"THE BEAUTIFUL ISLE OF SOMEWHERE"
Detective Stockham Calvert was quick to make deductions and as quick in
adapting himself to circumstances. He had said he did not expect to have
the help of Orestes Noxon--as we must continue to call him--in capturing
the two criminals, but ten minutes later he made a radical change of
plans. He meant to make use of the young man, in his pursuit of the post
office robbers.
"We must leave here at once," he announced in his crisp manner.
"Searching parties are out and some of them are likely to call here at
any time. Since Noxon worked with his face masked, except when the slip
occurred last night, it is not likely, he would be recognized by any of
those who are looking for him. But there is a risk which we must avoid."
Mrs. McCaffry made strong objection to their leaving before the dinner
hour, but the officer assured her it could not be helped. He and Noxon
compelled her to accept liberal tips, but she refused to take the last
remaining quarter of Mike.
"The same would bring me bad luck," she said, with a shake of her head.
"How could it do that whin it brought me the bist of luck, being I came
to your door?" asked the youth, trying to press it upon her; but she
would not consent.
"Ah," he said, "it's mesilf that's of no more account than a naught wid
no circle round it."
Instead of following the path that led to the highway and so on to
Beartown, Calvert turned into the woods through which his companions had
made their way to the humble but hospitable home.
"We'll keep clear of the village," he explained, "for every one there is
in a fever of excitement, and although I can do my part in the way of
prevarication, I don't wish to be driven to the limit, when it might not,
after all, avert trouble."
The fogs which often plague the coast of Maine and vicinity have a habit
of sometimes leaving as suddenly as they come. It was a great relief to
the party when they dived in among the pines and firs to find that the
gloomy dampness had lifted and the sun was again shining from a clear
sky. It impressed all as a good omen.
Noxon's rest and care for his injured leg had been of great benefit. The
rising inflammation had gone and the pain was trifling. If they did not
walk fast, he was sure it would give him no anxiety.
Calvert took the lead, with Noxon next and Mike Murphy at the rear. The
last was highly pleased to see his young friend walk without a
perceptible limp.
The leader kept his bearings so well that when within an hour he reached
the shore of the Back River, it was at the spot he had in mind. There was
the runabout in which he and Warner Hagan had come from Wiscasset, and
the owner was calmly smoking his brier wood pipe, content to wait
indefinitely when he was well paid for so doing. He lay a few rods south
of the landing, and just below him was the _Water Witch_, with Alvin
Landon and Chester Haynes on board, wondering what in the world had
become of Mike Murphy. The youths had tried to open communication with
the master of the runabout, but he had been warned by his two passengers
to tell nothing to anyone, and he glumly refused to talk. Chester had set
out in quest of the missing Mike, going as far as the village. All he
could learn there was that his friend had left a good while before and no
one knew anything of him. The second mate went back to his Captain, and
the two were so impatient that they were half inclined to leave without
him, when lo! he appeared with Calvert and Noxon, coming from among the
trees as if he had been absent only a few minutes.
Then followed full explanations, and you can imagine the astonishment of
Alvin and Chester. They were sure of the identity of Noxon when he first
appeared, but were considerate and said never a word that could hurt his
feelings.
"You ran away with their launch," added Calvert. "They ran away with
yours, and you and they met as you were coming back. But for the fog you
would have seen each other, for you must have passed quite close. The
beauty of it is," said the officer, with a flash of his keen eyes, "that
while they have gone far away we know exactly where. My friend Hagan and
I, with Noxon as our guide, are going to scoop them in."
He thought it best not to affect too much mystery.
"They passed down Montsweag Bay clear to Knubble, through Goose Rock
Passage into the Sheepscot, and up that to the Beautiful Isle of
Somewhere. Most folks don't know the exact location of that sweet spot,
but we know--thanks to Noxon--the latitude and longitude of ours, which
the same is the port we are heading for."
The plan was simple. Noxon, who was familiar with the running of the
_Water Witch_, was to act as engineer and steersman. Calvert and Hagan
would be the only passengers, and the prize would be Kit Woodford and
Graff Miller.
"And phwat's to become of us?" asked Mike.
"That depends upon how you behave yourself. If you grow tired of waiting,
take a walk up to Beartown, have dinner with Mrs. Friestone and then come
back and wait for a few days and nights till you see us again."
"That's aisy, as I told me taicher whin she asked me how much two and two
made and I informed her the same was five."
"But Mr. Hagan isn't here," reminded Chester.
"He will be very soon. Meanwhile, I'll say a word to my man."
He walked to the runabout, where he told its owner he might return to
Wiscasset as he was not needed further. He added a dollar to the price
agreed upon and the man bade him good-by. Hagan, who had gone off on what
might be called a reconnaissance, justified the faith of his partner, for
he came forward, and thus the party was complete.
The distance was shorter by way of the Narrows and down the Sheepscot
than by the route just named. Accordingly, the _Water Witch_ headed
north, while the _Deerfoot_ it will be remembered went south. The
difference was not much, the real reason why the course was taken being
of another nature. If the _Water Witch_ had set out to search for the
other boat, with no knowledge of its destination, it would have prowled
to the southward, inspecting all likely hiding places on the way, with a
strong chance that she herself would be detected and her purpose read
before she discovered the fugitive. By taking the northern route this
handicap would be avoided. They could make much better progress and not
be seen until it was too late for the criminals to escape.
Thus Alvin Landon, Chester Haynes and Mike Murphy were left on the shore
of the Back River, near Beartown landing, without any launch and
compelled to pass the time as best they could. They decided to spend a
few hours in the village.
They appreciated the reason why Calvert would not have their company. He
was plunging into a venture where deadly weapons were likely to be used,
and their lives would be endangered. The affair was really none of
theirs. Besides, their presence would be a serious handicap and might
prove fatal to success.
The _Water Witch_ soon shot past Cushman Point, passing the runabout so
close that the officers exchanged salutations with the man who had
brought them from Wiscasset. Calvert and Hagan sat side by side, both
puffing heavy black cigars, the smoke of which as it streamed astern
might have suggested that the launch was impelled by steam instead of
gasoline. She ran smoothly, and Noxon, with a pale face, his hands
grasping the wheel, steered as skilfully as Alvin Landon had directed the
swifter _Deerfoot_. He had done it many times and had no fear. The young
man had come to the parting of the ways, and nothing could turn him back.
His resolution was due to the wound, which had distressed him so much
when he hobbled to the home of Mrs. McCaffry that he believed for a time
he was near the end of life, and when one reaches _that_ point he is sure
to do some serious thinking.
Just above Clough Point, marking the northern extremity of the large
island of Westport, the _Water Witch_ turned eastward through the Narrows
and headed straight south down the Sheepscot River to its destination
some ten miles away. Noxon seated with his hands upon the wheel remained
silent. The officers spoke to each other now and then in low tones, but
most of the time left him to his meditations. He held the boat to
moderate speed, for there was no call for haste. She was running easily,
but a glance by the young man into the gasoline tank showed the supply
was low, and he wished to avoid stopping at any of the landings to renew
it. Besides, high speed is always a strain upon an engine, and he was
nervously anxious to prevent a breakdown at a critical point in the
enterprise. His familiarity with the launch made him cautious.
While Calvert and Hagan were following a clearly defined plan, they knew
"there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." They had high hopes of
finding the other boat at the spot which Calvert had facetiously named
the Beautiful Isle of Somewhere, but it might well happen that they would
be disappointed. At the first sign of danger the _Deerfoot_ would run
away and her superior fleetness would leave her pursuers hopelessly
behind. Above all, it was important that the criminals should not
discover their peril in time to get away.
"Noxon," said Calvert, leaning forward, "let us know when we are near the
cove."
"We are within less than a mile of it now. It is just ahead on the
right."
Each officer flung his stump of a cigar overboard and slipped from his
chair to the bottom of the boat. Inasmuch as their interest was centred
on one side of the boat, they crowded each other a little. They removed
their headgear and permitted only their crowns to show a few inches above
the rail as they peered over. They held themselves ready at the same time
to duck into complete invisibility.
"The cove is in sight," announced Noxon, slightly turning his head.
"Better keep down."
A few minutes later they felt the change in the course of the launch.
They were entering the inlet and the officers raised their heads barely
enough to peer alongside of the steersman, over the front and beyond the
flagstaff with its fluttering bunting.
"There it is!" whispered Calvert to his friend.
"I see it," said the other, "the Beautiful Isle of Somewhere; we are
closer to it than I supposed."