Those who could not sit in the auto had tostand, wedged in, as Warren, clearing a wayas fast as he could, got the various members ofthe party to the car. Then, with a toot of thehorn, the machine started.

“I want to get you all over to the hotel to seewhat is to be done in the way of prosecution,”the deputy explained to Mr. Dunstan. “Yourlawyer can help us, too, if he will.”

Horace Dunstan had as yet had time tohave but a very few words with his nowastonished son. As soon, however, as theparty got in a room by themselves Master Tedstepped quickly over to Halstead, holding outhis hand.

“I put up as good a fight against you as Icould, captain,” he said, “but now I want toapologize and thank you.”

“I knew that time would come,” Halsteadlaughed, as he took the younger boy’s hand.

“Now we want to understand a few things,”broke in Lawyer Crane. “Master Theodore, you have told us that you went away withstrangers in obedience to what you consideredwritten instructions from your father. Whohanded you that note?”

“Gambon, dad’s gardener.”

“What did the note say?”

“The note said my inheritance was in greatdanger, and the two boys dad had hired to runthe ‘Meteor’ were in the plot against me. I wastold to go to the men to whom Gambon wouldtake me and to follow their instructions in everythingfor a few days.”

“And you believed all that?” demanded thelawyer.

“Yes. Why not?” challenged Master Ted.“I thought the note was in dad’s own writingand he had always told me the truth abouteverything.”

“Did those men treat you roughly?” inquiredthe lawyer.

“Never a bit of it,” replied young Dunstan.“I thought I was having the best time of mylife. It was such fun to be in the woods, hidingfrom the plotters, as they told me, and thenscooting about from place to place to get rid ofour enemies, as I also thought. And we had alot of fine fishing. Oh, it was all a great goodtime – until Tom Halstead pounced upon me andbore me away.”

“Where is that scoundrel, Gambon, now?”asked Lawyer Crane, looking around at theothers.

“He ought to be out at the Sanderson farm ornear there,” replied Joe. “I trailed him thereand it was just after Gambon had slipped upto the farmhouse that I ran against Tom in thedark.”

“We want that fellow, Gambon,” shouted Mr.Dunstan angrily. “I’ll pay a good reward tohave him caught and jailed.”

“Remember, we have only your son’s evidencethat Gambon handed him the note,” repliedMr. Crane. “There is no other witnesson the point, and – ”

Rap, rap, rap! sounded a brisk summons onthe door. Warren admitted three men, one ofwhom he seemed to know.

“These gentlemen are United States officers,”the deputy stated, coming back with the visitors, after a few words exchanged in a low tone.“Mr. Dunstan, this is Mr. Lawrence. TheGovernment turned over to him the letter yousent about Alvarez and that fellow’s filibusteringwork.”

“I thought the Government intended to payno attention to my letter,” said Mr. Dunstan.

“At first our department couldn’t take up thematter,” replied Mr. Lawrence. “All our menwere busy. But Mr. Joyce,” turning to indicateone of his companions, “has been here on theisland since yesterday morning. His news, however, leads us to believe that the filibusters willnot attempt to get away from here with theirunlawful cargo for a few days yet.”

“Then perhaps Mr. Joyce does not know,”put in Tom, “that Alvarez and Sanderson havebeen moving that cargo from the farm buildingsdown to a new shed near the pier.”

The United States officers looked at eachother queerly at this information.

“I think,” pursued young Captain Halstead,“that the Alvarez crew mean to get their goodsaway to-night or to-morrow night.”

“This matter will have to have quick lookinginto,” said Mr. Lawrence, hastily. “But onething we came here to learn is whether you intendto prosecute any of that crowd under thestate law?”

“If you can get the Alvarez crowd under thefederal law,” said Lawyer Crane, quickly, “Ithink you will be able to push the prisonersharder. For one thing, we might be hamperedby the fact that Alvarez and his associatesdidn’t actually steal young Dunstan, but luredhim away. The same thing, perhaps, but itmight make a difference with a jury. Whatdo you say, Mr. Dunstan? Shall we foregoprosecution in favor of giving the nationalGovernment the best chance at the offenders?”

“Why, after thinking it over a bit,” rejoinedHorace Dunstan, “I am inclined to feel that Ihave won out over the rascals, and I can affordto let it go by by laughing at them.”

“Good,” nodded Inspector Lawrence. “Then,Mr. Dunstan, there are still hundreds of peopleoutside the hotel, talking over the wholewonderful story. Why don’t you go out, thelocal officers and your lawyer with you? Thecrowd will be sure to yell for a speech. Makethem a little one, and in it state that you considerthe joke is on your enemies. Add thatyou have therefore forgiven that other crowd, and that you will show it by attempting noprosecution.”

“I’ll do that if it will help you,” replied Mr.Dunstan, after looking at his lawyer, whonodded.

“Dad, after this, if you send me notes,” saidTed, “you’ll have to have a private way of signingyour name, so I’ll know the note reallycomes from you.”

Warren had been explaining the story of themystery, aside, to Inspector Joyce, who nowbroke in:

“Alvarez, as you may not know, was formerlya Mexican. A series of forgeries, committedby him and detected, forced him to flee to Honduras.So it is easy to understand how thenote to young Dunstan was forged.”

Ted again thanked Tom and Joe, and forthat matter, the others who had aided him.Then the Dunstan party prepared to go.

“Halstead, you and your friend will remain,I hope,” proposed Mr. Lawrence.

“Certainly he may remain,” said Mr. Dunstan.“I fancy he can be of much assistanceto you, gentlemen. So will Dawson.”

“And Mr. Dunstan,” suggested Lawrence, goingafter Ted’s father, “may we, if it seemsnecessary, use your boat to-night?”

“I would be a poor citizen to refuse that tothe Government’s officers,” smiled Mr. Dunstan.“Certainly you may have the ‘Meteor.’”

Warren and his friends remained, but went toanother side of the room. Tom and Joe wereinvited to seat themselves and go over the wholestory with the Government officers.

When Lawrence saw the note that hadbeen pressed into Halstead’s hand, out in thecrowded square, the inspector looked rathergrave.

“Yes, that defiance comes from Alvarez,” hedeclared. “Now, Captain Halstead, until therascals have been taken, or driven from thecountry, you will do well to be wholly on yourguard. Alvarez, when driven into a corner, isas desperate and remorseless as is the proverbialfighting rat.”

“You’re going over to Sanderson’s placeto-night, are you?” asked Joe, after some moreof the tale had been told.

“Assuredly,” replied Mr. Lawrence. “Weshall have to watch every night until an attemptis made to get the unlawful cargo out onto thehigh seas. But I am afraid Alvarez and hiscrowd will be in hiding to-night, fearing thelocal officers on account of the Dunstan business.”

“Did you hear the cheers outside?” askedone of Warren’s companions, entering at thismoment. “Mr. Dunstan just made the requestedspeech. There was a dead hush whenhe declared to the crowd that he had no ideaof attempting to prosecute the men who hadlured his boy away. The crowd was plainlydisappointed.”

“It will be a good thing for us, if that newsreaches the Sanderson-Alvarez crowd,” musedMr. Lawrence.

“I haven’t a doubt that the pleasing newswill reach ’em,” smiled Tom Halstead. “Ifthey had a man in the crowd to force that noteinto my hand, the same man must still be thereand will take back any news that he can.”

“Then we’ll stop talking of this matter untilwe’ve fortified ourselves with something toeat,” proposed Mr. Lawrence. “Are you youngmen of the ‘Meteor’ hungry?”

“Hungry?” echoed Halstead, feelingly.

“No, I’m not really hungry,” stated Joe.“At the same time if a nice little lamb, roastedwhole, tried to walk by me just now, it wouldshow great want of judgment on the lamb’spart.”

“Then we’ll go to supper,” declared the inspectorrising. “But you young men would dowell to keep away from us in the dining room,in case there should be any watchers about forthe Alvarez party. We can meet up here againafter the meal is over.”

When the boys, Warren’s party and the threeUnited States officers came together again Mr.Lawrence proposed that Warren take Joe inthe auto over to the Dunstan place. Joe andJed could bring the “Meteor” around to a wharfin Nantucket harbor, and all could embark.

“The trip could be made by land, in autos,of course,” Inspector Lawrence explained toHalstead. “But there’s a possibility that wemay need to pursue a filibustering steam craft.”

Later on the hotel party sauntered down, inthree or four groups, to the wharf in question.By the time they arrived at the water front theymade out the “Meteor” just gliding into theharbor, Jed Prentiss at the wheel and Joe in theengine room. The entire party quickly embarked,Tom now taking the wheel. Darknesswas just coming down as the “Meteor” withno lights showing by Mr. Lawrence’s order, stole around Great Point. Now, Halsteadlet out a few more notches of speed, theboat going swiftly down the east coast of theisland.

“Joe,” murmured Tom, his eyes shining ashis chum came up from the engine room, “doyou remember the ‘great night’ we had off themouth of the Kennebec?”

“Yes,” nodded Dawson, “but this is goingto be easier for us. Instead of one, there areseven officers aboard to-night, and the sea isalmost glassy. This won’t be anything but abusiness trip, so to speak.”

Whether Joe was right in his prediction yetremained to be seen. At Halstead’s suggestion, made to Inspector Lawrence, the “Meteor” wasrun quietly into a small cove, just north of abend that, in daylight, would have shut themout of a view of Sanderson’s pier. As the motorboat was carrying no lights Mr. Lawrencefelt confident that they had made the covewithout having been discovered from lower down thecoast.

“We’ll want two guides who know every footof the way,” decided Mr. Lawrence. “Dawsonwill know the way to the outbuildings behindthe farmhouse, and the lay of the ground aboutthere. Halstead, you can pilot some of us overthe ground near the pier. Now that the anchoris overboard the ‘Meteor’ will be safe here.Prentiss can remain aboard. Even if he discoveredtrouble threatening, he could raise theanchor and slip swiftly out into open water.The ‘Meteor’ can show a vanishing stern to anyother boat in these waters.”

“And if you

should

want to signal us for help,Jed,” said Tom, a moment later, bringing upon deck a box from one of the lockers, “here arethe signal rockets and Roman candles. Wait amoment.”

Tom disappeared below once more, to returnwith a tin-lined trough affair. By means oftwo hooks he made this device fast at the portrail. This “trough” was intended to rest arocket in before touching it off and sending itskyward.

“I’ll be snug and safe as anything,” declaredJed, smiling. He felt brave enough, in fact, untilthe dingey, going ashore for the second time, carried the last of his companions. Then allwas still, absolutely quiet, lonely and black.Jed, being highly imaginative, began to fancyhe saw figures darting from tree to tree on shore.The bushes had a mysterious look, for it wasso nearly dark that he could just make out theiroutlines.

Prentiss had said of himself that he was ahero, in theory, but that when danger faced himhe was likely to forget much of his courage.There are many such boys. They are not cowards, but are imaginative, have highly strungnervous systems, and are without real experienceof danger. When that experience doescome they often find themselves possessed offar more grit than they had believed.

Time slipped by. Nothing happened tojustify the state of Jed’s nerves. He was lonely, and wondering what the others were doing. Atlast, however, he heard something real. Prentisssprang up, stepping to the port rail to listen.The sound was unmistakable, that of a marineengine, though as yet the sound was far away.

“Can that be the filibustering steamer?” Jedwondered, thrilling.

Nearer and nearer came the sound. Prentisswas enough of a salt-water boy to know that thecraft must be a more than usually fast one.The strange craft was evidently keeping in closeto shore. At last, the keen-eyed boy grimlymade out a sea-going tug. Then she camenearer, and Jed knew that she was going to passwithin an eighth of a mile.

“It must be the filibustering steamer,”throbbed the boy. “She’s not a Governmentboat, yet she’s showing no lights. That boat

must

be making for Sanderson’s pier!”

Then, all of a sudden, a single light

did

show.An electric searchlight blazed out, sweeping itsray along the coast. It was hardly a momentbefore that ray of light fell across the “Meteor”and remained there.

“Wow!” ejaculated Jed, in his excitement.“Now, those fellows can get in here before I cansignal any of our crowd back to the ‘Meteor.’”

Prentiss immediately found himself trembling.He sprang down into the engine room, intent onstarting the motor. In his excitable state ofmind it seemed to him that the motor had atleast a dozen drive wheels and no end of otherthings that had to be handled.

“And, oh, dear! I haven’t got the anchorup!” he groaned. He rushed up onto deck, only to find that the tug had started ahead again, and was bearing down directly upon him.Three men could be dimly made out forwardof the pilot house.

“They’re going to bear down upon this craftand sink her!” guessed Jed. “And, confound’em, they can do it before I can get up anchor, get the engine going, and get out of here!”

That it was the intention of those aboard thetug to ram the “Meteor,” and thus put her outof commission, seemed decidedly plain. Thetug was steaming slow but straight for the motorboat. Jed paused in a frenzy of uncertainty.

Then, all in a flash, a luminous idea came tohim. It looked almost crazy, yet it was the onlything that it seemed possible to do. Bendingdown the signal rocket box, Jed grasped a pieceof slow-match. This he lighted, his fingerstrembling. Then, as swiftly, he unfastenedthe lower hook of that rocket trough. He wasable, thus, to swivel the trough over the portrail.

“Now, we’ll see if the scheme’s any good,”quivered Jed, snatching up a rocket and restingit in the trough. Groping for his slow-match,he sighted along the stick of the rocket. Shaking,he applied the glowing end of the slow-matchto the rocket’s fuse. There was a sputtering, then a hiss.

Out over the waters shot the rocket, leavingbehind a fiery trail. It flew about three feetabove the top of the tug’s pilot house, droppinginto the ocean beyond.

“It was my trembling hand that spoiled myaim,” gasped Jed. “Now, another, and steady, old boy!”

Jed fitted the second rocket, applying thematch. Whizz! Smash!

“Ho, ho!” roared Jed, for that rocket, goingstraight and true, had smashed a light of glassin the tug’s pilot house. Bang! Being an explosiverocket, the thing blew into a thousandfragments inside that pilot house. A yell camefrom the man at the helm.

But Jed did not waste time looking or listening.He fitted another rocket, touching it offafter swift aim. That one whizzed between theheads of two of the three men out forward, andJed heard their rough words of alarm and anger.

“Wow!” ejaculated the boy. “I’m a wholeNavy! What?”

Another rocket he aimed at the three men.They scrambled in all directions. Still anotherrocket Prentiss drove through the pilot housewindows. Jed heard the engine room bell jinglefor the stop.

“I’ll give you plenty of it,” gritted Prentiss, thrusting a hand into the box and bringing forththis time a stout Roman candle – a fourteen-ballaffair.

Lighting and waving it, Jed was ready, at thepop of the first ball, to aim the affair at the tugboat. The missiles fell all about. Though Jeddid not know it, one of the hot, glowing ballsstruck Captain Jonas French squarely on theend of his bulb-like nose. He let out an Indian-likeyell, dropping the wheel. Another mancrawled in on his knees to take the skipper’splace, but he kept down below the wood-workof the front of the pilot house, steering by thelower spokes of the wheel.

The tug’s bell sounded for reversed speed, then for the go-ahead, as the craft swung herbow around. They were retreating, but Jed, chuckling aloud in his glee, sent three morerockets after the tug, just to show her peoplethat he had plenty of ammunition left. Then, when the tug was out of range, Jed stood up, gazing after her dim lines.

“Say, maybe there are a few Deweys left inAmerica,” he laughed aloud. “I wonder what’sthe answer?”

CHAPTER XXIII – SPYING ON THE FILIBUSTERS

Meanwhile, at the Sanderson farm, business was proceeding at a rate thatentitled the word to be spelled with avery large capital “B.”

Mr. Lawrence and his comrades, underCaptain Tom’s pilotage, were hidden where, despitethe darkness, they could get a very fair idea ofwhat was going on at the pier. Joe had ledWarren and the other local officers up wherethey could know what was going on behind thefarmhouse. Sanderson, Alvarez and all handsexcept Captain Jonas French, were working likeso many industrious ants. Two of the men weremoving cases out of the new shed onto the pier.The rest were bringing cases down to the pierfrom the farm outbuilding. All the cases werebeing piled at the end of the pier.

“That means they’re going to ship everythingto-night,” whispered Mr. Lawrence.

“When are you going to jump on them?”Halstead asked.

“Not until they get everything on their vessel, and get out on the water. If we showed ourselvesnow, and tried to arrest the crowd, whatcould we prove? Sanderson has a perfect rightto stack any kinds of merchandise on his pier.But when we overhaul a craft out on the water, loaded down with filibuster’s supplies, and thecaptain of that craft can show no regular papersfor such a cargo, then we have the crowdwhere we want them.”

It was a dull time waiting, but Inspector Lawrencewas right, as a man of his experiencewas quite likely to be. The time slipped on, with no open move on the part of the law’speople.

“I thought I saw a rocket up north, then,”whispered Tom, at last.

“Watch and see whether there’s another,”replied Lawrence, also in a whisper. But therocket Tom had seen was the last that Jed hadderisively shot after the retreating tug. Itwasn’t long, however, before the young motorboat skipper and the United States officers heardthe sound of the tug approaching. They laylow, but watched, quietly until the tug had dockedat the end of Sanderson’s pier.

“We’ll still have to use patience,” smiledMr. Lawrence, turning to Tom. “This is goingto be a watching game for some timeyet.”

By now the gang that had been bringing casesdown from the outbuilding all filed out onto thepier. The sounds of brisk but regular loadingfollowed. An hour of this work, monotonousfor the hidden watchers, followed, and thenanother hour. Neither Tom Halstead nor Mr.Lawrence, from their hiding place, could seethe cargo piles on the pier very distinctly.

“Halstead,” inquired the inspector, “do yousuppose you can safely wriggle nearer, and seehow far the loading has gone?”

“I know I can,” Tom answered. “I’ll goslowly about it, and make never a sound, or showmyself.”

After a few minutes, in fact, Tom got withinseven or eight feet of the pier. He had crawledover the ground, and now lay flat with his headbehind the roots of a tree.

From where he lay he could make out DonEmilio Alvarez standing talking with CaptainJonas French. The latter, with a swollen noseand a powder-burned cheek, was telling the gentlemanfrom Honduras all about Prentiss’s remarkableachievement.

“Oh, say, but that was grand of old Jed!”breathed Tom, his sides shaking with suppressedlaughter. “If Jed doesn’t get a Carnegie medalI’ll have my opinion of some folks!”

Don Emilio tossed away a half-burned cigar.The butt fell close by the tree roots that helpedconceal the head of the young motor boat skipper.Perhaps the little brown man startedslightly from something that the glowing tobaccoshowed him. At all events, he spoke in a whisperto Jonas French. The next instant bothleaped down from the shore end of the pier, rushing at the tree.

Tom Halstead sprang up, prepared to sprintfor it, but hardly had he started when he felthimself gripped savagely by French. One instantmore, and Tom Halstead found himselfbeing borne, despite his yells and furious, fightingstruggles, out along the pier.

“All aboard and cast off!” yelled JonasFrench, as he sped on over the boards. Thelast case of the cargo had just gone over thetug’s rail, and now two men sprang to cast offbow and stern hawsers. The engine room belljangled just as French and Alvarez, with theirstrenuous prisoner, sprang aboard.

Inspector Lawrence and his two comrades hadlost no time. They now came dashing fromconcealment, but they were too late. As theyarrived at the end of the pier the tug was ahundred yards on her way.

At the starboard rail stood two seamen, holdingTom as in a vise. Behind the young motorboat skipper stood Don Emilio Alvarez, wavinga taunting hand at the officers. Jonas Frenchhad gone forward to take command of the tug.

The seamen, powerful, swarthy fellows wholooked like Portuguese, held Tom at the rail untilthe tug was half a mile from shore.

“Now, you can let go of him, my men,” noddedAlvarez, “but watch the young man.”

“Mr. Captain, how would you like to strollaft and look at a nice surprise we may serveout to your friends?” The Honduran’s tonewas mocking, bantering, but Tom Halstead, filled with curiosity, accepted the invitation.Alvarez led the way, the two seamen going behindthe boy.

On the deck aft stood something of considerablesize, covered by a canvas tarpaulin.

“Take off the covering,” directed Don Emilio.The two seamen obeyed.

“Fine, is it not?” chuckled Alvarez, pointingto a brightly polished brass cannon.

“Yes; fine – not!” spoke Tom, in a voice ofmingled anger and disgust.

“It is a signal gun, such as every vessel isallowed to carry,” chuckled Don Emilio. “Butour signal gun will also carry a two-inch shell – andwe have plenty of ammunition. If yourprecious ‘Meteor’ attempts to follow us to-nightwe shall send her to the bottom of the ocean!You see, our cargo is needed by brave and patrioticmen in Honduras, and we are desperateenough to take it there in the face of everyone.”

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The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket: or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir

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