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[Illustration: HALF THE STEAMER DISAPPEARED FROM SIGHT BENEATH THE
WAVES.]




  THE MOTOR BOYS
  ON THE ATLANTIC

  Or

  The Mystery of the Lighthouse


  BY
  CLARENCE YOUNG

  Author of
  “The Racer Boys Series” and “The Jack Ranger Series.”


  ILLUSTRATED


  NEW YORK
  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY




BOOKS BY CLARENCE YOUNG

=THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES=

(_=Trade Mark, Reg. U. S. Pat. Of.=_)

12mo. Illustrated

  THE MOTOR BOYS
    Or Chums Through Thick and Thin
  THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
    Or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
    Or The Secret of the Buried City
  THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
    Or The Hermit of Lost Lake
  THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
    Or The Stirring Cruise of the Dartaway
  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
    Or The Mystery of the Lighthouse
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
    Or Lost in a Floating Forest
  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
    Or The Young Derelict Hunters
  THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
    Or A Trip for Fame and Fortune


=THE JACK RANGER SERIES=

12mo. Finely Illustrated

  JACK RANGER’S SCHOOLDAYS
    Or The Rivals of Washington Hall
  JACK RANGER’S WESTERN TRIP
    Or From Boarding School to Ranch and Range
  JACK RANGER’S SCHOOL VICTORIES
    Or Track, Gridiron and Diamond
  JACK RANGER’S OCEAN CRUISE
    Or The Wreck of the Polly Ann
  JACK RANGER’S GUN CLUB
    Or From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail


  Copyright, 1908, by
  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY

  THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC

  Printed in U. S. A.




CONTENTS


 CHAPTER                                  PAGE
      I. LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE              1
     II. THE RAILROAD WRECK                  9
    III. A QUEER OLD MAN                    17
     IV. OFF TO THE COAST                   25
      V. CAUGHT IN A SQUALL                 33
     VI. THE RACE                           41
    VII. “THERE SHE BLOWS!”                 53
   VIII. AFTER THE WHALE                    61
     IX. TOWED TO SEA                       68
      X. THE WHALE ESCAPES                  74
     XI. ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN                82
    XII. ALMOST RUN DOWN                    90
   XIII. NODDY NIXON TURNS UP               98
    XIV. A BATH HOUSE MYSTERY              107
     XV. LOOKING FOR BILL                  114
    XVI. LANDING A SHARK                   124
   XVII. THE ABANDONED VESSEL              132
  XVIII. ABOARD THE WRECK                  140
    XIX. ADRIFT IN THE STORM               148
     XX. NODDY’S COMPANION                 156
    XXI. A RACE WITH NODDY                 164
   XXII. OVERHEARING A PLOT                172
  XXIII. THE MOTOR BOAT MISSING            182
   XXIV. THE SECRET OF THE COVE            189
    XXV. AT THE LIGHTHOUSE                 197
   XXVI. HELD PRISONERS                    206
  XXVII. TRYING TO ESCAPE                  215
 XXVIII. JESS TO THE RESCUE                223
   XXIX. THE RIGHT LIGHTS                  231
    XXX. JESSICA’S FATHER--CONCLUSION      239




THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC




CHAPTER I

LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE


“Oh! It’s yo heave ho! and never let go, while the stormy winds do
blow! blow! blow!”

“Is that you, Jerry Hopkins?” asked a youth, without looking up from a
box he was hammering, in the yard back of his home.

“Aye, aye, my hearty! Shiver my timbers messmate, but we’re in for
a spell of bad weather!” and Jerry walked up to where Bob Baker was
trying to drive a nail straight into a piece of board.

“Why this sudden nautical turn?” asked Bob, aiming a hard blow, in hope
of correcting a certain wobbly tendency on the part of the nail. “Is
there--Wow! Jimminy crickets!” and Bob began dancing about on one foot,
while his thumb was stuck in his mouth.

“What’s the matter, Chunky?” asked Jerry, giving Bob the nickname he
sometimes was called because of his general fleshiness. “Did you hit
your finger?”

“No, I’m doing this for amusement,” replied Bob, taking his injured
thumb from his mouth and gazing critically at the wounded member. “Um,
it’s going to swell,” he added.

“Put cold water on it,” Jerry advised. “That’s a good thing. Then wrap
it up in arnica.”

“Come on into the house,” Bob mumbled. “You can tell me the news there,
while I’m doctoring up.”

“What news?” asked Jerry.

“Why there must be something in the wind when you come around this way,
singing sea songs and walking like a sailor on a pitching deck.”

“Oh, yes, of course there’s some news,” Jerry went on. “I forgot about
it in the excitement of seeing you do that war dance. Well, it’s just
as I was singing. It’s going to be a life on the ocean wave for me this
summer vacation.”

“How’s that?”

“Mother is going to take a cottage on the Atlantic coast. Maybe I’ll
not have swell times! I’m going in bathing every day, and I can learn
all about a sail boat.”

Bob had been so busy looking for the arnica bottle, and a rag in which
to wrap his thumb, that he paid little attention to what Jerry was
saying, save in a vague sort of way. He caught the last reference to a
boat, however, and asked:

“You’re not going back on our motor boat, are you, when you say you’re
going to take up with a sail boat? Jerry I’m ashamed of you!”

“Go back on the dear _Dartaway_? I guess not much,” Jerry answered.
“But we can’t take her down with us, very well. The cottage is too
small.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bob said, in rather muffled tones, for he
held one end of a string in his mouth and was wrapping the other about
the rag on his thumb. “I wish we were going to the shore. The folks
don’t know yet what they will do. There, that feels better. When I turn
carpenter again you’ll know it.”

“What were you making?”

“Oh, the cook wanted something to keep the stove blacking in, and I
said I’d make it. Glad it’s finished though. Maybe she’ll give me
something to eat before dinner’s ready.”

“You don’t mean to say you’re going to eat again, and breakfast not
over more than two hours?”

“There you go, poking fun at my appetite as usual,” Bob complained.

“Well, it’s hard to forget it, since you always seem to have it with
you,” Jerry commented, referring to Bob’s one failing, if it could be
so called.

The Baker family’s cook entered the dining room at this point and Bob
mentioned that the box she had asked for was finished. Then, while the
woman was expressing her thanks, Bob added:

“You haven’t got any bread and butter and jam you could spare, have
you, Mary?”

“Sure there’s lots of it,” was the answer. “Though it’s not long since
I cleared off the breakfast things. Will I bring two plates?”

“Have some, Jerry?”

Jerry tried to struggle between wanting some of the good jam he knew
would be brought out, and his desire to maintain his attitude against
eating so soon after the morning meal. Bob watched him, and laughed.

“Of course you will, Jerry,” he said. “Bring two plates, and plenty of
jam.”

“Seen Ned since last night?” asked Jerry, as he spread the jam on his
bread.

“Nope, but he’s coming over this afternoon, and we were going out in
the boat,” replied Bob, hardly pausing between the bites. “Want to
come?”

“Speak of trolley cars and you’ll hear the gong,” remarked Jerry, as
he looked out of the window and saw Ned Slade across the street. Ned
observed his chums at the same instant and came over.

“At it again, Chunky?” he asked, as he saw the refreshments. “How many
meals so far to-day?”

“Help yourself,” replied Bob, not bothering to defend his character.

Ned lost little time in following his chums’ examples, and Bob, with a
laugh, rang the bell to have the cook bring more bread and butter. The
jam supply still held out.

“Let me make you acquainted with Willie-off-the-Yacht,” said Bob,
nodding toward Jerry.

“What’s the matter? Has he bought a pair of white duck trousers and a
cap?”

“Worse and more of it,” Bob answered. “He’s going to the seashore for
the summer, and learn to run a sail boat.”

“That’s so, it’s about time to think of where I’m going this summer,”
mused Ned. “I heard the folks say something about the mountains, but I
don’t know as I care for ’em. Wish we could do as we did last year, and
cruise about in the _Dartaway_.”

“Why can’t we?” asked Bob, spreading another piece of bread. “Jerry
says he’s going to the shore, where his mother is hiring a cottage.
Maybe I can persuade my folks to let me go down along the coast and
board; or perhaps they’d go along. Then if you could come, too, Ned, we
could take the _Dartaway_ with us, and run up and down the shore, and
have no end of good times. How about it?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ned replied. “I guess we could manage it. How
could we get the boat down?”

“Have it boxed and shipped, of course,” Bob replied. “It traveled a
good way over land before it got to us, and I guess it wouldn’t cost
much.”

“Say, that would be sport!” exclaimed Jerry. “There is just the place
for a motor boat where mother is going.”

“Where’s that?” asked Ned.

“Harmon Beach. There’s a sort of cove there, where the boats are
sheltered from storms. But you can go through the inlet right out to
sea, and then up and down the coast. The _Dartaway_ is big enough to
stand a bit of bad weather, if it don’t come too strong.”

“Then let’s do it,” exclaimed Bob. “I’ll speak to my folks right away,
and will you fellows do the same? Then we can talk it over again.”

“I’m pretty sure dad is going to the Berkshires,” Ned answered, “but I
don’t have to go with the rest of the family. I’ll find out as soon as
I can. Are there any good boarding houses at Harmon Beach, Jerry?”

“I don’t know much about that part of it, but I’ll ask mother to take a
larger cottage than she counted on and you two boys can come with me.”

“Fine!” cried the others. “That will be the best ever,” went on Bob.
“Here’s your hat, Jerry, go home and ask her right away.”

“Well, I like your nerve, Bob Baker!” exclaimed Jerry. “Nice way to
treat company! Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry? I’ll come again!”
and he pretended to get angry.

“Oh, you know I didn’t mean it that way!” cried Bob, fearing he had
offended his friend. “It’s only that we’re anxious, you know. I want--”

“Hark! What’s that?” cried Ned, running to the window, just as the
only ambulance the town of Cresville possessed, went by with the gong
clanging.

“Something has happened!” exclaimed Jerry. “See all the people running.”

The three boys hurried to the front door. The street was filled with a
hurrying and excited throng, every one going in the same direction.

“What’s the matter?” asked Bob, of a boy running past the house.

“Railroad collision! Lots killed! Down near the cut crossing!” the lad
exclaimed.

“Come on!” Jerry shouted. “Let’s go!”




CHAPTER II

THE RAILROAD WRECK


The boys grabbed up their hats, raced down the steps, and along the
street in the direction of the railroad. While they are on their way,
the reader may care to ascertain a little more about the three chums,
and something of their doings, which have been set forth in previous
volumes of this series.

Jerry Hopkins was the son of a well-to-do widow, Bob Baker the
offspring of a rich banker, while Ned Slade’s father owned a large
department store.

The first volume of the series, entitled “The Motor Boys,” told how
the lads took part in bicycle races, and how one of them won a fine
motor cycle. They incurred the enmity of Noddy Nixon, a town bully,
and his crony, Bill Berry. The chums had many experiences on their
motor cycles, and in a race they won a fine touring automobile.
Their adventures, and exciting ones they were, which followed the
acquisition of the car, were told of in the second volume, “The Motor
Boys Overland.” They went west to search for an old mine, of which a
prospector they had befriended had told them. They found the claim,
with the aid of Jim Nestor, though they had a close race with Noddy
Nixon and Bill Berry to get formal possession.

On their western trip the boys had become acquainted with an old man,
Professor Uriah Snodgrass, a naturalist, and he told them of an ancient
buried city in Old Mexico. The boys resolved to search for it, and
how they succeeded was set forth in the third volume, “The Motor Boys
in Mexico.” They had several fights with the Mexicans and Bob was
kidnapped, but escaped. The ancient city was found, very unexpectedly,
as the auto sunk down through a concealed road and coursed along an
underground passage. There many strange things occurred, including the
discovery of the disappearing reservoir, and a valuable box of jewels.

The boys decided to visit their mine, on their way back to the United
States, and it was a good thing they did, as it had fallen into the
possession of the plotters, as related in “The Motor Boys Across the
Plains.” An old hermit, who lived near a lake, proved to be the father
of a boy the three chums rescued from a desperate gang and, later, the
hermit was of much assistance in retaining possession of the mine for
the motor boys, since he was one of the original prospectors.

The boys returned home after that. They had saved quite a sum of money
from their share of the mine profits, and invested it in a fine motor
boat, the _Dartaway_. As set forth in the fifth volume of the series,
entitled “The Motor Boys Afloat,” the three chums transferred their
energies to river and lake, and took part in races, foiled the plot
Noddy Nixon laid, and solved the mystery of a strange schooner and the
robbery of Mr. Slade’s store. They had an exciting chase after the
thieves, rendering the police much assistance.

All their adventures took place during their school vacations. Now
another one was at hand, and, naturally enough, the boys wanted to have
as much fun as had fallen to their lot in the past. But, while they
were racing to the railroad wreck, their minds were more on that than
on what the summer might hold for them.

“I wonder if many are killed?” Bob said.

“Looks as though some were, as there goes the morgue wagon. There must
be a number injured, too,” Jerry replied. “There go Dr. Bounce, Dr.
Jones and Dr. Hardy,” and he pointed to the carriages of the three
physicians. The medical men were urging their horses to a gallop.

Following the crowd the boys soon found themselves near the railroad,
which swept up to Cresville in a long curve, after passing through a
deep cut. It was in this cut where the wreck had occurred. The boys
could see, from the top of a little hill, a great crowd gathered about
the entrance to the gorge.

“Come on!” cried Ned. “Maybe we can help!”

It was a terrible sight that met the boys’ eyes as they entered the
narrow cut. As they learned later a defective rail had caused the
smash-up. The engine had jumped the track, and crashed into the rocky
sides of the defile. The cars had piled on top of the locomotive, and
there was a mass of wreckage.

Wheels and trucks were scattered about. The top of one car had been
sliced off, and was resting on the coach in front of it. Another car
was almost inside of another, and the smoker had mounted the engine
tender, the wheels being buried in the coal and water tank.

Fortunately it was summer, and there was no fire in the cars, so the
wreckage did not ignite. The coals from the engine boiler had started
a small blaze, but this had been put out.

The train was a through one, not scheduled to stop at Cresville, and
there had been comparatively few passengers aboard.

The rescuers were already at work. Several bodies had been carried
from the wreck, and placed on beds made from the car seats. One or two
silent forms, under shawls and blankets, told, better than words, that
death had come swiftly to the unfortunates.

There were several badly injured, and it was to them that the
physicians gave prompt attention. The majority of the hurt were women
and children, though there were some men. Only the fact that travel was
light, just preceding the annual vacation rush, prevented a terrible
loss of life.

At first the boys did not know what to do to assist, though they felt
they should help, as far as possible. They stood in the front of the
crowd, which the railroad men were endeavoring to keep back, and looked
on, their hearts palpitating with the terrible sights they witnessed.
As they stood there Dr. Bounce, who had just finished bandaging up a
man’s leg, came past. He knew the three boys, and, as he saw them, he
called:

“Here, Jerry, you and your friends come in here and help me, will you?
I’ve got my hands full. One of you carry my medicine case, and the
others rummage around and get all the cloth you can for bandages. Tear
up the sheets in the sleeper. That is the last car and didn’t smash up
as badly as the others.”

Anxious to take part in the work, and glad to be called on by Dr.
Bounce, the boys slipped through the cordon of railroad men, who, at a
nod from the physician, let them pass, and followed the doctor.

Jerry took the medical man’s valise, containing its grim instruments
and also the healing remedies, and the merciful chloroform to relieve
pain. Ned and Bob found their way to the wrecked sleeper. No one was in
it, and they got an axe and broke open some of the berths, which were
jammed shut. They took out pillows, sheets and blankets, which willing
hands soon distributed among the wounded.

The two boys tore the sheets into long strips that Dr. Bounce and the
other physicians used to bind up the cuts and bruises of the wounded.
As fast as the passengers were taken from the wreck they were put on
improvised stretchers and carried out of the dark and gloomy gorge to
the level land beyond, where the doctors could work over them.

Jerry was kept busy attending on Dr. Bounce, handing him this
instrument or that, and pouring out the medicines under the physician’s
directions.

The scene was one of confusion and terror. Cries and groans of the
wounded mingled with the weeping of those who had lost loved ones in
the crash. Then came the noise of axes, hammers and saws on wood, the
implements being used to free some imprisoned victims, held down by
heavy timbers.

It seemed that all were now rescued who could escape by their own
efforts or be carried out by the workers. There only remained the
possible dead under the wreck and those who might be held fast in it.
The boys had a brief respite from their strenuous labors. They were
standing together, hardly able to realize what they had seen and taken
part in.

Suddenly a small boy rushed up to where the chums were standing. He
seemed greatly excited.

“Come here, quick!” he called.

“What is it, Andy Rush?” asked Bob.

“Man--pinned under a big beam--groaning awful--makes me have the
shivers--I tried to get him--couldn’t--head hurt I guess--come
on--help me--we’ll save his life,” and finishing his usual disjointed
and rapid-fire remarks Andy hurried off, followed by the three chums on
the run.

He led them to the rear end of a telescoped car. There, pinned under
a pile of seats, was a gray haired man, his white locks stained with
blood. He was groaning feebly.

With a quick eye Jerry saw one particular plank that was holding the
others like a wedge. He caught up a hammer and, with a few heavy blows,
knocked the splintered timber out of place. Then he and the other boys
were able to lift the man out. As they carried him to where the other
wounded were lying on improvised cots, the wounded passenger murmured:

“Jess!--Jess!--Where are you? Jess! Jess!”




CHAPTER III

A QUEER OLD MAN


“Here, Dr. Bounce!” called Jerry, as he and his chums laid the aged
man down on a pile of car cushions, “here’s a man who needs your
attention,” and the physician, who was hurrying past, stopped.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Got him out of the wreck,” replied Ned.

“Well, you boys are certainly doing good work,” Dr. Bounce remarked.
He bent over the old man and felt of his head. “Skull fractured,” he
murmured. “Not much chance.”

By this time the ambulance which had made several trips came back, and
in it the man the boys had saved was taken to the hospital, being one
of the last to go.

Never before had there been such excitement in Cresville. The whole
town was aroused, and every one offered some aid to the wounded. There
were a number taken to private houses, and cared for there, as the
hospital was a small one.

Soon the wrecking crew came, the men working rapidly to get the tracks
cleared. Because the smash had occurred in the cut there was no chance
to build a temporary track around it, as is sometimes done.

Then came a swarm of reporters from Boston, which was not far from
Cresville. They kept the telegraph wires fairly sizzling with
dispatches, telling of the terrible wreck.

A big crowd remained at the scene long after the damaged cars and
engine had been hauled away, and the line put in shape for use, which
was late in the afternoon. The three boys, who, to tell the truth, were
nervous and upset from the unaccustomed sights, left shortly after the
old man had been taken away.

“Well,” remarked Bob, as they strolled back toward his house, “it would
be hard to beat that for excitement.”

“What were we doing just before it happened?” asked Ned. “It seems like
a week ago when we ran out to join the crowd.”

“We were talking about going to the shore with our motor boat,” Jerry
put in.

“Oh, yes. Well, let’s see if we can’t work that scheme. Suppose you two
come over to my house this afternoon,” spoke Ned.

His chums said they would, and then the three separated, their minds
filled with a strange combination; the pleasures that might be in store
for them mingling with the sad memories of the wreck.

Jerry spoke of the boys’ plan to his mother at dinner. She took a
little time to think it over, and then announced she would try to get a
large cottage if possible.

“Ned and Bob can come and stay with you,” she said, “that is if their
folks will let them. I want to see you all have a good time, and I
believe the motor boat will be just the thing at the shore. Only you
must be very careful. When I think of some of the things you and your
friends went through with, Jerry, it frightens me.”

“Well, I guess we can look after ourselves, mother. We’ve pulled out of
some pretty tight places.”

Mrs. Hopkins wrote a letter to a real estate agent at Harmon Beach, and
Jerry was so anxious to have the plan succeed that he did not forget to
mail the epistle which his mother gave him to post as he was going out.
It was the first time such a thing had occurred in quite a while, as
Jerry had a bad habit of forgetting to drop letters in the post-office.

Happy in the anticipation that he and his chums would be able to spend
the summer together, Jerry whistled a gleeful mixture of all the sea
songs he had ever heard, as he hurried over to Ned’s house. He found
both his chums there.

“How about it?” asked Ned.

“My part is all right,” announced Jerry, “though of course it depended
on whether a large-enough cottage can be secured.” But he did not think
that detail worth bothering about. If worst came to worst he knew he
and his chums would sleep on the floor in one room.

“I can go,” Bob announced, and Ned chimed in to say his parents had no
objections if he was to stay at Mrs. Hopkins’s house.

“Then it’s all arranged,” Jerry said, in boyish confidence. “Now we’ll
have to overhaul the _Dartaway_, and get her in shape. A new awning
would do no harm, and I think we’ll need a little heavier anchor.”

With boundless enthusiasm the boys began to discuss their plans. They
jumped from one thing to another, from the possibility of cruising half
way to Florida to doing deep-sea-fishing in their motor boat.

“We’ll have the time of our lives,” said Bob. “We’ll--”

At that instant the door of the sitting room where the chums were
opened and Dr. Bounce entered.

“You boys were talking so loudly you didn’t hear me knock I guess,” he
said.

“Is any one sick?” inquired Ned, thinking the medical man had called to
attend some one.

“Not here,” replied Dr. Bounce, “but there are enough cases in town to
keep ten doctors busy. No, I called about that old man you helped get
out of the wreck.”

“Is he dead?” asked Jerry.

“I’m afraid he can’t last long. He regained consciousness a little
while ago, and wanted the three boys who took him from under the seats
to be sent for. Do any of you know him?”

“Why, no. Did he mention any of us by name?” inquired Bob.

“No, but he insisted he wanted to see the three boys, and I happened
to remember it was you who saved him. He seems to have something on
his mind. Perhaps it will make him rest more easily if you go to the
hospital and see him. It may be only an odd fancy, but sometimes we
have to humor our patients. Will you go?”

The boys said they would, and while they were getting their hats Dr.
Bounce told them how he had first gone to Jerry’s house and then to
Bob’s, before he arrived at Ned’s.

The hospital was so crowded with patients from the wreck that even the
office of the superintendent and some of the doctors’ rooms were used.
On cots in them were men and women; some badly injured.

The aged man had a small room to himself, as his case was regarded as
critical. Dr. Bounce, preceding the three boys, entered. He paused for
a few seconds regarding the patient, who seemed to be sleeping. Then
the physician turned, and silently beckoned the boys to approach. As
they came near the old man opened his eyes and regarded them curiously
for a moment.

“Are these the boys you wanted to see?” inquired Dr. Bounce.

“Yes, yes,” was the eager reply. The man tried to raise himself in bed,
but was so weak he fell back on the pillow.

“Calm yourself,” said Dr. Bounce soothingly. “You must not get excited.
What did you want of the boys?”

“I want Jess,” murmured the man, looking first at one of the boys, and
then at the other. “I was on my way to get her, after long years of
separation, when there came a terrible blow on my head.”

“But what have the boys to do with it, and who is Jess?” asked Dr.
Bounce.

“They will find her for me. They know where she is. Where the great
light is. They can find her. They are smart boys. I can see that.” Then
his mind wandered. “I must have my Jess. Maybe she was killed in the
wreck! Oh, boys, please find her for me! Perhaps she is pinned down
under the seat where you rescued me!”

The chums looked at each other curiously. Dr. Bounce placed his hand on
the old man’s pulse.

“Tell us who you are,” the physician said. “Who is Jess, and how can
the boys find her?”

“Jess--Jess--where the great light shines at night,--Bring her to me--I
am--I am--Jess--the boys will find you--they will save you! Oh, the
awful crash!”

The next instant the old man, who, in his excitement, had risen from
the pillow fell backward, and his eyes closed. A terror seemed to grip
the boys’ hearts. They thought they had seen death come. Dr. Bounce
rang a bell to summon a nurse.

“He has become unconscious again after his raving,” the doctor said.
“I’m afraid my experiment was a failure. Do you know who Jess is, or
what he is referring to about the ‘great light,’ boys?”

“Not in the least,” replied Jerry, and his chums said the same.

“Was any one of that name killed or hurt in the wreck?” Dr. Bounce went
on.

“No,” replied Bob. “I have looked over the list as published in one of
the extras, and all the passengers are accounted for. No one was named
Jess.”

“Do you suppose he could have meant a dog called Jess?” came from Ned.
“He seemed to think some one might be pinned down under the seats where
he was.”

“But he spoke of going to claim her after a long separation,” Dr.
Bounce went on, while the nurse was administering medicine to the
unconscious patient. “That would apply only to a person. No, I believe
Jess is a girl or a woman. There seems to be some mystery connected
with her.”

“Maybe we will happen to solve it some day,” remarked Jerry. “I wonder
what he meant by the ‘great light?’”




CHAPTER IV

OFF TO THE COAST


“Perhaps a search light on some vessel,” put in Ned. “He looks like a
seafaring man.”

“I think you boys had better go, now,” said Dr. Bounce. “We will have
to operate on the patient, but I am afraid it will be a long time
before he recovers his senses. If he does and wants to see you, I will
let you know. I would like to get at the bottom of this. Strange, he
should think you boys could rescue Jess. Stranger still, who is Jess?”

But, for a while at least, there was no prospect of solving the strange
meaning of the old man. His condition grew worse, and there was little
hope for him.

That night the boys heard that though the operation was performed it
was not entirely successful. A piece of bone was pressing on the man’s
brain, and it was found impossible to remove it until his condition
improved. Consequently he remained in a stupor, and could not talk. He
murmured, in his delirium, Dr. Bounce said, something about Jess and
the light, and there he stopped.

Three days after the wreck Mrs. Hopkins got a letter from the real
estate agent informing her he had been able to secure a large cottage,
close to the beach. It was on a small cove, and there was a boathouse
near by.

“Fine!” cried Jerry when he heard of it. “Now to get the _Dartaway_
ready. Whoop! But life is worth living, I tell you!” and he began to
dance a jig with such vigor that the dishes on the sideboard rattled.

“Jerry, you’ll smash some of my fine cut glass!” exclaimed Mrs. Hopkins
in alarm, yet she could not help being glad that she was able to
provide a summer’s outing for her son and his chums.

“I’m going over to tell Ned and Bob,” Jerry said, rushing from the
house. As he hurried down the steps he collided with a youth who was
just then passing the house.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Jerry, his breath almost taken away by
the sudden impact.

“You did that on purpose! You saw me coming and tried to knock me
down!” exclaimed the youth, and Jerry saw it was Noddy Nixon, the old
enemy of himself and his chums.

“Why, Noddy,” remarked Jerry, much surprised at the sudden encounter
and the identity of the youth. “Where did you come from? Haven’t seen
you since--”

Jerry was about to say he had not met Noddy since the time of the chase
after the thieves in the motor boat, and the escape of Bill Berry and
Noddy, as told in the fifth volume of this series, “The Motor Boys
Afloat.” But he thought better of it, and stopped in time.

“Don’t you make any references to me,” said Noddy, as he rubbed his
shin, which Jerry had accidentally kicked. “If you spread any scandals
about me I’ll have you sued. I’ve a good notion to have you arrested
for assault and battery!”

“Look here, Noddy Nixon!” exclaimed Jerry. “I apologized for colliding
with you. That’s all I’m going to do. You can put that in your pipe and
smoke it,” and without a look at the bully Jerry turned and walked off.

“You’ll pay for this, Jerry Hopkins,” called Noddy. “I’ll get even with
you.”

Jerry had heard Noddy threaten like that before, and, generally the
bully had found means to make it very uncomfortable for the chums. But
Jerry did not fear him, and he felt he could hold up his own end fairly
well. As for his friends, he did not worry on their account.

“I wonder where he’s been all this while,” Jerry mused, as he continued
on toward Bob’s house. “He has a queer way of disappearing and coming
back at the most unexpected times.”

“What’s the matter, going into your second childhood, Jerry?” some one
asked, and Jerry looked up suddenly, to see Bob standing in front of
him.

“Hello, Chunky,” he called. “What’s that?”

“You were talking to yourself like an old man,” explained Bob. “I was
getting worried about you.”

“Oh, I just had a little run-in with Noddy Nixon,” Jerry explained,
smiling as he recalled how well his words described what had taken
place.

“So he’s back, eh? Well, look out for trouble.”

“Guess it can’t amount to much. We will be away from here in another
week.”

“Did your mother get the cottage?”

“Sure. Come on, let’s tell Ned.”

The three boys were soon at Bob’s house discussing their plans in
detail. Their interest in them made them forget Noddy and the trouble
he threatened. But, had they seen a letter which the bully posted a
short time after, addressed to Bill Berry, and accepting a certain
invitation, they might have felt a little worried.

“We’ve got to hustle to get things in shape,” said Bob, when the date
of departure had been settled. “The first thing is to arrange to have
the boat shipped. Let’s go over to the freight office and see the
agent. I--”

Bob was interrupted at that instant by the entrance of the cook, with a
tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of milk.

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know there were three of you here,” and she
looked at Bob, who grinned sheepishly.

“Chunky!” exclaimed Ned. “Did you order all this for yourself,” and he
gazed reproachfully at his chum.

“Well you see I told her to get it ready a while ago,” explained Bob.
“I didn’t know then you two were coming over. I went out to post a
letter and I met Jerry and we saw you. Then I forgot all about this
until--but she’ll get some more, won’t you Mary?”

“Sure, Master Bob, if you want it.”

“I move that Bob be compelled to sit there and see Jerry and I eat all
this up,” spoke Ned, beginning with a sandwich in each hand.

Poor Chunky looked so woe-begone at this inroad on his rations that his
two chums laughed.

“Oh, pitch in!” said Jerry. “I know how you feel, Bob. It must be all
of two hours since you had anything to eat.”

Over their lunch the boys laid out their work, dividing it among
themselves so as to get it all done in time. Bob was to attend to the
shipping arrangements, Ned to refitting the boat, and Jerry said he
would sort over the portable camping outfit the boys always took with
them.

The _Dartaway_ was a fine, stanch craft, of four cylinders, as speedy
as one could wish. It had many new appliances, such as three speeds
forward and one reverse, and was well fitted up. There was a small
galley where a meal could be cooked, and a folding table to serve it
on. The stove burned gasolene.

There was a portable awning which had side curtains, so the whole boat
could be enclosed in stormy weather. There were also collapsible bunks,
so, if necessary they could remain on board several days without going
ashore. There were food lockers and a good sized storage tank for
gasolene.

In anticipation that they might make rather lengthy trips the boys got
a larger searchlight for their craft than the one they had first used,
and also a larger saluting cannon. A more reliable compass was added
to the equipment, and the size of the whistle was increased, to give
better precaution in case of fogs.

An anchor, as large as could be carried, was installed, and, with
several other minor, but necessary improvements, the boys felt they had
a motor craft second to none for its size.

It was no easy task to box the boat and ship it to Harmon Beach.
But the boys worked like Trojans, and accomplished much that less
enthusiastic persons would have shrunk from undertaking. Finally they
saw the _Dartaway_ loaded on a flat car at the freight office.

“Now to get ourselves off,” said Jerry.

But this was an easier task. Three days later found Mrs. Hopkins at her
summer cottage. It would not be quite correct to say that the boys were
there also, for they had no sooner alighted from the train than they
hurried to the freight office to see if their boat had arrived.

“There she is!” cried Jerry, pointing to a bulky object on the station
platform. “Now for a spin on salt water.”

But there was a wait of several hours before the boys’ desires were
realized. Only their boundless enthusiasm and their tireless energy
made it possible, but, by evening the boat had been hauled to the small
dock near Mrs. Hopkins’s cottage, and launched.

The boys did not stop to fully equip her. They saw that the engine was
working well, and, just at dusk, three happy, if very tired lads, sat
in the _Dartaway_ and sent the craft in a wide circle around the little
cove on which the colony of Harmon Beach was situated.

“Put out toward Old Briny!” called Ned to Jerry, who was steering, and
Jerry, nothing loath, did so.

As the speedy craft surged ahead, throwing up a salty spray, the boys
heard a hail behind them.

“Here! Come back!” some one called.




CHAPTER V

CAUGHT IN A SQUALL


“Who is it?” asked Jerry.

“Seems to be some one in another motor boat,” Bob replied. “He’s waving
at us.”

“Maybe he wants a race,” suggested Ned.

“Well, he can have it if he catches up to us,” Jerry responded. “I’m
not going to race otherwise. The _Dartaway_ is not in her best trim,
and she may get beaten. Then we’ll get the name of having a slow boat.
We’ll have a regular race later, when we are in better shape,” and he
put on a little more speed.

Still from behind came the cry over the water:

“Come back! Come back!”

“Oh, cut it out!” exclaimed Bob as he felt the salt wind and spray in
his face. “We can’t bother with you. We’re out for a good time. Catch
us if you can!”

“Isn’t this glorious!” exclaimed Ned. “Say, but I’m glad we came!”

The _Dartaway_ had increased her speed considerably and was fairly
flying through the water. The boys could no longer hear the hailing of
the lone man in the boat behind, though they could still see him coming
after them.

“Guess if he wants a race he’ll feel sort of discouraged,” Jerry
remarked, as he put the wheel over a bit to meet an oncoming wave.

“Funny sort of a chap,” said Bob. “Thinks we ought to stop for him, I
s’pose.”

The craft was now approaching one of the two points of land which
enclosed the cove of Harmon Beach. The wind, which had been blowing
quite strongly, increased in volume and the water became a little
rougher. Still there had been just as much disturbance on Lake Cantoga,
where the boys had cut their eye teeth in running a boat, and they were
not alarmed.

It was getting dusk now, and, off to the east there was a curious haze
hanging over the water. Jerry, who was peering sharply ahead, remarked:

“Looks like breakers beyond,” for he had caught sight of some white
caps.

“We don’t mind them,” said Ned. “I guess our boat is strong enough to
navigate through ’em.”

“Our friend seems to have given up trying to catch us,” Bob said.

“He never had a chance,” came from Ned.

“Hold hard!” Jerry suddenly cried. “Look out!”

An instant later a shower of spray flew over the boat, wetting the boys.

“Hurrah! It’s salt water!” yelled Ned.

“Old Briny!” cried Bob.

“Of course it is,” spoke Jerry, as he wiped the water from his eyes.
“We’re right out on the ocean now.”

“Really?” asked Ned, hardly able to believe it.

“Sure,” Jerry added. “We’ve gotten beyond the point of the cove and
it’s open water ahead of us now. Europe lies just beyond. Shall we put
for it?”

Another dash of spray caused the boys to duck.

“Not to-night,” came from Bob. “There’s nothing on board to eat.”

“You’d think of that if you were headed straight for Davy Jones’s
locker,” exclaimed Ned. “Why can’t you forget it, Chunky?”

“This sea air gives me such an appetite,” replied the stout youth.

“Well, we haven’t anything on board to--” began Ned, when his remarks
were suddenly interrupted by a roll of the boat that nearly threw him
over the side.

“Look out!” cried Jerry. “Here comes a big wave!”

Almost as he spoke there was a rush of greenish-white water and
something more substantial than spray came aboard the _Dartaway_.

At the same instant there was an increase in the force of the wind,
which fairly howled overhead, and sent the spume from the crests of the
waves with stinging force into the faces of the boys.

“What is it?” panted Bob, as he tried to get his breath, after
swallowing a mouthful of salt water.

“We seem to have gotten out to sea in a hurry,” replied Jerry.

“It’s beginning to rain!” yelled Ned.

Then everything seemed blotted out by a gray blanket of mist, caused by
the drenching downpour. The boys were wet through in an instant, though
they tried to cover themselves with some pieces of canvas.

In their hurry to get the boat into the water they had not set the
awning. In fact the craft was not at all equipped for a trip, beyond
the fact that she could go, since there was plenty of gasolene in the
tank.

The _Dartaway_ was rocking and bobbing about on the rough water, for,
once beyond the protection of the cove, the full force of the waves
and wind was felt.

“Turn around, Jerry!” yelled Bob.

“Yes! Put back!” cried Ned.

“Too risky!” sung out Jerry. “I’ve got to keep her head into the wind,”
and he swung the wheel around to meet a big wave.

The crested roller of green water struck the boat half broadside on.
Considerable came aboard, but the _Dartaway_, after staggering a bit
under the weight, rose to it like a duck, and went on. Jerry started
the automatic pump and the water was soon forced out.

“Say, we are in for it!” Bob yelled.

“It’s nothing but a squall!” Jerry called back. He did not have time to
turn around, because he had to devote all his attention to the wheel.

“What are you going to do?” asked Ned, shouting the words out. Indeed
nothing less than a yell could have been heard above the roar of the
wind, the swish of the rain and the splash of the water as it struck
the side of the little craft.

“Going to keep on,” replied Jerry grimly. “It’s all I can do. If I turn
back I’ll be swamped. Maybe I can run into a quiet cove, somewhere
along the beach.”

The squall was now raging in all its sudden, but short-lasting fury.
Though the boys realized it would not keep up its capers very long,
they knew that their position was anything but a safe one. It was
nearly dusk, with the dying light of sunset hidden by the mist and
clouds.

Still, as Jerry had said, there was nothing to do but keep on. By doing
so the bow of the boat could be held so as to cleave the waves. To turn
meant to get them broadside on and this would soon swamp the craft.

“Isn’t there some place we can put in to?” yelled Ned.

“Don’t know of any,” Jerry called back.

Down came the rain, harder than before, and the wind seemed to howl in
glee at the plight of the boys. The craft was tossing to and fro on the
waves, which, while not of any extraordinary size, were almost too big
for the _Dartaway_. They would have amounted to nothing for a larger
boat, with more freeboard than had the motor craft.

Ned and Bob crouched in the bottom of the boat, to render it more
steady, while Jerry clung to the wheel, which now and then was almost
jerked from his hand by the force of the water on the rudder.

Every now and then the salt spray would dash over the craft, adding its
saline dampness to that caused by the rain. It was now quite dark,
with the rain making it all the more difficult to see. Jerry tried to
pierce the gloom, for he had no more idea where he was going than a
blind man. He knew he had started to pass out of the harbor of Harmon
Beach, between the two points of land, and that he was steering east
then. But, whether he had kept the boat headed in that direction was a
question he could not answer.

In spite of it all the _Dartaway_ was behaving admirably. She stood up
to the attack of the waves and wind like a veteran. It was her baptism
of the Atlantic, and she seemed to rejoice in it.

“Hark! I hear something!” cried Ned.

The boys listened as well as they could above the throbbing of the
engine. Over the storm-swept waters there sounded three long whistles.

“It’s a boat!” cried Bob. “Look out, or she’ll run us down!”

“Can’t tell where she is,” Jerry answered, his hand on the lever to
stop the engine in an instant.

“It’s behind us,” Ned shouted, standing up and trying to see to the
rear.

Once more the whistle sounded. This time it was clearer, and in spite
of the roar of the wind and the swish of the waves the boys could hear
the throb of a boat engine.

“Some one is coming after us!” exclaimed Bob.

Just then, through the mist of the storm there shone a great light,
full on the _Dartaway_. It flashed a glaring beacon on the boat, and
then suddenly it turned red, flashed twice, and disappeared.




CHAPTER VI

THE RACE


“What was that?” cried Ned.

“Lightning!” came from Bob.

“Lightning doesn’t act that way!” Jerry replied. He put the wheel over
to meet an on-coming roller. As he did so the queer light flashed out
again. First it was white, and then it changed to red, showing twice
and going out.

“It’s a lighthouse!” cried Jerry. “I forgot there is one near here.
It’s near a dangerous ledge of rocks, which are off shore.”

“Then we’d better stop!” cried Ned. “We may sink the boat.”

“Can’t turn around now. Too risky.”

Suddenly three sharp whistles sounded so close to the _Dartaway_ that
the boys jumped in fright. They thought they were about to be run down.
Then came a hail:

“Say, what you chaps trying to do? Commit suicide?”

“Who are you?” called Jerry, slowing down the engine.

“This is the _Three Bells_. Who are you?”

“_Dartaway._”

“Where from?”

“Harmon Beach.”

Out of the mist there loomed up alongside of the boys’ boat another
motor craft. It was nearly twice the size of theirs, and the throb of
the engine, though it was running slow and on low gear, told better
than words of the power of it.

The rain ceased, almost as suddenly as it had started and the fury of
the squall, having blown itself out, subsided. The wind died away, and,
though there was a long swell on, the storm was practically over. It
grew a little lighter with the dispersing of the mist.

The boys sized up the newcomer. The boat was about fifty feet long,
and had a small cabin. It was operated by a gasolene motor of eight
cylinders. Beside it the _Dartaway_ looked small.

“Are you the boys who sailed out of the cove this evening?” asked the
steersman of the _Three Bells_.

“I guess we are,” Jerry replied. He had stopped his engine, as had the
skipper of the other craft, which contained two men.

“Didn’t you hear some one hail you?”

“Yes,” said Jerry. “We thought it was some one wanting to race, and we
weren’t in trim for a brush. We haven’t got our boat fixed up yet, so
we decided to pay no attention to it. Was it you?”

“No, it was one of the coast fishermen,” replied the captain of the
_Three Bells_.

“Did he want to race?” asked Ned, curious to understand why a fisherman
should want to challenge them.

“Race? I guess not,” was the man’s reply. “Why he was calling you to
come back because he saw the squall coming up. He sized you up for
newcomers at the beach, and knew you probably didn’t know anything
about the weather here. We have some pretty bad storms, and they come
up in an instant and without warning. The fisherman was able to see it
getting ready to break, and he didn’t want you to venture out. But it
seems you went, anyhow.”

“Yes, and we had quite a time,” returned Jerry. “But the _Dartaway_
stood it all right.”

“More good luck than good management,” was the comment. “Why, half the
people at the beach probably believe you drowned by now.”

“How’s that?” asked Bob.

“The fisherman, when he saw he couldn’t catch you, came back and gave
the alarm.”

“I wonder if my mother is worried,” Jerry said. “We must hurry back.”

“Did you come out for us?” asked Bob of the _Three Bells’_ captain.

“That’s what I did,” was the answer. “I knew how risky it was out here,
in a small boat, so I hustled out after you. You must have gone a
pretty good clip, for I couldn’t catch you for some time.”

“Well, the _Dartaway_ has some speed,” admitted Jerry with a little
note of pride in his voice.

“We’ll have to enter her in the races next week. Oh, by the way, allow
me to introduce myself. I’m Captain James Jenkinson.”

Jerry told his own name, and those of his companions.

“Well, the squall’s about over now,” said Captain Jenkinson. “I guess
it’s safe enough to go back. Are you all right?”

“All except being wet through,” Ned replied.

“And hungry,” put in Bob, whereat his chums laughed.

“I can give you a tow back,” Captain Jenkinson went on. “We might make
it a little quicker.”

“I guess the _Dartaway_ can make it under her own power,” Jerry said.
He was not going to accept any assistance not really needed.

“All right,” Captain Jenkinson responded, probably understanding how
the boys felt. “You can follow me in, as I can probably pick out the
best channel for you.”

This aid the boys had no compunctions about accepting, and, as Jerry
turned the gasolene on, and shoved the spark lever over, the _Dartaway_
shot ahead. Jerry steered her in a curve after the _Three Bells_, which
was heading back toward the harbor.

“I say!” called Captain Jenkinson.

“What is it?” cried Jerry.

“If you ever come out this way again, look out for the rocks. They’re
indicated by a red and white striped buoy for days, but the lighthouse
marks them by night. They’re bad ones, so look out.”

“Thanks, we will,” shouted Bob.

It was now very dark, but the lights of the _Three Bells_ enabled the
boys to follow her. She made a fast pace, but the _Dartaway_ was no
slow boat, and in about an hour Jerry swung his craft into the little
cove.

“See you to-morrow perhaps,” called Captain Jenkinson, as he increased
the speed of his craft, and steered toward the boathouse on the
opposite shore to where Mrs. Hopkins had her cottage.

“Good-bye!” shouted the boys.

A few minutes later the _Dartaway_ was at her dock, and three soaking
wet, and somewhat tired, but very proud boys strolled up to the cottage.

“Good boat we’ve got,” observed Jerry. “Hard to beat, eh, fellows?”

“Now you’re talking,” said Bob. “I believe we could cross the Atlantic
in her--if we could take along enough to eat,” he added quickly.

The boys found Mrs. Hopkins so busy with the servants arranging the
cottage, that she had hardly given the lads a thought. She did not
even know they had gone out in the boat, so the storm had not worried
her. However, a number of the cottagers, who paid more attention to
the boating affairs, had heard of the boys’ peril and were relieved to
learn they got back safely. There was no small appreciation of their
pluck, after Captain Jenkinson had told of the affair.

When Mrs. Hopkins heard of it she was, at first, much frightened over
the danger the boys had escaped. But Jerry assured her they could
look out for themselves, and, on his promise to use all precautions
thereafter in going out of the cove in the boat, his mother placed no
restrictions on his actions.

For three days after this the boys were kept busy fixing up their
craft. They put the new saluting cannon in the bow, strung new rudder
lines, which had been strained during the squall, and cleaned the
engine. They were burnishing up the brass work, one afternoon, when
some one entered the boathouse.

“Where are the three boy sailors?” a hearty voice asked.

“Come in!” cried Jerry, and Captain Jenkinson entered.

“Hard at work, eh?” he asked. “That’s right, can’t take too much care
of your boat and engine. They do better work the more time you put on
them, and you never can tell when you may need an extra bit of speed.”

Captain Jenkinson told the boys of some informal races that had been
arranged among the owners of motor boats. There were half a dozen, he
said, who had entered their craft, and he asked if the boys did not
want to take part in the contest.

Of course they were delighted, and the captain said he would arrange to
have them formally entered. The races were to take place in the cove
the next Tuesday. The course was a triangular one, about three miles in
all, and the prize was a silver cup.

In the interval the boys found time to take several short cruises. They
found their craft was working well, and, in several little impromptu
contests, they “put it all over the other boats,” to use Bob’s
expression.

There were seven entries for the race, including the _Dartaway_. As
Captain Jenkinson’s boat was so powerful, and outclassed the others so
much, he did not enter but allowed the judges to use her.

“Do you think we have any chance?” asked Ned, the morning of the
contest.

“Sure,” replied Jerry, who was going to steer. “I don’t say we’ll win,
but we’ll come near it. You and Bob want to keep the engine well oiled.
Guess I’ll rig up a spare set of batteries, in case of accident. I’ll
have ’em ready to switch on in a second if the magneto or the regular
batteries fail.”

“The only boat I’m afraid of is the _Snail_,” said Ned. “She’s just the
opposite to her name, and the other day she went way ahead of us.”

“Our engine wasn’t sparking good that time,” Jerry remarked.

The race was a handicap one,--that is the boats were graded according
to the size of their cylinders and the horse-power of the engines. This
grading made the _Dartaway_ and _Snail_ take fourth place. Three other
boats started off ten seconds ahead of them, and two large boats ten
seconds after them.

The cove was dotted with craft the afternoon of the race. It was hard
to keep them clear of the course, but by dint of circling around it
several times Captain Jenkinson was able to make the owners of other
boats understand he meant business.

At the crack of a revolver the three first boats started off, the
explosions of their engines, from which the mufflers had been taken,
sounding like a battery of Gatling guns in full action.

The three boys nervously awaited the signal that was to send them off.
Jerry kept watch of those aboard the _Snail_, which contained three
youths.

Crack! went the pistol, and Jerry threw in the first speed clutch, for,
as in the case of the other boats, the engine had been kept running,
though not in gear.

The _Dartaway_ jumped ahead like a hungry fish after a small frog.
Likewise did the _Snail_, and, with the engines working almost at full
speed the two rival craft surged through the water.

Side by side they kept. Jerry threw in second gear and the captain of
the _Snail_ did likewise. Jerry decided to run on that for a while, and
trust to the power of the motor, which Ned and Bob were looking after.

Jerry dimly heard the revolver shot that sent the two last boats off.
But he did not care for them. He wanted to overhaul those in the lead.
This he seemed in a fair way to be able to do. None of the craft was
speedy, and, though their ten seconds start gave them an advantage, the
_Dartaway_ was soon close to the rear one.

Notch by notch Jerry gave the engine more gasolene, and, notch by notch
he advanced the spark lever. He was crouching down low, as were the
other boys, to offer less resistance to the wind. Slowly the _Dartaway_
was creeping up to one of the leading boats, and a little later passed
it. Then it overhauled another.

Just as the first leg of the triangular course was rounded Jerry threw
in the third speed, and shut off a little of the power. At the same
instant he passed the last one of the three boats that had gotten off
first and the _Dartaway_ was now in the lead. A thrill possessed him.
The _Dartaway_ might win.

But, as he turned his head, he saw that the _Snail_ had also crept up,
until, passing the others, it was on even terms with the boys’ boat.
The _Dartaway_ was not going to have things her own way.

Jerry had no thought for the other craft now. It was a contest with the
_Snail_ only. The two boats were evenly matched and those aboard knew
best how to get the speed out of them.

It was bow and bow between the two, almost to the second stake. Then
Jerry slightly advanced the spark lever and the _Dartaway_ shot ahead.
Only for an instant, however, as the _Snail_ was right after her.

“I’d like to lose her,” thought Jerry.

He gave one look behind him. The two boats which had started last were
close up, but Jerry had no fear of them. The engine of one, he could
tell by the sound, was missing explosions, and the other was wheezing
and coughing in a way that indicated loss of power. It was now a race
between the _Dartaway_ and the _Snail_.

They were on the last leg. Jerry could hear the shouts of the excited
spectators. It was a race worth seeing.

“Douse her with oil,” called Jerry. “On the bearings, only, don’t flood
the cylinders!”

Ned and Bob were busy over the machinery. Jerry was holding the wheel
firmly, watching, from the corner of his eyes, the progress of the
_Snail_. He thought he saw her falling back a little, and he used a
little of his reserve power.

Suddenly, with a wheeze that sent a chill to the hearts of the boys,
the _Dartaway’s_ engine ceased to work, and the _Snail_ shot ahead.




CHAPTER VII

“THERE SHE BLOWS”


“What’s the matter?” cried Jerry.

“Don’t know,” replied Bob. “Something’s broken.”

“It’s the batteries or magneto,” Ned exclaimed. “There’s no spark!”

“Quick! Throw on the new set of batteries I put in,” called Jerry.
“Lively now! Maybe she’ll explode without cranking!”

Bob shoved over the switch that Jerry had provided for just such an
emergency. There was a click, a little spurt of green fire as the two
pieces of copper came together, and, with a sound like a gun, the
engine resumed its revolutions. A charge in one of the cylinders had
exploded, and had turned the fly wheel over, just in time to render it
unnecessary to crank up.

“Hurrah! She’s off!” cried Ned.

With a quick motion Jerry threw the engine back on first speed, as he
wanted to give it a chance to work up before he called on it for a
harder effort.

But the accident was likely to prove dear to the _Dartaway_. One of
the boats in the rear had almost caught up to her, and the _Snail_ was
a good five lengths ahead.

“We’ve got to strain everything now,” said Jerry grimly. “It’s a small
chance but we’ll take it.”

Quickly he speeded up the engine, giving the cylinders all the gasolene
they would take, and he also began to advance the spark.

As soon as he could he threw in the third speed gear. The _Dartaway_
responded nobly, and fairly shot through the water. The _Snail’s_ lead
was cut down by one length.

One advantage the accident gave was the bringing into use of fresh
batteries. This gave a better and hotter spark, and rendered the
explosions more powerful. Jerry saw this, and his heart rejoiced.

Notch by notch he shoved the two levers around and the boat increased
her speed. Those in the _Snail_ looked back apprehensively.

“We’ll catch you yet,” Jerry murmured. “How’s she running, Ned?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“Don’t spare the oil, and keep low down. We’re right against the wind
now, and everything counts.”

Slowly but surely the _Dartaway_ was overhauling the _Snail_. Inch by
inch she crept up. Now the leading boat was but two lengths ahead. But
the last stake was close at hand. Five minutes more and the race would
be over. There was a big lead to cut down in a short time.

Jerry shut his teeth tightly. It was if he, himself, was running the
race, and was determined to win or die. He gave one look towards the
stake-boat and another at _Snail_, and then shoved the sparking lever
over as far as he dared, at the same time giving the cylinders the
utmost gasolene they could take without being choked and floated.

It was the last effort, the utter limit to which the _Dartaway_ could
be pushed.

The craft responded, as if knowing what was required of her. She seemed
to rise like a bird under the increased impulse, and to fairly skim
over the water. She darted ahead, and, with hearts that beat high with
hope, the boys saw her creep past the stern of the _Snail_, until the
bows of the two boats were once more even.

The stake was three hundred feet ahead. The _Dartaway_ must do an inch
or two better if she was to win. Those aboard the _Snail_ were doing
their utmost to get another revolution or two from their engine.

Jerry and his companions almost held their breaths. They peered over
the side to see what their rivals were doing. They saw them frantically
oiling the levers and cams.

“Only an inch! Only an inch!” Jerry whispered under his breath. “Only
an inch and we can beat ’em!”

Then, whether it was that the _Dartaway_ heard the cry and responded,
or whether the _Snail’s_ engine went back on the boat, no one could
tell, but the _Dartaway_ shot ahead, several inches. There was an
exultant cheer from the three boys. There was a corresponding groan
from those on the _Snail_. There was a great shout from the spectators.

An instant later the _Dartaway_ crossed the line a winner.

What a shrill tooting of whistles there was! What a chorus of shouts
and yells! What a sound of gasolene engines exploding on all sides to
add to the din.

_Bang!_ it was a cannon on the _Three Bells_, fired in honor of the
victor.

_Bang!_ spoke the _Dartaway’s_ ordnance in reply.

Then there were more cheers and yells. Jerry, in answer to a signal,
slowed down his craft and put it over to the _Three Bells_, where the
judges were. The _Snail_ followed.

“A good race and well managed,” said Captain Jenkinson. “I thought you
boys were out of it when your engine stopped. How did you manage it?”

Jerry told him of the extra batteries, and was congratulated for his
forethought.

“You certainly have a fine boat,” the captain of the _Snail_ said,
as he shook hands with Jerry and his chums. “You beat us fairly and
squarely.”

“Yes, and here’s your reward,” said Captain Jenkinson, as he handed
Jerry a beautiful silver cup. “May it be an incentive to you and your
comrades to win many more races.”

“Speech! Speech!” cried several. The judges’ boat was surrounded by a
score of craft, which hemmed in the _Dartaway_ and the _Snail_.

“I can’t make a speech,” Jerry stammered. “But I want to thank you all
for allowing us to take part in this race, and if any one wants to have
another try for the cup, why he can, that’s all.”

“Hurrah!” yelled the crowd.

“I may take you up on that offer,” said Captain Jones, owner of the
_Snail_. “I believe I can beat you yet.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Jerry answered.

The boys were hardly able to realize their good luck. They had snatched
the race from defeat, and the skillful way in which they had managed
their boat brought them much praise.

There were several other aquatic events that afternoon. It was a sort
of opening of the summer season at Harmon Beach, which was quite
a resort for those who loved the sea. The boys did not stay long,
however, as Jerry was anxious to show his mother the cup he and his
chums had won.

As the boys were fastening their boat to the dock, they heard a noise
in the shelter house. At first they thought it might be Mrs. Hopkins,
who had come down to meet them. But they heard a hoarse voice singing:

    “Oh it’s blow, blow, blow!
     And to Davy’s locker we’ll go.
         For a stormy night
         Is my delight;
     And I love the hail and snow!”

An instant later a short, stout man, with one eye, a grizzled beard,
rather ragged clothes, the trousers of which he kept hitching up, while
he rolled his lone optic around in a strange fashion, came out on the
dock from the boathouse.

“What ho! my hearties!” he cried. “Avast, messmates!”

“Who are you?” asked Jerry.

“Salt Water Sam. A relic of the deep seas.”

“Glad to see you,” remarked Bob. The lads took the old man for a
harmless character, and paid little attention to him. For a while Salt
Water Sam regarded the boys with his one eye, and then, singing his
verse once more, he walked off with a rolling gait.

“Old sailor,” said Ned. “I’d like to know him.”

“You’ll probably have a chance. He seems to make himself at home,”
remarked Jerry.

For several days after this the boys only made short trips about the
cove in their boat. They took Mrs. Hopkins out, and she enjoyed the
little cruises very much. Jerry wanted to take her out on the ocean but
she would not hear of it. She said she was afraid the boat would swamp.

“You’d ought to have been with us the other night,” said Jerry. “I
guess that would have scared you.”

“Don’t you ever take such risks again,” cautioned Mrs. Hopkins, and
the boys promised they would not. But boys are very forgetful.

The _Dartaway_ was now fully equipped “from anchors to apricots,” as
Bob said. He had superintended putting aboard a quantity of provisions
including the canned fruit which, he said, could be used in case of
emergency.

One afternoon, as the boys were cruising near shore, they saw a
fisherman’s boat come in. It was the kind of craft with a small engine,
called a “kicker,” in it, to be used in case of calm.

As it tied up alongside of a small public dock, the boys could see,
by the manner of the men, that something had happened. They were much
excited.

“What’s the matter?” they heard several ask.

“There’s a whale off shore,” replied the captain. “We found our nets
all ripped up, and, as we were wondering what did it, we saw a big
whale spout, close by.”

“What’s that? A whale?” cried a hoarse voice, and the boys saw Salt
Water Sam come rolling down to the dock. “A whale! Shiver my timbers,
there she blows!” he cried, seeming to get excited at the mention of
the name. “Let me get at him. Many a one I’ve harpooned!”




CHAPTER VIII

AFTER THE WHALE


There was considerable excitement on the dock. The news soon spread
that one of the monsters of the deep had been sighted off the beach,
and a number of boats were gotten ready to go out for a glimpse of the
whale.

“Here’s our chance,” said Ned. “Why can’t we go out and have a look at
him? I never saw a whale in the ocean.”

“Neither did I, nor anywhere else,” Jerry replied. “I guess we can go.”

“Hi there!” hailed a voice, and the boys saw the old sailor beckoning
to them. “Avast! I want to speak to you. Avast! Belay!”

“Shall we see what he wants?” asked Jerry.

The old man was dancing about on the dock, hitching his trousers up
so often that Bob remarked he would wear them out in a short time at
that rate. His one eye was rolling about trying to see in half a dozen
directions at once.

“Can’t do any harm to learn what he wants,” Ned replied. “Put her over,
Jerry.”

Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was steered toward the dock, on which there
were quite a number of persons. Several were getting boats ready to go
off and get a view of the big creature.

“Steady now, my hearties!” exclaimed the old sailor. “That’s the way to
do it! Couldn’t have done it any better myself!” as Jerry brought the
boat up alongside of the dock without hitting the string piece.

“Did you call us?” asked Bob.

“Sure, son, I want you to take me out so we can kill that whale. Shiver
my timbers, but it’s like old times again!”

“Did you ever kill whales?” asked Ned.

“Did I? Say you don’t know me!”

Then, rolling up his sleeves and disclosing two very hairy and much
tattooed arms he sang in a high, quavering voice:

    “I’ve traveled in the North sea.
     I’ve traveled in the South.
         I’ve killed a whale
         With the biggest tail
     And the smallest kind of a mouth!”

“That’s me! That’s Salt Water Sam!” he went on. “Now boys, if you wait
a minute I’ll go after my harpoon and line, and we’ll have a whale
chase as is a chase.”

Before the boys could reply, the old sailor ran from the dock toward a
little shanty that stood on the beach. When he was gone Jerry asked:

“Shall we risk it, fellows?”

“Maybe he’s only joking?” Bob said. “He doesn’t look as if he knew how
to harpoon a whale.”

“Let’s take him along, anyhow,” Ned put in. “He’ll know a lot about the
ocean, and we can ask him about the lighthouses and the rocks, even if
we don’t see him kill a whale.”

In a few minutes the old man came back again. On his head he carried a
tub, while over his shoulder was a long pole. He ran down to the dock
with a speed surprising in so old a person.

“There she is!” he cried, as he reached the boat. “There’s the iron
that sent many a good whale, and some bad ones, too, maybe, to the
boiling kettles. There she is!”

It was a harpoon that he had; an old implement, and one that had seen
service, to judge by the look of it. It was rusty, and the wooden
handle was full of notches.

“Them’s the number of whales she’s been into,” said Salt Water Sam,
proudly, pointing to the cuts. “I did every one myself. And this tub
and line--well they’ve seen service, just the same as their owner.
They’re old but you can depend on ’em.”

While he was speaking he had boarded the boat, and was arranging the
tub, with its coil of line in the bottom, at the bow. Then he sat down
near Ned, and, taking out a file, began sharpening the barb of the
harpoon.

“Let her go, skipper,” said Sam, to Jerry, and, at a nod from the
latter, Bob cranked the engine, and the _Dartaway_ was steered out
toward the open sea.

“Any danger of a storm?” asked Ned, of the old sailor. He did not want
to get caught as they had been before.

“Clear as a bell, and it’ll stay so ’till dog watch,” the sailor
replied, not looking up from the delicate operation of putting a finer
point on his weapon.

“I’m afraid we’ll see very little of the whale,” remarked Bob. “All the
other boats are ahead of us, and they’ll scare him off so we’ll miss
him.”

“Don’t let that worry you, sonny,” said Sam. “Trust an old whaleman to
find the creatures if they’re within seeing distance. Put her right
between the two points, lad, there’s less current there, and you’ll
skim along like one of Mother Carey’s chickens,” he added to Jerry.

Jerry speeded up the engine, and the _Dartaway_ fairly flew through the
water. Ahead was quite a flotilla of sail and motor boats, crowded with
persons anxious to get a view of the sea monster.

“It’s a sweet little craft you have here, lads,” Sam remarked, having
satisfied himself that the harpoon was sharp enough. “Almost as fast
as the _Dolly Gray_, in which I made my first voyage to the whaling
grounds. Ah, but she was a lovely schooner.”

Sam now began fastening the line to the weapon. He took great care in
this, and Ned and Bob watched him curiously. Then he saw to it that the
line was properly coiled in the tub.

“Can’t be too careful,” the sailor remarked. “If it snarls why it’s all
up with the whale and you, too.”

“Is there going to be any danger?” asked Bob, in some alarm.

“Not with Salt Water Sam aboard,” was the sailor’s reply. “You leave it
to me.”

By this time the _Dartaway_ was up with the last of the boats, and, a
little later had overhauled some of them. Ten minutes more and she had
passed the points of the harbor and the boys found themselves out on
the open Atlantic.

The water was calm, and there was scarcely a breeze to ruffle the
surface. There was a long gentle swell, but the lads soon became used
to this.

“Now, boys,” said Sam, “if you’ll do as I tell you we’ll be all right.
I’m going to stand in the bow, and, skipper, you send her forward or
back, as I tell you. If we strike the whale you want to send her astern
like lightning, or there’ll be a mess.”

“Aye aye, sir!” answered Jerry, somewhat inclined to laugh at the old
man’s earnestness.

“That’s the way to talk,” said Sam. “Put her out a little more,
skipper. I want to clear some of these craft.”

Jerry manœuvred so as to round a number of other power boats, which
seemed to be headed for one spot. They were evidently steering for
where the whale had last been seen.

“He was headed up the coast,” Sam murmured. “We’ll point up that way,
and maybe we can land him before the others scare him away.”

It was here that the old sailor’s knowledge of whales and their ways
stood him in good stead. He knew the creature would not merely float
around on the water, but would dive, and swim beneath the surface. He
had made inquiries and learned that the monster was headed up the coast.

The _Dartaway_ was now comparatively alone, there being no other boats
within a quarter of a mile. The rest were hovering near where the big
creature had been seen to go down.

“If he comes up under one of those boats it will be all day with ’em,”
observed Ned.

Salt Water Sam was standing in the bow, beside Jerry, who was at the
wheel. The old man peered ahead with his one keen eye. He was as still
as though the carved figurehead of a vessel; every muscle was tense,
every nerve on the alert. The joy of battle shone in his face.

Suddenly, just ahead of the _Dartaway_, there was a commotion in the
water. It seemed to boil and bubble. Then something big and black was
flung up from the hidden depths.

At the same instant two thin columns of water shot up from the surface
of the ocean. Up and up they went, sparkling in the sun.

“There she blows! There she blows!” yelled Sam. “Send her ahead, boys!”




CHAPTER IX

TOWED TO SEA


With hearts that beat hard and fast in the excitement of the moment,
the three boys stood up to catch a glimpse of the ocean monster. It was
the first whale they had ever seen, and they never had expected to view
one in its native element.

Jerry’s hand trembled so he could scarcely send the sparking lever
forward, to increase the speed of the craft. As it clicked over the
rachet the _Dartaway_ shot ahead. Sam, standing up in the bow, poised
his arm to hurl the harpoon. Then, as though alarmed by the approach
of the boat, and probably mistrusting the throbbing of the engine, the
whale “sounded.”

With a turn of its massive flukes, it sunk downward into the depths
whence it had emerged but a few minutes before to breathe.

“He’s gone!” exclaimed Bob.

“Quiet!” cautioned Sam. “That’s nothing.” He was speaking in a whisper.
“Got to expect that. We’ll land him yet. Put her a little further out,
skipper, and stand ready to go astern when I give the word.”

Slowing down the engine, Jerry steered the boat in obedience to motions
from Sam’s hand. The old man kept his eye fixed on the water, as though
he could see into the depths, and watch the whale coursing forward.

Whether he could or not his instinct seemed to tell him about where the
creature would rise. The _Dartaway_ had been sailing along not more
than ten minutes when again came that curious boiling and bubbling of
the water.

This time it was off to the left, about a quarter of a mile away. There
was no need to tell Jerry in which direction to steer. He increased the
speed of the engine, and was darting toward the spot, when once more
the whale spouted.

“There she blows!” cried Bob, unable to withhold his enthusiasm.

“Easy now,” cautioned Sam. “We don’t want to frighten him again. Put me
close, skipper.”

Jerry slowed down the motor, so as to make less noise and threw the
wheel over. Nearer and nearer the craft approached the big creature,
that was resting easily on the surface of the ocean.

But again they were doomed to disappointment. They were within a short
distance of the monster, but not close enough to enable Sam to throw
the harpoon, when the whale, with a mighty blow of its flukes, which
raised a wave that careened the _Dartaway_, sank into the depths.

“We’ll never get him!” cried Ned.

“Leave it to Salt Water Sam,” was the old man’s reply.

Once more he scanned the water with his keen eye. Again Jerry, obeying
the motions of his hand, sent the boat forward. The boys were now quite
a distance from shore, and there was no other craft near them. The
flotilla of boats was two miles away, still cruising around where the
whale had first been seen, and the occupants looking for the monster
were too far off to see what those in the _Dartaway_ were about.

“Get ready!” came the old sailor’s voice, and, once more the boys’
hearts beat violently. Sam motioned for Jerry to steer the boat to the
right. Hardly had the direction been changed than again there was that
curious bubbling, and the whale spouted for the third time.

“He must be hurt!” said Sam, in a low tone. “Or else he wouldn’t come
up so often to breathe. I think I can land him this time. Easy now!
Right for him, skipper!”

Jerry was calmer now. He held the wheel steadily, and his hands did not
tremble as he shoved the levers over. Old Sam gave a last look at the
coils of line in the tub to see that they were free.

Closer and closer to the monster the boat approached. The boys could
see the black sides glistening in the sun. It seemed that the whale was
a thousand feet long, though as Sam told them afterward, it was only
one of the smallest species. But to the boys it was large enough.

At a signal from the old man, Jerry shut off the engine, almost
completely, giving it just enough gasolene to keep it from being
stalled. His hand was on the reverse lever, ready to throw in the
clutch, and then to start the motor at full speed astern.

The _Dartaway_ was merely under enough power to give her steerage way.
Sam, by a nod of his head, indicated to Jerry to approach the whale
broadside on, as they were now coming up to the monster’s tail. One
blow from the mighty flukes, and there would be no boat left.

Nearer and nearer to the creature the _Dartaway_ was sent. Now it was
within one hundred feet. Now it was seventy-five. Still the whale
had not taken fright. The boys could hardly breathe from the fierce
beating of their hearts.

As for Sam, he was as cool as though he was about to pull in a small
fish which he had hooked. He stood rigid in the bow, the terrible
harpoon poised over his shoulder.

Suddenly his arm shot forward. There was a whistling sound, a hissing
through the air. Something flew from the boat, and struck the whale.

The next instant the boys saw, sticking up from the whale’s back, a
straight shaft. It was the handle of the harpoon. The iron had entered
deep into the flesh.

“Hard astern!” yelled Sam. “Astern for your lives!”

Jerry never moved more quickly than he did to throw the reverse gear
in, and send the gasolene and sparking levers over. With a splutter and
roar the motor got into action, and the _Dartaway_ began to back.

And only just in time, for the whale fairly leaped out of the water
from the pain of the iron. Then it brought its great flukes down on the
surface, sending up a shower of spray that soaked the occupants of the
boat.

The line began to run from the tub and over an improvised roller Sam
had fastened in the bow. So rapidly did it spin out that the bearings
began to smoke, and the old sailor dipped up water in a tin can and
began pouring it over the wood, to prevent it from catching fire.

“Struck good and deep!” he cried. “Old Sam is some good yet.”

The engine was still running on the reverse, but, in a few minutes the
boys noticed that they were going forward.

“What’s the matter?” asked Ned.

At that the last of the line was out of the tub, but before then it had
been quickly caught around a cleat, by Sam.

“We’re being towed out to sea,” the old sailor said. “Don’t be afraid.
It’s what I expected.”




CHAPTER X

THE WHALE ESCAPES


“Towed out to sea?” inquired Ned.

The words had a sort of terror in them. The boys looked at one another.

“Land love you, yes,” went on the old whaler, who seemed as happy as a
lad at a picnic. “It isn’t the first time I’ve been towed by a whale.
That’s the way they do, sometimes. But they soon tire of it, and then
we’ll have another chance at him.”

“But isn’t it dangerous?” asked Jerry, who did not exactly like the
idea.

“Not a bit,” replied Sam. “That is, if you cut the line in time, in
case the whale sounds.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ned.

“Why, sometimes they’ll take a notion to go down before you know it.
Then, if you don’t cut the line in time, they’re liable to swamp the
boat.”

“Maybe we’d better cut it now,” suggested Bob.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Sam. “Why it’s only just begun. There’s no danger
yet. I remember once we was towed nearly a day with a whale in the
North Sea. I was mate of the _Dogstar_ then, as fine a craft as I ever
saw. But she was wrecked on an iceberg and I was the only one saved.
That was a voyage!” and the old man’s eye sparkled in remembrance.

“How far will he take us?” asked Jerry, not a little anxious on his
mother’s account.

“No telling,” replied Sam. “Twenty or thirty miles, maybe. But you have
one advantage we didn’t have in the old whale boats. You can keep the
engine going at reverse, and make a drag that will soon tire him out.
That’s a good thing.”

In spite of the fact that the motor was revolving the screw backward,
the whale seemed to have no difficulty in pulling the _Dartaway_ after
him. He fairly made the craft fly through the water.

Right out to sea, the motor boat was headed. The beach had long since
been left astern, and the other boats could only be dimly seen.

There was nothing to do but to sit and wait for the whale to tire
itself out. Sam seemed to accept this as a matter of course. He
had brought a lance along, in addition to his harpoon, and was now
sharpening this keen weapon, in anticipation of making a death thrust.

As for the boys, they viewed with alarm the ever increasing distance
from shore. The beach was now but an indistinct hazy line.

“Maybe we’d better give it up,” suggested Bob.

“Why, are you getting hungry, Chunky?” asked Jerry.

Ned’s laugh at this sally seemed to relieve their feelings somewhat,
and, when Sam told them he would only hold on a little while longer, in
case they were still alarmed, they felt better.

“We can’t come to any harm,” the old sailor said. “No matter how far we
go we can get back, and we’ll not have to row, either, the way we did
in the old days.”

“But it’s a good distance to go to sea in a small boat,” objected Bob.

“This is big enough to cross the Atlantic in,” said the sailor. “All
you want is plenty to eat.”

“Oh, we’ve got that,” Bob replied, brightening up, somewhat at the
remembrance of the well filled lockers.

“Then don’t worry,” advised Salt Water Sam. “It’s a fine day and no
sign of a storm.”

Then the boys decided to accept the situation. They knew they could
make good time back, in their craft, and Jerry did not believe his
mother would worry. Besides she had no idea that they had gone
whaling. If she had, she might have been alarmed.

Then, too, there was something fascinating in the idea of being
attached to a monster of the deep. The boys realized it was an
experience they might never have again, though, for that matter, it is
doubtful if they ever wanted it.

So, for an hour longer they sat in the boat and watched the waves
rushing past them. As the reversing of the engine seemed to have no
slackening effect on the whale’s progress, Jerry decided to shut the
motor off, and so save gasolene.

Now and then Sam would stand up in the bow and take an observation. The
boys could see nothing but the long, thin line extending from the craft
and disappearing beneath the water.

“He’s still there,” said the old sailor, as if there could be any doubt
of it with the way the boat was speeding through the water. “I can see
him, almost on the surface. He’s going a lively clip.”

Bob got up from where he had been seated and began rummaging about in
the locker.

“What’s the matter?” asked Ned.

“I’m hungry,” announced Chunky. “Got to have something to eat.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sam put in. “I didn’t have much dinner
myself, and salt air always makes me have an appetite.”

Thus finding an ally, Bob proceeded to get out the victuals. He lighted
the gasolene stove and made coffee, which with some sandwiches and
canned stuff, provided a meal that made up in zest what it lacked in
quality.

“I’ll bet it’s the first time this whale ever towed a dinner party,”
said Jerry between bites.

“I hope it’ll be the last,” murmured Sam. “I want to get my lance into
him. There’s a pot of money in it, even if he isn’t a spermer. We can
land him on the beach and charge ten cents admission to see him, though
it’s not in my line.”

It was about ten minutes later when Jerry, glancing at the line,
noticed it was slack. He called Sam’s attention to it.

“He’s up to some trick,” the old sailor remarked, as he peered
anxiously forward. “Going to sound, or maybe he’s headed this way.”

The boys looked at each other. Here was a new complication. It was one
thing to chase a whale. It was altogether another to have the process
reversed and the monster turn pursuer.

“What shall we do?” asked Ned.

“We’ll have to wait and see what he’s up to,” Sam replied.

“Suppose he comes for us?”

“Then we’ll have to run. That’s the only safe rule,” and Sam smiled
grimly.

The _Dartaway_ was now rocking easily on the waves. The sea remained
calm, and, as the sailor remarked, was like a “mill pond on a summer
day.” The line from the bow lay slack on the water.

“He’s sulking,” muttered Sam, as he stood up, trying to catch a glimpse
of the monster.

An instant later it seemed as if a big wave was coming toward the boat.
There was a roll of green water, advancing nearer and nearer.

“He’s headed for us!” cried Sam. “Quick! Start the engine and get away!”

Bob dropped his sandwich and sprang to the fly wheel. He cranked it,
praying silently that the explosion might come quickly.

Jerry had thrown the forward gear in, and turned on the gasolene and
spark. There sounded a welcome “chug,” and an instant later the engine
was working at rapid speed.

Jerry put the wheel over, and headed the boat away from the on-coming
whale. The line, fast to the bow, swung over the stern, lengthwise of
the craft, nearly carrying Ned overboard in the rapid change it made.

The _Dartaway_ was off like an arrow from the bow, piling up a line of
foam at the cut-water. The big wave at the back was nearer now. It was
caused by the water gathering in front of the whale’s blunt, massive
head.

“Can we get away?” cried Bob.

“We’ve got to try!” shouted Sam. “Put a little more speed on, skipper!”

The boat forged ahead faster than before. Sam stood up, peering aft
to see if the whale gained. There was no doubt that the monster
was nearer, in spite of the fast whirling propellor. For once the
_Dartaway_ had met her match in a speed contest.

“Can’t you get any more out of her?” called the sailor in an anxious
voice.

“No,” said Jerry, his heart sinking.

“He’ll ram us and sink us!” cried Bob.

“Veer off a bit!” yelled Sam. “Maybe he’ll rush past us, and we can
slip away.”

Jerry shifted the wheel, to allow the whale to pass on the left, if
it would, in its maddened rush. The sailor armed himself with a small
hatchet and his lance.

As the boat swung around the line passed from the stern to the bow.
It had been slack, but now it grew taut again, and the old sailor,
watching it, sought for an explanation.

It was easily found. The whale had ceased its rush at the boat, and,
passing to one side, was moving forward again. Then, as though trying
a last resort to rid itself of the harpoon, it suddenly sank. Down and
down into the ocean depths it went.

The bow of the _Dartaway_ began to be depressed. Lower and lower it
went into the water, until the screw was revolving in the air.

“He’ll pull us down with him!” yelled Jerry.

“No, he won’t!” cried Sam.

There was a sharp sound, a snap as though a whip had cracked and the
end of the line flew up in the air. Sam had cut it with his hatchet,
and the whale had escaped its enemies. The bow of the boat righted, and
the craft floated on an even keel, moving forward at a fast pace.




CHAPTER XI

ADRIFT ON THE OCEAN


“That’s the end of Mr. Whale,” remarked Sam, in somewhat sorrowful
tones, as he looked at the trailing end of the severed rope. “There
goes the best line I ever had, and a harpoon I wouldn’t have lost for a
lot of money.”

“Maybe the whale will die from the wound,” said Jerry. “Anyway, he came
near making an end of us.”

“So he did,” replied Sam, brightening up. “It was the only thing to do.
Maybe I got the iron in deep enough, but I didn’t see any blood and
that’s the way to tell.”

“Shall we put back now?” asked Jerry.

“I s’pose we might as well. Can’t do anything more here. Where’s your
compass? and I’ll lay a course for you. It’s getting so hazy, and we’ve
twisted and turned so I can’t tell where the beach is.”

“Get out the compass, Bob,” called Jerry.

“Compass? I haven’t got the thing,” Bob replied.

“Course you have. I gave it to you the other day, when we were fixing
up the boat, and you told me you put it in the locker.”

“I don’t remember,” Bob replied.

“I saw you have it,” Ned said. “It was the new one, in a round metal
case.”

“Oh, that!” exclaimed Chunky. “Was that the compass! I thought it was a
can of peas or something like that.”

“Well, never mind what you thought it was, hand it over,” Jerry said.

“Why, I didn’t put it in the locker,” Bob answered.

“You didn’t put it in!” exclaimed Ned. “What in the world did you do
with it?”

“Why, I thought we had enough canned peas on board, and I left it in
the boathouse until our supply would run low. It’s there now, on a
shelf. I thought it was something to eat.”

“Well, you are the limit, Chunky!” exclaimed Jerry. “I always knew your
eating habits would make trouble and now they have, sure enough.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Bob said trying to think of some defense. “Why
didn’t you tell me it wasn’t anything to eat?”

“Hereafter I’ll label everything I hand you,” spoke Jerry
sarcastically. “You’re not safe aboard a boat!”

“No compass, eh?” questioned the old sailor. “Well, maybe one of you
have one for a watch charm, that would answer?”

But none of the boys had. The old sailor cast his eye toward the
clouds, that were beginning to gather, and looked across the waste of
waters. The haze was thickening.

“Are we in any danger?” asked Bob, his voice showing how anxious he
felt.

“Well, not right away,” replied Sam. “Still it’s going to be a risk
to go in any direction. We may hit the shore and we may not. We may
go farther out to sea than would be safe, and we might run up on the
rocks. It’s a ticklish position to be in. I remember one like it when
I was second mate on the _Rolling Porpoise_. We were cruising around
three days, without a drop to drink or anything to eat, before we found
the ship that was hidden by the fog.”

“We’ve got plenty to eat and lots of water to drink,” said Bob. “That’s
one comfort.”

“And a mighty good one it is, when you’re lost at sea,” put in Sam.

“You wouldn’t call us lost, would you?” asked Ned.

“I don’t know what else it is,” the sailor replied. “We don’t know
which way to go, and that’s as near lost as I want to be.”

“It’s your fault, Bob,” said Jerry.

“Needn’t rub it in, though,” came from Chunky, in aggrieved tones.

“We’ll do the best we can,” spoke Sam. “You trust to me and I’ll bring
you out of this if possible.”

But, though Sam made light of the plight they were in, it was not one
to be easily passed over. The party was in a good boat, a craft that
had been tried on the open sea, and which had proven its stability. The
_Dartaway_ was indeed a craft of which to be proud. But the boys were
farther out on the deep than they had been during the squall. Though it
was now calm, there was no telling how long it would remain so, and the
increasing haze seemed to promise a spell of bad weather.

“Let’s make everything snug,” suggested Sam. “That’s the first thing to
do. How about lights? We’ll have to show ’em after dark, to avoid being
run down.”

“We have them,” said Jerry. “Why, are we in any danger of collision?”

“Well, we’re not exactly in the path of steamers that go up and down
the coast,” the sailor replied, “but there’s no telling when one will
come along. Best to prepare for ’em.”

Under his direction the boys made fast all loose gear. Jerry looked to
the engine, found there was plenty of gasolene in the tank, and saw
that the awning posts were well secured. The covering was up, but the
side curtains had not yet been let down. Then the red and green lights
were set aglow, as, though it would not be dark for some time, Sam said
they ought to do as much as possible by daylight. There was no carbide
for the search light, but they did not think they would need it.

It was almost dark when all their preparations had been completed,
and Sam took a long look around to see if he could, through the haze,
make out anything that would serve for a mark to steer by. But it was
impossible.

“Maybe I can get a glimpse of the stars,” he said. “Once I get my eye
on the dipper I’m all right.”

“I thought it was the north star that sailors steered by,” spoke Ned.

“So it is, son, but there are two stars in the bowl of the dipper,
called the pointers, that are right in line with the north star. Get
your eye on them pointers, and you can tell where the north star is
easier than if you don’t see the big ladle,” and Sam began tightening
anew some ropes which did not just suit him.

But even the stars were blotted out by the curtain of mist and Sam’s
hopes were blighted. However, he made the best of it.

“I’ll risk it by the wind,” he said.

“How’s that?” asked Jerry.

“It’s generally blowing off shore at this time of night. If we keep the
breeze in our faces we may strike the beach.”

Accordingly the _Dartaway_ was headed into the teeth of the wind, and
the engine regulated to moderate speed. Through the darkness the craft
sped over the waters. It was now night, and though the boys tried not
to show their nervousness, they did not succeed very well.

It was one thing to be out in their boat all night on a lake or river.
They knew in a case like that they were in no immediate danger. But
out on the ocean after dark, in a small craft, and not knowing their
position, was a more serious proposition. Besides, there seemed to be
something “scary” in the mere thought of the vastness of the sea, the
great depths, the monsters that inhabited it, and the great waves that
the wind could raise in a short time.

“Let’s put down the curtains,” suggested the sailor. “We want all the
shelter we can get, for it will be chilly by morning.”

“Do you think we’ll be out here all night?” asked Ned.

“Likely to. We came a good ways behind Mr. Whale, and we haven’t gone
back very far.”

With the curtains down, and a couple of lanterns lighted inside, the
_Dartaway’s_ interior was a cosy enough place. Bob insisted on getting
another meal, in spite of the fact that one had been served not so long
ago.

“That wasn’t a regular supper,” he declared. “This is,” and he started
the gasolene stove.

“We must set a watch,” said Sam. “Have to take turns steering. There
are four of us, and we’d better make it in two shifts. Jerry and I will
take the first one.”

Ned and Bob declared they didn’t feel like taking the time to sleep
before their watch was called, as the novelty of the night at sea was
too much for them. So they reclined on the bunks, talking, while Sam
went to the wheel, and Jerry looked after the engine.

A little wind had sprung up and the sea was heaving more than at any
time since the strange cruise began. Still the _Dartaway_ was not in
trouble. She slid over the waves like a duck, and made good time,
though it was guess work steering her.

They had been cruising in the teeth of the wind for about an hour, and
Ned and Bob were beginning to get a little sleep, in spite of their
desire to remain awake, when there came a curious sound from the engine.

It was a combined cough, wheeze and squeak, and Jerry who had been
leaning back, jumped up to look at the motor. As he did so it came to a
stop.

“What’s the trouble?” called Sam, from the wheel.

“Motor’s stuck, that’s all. I’ll fix it,” Jerry replied.




CHAPTER XII

ALMOST RUN DOWN


With vigorous motions Jerry sent the flywheel spinning around. It went
fast enough, but there was no answering chug-chug. He adjusted the
spark and gasolene levers a few notches forward and tried again, but
without results.

“Maybe the gasolene is out,” suggested Bob.

“There was plenty a while ago,” answered Jerry.

Still, he was aware that sometimes a tank will spring a leak most
unexpectedly. He tried the reservoir, and found there was enough of the
liquid to last a long time. He was sure then the trouble must be in the
motor.

In quick succession Jerry tried all the means known to him of locating
the difficulty. He knew it must be something slight, as there was good
compression. Then he tried the batteries and they gave a “fat” green
spark. Clearly there was electricity enough.

“I say,” called back Sam, “got to do something pretty soon. We’re
losing steerage way, and we’ll be in the trough in a few minutes.”

With Ned and Bob to help and offer suggestions, Jerry went all over the
engine to locate the trouble. It might be in one of a dozen places, for
a gasolene motor is a delicate machine and can get more kinds of things
the matter with it than can a baby.

“How about the carburettor?” asked Bob, referring to the apparatus
where the gasolene is mixed with air so it will explode in the
cylinders.

“I don’t want to monkey with that,” Jerry replied. “It never has given
any trouble, and I’m afraid to take it apart now.”

Just then the _Dartaway_ gave a violent lurch to one side, and the
boys, who were stooping down, were nearly thrown off their balance.

“Did we hit something?” called Jerry.

“No, a wave hit us,” Sam replied. “Can’t you get the engine fixed?”

“Doesn’t seem so.”

“Then I’ve got to do something. She won’t answer the rudder any more,
and is getting down in the hollows.”

“What can you do?”

“I’ll show you. I haven’t been to sea forty years for nothing, sonny.
I’ll do the same thing I did when I was shipwrecked in the Indian
Ocean once, and had to live three days on a raft.”

Sam did not waste any more time in words. He came from the bow, since
it was no longer any use to try to steer the _Dartaway_, and made his
way astern. With him he brought the tub in which the whale line had
been coiled.

“The boat isn’t leaking,” said Bob, thinking the sailor was about to
begin bailing operations.

“I know it, you just watch me.”

Sam fastened a piece of rope to each of the two handles of the tub.
These strands he tied together, and at the place of joining he attached
another rope.

Seeing that all of the knots were secure he climbed out on the
overhanging stern of the boat, and made the end of the long rope fast
to a cleat. Then he dropped the tub overboard, and it fell with a
splash into the water.

“He’s lost it!” cried Bob.

“Not a bit of it,” Sam said. “That’s what I wanted to do. That’s what
we call a drag, sonny. It will keep the boat head on to the waves, and
that’s the most important thing now.”

In the meanwhile the craft had been pitching and rolling about in
rather an alarming fashion. The boys had all they could do to stand
upright, but Sam crawled and walked about like the old salt that he
was.

No sooner had the tub been dropped astern than an improvement was
apparent. The rolling and pitching ceased, and, though it was still
rough riding compared to being on a lake or river, the _Dartaway_ stood
up well, and was on a more even keel.

“That drag has something of the same effect as if we were moving by
means of the engine,” explained Sam. “It keeps the stern in the right
place. The wind on the awning gives us a little headway and I think
we’ll do very well for a while. Lucky the whale didn’t take the tub
with him.”

Now that they were temporarily in a little better shape, Jerry renewed
his efforts to get the engine to work. It was anything but an easy task
at best. Even in daylight and on still water he had often found his
ingenuity taxed to the utmost to discover some slight defect and remedy
it. Now, in a boat that had an uneven motion, and amid a darkness
that the lights seemed to but increase, it was about as ticklish a
proposition as the youth had ever undertaken.

“I’ll go for’ard,” spoke the sailor. “I can’t do anything here, and
I’ll be on the lookout.”

The boys tried everything they could bring to mind. They had been in
similar trouble before, though not under such serious circumstances.

“I think after all I’ll have to take the carburettor out,” Jerry
remarked with something like a sigh, for it was a hard and difficult
task.

“I say!” called Sam. “Do you suppose any of the pipes is stopped up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we had some trouble once, when I was aboard the _Double Dog
Fish_, and it was on account of stopped-up pipes.”

“Was that a motor boat?” asked Bob.

“Say, that was before we ever thought of motor boats. It was away back
in 1849. It was this way. There was a barrel of molasses aboard, and
we used to be allowed to help ourselves. It come in mighty good for
sweetening your tea. Well, one day we opened the spigot and none come
out. First we thought the cook had shut down on us. Then we thought
maybe the molasses had given out. But it wasn’t either one.”

“What was it?” asked Jerry, glad of something to take his mind off the
trouble of the engine.

“Why the spigot was stopped up. One of the sailors had dropped his
ball of rope yarn, with which he was mending sails, into the barrel one
day, and there it was inside plumb up against the spigot.”

“How’d you get it out?” asked Ned.

“I run my hand down in the barrel, rolling up my sleeve of course, and
got the ball out. Then the molasses run just the same as before. There
was some kicking though, account of me licking the molasses off my arm.
The men claimed I got more than my share.”

In spite of their anxiety the boys could not help laughing at the
sailor’s story.

“I thought maybe some pipe or other got stopped up, and the molasses or
whatever it is you run that engine with, might not be flowing.”

“I never thought of that,” Jerry said. “Wait until I take a look.”

“How can you look in the gasolene tank?” came from Bob.

“Well then, feel, if it suits you better.”

Jerry moved forward and was about to remove the cover from the tank,
when a cry from Sam stopped him.

“Here comes a big steamer!” the sailor yelled. “It’s bearing right down
on us, and we can’t move out of her course!”

“Blow the whistle!” cried Ned.

Instinctively Jerry pulled the cord. He forgot the engine was not
working, and that there was no compressed air to send out a blast. In
the midst of his terror, he resolved to have a storage tank installed
for air for the whistle if ever they came safely out of their trouble.

“Ship ahoy!” yelled Sam, with lungs that had done their duty in all
sorts of weather. “On board the steamer!”

The sailor and Jerry peering between the curtains at the bow, and Ned
and Bob, looking forth from the side awnings, saw a big vessel bearing
right down on them. They could distinguish the towering bow and the
twinkling lights.

“Ship ahoy! You’ll run us down!” hailed Sam.

The boys joined their voices to his, and a chorus of shouts went up.
But the wind had freshened and was blowing quite strongly. Even had the
night been still it is doubtful if the pilot could have heard, shut
up in the bridge house.

As for the lookout aloft, he was too far up, and the wind, doubtless,
made such a noise through the rigging that it would have taken a
megaphone to have aroused him.

“Veer off! Veer off!” shouted the sailor.

“Can’t they see our lights!” cried Jerry. “Oh, if only the search light
was going!”

“We’re too low down, lad. I’m afraid we’re done for. If we could only
forge ahead a bit! If the engine was only running!”

It seemed there was no escape. Nearer and nearer came the big ship.
It seemed like a monster about to crush the little boat in its path.
Once it struck it there would be nothing left of the _Dartaway_, and
the shock to the steamer would be so slight those on board would never
notice it.

“If I only had a horn, or something to make a louder noise with!” said
Sam, with something like a groan.

“A noise!” almost yelled Bob. “Quick, Jerry! The cannon!”

Jerry made a jump for the brass ordnance. He seized the string. There
was a charge in the cannon, put there the day after the races. The boy
yanked the lanyard.

Bang!

An explosion roared through the night and echoed over the dark waters.




CHAPTER XIII

NODDY NIXON TURNS UP


Would those on the steamer hear it? Would they change the course in
time? Could they, at the rate the ship was going?

These were questions which surged through the minds of those on the
_Dartaway_. How anxiously they waited to see how they would be answered!

“If she hits us jump for your lives!” cried Sam, climbing through the
awning curtains out on the gunwale. “It’s the only chance we’ve got!”

But there was some excitement on the steamer. Lights flashed out on
the bow. Then a big glaring beam from a search lantern cut through the
gloom. There were confused shouts, a jingle of bells. Evidently the
cannon had been heard.

“She’s veering off! She’s veering off!” yelled the sailor. “Look out
for the wash as she passes us!”

Indeed, the great steamer could be seen to be changing her course. The
immense bow seemed to glide away from the motor boat. As the boys held
their breaths the vessel loomed up almost in front of them, but safely
away. They had just escaped being run down.

With inquiring toots from her big whistles the steamer surged past the
_Dartaway_. As she glided by the boys could see, leaning over the rail,
a group of men. Doubtless they wondered what venturesome mariners these
were, out so far at sea in a little craft.

“Hold hard!” cried Sam.

He spoke only just in time, for the _Dartaway_ began to rock violently
from the wash of the steamer’s propellors. The boys clung to the awning
stanchions or they might have been flung overboard.

Then, as the steamer, in her changed course, showed her stern lights to
those on the motor boat, there came a feeling of thanksgiving at their
providential escape from almost certain death.

“Lucky you had that cannon!” commented Sam. “It was better than a horn
or whistle.”

For a few minutes the boys could not reply, they were so unnerved. But
the old sailor seemed to take it as a matter of course.

“It isn’t the first time I’ve been nearly cut in two by a steamer,” he
said. “That often happens on the fishing banks.”

Jerry made his way back to the cockpit and sat down on a bunk. He was
trembling from the excitement.

“Brace up!” spoke Sam, noticing the boy’s condition. “Have another try
at the engine. See if the pipe is stopped up.”

That put Jerry’s mind on another subject, and relieved him of the
strain he was under. He waited until the commotion of the water had
somewhat subsided, and then went forward again to the gasolene tank.

Baring his arm to the shoulder, and lying flat out on the bow, in order
to get to the bottom of the receptacle, he felt around in it. For a few
moments there was an anxious wait. Then he cried:

“I’ve got it!”

He pulled out a bunch of cotton waste, used to clean the engine with.
How it got in the tank was a mystery, but it had effectually stopped
the flow of gasolene.

“Now for another try!” exclaimed Bob. “I’ll bet the _Dartaway_ will
prove equal to her name.”

Anxiously the boys went back to the engine. The fly wheel was spun
around. This time there was an answering chug-chug, and, a moment later
the motor was humming away in a fashion that thrilled the hearts of
all.

“We’re off!” shouted Bob.

“Wait until I get my tub!” exclaimed Sam. “It’s all I’ve got left of my
outfit.”

He scrambled aft, and hauled aboard the improvised drag. Then Jerry
threw in the clutch and the _Dartaway_ shot ahead.

“Which way shall I steer?” asked Jerry, who had gone to the wheel.

“Well, we’re as bad off as ever in that regard,” the sailor replied.
“Wait a minute though. That steamer was cutting right across our bows.
We ought to keep straight on I guess, to fetch up on the coast, as the
vessel was going down along it. I think I know where we are.”

For a few minutes the boat went along, riding more evenly, now that it
had better headway. Suddenly there flashed on it a glaring light. It
was steady for a second, and then turned red. It flashed the ruby glow
twice, and then disappeared.

“What was that?” cried Bob.

“The lighthouse!” exclaimed Ned.

“Sure enough,” came from Sam. “It’s all right. I know where I am now.
Better let me take the wheel.”

With the sureness of one who knows his way, even in the darkest night,
the old sailor turned the craft into the proper channel. Forward it
went, like a frightened hare scudding back to the shelter of the
burrow.

“Rocky Point Light;--the South Light,” murmured Salt Water Sam. “I’m
right at home now. We must have been behind the upper headland or we’d
seen it before. It’s all right. We’re on our way back.”

So it proved. Through the darkness, illuminated only by the red and
green side lamps, the _Dartaway_ sped, steered by a sure hand. On and
on she went toward the harbor.

The boys did not learn until afterward that they had been towed nearly
twenty miles by the whale. Had the weather not remained calm they would
have been in dire peril, but fortune favored them, even in the matter
of escaping from the steamer. Had they been taken straight out to sea
they would have had more trouble, but the big monster, in his blind
rage, had taken a diagonal course up the coast.

“My, but I am sleepy,” remarked Jerry, stretching himself.

“So am I,” added Ned.

“You boys better take a nap,” Sam said. “I’ll call you about eight
bells and take forty winks myself. We’ll get in about daylight.” And
then he began to sing:

    “Oh it’s Ho! for a sailor’s life for me;
     When stormy winds do blow!
         And waves run high;
         Up to the sky;
     With mermaids down below!”

“You’re quite a poet,” said Jerry.

“I didn’t make that up,” replied the sailor. “It was a feller with two
eyes. I was mate and he was second mate on the _Tumbling Turtle_.”

The boys felt tired enough to take Sam’s advice. They covered up
with blankets on the bunks in the little cabin, and, in spite of the
excitement of the day and night, dozed off.

It was daylight when Sam awoke them, and they were just entering the
harbor of Harmon Beach.

“I thought you were going to call us at eight bells,” said Bob.

“Four o’clock in the morning’s no time for boys to be getting up,” said
Sam. “I hated to disturb you. I’m used to staying up.”

“I must hurry up and let mother know we’re all right,” said Jerry as
the boat swung up to the dock. “She’ll be worried.”

The boys found a crowd awaiting their return, though it was but seven
o’clock. The rumor of their disappearance in the hunt for the whale had
spread all through the summer colony.

“Salt Water Sam was along,” the sailor remarked proudly to some of the
questioners. “We knew what we were about.” He did not mention how near
they had come to being run down.

“Did you get the whale?” asked a man of the sailor, as the boys hurried
ashore and ran to the Hopkins cottage.

“We did and we didn’t,” replied the old salt.

“Well, you killed him, anyway.”

“What’s that?”

“He came ashore, dead, down the beach, a little while ago.”

“Are you joking?”

“Not a bit of it. Word to that effect just came.”

“Whoop!” yelled Sam. “I’ll get my old harpoon back. I must tell the
boys. So I haven’t forgot how to throw the iron! Whoop! Shiver my
timbers! I’ve killed my last whale! Hold me down, somebody!”

Salt Water Sam was dancing about in great excitement.

“Where’s the whale?” he inquired.

“About three miles south, on the beach.”

“I’m going right down and see it. I must get the boys. This’ll be great
news for them.”

Sam made the boat fast to the dock and hurried to the cottage where
the chums had gone. They had just succeeded in telling Mrs. Hopkins
all about their trip. She had been somewhat worried, but she felt that
Jerry and his companions could take care of themselves. They had been
away too many nights before, and had gone through too many adventures,
for her to do much worrying, unless she had good cause.

“Good news, boys!” cried Sam, coming in unannounced.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got our whale! Come on!” He rapidly explained.

Mrs. Hopkins wanted them to at least stay for breakfast, but they would
not hear of it.

“I’m going to lay claim to the creature,” the sailor exclaimed. “It has
my harpoon in it. That proves property. Can’t lose any time.”

The boys hurried back to the dock and got into the boat, and started
down the coast. As they neared a little cove, on which was located
another summer colony, they could see a big crowd collected.

“That’s where it is,” Sam remarked. “Put in there.”

When they landed they saw a big shapeless body stranded on the beach.
It resembled an immense log of black wood.

“There’s my whale!” cried Sam, proudly.

The creature looked vastly different from the monster that had towed
the boys in their boat out to sea. They went closer to the crowd, which
surrounded the bulk of flesh and bone. As they made their way through
the fringe of people they heard some one saying:

“Now you’ve all got to get away. This is my whale. I discovered it. I’m
going to put a tent over it and charge twenty-five cents admission.
Stand back, I say!”

Something about the tones struck the boys as being familiar. They went
closer.

“Here, no more can come here!” exclaimed a youth, who began shoving the
motor boys back. “This is my whale.”

There, confronting our three heroes, was Noddy Nixon.




CHAPTER XIV

A BATH HOUSE MYSTERY


For a few seconds it would have been hard to tell who was the more
surprised, Noddy or the three boys. They stood confronting each other,
while the crowd surged this way and that. Then Noddy spoke again:

“I want to know what you fellows mean, coming here trying to take my
whale?” he asked.

“Your whale, Noddy Nixon?” inquired Jerry.

“Yes, my whale. Didn’t I discover it ashore early this morning? I put a
paper with my name on it. I claim it under the law.”

Salt Water Sam thrust himself forward. His one eye gleamed with an
angry light.

“Who’s this young whipper-snapper that claims my whale?” he asked. “Let
me get at him!”

“Don’t you touch me!” cried Noddy, as the sailor confronted him. “I’ll
have you arrested if you put your hands on me; that’s what I will!”

“I’ll not touch you unless there’s an occasion for it. How did you get
this whale?”

“I was walking along the beach, and I saw it come in. I ran out and put
my card on it. I got my feet wet, too, and I’m going to get paid for
all my trouble. Now all you people get away. I’m going to have a tent
put up, and charge admission.”

The crowd gathered closer about the boys, the sailor, Noddy and the
whale. The big creature lay in a little hollow scooped in the sand by
the action of the waves. It had been stranded at high tide.

“If I thought you knew better I’d spank you, sonny,” spoke Sam, in
quiet but determined tones. “I guess you’d better run along home to
your mother now.”

This made Noddy furious. He drew back his hand as though to strike the
sailor. The latter, however, only laughed. He thrust the angry youth to
one side, and, striding to the whale, placed his hand on the harpoon
handle and exclaimed:

“Friends, this is the whale I and the three boys here killed yesterday.
We made fast to him, and he towed us quite a ways out, before we had
to cut loose. My harpoon killed the whale and it’s mine. There’s my
initials on the handle, and there’s the notches to show how many other
creatures my iron has gone into.”

“What’s all the trouble?” asked a tall, bronzed man, pushing his way
into the crowd.

“Hello, Captain Trembly!” cried Sam, recognizing the master of a
near-by life saving station. “Here’s a whale of mine that’s come
ashore, and this young man lays claim to it because he saw it first.”

“Nonsense!” spoke the captain. “It’s your property, of course, Sam.
Only I wouldn’t advise you to let it stay here very long. This isn’t
good keeping weather for dead whales.”

“Couple of days will do me,” the sailor said with a laugh. “There, now,
sonny,” turning to Noddy. “Maybe you’ll believe the captain.”

Seeing that the game had gone against him, Noddy made his way out of
the crowd without speaking. But the looks he cast at the sailor and the
three chums were anything but kind.

“Wonder how he got here?” asked Jerry.

“Seems as if he followed us,” spoke Ned.

They learned afterward that Noddy’s father had, at his son’s urging,
taken a cottage at Glen Cove, the next summer resort on the coast below
Harmon Beach.

“Now, friends,” went on Sam to the crowd, “you’re welcome to look at
this whale as long as you like, until I get a tent over it. Then it’ll
be ten cents to see it. Part of the money I’m going to give to the
hospital here.”

Sam’s spirit, so different from Noddy’s mean and selfish one, met with
quick response on the part of the assemblage.

“We’ll all come and see it when you’ve got it under a tent,” one man
called out, and there was a chorus of assents.

Sam got some sailor friends to help him, and with a couple of horses,
hauled the whale higher up on the beach. Then he put a tent over the
big creature and did a thriving business, exhibiting the monster.
The three chums assisted him, and acted as lecturers to the curious,
telling over and over again their part in the capture and harpooning.

As for the sailor, he was in his glory. He related the incidents of the
chase with great minuteness, not omitting the one about the steamer. He
even sold small slivers from the handle of his harpoon.

“Sure I can easy make another handle,” he confided to the boys, “but
it’s not every day I can sell a bit of wood for twenty-five cents. I
must make money while the whale lasts.”

It only lasted three days, however, and the final one the patronage
visibly fell off. Even the boys did not seem very keen about going to
the tent.

“If it was ambergris in that whale, it would be all right,” Jerry
remarked, as he held a perfumed handkerchief to his nose. “But it isn’t
and that’s the fault of it.”

The others agreed with him, and that night a gang of men dug a big hole
in the beach and tumbled the whale into it. But Sam made a goodly sum,
which he wanted to share with the boys. They would take none of his
money, however, so the sailor made a liberal donation to charity.

“Seen anything more of Noddy?” asked Jerry of his chums one morning,
when they were out in their boat, cruising about the harbor.

“No, and I don’t want to,” replied Bob. “Noddy wouldn’t be so bad, if
we could know when he’s coming so as to avoid him, but combined with
Bill Berry the two are the limit.”

“That reminds me of something,” put in Ned. “I heard Bill Berry had a
job down here somewhere.”

“How’d you hear it?” Jerry asked.

“Got a letter from Andy Rush. He said he was talking with old Pete
Bumps, and Pete told him Bill had a job at some lighthouse along
the coast. Andy said he thought it was in this neighborhood, and he
went on to say that Pete wanted us to try and get him a job also.
Andy suggested perhaps Pete thought the work was as easy as the name
suggested. Andy says he may come down for a week or so a little later.”

“Queer Andy, with his rapid-fire talk,” remarked Ned. “I’d like to see
him. Wonder if it’s true about Bill? He might be at the lighthouse we
saw the other night.”

“We’ll have to find out,” spoke Jerry. “Now let’s talk about something
pleasant. What do you say to running ashore and having a bath? There’s
a nice place just ahead.”

The boys voted it would be a good plan, and the boat was steered
for the beach, where there were a number of bathing pavilions. The
_Dartaway_ was made fast to a dock and soon the boys were putting on
suits which they hired.

They remained in the water about an hour, enjoying the gentle surf, and
floating lazily beyond the line of breakers.

“This is something like life,” remarked Bob, as he let the waves carry
him toward shore.

“Surprised you’re satisfied without a sandwich while you’re floating,”
came from Jerry.

With a rapid motion of his hand, Bob splashed a small wave into Jerry’s
face, causing him to cough and splutter.

“That’s enough!” cried the joker. “I’ll quit.”

“Speaking of sandwiches reminds me it’s nearly dinner time,” remarked
Ned. “I’m going ashore.”

The others followed his example, and were soon in the booths, dressing.
Jerry had nearly completed his toilet, when he heard quite a commotion
in the compartment next to him. He knew it could not be caused by Ned
or Bob, as they were farther down the line. Some one was pounding on
the thin wooden walls and shouting:

“Help! Help! I’ve been robbed!”

“What is it?” cried Jerry.

“Some one has taken my diamond ring!” was the reply, and, as Jerry
peered from the door of his room, he saw a man, partly dressed, rush
from the one next him, crying at the top of his voice:

“I’ve been robbed! I’ve been robbed!”




CHAPTER XV

LOOKING FOR BILL


Jerry turned toward the rear wall of his compartment to get his
necktie, which was hanging on a nail. As he did so he happened to
glance out of the crescent shaped ventilating opening at the rear and
saw a man running over the sand, looking back every now and then.

Something about the figure seemed strangely familiar to Jerry, though
as he could not get a front view, he was puzzled for a moment.

“I know him! It’s Bill Berry!” he exclaimed.

Without pausing to adjust his collar and tie, Jerry ran out. He was
joined by his chums, and several men who had been alarmed by the cries.

“What is it?” asked half a dozen.

“I’ve been robbed! My diamond ring, worth five hundred dollars, is
missing!” shouted the half-dressed man.

“Where did you leave it?” asked an attendant.

“I hid it in my shoe.”

“You should have left it at the office. The management can not be
responsible for jewelry taken from the bath houses.”

“They can’t, eh? Well, we’ll see about that!” spluttered the excited
man. “I’ve been robbed and some one has got to settle with me for it.”

Jerry came close to the man who was raising such a disturbance and gave
a start.

“Why, Professor Snodgrass!” he ejaculated. “Is it really you?”

“Jerry Hopkins!” cried the man and shook hands. “I am delighted to meet
you!” And Uriah Snodgrass beamed on the boy. “How came you here? Do you
think I can find any valuable bugs or butterflies in this neighborhood?”

“Don’t know about butterflies and bugs,” answered Jerry, with a grin,
for he well remembered the failings of the old collector, who had
accompanied the motor boys on their trip to Mexico and across the
plains. “But what is this about your diamond ring?”

“Somebody has stolen it. And what is more, they have taken something
even more valuable--a case full of choice specimens of mosquitoes!” And
Uriah Snodgrass shook his head in despair.

“Mosquitoes!” snorted an attendant, in disgust.

“Ah! a rare collection, worth a thousand dollars or more!”

“I wouldn’t give you ten cents for a bushel of mosquitoes.”

“Well, I want them back--and I want my diamond ring,” said the
professor.

“How did it happen?” asked Jerry.

“I don’t know exactly. I had been in the water about an hour. When I
came out I dressed, and when I came to put my shoes on, before I put on
my coat, vest and collar, I happened to think I had left my ring in the
toe of my left shoe. I looked for it, and it was gone.”

“Was your door forced?”

“Didn’t appear to be.”

“Let’s have a look at your room,” suggested the attendant, and he led
the way to it, followed by a throng.

There was no evidence that the door had been tampered with. The lock
was not sprung, and there were no marks on the jamb, which would have
been the case had the door been forced open with a jimmy.

While Uriah Snodgrass, the attendant, and those gathered out of
curiosity were standing outside the bath house, Jerry went inside. As
he stepped on the floor he noticed that one of the boards was loose.
He stooped down, and found he could lift the plank up.

“There’s how the thief got in!” he exclaimed. “See there is a space
beneath the floor, and a man could crawl under from in back.”

“That’s so, these houses set on piles driven into the sand,” the
attendant stated. “There’s a space of about two feet between the floor
and the beach.”

“Then I’ll sue the management!” declared the professor. “The idea of
leaving things so a burglar could push up a board, reach his hand in,
and take whatever he wanted!”

“You should have left your ring at the office,” insisted the man who
looked after the pavilions. “What sort of a ring was it?”

“It was a big diamond set in the head of a snake with two rubies for
eyes,” Professor Snodgrass replied. “It’s all right enough to talk
about leaving it at the office. Lock the stable door after the horse is
stolen is a good motto, also, but it doesn’t give me back my ring. I’ll
sue some one.”

While the professor was muttering to himself, and finishing dressing,
Jerry motioned to his chums who had come up to speak to Uriah
Snodgrass, to follow him. He led them a safe distance away and said:

“Guess who I saw.”

“Noddy Nixon!” exclaimed Ned.

“Bill Berry,” replied Jerry, and he told what he had observed.

“What do you suppose he was running away for?” asked Bob. “Are you sure
it was Bill?”

“Positive. As to what he was doing I believe he stole that ring.”

“Let’s go tell the professor,” suggested Bob.

“It wouldn’t do any good,” came from Jerry. “We haven’t any proof, and
we might get unpleasantly mixed up in the thing.”

“What would you suggest?”

“What do you say to trying to locate Bill?” Jerry went on. “If he’s
working at a lighthouse near here we can easily find him. There are
not so many. There’s one up the coast about five miles, and one down
from here, about the same distance. We can take a couple of days at it
cruising around, and combine business with pleasure, though it’s not
very nice business hunting for Bill. What do you say?”

“Fine!” exclaimed Ned.

“It will be a regular picnic!” from Bob.

“Oh, of course it will if Chunky goes along,” put in Ned. “Always
thinking of something to eat. Don’t take the compass for a can of peas
next time!”

Bob aimed a blow at his tormentor, but Ned cleverly dodged it.

“Let him alone,” suggested Jerry. “He was punished enough. Well,
if you’re agreed, let’s get ready to make the trip. We can start
to-morrow.”

The boys talked the robbery over with Uriah Snodgrass in a general way
but did not mention Bill Berry, not wishing to excite the professor too
much. They learned that their old friend was only down to the shore
for the day and must go back to the city to deliver a lecture at eight
o’clock that evening.

“I shall sue somebody,” said Uriah Snodgrass, “if I don’t get my ring
and my box of mosquitoes back.”

“Perhaps they will turn up some day,” answered Bob; and then the motor
boys and Uriah Snodgrass separated.

The boys spent the afternoon cleaning the engine and getting the boat
in shape for the proposed trip. They made sure they had a compass
along this time, and Bob was only allowed to supervise what was
strictly eatable.

“Shall we try the upper or the lower lighthouse?” asked Jerry.

“The upper one,” suggested Bob. “We’ve seen the lower one, at least the
light of it from a distance, but never the upper.”

So it was arranged. Early the next morning the boys were at the dock.
As they unlocked the boathouse they heard a voice singing, as the owner
trudged along the beach:

    “It was on the isle of Nankum,
     Near the land of Timbuctoo
     That poor old Sam fell overboard one night.
     There was a great commotion
     In the middle of the ocean,
     Sure he gave the sharks and whales a terrible fright.”

“Salt Water Sam!” exclaimed Ned.

“Avast and belay my hearties!” shouted the sailor, who was nothing if
not good natured. “Whither away this bright, beautiful morning?”

“Up the coast,” replied Jerry. “We’re going to take a look at the other
lighthouse.”

“Just the thing!” cried Sam. “I know lighthouses like I do the sea.
It’s part of my business. I’ll go along, and we’ll combine business
with pleasure.”

“How’s that, by catching another whale and exhibiting it?” asked Bob.

“It’ll be sharks this time,” the sailor went on. “Wait till I get my
tackle and I’ll be with you.”

“He doesn’t wait to be asked,” commented Jerry with a laugh.

“Oh, let him come along,” put in Ned. “He’s good fun, and he helped us
a lot. Besides, he may know the lighthouse keeper.”

“And it will be sport to fish for sharks,” added Bob.

“Oh I’m willing,” came from Jerry.

Sam soon returned from the shack where he lived with two good sized
hooks, some short lengths of chain, and a coil of thin rope. He also
carried some salt pork in a paper.

“If we land a couple of big ones we can take in almost as much as we
did on the whale,” he added. “Course the sharks around here aren’t the
great big fellows, but eight feet is no slouch of a fish, and I’ve seen
plenty that size.”

They started off, sailing across the harbor toward the mouth, and,
passing through the narrow strait, laid their course up the coast. The
sea was calm, and the day a fine one for a sail.

“How do you fish for sharks?” asked Bob.

“Just bait the hook and throw it overboard,” replied Sam. “But we’ll
wait until we’re on our way back. Don’t want to tow a shark up to the
lighthouse.”

About two hours’ run brought the boat in sight of the upper point, on
which the warning beacon was built. It stood in bold relief against the
sky, a tall white object, like a big round chimney.

“Will they let us go in it?” asked Bob.

“Sure, I know the keeper,” replied Sam. “He’s an old friend of mine.”

There was a little dock near the foot of the lighthouse and to this the
boat was made fast. As the boys scrambled up the rocks that led to a
little level plateau on which the house was built, they kept their eyes
open for a sight of Bill Berry.

The only person they saw, however, was a little girl. She had light
flaxen hair which streamed all about her head in the stiff wind that
was blowing.

“Hello lassie; is your papa in?” asked Sam.

“Yes, sir, he’s filling the lamps.”

“Tell him Robinson Crusoe and his three men, Friday, Saturday and
Sunday would like to see him.”

“Are you really and truly Robinson Crusoe?” demanded the child, her
eyes big with wonder.

“Well I was shipwrecked often enough to be,” was Sam’s answer, as
he smiled. “Jack Stilkins will know who’s here when he gets that
message,” he added, and the little girl went into the lower part of the
lighthouse.




CHAPTER XVI

LANDING A SHARK


“Hello, Sam! Up to some of your jokes again, eh?” asked a hearty voice,
and a short, stout man, with blue eyes, which contrasted strangely with
the bronze of his face, came from the tower. “I knew it must be you,
when the lassie came in, all excited, at having seen Robinson. How are
you? Where you going? Who are the lads with you? How’ve you been?”

“I’ll give you my log book and let you take a look at it if that’s the
way you’re going to go at me,” answered Sam. “The fact of the matter
is the boys, here, want to see a lighthouse. They’re landlubbers, you
know.”

There was no use of resenting the way in which Sam spoke. He meant no
offense, and the boys, realizing his character, took none.

“Landlubbers, eh?” commented Mr. Stilkins. “Well, it’s too bad, but I
s’pose it’s not their fault.”

“No,” replied Sam gravely, as though it was a very important matter.
“They was born so,” and then the two men had a hearty laugh, in which
the boys joined.

“Well, I can show you the lighthouse, but there isn’t much to see,”
the keeper went on. “We just keep the light going at night. That’s all
there is to it. This is a flashing light. That is, it shows two red
flashes at intervals of ten seconds each.”

“The one below has a white flash and two red ones,” commented Jerry.

“Yes, that’s the difference, and it’s a big one for sailors. You see
it’s safe to come in right close to shore here. In fact that’s the
only channel. If they stand too far out they’ll fetch up on the rocks
or a sand bar. But they’ve got to do just the opposite in regard to
the other light. They must keep at least two miles out, or they’ll get
spitted on the rocks. So you see when they observe two red flashes only
they know it’s time to stand in, and when they see a white flash and
two red ones, it’s time to stay out. Easy, when you once know how; eh,
Sam,” and the keeper clapped the sailor on the shoulder.

“That’s what, messmate. Can you show the boys the machinery?”

The three chums were much interested in the mechanism that revolved
the lenses of the light, at the top of the tower.

“Do you have any help?” asked Jerry, thinking of the object of their
trip.

“Oh, yes, I’ve got a man who shares the trick with me.”

“Same one you had?” asked Sam, saving Jerry the trouble of putting a
question.

“No, this is a new feller came the other day.”

Jerry hardly looked at the other boys. He felt he was on the right
track.

“Who is he?” Sam went on.

“Name’s Bill--Bill--pshaw! I’ve clean forgotten it.”

Jerry felt the keeper must notice his confusion.

“There he is now,” went on Mr. Stilkins, pointing to a man coming
toward the lighthouse. Jerry and his chums turned expecting to see Bill
Berry confronting them. The shock, when they saw that the keeper’s
assistant was a little fat man, about as broad as he was tall, and
crosseyed; (as different as possible from Bill Berry), almost made
Jerry gasp.

“Hi, Bill!” called the keeper. “What’s your last name?”

“Smith,” was the answer.

“Must have been a terrible strain on your mind to remember that,”
commented Sam. “Well, have you boys seen enough?”

The chums felt that they had, considering that the man they sought was
not at this lighthouse. They silently made up their minds they would
have to try the next one.

As the little party boarded the _Dartaway_ the keeper called them an
invitation to come and see him at any time. He promised to show them
the light when it was in operation, and the boys resolved to take
advantage of the offer.

“Now for a little try at the sharks,” spoke Sam, as the boat got
underway and swung out into the channel. “I think we’ll stand out a
bit.”

“We might run on the rocks, they’re out a ways,” said Bob.

“Not with what this craft draws,” replied the sailor. “You haven’t got
over three feet, and the rocks are a fathom below the surface at low
tide.”

Sam prepared his shark lines. He had two of them, each one with six
feet of chain nearest the hook, for the big fish would bite through
the hempen strands in an instant. The hooks were of good size, and Sam
baited each one with a bit of the fat salt pork. Then he fastened the
lines to the stern of the boat, and taking up his position where he
could feel to see if there was a bite, he tossed the bait overboard.

“Send her slow and easy,” he said to Ned, who was at the wheel. “We’ll
soon be on their feeding ground.”

With the motor running on first speed the boat, which had been put some
distance out from shore, went down along the coast. It was a calm day,
and so clear that objects could be seen for a long distance.

“Well,” remarked Jerry in a low voice to his two chums, who were in the
bow, “we didn’t land him that time.”

“Got to try the next lighthouse,” said Bob. “What are we going to do
when we find Bill?”

That was a phase of the question that had not occurred to any of them
up to this point.

“Make him give up the ring,” suggested Ned.

“We’d better go slow, where Bill Berry is concerned,” Bob said. “I
think it would be better to tell the professor what we know.”

“Let’s find Bill first,” counseled Jerry. “Be careful not to let any
one know we’re looking for him.”

Sam, who had been sitting quietly in the stern, with his hands resting
lightly on the lines, suddenly jumped up and began pulling on one.

“Did you hook him?” cried Bob.

“He got away,” the sailor said in a disgusted tone. “He was only
nibbling at the bait. But we’re amongst ’em now. Be on the watch.”

Jerry and Bob went back to join Sam, while Ned stayed to run the engine
and steer. But the first bite was not at once followed by any others.
The boat went along for a mile or more before Sam gave any evidence of
feeling the hooks touched. Then he uttered a yell:

“I’ve got one now!”

He began to haul in on the line, calling to the two boys to help him.
The lads yanked with all their strength, as did the sailor, but they
had met their match. Something at the other end of the line was pulling
against them, and they could not budge it.

“Speed up the boat a bit!” called Sam. “We’ll tire him out and try
again!”

Ned put the motor to second speed, and the craft churned through the
water. Sam waited a few minutes and then tried the line again, the boys
helping him.

“He’s a little easier now,” the sailor remarked. “That pulling on his
jaw weakened him.”

In fact they were able to get in some slack now. They pulled and
pulled, until it seemed that they must have gotten up enough line to
reach to the bottom of the ocean. Still nothing showed. But there was
always that dead weight at the end of the small cable.

“Look out for trouble when he gets near the surface,” panted Sam. “Ned,
can’t you lash the wheel and come back here with the hatchet? We’ll
need you.”

Ned fastened the wheel so as to keep the boat in a straight course,
and, wondering what part he was going to play, picked up a long-handled
hatchet Sam had brought along and went to the stern.

His chums and the sailor were still hauling on the line, their hands
and arms aching from the strain. Foot after foot was pulled aboard
until Sam exclaimed:

“We’ll have him up in a few seconds!”

Hardly had he spoken when there was a commotion near the surface of the
ocean, about ten feet from the stern of the boat. The water was lashed
into foam, and in the midst of the swirling eddies could be seen the
tip of a big tail, and the triangular shaped, dorsal fin of the shark.

“There he is!” yelled Sam. “He’s a big one!”

It seemed as though they had hooked on to a small whirlwind beneath
the water, or a miniature torpedo that was in full flight around in a
circle. The big fish, in its efforts to get rid of the hook, and escape
that relentless pulling, was fighting with all its savage strength.
With fins and tail it sought to get away.

“Pull! Pull!” cried Sam. “Ned, stand ready with the hatchet, and clip
him on the head when you get a show!”

Closer and closer to the boat they pulled the shark. They could almost
grasp the chain part of the line now. Then, above the water, was thrust
the ugly head of the fish. While it was not a man-eater, or as large as
the shark of the tropical seas, being in fact only an immense dog fish,
the creature was so ugly and horrible, with its under-shot mouth, and
unblinking eyes, that Jerry and Bob were almost inclined to let go.

“Hold on!” cautioned Sam, taking a turn of the rope about a cleat.

Then the fish lashed out more furiously than ever with its tail. The
water was white with foam. The big jaws snapped ominously close to the
boat. The craft rocked and pitched with the violence of the fish’s
efforts.

“Quick, Ned, or he’ll upset us!” called Sam.




CHAPTER XVII

THE ABANDONED VESSEL


“I can’t reach him!” cried Ned, leaning as far over as he could,
hatchet in hand.

“Have to pull him closer,” panted Sam. “Altogether now, boys!”

The three grasped the chain and hauled. Nearer and nearer, came the
fighting shark. The jaws never ceased snapping in an endeavor to bite
through the chain.

“Quick, Ned!” cried Jerry.

Ned raised the keen little axe. Resting one hand on the gunwale he
leaned forward, and, with all his strength sent the blade into the head
of the big fish. It was buried almost to the handle.

There was one wild, convulsive lashing of the tail, one final
tremendous effort on the part of the shark to break away. Then, with a
quiver, which almost shook loose the hold of Sam and the boys, the big
fish was helpless.

“There!” remarked the sailor, with a sigh of relief, “that was a fine
catch, and a bigger one than I counted on. He put up a good fight.”

“How big is he?” asked Jerry, as he wrapped his handkerchief around his
hand where the rope had cut it.

“Seven feet if he’s an inch,” replied Sam. “Folks’ll pay money to see
him.”

“Looks as if some were coming now,” put in Bob.

They all glanced toward shore, as they were now opposite Harmon Beach,
and from the summer resort a number of boats were putting off, headed
for the _Dartaway_.

“Wonder what’s up?” said Jerry.

Sam was engaged in putting a line about the shark’s tail, by means of
a boat hook, in order to secure his prize, as the barb might pull from
the jaw. On his direction the boys also put a cable about the fish’s
gills, and the two lines were fastened to a cleat at the stern of the
craft.

“Now we’ll head for shore,” said the sailor.

By this time several motor boats were within hailing distance of the
boys’ craft.

“What’s the matter? Are you sinking? Do you want any help?” were some
of the cries.

“No, we’re just shark-hunting,” replied Jerry.

“It looked, from shore, as though you were trying to keep the boat
from sinking,” said a young fellow in the nearest craft. “There was a
general alarm, and we all started out for you.”

“Much obliged,” Jerry replied. “But we’re all right.”

The other boats crowded around, the occupants looking in wonder at the
big fish, which was being towed close to the surface. The shark was
taken safely ashore and Sam, showing his prize under canvas, reaped
another harvest, only not so large as in the case of the whale.

“What will you boys do next?” asked Mrs. Hopkins with something like
despair in her tones, when she heard of the latest adventure of her son
and his chums. “Jerry, I’m afraid to have you go out in that boat.”

“Why, there’s no danger, mother. We can all swim.”

“But suppose a shark, like the one you caught, should come after you?”

“Those aren’t the kind that eat people,” put in Ned, anxious to
reassure Mrs. Hopkins.

“I’ll never go bathing again unless it’s in the tank,” said the widow.
“I’ll always be thinking of sharks.”

“We haven’t begun to exhaust the possibilities of this place,” put in
Jerry.

“Now do be careful, please,” begged Mrs. Hopkins, and the boys promised
faithfully.

The boys remembered this promise about three days. In that time
they turned down a request of Sam’s that they go off on another
shark-hunting expedition, and also one to take a long cruise to the
southern part of the coast after another whale, he said he had heard
was sighted.

“We’d like to help you, Sam,” said Jerry. “But it’s too much risk.”

“Well I’ll bet you boys will take bigger ones when I’m not with you,”
the sailor said. “Never mind, I’ve made more money this summer than I
ever did in a season before, thanks to you. Any time you want Sam’s
help, just come to him,” and he strolled off singing:

    “I caught a shark, I caught a whale,
     I caught a lobster by the tail.
     I caught a skate, I caught its mate,
     All hands on deck and don’t be late!”

“It’s about time we made a trip to the other lighthouse to see if we
can spot Bill Berry,” remarked Ned one afternoon.

“Shall we ask Sam to go along?” came from Jerry.

“Well, he seems to know the ropes, and he’s lots of fun. Besides we
sort of turned him down the last time he asked us to go out.”

It was agreed that they would take the old sailor, but when they sought
him they learned he had gone off for a couple of days on a fishing
trip. They decided they would await his return. In the meanwhile they
made short trips up and down the beach, going ashore to have lunch,
which was served from the boat’s pantry. Mrs. Hopkins was a guest on
one or two occasions.

One morning the boys were awakened at the cottage by a loud pounding
at the kitchen door. None of the servants was up and Jerry, poking his
head from his bed room window, which overlooked the rear entrance,
called out:

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me! Sam! Hurry up boys!”

“What’s the matter? Is the place on fire?”

“No, but there’s a big vessel gone on the reef down the coast.”

“A wreck?”

“Yes, and she’s abandoned.”

“Anybody killed?”

“No, the life-savers got every one off. But there’s a chance to pick
up some cargo, and make money. She’s pounding to pieces fast. Hurry,
’fore the other boats get ahead of us. All hands on deck!”

“What’s the matter?” inquired Mrs. Hopkins, who was awakened by Sam’s
excited voice.

“Oh, he wants us to go out and see a wreck,” spoke her son.

“Now, Jerry, be careful.”

“I will, mother. There’s no danger. Hi! Ned and Bob! Going to sleep all
day?”

His chums got up in a hurry at the hail and, while they were dressing,
Jerry told them what Sam had said.

“He’s always around when there’s a chance to make money,” commented Ned.

“It’ll be worth while to see a wreck,” Bob remarked. “I’m glad the crew
and passengers were saved.”

The boys made a hurried breakfast and then went down to the dock where
the _Dartaway_ was tied. They found Sam before them, getting things
ready for the trip. He had a number of boat-hooks and several coils of
rope.

“Might as well go at this thing scientific,” he said. “We ought to be
able to pick up a good bit of the floating cargo.”

“How did it happen?” asked Ned.

“Made a mistake in the lights, I hear,” the sailor replied. “Thought
they were further up the coast. It was thick last night, and they went
on the reef. Valuable cargo, too, and they threw a lot overboard,
trying to lighten the ship, before they found it was hopeless.”

In a little while the _Dartaway_ was speeding out of the harbor, and
down the coast toward the wrecked vessel. The haze of the night before
had lifted and the air was clear. The sea was calm, though Sam seemed a
little surprised as he glanced at the barometer.

“She’s falling,” he muttered.

“What does that mean?” asked Bob.

“Well, it generally indicates a storm,” the sailor replied. “But I
guess we’ll be back long before it comes. There’s no sign of it now.”

The boat was speeding along at good speed. The coast line opened up as
they forged ahead, and soon they had a good view of a broad expanse of
water.

“There she is!” cried Sam, pointing ahead.

“What?” inquired the boys all at once.

“The wreck.”

“I can’t see anything,” objected Ned.

“See that little black speck, just below where that gull is hovering?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it.”

“Must be quite a way out,” commented Jerry.

“Seven miles,” the sailor replied. “But that’s nothing. The whale took
us farther.”




CHAPTER XVIII

ABOARD THE WRECK


The motor boat made good time, and about an hour later was almost at
the wreck, which, as the boys could see, was that of quite a good
sized steamer. She had run well up on a rocky reef, and when the tide
fell, the strain had “broken her back” so that the bow and stern were
separated. The stern was low in the water, and gradually settling.

“Good thing it’s calm,” Sam remarked, “we can get close up, and,
perhaps go aboard.”

“Will they let us?” asked Jerry.

“There’s nobody to stop us,” replied the sailor. “The ship is
abandoned. True, we can’t take anything away, but we can pick up
anything we see floating, and claim salvage on it, and, by the looks
there’s a lot of cargo gone overboard.”

By this time they were quite close to the wreck. On one side the waves
were breaking against the steamer in a way that made it dangerous to
approach. The motor boat was sent around, however, and Sam saw a place
protected enough to allow the _Dartaway_ to go up close.

It required a nice bit of seamanship to get aboard, but here was where
Sam’s long years of service served him and the boys in good stead.
They made their boat fast to some dangling ropes, and soon were on the
sloping deck of the after part of the wrecked steamer.

All about were evidences of the haste with which the crew and
passengers had departed. On the deck were scattered articles of
clothing; boxes and trunks had been broken open and the most valuable
things taken.

The boys ventured to the edge of the deck, where it had been almost
completely separated from the forward part. They could look down
through the various holds and into the engine room.

“Pity to see all this gone to waste,” remarked Jerry. “Can’t they save
any of it?”

“Don’t look so,” replied the sailor. “It’s about as bad a wreck as I
ever saw. They’ll have hard work lightering the cargo off here. Maybe
it’s well insured.”

It was a new and novel experience for the boys to be aboard a big
wrecked steamer. They went below, though it was anything but easy,
considering the condition of the companionways which were at all
angles. They went through the cabins, into some of the staterooms, and
saw many valuable articles, but Sam advised them not to touch any.

“I’m not clear on the law,” he said. “I know it’s all right to pick
stuff out of the sea, but it may be piracy or worse to take it off a
vessel so near shore. We’ll get enough as it is. I see the stuff is
fairly tumbling from the hold in the forward part of the ship.”

“Hark! What’s that noise?” asked Jerry suddenly, holding up his hand
for silence.

Above the splash of the waves against the side there sounded a long,
drawn-out cry.

“It’s a baby! Some one has forgotten their baby!” cried Sam. “The life
savers took everybody off, and left the baby behind!”

Once more the cry came. It was a regular wail.

“That’s a cat!” declared Bob.

“I tell you it’s a baby!” the sailor insisted.

This time there came an unmistakable “mew!”

“Where is it?” inquired Jerry.

They listened and the cry was repeated several times. They finally
traced it to an open hatchway, and, looking down could dimly make out
the form of a cat on some boxes.

“Come on up, pussy,” called Ned.

“Mew! Mew!” cried the feline, as though asking for help.

“Guess it can’t get out,” Sam said. “Things are all topsy-turvy down
there.”

“Will we have to leave the poor thing here to drown?” Ned asked. He was
very fond of animals.

“I guess not,” the sailor replied. “Salt Water Sam ain’t that kind. I
wish it was a baby though, I’m terrible fond of babies.”

“How are you going to get it?” asked Bob.

“I’ll show you,” and the sailor began looking about for a means of
rescuing the kitten.

He soon found what he wanted. It was a long rope, and before the boys
had fathomed his intention he rove one end of it through a pulley on
the end of a boom that projected from a mast, and which had been used
to hoist cargo from the hold.

“Now if you boys will lower me down I’ll get the pussy and you can haul
us both up,” Sam said, as he fastened the rope about his waist. The
chums did as he requested, and soon Sam’s head disappeared into the
depths of the vessel. The boys could hear him calling:

“Here, pussy! Here, pussy! Sam’ll take care of you! Must be hungry,
poor little kittie!”

They felt the rope slacken, indicating that the sailor had landed on
the pile of boxes. Then it shook, showing that Sam was after the cat. A
little later they heard him calling:

“Haul away! I’ve got her!”

Just as the boys began to pull on the rope that was to hoist the sailor
from the hold there came a sudden jar to the wreck. The deck, that was
tilted at a sharp angle, assumed a more decided one. At the same time
there was a grinding, crashing sound.

“Hurry!” yelled Sam. “She’s breaking up!”

There was a sickening lurch to the after part of the ship. The boys
could hardly keep their feet.

“Pull! Pull!” cried Sam, from the depths of the hold, where the cargo
could be heard shifting about.

“All together!” sang out Jerry, and the boys put all their strength to
the rope. Sam came up “on the run” and was landed on deck. He held the
cat in his arms, the frightened creature clinging closely to him.

“No time to lose, boys!” cried the sailor, as he loosened the rope from
his waist. “She’s sliding off into deep water. We must leave her!”

They made a rush for the side, climbed over the bulwarks and slid down
the rope into the _Dartaway_. The cat still clung to Sam. The boys
could see the wreck moving off the reef which had hitherto held it in
place. It was slipping into the deep water astern.

“Start the engine!” cried Jerry as he sprang to the wheel. Ned turned
the fly wheel over. The chug-chug sounded at once, and with a splutter
the boat was off, darting away from the wreck.

“Get well out! Well out!” cried Sam, “or we’ll be sucked under!”

Jerry speeded up the motor. The boys looked back. Faster and faster the
stern of the wreck was slipping into the sea. The waters seemed to be
reaching up to swallow it.

Then, with a sound like a great sigh half the steamer disappeared from
sight beneath the waves. There was a boiling and bubbling in the water,
and a giant whirlpool formed. But the _Dartaway_ was beyond the reach
of it. The force of the sucking currents tossed the small craft about,
but Jerry kept the engine going at full speed, and soon they were in
calmer water.

“That was a narrow squeak,” observed Sam. “But we saved the cat,
anyhow,” and he patted the animal.

The sea, all about them, was dotted with bales and boxes from the
ships. More were constantly coming to the surface as they were
released from the sunken wreck.

“Better make hay while the sea is calm,” observed Sam. “There’ll be a
lot more boats out here in a little while, and we want to get our share
of the wreckage.”

Then with the boat-hooks they had brought the boys and the sailor began
pulling in what they could reach. Some of the boxes seemed to be very
light.

“I wonder if there’s anything in ’em?” Bob asked.

“They’re labeled,” spoke Ned.

“Cinchona bark,” read Jerry. “Why, that’s the stuff they make quinine
from. This is valuable.”

“I thought we’d make something on this deal,” said Sam, much pleased.
“You stick to Salt Water Sam and you’ll be rich.”

“It begins to look so,” admitted Ned, with a laugh.

“Here come some more boats,” called Jerry, and he pointed to where
several power craft, and some big dories could be seen approaching.

The occupants were bent on the same work as were the boys, and they
picked up all the floating wreckage they could.

“Better not overload the craft,” Sam cautioned, after half an hour’s
work.

“Why, it’s calm, and we only have a short run to shore,” objected
Jerry, who wanted to get all of the valuable bark he could. Some of the
boxes and bales were too heavy to be taken into the _Dartaway_.

“Well, I don’t like the looks of the weather,” Sam answered. “There’s
no immediate danger, but you never can tell what a gasolene engine will
do. Remember our one experience.”

“Then you think we’d better start back?” asked Ned.

“Well, say in an hour,” was the sailor’s reply.

“Why, it’s two o’clock,” exclaimed Bob, as he looked at his watch. “Two
hours past dinner time. I’m starved!”




CHAPTER XIX

ADRIFT IN THE STORM


“I guess it wouldn’t be a bad plan to eat, and then point for home,”
Sam observed. “Have we got any grub aboard?”

“Plenty, trust Chunky for that,” came from Ned. “Set it out, Bob.”

Bob went to the locker where the food was kept. As he opened it he gave
a start.

“What’s the matter?” asked Jerry.

“There’s not much left,” the fleshy youth replied. “I forgot to fill
up the lockers last night, and we’ve been having several picnics this
week.”

“I guess there’s enough until we get home to supper,” Ned put in,
taking a look. “Of course there is, Chunky. You must be especially
hungry.”

“I am,” sighed the fat lad. “But I’ll have to stand it, I suppose.”

There was just enough food and water for one meal, but no one worried.
They were only seven miles from shore, and there was a number of boats
around them.

They ate their meal leisurely, and, when they had finished there was a
can of sardines and a few crackers left.

“Hello! Where are all the other boats?” exclaimed Jerry as he looked
about. None was in sight.

The sea was deserted, besides their own craft, only the forward part of
the wreck was to be seen. The waves were still covered with floating
debris.

“I guess it’s time we scooted,” remarked the sailor. “The storm’s going
to break sooner than I expected. The glass is falling rapidly. Put for
shore, boys.”

Jerry went forward to start the engine, which had been stopped. He
turned the gasolene and spark levers, and Bob threw over the wheel.
There was no answering explosion.

“Once more,” Jerry said.

Again Bob turned. The wheel spun around under his efforts, but there
was no chug-chug.

“Queer,” muttered Jerry. “What’s the trouble? She never acts like this
unless something’s the matter. Ned, see if we have plenty of gasolene.”

Ned sounded the tank in the bow.

“Well?” inquired Jerry, as Ned seemed to be at the operation longer
than was necessary.

“There isn’t any.”

“Isn’t any?”

“Not a drop! See!” and he held up the sounding stick. It was as dry as
a bone, only the odor of the fluid clinging to it.

“Why, it was full when we started! How could it get out?”

“Well, it _is_ out,” Ned replied.

Jerry made an examination. As much of the tank as he could see did not
appear to be damaged. He was at a loss to account for the disappearance
of the gasolene. He looked over the side and uttered an exclamation.

“There’s what did it!”

“What?” asked Bob.

Jerry pointed to a small iron rod which had pierced the bow of the
_Dartaway_ from the outside. It had penetrated through the galvanized
iron gasolene tank, and the fluid had run out into the ocean. There was
enough space around the iron, which was still in place, to allow the
fluid to get out, but, as the rod had entered in an upward, slanting
direction the hole did not admit any sea water, so the boat did not
leak.

“How in the world did that get there?” asked Jerry, as he gradually
worked the rod out.

“Must have stuck into us when we were at the wreck,” put in Sam.
“That’s just how it happened. Good thing it was no bigger.”

“Lucky the gasolene didn’t all leak out until we got away from being
sucked down in the whirlpool,” remarked Ned. “The rocking of the boat
helped it run out.”

“Well, what are you going to do?” inquired Jerry.

“Hoist some sort of a signal,” advised Ned. “Otherwise we’ll be here
all night.”

“All night!” exclaimed Bob. “And no grub! Oh, it makes me hungry to
think of it!”

“Chunky, I would think for once you might let up on your everlasting
appetite,” came from Jerry a little sternly. “We are just as badly off
as you are.”

“I can’t help it, Jerry. Just think of it, only one can of sardines
among four of us! Let’s see, there are ten sardines in a can, that’s
two and a half each! Why, I’ve often eaten two whole boxes myself.”

“You’ll be lucky if you ever eat again, sonny,” said Sam, with an
anxious look at the sky.

“Are we in any danger?”

“Well, of course we may come out all right, but shiver my timbers, I
don’t like the looks of that bank of clouds over in the east. It’s
coming on to blow, or I’m mistaken, and that’s something which doesn’t
often happen to Salt Water Sam.”

“What had we better do?” asked Jerry.

“It might be a good plan to hoist a signal. After that we can get
things ship-shape, and wait. That’s all.”

The _Dartaway’s_ flag, upside down, a signal of distress, was fastened
to a boat-hook, that being the tallest pole they had, and fastened in
the bow. Then, under Sam’s direction they fastened the awning well
down, and, with a bit of tarpaulin rigged up a small sail, by means of
some boat-hooks.

“We’ll need steerage way,” said the sailor, “and we haven’t a drag this
time.”

“Had we better throw overboard some of this cargo?” asked Ned.

“No, it’s not heavy enough to do any harm, and it will make the boat a
little steadier,” said the sailor.

It was getting quite hazy by this time, and there was a curious calm to
the air, as though the storm was just waiting for the word to break in
all its fury. The water had a strange oily look, and the waves rolled
without the least bit of foam flying from their crests.

The _Dartaway_ was the only craft in sight, save where a dull blot
showed that part of the wreck still clung to the rocks that had broken
her back. The other boats had long ago scudded for shelter. The shore
could not be discerned, and even the lighthouse, which was usually
visible for a long distance, was wiped out.

There was nothing more to be done. Anxiously the boys scanned the ocean
for a sight of some craft that might tow them in. They had no means of
moving, as there was no wind, as yet, and they had some time ago gotten
into the habit of leaving out a pair of oars with which most motor
boats are provided to use in case of emergency. They had seldom needed
them, and they would have been of small service, anyway, as the craft
was too heavy to be propelled in that fashion at sea.

“Well, we’re as ready for it as we’ll ever be,” remarked Sam, when he
had seen for a second time to all the fastenings. “Let her come and get
it over with.”

“Do you think we’d better eat now, or--or afterward?” came from Bob.

“Chunky, if you mention grub again until we’re safe ashore I’ll throw
you overboard!” cried Jerry. He had seldom spoken so sharply, and it
told of the strain he was under.

“There now,” came soothingly from Sam. “Don’t worry. If worst comes
to worst we can live for several days on ten sardines. I was on a raft
once, afloat ten days, and all I had was a pair of boots, and one shoe
lace. That was hard lines! And we might eat the cat!”

“Never!” cried the boys.

An hour or more passed, with the _Dartaway_ drifting aimlessly on
the ocean, which was beginning to heave as if from the influence of
some hidden power. It grew much darker, though it was only about five
o’clock.

“Do you s’pose the life-savers will see us?” asked Ned. “They have a
station near here, where they came out from to rescue those from the
wreck.”

“No chance of them seeing us this far out,” said Sam. “They could see
where the wreck was in the mist, as it sent up signal lights. But we
haven’t any.”

“I’ll always carry them after this,” spoke Jerry.

The inverted pennant of the boat fluttered a little in the breeze. The
haze seemed to grow thicker. The sailor stood up and looked on all
sides. Then he tightened the ropes holding the improvised sail, and
made it smaller in area, not by reefing it, for there was no way of
doing that, but by setting it lower on the rigged “jury” mast. He also
took down the ensign.

“No need of losing that,” he said, “and it’s sure to go when the blow
comes. It can’t be seen a quarter of a mile away now.”

Now, over the waters, came a strange, weird sound, as though some one
had blown on a big conch shell, miles away. It grew in volume until it
filled all the air. The boys looked about in wonder.

“It’s the wind! Here comes the storm!” cried Sam.

An instant later the blast came. It flattened down the heaving waves
for a few seconds, and then blew off their tops in a spray of foam.

The motor boat heeled over, as though it would capsize. Then the small
sail filled out. All at once the wind seemed to die away. But, a few
seconds later it came with increased fury.

“It’s shifted!” cried Sam. “We’re being blown out to sea!”

The _Dartaway_ spun around like a top, and scudded through the waves.




CHAPTER XX

NODDY’S COMPANION


Now the storm had broken in all its power. How the wind whistled over
the boat, almost tearing the awning loose! But Sam had seen to the
fastenings, and the old sailor well knew the awful force of a gale. The
sail, too, held, though it needed all the strength of the ropes Sam had
carefully placed here and there to brace it.

“Take the wheel!” roared Sam to Jerry. “I’ll look after things here!”

Making his way as best he could along the rolling and pitching boat,
Jerry grasped the steering apparatus. It was all he could do to hold
the helm, so violently was the rudder twisted from side to side.

Well for those aboard the _Dartaway_ that she was a stanch craft,
well that she had been built with a view to hard service. For now her
stoutness was called upon, and now was her stability likely to be
tested to the utmost.

Once the first fury of the blast was over the boys did not seem to
mind it so much. It did not appear to blow so hard when they were
scudding along with the wind. The sea was soon a rolling mass of
billows, but the _Dartaway_ with her watertight compartments, rode
over the waves like a duck. True, she was tossed here and there, but
her covered bow and stern did not allow any water to enter, while the
spray, except now and then in a violent gust, was prevented from coming
aboard by the stout awning.

The red and green side lights had been set aglow some time before,
though it is doubtful if they could be seen ten feet away, because of
the tossing waves.

“Let’s start the search-light,” said Ned. “It will show us where we are
going and prevent us being run down.”

Sam said it would be a good plan, and the beacon was soon ignited,
sending out its glaring pencil of light over the dark and angry waters.

“She’ll stand to come in a bit,” called Sam to Jerry. “Hold as close
to the wind as you can, and we’ll try and scud along the coast. We may
fetch up somewhere on a point if we’re not too far out.”

Jerry shifted the wheel, and the _Dartaway_, answering well to her new
power, changed her course. Suddenly it began to rain, a downpour so
violent that it served in a measure to flatten down the crests of the
waves.

Though the rain served this good turn, it was unwelcome on another
account. Tight as the awning was, much water now came in through the
flaps that would blow open a bit, in spite of Sam’s efforts. In a
little while there was scarcely a dry spot aboard the boat, and the
occupants were wet through.

But, in spite of their terror (and the boys were not ashamed to admit
they were frightened); in spite of their plight which was about as bad
as could be, there was a certain feeling of pride in their boat. It was
a gallant craft, and the lads, more than ever, felt the _Dartaway_ was
a friend indeed.

On and on the wind drove her. It was impossible to tell where they
were. The searchlight showed a waste of heaving waters and a downpour
of rain, that fell on the top of the canopy as though it would beat it
down about the heads of the occupants of the craft. The wind blew more
steadily now.

“We’re all right,” spoke Sam, encouragingly. “We’ll weather the gale.”

A small acetylene lamp inside the awnings gave light and by its
glow Ned made some coffee on the gasolene stove. It took the last
of their slender supply of water, but Sam said they had better keep
their strength up through the storm, as they would probably get help
by morning. Then, with the ten sardines and the crackers they made a
midnight lunch which, in spite of the surrounding, was much enjoyed.

Through the whole of the night they were driven by the storm. How he
steered Jerry never knew. It was going it blind, in the dark. But the
_Dartaway_ carried them safe, and, when morning dawned, the rain had
ceased, the sun came up and the wind had become merely a fresh breeze.
It had shifted its direction again, at which Sam, after a glance at the
compass, uttered a joyful cry.

“Couldn’t be better,” he announced. “It’ll take us right back home
again. Say, you boys are certainly lucky!”

They opened the awnings and let the boat dry out. Then, with the wind
at their backs, filling the sail, which had been made as large as
possible, they headed for home.

“No breakfast!” sighed Chunky, but to himself. He did not want the
others to overhear.

No one except the fleshy youth seemed to mind the lack of food,
however, though all were very thirsty, and there was not a drop of
water aboard.

“We ought to make land by noon, at this rate,” Sam said.

Chunky said nothing, but he pulled his belt a little tighter across his
stomach. He seemed to feel better, when he had thus reduced the “size
of his hunger.”

It was about ten o’clock that morning when Sam, who was steering, cried:

“There’s the lighthouse, boys! We’ll put in there for repairs.”

There, looming up in the sun was the big white tower that stood on a
rocky point which jutted out from the main land. It was still several
miles away, but their present course was taking them straight toward
it. It was the lower or South light, as it was called, the one the boys
had intended to visit, but which they had not as yet.

“I hope he’s got gasolene there,” said Jerry. “I can mend the tank, and
we can soon be home.”

“I guess Peter Hardack, the keeper, can fix you up,” spoke Sam. “He
keeps a lot of supplies on hand.”

An hour later they were at the lighthouse. The keeper saw them coming
and was down to his small dock to meet them. When he saw Sam the
keeper exclaimed:

“If it isn’t my old friend! What have you done, turned motor pirate?”

The sailor briefly explained their plight.

“Come right in!” exclaimed the hospitable Mr. Hardack. “I’ll get you
some breakfast and you can dry your clothes.”

“Have you any gasolene, and can we send a message to Harmon Beach?”
asked Jerry anxiously.

“Both, sonny. Come right in.”

The boat was made fast to the dock, and the little party of mariners
were escorted into the living rooms of the lighthouse, which were in a
small apartment built around the base of the tower.

“Here Jessica!” called Mr. Hardack. “Jessica! Where are you?”

“Coming, uncle,” called a voice, and a tall pretty girl entered the
room, stopping in confusion at the sight of the strangers.

“Here are some almost-shipwrecked people,” the keeper went on with a
smile. “They want some hot coffee, and anything else you have.”

“Don’t go to any trouble,” said Ned, and Bob glared at his chum.

“Oh it’s no trouble. My niece will see to things. And take care of the
cat, too.”

While breakfast was being prepared Jerry telephoned to a hotel near his
mother’s house and asked that a message be sent to relieve her worry.
Then, having borrowed some old clothes of the keeper, the boys and Sam
dried their own.

After breakfast Jerry mended the leak in the gasolene tank, and, buying
some of the fluid from the keeper, soon had the _Dartaway_ in shape
for another voyage. They bade their new friends good-bye, receiving an
invitation to come again, and soon they were back at Harmon Beach. They
took the cat with them and Mrs. Hopkins made a pet of it.

They found there was some excitement over their absence all night, but
Mrs. Hopkins had come to regard the boys’ escapades with a sort of
philosophy. She believed the lads would turn up all right somehow.

Sam attended to the matter of the salvaged cargo. An agent for the
steamer came to the beach, and took charge of all the stuff that had
been saved from the sea. The sailor and the boys received a goodly sum
for the valuable bark they had saved.

It was about a week after this that the three lads had gone in their
boat to a small summer resort about three miles down the coast, where
there were varied amusement features. They took in several of them,
and, as they were strolling along the boardwalk, getting ready to come
home, Jerry nudged Ned.

“Who’s that just ahead of us?” he asked.

Ned looked. At that moment a girl and a youth just in advance of the
three boys came under an electric light.

“Why, it’s Noddy Nixon!” exclaimed Ned in a whisper.

“And who’s with him?”

“The girl from the lighthouse! Jessica!”




CHAPTER XXI

A RACE WITH NODDY


For a few moments the boys were too surprised to know what to say. They
trailed along after Noddy and the girl, noting that the two seemed to
be enjoying themselves. As the couple entered an ice cream store Jerry
remarked:

“Well, it’s a free country. He can take out any girl he likes, I
suppose, and we haven’t anything to do with her.”

“It makes me mad to see a nice girl like that out with such a fellow as
Noddy,” exclaimed Ned.

“Ah, I guess Ned’s lost his heart,” spoke Bob.

“Lost nothing!” sputtered Ned. “But you know what sort of a chap Noddy
Nixon is. Would you want him to go out with any girl you knew?”

“But you don’t know this one,” said Jerry.

“I’ve been introduced to her,” replied Ned. “But I suppose it’s none of
our business. Come on, let’s go home.”

“I guess Ned is rather smitten with Jessica,” remarked Jerry in a low
voice to Bob, as they started for Harmon Beach.

“Don’t blame him,” came from Bob. “She’s a fine girl.”

On the way home the chums talked over Noddy’s sudden reappearance. They
agreed he was not a pleasant acquaintance to have, but decided as long
as he did not interfere with them they could do nothing.

“I wonder if Bill Berry is still around,” said Ned. “Haven’t heard
anything from him lately.”

“That’s one thing I forgot when we were at the lighthouse,” spoke
Jerry. “I meant to ask Mr. Hardack if he had a helper, but it slipped
my mind.”

“Perhaps you were too busy looking at Jessica,” came from Bob.

“Not exactly,” replied his chum. “But I must admit I had a strange
feeling when I heard the keeper call her Jessica. I thought of the man
in the wreck.”

“She can’t be the same one,” argued Ned. “He was an old man, and his
daughter must be quite a woman by this time. Jessica is only a girl.
Besides, her name is different.”

“Jess and Jessica might be the same,” put in Bob.

“There are lots of things that might happen,” Jerry commented. “We’ll
have to wait and see what turns up.”

“Are you going to the lighthouse again?” asked Ned.

“We might,” Jerry replied. “I want to ask about Bill Berry. But you
needn’t come along.”

“I guess I’ve got as good a right there as you have.”

“Oh, of course, but I thought you might not like to see Jessica, seeing
that she had such bad taste as to go out with Noddy Nixon.”

“She doesn’t know him as well as we do,” said Ned hotly.

“Never mind, I was only joking,” Jerry added. “We’ll all go to the
lighthouse, and see what we can learn.”

When the boys got home that night they found Sam awaiting them. He
was in the dining room and was telling Mrs. Hopkins some of his sea
stories. Jerry’s mother was much interested in the old sailor.

“Want to go blue fishing to-morrow?” Sam asked, when the boys had begun
eating a little lunch the cook sent in, probably in honor of Bob.

“Sure!” was the cry in a chorus.

“They’re running fine,” the sailor replied. “Old Pete Scud went out
to-day and got forty-five.”

They arranged to go the next day, and started early in the morning.
They had excellent sport, and the boys landed several beauties.

“What will we do with them all?” asked Jerry as he looked at the pile
of fish in the big basket in the boat.

“We can sell most of ’em,” replied the sailor. “The rest you can give
to your friends.”

“Can I have a couple of the big ones?” asked Ned.

“Sure,” answered Jerry. “What do you want ’em for?”

“I’m going to make a present of them.”

Sam was given the larger part of the catch, the boys keeping enough for
the cottage, while Ned took two of the finest ones.

“What are you going to do with them?” asked Jerry, as they got back to
the dock about noon.

“Well if you must know I thought I’d take them to Mr. Hardack at the
lighthouse. He probably likes fish.”

“Probably Jessica does, also,” put in Bob, with a grin that caused Ned
to make a sudden lunge at his chum.

“We’ll go with you,” said Jerry. “Take the fish along, Ned. It will be
a sort of love offering,” and he laughed, while Ned blushed.

That afternoon the three boys in their boat started for the South
Light, as it was called to distinguished it from the next one above,
or the North. The fish had been packed in ice to keep them fresh, Ned
attending to this item with much care.

The day was a fine one, and as the _Dartaway_ sped out of the harbor
and round the point, preparatory to going down the coast, the boys
chanted one of Salt Water Sam’s odd songs.

“This is glorious!” cried Bob. “I wish it would last forever. A life on
the ocean wave for me all right.”

“Except when we run out of grub,” put in Ned, with a grin.

As they swung down along the coast, the boat making good speed, their
attention was attracted to the puffing of a craft just behind them.
They looked and saw another motor boat coming along at a lively clip.
In it were two figures.

“Don’t let them pass us,” called Jerry to Ned, who was at the wheel.

“Don’t worry. It’ll have to be a pretty good boat to pass the
_Dartaway_.”

The newcomer seemed inclined to race. He was getting his engine up
to top speed, and the pile of water in front of the bow of his craft
showed he meant business.

The boys began to sit up and take notice. They saw that the other boat
was a swift one, and, as it was a trifle smaller than theirs, and
narrower, it stood a better chance. But they were not going to give up
so easily.

Jerry and Bob began oiling the motor while Ned settled down to
business. He shoved the levers over, and, for a while ran the
_Dartaway_ on second speed. By this time the other boat was about
opposite them.

“Can you see who’s in it?” asked Jerry of Ned.

“No. Seems to be a fellow and a girl. He has a cap on, and I can’t see
his face. Her hair blows about her so I can’t make out who she is.”

The occupant of the other boat evidently had accepted the race, and was
doing his best to win. He was steering a straight course, and the two
craft were not more than a hundred yards apart.

They kept it up for a couple of miles, the engines exploding away like
a battery of Gatling guns in full action. Gradually the _Dartaway_
began to draw ahead. Inch by inch she left her opponent behind, until
he was hopelessly out of the race.

“Better slow down now,” cautioned Jerry. “We’re close to the
lighthouse.”

Ned shut off some power, and, a few minutes later, steered the boat up
to the small dock at the base of the lighthouse.

“Glad to see you!” called a voice, and the keeper came down the stone
steps to welcome them. “Haven’t been out in any more storms, have you?”

“Not lately,” replied Jerry. “How are you?”

“Oh, things are always the same here. Come in and have a bite to eat.
My niece is away but I’m pretty good at setting the table.”

Ned’s face showed the disappointment he felt.

“Here are some fish we caught,” he said, offering them to Mr. Hardack.

“Well now! Say, that’s kind of you. I was just wishing for some blues,
and I haven’t time to get any. I told my helper to get some, but he’s
not as spry as he might be.”

“What’s his name,” asked Jerry, thinking this a good opening to find
out what he wanted to know.

“Merry--no, it ain’t Merry, it’s Cherry--no, it ain’t Cherry
either--land I am forgetful. It’s some name like that. Berry--that’s
it--William Berry. I’ve only had him a few weeks. My other man took
sick and I had to get one in a hurry.”

The boys looked at each other. None of them dared to make a remark, but
Jerry seemed much excited.

“Come on in,” went on Mr. Hardack. “Well I declare, there’s another
boat coming. That must be Jessica. She went out for a cruise with a
young chap she met at an entertainment or something the other night.”

The boys looked and saw the craft they had lately raced with coming to
the dock. In a little while it was so close they could make out the
features of those in the motor boat.

The girl was Jessica, and the youth was Noddy Nixon.




CHAPTER XXII

OVERHEARING A PLOT


Noddy was so much engaged in making a landing at the dock that he did
not observe the three boys until he had come up alongside the string
piece. Then, as he glanced up, he muttered an exclamation below his
breath.

“Oh, uncle, I had a lovely ride!” exclaimed Jessica, as she got out.
“It was glorious! Oh, there are the boys who were almost shipwrecked
the other night,” and she bowed to the motor lads.

“Well, now you must all come in and have a glass of milk and some
cake,” said Mr. Hardack. “Jessica bakes fine cake.”

“That’s the way uncle flatters me!” exclaimed the girl with a laugh.
“But come in, all of you; please do.”

The motor boys were in a quandary. They wanted to see the workings of
the lighthouse, which they had been told were quite novel. Ned had
to admit he wanted to see Jessica, and Jerry was anxious to get more
information about Bill Berry. As for Noddy, he did not seem to know
what to do. He was fumbling at the painter of the boat he was in.

“Aren’t you coming in, Mr. Nixon?” asked Jessica.

“I forgot--I have an engagement,” muttered Noddy. He bent over the
engine and was cranking it up. “I’ll see you again, Miss Jessica,” he
called, and with a bow, he steered his boat away from the dock.

“Well, you three boys come in,” insisted the keeper. “We have very
little company here, and we must make the most of it. See the fine blue
fish they brought me, Jessica.”

“They’re lovely,” the girl said, though she looked a little troubled.
Ned wondered if she regretted Noddy’s departure.

Over the simple lunch which was soon set out the boys grew better
acquainted with the keeper and his niece. She mentioned that she had
met Noddy at a sociable where a girl companion had introduced her to
him.

“He’s very nice to me,” Jessica confided to Ned. “He is going to take
me for a long ride in the boat some day. It’s very fast, even if you
did beat us to-day. His engine wasn’t working right, or he’d have come
in first.”

Ned tried to turn the conversation. He did not want to talk about Noddy
behind his back.

“There’s my assistant,” spoke Mr. Hardack, as he pointed out of the
window. Jerry and his chums looked. Though they said nothing they had
no difficulty in recognizing Bill Berry. He was filling some lanterns
at an oil box in the yard.

“I don’t much fancy him,” the keeper went on. “He’s too silent. This is
a lonesome place, and I like persons who can talk. I hope you boys will
come again.”

“We’ll be glad to,” Jerry replied.

Mr. Hardack showed them all over the lighthouse. They inspected the
machinery, which, by means of weights, revolved the frame containing
the powerful lenses.

“We flash one white light and two red lights at intervals,” explained
the keeper.

“And if anything should interfere with the proper workings of the
machinery, I suppose there would be danger,” said Bob.

“Well, I guess so! The sailors depend on seeing a white flash and two
red ones when they get here. It means keep out. Why we even have an
emergency apparatus, so that if the automatic one breaks we can turn
the lenses by hand. The government doesn’t want any failure of the
light.”

The boys were shown through the store room, near the kitchen, where the
oil and other supplies were kept. The lighthouse was some distance from
any settlement, and in stormy weather it was hard to get food and other
necessities. So a goodly supply was kept in stock.

“I think we’d better be going,” remarked Jerry, as he looked at his
watch and noted it was four o’clock. He wanted to get off with his
chums and talk over matters.

“Don’t be in a hurry,” spoke Mr. Hardack. “We don’t get enough company
as it is, do we Jessica?”

“No, indeed, uncle.”

“Did you ask if there was any mail?” asked the keeper, of his niece.

“Yes, I stopped at the post-office when I was out with Mr. Nixon, but
there were no letters.”

“Strange; we ought to hear pretty soon now,” and the keeper seemed
worried about something.

“I’m sure we’re much obliged for showing us the place,” put in Ned, and
then he started out, followed by his chums. Mr. Hardack went down to
the dock with them. On the way Jerry tried to get a look at Bill Berry,
who was still busy filling lamps, but the man kept his back turned.

“Now don’t forget to come again,” Mr. Hardack went on, as the boys got
in their boat. “You see my niece is sort of lonesome. That’s the reason
I let her go off with that Nixon fellow once in a while, though I don’t
exactly like him. She wants cheering up.”

“Is anything the matter?” inquired Ned.

“Yes, you see her father, he--”

But the rest of what Mr. Hardack would have said was lost as, just
then, Bob started the motor, and it made such a noise until Jerry
slowed it down, that the keeper’s words were inaudible. When the noise
had ceased the boat was some distance from the dock, and Mr. Hardack
was waving them a farewell. Ned thought he saw a handkerchief shaken
from a window in the lighthouse, but was not sure.

“I wonder what he was going to say about her father,” Jerry said, when
they had headed the boat for home.

“He’s dead, probably,” Ned spoke. “She dresses in black, you notice.”

“I didn’t notice particularly, but it seems you did.”

“I’ve got eyes,” was all Ned replied.

“Queer Noddy should be sporting around there in a motor boat,” said
Bob. “I wonder where he got it?”

“Bought it, same as we did,” came from Jerry, “or hired it. His father
keeps him supplied with money, in spite of his escapades.”

The boys paid several other visits to the lighthouse, and each time
received a warm welcome. They found Jessica home only once; the other
occasions she was out riding with Noddy Nixon, her uncle said.

“He’s getting altogether too thick around here,” the keeper complained.
“I don’t want to say anything, as Jess needs cheering up, and I guess
he isn’t such a bad sort. One thing I don’t like though, he and that
helper of mine, seem to have some sort of a secret between them.”

“How’s that?” asked Jerry, trying to speak as though he did not much
care.

“Well, I was surprised to notice that a rich young chap, such as this
Nixon boy seems to be, would know a fellow like Bill Berry. Bill’s a
good enough worker, but he’s a sort of shiftless man, and I don’t know
much about him. He’s tramped around considerable, he tells me, and I
reckon there’s lots he hasn’t told me. But one day I saw him and young
Nixon talking as though they had known each other all their lives. Now
wouldn’t that strike you as being sort of queer?”

“Oh, well, maybe it’s all right,” spoke Jerry, warning his chums, with
a look, to say nothing.

“But that’s not all. The other day I saw young Nixon pass Bill a note,
and when he saw I was watching, he got red, as though it was something
to be ashamed of. I don’t like it, and I’m going to be on the watch.”

On their way home that afternoon, from the lighthouse, the boys talked
over what Mr. Hardack had said.

“What do you make of it?” asked Bob.

“It’s hard to say,” replied Jerry. “Maybe they’re up to some of their
old tricks, trying to get us into trouble.”

“Yes, and maybe they’re trying to get Mr. Hardack and Jessica into
trouble,” put in Ned.

“Jealous, eh?” asked Jerry.

“Well I guess you don’t like to see Noddy Nixon paying attention to
Jessica, or to any other nice girl for that matter, any more than I do.
I don’t know as that’s jealousy.”

“No, you’re right,” came from Jerry, who spoke in a serious tone. “Of
course we have nothing to go by, but I think there’s something in the
wind. I am almost certain Bill Berry stole that diamond ring from the
bath house, and I’m going to tell Professor Snodgrass what I know about
it. I shall also inform him where Bill is, and he can do as he pleases
about having him arrested.”

“What about Noddy?” asked Ned.

“We’ll see what develops. Maybe Noddy is mixed up in it, though I don’t
really believe he’d steal.”

That night the boys, in their boat, went to the amusement resort, where
they had first seen Noddy walking with Jessica. There was a minstrel
performance scheduled, for the benefit of the local hospital. As they
tied the craft to the dock, among a score of other boats, Ned remarked:

“I guess I’ll stay here, fellows. I don’t much feel like taking in the
show.”

“Want to sit and think of Jessica,” said Jerry, with a laugh. “Well you
are certainly getting moony, old chap. You’d better take some liver
medicine. Come on, Bob, we’ll see the fun.”

“Yes, and get something to eat, too. Better come, Ned.”

“No thanks, I’ll stay here.”

It was really nothing more than a whim on his part to remain behind
in the boat. Ned was really getting quite fond of the girl at the
lighthouse, but he did not admit it, even to himself. He had a vague
feeling that he would like to be alone and think.

He stretched out on some cushions in the bottom of the craft, and was
star-gazing to his heart’s content. Next to the _Dartaway_ was a large
sailing sloop, which was there when the boys made fast to the dock. The
high sides threw a deep shadow over the motor craft. Ned was disturbed
from his reveries by the sound of some one walking along the dock. It
had been silent for some time, save for the distant sound of the music,
and at first he believed the boys were coming back. Then he heard
voices he knew were not those of his chums.

“Is this the sloop?” asked a man.

“Yes,” was the answer. “Get aboard where we can talk without being
overheard, though I guess there’s no one around.”

Ned could hear the men going aboard the sailing craft. They went into
the cabin, and then some one opened a port just above the boy’s head,
as he was stretched out in the motor boat.

“It’s beastly hot in here,” some one said.

“Yes, been shut up all day. Now, how much have you got done?”

“Well, I’ve found the steamer’s due here in a few days now, and it’s
got a valuable cargo aboard. Stuff that will float easily. We ought to
be able to pick up a lot of it.”

“How about the lights?”

“That’s all arranged. Bill has a job at the place and he is going to be
in charge that night. It’s Hardack’s time off, and Bill will fix the
lights so’s to fool the pilot of the steamer.”

“How’s he going to do it?”

“Just cover the one flash, and make only two flashes just like the
North light gives.”

“Is there any one else likely to give trouble?”

“There’s only the girl, and we can easily get her out of the way. Oh,
it’s going to be easy. We’ll be there to help Bill if he needs it.
Now--what’s that?”

The voices suddenly ceased.




CHAPTER XXIII

THE MOTOR BOAT MISSING


In his eagerness to listen to what the men were saying Ned had gotten
up on his knees. In doing so he had knocked down a monkey wrench from a
seat, and the tool fell with a clatter to the bottom of the _Dartaway_.

“Some one is listening!” he heard one of the men in the sloop exclaim.

“Nonsense,” the other replied. “It was only an oar banging against the
side of the boat.”

“Some one was listening I tell you! I’m going out to take a look.”

Ned decided it would not be wise for him to be found in the boat.
While the man was ascending to the deck of the sloop the boy crawled
noiselessly over the side of the _Dartaway_ and hid behind a box on the
wharf. From there Ned watched the man leap from the sailing boat to the
dock, and take a careful look around, including making an inspection of
the _Dartaway_.

“See anything?” asked the one who had remained in the cabin.

“No one around. I guess you were right.”

“Course I was. Come aboard and we’ll finish our plans.”

With a rapidly beating heart Ned watched the man until he had
disappeared into the cabin. Then without making any noise, for he wore
rubber soled shoes, he hurried up the dock to the pavilion where the
minstrel performance was going on. He wanted to tell his chums and
decide on a plan of action.

“They’re plotting to wreck a vessel,” thought Ned. “They’re going to do
something to the lighthouse light. We must stop them.”

There was such a big crowd at the show that the boy had some difficulty
in locating his companions. When he did find them it was in the middle
of a chorus, and Ned did not wish to disturb the audience in going to
them, as the two lads were seated well up front. When he did reach them
he whispered:

“Come out! I’ve got something important to tell you!”

“Leave us alone,” spoke Bob. “Go back and dream about Jessica if you
want to. This is fine, and we haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, hang you and your eating!” exclaimed Ned in such a loud whisper
that he attracted the attention of several around him.

His manner showed his chums there was something up, and without waiting
for the show to be over they went with Ned. When he was outside he
quickly told them what he had heard.

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” asked Jerry, half inclined to
doubt what Ned had related.

“Come on, and I’ll show you the sloop.”

The boys went down on the end of the dock where their own, as well as
the sailing vessel had been fastened. Ned was leading the way. As he
reached the place where the _Dartaway_ had been he stopped and rubbed
his eyes.

“Why--why--I wonder if I’m on the wrong dock?” he said, staring about
him.

“What’s up?” inquired Jerry.

“Isn’t this where we left our boat?”

“Sure, there’s only one dock near here. Why?”

“Well, it’s gone.”

“What, the boat or the dock?” asked Bob. “Come on, tell us, I want to
get back and have something to eat.”

“The _Dartaway_ is gone!” exclaimed Ned. “So is the sloop! They’ve
stolen our boat! They must suspect something!”

At first Jerry and Bob could not believe it. Then Ned went over again
all that he had heard, telling how he had slipped away to inform them
of how matters stood.

“They must have known it was our boat,” said Jerry. “Was Bill Berry one
of the men?”

“I couldn’t see them plainly,” Ned replied. “Their voices didn’t either
one of them sound like Bill’s though. What’s to be done?”

“We’d better give notice of our boat being stolen,” said Jerry, “and
think of some scheme to get home. After that we’ll have to turn
detectives and get the _Dartaway_.”

The minstrel show was over when the boys went back to the pavilion, and
the crowd was coming away. The dock was thronged with persons seeking
their boats to make the run for home.

“Hello boys!” called a voice, and they saw Captain Jenkinson, of
the _Three Bells_ coming toward them. “You look as if something had
happened.”

“Something has,” spoke Jerry. “Our boat’s been stolen.”

“Stolen! You don’t mean it. How?”

Ned related how it had happened, saying nothing however of the
conversation he had overheard.

“We’ll tell the manager of the place, and he’ll send out a general
alarm,” said the skipper of the _Three Bells_. “It isn’t the first time
boats have been stolen from the docks around here. I believe there’s an
organized gang. If we had a decent police force here it wouldn’t happen
so often.”

The manager of the pavilion and amusement resort, who was also a sort
of deputy sheriff, promised the boys to do what he could to recover
their craft. He said he would have notices of the theft posted at his
dock and all the other wharves along the coast.

“How you boys going to get home?” asked Captain Jenkinson.

“Walk I guess,” replied Jerry with a laugh. “It’s only about five miles
by the shore road.”

“Well I guess you’ll not walk while there’s gasolene in the _Three
Bells_,” was the hearty answer. “Get aboard. We’ll cruise around a bit,
and maybe we’ll get sight of those rascals on the sloop. They probably
sailed out to sea, towing your boat, and they’ll be likely to hide it
in some cove until the affair blows over.”

Captain Jenkinson had a party of friends aboard his boat, but there
was plenty of room for the boys. There was much sympathy expressed for
them, and every one volunteered to be on the lookout for the _Dartaway_.

In the powerful boat quite an area of the bay in the vicinity of the
dock was covered, in a search for a sight of the sloop. It was a fairly
light night, and a sailing vessel could be made out some distance away.

There were several false alarms, and once the _Three Bells_ gave chase
to a sloop that seemed trying to get away. But when they got up to her
they found it was only a fishing boat getting a start for early morning
work, and there was no sign of the boys’ craft.

“Too bad!” remarked Captain Jenkinson, as he landed the boys at their
dock. “But it’s sure to turn up sooner or later. They’ll not dare to
sell her, and can only keep her hidden. There are not many places where
a boat the size of yours can be tucked away.”

It was kindly and well meant consolation, but the boys never felt in
lower spirits than they did that night. Mrs. Hopkins tried to cheer
them up, but it was hard work. She even suggested they hire another
boat and make a search of the nearby harbors, for the missing one.

“I guess that’s a good plan,” said Jerry to his chums. “We’ll do it
to-morrow.”

“What ought we to do about warning Mr. Hardack?” asked Ned, as they got
ready to retire.

“Oh, I almost forgot about that,” came from Jerry. “I guess there will
be time in the morning. Besides, we want to think it over a little
more.”




CHAPTER XXIV

THE SECRET OF THE COVE


The boys made inquiries the next morning and found it would be
impossible to hire another motor boat. The season was at its height and
all the craft were engaged. Several of their newly-made friends offered
them the use of their boats for a part of each day, but the boys did
not want to take them on this condition. Besides, they wanted to be
away by themselves, as they had much to talk about.

“Hadn’t we better warn Mr. Hardack?” asked Ned, when they had exhausted
the possibilities of hiring a boat.

“I’ve been thinking of it,” Jerry said, “and I don’t see what
particular good it would do. We only know half the story. Besides,
those fellows might only have been talking to hear themselves talk.
It’s a mighty risky thing to wreck a vessel and tamper with a
lighthouse. They wouldn’t dare do it.”

“But it wouldn’t do any harm to tell the keeper what we know,” Ned
insisted.

“Only to get laughed at for our pains, in case nothing happened.
Besides, how are we going to get to the lighthouse without a boat?”

“We can walk around by the shore, it’s not more than ten miles,” went
on Ned.

“Love will find a way,” sang Bob, and he had to jump back to escape a
playful blow Ned aimed at him.

“I suppose we could,” remarked Jerry. “Maybe it wouldn’t do any harm to
go around there and see how the land lays. We can sort of give him a
hint, and warn him to be on the lookout for Bill Berry.”

“That will be a good plan,” agreed Ned. “When can we start? The sooner
the better.”

“Not until after dinner, I vote,” from Bob. “I can’t walk on an empty
stomach.”

“I don’t believe you ever tried,” Jerry said.

The boys inquired the best way to get to the lighthouse by going along
the shore, and learned it was about eight miles. They started after
lunch, and hard enough walking they found it, as most of the way lay
through deep sand.

“This is awful,” groaned Bob as he toiled along.

“Dry up, Chunky,” from Ned. “It will do you good. Besides, think of
what a service you may be doing.”

“I’m thinking about my chances for supper.”

The boys had gone about half the distance and were going along a series
of high sand dunes, covered with a growth of tall, rank grass, when
they were suddenly halted by a voice calling to them:

“Where you fellows going?”

They looked up, to see a roughly dressed man barring the path.

“I don’t know’s it’s any of your business,” Jerry replied hotly, for he
resented the man’s tone. “This is a free country.”

“That’s all right, my young friend,” the man said with a sneer, “but
this is private property, and we don’t allow any trespassing on it. So
you’d better be off if you know what’s good for you.”

“Can’t we go along the beach?” asked Ned.

“No, sir, you can’t go anywhere along here. We own for two miles back,
and if you try to pass here you’ll get into trouble. So be off!”

The boys hesitated. There was no way of proving that what the man said
was not so, and they did not want to get into trouble. To get past
meant walking two miles back in shore. As they stood there, wondering
what to do, another man came from somewhere in the tall grass and said
to the first:

“The boat’s in the cove. Floated in at high tide.”

“That’ll do!” was the quick retort, as though the first man feared his
companion would say too much. “I’m warning these chaps off our land.”

“Yes, and they’d better go if they know what’s good for them,” said the
other.

“Oh, we’ll go,” came from Jerry. “We don’t care about walking on your
property. I guess we can manage without doing so.”

The three lads turned and began to walk inland, across the waste of
sand, which was hot with the afternoon sun. The coast at this point was
rather high, there being a series of bluffs, which sloped abruptly down
to the beach.

“What shall we do?” asked Jerry when they were out of earshot of the
men.

“Nothing to do but to go around their place,” said Ned. “It will mean
about four miles more.”

Bob groaned.

“It’ll get some of that fat off you, Chunky,” Jerry remarked with a
laugh.

“It’s all right enough for you to joke,” growled the fleshy youth. “But
I can’t help it.”

“I wonder what he meant by saying the boat was in the cove?” came from
Ned.

“I was thinking about that myself,” Jerry put in. “I didn’t know there
was a cove along here.”

“Let’s take a look,” suggested Ned.

“How can we, without going back and meeting the men?”

“Easy enough,” came from Jerry. “We’ll walk along for a mile or so,
then cut down along parallel to the coast and walk back toward the
beach. We ought to come out right back of the cove, if there is one, or
very near to it.”

This was voted a good plan to follow, and, with no further objections
from Bob, the boys trudged along. It was hot and hard work, but they
were very anxious to find out the secret of the cove, as they believed
the men had some object in not allowing them to pass.

The locality was a deserted one. It was half way between two summer
resorts, and there was not a house in sight. It was about as lonesome a
place as one could find in the midst of civilization. Nothing was to be
seen but sand and rank grass.

“Do you s’pose these men had anything to do with stealing our boat and
with the lighthouse plot?” asked Bob, as he and his chums walked along.

“I’m not good at riddles,” returned Jerry. “First we’ll see what the
cove holds.”

They kept on for an hour and began to work their way in toward the
shore again. They kept a careful watch for the men but saw no one.
They came to a place where the weeds and grass were quite high. It was
tangled together by the wind and they had to struggle to get through
it. Jerry, who was in the lead, emerged on a clear, sandy place. He
gave one look down and uttered a low cry.

“What is it?” called Ned.

“The secret of the cove!” exclaimed Jerry.

He pointed to a small body of water below them as they stood on a high
sand bank. As the boys looked they saw a sailing vessel and another
craft floating near a small dock.

“There’s the sloop!” cried Bob.

“And there’s our boat!” exclaimed Ned. “We have found her again!”

“Easy!” whispered Jerry as he sank down, pulling his companions to the
earth. “There are the men!”

As he spoke three roughly dressed men came from a small shack near the
dock, and walked to where the sloop was moored. They were carrying
boxes and bales aboard.

“Looks like the stuff we picked up from the broken-backed steamer,”
whispered Ned.

“I guess they’re wreckers, who gather stuff that floats ashore,” came
from Jerry.

“And I’ll bet they’re the men I heard plotting about the lighthouse,”
said Ned. “We are on their track!”

“But how did they get their boat in here, and how did they float the
_Dartaway_ in?” asked Jerry. “This looks like a little lake.”

“Isn’t that a sort of creek over there?” asked Bob, pointing to an
opening in the midst of the rushes that surrounded the cove.

“So it is. That’s what he meant about high tide. They can only get
in the cove when the tide is up, and makes an entrance by way of the
creek.”

“And, for the same reason, we can’t get our boat out until high tide,
and that will not be until late to-night,” said Bob. “We’ll have to
wait until then.”

“Lucky we have the chance,” came from Ned. “I hope the coast will be
clear.”

“We’ll get our boat, anyhow!” exclaimed Jerry. “I’d like to see those
men keep her.”

“We’ll wait until there’s water enough in the creek to float her out,
and then we’ll sneak down there, get in and start off before they know
what’s happened,” spoke Ned. “I hope she’s in running order.”




CHAPTER XXV

AT THE LIGHTHOUSE


The boys remained concealed in the high grass for some time. They
watched the men moving about on the sloop and near the hut, but the
thieves seemed to pay little attention to the motor boat.

“I wonder if they’re getting ready for a trip?” said Bob. “That will
make it easier. If they leave we can go down there and get something to
eat.”

“Oh, Chunky!” exclaimed Ned. “You--” but he could think of nothing
appropriate to say, and so stopped short.

“They’re all boarding the sloop,” Jerry remarked, as he saw four men
come from the shack and go on the sailing vessel. “Going out of the
cove maybe.”

“Can’t, with the water as low as it is.”

“I only hope they go to sleep in the shack,” Ned remarked. “It will be
easier for us then.”

Through the long afternoon the boys waited. The little camp on the
shore of the hidden cove seemed deserted. None of the men was to be
seen. Toward evening there arose a thin column of smoke from the galley
of the sloop.

“They’re getting supper,” remarked Bob, with a sorrowful note in his
voice.

“Never mind, Chunky, you’ll get yours sooner or later,” said Jerry as
comfortingly as he could.

As it grew darker the boys noticed that the water in the cove was
agitated. The sloop, and the motor boat rocked at their anchorages.

“The tide’s coming in,” said Jerry. “It will soon be time to act. I
hope we can get to the _Dartaway_ without being seen.”

“We’ve got to,” spoke Ned. “If they see us it means we’ll have a lot of
trouble. We must crawl along until we get close to her. Then we’ll get
in. I’ll crank up, you can steer, and Bob can use a boat-hook to fend
us out from the shore.”

“Lucky she’s headed the right way to get out of the cove,” Jerry
remarked. “It will save time by not having to turn her.”

Thus it was arranged, and the boys, tired and hungry, remained hidden
in the grass until it was dark enough to put their plan in operation.

They watched the sloop closely. After their supper aboard, the men came
on deck and stood conversing a while. The boys could just make out
their forms in the dusk. One seemed to be doing the most talking, and
he frequently motioned off toward the sea.

“Acts as if he was trying to get them to go somewhere,” spoke Bob
softly.

But in the end the men went ashore, and after looking to the fastening
of the motor boat and a small rowing craft tied near it, they went into
the shack. Presently lights shone from it, and Jerry said:

“I guess we can sneak down now. Go easy, everybody.”

Cautiously the boys left their hiding places and began to descend the
slope that led from the bluff to the shore of the cove. Every now
and then they paused to listen. They could hear the men laughing and
talking in the hut.

Foot by foot they crept nearer. There was a path leading from the top
of the sand dune to the hut, but the boys did not take this, fearing
they would be seen. Instead they crawled on their hands and knees
through the grass. The process was a painful and slow one, for their
arms and legs came in contact with sand burrs, while innumerable
insects attacked them. But they suffered in silence.

“Easy now, we’re almost there,” came from Jerry.

At that moment the door of the hut opened, and a man looked out. The
boys, with wildly beating hearts, crouched down. They feared they had
been discovered.

“See anything?” called some one from inside the hut.

“No,” was the answer, “I thought I heard some one at the boats, but
I guess it was the tide swinging the sloop. Looks like a storm. Hope
we’ll get one by to-morrow night. It’ll be just what we need,” and the
man re-entering the hut, closed the door.

For a few seconds after this the boys remained silent in the grass.

“Lucky escape, that,” murmured Bob. “Five seconds more and he’d caught
us.”

Cautiously they resumed the progress toward the boat. Nearer and nearer
they came until Jerry, who was in the lead, was able to step over the
side into it. Ned and Bob followed. The latter grasped a boat-hook and
stood ready to fend off when the start was made. Ned and Jerry cut the
bow and stern lines with which the _Dartaway_ was made fast to the
little dock. They worked quickly and silently.

Jerry turned on the gasolene, and waited a few seconds to allow it to
fill the carburettor, as the boat had not been run in several hours.
Then he switched on the spark.

“Turn her over!” he whispered to Ned, who was in the engine cockpit.

The big flywheel went around under the impulse of Ned’s sturdy arm.
There was a sort of cough from the engine. Then came a chug, followed
by a splutter, and the motor got into action.

“Fend her off! She’s headed into the bank, and I can’t steer her out
quick enough!” cried Jerry to Bob.

Chunky pushed with all his strength, on the pole, against the bank.
Slowly the nose of the boat came out from the shore. The screw was
churning the water into foam. Jerry spun the wheel around, and headed
the craft for the channel, the opening of which he could just make out.

At that instant the door of the hut flew open, and in the light which
streamed forth several men could be seen running toward the shore.

“Hi there! Stop! Bring that boat back!” they called.

“Guess not! She’s ours!” Ned called back.

“We’re off!” exclaimed Jerry in a low tone. “She’s running like a
charm. They’ll never catch us!”

There was the sound of feet on the dock. Then came a squeaking of a
pulley block, the creak of ropes and the rattle of the boom on the mast.

“What’s the use going after them in the sloop?” they heard some one
cry. “There’s no wind. Take the rowboat!”

The thud of men jumping into the small craft tied near the sail boat
could be heard. There was the rattle of oars, and then the splash of
them in the water.

“They’ll never get out of the channel,” the boys heard one of the men
say. “We’ll catch ’em before they strike open water.”

“You will, eh?” thought Jerry. “We’ll see about that.”

The engine was speeded up. Jerry was beginning to distinguish things
better as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness on the water. The
channel was a narrow and winding one, but the incoming tide had made it
plenty deep enough.

The boys could hear the men frantically rowing after them, but it was
a hopeless race. The _Dartaway_ was speeding ahead. It kept Jerry busy
steering to avoid running into the bank, but presently the channel
widened and he had no more difficulty. On sped the craft until the
little creek emerged into a small bay, which, in turn, opened into the
ocean.

“We’re safe now!” cried Jerry. “Let’s light the lamps, and put for
home.”

The men in pursuit had been left far behind. While Jerry held the boat
on her course up the beach Ned and Bob kindled the red and green side
lights and the search lantern. In about two hours the _Dartaway_ was
safe at her dock, and the boys were telling their story to a number of
their friends.

“We must notify the police and get after those thieves,” said Captain
Jenkinson. “They’re dangerous men to have around. It’s a good thing you
discovered that cove. They probably have been hiding there a long time.”

But the primitive police system of the shore summer resort could not be
gotten in readiness for a raid that night, and when some constables did
go to the cove the next morning they found the sloop gone and the hut
seemingly deserted.

The boys found their boat had suffered little damage at the hands of
the thieves. Some tools had been removed as had a few of the cooking
utensils, but these were easily replaced.

“Now I guess we’d better make a trip to the lighthouse,” remarked Ned,
the next afternoon, when the _Dartaway_ had been put in shape. “We
ought to warn Mr. Hardack.”

“And, incidentally, I suppose, Jessica,” added Bob.

“I think they’ll give the whole plan up, now they see we are after
them,” Jerry added. “I believe they’ve cleared out for good.”

“It’ll do no harm to go over and see Mr. Hardack,” Ned insisted. “If we
find out there’s no likelihood of the thing coming off, we needn’t say
anything.”

They got to the lighthouse about five o’clock. Mr. Hardack greeted them
warmly.

“Come right in,” he said. “Sorry Jessica is not home. She was just
wishing some visitors would come, and about an hour ago that Nixon chap
came along in his boat and took her for a ride.”

Ned seemed less happy than when the start had been made.

“But come in,” the lighthouse keeper went on. “I’ve got some fresh milk
and Jessica baked some cookies this morning.”

Bob was the only one who looked pleased.

As the boys were getting out of their boat they saw a man coming down
toward where the oil lamps were usually filled. At first they thought
it was Bill Berry, but a second look showed them it was not.

“Got a new helper?” asked Jerry, trying to speak calmly.

“Yes, my other one skipped off yesterday. This chap came along and I
hired him. Had to have some one in a hurry.”




CHAPTER XXVI

HELD PRISONERS


The boys glanced at each other. This was something they had not counted
on. Evidently Bill’s companions had told him what had happened, the
night the motor boat was stolen, and he had fled, for some reason. It
looked as if the scheme of the plotters had fallen through.

“Did Bill--er--did your other helper say where he was going?” asked Ned.

“Not a word. He was filling the lamps--let’s see--it was yesterday
morning--come to think of it. A boat pulled up at my dock, and a man
got out and spoke to Bill. I had to go up in the tower, then. When I
came down Bill was gone and so was the man in the boat.”

“Rather strange,” commented Jerry.

“So it struck me,” Mr. Hardack went on. “But then you know these chaps
are sort of tramps. They’re here to-day and gone to-morrow. Always
roving around. Of course in the winter I have a regular assistant the
government provides, but in the summer time, just as at the life
saving stations, they take things a bit easier. However, this other man
came along, and he seems a lot nicer than Bill Cherry or whatever his
name was.”

The keeper led the way up the steps to the house, the boys following.

“Guess it’s just as well not to say anything,” spoke Ned in a low
voice. “They’ve given up the plot. We’d only be laughed at if we
mentioned it.”

His companions agreed with him, glad enough to feel there was going to
be no attempt to wreck a ship by means of false lights. The keeper set
out a big pitcher of cool milk and a plate of cookies, which, as Bob
said, were the best he ever ate, but then Bob was apt to say that about
anything in the culinary line.

“Yes,” Mr. Hardack was saying, “Jessica would have been glad to see
you. Poor girl, she has quite a trouble on her mind. I’ve been hoping
things would straighten out, but they don’t seem to. Her father, he--”

“Ting-a-ling-ling-ling!” rang the telephone bell. The keeper sprang to
answer it. The boys listened idly to the one-sided conversation.

“Yes, this is Mr. Hardack.”

“What’s that? Kate sick?”

“Come over? Yes--er--that is--Yes, I can come. I forgot I had a new
helper. I’ll be right over. Anything serious?”

“Can’t tell, eh? Well I’ll come as fast as I can,” and he hung up the
receiver.

“Any trouble?” inquired Jerry.

“Looks like it,” the keeper said. “My sister is quite sick. Taken
suddenly. They want me.”

“Where does she live?”

“It’s about six miles back in the country. I guess I can make it and
get back here by nine or ten o’clock. I wish I knew whether it would be
safe to leave the new man in charge.”

“Don’t the regulations provide for it?” asked Ned.

“Oh, yes, it’s my day and night off, and I have a right to go. But
I sort of hate to leave the light with him. He knows all about it,
however, and he’s got a government civil service certificate. He knows
just what to do, for he’s been in lighthouses before. I wish I knew
what to do.”

“Let us stay and help him,” suggested Ned.

“Will you?” asked Mr. Hardack eagerly.

“Sure,” chorused Jerry and Bob.

“Then I’ll do it. I want to see my sister. Her health is not very
good, and the doctor said she might die in one of her spells. I’d feel
safe to go if I knew you boys would stay here and help the new man if
necessary.”

“We’ll see to things,” exclaimed Jerry. “It will be jolly fun to be
partly in charge of the lighthouse.”

“Whatever happens, don’t forget two things,” cautioned Mr. Hardack.

“What are they?”

“The light must be lit at sunset, and it must be kept burning all
night. It must revolve regularly, even if it has to be done by hand,
and there must be a white flash and two red ones, at proper intervals.
But, you needn’t worry about that. The machinery is in perfect order.
The man will light the lamp, and start it going. It only has to be
trimmed once in a while. I’ll be back before ten o’clock. When Jessica
comes, she’ll get supper for you.”

Ned said nothing, but he looked as if that would be the best part of it
all, while Chunky’s eyes lighted up at the mention of another meal.

Mr. Hardack was soon ready to go. He had to walk the entire distance,
as there was no conveyance handy, but he said he did not mind that.

“I’ll introduce you to the new man,” he said, calling his helper from
where he was still busy filling the lamps. “His name is John Elkwood.”

The assistant did not seem a very good natured chap. He only nodded to
the boys, when Mr. Hardack introduced them, and, as he went back to his
work, Jerry heard him muttering to himself.

“Well, I guess I’ll get under way,” said the keeper as he started off.

“I say,” called Elkwood after him.

“What is it?”

“I don’t need those boys here. I can get along without ’em. They’ll be
in the way.”

“I want ’em to stay,” was Mr. Hardack’s answer, at which the boys heard
the new man muttering again.

“Not very friendly,” commented Jerry. “Still we can get along I guess.”

The boys spent an hour going over the lighthouse, with which they were
now rather familiar. In the meanwhile Elkwood was busy filling lamps,
there being a number used in the big tower. He attended to the light in
the big glass lantern and spent some time oiling the machinery.

“I wonder what time Jessica is coming back?” said Bob, as they sat down
in the sitting room.

“Was that one thought for her and two for the supper?” inquired Jerry.

“It’s about time she should be back, I think,” came from Ned.

“He’s only thinking of her, you see, Chunky,” Jerry went on.

“No, but it seems to be getting foggy,” added Ned, “and Noddy isn’t any
too good a hand at managing a boat. I wish she hadn’t gone out with
him.”

“Oh, she’ll be all right,” commented Bob. “Tell you what’s let’s do.
We’ll get supper and have it all ready when she comes. I guess we can
find the things to eat.”

“Trust Chunky for that even if he doesn’t have any dishes on the
table,” Jerry remarked. “Well, we’ll get the meal and invite Noddy to
it.”

“Not a bit of it!” exclaimed Ned. “When he sees us here he’ll go back
where he came from, fast enough.”

The boys found a well-stocked pantry, and, because of their camping
experiences had little difficulty in getting a meal ready. By this
time it was nearly seven o’clock. Ned kept rather anxious watch of the
hours.

“Let’s go down to the dock and see if we can get sight of her,” he
suggested.

“Who?” asked Bob.

“Why Jessica. It’s time she was back.”

Though he did not say so, Jerry was also a little anxious. The weather
looked anything but promising, and he had small respect for Noddy’s
ability to manage a motor boat in a calm, let alone a storm. Still
there seemed to be no cause for alarm.

The craft might have been stalled, but he did not believe Noddy would
venture far from shore, and, in the event of a breakdown, he could
signal to other boats, as there were several about the harbor.

It was still quite light, and would not be dark for another hour. It
was no use worrying, Jerry thought, until there was something to get
excited over.

They all went down to the dock, however, and scanned the sea for a
sight of the boat containing the girl and Noddy. Though there were
several craft in sight the boys did not notice Noddy’s, which they had
come to know from seeing it several times. It was one with a blue hull,
distinguishable for some distance.

“I vote we eat,” said Bob, as he turned to go back to the house.

“It wouldn’t be polite,” suggested Ned. “We’re only visitors.”

As they walked up the stone steps leading to the house, the boys were
met by Elkwood. The man had a scowl on his face.

“It’s time you chaps were moving,” he said in surly tones. “I don’t
want you hanging around here.”

“Why, Mr. Hardack asked us to stay,” put in Jerry.

“I don’t care whether he did or not. I’m in charge here. This is
government property and I’m the boss. I tell you to go, and don’t lose
any time over it, either.”

“I guess we’ll stay,” said Jerry coolly. “We told Mr. Hardack we would,
and we’re going to.”

“And I say you’re not. I order you off. It’s against the regulations
for you to be here after dark.”

“It isn’t dark yet,” spoke Ned.

“None of your lip!” exclaimed Elkwood. “Are you going to leave?”

“Not until Mr. Hardack comes back!”

“Then you can take the consequences!”

Elkwood put his fingers to his lips and blew a shrill whistle. At the
signal three men sprang out from behind some rocks that bordered the
stairway. They rushed at the boys, who were too surprised to stir. One
of the men was Bill Berry.

“We’ve got you this time!” their old enemy cried.

The next instant the boys were struggling with the men, who endeavored
to throw bags over their heads.




CHAPTER XXVII

TRYING TO ESCAPE


The struggle was a sharp but short one. The boys were no match for the
husky men, and though the lads kicked and punched with all their might,
they could not save themselves. In a few minutes they were securely
bound, and with the bags tight over their heads, were picked up by the
men.

“Where you going to put ’em?” they heard Elkwood ask.

“The storehouse is a good place,” Bill Berry replied. “They can yell
there all night and never be heard. Take ’em to the storeroom!”

The boys felt themselves being carried up the steps. Then they could
tell, by the muffled footfalls, that they were being taken into some
dungeon-like place.

“Shall we leave the bags on?” one of the men asked.

“No, I don’t want to smother ’em,” Bill replied. “They can’t make
themselves heard in here, no matter how they yell. Besides, there’s
nobody around. We’ve got Hardack out of the way and he’ll not be back
until morning.”

“You forget the girl. She may be back any minute.”

“I guess not. Noddy has charge of her. He’ll detain her some way or
other. Those motor boats have a habit of breaking down, you know.”

Then the bags were taken from the boys’ heads, but their bonds were
not removed, and they were laid down on the cold stone floor of the
storeroom. With sinking hearts they heard the men withdraw and lock the
door, leaving them prisoners in total darkness.

For a few seconds none of the boys spoke. They were so surprised and
shocked at the suddenness of it all they did not know what to say. At
length Jerry’s voice broke the silence:

“Are either of you hurt?”

“Only scratched and bruised,” replied Ned.

“My wrists are cut by the rope, and my legs hurt,” said Bob. “I’m hun--”

“Let up on that!” exclaimed Jerry with a violence he seldom used. “This
is no time to think of eating. Boys, it’s a mighty serious matter.
These men are going to wreck the ship!”

“Do you think so?” inquired Bob.

“Of course; what else is it? They have carried their plot into effect,
but they did it differently than I expected. Bill Berry’s going away
was only a blind, and it fooled us. This new man, of course, is in the
game. He came along as soon as Bill left, so no one else would be hired
for the place.”

“Do you think they got Mr. Hardack away by a false message?” asked Ned.

“Of course they did. It was all in the game. Noddy is helping them.”

“If I ever get hold of him I’ll make him wish he’d never had a hand
in it,” and Ned spoke so sincerely that his companions knew he would
keep his word. They thought of Jessica out alone with the bully, who,
possibly had purposely disabled the engine to keep her from getting
back to the lighthouse.

“Oh, if we could only do something,” exclaimed Ned.

“We’ve got to!” cried Jerry. “We can’t let the ship be wrecked by them
changing the light.”

“But how we going to stop ’em?” asked Ned.

“We must try and get loose,” Jerry replied. “They tied us in such a
hurry maybe some of the knots will slip. That’s our only plan. There’s
no use calling for help. It’s just as Bill said, no one would hear us.
Try and work your hands free.”

They all tried but to little purpose. The ropes were firmly tied.
Strain as they did they could not loosen the fastenings, and at last
they had to stop, as the cords cut into their flesh.

“Well, they certainly got us into a trap!” exclaimed Jerry as, once
more, he tugged at his bonds.

Suddenly Bob uttered an exclamation.

“Are you hurt?” cried Ned.

“Something cut my wrist!”

“What is it?”

“A piece of glass, I think.”

“Glass! Good!” came from Jerry. “Can you get it in your hands?”

“I have it.”

“Roll over towards me, and bring it with you.”

Bob did so. He came close to where Jerry was still tugging away at the
ropes.

“How did you find it, Bob?”

“I was trying to get the knot loose and something sharp touched my
wrist. I felt around until I found the glass.”

“What’s your plan, Jerry?” sung out Ned.

“I’m going to get Bob to hold the glass and I’m going to saw through
the ropes on my hands. Then I’ll set you all free!”

“Can you do it?”

“I’m going to make a big try.”

Then in the darkness they began their efforts to escape. Bob stretched
out on his face, holding the jagged piece of glass from a broken bottle
between his bound hands. By careful feeling Jerry edged his way over
to him, until he could bring his wrists close to Bob’s. Then both boys
turned on their side, back to back, and Jerry began sawing at the cords
that bound him.

It was hard work, and more than once they had to stop because their
arms ached. Several times Jerry’s hands slipped and the glass cut him,
but he did not mind. Back and forth he drew the rope over the keen edge
until he could feel the strands giving way.

“It’s almost loose,” he said.

In another minute he gave a triumphant cry.

“I’m free!”

“Now to loosen us!” called Ned.

Jerry reached into his pocket for his knife. Luckily the men had not
searched them, or taken anything away from the boys. With his hands
free Jerry soon had the ropes from his legs. Then he cut the bonds of
Ned and Bob. Their limbs were stiff, from being tied so long, but
vigorous rubbing soon restored the circulation.

“Now to escape!” exclaimed Jerry. “We must find a way out of this, and
stop the rascals from setting the false lights!”

They stumbled about in the darkness. The storehouse was filled with
boxes and barrels, over which they fell as they felt around, seeking
for some door or window. At last Ned cried out:

“Here’s a door!”

The other boys made their way toward the sound of his voice.

“It’s locked!” said Jerry, as he pushed against the portal.

“Can’t we batter it down with a box or a barrel!” Bob said.

They searched around in the gloom for something to use, but could find
nothing. Everything was too heavy.

“Maybe we can cut around the lock with our knives,” suggested Ned.

In the darkness and silence they toiled. They could hear nothing from
the men they knew must be in the lighthouse, working to cause the
destruction of the steamer. They felt as if they were imprisoned in a
vault.

“I wonder if we can get out and be in time?” said Ned. “It must be
quite late.”

“Don’t talk! Work!” came from Jerry.

They redoubled their efforts to cut around the lock. But the door to
the storeroom was thick and strong, and the lock was a heavy one.

“It’s no use,” declared Bob after an hour’s hacking away at the tough
wood. “We’ll have to stay here until they let us out.”

“Don’t give up,” Ned spoke.

“Hark! What’s that?” asked Jerry.

The others listened.

“They’ve started the machinery!” cried Bob. “The lenses are turning.”

“Yes, and they are the wrong ones! They will get the ship on the
rocks!” cried Jerry. “We must escape!”

Terror struck to the boys’ hearts. They had tried every means and
failed. The plotters had outwitted them. They could do nothing. They
beat upon the door with their fists as though by their feeble efforts
they could break it down.

Ned stumbled aimlessly in the darkness, seeking for something with
which to batter down the door. As he passed by a pile of boxes and
barrels he uttered a cry.

“Have you found anything?” asked Jerry.

“Something, yes! A window in the wall! An open window!”

Bob and Jerry hurried to where they heard Ned’s voice. As they did so
he had climbed up on a box. He pressed his face close against the wall.
A cool wind fanned his cheek.

“There is an opening!” he exclaimed. “But it is too small for us to get
out of. It’s only a ventilating window. But wait! Someone is coming!”

The boys almost held their breaths. Then Ned called in a loud whisper:

“Jess! Jess! Here we are! Let us out! Some bad men are in charge of the
place and are going to change the lights! They are going to wreck a
steamer!”




CHAPTER XXVIII

JESS TO THE RESCUE


“Who are you talking to?” asked Jerry.

“Jess, of course,” replied Ned, greatly excited. “She’s outside. Jess!
Jess!” he called again. “We are locked in the storeroom!”

The boys waited anxiously. Then, from without, came a whisper that
sounded loudly through the darkened room.

“What has happened? Where is my uncle? Who are you?”

“It’s me; Ned,” was the reply, whispered from the prison. “They
captured us! Have you a key? Can you let us out? How did you get away
from Noddy?”

“Oh, this is terrible!” cried Jess. “How did it happen?”

She was standing under the small slit in the masonry that served to let
air into the storeroom. The light from a lamp in the kitchen of the
place streamed out from a window full on her, so Ned could see the girl
plainly, though of course she could not see him.

“Why you are all wet!” cried Ned. “Did you fall in the water?”

“No, I jumped,” came the tense whisper. “What shall I do to let you
out?”

“Can you get the key to this place?” asked Ned. “If you can, sneak into
the house, and open the door, let us out and we’ll call help, and try
to prevent the men from changing the light.”

“Where is my uncle?”

“He was called away, by a false telephone message, we believe, to see
his sick sister! The men put up a game to get him away! Quick Jess, or
it will be too late!”

Ned saw the girl step back out of the path of illumination and gaze
upward. As she did so she uttered a half suppressed scream.

“They are changing the light!” she uttered in a shrill whisper. “And
there’s a storm about to break! What shall I do?”

As she spoke there came a low rumble of thunder off to the west and a
flash of lightning.

“Let us out if possible!” whispered Ned. “They are so busy with the
light they may not notice you. Get the keys and let us out!”

“I will! I will!” exclaimed Jess. “If I can only succeed!”

Ned saw her dart around the corner of the house. Then she was out of
his line of vision. They could only wait developments now.

“Do you think she can do it?” asked Jerry.

“She will if it’s possible,” replied Ned. “Only there is not much time.
My! But it’s going to storm fierce!”

A loud crash of thunder sounded, making the stout lighthouse vibrate.
The flashes of lightning showed through the ventilating window,
illuminating the small apartment with a weird glow. The wind was
howling about the place.

“There’ll be a heavy sea on,” said Jerry. “The ship will get upon the
rocks and go to pieces. Then these scoundrels will go out and pick up
the cargo.”

“There may be many lives lost,” exclaimed Bob. “The life saving station
is short-handed. They all are in the summer time.”

“If Jess can only get the keys!” Ned murmured.

It seemed like an hour before there sounded a tapping on the storeroom
door. Ned sprang to answer it.

“Are you still there, boys?” they heard Jess ask.

“Yes! Yes!” whispered Jerry. “Have you the keys?”

“No, the men must have taken them.”

“Then get an axe and see if you can’t break the lock.”

“It is too strong. Besides they might hear the blows.”

“Where are the men?”

“In the lantern tower,” the girl replied. “Wait a minute, let me think
of a plan.”

Outside the storm was raging. Locked in the storeroom the boys felt
like beating at the door with their fists to break it down, so they
might get out, change the light, and save the steamer.

“I have it!” Jess whispered through the big keyhole. “I will burn the
lock out.”

“How?” asked Ned.

“With a hot poker. I’ll heat it in the kitchen stove. I’ll burn a lot
of little holes all around the lock, and then I can knock the piece of
door out! The men can’t hear that!”

“Good!” cried Ned. “Hurry Jess!”

They could hear the girl moving about the kitchen. The rattle of iron
on iron came to their ears. Presently there was the smell of burning
wood. It grew stronger. Then a dull red point pierced the door, and
came through into the storeroom.

“That’s the first hole!” whispered Jess. “I’ll burn them as fast as I
can.”

To the boys it seemed as if there was half an hour between each
reappearance of the glowing point of the poker, but it was only a few
minutes. There were seven holes burned, when they heard Jess hurry away.

Then resounded the tramp of feet in the lower part of the lighthouse. A
few seconds later the boys heard voices.

“Is it working all right?” a man asked.

“You bet,” was the reply. “Now you and Bill had better put off in the
sloop. She’ll strike pretty soon, and you may pick up passengers with a
lot of valuables.”

“It’s blowing pretty hard to go out in the sloop,” one of the crowd
objected.

“Oh, don’t get chicken-hearted,” was the sneering response. “You and
Bill have got to go. Me and Jim will stay here and work the light. We
can tell when the rockets go up that she’s struck, and then we’ll skip.
We’ll meet at the cove.”

The voices died away, as though the men had left. The sound of the
storm increased. Anxiously the boys waited for Jess to come back. It
was several minutes before she did so. Then she whispered through the
keyhole:

“I had to run and hide when I heard the men coming from the tower. Two
of them have gone out, and the others have gone back to the light. We
must hurry!”

Once more came the smell of burning wood, and once more the dull red
point of the poker began to show. But it was slow work, for the door
was thick, and of hard material. Then too, the poker would get cool
carrying it from the stove to the portal.

But Jess worked like an Amazon. Back and forth she went with the hot
iron, burning herself several times when it slipped. But she gave small
heed to this. She wanted to save the ship and the honor of her uncle,
who might be blamed for losing control of the lighthouse.

Hole after hole was burned. Now Ned began trying to knock out the piece
of door containing the lock. He found a small stone and hammered on the
weakened wood. But it was still too strong for the feeble instrument he
had.

“Ten more holes and I think it will come out,” the girl whispered.

Out on the deep, struggling through the storm which had suddenly
broken, was a large steamer, laden with a rich cargo. There were not
many passengers, as it was from a South American port, but these few,
as well as the crew, had no warning of the danger that threatened them.

In the bow stood the lookout, scanning the expanse of angry water for
a sight of lighthouses and headlands that would indicate the channel
up the dangerous coast. Suddenly off to his left there shot out two
brilliant red flashes.

“North light two points off the port bow!” he called to the pilot.

“Lookout?” called the pilot.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Are you sure that’s the North light?”

“Aye, aye, sir. The south light shows a white flash and two red ones.
These were only two red. There they are again, sir.”

“Yes, I see them,” as once more the false lights flashed across the
sea. “We must have passed the South light while the weather was
thicker. I’ll have to put her in a bit.”

Then the pilot, deceived by the light, steered the vessel over toward
the ledge of dangerous rocks, instead of keeping out, as he would have
done, had the two red flashes been preceded by a white one.

But in the lighthouse three brave boys and as brave a girl, were
striving to aid the ill-fated steamer. Would they be in time?

Jess made hole after hole, though her arms ached, her eyes smarted with
the smoke, and her hands were burned in a number of places.

Again and again Ned beat with his stone on the wood around the lock.
The circle of holes was complete at last.

“It’s giving away! It’s loosening!” cried the boy. He struck with all
his force. The stone flew from his hand, and fell through the opening
that suddenly appeared. The lock had been burned away, and the heavy
door swung inward. The boys were free.

“Now to change the lights!” cried Jerry, as, followed by his chums he
dashed toward the winding stairs that led to where the big lantern
lenses revolved.

At that instant the door of the kitchen flew open and Mr. Hardack
entered, wild and disheveled, dripping water from the storm which was
now raging at its height.




CHAPTER XXIX

THE RIGHT LIGHTS


“What has happened!” cried the keeper. “The light is flashing wrong!
There is a steamer outside the bar! It will be wrecked! Who did it?
Where is my assistant? There’s been foul work here! I was waylaid on my
way back when I found my sister was not ill. I just managed to get away
from the men. Speak, some of you! Quick!”

The keeper was panting from his exertions and from the excitement. His
face was drawn and pale, and his eyes were wild, while his hair, matted
by the rain, for he had lost his hat, straggled about his forehead.

“The scoundrels are in possession of the tower!” cried Jerry. “We must
attack them and set the right light!”

“Come on!” cried the keeper, seizing the poker Jess had used to burn
the door. “Come on! I’ll give ’em battle!”

His eyes glared, in the fierceness of his righteous anger, at those
who would do so dastardly a deed.

“Come on!” cried Ned, seizing a heavy billet of wood.

“I’ll call the police on the telephone!” exclaimed Bob, springing for
the instrument. “We’ll need help!”

“I’ll not wait for the police!” fairly shouted the keeper. “I’ll tackle
’em single handed if need be!”

Bob rang up central, and, not waiting to be connected with the distant
police station, told the operator what the trouble was, imploring that
aid be sent promptly. Then he ran to join his companions. Jess was
crying in one corner of the room.

Mr. Hardack led the way to the stairs which extended up inside the
tower to the lantern. He fairly ran up the stone steps, followed by the
boys. He was shouting challenges to the men as he ran.

“Let me get at you!” he yelled. “I’ll show you how an old man can
fight!”

Suddenly from above them a door slammed shut. There was the clicking of
a lock. Then, as they came to the heavy portal, which gave access to
the room where the lantern was, a voice cried:

“You’re too late this time, old man!”

Too late! The men had shut themselves up in the top of the tower, and
could control the working of the light to suit their evil purposes. The
keeper could not get in.

Mr. Hardack beat upon the door with the poker. Ned hammered it with the
block of wood.

“Let me in!” cried the aged man. “Let me in! Do you want to send the
ship to the bottom?”

“That’s just what we do!” was the mocking response.

“Get an axe and chop the door down!” cried Jerry.

“It would take too long,” replied the keeper, in a strangely calm
voice. “It is bound with iron, and is double thick. There is no help
for it. The steamer will be lost!”

Footsteps were heard coming up the stairs.

“Maybe help is at hand,” said the keeper hopefully.

Then Jess came into view. In her hand she held something which she
extended to Mr. Hardack.

“Here is your old horse pistol, uncle!” she exclaimed. “It is loaded
with a heavy charge. Fire it through the lock and shatter it! I heard
you pounding on the door and knew they had locked it!”

“Hurrah for you, Jess!” called Ned, and the girl blushed through her
tears.

Mr. Hardack placed the muzzle of the ancient weapon against the big
keyhole. He hesitated a moment, listening to the roar of the storm
without, and the steady whirr of the machinery in the tower, as it
revolved the false lenses.

_Bang!_

It sounded as though a cannon had been fired, so loudly did the report
of the pistol echo in the narrow tower. There was a splitting and
rending of wood, a snap as of broken springs and a clatter as pieces of
the lock fell on the stone steps.

“Come on, boys!” cried the old man, as he threw all his weight against
the door. The shattered lock gave, and they rushed through the smoke on
up the steps.

“Go back! Go back!” cried two men standing on the top landing. Behind
them glowed the big light. It almost blinded the boys. They hesitated a
second or two.

“Scoundrels!” cried the keeper.

He raised the poker threateningly and leaped forward.

“Come on! All together!” yelled Ned. “We can handle ’em! Come on, Jerry
and Bob!”

Forward they went, the boys and the aged keeper, straight at the two
men. The fellows held big wrenches in their hands. Jerry saw one aim
a blow at Mr. Hardack. It struck the old man on the side of the head,
but, though he staggered, he did not fall. Then he raised his poker and
brought it down on the arm of the man who had hit him. The wrecker gave
a cry and the wrench fell from his nerveless fingers.

Ned sprang at the assailant of the keeper. The fellow stepped back. He
had lost the use of one arm from the blow of the poker. Ned grabbed his
other hand and bore him to the stone floor. There was a hard struggle,
but Ned held on. Mr. Hardack, recovering from the blow on his head,
came to the boy’s aid.

In the meanwhile Jerry and Bob had attacked the other man. He kept
them at bay for a little while by waving the big wrench back and forth
in front of him. The boys tried to dodge in but could not. Then Jerry
suddenly fell to the floor. Before the man knew what was up the boy had
reached forward, under the swinging tool, and grabbed the man by the
legs. He gave a strong yank, and the wrecker went down in a heap. Bob
threw himself on top of him.

For several seconds there was a hard struggle. Both scoundrels tried
to break away, but the boys and the keeper were too much for them. At
last they were quiet.

“The light! The light!” cried Mr. Hardack. “We must set the right
light!”

“I’ll do it, uncle!” exclaimed Jess, running into the room. She had
been hiding on the stairs, waiting the outcome of the struggle. “I’ll
set the right light!”

She leaped over the prostrate body of the man her uncle and Ned were
holding down. Into the lantern room she went.

It was the work of but an instant to rip from the big white lens, the
black piece of paper the men had pasted over it to conceal the flashes.
She threw it on the floor.

Then out through the storm, over the tempestuous sea, there flashed the
right signal,--a white glow, followed by two red ones.

“Oh, that it may be in time to save the ship!” the girl prayed.

Out on the deep the big steamer pitched and tossed in the grip of the
waves. The lookout was scanning the blackness for the sight of the next
lighthouse. Suddenly there flashed across his eyes a white shaft of
illumination, followed by two red ones. The pilot saw them at the same
time.

“Something’s wrong!” the steersman exclaimed. “There is the South light
now! We have been standing in! We are almost on the rocks! Some one
changed the lights!”

There were frantic signals to the engine room. The pilot spun the steam
steering gear around so fast he almost broke the rudder chains. Slowly
the great steamer changed her course and stood out to sea.

Yet so near had she been to the rocks and sand bars that five minutes
more and she would have been lost. The passengers asleep in their
staterooms never knew how close they were to death.

Back in the lighthouse there were anxious hearts, hearts that beat high
lest soon might be heard the booming guns of a ship in distress, or
soon might be seen the flaring rockets that told a steamer had gone on
the rocks.

Suddenly from below, at the foot of the tower, above the roar of the
storm, a voice called:

“What’s wrong here? Where are you, Hardack? What’s the matter with the
light?”

“It’s Salt Water Sam!” shouted Jerry. “Help Sam! Come up and bring
ropes with you!”

There was the welcome sound of feet ascending the stone stairway. Into
the room came the old sailor and Captain Jenkinson. They took in the
situation at a glance. In a few minutes the two scoundrels had been
securely tied.

“Is the light all right?” was Sam’s first question, for he knew what
that meant on such a night.

“Thanks to Jess, it is,” replied Ned, and the girl ran away to escape
the admiring eyes.

“How did you get here?” asked Jerry of Sam.

“Why some of us happened to be out fishing just before the storm broke,
and we noticed the light wasn’t flashing right. I hurried ashore and
met Captain Jenkinson. He had noticed the same thing, so we decided
to investigate. We came over in his boat, the _Three Bells_. What has
happened here?”




CHAPTER XXX

JESSICA’S FATHER--CONCLUSION


“The scoundrels tried to change the light and wreck a steamer coming up
the coast,” replied Mr. Hardack. “If it hadn’t been for the boys here
they would have succeeded.”

“If it hadn’t been for Jess we could have done nothing,” put in Jerry.
“They had us locked up.”

“Let’s have the whole yarn,” suggested Sam.

Ned related what he had heard of the plot that night he had hidden in
the _Dartaway_, and told how he and the boys on reaching the lighthouse
had been left in charge with the new assistant while Mr. Hardack went
to see his sick sister.

“And that message was all a fake,” said the keeper. “My sister wasn’t
sick at all. I couldn’t find out who sent it, but I thought something
was wrong, and I hurried back. On the way I was stopped by two men who
wanted to pick a quarrel with me. They tried to take me off to a lonely
hut, but I broke away and came on through the storm. You can imagine
my feelings when I got here and saw the light flashing wrong.”

Then the boys told the rest of the tale, including the successful
efforts of Jess to burn the lock from the door.

“But we haven’t heard how she happened to arrive at just the right
time,” said Bob. “Call her.”

The girl came into the kitchen where they all were, the two prisoners
having been placed in the storeroom.

“What happened to you, Jess?” asked her uncle.

“I jumped overboard and swam ashore,” said the girl.

“You jumped overboard?”

“Yes, that Nixon fellow took me for a ride in his boat. Then the engine
got out of order, or he pretended it did, and we couldn’t get back. I
wanted him to signal to some other boat but he wouldn’t. Then I got
mad. He kept me out there quite a way from shore, saying all the while
the engine would soon be fixed. But when I saw him taking some screws
out I knew he wasn’t trying to fix the machinery, but was playing a
trick to detain me. Then I jumped into the water and swam. I didn’t
have much trouble. I’m a good swimmer, and it wasn’t so very far.”

“You’re a brave girl!” exclaimed Sam warmly, and Jess tried to run away
again, but they would not let her.

The police whom Bob had telephoned for soon arrived, and took charge of
the two men. They were eventually sent to prison for long terms.

Search was made for the others of the gang, but they, including Bill
Berry, had escaped in the sloop. As for Noddy Nixon, he left the summer
resort that night, disappearing soon after he brought in his boat
from which Jess had escaped. At the hut near the cove, later, among
Bill’s belongings, was found the diamond ring and the case of specimen
mosquitoes stolen from Uriah Snodgrass.

“Well, this will delight the professor!” cried Jerry, when he heard of
the find. “I’ll wager he’ll think more of the mosquitoes than of the
diamond ring.” It may be added that the professor was delighted over
the recovery of his property and when he heard of what the boys had
accomplished he praised them highly.

It was learned afterward that Noddy had no idea of the serious plot the
men had planned. Bill Berry had enlisted the youth’s aid in getting
Jess out of the way, on the pretense that only a harmless trick was to
be played on the keeper. Noddy’s previous acquaintance with the girl
made this easy. But Noddy, after Jess left him so suddenly, thought it
best to make himself scarce. Bill, it seems, had written to him early
in the season to come to the summer resort near the lighthouse.

It was the next afternoon when the boys were again on a visit to the
lighthouse that they learned how near the steamer had been to the
dangerous rocks. Some men of the life saving station had seen her
approach, and then veer out again suddenly as the light was changed.

“I declare I don’t know how to thank you boys,” said Mr. Hardack. “You
certainly are wonders.”

“Jess had us all beaten,” spoke Ned, wondering where she was.

“Oh, yes, poor Jessica. I wish I could help her out of her trouble as
she and you helped me.”

“What trouble?” asked Ned.

“Didn’t I ever tell you? I started to several times, but it must have
slipped my mind. Her father has been missing for several months, and
I’ve not been able to locate him. He’s my only brother, quite an old
man, with white hair, whiter than mine.”

The boys looked at each other. They all had the same thought,--of the
man in the railroad wreck.

“He was a miner out west,” Mr. Hardack went on. “He went there several
years ago and left his daughter with me, because it was a wild country
he was in. I got word a few months ago that he had started east, having
made quite some money. He was to come here but he never arrived. We’ve
been waiting for him since, and Jess is quite worried. I wrote to the
persons who used to know him, but they said he had left the mining
camp, and they did not know where he was. I wish I could locate him.”

Ned felt a lump coming up in his throat. The other lads seemed
strangely affected. It was Jerry who spoke first.

“Mr. Hardack,” he said. “I don’t want to raise any false hopes, but I
think we can put you on the track of Jessica’s father.”

“Where is he? Tell me! Oh, I must go to him if he is in trouble!”

“If he is the man I think him to be, he is in the hospital at
Cresville. We saved a man from a railroad wreck, who, in his delirium,
murmured something about ‘Jess’ and the ‘great light.’ I think he
must have meant your niece, and the ‘great light’ referred to the
lighthouse.”

“Oh, I only hope so!” exclaimed Mr. Hardack. “The loss of her father
has almost broken Jessica’s heart. She is in mourning for her dead
mother. How can we find out if the man of the wreck is my brother?”

“I can telephone to Dr. Bounce,” replied Jerry. “The man may have
recovered by now.”

It took some time to get the long-distance connection on the telephone
from the lighthouse to Dr. Bounce. While it was being made Jess came
into the room.

“Jess--dear--Jessica,” stammered her uncle. “Would you mind getting
dinner?” She left the room, a little surprised at the serious looks on
the faces of the boys and her uncle. “I didn’t want her to hear until
we know if it’s true,” said the uncle in a whisper.

At last Jerry was able to converse with Dr. Bounce. The boy’s voice
trembled as he inquired about the man of the wreck. The others could
only hear one side of the conversation, but they guessed the rest.

“You say he’s getting better, doctor? That’s good. Has he been able to
give his name? He has? What is it? Tell me quick! A lot depends on it!
Pack? Oh! Hardack! Are you sure? Walter Hardack!”

“It’s him! It’s him! That’s my brother’s name!” exclaimed the keeper,
jumping up and down in his excitement. “Oh! Jess! Your father’s found!
The boys did it! Oh! Jess! Praise the good Lord!”

Jess came running into the room, wondering what was up. She looked at
her uncle. There were tears in the old man’s eyes.

“Your father’s found! Your father’s found!” was all he could say, as he
hugged the now weeping girl to him.

“Come on,” said Ned softly. “We can return later.” And the chums
withdrew.

Mr. Hardack soon called them back, and made them tell every detail of
the wreck. They surmised that Jessica’s father had been on his way to
the lighthouse when he was injured. His appeal to the boys to find his
daughter had been no more than the raving of delirium, caused by the
injury to his head, but it had worked itself out in an unexpected way.

The next day, with Ned as her guide, Jess started for Cresville,
and a few hours later was clasped in her father’s arms. He had come
successfully through a serious operation and was now on the road to
recovery.

“Well,” remarked Jerry to Bob, when Ned had gone away, “we certainly
had plenty of excitement the last few days. Ned is right in it to the
last. Guess Jessica likes him. Well, she’s a mighty nice girl.”

“Right you are,” replied Bob. “Say, it wasn’t any mistake to come here
for a vacation. I hope we will have as much fun next year.”

“I hope so,” Jerry added. “I wonder if Ned will come back for the rest
of the season?”

“Bet he’ll stay in Cresville now that Jess is there.”

“Well the summer is almost over,” said Bob a little sorrowfully. “Of
course we can’t expect to foil a gang of wreckers again, but I hope
there’ll be something just as lively.”

There was, and the boys had what they considered even better fun than
centred around the lighthouse. Their further doings will be told of in
the next volume, to be called, “The Motor Boys in Strange Waters; or,
Lost in a Floating Forest.”

“Come on,” said Bob, after a pause. “Let’s go out in the boat for a
spin. It’s a fine day.”

“A little lonesome without Ned, though.”

“Well, we’ll see him again, soon.”

They went down to the dock, where they found Salt Water Sam gazing
contemplatively into the water. He was softly singing to himself:

    “The Mary Jane, she was a ship
       As fine as one could wish.
     I used to sail the seas in her,
       And sometimes I would fish.
     One day when I was sailing
       I chanced to catch a shark.
     I put him on exhibit
       In a little seaside park!”

“Well, well, boys, I didn’t hear you coming,” the sailor went on. “I
was just thinking of the fun we had.”

“Come on for a sail,” invited Jerry.

Then the two boys and the old man got into the _Dartaway_ and put off
toward the mouth of the harbor. And here, for a while, we will take
leave of them.


THE END




THE MOTOR BOYS SERIES

By _Clarence Young_


[Illustration]

_12mo. illustrated_

_Price per volume, 50 cents._

_Postage, extra, 10 cents._

_Bright up-to-date stories, full of information as well as of
adventure. Read the first volume and you will want all the others
written by Mr. Young._

  1. THE MOTOR BOYS
     _or Chums through Thick and Thin_

  2. THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND
     _or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune_

  3. THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO
     _or The Secret of the Buried City_

  4. THE MOTOR BOYS ACROSS THE PLAINS
     _or The Hermit of Lost Lake_

  5. THE MOTOR BOYS AFLOAT
     _or The Cruise of the Dartaway_

  6. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE ATLANTIC
     _or The Mystery of the Lighthouse_

  7. THE MOTOR BOYS IN STRANGE WATERS
     _or Lost in a Floating Forest_

  8. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE PACIFIC
     _or The Young Derelict Hunters_

  9. THE MOTOR BOYS IN THE CLOUDS
     _or A Trip for Fame and Fortune_

 10. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE ROCKIES
     _or A Mystery of the Air_

 11. THE MOTOR BOYS OVER THE OCEAN
     _or A Marvelous Rescue in Mid-Air_

 12. THE MOTOR BOYS ON THE WING
     _or Seeking the Airship Treasure_

  CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY, Publishers      New York




 Transcriber’s Notes:

 --Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
   bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).

 --Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently
   corrected.

 --Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

 --Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Motor Boys on the Atlantic, by Clarence Young