Produced by Al Haines









[Transcriber's note: this book contains the short story "Mrs. Stone's
Money-Order."  Its author is unknown.]




[Illustration: Cover art]




[Frontispiece: Jack, crouching there, with one elbow resting on his
knee, took as good an aim as the conditions allowed]




Motor Boat Boys

Down the Coast

Or

_Through Storm and Stress to Florida_



By


LOUIS ARUNDEL


Author of "Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence," "Motor Boat Boys
Cruise Down the Mississippi," "Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes,"
"Motor Boat Boys Among the Florida Keys"





Chicago

M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY




Copyright 1913

by

M. A. DONOHUE & CO.

CHICAGO




CONTENTS


CHAPTER

     I.  AFLOAT ON THE LOWER DELAWARE
    II.  A GOOD OMEN FOR THE START
   III.  JACK TAKES A HYDRO-AEROPLANE MESSAGE
    IV.  THE FIRST CAMP FIRE ASHORE
     V.  A STORM, AND NO REFUGE IN SIGHT
    VI.  A CLOSE SHAVE, BUT NO DAMAGE DONE
   VII.  HOW THE MOTOR BOAT FLOTILLA WENT TO SEA
  VIII.  THE CAMP INVADED
    IX.  THE DESPERATION OF HUNGER
     X.  NICK IN SEARCH OF A MERMAID
    XI.  A STUNNING DISCOVERY
   XII.  THE CAMP UNDER CAPE CHARLES LIGHT
  XIII.  A SHOUT AT MIDNIGHT
   XIV.  NICK BAGS HIS GAME
    XV.  A WARM WELCOME TO THE STORMY CAPE
   XVI.  THE WIRELESS AS TRICKY AS EVER
  XVII.  GOODBYE TO AN ANCHOR
 XVIII.  A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS
   XIX.  THE MESSAGE OF HOPE
    XX.  MEETING TROUBLE HALF WAY
   XXI.  FOG BOUND WHILE AT SEA
  XXII.  SAVANNAH AT LAST
 XXIII.  THANKS TO THE PILOT--CONCLUSION




MOTOR BOAT BOYS SERIES


  THE MOTOR CLUB'S CRUISE DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI
  THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER
  THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE GREAT LAKES
  MOTOR BOAT BOYS AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS
  MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE COAST
  MOTOR BOAT BOYS RIVER CHASE
  MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE DANUBE




THE MOTOR BOAT BOYS

DOWN THE COAST;

or

Through Storm and Stress to Florida


CHAPTER I.

AFLOAT ON THE LOWER DELAWARE.

"Toot your horn, Jimmy, and let everybody know we're off at last!"

"Sure, there's the ould _Wireless_ coming up on us, hand over fist.
It's a broth of a bhoy George Rollins is for speed!"

"Yes, he always starts out well, and with a rush; but generally manages
to have his engine break down; and then even the wide old tub _Comfort_
gets there ahead of the narrow speed boat.  Now give 'em a blast,
Jimmy.  The coast cruise is on!"

Accordingly, Jimmy Brannigan, who served as cook and crew aboard the
staunch motor boat _Tramp_, some twenty-three feet in length by six
feet wide (the boat, not Jimmy), and with Jack Stormways as pilot,
puffed out his cheeks and blew.

It was a necessary method for sounding the conch shell horn, which, if
blown like a bugle, would send out a screech that could be heard a mile
away.

Answering toots came from the two other crafts that had just left
Philadelphia astern, and were heading down the old Delaware River,
bound for Florida.

Here were six of the happiest young chaps on the face of the globe;
and, indeed, how could they help it?  Blessed with good health; three
of them owning motor boats that had served them now for two seasons,
and with stores aboard for a "bully" voyage down the Atlantic coast,
taking the inland passage, what more could the heart of a real boy,
with red blood in his veins, sigh for!

These six lads lived in a town "out Mississippi way."  They had long
ago ceased to be novices in the management of motor boats, and the
great benefit they seemed to have secured from previous trips on the
water, both down the wonderful Mississippi and on the Great Lakes, had
convinced their fathers that they were to be trusted under any and all
conditions.

Hence, when a calamity befell the high school of their native place,
which all of them attended, fire destroying the main part of the
building, so that there could be no session until some time after
Christmas, and a brilliant scheme dawned upon the mind of Jack
Stormways, they were not long in convincing those who controlled their
destinies that the opportunity for a run down the Atlantic coast before
winter set in, with possibly a similar cruise along the Mexican gulf to
New Orleans, was too good to be lost.

And so they had come to Philadelphia, with this object in view.

As to the money part--for it takes a heap of cash to transport three
motor boats a thousand miles and more by fast freight--that was the
easiest part of the programme.

It happened that the treasury of the Motor Boat Club was quite flush at
that particular time.  On one of their former cruises, up on the Great
Lakes, and in the vicinity of the Thousand Islands, these lads had been
instrumental in bringing to justice a set of rogues, for whose
apprehension a large reward had been offered by the authorities.

That sum, with others picked up in various ways, had been lying at
interest all this while.  They had intended using it for their next
cruise, no matter where that might happen to take them.

Various indeed had been the suggestions made from time to time; and
some of them bordering on the ridiculous.  Strange to say, it was Nick
Longfellow, the companion of George Rollins on the narrow beam speed
boat _Wireless_, who gave utterance to most of these absurd
propositions.

Nick was fat, and a tremendous eater.  As a rule he could not be said
to be at all bold by nature; and yet he declared that nothing would
please him half so much as that they explore the Orinoco River in South
America, and discover things never before known by white people.

Then there had been Josh Purdue, the tall and thin assistant of Herbert
Dickson on the beamy and steady if slow _Comfort_, who wanted them to
lose themselves for an entire month in the depths of the swampy country
to be found along the St. Francis River.

But when Jack sprung his sensation about the long trip down the coast,
and around to New Orleans, it took like wildfire, and every other idea
was speedily forgotten.  Preparations were hurried, the boats shipped,
and later on the boys turned up in Philadelphia, where they found their
craft waiting for them.

And now, here they were, at noon on this late September day, with the
prows of their beloved boats turned toward the south, and plowing the
waters of the Delaware, the Quaker City left far astern.

Doubtless many aboard the bustling tugs, and the vessels that came and
went, smiled as they heard the merry tooting of horns exchanged between
the three little power boats that were speeding along toward the wider
reaches of the lower river.

They easily guessed that the boys had a good time ahead of them; but
truth to tell not one could have imagined the extent of the voyage upon
which the Motor Boat Club had now set out, with so confident a mien.

Taken as a whole, a merrier set of young chaps could hardly have been
assembled than the six who constituted this same club.  They had, of
course, their faults; but by now they were so accustomed to each
other's society that seldom was a discordant note heard.

Jokes abounded, tricks were sometimes played, and accepted with good
nature; and without exception the boys had become very fond of each
other.

For instance, there was stout roly-poly Nick, who could never tear his
mind away from his favorite subject of eating, and whom thin and
cadaverous Josh liked to tantalize whenever the occasion offered,
because he himself, while a great cook, seldom found much appetite for
his own messes, being troubled from time to time with indigestion.

Then Jimmy, who, it can easily be understood, had sprung from the
rollicking Irish race, possessed a fine voice, as sweet as that of any
girl; and many the time did he beguile an evening at the campfire with
his songs and his clever dancing.  Jimmy, by the way, happened to have
a fiery thatch, a multitude of freckles, and upon occasions lapsed into
the brogue of his ancestors, although he could talk as well as the
others when he chose.

George had the speed mania.  This had developed early in his career,
for his one delight was to outstrip others in a race.  Consequently,
when he had his boat built, he sacrificed lots of things to have it
narrow in beam, and naturally it was anything but a pleasure to be
aboard the cranky craft.

His mate, Nick, had suffered in the past from this condition of
affairs; and the log of former cruises would show that he had met with
more than one mishap because it was necessary to perfectly balance the
_Wireless_ at all times.  Poor Nick often declared that if he chanced
to fail to part his hair directly in the middle, trouble was sure to
follow.

The _Comfort_, as its name would indicate, had been fashioned on just
the opposite plan, and speed was the last thing considered.  They made
all manner of fun of Herbert's boat, and called it such derogatory
names as "The Tub" and "The Ark"; but all the same, when hurry was not
an object, those aboard certainly had the best of the controversy.  And
then the quick-going boats always had to wait for Herb and his
"life-raft," so they did not gain anything in the end.

Then about the third craft, called the _Tramp_, and owned by the
recognized leader of the sextette, Jack Stormways.  It united the good
qualities of both the other boats in that it was fast and at the same
time steady.  While on occasion the cigar-shaped _Wireless_ could leave
Jack in the lurch, and the beamy _Comfort_ give more elbow room, taken
as a whole the _Tramp_ was the ideal cruiser; and both the other
skippers knew it away down in their secret hearts, though always ready
to stand up for their own boats.

It was close on the beginning of October when they made their start
from the City of Brotherly Love.  For some time they would have to
dodge the many vessels that were moving hither and thither before the
busy port; but later in the afternoon they could expect to have clearer
weather, where the river widened out, with the shores farther apart.

For once George moderated his pace, and hovered near the others.  He
felt so joyous over the sensation of being once more afloat, and with
such a glorious voyage ahead, that he wanted to be where he could
exchange remarks with his chums, and hear what they thought.

George had been doing considerable pottering with his engine lately.
He claimed that he had been able to increase its speed several miles an
hour.

"Wait till I get a good chance to show you, fellows," he now remarked,
with a satisfied air; "why, I expect to make rings around your blooming
old _Tramp_, Jack; and as for "The Ark," why, it'll be figure eights
for hers."

"Wow! don't I just see my finish, then," wailed poor, fat Nick, shaking
his head sorrowfully.  "The vibration always was just fierce, and now
it'll just rattle me, so I'll be only skin and bones.  You'll be
calling me the Living Skeleton before we ever get to Jacksonville, I
bet you, boys."

"Oh, when it gets so you just can't stand it any longer, call on Josh
here to change off with you, like he did once before," laughed Herbert.
"Josh is built on the order of a match, and seems to be especially
suited for a narrow-beam boat."

But the party mentioned did not seem to like the prospect any better
than Nick, to judge from the protest he immediately put out.

"Me to stick to the _Comfort_, fellows.  One thing sure, if you are
last, you always know where you're at; and that's what I never did when
on that broncho of a _Wireless_.  Why, it threw me twice; and souse I
went into the drink."

"But just think, Josh," insinuated cunning Nick, "all this shaking
would be the best thing ever for that indigestion of yours.  It rattles
up the liver, and does a heap of good.  I don't need that sort of
thing, you see.  Last time you bunked with George you know you improved
a hundred per cent."

"Huh! mebbe," grunted Josh, "but it wasn't worth it, I tell you."

"Look at that tug bucking up against the tide, will you?" exclaimed
George just then--being humiliated by all this talk about the cranky
qualities of his pet, and anxious to call their attention elsewhere in
order to change the subject.

"Must be a greenhorn at the wheel, or else the fellow's had more drink
than he had ought to tackle," declared Nick.

"He sure does wobble a heap," admitted Jack, keeping a wary eye on the
approaching craft, lest it foul his own boat, and bring sudden disaster
on the cruise which had begun so auspiciously.  "But perhaps that's a
trick these river pilots have when heading up into an ebb tide.  They
know all the wrinkles of the game, I guess, and how to save themselves
from wasted efforts."

"Say, that rowboat had better look out; if he makes a quick turn with
the tug he's apt to run the little punkin seed down," George declared,
with a note of anxiety in his voice; for he was nervous by nature, as
his love for racing and making high speed would indicate.

"That pilot must be watching us all the time, wondering whatever we're
heading for down the river, because the duck shooting below isn't on
yet.  There! he's swung about again!  I hope he don't knock that
rowboat galley west!" called Herbert.

"Hey! look to your starboard--you're running down a boat!" shouted
Jack, dropping his wheel for three seconds in order to make a speaking
trumpet with both hands.

There was a brief interval of suspense.  Then came a plain crash,
accompanied by loud shouts, and more or less excitement aboard the tug
that was heading up river way.

"He did it!" bellowed Josh, fairly wild with eagerness.  "Oh!  I'm
afraid the poor fellow will be drowned before that tug can come about
and go to his rescue.  Turn your bally old tub, Herb, can't you?  It
takes a whole day for you to get around."

"No use of our trying it," declared the skipper of the big roomy
_Comfort_, calmly, for nothing could start Herb out of his customary
condition of mental poise, because he is as steady in his way as his
boat; "he'd be drowned twice over before we reached him.  Besides,
there goes Jack in his _Tramp_, shooting straight for the smashed
rowboat.  Unless the poor fellow was injured and has already sank our
chum will get him all right, Josh."

"That's right," declared Josh.  "George has gone and got flustrated, so
that he turned the wrong way; but if anybody can save that fellow it's
Jack Stormways.  Oh!  I hope he does it, because I'll take it as a good
sign that our new voyage down the coast is going to have a lucky start!"




CHAPTER II.

A GOOD OMEN FOR THE START.

Jack Stormways was always prepared.  He never lost his head in an
emergency, for which more than one of his chums had had reason to be
thankful in times past.  So, on the present occasion, when he saw that
the tug could not make a complete circuit against the running tide and
reach the wrecked rowboat in time to be of any assistance to the
unfortunate who had been hurled into the Delaware, Jack instantly
headed the little motor boat for the spot.

"Get up in the bow with you, Jimmy, quick now, and take the boathook
along!  I'll slow down when we get there; and perhaps you can grab him
in!" the skipper called out.

Accustomed to obeying, Jimmy made haste to snatch up the implement
mentioned, and which had many the time proved its value in recovering
things that had been swept overboard in a wind storm.

Then he hurried to gain a position near the bow of the boat, where he
crouched, after making sure of his footing, so as to guard against a
shock when he clapped the boathook into the clothing of the drowning
man.

"I see him, Jack!" he bawled immediately.  "He's holding to the boat,
so he is!"

"All right, Jimmy," echoed the skipper, calmly; "I glimpsed him before
you did, I reckon.  Steady yourself now, and try not to make a foozle
of it, old man.  There you are.  Jimmy; get him!"

And Jimmy did the same, catching the coat of the man in the water with
his boathook, and holding on tenaciously.  Jack, meanwhile, turned his
engine backward, so that the momentum of the boat was promptly checked.

The man had been clinging to the rapidly sinking wreckage.  In another
half minute, no doubt, he would have been left without any support; and
as he did not seem able to swim a stroke, his end must have speedily
come.

Jimmy drew in with the haft of the boat-hook, until he could stretch
down and seize upon the collar of the man's coat.  As the Irish lad was
brawny and nerved just then to mighty deeds, he managed to hoist the
fellow into the little motor boat.

The unlucky man was white, and pretty nearly drowned.  He had just had
enough sense to cling desperately to the wreck of his boat, and then
allow Jimmy to do the rescue act.

"Did you get hurt when that tug struck your boat?" asked Jack, for that
was what he feared.

The man was blinking at him, for his eyes had taken in more or less of
the brackish water of the river; but he shook his head in the negative.
This relieved Jack more than a little.  Like Josh, he had been hoping
that in the very beginning of their new cruise a wet blanket might not
be cast over the spirits of the party by their witnessing the drowning
of a poor chap.

"Here comes the tug down after us," remarked Jimmy.  "I suppose the
omadhauns 'll be expressing their regrets for the accident.  Sure, it
was criminal carelessness, if ever there was a case.  And ye'll be
silly, sor, if so be ye don't make 'em pay for the boat they smashed."

By degrees the man seemed to come out of the half stupor into which his
sudden immersion in the waters of the river had thrown him.

"They just got to," he grumbled, shaking his head; "for 'twas a
borrowed boat, an' I can't pay for a new one."

"We'll try and see you through," said Jack.  "If they think we're ready
to tell what we saw, they'll not only pay you good damages, but take
you ashore in the bargain."

"That's the ticket!" declared Jimmy, quite taken with the idea of
frightening the captain of the tug into doing the right thing by his
victim.

Presently the tug came alongside, and an anxious voice called out:

"Was he much hurt, boys?  I'm sorry it happened.  Second accident of
the week, and such things don't do a man's reputation as a pilot any
good."

"Well," replied Jack, promptly, "suppose you whack up for his boat, and
a suit of clothes for the man; then take him ashore, and none of us
will say a word about the accident, as you call it, but which looked
mighty like criminal carelessness to us."

There was a brief interval of silence, during which the two men in the
wheel-house of the tug seemed to be conferring.

"How much does he want, my lad?" asked one, presently thrusting his
head and shoulders out, so that Jack could have almost shaken hands had
he wished.

"The boat ought to be worth fifteen dollars; and say ten more to get
him a new suit.  That's letting you down easy, my friend," called the
skipper of the _Tramp_.

"Oh, well, I guess I'll have to stand it, though I don't believe the
old tub was worth five.  Here you are, bub; and if you chuck the feller
across to us, we'll dry him off, and land him somewhere above."

Jack eagerly took the proffered bills, and thrust them into the hand of
the man who had been so happily rescued.

"Here you are, and good luck to you," he said, cheerily.  "Do you think
you can get aboard the tug now, my man?"

The other had gripped the several bank bills eagerly; but at the same
time a look of caution came into his eyes.

"Say, mister, can't you manage to drop me ashore somewhere below here?"
he asked, in a hoarse whisper.

"Well, it wouldn't be altogether convenient," replied Jack, hesitating;
and then as he saw the pilot of the tugboat watching them, with a grin
on his face, a sudden realization as to what the rescued man feared
broke in upon him.

"They might make me give it back again, ye see, after I got dried off,"
continued the poor fellow, who evidently had not held so much money in
his hand for many a long day.

"By George! that's so!" Nick was heard to exclaim; for the _Wireless_
had crept up, and now lay right alongside the _Tramp_.

Jack was quick to make a decision, and as a rule his first thought was
the right one, too.

"I'll land you myself!" he declared, sturdily; "it won't take much
time.  And I guess a good deed done in the beginning of the voyage
ought to bring us luck to pull out of many a bad hole."

Then raising his voice and addressing the man at the wheel of the tug,
Jack continued:

"We'll set him ashore below, Captain.  You see, he doesn't want to ride
up to the city; neither do you prefer to have him go.  It's all right;
we'll say nothing of what we saw to anybody.  So long, Captain!"

And without waiting for an answer Jack simply started his motor, upon
which the _Tramp_ shot away from the tug.  Looking back, Jack saw the
two men conferring, but he felt sure they would allow things to rest.

"That negligence cost him twenty-five dollars, you see, Jimmy; and
perhaps he'll keep his eyes about him after this, when he's on the
move.  It's lucky for him, as well as for our friend here, that a human
life was not snuffed out in the bargain."

"And do we head for the shore now, Jack?" queried the mate and cook.

"As soon as I find out which side the wrecked mariner wants to land
on," replied the skipper, turning to his passenger.

"Just suit yourself, sir," spoke up the man, into whose face the color
was once more beginning to creep, as he looked frequently at the wad of
greenbacks, which he continued to caress with his fingers, as though
the very feel of them did his heart good.

"But which side do you live on?" persisted Jack, wishing to do the best
he could for the fellow.

"Well, now, I live over in Jersey, near Bridgeport," said the man; "but
I was goin' across to Lamokin in Pennsylvania, on a chance to get work.
So if you'll put me ashore anywhere below here, I can walk up the
railroad track to the junction."

Jack immediately headed shoreward.

"Take things easy, fellows, and we'll catch up with you before you've
gone many miles," he called out to those in the other boats, since
there seemed no necessity for all of them to leave the middle of the
river just to land one man.

It was no trouble to get close in on the Pennsylvania shore; the case
might have been different over in Jersey, where they could see that
marshland abounded at this point.

"Here you are; just step ashore on that rock; and good luck with you,
friend!" Jack sang out, as Jimmy piloted the boat alongside a section
of the shore, using his favorite boat-hook in so doing.

"Shake hands first, please, young sir," said the other, who appeared to
be a decent working man, for his palms were calloused with toil.  "You
sure done me a mighty good turn this day.  I might a-died out there,
only for the way you come to the rescue.  I won't forget it in a hurry,
I tell you."

"Well, pass it along then," laughed Jack, grasping the other's hand at
the same time.  "Perhaps you'll run across some poor chap who's worse
off than you are.  Give him a helping hand, and we'll call the thing
squared."

"I will, just as sure as I live, I will, that.  It's a good idea, too.
And after gettin' me this money, I reckon ye saved it for me, by takin'
me ashore.  That tugboat captain looked like he'd a-made me fork over
agin, once he had me aboard his craft."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were right," assented Jack.  "Shake
hands with Jimmy too, while you're about it, friend.  He yanked you in
like a good fellow.  If your life was saved, Jimmy had a hand in it."

After this ceremony had been carried out, the man managed to get
ashore.  Then the boathook was brought into use again to push off; and
a minute or two later they were chugging along down-stream, heading
once more toward the middle of the broadening river.

Jimmy waved to the man several times, until finally they lost sight of
him as he gained the railroad track, and started north.

"Anyway, that was a good beginning, Jimmy," remarked Jack, in a
satisfied tone.

"It sure was, for that bog-trotter," chuckled the other.  "His ould
boat wasn't worth more'n five dollars, as the tug captain sez, an' here
he sells it for three toimes the sum.  His clothes'll be dry on his
back before an hour, in this warm sun; an' he has a noice tin dollars
to buy new garments wid.  It's the luckiest day av his life, so it is."

"Well, I rather think that adventure did net him a cool twenty,"
laughed Jack.  "Not so bad for a dip in the river."

"He naded a bath, too, so he did," declared Jimmy.  "An, mark my word,
he'd be willing to kape it up all the blissed day at the same price, so
he would.  Now we're safe out from the rocks along the shore, why not
hit her up, an' overhaul the rist av the bunch, Jack?"

"Right you are, and here goes," sang out the other.  "Take the wheel,
Jimmy, and look out for anything in the way.  I want to watch how the
engine works.  You know, George wasn't the only one who overhauled his
motor after our fun this last summer."

"She is makin' better toime than she iver did in her whole blissed
life!" cried the delighted Jimmy, presently, after Jack had been
working at the engine a spell.  "Be the powers!  I do belave we kin
give George a race for his money nixt toime he challenges us, so I do.
Hurroo! we're flyin' over the wather, Jack!"

"Less talk, and keep your eyes in front of you!" called the other.  "If
you get as careless as that tugboat man, we'll be smashing into
something, too.  And then good-bye to all our hopes for a jolly voyage
down the coast."

"Aw! 'tis me that is boring the wather with me eyes all the toime, Jack
dear; and never a thing as could escape me aigle vision.  I'm a broth
of bhoy when it comes to steering a boat, do ye mind."

The stream was wide, and there were far less vessels moving up or down
than had been the case above, so that, just as Jimmy declared, it was
an easy job to keep clear of obstructions.

Jack had become intensely interested in the splendid working of his
reconstructed motor.  He was watching its pulsations, and experimenting
in many little ways, in order to find out just how to get the maximum
of speed from it.

And then, all at once, he heard Jimmy give utterance to an exclamation
that might be freighted with either curiosity or alarm--perhaps both.

Hardly knowing what to expect, the skipper of the little _Tramp_
struggled to his knees, and then drew himself erect, to make a
discovery that thrilled him through and through.




CHAPTER III.

JACK TAKES A HYDRO-AEROPLANE MESSAGE.

"Oh! murder! what a big birrd!" Jimmy was crying out.

A shadow had fallen upon the water close by, and the distant cries of
the other young motor boat boys could be faintly heard.  Jack, looking
hastily up, saw a strange thing that had extended wings like a monster
bird, apparently swooping down toward the surface of the wide river.

Of course he knew that it was an up-to-date flying machine, and the
presence of aluminum pontoons under the body of the contrivance also
told him that for the first time in his life he was looking at a
hydro-aeroplane, capable of alighting on the water and starting up
again, after the manner of a wild duck.

Even as the two in the _Tramp_ stared, the queer contrivance skipped
along the surface of the Delaware, sending the water in spray on either
side.  Then it seemed to settle contentedly there, not ten feet away
from the motor boat.

There was a young fellow squatted in the seat where the various levers
could be controlled.  He was dressed after some odd fancy of his own,
calculated to serve in the cool air of the upper strata.  To Jimmy the
vision was very startling.

"Why, say, it's a real birdman after all, Jack!" he cried, as though he
had only discovered this remarkable fact after the machine had come to
a stop close by.

The aviator laughed aloud.

"What did you think it was, young fellow, an old-time roc come back to
life?" he called out; waving a hand at them cheerfully.

Jack had shut off the engine at the time he heard the first exclamation
from his teammate, and at this time they were hardly more than moving
with the ebb tide, so that in reality the boat drew closer to the
hydro-aeroplane with each passing second.

"You gave us a little start, that's all," laughed Jack.  "Of course, I
knew what it was as soon as I saw the pontoons underneath.  They seem
to do the trick first rate, too.  Seems to me I'd like to sail in one
of those things, if I ever had the chance."

"It's a great experience, all right," replied the aviator; "but the way
things are going right now, only a very few fellows are fitted for the
work.  But are you in company with those other two jolly little boats
way off yonder?"

"That's right," sang out Jimmy, determined to have his little say with
the bold navigator of the upper currents; "we're all chums, an' it's
the Motor Boat Club we do be represinting.  Along the coast we're
bound, on a long cruise, by the same token."

The young fellow appeared interested at once.

"Say, that's nice," he remarked.  "I bet you'll have a bully good time
of it, too.  Headed up or down, may I ask?"

He sat there, as much at his ease as though on an ocean steamer,
instead of a frail little machine that sprawled upon the heaving waves
very much as Jack had seen a big "darning needle," known also as a
"mosquito hawk," do on occasion.

"Florida, by the inside route, and then perhaps along the gulf to New
Orleans," replied the skipper of the _Tramp_, in as careless a voice as
he could command, just as though a voyage that might cover a thousand
or two miles was hardly worth mentioning.

The owner of the hydro-aeroplane whistled, to indicate his surprise.
His whole manner showed the keen interest he immediately took in such a
glorious prospect; and Jack guessed instantly from this that he
possessed the true love for outdoor life and sport.

"That's simply immense," remarked the other, with what might seem like
an envious sigh.  "I can see where your little crowd have a mighty fine
time ahead.  Wish I could get off to accompany you; but even if I had
an invite, my contracts with the company would not allow me.  But later
on I am to give some exhibitions in the South; and wouldn't it be
strange now if we happened to meet up with each other again?"

Jack rather liked his looks, and of course immediately expressed the
hope that circumstances might throw them together again some fine day.

"I'd be glad to see more of you, and learn something about your
experiences, for ten to one you've seen some rough times in your air
journeys," he remarked, as he leaned on the side of the _Tramp's_
cabin, and let his wondering eyes travel over the peculiar mechanism of
the queer air and water craft combined.

"Well, rather," smiled the other, nodding his head in a friendly way,
as though possibly he had been taken just as much by the frank and
fearless face of the motor boat skipper as Jack was by his countenance
and bearing.  "Might I ask what your names are, in case we ever do run
together again?"

He had a notebook and pencil in his hands while speaking, and Jack
quite willing to oblige, called off the roster of the Motor Boat Club,
with the names of the three craft included.

"This is a great pleasure to me, I give you my word, Jack," remarked
the young fellow, as he thrust the memorandum book once more in his
pocket.  "Never dreamed of such good luck when I took a notion to swoop
down, and see what three bully little craft were doing, headed for
Delaware Bay.  Going all the way to Florida, you say; and by the inside
passage, too?  I wonder, now, would that happen to take you in the
neighborhood of Beaufort, North Carolina?"

An eager expression had suddenly flashed across his face, and Jack saw
his eyes sparkle, as with anticipation; though for the life of him he
could not understand just why this should be so, unless the said
Beaufort happened to have been the home port of the hydro-aeroplane
flier, and the mere thought of their being in that vicinity gave him a
homesick thrill.

"Why, yes, I remember that I've got Beaufort marked on the chart as one
of our stopping places," Jack hastened to reply.  "Could I do anything
for you while there?  I'd be quite willing to oblige you--er, by the
way, you haven't told us your name in return for having ours!"

"That's a fact, I haven't," he replied, quickly, but Jack thought with
just a trifle of embarrassment; "it's Malcolm Spence."

"Oh!  I believe I've read a lot about your doings with one of these air
and water fliers.  There were some pretty stirring accounts of your
trips in the papers out our way not long ago!" Jack exclaimed, looking
at the young fellow with considerable admiration; since hero worship
has just as strong a hold upon the human heart in these modern days as
in times of old, when knights went forth to do battle with dragons, and
all kinds of terrible monsters.

"I believe they have been showing me up, more or less; but I try to
avoid those newspaper men all I can, because they stretch things so,"
young Spence modestly remarked.  "That's why I come down here to try
out any new little wrinkle I may happen to have hit on.  A week ago I
started off the deck of a Government war vessel, a big cruiser, went up
a thousand feet, dropped to the water, and last of all landed again in
the same place from which I started--all to prove how valuable a
hydro-aeroplane would be in case of real war."

"Yes, I was reading about that while we were on the way here, but
somehow didn't remember the name of the one who had done it," Jack went
on, while the little motor boat and the new-fangled contraption that
seemed perfectly at home in the air or floating on the waves kept
company on the tide of the river.

"Did I understand you to say that you would be willing to do me a
little favor, if it didn't put you to much inconvenience?" asked
Spence, his voice trembling with an eagerness that Jack could not help
noticing.

"Certainly we will, if it lies in our power," he answered promptly.

"They never was a more obliging gossoon in the wide worrld than this
same Jack Stormways, and ye can depind on that!" exploded Jimmy,
thinking it about time he injected his personality into the
conversation, since he did not wish to be an utter nonentity.

Malcolm Spence thrust a hand into his tightly buttoned leather coat.
When he brought it out Jack saw that it held what looked like a small
packet, which, after all, might be a letter, though it was sealed.

"I wanted to get this to a party by the name of Van Arsdale Spence," he
said, hurriedly, as though afraid that they might back out after all
from their kind proposition; "but I knew he no longer lived in
Beaufort, and I had no means of finding his present address.  So,
instead of mailing it, I have carried the thing around with me for
three weeks, intending when I went South to make inquiries and send it
to his new address, if so be he was far away."

"All right, then," declared Jack, stretching out his hand promptly;
"I'll promise to do everything in my power to get it into his
possession.  Failing, you must give me some address through which I can
reach you, to tell you it was no go."

"Here's my card, with the address of the makers of this machine.  A
letter will always get to me if sent in their care, because, you see,
I'm under a three years' contract to exhibit this invention, and add
new ideas of my own.  But I do hope you may be able to find the party.
I'd like that packet to fall into his hands as soon as possible.  Too
much time has already been lost.  Please keep it safe, will you, Jack?"

The skipper of the _Tramp_ accepted the little packet in a serious
manner that no doubt impressed the other favorably.

"Depend on me to do my level best for you; that's all any fellow could
promise, Mr. Spence," he said, simply, as he stowed the article away in
an inside pocket of his coat.

"Shake hands, please, both of you!" exclaimed the birdman, heartily,
stretching across the little gap that separated him from the motor
boat; "I only wish it had been my good fortune to meet up with you
earlier."

The formality of shaking hands was concluded with more or less
difficulty, owing to the fact that the wings of the aeroplane extended
far on either side, and kept the boat off; but in the end they managed
fairly well, though the eager Jimmy came near falling overboard in his
ambitious stretching, deeming it a great honor to have pressed the hand
of one about whom there was so much being printed in the papers.

"Good luck go with you, boys!" called out the young aviator, as he
prepared to once more leave the surface of the water, and soar aloft
into airy space.  "Give my regards to Herbert, Josh, George and Nick,
and tell them I hope some day in the near future to make their personal
acquaintance.  I'm sure you must be a jolly bunch; and what glorious
times you have ahead!  And I also hope you get track of the party that
packet is addressed to, Jack; it means much to me, I tell you."

"I'll do everything in my power to find him, and give it personally
into his hands, Malcolm, I promise you.  Shall I tell him how queerly
we met?" Jack went on.

"Yes, and how some blessed inspiration caused me to believe there was
more than accident about our coming together, with you just on the way
down South by the coast route.  So long, fellows; and again the best of
luck to you all."

"Same to you!" called Jimmy, as he heard the motor of the
hydro-aeroplane begin to whirr, and saw the strange contrivance start
to spin along the little waves, once more sending the spray on either
side.

Then it began to rise in the air with perfect freedom.  They saw the
daring young aviator wave his hand in parting as he sped away, circling
upwards until he was hundreds of feet aloft, and constantly gaining.

"Wow! wouldn't that make ye wink, now, Jack darlint?" exclaimed Jimmy,
as he twisted his neck badly in the endeavor to follow the course of
the wonderful machine that seemed as much at home in one element as the
other.

Jack made no reply.

He was bending down to start his own motor once more, and upon his face
there might have been seen an expression that told of mingled
resolution and curiosity.  Yes, he would do everything possible to
deliver this strange missive that Malcolm Spence had entrusted to his
care, apparently on the impulse of the moment; at the same time Jack
would not have been human, and a boy, had he not experienced more or
less wonder as to what that same communication might contain.

But the mystery was one that must remain such to the end of the
chapter, since the deep sense of honor that always went with his
actions would positively prevent his trying to ascertain what that
sealed packet contained.

"Hey! get busy there, Jimmy!" he called out; "we're going to start
again, and make for the other boats.  They've pulled up, and are
waiting for us to join them.  And, believe me, those fellows are just
eating their heads off with envy, because they must have seen that we
were hobnobbing with a real birdman, who could scoot along the water as
easily as a flying-fish.  All ready, are you?  Then here she goes,
Jimmy," and immediately the merry hum of the motor sounded.




CHAPTER IV.

THE FIRST CAMPFIRE ASHORE.

"Ahoy there, _Tramp_!  What's all this mean?"

That was George hailing through his megaphone, as Jack and Jimmy drew
near the spot where the other boats were waiting.

Jack simply waved his hand, to indicate that all in good time the other
fellows would hear the news; and that he did not mean to strain his
voice shouting across a stretch of water, when there was no necessity.

Presently the three craft were moving along abreast, down the river,
and only a little distance apart.  It might be noticed that while the
_Wireless_ hung on the starboard quarter, the _Comfort_ was just as
near on the port side; and thus conversation was made easy.

"Now spin us the yarn, partner," spoke up impatient George, who did
everything in a hurry, though a mighty good comrade all the same.

"Yes," broke in Nick, who was also in the same narrow boat, as usual
gripping the sides, as though to steady his fat form; "believe me,
fellows, we're consumed with curiosity to know what that chap in the
aeroplane wanted with you."

"Say," came from the lanky Josh, squatted in the roomy _Comfort_, with
his long legs doubled up under him, after the manner of a Turk; "what
d'ye think, Jack, Nick here kinder expected to see you toddle aboard
that hydroplane, and take a spin up among the clouds.  Said 'twould be
just like your luck to get hold of such a bully chance."

"Well, hardly," laughed Jack.  "But we did make the acquaintance of a
pretty fine young fellow, the same we've been reading about so much
lately--Malcolm Spence."

"Oh, say! why couldn't we have been along?" grunted George,
disconsolately; "for if ever there was a fellow I'd give a heap to meet
up with, he's the one.  It's a shame, next door to a crime, that we got
left out of the deal.  But go on, Jack, old chum, and tell us all he
said."

Jack accordingly proceeded to do so.  He was frequently interrupted by
Jimmy, who fancied that he was neglecting some important feature of the
story.  Between them everything was presently told.  And the other four
hung upon the narration to the last word.

"Let's see that queer old packet, Jack," said Herb.

"That's so; give us a squint at it, anyhow," Nick demanded.

So the skipper of the _Tramp_ took the letter out carefully and held it
up.

"Excuse me for not passing it around, fellows," he remarked, "but I
gave my word it shouldn't go out of my possession until I'd found the
party mentioned.  From the way the young chap acted, I guess it must be
more or less valuable, to him and this same party, anyhow."

"What is the name on the envelope--you can tell me that, can't you?"
asked Josh.

"Van Arsdale Spence," replied the bearer of the missive, as he just as
carefully replaced it in his pocket.

"Hey! that's the same last name as his, ain't it?" remarked George.

"Spence--yes, and it may be some relation of his, perhaps a brother or
father.  But, fellows, that's none of our business, remember.  Now,
let's talk of other things, and forget that little adventure for a
time."

Jack generally had his way, and in this case his chums realized that he
was certainly right.  So they started talking about their immediate
plans for the first night out.

"We'll go ashore if we can, boys, and build a rousing fire," said Nick,
whose one great delight, outside of eating, was seeing a bonfire burn;
and, indeed, he always declared some of his remote ancestors must have
been real fire worshippers.

"Yes, that would be a good idea," Jack admitted.  "There's no telling
how often on this trip we'll find ourselves forced to eat and sleep
aboard, so when the opportunity offers we might as well get out to
stretch our legs."

"Great scheme," declared Josh, who, being considerably longer than any
one of his shipmates, suffered more in consequence of cramped quarters.

"Only one thing wrong," grunted Nick, shaking his head.

"I can guess he's thinking of eating right now," flashed Josh, who knew
the symptoms in his companion only too well.

"Well, Mister Smarty, for once you hit the nail on the head," grinned
the fat boy.  "I just happened to think of something we hadn't ought to
have forgotten to fetch along for our first meal."

"What was that?" demanded Jack.

"Why, when I looked over that list of things you got up, Jack, blessed
if there was anything else I could think of," said George; "but it
takes my mate here to have 'em all in his mind, even if he can't cook
like Josh."

"Let's hear what we forgot, then, Nick!" demanded Herb.

"Oysters!" immediately cried the other, triumphantly.  "This is the
country for the delicious bivalve, I understand, and the season is on.
I'd made up my mind some time ago, when this trip was first planned,
that I was going to have lots of feasts in that line.  When a fellow
lives away back on the Mississippi River he gets mighty few chances for
real fresh oysters, you know, and I do love 'em so much!"

"And a few more things in the bargain," chuckled Josh, who never could
resist a chance to get in a sly dig at his friend.

"Lots of 'em," replied the stout boy, calmly, and without a blush.

"But I thought you understood all about that," remarked Jack.  "We
expect to pick up all the oysters we want on the way, so there was no
use laying in a supply at the start, when we needed room for more
important stores."

"Depend on it, Nick, you'll get all the bivalves you want before we're
through with this cruise," Herb prophesied.

"Bring 'em on, then," boasted Nick.  "I'm ready to tackle a mountain of
'em right off the reel, in the shell or out.  Never believed I could
get enough oysters.  But about what time do we go ashore, boys?"

"He's getting hungry already, I do believe?" cried Josh.  "Honest, now,
to keep that fellow from complaining, there ought to be a bag of
crackers and cheese hung up all the time within his reach, so he could
take a snack every hour or two.  I reckon those fat legs of his'n must
be hollow, for how else could he stow away all the grub he does?  He's
a regular Oliver Twist, calling for more, more!"

Nick took all this in the best of humor.  He even grinned, just as
though he might look on it as some sort of compliment.

"I guess I was born hungry, and never got over the complaint," he
observed; "but that don't answer my question, Jack.  It's near four o
'clock, right now, and it gets dark not a great while after six, you
know."

"All right, then; in about another hour we'll think of looking up a
creek along the shore, and make a snug harbor.  Then for a fire, and a
supper, the first of the new cruise," the skipper of the _Tramp_
replied.

"Hear! hear! only another hour to wait," declared Nick, waving his hat
exultantly.

"Think you can hold out that long?" demanded Josh.

"I'll try," said Nick, meekly, as he drew an apple from one of his
pockets, and proceeded to calmly munch the same.

"I give you my word, boys," said George, solemnly, "that's the seventh
he's bit into since we left the dock.  Two did for me; and I can see
still more bunching up in his pockets.  If he gets faint, I'll hand him
a cracker box to open.  But I've some hopes the apples will be a life
preserver."

Jack presently began to increase the speed of the flotilla.  He wanted
to get as far down the river as possible before being compelled to put
up for the night.  And having glanced at his, charts, he knew that they
must cover a number of miles ere they reached a tributary flowing into
the Delaware at this point.

Five o'clock came around at last.  Josh remarked that he was pleased to
see Nick still holding out, and that he had not wasted away to a mere
shadow.

"Now we head in toward the western shore, and keep our eyes on the
lookout for the mouth of a creek that ought to be along down here,"
Jack called out, as he began to gradually alter the course of his boat.

Of course, this pleased them quite a little, as marking a change in the
monotony of the afternoon run.  And truth to tell, Nick was not the
only fellow who enjoyed looking forward to supper time beside a roaring
fire.

"Hey! that looks like an opening below us, Jack!" called George, who
was in the bow of the _Wireless_, steering, leaving to Nick the duty of
attending to other matters connected with the management of the speed
boat, especially its balance.

"You're right, George, that's just what it is, the mouth of the creek;
so slow up everybody, and we'll go in."

Impetuous George was the first to turn into the tributary.  After
running up a short distance, the prospect for a camp not improving,
Jack called out:

"It looks as if it might get worse instead of better, so let's stop off
here.  There are a few trees anyway, and we can get all the wood we
need.  Head in, George, and make a landing."

Presently all of them stepped ashore.  Although their surroundings did
not appeal very heartily to lads accustomed to dense timber, with all
that implies, still they knew how to make the best of a bad bargain.

Nick began to gather firewood at once, and some of the others helped,
so that in a brief time a fire was started that at least made things
look a bit more comfortable and home-like, as Nick said, while puffing
like a porpoise in his labors.

The cruisers had been securely tied up, since there was no danger of
any storm out on the river dashing them against the shore in this
peaceful harbor.

Having brought the mess chests ashore, together with what cooking
things they needed, the boys began preparations for supper.  Many hands
make light work, and Jack utilized every one for some purpose.  Some
laid in a supply of wood, others opened cans, while Josh, being the
boss cook of the crowd, took charge of the menu.

Meanwhile night began to settle around them, and with the coming
darkness a swarm of insect pests developed.

"Whoop!" cried Nick, as he made his fat arms swing around his head like
a couple of old-time flails; "what d'ye call all this, tell me?  Every
time I open my mouth a dozen hop right in.  Talk to me about skeeters,
these must be the frisky Jersey brand we've heard so much about."

"Say, it's lucky Jack thought to get nets for us all in Philadelphia,"
remarked Herb, as he too waved the invaders aside when they harried him.

"No sleeping ashore for me here," declared George.  "The varmints would
carry a fellow off bodily, I do believe."

A little breeze springing up caused the insects to drop into the grass
again, so that the boys had some peace.  Supper being ready, they
finally sat around, and started to partake of the first meal of the
great cruise.

As they were furiously hungry of course everything tasted just
splendid; but then it was good without any starvation sauce to tempt
them, for Josh had always proved a remarkably clever cook, even though
caring so little himself for eating.

After the edge of their appetites had been taken off, the six boys
began to chat and joke.  Josh was pleased to get a chance to sing one
of his little ditties, and required very little urging, after the meal
was over, and the things cleared away.

It was mighty nice, sitting there in comfortable attitudes, listening
to Josh sing, and with the flames jumping up as Nick threw another
armful of fuel on the fire.  Now and then one of them would make a
hurried slap at some over-strenuous mosquito that insisted on having
his meal, too; but, taken in all, the boys were enjoying it
tremendously.

"When does the moon show up?" asked Herb, after a time.

"Why, it's already up there in the west, and a fair-sized crescent,
too," remarked Jack.  "Each night it'll get bigger, until we have it
full.  That's the time I like most of all, when she hangs up there like
a big round shield, and the waves dance as if they were made of silver."

"Listen to Jack getting poetical!" laughed George.

"Well, who wouldn't, when you can hear the lap of the little waves out
there on the creek?" replied Jack, instantly.  "And there, that must
have been a fish jumping, the way they told us the mullet do down
South."

"Yes," said Nick, "me to get one of those castnets, and pull 'em in at
every throw.  No danger of a fellow getting hungry in that country, I
guess."

"If you didn't get hungry where would be the pleasure in living, tell
me that?" demanded Josh.

Before Nick could frame any reply there suddenly broke out the most
terrible roaring sound any of the boys had ever heard.  It seemed to
come from right off the surface of the dark creek close by, and gave
poor Nick such a fright that he almost fell into the fire upon
attempting to struggle to his feet, such was his clumsiness when
excited.

All of them forgot the comfort they had been enjoying, and scrambled
erect.




CHAPTER V.

A STORM, AND NO REFUGE IN SIGHT.

It was only natural that every one of the little party of cruisers
should feel their hearts beating much faster than ordinary, as they
were so startled by that horrible blast so near at hand.

But Jack believed he had heard another sound close on the heels of the
first, and which was not unlike a hoarse laugh.  That indicated the
presence of human beings; and, of course, would account for the roar
that had disturbed their first camp ashore.

Looking in the direction from whence the sounds had apparently
proceeded, which was just below where their boats were pulled up, he
could just manage to make out some bulky moving object; then the
whipping of what seemed to be a discolored sail caught his eye, and he
understood.

Of course, it must be some boat, possibly belonging to oystermen who
plied their trade out on the bay, close to which they now found
themselves.

Coming into the creek, which was possibly their regular harbor for
night refuge, and discovering the fire as well as the boys, they had
blown a fog horn just in the spirit of frolic, to give the boys a scare.

Both men were laughing now at the success of their scheme, and one of
them called out, with the idea of calming the bunch before they took to
shooting, in their excitement, as greenhorns were liable to do under
such conditions.

"Hey, there! it's all right, boys; we're just oystermen, ye see, an'
meanin' to come ashore to jine ye, 'fore we goes home.  Got a dock a
leetle ways up-creek.  So hold yer guns, boys; no harm done, I reckons!"

The sloop was run up on the sandy shore and both men jumped off.  They
proved to be honest chaps, and soon the boys were quite relieved of
their first suspicious sensation at sight of such rough customers.

These fellows had seldom looked on such dainty tricks as the three
little motor boats.  Accustomed to heavy craft, they shook their heads
when they heard how Jack and his chums expected to make far distant
Florida in such frail boats.

"Never kin do it, boys, an' I knows it," declared the taller fellow.

"But ye got the grit, all right, I reckons," added the other.

"We expect to meet up with lots of trouble on the way," said Jack; "but
then we've been through some experience, and know a little about
managing these things.  Often a boat like mine will live in a sea that
would swamp a more clumsy craft.  A canoe rides the waves like a duck,
where a rowboat would fill and sink, being logy."

"They may be somethin' in that same," remarked one of the oystermen;
"but the chanct is, ye'll never make the riffle, boys.  I hate to say
that same; but right down in this Delaware Bay they's bad spots where
ye kin git caught out in a blow, an' can't land.  Many a fine boat's
gone down as I know of."

"An' if so be ye do make shore they's hard characters all along that
section.  Look out if ye happens to land near Murderkill Creek, that's
all I kin say," his mate spoke up, quite seriously, for they seemed to
have taken something of an interest in the boys, and their ambitious
plans.

"Goodness gracious! did you ever hear such a terrible name as that?"
gasped Nick, looking pale, as his imagination worked overtime in
picturing the dreadful things apt to be met with in a country where
even the creeks bore such suggestive names.

"Oh, sometimes things turn out less terrible than they seem!" laughed
Jack, who had read something about this same creek, and felt no
particular fear about making a camp along its border, should necessity
compel such a thing.

"Now, we got to be goin' home, 'case we got famblies waitin' for us;
but we'll toss a lot o' oysters ashore here, if so be ye'd like to have
'em," the taller man remarked.

"All right," spoke up Nick, so promptly that Jack was unable to get in
a reply; "give us fifty cents' worth, if that'll buy a bushel.  I feel
like I could eat that many myself.  Yum, yum, just think of the luck,
fellows!"

The men laughed, but took the money, since their business was gathering
the bivalves, and there were doubtless many mouths to feed.  And they
certainly tossed a full bushel ashore before pushing off, to continue
their run up the stream, to the dock they spoke of owning.

Nick had galloped over to the _Wireless_, and was heard rummaging about
at a tremendous rate, all the while lamenting the fact that he could
not find what he was so eagerly searching for.

"Oh, George! where did you ever hide that bully new oyster knife I
bought up in Philadelphia?" he bellowed, as he raised his head above
the side of the speed boat.

"Never touched it," answered the other, promptly.  "But I do remember
seeing some such thing in that locker up in the bow, where the tools
are kept."

A triumphant squeal presently announced that Nick had unearthed his
treasure; and over the side he came, making at once for the heap of
bivalves.

"You want to go slow with those things," warned Herb.

"Oh, rats!  I guess I know my capacity!" scoffed the fat boy, starting
to rap a shell smartly, and then insert the end of the knife between
its two jaws.  "When I get enough I'll hold up."

"You bet you will before you reach that point!" declared George,
"because some of us hanker after oysters, too.  But just remember how
you cut your fingers with the shells the time we were down at New
Orleans.  And be careful: they may not hurt much now, but tomorrow
they'll fair set you wild, boy."

Nick only mumbled in reply.  He was stuffing the first fat oyster into
his mouth, and as this was an extra large specimen, it allowed of no
room for words.

The others soon got busy too, using such implements as they could find
among the tools.  Jack had a regular oyster knife, but none of the
others had thought to provide themselves with such a necessary article,
save Nick alone.

But by degrees they tamed the oyster fiend, and would not let him have
any more.  Jimmy borrowed his knife, and amused himself in disposing of
the juicy contents of numerous shells.  And Josh, after swallowing
several himself, proved to be a public benefactor by opening them for
those who were green at the business.

But after a time they cried quits, and began to think of going aboard
again; for the venomous little pests were beginning to be very active,
and kept them all busy slapping right and left.

Once under their nets they found a solid comfort that fully compensated
them for not being able to sleep ashore.

And so the night passed.  Nothing occurred to disturb them; and yet
despite the calm, it is doubtful whether any of the six slept very
well.  The novelty of once more being away from civilization and
starting on a long cruise that might bring all sorts of adventures in
its train, kept them wakeful.

Doubtless, too, memory carried them back to many scenes connected with
past experiences; and they lived again in the various happenings
marking those halcyon days.

Up with the dawn some of them once more went ashore.  The fire was
started afresh and preparations for breakfast were under way by the
time Nick made his appearance.  He surveyed what was being done for a
little time, and then lifted his voice in protest:

"What! no oysters for breakfast?  That's mighty funny, now.  I expected
to have 'em every meal, you know."

Not getting any satisfaction from Josh, who was busy making some batter
for the camp flapjacks, Nick wandered off.  They soon heard him hard at
work on oyster shells, though an occasional grunt told that he had cut
his tender fingers with the sharp points.

He did succeed in opening a few, which he insisted on cooking for his
own breakfast; and Josh let him have his way; but it might have been
noticed that Nick consumed his full share of the batter cakes; and even
wistfully eyed a last one belonging to the cook, upon which Josh
generously passed it along, saying that he was "full up."

If any one ever saw Nick in that condition it did not readily occur to
them, for the fat boy seemed to be built after the style of an omnibus,
with always room for "just one more," with crowding.

"Looks like a good day ahead," remarked Herb, glancing at the sky.

"I was just thinking the other way," spoke up Jack.

"Eh?  What makes you tell us that, after hearing what those oystermen
said about the danger we'd run, if we were caught in the big bay in a
storm?" asked George; for his narrow-beam boat always threatened to
turn turtle when the waves were very boisterous, and it kept him
guessing continually.

"Oh! well, I may be wrong; but I didn't altogether like the looks of
those mottled clouds as the sun was coming up," Jack remarked.

"And it was red, too, which I understand is always a bad sign," Nick
put in.  "If we could only get another lot of shell fish, I'd vote to
stay right here for the day.  Perhaps things would pick up by tomorrow."

"Rats!  Who's afraid?" laughed Josh, who knew he was sure of lots of
comfort aboard the roomy boat belonging to Herb.

It was, however, put to a vote, because Jack believed in majority
ruling in matters affecting the whole crowd.  Nick himself voted in
favor of going on.  Whether he did this because he was ashamed to show
the white feather, or from fear lest they might not be able to secure a
further supply of oysters, none of them ever really knew.  But the
motion to continue the cruise was carried unanimously.

As they issued forth from the creek they found that the river seemed
much wider than they had believed it to be.  And apparently it would
keep on that way, with the shores drawing further apart, until they
found themselves on Delaware Bay, which in parts, Jack understood, to
be something like twenty-five miles from side to side, an ocean in
fact, for such small craft.

"We must have been camping in Delaware last night, eh, Jack?" called
out Herb, as the three boats ran along side by side, even George
curbing his propensity for rushing ahead.

"Sure we did," spoke up George.  "I found out on the chart where we
stopped.  Look away over there in Jersey, and you'll see a cloud of
smoke hovering over Salem.  How about that, Jack; am I correct?"

"That's Salem, all right; and we've got to start at a better pace than
this if we hope to get anywhere before night.  Hit her up, George, and
we'll do the best we can to follow," Jack answered.

This pleased the jaunty skipper of the _Wireless_ first-rate.  He
always liked to lead the procession, and set the pace for the rest.

So, as the morning wore on, they made good progress.  Of course the
others were compelled to tone down their speed to suit the pace of the
old _Comfort_, that just wallowed along in what George called a "good
natured way."  Boat and skipper were very much alike; but then that
similarity also applied in the cases of George and his speed boat; yes,
and with regard to Jack, too, who united the good qualities of both
other skippers, as his craft did those of stability and speed.

At noon they ate a lunch while still booming along; for Jack had
discovered a bank of clouds coming up in the west that he did not just
fancy, and hoped to make a certain point before the storm, if such
there was in store for them, should break.

"What's this mean, Jack?" asked George, a couple of hours later,
falling back somewhat so that he might exchange words with the others.

"Yes," said Herb at that; "it's getting as dark as the mischief.  Guess
we're going to have that storm Jack prophesied this morning, fellows."

"Say, perhaps I'd better be shooting ahead, then," suggested George,
uneasily.  "You know this cranky boat of mine isn't the nicest thing
going, to be in when the waves are rolling ten feet high.  And it's so
wide here, they'll beat that, in a pinch."

"What would you be after going ahead for, then?" asked Jimmy.

"So as to get to that creek with the lovely name we talked about,"
George replied, looking troubled, nevertheless.  "I noted its position
on the chart, and think I might find it."

"But if the storm caught you beforehand, you'd be in a bad pickle,
George!" declared Jack, soberly.  "No, better all keep together.  Then,
if an accident happens, there's some chance for the others lending a
helping hand.  But we'll head in more toward the Delaware side, though
if the wind strikes us from the east it'll be a bad place to be caught
on a lee shore."

Nothing more was said just then.  They changed their course somewhat,
and the three little motor boats continued to push steadily forward.
Meanwhile the gloom seemed to gather around them, until even
stout-hearted Jack shuddered a little as he surveyed the wide stretch
of waters that had begun to tumble in the freshening wind, and thought
what might happen if they could find no harbor, with a fierce late
equinoctial gale sweeping across the dangerous bay.




CHAPTER VI.

A CLOSE SHAVE, BUT NO DAMAGE DONE.

"See any signs of a harbor, Jack?"

It was Nick who called this out, as he watched the skipper of the
_Tramp_ swing the pair of binoculars he was handling along the shore
ahead, while Jimmy had the wheel.

"Not that I could say for certain," replied the other, lowering the
glasses for a minute in order to rest his strained eyes.  "I was trying
to get our bearings; and from several things about the shore, that
resemble the line of the chart, I begin to believe I know where we are."

"Not near that awful Murderkill Creek, I hope?" spoke up Nick,
shuddering.

"What's the matter with you?" called George.  "Any port in a storm, say
I; and even if it happened to be Slaughter Creek, which I believe lies
further on toward Lewes, I'd grab it in a hurry, if it came along.
Don't you go to saying a single word against that sweet harbor.  We'll
rename it Paradise Creek, if only it serves us this day."

As it was getting darker all the time, no wonder George had begun to
feel nervous.  Even though he saved himself, and Nick, should he lose
his boat, it would almost break his heart; for in spite of her many and
serious faults the jaunty skipper of the erratic _Wireless_ fairly
loved the craft.

"Yes, we are not many miles above Murderkill; and that or Jones Creek
will have to be our destination; for we must have passed the Dona
opening by mistake.  But perhaps the storm will kindly hold off until
we're all snug in a harbor."

While Jack said this, in order to buoy up the downcast chums, deep down
in his heart he believed that they were bound to be caught out on that
wide stretch of water, and have a fight for their lives, particularly
those who were manipulating the tricky speed boat.

But it was useless to ask George to come aboard the _Comfort_, and try
to tow his craft.  That would seem too ignoble, worse than having a
farm wagon drag the broken-down bubble wagon into town, in fact.

They had gone in as near the western shore as prudence dictated.  Jack
told everybody to be on the lookout for the first sign of an opening.
Beggars could not be choosers, and only too gladly would they welcome
any port, however ill-named or hard looking.

"She's coming, all right," declared Jimmy, as he crouched there, his
hair blowing in the rising wind, and his eyes taking in every sign of
approaching trouble.

"Yes, and I'm sorry to say from the one bad quarter, the southeast,"
Jack made out to answer, between his set teeth.  "If it had only been
west, now, we'd have had the shelter of the land, and could have crept
along nicely until we got where we wanted to go."

The waves were surely increasing in size, and the small craft began to
heave in a very suggestive way.  When they grew still larger, under the
influence of the rising wind, Jack expected that with the passing of
each billow the screw would flash out of water.  That was the time to
be dreaded; for as resistance suddenly ceased with the passage of the
wave, the screw would revolve at lightning speed, and something was apt
to go wrong.

Let an accident occur when in such a bad predicament, and it would be
all over with the unlucky mariners who chanced to be on the disabled
boat.

"Be mighty careful, Herb and George," he called to the others.  "Watch
each billow, and slow the engine before the screw is exposed.  You know
what I mean.  You've both done the same trick before."

Constant vigilance was to be the price of safety from this moment on.
Nothing must distract the attention of those who manipulated the motors
of the three boats caught in this sea in a storm.

Of course, George was accustomed to handling his narrow craft.  Few
amateurs could have done better than the present skipper.  He knew her
good qualities to a fraction, and was also acquainted with the bad
ones.  Consequently, he was aware just how far he could allow her
quarter to face the sweep of wind and waves, without being thrown on
her beam-ends.

It was a ticklish business, very much like managing a treacherous mule,
loaded with kicks and bites at both ends.  One little error of
judgment, and the result would be a spill that must toss the occupants
into the raging waters.

Jack had insisted that the owner of the _Wireless_ provide himself with
life preservers; each boat carried a couple, but in the case of George
and Nick, four had not been deemed too many.

Acting on the advice of Jack, George had fastened one of the cork
jackets on himself before the storm really broke; because afterwards he
would have no time to spare in attempting such a thing.

Nick had gone him one better; and seemed to be of huge proportions as
he crouched there, waiting for the worst to happen.  He had also
secured his old White Wings, which had figured quite largely in
previous cruises, to his shoulders, as if he hoped and believed that
the bags filled with air would be of considerable assistance in keeping
him afloat.

Altogether Nick looked next door to a freak escaped from some side show
connected with a Barnum and Bailey's circus.  Jack often remembered the
sight with more or less inward laughter.  But it was no time for
merriment now, with that wind growing in violence, and the waves
assuming a most threatening appearance.

The minutes seemed like hours, so intense was the strain that held them
in its terrible grip.  Jack had a double duty to perform, watching
those onsweeping waves, and at the same time keeping the shore under a
close supervision, so that he might discover when they came opposite
the mouth of a creek.

Such a place might be so narrow as to pass unnoticed unless one had
exceedingly keen eyes; and, moreover, kept up an unremitting watch.

Fortunately they were not fated to experience the worst that might have
happened to them; for the crux of the storm had not come along by any
means.

Jack suddenly uttered a yell that startled the others on the laboring
boats.

"I saw it, boys; it's all right!  Just follow after me; you first,
George; and Herb bringing up the rear.  Ready now!  Here goes!"

As he shouted these words at the top of his voice, for the water was
making considerable racket by now, Jack began to head straight for the
shore, so that the boat was soon running with the spinning sea.

If he had made a mistake, and the opening failed them, there could be
nothing left but to beach their boats, and to try to save themselves
from the wreckage as best they might.

But Jack had not made an error of judgment, for presently the others
also saw the creek, with its inviting mouth.  Even timorous Nick was
only too delighted to find a safe harbor from the wild gale to care
just then what the name of the creek might happen to be; one was just
as good as another to them all.

Jack made the shelter, and George managed to swing in, though his boat
did almost go over, being struck on the side by a counter sea, when the
pilot was not expecting it, so that she seemed to hang there for a
second or two, in the balance.

But Nick rolled to the other side, and this dead weight was sufficient
to keep the narrow craft from going completely over; she righted, and
swept into the mouth of the creek.

The steady going old _Comfort_ came rolling in like a big tub, with
Herb and Josh not at all alarmed, such was their faith in the reliable
qualities of the staunch craft under their feet.  And it might be
noticed that Herb's pride in his possession increased in proportion as
George's faith decreased.  What suited one did not please the other at
all, apparently.

Making their way into the creek they tied up, being careful lest they
find themselves high and dry at low tide.  Jack kept tabs on the state
of the tide, and at its flood wanted several more feet under him than
while it was at ebb.

"Let us give thanks," said Nick, with due reverence, as they found
themselves safe.  "That was a nasty little scare, all right.  Our old
_Wireless_ kicked like a bucking broncho; I say that, even though I
never rode a cow pony, and only saw the breed at the circus.  Oh!  I'm
glad to be alive right now, and able to eat a few more camp meals!"

No one even called him down for mentioning such a thing as food; for as
they had not taken the time to more than munch a few bites at noon, it
stood to reason that everybody was feeling quite sharp set.

"No fire outdoors tonight, fellows, for here comes the rain," said
Jack; and even as he spoke the big drops did commence to fall, sending
them every one under shelter.

George was hustling in the endeavor to get his tent up, and succeeded
in doing so before the rain became very heavy.  Both Jack and Herb had
had a hunting cabin placed on their boats since last they took a long
cruise, for they knew how comfortable such a cover must prove in time
of stress and foul weather.  But George, believing that to do this
would keep his boat out of the speed class, had declined to follow
suit, using a tent instead, which was fastened to a ridge pole
stretched at night-time fore and aft at a certain height above the
cockpit.

Of course, once George had this waterproof canvas covering in place he
too was able to laugh at the rain that now poured down.  It might not
be just as cozy under his flapping canvas as beneath the steady roofs
which the other boats boasted; but George would not complain, and Nick
dared not.

Of course, every pair now had to cook their own supper.  But it was not
the first time this same thing had occurred by any means; and hence
they knew just how to go about it.

Each boat was supplied with one of those splendid Juwel kerosene
burning gas stoves, which burn common oil turned into a delightful blue
flame by the process of a generator.  Once this was started, all manner
of cooking could be carried on.  Indeed, it is simply astonishing how
much can be accomplished by means of this clever little device, which
most canoeists carry with them as a necessity, as well as a comfort.

The boys had tied up in such a way that they could call out to one
another, as the humor seized them.  And hence, there was more or less
exchange of comments on the bill of fare for supper that evening.

When the meal had been finished night was at hand, though only for the
storm no doubt the sun might still have been seen shining in the low
west.  Jimmy got out his banjo, and the musical plunkety-plunk of its
strings, now and then accompanying one of his jolly songs, did much to
cheer them up.

Jack busied himself with his charts meanwhile, for there was a nasty
little experience awaiting them when they reached Lewes, where they
must watch for a favorable opportunity to pass out upon the open
Atlantic, and cover ten miles or so like a covey of frightened
partridges, heading for the inlet to Rehoboth Bay, and actually passing
around Cape Henlopen, since boats the size of theirs could not well be
carted across the land to Love Creek, as if they were canoes.

Nick busied himself with the last of the oysters, which he had made
sure to throw aboard the _Wireless_, and had found no time up to now,
to tackle.  George was tinkering with his motor, a customary amusement
with him; for his heart was bent on learning how to coax yet another
bit of speed from the engine that racked his boat so terribly when put
at full speed.

On the _Comfort_, Josh and Herb, with room to spare, were having a game
of dominoes, and enjoying themselves very much.  This was the time when
the joy of having plenty of elbow room made itself manifest.

Later on, during a little lull in the rainfall, Jack crept out to take
observation, just as though he might have been an old salt, on board a
sea-going vessel.

The storm was raging quite furiously, and made a roar that must have
seemed more or less terrifying, had one been out on the big bay,
instead of having this snug harbor.

"Whether this is Murderkill Creek, or the one rejoicing in the
aristocratic name of Jones, it doesn't matter one cent," he declared,
as he turned to Jimmy, who had followed him outside for a breath of air
before laying down to sleep.  "Just listen to that howl out yonder, and
then call this bully place a bad name, will you?  Let her whoop it up
as she pleases, we can laugh, and sleep in peace; for there's good
ground between us and the raging sea.  Hear the waves break on shore,
would you, Jimmy?  Starting out by rescuing a poor chap from a watery
grave did bring us good luck, now, I'm thinking."




CHAPTER VII.

HOW THE MOTOR BOAT FLOTILLA WENT TO SEA.

In spite of the racket made by the storm, the boys managed to get in a
pretty fair night's sleep.  In the first place they were tired; and
then they had some lost rest to make up.  That first night had not been
very much of a success as a slumber maker.

With the breaking of morning Jack took an observation by peeping out.
The rain was still coming down spitefully; and the roar of the waves on
the nearby shore announced how utterly impossible it would be for the
small craft to continue their voyage south on this day.

"We're in for a stop-over, Jimmy," he announced, as a sleepy voice from
among the blankets inquired as to the prospects.

It was not long before other laments were heard in the land, as Nick,
George, Herb and Josh poked their heads out, in order to see what was
going on.

"Gee!  I hope you fellows don't think of butting into such a howler as
this?" remarked George, a bit anxiously.

"I should say not," laughed Josh.  "Though I reckon our comfy old tub
could stand up, and take her knocks without squealing.  But we'd have
to wait over at Lewes just the same, so what's the use?"

"I'd refuse to move a foot, and that's flat!" declared George, as he
teetered at the stern of the narrow speed boat; for it happened just
then that the clumsy Nick was moving around, and whenever this came
about, the balance of the craft was visibly disturbed.

"No danger," declared Jack.  "We're going to make the best of a bad
bargain, and roost here in Murderkill Creek for another day."

"Whoo! once when I woke in the night," remarked Josh, "and as the wind
slackened up a bit, I heard the awfullest noise ever.  Sounded just
like somebody was hollerin' for help.  And when I remembered all they
told us about this pesky place, I was a long time getting to sleep
again, I give you my word."

"Sure, I was after havin' the same thing myself," declared Jimmy,
eagerly.  "And if any banshee in the ould country ever made a more
horrible noise, I'll eat me hat; and that's no lie.  Whatever d'ye
suppose it was, Jack, old top?"

Jack laughed.

"Oh! owls!" he remarked, carelessly.

"But looky here," Josh flashed up, "don't you reckon I've heard owls
hoot before now?  I tell you this was different, and much more ghastly;
just like somebody was being half choked, and gurgling as he tried to
call for help.  It made the cold chills creep up and down my spinal
column, that's right, now."

"Perhaps they've got a special brand of owl down along here, that
outdoes all its species in whooping things up," laughed Jack.  "And on
account of some one hearing those same fierce noises long ago, the
creek got its terrible name."

"Oh! forget it," broke in Herb; "especially since we've got to pass
another night right here, and don't want to be bothered with bad
dreams."

Breakfast was prepared in much the same fashion as their supper was
cooked on the preceding evening.  George and Nick had much the worst of
it, with that flapping tent sheltering them, while the others found
solid comfort in their hunting cabins.

Every little while George could be heard warning his stout and rather
unwieldy mate to be more careful.  Either he was rocking the boat in a
manner most exasperating, or else rubbing up against the canvas top,
which, in that particular spot, quickly developed a disposition to
leak, as supposed waterproof canvas often will if you so much as place
a finger on the underside while it is wet.

Along about nine o'clock, however, the clouds ceased to squeeze their
watery contents down upon the adventurous cruisers.

"Hurra! boys!" Nick was heard to shout an hour later; "it's going to
clear up, as sure as you live!  Looky up yonder, and you'll see a break
in the clouds.  Then we can go ashore anyhow, and get some of the kinks
out of our legs."

Nick proved a good prophet, for about eleven the clouds did begin to
roll away, so that the sun peeped out.  It was a welcome sight, and
elicited a series of loud thankful cheers from the boys.

They were not long about getting on land.  Josh in particular was seen
to turn a few hand-flaps, as though in that energetic way he could
loosen up his muscles the more speedily.

"But that sea will keep up more or less the rest of the day," observed
Jack, as they sauntered over to a point where they could look out on
the heaving surface of the broad Delaware Bay.

Having a stretch of miles in which to gather force under the piping
wind, the waves were of considerable height, considering that the three
boats were of diminutive size.

They watched the tumble of the billows until they were tired.  Then
each set about doing whatever appealed the most to his nature.

Thus Nick wandered along the bank of the creek, examining the shores
closely, in the hope of being able to pick up a few shellfish, since
his taste for oysters had grown to huge proportions after the feast
already indulged in.

George set about drying things out on board the _Wireless_, so that he
could tinker a little with that high spirited engine of his.  Josh
settled down to gather some wood, being bent on having an outdoor fire
when the next meal came around, meaning supper; for they would only
take a cold snack at noon.  Herb was writing up his log; Jimmy getting
some fishing tackle in readiness, he having an idea that finny prizes
only awaited the taking in these parts; while Jack wandered forth, with
a gun thrown over his shoulder, hungry for a little hunt.

They heard a double report half an hour later.  Every fellow looked
interested, for well did they know that when Jack pulled trigger there
was a pretty fair chance of something dropping into the game bag.

Nick, who was pottering with a few rather poor looking oysters he had
managed to discover in some little cove, grinned, and rubbed himself
comfortingly in the region of the stomach.

"Which shall it be, brethren, wild duck, quail on toast, rabbit stew,
or great governor! wild turkey roasted?" he demanded, with the utmost
confidence that Jack would fulfill at least one of these conditions.

When the Nimrod of the crowd came in sight, there was more or less
interest manifested as to what he had shot.  After all, it proved to be
wild ducks.  And Nick's eyes glistened when he saw that they were
mallards, three fat fellows at that.

"I happened on 'em in a little wide reach of the creek about half a
mile away," Jack explained; "and as this was a pot hunt, fellows,
believe me, I didn't hesitate to shoot the first barrel straight at the
three as they sat on the water.  Two dropped and the other fellow made
to rise; but that was dead easy, and I got him with the second shell."

"Yum! yum!  I can imagine how good they'll taste," remarked Nick.  "But
as we haven't any oven along, how can we roast 'em?  Jack, why not try
that hole in the ground trick that you showed us last year when we were
down on the Mississippi?"

"That's right, Jack!" echoed George.

"Just as you say, fellows; and the sooner we get our oven in working
order then, the better; because, you remember, it takes quite some
hours for it to do the job.  It's really the original fireless cooker,
known to woodsmen for rafts of years before the idea was applied to
bottles that will keep the stuff warm forty hours; and contrivances to
gradually cook meats and other things.  So here goes to get busy with
the oven.  Nick, you and Herb and Jimmy each pluck one of the ducks in
the meantime, so they will be ready."

Now, this was a part of the business that Nick liked not at all; but he
felt that it would be a shame to complain, when he delighted so much in
being about to share in the treat; so he set to work, after his clumsy
fashion, to make the feathers fly.

Jack, meanwhile, dug a proper hole in the ground, where he could find
something like clay.  With the help of Josh he started a fire in the
same.  This was kept up a certain length of time, until the walls of
the oven were baked hard, and felt exceedingly hot.  Then the ashes
were cleaned out, the three ducks placed therein, after being carefully
wrapped in big green leaves; and when this had been done the oven was
hermetically sealed.

"We may have to wait a little later than usual for our supper," Jack
said; "but when they're done, it'll sure make your mouths water just to
get the scent, after that oven is opened."

The afternoon passed slowly.  All clouds had sailed away, and the sun
shone in a cherry manner, giving promise for a glorious day on the
morrow.  Still, they could not think of changing their anchorage,
because the waves continued to run high; and that boat of George's was
always to be remembered as the one weak link in the chain.

Josh did himself proud in preparing supper that night.  And when the
oven was finally opened, the delicious odor that immediately assailed
the nostrils of the hungry lads sent them into the seventh heaven of
delightful anticipation.

Nor was the eating of the ducks at all a disappointment.  Never had
they tasted anything finer in all their lives.

"Say, if mallards can touch the spot like this, what must redheads or
canvasbacks be like?" demanded Nick, as he polished a leg bone
handsomely, grunting his pleasure meanwhile, and perhaps inwardly
sighing because there was not one whole duck apiece.

"We'll see, later on," replied Jack; "because, as we have to pass
through those North Carolina sounds where such ducks can be found,
there's a chance we'll take toll on the way."

"But I thought the hunting clubs had monopolized every foot of that
water; and that only the wealthy New Yorkers, and ex-presidents, could
shoot on Albemarle and Currituck Sounds?" remarked Josh.

"Well, pretty much all the best points are private territory now," Jack
answered, frowning; "but it's possible to sneak a few shots when you're
passing through on the way south.  Wait and see what we can do,
fellows."

"Well, one thing sure," declared Nick, admiringly; "if ever Jack
Stormways pulls trigger on a canvasback, he goes along with this bully
crowd, all right."

"Hear! hear!" cried the others, which caused the flattered Jack to
smile and wave his hand in token of sincere appreciation.

"I reckon now," remarked George, as they sat around the blaze later on,
conversing along various topics; "you've hung on to that bally old
mystery all tight enough, Jack?"

"Meaning the little sealed packet the skipper of the hydro-aeroplane
gave into my keeping?" the one addressed made reply.  "Why, of course I
have it safe; and if I manage to get through to Beaufort, I hope to
hunt up the same Van Arsdale Spence, and put it in his possession."

"But it may turn out to be a tougher proposition than you imagine,"
Herb remarked.  "Perhaps the gentleman has buried himself in the wild
country around that coast town; we can't spend much time hunting all
over creation for him, can we?"

"Of course, we don't expect to do that," Jack quickly responded.  "I
only promised to look him up; and if he had gone away, to send the
packet to him by mail, if we could get his present address.  But what's
the use crossing a bridge till you get to it?  We worry a heap over
things that never happen.  Who said he was sleepy?"

"Me," spoke up Nick, who had been yawning at a prodigious rate for the
last half hour.  "You see, we didn't get much of a snooze aboard the
old _Wireless_ these two nights.  Even at the best, the quarters are
cramped; and if one fellow turns over, it nearly throws his mate out of
his blanket bed."

"Rats!" scoffed George, always ready to stand up for his beloved craft,
even though deep down in his heart he knew that the criticism might be
well founded.  "The trouble is, you're such a hefty fellow that you
never just roll over, you _wallow_!  Now, when I had Josh for a while
with me, things went much smoother."

"But I didn't go the same way, I'm telling you, George," declared the
tall boy, quickly; "and you needn't try to coax me to change places
with Nick any more.  I've tried your boat, and I just don't like it.
I've got to have room to stretch; and after a night aboard the
_Wireless_ I used to feel that I was tied up in a double knot all
right.  Nixy, I pass.  Once is out for me."

But all of them were sleepy, and it was not long before they went
aboard.  There had been some talk of staying ashore; but it frittered
out.  Whether it was because of the frolicsome mosquitoes, that had put
in their appearance with the dying out of the breeze; or recollections
of the fearful name by which the stream, was known on the chart and
among men, no one confessed.  They dribbled aboard the three boats, and
went about making up their beds for the night in the most
matter-of-fact way possible.

And, truth to tell, they did manage to secure a lot of refreshing sleep
before another dawn came to call them to duty.

After breakfast they left their harbor, in which they had been
storm-bound; and were soon pushing along toward the southeast, where
Lewes, back of Cape Henlopen, lay.

The bay was far from smooth, but by degrees it became more so as the
day passed.  Finally, after passing several lighthouses, they had
glimpses of the great Government breakwater, and the barrier that has
been erected to keep the ice from injuring the shipping.

That night they lay in a snug harbor in Broadhill Creek, a few miles
above the town.  Herb and Josh had gone with the _Comfort_ to see if
there was any mail for them; and to pick up a few little things which
it was believed they needed to complete their happiness.

"I hope tomorrow will be as fine as today has been," Jack remarked that
evening, as they sat around to partake of supper; "because we've got a
nasty outside run to make, reaching for an inlet below; and we've just
got to wait until the sea is smooth, if it takes a week.  We promised
our folks at home not to take any unnecessary chances, you remember,
fellows."

"And that's one I'd refuse to tackle," observed George, without a
blush.  "The old ocean is a pretty big proposition for a teenty little
motor boat to buck up against."

"Especially one that's built on the order of a wedge!" grunted Nick,
unconsciously rubbing one of his fat sides sympathetically, as though
he might be getting a chronic muscular pain there, from being kept in a
state of perpetual balance.

When the morning did come they found that the signs seemed most
propitious indeed; and Jack declared that they could not afford to let
such a chance pass by.

"Well, just as you say, Jack," sighed George.  "The thing has to be
done; and in that case the sooner we get it over with, the better.  But
I hope there won't be much more of this outside business before we
reach Florida."

"Very little," replied the other, reassuringly.  "And we're going to
take no chances at any time, remember.  This outside work is easy
enough, always providing you bide your time, and no big wind from the
east or south comes up while you're making the trip from one inlet to
another.  Sometimes, I'm told, the sea is like glass, with hardly a
ripple."

"I hope it turns out that way today, then," remarked George, as he
began to do a little final tinkering with his machinery before the
start.

Jack watched the tide, knowing something about how the wind would be
apt to come up at a certain change, as it usually does.  Then, at eight
o'clock, or "eight bells," as Nick delighted to call it, the signal was
given, the gallant little flotilla started off; and an hour later the
three motor boats were moving through the heaving sea, with nothing but
water toward the east and south, as far as the eye could reach.

They were now fully launched on the broad Atlantic, and must take
chances of making a safe harbor before the coming of the wind.




CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAMP INVADED.

"Why, fellows, this is dead easy!" George called out, after they had
been making good time for an hour or more, with the heaving sea showing
no sign of taking undue advantage of the confiding little motor boats
that had ventured on its placid bosom.

"Just as I told you," Jack answered, for they made sure to keep pretty
close to each other while undertaking this passage.  "Choose the right
time, after a storm with the wind and sea gone to rest, and a little
run like this is a picnic."

"But she looks pretty wide out there," remarked Nick, pointing toward
the east.

"Oh! not so much," laughed Herb.  "I should think that a matter of four
thousand miles or so would cover it."

"Gee! whiz! that must be Africa over there, then?" Nick gasped.

"That's right!" Jack called; "but there's a trifle of haze hanging out
just at present, so you can't quite see the tropical shores, with the
black natives dancing around some missionary.  But joking aside, boys,
I think we're going to make the riffle without any trouble.  Already we
must be well on the way there, and no sign of wind yet."

"Perhaps when she does come it may be in the west?" suggested Josh, who
did occasionally have a brilliant thought, it seemed.

"Just so, and in that case we'd be all hunky," Jack answered back;
"because with a west wind we could creep in close to the shore, since
there'd be no waves rolling up on the beach.  Suppose we touch up for a
little faster gait."

"I'm willing," George sent back.  "Put it up to the _Comfort_ as usual.
We'll have to adapt our pace to what she can do."

"Yes," called out Josh from the roomy boat, "and consider yourself
lucky, George, if you don't have to call on the old Ark to give you a
tow before we cross that same bar at the inlet.  It wouldn't be the
first time; and it ain't goin' to be the last either, believe me!"

"Oh! shucks! my engine is running as smooth as silk now.  I could make
circles around the whole bunch if I wanted to; but what's the use?
We'd better stick together, you know.  Somebody might want a little
help."

"Sure, somebody might," mocked Josh.

Jack had let Jimmy have the wheel.  With his glasses he was
scrutinizing the shore line as they made steady progress.  He felt sure
that he would be able to discover the right inlet long before they
arrived at a point where they must alter their course in order to cross
that bar which is always found at such openings.

Drawing the small amount of water their boats did, he anticipated not
the slightest trouble in getting over.  So as they increased their pace
somewhat, Jack divided his time between watching the shore and the sky.
Wind was something that would oblige them by remaining away.

They had figured on taking three hours to make the run; but it was
nearer four, owing to the fact that there were some miles to pass over
in leaving the creek where they had spent the preceding night, and
reaching the open sea; and also because they had to go out some
distance.

Jack sighted the inlet for which they were so anxiously pressing, and
when the three motor boats had crossed the bar, gaining the security
that lay behind the sandspits, all of them breathed easier.  That night
they would not see the flashing of the Henlopen light, or catch the
distant gleam of the famous mariner's beacon on the point at Cape May,
for they were many miles to the south, and the glow of Chincoteague
Light closer at hand.

But for some time at least they need not think of danger from a rising
sea.  If troubles were fated to come, as was almost inevitable, they
were apt to be of an entirely different character.  Perhaps they would
get aground in shallow waters; it might be there would be times when
the little flotilla would become lost in some intricate channels
connecting the numerous bays that parallel the coast, and which are by
degrees being dredged by the Government, with the idea of at some dim
future date having an inland coast canal by which even small vessels of
war may pass north and south.

Again, Jack had before him his chart, printed by the Department at
Washington, and supposed to be perfectly reliable as to depth of water,
position of lights and shoals, the lay of the many sinuous creeks, and
all such important matters upon which the voyager over these sounds
must depend for safe progress.

"Looky there, what's that over yonder on the water--gulls?" called
Nick, after they had been moving along in procession for some time, the
_Tramp_ leading the way--for George realized that he must curb his
speed propensity while navigating these deceptive shallow waters,
unless he wanted to take chances of wrecking his beloved craft on an
unseen oyster reef, or a sandbar that lay just below the surface.

"I reckon they're ducks," quoth Josh, after a look.  "How about it,
Jack?"

Jack did not have to even make use of the glasses before replying in
the affirmative.

Nick was all excitement at once.

"Say, why can't we sneak up on 'em, and knock about six on the head?"
he hastened to demand; and then stooped down to drag out George's
shotgun; at which the others shouted to him to be careful, for he was
making the boat wobble fearfully.

"Well, we might give them a try," said Jack, with a smile; "but even if
we did manage to bag a bunch, I reckon now, you wouldn't think them
worth cooking."

"Why not; I've heard that even fishy ducks can be eaten, if you take
the trouble to draw the feathers and skin off together?" Nick declared.

"Which is correct, all right, as far as it goes," Jack continued,
placidly; "but I'd defy even such an expert as Josh here, to cook those
ducks so as to disguise the woody flavor!"

"Haw! haw! haw!  Jack means they're only a bunch of wooden
decoys--stool ducks!" roared Josh, some of the others echoing his
merriment.  "Perhaps you c'n digest pretty near anything, you're such a
walking cemetery, Nick; but I bet you draw the line at a wooden duck,
hey?"

Nick relapsed into silence, but George took up the talk.

"Ain't this early in October for duck hunting, Jack?  Some of the
States don't allow it till November, you know," he inquired, seeking
information.

"Yes; and perhaps this fellow is only giving his stools an airing,
after all, to see how they float; because the main raft of ducks won't
be here till later."

During the day they landed at one or two docks, where the customary
groups of staring natives surrounded them, asking questions, examining
the clever little craft beside which their own looked cumbersome,
though sea-worthy, and giving such a sad mixture of information that in
the end Jack was glad he had his reliable charts to fall back on, since
one man's account seemed to be exactly contradictory in comparison with
the next one.

The boys believed that it would be wise to halt for the night away from
any of the settlements along the sound or bay.  Perhaps these rough
looking fellows might be all right, and just as honest as they make
them; but previous experiences had warned Jack and his chums that there
are always some bad characters belonging in every isolated town and
hamlet; and there was no use tempting such rascals more than seemed
necessary.

Accordingly, when the afternoon drew near its end, they began to cast
about for a camping place.  To the delight of Nick they had been able
to pick up a duck here and there, until there were now four on board.

"If we could only get a brace more," he kept saying; "or even one might
do, as Josh eats so little; how nice it would be.  Jack, don't you
suppose, now, you might creep up behind that island yonder, drop
ashore, since the law forbids one to shoot ducks from a craft driven by
sails or any motive power except a fellow's muscles, and get a shot
into the lovely little bunch that is sporting there?"

"Anything to oblige," was the response;

and with that the head of the _Tramp_ was turned aside, so that the
skipper could presently jump ashore.

His crawl across the reedy island was not as pleasant as one might
wish; but when he fired both barrels at the rising flock, Nick nearly
laughed himself sick to see not only two, but five birds fall with as
many splashes into the water.

One wounded duck managed to get away.  Jack declared it must have
dived, and held on to some of the eel grass at the bottom, preferring
death to falling into the hands of duck-eating human beings; for this
often happens, as every hunter knows.

Again an oven was to be made, and they hoped to have a feast for the
next day.

"What's to hinder our sleeping on shore tonight, fellows?" asked Josh,
as they found a pretty good place for a camp.

"Oh! please do!" cried poor, tortured Nick; "I'd love to rest comfy for
just once again."

"Huh!" grunted stubborn George, "that suits me first rate, because I
insist on keeping to my quarters aboard, and there'll be plenty of
room.  Besides, I won't wake up every little while when you roll over,
thinking the boat is going to turn turtle."

Upon being put to a vote, five of them were in favor of trying it.  So
about the time they began to feel sleepy, blankets were brought from
the boats, and each fellow started to make himself as comfortable as
possible under the circumstances.

Jack had selected his sleeping place with an eye to its convenience;
also the fact that by raising himself on his elbow he could have a
survey of the entire camp, counting the three boats.  And it might have
been noticed that both he and Herb made sure to take their guns to bed
with them, a fact Nick saw with a bit of uneasiness.

The _Tramp_ and the _Comfort_ were both fastened up, for it was
possible to lock their cabins in an emergency.  George was under his
canvas shelter, trying to make himself believe he fully enjoyed the
sensation of loneliness.

Finally a silence came over the camp on the shore.  The fire died down
gradually, for no one bothered to keep it going, the night being
anything but cold.

Jack was always a light sleeper.  He had trained himself to awaken if
there was anything unusual going on.  And when he suddenly opened his
eyes, seeing the stars over his head, he knew instinctively that it was
not far from daybreak.  He also had a sort of intuition that there was
some one or _something_ moving close by.

And so, Jack, reaching out and securing his gun, began to softly raise
his head, hoping that the starlight would be strong enough to let him
see what was going on.  What discovery he made gave him something of a
little shock.




CHAPTER IX.

THE DESPERATION OF HUNGER.

The night was still.  Only the soft wash of the tiny waves on the shore
came to the ears of the _Tramp's_ skipper as he thus raised his head to
take an observation.

First he looked in the direction of the three motor boats, and in
particular the one on board of which George was sleeping.  Perhaps he
had a slight suspicion to the effect that some movement on the part of
this chum had caused the scuffling sounds.

His search for an explanation in this quarter proved to be a failure.
He could plainly see the tan-colored canvas tent which covered the
speed boat; but it seemed to be perfectly motionless.

Just then Jack sniffed the air two or three times.  Come, that was
surely a most delightful odor that seemed to be wafted in his quarter.
Had Nick, for instance, been alongside, and wide-awake, he would have
immediately declared that it reminded him of roast duck!

By the way, they did have a full half dozen waders in the process of
baking in that crude earthen oven.  Jack shot a quick glance over in
the direction where he and Nick had built the receptacle.

What could that dark object be?  Even as he looked he surely saw it
move.  Yes, a second and more positive examination convinced him of
this fact.  Then there was danger of the expected breakfast being
carried off while they slept.

Was it some prowling bear that had followed the scent, and dug out the
cooked fowls?  The bulk of the figure assured him that it could be no
ordinary raccoon, or even a cunning fox.

Would he be justified in shooting?  At that short distance Jack
realized that he could riddle the object sadly; for the charge of shot,
having no chance to spread, would go with all the destructive power of
a bullet.

His finger was on the trigger, but he wisely refrained.  Perhaps after
all this night intruder might not prove to be a bear, nor yet any other
wild beast.  Roast duck may appeal just as strongly to the human
family.  If any prowler had seen them bury the ducks on the preceding
evening, might he not have waited patiently until this hour, just
before the dawn, in order to allow the fowls to cook?

Was that a grunt of satisfaction he now caught?  It certainly sounded
very much along that order.  Evidently the transgressor and thief must
have finally succeeded in accomplishing his burrowing, judging from
that decided aroma that was scattering about the vicinity.  Even then
he might be trying to gather up the spoils, loth to let a single duck
escape his bold foray.

Well, Jack believed he ought to have something to say about that.  He
had gone to considerable trouble to collect half a dozen ducks; and,
besides, it took more or less time to build that same oven and prepare
the game for the receptacle.  They were not in the feeding line,
either.  If a poor hungry wayfarer chose to approach them the right
way, and appeal for help, he would find that generous hearts beat in
the bosoms of these good-natured lads.  But a thief who came crawling
into camp when they were asleep, and tried to make a clean sweep of
their expected breakfast, did not appeal to Jack at all.

"Hello! there, my friend; if you start to run, I'm going to fill you
full of shot; so don't you dare try it!" Jack suddenly remarked, in a
clear voice.

Up bobbed other heads near by, as these words awoke some of the
sleepers.

"Keep still, boys, and don't get in my way," said Jack, calmly.  "I've
got a thief covered, and expect to bring him down if he so much as
takes one jump.  Easy now, Herb; keep your gun ready, and don't shoot
until I say so."

For all he talked so threateningly, of course Jack would have done no
such thing had the fellow bolted.  Better lose a thousand ducks than
have cause to regret hasty action.  But it seemed that his bold words
had the effect he wanted; for the shadowy figure continued to hug the
ground in the spot where the oven lay.

"Don't yuh shoot me, Mistah!" a quavering voice now broke out; and
immediately they understood that the intended spoiler of their
breakfast must be a negro.  "I ain't 'tendin' tuh run away, 'deed I
ain't, sah.  I gives mahself up.  I ain't eben gut a knife 'long with
me!"

"Josh!" said Jack, quietly.

"Yes, I'm on deck, all right; what is it?" replied the tall boy, close
by.

"You fixed some stuff for starting a fire in a hurry, didn't you?"
continued Jack.

"Sure I did; and it's right here beside me," Josh hastened to reply.

"Then strike a match, and let's have some light.  We'll look this coon
over, and see whether we want to take him down to Franklin City with us
tomorrow, or give him some grub and let him go scot free."

Jack was looked upon as a leader by his chums, and when he received
these instructions Josh never hesitated a second about starting to
carry them out to the letter.

Scratch went his match, which he always kept handy, being the
recognized _chef_ of the expedition.  Then the light wood flamed up,
communicated with other stuff, and in a "jiffy," as Josh called it, the
scene was illuminated.

Meanwhile Jack had climbed out from among the folds of his blanket,
always keeping his shotgun leveled in the direction of the crouching
figure of the detected marauder of their stores.

He found a badly frightened negro, rather a young fellow, and as black
as tar.  The whites of his eyes looked staring as he followed the
movements of that threatening gun, every time Jack moved.

"Come, get up here, and step nearer the fire," said Jack.  "When we
have company we always like to entertain them in proper style.  Now,
sit down here, and give an account of yourself.  What's your name, to
start with?"

George had come tumbling out of the depths of the _Wireless_, aroused
by the sound of voices, although Jack had not been talking in an
excited way.  Herb, Jimmy and Josh were all on hand, with blankets
wrapped about them; for the night air was a bit keen, and they had on
only their underclothing and pajamas.

But Nick could be heard snoring away contentedly in his snug nest, dead
to the world and all its cares.  Nor did any one think to take the
trouble to arouse the fat boy, so that he calmly slept through the
entire proceedings.

"I'se Jawge Washington Thomas; an' I libs back dar in de kentry at er
place called Pokomoke City, sah," the prowler promptly answered, as
though he realized that since he had now fallen into the hands of these
young fellows, he might as well make a clean breast of it.

"And what are you doing here on the shore of Chincoteague Bay, creeping
into a camp, and raiding our provisions?" pursued the one who held the
gun.

"'Deed, an' I done must a been a fool," sighed the prisoner; "an' dat's
no lie, tuh try an' git dem ducks like er fox, w'en I orter stepped up,
bold like, an' asked yuh foh a bite.  But I was dat hungry, boss, I
jes' couldn't help it.  I seen yuh put dem fowls in de little hole in
de groun', an' somethin' tempts me tuh hang 'round till dey orter be
done foh suah."

"But you haven't told us why you're here, instead of over in Pokomoke
City, where you belong, George?" went on Jack, meaning to have the
whole story.

"I'se gwine tuh tell yuh hit all, boss, 'deed I is.  Den yuh kin do
what yuh want wid me, only foh de love o' misery gib me sumpin tuh eat
'fore yuh takes me down tuh Franklin City, what de sheriff is.  I'se
ben hidin' out now foh nigh a month.  Yuh see I done git in a muss wid
a white man, an' we had a scuffle.  He done trip an' cut his haid on a
stone when he falls down; but dey declar I cut him.  'Taint nothin'
serious like, gib yuh mah word on it, boss; an' Hank he ben up an'
'round dis three weeks an' more.  But dey got it in foh me ober dere,
an' I ain't gwine tuh take de chances ob gittin' kotched."

"And so you've been hiding out for a whole month, have you, George?"
Jack asked, now lowering his gun, since he realized there was no longer
any necessity for standing guard over the dejected chap, hungry, ragged
and forlorn as he seemed to be.

"Dat's jes' what I done has, sah.  At fust I 'spected tuh make mah way
tuh Baltimore, 'case dar I got a brudder; but I jest cudn't go 'way,
yuh see, widout mah wife an' two chillen.  So I kept right on hangin'
'round hyah, an' tryin' tuh git word tuh dem.  I has a letter from
Susie jest yisterday, sayin' as how she'd jine me termorry at de
Scooter Landin', whar a boat is loadin' wid lumber foh Baltimore.  An'
my Susie sez as how she got de money tuh take us all dar."

"That sounds reasonable enough, George.  Now tell us why you crawled
into camp and tried to lift those roast ducks?" Jack asked, turning to
wink at his chums, who in their odd garb were gathered around,
listening and grinning.

"Jes' as I was sayin', boss; I seen yuh come in here las' night, an'
git ready tuh camp.  Wanted tuh ask yuh foh sompin' tuh eat de wust
kin', but w'en I done sees de guns yuh kerry, I got cold feet; 'case I
kinder s'pected yuh mout be all alookin' foh me.  So I hangs 'round
till I reckons de fowls dey must be ready tuh eat.  Den I slicks in,
an' tried tuh grab one.  Dat's de whole story, boss, gib yuh mah word
it is.  An' I hopes yuh belibes me."

"See here, George, when a man gives evidence in court he is expected to
prove it, if he can," Jack remarked, seriously.  "Now, that's a rather
interesting story you tell; but how can we know that it's true?  You
mentioned receiving a letter from your wife a bit ago; suppose you show
it to us.  That would go a great ways toward making us believe; and
getting you a breakfast in the bargain."

"Good for you, Jack!" exclaimed the skipper of the _Wireless_.

"A bully idea!" commented Josh; while the other two nodded their heads,
as if they fully backed these sentiments.

Jawge Washington Thomas seemed in no wise dismayed by this proposition.
They saw a wide grin expand across his sable face as he immediately
thrust a hand into the pocket of the ragged jacket he wore over his
faded cotton shirt.

"Dat seems tuh be de right thing, sah," he remarked, as he drew
something out.  "I'se right glad now I done kep' dis little letter.
Beckons as how I read de same half a million times dis last twenty-foah
hours.  Dar she be, sah.  Hopes as how yuh kin make out de writin'.  My
Susie she smart gal, 'fore she marry dis good-foh nothin' nigga; she
eben done teach school.  Reckon she too good foh me, boss; but if I
eber gits up in Baltimore, I'se gwine tuh do the right thing by Susie,
gib yuh my word I is, sah."

The boys crowded around, each eager to see what sort of a letter Susie
had sent to her man, in his time of trouble.  This was what they made
out, although the missive had been handled so often by the fugitive
that it was well begrimed:

"George--The schooner _Terrapin_ will be at Scooter's Landing day after
tomorrow, Thursday.  I sold out everything, and will be aboard with the
children, bound for Baltimore.  We can live here in Pokomoke no longer.
Be on the lookout.  Your wife Susie."

That was all, but it must have brought a lot of hope to the wretched
fugitive, who believed that he would be tarred and feathered, or else
lynched, if ever he was caught by those Maryland whites.  And his claim
that Susie had an education Jack saw was well founded.

"How about it, boys; shall we take George to Franklin City, or give him
a good breakfast and let him wait for Susie and the kids?" asked Jack,
though he felt positive as to what the answer would be before he spoke.

"He can have half of my duck!" announced Herb.

"And the whole of mine," echoed Josh.

"That settles it," laughed Jack.  "So, George Washington Thomas, draw
right up to the fire and begin operations.  A starving man can be
excused for doing lots of things that in a fellow with a full stomach
might appear to be a bad go.  We'll forgive you this time; and hope
that when you get to Baltimore, you'll show Susie how you can work for
a woman who stands by her man like she has."

"I'se gwine tuh, boss; I'se got mah mind made up on dat, I tells yuh,"
declared the fugitive, with an air of determination that Jack liked to
see.

And as his hunger was such a real thing, they forced him to begin to
eat without further delay.  Having dressed themselves, for the dawn was
now coming on, they started operations looking toward breakfast,
wishing to give the poor fellow a treat in the way of some hot coffee
and a rasher of bacon.

Fancy the amazement of Nick, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, on
discovering an unknown negro, seated on a log, with a tin plate on his
knees, and devouring one of the ducks that had been placed in the
primitive oven the night before.

"W-w-what's all this mean?  Who's your friend, and whose duck is he
making 'way with, fellows?  I hope now you haven't let me sleep on,
just to play a trick on me and leave a rack of bones on my dish.  Did
he drop down out of the sky, or have you engaged a pilot for the
treacherous waters of the lower Chincoteague Bay?" was the way he broke
out, as he discovered his chums grinning.

When he heard the story, Nick hardly knew whether to be provoked, or
take it as a joke, that he had been allowed to sleep through it all.

"But I ain't going to be outdone by any of you," he said,
magnanimously; "and if George Washington can get away with another
whole duck, let him tackle mine!"




CHAPTER X.

NICK IN SEARCH OF A MERMAID.

"Good boy, Nick!" cried George, who knew what a great sacrifice the fat
boy had in mind, when he offered to give up his share to the hungry
stranger.

"But there's no need of it," declared Josh.  "You know I don't have any
appetite in the morning, so he's eating my duck."

"And as for me," piped up Herb, "I'm satisfied with half a bird.
Besides, somehow, duck for breakfast seems rather strong.  I'm used to
something light--a rasher of bacon, flapjacks, or hominy, with coffee.
So hold your horses, Nick, and get ready to take your turn."

After the meal had been completed, preparations were made looking
toward an early start.  They anticipated having a hard day's work,
several inlets having to be crossed, with the ocean setting in heavy
against them, it might be.

Jack had heard some pretty wild stories concerning the perils that
might be expected while crossing these same inlets, where at the full
sweep of the tide small boats were in danger of being upset in the mad
swirl.

He hardly believed more than half of what he heard, however, knowing
how prone the natives are to exaggerate things.  Besides, the staunch
motor boats were not in the same class as the clumsy craft used by
those who navigated these shoal waters along the Virginia coast.

They said good-bye to the fugitive black.  Some of them, in the
generosity of their boyish hearts, had slipped quarters and half
dollars in the ready hand of the fellow; and his eyes danced with
happiness as he stood there, waving the skippers and crews of the
little flotilla farewell.

"It was a mighty lucky thing for George Washington that he dropped into
our camp last night," laughed Herb, as they began to lose sight of the
waving hat of the negro.

"Yes, and just as lucky that he made a failure of his job," remarked
Jack, for they were moving along close together, so that it was easy to
talk back and forth.  "If he'd managed to get away with a duck or two,
that would have ended it all.  As it is, he's holding a nice little
bunch of coin, that will help pay for the grub, after he gets to
Baltimore with his family."

"I suppose it's a square deal George gave us?" queried Josh.

"Now, what do you mean by that?" demanded Herb.

"He couldn't have been playing a trick on us, could he?" the other went
on; for Josh was often inclined to be somewhat suspicious.

"Come off!" scoffed George.

"That's too bad, Josh, for you to suspect him of trying to pull the
wool over our eyes," Jack declared, reproachfully.

"Oh!  I don't doubt him, so to speak," Josh protested; "but you know
I'd hate everlastingly to be done by a coon."

"That letter was genuine enough," observed Jack, thoughtfully; "and
fellows, perhaps you didn't notice the thing, but there were blurs on
that writing, just as if somebody had been crying, and the tears
dropped on the paper.  Whether it was poor old George Washington,
feeling awful lonely, and hungry, who wept; or his wife while she was
writing the note, doesn't matter.  But those marks went a big way
toward convincing me his story was genuine."

Somehow Josh turned red, and no more was said.  Those happy-go-lucky
lads could feel for the sentiment that had caused those tears.

"That's Chincoteague Light, ain't it?" asked Herb, after a while,
pointing ahead.

"Sure it is!" Jimmy cried.  "I saw it winking at me every time I woke
up last night, so I did, me bhoy!"

"Then we strike across that inlet soon?" suggested George, showing just
the slightest sign of nervousness, Jack thought.

Of the three skippers, George had the most cause for looking serious
whenever there arose any chance for trouble, either through a storm, or
tidal currents.  His speed boat, being so very narrow in beam, and
cranky, was least fitted to contend with raging seas; since there must
always be great danger of an upset.

"In less than half an hour we'll spin across and get behind Wallop's
Island.  As the tide is pretty well up, we ought to make the riffle
there.  I'd hate to get stuck in the mud, and have to wait ten or
twelve hours for another tide to float us off," Jack made answer; for,
as he had the charts, they always looked to him for information.

"Then what next?" asked Herb, wishing to be posted.

"In an hour or more we ought to reach Assawaman Inlet, and after that
will come Gargathy, Matomkin, and then Watchapreague; which last is
said to be the most dangerous along the whole coast," replied the
commodore of the fleet.

"You don't say!" ejaculated George, pretending to look unconcerned;
"and just why is that, please?"

"Well, it happens to be wider than any other, and the currents are
fierce.  Besides, some of the natives declare there are mermaids, or
something after that order, that try to overturn boats crossing."

At that the boys let out a combined yell.

"Me for a pretty mermaid, then!" cried Nick.  "I always did want to
have a chat with one of those fair damsels of the sea, ever since I
read how they used to comb their hair and sing to the mariners in those
old days of Greece."

"Makes a fellow think of all the old mythological things," declared
George.

"That's right," Herb declared.  "You remember about Scylla and
Charybdis, the two fabled monsters that used to alarm the old chaps
hundreds and hundreds of years ago; but which turned out to be a
dangerous rock and a big sucker hole, called a whirlpool?  That's what
ails this old inlet, I guess.  The currents suck hard; and these
crackers along the coast think unseen hands are trying to drag them
down."

"What I don't like about it," remarked Josh, "is the sharks."

"Oh!  I see you have been reading about it, then," said Jack, quickly.
"I didn't mean to say anything about those monsters."

"Then there are sharks around?" demanded George; while Nick turned a
little pale as he leaned over the side of the speed boat and listened.

"Yes; all accounts agree on that score," Jack admitted.  "But if we
manage right, and take the inlet at the proper time, there's no reason
why any of us should bother our heads about the scaly pirates of the
sea."

"I only hope none of 'em butt up against the _Wireless_, that's all,"
grunted the skipper of the narrow boat.

"Gracious! do you think there's any chance of that?" asked Nick,
looking as though he half felt like begging Herb to take him aboard at
the crucial time, only that he hated to show the white feather.

"Oh! hardly," laughed Jack, desirous of cheering the other up.

"Still, it might be wise for Nick to keep under cover while we're
making that same passage across," suggested Josh, wickedly.

"And just why me, any more than you?" demanded the fat boy, indignantly.

"Well, the sight of such a bag of bones as me wouldn't be apt to stir
those man-eaters up to any extent; but if they caught a glimpse of such
a rolypoly morsel as you, Nick, it would set 'em wild."

"Oh! let up, won't you?" grumbled Nick.  "This is too serious a subject
to make fun over.  I don't just hanker to make a dinner for any old
shark, and don't you forget it, Josh Purdue."

They crossed the inlet at Chincoteague without the slightest trouble.
Beyond lay Wallop's Island, and their speed had to be considerably
reduced while navigating the tortuous and narrow channel lying between
that body of reedy land and the main shore.

Despite the wideawake work of the pilot in the _Tramp_, there was
always a liability of some boat charging upon an unseen mudbank; and
hence it was advisable to take things rather easy, so that in case of
such a disaster, it would be possible to pull off again, with the help
of the other boats.

Then came the next inlet, which was also crossed easily.

"Say, nothing hard about this," George called out, as they headed once
more down the bay toward Gargathy Inlet.

"Lots of things look harder than they turn out to be," answered Herb,
who was having it easy enough in his wide-beamed craft.

"Still, be on your guard all the time," cautioned Jack, who meant to
keep near the erratic _Wireless_ all the time, because he felt it in
his bones that if any accident did happen it would be in that quarter.

At noon they drew up and went ashore on a sandspit, where they ate
lunch.  Nick of course "browsed" around, as he called it, in search of
oysters, and was speedily rewarded by discovering a supply.  Indeed,
they had hard work making him break away, when Jack tooted his conch
shell as the signal for a start.

Matomkin Inlet proved as easy as the others.

"Now for the terror!" remarked George, as later in the afternoon they
approached the spot where Watchapreague lay.

Ahead they could see the whitecaps marking the fierce cross currents
that have given this half-mile wide inlet its bad name.  Many a wreck
of shore boats has taken place here, and lives been lost.

"We might as well get over now, as in the morning, for the tide is as
good as it will ever be.  Those whitecaps are caused by the wind
blowing from the shore, and the tide coming in," Jack decided, as they
advanced steadily on.

"And in case of any accident, then, a fellow couldn't be carried out to
sea," George remarked, with what seemed like a distinct look of relief.

So the start was made.  All around them the water fairly boiled, and
unseen influences apparently tugged at the frail little craft, as
though the fingers of those fabled monsters were gripping their keels.

They were just about the middle and most dangerous spot when George
gave a sudden cry.  It was echoed by a wail from Nick.  Looking up,
Jack discovered a sight that thrilled him to the core.  The erratic
_Wireless_ had chosen to play its skipper a nasty trick at just the
time it should have been on its best behavior, coming to a stop with
such abruptness that poor Nick lost his hold forward, and went
splashing into the water like a giant frog!




CHAPTER XI.

A STUNNING DISCOVERY.

In an instant all was confusion!

All sorts of shouts broke from the boys; and George, leaning over the
side of his stalled _Wireless_, in the vain hope of being able to
clutch the boy who was in the dangerous waters of the inlet, came near
upsetting his tottering boat completely.

Nick had disappeared as soon as he struck the water, but such a fat
fellow could not long remain under the surface, so he speedily made his
appearance, struggling terribly, and looking badly frightened.

There had been a time when Nick could not swim a stroke; but, by
keeping heroically at it, he had managed to master the art to some
extent.  Desperation assisted him in this predicament, and the way he
threshed the water was a caution.  Herb afterwards declared it beat any
old stern-wheel towboat he had ever seen, charging up the current of
the mighty Mississippi.

Luckily enough, Jack had anticipated something of this sort.  That was
why he had persisted in keeping as close to the speed boat as he dared,
without risking a collision.  He later on said he felt it in his bones
that if the _Wireless_ had one more kink of evil in her, she was just
bound to let it out at the most critical moment.  And it had proven
just so.

The first thing Jack did when he saw the head and wildly plunging arms
of his fat chum appear, was to hurl the life preserver he had snatched
up from the spot where he kept it handy.

And so well aimed was the cork buoy that it fell just in front of the
struggling Nick, who gave a half-strangled whoop, doubtless under the
impression that it was a shark, or perhaps one of those same mermaids
he had declared it his ambition to meet face to face.

"Grab hold of it, Nick!" shouted George, excitedly.

"It's a life preserver.  Get a grip on it, Nick!" bellowed Jack, as he
gradually turned the nose of the _Tramp_ around, meaning to bear down
upon the imperiled boy.

Luckily Nick heard what they said, for he was seen to make a wild
clutch for the floating buoy, and catch hold of it before the
treacherous swirls carried it beyond his reach.

"Oh! look there!" shrieked Jimmy.  "That must be the fin of a shark!"

It was.

And further along Jack even caught sight of several more.  The fierce
creatures had heard the splash, and apparently scenting a fine dinner,
were dashing this way and that, bent upon finding the object that had
made all the rumpus.

"George, get your gun, and be ready to shoot!" said Jack, himself pale
now with sudden anxiety.

So the skipper of the _Wireless_, understanding that this was a time to
keep cool if they would save their cheery comrade, reached down under
the side of his boat.  When he bobbed up a few seconds later he was
clutching his rifle, which he had brought along, in the faint hope that
before the long cruise was done he might get a deer, or even a bear,
with it.

Now the nose of the _Tramp_ was heading straight for the spot where
Nick clung to the life buoy.

"Splash as hard as you can!" shrilled Josh, who seemed to remember that
sharks can sometimes be kept away by this means.

And immediately the fat boy exerted himself at a great rate, his legs
and one arm beating the water until it sounded like a vast mill in
action.

But as Jack cast a swift glance around he saw that the nearest shark
was heading straight toward poor Nick.  Jimmy had heard what was said
to George.  He, too, had pulled out a shotgun, and was cowering close
by, holding the weapon in his hands, and with a grim look of "do or
die" on his freckled face.

Bang! went the rifle in George's hands.

The bullet struck the water above the advancing monster, but seemed to
do no particular damage, for they could see that he was still coming
directly on.

Now the prow of the _Tramp_ was just alongside Nick; but the shark
seemed dreadfully close, too.  Dropping his hold on the wheel, Jack
bent over to clutch the shoulders of the fat boy.  He knew that he
would have a tremendous task dragging him aboard, soaked as his clothes
were; but desperation causes those who try, to perform wonderful deeds,
and Jack felt equal to most anything just then.

He was still dragging Nick upward, and the other was trying to help
himself as well as he was able, when the big fish, rushing under,
seemed to turn over while opening his terrible mouth, lined with cruel
teeth.

And then Jimmy, who had been holding his fire for a good opportunity,
sent the contents of the shotgun straight into that distended mouth.

Jack pulled his chum aboard, and almost fell himself, such was the
relief that passed over him.  The boat was whirling around in the mad
currents, but as Jack again took the wheel he quickly mastered its
erratic movements.

"Sure, I guv him the cowld meal, that toime, I did!" shouted the
delighted Jimmy, threatening to attempt a real jig in his excitement.
"How d'ye like cowld lead, me bully bhoy?  Next toime take one of your
own kind, will ye, and lave our chum be.  Look at the bog-trotter
kicking out yonder, would ye?  Don't I hope some of his kind will ate
him up now.  It's the biter bitten, fellows.  Look! by the powers, if
they ain't tacklin' the gossoon, so they are!"

It was even so, for the wildest commotion was taking place out in the
quarter where the wounded shark had been struggling.

Even Nick managed to crawl to the side of the boat and gape.  A look of
satisfaction took the place of the frightened expression on his round
face.

"Anyhow, he didn't get me, did he, fellows?" Nick seemed to find a
strange pleasure in repeating time and again, in a hysterical way.

The remainder of the inlet was readily passed, George managing to get a
rope to the skipper of the _Comfort_, who towed the tricky speed boat
to safety.

Jack did not mean to lose that life preserver, and he had Jimmy get it
with the boathook as they passed by.  It had served Nick a good turn,
and showed the wisdom of one being always prepared for trouble.

Nick was shaking at a great rate.  This might come partly from his
recent excitement, but Jack knew that the air was rather cool to one
who sat in garments saturated with salt water.

"We'd better be on the lookout for a camping ground somewhere on
Paramore Island, here," he remarked.  "A fire would come in handy for
Nick; and, besides, I reckon we've done all we ought to for one day.
If tomorrow pans out as lucky, we ought to get in touch with the
lighthouse at Cape Charles."

"Well, I only hope," sighed Nick, between shivers, "that the programme
will be a bit varied tomorrow.  If there _has_ to be somebody go
overboard to hunt for mermaids, let me off, won't you, fellows?"

"We'll think it over, Nick," called George, who was taking it easy now,
since his engine was dead, and the _Comfort_ drawing him along in its
wake.

They presently discovered a place that seemed to promise a certain
amount of comfort; and so a landing was made.

"Smells like oysters around here, fellows," was the first remark Nick
made, as he scrambled ashore, and started to thresh his arms about, in
the endeavor to get up a circulation--Jack had advised this as a
preventative against a cold.

"Well, I honestly believe that chap would think of eating if he heard
the angel Gabriel tooting his horn," declared Herb.  "He'd say that he
wanted to be fortified again the journey across that old river Styx."

"Sure, I would!" admitted the grinning fat boy, frankly.  "Anyhow,
oysters are good stuff, whichever way you take 'em, and that nobody can
deny.  Get your old fire going, so I can change my clothes, and have an
hour to gather a crop.  Josh said if I got enough he'd give us
scalloped oysters for supper.  Yum! yum! don't that just make your
mouths water, boys?  It does mine."

The fire was soon going, and beside its cheery heat Nick made the
change.  His soaked garments were hung up to dry the best they could,
though it is a hard job when clothes have been in salt water.

Then, with a tin pail Nick set out to gather his beloved shellfish,
signs of which had been noted near by.

In half an hour he had deposited three pails of what seemed to be very
fair bivalves in a pile near the fire.

"Set some of the others to work opening them, Josh," Nick observed.
"My fingers are too sore for the job.  Besides, I've done my part,
seems like, in getting the crop gathered."

Jack and Jimmy took hold, and with the oyster knives soon began to fill
a receptacle with the contents of the shells.

Nick was busying himself whacking a few open on the side, "just to test
them," as he said; for they noticed that he made no contributions to
the general fund.

"A trifle salty, but just prime," the judge of oysters remarked,
several times, as he devoured a fat one.  "This is worth coming for,
boys.  The coast for me every time, when you can get such treats as
this.  Think I gathered enough?  Want any more, Josh?"

"Oh! hould up!" cried Jimmy, whose fingers were getting sore from the
various cuts received from the sharp edges.  "Sure, we've got enough
for a rigiment, so we have.  Just ate up the balance yoursilf, and stow
your gab, Nick."

A short time later, Jack, who had been rummaging around aboard the
_Tramp_, called out:

"Anybody see my old coat lying around loose?"

At that, Jimmy uttered a startled cry and jumped up.

"Glory be!" he exclaimed.  "I forgot all about that, Jack, darlint.  It
must have been your coat that wint overboard in the inlet, and sank,
while I was shootin' the murderous shark.  And by the powers, that is
too bad, beca'se it had that bally ould paper missage in it ye was to
deliver to Van Arsdale Spence at Beaufort!"

The other boys echoed the disconsolate cry of Jimmy, and looked at
Jack, as if they felt the greatest pity for him in his unfortunate loss.




CHAPTER XII.

THE CAMP UNDER CAPE CHARLES LIGHT.

"Say, he don't look bothered a teenty bit!" exclaimed Josh, surprised
because Jack seemed so free from care.

"And look at him, would you!" burst out Herb; "why, blessed if he ain't
grinning right now, to beat the band!"

"Here, own up, Jack, old boy, what's got you?  Didn't you care much
whether you ever got that mysterious packet into the hands of this
Spence fellow?" demanded George.

"To be sure, I did; and do yet," replied Jack; "but that's no reason
why I ought to go around pulling a long face and whimpering, especially
since no milk has been spilled after all."

"But, sure, it was the ould coat as I saw go over!" ejaculated Jimmy,
stubbornly.

"I guess it must have been, because I just can't find the same
anywhere," admitted the other, nodding.

"And ye put that packet in the inside pocket, beca'se I saw ye," Jimmy
went on.

"Yes, I did," Jack chuckled; "but then none of you saw me take it out
again later and stow it in another place.  You see, I seemed to have an
idea my coat might get lost, because half the time I have it off."

"Then the packet is,--where?" asked George, brightening up.

"Down in the bottom of my fishing tackle box at this very minute, and
not in the stomach of a Watchapreague shark!" declared Jack,
confidently.

"Hurrah!  Count another for our wise ould chum, Jack.  He's got the
long head, so he has.  Let's have a squint at the documint again, now.
'Twould be good for sore eyes to glimpse the same!" Jimmy declared,
enthusiastically.

So Jack had to get out his fishing tackle box, and, dipping down into
its depths, produce the valuable packet.

After that, preparations for supper were allowed to go on apace.  As
for the missing coat, Jack declared that it did not amount to much,
anyhow, as he had another handy.  And besides, with a sweater to fall
back upon in case of cold occasions, he had no regrets.

"I wonder will we really find this party, when we get around Beaufort?"
Herb remarked, as they sat there, watching Josh wrestle with the broken
crackers which, with the large pan of oysters, were to form the mess
which, cooked as best they could over the red coals of the fire, would
form the main part of the meal.

"We will, if anybody can," replied Jack, with determination in his
manner.

"You just bet we will," affirmed Nick, showing unexpected interest in
the idea.

The fact was, despite the many raw oysters he had swallowed, Nick was
almost famished, and was trying the best he knew how to keep his
attention from the slow preparations being made for supper.

But all in good time the meal was pronounced ready.  Josh, in lieu of
an oven in which to bake his scalloped oysters, had kept the pan on the
fire, with a cover over the top; and really it had been pretty well
browned.

They pronounced it simply delicious.  Nick softened toward his ancient
tormentor, Josh, and, patting him on the back, declared that when it
came to cooking he had them all "beaten to a frazzle."

"What's that light away off there to the south, Jack?" asked Herb,
after they had eaten to a standstill.

"I rather fancy that must be the Hog Island Light," replied the other.
"Before we make that, we have to cross another inlet, this time over a
mile wide; but they say Little Machipongo isn't in the same class as
that last one, for danger and ugly currents."

"Gee!  I hope not," grumbled Nick, who was scraping the pan in which
the oysters had been cooked so beautifully.

"Then comes Great Machipongo Inlet, and a few more for tomorrow, after
which we are due to reach Cape Charles," Jack went on, always ready to
impart information when he saw that his chums wanted to know anything.

"This whole coast seems to be a series of bays and sounds, connected by
little creeks and channels that, at flood time, can be safely navigated
by a boat that don't happen to draw many feet of water," Herb remarked.

"Yes, and that is the case pretty near all the way from New York to the
lower end of Florida," Jack observed.  "Some day it's going to be
possible to make the entire trip as easy as falling off a log.  The
Government is doing a heap of dredging in lots of places."

"Yes," remarked George, sarcastically; "if they'd only put some of the
millions in here that they squander on good-for-nothing creeks in the
backwoods, it'd be done in no time."

"Huh!" grunted Nick, "I'd just like to have the fat contract for
dredging out some of these muddy creeks.  Say, mebbe a fellow wouldn't
get rich on the job, eh?  I think I'll have to mention it to my dad,
for he's keen on contracts, you know."

They passed a pleasant evening.  Jimmy was easily induced to get out
his banjo and give them many brisk tunes that seemed to just go with
the plunkety-plunk of the joyous instrument.

"Seems like a banjo just chimes in with Southern scenes," remarked Herb.

"Oh! shucks! this ain't the Sunny South yet awhile, Herb," laughed
Josh.  "Wait till we get down in South Carolina, anyhow, where we'll
run across some palmetto trees.  That gives the real tropical flavor."

"If there were only some monkeys frisking about in the feathery tops,
it'd add a heap to it, in my opinion," remarked Nick.

"Or a few coy mermaids," laughed Jack; "but then our friend here
wouldn't find it quite so easy to climb to the top of a palmetto as to
tumble overboard."

"Let up on that, won't you, Jack?  It's mean, rubbing it in so hard,"
complained the object of the roar that followed.

In this way, then, the evening passed.  As the mosquitoes began to get
in their work later, the boys changed their minds, and concluded to
sleep aboard, instead of on shore, as they had at first intended.

With the morning, things began to happen again.  Breakfast was eaten
first, and then Jack, who had been assisting George examine his motor,
discovered the cause of the unfortunate stop, so that the freakish
engine was now apparently all right again.

They crossed both the Machipongo Inlets without any accident, though it
was evident that the skipper of the _Wireless_ was more or less
nervous, and kept hovering close to the other boats, with an eye on the
ropes which they kept coiled in the stern.

And Nick also crouched down in the body of the boat, gripping some
substantial part of the framework, with the grim air of one who had
determined not to be pitched out into the water again, come what would.

Both heaved plain sighs of relief when the crossings were made without
the least trouble.  Cobb's Island now lay close by, and beyond were
several more openings, where the sea connected with the shore waters.
But these were small compared with those already navigated, and with a
fair amount of caution they had no need to borrow trouble longer.

"There's what we're aiming to reach by evening, fellows!" remarked
Jack, about the middle of the afternoon.

Following the direction in which his extended hand pointed, the others
could see a lighthouse not a great way ahead, though it might take some
time to reach it by way of winding connecting creeks.

"The great Cape Charles Light, ain't it, Jack?" demanded Herb.

"Just what it is," replied the commodore.

"Then, tomorrow we'll have to cross the mouth of the Chesapeake and
arrive at Norfolk or Portsmouth; is that the programme?" asked George.

"If everything looks good to us, yes," replied Jack, seriously.  "We
want to take as few chances, you know, as we must.  And that twenty
miles is a big trip for our little craft.  All depends on the wind and
the sky.  But there are always lots of boats around here; and if we got
in a peck of trouble they'd help us out."

"That's a comfort," remarked Nick.  "It was bad enough dropping
overboard in that inlet, and I don't hanker to try it in the ocean
itself.  Excuse me, boys; I pass.  I've shown you how to do the trick;
some one else take the next try."

"We'll hope there isn't going to be any next, like the little boy's
apple core," Jack laughed.

Then they had to drop into single file as the channel narrowed again,
with the pilot boat _Tramp_ leading the way as usual.

"This is Smith Island, and the one on which the lighthouse is built.
We ought to bring up there in short order now, when the mouth of the
bay will be spread in front of us like a picture," Jack called, over
his shoulder.

"All very nice," grumbled Nick; "but as for me, I'd much rather it was
spread out _behind_ us," and George doubtless echoed the thought,
though too proud to show any nervousness over the prospective trip on
the open sea.

At least Jack's prediction came true, for they did succeed in making
the point of the island where the Cape Charles Light stood, a beacon to
all vessels trying to enter the great Chesapeake Bay.

Far across the heaving waters lay Norfolk, Portsmouth, and Fortress
Monroe, the Government station.  Near here one of the most important
naval engagements of the Civil War was fought, when Ericsson's "cheese
on a raft," the _Monitor_, faced the terrible Confederate ironclad ram,
_Merrimac_, and forced her to retire, after it seemed as though the
entire wooden United States navy was to be at the mercy of the enemy.

No doubt many of these events thronged the minds of the four high
school lads as they stood there on the sandy beach looking across that
stretch of sea toward the object of their expectation.  And George,
with Nick a good second, must have devoutly wished the labor of the
next twenty-four hours were completed, with the little fleet at safe
anchorage off the town of Norfolk, which they had determined to visit,
so as to get their mail, and secure a few fresh supplies, since the
hungry Nick was making a terrible hole in what they carried.

And on this October night they camped ashore under the gleaming Cape
Charles Light.




CHAPTER XIII.

A SHOUT AT MIDNIGHT.

In the morning, after they had eaten an early breakfast, the boys
called on the keeper of the light, and were allowed to climb to the top
of the tower.  Here a glorious panorama was spread before them, with
many miles of the sea to the east, the sandy shore line stretching far
to the dim north, and one of the most beautiful pictures opening out to
the southwest, where lay Norfolk and those other places of interest,
across twenty miles of green waters that glistened in the early October
sunlight.

Jack asked many questions concerning tides and prevailing winds.  He
also noted the lay of the course they must follow in making their
passage across to the other side.

The genial keeper gave him numerous points that might be of value.  He
also declared it as his opinion that they could not have a better day
for the trip, as the sea was comparatively smooth, and the wind light,
as well as from a favorable quarter.

And so the boys returned to their boats, determined to make the effort
to cross while the chances were so much in their favor.

Nick was only waiting to be invited aboard the good old _Comfort_; and
Jack, who believed that it would be better to have only one to occupy
their attention in case anything went wrong with the untamed speed
boat, asked George if he had any objections to letting his crew change
ships, to which the other immediately replied that such a thing would
please him immensely.

"I can manage her much better without a cargo, fellows," he declared,
earnestly.  "Now, listen to him, would you, calling me a cargo?"
whimpered Nick; but while he thus pretended to be offended, it was
laughable to see how quickly he made the transfer, as though afraid
Jack might change his mind, or George want him to stay.

About nine o'clock the start was made, as the tide would be most
favorable around that time, the lighthouse keeper had told them.

Since the _Comfort_ had been overhauled she was capable of making
better time than previously, when she was known as the "Tub" by the
rest of the boys.  Herb declared he could take her across in two hours,
though Jack privately believed it would be nearer three before they
reached Norfolk.

It turned out to be a hedge, just two and a half hours elapsing from
the time they made the start until they drew up near the big wharves at
Norfolk.

However, time was not giving these happy-go-lucky lads the least
uneasiness just at present, so long as they did reach port in safety.

"And it's just as well we started so early," Jack remarked, "because
the wind is freshening all the while, and it will be blowing great guns
out there before long.

"Hey, Josh! why not make a change again, and you get aboard the
_Comfort_?" proposed Nick, who hated to give up a good thing.

"No you don't," retorted Josh, "not any for me.  You just go and stew
in your own gravy, will you?  Took me a whole month to get the creak
out of my bones after the last time you coaxed me to change places.
Over you get, now, or else it's a ducking for yours, my boy," and Josh
advanced in a warlike manner on the fat youth.

So, sighing like a martyr, Nick felt compelled to clamber into the
speed boat.

"You ought to have one for your own sweet self," declared George, as he
grasped the gunnel to keep from being tossed overboard, for Nick
careened the boat dreadfully upon climbing in.  "Why, you just don't
know how fine the old _Wireless_ acted on the way over, with only me
aboard."

"I wish I did have a boat, as big as a house," declared Nick.  "I'm
wasting away to a mere shadow trying to keep my balance in this wedge.
If I forget to breathe with both lungs at the same time he tells me I'm
upsetting the equilibrium of the blessed thing.  I feel most all the
time like I'm the acrobat in the circus trying to stand on one toe on
top of a flagpole."

After they had tied up, Herb was dispatched for the mail, while Jack
went to buy a few provisions.  Nick bombarded him with such a fearful
list of things he wanted him to purchase that Jack had to thrust his
fingers in his ears.

"What do you take me for, Nick, a dray horse?" he laughed.  "I'd have
to be, to carry the load you'd want.  I've got a list of things we must
have, and that's all I'll promise to lug down here.  If you want
anything else, you'll have to go after it yourself."

"All right, I'll do that," said Nick, promptly.

"Sure; and please tell me where you expect to stow all that truck?"
demanded George, immediately, with a frown.  "Not aboard the
_Wireless_, I promise you, my boy.  She's got all she can carry in
hauling you around, without a sack of potatoes, a ham, and all that
truck you mentioned.  Hire a float, and perhaps we'll tow it behind us."

Nick said not another word, being completely squelched, as Josh put it.

Leaving Norfolk, they started up the broad Elizabeth River, meaning to
take the Albemarle and Chesapeake Canal, which had long ago been cut
through the Great Dismal Swamp and connected with Currituck Sound, that
noted ducking place where so many large gun clubs have their
headquarters.

Entering this canal, they moved along steadily through the balance of
the afternoon.  On all sides lay the most interesting sights; for the
moss hung heavily on the dismal-looking trees, and the boys thought
they had never seen a more depressing picture than was now presented to
their gaze.

"Say, Jack, do we get out of this place tonight?" asked Herb, who was
not particularly fond of swamps and such ghostly places.

"No, we made out to start a little too late to get to the little river
beyond before night sets in," Jack replied.

"But there's a pretty good sized moon now, you remember, and we might
keep on.  I'm afraid it'll give me the jim-jams to sleep in this
horrible old swamp," Herb went on to say.

"Like to oblige you," laughed Jack; "but the fact is we're going to tie
up mighty soon now.  Only looking for a half way decent place."

"What's all the hurry?" grumbled the pilot of the _Comfort_.

"Look aloft and you'll soon see," came the reply, which caused Herb to
cast his eyes upward.

"Holy smoke! we're going to get some storm, I take it!" he immediately
exclaimed, as he saw heavy clouds mounting upward.  "And to think that
nobody discovered the fact but you, Jack.  Yes, I reckon, then, we'll
have to tie up, and get George's boat tent up before she comes.  I'll
just have to grin and bear it."

"That's the way to talk, Herb," said Josh.  "What difference does it
make to us, tight in our snug little hunting cabin?  If anybody made a
kick it ought to be the poor _Wireless_ crew."

"Here, don't you waste your breath pitying us, now," flashed the
jealous George, who could never bear to have any one but himself run
his boat down.

There seemed but little choice of a camping place, since the shores of
the canal proved to be pretty much alike; so presently Jack threw up
his hand as a signal that he meant to stop, and the three boats were
soon being tied to trees.

"You'd think Herb expected a tornado, and wanted to make sure his old
houseboat didn't get carried away," laughed George, as he watched the
other secure both ends of the _Comfort_ with cables, that he tested
again and again.

"Oh, well, you never can tell," replied the other, without showing the
least ill will; "and 'a stitch in time saves nine,' they taught me at
home.  'What's worth doing at all is worth doing well', and sometimes
it pays."

"It always pays in a contented mind," remarked Jack, who admired this
positive trait in Herbert's nature, so different from George's flighty
ways.

It was the case of the hare and the tortoise over again with these two;
and while the speedy hare lay down to take a nap, confident of winning,
the slow going tortoise was apt to come along and get to the goal
first, after all.

The rain held off for a while, and they were able to cook supper
ashore, though Josh kept as anxious eye on those dark clouds overhead
while he worked.

"It's going to prove a big fizzle after all," remarked Nick, after a
little water had come down, and the moon peeped out of a break in the
clouds.

"Perhaps so; you never can tell what the weather will do," Jack
laughed.  "But all the same we'll be apt to sleep aboard again, for
fear it does rain before morning."

"You bet we will," remarked Herb; "at least this chicken does.  Ugh!
I'd wake up, and think a raft of snakes was creeping out of that old
swamp there.  Are you all of the same mind about bunking aboard?"

"If anybody will go me, I'll stay ashore," announced Nick, to the
surprise of his chums; but then they knew the narrow confines of the
speed boat cramped his ample form, and that explained his boldness.
"That is, if George will only let me have his gun too."

"Sure I will, and only too glad," declared that worthy, eagerly.  "I'd
like to stretch all over the bally old boat myself, for once."

Jimmy took up Nick's offer, and so Jack set to work making them a rude
sort of canopy that was calculated to shed water fairly well.  It was
composed of branches from nearby trees, and might be called a hunter's
lean-to.

When the time came for retiring, the two boys lay down under this,
drawing their blankets around them, for the night air was chilly.

"If it rains too hard, crawl in where you belong," was the last
instruction Jack gave them before seeking the bed he had made in the
_Tramp's_ interior.

Later on all was silent about the camp on the canal.  From the swamp
near by various queer sounds might have been heard, had any one
remained awake to listen; but as the boys were all pretty tired, no
doubt they slept well.

It might have been in the middle of the night that Jack was aroused by
a loud shout, which he recognized as coming from Nick.  Wondering what
it meant, he immediately started to climb out of the boat, gun in hand,
when there came a tremendous report.  Evidently Nick, whether he had
seen something suspicious or was dreaming he did, had fired George's
borrowed gun!




CHAPTER XIV.

NICK BAGS HIS GAME.

"Whoop!  I got him!"

That was certainly Nick shouting in an exultant strain; and as Jack
glanced in the direction of the lean-to he saw the fat boy hunching his
pudgy figure out, gun in hand--for the moon had not yet set in the west.

Then Jack caught the sound of something struggling in the brush close
by.  Not knowing what it might prove to be, he was in no hurry to jump
over that way.

"What did you shoot at, Nick?" he demanded, as the excited boy
scrambled awkwardly to his feet, and appeared anxious to renew the
engagement; at the same time Jack made sure to lay hold on the other's
gun, lest he open fire recklessly.

"I d--d--don't know for sure," stammered Nick; "but it looked awfully
like a tiger."

"What?" exclaimed Jack, astonished.  "Why, don't you know there isn't
such an animal in North America?"

"Might have been a striped skunk, Jack?" suggested Josh, who had poked
his head out from the cabin of the _Comfort_.

"Or a zebra escaped from a menagerie," Herb remarked.

"All right, have all the fun you want, fellows," said Nick, doggedly;
"but all the same, whatever it was, I got it."

"That's just what he did, boys, I reckon," Jack declared; "because you
can hear it kicking its last over yonder in the bushes.  Here, where's
that lantern of ours, Jimmy?  I let you have it, remember?  Light up,
and show me the way in there."

Jimmy quickly applied a match to the wick, and as the light flared up,
he swung the lantern in his hand.

"Who's afraid?" he said, boldly, as he started toward the spot where
silence now reigned.  "Come along after me, Jack, darlint; and please
remimber that if the beast springs at me, I depind on you to knock
spots out of him.  Keep back, the rest of ye, now, till we solve the
puzzle."

Jack kept his gun in readiness, for there could be no telling what lay
beyond that fringe of bushes.

"I do be seein' somethin' there on the ground, Jack.  Looky yonder,
honey, an' sure ye can't miss the same, by the token," Jimmy presently
said, in a low, strained voice, as he pointed a trembling finger ahead.

"Yes, I see something," Jack admitted.  "Go on, Jimmy, take a few more
steps.  No matter what a ferocious monster it may prove to be, I rather
guess Nick nailed it with that charge of shot at close range."

They kept on advancing, and the nearer they drew the bolder Jimmy
seemed to grow, until presently both boys stood over the victim of
Nick's fire.

Then they broke out into a shout that made the weird echoes leap out of
the depths of Dismal Swamp.

"Tare and ounds!" burst forth Jimmy, "if 'tisn't a shoat afther all he
killed."

"Say rather a full grown razorback pig," laughed Jack, as he noted the
sharp snout of the rooter, and its slab sides.

Jimmy immediately bent down and gripped the beast by one of its hind
legs.

"'Tis a roast of frish pork we'll be afther havin' the morrow," he
declared.  "They do be sayin' that these same Virginia pigs have the
flavor of the bist Irish pork; an' I've always wanted to try the same.
Think of Nick being the one to give us this trate.  And if we iver run
up against the owner, it's Nick must stand the cost.  A tiger, did he
say?  He must have been saing double stripes the time."

When they backed into the camp, and the defunct pig was shown, a chorus
of yells arose from the balance of the crowd.  Even Nick joined in the
whooping.

"Laugh all you want to, fellows," he remarked, as he assumed a proud
attitude, leaning on his gun as though posing for his picture, with
that wild boar at his feet, as the spoils of the hunt.  "I thought it
was a wild beast about to attack the camp; and as the only one awake at
the time, I believed it my solemn duty to give him both barrels, which
I did.  And what's more, you see that I got him.  Now, what do you say
about my marksmanship, Josh Purdue?"

"Not a word," returned that worthy, throwing up both hands.  "Why, you
peppered the poor beast from bow to stern.  Won't we have a fine time
picking the shot out of our teeth, if we try to eat him?  But Jack, do
they ever make use of such awful thin-looking hogs as this?"

"Of course, they do," replied the other, quickly.  "All razorbacks are
thin.  They live in the woods and swamps, feeding on mast, which means
acorns and nuts and sweet roots.  That's what gives their flesh the
sweet taste it has, a sort of gamey flavor, they say, though I never
really ate part of a genuine razorback."

"But you will now, I hope," remarked Nick.  "This is my treat, and I
hereby cordially invite you, one and all, to partake with me when our
chef has a chance to cook one of these fresh hams."

"He just wants us to be in it as deep as he is, so if the owner shows
up we'll stand by him," chuckled Josh.

"Well, we ought to stand back of him," asserted Jack; "because Nick
really rested under the belief that he was protecting the camp from the
prowling monster.  Of course, we accept your kind invite, Nick; and
now, let's get back under the blankets as fast as we can, because it's
kind of cool out here."

All of them made haste to do so save Nick, who lingered for some time
to fairly gloat over his quarry.  Seldom had the fat boy been enabled
to bring down any species of game worth mentioning, so that his
excitement was easily understood.

On the next morning Jack cut up the lean pig, having a fair knowledge
of the methods employed in such a case.  Of course, none of them just
fancied living off some man's property, and if they could only find out
who the owner of the razorback was they would have only too gladly paid
whatever it was worth.

But whether they ever did find him out or not, it would be a wicked
shame to let all that sweet meat go to waste.  And that very morning
they had some pretty nice chops from the pig's ribs, which gave them a
taste at any rate.

That morning they continued to move south through Currituck Sound.
There were some ducks in sight, and more arriving, but only an
occasional discharge of a gun came to their ears.  Once Jack pointed to
a wedge-shaped line of geese standing out against the clear sky far
above, and heading still further south for some favorite feeding bar.

That night they camped on Roanoke Island, and the boys knew that they
had made gallant progress through a portion of North Carolina.

"Tomorrow we will, I expect, get through Albemarle Sound, which is
something like twenty-five miles in length," Jack remarked, as around a
cheery fire that night they talked of what lay just before them.

"And after that, what?" questioned Herb.

"There's a lighthouse at the head of the narrower Croaton Sound, and if
you look over there to the east right now you'll see the one on Body
Island at Oregon Inlet.  We've got to cross there first of all, you
see."

"More inlets beyond that, are there?" asked George, trying to look
indifferent.

"Two more before we reach Hatteras in Pamlico Sound, and known as New
Inlet and Loggerhead.  That last one is a hummer, too, I understand;
but it can't be any worse than some we've successfully negotiated,"
Jack answered.

"Particularly that Watchapreague one," chuckled Josh, "where the jolly
mermaids lie in wait to coax all handsome fellows overboard."

"Huh! that's right," remarked Nick; "and I noticed that you stayed
aboard all right, Josh."

"Nothing to bother about with any of them, if only the boats behave
half way decently," declared Jack.  "If the engine of the _Wireless_
hadn't balked just when it did, George wouldn't have had any trouble."

"And I'd have been saved my bath," chuckled Nick.

"But what of me, kind sors?" broke in Jimmy, in his thickest brogue,
assumed, no doubt, for the occasion.  "I'd have lost me chanct to win
immortal glory.  Didn't I be afther fillin' that beast of a shark with
lead, so that his cronies they tore him into bits, an' devoured him in
a jiffy.  Give the divvle his dues, boys."

"Yes," Jack hastened to say, "give Jimmy all that's coming to him,
fellows.  He deserves it," at which there was a roar.

Starting again in the morning, the southward run was resumed.  All were
now in a good humor.  They seemed to be able to surmount any and all
difficulties as fast as they arose; and this disposition made them
light-hearted in the extreme.

One of the hams had been cooked in an oven on the preceding night, and
proved to be very tender eating after all.

Albemarle Sound was passed, and the one beyond it.  Even the dreaded
Loggerhead Inlet proved to be a hollow mockery, in so far as giving
them any real trouble went, for they crossed it with the utmost ease.

With several hours of daylight still ahead, they entered upon the great
wide Pamlico Sound, which in places is all of twenty miles from shore
to shore.  As it is extremely shallow in many places, this body of
water makes a treacherous sailing ground, and many a boat has met with
disaster while navigating it.

They had not been an hour afloat on Pamlico before Jack was sorry he
had started.  Once more clouds had scurried above the horizon, and were
mounting with great fleetness.  And this time he believed that the
storm would not prove a tempest in a teapot, as the last one had turned
out to be.

Vainly they looked about them for a haven of safety.  There was
absolutely no point of land where the water was of sufficient depth to
allow of their finding a temporary harbor.

The clouds were climbing higher with a rapidity that told of the wind
that must soon sweep across that wide body of water with cruel violence.

"Whew! perhaps we ain't in for it now!" called George, as he drew up
closer to the others, to find out what Jack had to say; for strange as
it might seem, when peril confronted the boys of the Motor Boat Club,
they seemed to turn toward Jack with much the same confidence the
needle shows in pointing directly to the north.

"What can we do, Jack?" asked Nick, in more or less alarm, as they
plainly heard the distant growl of thunder; and in imagination the fat
boy could see himself in the cranky speed boat, as she caught the full
force of the wind, and turned turtle in the twenty-mile sound, amid the
crash of the storm.




CHAPTER XV.

A WARM WELCOME TO THE STORMY CAPE.

There was no time to waste.

One last glance around told Jack the necessity for prompt action, if he
wished to pull the little flotilla out of the bad hole in which they
seemed settled.

The storm was racing up from the southwest, beyond the distant
mainland.  Consequently, the eastern side of the great shallow sound
would presently become a boisterous place for craft the size of theirs.

"We've got to head into it, fellows!" was his decision, as he began to
change the course of the _Tramp_ to conform with his views.

It looked like heroic treatment, but neither Herb nor George murmured.
They saw what the commodore had in mind, and that every mile they were
able to forge ahead would decrease the peril.  Indeed, if they could
only manage to reach a point close in to that western shore, they would
escape the brunt of the rising waves, and only have to think of holding
their own against the wind itself.

"Full speed, _Comfort_?" called Jack, waving an encouraging hand toward
the other.

Now George found himself perplexed as to what his course should be.  He
knew he could make almost twice the speed that the lumbering broad beam
boat was able to display at her best.  The question was, did he dare
risk it?

True, the _Wireless_ was in more danger out on that wide stretch than
any of the others, and it seemed good policy for him to speed for
shelter.  But what if one of those exasperating breakdowns, to which
the mechanism of the narrow boat seemed subject, should take place
without warning?

George shuddered as he contemplated such a possibility.  He could
easily imagine his feelings upon being cast helplessly adrift in the
midst of a raging gale, with his tried and true chums hidden from his
sight by the rain and blowing spindrift.

And so his decision was quickly made.  Of the two evils he chose what
seemed to be the lesser.  He would stick to the fleet.  Then, in case
of trouble, they could help each other like comrades.

Jack had kept an eye on the _Wireless_, for he guessed that just this
puzzling question would come up for George to solve.  And when he
failed to see the speed boat shooting away, leaving the others in the
lurch, he understood that the wise skipper had decided on the better
way.

They were making fine headway, but all the same the storm was doing
likewise; and unfortunately, at the time, they happened to be quite a
few miles away from the shore that promised shelter.

"What ails George, do ye know?" questioned Jimmy, who could not
understand why the other did not make with all speed ahead, as he had
been known to do on a former occasion, considering that the best course.

"That sudden stop on the part of his engine gave him a bad feeling,"
was Jack's reply.  "He doesn't trust it as he did, and is afraid that
it may repeat when he is in the midst of the storm.  So he's going to
stick by us, through thick and thin."

"It does his head credit, I'm thinkin'," declared Jimmy; and then, as
he stared hard into that inky space ahead, that was gradually creeping
up toward them, he continued: "Sure now, do ye think we can make it,
Jack darlint?"

"Well, we've just got to, that's all," the other replied, firmly.  "If
the wind doesn't blow us right out of the water, we'll keep on bucking
directly into it.  The fight will be a tough one, Jimmy; but make up
your mind we _must_ win out.  Half the battle is in confidence--that
and eternal watchfulness."

It was in this manner that Jack Stormways always impressed his chums
with some of the zeal by which his own actions were governed.  That
"never-give-up" spirit had indeed carried him through lots of hotly
contested battles on the gridiron or the diamond, wresting victory many
times from apparent defeat.

So they continued to push steadily on.  Jack counted every minute a
gain.  He kept a close watch upon the surface of the sound, knowing
that here they must first of all discover the swoop of the gale, as its
skirmishing breath struck the water.

The last movement of air seemed to have died out, yet this was the calm
that often precedes the coming of the storm, the deadly lull that makes
the tempest seem all the more terrible when it breaks.

Jack calculated that they had been some five miles from the western
shore at the time they changed their southern course, and headed to
starboard.  And as _Comfort_ could do no better than ten miles an hour,
under the most favorable conditions, it stood to reason that about half
an hour would be needed to place them in a position of safety.

"We won't get it, that's flat," he was saying to himself, as he noted
the way in which the clouds gathered for the rush.

Picking up the little megaphone which he carried, he shouted a few
sentences to the others.  While the air around them remained so calm,
the thunder was booming in the quarter where that black cloud hung
suspended, so that talking was already out of the question unless one
used some such contrivance for aiding the voice.

"George, better fall in just ahead of us, where we can get a line to
you in case you have engine trouble.  Two sharp blasts will tell us
that you want help.  Herb, try and keep as close to me as is safe!  We
must stick it out together, hear?"

Both of the other skippers waved their hands to indicate that they
understood, and doubtless George was given fresh courage to find how
calm and confident Jack seemed to face the approaching difficulty.

The land was now less than two miles away, and a faint hope had begun
to stir in Jack's heart that there might be enough delay to allow their
reaching a point of safety.

This, however, was dissipated when he suddenly discovered a white line
that looked as though a giant piece of chalk had been drawn along the
water.  The squall had pounced down upon Pamlico, and was rushing
toward them at the rate of at least a mile a minute.

"Hold hard!" shouted Jack through his megaphone.

Then he devoted himself to engineering the _Tramp's_ destiny.  Jimmy
knew what was expected of him in the emergency, and was nerved to
acquit himself with credit.  While his skipper showed himself to be so
cool and self-possessed Jimmy could not think of allowing the spasm of
fear that passed over him to hold sway.  What if that line of foamy
water was increasing in size as it rushed at them, until it assumed
dreadful proportions?  The _Tramp_ had passed safely through other
storms, and with Jack at the wheel all must be serene.

So Jimmy crouched there at the motor, ready to do whatever he was
told--crouched and gaped and shivered, yet with compressed teeth was
resolved to stand by his shipmate to the end.

Then the foam-crested water struck the flotilla with a crash.  First
the narrow _Wireless_ was seen to surge forward, rear up at a
frightfully perpendicular angle, until it almost seemed as though the
frail craft must be hurled completely over; and then swoop furiously
down into the basin that followed the comber.

George held her firmly in line, and somehow managed to keep her head
straight into the shrieking wind, though he frankly confessed that his
heart was in his mouth when she took that header.

But almost at the same instant the other boats tried the same frightful
plunge, and they, too, survived.  Jack gave a sigh of relief when he
saw that all of them had passed through the preliminary skirmish
unharmed, for it had been that which gave him the greatest concern.

And now the work began in earnest.  They had to fight for every foot
they won against the combined forces of wind and wave.  Had they been a
mile or so further out in the sound, so that the seas had a better
chance to become monstrous, nothing could have saved any of them.  And
Jack's chums once again had reason to be thankful for the far-seeing
qualities which their commodore developed when he changed their course,
and headed into the teeth of the coming gale.

At least several things favored them now.  George's boat seemed to be
behaving wonderfully well, for one thing.  Then again, after that first
swoop the gale had slackened somewhat in intensity, as is frequently
the case; though presently they could expect it to become more violent
than ever, when it caught its second wind, as Jerry expressed it.

Then, another hopeful thing was the fact that with every yard passed
over they were really getting the benefit of drawing closer to the
shore that was serving as a sort of shield from the wind.

The seas too gradually declined, since there was lacking the water
necessary to build them up.

Jack had one thing to worry over.  He knew that on such occasions
considerable water would be swept from the western side of the sound,
and this was apt to send the boats aground unless luck favored them.
Such a condition would keep them from going further in any great
distance, since the risk of striking became too pronounced.

"It's all right, Jimmy!" he called to his helper, knowing how anxious
the latter must necessarily be; "we've got to a point now where we're
safe.  We could even drop our mudhooks over right here, and ride it
out, if we wanted.  But it's better to go on a little further."

"Whoo! wasn't the same a scorcher, though?" Jimmy shouted, a sickly
grin coming over his good-natured, freckled face.

"It was some wind, I'm thinking," Jack admitted.  "I wasn't a bit
afraid about the _Tramp_ or the _Comfort_, but there's no telling what
that trick boat, _Wireless_, will do, when you don't expect it.  But
everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high."

"Sure it will, if ever ye get a sight on one with that bully little
gun; and it was poor hungry Nick I heard sayin', by the same token,
that he liked roast goose better than anything in the woide worrld
except oysters!"

Ten minutes later and Jack blew a blast upon his conch shell horn that
told the others they were to come to anchor.  Whereupon there was more
or less hustling, as the crews got busy.

Presently the three little motor boats rode buoyantly to their anchors,
bobbing up and down on the rolling waves like ducks bowing to each
other.  And as they had made out to select positions within the safety
zone of each other, it was possible for those aboard to hold
conversations, if they but chose to elevate their voices more or less,
in order to be heard above the shrieking wind and dashing waves.




CHAPTER XVI.

THE WIRELESS AS TRICKY AS EVER.

"We're in for a bad night, Jack!" called George, some time later on;
while poor Nick hung over the side of the wobbling speed boat, and
looked forlorn indeed.

"You are, in that contraption, George; but the rest of us don't give a
hang whether the old storm holds on or not.  We expect to get busy
cooking supper right soon now, as these bully little Juwel stoves will
burn, no matter how the boats jump up and down."

"Oh!  I wish Herb would only open his heart, and invite me to spend the
night on board the good reliable old _Comfort_!" groaned Nick.

"Sure!  Come right along; plenty of room for three here.  George can
tuck in, too, if he says the word," called Herb, cheerily.

"What! desert my boat in time of need?  What do you take me for?" cried
George, with a great show of righteous indignation; but as for Nick, he
became so excited, Jack feared he would jump in, and try to swim across.

By letting out more cable George was enabled to swing his boat close
enough to the big craft to allow of Josh seizing hold; and while he
thus held on clumsy Nick managed to crawl aboard, though he came within
an ace of taking a bath, and would have done so, only that Herb gave
him a helping hand.

Then George pulled back again to his former position.  If he felt that
he was making something of a martyr of himself, in thus determining to
stick by the madly plunging _Wireless_ all night, George was too proud
to indicate as much.  He might suffer all sorts of discomforts, and
never breathe a word of complaint.

But the storm proved short-lived after all.

Before they began to think of making up their beds the wind had
slackened in violence, and the clouds showed signs of breaking.
Indeed, as Jack pulled the blanket over him, he could see that the moon
was peeping out from behind the black curtains overhead.

"It'll be a fairly decent night after all, Jimmy," he muttered; but as
there was no answer, he took it for granted that his mate had passed
into slumberland by the short route; indeed, Jimmy had a faculty for
getting to sleep almost as soon as his head touched his pillow, which
in this case was an inflated rubber one.

And as the night wore on, the tossing of the boats became less and
less, until along about three in the morning Jack, chancing to awaken,
found that the little _Tramp_ lay perfectly quiet on the bosom of the
big sound.

He could see out, and looking toward the southeast beheld the glow of
that great beacon marking the position of the most stormy cape along
the whole Atlantic coast--Hatteras.

In the morning they were not long in getting under way, as soon as
breakfast had been hurried through with, and Nick had to get aboard his
own boat again, for his services were needed by his skipper.

Across the sound they sped at a clipping rate, heading direct for the
sandy spit where the lighthouse stands.  The roar of the ocean beating
against that barrier that has kept it out for ages came strongly to
their ears, as the breeze changed with the turn of the tide.

Landing among the sand dunes near the light, they paid a visit to the
keeper, and met with a cordial reception.  As a rule strangers are not
allowed to trespass upon Government property; but such a fine lot of
lads seemed to appeal to the heart of the keeper, who took them up to
the top of the tower, in order to let them have a view of what lay
before them to the south.

They listened to his stories of famous wrecks that had strewn the
neighboring beaches with dismembered portions of gallant ships and
steamers for fifty years; and looking out on the ocean to where the
treacherous reefs lay, waiting for fresh victims, Jack could easily
picture the tragic scenes that were being described, even though at
that time the sun chanced to be shining brightly, and the sea fairly
smooth.

Then again a start was made, for some difficult cruising lay ahead
before they could hope to reach Beaufort, where a little rest would be
taken, in order to carry out the promise they had made the young
aviator, Malcolm Spence.

They had heard ugly stories about Hatteras Inlet.  It was said to have
treacherous currents, and to abound in fierce man-eating sharks.  Hence
George became more or less concerned as they bore down upon it on this
same morning.

But like a good many other things in this world, the expectation of
trouble proved to be of far greater proportions than the actual
experience.  Why, they passed over without the slightest difficulty.
Even Nick shouted in great glee when the dreaded inlet was a thing of
the past, and he waved his fat hand disdainfully back toward it as they
sped away.

"It was dead easy, fellows!" he exclaimed.  "Why, I just shut my eyes,
and counted twenty.  Then, when I opened them again, we were across!"
and Nick hardly knew why his innocent confession of alarm was greeted
by such uproarious shouts.

"But the sharks were there, all roight, beca'se I saw the muttherin'
critters pokin' their ould fins out of the wather!" declared Jimmy.

"That's right, I saw the same," admitted Herb.

The next crossing would be at Ocracoke Inlet.  And then beyond that
they would come to Portsmouth, where mail from home might be expected,
since they had laid out a regular plan whereby those so dear to their
boyish hearts--the home folks--could communicate with the wanderers.
And at each place Jack, or one of the others, left word to have all
delayed mail forwarded on.

"Sure we do be getting closer all the while to that same ould Beaufort,
where ye expect to discover the gintleman by the name of Van Arsdale
Spence," Jimmy was remarking, as the flotilla moved majestically on in
one-two-three order, the _Wireless_ leading for the time being.

"We ought to get there some time tomorrow," Jack answered.  "Tonight
the plan is to camp on Cedar Island, and that is in Cove Sound, where
Beaufort is located."

"And then we'll know what the wonderful letter contains.  It's bothered
me more'n a little to guess, even though I knowed right well I had no
business to think of it at all.  But there's George pointing to
somethin' ahead."

"Yes, he sees the rough water of Ocracoke Inlet, and is falling back,"
laughed Jack, who was amused when the usually reckless skipper of the
speed boat developed a cautious vein.

George was learning something by slow degrees, and this might be set
down to be the truth of that old proverb to the effect that the race is
not always to the swift.  Perhaps, if he ever had another boat built to
order, he would not sacrifice safety and comfort to the mad desire to
make fast time.

But Ocracoke proved no harder to negotiate than had Hatteras.  Perhaps
it might be that experience was teaching the young motor boat cruisers
just how to manage their craft when passing these dangerous openings,
where the sweep of the sea had a full chance to strike them.

Then came Portsmouth, where Jimmy was dispatched for the mail, as well
as some necessary food supplies.  They all had such good appetites,
save perhaps Josh, for whose lack Nick more than made up, that it was
simply amazing how things just seemed to melt away.  But then six boys
can always be depended upon to devour their own weight in "grub" during
a short cruise upon the water.  The salty air seemed to make them
hungry all the time, so that it became necessary to piece between
regular meals.

Jack timed their departure from Portsmouth so as to break into Cove
Sound, and reach Cedar Island, before night came on.  Somehow he had
set his mind in making a camp here.  Possibly he had read of some
former lone boatman doing the same, for he had devoured several books
containing descriptions of this inland passage.

As nothing happened to disturb his plans, they drew up for the night at
Cedar Island, an hour and more before the sun would set.

This gave them plenty of chances to do a number of things that happened
to appeal to them individually.  George went ashore to stretch his
cramped legs, whither Nick had of course preceded him, leaving the
_Wireless_ at anchor just beyond the other two boats.

And George took his gun with him, thinking there might be a chance to
pick up some shore birds, in the way of snipe or curlew.

Jack was bent on trying to get a mess of fish for supper, and noting
what seemed to be a promising place close by, he set to work.  They saw
him pull in several finny captives; and Nick would rub his stomach in
mute delight every time the patient angler made a strike, as he viewed
the possibilities of a prospective feast.

Josh was busy making a fireplace out of some stones he picked up.  It
always did him great good to have things fixed to suit his ideas of
what a cooking fire ought to be when in camp.  It was fast becoming a
hobby with Josh; and yet, strange to say, with all his ability in the
line of cookery, he was often unable to partake of his own savory
messes on account of his disposition toward indigestion.

Herb seemed to be whittling something out of a piece of nice wood he
had found; while Jimmy, always good-natured, and willing to be the
"handy boy" of the bunch, gathered wood for the cook.

They heard George shoot a number of times, and new hope began to take
hold of Nick, who, moving closer to Josh, commenced quizzing him on how
shore birds ought to be cooked, in order to bring out their particular
flavor.  Nick was never happier than when engaged in his favorite
conversation concerning appetizing things to eat.  Indeed, there was
only one thing he liked better; and this was to indulge in the actual
demonstration itself, and devour the finished product of the cook's
skill.

Suddenly Jimmy gave a yell.  The others started up, thinking that
perhaps Jack had made an unusually fine haul, or been pulled in himself
by a large fish.  George was just breaking through the scrub near by,
and he echoed the shout of Jimmy.

"Look at the _Wireless_, would you, fellows?  Say! she's bewitched,
that's what!" was what he whooped, as he started to run toward them.

And as they turned their eyes in the direction of the erratic speed
boat, what was their amazement to see the little craft moving away at a
fast pace, although the engine was quite dead and cold, and not the
first sign of a human being could be detected aboard.

It was a mystery that sent a cold chill through every heart!




CHAPTER XVII.

GOOD-BYE TO AN ANCHOR.

"Who's playing this trick on me?" demanded George, as he reached the
others.

"Look around and you'll see we're all here, with Jack running like mad
this way," observed Herb, indignantly.

"But what in the Sam Hill ails the bally old boat, then?" exclaimed
George, as he turned his eyes again on the fast receding _Wireless_,
that was heading out from the shore.

"It's some trick of a native cracker; he's swimming under water, and
pulling the boat after him.  We've got to get in the other boats and
give chase," declared shrewd Josh.

"It's mighty queer, that's all!" gasped Nick; while Jimmy stood as if
turned into stone, his eyes round with fear and superstition, for Jimmy
had inherited the regular Irish belief in banshees and ghosts.

George made a dash for the nearest boat, which happened to be the
_Tramp_.

"Wait for me!" shouted the owner of that craft, who was putting on a
spurt in order to reach them quickly, having forgotten all about his
finny prizes in this new and overwhelming discovery.

He came up on the run, but already Herb was in the _Comfort_, about to
start the engine.

"No need, Herb," gasped Jack, "George and myself can overtake it with
the _Tramp_.  The rest of you stay here."

"But glory be, what ails the ould thing?" demanded Jimmy, determined
not to let the commodore get away without some explanation of the
puzzle.

"Why, don't you understand?" said Jack, as he busied himself with the
motor.  "A big fish, perhaps a wandering shark, has fouled the anchor
rope, and getting badly rattled, has put off at full speed, dragging
the boat after him.  He's headed for the nearest inlet at this very
minute; but we'll beat him at that little game, won't we, George?"

Then the rattle of the motor sounded, and immediately the _Tramp_ set
off in the wake of the runaway motor boat.

A more surprised lot of boys it would have been difficult to find than
those thus left upon the little sandy beach on Cedar Island.  They
stared after the two boats, and then turned to look at each other.

"Well, did you ever?" gasped Nick.

"Beats Bannigher, so it does," declared Jimmy, though it could be seen
that a humorous expression had taken the place of that look of fear on
his freckled face.

"A shark got mussed up in the anchor rope, and then set out to steal
the whole outfit!" remarked Herb.  "Well, of all the funny things,
don't that take the cake, though?"

"That silly old boat of George's seems to me is always cutting up some
sort of capers.  She's the toughest proposition ever," Josh declared.

"That's what I'm saying all the blessed time," grunted Nick,
unconsciously beginning to feel of his various joints, as though the
mere mention of the _Wireless_ made him remember his aches.

"But can they overtake the measly thing?" Josh asked, watching
nervously to see if he could determine how the race was progressing.

"Just because the _Wireless_ is the faster boat, don't think Jack isn't
going to run her down, hand over fist," declared Herb.  "Already he's
gaining on the other.  You see, the shark isn't used to towing a boat
like that at race-horse speed.  And then the anchor bothers him some, I
bet you."

"Will George shoot the monster--for I take it a shark must be of pretty
good size to run away with a motor boat like that?" Josh inquired.

"Watch and see what happens.  George has his gun in his hands, and
seems to be looking over, as if he'd just like to shoot; but pshaw! the
shark will stick to the bottom right along, and he can't be touched."

It was evident to them all that unless some other line of action was
brought into play the pursuers would have a pretty hard time of it
outwitting the thief that refused to show himself near the surface.

But they knew Jack would be equal to any occasion, and it was with more
or less curiosity rather than alarm that those ashore stood there,
watching, and waiting to see the close of the exciting little drama.

"There, George has put down his gun; and I reckon Jack told him it was
no good trying to cop the old pirate that way.  Now what's he doing,
fellows?" Nick remarked.

"I saw the sunlight shine on something he's got in his hand," declared
Herb.

"That's roight," Jimmy observed, with conviction.  "And it's a knife he
is howldin', so it is."

"Oh! my goodness gracious!  I hope that foolish and rash George isn't
thinking of going overboard, and engaging the man-eater in a fight,
just like I've read those pearl divers do!" Nick gasped.

"Rats! what d'ye think George is made of to play such a foolish game?"
Jimmy cried.  "It's to cut the anchor rope the laddy buck means to
thry!"

"That's right, Jimmy; and you can be sure it was Jack put him wise to
that," Herb broke in with.

"But," Nick went on, still half dazed, "he'll never see his blessed old
anchor any more, will he?  The blooming old shark will run off with it."

"Let him," laughed Josh, in derision.  "Better to lose a measly anchor
than have the boat go to smash.  Looky, fellows, he's going to do it
right now!"

Every one of them stared as hard as he could.  The two boats had not
gone so far off but what a pair of good eyes could observe what was
taking place, even though night was coming on apace, with some clouds
gathering overhead.

Jack had run the _Tramp_ alongside the erratic runaway, and George was
seen to clamber aboard his own boat.  Of course, after that it would be
a simple job to press the keen edge of Jack's knife upon the strained
anchor rope.

"He did it!" shouted Jimmy, as the _Wireless_ was noticed to fall
suddenly behind the other craft, as though relieved from the unseen
force that had been towing her away at such a headlong pace.

And presently the speed boat was seen to move of her own accord, George
having turned his engine, and thrown on power.

They came back side by side, the skippers laughing heartily at the
harmless end of what had at one time threatened to prove a calamity.

"No harm done except that I must buy a new cable and anchor at
Beaufort," said George, as he once more drew up by the side of the
_Comfort_.

"I've got a spare rope I can lend you till then," spoke up Herb, who
liked to fish up all manner of contraptions from the depths of the
roomy craft, and see the surprise written on the faces of his chums.

So, after all, the excitement died out, though they would never forget
their amazement at seeing the boat rushing off without any visible
reason for its flight.

Jack went back and secured the finny prizes that he had taken, upon
which Josh set Jimmy to work, as the Irish boy was a master hand at
cleaning fish.  George, it turned out, had knocked down a whole covey
of small birds, and several of them got busy plucking the feathers from
these.

Nick was willing to do what he could, but truth to tell, he proved so
clumsy at the task that it took him the whole time to get just one
little bird ready, while Jack and Herb did six apiece.

Of course, they feasted that night, and considerable of the talk around
the camp-fire concerned the late adventure.

"It might have been much more serious," George declared.

"That's a fact," added Josh, wagging his long head, solemnly, as was
his custom.  "Suppose now that same thing had happened in the middle of
the night?  Whew! we never would have known what had become of the
blessed old _Wireless_.  Jimmy here would have said the ghosts had
carried her off."

"Even if that shark had had a better start he might have given us a
long chase before we caught him.  And you fellows saw how quick it got
dark tonight, with the clouds hanging over us," George continued.

"What would you have done in that case, Jack?" asked Nick.

"Do you mean if we found ourselves far out on the dark sound?" laughed
the one addressed.  "Why, I reckon we could have heard you shout; and
if that failed there was the fire.  Oh, I don't doubt we'd have found
some way to get back here, all in good time!"

By ten o'clock the sky had cleared again, so that they concluded to
keep to the original plan, which included a night ashore.  George was
seen to pay particular attention about fastening his boat to the others
with an extra cable.

"He's meaning to make things secure," chuckled Josh.

"Yes, one experience is quite enough for George, sometimes," commented
Herb.  "If another shark gets the fever, and tries to run away with an
anchor, he's just got to take the entire bunch."

"Yes, and the whole island in the bargain, because they've fastened the
boats to that tree, you notice," Josh observed.

Their hopes of a good, quiet night suffered no blight, for nothing
happened to disturb their sleep, and morning found them eager to go on.

They fully expected reaching Beaufort before long now, when the
mysterious little packet could be delivered to the party to whom it was
addressed, if they were fortunate enough to find him.  Young Spence did
not seem to be sure that this Van Arsdale Spence still lived near
Beaufort, as he evidently once had done; but still Jack had hopes of
succeeding, since they seemed to carry such luck along with them.

It was eight o'clock when they got started.  As usual, George detained
them, finding occasion to do some more little necessary tinkering with
that miserable engine of his, that was forever getting out of order.

Cove Sound lay shimmering in the sunlight as the three little boats
left the friendly beach of Cedar Island, and once more cut a passage
through the water, with their prows turned southward.

It was a beautiful morning.

"I only hope," Jack had said at starting, "that it is a good omen, and
that we will be able to get on the track of the party without too much
delay."

And so they started on the last leg that was to take them to Beaufort.




CHAPTER XVIII.

A SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.

They made such fair speed that, as noon came along, they realized they
could reach the little city on the sound.  Once or twice Jack had been
tempted to turn in to the shore, especially when he saw what looked to
be a very pretty plantation, with the house having a red roof, and
nestling in among many trees, for the idea had occurred to him that he
might just happen on some valuable information concerning the party
whom they sought.

But it ended in his determining that on the whole he had better curb
his impatience until reaching Beaufort.  At the postoffice he might get
in touch with some one who knew.

When they pulled in they had eaten a little bite of cold stuff, as it
was not their intention to stop to cook anything.

Jack himself set off for the postoffice, to secure what mail awaited
them, and at the same time make certain inquiries.

"Can you tell me anything about a certain party named Van Arsdale
Spence?" he asked the postmaster, after receiving several letters.

The other looked at him closely.

"He used to live near here," he said, finally.

"Yes, we understood that, and I want to find him very much," Jack went
on.

"You passed his old home as you came here, and perhaps you noticed the
house in among the trees, the one with the red-tiled roof?"

"Why, of course we did!" Jack exclaimed, "and I was tempted to put in
there, to make inquiries, but changed my mind.  Then we must turn back,
and go there?"

The postmaster shook his head.

"Wouldn't do any good, young man.  Mr. Spence no longer lives there,"
he said.

"Do you happen to know where he could be found, sir?  I have a very
important message to deliver to him, which I promised to hand over
while we were passing along this section of the coast."

To the surprise of Jack the official looked grave.

"The rules of the department are very strict, sir, and prevent me from
telling you where Mr. Spence gets his mail now."  Then seeing Jack's
look of bitter disappointment, and partly relenting, he continued: "But
there's a party over yonder who knows just as well as I do, and is
under no restrictions either.  A drink, or a quarter, would do the
business with Pete Smalling."

"Thank you; I'll make the try anyway," and Jack hurried across to where
he saw a rather disreputable citizen standing leaning against a fence,
chewing a straw.

"Excuse me, are you Pete Smalling?" he asked, as he came up.

The cracker looked him over, and then grinned.  Evidently he recognized
that the other was a stranger in the community.  Perhaps, too, he
scented two bits, and later on a happy time in his favorite tavern
taproom.

"Them's my name, Mistah; what kin I do foh yuh?" he remarked, with the
true Southern accent.

"I want to see a certain party named Van Arsdale Spence, and the
postmaster told me you would know and could direct me."

Jack managed in some way to slip a piece of silver into the hand of the
other.  It had the result of making him talkative.

"He was right, stranger, I does happen tuh know thet same, an' kin take
yuh tuh whah Mistah Spence is aholin' out right now.  Yuh see, it's tuh
the south o' hyah, quite a peart ways, p'raps half hour er more."

"Could you tell us exactly where?" demanded the boy.

"Wall, now, I reckon I knows, but she's thet hard tuh tell.  Gut a
boat, Mistah, aint yuh?" Pete went on.

"Yes, we've got three power boats with us.  Could you pilot us to where
Mr. Spence is to be found?" Jack went on, beginning to understand how
profitable it was to know a thing, and yet be quite unable to describe
its location.

"Cud I?  Wall, nothin' is surer than thet same, suh; allers pervided
yuh made it wuth my time.  I'm ginerally a busy man, yuh see, suh."

Jack thought he must be, as long as he had a dime in his pocket with
which to pay for the stuff he guzzled; but then that was no affair of
his right then; what he wanted was to find Spence.

"Would a dollar pay you for showing us?" Jack asked, with an air of
business that no doubt impressed the loafer.

"Jest consider me engaged, Mistah.  Take me tuh yer boat; on'y its gut
tuh be understood that I'm tuh be fetched back heah again.  If Spence
cain't bring me, yuh promise tuh do hit, do yuh?"

"Yes, I guess I'm safe in making that promise.  Then come along with me
down to the water front.  The sooner we start the better."

Jack went on, believing in the old maxim that causes one to strike
while the iron is hot.

"But I hain't had any dinner," said the fellow, with a cunning leer.

"Oh! we'll see that you get plenty to eat on the way.  No use waiting
here.  Our time is limited, and we want to be going.  Will you come
along?" Jack said.

"Thet's all right, Mistah; yuh kin count on me, suh.  A whole dollah
yuh sed, didn't yuh, suh; and make out tuh git me back in Beaufort
agin?"

"Yes, a dollar and a return ticket.  Come along."

On the way Jack made several purchases that caused the hungry Pete to
lick his chops, and hope he would be able to soon meet up with that
promised lunch, for he was getting more and more hungry now with every
passing minute.  That twenty-five cents in his pocket felt like it
weighed a ton, too, and he wondered if the young fellow, who he saw was
a Northerner or a Yankee, as all such are called below Mason and
Dixon's line, would wait for him while he exchanged it in a saloon.

But Jack hurried along, so that they arrived at the place where the
three boats had been tied up before Pete could quite make up his mind
what he ought to do.

Jack determined that he had not returned any too soon.  A little crowd
of rowdies had gathered near, and were beginning to make remarks about
the boats and those aboard.  Beaufort was no different from any other
place, north or south; there are always some rough characters to be
found, and when the town lies on the water it is generally the case
that they frequent the landings.

George was sitting on deck, apparently shining up his gun.  Jack knew,
however, that this was all pretense, and that his chum wanted to let it
be known that those in the motor boat flotilla were well armed, and,
moreover, knew how to take care of themselves.

Pete was taken aboard the _Tramp_, because Jack wanted to talk with him
while on the way.  Then the start was made.  Just as Jack had
anticipated, some of the fellows on the shore called insultingly after
them.

"Don't pay any attention to them," he cautioned his mates.

It was hard to stand being abused without having done the least thing
to deserve such treatment, but all the boys knew the wisdom of
controlling their tempers under provocation.

Then, finding that no attention was paid to their remarks, the fellows
started to hurling stones after the boats.  Fortunately, when they
thought of this means for making a display of their rowdyism, the small
craft had gained such headway that they could not reach them with the
missiles.  Several splashed water aboard and came near striking home,
but Jack breathed easy when he realized that they had passed beyond
range of the missiles.

"That's a fine bunch of scoundrels," he said, partly to Jimmy.

"They don't mean any harm, Mistah; that's on'y th' way they hes o'
havin' fun," Pete remarked, at which Jimmy laughed scornfully.

"Fun, is it?" he said, with a gleam of anger in his blue eyes; "sure
it's little the big trotters 'd care if one of thim stones would be
after hittin' us on the head and knocking the daylight out of us.  Fun,
do ye say?  It'd give me great pleasure, so it would, to have a chanct
to teach some of thim manners.  An' I could do it, too, d'ye mind, for
all I'm but a broth of a bhoy."

Jack began to ask a few questions of the fellow, whom Jimmy had soon
supplied with an abundance of food.

"It's on'y a few miles tuh whar Mistah Spence holds out now, suh, an'
we kin git thar right peart in this fine little boat," the other was
saying, when Jimmy broke into the conversation by exclaiming:

"Looky yonder, Jack, darlint; d'ye twig the two gossoons wagging a
handkerchief at us?  Holy smoke!  I belave they've got a motor boat
half under water, and do be havin' an accident of some sort.  How now,
Commodore, do we be after puttin' in to the rescue?"

"You're right, Jimmy," remarked Jack, "they have got a boat of some
kind partly filled.  Perhaps they went too near the shore and got
snagged on a stump or a rock.  But we just can't pass them by and
pretend we don't see them.  Listen, one is yelling."

"Help! we're wrecked!  Come ashore and take us off!" came the call.

"Hang the luck!" remarked George, "what else is going to detain us?
Seems to me we've just done nothing but hold out a helping hand ever
since we started on this blooming trip."

"But you know the rules of the road, and the law of the cruiser--'do as
you'd be done by,'" said Jack, who had changed his course and was
heading straight for the shore, where the two men stood up to their
knees in water beside their partly submerged motor boat.

"We hit something, and punched a hole in the boat," one of them
explained, as Jack and his chums came up.

"And if you'd only give us a lift a few miles we'd be very grateful,
and would gladly pay for what it was worth," the other, who looked like
a lawyer, hastened to say.

"That's all right, gentlemen," Jack remarked, hospitably.  "Climb
aboard the big boat.  We're only going a short distance, however, to a
little place where Van Arsdale Spence is now living."

The two pilgrims who had been wrecked looked at each other in surprise.

"Why," said the shorter one, who seemed to be a man of some authority,
perhaps a marshal, or even a sheriff of the county, "that's queer, but
we're bound for that same place ourselves, strangers!"




CHAPTER XIX.

THE MESSAGE OF HOPE.

"Do you mean that you were on your way to see Mr. Spence at the time
your boat struck a snag?" asked Jack, surprised and perplexed at the
same time.

"That's just what we were, my boy," replied the other, looking
curiously at Jack, as though naturally wondering what sort of mission
could be taking this flotilla of Northern motor boats to visit the
party in question.

Jack would have liked to ask questions, but realized that such a course
would be bordering on the impudent.  There might be numerous people
interested in Van Arsdale Spence besides the young aviator whom they
had agreed to assist by carrying the packet to the coast town.

"In that case you have only to remain aboard here, and we will land
you.  I have a pilot with me, to lead us right," he remarked.

"So I see, old Pete Smalling, eh?  Hello!  Pete, struck a job at last,
after looking for ten years?" remarked the man, winking at the hungry
passenger, who was disposing of his food at a prodigious rate of speed.

"I reckon as I hev, Mistah Marshal," answered the other, with
considerable of respect in his voice and manner.

So Jack knew his surmise was correct, and that the heavy-set individual
was an officer of the law, after all.  But what he could be going to
see Spence for, was of course beyond his power to guess.  The planter
who had owned that fine place now seemed to be living in what might be
called seclusion.  Had he done anything for which he could be taken to
task by the law?  Jack hoped not, for the sake of that fine young
aviator, Malcolm Spence, who must surely be some relative, and was
deeply interested in his welfare.

The boats moved on in company, so that it was possible to converse back
and forth if any of them so desired.

"I suppose this Mr. Spence must have lived around here quite some
time?" Jack remarked a little later, as the man smiled encouragingly
toward him.

"All his life, suh, all his life.  He was born on that spot north of
Beaufort; yes, and his father before him, I reckon.  It never has gone
out of the hands of the Spences up to now," came the ready reply.

"Oh! by the way, did this gentleman ever have any family?" asked Jack.

"I should reckon he did that, suh--three fine gals, an' just one son.
The gals they stick by him through it all; but the boy, he left the old
man goin' on two yeahs now.  It's nigh about broke his heart, I heah."

"I don't suppose that this son's name could have been Malcolm?"
suggested Jack, pretty sure of his ground now.

"That's just what it was, suh, Malcolm Gregory Spence.  They was a time
when we all 'spected he was going to make something out of himself,
because you see the boy was mighty clever; but he quarreled with his
old man and went off.  P'raps he's dead by now.  The old man thinks so,
leastways; though one of the gals don't seem to believe that way."

Jack could see it all.  In some way, Malcolm, estranged from his
family, had managed to learn about their recent financial troubles, and
that they had left the old home, to go, he knew not where.

And Jack, as he pressed his hand over the pocket where he had again
secreted that mysterious missive, only hoped that it would bring joy
and happiness into the home of the Spences.  How pleasant it would seem
to be the bearer of good news.

He said nothing more, though having discovered this much he could
easily guess that the errand of the marshal must have some connection
with the breaking of the last tie that would hold the Spence family to
the old home up the Sound.  Perhaps the marshal and the lawyer were on
their way to inform the owner that foreclosure proceedings had been
instituted, and to get his signature to documents that were necessary
to the proper carrying out of the sad business.

Pete, having stowed away an incredible amount of stuff, so that he
could hardly draw a full breath, began to manifest more or less
interest in their progress.  He suggested little changes in the course
they were taking, and presently broke out with:

"Thar, if so be yuh jest look yondah, suh, p'raps ye kin see a boat
tied up tuh a stake.  Thet's whar old Van Arsdale lives now, a fishin'
shack on a patch o' ground he happens tuh own.  But I done heard as how
them slick gals o' his'n gone an' made even sech a tough place look
kinder homelike.  An' see, thar's the ole man right now, alookin'
toward us, wonderin' who we be."

Jack could easily see all that the other described.  It was a lonely
place for a man to bring his three sweet daughters; but doubtless
necessity compelled such a thing.

The man with the white mustache and goatee, who looked like a real
Kentucky colonel, Jack thought, walked down to the rude little dock to
meet them.  Of course, he recognized the marshal, who must have been an
old acquaintance of his; and had little difficulty in guessing the
errand that was probably bringing him there.

Then three young girls came running down to gather about the old man,
as if suspecting the coming of new trouble they wished to be near to
help him bear his cross.

Jack found himself quivering with eagerness.  And again did he hope
that the message from the absent son and brother might soften the blow
that seemed about to fall upon this devoted little family.

They reached the landing and hastened to get ashore; all but Pete, who
had developed a second-stage appetite, and started in eating again,
regardless of all other matters.

The old planter stood there like a lion at bay, with his three
daughters clinging to him.  It was a pretty picture, that would often
come up in the memory of the boys when far away from the scene itself.

He seemed to be paying particular attention to the marshal, who stepped
forward and gravely shook hands with him.

"I had your letter, Mr. Burrows, and looked to see you some time
today," was the way Mr. Spence opened the conversation.

"And as I wrote you, Spence," the marshal replied, "I'm only here in my
official capacity to carry out the execution of the law's demands.  As
your friend, suh, I deeply sympathize with you in your troubles, but
being sworn to do my duty, however painful it may be, there was no
choice left to me."

"I understand all that, Burrows.  This is only a mere matter of
routine, anyway.  The blow fell months ago, when I had to leave my old
home.  I thought I might save it in some way by keeping myself
secreted, in the hope that several friends in another part of the
country would come to my assistance.  But that hope no longer exists,
sir, and I am now ready to do whatever is required."

"There is no hurry, Spence," the marshal went on, curiosity concerning
the mission of the motor boat boys getting the better of him, "and as
these gentlemen happened to rescue us from a very serious position,
since our boat was wrecked, and they were even then on the way to visit
you, perhaps you would like to talk with them, suh."

It seemed as though Mr. Spence noticed the presence of the boys for the
first time then.  He looked at them with a puzzled brow, as though
unable to guess what such a party of pleasure seekers could want with a
broken-hearted Southern planter.

So Jack at once stepped forward, while his mates gathered in a clump,
eagerly observing every little thing that transpired.

"While we were coming down the Delaware River, sir, starting on our
long coast cruise, we happened to come in contact with a young aviator,
who had alighted on the water close by us in a new hydro-aeroplane.
When he mentioned his name we recognized it as belonging to a daring
aviator who had suddenly jumped into national fame as one of the most
skillful of his class.  He heard of our plans, and that in all
probability we would pass close to Beaufort.  And he asked us to bear a
packet to a Mr. Van Arsdale Spence, whose present place of residence he
did not seem to know, but believed we would be able to learn it after
we arrived here.  So I am pleased, sir, to hand you the sealed message
that was given to us by your son, now famous in the world of aviation,
Mr. Malcolm Spence!"

The old planter started, and turned pale as his trembling hand was
outstretched to take the packet.  Indeed, he was utterly unable to open
it, so that one of his daughters proceeded to do this for him.

Jack held his breath.  Oh! how he did hope that it would be good news,
for if ever any one had need of cheering intelligence this old,
broken-down man did.

He saw him adjust his glasses and commence to read.  Already had the
three girls gleaned all that was contained in that missive, and from
their happy faces Jack understood that it was all right.

If he had any doubt he had only to look at the face of the planter.
First it was eager, then yearning, and finally he turned to the marshal
with possibly the first laugh that had burst from his lips these many
moons.

"Aha! you're having your journey for your pains, Burrows!" he cried.
"The old place isn't going to leave the Spence family after all.  Look!
this is from my boy, and directs me to go to the bank in Beaufort, to
which he has transmitted funds to make the first payment that will save
our home!  More will follow as soon as he hears from us.  Money is
flowing in on him, money and honors as thick as they can come.  And his
heart has gone out to the father and sisters he left years ago.  It's
all right, Burrows, thanks to these kind boys who have borne his
message to me."

He went around, shaking the hand of every one with vehemence.  And no
one looked happier than the marshal, upon learning that stern duty
after all would not compel him to take from his old friend the home of
his ancestors.

"But it was a close shave, let me say," was his remark later on to
Jack, as they all started to gather under the humble roof of the
fisherman's shack which the devotion of those three brave daughters had
almost beautified, so that the old man might not be too much broken
down; "another day would have been too late."

"Then I'm glad that storms and breakdowns did not keep us from getting
here on time," said the commodore of the Motor Boat Club.




CHAPTER XX.

MEETING TROUBLE HALF WAY.

Jack had been studying his coast survey charts seriously of late.

He knew that there were a few hardships before them ere they could
anchor in front of Florida's metropolis on the St. John's River, fair
Jacksonville.

And as it was only right that every member of the club should share in
the discussion as to their course, he gave them to understand that
there would be held a caucus on the very next night.

At the lower end of Bogue Sound amid the sedge grass they hoped to make
their next camp, when this question would be debated from every side,
and the plan of campaign adopted as majority decided.

When they were getting ready to leave the Spence family, Jack felt some
one pulling at his sleeve, and looking around discovered that it was
old Pete.

"How 'bout that ere dollar, boss?" asked the cracker.

"That's a fact, I came near forgetting you, Pete," laughed Jack.  "And
to prove that it wasn't intentional, here's double pay for you.  I
guess we've had enough pleasure out of this to count for two dollars."

"That's mighty nice of you-all," declared the fellow, actually showing
something like gratitude in his manner, as he held out a hand for Jack
to shake.  "An' mout I be so bold as tuh 'mind yuh thet I don't hanker
'bout stayin' down heah any longer than I has tuh.  Yuh promised tuh
see I gut back tuh Beaufort, suh," he said.

"He's got you there, Jack, for that's just what you did," laughed Herb.

"I reckon that money'll burn a hole in Pete's pocket, unless he manages
to get to town right smart," declared the marshal; "but Mr. Spence heah
has got an old sail boat in which the hull lot of us is goin' to head
foh Beaufort soon.  Pete is welcome to go along, if he cares."

"That pleases us a whole lot," remarked George, "because, you see, we
had a nasty little experience with some toughs along the water front,
and they bombarded us with a shower of stones as we pulled out, though
fortunately none of them struck either the boats or ourselves."

"Yes, and as we've got a long trip ahead of us before we reach the
place we marked for the end of the motor boat cruise, the sooner we
make a start the better.  So we'll say good-bye to you all; and Mr.
Spence, best wishes for your future happiness.  Perhaps some day we may
run across that famous son of yours again, because he took our home
address and said he meant to get in touch with us.  We'd all like to
meet him again, eh, boys?" and Jack turned to his chums as he asked
this.

"That's what!" declared Nick, who had been especially interested in the
wonderful hydro-aeroplane, and even hinted that some day he also hoped
to fly through the upper currents in one, much to the amusement of his
comrades, who roared every time any one tried to picture the fat boy
trying such stunts.

So they shook hands all around, not forgetting the three charming
girls, who seemed very friendly disposed toward the Yankee boys, after
discovering what fine news the voyagers had brought their father.

"All aboard!" cried the commodore.

As the three motor boats put out upon the sun-kissed water the girls
waved dainty handkerchiefs as long as they could see the fleet.  Then a
change of course shut out the fishing shack, where love had made a home
for the planter in his hour of adversity.

"After all, that was a most satisfying adventure, fellows," Jack
remarked, for the other boats were close by at the time.

"I should say, yes," admitted Josh.

"Only thing I didn't like," declared Nick, who was looking quite
unhappy, they began to notice, as though a spell of sea sickness had
gripped him, "was that we had to break away just when we were getting
to know 'em."

At that frank admission the rest broke into roars of laughter.

"So that's the way the tide sets, is it?" remarked Jack.

"Why, sure," cried Josh, "didn't you see how smitten Nick was with that
little brunette with the snapping big black eyes?  She was pretty, all
right, and ten to one he's got her address, because I saw him writing
something down in his note book, sure as you live."

But Nick faced them, rosy red but defiant.

"Don't care if I did," he said, with a decided shake of his head.
"It's just rank jealousy on Josh's part that makes him say that;
because Betty wouldn't notice him even a little bit.  Now, let's talk
of something else.  I don't care to bring the lady's name into the
discussion."

"Good for you, Nick!" said Herb.

"And he's quite right, too, boys," asserted Jack, positively, and
immediately switched the talk to another subject.

They made decent progress during the hours that they kept on.  In
Beaufort they had managed to renew their supply of gasolene, so that
they now had sufficient of the fuel to see them through for some time.
Once they reached Charleston it would be necessary to lay in another
lot.

But there was a hard proposition before them ere they could hope to
gain the beautiful city by the sea.  Boats drawing the water theirs did
could not hope to get through some of the small creeks uniting the
broad stretches of water lying parallel with the coast.  Hence it would
be necessary for them to make another outside passage, possibly several.

But Jack had it all planned, and wished to get the opinions of his
chums before the course was definitely decided on.

Camp was made in the sedge grass on Bogue Sound, just as they had
figured on, and after supper had been disposed of, a council of war
called.  At this the charts were closely scanned, especially the pencil
marks which Jack had made.  He also explained minutely just what he
conceived to be the best method of procedure.

"Now, if we were making this cruise in canoes instead of heavy power
boats," he remarked, laying his pencil on a particular section of the
chart, "our best plan would be to have the craft carried by ox wagon
across a little stretch of low rice country here, to the Waccamaw
River, which has a very swift current; and down that we could run some
seventy miles, bringing us far on our way.  But as we'd never be able
to find a way to take our boats across country, we must go outside
again."

There being no other way, the boys presently unanimously agreed to face
the music.  Besides, their previous success at riding the heaving
billows of the ocean began to give them confidence.

"If we go around Florida, and bring up in the Gulf, we're likely to do
a lot of this outside business," remarked George, as bravely as though
he never knew what fear meant.

"Yes," put in Nick, also valiant when settled on solid ground, "and I
suppose we've just got to get used to the thing.  Who's afraid, anyhow?
Settle it just as you think best, Jack.  We rely on your judgment every
time.  That's why we elected you to be commodore of the fleet."

"Hear! hear!" murmured Josh, pretending to applaud the noble sentiment
feebly with his finger-tips.

Once the plan of campaign was settled, they all felt better.  For some
time they had known that this problem must come up for solution sooner
or later, and truth to tell, it had been rather a load on their minds.
There is a positive relief in knowing the worst.  Means for meeting the
difficulty can then be discussed; and as a rule most obstacles lose
much of their terror when held up to the light.

The little insect pests came around in such numbers that it was quickly
decided a night ashore would not be comfortable.  Nick was the only one
who rebelled.

"Why, I'd put up with ten million skeeters before I'd voluntarily
choose to try and compose myself to sleep in that narrow rocking
coffin," he declared.

"Now, I like that," complained George, always up in arms when his
beloved craft was spoken of in an uncomplimentary manner.  "Look a gift
horse in the mouth, if you like; but the sleeping accommodations aboard
are good enough for _me_.  And to show you that I don't bear any
malice, Nick, I'm going to help you fix up a berth on shore here."

Nick might have backed out, only he dared not after that, and sly
George, who really delighted in the prospect of having plenty of room
to turn over in, knew it, which was the main reason for his offer of
assistance.

So when the time came for retiring Nick was left ashore with a little
tent constructed of cheese cloth, which was believed to be so closely
woven that even the smallest insect pest could not pass through.

Nick had tried his best to coax Josh to share his accommodations; but
the lanky one was content with his comfortable quarters aboard.  Even
Jimmy shook his head when the fat boy showed him how splendid it would
be to lie there, and get all the night air that was stirring.

"Excuse me, Nick," Jimmy had said, "sure, I'd like to accommodate ye,
but it seems to me there's a quare smell in the air that makes me think
of bears.  P'raps they do come down here out of the canebrake beyant.
And I'd feel safer aboard the boat."

"Now, you think you're going to scare me, don't you?" demanded the
stout boy, pugnaciously, his stubborn nature having been aroused, "but
all the same you ain't.  I c'n see through a knothole in a fence.  The
rest of you are afraid, that's what!  All right, it's good there's one
brave feller in the bunch.  But, George, you've just got to loan me
your gun again."

"More razorback pork for dinner tomorrow, fellows," laughed George.

"Oh! well, if you try to throw every obstacle in my way, why of
course----" began Nick, eagerly seizing upon the slightest excuse to
hedge; when George, fearful that he might have to share the cramped
quarters aboard the _Wireless_ after all with his team mate, quickly
exclaimed:

"You can have the gun, and welcome, Nick; only be careful how you
shoot.  One of those charges at close range would go through the flimsy
planking of my boat like a bullet.  Here, take the gun.  And if there's
anything else I can do to make you comfortable, let me know.  I'm the
most obliging fellow you ever met."

Nick looked at him out of the corner of his eye, as though he strongly
suspected the genuine character of this generosity.  Still, he felt
that he could not in decency draw back now, so he took the shotgun and
tucked it away beside his blanket.

Considerably to the satisfaction of the entire club, the night passed
without any wild alarm.  If there were bears in the neighborhood, as
Jimmy had wickedly suggested, they at least had the decency to keep
aloof from the camp.  Perhaps they showed their wisdom in so doing when
Nick was on guard.  That, at least, was what he boasted, when Jack and
the rest came ashore and aroused him from a sound sleep.

The fact of the matter was that Nick had never once awakened during the
entire night.  A dozen bears might have prowled around the camp,
sniffing at anything left lying around loose, and in all probability he
would never have been any the wiser, provided they did not tumble his
tent down about his ears.

Once more they started on their way.  Jack continually consulted his
charts.  When connecting creeks had to be negotiated, in order to reach
some channel beyond, it was absolutely necessary that the tide be taken
at its flood, otherwise they were very apt to find themselves stuck in
the mud.

Three full days did they keep this up, and then, having managed to
surmount every difficulty, they reached the point where that outside
run became a necessity, ere they could enter the Peedee River at Winyah
Bay, and once more take up the inside route.

Another day was spent waiting for the conditions to become more
favorable.  Time was not any great factor in their cruise, but safety
did enter very much into their calculations.  They had passed through
another stormy period and were quite satisfied to snuggle down to camp,
to rest up after their arduous work of the last few days, wriggling
their way through those tortuous creeks, and working the setting pole
at times for hours, when the saving of the precious gasolene became an
object.

"How's this for the right morning?" asked George, who was anxious to
have the long and hazardous outside run over with.

"Looks good to me, so far," said Jack, "and I guess we'll get off right
after we've had breakfast.  We might wait longer and fare worse, you
know, George."

"Oh!  I'm ready for the run.  It can't come any too soon to suit me,"
declared the skipper of the _Wireless_, "and I honestly believe I've
got my engine in better shape than ever before."

"Thank goodness for that!" said Nick, who did not look any too happy.

And at seven o'clock, while the sun was hanging low in the east, they
started off, with the longest outside run of the cruise confronting
them; and all sorts of possibilities for trouble looming up on the
horizon.




CHAPTER XXI.

FOG BOUND WHILE AT SEA.

"How much further do we have to go, Jack?"

It was Herb calling out after this style.  The three boats were close
together, and steadily making progress over the heaving surface of the
ocean.  Off to the right lay the shore, plainly seen, though they did
not dare approach too close, lest they get into that sickening ground
swell, that rolled the narrow _Wireless_ in a way to make those aboard
dizzy.

"As near as I can judge we ought to see the mouth of Winyah Bay inside
of the next half hour.  It's different from an inlet, you understand,
and wide enough to fool us, unless we take great care," replied the
commodore, who had his marine glasses leveled at the shore about half
the time, trying to pick up landmarks calculated to tell him where they
were.

"Wow! that _would_ be a tough proposition, now!" shouted Josh.  "What
if we did go past, why we'd just have to keep right along this way till
we made Charleston."

"Don't you think of trying it," called Nick, from the _Wireless_, which
was being held in leash by the now cautious skipper.  "Why, this
racking fever of anxiety would just kill us if it had to keep up much
longer, and that's right, fellows, even if George here won't
acknowledge the corn."

"Oh! shucks! it isn't half as bad as you make out, Nick.  The trouble
is, you're so plagued logy you can't keep the balance of the boat.
These thoroughbreds are delicately constructed, you see, and have to be
treated different from other boats."

"I should just guess, yes," complained poor Nick, in a dolorous tone.
"A feller has to be thinking of the blessed old boat all the while, and
forget his own aches and pains.  Why, every muscle in my whole body is
sore from the strain."

"I say, Jack, would ye moind turnin' the glass back yander and tellin'
us what sort of thing that cloud is that hugs the wather so close?
I've been watching the same some time now, and I do think it's comin'
this way," Jimmy remarked, loud enough for the others to hear, so that
immediately every eye was quickly turned in the quarter toward which
the Irish lad had pointed.

Jack immediately felt a sudden thrill of alarm pass over him, even
before he had focussed the glasses upon Jimmy's so-called "cloud."  He
suspected what it might prove to be, and the very thought of being
caught out on the ocean by a fog gave him a decidedly unpleasant
sensation.

"Say, that ain't a cloud, I bet you," declared Nick.

"Looks more like fog to me," Josh called out, "and as sure as you live,
boys, it's creeping down this way and widening out like fun.  Hey!
Jack, ain't that fog?"

"It sure is," replied the one who held the glasses, as he lowered them
and cast an anxious look in the direction of the shore, as though he
would take a last survey before the land became blotted out.

This was one of the things Jack had feared.  A sudden storm of course
would have brought alarm in its train; but this silent yet gripping fog
might be just as potent a force toward their undoing.  Once it
enveloped them, they were apt to grope along for hours, possibly
working more and more out to see.  And when a wind dissipated the fog,
perhaps they could not see land!

Jack immediately determined to risk minor dangers by turning in more
toward the shore.  If he could only listen for the beating of the
rollers on the beach, it would be possible to tell when they came to
the open bay by the sudden cessation of this sound.

"What are you changing the course for?" demanded George, suspiciously,
a minute later, though he followed suit readily enough, determined not
to get far away from the other more stable boats.

"We'd better get in nearer shore, so we can hear the sound of the
surf," Jack replied.

"Oh!  I see, you hope to keep tabs on our course by ear, when the eye
fails us; is that it, Jack?" asked Herb.

"That's one reason," Jack called back.  "Perhaps we may be able to tell
when we're opposite the mouth of the bay, if we listen carefully.  But
in another five minutes that fog will be down on us, boys, by the way
it creeps on, faster than we are going."

"How about signals?" asked George.

"Every boat has a horn of some sort, and you remember what the
different blasts mean.  The _Tramp_ is a single toot, the _Comfort_ two
in quick succession, while your _Wireless_ is denoted by three sharp
ones, George.  Four will mean that we must turn a little more to
starboard, and five, draw closer together for a confab.  Got all that,
now?"

"All right here, Jack," assented Herb.

"And ditto with us," declared George.

"Well, be watchful and ready for anything, for here comes the wet
blanket to cover us," observed Jack.

It was a nasty fog, as thick as pea soup, as George called out a little
later.  First the outlines of the shore were blotted out as though by
an impenetrable curtain.  Then even the boats, close as they were,
began to go, until it was no longer possible to distinguish them from
the sea of gray vapor around.

Naturally the boys felt exceedingly nervous every minute of the time.
Jack had reduced speed, for he did not wish to run past the mouth of
Winyah Bay, if such a thing could be prevented by due caution.

An hour crept along.  It seemed like three times that length of time to
every one of the listening lads.  All this while they had managed to
catch that low throbbing sound from the shore.  Sometimes it would be
very faint, and require careful work in order to locate it; then again
the beat of the waves on the sandy strand came quite distinctly.

Somehow, as long as they could catch this reassuring sound, they seemed
to feel renewed confidence.  And yet the strain was terrible.  The day
was passing, and if night came on, to find them still groping their way
in this incertain manner down the South Carolina coast, the prospect
would seem gloomy indeed.

No one seemed to care to eat much.  Even Nick, for the time being, had
gone back on that wonderful appetite of his, and actually turned up his
nose when George got out the bag that contained hard tack and cheese,
asking the fat boy if he cared to have a "snack" to fortify him against
what might yet be in store for them.

"Excuse me," said Nick, loftily.  "There are times to eat, but
according to my way of thinking this ain't one of 'em.  When a feller
has to do a lot of high thinking he'd be wise to keep his mind clear
and let grub alone."

Truth to tell, Nick was feeling rather squeamish.  The swell rolled the
narrow boat more than had been the case when they kept further out; and
besides, such were his fears that they affected his nerves, and also
his stomach.

"All right," said George, who did not happen to be in the same
condition, "I'm not a big feeder, but it's always wise to keep up your
strength.  And talking about letting grub alone, when you once get
ashore again the way you'll pitch in must make our supplies look sad.
I know you, Nick; you can't fool me."

Nick disdained to make any reply.  He even turned his back on the
skipper when George started to munch biscuit and cheese.

"What time is it?" asked George, after a while, upon seeing the fat boy
look at his little nickel watch, for the tenth time at least.

"Just three o'clock!" groaned Nick, sadly replacing his timepiece and
looking longingly toward the west, where he knew solid ground lay, if
only they could ever set feet upon it once more.

"And we started out on the sea by eight," remarked George.  "Say,
that's something worth while; and when we get to talking it over we'll
have reason to be proud of the way these bully little boats have served
us.  Eight hours on the ocean; just think of that, will you?"

The others were close enough to hear what was said, for it was quite
still, as the motors were running at a reduced speed.

"Perhaps it may be eighty before we're done!" called Josh, on the right.

"I do believe we're going to bring up on the coast of Ould Ireland
before we're through with this job!" Jimmy was saying, from some unseen
place on the port side of the _Wireless_, which happened to be
occupying the middle berth at the time.

At that the rest broke out into a laugh, though truth to tell there was
not any too much mirth about the same.

"Say, I haven't heard anything for nearly five minutes now, Jack!"
called Herb, who, it seemed, was paying strict attention to business,
and not bothering about whether he got anything to eat or not, or what
would happen in case they headed out into the vast expanse of salt
water that stretched across to Africa.

"Same here, Herb," echoed Jack.

"Do you think we've been heading out too far, and is that the reason,
Jack?"

"I've got my compass right before me and, if anything, we've been
edging in just a little bit more than at any other time," came Jack's
answer.

"Then what?" asked the _Comfort's_ skipper, eagerly.

"Perhaps the bay has opened up, and the shore line is miles away from
us!" was the cheering way Jack put it.

"Good for you, commodore!" called Josh.

"Oh!  I hope that's so!" wailed Nick.

"But how are we going to find out?" queried Herb.

"By changing our course directly into the west, and taking the bull by
the horns," Jack replied, boldly.  "We can creep along, you know, and
if we've made a mistake, why, it's easy to turn around and bear away
again.  But somehow, I've got a pretty strong notion things are going
to work out all right for us, fellows."

"Hurrah! that's the kind of talk!" cried Nick, beginning to perk up a
little, and wonder if after all George might not be right when he said
that they owed it to themselves as a duty to eat, whether hungry or
not, in order to conserve their strength for any emergency.

"Are you turning now, Jack?" asked George.

"Yes; keep close by and try to pattern after what I do.  Here goes,
then, fellows."

"Hit her up; who cares for expenses?" cried Josh, who had been taking
it comfortably right along, and seemed almost free from care.

By exercising more or less caution, they managed to change their course
without losing each other in the fog.  This was accomplished by calling
out from time to time, or even sounding the signals on the horns.

In this fashion then they began to creep along.  Only for that compass
which Jack had before him, they might as well have been heading out to
sea, for all any one could say.

"Me to get a compass as soon as we strike Charleston!" declared Herb.

"Yes, and George must do the same," Jack declared, from somewhere in
the opaque mist.  "Supposing we were separated in some way; you two
fellows would be badly off with no means for locating east from west,
or north from south."

"Jack, darlint!" they heard Jimmy cry out just then.

"What is it?" asked the skipper of the _Tramp_.

"I do be thinkin' I saw a break in the beastly ould fog beyont us; yis,
an' by the powers, it's a braze that fans me cheek at this identical
minute!"

"He's right, fellows!" shouted George.

"Then that means good-bye to the nasty old fog, which will be a
riddance of bad rubbish!" called the overjoyed Nick, reaching out and
possessing himself of the cracker bag, so as to be ready to do his duty
by his system.

"The breeze is dead ahead, boys," said Jack.  "And in that event the
fog will be swept to sea.  Watch now, and you'll see something worth
while."

Jack evidently knew what he was talking about, for in less than five
minutes it seemed as though some wizard must have waved his magical
wand, for suddenly they shot out of the thick pea-soup atmosphere and
into the bright sunshine.

They were indeed in a big bay, with land on three sides.  The sun, now
half way and more down the western sky, shone in an unclouded field,
and the water danced in the fresh shore breeze.

Then every fellow shouted and waved his hat, such was the relief that
passed over them at the successful termination of the long outside dash.

"Don't any one of you ever dare to run my bully engine down, after it
has stood by me so nobly," George was saying, as they started at a
faster clip up still further into Winyah Bay, into which the Peedee
River empties.

No one was disposed to cast the slightest reflection on the cranky
motor of the speed boat; for just then they were feeling at peace with
all the world, and quite ready to forgive their worst enemies.

That night they camped on the shore of a creek that emptied into the
bay, ready to take up their southern journey with the coming of the
morrow.




CHAPTER XXII.

SAVANNAH AT LAST.

After that came some more hard inside work.  There were times when even
the sanguine Jack began to fear that they would never reach Charleston;
for even at high tide they found the connecting creeks in many
instances little more than shallow ponds, and before they could break
through, considerable pushing and dragging had to be done.

But where there is a will there usually appears to be a way; and by
slow degrees they drew nearer the city on the coast.

"With good luck, fellows, we ought to make it tomorrow," Jack
announced, one evening, after he had been closely examining his charts
again by the light of the cheery camp fire.

"Do you really mean it, Jack, darlint?" demanded Jimmy, with the air of
one who had almost given up hope.

"I sure do," replied the other.  "As I make it out, this is Bull's
Island we are on right now.  If that's a fact, there's a fine inside
passage all the way to Charleston Bay, behind several other islands, or
at least one big one called Capers.  Our troubles are over, so far as
this part of the trip goes."

"That's bully good news you're giving us, Jack," remarked George; "and
I hope it won't prove a delusion and a snare.  I've had about as much
of that push pole business as is good for my constitution, I guess."

"Yes, and look at me!" cried Nick, pulling a long face, though with
only a great effort; "pretty near skin and bones, with all this worry
and hard work; and to add insult to injury, put on half rations
latterly.  It's a shame, that's what."

"Rats!" scoffed the unbelieving George; "I'd like to wager now that
you've gone and picked up ten pounds since starting on this cruise.  By
the way you put away the grub it ought to be nearer twenty."

"You don't mean to hurt my feelings, I know, George," said the fat boy,
sweetly; "and, considering the source, I'll forgive you.  But I warn
you plainly, right now, that if I have to keep on being crew to your
blooming old speed boat, I'm going to lay in a lot of rubber cushions
at Charleston, so as to keep me from rubbing all the skin off my poor
body when I have to sleep aboard here, and the boat wabbles with every
teenty wave.  Don't you say a word, for my mind's made up."

"Oh! get whatever you want in that line; it doesn't make a bit of
difference to me.  I never have needed cushions so far," George
exploded, sarcastically.

"Huh! that's easy; because you've got me to bang up against!" exclaimed
Nick.

"That's right, George; he's got one on you there," laughed Jack.

"And who'd want a finer cushion than our Nick?" remarked Herb.

"Nature knew what was needed, when he was padded and filled out so
well," Josh managed to work in with; "and if ever I needed a bumper,
I'd pick him out first thing."

"Get out!" snapped Nick; but all the same he grinned as though
complimented.

On the following morning, then, they made an early start, for there was
considerable of a distance to be covered ere they could reach the
hospitable docks of Charleston by the sea.

Jack knew that their supply of gas was growing alarmingly low.  Indeed,
George had already been obliged to borrow from the _Comfort_, as that
craft had the largest reservoir and could spare a little.

"It's going to be a close shave to get us there," he remarked, as they
started.

"What if my tank goes empty again?" demanded George.

"I've been thinking of that," said Jack.  "As a last resort then, we'll
make camp, empty all we've got into one tank, and that boat can go
after a new supply."

"That's the ticket!" cried Josh.

"It takes Jack to solve these maddening puzzles!" declared Nick, with a
look of affection in the direction of the chum who never failed them.

"But still, I have hopes we'll all pull through," Jack continued,
encouragingly.

"How'd it be for one of the boats to do the towing act?" suggested Herb.

"And that would mean the _Comfort_, because she's built more on the
lines of a tow boat than either of the others," remarked George.  "I
enter a kick against anything of the kind.  It's bad enough to be
humiliated that way when a fellow's motor goes back on him; but in calm
weather, and with the engine in the pink of condition, it just can't be
thought of for a minute."

"Hey! what you trying to do again; throw me overboard?" demanded Nick,
aggressively, as he floundered about when the _Wireless_ came to a
sudden and totally unexpected stop, just as George ceased speaking.

"His engine broke down again, that's what!" jeered Josh.

"Is that a fact, George?" asked Jack, provoked at the idea of delay.

"Oh! not quite so bad as that," replied George, peevishly; "I think I
know what happened.  I forgot something, that's all.  Perhaps I can
have it fixed in three shakes of a lamb's tail.  You go on, and I'll
catch up easy enough."

"Don't you dare to do it, fellows!" cried Nick.  "That might mean for
us to be marooned here a whole day, yes, mebbe a week.  And most of the
grub is aboard that old _Comfort_, you see."

"We'll wait a while and see how it comes out," remarked Jack.  "Do you
need any help, George?"

"Who, me?  Not in the least.  I tell you, I know what's ailing, and
I'll get it to going all right in five minutes," George answered,
stiffly, for the many freaks of his engine gave him unhappy spells; as
Josh once declared, it was like a certain girl he knew, in that "when
it was good, it was very, very good; and when it was bad, it was
hor-rid!"

However, for once George proved to be a truthful prophet.  By the time
those five minutes were up, he had succeeded in coaxing the refractory
motor to behave itself; and suddenly the _Wireless_ shot off amid a
rattling volley of explosions that told full well how her muffler was
cut out.

George continued on at a pace that took him far ahead of the rest.
Then they saw him draw up and wait, as though, having demonstrated the
ability of his motor to do good work, caution again dictated that he
keep in touch with the supply boat and the pilot craft.

That day was the easiest of the week.  They had an open passage nearly
all the way to the bay, the weather was all that could be asked; and
the rest did seem so fine after so much hard labor with push poles.

"If this sort of thing would only keep up," Nick remarked, as they
landed on a sandspit to make a fire and have a pot of hot coffee at
noon, in order to cheer things up, "I'd have some hope of getting back
to my former condition again."

"Well, if that means taking up any more room aboard my boat," grunted
George, "I hope you won't do it.  Things are getting to a pass now that
I'm feeling squeezed half the time.  Some day we hope you're going to
have that ferryboat made to order, as you've been threatening.  Say,
it'll just be a jim dandy, I guess."

"It's going to combine speed with comfort," declared Nick,
unblushingly.  "While it'll beat Herb's tub all hollow for room, at the
same time it can make rings around the poor old _Wireless_.  Just you
wait; I've got her all mapped out in my head, and some day I'll
surprise the bunch."

The afternoon run took them in good time to where the sound they were
following broke into Charleston Bay.

"There's the ruins of old Fort Sumter!" cried Nick, as they saw the
lovely panorama spread out in front of them.

"And Port Moultrie, too!  Gee! to think that we'd ever get to set eyes
on the places we used to read so much about in history," said Josh,
staring around.

"Well," laughed Jack, "to my mind right now, the best of it is that
yonder lies Charleston, where we can lay in a new supply of gas;
because I'm expecting to find any minute that my well has gone dry.
It's an awful thing to have a thirsty engine and nothing to feed it.
But perhaps I'll pull through by making every drop tell."

It proved to be better than that, for there was not the slightest
trouble experienced in making the run up the bay to the city.

Skirting the shore, Jack kept his eyes on the alert for some shipyard,
knowing that such a place would better accommodate the three power
boats than any other harbor.

It happened that Jimmy's sharp eyes caught the first sign of a boat
builder's establishment, and presently the three little craft that had
come through such a checkered experience with credit, were secured to
landings within the enclosed space of the shipyard.

Here it was determined to remain for a couple of days, as there were a
number of things to be done besides replenishing their stock of fuel
and food.

All of the boys wanted to see the city, about which, with its beauties,
they had heard considerable.

"From here on to Jacksonville we ought to have it fairly easy," Jack
explained to the rest.  "There's an inside route taken by steamers to
Savannah, and from that Georgia city clear to Fernandina in Florida.
Then we will have to go out for just a little run; after which we enter
the broad mouth of the St. Johns."

"And we'll really be in Florida then, will we?" asked Nick.  "My
goodness; sometimes, when we were sticking in those mud creeks, it
seemed to me that Florida must be just six thousand miles away.  And
we're going to make it after all?  Well, that's what comes of push and
grit.  You fellers would have laid down long ago, only for my keeping
everlastingly at it.  But you're improving, I admit that; and I've got
hopes that in time you'll do me credit."

Of course they were quite used to Nick's method of joshing, and took
all this in good part.  Had it been any one else he might have been
suspected of egotism; but they all knew Nick, and what an effort it was
to get him to do anything requiring an effort; so that the joke was not
lost.

"When you take to prodding us to do things, water is going to run
up-hill," was George's way of heading him off.

"Well, fellows, there have been a few things Nick knows how to do
better than the rest of the bunch, you must admit that," Jack remarked,
dryly.

"'Course we do," grinned Josh.  "F'r instance, he can beat any bullfrog
I ever set eyes on, makin' a jump from a boat into the water."

"And sure, he can give the rist of us points on how to balance a boat
by partin' his hair exactly in the meddle," Jimmy spoke up.

"And there ain't a living soul in the same class with Nick when it
comes to stowing away grub.  I've often sat and admired him at it,
until I just groaned in despair of ever being able to copy after him.
I ain't built the right way, boys, you see.  My pockets won't stretch
far enough."

"Oh! keep it going, if it pleases you, boys," the good natured Nick
observed; "it don't hurt me any more'n water falling on a duck's back.
Josh as much as admits that he's just consumed by envy because he can't
enjoy his food like I do.  But I'm used to being knocked around like a
football.  George here has rolled all over me forty times, I guess,
since we've been shipmates.  I'm beginning to get calloused around my
elbows and knees.  By the time this cruise is finished I'll be ready to
hire out in a side show as the only and original human punching bag."

The stay in Charleston was covered in two days, during which they
managed to get around pretty well, and see all that was worth while.
Besides, they had laid in all necessary stores, and the gas supply was
looked after.

On the third morning the Motor Boat Club set out along the wide Stone
River, which soon narrowed, as all these southern rivers have a habit
of doing, a short distance from its mouth.  Then, by degrees, they
passed through a tortuous channel, that, being safely navigated, took
them in turn to another river, called the Wadmelaw.

Passing the lower stretches of the swift running Edisto River, they
managed to make the northern shore of St. Helena Sound by the middle of
the afternoon; and an hour later determined to camp there in the open,
rather than enter the tortuous watercourses leading to Beaufort.

An early start on the following day gave them a chance to pass Beaufort
before ten o'clock, and then head for distant Savannah.

The course was intricate; but Jack studied his chart closely; and
besides, they discovered that the channel was located by means of
targets which doubtless had been placed there by the steamboat company,
so that with any exercise of care they had little excuse for going
astray.

And as the last of Calibogue Sound was left behind they managed to
reach the wide Savannah River, just as the sun was sinking in the west.




CHAPTER XXIII.

THANKS TO THE PILOT--CONCLUSION.

When the adventurous six left Savannah in their wake, and struck in for
the stream below the city which would take them to Wassaw Sound, they
knew that they had really started on what was destined to be the last
leg of the trip to Florida.

By noon they had managed to make Ossaban Sound, and still kept on,
hoping to cross the wide reach that formed St. Catherine's Sound that
same day.  But it was not to be.  The sky clouded up, the wind whipped
into the northwest, and in a short time the boys realized that it was
getting very chilly for this far south, in the middle of October.

When they saw the wild aspect that wide stretch of tumbling water
presented, it was quickly settled that the crossing must be put off
until another day.  Accordingly camp was made in a hamak, where the
force of the wind was broken.  And here they proceeded to take things
as comfortably as possible.

George took his gun and went out to see if he could scare up any sort
of game; for there had been murmurings of late to the effect that they
did not seem to be getting their full share of such things on this trip.

The fact of the matter was, that so much of their precious time was
spent in trying to overcome the numerous difficulties by which they
found themselves confronted, that there were scant opportunities for
fishing and hunting.

Nick persisted in getting a line out, as he had been seized with a
great desire to partake of fresh fish for supper, and no one else
showed any signs of intending to make a try.

Twenty minutes later those in camp were aroused by hearing a tremendous
splash, accompanied by half muffled shouts.

"Help! come quickly, or he'll get away!  Hurry! hurry, boys!"

Everybody ran like the wind to the spot where Nick had been seen calmly
seated on a log that projected over the water, offering him a fine
seat, from which to carry on his fishing operations.

What they discovered was the stout boy floundering in the water of the
sound, being drawn this way and that by some unseen agency that was
fastened to the other end of his line.

Nick's obstinate disposition was made manifest by the frantic way he
clung to that same fishing line.  No danger seemed sufficient to cause
him to let it go.  Perhaps, though, he had been unwise enough to wrap
the cord around his chubby wrist, and could not have let loose, even
had he so desired.

Josh doubled up, and fairly howled, the sight was so very comical to
him; which made the fisherman all the more angry.

"What ails that silly goose?" he spluttered, as well as he was able,
considering that half the time his mouth was filled with salty water.
"He only thinks of the funny part of it.  Don't care a cent whether a
human life is sacrificed on the altar of friendship; or a jolly big
fish breaks the line and gets away.  Jack, somebody come on in, and
help me land him, won't you?"

Jack was already throwing his coat off, and in another minute he had
leaped from the bank into the water.  Just as Nick had said, there was
some danger that he might be dragged out beyond his depth; and at least
the great struggling fish was liable to break away, and become lost to
them.

Once Jack got hold of the line, and it was all over.  By degrees they
drew the captive to the shore, upon which he was finally cast, proving
to be an enormous red drum, or as they are called in the South, a
channel bass, weighing pretty nearly forty pounds, Jack figured.

"Is it good to eat?" was the first natural question fired at him by
Nick, whose eyes were fairly glistening with pride as they watched the
dying flops of the bronze-backed quarry.

"First rate, if a bit dry," Jack replied.  "The meat is snow white, and
something like halibut, only not quite so fine.  But it's a great day
for you, Nick.  I can see one time when you're sure to get your fill."

Indeed, it proved to be a good day all around, for just then they heard
George letting fly with both barrels, and following it with a glad
whoop.

"He's gone and got something," declared Josh.  "Ain't it queer how
things run?  With us it's feast or a famine all the while.  D'ye reckon
it was a deer he knocked over, Jack?"

"More'n likely another shoat," said Nick, grinning; "but even if it is,
razorback pork ain't half bad when a feller's real hungry."

Presently George came in.  It was getting near dusk, and they could
just see that he was carrying a load of some sort on his back, which he
tried to hide until he could reach camp.

Josh began to grunt at a lively rate, by which he hinted that they
anticipated another diet of pork.

"What did you run up against, George?" asked Jack.

"That!" exclaimed the proud Nimrod, as he swung his burden around.

"Great governor! it's a turkey, as sure as you live!" shouted Josh.

At that Nick could hold in no longer, but began to dance around in
great glee, rubbing himself as though in anticipation of the feast to
come, and making all sorts of suggestive motions, after the manner of a
man feeding.

"How under the sun did you get close enough to knock the big bird down
with a charge of quail shot?" asked Jack, pleased because George had
held up his reputation as a sportsman.

"I don't just know," replied the other.  "I was standing in the shade
of a tree, and thinking that it was no use going further, when
something lighted close by me, and I saw it was a wild turkey.  Well, I
just up and gave him both barrels, as fast as I could pull the
triggers.  Then he flopped over, I ran forward and nailed my prize.
And he's pretty heavy to tote any distance, too, I tell you."

"That means another of those earth ovens tonight, don't it, Jack?"
asked Nick.

"Nothing else would do the business," came the reply; "and so everybody
get busy, piling up the wood while I dig a hole," replied the one
addressed.

The turkey was baked to a turn when they uncovered the oven in the
morning, and, having their appetites along, even so early in the day,
those six lads made that noble bird look like a rack of bones before
they admitted that they were satisfied.  Indeed, they had to fairly
drag Nick away from the wreck, for he declared it to be the finest
treat of his whole life.

But then, he often said that.  What was present always seemed the best
to Nick.  Fading events held little interest for him, since the mill
could never grind again with the water that was past.

In the morning the big sound looked smooth enough to tempt them upon
its treacherous bosom.  The crossing was made with ease; and later on
came Sapelo with its particular troubles, the wind having risen
meanwhile.

But the boats proved seaworthy, and the young Corinthians who manned
them had learned many a valuable lesson from past experiences; so that
by noon they had navigated this dangerous sheet of water and were well
along their way.

"There's a lighthouse away over there, Jack," announced Josh, pointing
ahead.

"Yes; that must be Doboy Light, and the sound of the same name will be
the next to take our attention, boys," Jack replied, composedly, as
though he had the entire map of the coast region impressed on his mind
by now.

"Is there any end to 'em?" asked Nick, dolefully.

"Two more before we reach Fernandina, St. Simon's and big Cumberland.
And after we've rested at Fernandina we'll go through a few more
passages, and then take a little outside run of a few miles, when we
can enter the St. Johns."

"Oh! happy day!" chanted Josh, pretending to strum a banjo as he sang.

"Then, if all goes well, we ought to bring up at Jacksonville inside of
say two days at the most; is that so, Jack?" Herb inquired.

"Correct.  And nothing is going to happen, make up your mind to that,
fellows," Jack declared, resolutely.  "We've allowed nothing to
frighten us up to now, and yet used a due amount of caution, just as we
promised those at home, when they gave us permission to take this jolly
trip.  And that's our slogan all the time, 'Speed, with care!'  It's a
winning combination, I tell you, boys."

They spent the night near Darien, in a creek that they happened to be
passing through as a sort of short-cut.

Jack's confidence proved to be well placed, for on the following day
they safely passed both St. Simon's and the big Cumberland Sound,
bringing up close to Fernandina by nightfall.

Jack advised against trying to reach the city in the dusk.  There was
danger of running upon a snag, or happening to attract the attention of
dissolute characters, who, taking advantage of the darkness of the
night and the fact of the cruisers being strangers to the place, might
attempt to rob them.

His plan was to stay where they were, a safe distance away, until
morning, and then make their way across to the city.

"Just to think that we've really and truly done it," said Nick, puffing
out with either pride or the amount of food he had consumed for supper;
"and right at this minute the Motor Boat Club is resting on Florida
soil!  Why, I can hardly believe it.  A year ago I'd have laughed if
any fellow told me I'd engage to do one quarter of the stunts we've
carried out since we left Philadelphia."

"Oh! you're improving every way," chuckled Josh.  "I can even see signs
of it in your eating.  You've got three of us combined beat to a
frazzle right now; and honest Injun, we think that by another month you
can stand off the whole bunch.  Long practice makes for success, and we
all give you credit for trying your level best, Nick, every time."

It was a lovely night, this their first in Florida.  The trees,
festooned with the long, swinging, gray Spanish moss, looked like the
real tropical thing to all of the boys.  And they felt a pride that was
surely justifiable, in the success that had attended their cruise down
the coast.

"Best thing we ever did, and that's straight," asserted Herb.

"And not one serious accident to mar the record," Jack nodded, his eyes
sparkling with satisfaction.

"Of course we don't count those several little adventures of our fat
friend here," Josh put in, jerking his thumb in the direction of Nick,
"because we all understand that, being such a good-natured fellow, and
wanting to keep us in good humor, he did those stunts on purpose.  Yes,
I agree with the rest of you, that we deserve a whole lot of credit for
coming through it all without a serious accident."

"And much of that luck is due to the wise head that piloted the
expedition," declared George, generously; "and fellows, I propose that
here and now, on the first night we spend on Florida soil, we give Jack
Stormways three good cheers and a tiger, just to show that we
appreciate his leadership.  Here goes!"

And they were given with a will that must have made Jack's boyish heart
swell with pleasure; for who among us but would feel flattered at the
expression of admiration from his chums?

The next day they made for Nassau Sound; and happening to strike a
favorable time for passing over the few miles in the open, they crossed
the bar at the mouth of the St. Johns at just half-past two, continuing
up the river to the metropolis of fair Florida.

Here in Jacksonville we will have to leave them for a time,
recuperating after their eventful voyage, and making due preparations
for continuing the same through Indian River and the keys that dot the
whole Florida coast, with New Orleans as their destination.




THE END.



The further interesting and thrilling adventures of the Motor Boat Boys
will be found in volume No. 5 of this series, entitled "The Motor Boat
Boys Among the Florida Keys; or, A Struggle for the Leadership."




[Transcriber's note: This short story was part of the source book.  Its
author is unknown.]




MRS. STONE'S MONEY-ORDER.

One day a well dressed lady, purporting to be Mrs. Richard Stone,
called at the money-order division of the New York office and asked for
the money on an order for £10, which had been issued in Lowestoft,
England, payable to the order of Richard Stone.  The order presented on
this occasion had apparently been properly endorsed by Richard Stone,
who had made it payable to his wife.

The only precaution necessary on the part of the examiners and paying
clerks was, therefore, simply to satisfy themselves that the lady was
Mrs. Richard Stone, the rightful payee.  There being no person present
to identify her she exhibited several letters addressed to herself and
her husband, and the identical letter from Lowestoft, which contained
the money-order.

She told them where her husband was employed, and gave the name and
number of the street of their residence.  It seemed clear enough, and
the money was paid.

Just such transactions as this occur a hundred times a day, and it
cannot be expected that the clerks can remember very much about any
particular transaction many hours after it occurs.  Three weeks later,
when another lady called, also purporting to be Mrs. Richard Stone, to
make inquiries about a money order for £10 sent to her husband from
Lowestoft, England, there was not very much to say except that the
order had been paid.

This lady also produced a letter from her husband's sister in
Lowestoft, saying that on a certain day she sent a money-order for the
amount named; that she had just received his last letter, and there
being nothing said about having received the order, she wrote to
ascertain if the order had not been received.

Mrs. Stone, the second, stated that this was the first that her
husband, or herself, had known of the existence of such an order, and
she had called to see what could be done about it.  If it had been
paid, surely somebody must be responsible for the wrong payment.

It is the custom, where a wrong payment can be established, for the
postmaster or the clerk making the mistake, to make the amount good to
the right payee.  Mrs. Stone's case was accordingly referred to me for
adjustment.

Her story was told in such a simple manner that no one who heard it
could doubt her word.  But it was possible that she had received the
money, and had forgotten about the transaction.

When the order was paid the lady who received the money was questioned
by two examiners, both of whom were satisfied that she was the person
to whom the order should be paid.  The same two examiners talked with
Mrs. Stone, the second, and one of them thought she was the lady to
whom the money was paid, while the other could distinguish very little
similarity and felt confident the first Mrs. Stone was not the second
Mrs. Stone.

On the following day Richard Stone himself called to talk the matter
over and give me some points.  He suspected a young woman named Nellie
Mason, who had been in the habit of calling on his wife, who was an old
friend of hers, and who resembled her very much.

Mr. and Mrs. Stone resided in Twenty-eighth Street at this time, but at
the time the missing letter must have arrived in New York they were
living in a flat in Twenty-seventh Street.  The mail for the occupants
of this flat was left by the carrier on a table in the lower hall, and
any person so inclined could have picked up the lost letter.

He had several samples of Nellie Mason's writing in the form of letters
that Mrs. Stone had received from her from time to time, and they
corresponded with the endorsements on the order.

The case was now becoming interesting, and, at Stone's request, I
consented to call at his residence the next afternoon to talk with Mrs.
Stone about Miss Mason.

Richard Stone was a young man of probably thirty-two, and an
Englishman.  His dress and appearance were faultless, while his
conversation indicated that he was well educated.  He had been in this
country scarcely fifteen months, yet he was holding a confidential
position in one of the largest corporations in the city, where he was
held in the highest esteem, and where he was complimented alike for his
rare abilities and gentlemanly deportment.  Indeed, every person
interested was delighted with him, and they had all often wondered at
their good fortune in securing the services of such a preeminently
competent man.

Mrs. Stone was somewhat younger than her husband, and was of fair size
and fine form.  "Her brow was like the snowdrift; her voice was low and
sweet," and nature had also generously endowed her with an abundance of
the most beautiful red hair that ever gladdened the heart of man with
its warm and genial rays.  She was an American, and had been married to
Mr. Stone only a few months.

Mr. and Mrs. Stone were both at home when I called.  I was as warmly
greeted as though I had been a welcome messenger of peace from a mortal
enemy.  Mrs. Stone had hardly recovered from a terrible scare she had
received the previous evening, and the household affairs had scarcely
resumed their wonted cheerfulness and repose.

"Was it a burglar?"  "No, worse than burglars!"  And having never
learned that anything brought more terror to womankind than the soft
step of the artful burglar, I listened with bated breath to the
interesting story of the husband.

It was his custom to arrive home each afternoon about six o'clock,
where the bright smiles of Mrs. Stone had never, till yesterday, failed
to bathe him in the warm and tender adorations of perennial affection.
Last evening when he entered at the usual hour the house was still and
dark, and the bright face of his loved one greeted him not.

A strange man approached him, in as great surprise us if the dead had
come to life, and bade him be calm and composed, and said he thought
Mrs. Stone would soon recover consciousness; that somebody had sent her
word that her husband had been killed, and the shock was too great and
too sudden for her to bear.  A telegram from a down-town office, which
brought the dreadful intelligence, lay upon the table, and it was
signed, simply "N. M."

From this circumstance alone it was painfully evident that Nellie Mason
was a bad and designing individual.  Mrs. Stone was sweetly reclining
on a richly-covered couch, and her faithful husband was lovingly
administering to her every little want.  The lady, like tender blades
of grass that have been watered by a passing storm, seemed more
beautiful than before her severe trial.  Under the warm sunshine of
sympathy and love, her many pleasing charms shone like diamonds in the
diadem of royalty.

Seating myself within easy hearing distance of the fair Mrs. Stone, she
began the enchanting tale about Nellie Mason, the sorceress.  It was as
follows:

"My maiden name was Francis West.  My parents died when I was young,
and I went to live with an aunt in Peekskill on the Hudson.  There I
received every attention that a dear relative could bestow upon the
young offspring of a deceased sister.  There I attended school, and in
that school I first met Nellie Mason.  She was about my age, and, like
myself, was living with an aunt, though she was not an orphan.

"Pardon me when I tell you that I was an attractive young miss in those
days.  Young girls know as well as older ones that good looks, grace,
and fine dress are envious attractions.  No one understood this more
perfectly than Nellie Mason.

"At school, at church, at parties, and everywhere, she seemed to grieve
at my good fortune.  I always treated her kindly, for I had been taught
the charm of charity, yet, with all, it seemed that sometimes I could
no longer bear the unpleasant feeling that steals over a person when it
is known that another is constantly trying to imitate, and perhaps
injure you.

"It is true, she looked like me in several particulars.  That is,
Nature had made her something like me, and the points of difference she
was ceaselessly attempting to assimilate.  There was only one marked
difference, but that was easily changed.  Her hair was brown; now it is
exactly like mine.  We were in the same classes and the same social
circles.

"She tried to imitate my voice, my actions, and, so perfectly did she
imitate my writing, that no person can tell which is the genuine and
which the false.  Whenever I procured a new gown, Nellie was as certain
to have one like it as she was to live.  She would even squeeze her
foot into a two-and-a-half shoe, and was dying to imitate my smile.
Poor thing, how I did worry her!  But what bothered her more than
anything else, was her inability in every instance to associate with
the same particular persons that I did.

"In Peekskill, as I suppose it is in most places of its size, the young
men are quite attentive to the young ladies.  While my aunt was very
solicitous about my company, I managed to receive about as much
attention as the other girls, and, do you know, I never had a beau in
my life that Nellie did not try to get away from me.

"Finally, just to bother her, I would tell the young men that if they
paid Miss Mason any attention I would have nothing whatever to do with
them; that I would cut them squarely.  Well, one young fellow, whom I
had thus admonished, thought it would be smart to tell the young lady
what I had said, and since that day Nellie Mason has not been trying so
much to imitate as she evidently has to injure me.

"Soon after I married Richard and came to New York to live, Nellie went
home to Lewiston, Maine; and after she had been there a while she wrote
me a letter in which she said she had married.  I have her letter now.
She did not remain long in Lewiston, for the next thing I heard of her
she was here in New York.

"She called on me and said she was living with a Mrs. Gilbert, in East
Thirteenth Street; that she and her husband had quarreled, and that she
had resolved to make her own living, and was then at work in an
Insurance office.  It is needless for me to say that I did not return
the call, but I presume it would have been better for me if I had.

"One evening, about half-past five, about three weeks before we left
our old apartments, one of Mr. Stone's most intimate friends called.
There was nothing particularly singular or remarkable about the call,
for the gentleman often came with Richard and made real homelike
visits.  He had not been in the house long on this occasion before he
said he was delighted to receive my kind letter.  Of course, not
knowing what he referred to, I promptly demanded an explanation, when
he took from his pocket a neat little letter apparently written by me
and signed 'Frances,' requesting him to call at 5:30 that day, as I
wanted to see him particularly.  Did you ever hear the like of that?

"Well, to make matters still more embarrassing, presently in walks
Richard with another letter written in a scrawling anonymous hand, in
which he was advised to be home by 5:45 as he would find company.  The
next thing we heard was the money-order affair, and the next was the
telegram announcing Mr. Stone's death last night, which nearly killed
me; and who knows what will be next?"

The only appropriate words I could command, after Mrs. Stone had
finished, were: "Wonderful woman!"  I assure you I was unable to state
just then whether I referred to Mrs. Stone or Nellie Mason.  If the
strange story was true, Nellie Mason was wonderfully remarkable.  If it
was untrue, then Mrs. Richard Stone was the most remarkable character I
had ever met.  I promised to call again in a day or so, and hastily
withdrew to strengthen or unravel the nicely-woven fabric Mrs. Stone
had offered.

Richard Stone had acted so much in sympathy with his beautiful wife,
that I began to think if she was wrong, Richard could not be right
himself; so I determined to know more about him.  I called upon the
chief officer of the company where he was employed, and confidentially
asked him what he knew about Stone.

He told me that Stone came from England with the best kind of written
recommendations from several of the oldest established business houses
in London and Norwich; and further, that he had been warmly recommended
by the Young Men's Association, in New York to which he had been
splendidly introduced, and in whom the officers of the association
still retained a deep interest.  He was a first-rate business man, and
he thought there could be no more question about his character than
there was about his own.

I told him there were some decidedly singular features about my case;
but, of course, they could possibly all be cleared up without leaving a
blemish on Stone's character.  I thought, under all the circumstances,
it would be best to have a frank talk about the matter, and if he still
thought Stone was honest and honorable we would say no more about it.

He was so impressed with the story that he said they could not afford
to retain him, valuable as he was, if there was a probability that he
was not what he should be.  But to be sure that they were making no
mistake, they would commence the investigation in England, and at once.
That day a cablegram was forwarded to an agent in London, who was given
full instructions what to do and how to send his report.

Having disposed of Mr. Stone for a brief period I devoted a day or two
to investigating Mrs. Stone and Nellie Mason, and I know the result
will be read with interest.  There was no record at Peekskill that
showed that either of the ladies ever resided there.  There was no
record in Lewiston of Nellie Mason's father or Nellie Mason.  She had
never lived at Mrs. Gilbert's in East Thirteenth Street, but Miss
Frances West had, and, by the loquacious landlady, who knew about all
there was in this world worth knowing, and who had not kept a boarding
house all these years for nothing, I was advised to investigate Miss
West very sharply indeed.  When I asked Mrs. Gilbert if she had not
heard of Miss West's marriage, she said: "Tut, tut, I do not believe
one word of it."

I was not long in determining beyond a doubt that Mrs. Stone sent the
telegram to herself, announcing her husband's death.  She had
ingeniously sent it to her own number in West Twenty-seventh Street,
knowing that the messenger, when he found no such person on the west
side, would surely cross to East Twenty-seventh, and would not reach
the last number till after she had arrived home.  While I was looking
up the telegram I heard that a detective was looking up a Miss Nellie
Mason from Peekskill, who, it was supposed, had purloined a beautiful
stem-winding, full jeweled Elgin, No. 10,427 from a gentleman from
Boston, who had been spending a short vacation in New York.  It is
needless to add that there was no such person as Nellie Mason, and that
the money-order was not repaid.

When the first returns were in from London it was quite evident that
Mr. Stone had been elected by an unusually large majority.  The highly
perfumed letters of recommendation that he brought over with him were
all false, the supposed writers never having heard of such a person.
He had been compelled to leave England because of a few slight slips of
the pen, which, at this time, it is not worth while to mention and that
at Lowestoft, where his parents resided, he was looked upon as a "very
slippery gentleman," whose true name was not Stone, but Hartley.

Not long afterward, and quite recently, Stone attempted by
misrepresentations to procure a large amount of money from certain Wall
Street brokers, which would enable him, he said, "to return to England
and live in splendor."  But the scheme failed after he had procured a
few hundred dollars, and, instead of being permitted to enjoy the
magnificence of the old world, he suddenly found himself enjoying the
splendors of one of the oldest prisons in New York.





[Transcriber's note: the publisher's five-page catalog follows.]










End of Project Gutenberg's Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast, by Louis Arundel