WHAT THE LAME MAN KNEW.
Dick was not aware that his brothers had been captured until some hours
after the sailing of the schooner. He headed for a part of the river
where several small craft were moving about, and was just about to
climb up the spiling of one of the docks when a lighter hit him and
knocked him senseless.
"We've struck a boy!" shouted a man on the lighter, and then rushed
forward with a boathook. As soon as he caught sight of Dick he fished
the youth from the water and hurried ashore with him.
The shock had not been a heavy one, but the lad was weak from swimming
with his clothes on, and he lay like a log on the flooring of the dock.
This alarmed the men from the lighter, and they hastily carried him to
a nearby drug store and summoned a doctor. From the drug store he was
removed to the hospital.
When he was strong enough to go about his business he found it was
night. Yet he lost no time in making his way to the docks, on a search
for his brothers.
The search was, of course, useless, and much depressed in spirits he
found himself, at sunrise, on the waterfront, seated on the stringpiece
of one of the long piers.
"They must have either been captured or drowned," he mused dismally.
"And the _Peacock_ is gone, too. What shall I do next?"
It was far from an easy question to answer, and he sat motionless for
the best part of half an hour, reviewing the situation. Then he leaped
up.
"I must get the authorities to aid me," he thought. "I should have done
this before."
He walked along the docks until he came to a street leading to the
nearest police station. He now realized that he was hungry, but
resolved to postpone eating until he had put the authorities on the
track of the evildoers.
As he was turning a corner he almost ran into a colored man going in
the opposite direction. The colored man stared at him, then let out a
wild cry of delight.
"Massah Dick, or is I dreamin'?"
"Aleck, by all that's wonderful! Where did you come from?"
"From de yacht, ob course, Massah Dick. But--but--dis knocks dis
niggah, suah! I dun fink yo' was on dat udder ship."
"I was on it, but I escaped yesterday, while the schooner lay in the
river yonder."
"An' where am Tom and Sam, sah?"
"That I don't know. They left the vessel with me, but we became
separated in the water."
"Perhaps da dun been cotched ag'in," and Pop's face took on a sober
look.
"That is what I am afraid of."
"Didn't see nuffin ob 'em nowhere?"
"No. I was hit by a lighter and knocked senseless."
"Whar's dat dar _Peacock_?"
"Gone, too."
"Wot you spects to do?"
"I was going to inform the authorities. We must find Tom and Sam."
"Dat's right, sah."
"Where is the _Swallow_?"
"Tied up jest below heah, sah. Dat dar Luke Peterson is a-sailin' ob
her wid me."
"Good. Perhaps he can help us in the search. He knows these waters
well, so he told me."
Together the pair made their way to the police station, where they told
their stories to the officer in charge.
An alarm was at once sent out, and the river police were set to work to
learn what had become of the _Peacock_ and her crew.
But all this took time, and it was past noon when word came in that the
schooner had been seen moving up Lake St. Clair on the afternoon of the
day before.
Then word was telegraphed to Port Huron to stop the craft, and on his
own responsibility Dick offered a reward of one hundred dollars for the
capture of ship and master.
But all this came too late. Losing no time, Captain Langless had had
his craft towed to a point fifteen miles beyond Port Huron, and had
then let the tug go, and steered a course known only to those on board.
The tug did not return to Port Huron until the next day, and its
captain did not know how much the _Peacock_ was wanted until
twenty-four hours later. Thus the schooner obtained a free and clear
start of thirty-six hours over those who were in pursuit.
"We are stumped," groaned Dick, when word came back from Port Huron
that the _Peacock_ had passed that point long before. "That
schooner now has the whole of Lake Huron before her, and there is no
telling where she will go. Perhaps the Baxters will land in Canada."
"I don't think so," answered Luke Peterson. "American vessels coming
in-shore are closely watched, you know, on account of the smuggling
that is carried on."
"Then the smugglers between the United States and Canada are still at
work."
"Indeed they are, more so than the average American has any idea of. I
used to be in the customs service, and I know."
"Where do you suppose Captain Langless will go to?"
"Ah, that's a question, Rover. The lake is over two hundred miles long,
and I've heard tell that there are over twenty-five hundred islands,
large and small. That's a pretty good place for a ship to hide in, eh?"
"And you reckon the _Peacock_ will go into hiding?"
"More than likely, while these Baxters carry out their little game--that
is, providing your brothers are on board--and I fancy they are. I
can tell ye, I fancy they are a tough crowd all around."
"Well, one comfort, the _Peacock_ won't get very far anywhere
along shore without being spotted, for the police have sent the news to
all principal places."
"Well, that's a good plan. Now if we could only follow that schooner
up--"
"Will you go with me in a hunt? I will willingly pay you for your
services."
"I will. But we ought to have a steam tug instead of a yacht."
"I will charter one. I have already telegraphed to my father for the
necessary funds," returned Dick, and he told the truth. The long
telegram had gone an hour before. He had also sent word to Larry Colby,
telling of the turn of affairs.
The telegram to Mr. Rover brought a characteristic reply, running as
follows:
"I send you the money you want. Be careful and keep out of danger. Will
come on by the first train."
The message to Larry Colby brought that student up to Detroit on the
first train from Sandusky.
"I know just the steam tug you want," said Larry, when the situation
was explained. "It is rum by old Jack Parsons, who knows my father
well. I know he will do all he can for you, if he is paid for his
time."
Larry Colby undertook to hunt up the tug, which was named the
_Rocket_, and found her tied up at one of the city docks. He
introduced Dick, and before the hour was out a bargain was struck with
Jack Parsons which was satisfactory all around. Parsons knew Luke
Peterson, and said he would be glad to have the lumberman along on the
hunt.
"He knows this lake as well as I do, and between us we ought to find
the _Peacock_, sooner or later," said Parsons. He had heard about
the raft disaster on Lake Erie, and was pleased to be able to inform
Peterson that his friend Bragin was safe. The tug, however, which had
been towing the raft, was laid up in Buffalo for repairs.
At first Dick thought to remain in Detroit until his father's arrival,
but then he realized that it would be best for one of them to remain on
shore while the other went on the hunt on the lake.
"We will sail at once," he said to his companions, but this could not
be, since Aleck had not yet provided all of the necessary provisions
for the trip.
While the colored man was completing his arrangements a newsboy came to
Dick with a note, running as follows:
"If you want news of the _Peacock_, and will promise not to harm
me, come with the boy to the old grain elevator. The boy knows the
place."
Dick read the note with interest, and then showed it to Peterson.
"Perhaps it's a trap," said the lumberman. "I wouldn't go alone, if I
were you."
"I will go," answered Dick, "but I wish you would follow me up on the
quiet," and so it was arranged.
When Dick reached the place mentioned he found it practically deserted.
"Who gave you that note?" he asked of the newsboy.
"A man. Here he comes, now."
The newcomer proved to be a lame man, who had in former years been a
sailor. He lived in a shanty behind the grain elevator, and he came to
Dick with difficulty.
"Come into my shanty and I'll tell you what I know," said the lame man.
"I'll not hurt you, so don't be afraid," and he hobbled off again.
Waving his hand to Peterson, who was in the distance, Dick followed the
lame man and sat down on a bench in front of the shanty, the odd
individual seating himself on a stool opposite.
"Want to find Captain Gus Langless, eh?" said the lame man, closing one
eye suggestively.
"Yes."
"I read of the case in the papers. He's a bad un, eh?"
"What do you know of the case?" demanded Dick impatiently. He realized
that he had a decidedly queer individual with whom to deal.
"Know everything; yes, sir, everything. Jock Pelly don't keep his ears
open for nothing, not me. An' I said to myself when I read the papers,
'Jock, you've learned something of value--you must sell the news,' says
I to myself."
"But what do you know?"
"Gettin' to that, sir; gettin' there fast, too. Did you offer a reward
of a hundred dollars?"
"Yes."
"Who's going to pay that amount? It's a pile of money, a hundred
dollars is."
"It will be paid, you can be easy on that point."
"Well, supposin' a man is lame and can't go after those rascals? What
does he git for puttin' somebody on the track?"
"If you put me on the right track, I'll give you fifty dollars."
"Dead certain?"
"Yes. Now where has the _Peacock_ gone to?"
"Needle Point Island," was the abrupt answer. "Go there, an' you'll
find the _Peacock_ and her crew, sure."