Four Prisoners
When the Catwhisker arrived at Friday Island again, the place appeared to
be deserted.
The camp was as they had left it, except that the breakfast dishes were
washed and put away. "Friday" had performed his duty, but both boys had
disappeared, and there seemed to be only one explanation of their
disappearance, namely, the premonition of danger at the hands of the four
strange men that the Rockport amateur, Max, had received from the boys on
the island. No damage had been done to the tent or any of the camp
paraphernalia, even the radio outfit being exactly as it had been when
they left it in charge of Hal and Bud a few hours previously.
"This is getting pretty serious," Mr. Perry said, after they had made an
unsatisfactory review of the situation. "I confess I don't know what to
make of it."
Cub felt an impulse to brand this new affair as the most puzzling mystery
that had yet confronted them, but he checked the utterance wisely enough
as entirely too facetious for the occasion.
"We've got to get the authorities busy on this case," Mr. Perry added
after a few moments' hesitation. "We may be sure now that it's more than
a hazing affair. There must be a retreat of some bad men around here
somewhere."
"What authorities shall we ask to help us?" Cub inquired.
His father seemed about to answer, but he hesitated a moment or two, with
a puzzled look, first at his son, then at Mr. Baker.
"That's so," he said presently. "Where are we--in Canada or the
United States?"
"I think we ought to apply for help in both New York and Ontario," said
Mr. Baker, who was ordinarily a man of quiet demeanor, but now was worked
up to a state of nervous worry over the fate of his son.
"It's going to take some time to make trips to both sides of the river
and get the authorities of New York and Ontario busy," said Mr. Perry;
"but I suppose that's the only thing to do, and every minute wasted is an
opportunity lost. So let's go right away."
"Hold on, father," Cub interrupted; "you forget that we have a means of
calling help right here."
"It won't do to depend on your radio messages" his father replied. "You
know the experience Mr. Baker's son had trying to get help that way."
"Yes, but there were conditions that queered his calls," Cub replied.
"Just remember the results we got by calling our new friend, Max, at
Rockport, and what he did for us. Unless I'm badly mistaken, we can look
for more help from him."
"Yes, you're right, Bob," Mr. Perry admitted. "But I don't like the idea
of staying here and depending on a few boys to take care of so big a
proposition. We need to arouse the whole country around here, including
all people along the shores, on the islands and those boating up and down
the river."
"In other words, there must be some real broadcasting," Cub interpreted.
"You bet you, and more than any amateur radio station in the country can
do. Now, we've wasted too much time already. Come on; we've got to get
started without any more delay."
"But let me stay and see what I can do while you're gone," Cub pleaded.
"I bet I can have a police boat headed this way before you reach the
mainland."
"No, nothing doing," his father ruled unwaveringly. "You'd disappear just
the way the other boys did. We can't afford to run any more such risks."
"I'd be safe enough if you let me have that automatic o' yours, dad,"
Cub argued,
"No, sir-ree; I'm not going to leave you here alone to fight any gun
battle with a band of bandits."
But the boy was still undismayed by his father's resoluteness. He had one
more proposal to offer, and he presented it thus:
"You don't need to leave me here alone, dad. Mr. Baker may stay; you can
run the Catwhisker alone."
Both men had started toward the landing place, expecting the boy to
follow, but they stopped suddenly and faced about on hearing this new
proposition. Mr. Baker looked almost eagerly at Mr. Perry, it seemed,
and, observing that the latter's unyielding attitude had softened
somewhat, he said:
"That's agreeable to me if it is to you."
"Well," returned Mr. Perry with slow deliberation, "that sounds pretty
good. If it suits you both, it suits me. I don't think you'll have to use
the guns, even if any bad actors do happen around. If you show them,
that'll probably be enough. Do you know how to handle an automatic, Bob?"
"Sure I do," the latter replied. "All you have to do is keep the nose
pointed away from you and toward the target you want to hit. To shoot,
you just keep pulling the trigger, and when it's empty you're safe from
accident until you fill the chamber again."
"That's a simple statement of facts," Mr. Perry smiled; "but you left out
the most important of all, and until you tell me what that is, I'm not
going to let you have it."
"Oh, I know what it is; you've told it to me lots of times," Cub replied
with eager alertness. "You know, dad, I always remembered what you told
me, and I didn't forget that advice of yours about fire-arms. It is,
'always handle an unloaded gun as if you know it's loaded.' I promise
you, dad, I'll not forget it this time."
"I guess it's safe to let you have it," said Mr. Perry, handing over the
weapon. "All right, now that everything's settled, I'll be gone and you
two see what you can do through the air."
That ended the discussion, and a few minutes later the owner of the
Catwhisker was putting all the speed he could put into the power boat
toward the Canadian shore, while Cub devoted all his energy and skill to
the task of summoning as much aid as possible by wireless, Mr. Baker
standing by and waiting eagerly for results.
And results were not long coming. The yacht was scarcely out of sight
beyond the outer rim of islands, when Cub recognized the call of Max
Handy, the Canadian amateur at Rockport. He acknowledged the call, and
then telegraphed the following:
"I am the boy whom you met at the depot a few hours ago. When we got
back, we found the two boys we left here were gone."
"I knew something had happened," Max replied. "After I left you I got
their S O S. Then one of them telegraphed that some men had seized his
friend and were coming after him. His last message was broken off in the
midst of a new S O S. I couldn't get him again, I called up the police
and they said they would see it got to the proper authorities for
investigation."
Cub translated this message for the benefit of Mr. Baker and was about to
continue the telegraphic conversation when four men, armed with clubs,
and with anything but friendly demeanor, appeared on the scene. Mr. Baker
saw them first and sounded the alarm.
"Here they come," he said in low tone, the accents of which caused Cub
to start to his feet and reach for his father's pistol which he had laid
on the radio table. "Be careful," the man continued. "Don't shoot unless
I do. Maybe we can get some information from those fellows. Put your gun
in your pocket and don't draw it unless they attack us or you see me
draw mine."
The movement of Cub, transferring the automatic from the table to the
right pocket of his coat, did not escape the notice of the visitors, who
appeared to have come from the wooded depths of the island. But evidently
their uncertain vision left their minds in a condition of doubt as to the
significance of the act, for they continued to advance, however, with
some appearance of caution.
"I'll go forward a few steps to meet them," said Mr. Baker, in a low
voice to Cub. "You stay back here and be careful with your gun. Don't use
it unless you see me use mine; then keep your head. I think we'll be able
to handle this situation without any violence."
He advanced half a dozen paces, then stopped and addressed the unwelcome
visitors, who were now distant from him only about fifteen feet.
"Halt where you are, gentlemen," he said. "We are armed, and any further
advance on your part will be met with the use of our weapons."
The "gentlemen" stopped with due consideration for the warning, but with
scowls that indicated the poor grace of their obedience. A description of
them would mark them as the ones who are heretofore recorded as having
made an unfriendly call on Hal and Bud at the island camp earlier in the
day. The tall, angular man again was spokesman for them.
"What're you fellers doin' on our island?" he demanded, with a deepening
of his scowl.
"I didn't know the island belonged to you," Mr. Baker returned quietly.
"You don't happen to carry a deed to it in your pocket, do you?"
"No, but it's ours, or it belongs to one of us," the angry spokesman
replied. "And we don't intend to allow any trespassing."
"We have no desire to do any trespassing," was the response to this
veiled threat. "But I want to answer you with a clear statement of our
position. We are here with a purpose and we don't intend to be turned
aside from that purpose. To get down to brass tacks, three boys, one of
them my son, have disappeared under remarkable circumstances from this
island, and the indications point directly toward you men as responsible
for their disappearance. What your motive is I have no idea, but you may
be sure that it will be fathomed, and now that we have you in our power,
we don't intend to let you get away from us. We are armed with automatic
pistols that shoot like machine guns and one move either toward or from
us, contrary to order, will start them barking. Now, my instruction to
you is that you drop those clubs and come forward, one at a time, and
allow my companion to search you for weapons."
As he spoke, Mr. Baker drew his pistol from one of his trouser pockets,
and Cub did likewise. Instantly the scowls disappeared from the faces of
the four men and were succeeded by looks suggestive of panic.
"There's no need of any such action by you," said the leader of the
invaders with plaintive whine. "We ain't done nothin' out o' the way. We
did drive those kids off o' the island, but we didn't hurt 'em. They're
all right, and we c'n take you to 'em any time you want to go."
"How could you drive them off of here when they had no boat to go in?"
Mr. Baker demanded.
"Oh, we took 'em in our boat and put 'em on another island. If you'll
agree to go away from here we'll produce those boys and land you anywhere
you want to go."
"Why is it you're so anxious to have us go?" demanded Mr. Baker. "Is
there something going on here that you don't want the authorities to know
anything about?"
This shot seemed to throw confusion into the ranks of the visitors,
judging from the expressions of their countenances. But their spokesman
attempted to brush the inference aside as of no consequence to them by
answering:
"That's foolish. If you think there's anything bad going on here, just
bring on the police and investigate; but we don't intend to have anybody
on these islands who hasn't any right here."
"Very well, we'll make a test of the question of rights so there won't be
any dispute about it hereafter," said Mr. Baker. "Robert, will you call
your friend at Rockport and tell him to send some officers here for four
prisoners, but keep your weather eye on these fellows meanwhile and your
pistol beside you ready for instant use."
Cub did as directed and soon was dot-and-dashing a thrilling message to
Max Handy, who had been waiting apprehensively all this time for an
explanation of the island operator's protracted silence.