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

“But how’ll I find you on my return?”

“Why, if you stop here, and honk your horntwice, we’ll come running to you.”

“You might run into the rascals,” mused Jennison.

“I hope we do,” muttered Tom.

“See here,” demanded the officer curiously,“aren’t you boys afraid to take a chance likethis?” His glance fell on Joe Dawson.

“No,” returned Joe very quietly.

“Well, it may not be a bad idea to leave youhere until I return,” said Jennison briskly.“You may pick up some sign. Anyway, I hopeyou don’t get into any trouble. Good-by for afew minutes.”

The car sped out of sight, but neither boywaited to watch it.

“It’s a pretty fair guess, Joe,” said Tom,“that Alvarez and French came up this wayfrom the shore. Now, that way, the road leadsto Wood’s Hole. And there’s the opposite direction.Alvarez has a little foot like a woman’s;French has a very large foot. Now if we canfind two such foot marks together, it wouldlook as though we could find the direction ourmen have taken. Have you any matches?”

“Plenty,” Dawson replied.

“So have I. Then suppose you go that way,”pointing toward Wood’s Hole. “And I’ll gothe other way. We can light matches every twoor three hundred feet and examine the ground.One of us may pick up the trail we want tofind.”

“Good enough,” was all that came from quietJoe, as he started at once.

For a few minutes the boys could see eachother’s lights when matches were struck. Thenthe winding of the road hid them from eachother.

Twice the young skipper had found imperfectfootprints in the sandy road, but they were notclear enough for him to be sure that these werethe tracks he sought. Now Tom stopped again, striking a match and walking slowly along ashe shielded the flame from the light breeze withhis hands. Then suddenly he came to a briefhalt, as his gaze traveled across the road. Hesaw an object on the ground in front of a bush,an object that caused him to bound across theroad.

“Great! Fine!” breathed the boy jubilantly.“I’d know this little article anywhere. It’s thetobacco pouch of – ”

“Ah, good evening, my friend,” broke in ataunting voice. “It’s the meddling boy himself!”

Halstead, even before he could straighten up, found himself staring between the branches ofthe bush into a pair of gleaming, mocking eyes.

“Señor Alvarez!” cried the young skipper.

Then something struck Tom heavily from behind, felling him to the ground, unconscious.

CHAPTER XII – JOB HAS HIS COURAGE TESTED

When young Halstead next knew anythinghis mind was hazy at first.He realized dimly, and then moreclearly, that he was upon some one’s shoulder, being carried. There was a buzzing, too, overhis right ear, where his head throbbed dully andached.

As he opened his eyes wider he saw that hewas being carried along under trees and overrising ground.

Then his thoughts became clearer and he feltcertain it was none other than Captain JonasFrench who was carrying him. Some one else, probably Alvarez, was treading the ground behindhim.

Halstead gave a sigh, then murmured:

“Put me down!”

They were luckless words, for French ventedbut the one syllable, “Right,” then droppedhim to the ground and sat on him.

“Don’t make the mistake of trying to makeany noise, either,” growled the once florid-facedone. “No one could hear you here except us, but we’ll take noise as an evidence of unkinddisposition on your part.”

“Tie him,” murmured Don Emilio, standingover the boy.

Without making any response in words,French rolled the boy over on his face. Tomdidn’t attempt to resist. He was too weak; hisstrength was just beginning to come back.French knotted a rope around his wrists, heldbehind him, then quickly lashed the young skipper’sankles together.

“And this!” insisted Alvarez. A gag composedof two handkerchiefs was forced betweenHalstead’s lips and made fast there.

“Now, my meddling boy, you may be as unpleasantas you please,” mocked Don EmilioAlvarez, bending over and smiling into Halstead’sface. “Ah, you have been troublesometo us – very. And you have inquired what Iwould do to you if I had you down in Honduras, where they do things differently. Ah, well!Perhaps, my meddling boy, you shall discoverwhat I would do to you! Will you, my largefriend, lift him and carry him on again? Weare not far from the place where we can keephim securely enough.”

With a grunt French once more shoulderedhis burden, tramping on through the forest, Alvarezstill bringing up the rear. Then, from thecrest of a rise they pressed between a fringe ofbushes and next began to descend a narrow, rocky path. They stopped in a ravine, denselygrown with trees.

“Even in the daytime this place is hardlylikely to be found by prying eyes,” laughed Alvarezconfidently. “And now, my captain, youmight rid yourself of the meddling boy.”

French dropped Tom at the base of a youngspruce tree, knotting another cord to his feetand passing it around the trunk of the tree.

“He won’t get away – can’t, even though wewere to leave him here through the night,” mutteredFrench gruffly.

“And I, since my meddling boy found for methe tobacco pouch that I dropped in his path forbait, will enjoy a smoke once more,” laughedSeñor Alvarez. He rolled a cigarette, whichhe soon was puffing. French, having filled a pipe, lighted that and stretched himself at full length.Thus several minutes went by. Tom Halstead, unable to talk, spent his energies in wonderingwhether Ted Dunstan was anywhere in the nearneighborhood.

After many minutes had passed the deep silenceof this wild spot was broken by an owlhoot. Alvarez, raising his head, answered by asimilar hoot. Then from the distance came twohoots.

“Come, we will go forward to meet ourfriends,” proposed the swarthy little maneagerly, as he sprang to his feet. French gotup more lumberingly, though almost as quickly.Together they trod up to the head of the ravine.Out of the darkness ahead came Pedro and alittle brown man who looked as much like aSpaniard as Alvarez did.

“We’se done brought yo’ dis,” stated Pedrowith a grin that showed his big, white teeth.

“This” was Joe Dawson, his hands tied behindhim, his face as sullen as a storm cloud ina summer shower. Joe was walking, led byPedro, and pushed at times by the brown man.

“Ho, ho!” laughed Alvarez, in keen relish.“You have not done badly. You bring me theother meddling boy. Halt him here – so. Tiehim against this tree that he may have a chanceto lean.” Alvarez watched until Joe had beenmoored fast, then asked:

“How many did you come out with to-night?”

“Guess!” proposed Joe pleasantly.

“Don’t dare to be impertinent, boy!” warnedDon Emilio, his eyes flashing. “Answer mestraight, and – what do you call it? – to thepoint, as you Americans say.”

“Lemon?” laughed Joe Dawson coolly. “No, thank you. I always take vanilla.”

“Boy, if you get me any more angry,”stormed Don Emilio, “you will regret it.”

But Dawson merely looked at the swarthy, false-bearded little man with an air of boredom.

“Let me handle him,” proposed JonasFrench, stepping forward.

“I’ll be glad if you will wait on me,” drawledJoe, looking at the larger man. “I don’t believethis little fellow knows his business orhis goods.”

With an angered cry Don Emilio darted in, striking his cool tormentor across the face.

“Hold on,” objected Joe lazily, “I didn’t askto be called until nine o’clock.”

“Are you going to stop this nonsense?”demanded Don Emilio, his voice quavering withwrath.

“Dawson,” remarked French, “you don’t appearto realize your fix.”

Joe stared at him haughtily, remarking:

“My bill is not due until the end of the week.Go away and let me read in peace.”

Pedro, in the background, was holding onehand over his broad mouth to hide his expansivegrin over this cool nonsense. But DonEmilio was fast losing his not very certain temper.

“Go and bring that other boy Halstead,”ordered Alvarez. “When the two of them seeeach other they’ll know their game is up, andthey’ll come to their senses. If not, nothingwill make any difference to them after a fewminutes more.”

Without a word French turned, treadingdown the ravine. Just a little later he reappeared, looking bewildered.

“Alvarez,” he gasped, “come here. Thatother boy isn’t where we left him. Hurry!”

Uttering an exclamation of amazement, Alvarezdarted after his friend. Pedro and thelittle brown man, caught in the astonishment, bolted after their leaders.

Joe could not get away from the tree to whichhe was bound, but he stood there grinning withcool enjoyment. In another moment he felt alively sound at his back. Then Halstead whisperedin his ear:

“I’m cutting you loose, old fellow! Boltwith me!”

Dawson, straining at the cords while Tomslashed at them, was quickly free.

“Come along,” begged Tom. “Never mindstopping to leave cards or writing a note of regret.Hustle – this way!”

Halstead led in the swift flight in the directionthat he judged the roads to lie. They triedto go noiselessly, but they had not gone far whena shout behind showed them that their flighthad been detected.

“Sprint, old chum!” floated back over Halstead’sshoulder.

In looking back, the young skipper stumbled.Joe had to pause long enough to drag his comradeto his feet. That lost them a few preciousseconds, but they dashed onward once more.As they ran they heard the feet of the pursuersbehind. From greater familiarity with theground some of those in chase were gaining onthe fugitives.

Joe now led in the chase, with Tom at hisheels. They, came to what appeared to be thewooded slope leading down to the road. Joeran up against a wall almost sooner than he hadexpected. He nearly fell over it, but recoveredand jumped. Halstead landed in the roadbeside him.

There was another flying figure in the air, and Pedro was beside them, reaching out. Behindwere French and Don Emilio.

“Yo better stop, fo’ shuah!” called Pedro, parting his lips in a grin of huge enjoyment.“Dere ain’t no use in tryin’ to git away from me.”

CHAPTER XIII – A CAPTURE IN RECORD TIME

“Look out! He’s mine!” shouted Joe.

But Tom Halstead had sprung inthe same instant at Pedro. The resultwas that the combined assault of the boys borethe fellow to the ground, and Tom, remembering, just in the nick of time, the toy cap pistolthat Jennison had handed him, and which hadescaped discovery a few minutes before, hauledthat ridiculous “weapon” out, pressing itagainst the temple of the black man.

“Don’t you stir, if you know what’s best foryou,” warned the young skipper sternly.

Joe, seeing the lay of the land, leaped up tomeet Captain French, who was just reachingthat wall.

At that moment the noise of a speeding autowas borne to them, while around the bendwhizzed the machine, sending its strong searchlightray ahead to illumine the scene.

The yells of its occupants caused the otherpursuers of the boys to halt in confusion. Beforethey had time to think what to do the automobilewas racing up to the spot and stopping.Alvarez and his two companions bore away upthe wooded slope as fast as their alarm couldspur them.

“What’s this going on here?” demanded ConstableJennison, as he leaped out into the road.

“You’ll find some of the rascals up thereamong the trees,” replied Tom, coolly. “Ihave one of ’em here, but he’s tame now.”

Pedro, in fact, in his dread lest he be shot, was lying on his stomach, his face between hiscrossed arms, while Halstead stood over him, holding that wholly useless “pistol.”

“Just move that car a few yards ahead, willyou?” begged Tom of the chauffeur, fearingthat in the strong light, Pedro might steal alook sideways and find out what a comical“weapon” had scared him.

“There are three of the crowd up there,”added Joe. “They were chasing us, but yourarrival scared them off.”

“I’ll make sure of the one we have, first,”returned the constable, going toward the prostratenegro. “My man, put your hands behind you, and be quick about it.”

Pedro obeyed without a murmur, the constablesnapping handcuffs on him without lossof an instant. “Now, help me lift him intothe auto – front seat,” directed the officer.But Pedro, seemingly afraid of the consequencesof any stubbornness, aided his captors.

“Can you keep him, Jack?” asked the constableof the man at the steering wheel.

“I can bring him down, if he tries to bolt,”came the quick retort from the chauffeur.

“’Fore hebben, Ah won’t try nothing funny,”protested Pedro, solemnly. He was seeminglystill afraid that the slightest defiance wouldcost him his life.

“See that this fellow is locked up, Jack,”commanded Jennison, in a low voice. “Speedsome, too, and get back here as fast as you canwith some more men. It may be that there’sgoing to be a fight.”

Just as the car started two sharp reports rangout from the hillside above. There were twoflashes, and bullets whizzed ominously over theroad. One of them pierced Tom’s uniform cap, carrying it from his head.

There being nothing he could do, Dawsonthrew himself to the ground, out of harm’s way.Tom, crouching low, darted across the roadafter his hat. But Jennison leaped forward, weapon in hand, letting three shots fly back toanswer the defiance from under the trees.

“Come on! We’ll close in on ’em and mow’em down if they don’t surrender!” shoutedthe officer.

His call to the boys was intended for thehearing of those above. He had no notion thatthe boys, unarmed, would accompany him.Yet, as Jennison bounded over the wall, thetwo young motor boat boys were behind himon either side.

“Now, then, you fellows up there, throwdown your shooting irons and prepare to giveyourselves up,” called the doughty constable.“If you don’t – ”

Four shots answered this demand, the bulletsclipping off leaves so close to the trio thatthe boys crouched lower almost instinctively.

“All right, then, I’m coming up to get you!”shouted the constable running forward, weaponin hand. But he halted at length, well awayfrom the road, uncertain which way to turn.

“What are you boys doing here, unarmed?”he whispered, facing them in surprise.

“We’re as safe here as we’d be anywhereelse hereabouts,” Tom whispered back.

“Yes, I don’t know but that’s so. Butwhere can the scoundrels be? Do you knowanything about the lay of the land here?”

“I think we can find the ravine where theytook us,” suggested Joe.

“Try to, then.”

Both boys now went a bit in advance of theofficer, but he kept close to them, in order tobe on hand if they ran into any danger.

The ravine proved to be empty, however.Tom pointed out where he had slashed Joe’sbonds away. “And over yonder,” he added,“I guess I can show you the rope I worked myown wrists out of. Once I worked my handsfree it didn’t take me long to cut away the restof the tackle.”

Though they searched for upwards of an hour, they were unable to find any further trace ofthe scoundrels. Nor did they come upon anyplace that looked as though it had been used asa hiding place for the missing Dunstan heir.

Then a loud honking from the road recalledthem. The chauffeur was there with the machine, from which were alighting four deputieswhom he had brought out with him fromWood’s Hole.

“I’m going to leave you men here to carryon the search,” explained Mr. Jennison. “Keepit up all through the night, and through thedaylight, too, if you run across anything thatlooks like a trail. These young men will describeto you the fellows you’re expected tofind. I’ll be back bye and bye, but don’t waitfor me.”

Tom and Joe quickly described the threefugitives from justice. Then Jennison turnedto the chauffeur to inquire:

“Could you work any information out of thatblack man?”

“Not a word,” came the grumbling reply.“After a few minutes he got over being soscared, but he couldn’t be made to say a wordabout his crowd. Just closed his mouth, andwouldn’t talk. Musgrave has him in hand now,at the station house, but not a word can the fellowbe made to say.”

“I’m going back with you, now,” proposedJennison, “to see what I can get out of him.You boys may as well come with me. It lookslike a losing chase here. If we can get somethingout of the chap, Pedro, we’ll have somethingreal to come back with.”

So Tom and Joe piled in with their newfriend. In less than half an hour they had enteredthe little guard-room of the police stationat Wood’s Hole. Pedro, still manacled, was seated in a hard wooden armchair betweentwo constables, while Detective Musgrave pacedthe floor before him.

“He’s trying a crafty game,” smiled Musgrave,as the newcomers entered. “Once in awhile the prisoner talks, but when he does it’s toshake his head and mutter a string in Spanish.”

“He understands English well enough,” answeredTom. “He has talked a whole lot of itto me.”

“Of course he understands English,” laughedMr. Musgrave. “I know his type of coloredman well. He’s a Jamaica negro, born andbrought up with English spoken around him.Afterwards he went over to Central Americaand picked up Spanish.”

“No sabe,” broke in the negro, lookingblankly at those who surrounded him.

“Oh, you savvy plenty well enough,” Tom retortedtartly. “And see here, Pedro, you’re apretty cheap sort of rascal anyway. You rememberhow Joe and I caught you, and how Iscared you cold? Do you know what it was thatscared your grit away from you? Just a plain, ordinary, every-day joke of a cap pistol!”

Pedro started, his lips opening in a gasp atthat information.

“Oh, of course you understand, just as wellas anyone else in the room,” Halstead went on.“And here’s the young cannon that made youlie so still in the road.”

With a short laugh Tom produced the cappistol, holding it before the astonished blackman’s face. Pedro’s disgusted expression wasenough to make them all laugh.

“He can’t even pretend he doesn’t understandEnglish now,” snorted Mr. Musgrave. “Comenow, my man, open your mouth and talk to us.It may help you out a bit when you come to betried.”

Still, however, the black man refused to say aword. Constable Jennison tried his hand atmaking the fellow speak, but without success.At last they gave it up. The negro was taken toa cell, left under watch, and the others went outside.

“I’m going back up the road,” Jennison announced.“Want to come with me, boys?”

“I think they’d better stay by the boat, in caseanything turns up that we want the craft,” Musgravebroke in.

So Tom and Joe struck out for the pier, findingJed mighty glad to have them back oncemore. For an hour the three boys sat on the“Meteor’s” deckhouse and talked. After thatthe time began to hang heavily on their hands.

Broad daylight came with still no word fromthe seekers, nor from any other point. At alittle after four o’clock Mr. Musgrave camedown to tell them that they might as well returnto Nantucket.

It was six o’clock when the “Meteor” berthedat the island. Jed had served a breakfast on thetrip over. As soon as the boat was docked Jedhurried into the broad bunk off the cabin passageway, while Tom and Joe, yawning withweariness, lay down on the engine-room lockers.

“This is Sunday morning and to-morrowmorning Ted Dunstan must be in court withhis father or lose a tremendously big fortune,”groaned Tom. “Oh, when we’ve been so nearto rescuing him, why can’t we have him safelyhome under his father’s roof?”

“Maybe I’ll have the answer thought out bythe time I wake up,” gaped Joe Dawson. “Butjust at this present moment I’m so tired I don’tknow whether I’m an imitation engineer or aclambake.”

Then another sound came from his berth.Dawson was snoring.

CHAPTER XIV – HEADED FOR THE SUNKEN REEF

Szz-zz! Sputter! And the fragrance of it, too!

“Say, you fellows; aren’t you ever goingto wake up?”

Jed Prentiss had his hand on Joe, shaking him.

“Have you any idea what time it is?”insisted Jed, as Dawson opened his eyeshalfway.

“Time to go to bed again,” muttered Joe, tryingto shake off that insistent hand and rollingover the other way.

“It’s after noon,” pronounced Prentiss.“Say, you fellows could sleep a week through!”And Jed gave Joe a hearty shake. “I told youbreakfast is ready.”

“No, you didn’t,” insisted Joe.

“I’ve told you so three times in the last fiveminutes,” asserted Jed, “but you wouldn’t wakeup long enough to understand. Can’t you get itthrough your head? Breakfast!”

“Whatcher got?” asked Joe drowsily.

“Coffee!”

“Had that yesterday,” protested Joe, settlinghimself as though for another doze.

“And bacon and eggs!”

“Had that three days ago,” complained Joe.

“And fried potatoes,” went on Jed.

“They’ll keep.”

“Muffins!” proclaimed Jed solemnly.

At that Dawson opened his eyes wide.

“Are they sticky inside or your best kind, browned all over the top?” Joe asked with ashow of interest.

“Browned?” echoed Jed. “Say, they’rebeauties – the best I ever baked. And I’veopened a tin of preserved pineapple to top offwith.”

“I guess maybe I’ll get up,” admitted Joe.

“You’d better, if you don’t want to find everythingcold and tasteless,” insisted Jed, whothereupon went over to shake Halstead.

But Tom slipped up instantly, reaching forhis swimming tights. Soon a splash was heardover the side. Joe followed him. Both feltmore awake when they came back to towel down.As they dressed the savory smells of Jed’s bestbreakfast made them hurry.

“I’d sooner have you wake me up, Jed, thansome folks I know,” announced Joe Dawson, ashe passed his plate for the second helping ofbacon, eggs and fried potatoes.

“It does taste good,” Halstead admitted witha relish, chewing hard. “But has there beenany news from the house this morning?”

“Haven’t seen a soul, except you sleepers,”Jed answered.

“How did you wake up, anyway!” demandedJoe suspiciously. “Alarm clock at your head?”

“Yes,” assented Prentiss. “But it reallywoke me up. That’s more than it could do foryou fellows.”

By the time they had that famous breakfastdown all felt better. Tom and Joe adjournedto the deck, where Jed joined them as soon ashe had washed the dishes and cleaned up.

“Here comes Mr. Dunstan now,” announcedJoe presently.

All turned to look at the boat’s owner. Mr.Dunstan appeared to have aged greatly afterhis night’s vigil. His face was furrowed bycare; he walked with a greater stoop than before.

“Poor fellow,” sighed Halstead. “And thereare only twenty-four hours left for finding theDunstan heir.”

“No news, I take it, sir?” hailed Tom, as theowner stepped upon the pier and came towardthe boat.

“None, since the word Mr. Musgrave sent melast night of your exploits,” murmured HoraceDunstan, shaking his head sadly. “And tothink that my boy has spent days aboard thatugly craft,” he added, gazing wistfully atthe yellow-hulled launch at anchor a few rodsaway. Then he turned once more to the youngskipper.

“How are you and your friends, Halstead?Very tired?”

“I don’t believe we’re so weary that you’dnotice it unless you looked very hard,” smiledHalstead.

“If you’re not too much used up by lastnight’s work I have a favor to ask of you. Butit’s not an order, understand?”

“Why, what can it be, Mr. Dunstan?”

“Well, you see,” continued the owner apologetically,“before this trouble happened we hadinvited Mrs. Lester and her two young daughtersto spend a fortnight with us. They had notheard of our misfortune, and so they came overon this morning’s boat. They heard in Nantucketand telephoned us, proposing to turnabout and go home again. But of course we insistedthat they should come to us. They aregoing to church, this evening, but Mrs. Dunstanis so much upset over the mystery surroundingour son that – that – well, we thoughtof proposing that they use the ‘Meteor’ for alittle sail this afternoon. That is, in case youyoung men are not too tired to – ”

“Why, of course we can take the boat out,”replied Halstead, breaking in upon the considerateowner. “It won’t tire us any more thanlolling around the pier.”

“Mrs. Dunstan and I will both be greatlypleased if you will do it,” declared HoraceDunstan gratefully.

“But do you think any developments fromshore will make it necessary to get the ‘Meteor’on the jump over to Wood’s Hole?” broke inJoe.

“You might keep the boat within sight of ourflagpole,” replied Mr. Dunstan. “That willallow you to sail some miles away if you usethe glass every few minutes. In case we wantyou to return here in haste we’ll hoist one redpennant. If we want you to make full speedfor Wood’s Hole, without first returning here,we’ll hoist two red pennants. In the latter caseyou can land Mrs. Lester and her daughters andthey can go to the hotel at Wood’s Hole untilyour work with the boat is done. Then you canbring them back.”

“That’ll all be clear and easy,” nodded Tom.“Well, sir, we’re ready when you are.”

“I’ll be right back with the ladies,” promisedMr. Dunstan. Joe began to oil the engine, whileJed made a dive for his cleanest white duck suit.Tom carefully brushed his uniform; he hadsecured another coat, at the owner’s expense, since leaving that other behind in the tight gripof Jonas French. It was a trim, natty-lookingboat’s crew that met the ladies when Mr. Dunstanbrought them aboard. Mrs. Lester was awoman of forty, still young looking and handsome.The girls – Elsie, aged seventeen, andJessie, fifteen, looked extremely sweet anddainty in their white dresses, blue reefers andyachting caps.

Mr. Dunstan left them almost immediately.

“Shall I take you aft to the deck chairs?” inquiredTom.

Mrs. Lester assented, but the girls declaredthat, if they might, they much preferred to remainon the bridge deck and watch the runningof the boat. To this Tom gladly assented.

The “Meteor” slipped gracefully away fromher pier, then turned and headed over in thedirection of Muskeget Island. This was a coursethat would keep them easily in sight of the Dunstanflagpole.

“You must look upon us as splendid nuisances?”suggested Elsie.

“Yes, to that, if you’ll leave out the word‘nuisances,’” smiled Captain Tom gallantly.

“But to be asked to take the boat out, afterall your hard and daring work last night,”added Jessie.

“Hard work comes naturally in a life on thesea,” Tom replied. “And we had our sleep, after the night’s work.”

“But what fearful danger you went through.Mr. Dunstan was telling us all about it, as heheard it from his man over at Wood’s Hole,”said Elsie. “What fearful danger you werein!”

“We didn’t think much about it at the time,”remarked Halstead modestly. “When one hashad to stand at the wheel of a motor boat, onthe broad ocean, in all sorts of weather, andwhen he has to win out and bring his craft andpassengers back safely, he doesn’t meet muchthat he calls dangerous.”

It was so quietly spoken that both girlsglanced quickly, admiringly at the young captain.Joe, standing at the hatchway, looked asthough he were thinking of nothing but the revolutionsper minute that the propeller shaft wasmaking.

“It must just be a splendid life!” declaredJessie impulsively. “I wish I were a boy.”

“Some day,” laughed Tom, “you may bepleased that you’re not.”

“Yet it must be fine,” pursued Elsie, “to lookover this handsome boat and feel that you’reman enough to be absolute master of her and tofeel that you can handle and control her underany conditions.”

“I couldn’t,” Halstead declared seriously.“I can steer the boat as long as the steeringgear isn’t damaged or broken, that is, if theboat is under headway. But let there be an accidentto the steering mechanism or let the motorrefuse to drive the propeller, and suppose theaccident to be of such a nature that we threeboys couldn’t make the necessary repairs, howmuch control do you think I’d have over thiscraft? How much of a master do you think I’dbe? Miss Lester, certain men have used theirbrains to design boat hulls. Other men have inventedand perfected the propeller mechanism.Then finally other men, out of their brains, constructedthe gasoline motor. We boys didn’thave anything to do with any of those triumphsof skill. All we’ve had to do is to learn how tobe handy with the handling of other people’s discoveries.”

“That doesn’t sound very impressive, doesit?” laughed Jessie.

“It isn’t,” declared Joe, taking part in thetalk for the first time. “Down at the mouth ofthe Kennebec River there’s a whole club of boyswho have learned to do just what we do.”

“You may try to make out that you’re notbrave and manly,” laughed Elsie, “but I shallkeep on believing that you are.”

“That’s why I wish, sometimes, I could be aboy and grow up to be a man,” added Jessie.

“I guess a woman can find enough chance toshow bravery,” Tom answered thoughtfully.

“Oh, how the boat is rolling,” cried Elsie, lurching as the “Meteor” rolled over to port.

Jed, who had just lowered the glass after alook at the Dunstan flagstaff, caught her lightlyby one elbow, steadying her.

“If you brace your feet, just this way,” explainedJed, illustrating the idea with his ownfeet, “the roll won’t carry you off your balance.”

Both girls practiced it, laughing gayly overhaving learned a new trick on shipboard.

“Mr. Dunstan said something about yourgoing only a certain distance away from hisplace,” observed Miss Elsie presently.

“We must keep within sight of the flagstaff; that is, we mustn’t go so far that we’d fail tosee a signal through the glass,” Tom explained.

“How much further can you go, then?” inquiredMiss Jessie.

“Do you see that point over on Muskeget Island?” – pointing.

“Yes.”

“We can go a couple of miles beyond thereand still be able to make out signals.”

“My, it’s getting windier and rougher, isn’tit?” asked Elsie presently.

“I think there’s a good blow coming up beforelong,” Halstead answered. “If you wish,we can turn about and head back toward thepier.”

“Not unless you really want to,” protestedthe girl. “I’m enjoying this trip too much.”

“Then we’ll pass Muskeget and cruise upand down, instead of going further away fromNantucket,” Tom proposed. “The wind isshifting around to northeast, which promises agoodish kind of blow at this time of the year.If we should get very rough weather I’d like tobe where I can run in with you quickly, insteadof taking chances out here.”

“Can the ‘Meteor’ go faster than she’s goingnow?”

“Well, she’s making about fourteen miles,”smiled the young captain. “Her best speed isabout twice that.”

They ran out past Muskeget Island, thenturned back on their course, going nearer toNantucket. They were now about north ofMuskeget, but gradually passing the island, when Tom began to notice that something waswrong with the speed of the boat.