The Motor Boys on the Pacific

or
The Young Derelict Hunters

by Clarence Young


Contents

 PREFACE
 CHAPTER I. SOME BAD NEWS
 CHAPTER II. A DESPERATE RACE
 CHAPTER III. NEWS FROM THE WEST
 CHAPTER IV. MORE LETTERS
 CHAPTER V. PROFESSOR URIAH SNODGRASS
 CHAPTER VI. A STRANGE CONVERSATION
 CHAPTER VII. A BAD BREAK
 CHAPTER VIII. HEMMED IN
 CHAPTER IX. A LUCKY ESCAPE
 CHAPTER X. AT THE SEABURYS’
 CHAPTER XI. AFTER HORNED TOADS
 CHAPTER XII. A STRANGE MEETING
 CHAPTER XIII. A QUEER STORY
 CHAPTER XIV. IN A MOTOR BOAT
 CHAPTER XV. CAUGHT IN THE FOG
 CHAPTER XVI. ON THE ROCKS
 CHAPTER XVII. NEWS OF THE BRIG
 CHAPTER XVIII. WHAT MR. BLOWITZ WANTED
 CHAPTER XIX. A CRY FOR HELP
 CHAPTER XX. BLOWITZ IS ANGRY
 CHAPTER XXI. THE MAN ON THE ROCKS
 CHAPTER XXII. DE VERE’S STORY
 CHAPTER XXIII. OFF ON A CRUISE
 CHAPTER XXIV. HUNTING THE DERELICT
 CHAPTER XXV. IN A BAD STORM
 CHAPTER XXVI. RIVAL SEARCHERS
 CHAPTER XXVII. THE DERELICT
 CHAPTER XXVIII. A MYSTERIOUS INFLUENCE
 CHAPTER XXIX. A COMMAND TO LAY TO
 CHAPTER XXX. THE END OF BLOWITZ—CONCLUSION




PREFACE

DEAR BOYS:

I believe it is not necessary to introduce the Motor Boys to most of my
readers, as they have made their acquaintance in the previous books of
this series. To those, however, who take up this volume without having
previously read the ones that go before, I take pleasure in presenting
my friends, Jerry, Ned and Bob.

They are booked for quite a long trip, this time; across the continent
to the Pacific coast, where they are destined to have some stirring
adventures, searching for a mysterious derelict.

Those of you who know the Motor Boys from their past performances know
that they will meet emergencies in the right spirit, and that they will
do their level best to accomplish what they set out to do. Whether they
did so in this case I leave it for you to determine by reading the
book.

Though their own motor boat, the _Dartaway_, was destroyed in a train
wreck, they managed to get the use of a powerful craft, in which they
made a cruise on the Pacific ocean. Their old friend, Professor
Snodgrass was with them, and, if you care to learn of his search for a
horned toad, you will find the details set down here.

Yours very truly,

CLARENCE YOUNG.




CHAPTER I.
SOME BAD NEWS


“Well, she is smashed this time, sure!” exclaimed Jerry Hopkins, to his
chums, Ned Slade and Bob Baker.

“What’s smashed?” asked Ned. “Who’s the letter from?” for Jerry had a
slip of paper in his hand.

“It isn’t a letter. It’s a telegram.”

“A telegram!” exclaimed Bob. “What’s up, Jerry?”

“She’s smashed, I tell you. Busted, wrecked, demolished, destroyed,
slivered to pieces, all gone!”

“Who?”

“Our motor boat, the _Dartaway!”_

“Not the _Dartaway!”_ and Ned and Bob crowded closer to Jerry.

“That’s what she is. There’s no mistake about it this time, I’m afraid.
You know we thought once before she had gone to flinders, but it wasn’t
so. This time it is.”

“How did it happen?” asked Ned.

“Yes, tell us, can’t you?” cried Bob. “What are you so slow about?”

“Say, Chunky,” remarked Jerry, looking at his fat chum, “if you’ll give
me a chance I’ll tell you all I know. I just got this telegram from the
Florida Coast Railway Company. It says:

“Jerry Hopkins. Motor boat _Dartaway_, shipped by you from. St.
Augustine in freight wreck just outside Jacksonville. Boat total loss,
buried under several freight cars. Will write further particulars. J.
H. Maxon, General Freight Agent.”


“That’s all there is to it,” added Jerry, folding up the telegram.

“All there is to it! I guess not much!” exclaimed Bob. “Aren’t you
going to sue ’em for damages, Jerry?”

“Well, there’s no use being in such a rush,” observed Jerry. “Maybe
they’ll pay the claim without a suit. I’ll have to make some
inquiries.”

“Let’s go down to the freight once here and see Mr. Hitter,” suggested
Ned. “He can tell us what to do. The poor _Dartaway! _ Smashed!”

“And in a land wreck, too!” put in Jerry. “It wouldn’t be so bad if she
had gone down on the Atlantic, chasing after a whale, or in pursuit of
a shark—”

“Or with the flag flying, out in a storm, with Salt Water Sam,”
interrupted Ned. “But to think of her being buried under a lot of
freight cars! It’s tough, that’s what it is!”

“That’s right,” agreed Bob. “Just think of it! No more rides in her!
Say, we ought to get heavy damages! She was a fine boat!”

“Come on then,” cried Ned. “Don’t let’s stand here chinning all day.
Let’s go see Mr. Hitter. He has charge of all the freight that comes to
Cresville, and he can tell us how to proceed to collect damages.”

“Yes, I guess that’s all that’s left for us to do,” decided Jerry, and
the three lads started for the railroad depot.

They lived in the town of Cresville, Mass., a thriving community, and
had been chums and inseparable companions ever since they could
remember. Bob Baker was the son of a wealthy banker, while Jerry
Hopkins’s mother was a widow, who had been left considerable property,
and Ned Slade’s father owned a large department store.

You boys who have read the previous volumes of this “Motor Boys Series”
do not need to be reminded of the adventures the three chums had
together. To those of you who read this book first, I will say that, in
the first volume, called “The Motor Boys,” there was related a series
of happenings that followed the winning of a certain bicycle race in
Cresville. After their victory in this contest the boys got
motorcycles, and, by winning a race on them, won a touring car.

In this automobile they had many adventures, and several narrow
escapes. They incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town bully, and his
crony, Bill Berry. The three chums then took a long trip overland in
their automobile, as related in the second book of this series and,
incidentally, managed to locate a rich mine belonging to a prospector,
who, to reward them, gave them a number of shares. While out west the
boys met a very learned gentleman, Professor Uriah Snodgrass, who was
traveling in the interests of science. He persuaded the boys to go with
him in their automobile to search for a certain ancient, buried city,
and this they found in Mexico, where they had a number of surprising
adventures.

Returning from that journey, they made a trip across the plains, on
which they discovered the hermit of Lost Lake. Arriving home they
decided, some time later, to get a motor boat, and, in the fifth volume
of the series, entitled, “The Motor Boys Afloat,” there was set down
what happened to them on their first cruise on the river, during which
they solved a robbery mystery. Finding they were well able to manage
the boat they took a trip on the Atlantic ocean, and, after weathering
some heavy storms they reached home, only to start out again on a
longer voyage, this time to strange waters amid the everglades of
Florida.

They had recently returned from that queer region, and, as they had
done on their journey to that locality, they shipped their boat by rail
from St. Augustine to Cresville. Or, rather, they saw it safely boxed
at the freight station in St. Augustine, and came on up north, trusting
that the _Dartaway_ would arrive in due season, and in good condition.

They had been home a week now, and as there was no news of their boat,
Jerry had become rather anxious and had written to the railroad
officials in St. Augustine. In response he got the telegram which
brought consternation to the hearts of the motor boys.

“It doesn’t seem possible,” remarked Bob, as the three lads hurried on
toward the freight office.

“I guess it’s good-bye to the _Dartaway_ this trip,” said Jerry. “Too
bad! she was a fine boat.”

“Well, we’ll make the railroad pay for it, and we’ll get a better
boat,” spoke up Bob.

“We couldn’t get any better boat than the _Dartaway_, Chunky,” said
Ned. “We might get a larger one, and a more powerful one, but never a
better one, She served us well. To think of her being crushed under a
lot of freight cars! It makes me mad!”

“No use feeling that way,” suggested Jerry. “Just think of the good
times we had in her, not only on this last trip, but on the previous
cruises.”

“This last was the best,” remarked Bob, with something like a sigh. “It
was lovely down there in Florida.”

“I guess he’s thinking of the Seabury girls,” put in Ned, with a wink
at Jerry.

“No more than you are!” exclaimed Bob. “I guess you were rather sweet
on Olivia, yourself.”

“Or was it Rose or Nellie?” asked Jerry with a laugh. “They were all
three nice—very nice.”

“That’s right,” said Ned, fervently.

The three young ladies the boys referred to were daughters of a Mr.
Nathan Seabury, whom the boys met while cruising about the everglades
and adjacent rivers and lakes. He was in his houseboat _Wanderer, _
traveling for his health. Mr. Seabury owned a large hotel in Florida
and his meeting with the boys, especially with Jerry, was a source of
profit to Mrs. Hopkins.

She owned some land in Florida; but did not consider it of any value.
It developed that it adjoined Mr. Seabury’s hotel property and, as he
wished it to enlarge his building, he purchased the lot for a goodly
sum.

The three boys, after the return of the _Dartaway_ and _Wanderer_ from
the strange waters, had stopped for a week at Mr. Seabury’s hotel,
before journeying north.

“I’d like to see them again,” said Bob, after a pause, during which the
boys turned into the street leading to the depot.

“Who?” asked Ned.

“The Seabury family.”

“Mr. Seabury—or—er—the girls?” asked Jerry.

“All of ’em,” replied Bob quickly.

“I had a letter the other day,” remarked Jerry quietly.

“You did!” exclaimed Ned.

“From them?” asked Bob eagerly.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a family letter,” answered Jerry, with just
the suspicion of a blush. “It was from Nellie, and she said she, her
sisters and father were going to lower California.”

“To California?” exclaimed Bob and Ned.

“Yes; for Mr. Seabury’s health. You know they said they expected to
when we parted from them. The climate of Florida did not do him any
good, and they are going to try what California will do. She asked us
to call and see them, if we were ever in that neighborhood.”

“I guess our chances of going to California are pretty slim,” remarked
Bob. “Our motor boat’s gone now, and we can’t make any more cruises.”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with it,” declared Ned. “We couldn’t
very well cross the continent in her, even if we had the _Dartaway_,
and she was rather too small to make the trip by water, even if the
Panama Canal was finished.”

“Oh, well, you know what I mean,” retorted Bob, who did not exactly
know himself. “We can’t go anywhere right away. School opens soon, and
it’s buckle down and study all winter I suppose. But—”

Bob’s remarks were interrupted by the arrival of the Boston Express,
which rumbled into the Cresville station, where the boys now were and,
after a momentary stop, steamed on again. A man leaped from the steps
of a parlor car and ran into the freight office, first, however,
looking up and down the length of the train to see if any other
passengers got off.

“He seems in a hurry,” observed Ned.

“Yes, and he must have some pull with the railroad, for the Boston
Express never stops here,” said Jerry. “Maybe he’s the president of the
road.”

The boys kept on to the freight office. When they reached it they found
the stranger in conversation with Mr. Hitter, the agent. The chums
could not help overhearing the talk.

“Have you several packages here, addressed to X. Y. Z., to be held
until called for?” the stranger asked.

“There they be,” replied the agent, pointing to several small boxes,
piled near the door.

“That’s good,” and the man seemed much relieved. “Now I want them
shipped by fast freight to San Francisco, and I want to prepay them so
there will be no delay. How much is it?” and he pulled out a
pocketbook, disclosing a roll of bills. As he did so he hurried to the
door and looked up and down the depot platform, as if afraid of being
observed. He saw the three boys, and, for a moment, seemed as if he was
about to hurry away. Then, with an obvious effort, he remained, but
turned into the freight office and shut the door.

“He acts as if he was afraid we would steal something from him,” said
Bob.

“Or as if he didn’t want us to hear any more about those boxes,”
supplemented Jerry. “He’s a queer customer, he is.”

“Well, it’s none of our affair,” remarked Ned, but neither he nor his
chums realized how, a little later, they were to take part in an
adventure in which the mysterious man and the queer boxes were to
figure importantly.

In a short time the man came out of the freight office. He did not look
at the boys, but hurried off down the street, putting some papers into
his pocket book, which, the boys could not help noticing as he passed
them, was not so full of money as it had been.

“Let’s go in and ask Mr. Hitter what to do about our boat,” suggested
Ned.

They found the agent counting over a roll of bills.

“Been robbing a bank?” asked Bob cheerfully. “Guess I’d better tell dad
to look out for his money.”

“That was paid by the man who was just in in here,” replied the agent.
“Queer chap. Seemed as if he didn’t want to be found out. First he was
going to ship his stuff by fast freight, and then he concluded it would
be better by express, though it cost a lot more. But he had plenty of
money.”

“Who was he?” asked Jerry.

“That’s another funny part of it. He didn’t tell me his name, though I
hinted I’d have to have it to give him a receipt. He said to make it
out X. Y. Z., and I done it. That’s the way them boxes come, several
days ago, from Boston. They arrived by express, consigned to X. Y. Z.,
and was to be called for. I thought of everybody in town, but there
ain’t nobody with them initials. I was just wondering what to do with
’em when in he comes an’ claims ’em.”

“What’s in ’em?” asked Jerry.

“Blessed if I know,” responded Mr. Hitter. “I couldn’t git that out of
him, either, though I hinted that I ought to know if it was dynamite,
or anything dangerous.”

“What did he say?” inquired Ned.

“He said it wasn’t dynamite, but that’s all he would say, an’ I didn’t
have no right to open ’em. He paid me the expressage, and seemed quite
anxious to know just when I could ship the boxes, and when they’d
arrive in San Francisco. I could tell him the first, but not the last,
for there’s no tellin’ what delays there’ll be on the road.

“He was a queer man—a very queer man. I couldn’t make him out. An’ he
went off in a hurry, as if he was afraid some one would see him. An’ he
shut the door, jest as if you boys would bother him,—Well, it takes all
sorts of people to make a world. I don’t s’pose you or I will ever meet
him again.”

Mr. Hitter was not destined to, but the boys had not seen the last of
the strangely acting man, who soon afterward played a strange part in
their lives.

“What you chaps after, anyhow?” went on the freight agent, when he had
put the money in the safe.

“Our motor boat’s smashed!” exclaimed Bob. “We want damages for her!
How are we going to get ’em?”

“Not guilty, boys!” exclaimed the agent holding up his hands, as if he
thought wild-west robbers were confronting him. “You can search me.
Nary a boat have I got, an’ you can turn my pockets inside out!” and he
turned slowly around, like an exhibition figure in a store show window.




CHAPTER II.
A DESPERATE RACE


“Well,” remarked Mr. Hitter, after a pause, during which the boys,
rather surprised at his conduct, stood staring at him, “well, why don’t
you look in my hip pocket. Maybe I’ve got a boat concealed there.”

“I didn’t mean to go at you with such a rush,” apologized Jerry. “But
you see—”

“That’s all right,” interrupted the freight agent. “Can I put my hands
down now? The blood’s all runnin’ out of ’em, an’ they feel as if they
was goin’ to sleep. That’ll never do, as I’ve got a lot of way-bills to
make out,” and he lowered his arms.

“Do you know anything about this?” asked Jerry, handing Mr. Hitter the
telegram.

“What’s that? The _Dartaway_ smashed!” the agent exclaimed, reading the
message. “Come now, that’s too bad! How did it happen?”

The boys explained how they had shipped the craft north.

“Of course the accident didn’t happen on the line of railroad I am
agent for,” said Mr. Hitter, after reading the telegram again. “If it
had, we’d be responsible.”

“What can we do?” asked Bob. “We want to get damages.”

“An’ I guess you’re entitled to ’em,” replied the agent. “Come on
inside, and I’ll tell you what to do. You’ll have to make a claim,
submit affidavits, go before a notary public and a whole lot of
rig-ma-role, but I guess, in the end you’ll get damages. They can’t
blame you because the boat was smashed. It’s too bad! I feel like I’d
lost an old friend.”

Mr. Hitter had had several rides in the _Dartaway_ for he had done the
boys many favors and they wished to return them, so he was given a
chance to get intimately acquainted with the speedy craft.

Taking the boys into his office, Mr. Hitter instructed them how to
write a letter to the claim department of the Florida Coast Railway,
demanding damages for the smashing of the boat.

“Be respectful, but put it good and strong,” he said. “I’ll write on my
own account to the general freight agent. He’s a friend of mine, and we
have business dealings together—that is his road and my road,” and Mr.
Hitter spoke as though he owned the line of which he was the Cresville
agent.

“That’ll be good,” said Bob. “Maybe it will hurry matters up. We’re
much obliged to you, Mr. Hitter.”

“That’s what we are,” chimed in Jerry and Ned.

The boys lost no time in sending in their claim. Then there was nothing
to do but to wait. They knew it would take some days, and they did not
expect an answer in less than a week, while Mr. Hitter told them that
if they got money in payment for the destroyed boat within three months
they would be lucky.

“Well, since the _Dartaway’s_ gone, I guess we’ll have to go back to
the automobile for a change,” suggested Jerry one afternoon, early in
September, about a week before school was to open. “Let’s take a little
jaunt out in the country, stay a couple of days, and come back, all
ready to pitch in and study.”

“Fine!” cried Bob. “We’ll stay at a hotel where they have good
dinners—”

“Of course!” retorted Ned. “That’s Chunky’s first idea—something to
eat. I’ve been waiting for him to say something like that.”

The boys were at Jerry’s house, talking over various matters. The auto
was kept in an unused barn back of his home, but, since the advent of
the motor boat, had not seen much service, though occasionally the boys
went out in it. Now, it was likely to come into active use again.

“Let’s look the machine over,” proposed Jerry. “It may need some
repairs. It got pretty hard usage, especially in our trips to Mexico
and across the plains.”

The boys soon found that, beyond two tires which needed repairs, and
some minor adjustments to the engine, the car was in good shape. It was
in running order and, at Bob’s suggestion, they got in it and made a
trip to the town garage, where they intended to leave it to be
overhauled.

As they were turning a corner, near the automobile shop, they heard a
sudden “Honk-honk!” that startled them. Jerry, who was at the steering
wheel, shut off the power and applied the emergency brake.

And it was only just in time for, a moment later, from a cross street,
there shot out a big green touring car, very powerful, as they could
tell by the throbbing of the engine. It almost grazed the mudguards of
the machine in which the three boys were, and, skidded dangerously.
Then, with what seemed an impudent, warning toot of the horn, it swung
around and sped off down the road.

“That was a close shave!” remarked Jerry, as he released the brake.

“I should say yes,” agreed Bob. “That was a six-cylinder car.
Bur-r-r-r! If she’d hit us—” He did not finish, but the boys knew what
he meant.

They proceeded to the garage, leaving their machine to be repaired. It
would be ready for them the next day, the man said, and they arranged
to call for it, and go for a trip in the country.

“Let’s go to Riverton,” suggested Bob, naming a summer resort about a
hundred miles away. “The season is just about to close there, and, as
it isn’t crowded, we can get better attention and—”

“Better meals, he means,” finished Ned. “All right, Chunky, we’ll go.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea,” agreed Jerry. “We could make it in one day
easily, and wouldn’t have to hurry. We could stay there a couple of
days, making little side strips, and come back Saturday. That would put
us in good shape for Monday, when school opens.”

There was no dissension from this plan, and, having secured the consent
of their parents, the boys, early the next day, started off on their
journey. It was a short one, compared to those they had been in the
habit of taking, but they did not have time for a longer jaunt.

They arrived at Riverton in the afternoon, having stopped on the road
for dinner. They found the place rather livelier than they expected,
for there had been an automobile meet the day previous, including a big
race, and several lovers of the sport still remained, for the weather
was very pleasant. The sheds about the hotel were filled with all sorts
of cars, so that the boys had hardly room to store their machine.

“This is a little more exciting than we counted on,” remarked Jerry, as
he and his chums entered the hotel to register. “I’m afraid we’ll not
get such good attention as Bob thought.”

“Oh, it’s all the better,” was the answer of the stout youth. “They’ll
have all the more to eat, with this crowd here.”

“Chunky can argue it any way he likes,” declared Ned. “No use trying to
corner him, Jerry.”

“No, I guess not. But I’m hungry enough to eat almost anything.”

As they were turning away from the clerk’s desk, having been assigned
to rooms, the boys saw a youth, about their own age, standing near a
bulletin board fastened on the side wall. The youth was tacking up a
notice and, as he turned, having finished, Jerry exclaimed in a
whisper:

“Noddy Nixon! What’s he doing here?”

At the same moment, Noddy, the long-time enemy of the motor boys, saw
them. His face got red, and he swung quickly aside to avoid speaking to
the three chums.

The last they had seen of the bully was when he started to accompany
them back to Cresville, after his disastrous attempt to make money from
a Florida cocoanut grove. Noddy was wanted as a witness by the
government authorities, in connection with the attempted wreck of a
vessel, in which Bill Berry was concerned; but, after the motor boys
had rescued Noddy from an unpleasant position in Florida, and he had
agreed to return to Cresville, he suddenly disappeared in the night.
This was the first they had seen of him since. They had learned that
the government no longer desired his testimony.

“Let’s see what notice he put up,” suggested Ned. “Maybe he has lost
something.”

They walked over to the bulletin board. There, in Noddy’s rather poor
handwriting, was a challenge. It was to the effect that he would race,
on the track near the hotel, any automobilist who would choose to
compete with him, for money, up to five hundred dollars, or merely for
fun.

“Noddy must have a new car,” remarked Ned. “His old one couldn’t go for
a cent. We beat it several times.”

“What’s the matter with trying again?” asked Jerry, a light of
excitement coming into his eyes. “I’d like to have a race. Maybe
several cars will enter, and we can have some fun out of it. Our
machine has a lot of ‘go’ left in it yet.”

“That’s the stuff!” exclaimed Bob. “I’m with you. But let’s get supper
first, maybe—”

“I guess he’s afraid there won’t be any left,” remarked Jerry. “But
come on, I can eat a bit myself.”

As the boys left the office of the hotel, they saw several men reading
the notice Noddy had tacked up.

“A race on this circular track here!” exclaimed one man to a friend as
the boys passed him. “It’s very risky! The turns are not banked enough.
I wouldn’t do it, but I suppose some will take the chance.”

“Yes, it will be a dangerous race,” responded the other. “Who is this
Noddy Nixon?”

“A son of that rich Nixon over in Cresville, I believe. His father made
a lot of money in stocks lately, and, I guess the son is helping spend
it. He has a powerful car.”

The motor boys did not stay to hear more, but went to their rooms to
change their clothes, and were soon eating supper. There was talk of
nothing but automobile topics in the hotel corridors and office that
evening. Many motorists were planning to leave the next day, but some
said they would stay and see if the Nixon race would amount to
anything.

“Let’s accept the challenge,” suggested Jerry.

“I don’t want to have anything to do with Noddy,” objected Ned.

“We don’t have to,” replied Bob, “I was talking to the clerk about it.
All we have to do is register our names, and the name of the car. It’s
an informal affair, only for fun. They won’t race for money. Come on,
let’s go in it.”

Hearing this, Ned agreed, and the boys put their names down. As Noddy
had stipulated there must be four passengers in each car it would
necessitate the motor boys getting some one else to ride with them.
This the clerk agreed to arrange.

There were six entries in the race, which was to take place the next
day. Early in the morning, before breakfast, Ned, Jerry and Bob went
out in their car to try the course. When they were half way around it
they heard a car coming behind them. In a moment it had passed them,
and they recognized it as the same machine that had nearly collided
with them in Cresville.

“Look who’s in it!” cried Bob.

“Who?” asked Ned.

“Noddy Nixon. If that’s his car, we haven’t any show.”

“Humph! I’m afraid not,” answered Jerry rather ruefully. “Still, I’m
not going to give up now. He’s got a new car, but maybe we can beat
him. He’s a poor driver.”

Several other autos soon appeared on the track to have a “tryout,” and,
though none of them seemed as speedy as Noddy’s new machine, there was
no talk of dropping out on the part of those who had entered. That gave
the boys more courage, and they decided to stick, even though their
chances were not good.

Noddy did not speak to them, though he passed them several times. Nor
did he appear very popular with the other autoists. He had several
young men with him, and they made things rather lively about the hotel,
occasionally giving what seemed to be college yells.

“They’re regular ‘rah-rah’ boys,” said Bob, in contempt.

Early that afternoon just before the race Bob, Jerry and Ned spent an
hour in going over their car, making some adjustments, and seeing that
the tires were in good shape. Almost at the last minute Jerry decided
to put the non-skidding chains on the rear wheels.

“Those turns, which are not banked much, are dangerous,” he said, “I’m
not going to take any chances. We don’t want to turn turtle.”

There was much activity about the hotel as the hour for the contest
arrived. Noddy’s car seemed the finest of the six that lined up at the
starting tape. The motor boys had drawn a position next to the bully
and his cronies.

Noddy glanced contemptuously at them.

“You must think it’s winter, putting chains on,” he remarked to Jerry,
who had been chosen to steer.

“It may be a cold day for somebody before we get through,” was all
Jerry replied.

“You haven’t the ghost of a show,” called one of Noddy’s companions.
“You’ll think you’re standing still when we start.”

The others laughed at this joke, and Noddy seemed pleased. There was a
short consultation among the judges and other officials, and, a moment
later, a white puff of smoke was seen hovering above the uplifted
revolver of the starter. Then came a sharp crack, and the panting
machines, the engines of which had been put in motion some time
previous, started off together, as the drivers threw in the high speed
gears.

The race, which was truly a dangerous contest, was on, and, with eager
eyes the motor boys looked ahead on the course.




CHAPTER III.
NEWS FROM THE WEST


The track was a half-mile one, and, as the length of the race was five
miles it would be necessary to make ten laps or circuits. The course
was in the shape of an ellipse, with rather sharp turns at either end,
where the contestants, if they did not want a spill, or a bad skid,
must slacken their pace. It was on the two straight stretches that
speed could be made.

At the report of the pistol Noddy’s car shot off as an arrow from a
bow, the explosions of the cylinders sounding like a small battery of
quick-firing guns in action. But the others were after him, the five
cars bunched together, that of the motor boys a little behind the other
four.

“We’ve got to catch him, Jerry,” whispered Bob.

“Easier said than done,” replied Jerry, as he shoved the gasolene lever
over a trifle, and advanced the spark, thereby increasing the speed of
the car. “Noddy’s got a powerful machine.”

“They should have had a handicap on this race,” said Tom Jennings, the
young man whom the hotel clerk had asked to be a fourth passenger in
the motor boys’ car, so that the conditions of the contest would be
met. “It’s not fair to have a high power auto race one of two
cylinders.”

“Ours has four,” spoke Ned. “Of course its not as up-to-date as Noddy’s
is, but—”

“We’ll beat him!” exclaimed Bob. “We’ve done it before and we can do it
again.”

“I’m afraid not,” went on Tom. “That big green car of his will go ahead
of anything on this track.”

And so it seemed, for Noddy was spinning around the course at fearful
speed, his car looking like a green streak.

“Let’s see how he takes the turn,” suggested Bob. “He’ll have to slow
up if he doesn’t want a spill.”

Noddy was wise enough to do this, though even at the reduced speed at
which he went around the bank, his rear wheels skidded rather
alarmingly.

But Jerry was not idle during this time. As he found his car responding
to the increase of gasolene and the advanced spark, he shoved the
levers still further over. The auto shot forward, distancing the yellow
car immediately in front of it, passing one with an aluminum body and
closely approaching a purple auto which was behind Noddy.

Suddenly a loud explosion sounded back of the motor boys.

“There goes a tire!” exclaimed Bob.

“Hope it isn’t one of yours,” said Tom.

“If it was you’d be sliding along the track on your face instead of
sitting here,” responded Bob. “No, it’s one on the aluminum car. She’s
out of the race,” he added as he gave a quick glance back. A few
minutes later there was another noise—a crashing sound—and the motor
boys, by a quick glance, saw that the rearmost car in the race had, by
injudicious steering, been sent through a frail fence which surrounded
the track. The radiator was broken and, though no one was hurt the car
was put out of business. That left but four cars—Noddy’s green one, the
yellow, the red one of the motor boys’, and a purple affair. They were
speeding along in that order, and, a few seconds later something went
wrong with one of the cylinders of the purple machine, leaving but
three contestants. Then the yellow car shot ahead of the red one
containing the motor boys.

By this time one circuit of the track had been completed, and a start
made on the second lap.

“Think we’re catching up?” asked Bob, as Jerry cautiously fed the
engine a little more gasolene.

“Well, we’re holding our own,” was the answer of the steersman, “and I
think we’re catching up to the yellow car again. If we pass that I’m
not so sure but what we can come in a close second to Noddy.”

“I don’t want to come in second,” spoke up Ned. “I want to beat him.”

“So do I,” replied Jerry, “but it’s not going to be so easy. Our car’s
doing well, but we can’t expect wonders of it.”

“The race isn’t over until you’re at the finish tape,” said Tom
Jennings. “Keep on, boys, I’d like to see that Nixon chap beaten. He
thinks he owns the earth.”

For two miles there was no change in the position of the cars. Then
slowly, very slowly, Jerry saw that his red machine was overtaking the
yellow car. Inch by inch it crept up, the steersman of the rival car
doing his best but failing to get more speed out of the engine.

“Too bad we have to pass you!” cried Jerry, as he careened past the
yellow machine.

“That’s all right,” sung out the steersman good-naturedly. “Beat that
other one, if you can.”

“We’re going to try!” yelled Ned, above the noise of the exploding
cylinders.

They were on a straight stretch then and, as Noddy looked back and saw
the red car closer to him than it had been before, he put on more
speed. His green auto shot forward but Jerry still had something in
reserve, and he let his machine out another notch.

“He’s got to slow up for the turn!” cried Ned. “Maybe we can pass him!”

“Yes, but we’ve got to slacken up too, if we don’t want a spill,”
replied Bob.

“That’s so,” admitted Ned.

Noddy did slow up, but not much, and his car skidded worse than at any
time yet. It looked as if it was going over, and a cry from the
spectators showed that they, too, anticipated this disaster. But, with
a sharp wrench of the steering wheel, Noddy brought the car back toward
the center of the track.

Jerry swung around the turn at reduced speed, and, because of the
chains, his machine did not skid more than a few inches.

“Good thing you have those chains on,” commented Tom. “They may come in
handy at the finish.”

“That’s what I put them there for,” answered Jerry.

For another mile there was little change in the relative position of
the cars of Noddy and the motor boys. Jerry thought he had cut the
bully’s lead somewhat, but he still felt that he was far from having a
good chance to win the race. Still, he was not going to give up.

“Two laps more and it’s all over,” said Bob, as they began on the final
mile. “Can’t you hit it up a bit more, Jerry?”

“I’ll try.”

Just a degree faster came the explosions of the cylinders of the red
car. But also, still faster, came the reports from Noddy’s auto. He was
not going to be beaten if he could help it.

Around the two machines swung, the yellow car having given up and
dropped out. There was a confused shouting from the spectators, and Bob
could distinguish cheers for the red auto.

“We’ve just got to win!” he cried. “Win, Jerry! Win!”

Try as he did, by “nursing” the engine, Jerry could not gain an inch on
Noddy’s car. The red machine was fifty feet behind the green one, both
going at top speed. Only an accident, it seemed, could make the motor
boys win.

As they swung into the last lap Ned cried:

“Noddy isn’t going to slow down for the turn!”

“Neither are we!” cried Jerry fiercely. “Quick boys! All of you get out
on the inside step! Crouch down! That will help hold us as we go around
the bank, or, otherwise, we’ll go over.”

They all knew what he meant. By hanging out on the runboard or step,
nearest the inside of the track, more weight would be added to that
side of the car. It was what automobilists call “shifting the center of
gravity,” and aids in preventing spills.

Giving one glance to see that the boys were in their places, Jerry
grasped the steering wheel firmly, and sent the car at the dangerous
turn at full speed. Noddy was doing the same, but he had not thought of
having any of his passengers hang out on the step.

“Look out now, boys!” called Jerry, as they took the turn.

“Swing out as far as you can, boys, but hang down low!” called Tom
Jennings, who had been in races before.

Even with this precaution, and aided as they were by the chains on the
rear wheels, the red car skidded or slewed so that Jerry thought it was
going over. But it did not. By the narrowest margin it kept on the
bank.

Not so, however, with Noddy’s green dragon. As soon as his car struck
the turn it began to skid. He would not shut off his power, but kept on
the high gear, and with the engine going at top speed.

There was a cry of alarm, and then the green car left the track,
mounted the bank, slid over the top, and came to a halt in a pool of
mud and water on the other side of the field. It went fifty yards
before Noddy could stop it.

“Go on! Go on!” yelled Ned. “We win! We win!”

Jerry had all he could do to hold the steering wheel of his slewing
car, but, by gripping it desperately, he swung it into place, and the
red machine started up the home stretch, crossing the tape a winner,
for it was the only car left on the track.

A burst of cheers greeted it, and men crowded up to shake hands with
the plucky boys.

“Glad you beat the ‘mud lark,’” said the owner of the yellow machine,
thus giving Noddy’s car a name that stuck to it for some time. “That
Nixon chap thought he was going to walk over every one. You taught him
a much-needed lesson.”

Nothing was talked of in the hotel that night but the race, and the
motor boys were the heroes of the occasion. Noddy did not appear, and
it was learned that he had to hire men and teams to get his car out of
the mud.

The motor boys started for home the next day, and thought they were
going to make it in good time, but they had a tire accident on the
road, when about twenty-five miles away, and decided to stay in the
nearest village over night, as they had no spare shoe for the wheel.

As they left their car by the roadside, and tramped into the town, to
send word to the nearest garage, they saw a cloud of dust approaching.

“Here comes a car,” said Bob. “Maybe we can get help.”

As the machine drew nearer they saw that it was painted green, and, a
moment later, Noddy Nixon had brought his auto to a stop, and was
grinning at them.

“Had a break-down, eh?” he asked. “That’s a fine car you have, ain’t
it?”

“We can beat you!” exclaimed Ned.

“Yes you can! Not in a thousand years if I hadn’t gone off the track!
Want any help? Well, you’ll not get it, see? Bye-bye! I’ll tell ’em
you’re coming,” and, with an ugly leer, the bully started off.

“I wouldn’t take help from him if I had to walk ten miles without my
supper,” said Bob firmly, and that was a strong saying for the stout
youth.

The motor boys found a good hotel in the village, and the next day,
when their car had been repaired, they resumed their journey, arriving
at home about noon.

“There’s some mail for you, Jerry,” said Mrs. Hopkins, as her son came
in, after putting the auto in the barn. “It’s from California. I didn’t
know you knew any one out there.”

“Neither did I, mother. We’ll see who it’s from.”

He tore open the letter, read it hurriedly, and gave a cry of mingled
delight and surprise.

“It’s from Nellie Seabury!” he said. “She says they are in lower
California, traveling about, looking for a good place to stay at for a
few months for their father’s health. When they locate she wants—that
is Mr. Seabury—wants us to come out and see them. Oh, I wish I could
go—I wish we could all go!”

“Perhaps you can,” suggested his mother with a smile. “California is
not so far away. But I suppose you’ll have to wait until next
vacation.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” admitted Jerry. “And that’s a long ways off—a long
ways.”

“The time will soon pass,” said his mother. “But tell me about your
auto trip. Did you have a good time?”

“Fine, and we beat Noddy Nixon in a great race.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have anything to do with that young man,” said
Mrs. Hopkins. “You have nothing but trouble when you do.”

“I guess he’ll not want much more to do with us,” returned Jerry. “We
manage to beat him every time. But I must go find the boys. This will
be great news for them—this letter from the Seabury family.”

“I thought it was from—Nelly.”

“So it is—but it’s all the same,” answered Jerry with a blush.




CHAPTER IV.
MORE LETTERS


Jerry found Ned, his nearest chum, at home, and told him of the news
from the west.

“That’s fine!” cried Ned. “Come on and tell Bob.”

“Don’t have to,” said Jerry. “Here he comes now.”

The stout youth was, at that moment, walking along the street toward
Ned’s house.

“Come on in!” cried Ned, as he opened the door while his chum was still
on the steps.

“That’s what I was going to do,” responded Chunky. “Did you think I was
going to sit out here? Of course I’m coming in. What’s the matter?” for
he saw by Ned’s face that something unusual had occurred.

“Jerry’s got a letter from Nellie Seabury—they’re in lower
California—we’re going—I mean they want us to come and pay them a
visit—I mean—”

“Say, for mercy sakes stop!” cried Bob, holding both hands over his
ears.

“I guess Ned’s a little excited,” suggested Jerry.

“You guess so—well, I know so,” responded Bob. “Are you all done?” and
he cautiously removed his hands from his ears.

“Tell him about it, Jerry,” said Ned, and Jerry told the news.

“It would be fine to go out there,” said Bob, reflectively. “But
there’s school. We can’t get out of that.”

They all agreed they could not, and decided the only thing to do was to
wait until the following summer.

“Too bad,” remarked Bob with a sigh. “Winter is the best time of the
year out there, too.”

In spite of the fact that they knew, under the present circumstances,
they could not go for several months, the boys spent an hour or more
discussing what they would do if they could go to California.

“Oh, what’s the use!” exclaimed Ned, when Jerry had spoken of how fine
it would be to hire a motor boat and cruise along the Pacific coast.
“Don’t get us all worked up that way, Jerry. Have some regard for our
feelings!”

“Well, let’s talk about school. It opens Monday.”

“Don’t mention it!” cried Ned. “I say—hello, there’s the postman’s
whistle. He’s coming here.”

He went to the door, and returned carrying a letter, the envelope of
which he was closely examining.

“You can find out from who it is by opening it,” suggested Jerry.

“Here’s a funny thing,” spoke Ned. “This letter is addressed to my
father, but, down in one corner it says, ‘May be opened by Ned, in case
of necessity.’”

“Well, then, open it,” suggested Bob. “This is a case of necessity.
Where’s it from?”

“Boston, but I don’t recognize the writing.”

“Open it,” called Jerry.

Ned did so, and, as he read, he uttered a cry of astonishment.

“Well if this isn’t a queer thing,” he said. “Did you ever see such a
coincidence? This letter is from Professor Uriah Snodgrass, and listen
to what he says: ‘Dear Mr. Slade, or Ned. I write thus as I want one of
you to read it in a hurry, and one of you may be away from home. You
remember the last I saw of you and your chums (this part is for Ned)
was in Florida. There I secured the rare butterfly I was looking for,
and, through that success I was able to obtain a position with a Boston
museum, to travel all over the world for them, collecting valuable
specimens. I have been here for only a few weeks, but I already have a
commission. I am soon to start for California, in search of a Cornu
batrachian.’”

“A ‘Cornu batrachian’!” exclaimed Bob. “For the love of tripe, what’s
that?”

“California!” murmured Jerry. “I guess the fates want to pile it up on
us.”

“Say, is that ‘Cornu batrachian’ anything like a mountain lion?” asked
Bob.

“Wait,” counseled Ned. “He explains. ‘The Cornu batrachian,’ he says,
‘is what is commonly called a horned toad. I must get several fine
specimens, and I thought you boys might be making another trip, and
could go with me. I would be very glad of your company. Please let me
hear from you. My regards to Mrs. Slade.’”

“Well, wouldn’t that tickle your teeth!” exclaimed Bob, more forcibly
than elegantly. “And we can’t go!” he added with a groan.

“Think of the fun we’ll miss by not being with Professor Snodgrass,”
went on Ned.

“And with the Seabury family,” chimed in Jerry.

“It’s tough!” exclaimed Ned. “And school opens Monday!”

At that moment there was a whistle out in the street and a ring at the
door bell.

“The postman again,” said Ned. “I wonder what he wants?”

He went to the door.

“Here’s a letter I forgot to give you,” said the mailcarrier. “It got
out of place in my bundle, and I didn’t discover it until I was quite a
way up the street.”

“That’s all right,” answered Ned good-naturedly. “From the Board of
Education,” he murmured, as he looked at the printing in the upper left
hand corner. “I wonder what they are writing to me about?”

He opened it and drew out a printed circular. As he re-entered the room
where his chums were he gave a cry of delight.

“Listen to this!” he called, and he read:

“‘To the pupils of the Cresville Academy. It has been discovered, at
the last moment, that a new heating boiler will be needed in the
school. The tubes of the old one are broken. It has been decided to
replace it at once, and, as it will be necessary to do considerable
work about the building, thereby interfering with the proper conducting
of studies, the school will not open for another month, or six weeks,
depending on the length of time required to install a new boiler.
    “‘Therefore pupils will kindly not report on Monday morning, as
    originally intended, but will hold themselves in readiness to begin
    their school work shortly after the receipt of another circular,
    which will be sent out as soon as the building is in proper shape.
    The faculty earnestly recommends that all pupils apply themselves
    diligently to their studies during this unlooked-for, unfortunate,
    but wholly necessary lengthening of the vacation season. By
    applying to their respective teachers pupils will learn what
    studies to continue.’”


“Whoop!” yelled Bob.

“O-la-la!” cried Ned after the fashion of some Eastern dervish.

“Say! That’s great!” exclaimed Jerry. “A month more of vacation!”

“Now we can go to California with Professor Snodgrass, and help him
catch horned toads!” added Ned.

“And visit the Seabury family,” supplemented Jerry. “Oh, boys, this is
simply immense! Things are coming our way after all!”




CHAPTER V.
PROFESSOR URIAH SNODGRASS


The sudden and unexpected news that they need not begin their school
studies on Monday morning fairly startled the boys, at first. They read
the circular over again, to make sure they were not mistaken.

“Why didn’t I get one?” asked Bob, rather suspiciously.

“Probably it’s at your home now,” suggested Ned.

“And I ought to have one, too,” said Jerry.

“You came away before the letter carrier arrived,” went on Ned. “Maybe
you’d better go see. It might—it might be a mistake—or a joke.”

“Don’t say that!” exclaimed Bob. “I’m going to see if I have a letter
like yours.”

“So am I,” decided Jerry. “It might, as you say, Ned, be a joke, though
it looks genuine.”

To make sure, Jerry and Bob hurried to their homes. There they found
awaiting them circulars, similar to the one Ned had. To further
convince them, as Jerry and Bob were returning to Ned’s house, they met
Andy Rush, a small chap, but as full of life as an electric battery.

“Hello!” he exclaimed—“Great news—no school—boiler busted—thousands of
teachers killed—great calamity—fine—horrible—terrible—don’t have to
study—longer vacation—steam pipes blown out—clouds of steam—no
heat—freeze up—burn to death—great—Whoope-e-e!”

“Did you ever take anything for that?” asked Jerry calmly, when Andy
had finished.

“Dasn’t! if I did I’d blow up! But say—it’s great, isn’t it? Did you
get a circular too?” and Andy showed one. “It’s fearful—terrible—no
school—”

“Come on,” urged Jerry to Bob. “He’ll give us nervous prostration if we
listen to him any longer,” but they need not have hurried, for Andy, so
full of news that he could not keep still, had rushed off down the
street, hopping, skipping and jumping, to spread the tidings, which
nearly every Academy pupil in Cresville knew by that time.

Now the motor boys could discuss a Californian trip in earnest, for
they knew their parents would let them go, especially after Mr.
Seabury’s invitation, and the letter from Professor Snodgrass. In the
course of a few days Jerry received another missive from Nellie
Seabury.

This letter informed Jerry, and, incidentally, his two chums, that she,
with her sisters and father, had settled in a small town near the
coast, not far from Santa Barbara, and on a little ocean bay, which,
Nellie said, was a much nicer place than any they had visited in
Florida.

“Father likes it very much here,” she wrote, “and he declares he feels
better already, though we have been here only a week. He says he knows
it would do him good to see you boys, and he wishes—in fact we all
wish—you three chums could come out here for a long visit, though I
suppose you cannot on account of school opening. But, perhaps, we shall
see you during the next vacation.”

“She’s going to see us sooner than that,” announced Bob, when Jerry had
read the letter to him and Ned.

“Did you write and tell her we were coming?” asked Ned, his two friends
having called at his house to talk over their prospective trip.

“No, I thought we’d wait and see what Professor Snodgrass had planned.
Perhaps he isn’t going to that part of California.”

“That’s so,” admitted Bob. “Guess we’ll have to wait and find out. I
wish he’d call or write. Have you heard anything more about damages for
our smashed boat, Jerry?”

“No, I saw Mr. Hitter the other day, and he advised me to wait a while
before writing again. Something queer happened while I was in his
office, too.”

“What was it’?”

“Well, you remember the man who got off the Boston express that day,
and acted so strange about his boxes of stuff he wanted shipped to the
Pacific coast?”

“Sure,” replied Ned and Bob at once.

“Well, through some mistake one of the boxes was left behind. Mr.
Hitter, had it in his office, intending to ship it back to the man, for
it wasn’t worth while to send one box away out west, but it fell and
burst partly open. The box was in one corner of the room, and, while I
was there Mr. Hitter’s dog went up to it and began sniffing at it. All
at once the dog fell over, just as if he’d been shot. He stiffened out,
and we thought he was dead, from having eaten something poisoned he
found on the floor.”

“Was he?”

“No, after a while he seemed to come to, and was all right, but he
looked sick. Mr. Hitter said there must be something queer in that box,
to make the dog act that way, and he and I smelled of it, taking care
not to get too close.”

“What was in it?” asked Ned.

“I don’t know. It was something that smelled rather sweet, and somewhat
sickish. Mr. Hitter said it might be some queer kind of poison that
acted on animals, but not on human beings, and he put the box up on a
high shelf where his dog couldn’t get at it. But I thought it was
rather queer stuff for a man to be sending away out to the coast.”

“It certainly was,” agreed Bob. “That man acted in a strange manner,
too, as if he was afraid some one would see him. I wonder if there is
any mystery connected with him?”

There came a time when the boys had good reason to remember this
incident of the box filled with a strange substance, for they were in
great danger from it.

“Well, I don’t know that it concerns us,” mused Ned. “I guess we’ll not
get any damages from the railroad company in time to use the money on
our California trip, so we might as well take some cash out of our
saving fund. I do wish we’d hear from the professor. It’s several days
since I wrote to him, saying we would go with him.”

“I suppose he is so busy catching a new kind of flea, or a rare
specimen of mud turtle, that he has forgotten all about writing,”
suggested Bob. “If he doesn’t—”

What Bob intended saying was interrupted by a commotion at the front
door. The bell had rung a few seconds before, and the servant maid had
answered it. Now the boys heard her voice raised in protest:

“Stop! Stop!” she cried. “Don’t do that! You are a crazy man! I’ll call
the police!”

And, in reply came these words:

“Calm yourself, calm yourself, my dear young lady. All I desire is to
capture that spider crawling on your left arm. It is a very valuable
variety of the red spotted species, and I must have it for my
collection. Now just stand still a moment—”

“Professor Snodgrass has arrived!” cried Ned, as he made a rush for the
door.




CHAPTER VI.
A STRANGE CONVERSATION


What the boys saw made them stop short in amazement, and they had hard
work not to burst into laughter at the sight of the professor, but they
knew he would be offended if they made fun of him.

Professor Uriah Snodgrass had dropped his valise on the doorstep, and
the impact had caused it to open, thereby liberating a number of toads
and lizards which were crawling about the steps. In his hand the
scientist held a large magnifying glass, through which he was staring
at something on the arm of the servant. She had her sleeves rolled up
to her elbows, for she had been busy sweeping when she answered the
door bell.

“Let me go!” cried the young woman. “You are crazy! I’ll call the
police!”

“One moment! One moment!” pleaded the professor eagerly. “I must have
that spider. There!” and with a sudden motion he captured the small
insect and transferred it to a tiny glass box. “I have it! Oh, this is
a most fortunate day for me. The museum will be very glad to get this.
It is a perfect specimen,” and he peered at it through his magnifying
glass, as it crawled around, a captive in the box.

“Hello, Professor!” greeted Ned. “Glad to see you.”

“Oh, Ned, how are you?” asked the scientist, without glancing up from
his inspection of the spider. “Luck seems to be with me as soon as I
arrive at your house. I have a spider—”

“Yes, but you’ll not have any of those other specimens long, if you
don’t get busy,” put in Bob. “They’re all hopping or crawling away!”

“Oh, my goodness!” cried Professor Snodgrass, as he glanced down at the
liberated toads and lizards. “Oh, my goodness! That is too bad. I
brought them with me to compare with the horned toads and web-footed
lizards I hope to secure. Now they are getting away. Please, my dear
young lady, help me to save them!”

But the servant maid had fled into the house as soon as the scientist
released her arm. She was convinced that she had just escaped the
clutches of a madman.

“Come on, boys!” called Ned. “Help the professor!”

“Here are some small butterfly nets,” the scientist said, producing
them from his pocket. “Don’t injure the toads or lizards.”

The boys were glad enough of these aids in catching the professor’s
specimens, that were rapidly seeking hiding places about the stoop and
sidewalk. Though they had acquired a certain familiarity with strange
insects and reptiles, from seeing the museum collector handle them,
they did not fancy picking up a toad or lizard bare-handed. With the
nets, however, they managed, with the assistance of the scientist, to
capture most of the specimens, returning them to their cases in the
valise.

“There!” exclaimed Mr. Snodgrass, when, after a close scrutiny of the
porch he could see no more of the creatures, “I think we have them all.
Now boys, permit me to ask how you are. I am sorry my visit was
attended with such excitement, but I could not miss the chance of
getting that spider. That young woman may consider herself in the light
of having advanced science several degrees. There are very few persons
a red spider of that variety will get on.”

“For which we ought all to be very thankful,” announced Jerry. “I beg
to be excused from helping the cause of science in that way. But,
Professor, we’re glad to see you. Are you all ready for your trip to
California?”

“I could start to-night,” was the answer. “I suppose you have matters
all arranged?”

“Nearly so,” returned Ned. “We thought of starting at the end of this
week,” and he explained how they hoped the destination of the scientist
would be such that they might visit the Seaburys.

“That locality suits me all right,” declared Mr. Snodgrass. “I am not
particular where I go, as long as I can get a specimen of a horned
toad, and some web-footed lizards. I understand there are some to be
had in the southern part of California, and so I will go there. I see
no reason why you boys can not go with me, and also visit your friends.
Only I should like to start as soon as possible. The toads may
disappear.”

“Hope not,” said Bob, “for your sake. I haven’t any use for them,
myself.”

“Oh, my dear young friend!” exclaimed the professor. “Some day you will
see the real beauty of a horned toad. It is a most wonderful creature!”

“I’ll take your word for it,” murmured Bob. “But now come in and let’s
see about our arrangements.”

The professor, who had been invited to be a guest at Ned’s house,
pending the start for the west, entered, placing his valise of
specimens in a safe place in the hall. Then he and the boys discussed
matters. Mr. Slade came in, soon after the arrival of the scientist,
and announced that he had, in accordance with a previous arrangement,
purchased the boys’ tickets.

“All you’ve got to do is to pack up and start,” said Mr. Slade. “I’m
not going to give you any advice, for you ought to be able to take care
of yourselves by this time. I know you will be safe as long as you are
with the professor.”

“Thank you,” said the scientist with a bow.

The professor’s arrangements for the western trip were complete and it
did not take the boys long to get ready. By the end of the week the
last valise had been packed, trunks were checked on ahead and, one
morning, the boys started.

They were to proceed to Los Angeles, and from there were to go down the
coast by land to the small town of San Felicity, where Mr. Seabury and
his daughters had rented a bungalow.

“Now for a good time!” exclaimed Ned, as the train pulled out of the
Cresville depot. “I’ve always wanted to visit California, and now I’m
going to.”

“We certainly ought to enjoy ourselves,” agreed Jerry.

The travelers made good time to Chicago, little of incident occurring
on the trip. When they got to the Windy City, they found they would
have to wait several hours for a connecting train, and they put in the
time seeing the sights.

When they returned to the depot they found the professor busy over some
scientific book, sitting as undisturbed in the station, filled as it
was with shifting crowds, as if he was in his quiet study at the
museum.

“The train will be here in about fifteen minutes,” he informed the
boys. “Better sit down and wait.”

The three chums were rather tired, and were glad enough to take their
places on the comfortable benches.

“Chicago is a great place,” announced Bob. “That restaurant, where we
had dinner—”

“Can’t you say something that hasn’t got any eating in it?” asked Ned.
“You’re the limit, you are.”

“Well,” said Bob, “they certainly had fine pie in that place. I wish—”

He stopped suddenly, as Jerry help up his hand to indicate silence.

“What’s the matter?” asked Ned in a whisper, as he leaned forward. “See
some new kind of a bug for the professor?”

“I overheard that man back of us speaking,” replied Jerry in a low
tone, nodding his head to indicate where he meant. The benches were
arranged so that travelers occupying them sat back to back. “His voice
sounded like one I’ve heard before, but I can’t place it. I thought
maybe you’d remember. We may have met him on our travels. I can’t see
his face until he turns around.”

As he finished speaking, the man to whom he referred said something to
his companion beside him. There came a momentary lull in the noises of
the depot, and the boys heard him remark in low, but clear tones:

“We can make everything look regular. Derelicts are not uncommon, and I
think we’ll be able to fool him so that the cargo—”

“Hush!” cautioned the other man. “Not so loud!”

The noise in the station again drowned what the two men were saying,
but the boys had heard enough. All three of them knew at once that the
man who had spoken was the stranger who had acted so queerly in the
Cresville freight office. If they had any doubts of it they were
dispelled a moment later when the doorman called out:

“All aboard for the western express!”

As the man and his companion arose, the boys saw he was the same
individual who had been so particular about the boxes of stuff he
shipped to San Francisco.

Before the three chums could make any comment the man and his companion
were lost in the crowd that thronged to the door.

“Come, boys,” said the professor, closing his book. “That’s our train.”




CHAPTER VII.
A BAD BREAK


“That was queer, wasn’t it?” said Jerry to his chums when they were
seated in the train, moving swiftly toward the great west. “I wonder
what he meant, and what he was doing out here?”

“And I guess you can keep on wondering, for all the good it will do,”
commented Bob. “I couldn’t make anything out of what they said, except
that some ship might be lost. That’s common enough.”

“I wonder what that stuff was that he shipped from the freight office?”
mused Jerry.

“Rat poison, maybe,” replied Ned with a laugh. “I’ve heard there are
lots of rats on ships, and maybe he has a patent stuff for getting rid
of ’em.”

“It might be,” agreed Jerry. “Well, as Bob says, there’s no use
wondering. Say, but this is pretty nice scenery,” and he pointed to the
view from the window, as they were passing along the shores of a lake.

“Fine!” exclaimed Ned. “It ought to have some mountains around it, and
it would look just like Lost Lake, where we found the hermit, that
time.”

“Seems as if that was a good while ago,” commented Bob, “but it wasn’t
so very.”

For several hours the boys discussed their past adventures, some of
which were brought to their minds by views of the western country
through which they were passing. Professor Snodgrass took no interest
in anything except a big book which he was studying carefully, at times
making notes on slips of paper, which had a tendency to drop into the
aisle, or under the seat when he was not looking. In consequence the
car, in the vicinity of where the professor sat, looked as though a
theatrical snow-storm had taken place.

One morning the boys awakened to find the train making fast time over a
level stretch of country, with rolling hills here and there, covered
with tall grass. Occasionally glimpses could be had of herds of cattle.

“We’re on the prairies!” exclaimed Bob, as he went to the lavatory to
get ready for breakfast. “Say, now we’re in the wild and woolly west,
all right.”

“Well, it’s not the first time,” replied Jerry. “Still it does look
good to see it again. It’s a little different, traveling this way, than
it was scooting along in our auto.”

“Yes, and I think I prefer the auto to this,” spoke up Ned, yawning and
stretching. “This is too lazy a way of journeying. I’d like to rough it
a bit.”

“Rough it!” exclaimed Bob. “Wait until we get out in California, and we
can sleep out doors, while the folks back home are tending the furnace
fire.”

The three boys were just about to enter the lavatory when the train
gave a sudden lurch, and then it began bumping along over the ties,
swaying from side to side. Every window in the car rattled as if it
would break, and the boys were so shaken up, that, to steady
themselves, they had to grasp whatever was nearest.

“We’re off the track!” cried Ned.

“This—is—roughing—it—all right!” said Jerry, the words coming out in
jerks. “There’s—been—an—accident!”

“A—whole—lot—of—’em—by—the—way—it—feels to—me,” declared Jerry.
“I—wonder—”

Just then the train came to a stop, the car the boys were in being
tilted at quite an angle.

“Let’s see what happened,” suggested Bob, going to the door. His
companions followed him, and, from various berths the passengers began
emerging, in different stages of undress. They looked frightened.

“Well, at any rate, none of us are killed,” said Professor Snodgrass,
as he came down the aisle, fully dressed, for he had arisen early to
continue his reading about horned toads. “What is the matter, boys?”

“We’re just going to find out,” said Jerry, as he went down the steps
and walked along the track toward the engine, about which a crowd of
passengers and train men were gathered.

“What’s the trouble?” asked Bob of a brakeman who was running toward
the rear end of the train with a red flag.

“I don’t know exactly. Something wrong with the engine; I guess. I
heard the conductor say it was a bad break.”

“Come on,” said Jerry to his chums. “There doesn’t seem to be anybody
hurt, but it looks as if we were in for a long wait,” and he pointed to
several cars that were off the track, the wheels resting on the wooden
ties.




CHAPTER VIII.
HEMMED IN


The boys found a group of worried trainmen gathered about the engine,
and it needed but a glance to show what the trouble was. The piston rod
had broken while the ponderous engine was going at full speed, and the
driving rods, which had broken off from where they were fastened to the
wheels, had been driven deep into the ground. This had served to fairly
lift the engine from the rails, and, in its mad journey it had pulled
several cars with it.

The piston rod, threshing about with nothing to hold it, had broken
several parts of the engine, and some pieces of the driving rods had
been hurled up into the cab, narrowly missing the engineer.

“It sure is a bad break,” said the fireman as he got down from the cab,
after opening the door of the fire box, so that the engine would cool
down. “Never saw a worse.”

“Me either,” fairly growled the conductor.

“Why couldn’t it have held off a couple of hours more and we’d been
near some place where we could telegraph for help.”

“You don’t mean to say we are away out on the prairies not near a
telegraph station, do you?” asked an excited man.

“That’s just what I do mean to say,” replied the conductor. “I’ve got
to send a brakeman on foot eight miles to wire the news of this
accident.”

“You ought to have a telegraph instrument on the train,” said the
excited man. “This delay is a bad thing for me. If I don’t arrive on
time I’ll sue the road. Why don’t you have a telegraph instrument on
the train?”

“I don’t know,” replied the conductor wearily, for he realized he was
now in for a cross-fire of all sorts of questions.

“How long will we have to wait here?” asked another man.

“It’s hard to say. The brakeman will go as fast as he can, but it will
take some time to get the wrecking crew here with a new engine, and
then it will take some time to get all the cars back on the track.”

“Railroads oughtn’t to have such accidents!” declared the excitable
man. “I’ll sue ’em, that’s what I’ll do. What made the piston rod
break, conductor?”

“Oh—I guess it got tired of going in and out of the cylinder,” retorted
the conductor, starting towards the baggage car.

“Humph! I’ll report you for impertinence!” declared the now angry
passenger, taking out his notebook and making a memorandum lest he
forget the conductor’s retort. “It’s a disgrace the way this road is
managed,” he went on to the crowd of passengers that had gathered. “I’m
going to write to the newspapers about it. They’re always having
accidents. Why, only last week, they run over a steer, somewhere in
this locality, the engine was derailed, two cars smashed, the road bed
torn up, baggage and express stuff scattered all over, everything
upside down, topsy-turvy and—”

“Was the steer killed?” asked a little boy, who was listening with
opened mouth and eyes to the story the excited passenger was telling.

“What!” fairly roared the man, and then, as he saw who had asked the
question, he turned away, and there was a general laugh.

“Do you think we’ll be here long?” asked Bob of the colored porter of
the sleeping car they had occupied.

“Oh, yes, indeedy!” exclaimed the attendant, “If we gits on de move
befo’ night we’ll be mighty lucky.”

“Then we’ve got to stay out here on the prairie all day,” exclaimed
Jerry.

“Dat’s what,” spoke the negro as cheerfully as though that was the
regular program.

The other passengers were returning to their berths to finish dressing,
and soon the excitement that followed the accident had almost
disappeared. Breakfast was served, and there was nothing to do but to
wait for the arrival of the wrecking crew.

“What’s the matter with taking a stroll across the prairie?” suggested
Jerry, when the boys and the professor had finished their morning meal.
“There’s no fun sitting here in the car all day.”

“Good idea!” exclaimed Ned. “I’m with you. Maybe Chunky will be afraid
to come, for fear train robbers will carry off the dining car while
he’s gone.”

“Oh, you let up!” retorted Bob. “You like to eat as much as I do.”

“Not quite as much, Chunky, but I admit I like my three square meals a
day.”

“Where are you going, boys?” asked the professor, looking up from his
book, as he saw the three chums leaving the car.

“Out for a walk across the prairie,” replied Ned.

“Wait, and I’ll go with you. I might get some new specimens. I must
never waste an opportunity,” and, placing in his pockets several small
boxes to hold any possible captives he might get in his butterfly net,
the scientist was ready.

It was pleasant on the vast plain that stretched away in every
direction from the derailed train. The sun was shining brightly, but
not too warm, and there was a gentle breeze.

“This is fine!” exclaimed Jerry.

The boys and the professor strolled on for several miles, the three
chums enjoying the walk very much, while Mr. Snodgrass was continually
finding some new insect, or a flower, until his specimen boxes were
full.

“Well, we’ve come quite a distance,” said Ned, as they got on top of a
small hill and looked about. “We can’t see the train anywhere. I guess
we’d better be thinking of starting back.”

“Maybe we had,” agreed Jerry. “But what’s that dark line out there?”
and he pointed to the horizon.

“A cloud isn’t it?” asked Bob.

“It’s too low, and it doesn’t move like a cloud,” objected Jerry.

They watched it for some time, as it got larger and larger.

“Why it’s all around us!” suddenly exclaimed Bob.

And so it was. The travelers were hemmed in by a peculiar, moving ring,
that seemed to get smaller and smaller.

“What do you think it is, Professor?” asked Ned.

“That? Why—er that is—um—curious, I can’t just say what it is,” replied
Mr. Snodgrass.

“I have a small telescope,” said Ned, producing it from his pocket,
“We’ll take a look through it,” and he adjusted it, focusing it on the
dark ring, that was, every moment, growing closer and closer to the
little group on the hill.




CHAPTER IX.
A LUCKY ESCAPE


“What do you make it to be?” asked Jerry, as Ned was staring through
the glass.

“Cattle!”

“Cattle?”

“Yes, steers. Thousands of ’em. And they seem to be headed this way.”

“Let me take a look,” said Jerry. “You’re right,” he added, after an
inspection. “They seem to be coming on rather fast, too. I guess we’d
better get out of here. Cattle on the prairies don’t like to see
persons who are not on horseback. They are not used to a man unless
he’s mounted, and I’ve read that a man on foot may cause a stampede.”

“I hope they don’t run in this direction,” remarked Bob. “It’s going to
be unpleasant for us if they do.”

“We’d better get out of here,” advised Ned. “Come on, fellows.”

“That’s easier said than done,” retorted Jerry.

“The cattle are all around us. I don’t see how we’re going to get
through them. If we go too close we may stampede ’em at once, whereas,
if we stay here, they may pass by us, or change their direction.”

“What’s the matter with the cowboys?” asked Rob. “Why don’t they head
the animals the other way when they see we’re right in the path?”

“Probably the cattlemen are on the outer edges of the herd,” said
Jerry. “The cowboys can’t see us, and they’re simply driving the steers
on.”

“But what makes them go in a circle?” asked Bob.

“Probably the men are driving them all in to a central point to take
account of stock, or something like that,” was Jerry’s answer. “But,
instead of standing here talking of it we’d better be doing something.
What do you advise, Professor?”

Uriah Snodgrass, who had discovered some queer kind of a jumping bug in
the grass, had lost all interest in the approaching steers, but, at
this question, he looked up.

“What did you ask?” he said, making a grab for the bug, and catching
it.

“What do you think we’d better do?” asked Ned. “This is getting
serious.”

“What is? Oh, the steers. Why, they are getting a little too close,
aren’t they?”

They were, for a fact, and the animals in the foremost ranks, catching
sight of the little party on the hill, broke into awkward gallop. As
far as the boys could see, they beheld nothing but waving tails,
heaving heads, armed with long sharp horns, and the movement of brown
bodies, as the thousands of steers came on with a rush.

“We’d better—” began the professor, who was walking slowly along, his
eyes fixed on the ground, in search for another of the queer bugs.
“Look out!” he suddenly cried. “Stand back boys!”

Hardly had he spoken than there sounded, high and shrill above the dull
rumble of the oncoming cattle, a queer, buzzing noise.

“Rattlesna” exclaimed Ned.

“Yes, a whole nest of them, in a prairie dog’s hole,” added the
professor. “I nearly stepped into them. There must be thirty or forty.”

The boys looked to where he pointed. There, in a sort of depression,
near a little hollow, on the edge of what is called a prairie dog
village, they saw an ugly wiggling mass, which, as their eyes became
more used to the colorings, was seen to be a number of the deadly
rattlesnakes.

Several were coiled to strike, and had, in accordance with their habit,
sounded their rattles. This had aroused the whole den, many snakes
appearing from under ground, or crawling from beneath stones.

“Come on! They’ll chase us!” cried Bob.

“Nonsense,” replied the professor. “Rattlesnakes never attack man
unless they are first disturbed. It wouldn’t be advisable to go too
close, but, as long as we don’t molest them, we have nothing to fear
from the snakes. I’d like to get a few specimens if I had the proper
appliances for extracting their fangs. But I never saw so many in one
place, before. It is quite interesting to watch—”

The professor broke off suddenly, for the thunderous noise of the
approaching steers was now louder.

“They’re coming right at us!” exclaimed Jerry.

“Yes, and they’ve stampeded!” cried Ned. “We’re in for it now!”

The situation of the boys and the professor was extremely perilous.
They were right in the path of the now frightened steers. The circle
had been broken, by many animals, which had been approaching from the
rear of the travelers, joining the beasts on either side, so that now a
compact, dark mass of cattle, nearly a quarter of a mile wide, was
surging ahead with great speed.

“Run!” called Ned. “There’s an opening at our backs now!”

“You couldn’t go a hundred feet before they’d overtake you!” shouted
Jerry. “Let’s see if we can’t frighten ’em. Take off your hats, jump up
and down, and yell like mad. If we can force ’em to separate and go on
either side of us, we’ll be all right!”

He started to swing his hat in the air, and prepared to let out a
series of yells in imitation of an Indian war-whoop.

“Don’t!” cried the professor quickly.

“Why not?” asked Jerry. “It’s the only way to stop ’em.”

“I know a better, and a surer way,” replied the scientist. “Get the
rattlesnakes between ourselves and the cattle! Those steers will never
go near a rattlesnake den, no matter how frightened they are, nor how
badly stampeded! Quick! Here they come!”

The cattle were scarcely two hundred feet away, and were maddened by
the sight of unmounted persons, something to which they were
unaccustomed, and which thoroughly frightened them. The ground was
trembling with their hoof-beats, and the rattle of the horns, as they
clashed together, was like the murmur of cannibal tom-toms.

The professor grabbed Bob, who was nearest him, and swung the boy
around, so as to get the nest of rattlesnakes between them and the
steers. Ned and Jerry followed. The snakes, now all aroused, were
rattling away like half a hundred electric batteries working at once.

Would the professor’s ruse succeed? Would the steers be afraid to come
over the deadly reptiles, to trample down the little group, which the
animals probably took for some new species of enemy? These were
questions which the boys waited anxiously to have answered. Nor did
they have to wait long.

The foremost of the steers came within a few feet of the rattlers. Then
something seemed to stiffen the cattle. They tried to stop short, but
the press of the beasts behind them would not permit of this. For a few
seconds it looked as if the impetus of the cattle in the rear would
shove the others on, in spite of their desire to stop.

But now more of the foremost steers became aware of the den of snakes.
Their instinct, their sense of smell, and, above all, hearing the
rattling, told them the terrible danger that was in their path. More of
the animals braced their forelegs to bring themselves to a stop, and
all bellowed in terror. Then, almost as though an order had been given
by some one in command, the ranks of steers parted, right at the point
where the snakes were reared ready to strike.

To right and left the cattle passed, increasing their speed as they
became aware of the danger they were escaping. The boys and the
professor stood on the little eminence of land, as if they were on an
island in a sea of cattle. The angry snakes hissed and rattled, but did
not glide away, or what had proved a source of safety for the
travelers, might have been instrumental in their death.

Right past them rushed the cattle, raising a dust that was choking. The
four were enveloped in a yellow haze, as they stood huddled together.
Then, the last of the steers galloped past, with a band of excited
cowboys in the rear, vainly endeavoring to understand the cause of the
stampede, and halt it. As they rode on like the wind, they waved their
hands to the boys and Mr. Snodgrass.

“Well, I guess we can move on now,” said Jerry, as the last of the
steers and cowboys was lost in a cloud of dust that accompanied them.
“I’ve seen all the beef I want to for a long time.”

“That’s the first time I ever knew rattlesnakes were good for
anything,” remarked Ned, as he backed away, with his eyes on the den of
reptiles, as if afraid they would spring at him.

“They are more feared by animals than any other snake in this country,
I believe,” said the professor. “Luck was certainly with us to-day.”

The professor successfully resisted a desire to capture some of the
snakes for specimens, and soon, with the three boys, he was on his way
back to the stalled train, though he did not make very fast progress
for he was continually stopping to gather in some strange insect.

It was long past dinner-time when the travelers got back, but they
found they were not the only ones in this predicament, for a number of
the passengers had beguiled the tediousness of the wait by going off
across the prairie.

“Let’s get the porter to get us some sandwiches, and then we’ll watch
’em get the train back on the track,” suggested Jerry.




CHAPTER X.
AT THE SEABURYS’


The wrecking crew had arrived shortly before the boys and the professor
got back, and there was a big crowd of passengers and train men around
the laborers.

“Never mind eating,” called Ned. “Come on, watch ’em. We can get a bite
afterward.”

“Not for mine,” sung out Bob, as he made a dive for the dining car.
“I’ll be with you pretty soon.”

“There he goes again,” remarked Ned with a sigh. “I couldn’t eat when
there’s any excitement going on. I want to see how they get the cars on
the track.”

“So do I.” said Jerry.

They pressed on to where, by means of powerful hydraulic jacks, men
were busy raising up the engine, which, because of its weight, had sunk
quite deeply into the ground. The jacks were small, but one man worked
the handle, which pumped water from one part of it to another, and
elevated a piston, that, in turn was forced up with terrible pressure,
thus raising one end of the ponderous locomotive.

When the wheels were clear of the earth other men slipped under them
some peculiar shaped pieces of iron, so arranged that when the
locomotive was pulled or pushed ahead by another engine, the wheels
would slip upon the rails.

In turn each of the wheels of the engine and tender were so fixed. Then
word was given the engineer of the relief train to back down and haul
the derailed locomotive back on to the track.

“All ready?” called the foreman of the wrecking crew.

“All ready,” replied the engineer.

Jerry and Ned, in common with scores of others, were straining forward
to watch every detail of the task. They wanted to see whether the
locomotive would take to the rails, or slip off the inclined irons, and
again settle down upon the ground.

“Let her go, Bill,” called the foreman to the engineer of the wrecking
crew.

There was a warning whistle, a straining of heavy chains, creakings and
groanings from the derailed engine as if it objected to being pulled
and hauled about, then the ponderous driving wheels began to turn
slowly.

“Stand clear, everybody!” cried the foreman.

At that moment Bob came running up, using the back of his hand as a
napkin for his lips.

“There she goes!” was the loud cry.

As the crowd looked, they saw the derailed and helpless engine give a
sort of shudder and shake, mount the inclined pieces of iron, and then
slide upon the rails, settling down where it belonged.

“Hurrah!” cried the passengers, in recognition of a hard task well
accomplished.

“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” announced the foreman. “Now boys, hustle,
and we’ll get the cars on, and the line will be clear.”

It did not take long to get the cars on the rails, as they were
lighter. The damaged engine was switched off to one side, some rails,
which had been displaced when the train bumped off, were spiked down,
and the wreck was a thing of the past.

“All aboard!” called the conductor. “All aboard! Step lively now!”

The relief engine was not a fast one, being built more for power than
speed, and the train had to proceed along rather slowly. But the boys
did not mind this, as they had plenty to talk about, and they were
interested in the country through which they were traveling.

They arrived at Los Angeles somewhat behind their schedule, and did not
leave there as soon as they expected to, as Professor Snodgrass wanted
to call on a scientific friend, to learn something about the best place
to hunt for horned toads.

“It’s all right, boys,” he announced, when he returned to the Los
Angeles hotel, where the three chums had put up. “My friend says the
vicinity of San Felicity, where you are going to call on the Seaburys,
is a grand place for horned toads. Come, we will start at once.”

They found, however, that they would have to wait until the next day
for a train. They started early the following morning, traveling
through a stretch of country where it seemed as if it was always
summer. Back home there had already been evidences of fall, before they
left, but here there seemed to be no hint of approaching winter.

“Oh, isn’t this fine!” exclaimed Ned, breathing in the sweetly-scented
air, as he stuck his head from the car window. “It’s like reading about
some fairy story!”

“It’s better than reading it,” said Jerry. “It’s the real thing.”

They arrived at San Felicity, shortly before noon. It was a very hot
day, though the morning had been cool, and the boys began to appreciate
the fact that they had come to a southern climate. There seemed to be
no one at the little railroad station, at which they were the only
passengers to leave the train. The train baggage man piled their trunks
and valises in a heap on the platform, the engine gave a farewell toot,
and the travelers were thus left alone, in what appeared a deserted
locality.

“There doesn’t seem to be much doing,” observed Jerry. “Let’s see now,
Nellie wrote that we were to take a stage to get to their house, but I
don’t see any stage. Wonder where the station agent is?”

“Hark!” said the professor, raising his hand for silence. “What noise
is that? It sounds as if it might be a horned toad grunting. They make
a noise just like that.”

“I would say it sounded more like some one snoring,” ventured Ned.

“It is!” exclaimed Bob. “Here’s the station agent asleep in the ticket
office,” and he looked in an open window, on the shady side of the
platform. From the interior came the sounds which indicated a person in
deep slumber.

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the professor. “I took him for a horned
toad! I hope he didn’t hear me.”

“No danger,” remarked Jerry. “He’s sound asleep. Even the train didn’t
wake him up.”

The four gazed in on the slumbering agent. Perhaps there was some
mysterious influence in the four pairs of eyes, for the man suddenly
awakened with a start, stared for a moment at the travelers gazing in
on him, and then sat up.

“Good day, señors!” he exclaimed, and they saw that he was a Mexican.
“Do you wish tickets? If you do, I regret to inform you that the only
train for the day has gone. There will be none until to-morrow,” and he
prepared to go to sleep again.

“Here!” cried Jerry. “We don’t want any, tickets! We want to find the
way to Mr. Nathan Seabury’s house, and to learn if there’s a stage
which goes there.”

“There is, señor,” replied the agent, yawning, “but I doubt if the
driver is here. He seldom comes to meet the train, as there are very
few travelers. Will it not do to go to Señor Seabury’s to-morrow, or
next day, or the day after?”

“Hardly,” replied Jerry, who, as did the other boys, began to
appreciate the Mexican habit of saying “mananna” which means
“to-morrow,” for the Mexicans have a lazy habit of putting off until
to-morrow whatever they have to do to-day. “We want to go to-day, right
away, at once, now!”

“Ah, the señors are Americanos—always in a hurry,” answered the agent,
but in no unfriendly manner. “Very well, I will see if Hop Sing has his
stage here.”

“Hop Sing?” questioned Ned.

“Yes, señor, he is a Chinaman. You will find him a very slow and
careful driver.”

“Slow? I guess everything’s slow down here,” said Ned in a low voice.

The agent came leisurely from his office, walked to the end of the
platform, and, pointing toward a low shed, remarked:

“That is where the stage is kept. I will call, and see if Hop Sing is
there.”

Then he called, but in such a low tone, as if he was afraid he might
strain his voice, that it did not seem as if he could be heard ten feet
away. Jerry stood it as long as he could and then said:

“I guess Hop Sing must be taking his noon nap. I’ll go over and wake
him up.”

“Ah, the señor is in a hurry,” and the Mexican agent smiled as though
that was a strange thing. “If he would wait an hour, or perhaps two,
Hop Sing might awaken. Besides, to-morrow—”

“Not for ours,” said Ned. “We’ve got to go to-day.”

The agent shrugged his shoulders, and went back into his little office
to resume his nap. Jerry walked over to the shed.

“Hey! Hop Sing!” he called, as he approached. “Where’s the stage?”

“Want stage? Take lide? All lite! Me come! Chop-chop! Give number one,
top-slide lide!” exclaimed a voice, and a small Chinaman jumped down
from the stage seat, where, under the shade of the shed he had been
sleeping, and began to untie the halters of the mules that were
attached to the ram-shackle old vehicle.

“Be lite out!” Hop Sing went on. “Me glive you click lide. Me go fast!
You see! Chop-chop!”

“All right, if the old shebang doesn’t fall apart on the way,” said
Jerry with a laugh, as he saw the stage which the Celestial backed out
of the shed. Certainly it looked as if it could not go many miles.

“Come on!” called Jerry to Ned, Bob and the professor, who had remained
on the platform. “I guess it’s safe. The mules don’t look as if they
would run away.”

They piled into the aged vehicle, and Hop Sing, with a quickness that
was in surprising contrast to the indolence of the Mexican agent, put
their trunks and valises on top.

“Now we glow click, you sabe?” he said, smiling from ear to ear. “Me
know Mlister Seablury. Him number one man, top-slide,” which was Hop
Sing’s way of saying that anything was the very best possible.

The boys soon found that while Hop Sing might be a slow and careful
driver, it was due more to the characters of the mules, than to
anything else. The Chinese yelled at them in a queer mixture of his own
language, Mexican and American. He belabored them with a whip, and
yanked on the reins, but the animals only ambled slowly along the sunny
road, as if they had a certain time schedule, and were determined to
stick to it.

“Can’t they go any faster?” asked Ned.

“Flaster?” asked Hop, innocently. “They Mlexican mules. No go flast. Me
go flast, mules not,” and he began jumping up and down in his seat, as
if that would help matters any. He redoubled his yells and shouts, and
made the whip crack like a pistol, but the mules only wagged their ears
and crawled along.

“I guess you’ll have to let matters take their course while you’re
here,” suggested the professor. “You can’t change the habits of the
people, or the animals.”

They did manage, after strenuous efforts on Hop’s part, to get to the
Seabury bungalow. It was in the midst of a beautiful garden, and a long
walk led up to the house, around which was an adobe wall, with a red
gate. Over the gate was a roof, making a pleasant shade, and there were
seats, where one might rest.

In fact some one was resting there as the stage drove up. He was a
colored man, stretched out on his back, sound asleep.

“Well, I wonder if they do anything else in this country but sleep?”
asked Jerry.

“Why—that’s Ponto, Mr. Seabury’s negro helper,” said Ned. “Hello,
Ponto. All aboard the _Wanderer!”_

“What’s dat? Who done call me?” and the colored man sat up suddenly,
rubbing his eyes. “Who says _Wanderer? _ Why dat boat—”

Then he caught sight of the travelers.

“Why, I ’clar’ t’ gracious!” he exclaimed. “Ef it ain’t dem motor boys
an’ Perfesser Snowgrass!”

“How are you, Ponto?” sang out Bob.

“Fine, sah! Dat’s what I is! Fine. I ’clar’ t’ gracious I’se glad t’
see yo’! Git down offen dat stage! It’ll fall apart in anoder minute!
Go long outer heah, yo’ yellow trash!” and Ponto shook his fist at Hop
Sing. “Wha’ fo’ yo’ stan’ ‘round heah, listen’ t’ what yo’ betters
sayin’.”

“I guess I’d better pay him,” said Jerry, and settled with the
Celestial, who drove slowly off.

“Now come right in!” exclaimed Ponto. “I were—I were jest thinkin’ out
dar on dat bench—yais, sah, I were thinkin’, an’ fust thing I knowed I
was ’sleep. It’s a turrible sleepy country, dat’s what ’tis, fer a
fact. I’se gittin’ in turrible lazy habits sence I come heah. But come
on in. Massa Seabury, he’ll be powerful glad t’ see yo’. So’ll th’
young ladies. Dey was sayin’ only las’ night, dat it seemed laik dem
boys nevah goin’ t’ come. But heah yo’ be! Yais, sah, I were jest
thinkin’ out on dat bench—”

But Panto’s rambling talk was suddenly interrupted by a glad cry from
the shrubbery. Then there came a rush of skirts, and the boys saw three
girls running toward them.

“Here they are, dad!” called Nellie. “Here are the boys and Professor
Snodgrass! Oh, we’re so glad you came! Welcome to ‘The Next Day’!
That’s what we’ve christened our bungalow, in honor of this lazy
country. Come on in,” and she ran up to Jerry, holding out her hands.




CHAPTER XI.
AFTER HORNED TOADS


Olivia and Rose, as had Nellie, warmly welcomed the boys and Professor
Snodgrass, and, Mr. Seabury coming up a moment later, from his usual
stroll about the garden, added his greetings.

“We’re very glad to see you,” said the gentleman. “Come right in and
make yourselves comfortable. We have more room than we had on the
houseboat _Wanderer. _ I’ll have your baggage—where is that black
rascal, Ponto?—Ponto!”

“Yais, sah, I’se coming,” called a voice, and Ponto who had gone back
to the gate appeared, rubbing his eyes.

“Ponto, take these—why, you—you’ve been asleep again, I do
believe—Ponto—”

“I—I done gone an’ jest dozed off fo’ a minute, Massa Seabury,” said
Ponto. “I ’clar’ t’ goodness, dis am de most sleepiest climate I eber
see. Peers laik I cain’t do nuffin, but shet mah eyes an’—”

“Well if you don’t do something mighty quick with this baggage I’ll
find some way of keeping you awake,” spoke Mr. Seabury, but he was
laughing in spite of himself.

“Yais, sah, I’se goin’ t’ take keer of it immejeet, sah,” and the
colored man went off in search of a wheelbarrow, on which to bring the
trunks and valises up to the house from where they had been put off the
stage.

“I never saw such a chap,” said Mr. Seabury. “Before we came down here
he was as spry as I could wish, but now he does just as the Mexicans
do. He sleeps every chance he gets. But come on in. I know you must be
tired and hungry.”

“Bob is,” said Jerry. “I heard him say a while ago—”

“No, you didn’t hear me say anything,” exclaimed Bob quickly, fearful
lest he might be put to shame before the girls. “I’m not a bit hungry.”

“Fibber!” whispered Ned, though not so low but what they all heard, and
the girls burst into laughter.

“Never mind,” spoke Olivia. “Come on, Bob. I’ll take care of you. The
cook and I are great friends,” and the girl and Bob walked on ahead.

“I suppose you came out here to study some new kind of plant or
flowers, didn’t you?” asked Mr. Seabury, of the professor.

“Not exactly,” replied the scientist, “though I shall examine them with
much interest. What I came down for was to secure some specimens of
horned toads for the museum. I—”

“Horned toads!” exclaimed Nellie, who was walking with Jerry, while
Rose had volunteered to show Ned the beauties of the Mexican garden.
“Horned toads! Ugh! The horrible things. I hope you don’t bring them
around where I am, Professor. Horned toads! Why don’t you search after
something beautiful, like the wonderful butterfly you found in
Florida?”

“A horned toad is just as beautiful as a butterfly,” said Mr. Snodgrass
gravely. “The only difference is, people don’t appreciate the toad. I
do, and, some day, I hope to write a history of that creature. I have
my notes ready for the first volume, which will be a sort of
introduction.”

“How many volumes do you expect to write?” asked Mr. Seabury,
curiously.

“Twelve,” replied the scientist calmly. “Even then I will have to omit
much that is of interest. But I hope, in twelve, large books, to be
able to convey some idea of horned toads, as well as some information
about the other species.”

“Twelve volumes! I should hope so!” murmured Mr. Seabury.

By this time the travelers were at the bungalow. It was a well-arranged
affair, quite large, and set in the midst of a beautiful garden, with
rambling paths, and shady bowers, while the whole place was enclosed by
a mud or adobe wall. All around the bungalow was a wide veranda, and in
the center courtyard was a small fountain, with a jet of water spurting
up from the middle of a large shell.

“Isn’t this fine!” exclaimed Jerry, and the other boys agreed it was.

“Yes, we like ‘The Next Day’ very much,” said Nellie. “It was my idea
to call it that. From the very moment we arrived, and wanted something
done, about the only answer we could get was ‘to-morrow,’ ‘Mananna’ or
‘the next day,’ so I decided that would be a good name for the
bungalow.”

“Indeed it is,” declared the professor. “But you have a most delightful
place, and I should like to spend many ‘next days’ here. I hope your
health is better, Mr. Seabury?”

“Considerably so, sir. I find the air here agrees with my nerves and
rheumatism much better than in Florida. I have hopes of entirely
recovering. But let us go inside, I think luncheon is ready.”

It was and, in the cool dining-room, within sound of the tinkling
fountain, they ate a hearty meal, Bob demonstrating in his usual
fashion that he was quite hungry.

The girls took turns in explaining their experiences since coming to
California. The bungalow, which they rented, was on the outskirts of
the village of San Felicity, which was part of what had once been an
old Mexican town. It was located on the shores of a secluded bay, and
the bungalow was about ten minutes’ walk from the water.

“Do you think there are any horned toads around here?” asked the
professor, when the meal was finished, and they had gone out on the
veranda.

“I don’t know, I’m sure,” replied Mr. Seabury. “I’ll ask Ponto, he
knows everything there is to be known about this place. Ponto! I say,
Ponto!”

“Yais, sah, I’se comin’ sah!” and from somewhere in the depths of the
garden the voice sounded. A moment later the colored man appeared,
trying to hide a broad yawn.

“Ponto, do you know—well, I declare, if you haven’t been asleep again!”

“I—I—er—I jest was weedin’ de garden, Massa Seabury, an’ I done felt so
warm dat I jest closed mah eyes, jest fo’ a second, not a minute
longer, no sah, not a minute. Guess I knows better dan t’ go t’ sleep
when yo’ got company sah!” and Ponto looked very much hurt at the
accusation.

“Well, Ponto, I suppose you can’t help it. Do you happen to know where
there are any horned toads?”

“Horned toads! Good lan’, Massa Seabury! No sah! I ain’t got none!”

“I didn’t suppose you had. Do you know whether there are any around
here?”

“Well, I doan know ef dey has horns or not, but de oder day, when I
were comin’ home from goin’ t’ ole Mexican Pete’s shanty after some red
peppers, I seen some horrible kind of thing hoppin’ along ober de sand.
I—I didn’t stop t’ look an’ see ef he had horns, but I s’pects he had,
cause he were kind of diggin’ in de sand.”

“That’s the toad all right!” exclaimed the professor, joyfully. “Where
is the place? Take me out there right away, Ponto.”

“Take you out dere, Perfesser?”

“Yes, right away.”

“I—I s’pects I’d better go back an’ ’tend t’ mah weedin’!” exclaimed
Ponto, looking as pale as a colored man can look. “Weeds grow powerful
fast in dis climate. Dey’ll choke de flowers in about an hour. I’se got
t’ ’tend t’ ’em immejeet, sah. I ain’t got no time t’ go huntin’ horned
toads. I hopes you’ll ’scuse me, sah,” and with that Ponto was gone,
walking faster than he had at any time since the travelers arrived.

“He’s afraid,” said Rose, with a laugh. “I’m not. Come on, Professor,
I’ll show you where Ponto means, and maybe we can find some horned
toads.”

“Let’s all go,” proposed Jerry.

“I will, if you’ll promise not to let the horrible things come near
me,” said Nellie, and Jerry promised.

Mr. Seabury declared he would rather rest on the veranda than hunt
horned toads, so the three boys and the trio of girls, with the
professor, who armed himself with specimen boxes and a small net, set
off after the curious reptiles.

A short distance from the bungalow there was a sort of sandy stretch,
where little grew in the way of vegetation, and there, Rose explained,
was probably where Ponto had seen the toads. They headed toward it, the
scientist eagerly looking on the ground, for a first sight of the
specimens he had come so far to seek.




CHAPTER XII.
A STRANGE MEETING


“I guess Ponto must have been asleep when he was walking along here,
and dreamed he saw those toads,” commented Ned, after the party had
covered a considerable part of the sandy stretch without getting a
glimpse of the ugly reptiles.

“That’s too bad!” exclaimed the professor. “I had hopes of finding one
here.”

“Oh!” suddenly screamed Rose. “There’s one!”

“Where?” asked the scientist eagerly.

“Right there, by that stone. I saw it jump. Oh, girls, I’m going to
run!”

“And she said she wasn’t afraid of them!” cried Nellie.

The professor cautiously approached with his net outstretched. With a
long stick he turned the boulder over, and made a quick movement with
his net, imprisoning something beneath it.

“I’ve got it!” he cried. “I have the horned toad!”

Holding his captive down beneath the net, he leaned forward on his
knees, to get a better view. Over his face came a look of
disappointment.

“It’s only a harmless lizard,” he said, “and not one of the web-footed
variety, either. That’s too bad. I thought I had my toad.”

“I’m glad, Professor,” said Rose. “Oh, no,” she added quickly, “I’m
sorry for you, but I’m glad it wasn’t a horned toad so close to me.”

The professor raised the net and the lizard scurried away, probably
very much frightened, and wondering what all the excitement was about.

“Let’s go over this way,” suggested Ned.

“That looks as if it might be a good place for toads,” and he pointed
to where there was a clump of trees.

“Can you tell where horned toads like to stay?” asked Olivia.

“No,” replied Ned, in a low voice, “but it’s shady over there, and this
sun, beating down on the sand, is very hot. I wanted to get where it’s
cool, and, anyhow, there’s just as liable to be horned toads there as
anywhere. If he doesn’t find a toad he’ll find something else that will
make him nearly as happy, so it’s all the same.”

“Isn’t he a queer man,” said Olivia, as they followed along behind Mr.
Snodgrass, who was walking ahead, closely scanning the ground.

“He is, but he’s a good friend of ours,” replied Ned. “He is very much
in earnest over his collection of insects and reptiles, and, though he
acts queerly at times, he is one of the best men in the world.”

“I’m sure he must be,” agreed Olivia. “I like him very much. I hope he
stays a long time, and I hope you boys do also. It’s quite lonesome
here, with nothing but Mexicans and Chinese for the main part of the
population.”

“We’ll stay as long as you let us,” said Ned.

“We can have fine times,” went on the girl. “We can go boating on the
little bay, and take trips off into the country. We, ourselves, haven’t
seen much of it yet, as papa was not feeling well when we first came,
and we had to stay home and care for him. But he is better now, and we
can go on little excursions.

Ned’s harmless trick to get the party to a shady spot was successful.
The professor headed for the little clump of trees looking, the while,
for a horned toad, but he saw none of the queer creatures.

“My, but it’s hot!” exclaimed Bob, as he sat down on the ground.

“Oh, it will be worse than this, some days,” said Rose. “We are getting
used to it. But suppose we go down to the seashore? It’s not far, and
there is a very pretty view.”

“Perhaps I can get a horned toad there,” put in the professor
hopefully.

After a short rest in the shade the little party headed for the beach.
As they came in sight of it from a small hill, the boys uttered
exclamations of delight, for a beautiful expanse of water was stretched
out before them,—the Pacific ocean sparkling blue in the sun.

“Oh, for our motor boat!” exclaimed Jerry. “Oh, for the _Dartaway! _
Couldn’t we have fine sport in her, out on that bay!”

“Don’t speak of it!” said Ned with a groan.

“What, is the _Dartaway_ lost?” asked Rose.

“Gone! Busted! Smashed!” exclaimed Bob, and the boys all tried to talk
at once, telling of the disaster that had befallen their craft.

“It’s too bad,” declared Olivia. “But never mind. We have a couple of
rowboats, and maybe you can hire a little sailing skiff.”

“It wouldn’t be the _Dartaway_,” answered Bob, with a sigh. “That boat
had the nicest little kitchen in it—”

“So, that’s all you cared about her for—the kitchen—where you could
cook something to eat!” exclaimed Jerry. “Chunky, I’m ashamed of you;
that’s what I am!”

“Well, I—er—I—” began Bob. “Oh, come on,” he continued, and led the way
down to the beach, where there were some bathing pavilions and several
houses. The professor was walking along behind, in the vain hope of yet
discovering a horned toad, perhaps on its way to get a dip in the surf
or drink some salt water.

“I think you’ll like some chocolate,” said Nellie, as the boys were in
front of a little refreshment booth. “It is made by a Mexican—”

She stopped, for she saw that the boys were not listening to her. Their
attention was drawn to a man who was just coming from the place they
were going in. The boys could not help staring at him, for he was the
man who had acted so strangely in the freight depot at Cresville.




CHAPTER XIII.
A QUEER STORY


For several seconds the boys and the man stared at one another. The
stranger did not seem to be the least bit embarrassed but, on the
contrary, was smiling in a genial manner.

“Is he a friend of yours?” asked Nellie, of Jerry.

“Well, not exactly what you could call a friend,” was the answer. “We
don’t even know his name,” and he spoke in a low voice. “We saw him
back in Cresville, just before we started out west, and he was acting
in a strange manner. We thought—”

“Excuse me,” suddenly interrupted the strange man, advancing toward the
group of boys and girls, “but haven’t I seen you lads before? Your
faces are very familiar.”

“We saw you in the Cresville freight office,” declared Ned boldly.

“Exactly! I knew it was somewhere. I remember now. I was there
attending to some goods that had to be shipped in a hurry. I’m glad you
remembered me. To think that I should meet you away out here! It’s a
small world, isn’t it?” and he smiled, but there was something in his
smile, in his looks and in his manner that the boys did not like.
Neither did the girls, for, as Nellie said afterward, he acted as
though he wanted to make friends so you would not be suspicious of him.

“Shake hands, won’t you?” asked the man, advancing closer to the boys.
“My name is Carson Blowitz, and though it sounds foreign I was born in
this country. I travel around so much I can’t give you any particular
place as my residence.”

There was no way without being rude of avoiding shaking hands with the
man, and, though there was something in his manner that caused the boys
to feel a distrust of him, they were not going to be impolite on mere
suspicion.

They shook hands with Mr. Blowitz, and Jerry introduced himself, his
chums, the young ladies and Professor Snodgrass, and told, briefly, the
object of their trip.

“Well isn’t that nice, now,” said Mr. Blowitz, when Jerry had finished.
“The professor comes out here to hunt horned toads, and you lads come
to hunt adventures, Mr. Seabury comes out here in search of health and
I—well, I’m out here on a sort of hunt myself.”

“Are you interested in science?” asked Mr. Snodgrass eagerly. “Perhaps
you and I might go off together after horned toads and web-footed
lizards. Or, if you care for snakes, or insects, I think I can show you
where there are plenty.”

“No, no,” said Mr. Blowitz, with a laugh, which he tried to make sound
hearty by the mere noise of it. “No, I’m on a different sort of a
search. In fact it’s quite a queer story—perhaps you would like to hear
it. In fact, I’m hunting for a lost ship.”

“A lost ship!” exclaimed Bob.

“Well, one that was abandoned just before she sank, and that’s about
the same thing. It was abandoned quite a way out, but off this part of
the coast. There is a current setting in towards shore, at this point,
I’m told, and I thought I might get some news of her, or find some of
the wreckage floating in on the beach. That’s why you find me here.”

“What ship is it?” asked Ned, interested in spite of the aversion he
and the others felt toward Mr. Blowitz.

“It is a brig, _Rockhaven_ by name. But suppose we go inside’? It is
rather warm out here in the sun, and I’m not quite used to this climate
yet. Won’t you come in and have some chocolate with me? They have a
very nice drink in here, and I—”

“It’s my treat,” interrupted Bob.

“No; if I may be so bold as to insist, you must be my guests this
time,” went on Mr. Blowitz. “It is not often that I see lads away off
east and meet them a little later, in California, so I must have the
pleasure of their company for a little while. The young ladies too—I’m
very fond of young ladies,” and Mr. Blowitz smiled in a manner that
Rose characterized later as “ugly,” though just why she thought so she
couldn’t explain.

There was no way of getting gracefully out of the invitation, and so
the crowd of young people and the professor accompanied Mr. Blowitz
into the refreshment booth.

They went out into the shaded courtyard, where a fountain of splashing
water at least gave the effect of coolness, if it did not really make
it so. They sat at small tables, and were served with cold chocolate
and sweet cakes, by a pretty Mexican girl. Bob wanted to pay for the
treat but Mr. Blowitz would not hear of it. In fact he played the host
in such a genial way, and seemed so anxious to make every one have a
good time, that the boys were rather ashamed of their first opinion of
him.

Even Rose whispered to Bob that “he was not so bad, when you got
acquainted with him.”

“Now I suppose you would like to hear the story of the abandoning of
the brig _Rockhaven,”_ said Mr. Blowitz, and the boys nodded.

“I hope no one was drowned,” exclaimed Olivia.

“Not as far as we know,” replied Mr. Blowitz. “The whole affair is
rather mysterious, and I am seeking information about the fate of the
ship as much as anything else.”

“I would like to ask you one question,” said Professor Snodgrass, who
had been more interested in the antics of a small bug, walking on the
table, than he was in his chocolate.

“What is it?” inquired Mr. Blowitz.

“Did you, or any of your men notice whether, just before the ship sank,
that all the rats on board deserted it?” asked the scientist. “I have
often heard that rats will desert a sinking ship, and I would like to
know whether it is true. If you made any observations to that effect I
wish you would tell me about them, and I can put them into a book I am
writing about rats and mice.”

“I thought you were writing about horned toads,” said Bob.

“So I am, but this is another book. This will be in seventeen volumes,
with colored plates. I want to get all the information I can, about
rats.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t help you,” replied Mr. Blowitz. “In fact I know
little about the abandoning of the brig, except what I heard. I was not
aboard, and I don’t know whether the rats left it or not. All I know is
that the vessel is lost, and with a fortune aboard.”

“A fortune aboard?” inquired Ned.

“Yes, worth about a quarter of a million.”

“Is it gold or diamonds?” asked Rose, who was very fond of jewelry and
precious stones.

“Neither one, my dear young lady,” said Mr. Blowitz, with as happy a
smile as he could assume. “It is valuable merchandise. Of course there
was some money, and some valuable papers, but the main part of the
cargo was costly merchandise. I’ll tell you how it happened. But first,
let us have some more chocolate,” and he called to the Mexican girl
waiter.

When the cups had been filled Mr. Blowitz resumed his story.

“I am interested in many enterprises,” he said, “and I and some other
men went into a venture to ship some valuable goods to the Santa
Barbara islands, which are not far off this coast. I was the principal
owner, having bought out my partner, and it looked as if I would make a
large sum.

“The vessel sailed from San Francisco, and as the weather was fine, we
looked for a quick trip. I was attending to some of my other business
affairs, having just arrived on this coast from Boston, when I received
a telegram from the captain of the brig, telling me that she had been
abandoned with everything on board. Of course there must have been an
accident. Probably there was a collision, or fire on board, so that the
brig was in a sinking condition. At any rate the captain, and, I
suppose the crew, also, left her. That’s why I can’t tell whether they
were all saved, though I assume so, as nothing was said about any one
being lost.

“The captain, it appears, was picked up By another vessel, and landed
at a small coast town. He sent me the telegram from there, and I
forwarded him money to come to San Francisco, to meet me. But, for some
reason, he did not arrive, and so I decided to come down here, and see
if I could get any news of the ship and the valuable cargo. Of course,
if the ship sank at once that is the end of her, but, if she broke up,
there is a chance of some parts of her, and perhaps some of the cargo,
being washed ashore. At any rate I would like to get some news of her,
that I might collect the insurance, if nothing else.

“So that’s why I’m here. I arrived yesterday, but, so far, I have been
unable to obtain any news of the brig. I left word for the captain to
join me here, and he may arrive at any time. I am glad to have met you,
for it will not be so lonesome now.”

“I hope you have good luck,” said Nellie, as she arose to leave the
place. “I think we must be going now,” she added to her sisters. “Papa
might worry about us.”

“Give Mr. Seabury my regards,” said Carson Blowitz, “and tell him I
shall do myself the honor of calling on him soon, to pay my respects.
As for you young people, I shall see you again, I hope. I am going to
hire a boat and cruise about in search of my brig—if I don’t get some
news soon—and perhaps you might like to go along.”

“Perhaps,” replied Jerry, as he and his chums followed the girls out of
the place.

Mr. Blowitz remained in the courtyard, drinking chocolate, and, as the
little party was leaving Ned looked back. He saw their recent host pull
a bundle of papers from his pocket, and, spreading them on the table in
front of him, closely scan them.

“I don’t like that man,” declared Nellie, when they were out of
hearing. She was very frank in her statements.

“Neither do I,” said Jerry, “though he was nice enough to us.”

“He has a strange manner,” commented Olivia.

“And that was a queer story he told of the abandoning of the brig,”
went on Bob. “I wonder if he made it up, or if it’s true? It seems
strange that the captain would leave his ship, and not give a reason
for it.”

“There’s some mystery back of it, I think,” was the opinion of Rose.
“The less we have to do with Mr. Carson Blowitz, the better it will be,
I think.”

“Well, we’re not likely to see much of him,” said Jerry. But in this
opinion he was mistaken. They were to see and hear much of him, as
later events proved.




CHAPTER XIV.
IN A MOTOR BOAT


Several days after this, during which time the boys had, under the
escort of the three girls, visited many places of interest, Rose
suggested they make a trip on the bay.

“But what can we go in?” asked Bob. “We haven’t any boat.”

“We have several rowing skiffs,” said Nellie. “I know they are not as
fine as your _Dartaway_, but you can have a nice time. The fishing is
good, and it is very pleasant on the water.”

“It would be pleasant wherever you girls were,” said Ned, with an
attempt at gallantry.

“Thank you!” exclaimed Nellie, making a low, bow.

“You’re improving, Ned,” remarked Jeer, critically. “In time you’ll be
able to go out in polite society.”

“Oh, is that so’?” remarked Ned, sarcastically, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” retorted Jerry, bowing low.

“Oh, stow that away for use at some future time,” advised Bob. “Come
on, if we’re going out in a boat.”

There was a little wharf, at which the Seaburys kept a couple of
rowboats, and, as six were too many to go into one craft, Nellie and
Jerry occupied the smaller, while Bob and Ned, Olivia and Rose, got
into the other.

“Where shall we go?” asked Ned.

“Oh, row around anywhere,” replied Jerry. “We’ll have to get used to
oars, we haven’t handled ’em in quite a while.”

The boys soon found that the skill with which they had formerly used
the ashen blades, before the era of their motor boat, was coming back
to them, and they sent the skiffs around the bay at fairly good speed,
the two crafts keeping close together.

“This is something like work,” announced Jerry, as he rested on his
oars, and let the boat drift with the tide, which was running in.

“That’s what it is,” declared Ned. “I wish—”

“Thank you!” exclaimed Olivia. “I’m sure we’re very sorry that we have
given you so much work. We didn’t know we were so heavy; did we girls?”

“No, indeed!” chimed in Rose. “If you will kindly row us back to shore,
we’ll get out and you boys can go where you please. Work! The idea!”

“Oh, I say now!” cried Ned, alarmed at the effect of his words. “I
didn’t mean—Jerry didn’t mean—we—”

“Of course not!” added Jerry. “I only said—”

“You said it was hard work to row us around,” declared Nellie in rather
icy tones.

“Well I meant—you see since we had a motor boat—that is I—we—it’s
rather—”

“Now don’t try to get out of it and make it worse,” advised Olivia. “We
know what you said, and what you meant.”

“I didn’t say anything,” put in Bob, with an air of virtue.

“Good reason,” declared Jerry. “You’re so busy eating that cocoanut
candy that you didn’t have time to speak. Besides you’re not rowing.”

“Oh, has he got cocoanut candy!” cried Nellie. “Give me some and we’ll
forgive you for the rude way you and Ned spoke, Jerry. Won’t we girls?”

“Of course,” chorused Olivia and Rose.

“I—I didn’t know you cared for cocoanut candy,” declared Bob, rather
ashamed that he had not, before this, offered the girls some.

“Oh, don’t we though!” exclaimed Nellie. “Just you pass some over and
you’ll see, Bob,” for the two boats had drifted close together.

Bob, who had purchased a big bag full of the confection, before they
had started for the row, passed it over, and the girls helped
themselves generously.

“Take it all,” advised Ned, who, perhaps, felt a little vindictive at
Bob, because of that youth’s lucky escape from displeasing the girls by
unfortunate remarks.

“No, thank you, we don’t want to rob him,” said Olivia.

At that moment a shrill whistle sounded just behind the rowboats and
the girls turned around to see what it was. Ned and Jerry, from the
position in which they sat to handle the oars had seen a motor boat
approaching, and they had stopped using the blades to watch its
approach.

“Oh, that’s the _Ripper!”_ exclaimed Rose. “And Charlie Farson is all
alone in her. Maybe he’ll give us a ride.”

“Who is Charlie Farson?” asked Jerry of Nellie.

“He’s a friend of Rose. He lives in San Francisco, but he is staying
with his uncle at a bungalow about two miles from where we are. He owns
that motor boat, and it’s the biggest and fastest on this part of the
coast. Sometimes he takes us out with him. I hope he does so now. He’s
headed right this way.”

“Um,” grunted Jerry, not altogether pleased that a young fellow with a
motor boat should come along, and claim the girls who, of course, would
naturally prefer a power craft to one propelled by oars.

Rose waved her handkerchief and, in answer the captain of the _Ripper_
sent out three shrill blasts as a salute.

“Oh, isn’t that fine! He’s coming over here!” exclaimed Rose. “I’ll
introduce you boys to him.”

Neither Ned nor Bob looked very pleased at the prospect of meeting a
youth who might be a rival in entertaining the girls, but there was no
help for it.

On came the _Ripper_, and, as she approached, the motor boys could not
help admiring her. The craft was powerful and swift, much more so than
the _Dartaway_ had been. It was considerably larger, too, and had an
enclosed cabin.

“That’s a dandy!” exclaimed Jerry in spite of himself.

“It’s a peach!” was Ned’s half-spoken comment.

“All to the mustard!” came Bob’s characteristic comment.

“Want a ride, or a tow?” called Charlie Farson, when he got within
hailing distance, and he slowed down his craft.

“I guess we’ll ride, if you’ll tow our boats,” replied Rose, for she
knew the young fellow fairly well.

“All right, come aboard.”

By this time the _Ripper_ was quite close, and, in another moment it
had come alongside of the boat containing Rose, Olivia, Ned and Bob.

“These are some friends of ours from the east,” said Rose, introducing
Ned and Bob, “There’s another one, in that boat with Nellie,” she went
on, telling Jerry’s name.

“I’m sure I’m glad to meet you all,” said Charlie Farson, with such
good nature, that the boys could feel no resentment toward him. “Come
aboard, and we’ll go for a spin. I guess it will be best to anchor your
two boats here and you can pick them up when we come back. We can make
better time then.”

“Oh, your boat always makes good time,” complimented Nellie, as she
made her way to the cabin of the _Ripper. _ “That’s the only objection
I have. You run her so fast that if you ever hit anything it would sink
your boat before you had time to jump overboard.”

“But I’m not going to hit anything,” declared Charlie.

He tied the two rowboats together, the other boys helping him, and then
anchored them with a small, spare kedge he carried on his craft.

“All ready?” he asked, looking to see that his passengers were
comfortably seated.

“Already, Captain Charlie,” answered Rose.

“Here we go then,” and Charlie threw in the dutch of the engine, that
had not ceased working.

The _Ripper_ fairly flew away, so suddenly that Bob, who was near the
stern, nearly toppled overboard.

“Look out!” cried Charlie.

“Oh, I’m looking out now,” said Bob. “Say, but she can go!”

“Yes, she has some speed,” modestly admitted Charlie.

He turned on more gasolene and advanced the spark still further, so
that the boat increased her rate, piling up waves of white foam on
either side.

They had a fine trip about the bay, the girls and boys thoroughly
enjoying themselves, the latter being particularly interested in the
engine part of the craft. The motor boys told the other lad of the
_Dartaway_ and how the craft had been destroyed.

“My, but I certainly would like to run this boat,” announced Jerry with
a sigh. “She’s a dandy!”

“Maybe you’ll get the chance,” said Charlie.

“The chance? How? What do you mean?” asked Jerry, while his two chums
eagerly waited for Charlie’s answer.




CHAPTER XV.
CAUGHT IN THE FOG


“Well,” replied Charlie as he sent the _Ripper_ around in a big circle,
“you see it’s this way. I came down here expecting to stay with my
uncle until Spring. I was going to learn how to raise oranges. I
received word this morning that I would have to go back to my home in
San Francisco. My father needs me there, because of a change in his
business, and I’ve got to go.”

“That’s too bad!” exclaimed Rose.

“I guess you are thinking more of his motor boat than you are of
Charlie,” said Nellie, with a laugh at her sister.

“I was not!” declared Rose, indignantly.

“Well, I’ve got to leave my boat here,” went on Charlie.

“Leave it here!” repeated Olivia.

“Yes, and I’m looking for some one to take charge of it while I’m
gone.”

“Take charge of it!” exclaimed Ned and Bob at once, while a joyous look
came into Jerry’s eyes.

“What I mean,” said Charlie, “is that I would hire it out. I think that
would be a better plan than merely to loan it to some one, for there is
a chance that it might be damaged, and would have to be repaired, and,
if I got a reasonable rent for it that would cover such a mishap.”

“Would you hire it to us?” asked Jerry anxiously.

“I was thinking of that,” answered the owner of the _Ripper. _ “I heard
from my friend, Rose,” and he looked at the girl, “that you boys had
had some experience with motor boats. I had rather hire mine out to
some one who knew about machinery, than to persons who would have to
learn. So, if we can make some deal, you may have a chance to run this
boat. I’ve got to go to San Francisco in about a week.”

“We’ll take the boat,” said Jerry quickly, “that is—”

“Oh, you needn’t be afraid I’ll ask too much money for her,” interposed
Charlie. “All I want is enough to pay for any possible damages, and for
reasonable wear and tear. We’ll talk it over later.”

“Say, isn’t that glorious!” whispered Ned to Bob. “Think of having a
motor boat, and cruising on the Pacific! We’re getting to be like
Sinbad the sailor, making voyages all over.”

“Yes, but maybe he’ll want a small fortune for the hire of the
_Ripper,”_ objected Bob. “We haven’t any too much money, for this trip
was rather costly.”

“If we could get damages for the _Dartaway_, we—”

“Yes, but ‘if’ is a big word, even though it only has two letters,”
replied Bob quickly. “However, we’ll do our best to get the _Ripper_
during our stay here, and we’ll take the girls out for some nice
rides.”

“That’s what we will.”

Charlie speeded his boat about the bay for some time longer, and then;
as the girls said they thought they had better go home, he put back,
picked up the anchored boats, and the motor boys and their hosts were
soon rowing to shore.

“Come over any evening, Charlie,” called Rose.

“Yes, come to-night,” urged Jerry. “We can talk over the boat
proposition then.”

“I’ll be there,” replied the _Ripper’s_ skipper, as he put about and
went whizzing over the blue waters of the bay.

When the young people entered the gateway they saw Ponto stretched out
on the bench in the shade, fast asleep.

“Wait a minute,” said Rose. “I’ll play a trick on him.”

She stole softly up, and, with a long piece of grass tickled the old
colored servant on the ear. He put up his hand and sat up with a start.

“I ’clar’ t’ goodness!” he said, “I were jest waitin’ fo’ yo’, an’ I
close mah eyes, jest fo’ one little second, but dis atmosphere am so
slumberous dat, ’fore I knows it, I’m sort of noddin’.”

“I guess you were more than nodding,” said Olivia. “But why were you
waiting for us, Ponto?”

“’Deed an’ I didn’t no mo’ dan nod, Miss Olivia, dat’s what I didn’t.
But I’se been waitin’ heah a pow’ful long time, an’ I jest natcherly
done gone an’ fell t’ noddin’.”

“But what were you waiting for?” persisted Olivia.

“Dis letter,” replied the colored man. “Massa Seabury done tole me t’
give it t’ one ob de young gentlemen what had de motor boat. He say it
come from Cresville, an’ it might be important, so I done set heah
waitin’, but I done forgot which young gentlemen he tole me t’ gib it
to.”

“Let me see it,” said Rose, and she looked at the envelope.

“It’s for you, Jerry,” she declared, “and it’s from some railroad
company. It’s been sent on here from Cresville.”

“Maybe it’s about damages to our boat,” said Bob.

And so it proved. The letter announced that an investigation had been
made of the wreck in which the _Dartaway_ was smashed, that the claim
department of the Florida Coast Railway Company admitted their
liability, and were prepared to pay damages. They enclosed in the
letter a check for the value of the boat, as declared by Jerry at the
time of the shipment.

“Hurrah!” cried Ned. “That’s the stuff!”

“Well, it’s the end of the _Dartaway_,” observed Jerry. “Poor old boat!
I suppose we had better accept this sum, and not sue, eh?” and he
looked at his chums.

“Sure,” replied Bob. “If we sued it would take a good while to collect,
and if we got a larger sum we’d have to pay the lawyers. Let’s take
this money and hire the _Ripper.”_

“I don’t believe you’ll need all that,” interposed Rose. “That’s quite
a sum, and Charlie will surely not ask as much as that for the hire of
his boat.”

“Well, if he does we’ll pay it,” decided Jerry. “I want to cruise on
the Pacific, and this seems to be the only way we can do it. We’ll have
a motor boat trip, even of the _Dartaway_ is out of commission.”

Charlie came over to “The Next Day” bungalow that night and in a short
time he and the motor boys had arrived at a business arrangement
regarding the hiring of the _Ripper._ Charlie only asked a small sum as
rental, much less than the amount of damages received, so that the
travelers had plenty left for other purposes.

“And now the boat is yours, as long as you stay here,” said Charlie,
when the final details had been arranged. “I know you will take good
care of her.”

“Of course we will,” answered Jerry, “and, if you find, after you get
to San Francisco, that you have a chance to come back, we’ll give her
up to you.”

“There’s no such good luck as my coming back this season,” said
Charlie.

Early the next morning he brought the craft to the Seabury dock, where
it was run in the small boathouse. Then, having explained to the boys
some minor details of the engine, which was different and more powerful
than the one they were used to, Charlie took his departure, having had
another letter from his father asking him to hurry to San Francisco.

“I hope you will have a good time,” said the _Ripper’s_ owner, as he
bade the boys and girls good-bye. “Don’t get into any dangerous
adventures, especially with the girls on board.”

“We’ll not,” promised Jerry, but he did not know how soon Charlie’s
warning was to be fulfilled.

“Well, what do you girls say to a ride?” asked Jerry when Charlie had
gone, and they stood looking at the powerful boat.

“Do you think you boys can run her?” asked Nellie.

“Run her? Well, I guess we can,” declared Ned.

“Didn’t we tackle the Atlantic in the _Dartaway_, a smaller boat than
this?” asked Bob, “and isn’t the Atlantic worse than the Pacific?”

“I don’t believe it is, a bit,” said Olivia. “Everyone thinks the
Pacific ocean is very peaceful, because the name indicates that. But
old fishermen here have told me there are terrible storms, which come
up quite unexpectedly, and that at times there are dreadful fogs.”

“Well, we’re not afraid,” boasted Bob. “Are we fellows?”

“Oh, I guess we can manage to run the boat,” replied Jerry, who was
critically examining the machinery. “If you girls want to go for a
spin, I think I can guarantee to get you safely back.”

“Oh, we’re not afraid on a day like this,” replied Nellie. “There’s no
sign of a storm. Come on girls.”

She and her sisters got in, followed by Ned and Bob. Jerry was already
in the small cabin, set aside for the engineer. He was testing various
wheels and levers, seeing that the oil feed cups worked well, and
looking to the sparking system.

“All ready?” he asked.

“Let her go, Captain Jerry,” called Bob, as he cast off the lines, and
the _Ripper_, with her new commander and crew, started off.

Jerry found he could manage the engine about as well as the one that
had been in the _Dartaway. _ He soon had the motor going almost at full
speed, and the way the boat cut through the water was a revelation to
the boys. They had never ridden so fast in a motor boat before.
Straight out to sea Jerry headed the craft, and the weather was so
pleasant, the water so calm, and the sense of swift motion so
enthralling, that, before they knew it, they had gone several miles.

“Oh!” suddenly exclaimed Rose, as she came from the small cabin, and
glanced back toward the shore, “I can’t see anything.”

“It is a bit hazy,” admitted Ned.

“Must have blown up a little fog,” spoke Jerry. “I guess we’ll put
back. It didn’t look as it was going to be thick weather when we
started.”

He swung the boat around and headed for what he supposed was the shore.
As the boat speeded on the mist became thicker, until they could
scarcely see two hundred feet ahead of them.

“Better slow down; hadn’t you?” suggested Bob. “We might hit
something.”

“Yes, for goodness, sake, don’t have a collision,” begged Nellie.

“We ought to be pretty near shore,” remarked Jerry. “I’ll keep on a
little longer, and we’ll come pretty near the dock, I think.”

He tried to peer ahead into the fog, but it slowly settled down in
lazy, curling wreaths, that made it as hard to see through as though a
white blanket had been hung in front of him.

“Hark! What’s that’?” asked Olivia, holding up her hand.

Out of the mist there came the dismal clang of a bell.

“Dong! Ding! Dong!”

“A vessel!” cried Bob. “Look out, Jerry, or we’ll be run down.”

“That isn’t a vessel,” said Rose, with a worried look on her face.
“That’s the bell of the shoal buoy. We are quite a way out to sea!”

“And lost in the fog,” added Nellie.




CHAPTER XVI.
ON THE ROCKS


With a quick motion Jerry shut off the power, and the _Ripper_ drifted
through the mist, slowly losing headway. The sound of the bell became
more distinct, and in a little while something dark loomed up before
the anxious eyes of the boys and girls.

“Lookout! She’s going to hit!” cried Ned.

“That’s the buoy,” declared Nellie.

“What’s its location?” asked Jerry. “Can’t we get our bearings from
it?”

“Well, it’s about eight miles off shore, I’ve heard the fishermen say,”
replied Nellie, “and it’s about four miles down the coast from San
Felicity.”

“It doesn’t seem as if we came as far as that,” said Bob.

“This is a very fast boat,” commented Rose.

“Is the buoy anchored to rocks?” asked Ned.

“No, it’s on a dangerous shoal,” answered Olivia “But there is no harm
from that source to be feared to this boat, as it doesn’t draw much
water.”

“It ought to be easy enough to start in the right direction for San
Felicity, with this buoy to guide us,” suggested Bob. “Can’t you,
Jerry.”

“I guess so, if you think it will be safe to travel in the fog.”

“No, don’t,” urged Nellie. “I’m afraid we might have a collision. I
don’t know much about this bay, and there are dangerous places in it,
I’ve heard the fishermen say. We had better stay here until the fog
lifts.”

“That’s what I think,” agreed Rose and Olivia.

Bob and Ned, however, were for going on, but Jerry rather sided with
the girls.

“Well,” he finally said, in answer to the urging of his two chums,
“Which way would you say the dock was, Ned?”

“Off there,” and Ned pointed over the port rail.

“No, you’re wrong,” declared Bob. “It’s there,” and he indicated the
opposite direction.

“There, you see,” remarked Jerry. “It can’t be both ways. The fog has
you puzzled, just as it has me. We should have looked at the compass
when we started out. Maybe the girls can advise us.”

But they, too, were equally at loss regarding in what direction San
Felicity lay.

“We’ll have to drift around a bit,” decided Jerry. “It’s not very
pleasant, but it’s better than running any chances.”

In spite of their dismal situation the boys and girls managed to
extract a good deal of fun out of their experience. They laughed,
joked, told stories and sang songs.

“Well, well!” exclaimed Jerry, looking at his watch. “Here it is noon,
and we’re not home for dinner.”

“No, and not likely to be,” added Ned rather gloomily. “I’ll admit I’m
as bad as Bob this time. I want something to eat.”

“Do you?” asked the stout youth.

“Sure, Chunky.”

“Then, maybe you’ll quit making fun of me,” was Bob’s answer, as, from
one of the lockers he drew out a bulky package.

“What is it?” asked Jerry.

“Sandwiches and cake. I bought ’em in the little booth where we had
chocolate with Mr. Blowitz the other day. I thought we might be hungry,
so I got ’em while you were tinkering with the engine. Now, maybe you
wish I hadn’t.”

“Not a bit of it, Chunky,” declared Jerry heartily. “You’re all right!”

“It was very thoughtful to provide for us,” said Rose.

There was fresh water in a cooler, and the young people made a merry
meal. They ate everything to the last crumbs, and, as Bob said, they
could probably have gotten away with more, for the salt air gave them
good appetites.

“The fog’s lifting!” exclaimed Ned suddenly. “Now we can start for
home. I can just make out the coast.”

True enough, right ahead of them was a low, dark line.

“Well, if that isn’t queer,” remarked Bob. “I would have said the shore
was off there,” and he pointed in the opposite direction.

“I guess we must have turned around when we drifted,” said Jerry.
“We’re quite a way from the buoy now.”

Once it began to lift, the fog dispersed rapidly, and Jerry soon had
the engine going, and the boat headed for the shore. He speeded the
motor up to as high a pitch as was safe, in unfamiliar waters, and soon
the town of San Felicity came into view.

“Get near the shore,” advised Ned, “then, if the fog shuts down on us
again, we’ll know where we are.”

Jerry decided this was good advice, and steered the _Ripper_ straight
in, intending to run up along the coast to San Felicity. It was well
that he did so, for the lifting of the fog was only temporary. When
they were about a quarter of a mile from the shore the white mist
closed in again, worse than before. But Jerry had his sense of
direction now, and decided it would be safe to continue on at half
speed, as there did not appear to be any other craft in sight, when he
took a rapid survey of the bay just as the fog settled down.

Peering through the almost impenetrable white mass of vapor ahead of
him, Jerry sent the _Ripper_ slowly on her way.

“You’ll have to be careful,” cautioned Rose. “The tide is running out,
and there’s not much water along here at the ebb. I hope we don’t go
aground.”

“So do I,” answered Jerry.

Just then there was a shock, and the boat quivered, hesitated for an
instant, and then resumed her course.

“We struck bottom that time,” said Ned. “Luckily it seemed to be mud.”

“There are rocks along here,” declared Nellie. “Go slow, Jerry.”

The steersman, who could manage the boat from the engine cockpit, as
well as from the bow, further slowed down the motor, until the _Ripper_
was barely moving through the water.

Suddenly there was a grinding sound, the boat heeled over to one side,
and came to a stop.

“The rocks!” cried Rose. “We’re on the rocks!”

“Reverse!” yelled Ned, and Jerry did so, as quick as a flash, but it
was too late.

“We’re aground,” he announced grimly.

“Will we sink?” asked Olivia in alarm.

“I guess there’s no danger of that,” announced Jerry, as he went
forward, “but I hope we haven’t stove a hole in her,” he added, peering
anxiously over the side.

“How about it?” asked Ned.

“Well, it might be worse,” answered Jerry. “We have run right on the
cleft of a rock, and we’re held there. Can’t get off until high tide, I
suppose. Say, we seem to be up against it on our first trip.”

“Oh, as long as we’re not sinking we’re all right,” said Olivia. “We
can wade ashore. It’s not far.”

“Yes, it’s quite a way, and I don’t want to spoil my shoes,” objected
Nellie. “We should have brought our bathing suits. Oh, dear! Isn’t it
unfortunate? I’m afraid father will be worried about us.”

“One of us will wade or swim ashore, and tell him,” said Ned. “We can
easily do it.”

“Boat ahoy!” suddenly called a voice out of the mist. “Who are you?”

“The _Ripper_,” answered Jerry. “Who are you?”

A moment later a rowboat appeared from behind the white curtain of fog,
and the boys and girls saw that Mr. Carson Blowitz was in the craft.

“Well! Well!” he exclaimed. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?—and I’m
just in time to effect a rescue,” and he smiled at the boat load of
boys and girls.




CHAPTER XVII.
NEWS OF THE BRIG


“Oh!” exclaimed Rose, rather excitedly, “take us off please! Our boat
is sinking!”

“No, it isn’t,” declared Jerry. “We’re all right only we’re aground.
Can’t get off until high tide I suppose.”

“Then perhaps I had better take the young ladies ashore,” proposed Mr.
Blowitz. “I have a large boat here, and they will be more comfortable
than sitting there waiting for the tide to rise. Besides, you’ll heel
over quite a bit, I should judge by the way you’re listing now.”

There was no doubt of this, as the _Ripper_ was, even now, far from
being on an even keel. The boys did not relish having this man, whom
they disliked, take off the girls, but there was no help for it.

“Say, we ought to go to some kindergarten and learn to run a motor
boat,” grumbled Ned in a low voice, as the girls were getting into Mr.
Blowitz’s craft. “We’re peaches, we are!”

“It was my fault,” admitted Jerry, rather embarrassed over the
accident.

“Not in particular,” remarked Bob. “Any one of us would have done the
same thing. Lucky the boat isn’t damaged any, but I hate to be under
obligations to him,” and he nodded toward Mr. Blowitz, who was helping
Nellie into his boat. “I don’t like him,” he went on in a low voice.
“There’s something queer about him.”

“We oughtn’t to feel that way,” said Jerry. “He’s doing us a favor.”

“Of course,” admitted Bob. “I know it, and I suppose I shouldn’t feel
that way, but I do, and I can’t help it. I don’t want any favors from
him. He’s the kind, who, if he does something for you, will want you to
do twice as much for him in return.”

“Well, I’ll be more careful next time I run this motor boat,” said
Jerry. “It’s too bad.”

“Might be worse,” said Ned as cheerfully as he could.

“Don’t you want to go ashore, boys?” called Mr. Blowitz.

“I guess we’d better,” murmured Bob. “The water is quite deep except
for the place where the _Ripper_ went on the rocks.”

“The motor boat will stay there all right until high tide,” the man
went on. “Better anchor her well, however, it might come on to blow.”

Jerry attended to this, throwing over a strong anchor which was aboard.
Then the three boys joined the others in the rowboat.

“Can you find your way to shore, through this fog?” asked Rose.

“Oh, yes, we’re not far from the beach,” replied Mr. Blowitz. “I’ve
been out to see an old fisherman, on business, and I was slowly coming
back through the fog, when I saw your boat. I didn’t know you owned
that.”

“We don’t,” replied Jerry shortly, for he did not want to get too
friendly with Mr. Blowitz, even if that man did show a desire to do so.
“We hired it.”

“I thought I’d seen it in the bay before,” went on the man. “It’s a
fine boat. I suppose you could go out quite a way to sea in her.”

“You could,” said Bob. “It’s big enough to weather quite a gale, and
you could carry provisions enough for two weeks.”

“It certainly is a fine craft,” went on Mr. Blowitz, as if he was
thinking of something. “A fine craft.”

“Did you ever hear anything more of your brig, the _Rockhaven?”_ asked
Nellie.

“Yes, I did,” was the unexpected answer. “In fact that was why I went
out rowing to-day. I had a telegram from the captain of the brig last
night. It seems she did not sink as at first supposed, but is a
derelict, drifting about somewhere off this coast.”

“Has any one seen her?” asked Ned.

“Yes, the captain of a fishing smack. He was the man I went to
interview to-day. He says as he was cruising along, day before
yesterday, he sighted what he took to be a small boat. When he got
closer he saw it was an abandoned brig. From his description I knew it
was the one I was interested in.”

“But if you only got a telegram from the captain of the brig last
night, telling you it had not sunk, how did you know the fishing smack
captain had sighted her, and how did you go out to see him to-day?”
asked Jerry, for he thought there was something queer in the story Mr.
Blowitz told, while the man’s manner did not favorably impress him.

“Oh, that,” and Mr. Blowitz glanced sharply at Jerry, and then resumed
his rowing toward shore. The fog had lifted a bit, and the beach could
be made out. “Well, that was rather queer,” admitted the man, slowly,
as if searching about for a good answer. “You see I didn’t know the
fishing captain had seen the derelict. When I got the telegram, telling
me the brig was still afloat, I thought it might be a good plan to go
about among the fishermen, making inquiries.”

“And you happened to strike the right one?” asked Jerry.

“I—that is—well, I had inquired among several before I met Captain
Deckton of the smack _Sea Girl._ He saw the derelict. But I’d like to
have a talk with you boys, when you are at liberty,” added Mr. Blowitz,
quickly. “I have a proposition to make to you. I think you will be
interested.”

“Please put us ashore first, before you talk business,” begged Olivia.
“It is long past noon, and I’m afraid my father will be worried about
us.”

“We’ll land at the dock in ten minutes,” said Mr. Blowitz. “I’ll talk
to the boys later.”

“I wonder what he wants?” thought Jerry. “Something of a favor, I’ll
bet. I know his kind.”

“Let me take the oars and relieve you,” proposed Ned, who saw that the
man was having rather hard work with the boatload of young people.

“Thank you, there’s another pair in the stern, if you want to try
them,” said Mr. Blowitz, and Ned got them out. They made better time
after that, and were soon at the dock.

“We must hurry home,” said Rose.

“Perhaps you boys had rather talk with me later,” suggested Mr.
Blowitz. “There is no special hurry. Some time this afternoon will do
as well, and you might like to go home with the young ladies.”

“I guess it would be better,” decided Jerry. “Where shall we see you?”

“If you will call at the refreshment booth here about five o’clock this
evening, I’ll be taking my usual afternoon drink of chocolate there,
and I’ll be pleased to have you join me.”

“We will be here,” promised Jerry, as, with his chums, he followed the
girls along the dock and toward the bungalow.

“Why didn’t you ask him what he wanted?” inquired Ned, when they were
beyond hearing distance.

“Because, I want a chance to think some matters over,” replied Jerry.
“I believe Mr. Blowitz is up to some game, and I want to see if I can’t
discover what it is.”

“It seems a mean thing to say,” added Rose, “but I don’t like that man,
in spite of the fact that he has been kind to us. I’m sure we ought to
appreciate what he did for us to-day, in saving us a wetting, but I
can’t feel that he is sincere.”

“I, either,” admitted Olivia and Nellie, while the latter added:

“I hope you boys don’t go into any business dealings with him. Perhaps
you had better consult with my father, before you do.”

“I guess it would be a good plan,” said Jerry. “I hope Mr. Seabury will
not be angry at us for taking you out and getting fog-bound, as well as
involving you in a shipwreck.”

“Oh, no!” answered Rose with a laugh. “He knows we are all right, for
we have been on the water, more or less, all our lives. He sometimes
worries a little, but, when we get home safe, he’s so glad to see us
that he never scolds.” Nor did he this time. He inquired about the
trip, and expressed his regrets at the mishap to the _Ripper. _

“It will be all right if we don’t get a storm before high tide,” he
said. “I’ll inquire of Ponto what the weather signs are. Ponto! I say
Ponto! Where are you?”

“Comin’ Massa Seabury! I’se comin’,” answered a sleepy voice and Ponto
came from the garden to the veranda, where Mr. Seabury, his daughters
and the boys were.

“Do you think we are going to have a storm?”

“Storm? No, sah. No storm to-day.”

“How can you tell?”

“Easy, Massa Seabury. When it’s goin’ t’ storm, I cain’t never sleep
well, an’ now, I can fall asleep as easy as a baby.”

“I believe you. Well, that’s what I wanted to know. He’s a very good
weather prophet,” he added in a low voice to the boys. “I guess the
boat is safe. Have you seen Professor Snodgrass lately, Ponto?”

“Yais, sah, I done saw him ’bout half an hour ago. He were huntin’
around de’ lower end ob de garden, after some web-footed grasshoppers,
I t’ink he said.”

“Web-footed lizards,” corrected Ned.

“Yais, sah, dat’s what it were. Web-footed lizards an’ horned toads.
Golly, I hopes he don’t cotch none when I’se around!”

The boys told Mr. Seabury of Mr. Blowitz, and their host advised them
to be careful about entering into any arrangement with the man.

“I don’t know him,” he said, “but I have heard from different persons
here that there is something queer about him. However, he may only want
some favor that you can easily do.”

Shortly before five o’clock the three boys started to keep their
appointment with Carson Blowitz. Professor Snodgrass had not succeeded
in finding any horned toads, and announced his intention of making a
search near the bed of a dried-up river that evening, as he had heard
there were some there. The girls were too tired to care for further
excursions that afternoon, and they remained on the shady veranda, as
the boys started off.

“I wonder what Blowitz can want?” mused Ned, as he and his chums neared
the chocolate pavilion.

“We’ll soon know,” said Jerry.




CHAPTER XVIII.
WHAT MR. BLOWITZ WANTED


The boys found Mr. Carson Blowitz in the little courtyard of the
pavilion, calmly sipping some cold chocolate.

“Ah, you are right on time, I see,” he remarked, as pleasantly as he
could. “That’s what I like, boys. It shows your American spirit.
Bright, hustling lads, all of you. Just the kind I have been looking
for.”

“Did you want to see us on business?” asked Jerry, for he did not care
for the man’s too obvious flattery.

“Yes, I did, but first let me order some chocolate for you. It is a hot
day and you’ll feel better after it. I never talk business unless I am
eating, or drinking something like chocolate or lemonade. It calms the
nerves.”

Jerry was about to refuse, as he wanted to get the interview over with
as soon as possible, but he looked at Bob, and that youth showed an
evident desire to have some refreshment.

“Well, we’ll take a little,” Jerry said.

“I thought so. Here!” and he clapped his hands to summon the waitress,
who soon returned with some cups of cold chocolate.

“Now to business,” went on Mr. Blowitz, after a pause. “Did I
understand you to say you had hired that large motor boat?”

“We have; for several weeks,” answered Jerry, who, by consent of Ned
and Bob, had been elected spokesman.

“And do you think it could go to sea—say for a couple of weeks?”

“Yes, I think so. But did you think of hiring her from us? Because if
you did I don’t believe we can consider it, as we have no authority to
let any one but ourselves run it.”

“Oh, no, I was not thinking of running it,” declared Mr. Blowitz. “I
wouldn’t know how if I wanted to. But I was thinking I might engage the
motor boat and you with it, as a crew, to go on a cruise for me.”

“A cruise?”

“Yes, out on the Pacific, but not too far from shore, say not more than
twenty miles.”

“What for?” asked Jerry.

“To search for that derelict—the brig _Rockhaven!”_

“The _Rockhaven!”_ exclaimed Ned and Bob together.

“Yes, as I told you it has a valuable cargo aboard, and, in addition a
supply of gold, in money, and some important papers.”

“Do you think we could find her?” asked Ned.

“I think so,” answered Mr. Blowitz. “I made some particular inquiries
of the captain of the fishing smack, whom I saw to-day, and I got her
longitude and latitude, as near as he could give it to me. Of course it
would be a rather hard search, and might consume considerable time, but
I would be willing to pay for that. What I want to know is, if you boys
would care to go out in that boat, the _Ripper_, and search for the
derelict? If you find her I will pay you prize money.”

“If we found her, and she was quite a way out to sea, how would we get
her in?” asked Jerry.

“You could tow her, unless there was a bad storm. That motor boat is
very powerful.”

“Then there isn’t anyone on board now?” asked Bob.

“Not a living soul,” answered the man. “It’s queer how they came to
desert her, but I guess the captain and crew got scared and went off in
a hurry, without making a proper investigation. The brig is a small
one, and if she hit on a rock, or was in a collision, it would not take
much to knock her out.

“Now here is my proposition. You are to take the _Ripper_, get her in
good shape for the cruise, and start out. The sooner the better. I will
pay all expenses, such as for provisions and supplies. If you return
with the brig I will pay you two thousand dollars. If you don’t succeed
in finding her, after say a two weeks’ search, you are to return, and I
will pay you five hundred dollars, and all expenses. What do you say?”

“That sounds good to me,” replied Bob.

“Suppose we got the vessel, made fast to her, and started to tow her in
and had to abandon her because of a storm?” asked Jerry.

“Well, of course that might happen, though it’s not likely, for we
seldom have bad storms an this coast this time of year. Still if you
couldn’t bring the derelict in, you couldn’t that’s all. But if you
found her, you could get the papers and gold, and if you had to abandon
her, you could go back after the storm was over. I think you boys could
do what I want, and, as I say, I’m willing to pay well. I’d go with
you, of course. What do you say?”

Mr. Blowitz seemed quite anxious. In fact he was so anxious that Jerry
was suspicious.

“I wonder why he doesn’t hire some larger boat, or a small steam tug to
go for that derelict?” thought Jerry. “He could get men, who are
regularly engaged in the business of saving vessels, to go out for that
price. Why should he prefer us, when we have had no experience in that
line, and hardly know him? There is something back of all this, that he
is not telling us. I wonder what we had better do?”

“Well?” asked Mr. Blowitz, as none of the boys spoke. Ned and Bob were
waiting for Jerry to reply and the latter was turning it over in his
mind, seeking to find a reason for the strange request.

“When would we have to start?” asked Jerry, at last.

“I’d like you to go to-morrow, or the day after, at the farthest. It
would not take long to provision the boat for the cruise.”

“Will you put your offer in writing?” asked Jerry.

“In writing—why, isn’t my word good? Well, of course—Oh, I see—you
think I am a stranger here and might—Oh, well, I have no objection to
drawing up an agreement. Perhaps that will be the best way.”

Mr. Blowitz looked a little annoyed that Jerry should have suggested
such a thing, but he quickly covered his confusion by speaking rapidly.

“I’ll draw up a paper right away,” he said, taking a fountain pen from
his pocket. “I’ll have the waitress get me some blanks, and you can
have them witnessed before a notary public, if you wish.”

“There’s no hurry,” said Jerry. “Suppose you draw up the papers, and we
can meet you here to-morrow to talk things over further. I think we
should take a little time to consider this. It is rather a queer
proposition—”

“Oh, of course, I don’t want to hurry you into it,” declared Mr.
Blowitz, in rather a nervous manner. “Of course I could get some other
boat and a regular crew, but I saw you boys, and I took a liking to
you. I thought you might like to earn some money and, if you have good
luck, it oughtn’t to be hard work.”

“Oh, we’d like the money all right enough,” interposed Bob.

“We’ll think it over,” put in Jerry quickly, for he was afraid Ned or
Bob might say something that would commit them. “We’ll meet you here
to-morrow at ten o’clock and you can have the papers with you.”

“All right,” agreed the man, and Jerry thought he seemed disappointed
that the matter was not settled at once. “Don’t forget now,” he urged
them, as they left the pavilion, Mr. Blowitz remaining there to drink
more chocolate.

“Why didn’t you agree to it, Jerry?” asked Bob, when they were outside.
“That would be a swell cruise. Just the thing! And think of getting two
thousand dollars!”

“That’s just it,” replied Jerry. “We want time to think it over, and I
guess we had better tell Mr. Seabury. Boys, I believe there is
something wrong back of all this, and we don’t want to run into
danger.”

“Danger!” exclaimed Ned. “Do you think there is danger?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to be on the safe side. I don’t like Mr.
Blowitz, but he may be all right. If we find he is, and Mr. Seabury
advises it, we’ll go on that cruise, and try to find the derelict. I
asked him to make out the papers so we could have a chance to consider
it.”

“Well, maybe you’re right,” admitted Ned. “But I do hope it’s all
right. It would be great, to take a voyage on the Pacific in the
_Ripper.”_

The boys hurried back to the bungalow, intending to tell Mr. Seabury
the result of their talk with Mr. Blowitz before mentioning it to the
girls.

“Father has gone out,” said Rose. “He has gone to dine with a friend,
and he’ll not be back until late to-night. We’ll have supper together,
and go for a trip on the bay. It’s going to be a nice moonlight night.”

“The very thing!” exclaimed Ned. “But we must see to the _Ripper. _
She’s on the rocks yet.”

“That’s so,” exclaimed Jerry. “I nearly forgot about her. Bob and I
will get her and take her to the dock. She must be afloat by now.”

“It’s almost supper-time,” said Nellie, “hurry back.”

“Oh—it’s near supper-time, is it?” asked Bob, with a woe-begone look on
his face. “I—er—”

“Come on, Ned,” called Jerry. “Bob’s afraid he’ll get left on the
eating proposition. You come with me.”

Ned and Jerry rowed out to the motor boat. They found her floated, and
riding easily, and, after towing her to the dock, they returned to the
house. Partaking of a hasty supper the young folks, leaving Ponto and
the servant in the bungalow, went down to the beach, and started for a
moonlight ride in the _Ripper. _




CHAPTER XIX.
A CRY FOR HELP


“Isn’t this perfectly delightful,” remarked Nellie, as she reclined on
some cushions in the little cabin. “I just love to be on the water!”

“Well, it’s better than being out in the fog,” admitted Jerry, as he
adjusted the oil feed on the engine, and glanced over the moonlit
waves.

“There don’t seem to be many boats out tonight,” observed Olivia.

“Maybe the owners are afraid of a storm,” suggested Rose. “Sometimes a
storm will follow a fog. I wonder if it’s safe for us to go out?”

“We’re not going far, and we’ll keep near shore,” replied Jerry. “It
does act as if it was going to blow a bit, but I guess it will not
amount to much.”

There was quite a swell on as they got further out, and the _Ripper_
rolled some, but the boys and girls were too good sailors to mind that.

“I wonder if we’ll meet Mr. Blowitz again,” came from Nellie, after a
period of silence. “He’s always turning up most unexpectedly.”

“I don’t believe we’ll see him to-night,” said Ned. “What do you think
he wanted of us? Shall I tell ’em, Jerry?”

“Might as well, I’m going to tell Mr. Seabury as soon as I see him.”

Thereupon Ned related the interview with Carson Blowitz, and the
latter’s desire to have the boys search for the derelict _Rockhaven. _

“I hope you don’t go,” spoke Nellie.

“Why not?” asked Bob.

“Because—well, because,” and she laughed a little uneasily.

“That’s just like a girl,” remarked Jerry, good-naturedly. “They don’t
want you to do a thing, but they can’t tell you why.”

“Well, it’s just an uneasy feeling I have toward Mr. Blowitz, that’s
all,” went on Nellie. “I can’t explain it, but I feel, whenever I am
near him, that he is planning something mean, or that he is up to some
trick.”

“Well, it’s just how I feel,” declared Rose, and Olivia admitted that
she, too, did not trust the man.

“Well, we haven’t decided to go,” said Jerry, “and we’re going to have
a talk with your father about it. I admit I’d like to make the trip and
find the brig, but, as you say, I don’t quite trust Blowitz.”

“Oh!” suddenly exclaimed Rose, as a wave, larger than any that had
preceded it, sent a shower of spray over the boat. “Don’t go out any
farther, Jerry. It’s getting quite rough.”

“Yes, I guess it is,” admitted the steersman, as he put the boat about.
“There’s quite a swell on. Wouldn’t wonder but we’d have a storm by
morning, though it’s bright enough overhead. I don’t believe Ponto is a
good prophet.”

There were only a few clouds in the sky, and the moon was shining down
like a big silver disk, making objects unusually bright, for the
southern moonlight is wonderful.

Jerry put the boat over near shore, and steered along the coast, which,
at that point was quite rocky, cliffs rising here and there to a
considerable height above the water.

“Look out you don’t run her on the rocks again,” cautioned Ned.

“I’ll be careful,” replied Jerry. “Maybe you want to run her a while. I
don’t want to be the whole show.”

Ned was glad of the chance to take the wheel, and he and Jerry changed
places. They were proceeding at slow speed, the girls occasionally
humming the chorus of a song, and the boys joining in when they knew
the air. The beauty of the night, the fine boat, and delight of moving
along with scarcely a sound, had them all under a sort of magic spell,
and they felt they could thus go on forever.

It was when they came opposite a range of low cliffs, close to the
water’s edge, that Bob suddenly called out in a low voice:

“Look at the men on the rocks!”

“Where?” asked Jerry.

“Over there,” and Bob pointed. Ned steered the boat nearer to where two
black figures, sharply outlined in the moonlight, could be seen in bold
relief on the cliff.

“They are men, sure enough,” replied Jerry, “but you needn’t get
excited over it.”

“I’m not,” went on Bob. “Only one of them is Mr. Blowitz, that’s all.”

“Mr. Blowitz?” queried Jerry sharply.

“Hush! He’ll hear you,” cautioned Rose. “Sounds carry very easily over
water.”

“It is Mr. Blowitz,” admitted Jerry. “I wonder what he’s doing out
here.”

“Probably getting some more information about the brig _Rockhaven,”_
suggested Ned. “Maybe that’s a seaman who has some news of her.”

By this time the motor boat was quite close to the two men, who,
however, did not seem to notice the _Ripper. _ There was no question
about the identity of Mr. Blowitz. The other man was a stranger to the
boys and girls. The two were apparently talking earnestly, and,
occasionally Mr. Blowitz could be seen to be gesticulating violently.

“He’s mad about something,” declared Ned.

“It does look so,” agreed Rose.

All at once the boys saw Blowitz take a step toward the other man, who
retreated, as if afraid. Blowitz raised his hand as though to give a
blow.

“Look out!” cried Ned involuntarily, as if the man could hear him.
“You’ll go over the cliff!”

With a quick motion he turned the boat, steering toward the foot of the
rock, above which the men stood.

At that instant a black cloud came over the moon and the scene was
plunged in darkness. It was just as if it had been blotted out, and a
murmur of surprise, at the suddenness of it, came from those in the
_Ripper. _

At the same instant a cry rang out—a man’s cry—and it seemed to be one
for help.




CHAPTER XX.
BLOWITZ IS ANGRY


“Quick!” called Jerry. “Put us over there, Ned!”

“I will! Something has happened. I wonder—”

“Oh, why doesn’t the moon come out from behind that cloud,” exclaimed
Rose, for she and the other girls were nervously afraid.

“Maybe they have both toppled over the cliff,” suggested Nellie.

“More likely only one of them did,” said Bob. “I only heard one cry.
What’s the matter, Ned?”

“Something’s gone wrong with the engine.”

“Here, let me have a look,” called Jerry, and he went to the cockpit.

There was a lantern aboard, and, by the light of it, Jerry saw that one
of the battery wires, leading to a spark plug, had become loosened,
breaking the circuit, and preventing the gas from exploding in the
cylinders. He soon had it fixed and the engine started, sending the
boat toward shore.

By this time the moon was out again, flooding the scene with radiance.
Eagerly the boys and girls looked toward the spot on the cliffs, where
the odd scene had taken place. To their surprise they saw Mr. Blowitz
standing there, and they were close enough to note that he was smoking
a cigar.

“Well!” exclaimed Nellie, for that was all she could say, so great was
her astonishment.

“Guess nothing happened after all,” added Ned. “We have had our fright
for nothing.”

“There certainly was another man there,” declared Jerry, “and he’s gone
now.”

“And I’m certain I heard a cry for help,” said Bob.

“We all heard a cry,” admitted Jerry, “but it might have been a call
for a boatman, or something like that. However—”

He did not finish what he was going to say for, at that instant,
Blowitz heard the noise of the approaching motor boat. The muffler. was
not working just right, and the usually noiseless engine of the
_Ripper_ was making quite a fuss. Blowitz was in a listening attitude,
standing in bold relief in the moonlight, and, having, apparently,
satisfied himself as to where the boat was, he started to descend the
cliff.

“He’s coming down,” said Ned.

“Is that the _Ripper?”_ called Blowitz suddenly.

“Yes,” replied Jerry, wondering how the man knew.

“I thought I recognized her engine. Are you coming ashore? If you are,
I’d like to speak to you.”

“We’re coming,” answered Ned.

“Don’t come too close then, for there are dangerous rocks. Make for
that little point up there,” and the man pointed so that the boys could
see where he meant. “There’s deep water right up to the edge. It’s a
sort of natural dock, but go slow. I’ll meet you there, I want to tell
you something.”

“Shall we ask him about the man?” inquired Bob in a low voice.

“No, don’t,” advised Nellie quickly. “It might make trouble. See what
he has to say, and then let’s hurry home. I’m afraid of him.”

“What? With we three aboard?” asked Jerry with a little laugh. “We are
complimented.”

“Oh, I don’t mean that,” Nellie hastened to say. “I mean that Mr.
Blowitz is a dangerous man.”

She spoke low for she did not want him to hear her, and they were quite
near to shore now.

Ned steered for the little point of land, and found he could send the
boat quite close with no danger of hitting the rocks. Presently
Blowitz, who had momentarily vanished amid the shadows at the foot of
the cliff, appeared.

“Good evening, boys,” he said. “I—” he stopped suddenly, “I didn’t know
you had young ladies aboard.”

“Yes, we have been taking a moonlight run,” Jerry explained. “We saw
you up there on the cliff, and—”

“I was there with a friend of mine,” Blowitz spoke quickly. “We were
talking about the derelict brig. I was to meet a sea captain there, but
he did not come. My friend had to leave in a hurry, and just then I
heard the noise made by your boat, so I called to you. Did you hear a
call?”

“We heard some sort of a call,” spoke up Bob, “but we thought it was—”

“That was me,” interrupted Blowitz, “I recognized the _Ripper_ by the
peculiar sound of the exhaust. I have quite a trick of recognizing
boats that way. I was afraid you’d get past, so I called. But I didn’t
know you had the young ladies with you, or I would not have bothered
you.”

“That’s all right,” said Jerry. “We were coming ashore anyhow.”

“You were? What for?” and Blowitz looked sharply at the boys. “Oh, I
suppose you saw me and wanted to tell me you would accept my offer—but
excuse me, perhaps the young ladies—”

“Oh, we have told them of it,” answered Ned. “You can speak before
them.”

“All right then. I was going to say perhaps you came in after seeing
me, to tell me you had accepted my offer and would search for the
derelict. Is that it?”

“Well, we hadn’t quite decided,” replied Jerry.

“What! Not decided!” exclaimed Blowitz. “Why I want you to start at
once—or—that is—to-morrow morning. I have just received news that makes
it important that the search begin at once. I am depending on you. You
will go at once, won’t you? Come, I’ll increase my offer,” he said.
“I’ll pay you two thousand dollars for your time and trouble, stand all
expenses, and, if you find the brig, and tow her in, I’ll give you
three thousand dollars. That’s a fair offer. Now you can start
to-morrow morning, can’t you, boys?”

“I don’t know,” began Jerry, slowly.

“Isn’t that money enough?” and Blowitz seemed much excited.

“Oh, yes, the offer is a very good one. But I think we should consult
with some one—We—”

“No, there is no need of consulting with any one,” interrupted Blowitz.
“I have the papers all made out. We can go before a notary-public
to-night, for it is not late yet, and sign them, and you can start by
to-morrow noon. What do you say? Will you go?”

It was a hard question to decide. The trip was alluring to the boys,
even had there been no prize money connected with it. But there was
something about Blowitz that made them hesitate. His very eagerness to
have them start, almost at once, made them feel there was something
queer back of it all. Still they had undertaken, before this, more
difficult and risky tasks. Why not this one?

“Well, I must have your answer soon,” said Blowitz, approaching nearer
to the boat.

“Will you wait just a moment?” asked Jerry. “My chums and I will go in
the cabin and talk it over. We’ll let you know right away.”

“I’ll wait five minutes,” said the man. “Time is precious to me. I have
lots to do. But I know you’ll go. I’ll raise the offer five hundred
dollars. Now, that’s the best I can do. But you must start as soon as
possible to-morrow.”

“Come in here,” called Jerry to his chums, entering the small cabin,
where the three girls had already gone as they did not wish to seem to
listen to the talk between Blowitz and the boys.

Jerry closed the sliding doors, and, by the light of a small lantern
which hung from the cabin ceiling, looked at his companions. Outside
they could hear Blowitz pacing up and down on the rocky shore.

“Well, what do you fellows say?” he asked.

“I’d like the trip,” said Ned, wistfully.

“The money is a large sum,” added Bob.

“Then you want to go?” asked Jerry. “I’ll do just what ever you do.
I’ll tell him we’ll go.”

“No! Don’t!” cried Nellie in a tense whisper. “Jerry—boys—don’t have
anything to do with this man. He may be all right, but there’s
something mysterious about him. Why should he want to hire you when,
for the same money, or less, he could get a company of fishermen, who
know these waters well, to make the search? Take a girl’s reason, for
once, and don’t have anything to do with him!”

She had risen to her feet, her eyes were flashing and her cheeks
flushed with the excitement of the moment. The boys looked at her in
admiration.

“I admit there is something queer in his offering to increase the prize
money,” spoke Jerry, after a pause. “He must be very desperate.”

“And why this sudden rush?” inquired Ned. “This afternoon he was in no
such hurry. Something must have occurred in the meanwhile—I wonder if
it was the man on the cliff—”

“Now don’t let’s go to guessing at too much,” cautioned Jerry. “The
question to be settled now is: Do you want to go on a search for the
derelict brig? Yes or no? That’s what we’ve got to settle now.”

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the tick of the clock in
the cabin. Involuntarily Nellie glanced at it. The hands pointed to the
hour of nine, and she felt that she and her sisters should be home.
Jerry looked at his two companions.

“I guess we’d better not go,” said Bob slowly.

“I hate to give it up, but maybe it will be for the best,” added Ned.
“I’m suspicious of him. Tell him we’ll not go, Jerry.”

“Very well.”

Jerry stepped to the cabin door and slid it back. At the sound Blowitz
came eagerly forward.

“Well?” he queried. “Are you going? Can you start at once’?”

“We have decided not to go,” replied Jerry, slowly. “I—that is my chums
and I—do not feel just right about it. It is not our boat, and—”

He hesitated, for he did not want to give the main reasons that had
influenced him and his chums. But Blowitz did not give him a chance to
continue.

“Not go!” the man fairly cried. “Why I’m surprised at you! You led me
to believe, all along, that you would go. Here I’ve gone and wasted a
lot of time on you, gone to a lot of trouble, made all my arrangements,
expecting you would go, and—”

“We never gave you any reason to think we would go,” declared Jerry
very positively. “You are wrong, there, Mr. Blowitz. We only said we
would consider it. We have done so, and have concluded not to go. I am
sorry—”

“Sorry? You’ll be sorrier than this before I’m through with you!”
threatened the man. “You’ll wish you had gone before very long, let me
tell you. You’ve spoiled all my plans. I depended—Oh! I’ll get even
with you for this!” and the man, in a fury threw his cigar down on the
rocks, whence it bounded up amid a shower of sparks. “You’ll regret
this!” he cried in angry tones, as he turned away and started off up
the cliff, muttering to himself.

“You’ve made him mad,” said Bob.

“Can’t help it,” replied Jerry. “I’m glad we are not going to have
anything to do with him. I believe he is a dangerous person. Certainly
he had no right to talk about us as he did.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re not going!” exclaimed Nellie, as she and her
sisters came out of the cabin. “I was afraid you would give in when he
got so angry. But let’s get away from here. Somehow, I don’t like this
place. Besides we should have been home some time ago. Papa may have
returned, and we always try to be in before ten o’clock. We’ll hardly
get home by that time now.”

“Yes, we will,” said Ned. “I’ll send the _Ripper_ along at a good
clip.”

He started the engine, and, as the boat swung out from beside the rock
dock, the form of Blowitz could be seen going up the cliff in the
moonlight. In less than an hour the boat was at San Felicity and the
girls were put ashore. They found Ponto down at the dock to meet them.

“Massa Seabury done got worried after he got home,” said the colored
man, “an’ he sent me to see if yo’ was heah.”

“Ponto,” asked Jerry, “do you think you can take the young ladies
safely home, without falling asleep?”

“Suttinly I can,” Massa Jerry. “Fall asleep! I gess I doan’t fall
asleep at night. I’se only sleepy when de sun shines, I is.”

“Then I guess you’ll do all right. See that they get home safe.”

“Why, aren’t you boys coming too?” asked Nellie, in some surprise.

“Not now,” replied Jerry.

“Why not?”

“I think we’ll go back to the foot of the cliffs and see if we can’t
find the man to whom Blowitz was talking. I don’t like the way he
acted, for that certainly was a cry for help, and there may have been
foul play!”




CHAPTER XXI.
THE MAN ON THE ROCKS


Jerry’s announcement was news to his chums, for he had given them no
hint of his intentions as the _Ripper_ was nearing the boathouse.

“Do you mean you are going to hunt for that man on the rocks?” asked
Ned.

“Yes, I think he fell; or was pushed over by Blowitz. There was no
mistaking that call for help. Blowitz says it was he who called to us,
but I know better. That was a cry of fear.”

“Oh, don’t get into any danger,” cautioned Nellie. “Maybe you had
better take Ponto with you. We’re not afraid to go home alone. It’s
nice and bright, and there is no danger.”

“Deed an’ there be, Miss Nellie,” interrupted Ponto, who did not relish
going off on a strange hunt with the boys. “Some ob dem horned toads
might git after yo’, an’ if Ponto wasn’t along dey’d bite you. I
shorely am gwine home wid yo’. Massa Seabury, he done ’specially
stipulate it, an—”

“Yes, I guess Ponto had better go with you,” said Jerry. “We can do
better alone. It won’t be the first time we’ve had a midnight hunt,
though never before one just like this. We’ll come back as soon as we
can, and tell you all about it. We can make quick time in the boat.”

“And, if you find the man?” asked Rose.

“If we do, and he needs help, we’ll see that he gets it; I think if we
do find him we’ll learn more about Mr. Carson Blowitz than we know
now.”

“Shall I tell my father?” asked Nellie, as the boys were preparing to
make the return trip. The dock was deserted, save for the young people
and Ponto, but in the chocolate refreshment place, and other booths on
shore there was plenty of life.

“I think it would be a good plan,” agreed Jerry. “You know the whole
story, about the brig and the offer Blowitz made. Tell Mr. Seabury that
we would have consulted him before, only he was out when we got back
this afternoon. Now, Ponto, lookout that no horned toads or web-footed
lizards get the young ladies, and, above all, don’t lie down alongside
the road and take a nap.”

“Hu! Guess I ain’t gwine t’ sleep when I’s ’scortin my massa’s
daughters home,” declared the colored man, rather indignant that such a
slur should be cast on him.

“Don’t worry,” called Jerry, as the girls walked along the dock to
shore. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Do you really think we’ll find anything?” asked Ned of Jerry when they
were some distance out, and speeding along toward where they had seen
Blowitz and the other man on the cliff.

“I don’t know,” Jerry frankly admitted. “It looks suspicious, and the
way Blowitz acted made it more so. Maybe the shadows deceived us, and
the man did not fall, for the cloud over the moon made things black.
But it will do no harm to take a look, and then we’ll be satisfied.”

“If we find him, what will we do with him?” asked Bob, who had a habit
of looking ahead.

“Let’s find him first,” said Jerry. “Maybe it is some man who works for
Blowitz, and who would not do just as his boss wanted him to. Blowitz
can get angry very easily, as was proved by his actions when we refused
to make that trip. Maybe he hit the man in a fit of passion, and the
man cried out in surprise, and ran away.”

The sky was more cloudy now, and the moon was oftener obscured by
masses of dark vapor. Still, there was light enough for the boys to
make out landmarks, and distinguish objects when they came near the low
cliff, on which they had seen Blowitz and the other man.

“There’s the place,” called Ned suddenly, from his position near the
wheel.

“That’s right,” admitted Jerry. “Better put us in near that rock where
we talked to Blowitz. We can fasten the boat there and go ashore.
There’s no swell in here.”

In a short time the three boys were on the rocky shore. Jerry carried a
lantern and Ned had a coil of rope, as he thought if the man had fallen
over a cliff, and was unable to help himself, they might need a line to
hoist him up.

“Go easy now,” cautioned Jerry, as they moved forward. “We don’t want
to send out notice that we have arrived. Blowitz may still be sneaking
around.”

As cautiously as possible they advanced. They found there was a rough
path leading from the beach up the cliff, on top of which the two men
had stood. With Jerry, holding the lantern to guide them, Ned and Bob
followed. They paused now and then to listen, but the only sound they
heard was caused by the waves of the Pacific breaking on the rocky
shore, the rattle of the pebbles on the beach, and the soft swish of
the seaweed.

“It was right over there that he seemed to fall,” said Ned, pointing to
indicate where he meant.

“That’s where I made it out to be,” agreed Jerry.

It was not easy walking, as the rocks were slippery, and some of them
were thick with weeds, for, at very high water, they, were covered by
the ocean. Several times Bob slipped and nearly fell.

“Look out,” cautioned Jerry. “We don’t want two wounded persons to look
after.”

They paused a moment to get their breath, after a stiff bit of
climbing, and, as they stood there in the silence of the night, with
the moon fitfully showing through the clouds, they suddenly heard a
groan.

“What’s that?” whispered Ned, tensely.

“It must be the man we’re looking for,” replied Jerry. “He’s hurt.
Where did the sound come from?”

Ned pointed to a dark spot at the foot of the cliff. The three boys
hastened toward it, Jerry flashing his lantern.

When they got to the place they saw, lying huddled up on a bed of
seaweed, the form of a man.

As the light flashed on him they noticed that there was blood on his
pale face, and one arm was doubled up under him in a strange manner.

“He’s dead!” whispered Bob softly.

“No; he’s breathing,” answered Jerry, as he bent over the man on the
rocks. “Get me some water in your cap, Ned. I’ll try to bring him to.”




CHAPTER XXII.
DE VERE’S STORY


Ned ran down to the shore, slipping and stumbling over the rocks, and
once falling and bruising himself considerably. But he did not mind
this. He wanted to get the water, for it might save the man’s life. It
looked as if some crime had been attempted, and evidence pointed to
Blowitz.

Making as quick progress on the return trip as the carrying of a cap
full of sea water would permit, Ned held it so Jerry could sprinkle
some drops on the man’s face. He stirred and seemed to be murmuring
something.

“We ought to have some fresh water for him to drink,” said Bob. “I’ll
get some from the cooler on the boat.”

Off he hurried, returning presently with a pitcherful of fresh water
and a glass, and with this the man was given a drink, when Jerry held
up his head.

The water seemed the very thing needed for the sufferer, as they could
see by the light of the lantern, opened his eyes, and gazed wonderingly
about him.

“What—where am I?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper.

“You’re at the foot of the rocks—on the cliff near the ocean,” said
Jerry. “You had a fall. Are you badly hurt?”

The man groaned in reply. Then an angry, light shone in his eyes.

“No! I didn’t fall!” he exclaimed. “I was shoved over the cliff. He
wanted to get me out of the way so he could claim everything! He’s a
villain!”

“Who?” asked Ned quickly.

“Who? Who else but Carson Blowitz! I suppose he thinks I am dead, and
he can have all that is on the ship! But I’ll—”

The man stopped suddenly, and a spasm of pain passed over his face.

“What is it?” asked Jerry.

“My arm—Oh, I’m afraid it is broken!”

The boys remembered how the left arm of the man was doubled up under
him in a peculiar manner. He had doubtless fallen on it.

“Wait a minute and we’ll lift you up so that you will rest more
comfortably,” said Jerry, and, with the aid of his chums he made from
their coats and some seaweed a rude sort of bed for the man.

There was no doubt that the stranger’s left arm was broken. It hung
limply down, and the least motion of it produced terrible pain.
Fortunately the man did not again lose his senses, and he directed the
boys how to bandage the arm close to his side, with their handkerchiefs
tied together, so that the injured member would not swing about, and
further splinter the broken bones.

“Do you think you can walk down to our boat?” asked Jerry. “We can take
you to a doctor, for I think you need one.”

“Need one? I should say I did,” replied the man. “It is a wonder I was
not killed by that fall. I’m afraid my ankle is sprained, but, after I
rest a bit, and get over this dizzy feeling, I’ll try to walk to the
boat. It’s lucky you boys happened to come along, just when you did.”

“We didn’t ‘happen’ to come along,” said Jerry. “We were looking for
you.”

“Looking for me’?”

“Yes, we saw you and Blowitz talking on the cliffs in the moonlight,
and then we saw you disappear. We thought it was queer at the time,”
and Jerry related the subsequent events.

“I’m glad you witnessed that,” said the man, when Jerry had finished.
“This will be additional evidence against that scoundrel who intends to
rob me, and who tried to get me out of his way. However my time of
reckoning will come. But would you mind telling me your names?”

Jerry introduced himself and his companions, briefly, telling the
reasons for their presence in California.

“My name is De Vere,” said the man. “Maurice De Vere. I was in
partnership with Blowitz, in several ventures, including the one in
which a brig named the _Rockhaven_ is concerned.”

“Are you interested in that?” asked Jerry eagerly. “Why that is the
derelict Blowitz wanted us to go in search of in the motor boat.”

“He did? Now I understand why he wanted to get me out of the way!”
cried Maurice De Vere, quickly. “He was afraid I would meet you boys.”

“Yes, and that’s why he was in such a hurry for us to start,” added
Ned, and they told of their dealings with Blowitz, and his anger at
their refusal to take part in his schemes.

“I can’t be thankful enough to you boys,” said the wounded man. “I
don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t happened to have
seen Blowitz push me from the cliff. I—I wish—”

Mr. De Vere seemed overcome by a sudden weakness, and fell back on the
pile of coats and seaweed.

“We had better get him to a doctor,” said Ned. “He may be more injured
than we suppose.”

“I—I’ll be all right in a little while—that is all but my arm,” said
the injured man faintly. “It was just a little weakness. If you will
give me some more water—”

They gave him some and he seemed to feel better after that. Then he
tried to rise, but he had to fall back again.

“My ankle—I think it’s sprained,” he said.

“Then let us carry you to the boat,” suggested Jerry.

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“Well, we can try.”

They did, but it was hard work. By dint of carefully picking their
steps over the rocks, however, the three boys finally managed to get
Mr. De Vere into the cabin of the _Ripper_, where they made him
comfortable on the cushions.

“Now speed her up for the doctor’s,” said Jerry to Ned, who had taken
charge of the engine. “That is if you know where to find one.”

“There is a physician whom I know, not far from the main wharf at San
Felicity,” said Maurice De Vere. “If you run the boat there I can get
into a carriage and drive right to his house. Then after he has set my
arm, I should like to tell you my story. That is, if you care to
listen.”

“We certainly do,” said Jerry. “We will be very glad to help you in any
way that we can.”

“Will you?” asked the man eagerly. “Then, perhaps, I can get ahead of
Blowitz after all.”

Quick time was made to the dock, and, though it was quite late, the
boys found several public hackmen on hand. Mr. De Vere was put in one
of the vehicles and driven to the doctor’s office, whither, after they
had secured their boat, the boys followed.

It took a little time to set the broken arm, and, after some
restoratives had been administered, and the sprained ankle, bandaged
(though that hurt was not as severe as at first supposed) Mr. De Vere
received the boys in his room, which his friend, the physician had
provided.

“I do not want to detain you boys too long,” he said, “and it is not
necessary to go into all the details of my story now. I will tell you a
little of it, and then I have a request to make of you. I have been
making plans while the doctor was working over me. It helped me to
forget the pain.”

“We’ll do anything we can for you,” promised Jerry, and the other boys
nodded in assent.

“Well, Blowitz and I have been associated in many enterprises,” said
Mr. De Vere, “but, of late, I have had my suspicions of him. I began to
fear he was trying to get the best of me, so that he would control all
the interests. Now I am sure of it.

“We went equal shares in loading the brig _Rockhaven_ with valuable
merchandise, for trade among the Santa Barbara Islands. There was also,
aboard the brig, some valuable papers, and a considerable sum in gold,
that was to go to a client of ours. After the ship was loaded I learned
that Blowitz sent some mysterious boxes aboard. They came from Boston,
I understand. I—”

“Those are the boxes we saw in Cresville!” exclaimed Bob.

“What’s that?” asked Mr. De Vere, and the boys explained the curious
actions of Blowitz in connection with the boxes.

“Very likely they were the same,” said Mr. De Vere. “What they
contained I do not know, but I—”

“Excuse me for interrupting you,” said Jerry, “but I think at least one
of the boxes contained something poisonous,” and he related how the
dog, in the Cresville freight station, had been affected by smelling at
the broken package.

“That’s it!” suddenly exclaimed Mr. De Vere, after a moment’s thought.
“I see it all now. I can understand his actions. But I will explain
later, for I want to be very sure of my facts. At any rate, not to
burden you with too many details, after the brig had sailed, Blowitz
wanted to purchase my interest in her. As he offered me a large sum I
consented, and I transferred all my rights to him.

“As soon as I had done so he left town, and then I learned that he had
cheated me, for he had pretended to give me certain property for my
share in the ship, and this property he gave me was utterly worthless.
I then considered the deal off, and I knew that I still had a right to
my half of the ship and the cargo. But, more than this, I also learned
that Blowitz had cheated me in another way, by taking property and
money that belonged to me. I consulted my lawyers, and they told me I
had a right to the entire ship _Rockhaven_ and all that it contained. I
am the sole owner, and Blowitz has no right to the brig nor anything on
it. It is all mine, though he is trying to get it.

“This all happened before the brig was abandoned and became a derelict,
but I can’t understand how that happened, as she was a very stout
vessel, though small. There has been no collision, as far as I can
learn. It is all something of a mystery, but I am going to solve it. As
soon as I learned what a scoundrel Blowitz was, and of the wrecking of
the brig, or, at least, the reported wrecking of it, I came here for
further news.

“When I met Blowitz I accused him of cheating me, and I claimed the
brig, when she should be found. He wanted to argue with me, and talked
of seeing lawyers, but I knew I was right. Then he asked me to meet him
on the clips to-night, to talk matters over. He said we might get some
news of the ship from the captain of a fishing smack.

“Rather foolishly I consented to meet him, and talk the thing over. We
quarreled, and he attacked me, with what result you saw. He pushed me
over the cliff, and fled, leaving me, I suppose he thought, for dead.

“Now what I am going to ask of you boys is this: Will you go with me in
your motor boat and search for the brig? Wait; do not give me an answer
now. I think I can prove to you that I have a right to the abandoned
ship, and I will pay you well for your time and trouble. Better than
Blowitz offered to. But do not decide in a hurry. I must get in a
little better shape myself, and then I have some arrangements to make.
But I hope you will decide to go. Of course, if you don’t care to, I
can hire some one else, but I would rather have you boys. Now you can
go home and think it over, and let me know at your leisure.”

The boys did not know what to say. Events had happened so rapidly that
they did not exactly understand all of them. They realized, however,
that they had another chance to go on a cruise on the Pacific, in the
_Ripper_, and they felt that they ought to take advantage of it, and
aid Mr. De Vere.

“I think I shall have to break up this little party,” said the
physician, coming in just then. “I can’t have my patient getting a
fever. You boys will excuse me, I know, if I ask you to let him get
some rest now.”

“That’s all right,” spoke Jerry. “We’ll see you to-morrow, Mr. De
Vere.”

“Very well,” was the answer, and the boys left the injured man to the
care of the doctor.

“Well, what do you think of that?” asked Ned, as he and his chums were
on their way to the Seabury bungalow. “Isn’t it simply great?”

“Great? It’s immense!” exclaimed Bob. “We’re going, aren’t we, Jerry?”

“If you fellows say so, and outvote me, I suppose you are.”

“But you want to go, don’t you, Jerry?”

“I didn’t say I did not. I think we have a different man to deal with,
in this Mr. De Vere, than we had in Blowitz. I think we shall go
derelict hunting, boys.”

“And maybe we’ll not have sport!” exclaimed Ned.

They were soon within sight of the bungalow. The storm clouds had
continued to gather, and the moon only shone at brief intervals. The
wind was blowing considerable, and there was every evidence that it
would rain before morning.

“Guess we got in just in time,” said Ned, as they entered the gateway.
As he spoke Ned came to a sudden stop. He was looking at a dark figure
which seemed to be stealing up to the bungalow.

It appeared to be that of a man, advancing so as to make no noise, and
attract no attention. The fitful gleams of moonlight showed him to be
stooping over, and, now and then, glints of light about him, indicated
that he carried a dark lantern, which he flashed at intervals to enable
him to see his way.

“Look!” whispered Ned, grasping Jerry’s arm.

“I see,” was the low answer.

“It’s a burglar,” spoke Bob. “Let’s creep up on him, and make a
capture!”




CHAPTER XXIII.
OFF ON A CRUISE


Cautiously the boys advanced. They did not stop to think what they were
going to do, nor how they would capture the man, who, if he had evil
designs, was probably armed and desperate. With the sole desire of
protecting from loss their friends in the bungalow, they determined to
prevent the man from breaking into the place. That this seemed his
intention was almost certain to the boys, for they saw him approach one
of the low windows, stop under it, and flash his light several times.

“Now’s our chance!” whispered Ned. “Let’s creep up and jump on his
back. Then yell like mad and Ponto, and some of the servants will come
and help us.”

With light footsteps, hardly making a sound that was not covered by the
noise of the wind in the trees, the boys advanced until they were
within a few feet of the man. He did not suspect their presence. The
three chums were trembling with nervousness and excitement.

Suddenly the man flashed a bright beam of light on the ground, and made
a quick motion.

“Now!” whispered Ned. “Jump boys!” for it looked as if the intruder was
about to open a window, and spring inside.

The chums leaped together, and fairly bore the man to the earth. Down
they came upon him, as if they were stopping a halfback, with a
football, running around right end on the second down.

“We’ve got him!” yelled Bob.

“Help! Help!” shouted Ned.

“Murder! Thieves! Robbers! Fire! Police! Help!”

These were cries coming from the man who was struggling to get rid of
the crushing weight of three healthy, sturdy boys.

“He’s trying to get away!” called Jerry: “Hold him, fellows!”

“Let me go! Help! Help! I haven’t any money!” pleaded the man
underneath!” Fire! Police! Help!”

“What is it?” cried Mr. Seabury, opening a window just over where the
struggle was going on, and thrusting his head out. “What’s the matter?”

“We’ve caught a burglar!” cried Bob.

“A burglar? Hold him until I get my revolver! Ponto! Where are you?
There’s a burglar below! Hurry up and help the boys! Where is that
black rascal? I’ll bet he’s gone to sleep again!”

“Comin’! I’se comin’ Massa Seabury,” answered Ponto’s voice from the
far distance. “I were jest takin’ a nap—”

“Do you take me for a burglar?” suddenly asked the wriggling man, as he
succeeded in getting his head from under Bob’s stomach where it had
practically been out of sight. “Did you think I was trying to rob the
house?”

“Of course; aren’t you—” began Jerry, when a light flashing from one of
the windows, as Ponto approached, shone full on the prostrate man’s
face. Upon the startled view of the boys there burst the vision of the
peaceful, though sadly surprised, face of Professor Snodgrass.

“Pro-fes-sor Snodgrass!” exclaimed Ned weakly.

“Pro-fes-sor,” stammered Bob, rolling over in his astonishment.

“Well, if we—” began Jerry but he could not finish.

He let go his hold of the scientist’s arm, and Ned at the same time
loosened his grip on the supposed burglar’s leg. The professor arose,
smoothed out his rumpled clothing, and remarked in a sad tone:

“I suppose it’s got away, now.”

“What?” asked Ned.

“The horned toad. I was chasing one through the garden by the light of
my portable electric lantern. I cornered him under the window, and I
was just casting the net over him when you jumped on me. The toad got
away. It’s too bad, but of course you didn’t know it. I must continue
my hunt, for at last I am really on the track.”

“Whar am dat bug’lar man?” suddenly demanded Ponto, opening the side
door a crack, and thrusting a gun out. “Whar am he? Jest hold him up
agin this yeah shootin’ iron, young gem’mens, an’ Ponto’ll make him
wish he done gone stayed home? Whar am he?”

“Lookout for that gun,” cautioned Ned. “It might be loaded. There’s no
burglar, Ponto. It’s all a mistake. It was Professor Snodgrass, hunting
for horned toads.”

“Yes,” added the scientist. “I heard they were always out just before a
storm, and so I went after them. I saw a fine specimen, but he got
away. However I shall catch him.”

“No bug’lar, eh?” mused Ponto, in disappointed tones. “Golly, it
shorely am lucky fo’ him dat dere ain’t. I shorely would hab plugged
him full ob holes, dat’s a fact!”

By this time Mr. Seabury had dressed and come down, and the girls were
calling in anxious voices to know what all the excitement was about.
Matters were soon explained, and the awakened household prepared to
return to its normal state. That is all but the professor; he decided
to continue his toad hunt, and, probably would have done so, but for
the fact that it began to rain just then, and there was such a
down-pour that it was out of the question to search in the garden.

“Anyway,” the scientist consoled himself, “I don’t believe the toads
would be out in the rain. I shall probably find one to-morrow,” and,
with that comforting reflection he went to sleep.

Though it was rather late Mr. Seabury insisted on hearing from the boys
the rest of the adventure, part of which his daughters had told him. He
was much surprised at the disclosure of Blowitz’s acts, and
congratulated the boys that they had had nothing to do with him.

“Do you think it would be safe to go with Mr. De Vere?” asked Ned.

“I think so,” replied Mr. Seabury. “Of course you want to make an
investigation, but, if you find him all right, I see no reason why you
should not go off on a cruise after the derelict.”

“Oh, I wish we could go,” spoke Rose wistfully, but she knew it was out
of the question.

Mr. De Vere was much better the next day. The swelling in his ankle had
gone down, and he could walk around, though he had to carry his arm in
a sling. He sent for his lawyer, who soon proved that what the injured
man had said was true. The boys consulted further with Mr. Seabury
during the next two days, and made up their minds to go on the cruise.

“Now, when can you start?” asked Mr. De Vere, after this point had been
settled. “Or, rather, when can we start, for I intend to go with you,
though I can’t do much with this broken arm

“We can go whenever you are ready,” replied Jerry.

“Then I’ll give orders to have the _Ripper_ provisioned, for I am going
to pay all expenses. By the time we get ready I think this storm will
have blown over,” for the wind and rain had continued for three days.

Under Maurice De Vere’s directions preparations for the cruise were
soon completed. On the fourth day the storm blew away and there was the
promise of settled weather, though some old sailors, down at the dock,
said there were liable to be high winds for some time yet.

The _Ripper_ was overhauled, a plentiful cargo of provisions and
supplies had been stowed aboard, and, having bid good-bye to their
friends, the Seaburys, the boys were ready for their cruise.

“When will you come back?” asked Rose, as she and her sisters went down
to the dock to see the party off.

“When we find the derelict,” answered Jerry.

“Good luck!” said Nellie.

“Don’t let a sea serpent catch you,” cautioned Olivia, as she waved her
hand.

Jerry threw on the switch, Ned turned the fly wheel over, there was a
throbbing of the cylinders, and the _Ripper_ was off on her long cruise
after the derelict brig.




CHAPTER XXIV.
HUNTING THE DERELICT


“Well, now that we’re under way,” said Jerry, who had assumed charge of
the engine, “in which direction do you propose going, Mr. De Vere? We
are under your orders you know.”

“There are to be no special orders given on this cruise,” was the
answer. “I regard you boys as my partners in this enterprise. We will
all do our best to find the brig, and if any of you have any
suggestions, I hope you will not hesitate to offer them. To be frank
with you I do not know where to look for the _Rockhaven. _ She is
somewhere in this vicinity, floating around, but at the mercy of wind,
wave and cross currents. All we can do is to cruise about, hoping to
get a sight of her.”

“I thought when you searched for anything on the ocean you had to have
the longitude and latitude,” said Rob.

“So you do usually,” replied Mr. De Vere, but, in this case it is
impossible to get those figures. If it were it would be an easy matter
to pick up the brig. But, in the case of a derelict, that is floating
about, going in no particular direction, and making only such speed as
the wind or the currents give it, there is no telling where it will
drift to. It might be at one spot at night, and many miles off the next
morning.”

“We are prepared for a long cruise,” spoke Ned, “and it doesn’t matter
which way we go. How would it do to go about in big circles, taking a
new one every day?”

“That’s a good plan,” said the owner of the _Rockhaven. _ “We might try
it, at any rate.”

So this was done. With chart and compass Mr. De Vere, who understood
the science of navigation, worked out a plan of traveling about in big
sweeps, that took in a goodly portion of that part of the Pacific. They
had some strong marine glasses aboard and, with these, they would take
an observation, every now and then, to see if there was any sight of
the brig. As they did not expect to come upon her close to the harbor
of San Felicity, this work was not undertaken until the afternoon of
the first day.

In the meanwhile the _Ripper’s_ cabin had been put in ship-shape, bunks
were arranged for sleeping and, at his request Bob was put in charge of
the galley, to prepare the meals and be cook.

“And mind,” cautioned Jerry, “don’t eat all the things yourself. Give
us a chance, once in a while.”

“Of course; what do you think I am?” asked Bob indignantly.

“I don’t think—I know,” replied Jerry with a laugh.

Mr. De Vere could not do much to help the boys as, with his broken arm
in a sling, he had to be careful how he moved about so that he would
not be tossed against the side of the boat and injured. The _Ripper_
was a large boat, for one of the motor class, but, when it got outside
the harbor, and felt the full force of the Pacific swell, it was not as
easy riding as the boys had imagined. At first they were a little
inclined to be seasick, as it was some time since they had been on such
a big stretch of water, but, after a while, they got used to it.

The approach of night found them many miles from the harbor, but they
had had no sight of the derelict, nor, did they expect to. If the
deserted brig was anywhere in the vicinity, it must be pretty well out
to sea, Mr. De Vere told them. So when it got dark, and lights were set
aglow in the cozy cabin, it was with light hearts that the boys and
their friends gathered around the supper table, Bob had prepared a good
meal, and they enjoyed it very much.

They took turns at the night watches, the boat continuing to steam on
ahead, and the person on the lookout taking occasional observations of
the dark horizon through powerful night glasses.

Morning found them upon a waste of waters, out of sight of land, and
with not a sail in view.

“Say, but it’s lonesome,” remarked Bob when he went to the galley to
get breakfast. “What a big place the ocean is.”

“I suppose you expected to find a lot of excursion boats out here,”
remarked Jerry.

“I did not!” exclaimed Bob. “But I thought we might see a ship or two.”

For two days they cruised about, moving in great circles and keeping a
sharp watch for any sight of the derelict. Several times one of the
boys, after peering through the glasses, would call that they had
sighted her, and the motor boat would be rushed in that direction. But,
each time, it only resulted in disappointment for what they saw turned
out to be only a bit of wreckage, a big dead fish, or some floating box
or barrel, thrown overboard from some ship.

“It looks as if our search was going to be longer than I at first
thought,” said Mr. De Vere on the fifth day. “It is a good thing we are
well provisioned and have plenty of gasolene.”

“Yes, we could stay out for three weeks if necessary,” replied Jerry.

“I hope we don’t have to,” went on the owner of the brig. “A week ought
to bring us within sight of her, if she still floats. But there is no
telling what that scoundrel Blowitz may have done. He is capable of
having some one of the crew bore holes in the ship before they deserted
hEr, so she would slowly sink, and he could collect the insurance. In
fact he may have done so, and only be pretending that she is a
derelict. I wish we would get sight of her. A great deal, so far as my
fortune is concerned, depends on the result of this search.”

The boys, no less than Maurice De Vere, were anxious to sight the
derelict, not so much for the prize money, but because they wanted to
be successful, and have their cruise result in something.

Another day went by, and, though they sighted several vessels in the
distance, no water-logged craft or slowly drifting derelict greeted
their eyes.

“We’ll hope for better luck to-morrow,” said Mr. De Vere as darkness
began to fall, “though from the weather indications, I would say we
were in for a blow.”

“It does look as if getting ready for a storm,” admitted Jerry.

There was a curious stillness to the air, and the ocean had a queer
oily look, the waves heaving restlessly as though they were impatient
at their slow motion, and wanted to break into a wild revel.

Off to the west there was a murky, yellowish look to the sky, and, now
and then, there came puffs of wind that had in them a hint of great
force and power.

“We had better make everything as snug as possible,” advised Mr. De
Vere. “If it comes on to blow in the night we’ll have our hands full to
manage the boat.”




CHAPTER XXV.
IN A BAD STORM


Shortly after midnight, Jerry who was to take the last, or dog-watch
was awakened by Ned shaking him in his bunk.

“What—what’s the matter?” asked Jerry sleepily.

“You’d better get up I think. The boat is pitching something fierce,
and it’s beginning to blow great guns.”

“Um!” exclaimed Jerry, as he got out of his bunk, and was thrown up
against a bulkhead by a roll of the boat. “I should say it was pitching
some. Where’s Rob? Where’s Mr. De Vere?”

“I didn’t call them. I thought I’d tell you first and see what you
thought.”

“Wait until I take a look outside,” said Jerry, dressing as best he
could while swaying to and fro with the motion of the _Ripper. _

“Here! Quit your fooling!” suddenly exclaimed Bob, as he rolled from
his bunk, and barely saved himself from a bad shock by landing on his
hands and feet in a crouching attitude, as does a cat. “What did you do
that for?”

“You’ll have to ask Father Neptune,” answered Jerry. “We’re not guilty,
Chunky.”

“Didn’t you pull me from my bunk?” asked the stout youth.

It needed no answer from his chums to assure him to the contrary. The
motor boat was now pitching and tossing violently, and, as the boys
stood in the cabin, they had hard work to prevent themselves from being
thrown from partition to partition. Had it not been for their
forethought in making everything secure earlier in the night, the boat
might have been damaged.

“What’s the matter, boys?” asked Mr. De Vere, looking out from his
small stateroom. “Oh, it’s the storm. Arrived strictly on time, I
guess, and it’s a hummer too! How’s the engine working?”

“Fine,” declared Ned, who had just left the motor cockpit. “Runs like a
charm, and hasn’t missed an explosion since I took charge.”

“That’s good,” commented Mr. De Vere. “We’ll need all the power we can
get, to keep her head on to the waves, if this gets any worse.”

As he spoke there was a thundering crash on the deck above them, and a
rush of water told that a big comber had come aboard, nearly burying
the small craft in a swirl of green water.

“Are the hatches closed,” asked Mr. De Vere anxiously, “and the sliding
doors fastened?”

“Yes,” replied Ned. “I saw to that when I noticed the wind was getting
worse, and the waves higher.”

The boat was fitted with a cabin over the full length, but amidships,
where the motor was, were sliding partitions that could be taken down,
thus making that part of the craft open. Ned had put these slides in
place, securely fastening them, and closing the top hatches. The
derelict hunters were thus completely shut up in the _Ripper_, and
could manage the engine, and run the boat without exposing themselves.
Only for this the big wave might have swamped them.

Maurice De Vere quickly dressed and, with the boys went to the engine
compartment. The motor was humming and throbbing, and, at Jerry’s
suggestion, Ned gave the wheels and cogs an additional dose of oil.

The storm rapidly increased in fury, and the boat was pitching and
tossing in a manner that made it difficult to get from one part to
another. But the _Ripper_ was a substantial craft and though her nose,
many times, was buried deep under some big sea, she managed to work her
way out, staggering under the shock, but going on, like the gallant
boat she was.

The engine, from which one or another of the boys never took his eyes,
worked to perfection. If it had failed them, and they had gotten into
the trough of the sea, there probably would have been a different story
to tell of the motor boys on the Pacific.

“This is getting fierce!” exclaimed Bob; after a particularly big wave
had deluged the boat.

“Getting fierce?” repeated Jerry. “It’s been fierce for some time. I
hope it doesn’t get any worse.”

But, if it did not increase in violence, the storm showed no signs of
ceasing. The wind fairly howled around the frail boat, as if angry that
it could not overwhelm it, and beat it down under the waves, which were
altogether too big for the safe or comfortable riding of the _Ripper. _

There was nothing to do save watch the engine, keep the wheel steady,
and the boat pointed head on to the waves. The three boys took turns at
this, for no one would now venture back to his bunk. Mr. De Vere could
do little, for his broken arm hampered him, and, in order that he might
suffer no further injury, he braced himself in a corner, where he would
be comparatively safe from the pitching and tossing.

“Wow! That was a bad one!” exclaimed Bob, as another heavy wave
thundered on the deck, and ran hissing along the scuppers.

“I think you had better get out the life preservers,” suggested Mr. De
Vere, when several more tremendous waves followed in quick succession.

“Do you think we are in danger?” asked Ned.

“No more than we were some time ago,” was the rather grave answer. “But
it is best to be prepared. We seem to be running into the center of the
storm, instead of away from it.”

“I’ll get the cork jackets,” volunteered Jerry, going to the lockers
where the preservers were kept.

They were placed where they could be quickly put on in case the boat
foundered, and then, with white, set faces the boys prepared to watch
out the remainder of the night, looking to the engine occasionally, and
hoping fervently that they would weather the storm.

It was not cold, for they were in the latitude close to perpetual
summer, and there was no rain, only that never-ceasing wind which piled
the waves up in great foam-capped masses. On and on the boat staggered,
now scarcely making any progress at all, and, again, during a lull
shooting through the water at great speed. Sometimes the screw would be
“racing,” as the stern lifted clear of the water, and again the
powerful motor would be almost at a standstill, so great was the
pressure of the waves on the blades of the propeller.

“It doesn’t seem to be getting any worse,” remarked Bob after a long
silence, broken only by the howl of the wind. “We haven’t been boarded
by any seas lately.”

“No, I think we have gone through the most dangerous part of it,”
agreed Mr. De Vere. “But we’re still far from being out of danger.
There is a very heavy sea on.”

They waited and hoped. The throb of the engine became a monotonous hum
and whir, and the crash of the waves like the boom of some big drum.
Rob, looking through one of the cabin dead-eyes, exclaimed:

“See!”

The others looked out.

“It’s getting morning,” spoke Jerry, with a sigh of relief. “The night
is almost gone.”

Gradually it became lighter, the pale gray dawn stealing in through the
thick bull’s-eyes, and revealing the rather pale faces of the young
derelict hunters. They looked out on a heaving waste of waters, the big
waves rising and falling like some gigantic piece of machinery.

“The wind is dying down,” announced Ned in a low voice. Somehow it
seemed as if they ought to talk in whispers.

“Yes, I think it will stop when the sun comes up,” said Mr. De Vere.
“It looks as if it would be clear.”

In the east there appeared a rosy light. A golden beam shot up to the
sky, tinting the crests of the waves. Then the rim of Old Sol appeared,
to cheer the voyagers.

“Look there!” suddenly called Jerry, pointing straight at the disk of
the sun, which, every second, was becoming larger.

They all looked and saw, laboring in the waves, about a mile away, a
powerful tug, that seemed to be following them.




CHAPTER XXVI.
RIVAL SEARCHERS


“What boat is that?” asked Ned.

“Hand me the glasses,” requested Mr. De Vere, as he went nearer to the
cabin port. He peered through the binoculars for some time, then
announced:

“It’s the steam tug, _Monarch, _ from San Pedro. I wonder what it can
be doing out this way?”

“Perhaps it was blown out of its course by the storm,” suggested Jerry.
“I’m sure we must have been.”

“Very likely,” admitted Mr. De Vere. “Still that is a very powerful
boat, and the captain must have some reason to be keeping after us the
way he is doing.”

“Do you think they are following us?” asked Ned.

“It certainly looks so. We’re headed straight out to sea now,” he
added, after a glance at the compass. “If the tug was out of it’s
course it would be turned about and going the other way. Instead it is
coming right after us.”

This was very evident, for, as the _Ripper_ was laboring through the
waves, the other vessel kept in her wake, and seemed to be overhauling
the motor boat.

“Well, it’s a free country; I suppose they have a right to be here,”
spoke Jerry.

“Yes,” said Mr. De Vere, watching the tug through the glasses, “but I
don’t like their actions.”

“Why not? Do you think—” began Jerry.

“I don’t like to say what I think,” was the answer. “We will have to
wait and see what develops. But I propose that we have some breakfast,
or, at least, some hot coffee, if Bob can manage to stand in the
galley. It has been a hard night for us.”

Bob soon demonstrated that he could get up a breakfast under rather
adverse circumstances, and the derelict hunters were soon drinking hot
coffee, though they had to hold the partly-filled cups in one hand, and
maintain their balance by clinging with the other to some part of the
cabin.

The day was clear, and, save for the high waves, there were no
evidences of the storm. The big sea, however, was not likely to subside
soon, and the _Ripper_ had to stagger along as best she could, which
task she performed to the great satisfaction of the voyagers.

Maurice De Vere seemed much worried by the appearance of the tug, which
hung on the wake of the _Ripper_, maintaining a speed that kept it
about a mile to the rear. The owner of the _Rockhaven_ kept the glasses
almost continually on the steam vessel, and the anxious look did not
leave his face.

“Can you slow down the engine a bit?” he asked of Jerry, who had
relieved Ned at the motor.

“Yes, if you want me to, Why?”

“I’d like that other boat to come closer to us. I want to see if I can
make out who is aboard. If we slacken our speed they may approach
before they see the trick, and I can form some opinion of what this
strange chase means.”

“What do you think it means?” asked Ned.

“I’m afraid it indicates that Blowitz is after us,” replied Mr. De
Vere. “I think he has heard of our voyage after the brig and has hired
this tug to try and beat me. But slow down, and let us see what
happens. The waves are not so high now, and you can do it with safety.”

Accordingly Jerry reduced the speed of the motor. The _Ripper_ at once
began to lose headway, and Mr. De Vere, watching the oncoming tug
through the binoculars, announced:

“She’ll be closer in a little while, and I can make out the man on
deck, who seems to be directing operations.”

The boys anxiously waited. Their employer kept the glasses to his eyes,
though it was tiresome work, holding them with one hand. Suddenly he
exclaimed:

“I can see him quite plainly, now!”

“Who is it?” asked Jerry quickly.

“Carson Blowitz! He, too, is after the derelict! He is going to try and
cheat me again!”

Nearer and nearer approached the steam tug, for the pilot had,
evidently, not taken into consideration the fact that the _Ripper_ was
going ahead at reduced speed. Soon it was close enough for the boys,
without the aid of the glasses, to make out the figure of Blowitz.

“I must go outside,” announced Mr. De Vere. “Give me a hand, Jerry, so
I won’t stumble and hurt my broken arm.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to ask Blowitz what he means by following me; and whether he
is trying to find the derelict that belongs to me.”

Jerry assisted Mr. De Vere out on the small deck in front of the cabin.
By this time the _Monarch_ was within hailing distance, those in charge
of her evidently having decided to give up trying to remain in the
rear.

“_Ripper_ ahoy!” called Carson Blowitz, waving his hand at the little
group on deck.

“What do you want, you scoundrel?” asked Mr. De Vere angrily. “What do
you mean by following me?”

“Rather strong language, my dear partner,” was the taunting answer from
Blowitz. “Besides I don’t know that I am following you. The ocean is
big enough for two boats, I guess.”

“Do you deny that you are following me, and seeking to find the
derelict _Rockhaven?”_ demanded Mr. De Vere.

“I deny nothing—I admit nothing, my dear partner.”

“I am no longer in partnership with you, since you tried to cheat me,”
was the answer. “I consider our relations at an end.”

“Very well. But I am sorry to see that you are hurt. I hope it is
nothing serious.”

“No thanks to you that I was not killed! You meant to end my life when
you pushed me over the cliff, and, as soon as this business is settled
I intend to see that you are punished for your crimes. You have gone
too far, Carson Blowitz.”

“Not as far as I intend to go!” suddenly exclaimed the other, with a
change in his manner. The two boats were now side by side, not twenty
feet away. “You have guessed it,” he went on. “I am after the derelict
brig, and I intend to get her. I am going to finish you before I am
through. That ship is mine, and all the cargo on her. If you attempt to
touch it I shall have to take stringent measures to prevent you. I warn
you not to interfere with my property!”

“Your property!” cried Maurice De Vere. “That brig and all on it is
mine, by every legal claim, and I shall maintain my rights to the
uttermost.”

“Very well then, it is to be a fight!” answered Blowitz. “We are to be
rival seekers after the derelict. Possession is nine points of the law,
and I intend to take possession.”

“First you’ll have to find it.”

“Never fear. I am on the track. Good-bye, my recent partner. Sorry I
can’t keep you company.”

Blowitz waved his hand, as though in friendly farewell, but Mr. De Vere
turned aside, refusing to notice him, for the scoundrel had greatly
wronged him, and was now adding insult to injury.

There was a ringing of bells on the tug, and the powerful vessel forged
ahead, leaving the _Ripper_ astern.

“Shall we speed up?” asked Jerry. “We can easily beat them, for ours is
the faster boat.”

“No, let him go,” replied Mr. De Vere. “He has no more idea, than have
I, where to look for the derelict. He is taking the same chances we
are, but I’ll not follow him. As he says, we are rivals now. I hope I
win, for my whole fortune depends on it.”

“We’ll do our best to help you,” said Bob.

“That’s what we will,” added Jerry, and Ned nodded an assent.

“Bear off to the left,” suggested Mr. De Vere, as a cloud of black
smoke from the funnel of the tug showed that the engineer was crowding
on steam. “We’ll part company from them.”

Speeding up the engine Jerry steered the _Ripper_ out of the course of
the _Monarch. _ The hunt of the rivals to locate the derelict brig was
now on.




CHAPTER XXVII.
THE DERELICT


“They don’t seem to be following us now,” observed Ned, after they had
watched the tug continuing on her course.

“No, it looks as if they were taking another tack,” said Maurice De
Vere. “I wonder if he can have private information as to the location
of the brig? If he has he may get ahead of me and discover her first.”

“I don’t believe he has,” was Jerry’s opinion. “I think he is on a
blind search, just as we are.”

“I hope so. It means a great deal to me to find that derelict.”

“What had we better do?” asked Bob. “Can’t we get ahead of him in some
way?”

“I know of no other way than to cruise about until we find the brig,”
replied Mr. De Vere. “It is only a chance, but luck may favor us first.
That is all we can hope for.”

All that day they cruised fruitlessly about, and the next day was
equally barren of result.

“I’m afraid you’ll think we’re not very good derelict hunters,”
remarked Jerry on the morning of the third day after the storm, when
they took an observation, and saw nothing but a vast extent of water.
The weather was calm, the sun shone brightly and the _Ripper_ was
making good time.

“No,” was the answer. “It isn’t your fault. This was in the nature of
an experiment, and I do not expect immediate results. I figured on
being three weeks on this search, and we have only spent about a third
of that time. We are yet on the safe side, although I admit it is
rather disappointing.”

After breakfast they resumed their observations. It was nearly eight
bells when Ned, who had been stationed in the bow with the powerful
glasses, cried out:

“I see something.”

“Where?” asked Mr. De Vere eagerly.

“Off the left.”

Mr. De Vere took the glasses and peered long and anxiously through them
at a small speck which Ned pointed out as it rose and fell on the crest
of the billows.

“Is it the derelict?” asked Jerry, appearing in the companionway.

“I don’t know,” answered Ned. “It looks like some sort of a ship, but
I’m afraid to be positive, because we’ve had so many false alarms.”

“It’s some sort of a ship,” remarked Mr. De Vere suddenly as he passed
the glasses to Jerry. “I make it out to be a brig, and, from the way it
is jibing about, it seems to be under no control. See what you think.”

Jerry took a careful look.

“It’s a brig, sure enough,” he declared, “and I can’t see any sign of
life on her.”

“Put us over that way,” requested Mr. De Vere, of Ned, who was steering
and running the engine. “When we get a little nearer I may be able to
make out the name.”

There were anxious hearts beating in the breasts of those aboard the
_Ripper. _ Could it be possible that the ship they saw was the derelict
for which they had been searching? They all hoped so.

Ned speeded the motor up to the highest notch and the boat fairly flew
through the calm sea. Near and nearer it came to the ship, which could
now plainly be made out. There was not a sail set, and this was
peculiar in itself. The brig idly rose and fell on the long, heaving
swells.

“It’s my ship!” suddenly cried Mr. De Vere, after a lengthy observation
through the binoculars. “I can make out her name. It’s the _Rockhaven!
_ Hurrah, boys! We have found her at last!”

“And Blowitz and his tug are nowhere in sight!” cried Ned. “We have
beaten him!”

“Indeed we have,” went on Mr. De Vere. “Now, Ned, see how soon you can
put us alongside.”

“It will not take long,” declared the young engineer. “It’s only a few
miles.”

The _Ripper_ proved worthy of her name, for she fairly “ripped” through
the waves, and, in a short time, was so close to the derelict that they
had to slow up.

“Put us up under the port quarter,” advised Mr. De Vere. “Luckily there
is not much of a swell on, and we can easily get aboard as she sets low
in the water. She must be leaking.”

With skillful hand Ned brought the motor boat alongside. The anchor
chains were hanging low from the hawse holes and as they approached
Jerry prepared to catch hold and swing himself up. He had reached out
his hand, and was just going to grasp the links, when, from the deck of
the deserted brig there came savage growls and barks. Jerry jumped back
in alarm and Ned, who had jammed a boat hook in the side of the brig,
to hold the _Ripper_ steady, looked up.

“It’s dogs!” he cried. “Two of ’em!”

As he spoke two savage looking creatures thrust their heads up over the
low rail. They were large dogs, of the wolf-hound variety; great shaggy
creatures, and they growled in a menacing manner.

“They must have left the dogs aboard when they so strangely deserted
the ship,” said Mr. De Vere. “I suppose they’re glad to see us. They
must be lonesome. Try again, Jerry. I would, if I had the use of my two
arms.”

Once more Jerry prepared to ascend by means of the chains, but the dogs
almost leaped over the rail at him, showing their teeth, while the hair
on as much of their backs as could be seen stood up in ridges. Foam
dripped from their jaws.

“Look out!” cried Bob. “Those dogs are mad! Be careful!”

Savage growls and barks from the angry beasts emphasized his words.
There was no doubt of it. The dogs were mad from fear and hunger. They
disputed the advance of the voyagers, and would not let them aboard.

“Try on the other side,” suggested Mr. De Vere.

The boat was worked around to the other side of the bow, but the dogs
followed, and stood on guard there.

“Maybe we can get up at the stern,” said Jerry. “Perhaps the dogs can’t
make their way aft.”

But it was the same there. The maddened animals were ready to fly at
the throats of any one who should attempt to board the derelict.

“What’s to be done?” asked Ned. “We didn’t count on this. Those are
fierce dogs.”

“Indeed they are,” replied Mr. De Vere. “It would not be safe to risk
getting too close to them.”

“But what can we do?” asked Jerry. “If we wait here too long, Blowitz
may appear.”

“We’ve got to do something,” said the boy’s employer. “The only thing I
can see to do is to shoot the dogs. I’ll get my rifle,” and he went
into the cabin, where he had left his weapon, one of several he had
brought aboard.




CHAPTER XXVIII.
A MYSTERIOUS INFLUENCE


“One of you boys will have to do the shooting,” said Maurice De Vere,
as he came out on the small forward deck with his rifle. “I’m a pretty
good marksman, but I can’t do anything when I have this broken arm.”

“Let Jerry try,” suggested Ned. “He’s the best shot of us three.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” spoke Jerry modestly, but Mr. De Vere handed him
the rifle.

“We have no time to lose,” he said. “Blowitz may be here at any hour,
and, as he said, possession is nine points of the law. I want to get
aboard.”

Jerry looked to the loading of the weapon, and then, at his suggestion
the motor boat was backed off some yards.

“I want to see to get a good shot, and put the poor things out of their
misery as soon as possible,” he said.

The dogs acted more wild than ever as they saw the motor boat moving
about. They almost leaped overboard, as they raced about the derelict
and finally, they both jumped on the quarter deck, where they stood in
bold relief.

“Now’s your chance, Jerry!” cried Ned.

Jerry took quick aim, steadying himself as best he could against the
motion of the boat. The rifle cracked, and, at the same instant one of
the dogs gave a howl, a convulsive leap, and, a second later was
floundering in the water.

“There’s one of the poor brutes gone,” remarked Mr. De Vere. “Now, once
more, Jerry. I hate to kill the dogs, for they are valuable animals,
but it is a question of their lives or ours, and it would not be safe
to let them live.”

The remaining dog, startled by the rifle shot, and the disappearance of
its companion stood in mute surprise on the quarter deck. He offered a
good shot, and Jerry fired. The dog howled, and began whirling about in
a circle, snapping its jaws.

“You’ve only wounded him!” exclaimed Bob.

Before any one else could speak Jerry had fired the repeater again.
This time the bullet went true, and the dog fell to the deck, gave a
few convulsive struggles, and was still.

“That settles him,” remarked Mr. De Vere.

“Now, boys, we’ll go aboard, and I’ll get what belongs to me. Then
we’ll see if we can tow the ship in.”

The _Ripper_ was once more put alongside the brig, cork buffers were
adjusted to prevent damage being done, and, in a few minutes Jerry had
scrambled up on deck.

“That’s a fierce brute,” he remarked to Bob who followed him, as they
stood looking at the dead dog. “I’m glad I didn’t have to tackle him at
close quarters.”

“Let’s heave him overboard,” suggested Bob, and they did so, though it
took all their strength to drag the body to the rail.

“I guess you’ll have to lower the accommodation ladder for me, boys,”
said Mr. De Vere. “I don’t believe I can scramble up by way of the
chains, as you did.”

“Wait until I get up there and I’ll give you a hand,” called Ned, who
had been left in the motor boat.

“No, you had better stay here and help fasten the ladder when Bob and
Jerry lower it,” answered Mr. De Vere. “I’ll need your aid.”

After some little difficulty, for part of the tackle had fouled, Bob
and Jerry succeeded in lowering over the ship’s side an accommodation
ladder, somewhat like a short flight of steps. It hung above the
_Ripper’s_ deck, and when some ropes had been strung for hand rails,
Mr. De Vere was able to ascend, holding on by one hand, and was soon on
the deck of the brig.

“At last!” he exclaimed. “Here we are! I was afraid we’d never find
her, and, if we did, that Blowitz would be ahead of me. But, thanks to
you, boys, I have beaten him. Now I must see if my papers are safe.”

“Where will you look for them?” asked Jerry.

“They must be somewhere in the captain’s cabin. That is where the gold
will likely be. I suppose we’ll have to hunt for it.”

“Shall we help you?”

“Yes, if you will. Let’s go below. Is the motor boat securely made
fast?”

“I’ll guarantee she’ll not drift away,” declared Ned, as he and his
companions followed Mr. De Vere to the main cabin.

On every side were evidences of a hurried abandonment of the brig. Some
of the sailors had gone off without taking all their clothing, for
garments were scattered here and there. Things were in confusion below
decks, and the captain’s cabin showed signs of having been ransacked.

“There is something queer about this,” said Mr. De Vere as he surveyed
the scene. “The ship is not sinking, and I don’t believe it has leaked
a drop, though at first I thought so. There was no collision, for there
is no sign of damage. Yet there is every indication that captain and
crew deserted the brig in a hurry. Now what made them do that? Why did
not Blowitz give me some reason for that? What caused the abandonment
of the brig?”

“Perhaps the sailors got superstitious, I’ve often read that they do,”
suggested Jerry.

“I hardly think so.”

“Maybe they were afraid of the mad dogs,” said Bob.

“I don’t believe the dogs went mad until after the sailors left,” was
Mr. De Vere’s answer. “No, there is some strange secret connected with
the brig, and I’d like to solve it. But I must first find my papers and
the gold.”

“Suppose the captain took them with him?” remarked Ned.

“He did not know about them. That is he did not know of what the
valuables consisted. The gold and papers were put in a safe, and only
Blowitz and myself had the combination. The safe was placed in the
captain’s cabin, and he was instructed to deliver it, unopened, to a
certain man. When they deserted the ship in such a hurry I do not
believe they took the safe with them. It must be somewhere on board.
We’ll search for it.”

The cabin was rather large, and contained a number of lockers and other
places that might serve as a hiding place for the safe. The boys and
Mr. De Vere made a careful hunt. While they were in the midst of it a
sudden noise startled them.

“What was that?” asked Bob.

“The cabin door slid shut,” answered Jerry, who had seen what happened.
“I’ll open it.”

“Here’s the safe!” suddenly called Mr. De Vere, as he opened a small
locker, in an out-of-the-way corner. “Help me get it out, boys, and
we’ll open it.”

The closed door was forgotten, and the three lads, at their employer’s
suggestion, fastened a rope about the safe and pulled it out. It rolled
on small wheels.

“Sorry I can’t help you much,” spoke Mr. De Vere, “but this arm of mine
prevents me.”

“Oh, we can manage it all right,” declared Jerry, and after a while,
they succeeded in wheeling the safe out into the middle of the cabin.

“There is some other stuff in the locker,” announced Bob, as he peered
within. “It looks like those small boxes Mr. Blowitz shipped from
Cresville.”

“That’s what they are,” added Jerry, taking a look. “Now we have a
chance to see what is in them.”

“Wait until we get the safe open,” advised Mr. De Vere. “Then we’ll see
if we can’t get at the secret of the ship.”

He sat down in front of the strong steel box, and began to turn the
combination. It was quite complicated, and took some time.

“Um-m-m-m-m!” exclaimed Bob, with a lazy stretch. “I’m beginning to
feel sleepy. Guess I’ll lie down on this couch and rest.”

He did so, and, somewhat to his companions’ surprise, was soon
apparently asleep.

“He must be pretty well played out,” remarked Ned. “Funny, but I feel a
little drowsy myself. We haven’t been getting any too much sleep, of
late, I suppose.”

Mr. De Vere was working away at the combination of the safe. Something
seemed to have gone wrong with it, and he twirled the knobs and dials,
first this way and that.

“What a curious ringing sound they make,” Jerry was thinking, as he sat
in a chair and looked on. “It’s just like bells away off somewhere. I
wonder if it’s my ears? I feel as if I had taken quinine for a cold.
There seems to be some sort of a haze in the cabin. I wonder—”

But Jerry never knew what he wondered, for the same mysterious
influence that had overpowered Bob had made Jerry succumb. His head
fell forward on his breast, and he was unconscious.

Ned began to imagine he was in a boiler factory, of which Mr. De Vere
was the foreman. The latter seemed to be hammering on a big steel safe,
and soon, in Ned’s ears there echoed the noise of the blows. Then the
boy’s eyes closed, and he joined Bob and Jerry in falling under the
mysterious spell.

Seated on the floor in front of the safe Mr. De Vere wondered what made
his fingers move so slowly. With his one good hand he could scarcely
turn the dials of the combination. His head, too, felt very heavy, and
once there was such a mist before his eyes that he could not see the
figures on the shining disk of the safe.

“This is queer,” he murmured. “It is very close in this cabin. I wish
the boys had opened the door. I wish—I—”

Mr. De Vere fell over backward, unconscious, while, around the silent
forms in the cabin wreathed a thin bluish vapor that came from the
locker where the safe had been, and where there were some small
boxes—the same mysterious boxes that Blowitz had shipped from
Cresville.

In the tightly-closed cabin the derelict hunters were now at the mercy
of the mysterious influence—an influence they could not see or guard
against, and from which they were in deadly peril.




CHAPTER XXIX.
A COMMAND TO LAY TO


Strange things happen on the ocean. Sometimes slight occurrences lead
to great results. When the sailors deserted the brig _Rockhaven, _
provisioning their boats in a hurry, one water cask was left behind.
The mate had intended stowing it away in the captain’s gig, but found
there was no room for it, so he allowed it to remain on deck, where he
set it.

In due time, by the motion of the abandoned brig in the storm, the
water cask was overturned and rolled about at every heave of the waves,
first to port, and then to starboard, Now aft, and again forward. As
luck would have it, not long after those in the cabin fell under the
deadly influence of some queer, stupefying fumes, the water cask was
rolling about close to the trunk roof of the cabin, a roof that had
side windows in it.

With one lurch of the ship the water cask nearly crashed against these
windows, but, by the narrowest margin missed. Then the cask rolled
toward the scuppers. Those in the cabin were more than ever under the
influence of the fumes. They were breathing heavily, the veins in their
necks began to swell, their hearts were laboring hard to overcome the
stupefying influence of the fumes. But it was almost too late.

Suddenly a long roller lifted the brig well up into the air. Then it
slid down the watery incline. The cask started to roll toward the cabin
windows. Straight for them it came, turning over and over.

With a resounding blow the cask shattered the frame, and sent the glass
in a shower into the cabin below. Through the opening thus
Providentially made, the fresh air rushed. The deadly fumes began to
escape. Once more the cask rolled against the window, breaking another
glass, and more fresh air came in.

Jerry stirred uneasily. It seemed as if some one had a hammer, hitting
him on the head. That was the blood beginning to circulate again. His
veins throbbed with life. Slowly he opened his eyes. He became aware of
a sweet, sickish smell, that mingled with the sharp tang of the salt
air. By a great effort he roused himself. He could not, for a moment,
think where he was, but he had a dim feeling as if some one had tried
to chloroform him. Then, with a sudden shock his senses came back to
him. He became aware of the need of fresh air, and, hardly knowing what
he was doing, he opened the cabin door.

The inrush of a fresh atmosphere completed the work the water cask had
begun. The poisonous fumes were dispersed, and, with their
disappearance, the others regained their senses. Mr. De Vere was the
next to arouse.

“What—what happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Jerry, “unless Blowitz came aboard and
chloroformed us.”

“He couldn’t do that—yet—the safe is not tampered with—but this drowsy
feeling—”

Mr. De Vere stopped suddenly. His eyes were fixed on the closet or
locker, whence the safe had been wheeled, and where the little boxes
were. From the locker a thin, bluish smoke arose.

“Quick!” he cried. “I understand it all now! We must get them overboard
or we’ll all be killed!”

Ned and Bob had been aroused by this time, and were sitting staring
stupidly around them. They did not realize what had happened.

“I’ll throw ’em overboard,” volunteered Jerry.

“Don’t go near them,” cautioned Mr. De Vere. “If you breathe too deeply
of those fumes, you’ll be killed. Get a boat hook, poke them out of the
locker, spear them with the sharp point, and thrust them up through the
broken cabin window.”

Jerry hurried to the _Ripper_, which safely rode alongside the brig.
He got a sharp boat hook, and, with the aid of Bob and Ned, the boxes,
with their deadly contents were soon out on deck, whence they were
knocked into the sea. Then a hunt was made in other parts of the brig
and more boxes were found and cast into the ocean.

“What was in them?” asked Ned, when the task was finished. “Was that
what made us fall asleep?”

“It was,” replied Mr. De Vere. “What was in them I do not know exactly,
but it was some chemical that Blowitz put there to accomplish his
purpose. I see through his scheme now. After the brig was loaded he
sent these boxes aboard. They were distributed in different parts of
the ship, some in the quarters of the crew, some where the mates slept,
and others in the captain’s cabin. They were properly adjusted to give
off a vapor at a certain time and he counted either on the fumes
killing the men, or making them unconscious so they would die of heart
failure. Then, very likely, he intended to make a search for the brig
which would have no captain or crew, and claim the vessel. But his
scheme did not work as he intended. The crew and captain were probably
frightened by feeling some mysterious sleepy influence at work, and
they hastily deserted the ship. Probably the commander did not like to
acknowledge the real reason for his seemingly un-called-for act, and he
did not tell Blowitz the cause for the abandonment. The stuff in the
boxes remained on board, ready to render unconscious any persons who
came within reach of the fumes. Maybe it made the dogs mad.

“The accidental closing of the cabin door deprived us of air. The fumes
filled the cabin, and rendered us all unconscious. I do not yet
understand how we were revived.”

“It must have been the water cask,” declared Jerry, who had seen it on
deck, and his theory, which was the correct one, was accepted.

“Now I will finish working the combination, and open the safe,” said
Mr. De Vere, when they had breathed in deep of the fresh air, and felt
the last influences of the fumes vanish. “We must have been unconscious
an hour or more.”

It did not take him long after this to open the strong box. From an
inner compartment he drew forth a bundle of papers, and a small box,
that seemed quite heavy. This he opened.

“The gold is safe, at any rate,” he announced. “Now to look at the
papers.”

A hasty examination of these showed that they were all there.

“This is good news for me, boys,” announced Mr. De Vere. “My fortune is
safe now, and that scoundrel Blowitz can not ruin me as he tried to
do!”

“Hark! What was that?” asked Jerry suddenly.

From somewhere out on the Pacific there sounded a whistle, long drawn
out.

“It’s a steamer!” cried Ned. “It has probably sighted the derelict!”

“A steamer,” murmured Mr. De Vere. “If it is not—”

He did not finish, but the boys knew what he meant.

Mr. De Vere hastily thrust the papers into an inner pocket of his coat.

“Distribute the gold among you,” he told the boys. “When we get it
aboard the _Ripper_ we can hide it. There is no telling what might
happen. If that steamer—”

“It’s the tug _Monarch!”_ cried Jerry, who had hurried up on deck.
“It’s coming this way full speed!”

“Then we must leave at once!” decided Mr. De Vere. “I think our boat
can beat theirs. I did hope to be able to tow the brig into harbor, and
save the cargo, but that is out of the question now. I do not want a
fight with Blowitz. Come, boys, we must escape!”

The boys hurriedly divided the gold among them. It made their pockets
bulge out, and was quite heavy. Mr. De Vere had his papers safe.

As the derelict hunters all came out on deck they could see the
_Monarch_ was much nearer. In bold relief stood a figure in the bow.

“It’s Blowitz!” exclaimed Mr. De Vere, “and he’s shaking his fist at
me. He’s angry because I have beaten him at his own game. But come on,
I don’t want a clash with him. I am in no shape for another fight.
We’ll have to retreat.”

It was the work of but a few seconds to get into the motor boat. The
lines were cast off, and, with one turn of the wheel Ned started the
engine, and ran her up to full speed after a few revolutions.

“Now let them have the brig,” said Mr. De Vere. “I’ve gotten the best
out of her.”

But Blowitz and his men seemed to have lost interest in the derelict.
Instead of continuing on their course toward it they were now coming
full speed after the _Ripper_, the tug being steered to cross her
bows. Probably Blowitz took it for granted that De Vere had the papers
and gold.

“They’re after us!” cried Jerry.

“Yes, but they’ve got to catch us!” declared Bob.

An instant later a puff of white smoke spurted out from the side of the
_Monarch, _ something black jumped from wave-crest to wave-crest. Then
came a dull boom.

“What’s that?” asked Bob, in alarm.

“A shot across our bows. A command to lay to,” said Mr. De Vere.




CHAPTER XXX.
THE END OF BLOWITZ—CONCLUSION


“Are you going to stop?” asked Ned, of Maurice De Vere.

“Not unless you boys are afraid. I don’t believe they can hit us.
That’s only a small saluting cannon they have, and it’s hard to shoot
straight when there’s as much sea on as there is now. Do you want to
stop and surrender?”

“Not much!” cried the three motor boys in a breath.

“Then may it be a stern chase and a long chase!” exclaimed Mr. De Vere.
“Crowd her all you can, Ned, and we’ll beat him.”

Ned needed no urging to make the powerful motor do its best. The
machinery was throbbing and humming, and the _Ripper_ was cutting
through the water “with a bone in her teeth,” as the sailors say.

“Swing her around so as to get the tug in back of us,” advised Jerry.
“We’ll be in less danger then.”

Ned shifted the wheel, but, as he was doing so there was another shot
from the _Monarch, _ and, this time, the ball from the cannon came
uncomfortably close.

“Their aim is improving,” remarked Mr. De Vere, as he coolly looked at
the pursuing tug through the glasses, “but we are leaving them behind.”

The chase had now become a “stern” one, that is the _Monarch_ was
directly astern of the _Ripper_, and the varying progresses made by
the boats could not be discerned so well as before. Still it seemed
that the motor boat was maintaining her lead.

It now settled down to a pursuit, for, stern on as she was, the
_Ripper_ offered so small a mark for the tug, that it was almost
useless to fire the cannon.

There were anxious hearts aboard the motor boat, as they watched the
tug pursuing them. They knew there would be a fight if Blowitz and Mr.
De Vere met, and, in the latter’s crippled condition, it was not hard
to imagine how it would result.

“How’s she running, Ned?” asked Jerry, as he looked at the engine.

“Never better. She’s singing like a bird. This is a dandy boat.”

“I think we’ll beat him,” declared Mr. De Vere.

For an hour or more the chase continued, the _Monarch_ seeming to gain
slowly. Mr. De Vere looked anxious, and kept his eyes fixed to the
binoculars, through which he viewed the pursuing vessel. At length,
however, a more cheerful look came into his face.

“Something has happened!” he exclaimed.

“Happened? How?” asked Jerry.

“Why aboard the tug. Blowitz went off the deck in a hurry, and the
steersman has left the pilot house. Maybe something is wrong with the
machinery.”

That something of this nature had happened was evident a few minutes
later, for the _Monarch_ had to slow up, and the _Ripper_ was soon so
far in advance that to catch up with her was out of the question.

“I guess the chase is over,” announced Mr. De Vere. “I think they’ve
had an accident. Still Blowitz will not give up. I must expect a legal
battle over this matter when I get ashore. He will try to ruin me, and
claim these papers and the gold. But I will beat him.”

The _Ripper_, urged on by her powerful motor, soon lost sight of the
tug, which, from the last observation Mr. De Vere took, seemed to have
turned about, to go back to the brig.

Two days later, having made quick time, and on a straight course, the
voyagers sighted the harbor of San Felicity a few miles away.

“Now for home!” cried Ned.

“And the bungalow ‘The Next Day,’ Ponto and a good square meal!” added
Bob.

“And the girls,” came from Jerry. “I guess they’ll be glad to see us.”

“If Blowitz doesn’t turn up to make trouble for me,” put in Mr. De
Vere, rather dubiously.

The _Ripper_ docked that afternoon, and, Mr. De Vere, promising to call
on the boys and pay them their prize money as soon as he had seen his
lawyer, and deposited the gold and papers in a safe place, bade them
good-bye at the wharf, and hurried off. He was fearful lest he should
be intercepted by some agent of Blowitz, though there was no sign that
the tug had arrived.

The three boys were warmly welcomed by the girls and Mr. Seabury, when
they got to the bungalow.

“I congratulate you,” said the elderly gentleman. “You deserve great
credit for what you did.”

“Well, we had good luck,” admitted Jerry. “But where is the professor?”

“Out searching for horned toads and web-footed lizards,” said Nellie.
“He has enlisted the services of Ponto, and they are continually on the
hunt. I hope he gets what he wants.”

“He generally does,” said Bob. “If he doesn’t he finds something else
nearly as good.”

Some days later Mr. De Vere called at the bungalow. He had finished up
his business affairs, and brought the boys the prize money, as their
reward for the parts they had played in the finding of the derelict.

“But this is too much,” protested Jerry, when Mr. De Vere had given him
and his comrades nearly half as much again as was originally promised.

“Not a bit of it,” was the reply. “I can well afford it. Those papers
were more valuable than you supposed, and I find I will be able to
collect insurance on the cargo of the abandoned brig. I have heard from
the captain of it, and he tells me, just as I supposed, that he and the
crew left her because of the peculiar fumes, so that my theory was
right, after all. They tried to take the dogs, which belonged to the
first mate, but could not.”

“Did you hear anything more of Blowitz?” asked Ned.

“Yes,” replied Mr. De Vere, rather solemnly. “Blowitz was killed
shortly after the tug gave up the chase.”

“How?”

“The boiler blew up when the tug was trying to tow the derelict in, and
he and several of the crew were burned to death. The survivors floated
on the wreckage until they were picked up. So I have nothing more to
fear from Blowitz. But I called to know if you boys, and the young
ladies, Mr. Seabury and Professor Snodgrass, would not be my guests at
a little dinner I am to give at the hotel. I want to show you that I
appreciate what you did for me.”

“I think you have already done so,” said Jerry.

“Perhaps I have, but I would like you to come to my dinner. Will you?”

The boys promised. So did the girls and Mr. Seabury, whose health was
much improved by the California climate. The professor, with a far away
look in his eyes, said he would be there if he could.

“What’s to prevent you?” asked Bob.

“Well, I haven’t found that horned toad yet, and I’m still searching.”

The dinner came off three nights later. It was a grand affair, served
in the best of style of which the San Felicity hotel chef was capable.
The girls and the boys were there, dressed in their best, and Ponto was
taken along as a sort of chaperon, which gave him great delight. He did
not once fall asleep.

“But where is Professor Snodgrass?” asked Mr. De Vere, when it was
nearly time to sit down. “Isn’t he coming?”

“He promised to be here,” announced Mr. Seabury. “Probably he is on his
way now.”

At that moment a commotion was heard outside the private dining-room
which Mr. De Vere had engaged. A voice was saying:

“I tell you I will go in! I’m invited! My clothes? What about my
clothes? All mud? Of course they’re all mud. I couldn’t help it!”

Then the door flew open and a curious sight was presented. There stood
the professor, his coat split up the back, his trousers torn, and his
hat smashed. Splashes of mud were all over him.

“What is the matter?” cried Mr. Seabury, in alarm.

“Nothing,” replied the professor calmly. “I have caught two horned
toads, that’s all. I saw them as I was on the way here, and I had to go
into a mud puddle to get them. I fell down, but I got the toads,” and
he held up a small cage, in which were the ugly creatures.

“Ugh!” exclaimed Nellie.

“Good for you, Professor!” cried Jerry. “You got the toads and we got
our prize money!”

“Yes, but I would rather have these toads than all your prize money,”
replied the professor. “They are beauties,” he added, fondly.

The dinner was a joyous affair, and it is a question who was the
happiest, the professor, over the capture of the horned toads, the boys
over the successful outcome of their cruise on the Pacific, or Mr. De
Vere, who had recovered his fortune. At any rate they all had a good
time.

“Well,” remarked Bob, when the supper was over, and they were on their
way back to the bungalow, “I suppose we’ll soon have to think of
getting back east, and beginning school. They must have the pipes and
boiler fixed by now.”

“Don’t think of it,” begged Ned. “It’s too awful. I’d like to go on
another long cruise in the _Ripper.”_

“Well, I don’t know that we can do that,” said Jerry, “but I certainly
hope we have more adventures soon.” How his wish was gratified will be
told in another volume of this series, to be entitled, “The Motor Boys
in the Clouds; Or, A Trip for Fame and Fortune.” In that book we shall
meet many of our old friends again, and learn something more of a
venture in which the motor boys were already interested.

“Boys, this has been an interesting trip for me,” said Professor
Snodgrass. “I have the two horned toads, seven web-footed lizards, and
over fifty other valuable specimens to take back with me. I would not
have missed this trip for a great deal.”

“So say we all of us!” cried Jerry.

“Let us go out for another trip in the motor boat to-morrow,” said Ned.
“I mean a short trip.”

“Take us along!” pleaded the girls in concert.

“Sure thing!” answered the boys.

And they went out—and had a glorious time—and here we shall have to say
farewell.

THE END