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CHAPTER XI
A Missing Motor Boat

Swinging into the broad expanse of Sheepscot Bay, the Deerfoot moved smoothly up the river which bears the same name. Captain Landon held her to the moderate speed of fifteen miles or so an hour. There was no call for haste and he was wise not to strain the engine unnecessarily. To increase the rate would be imitating the man who drives his automobile at the highest clip, when he has to concentrate his attention upon the machine, with no appreciation of the beauties of the country through which he is plunging, and continually threatened by fatal accidents.

Alvin held the wheel, while Chester and Mike, seated behind him, kept intelligent trace of their progress by means of the fine map of the United States Geological Survey. The first point identified was Lower Mark Island on the right and close to Southport, then came Cat Ledges, Jold, Cedarbrush, the Hendrick Light, on the same side, while across loomed the pretty station known as Five Islands, one of the regular stopping places of the steamers going north or south. Omitting the smaller places, the next point which interested our friends was the Isle of Springs, one of the best known summer resorts in Sheepscot River. The landing was crowded with passengers, waiting for the steamer Gardiner from Augusta, the capital of the State, and on its way to rush through the strait north of Southport to its destination, Ocean Point beyond Squirrel Island.

The peculiarity about this plucky little steamer is that no craft that ever plowed through those waters is so dependable. Again and again she has made the long trip and not been out a single minute at any of the numerous landings. She has been called the "Pony of the Kennebec," and nothing less than an explosion of her boiler or a collision with another craft would make her tardy anywhere.

"There are many persons along the river and on the islands who set their watches and clocks by the Gardiner," said Alvin, speaking over his shoulder.

He glanced at his watch.

"I don't know when she is due at the Isle of Springs, but as I figure it she ought to be in sight now."

"And, begorrah! there she comes!" exclaimed Mike, pointing to the left toward Goose Rock Passage, leading from Knubble Bay to Sheepscot. The foaming billows tumbled away from the prow, as the boat drove resistlessly forward, and the whistle sounded for the landing. Many a time when rounding Capitol Island to the northwest of Squirrel, with a storm raging, the spray and water have been flung clean over the pilot house and slid over the upper deck and streamed away off the stern.

Chester Haynes saluted with the whistle, but the captain of the Gardiner gave no heed. His eye was upon the landing toward which he was steaming. When the freight had been tumbled ashore and the waiting cargo taken aboard, the gang planks were drawn in, lines cast off, and though a dozen passengers might be pointing toward the pier, shouting and waving hats or umbrellas, all would be left.

The resinous pine trees formerly including firs, larches and true cedars so thick that no spaces showed between, grew all the way down the rocky hills to the water's edge. The river, without a ripple except such as was made by passing craft, was as crystalline as a mountain spring. Here and there a rude drawing was scratched in the face of the cliffs, the work of the Indians who lived in that part of Maine before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. It was one continuous dream which never loses its charm for those who make the trip, no matter how often.

The sky remained overcast, though no rain fell, when the Deerfoot drove through the Eddy, where the current narrows and is very swift and deep. A bridge connects the mainland with Davis Island. The launch sat so low that there was no call to the bridge tender to open the draw. As it shot under, the peaks of the flagstaffs showed a foot below the planking.

They were now approaching the pretty town of Wiscasset, from which came the faint thrill of a locomotive whistle, as notice that at that point a traveler could change from boats to cars. The launch was sweeping round a bend in the river when Mike pointed to the right with the question:

"Phwat's that?"

"It is the famous blockhouse, built in 1807 for the protection of Wiscasset, four miles away, but it was never used because the town was never in danger."

The interesting structure, which you may have seen when gliding past in a boat, is octagonal in form, with one window on each face of the lower story, except on the one containing a narrow door approached by a single step of wood. As was the fashion in building blockhouses, the second story overhangs the first and on each face of this upper story is a square window with a long loop-hole placed horizontally on either side. The flat roof is surmounted by a slender cupola, also octagonal, with a window occupying nearly all the space of each face. The whole building is covered with shingles and for a long time after its erection it was surrounded by an elaborate system of earthworks.

The Deerfoot slackened its speed as it came opposite. Mike Murphy showed special interest in the old faded building.

"It suggists the palace of me grandfather, the Duke De Sassy," said he. "If ye have no great objiction, Captain, I should be glad of a closer look at it."

Since the day was at their disposal, the youthful captain was quite willing to halt and inspect the historic structure. He turned the bow toward the bank, and stopped in deep water a few feet from land. Mike cleared the intervening distance in an easy jump, taking the end of the bow line which he made fast to a convenient tree. Chester at the same time had cast out the anchor from the stern and made fast the cable to a cleat on the after or stern deck. The launch was thus held immovable and safe from injury. In the meanwhile, Alvin had employed himself in shutting down the motor, turning off the gasoline and air tank valves and making ready to leave the launch in its usual good order.

Mike said:

"I have a brilliant suggistion to make to ye, as me uncle said when he arranged to foight six men, by taking on one each day instead of engaging them all at once. The same is that we indoolge in our noon repast on shore."

The plans of the lads when they left home was to have dinner at the hotel in Wiscasset, but they had been so delayed by their leisurely ascent of the river that the meridian was past. A supply of sandwiches, ginger ale and sarsaparilla was laid in so as to be prepared for contingencies, and it need not be said that all had keen appetites. Chester remarked that it was only a brief run to the little town ahead. Moreover, it was more convenient to eat on the launch, where they could spread the food on one of the seats or the cover of the cockpit. But every boy would rather chew a venison or bear steak, though tough as leather, in preference to a tender, juicy bit of beef, and eating in the woods is tenfold more enticing than in a house or on a boat. Besides, they had been sitting so long that the change would be a relief. Accordingly, Chester and Mike gathered up the big paper bags which held the lunch, and the bottles of soft stuff, and leaped lightly ashore.

The little party walked the short distance to the primitive blockhouse, and passing a little way beyond sat down on the pine burrs and grass and tackled the food. The clear air, the odorous breath of the forest, and the soft ripple of the stream flowing past, gave the repast a charm beyond that which the Waldorf-Astoria can impart to its guests.

"It makes me sigh," said Mike when the last morsel of food had disappeared and he drew the napkin across his lips, "to think that only a few waaks are lift to us of this bliss of life."

"Yes," replied Captain Alvin; "the days fly fast; soon I shall have to go back to school and study so hard there will be mighty little time left for play."

"The same here," added Chester in a lugubrious voice. "I don't suppose there would be half as much fun in this sport if we took it straight along."

"I'm willing to try the same for tin or twinty years; it's mesilf that doesn't belave I'd grow weary in less time than thot. Couldn't ye persuade your dad, you j'ining company wid him, Chister, to give the thing a thrial for that long?"

Alvin shook his head.

"Suppose our parents should be so foolish, do you think your father and mother would allow you to squander your time like that?"

Mike removed his cap and scratched his head.

"I'm afeard there'd be objiction from that side of the house. Ye see that twinty years from now dad, if he's alive, which God grant, will be an old man; thrue I'd be in me prime, and if he was too overbearing wid me, I could lay him over me knee and spank him, but I'd sorter hate to do that, bekase of the kindness he had shown me in days gone by. Besides," added Mike, with a big wink, "me mither would be sure to take dad's part, and I'm convinced that twinty years from now she'll be bigger and stronger than to-day. With the two united in battle array agin me, I'd hev no ch'ice but to take to the woods. Yes; we'll have to give up the idea which sthruck me so favorable at first. What do ye intind to do with the Deerfoot, Captain, when the summer is gone?"

"Draw her out on land and cover her with canvas for the winter, so as to keep her in condition for a bigger outing next year."

"That maans, I 'spose, ye'll carry her in the house and put her to bed and kiver her up the same as a sick baby?"

"Hardly that, but she will need and will receive the best of care – hark!"

The three were silent for a minute. Faintly but distinctly all caught the distant whirr from the exhaust of a speed launch. They quickly noted that the sound grew less audible – proof that the launch was speeding away from them.

At first it seemed to be in the direction of Wiscasset, but when they were barely able to hear the noise, they agreed that it was from down the river. Inasmuch as they had not met any boat on their way to this point, they were puzzled to understand how the craft could have passed them without being seen. The only explanation was that it had come nearly to the blockhouse from below, and then owing to some cause had turned about and gone back.

"That's queer," remarked Alvin, as a sudden suspicion flashed over him. He sprang to his feet and ran round the building, the others at his heels, for the same dread was with them. In a moment Alvin halted with the exclamation:

"Some one has run off with our launch!"

Such was the fact.

CHAPTER XII
In the Telegraph Office

"Maybe it slipped free and floated off," said Chester, who did not pause until he reached the water's edge.

"Mebbe she climbed out of the river and wint round t'other side of the blockhouse," suggested Mike, who regretted the next moment his ill-timed jest and joined Chester, with Alvin only a pace or two behind them.

There was a brief hope that Chester was right and that the motor boat had worked free and drifted down stream, but it was quickly evident that that was impossible. The bow line and anchor would have held if not disturbed by some one.

Then, too, what meant the muffled exhaust heard a few minutes before? It could have been caused only by the starting of the motor. Alvin, who showed quicker wit than his companions, examined the ground at the water's edge. He quickly read the solution.

"There are the footprints of several people in the soft earth. All is as plain as day."

"All what?" asked Chester.

"The manner of the Deerfoot's going."

"Give us your explanation."

"While we sat behind the blockhouse eating lunch, two or three or perhaps more persons came out of the woods and walked to this spot; they cast off the bow line, sprang aboard; one of them drew the boat out over the stern anchor and tripped it; they did not start the engine till they had drifted round the bend below; then they headed for Sheepscot Bay and are well on their way there, running at full speed as they do not need to spare the launch."

"Bedad! I b'lave ye're right," said Mike, compressing his lips. "I'm off!"

"What do you mean?" asked the astonished Captain.

"I'm going to run a race wid the same to Cape Newagen!"

"Why, you have no more chance of overtaking the boat than you have of out-swimming the Mauretania."

But Mike made no reply. Spitting on his hands and rubbing them together, he broke into a lope and quickly passed from sight in the woods.

Despite the alarming situation, Alvin and Chester looked in each other's face and laughed.

"Did you ever know of anything so crazy?" asked the Captain.

"Never; the idea of putting his short legs against a boat that can run twenty odd miles an hour and has a good start, is worthy of Mike Murphy alone."

"But we must do something," said the puzzled Alvin; "some one has stolen the launch and should be headed off."

"How shall we do it?"

"The easiest way is to cross the long bridge to Wiscasset on the other side of the river and telegraph to different points down stream."

They were about to start when Alvin said:

"I ought not to have allowed Mike to go off as he did. He is so rash and headlong that he will be sure to run into trouble. If we go to Wiscasset, we shall be separated so long that we shall lose him altogether. If I had only put the switch plug in my pocket they could not have started the motor without a lot of time and trouble!"

"Why not follow him down stream?"

"That plan was in my mind. The boat hasn't had time to go far. Suppose we try Point Quarry. That is the lowest village of Edgecomb township, where Cross River turns off and runs into the Back River, which follows the course of the Sheepscot and joins it lower down. At Point Quarry the stream is so narrow that the Deerfoot is sure to be seen."

"Provided some one happens to be looking."

"Many of these small places have telegraph lines open in the summer, but are closed in winter. A road leads from Charmount to Point Quarry, which isn't more than four or five miles away. Less than half of that distance will take us to Charmount. Come on."

The boys lost no time. Both had studied their map so closely before leaving home and on their way up the Sheepscot that they had no fear of going astray. The surrounding country is sparsely settled, with prosperous farms here and there lining the highway. The walking was good and the sky had cleared within the last few hours. The lads were athletic, and were impelled by impatience and resentment toward whoever had taken such a liberty with another's property.

Two miles took them to a point where a branch road led off at right angles in the direction of the Sheepscot and consequently to the meager settlement of Charmount, below the eddy, where a wooden bridge joins the mainland to Davis Island. They met no vehicles or footmen, though they passed a number of tidy looking houses and saw men at work in the fields. Their destination was less than a mile off and they reached it in due time. They found a young woman in charge of the telegraph instrument, who in answer to their inquiry said she could send a message to Point Quarry, where the station would be closed in a few weeks.

The youths while on the road had formulated what to say by telegraph. Since they had no acquaintance at either place, Alvin addressed his inquiry to the operator, who happened also to be a young woman. This was the message:

"Will you be good enough to tell me, if you can, whether a motor boat has passed down the river within the last few minutes?"

In a brief while, an unexpectedly favorable reply was returned. It was addressed, however, to the young woman herself, who after writing it down rose to her feet and called to Alvin.

"Here is your answer. Miss Prentiss says that it isn't her business to keep watch of boats passing up and down stream, her salary being so big that she has no time to give attention to anything except the affairs of her office."

"I suppose that is meant as sarcasm," commented Alvin.

"It does sound like it, but she adds that the fisherman, Pete Davis, came into the office directly after your message reached her, and she asked him your question. He told her that such a boat as you speak of had gone past under full speed only a few minutes before and he read the name Deerfoot on her bow."

"That's it!" exclaimed Alvin. "Did the fisherman say anything more?"

"Probably he did, but Miss Prentiss hasn't reported it. Is there anything further I can do for you?"

"Nothing – thank you."

As he spoke, he passed a half dollar tip to her, whereupon she beamingly expressed her gratitude. In truth she was so pleased that she smiled more broadly than ever into the handsome face of the youth before her. Alvin suspected she was ready for a mild flirtation, but he was in no mood for such frivolity and was about to turn away, when Chester spoke in a low voice:

"She has something more to say to you."

"Well?" he remarked inquiringly, returning the sunny gaze of the young woman.

"Do you know anyone by the name of Mike Murphy?"

Alvin laughed.

"I rather think we do; he came up on the boat with us, and is rushing down the river in the hope of overtaking it."

"Well, he stopped in here and sent a telegram about it."

"Is it possible? Let me see it."

She shook her head.

"Not without an order from court; the rules do not permit anything of that kind."

"We won't tell anybody."

"I know you won't, for you will never have anything to tell."

She turned and looked down at the last sheet of yellow paper on her file. Then she grew red in the face and shook with mirth.

"To whom did Mike send his message?"

"I wish I dare tell you; it is the funniest thing that has ever happened in the office since I have been here. You couldn't guess in ten years."

"We have hardly that much time to spend in trying, so we shall have to give it up."

"When you see your friend say to him from me that his message was forwarded just as he directed."

"Where did he tell you to deliver the reply?"

"He said nothing of that. I have a suspicion that there won't be any reply to his telegram."

Alvin was turning away again, when the miss, leaning on her desk and tapping her pretty white teeth with the end of her lead pencil smilingly asked:

"Would you really like to see Mike Murphy's telegram?"

"It would be of great help to us in our search for the stolen boat," replied Alvin, stepping closer to her.

Chester remained standing by the outer door, with hands thrust in his pockets. He read the signs aright.

"She has taken a fancy to him," he reflected, "and as there doesn't happen to be much business on hand just now is disposed to flirt a little, but Alvin isn't."

"How much will you pay for a sight of the message?"

"Anything in reason."

"And you will never, never, never tell?"

"I give you my pledge that I will not whisper it to any person."

"How about your friend back there? He has a hangdog look which I don't like."

"I'll answer for him; there are worse fellows, though not many. Chester!" commanded Alvin, turning abruptly upon him, "get out of sight and wait for me."

"Yes, sir," meekly answered the youth, turning about and passing into the open air, where he added to himself, with a broader grin than before:

"He doesn't suspect she's kidding him, but that's what she's doing."

The young Captain beamed upon the miss.

"Now I'm ready to have a look at my friend's telegram."

"You haven't said how much you will pay," she replied, with a coquettish glance at the expectant youth.

"How much do you ask?"

"Is it worth five dollars?"

"That's a pretty big price, but I'll give it."

"It isn't enough."

"Name your charge then."

"Fifty thousand dollars; I can't do it for a cent less."

Alvin read the pert miss aright. He soberly reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet.

"I haven't that much with me; will you take my promissory note?"

"Nothing but cash goes here."

"Some other day – good day."

He lifted his cap and passed out doors to join his grinning friend. The two started off at a brisk pace and had not taken a dozen steps when they ran straight into trouble.