in another. "Anyhow, I'm going to take chances."
"So am I. They don't seem to have any cooking utensils on board, so
coffee and warm food are to be denied us."
The Captain ate with one hand on the steering wheel, and frequent glances
ahead. Now and then they would find themselves approaching a sharp
projection of land, around which the launch was steered, and then perhaps
would glide past a cunning looking cove, too narrow to admit a boat of
large size. Once, while doubling a cape, they came within a hair of
running down a small rowboat propelled by a single occupant. He shouted
angrily for the steersman to keep a better lookout.
"I'm sorry!" called back Alvin; "but the fog bothers us. Will you please
tell me how far it is to Beartown landing?"
"'Bout half a mile, mebbe a little more. Who are you?"
Alvin gave his right name and thanked the man for his information.
"I thought that was about the distance," said Chester, as he resumed the
duty of sentinel. "I can't recognize any landmark, and couldn't if there
was no fog to play the mischief with our sight."
Alvin stopped the engine two or three times while approaching the spot,
in order to listen for sounds of the other boat. They heard nothing, but
had they not waited too long to make the experiment, they would have
picked up some exceedingly interesting information.
"Here's the spot!" called Chester a few minutes later, as he identified
the spiderlike landing from which a road led to Beartown.
"Then we have passed the place where the launch lay up last night. We may
as well go beyond and be out of the way of folks."
A hundred yards north of the wharf, too far to see it when they looked
back, the _Water Witch_ came gently to rest, the waiting Chester sprang
ashore with a line in hand and made fast.