FINDING THE DARTAWAY
Right after dinner each of the boys wrote a message home, and the
colored man drove off with them to the village about five miles away.
Then, having recovered from their fatigue, the boys went to look at
Mr. Johnson’s collection of craft. They found he had several large
rowboats, and they selected one which two could pull, while a third
person in the stern could steer. It was rather a heavy craft, but it
was large and roomy, and on a pinch they could sleep in it at night.
“This will be just the thing to make the search in,” said Jerry. “Could
we take her for three or four days?”
“As long as you like,” said Mr. Johnson heartily. “Just keep it and use
it until you find your boat, and you can then tow it back. Now come
into the house. I want to pack up some lunch for you, and give you some
blankets to camp out with, since you are determined to start to-night.”
Having packed some provisions in the boat, taking along a pot to
make coffee in, a supply of the commodity and a small oil stove, some
kerosene, and a lantern, the searchers started off.
They camped out under a big tree at dusk and ate with good appetites
in spite of their gloomy spirits and then, having built a fire on the
bank, they prepared to spend the night.
“Forward again!” cried Jerry when after breakfast the simple camp
outfit had been packed into the boat. At noon they came to a small
village where they stopped for lunch, and to stretch their weary legs.
There they learned that the _Dartaway_ had passed early the previous
afternoon. It had made a short stop for gasolene. Of the dealer in the
fuel the boys learned that two rough looking men were aboard the craft.
Neither of them had said anything to give a clue to their identity.
It was about three o’clock, when, as the boys were rowing in a wide
stretch of the river, Jerry, who was at the tiller ropes, cried:
“Hark! Cease rowing! I hear something!”
Bob and Ned rested on their oars. The sound of puffing was borne to
them on the wind which was blowing up stream.
“It’s a motor boat!” exclaimed Jerry.
“Or an automobile,” said Bob.
“Automobiles don’t run along the river,” said Jerry. “There’s no good
road within a mile of the stream, Mr. Johnson said. It’s a motor boat.”
“But it’s coming up stream,” said Bob. “It can’t be our boat.”
“Unless it went down past us in the night,” remarked Ned. “But we’ll
soon see.”
Nearer and nearer sounded the puffing of the engine. There was no doubt
that it was a motor boat and that it was coming up stream rapidly. The
boys rowed enough to keep their craft from drifting, and, five minutes
later the oncoming boat hove in sight.
“It’s the _Terror_!” exclaimed Ned and Jerry at once, as they
recognized the Cresville police boat. “Well, if this isn’t good luck,”
Jerry went on. “_Terror_ ahoy!” he shouted making a megaphone of his
hands.
In answer there came three sharp toots from the whistle of the gasolene
craft, and her course was changed to send her over towards the boys.
“Did you come for us?” called Jerry.
“Not unless you are the burglars we’re after,” replied Chief Dalton,
who was in the bow, and who recognized the boys.
“Burglars?” asked Ned.
“That’s what,” replied the chief of the Cresville force. “We’re out on
business this trip. But what’s the matter with you? Got tired of your
new boat so soon?”
Jerry quickly explained what had happened. The chief was much
surprised. The _Terror_ had been stopped and, at the invitation of the
police official, the boys came into the motor boat. There were several
policemen aboard and the engineer.
“Shall we tow our boat?” asked Bob.
“Better leave it tied to the bank,” said the chief. “I want to make all
the speed I can. We’ll pick it up on the way back, that is if you boys
want to come along with us.”
“We sure do,” said Jerry. “We’d like to have your help in finding our
boat.”
“Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone,” the chief replied. “There
was quite a robbery at Northville last night, and they telegraphed for
me to help. The thieves got away in a motor boat, it seems.”
“Northville,” said Jerry. “That’s the very place we stopped for lunch,
where the gasolene man said he saw our boat. Who was robbed?”
“Why they broke into the general store there, and got away with about a
thousand dollars in cash that was in the safe from the Saturday night
sales. They haven’t much of a police force in the town, and they asked
me to help ’em out.”
“Maybe the same men who stole our boat robbed the safe,” ventured Ned.
“I shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” came from Chief Dalton. “But we must
get a hustle on. I’ll tow your rowboat over to shore and you can tie
her up. Then we’ll keep on up the river.”
Ten minutes later, Mr. Johnson’s boat having been safely moored, the
boys were on their way up stream in a much speedier fashion than they
had been proceeding since the loss of their craft. A good lookout was
kept for any sight of the _Dartaway_.
“I’ll land ’em yet,” the chief said. “They can’t go much farther as the
river gets too shallow. I only hope they stick to the boat to the last.
If they strike across country it will be hard to find them.”
All the afternoon the _Terror_ chug-chugged on her way. The boys forgot
their anxiety over the loss of their boat, and did not think of their
fatigue in the excitement of the chase.
It was about six o’clock, when, having made a short stop at a little
village, to learn that the _Dartaway_ had passed not more than an hour
before, the chief, who was steering, held up his hand for silence.
Everyone on the _Terror_ listened intently. From the broad stretch of
water before them, borne on a wind which had shifted and was coming
down the river, the faint puffing of a motor boat could be heard.
“That’s the _Dartaway_!” exclaimed Jerry. “I know her exhaust!”
“I hope you’re right!” said the chief grimly. “Put a little more speed
on,” he said to the engineer, and the _Terror_ leaped ahead under the
influence of more gasolene and an advanced spark.
A minute later they rounded a turn in the river and saw the _Dartaway_
just as her engine came to a stop.