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   :PG.Id: 35728
   :PG.Title: Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence
   :PG.Released: 2011-03-30
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Roger Frank
   :PG.Producer: the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
   :DC.Creator: Louis Arundel
   :DC.Title: Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1913
   :coverpage: images/cover.jpg
   
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MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE ST. LAWRENCE
===================================

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   This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
   almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
   re-use it under the terms of the `Project Gutenberg License`_
   included with this eBook or online at
   http://www.gutenberg.org/license.

   

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      Title: Motor Boat Boys on the St. Lawrence
      
      Author: Louis Arundel
      
      Release Date: March 30, 2011 [EBook #35728]
      
      Language: English
      
      Character set encoding: UTF-8

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   “Promise to read to me the log of your last trip, when you
   went down the big river.”

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   | :xl:`MOTOR BOAT BOYS`
   | :xl:`ON THE ST. LAWRENCE`

   OR

   :lg:`Solving the Mystery of the Thousand Islands`

   By

   LOUIS ARUNDEL

   | Chicago
   | M. A. DONOHUE & CO.
   |
   | COPYRIGHT 1913
   | BY M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
   |
   | Made in U.S.A.

.. contents:: Table of Contents
   :backlinks: entry
   :depth: 1

..

   |
   |
   | MOTOR BOAT BOYS SERIES
   |
   | THE MOTOR CLUB’S CRUISE DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI
   | THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER
   | THE MOTOR CLUB ON THE GREAT LAKES
   | MOTOR BOAT BOYS AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS
   | MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE COAST
   | MOTOR BOAT BOYS RIVER CHASE
   | MOTOR BOAT BOYS DOWN THE DANUBE
   |
   | List Price 60c Each
   |
   |

.. class:: center

    | :xl:`THE MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE ST. LAWRENCE;`
    | or
    | :lg:`Solving a Mystery of the Thousand Islands`

CHAPTER I—AFTER THE GAME
========================

“That was a hard game for Macklin to lose,
fellows!”

“I should say it was, Herb.”

“He nearly pitched his head off, too. Wow!
how they did come in like cannon balls!”

“And talk about curves and drops, Little
Clarence was roight there wid the goods,” said
a stout boy; whose freckled face, carroty hair
and blue eyes, as well as the touch of brogue
to his voice, told of Irish blood.

“But Jack met his hot pace, and went him
one better. Clarence may be a cracker jack in
the box, but he can’t *just* come up to good old
reliable Jack Storm ways, of the high school
baseball club.”

“Oh, shucks! enough of that taffy, fellows,”
laughed the object of this praise, as he swung
the bat he was carrying; “why, you know right
well I was up against the fence when they made
that ninth inning rally. They had found me
with the goods on. And you know who won
that game for us—our never failing, heavy
pinch-hitter, Buster Longfellow. When his
bat got up against the horsehide I knew it was
all over but the shouting for Clarence.”

“Wasn’t he mad, though? Hurrah for Buster!
He’s not built for a runner, they say,
but he’s got the batting eye. That hit was a
peach!”

“Thanks, George. I believe I did help
Brodie dash home with the winning tally. It’s
awful nice of you fellows to appreciate talent!”

The boy called Buster made a mock bow as
well as he was able. He was fat and chunky,
so that his baseball suit seemed moulded to his
figure. While his name was understood to be
Nick Longfellow, he seldom heard it save at
home or in school. To his fellows he was
known by such significant names as “Buster,”
“Pudding,” and “Hippopotamus.”

There were just five in the bunch, dusty,
tired fellows, all on the way home from a most
exciting game with a rival team, and the most
bitter rivals for supremacy in the little river
town along the upper Mississippi.

Besides Buster and Jack, there were the
Irish lad, Jimmie Brannagan, who lived with
the Stormways, being something of a ward of
Jack’s father; Herb Dickson, and George Rollins,
all of them members of the high school
team.

These five boys, with the addition of another
who was not present just then, composed the
membership of a motor boat club, and between
them owned three very clever craft. George’s
was a narrow speedboat, called the *Wireless*,
the powerful engine of which had a faculty
for getting out of order just when most
wanted. The one of which Jack was skipper
was named the *Tramp*, and while not so fast as
its dangerous competitor, could still make
great time. Herb possessed a commodious
launch, which he had very wisely christened
the *Comfort*, for she was as staunch and reliable
as a houseboat.

During the preceding autumn, taking advantage
of the school being closed until New
Year’s because of an epidemic in the town,
these boys had made a long trip down the Mississippi
river to New Orleans, being given permission
by their parents or guardians.

To make the run more interesting Jack’s
father had contributed a silver cup as a
trophy; and the annals of that adventurous
race have already been given in the first volume of
this series. The boys for some time
had been laying their heads together and planning
another outing for the coming vacation;
but for various good and sufficient reasons
they were keeping their intended cruising
ground a dead secret from everybody.

“Where’s Josh Purdue?” asked Herb, as
the party swung into the main street of the
town. “We want him along when we talk
over that letter Jack had from Clayton, where
our boats are going. What did you do about
hiding their destination, Jack?”

“Yes,” said George, quickly. “You know
we agreed that those chaps were nosing all
about, trying to get a clew. Clarence has ordered
a rattling motor boat from some eastern
maker, and if he could only learn where we’re
going to hang out this summer, wouldn’t he
just try to make it warm for us, though? Ten
to one you hadn’t left the station five minutes
after fastening on the tags before he was reading
the same.”

“I expected that, fellows,” laughed Jack,
“and did the best I could to fool him. The
boats are only sent to the address in Milwaukee.
From there they will be rebilled to Clayton
and shipped on a steamer through the
lakes.”

“But he might even have the nerve to write
to that agent and make some excuse for asking
where they were sent. How about that, Jack?”
asked Herb.

“I even thought of that,” replied the other.
“You see, when you’re dealing with wide-awake,
unscrupulous fellows like Clarence
Macklin, and his toady, Joe Brinker, it pays
to insure against trouble. And I’ve done it as
well as I knew how.”

“Tell us about it, please,” asked Buster,
anxiously.

“Well,” replied the one addressed, “I wrote
the agent in Milwaukee, stating the circumstances.
He turned out to be a jolly good chap;
for he answered me and promised that if Clarence
or Joe make inquiries he’ll put them on
the wrong track.”

“Bully for him!” ejaculated Nick. “We’ll
vote him thanks at our next meeting, fellows,
that’s what, and call on him in a body as we
go through to the steamer when on our way.”

“I wish the time was two weeks later,” remarked
Herb. “I don’t see just how I’m going
to stand it until after the exams are over.”

“Oh, well, the days manage to pass along;
and this glorious victory ought to make you
feel that life is worth living,” remarked Jack,
with mock seriousness.

“As for me,” remarked Buster, taking in a
long breath, as if in anticipation. “I just
dream of the bliss of cruising aboard a steady,
roomy boat like the *Comfort*. You can talk
all you want, George, about the delights of
flying through the water at the rate of twenty-five
miles an hour; but me to the cozy home-like
cruiser every time. Once is out for me,
you remember.”

“Do we, boys?” jeered George, looking at
the rest. “Well, will I ever forget how Buster
used to sit there in the stern of my flier, looking
like a stuffed pillow, with a cork life preserver
belted around him all the time, and trying
to keep his balance. And the less said
about his cooking the better. It haunts me
still.”

“Oh! but I’ve improved in that respect,
George, very much,” the fat boy hastened to
exclaim. “Don’t you worry about it, Herb.
I’m taking lessons from our colored cook right
now, and expect to branch out as a real prize
box. You know when I once set my mind to a
thing I generally get there, even if it does take
time. Great bodies move slowly, they say.
Didn’t I learn to swim after all my disappointments;
tell me that, George Rollins?”

“Sure you did, thanks to Jack here,” replied
the other. “But all through that trip you
gave me the nightmare because you had lost
some silly——”

“Hold on! you solemnly promised you’d
never say another word about that business
and I’m going to keep you to it, George,” cried
Buster. “We did have a glorious time of it,
you know. And I can do a little once in a
while to help the crowd forget their troubles,
can’t I?”

“Why, to be sure you can, Buster, and I’m
the last one to deny it,” declared George. “I
don’t mean half I say. You know my weakness
is a quick tongue. And after the grand
way you belted that ball today, I’d be willing
to forgive almost anything you’d ever done.
Shake on that, old partner of my joys and
woes.”

“The boats got off all right, that’s a comfort,”
observed Herb.

“How do ye know?” demanded Jimmie.

“I saw them on the cars, and moving out of
town, just in that ninth inning, when things
looked so black for us,” was the reply. “You
know my position out in right gives me a
chance to look across the big field to the railroad.
And as I was getting my breath,
after chasing that tricky ball Carson Beggs
whacked out, with two on bases, I had a
glimpse of a freight passing, and counted all
three boats on gondolas, fastened up in their
waterproof covers. It just seemed to give me
heart to go in and root harder than ever. It
was a lucky omen, too, fellows.”

“Well,” Jack said, “of course they’ll be waiting
for us at Clayton when we get there. And
although we talked of taking the steamer ourselves,
I think, on the whole, it would be wise
to go by train. In that way we’ll save a couple
of days. Besides, some time we mean to cruise
all through the great lakes, and we’d better
keep the trip until we can do it in our own
motor boats.”

“That sounds good to me!” cried Nick.

“And I’m sure it hits my case to a dot, because
it means less time to wait,” and Herb
nodded his head in a way that plainly told
how his mind was made up.

“That settles the lake trip, then,” laughed
George, “because I never did care much about
going that way. Jimmie, how do you stand
on it?”

“Wid both feet,” replied the party addressed,
emphatically. “The sooner we kin
arroive at the Thousand Islands, the better
I’ll be plazed.”

“Oh! well, let’s forget we ever mentioned
going the other way,” said Jack. “But that
won’t prevent our passing through Milwaukee,
stopping to shake hands with that obliging
agent, and finding if the boats got off all
right.”

“You can learn that by writing in a few
days, Jack,” observed Herb, sagaciously. “I
only hope Clarence doesn’t have a friend in
Milwaukee who would spy around and discover
the truth, that’s all.”

“If he writes the agent you can make up
your mind he hasn’t,” said Nick, as the party
came to a pause on a corner, where, as a rule,
they were accustomed to separating, each one
heading for his own home.

“Wait a little, boys. I think I see Josh coming
away back there,” remarked Jack, when
one of the others made some remark about
“seeing you later, fellows!”

“Looks like he was in a big hurry, too?”
suggested Nick.

“Well, he is half running, to be sure,” admitted
George.

“And there he goes waving his hand to us,”
mentioned Herb. “I guess Josh wants us to
wait up for him here. Perhaps he’s got something
to tell us.”

“Or it may be he just wants to wring the
hand of our friend Buster, and tell him, with
tears in his eyes, how delighted he was to have
him save the day for our team,” and Jack, as
he said this, winked at George; for it was a
notorious fact that Josh and the fat boy were
forever playing pranks on each other, and
often saying disagreeable things; that, however,
ended in nothing harder than a little
froth and bubble, since it was only surface and
make-believe animosity after all.

“Don’t you believe it,” declared the hero of
the late game, shaking his head in an aggressive
way. “Josh was the next batter up, and
I just know he thinks I swatted that ball to
cheat him out of the glory. For he had his
mind made up to send the horsehide over the
fence for a home run.”

“Well,” laughed Jack, “never wait to see
what the next batter is going to do. When the
chance comes you just poke that ball out into
deep center, and then roll down to first as fast
as you can. Then perhaps he’ll bring you
home with his big hit. But Josh is getting
here, and we’ll soon know now what ails him.”

“Don’t you go to borrowing trouble too
soon?” warned Herb. “I know Josh pretty
well, and how he likes to joke. He’s a false
alarm, that’s what.”

“But he looks serious enough right now,”
said George, with whom the runner was to
keep company on this new cruise they had
planned; and who, therefore, felt an especial
interest in Josh.

The newcomer was a rather slender fellow,
taller than any of the others, and the best runner
on the team. In times past Josh had been
troubled with indigestion; but the month and
more spent during their memorable Mississippi
cruise had about cured him of this, so
that he was looking better than ever before in
all his life. That was one reason why his
parents were only too glad to allow him the
chance of getting in the open again during the
coming vacation; for they believed it would be
the making of the lad.

Josh stopped running when close to the
others, as though husbanding his wind so that
he could communicate the news he bore.

“It’s all up, fellows!” he cried, as he finally
reached the corner, where the other five gathered
around him.

“What do you mean?” asked Jack, anxiously.

“Yes, explain, Josh. What’s up?” demanded
George.

“They know where our boats have gone!”
gasped Josh, excitedly. “Somebody must
have leaked, that’s what. And they’re going
to have their new motor boat shipped to the
Thousand Islands, too. Now, see what a
peck of trouble we’re going to have this
summer!”

CHAPTER II—CHUMS, TRIED AND TRUE
================================

“Josh, hold up your hand, and look me in the
eye!” said Jack, sternly.

“Oh! you don’t believe me, do you? But I
never was more serious in my life!” exclaimed
the newcomer, meeting Jack’s look squarely.

“Then I’m sorry, that’s all,” declared the
other. “If Clarence Macklin has found out
where we expect to cruise this summer, he’ll
lie awake nights trying to lay plans how to
give us all the trouble he can.”

“How d’ye know all this, Josh?” demanded
Nick, rather tremulously.

“I just happened to be near where Clarence
and Joe were having their heads together, and
the idea came to me to listen. I only thought
they were explaining how the game was lost,
and I wanted to hear Clarence say how somebody
sent a ray of sunlight into his eyes with
a pocket mirror, just when he was handing out
that ball Buster knocked out in deep center.
You know his way, fellows, and how he squirms
out of every hole so smoothly?”

“Yes, yes, of course we do, Josh; but go
on;” cried Herb.

“Don’t you see you’ve got us keyed up to
the breaking pitch? Let loose, and tell what
you heard!” exclaimed George, always nervous
and anxious to make speed.

“Well, it wasn’t much, but it counted for a
heap,” replied the narrator. “About as near
as I can remember, and repeat, this was what
Clarence said: ‘Never mind, Joe, we’re going
to get even soon. Wait till our dandy boat
gets to Clayton. Say, mebbe there won’t be
a lot of surprised fellows then, as we cut circles
around ’em, and make ’em wish they hadn’t
blackballed us. You wait and see, that’s all.’”

Various exclamations broke out from the
other boys.

“Oh, yes, they must know, all right!” said
Herb, bitterly.

“All I can say is it’s mighty queer, after
we’ve taken such pains to keep everything a
dead secret, so even our folks don’t know yet
where we’re going,” Josh continued to say,
meaningly.

Somehow or other, as if by mutual arrangement,
every eye seemed to be gradually focussed
on poor Nick, who turned as red as a
turkey cock.

“Oh! yes, look at me, won’t you?” he exclaimed,
spluttering more or less as was his
habit when unduly excited. “You think I’m
the one who leaked, just because I stopped to
talk with Clarence the other day on the street,
and George saw me. He never even said a
single word about boats, but asked me something
else. Look all you want too, but I tell
you, once for all, that if there *was* a leak, it
didn’t come through me! I never told a single
soul!”

“Oh! nobody has accused you, Buster,” said
Jack, soothingly, for he was fond of the good-natured
fat boy.

“That’s all right, but I guess I’ve got feelings,
and I can tell what every one of you is
thinking,” the other went on, in an aggrieved
tone.

“Just forget it, Buster,” Jack continued,
for he knew only too well how the fat boy liked
to harp on anything that worried him, and in
this way make life miserable for the others of
the club. “The mischief is done. Like as not
we may never know how it happened. And
there’s no need of our bothering our heads now
about spilt milk. The question is, shall we
change our plans, and go somewhere else this
summer?”

“I say no!” exclaimed Herb, immediately
and with firmness.

“That’s my case, too,” Josh echoed. “After
we’ve made all our fine arrangements, it would
be cowardly to back down just because those
two mean skunks choose to tag after us and
try to give us trouble.”

“Niver give up the ship! Thim’s my sintiments!”
observed Jimmie, aggressively. “And
I say the same,” remarked Nick. “Sooner or
later you’ll find out how they learned our
plans, and then you’ll all be sorry for putting
it on me, that’s what.”

“Then it seems settled that we make no
change,” said Jack, with a stern look on his
face; “for I’m of the same opinion as the rest.
We’ll go to the St. Lawrence, and if Tricky
Clarence and Bully Joe try to upset our plans,
they’ll find themselves barking up the wrong
tree, that’s all.”

“And so he thinks he’s got a wizard boat
that will cut circles all around my *Wireless*,
does he?” said George, with the light of anticipated
rivalry in his black eyes. “All right.
Perhaps Clarence has got another guess coming.
He’ll find me on the job all right, and
ready to give him a warm run for his money.”

“When did we start talking seriously for
the first time about choosing the Thousand
Islands, and the St. Lawrence for our summer
outing?” asked Herb, who seemed almost
as anxious as Nick to find out the truth concerning
the leak.

“I can tell you that,” replied the fat boy,
quickly. “It was that afternoon when Jack
asked us to stay after school, and meet him in
the clubroom for a little talk. Don’t you remember,
he read that letter he had from Clayton,
the first one; and we soon voted to make
the St. Lawrence our cruising ground this
summer.”

“Buster is right about that, for I remember
it distinctly,” remarked Jack.

“That was the little room in school that Mr.
Sparks allows the various clubs and organizations
to use when they ask permission—the
one on the second floor? Am I right, fellows?”
Herb went on.

“Sure ye arre,” declared Jimmie. “Doan’t
I just remember that we wint till the door
ivery two minutes to say if the inemy would
be sphyin’ around in the hall.”

“But there was no sign of them, you also
remember that?” observed Jack, quickly.

“Niver a wan,” Jimmie hastened to reply.

“Then it would stand to reason that they
didn’t overhear us talking. I know you
couldn’t in the next room, for I’ve been in
there during recitation, and the wall is dead.
I only mention this, because that same day,
after I left the rest of you down-town, I found
that I’d forgotten a book I needed to study,
and hurried back to the school. And I met
Clarence coming along the street. He said
he had been kept in by Miss Stryker to do a
task. But it looks as though the leak could not
have been at that time.”

“Somebody must have talked in their
sleep,” suggested Josh, humorously.

“Perhaps some one in the post office got on
to Jack receiving a letter from Clayton, and
writing there,” Herb put in.

“Well, now,” remarked Jack, “there may
be something in that idea; though just now I
can’t think of anybody in the post office who
would be that mean. I know all the clerks,
and none of them have ever been thick with
either Clarence or Joe.”

“Suppose we give the matter a rest,” said
Herb, with an uneasy look toward Nick; for
the fat boy was to be his partner during the
coming cruise, and he feared lest Buster would
get to brooding on the unjust suspicions that
had been directed toward him, with the result
that he must be forever speaking about it, and
suggesting the most astonishing explanations
of the riddle.

“Agreed,” Jack replied, readily, falling in
with the idea. “After all, the coming of these
fellows may add some spice to our trip, who
knows.”

It certainly did, as will be made manifest
shortly; but just then none of the motor boat
boys suspected what a strange series of exciting
adventures was to be their portion, all
through the decision of their rivals to choose
the same cruising grounds for their summer
outing, and to be as malicious and troublesome
as possible.

Nick seemed to have thrown aside the temporary
gloom that had fallen upon him, because
of the unjust suspicions of his mates.
He was naturally so cheery that trouble and
he could never hitch up together for any great
length of time.

“If those two cronies do chase after us,” he
said, “perhaps the long standing trouble between
Joe and myself may be settled. You
know we’ve been growling at each other for
going on a year now. And some day there’ll
be a surprise due him.”

When Nick talked in that vein the others
knew he was himself again, and ready to joke.
So Jack, pretending to be surprised, went on
to remark:

“Why, Buster, do you mean to say you’d
pick on that poor fellow, who has never been
able to whip more than three boys at a time
in all his life? I’m surprised to hear you talk
so savagely.”

“Oh! well, the thing is brooding, and bound
to come off some day. Bully Joe will go just a
little too far, and get his. Why, there was
one time, not so long ago either, when I’d just
about made up my mind to lick him for keeps.
And I give you my word, fellows, I’d have
wiped up the ground with him, only that I
was grabbed from behind and held back!”

“Wow! listen to the war chief, would you?”
exclaimed Josh, pretending to shrink away
from the belligerent fat boy, who was doubling
up his pudgy fists, and assuming a warrior’s
pose.

“He’s sure got on his fighting togs today!”
echoed Herb, soothingly.

“Say, Buster,” remarked George, when
Jack nudged him in the side, “tell us who
was so mean as to grab you that way, and
hold you back!”

“Shucks! I just knew you’d never rest till
you asked that!” cried the other, as he pretended
to show disgust. “Why, that was Joe,
don’t you see!”

At that there was a howl; and Jimmie
doubled up like a jack-knife in the violence
of his merriment.

“I can see Joe’s finish, if he keeps on trying
such tricks,” whooped George.

“Oh!” Buster went on, in a calm manner,
“I’ll try and be as easy with him as any one
could expect. Perhaps after he’s had one
good lesson, Joe may reform. It’s keeping
bad company that’s been his downfall. Clarence
Macklin has oodles of money; and his
dad used to be a sporty sort of a Wall street
man they say, when he lived east; so he don’t
care much what his hopeful does, so long as
he keeps out of jail.”

“Well, if he goes on much longer the way
he has, I reckon he’ll land there after a bit,”
Herb remarked, soberly; for he had suffered
on several occasions at the hands of the vindictive
Clarence, as was well known to his
chums.

“All right,” Jack put in. “And now, if
there’s nothing further before the house, I
move we adjourn. For one I know I’m as
hungry as a bear, and ready to tackle a good
dinner after all that hot work on the diamond.”

“Dinner!” exclaimed Buster, whose one
weak point lay in his love of eating. “Wow!
don’t you remember what bully good meals
we had when we all got together on that dandy
Mississippi trip, and Josh here slung the pots
and pans? He’s sure the best cook in seven
counties. I hear he’s getting up a book on
camp dinners. And right now I subscribe for
the first copy that’s printed; if it don’t cost
over ten cents.”

“Just you wait,” returned Josh, with one
of his wide grins. “It won’t be long now
before you’ll have to get up and hustle the
tin pans and things, whenever you have that
longing for grub steal over you. No sitting
down to the table and cleaning up everything
in sight for you then. It’s work before you
can eat. Herb is going to keep you down to
brass tacks, ain’t you Herb?”

“Oh! Buster and myself expect to get on
first rate,” the one addressed hastened to say;
for Herb was a lover of peace. “I’m ready
to pitch in and help him out on occasion.
Everything is going to be lovely, and the goose
hang high, aboard the good, staunch old
*Comfort*, when we sail the stormy waters of
the St. Lawrence, eh, Buster?”

“Well,” remarked Josh, as he started away,
“anyhow, I’m glad you’ve decided to give our
friend Buster the upper berth!”

A shout followed after him, and the last
glimpse he had of the fat boy, Buster was
shaking both fists in his direction, and pretending
to display tremendous rage, though
secretly chuckling with good-natured laughter.
Happy the boy who is so constituted that he
can in the best of humor take a joke that is
leveled at himself; and that was Nick Longfellow
to a dot.

The rest of the bunch soon scattered, as
their homes lay in various directions; and this
particular corner usually served as a gathering
point as well as the place where they
separated.

Jack may have allowed the mystery of the
suspected “leak” to crop up in his active
mind from time to time after that; but he
knew just how sensitive Buster really felt
over it, and he always religiously refrained
from ever introducing the subject.

Some of the other boys of course must have
discussed it as the days slowly passed; but
they too seemed desirous that their fat chum
might not have his feelings further injured,
and nothing was said in his presence. But all
the same Buster did not forget, as Herb was
fated to learn to his sorrow.

CHAPTER III—A CHANCE CLEW
=========================

“Why, hello Jack!”

It was the first day of vacation, and being
at the tail end of the week, the motor boat
club had wisely decided to defer their departure
until the following Monday morning,
when they would say goodbye to the home
town, and start across the state for Milwaukee.

The speaker was no other than Clarence
Macklin; and Jack had come face to face with
his bitter enemy upon the main street of the
town, as he passed out from a shop where he
had been making a little purchase.

Clarence was smiling, after his usual manner;
but there was always something crafty
about this look of his that made most boys
suspicious. Had he been given his choice in
the matter Jack would have passed on with
a mere nod; for he did not believe in pretending
to show anything like friendliness toward
this tricky lad, who had once tried to get into
the motor boat club, and been blackballed, a
fact he had vowed to get even for if it took
him a year.

But Clarence evidently had a reason for
wishing to talk with the other. He even thrust
himself squarely in Jack’s way; and the latter
saw no reason why he should avoid an encounter.

“Well,” continued Clarence, “I suppose
you fellows are in high feather, now that vacation
has come, and you can break away?”

“Sure we are,” replied Jack, trying to seem
good-natured; though secretly he was wondering
what the other had concealed up his sleeve,
and why he insisted on stopping him in this
way; for it happened that just a day or so
before Jack had been reading that good old
precept of warning, to “Beware of the Greeks
bearing gifts.”

“And I suppose, also, you mean to get away
soon?” Clarence went on.

“Monday sees us off, unless something we
don’t look for detains us,” was Jack’s response,
as he watched the play of emotions on
the face of the other, and noted how the pretense
of friendliness was fading away.

“Well,” Clarence suddenly burst out with,
“I just wanted to let you know what me and
Joe Brinker think of your sly trick in finding
out where we meant to go this summer, and
then arranging to copy after us! It was just
what I’d expect such low-down sneaks as
Herb Dickson and George Rollins to do; but
I am surprised to know how you fell in with
such a dirty game, that’s what!”

Really, Jack never had a greater shock in
all his life than when Clarence said this. It
seemed to almost take his very breath away.

“Now, do you know, Clarence,” he said,
steadily, watching that sarcastic face, “the
shoe seems to be on the other foot with us. To
tell the truth, we’ve been believing all this time
that you’d copied after us. In fact, poor
Buster has been suspected of giving our
secrets away, not intentionally, of course, just
because he was seen talking with you. Queer,
ain’t it, how great minds often run in the same
channel; and both of us thought of going to
the St. Lawrence this summer.”

“Aw! now you’re just trying to crawl out of
a hole,” the other sneered. “But you needn’t
think you can spoil our summer fun for us,
if you are six to two. I told my dad about it,
and he advised me to go on, regardless. Just
make up your minds to keep clear of Joe and
me, if you know what’s good for you!”

Even while the other was saying this there
suddenly flashed upon Jack’s mind the true
reason for his being held up in this way by
“Tricky Clarence,” as young Macklin had
come to be known among the boys of the town.

He wanted to rub it into Jack, and exult
in the consternation which he expected his
declaration would cause in the other’s mind.
But there was undoubtedly something more
than this. If trouble did follow the meeting
of the rivals among the many channels of the
Thousand Islands, Clarence wished to make
it appear that he and Joe were the aggrieved
parties, and that they had been actually set
upon by the members of the motor boat club,
who had a grudge against them of long
standing.

It was a clever bit of sharp practice, worthy
of a shyster lawyer. Perhaps Clarence may
have inherited some of the shifty trickery by
which his respected father had laid the foundation
to his big fortune in the wilds of Wall
street.

But Jack had no desire to stand there and
enter into a wordy war with Clarence, who
had a ready tongue, and never cared very
much where it led him.

So instead of taking up the challenge, as
Clarence doubtless wanted him to, Jack simply
elevated his eyebrows, and remarked:

“Oh! is that so? Well, I’m going to tell
you just one thing for good and all, Clarence.
Neither myself, nor any one of the club, want
to set eyes on you or Joe; and if it rests with
us, we’ll not run across each other all summer.
But, understand me,” and his eyes flashed
dangerously, “we mean to strike back, and if
there’s trouble it will have to be of your seeking.
You can have all you want of it. Now,
that’s enough. I’m done talking.”

Clarence hardly knew what to say. He
looked at the other as though tempted to blurt
out the ugly things he had passing through
his mind. But somehow he realized that it
would not be safe pressing Jack Stormways
too far. He was not the fighter Bully Joe had
always been; for as a rule he managed to get
some one else to carry out his battles for him.
And Jack looked really dangerous just then.

“Pooh! words come cheap with some fellows,”
he muttered, as he turned away. “But
you’ll find they cut no figure with my partner
and me. As to our keeping away from any
particular spot you chumps choose to patronize,
that for your silly warning,” and he
derisively snapped his fingers, for he was now
twenty feet away.

Jack held himself in with an effort. He
felt in a humor to have given the exasperating
Clarence the drubbing he deserved; but it
would hardly be nice to create such a disturbance
of the public peace so soon before they
expected to leave home. If it seemed fated
that he must teach this contemptible fellow
the lesson he so richly deserved it might be
wise to wait until they were far away from
the town where they lived.

He was looking after the departing Clarence
when he saw him take out his handkerchief
to wipe his forehead, for the day was
warm.

Something fell to the ground, something
that, even at that distance reminded Jack of a
yellow telegram blank. He could just as well
walk from the sporting goods store in the
direction Clarence had gone as any other way.
And it was his full intention to call after the
other, if the paper seemed worth while.

So, in this spirit Jack bent down and
secured possession of the crumpled yellow
paper.

Just as he had expected it was a telegraph
blank, written on but not signed. It seemed
to be a message that some one had started,
and upon making a mistake in the wording
had crammed in his pocket while he started
afresh.

That some one, of course, could only be
Clarence, since the paper had fallen to the
ground at the time he took out his handkerchief.

Ordinarily Jack would not have been guilty
of looking at a telegraph message that had
come into his possession under such circumstances.
It seemed excusable now. Clarence
was a secret enemy, and had been plotting to
make trouble for the members of the motor
boat club that had declined to allow him and
Bully Joe membership.

And the very first glimpse he had of the
writing gave him a thrill; for he read the
address, which was:

“Jared Fullerton, Clayton, N. Y.”

On the spur of the moment Jack changed
his mind. Instead of calling out after the departing
Clarence, and notifying him that he
had dropped something, Jack just crammed
the yellow paper in his pocket, and wheeling,
strode away.

He was considerably excited, and eager to
learn what sort of communication the other
could be sending to Clayton that required the
use of the wires. And as he walked hurriedly
away, with his nerves on edge, he half expected
to hear Clarence shouting after him, demanding
the return of his property.

“I never would be guilty of doing such a
thing,” Jack was saying to himself, on account
of the mean feeling he had, “only that sometimes
it’s just necessary to fight fire with fire.
If I’m wrong in my suspicions then there’s
no harm done. But I must know what he’s
telegraphing to Clayton. Who Jared Fullerton
is I don’t know from Adam; but I bet
he’s cut from the same pattern Clarence and
Joe were.”

By then Jack had turned a corner. Unable
to withstand the temptation any longer, he
looked around to make sure Clarence was not
in sight; and then drawing out the crumpled
piece of paper, read what had been written
on the blank.

“Glad to hear boat arrived, and is such a
corker. I’m bringing that hundred with me,
and hope you’ve earned it before we arrive.
Don’t get in trouble for——”

Apparently Clarence did not like the way
that last sentence looked, for he had started to
change it several times. Then, thinking he
had better write the whole message over again,
he had doubtless thrust the first draft into his
pocket, and entirely forgotten it.

Jack read it over twice, and looked grave.

“Now what that snake’s up to, I’d give
something to know,” he said to himself, as he
started to walk on, after placing the message
away in his pocket. “Some sort of dirty
scheme has been mentioned in a letter, and he’s
meaning to pay this Fullerton for doing the
thing. What could it be? He says it’s to be
done before he and Joe get there. A hundred
dollars is a lot of money. Oh! I wonder could
he mean to have this other scamp injure our
boats in some way?”

It was a dreadful suspicion that beset him
right then. How easy for any one to put a
lighted match to the canvas tarpaulins that
covered the three boats on the steamer’s dock
at Clayton. Why, they might be either entirely
ruined, or else so badly injured as to be
useless for the whole season.

Would Clarence be equal to conspiring to do
such a serious thing as this? Jack was sorry
to admit that he believed the other was not
past it in the least. He had known him to
play pranks that savored of the criminal before
now; and it had always been his rich
father’s money and influence that had saved
Clarence from getting the punishment he so
richly deserved.

Obeying a sudden inspiration Jack turned
and chased back to the railroad station where
the telegraph office was located. He knew
that the strict orders of the operating company
would prevent his seeing the message
that Clarence had finally given in, unless they
were compelled to show it by a decree of the
court. But Jack had no desire to go that
deeply just then.

He knew the operator quite well, a young
fellow who also sold tickets.

“Clarence Macklin was in here sending a
message to Clayton, New York, wasn’t he,
Bert?” he asked, trying not to appear at all
excited.

“Yes, that’s so, Jack,” came the reply from
the agent; who was really an admirer of the
young high school pitcher.

“How long ago was that—could I find him
in town now, do you think?”

Note how cleverly this question was framed;
and the operator fell into the trap without
even a suspicion that he was yielding up valuable
information.

“I reckon you might,” he said, promptly,
“because he went out of here not more than
fifteen minutes ago, after sending his message.
Start on Monday, I hear, Jack? Well, I only
wish I was along. You fellows do have the
best times going; while some of the rest of us
have to keep our noses to the grindstone.
Good luck to you all, and a bully trip on the
river,” for Jack, having picked up all the information
he wanted, had turned abruptly on
his heel and was leaving the station.

That settled it, then. Clarence had sent a
message to the unknown Jared Fullerton, that
was presumably along the same lines as the
one he had first started. And doubtless that
individual would be only too glad to try and
earn his hundred-dollar fee before Clarence
and Joe arrived.

Since none of the motor boat boys would be
in Clayton to be injured, the only way in
which he could do anything would be to scheme
to bring some miserable catastrophe upon the
precious motor boats that had arrived and
were waiting to be claimed by their young
owners at the steamboat docks.

It was surely a time for quick thinking, and
action, unless they wished to take the chances
of having their whole summer outing spoiled.

And Jack, as he hurried home, was laying
out a plan of campaign in his mind calculated
to outwit the miserable plotting of the reckless
Clarence and his equally unscrupulous crony,
Bully Joe.

CHAPTER IV—BLOCKING A SLY MOVE
==============================

“Is that you, Jack?”

“No other. Say, George, can you come
over here at once?” asked the boy who was
at the other end of the telephone wire; and
there was that in his voice to arouse the interest
of George Rollins to fever heat.

“Why, sure I can. My wheel is handy,
and you’ll see me drop in on you inside of a
jiffy. But what’s the row, Jack; no bad news
about our boats I hope? They haven’t been
dropped overboard in the middle of Lake
Erie, and sunk?”

“Oh, nothing half so bad; but I must see
you,” Jack went on saying. “And George,
start some of the rest along too, won’t you?”

“Buster and Josh are on my way, and if
they’re home I’ll jolly both into coming.
But you’d better try to poke out Herb over
the wire,” came the reply.

“I will. So-long, George. Get a move on
you now. Important!”

Then Jack put up the receiver, to sever
connection; although a moment later he was
asking Central to give him the Dickson house.
By great good luck Herb happened to be up
in his den, doing some packing; for this was
the last day he would have at home saving
Sunday, and he was a very careful fellow.

After hearing the “call of the wild,” as
Jack expressed it, Herb consented to head for
the Stormways domicile without any delay.
He, too, made use of his wheel to cover the
intervening distance; and quite a bunch of
boys drew up in the yard about the same time.

Jack and Jimmie met them at the side door.

“Now, what under the sun has he got hold
of, fellows?” queried George, nervously, as
they filed up to Jack’s snug den; for the serious
expression on the faces of Jack and Jimmie
gave him considerable concern.

Nick was puffing like a steam engine. The
little rush had winded him more or less; but
at the same time he also looked anxious. For,
as they were on the eve of starting out on their
anticipated summer vacation, this sudden
summons to headquarters gave him a shock.

“I only hope it ain’t anything about the
boats,” he remarked plaintively, as he dropped
down in a capacious chair that just suited his
stout figure to a dot, and was hence invariably
appropriated by Buster every time he came
to see Jack.

“Well,” remarked Jack, “I might as well
admit right in the start that it does concern
our three motor boats.”

“Don’t tell me that any tragedy has happened
to ’em, Jack?” pleaded George, who
was known to have a great affection for his
*Wireless*, even though the cranky speed boat
did seem to delight in playing many cruel
tricks upon its skipper.

“No, not yet, I believe,” came the answer.

“Good! You make me feel better already,
Jack!” exclaimed George.

“But hold on!” cried Herb; “you noticed
that he said ‘not yet,’ didn’t you, boys? Don’t
you see what that means? The boats are in
danger; ain’t that so, Jack?”

“I’ve pretty good reason to believe so,”
replied the owner of the den; and then he
whipped out the crumpled telegraph blank.
“Here, read that, fellows, and tell me what
you think. It fell from the pocket of Clarence
Macklin not half an hour ago. And I
understand that he sent off a message along
these lines, after he had changed the wording
a little.”

Eagerly four heads were clustered above
the yellow paper which he had smoothed out
on the chess table. Clarence wrote a plain
hand, so that there was no trouble in making
out every word.

“Well, wouldn’t that knock you?” gasped
Nick, who had as yet failed to entirely recover
his wind after his quick passage on his wheel
to Jack’s home, followed by the climb up two
lights of stairs to the attic den.

“Jack, you’re right; he means our boats!”
ejaculated Herb, with a trace of indignation
and horror in his voice.

“Oh! the miserable skunk, what wouldn’t
I give for the fun of punching his head for
him. Just wait, the chance will come some
fine day. Let them dare do anything to
my bully little *Wireless*! Why, Jack, they
could be sent to prison for a long term if they
destroyed the boats.”

Of course that was Skipper George, whose
father being a lawyer, visions of the stern
hand of justice were always cropping up in
the boy’s mind.

“The way I look at it is this,” Josh went
on, deliberately; “Clarence has a crony in
Clayton, some fellow he knows by the name
of Jared Fullerton. Seems to me I’ve heard
him mention that name, too, though I don’t
remember anything about him. But he’s
meaning to hire this chap to do something
worth an even hundred. Fellows, we can give
a quick guess that something has to do with
our three boats, which by now must be lying
on the steamboat dock there, waiting for us
to arrive.”

“You hit the nail on the head that time,
Josh,” declared Jack. “And I’ve asked you
all to come here so we could talk the matter
over, and decide what ought to be done.”

An animated discussion followed. Some
suggested one thing, which was debated *pro*
and *con*; then another new idea would crop
up, which they eagerly seized upon, being
deeply concerned about the safety of the precious
craft.

“Whatever do you suppose that sneak of a
Fullerton could do, to put our craft out of the
running?” asked Nick, finally.

“Well, he might accidentally drop a lighted
match under the tarpaulin cover of one. You
know it would flame up pretty quick, and
might set the whole bunch going like a pack
of fire-crackers,” Josh observed.

“Well, I hardly think any one would take
such chances at that,” Jack remarked; “because,
you see, they are lying on a public dock,
and if a big fire resulted it would mean the
penitentiary for Jared. But no matter, if a
fellow only happened to be mean enough he
could find lots of ways to injure boats like
ours. And for one, I don’t propose to take
the chances.”

“Tell us your plan, Jack; we’ll stand by
you,” cried Buster.

“All right,” said the other, quickly; “then
listen. I propose that George and myself go
and see his father, and ask his advice. You
fellows make yourselves at home here; and
after we’ve got things going we’ll come back
to report. How does that strike you?”

“I say yes!” Josh hastened to cry.

As the others were of the same mind, Jack
and George hurried away. It being Saturday
morning, George knew that his father would
not be very busy at his law office and could
easily spare them a little time.

They found Judge Rollins without any
client, which Jack considered lucky, since
haste was an element in their calculations just
now. And after he had heard the whole story,
scanned the incriminating telegraph blank,
and asked numerous questions, the lawyer
smiled, and said he was ready to give his
advice.

“Here is the address of a party I know in
Clayton, and whose name just came to me
while you were talking, Jack,” he observed.
“Try and get him on the long distance phone,
and explain the circumstances to him as you
have to me. I feel sure that if you can reach
Amos Spofford everything will be all right.”

Accordingly the two lads immediately
hustled around to the central station of the
telephone company, where they could use the
long distance phone to better advantage than
in a drug-store.

Having the local number of the party to
whom the judge had referred them, Jack, who
had taken it upon himself to do the talking,
because George was apt to get excited, and
splutter in a way that might interfere with
the carrying of his message to such a long
distance, asked to be connected with the
Clayton office.

Of course, there was more or less delay, as
usual, and the two boys became quite nervous
before there finally came a faint call.

When Jack learned that it was really Mr.
Spofford who was at the other end of the wire,
he started to explain that it was Judge Rollins
who had told the boys to get in touch with
the Clayton man.

Then as briefly as possible, for time was
valuable, he told about the trouble, and what
they feared might happen. Happily, the man
to whom he was talking seemed capable of
seizing on facts, and building a plan of campaign
instantly.

“Telegraph the agent of the steamboat
Company to let me have the boats. I happen
to know him very well—his name is James
Matthews. Then forget all about the matter,
boys. Depend on me! Your boats will be
guarded, day and night, every minute of the
time until you arrive. That is all. Goodbye!”

“Hurrah for Amos!” exclaimed George
when his chum had related what the man in
Clayton had said. “He’s all to the good!
That was a bright thought of yours, Jack,
when you suggested going to ask my father’s
advice!”

“But let’s get back to the others,” laughed
Jack, as they paid the bill and left the telephone
office; “for they’ll be burning up with
anxiety to know what’s going on.”

“Yes,” grinned George, now as happy and
light-hearted as he had previously been
gloomy, and oppressed with fears. “By now
poor Buster will have lost a pound or two in
weight. He’s the greatest fellow ever to fret
over things.”

At that Jack fairly shouted.

“I know another of the same breed, George,
and you can’t deny it,” he said.

“Oh! well, what’s the use?” admitted the
other. “I know I do see mountains often, that
turn out to be ant hills when you get up close.
But I’m feeling particularly jolly right now.
Bully for Amos. Won’t we shake him by the
hand till he yells out for mercy. His name will
be emblazoned on the annals of our St. Lawrence
cruise as the best friend the motor boat
club had, barring none.”

Of course, they were set upon as soon as
they entered the den in the top story of the
Stormways home, and made to tell what had
happened. When the balance of the club
learned how neatly a spoke had been put
in the wheel of Clarence, they voted thanks
to Mr. Edison for all he had done in the
interests of modern science.

And it can be set down as positive that those
lads spent a much more healthy Sunday than
would have been the case had their minds still
wrestled with the problem of what the mysterious
message sent by Clarence stood for.

Then came the final morning when they
were scheduled to leave the home town, headed
for the far distant Clayton, to begin their summer
vacation.

A score and more of boys were at the station
to see them depart, besides those persons
who constituted the various families of the
club members. Their baggage was properly
seen to, and then the last goodbyes said. Clarence
and his crony, Joe Brinker, came sauntering
along, and stood watching the passing
of the expedition.

“He can’t just help grinning all the time,”
Buster said aside to Herb, as they were waiting
at the car steps for Jack and George, still
talking with a group of friends.

“Sure he is,” replied George, looking out
of the corner of his eye, “and every little while
he says something to Bully Joe that tickles
him to beat the band. But we can afford to
keep quiet, because we happen to know how
the game is going. I’m putting my faith in
Amos right along; he’s going to make good.”

“But why ain’t Clarence and Joe starting,
too?” demanded Nick at this juncture.

“Oh! they’re too sly for that, you see,”
George replied, knowingly, his lawyer blood
standing him in good stead. “Like as not
they’ve got through tickets right through
Chicago, while we stop over in Milwaukee.
And even if they slip away this afternoon they
could get to Clayton as soon as we do.”

“There’s the conductor calling ‘all aboard!’
We’re off, fellows!” cried Buster, as he started
to climb up the steps of the car, an operation
that required more labor on his part than in
the case of more agile lads.

The entire bunch grouped on the last platform
of the parlor car at the end of the train,
and as they pulled out, waved their hats in
salute to the cheering of the crowd at the
station.

Faster went the train, and presently a turn
hid the home town from the sight of the six
vacationists. If any of them felt badly over
parting from loved ones they succeeded in
concealing the fact as they passed inside to
take their seats, and while looking from the
windows at new scenes, lay delightful plans
concerning the glorious time they anticipated
would be their portion when they got fully
started on their St. Lawrence river cruise.

CHAPTER V—THE GUARDIAN OF THE FLEET
===================================

“Well, here’s the steamboat dock, all right;
but I don’t see anything of our boats!”
exclaimed George, as he and his five chums
came to a full stop close to the local office of
the lake line running to Buffalo, Milwaukee
and Chicago.

“Oh! dear me, I hope we don’t have trouble,
after all,” started Nick.

“Here, let up on that misery whine, Buster.
Will you ever learn never to squeal till you’re
hurt?” said Josh.

“Well, if you’d lost as much flesh as I have
lately, you’d be a nervous wreck too,” replied
the fat boy, aggressively.

“If I’d lost all you say you have, there
wouldn’t be anything more of me left than a
grease spot, and that’s right!” grinned Josh.

“What shall we do, Jack?” and Herb turned
to the one upon whom they usually depended
to steer them clear of the shoals.

“Well, here’s the office right handy,” replied
Jack, smiling. “Suppose we crowd inside,
and make the agent give up some information.
He ought to know what’s happened
to our boats, because we understood they got
here safe.”

“A bully idea, Jack; you’re the goods when
it comes to doing the right thing!” Josh
remarked.

Accordingly they fell in line, and rushed into
the little office, where a gentlemanly fellow,
who was working at some freight accounts, in
his shirt sleeves, because of the heat of the
day, glanced up in more or less surprise.

“We’re looking for some motor boats, sir,
that arrived on the vessel from the west. They
were billed from Milwaukee by your line.”

As Jack said this the agent smiled.

“Which one of you wired our Mr. Matthews?”
he asked.

“I did. My name is Jack Stormways,” replied
that individual.

“You gave him authority to turn the three
boats over to some party, didn’t you?”

“Yes, if that party’s name was Mr. Amos
Spofford,” Jack replied.

“All right. We gave them into his keeping.
Let me see, that was last Saturday afternoon
about one o’clock he was here,” the other
went on.

“But,” Jack remarked, blankly, “we’ve
been looking all around, and have seen no sign
of our boats on the wharf.”

“And they couldn’t have flown away like
aeroplanes,” put in Josh.

“I should hardly think so,” laughed the
other. “But have you looked beyond the end
of the dock, in the water?”

“No. Do you mean to say Mr. Spofford
had the three boats launched?” cried Jack.

“Well, there was something doing that way,
I remember, on Saturday. He had quite a
gang of men working under him. That Mr.
Spofford seems to be something of a hustler.
Over toward that point, boys.”

They were already trooping across the big
dock, as excited as any eager lads could be.
And no sooner had they reached a certain
point than a series of whoops burst from every
throat.

“There they are, fellows! Don’t they make
a bully show, though, the brave little boats?
Say, ain’t this like old times again?” cried
Nick, as he discovered the three craft anchored
close together at a point where they would
not be in the way of any steamboat landing.

“There’s somebody aboard, too!” exclaimed
Jack, as a head was poked out of the deck tent
of the *Comfort*, which was the only one of the
trio to be thus honored, the others being in
cruising trim.

“That must be Mr. Amos Spofford,” declared Herb; “and
he knows a good sleeping
boat when he sees it, too; for you notice he’s
camped in the Old Reliable.”

Jack waved his hand, and then called out.

“We’re coming aboard. Are you Mr. Spofford?”

“That’s my name. Glad to see you, boys.
Come right along. You won’t be fired into
the harbor if you try to get aboard!” came
back the answering hail.

“Gee! I wonder if that’s what happened
to Jared,” remarked Nick, as the party made
for the landing, where a rowboat could be obtained
in which to paddle out to the anchored
flotilla.

Every boy had his eyes glued on the boat
that, to his mind, represented all that was delightful.
Many a happy day and night had
they spent aboard these same craft in times
that were gone; and the future opened up possibilities
just as joyous.

One by one they climbed aboard the *Comfort*
and shook hands with the jolly old gentleman
whom they found there. None of the other
boats could have accommodated them as
readily as the big launch.

“Glad you got here safe and sound, boys.
I imagine this is Jack Stormways. Introduce
me to your chums, please, Jack. Told you not
to worry. Camped right here ever since getting
your message. Would have stayed a week
if necessary, because you see I happen to be
an old bachelor, without any family ties.
Greatest pleasure I’ve had for many a year.
Used to knock about myself, once upon a time,
before I took on flesh. And let me tell you,
lads, you’ve got the greatest little cruising outfits
here I ever set eyes on. In my day we
never knew such comforts, any more than we
did such bully boats.”

In this fashion did Mr. Amos Spofford
rattle on, for he was a great talker, and a
retired lawyer as well. He quite staggered
poor Buster by the immensity of his girth; for
he was simply *tremendous*, and no mistake.

“Gracious!” Nick whispered to Herb, when
he found the chance; “you don’t think, now,
I’ll ever get to be like that, do you, Herb? Oh,
if I thought so I’d starve myself.”

“Well, it would end your knocking about,
just as it did his, so beware!” answered the
other; and chuckled to see poor Buster shiver.

All the time they were in contact with Mr.
Amos Spofford Nick could not keep his eyes
off the wheezy old lawyer; and every now and
then he would shake his head and sigh most
dismally. It was really an awful lesson for
Buster, as Josh often declared.

“Then you’ve really enjoyed camping here
since Saturday afternoon, sir?” asked Jack,
as the party clustered around the guardian of
the motor boat fleet.

“Beyond measure,” came the quick reply.
“I haven’t let the boats go unwatched a minute
of the time. On Monday I hired a man to stay
aboard while I finished up some little business
that was pressing. Then I came back in the
afternoon with a new supply of grub, and
determined to hold the fort. Why, boys, it’s
been the happiest days of the last ten years
to me. And I’ve made up my mind that I’m
going to throw business to the dogs, have a
boat like this, only larger, built especially for
a heavy man, and take to the water. I thank
you for the opportunity you threw in my way
for this pleasure.”

“And on our part we feel that you’ve been
mighty kind to us, sir,” said Jack.

“Don’t mention it. Besides, I’m only too
glad to do something for Rube’s boy. He was
good to me once upon a time, and helped me
get back on my feet.”

“Perhaps our anxiety was all for nothing
though?” remarked George; not because he
really believed what he was saying, but hoped
it would tempt Mr. Spofford to “open up,”
and tell anything he knew.

The stout lawyer chuckled until he shook
like a bowl full of jelly. He reminded Jack of
Santa Claus around Christmas time, both with
regard to his white beard and the size of his
paunch.

“Ah! that was a chip of the old block that
spoke then,” laughed Mr. Spofford, “Rube for
all the world; and a born lawyer, too. Follow
in the footsteps of your illustrious dad,
George, and the world is yours. No, to tell the
plain, unvarnished truth, your anxiety *was*
well placed, I have reason to believe.”

He looked over the side at the water, and
chuckled again.

“It is pretty wet in there for a fact, boys,”
he said, “and when a fellow flops over with all
his clothes on, he feels kind of squeamish, I
suppose.”

“Do you mean to say, sir, that Jared Fullerton
actually attempted to come aboard in the
night, and that you dumped him into the
river?” asked Herb.

“Oh! I didn’t bother asking his name; and
so far as I know he never had the politeness to
leave one of his visiting cards behind him,”
remarked the big lawyer, still shaking, so that
the staunch old *Comfort* actually quivered in
sympathy. “In fact, to tell the truth, he was
so set upon leaving in a hurry after he discovered
that there was a tenant ahead of him,
that lots of things were sadly neglected.”

“And you threw him overboard, sir?” asked
Jack.

“That was the easiest part of it,” replied
the other, calmly. “You see I used to be a
great athlete in my day, when Rube knew me;
and the fellow wasn’t anticipating running up
against a lodger. I just gave him a neat push,
and you ought to have heard the splashing that
followed.”

“Wow! I’d have liked to, first rate!” declared
Josh, in ecstacy.

“But he managed to climb out again, of
course, Mr. Spofford?” Jack asked.

“Oh! yes, after a lot of floundering around.
I saw him climbing that spile yonder, dripping
at every move. And I’ve had no trouble
since.”

“Then we owe you a vote of thanks for helping
us out in this way,” declared George,
warmly. “Only for your guardianship something
serious would have happened to our
boats; and you can understand, sir, that they
are precious to all of us, after serving us so
well on that Mississippi cruise.”

“I want to hear all about that at the first
chance, boys. But now I’ll move out, and give
the rightful owners possession. This is a very
well named boat, Herbert. I give you credit
for knowing how to get full enjoyment out of
a trip. Now, that speed boat doubtless pleases
George, but you see it would hardly do for a
fellow of my heft. I’m going to get the builder
of this outfit to put me one up that will be a
dream, a fat man’s paradise.”

“Hold on, Mr. Spofford,” said Jack, who
knew he was voicing the sentiments of the entire
club when he spoke as he did; “we are
going to stay around here until another morning,
for we’ve got a lot to do, stowing our
stores, you know. And tonight, if you can do
so, we invite you to a little dinner, to be held
on this boat. We hope you will please us by
coming; and let me tell you we’ve got the boss
cook among us, who can tickle your palate
the best ever.”

All eyes were turned toward Josh, who got
up and gravely bowed, pushing back Buster,
who had impudently been in the act of accepting
the honor himself.

“I’ll do it on one condition, boys,” said the
lawyer, as he started to deposit his bulk in the
boat Herb was holding to the side of the
*Comfort*.

“What is that, sir?” demanded Jack.

“That you promise to read to me the log of
your last trip, when you went down the big
river; also tell me the many adventures that
I’m sure must have come your way during
those glorious weeks.”

“Done!” cried one and all, as they shook
hands with the jolly retired lawyer, and Herb
started to paddle him to the dock.

“What time is dinner hour, fellows?” sang
out Mr. Spofford, just as heartily as though
he might be one of the youngsters.

“Six sharp; but we’ll wait for you any
length of time you say, sir,” replied Jack.

“Look for me before that time; and remember,
boys, I’m a man of some size, so be
warned,” laughed the other, waving his hand.

“Oh! we know all about that, sir; because,
you see, we’ve got a shining example of the
same with us,” called Josh, motioning toward
Buster.

“That’s so; but I’m afraid you mean a
*horrible* example; for we fat fellows are to be
pitied,” floated back to their ears.

Nick sank back on his seat, looking plainly
troubled.

“Oh! my, if I thought there was any danger
of my ever getting like that I’d—I’d, well,
I don’t know what I’d do; but something
pretty desperate—skip a meal once a week,
perhaps,” he remarked to George.

The other was already trying to draw his
own boat alongside, so that he might
aboard; for naturally each skipper had
thought of the craft that was dearest to his
mind; and Herb returning, both Jack and
Jimmie used the rowboat to reach the anchored
*Tramp*.

CHAPTER VI—THE “FLASH”
======================

For an hour or more the boys were busily
engaged in rummaging.

Then they began to think about getting their
luggage aboard, as well as the necessary supplies.
Jack had his lists made out to the fraction.
Previous experience would prove of considerable
benefit to them now, since they knew
just what was most needed, and what things
to leave behind.

“I say, Jack!” called George, across the
scant space that separated their boats.

“Hello! what is it?” asked the skipper of
the *Tramp*, looking up.

“We’ve all been so busy we haven’t thought
to look around,” remarked George; “and consequently
missed seeing that dandy craft lying
off there a couple of hundred yards. Nobody
seems to be aboard, as far as I’ve noticed. My!
but ain’t she a beaut, though? Such graceful
lines. I warrant she can just skim the water,
and make you *dizzy* watching her. Do you
know what struck me, Jack?”

“That this might be the swift boat Clarence
has had built, and which he said was going to
cut capers all around our fleet,” replied the
other, promptly.

“Guessed it the first shot. Am I right?”
asked George.

“Looks to me like a regular black, piratical
craft,” observed Josh. “Just notice how low
she sits in the water, would you? And there’s
something sneaky in her whole make-up. Yes,
that sort of a boat just seems to fit in with a
fellow like Clarence Macklin, ‘Sneaky Clarence,’
you remember.”

“There’s a name in gold letters on her bow,
but I can’t quite make it out. Here, Buster,
just hand me my glasses, will you?”

A minute later George, having adjusted the
marine glasses to his sight, gave utterance to a
low whistle.

“I’ve got the name all right, fellows,” he
remarked, “and what d’ye think it is? Just
the plain word *‘Flash.’* I guess that stands
for speed all right.”

“It also stands for what Clarence and Bully
Joe represent,” Herb observed.

Often, as they busied themselves during the
balance of that day, George’s eyes would
wander toward that long, narrow boat that sat
upon the heaving water with the grace of a
black swan from Australia. George believed
he could see the times when it would be nip and
tuck between the *Flash* and his own hitherto
unbeaten *Wireless*; and he confessed that perhaps
the boast of the rival of the motor boat
boys might not have been without reasonable
foundation.

Knowing how many times they must go
ashore before the stores and supplies were all
aboard, the motor boat boys realized that it
would be a saving of time if they raised anchor,
and moored alongside the dock.

This was accordingly done. As noon had
come, they went in detachments to the nearest
hotel, and secured a meal; after which their
baggage was taken aboard. Then, leaving the
others to stow it away, as on the previous
cruise, Jack, Herb and George went into town
to purchase what their long list called for.

Nick called out after them three times, begging
them on each occasion to be sure and not
forget a certain thing of which he happened to
be particularly fond. Josh poked a whole lot
of fun at the fat boy, and warned him to beware
lest he equal the enormous girth of Mr.
Amos in a short time if he did not curb that
tremendous appetite.

“Oh! don’t you fret about that,” Nick answered.
“In good time I expect to gradually
cut down my rations until I become as skinny
as you. Then, like enough, I’ll want to jump
overboard and end it all.”

That was always Nick’s way—*tomorrow* he
meant to start in regulating his diet; but as
usual with those who put off the evil day, tomorrow
never seemed to come.

That was a busy afternoon with them all.

Jack saw to it that the eatables were put up
in three separate packages all around, so that
they could be handed over to the several boats
without division. This helped wonderfully,
for there was no choosing, and no ill feeling because
one happened to get a better looking
assortment than the others.

“It’s near stopping time, fellows!” called
Nick, as he squatted on a seat, like a big toad,
Josh said, and wiped the perspiration from his
rosy face.

“Well, I guess everything’s ready,” added
Jack.

“Ditto here,” came from Herb. “And Josh
is already rustling the kettles, as if he meant
business. So I move we pull out again and
anchor. When the gent comes we can get him
aboard with the help of this rowboat he hired
for us.”

That sort of talk seemed to satisfy every
one; and accordingly they set about working
the motor boats to the positions they had occupied
previously, at the time their mudhooks
were down.

Then began great preparations for a feast.
Both the other boats handed over their several
batteries for cooking. Their previous experience
had taught George and Herb a lesson,
so that they had discarded their cumbersome
oil lamps, and now each rejoiced in a fine new,
brass Jewel gas oil-stove, of the same reliable
German brand as that which Jack carried
when on the famous Mississippi trip, now but
a fond memory.

And they were surely a busy lot, every one
working under the directions of the head *chef*.
Josh might play second, and even third fiddle,
many times; but when it came to cooking he
was right there, as he himself said, “with the
goods.” Some boys may seem gifted in one
way, and a comrade shine in another; it was
the privilege of Josh Purdue to be a natural
born cook. He could throw together the most
appetizing dishes with apparently little effort.
Everything he touched had a decidedly delightful
taste. And even Buster admitted that
he stood without a peer, monarch of all he
surveyed.

So it came about that when Mr. Spofford arrived
on the dock, and was ferried across by
Herb, he found some mighty fine odors wafting
hither and thither.

“My goodness!” he said, as he sniffed vigorously,
“I hope dinner won’t be long delayed,
boys, because you’ve just got me keyed up to
a desperate pitch, with all these joyful smells
afloat.”

“Ready right now, sir!” sang out Josh, who
had donned a snow-white baker’s muslin cap,
which he had fetched along with the intention
of coaxing Buster to wear, when engaged in
his culinary tasks.

They were a jolly crowd gathered in the
roomy *Comfort*, and discussing the glorious
dinner prepared under the direction of the
head *chef*.

“Josh, you haven’t forgotten how,” observed
Jack, as he started in on the savory
mess piled up on his pannikin.

“Which pleases me a whole lot,” said
George; “because you see, Mr. Spofford, on
this trip Josh sails with me in my *Wireless*.”

“Alas! poor Josh! I see his finish. These
are funeral meats, fellows,” giggled Buster,
already warmly engaged.

And so they laughed and joked as the meal
progressed. Mr. Amos was as merry as any
one of the six boys. Again he seemed carried
back to the days when he loved this sort of
life; and many times did they hear him declare
positively:

“You’ve opened up the fount that has been
closed for many years, boys. And after this
it’s me for the free life and the fresh air. Perhaps
that may reduce my overabundant flesh
somewhat. Anyway, it will delight my heart.
Away with dull care; and from this time on
I’m going to study Nature again! And I have
you to thank for opening my eyes. It was a
lucky day my old friend Rube thought of me,
and put his boy in touch with Amos Spofford.”

“Perhaps you’d like to go out a few days,
sir, with us,” remarked Herb, quite overwhelmed
by the cordial ways of the retired
lawyer. “This boat is roomy, you see, and we
might get along. The only difficulty would
be about sleeping quarters.”

Poor Nick held his breath in suspense.
If so be Mr. Spofford accepted, he believed
he saw his finish. But the other only laughed
heartily.

“That’s awfully kind of you, Herb, but I
couldn’t think of accepting,” he said; and
Nick breathed easy again. “When I go out, I
shall have a boat that is suited to my heft.
Every time I move here, something seems to
groan, and threaten to give way. I guess you
will have all you can manage with my friend,
Buster.”

And after the hearty meal was finished they
made themselves as comfortable as possible,
while Jack read the official log of the other
cruise, for the particular benefit of Mr. Amos.

The latter asked a thousand questions, and
in this way managed to get a comprehensive
history of all the stirring adventures that had
fallen to their lot between their home town
on the great river and the Crescent City.

It was quite late when he left them, giving
to each a squeeze of the hand that would not
soon be forgotten.

“If I can only find a boat suited to my size,
boys,” he said, as he left them; “I’m going
to get afloat this very season. But at any rate
another year will find me fully prepared for
the season, with the greatest motor boat you
ever struck. Goodbye, you fine and dandy
fellows! My heart will be with you all along.
Think of me sometimes, won’t you, Buster?”

He chuckled as he fancied he heard a hollow
groan from Nick; as if the memory of Mr.
Spofford’s tremendous girth could ever long
leave the troubled mind of the fat boy.

A quiet night followed. Jack advised that
they keep on the alert, lest some peril drop
in upon them; but fortunately his fears were
not realized, and morning coming found the
little fleet all serene.

“Look, there he is!” said Nick, as they
were gathered on the *Comfort* enjoying one of
Josh’s little spreads, that included some of
the lightest flapjacks ever put before hungry
campers.

“Clarence, as sure as anything!” ejaculated
Herb.

“And wasn’t I right about that boat?”
asked Jack. “You can see he’s meaning to
go out to it right now. But one good thing,
we’ll be likely to have twenty-four hours’
start of them. And on these broad waters
they may have some trouble looking us up.”

“There’s Bully Joe, too,” remarked George.
“See him look over this way and scowl! Somehow
the sight of our gallant little fleet doesn’t
seem to please Mr. Brinker a whole lot. He’d
be better satisfied if he could only set eyes on
them awash, with their decks level with the
water.”

Clarence did not seem to glance once toward
the three motor boats. A third party joined
them, and it was not hard for Jack and his
friends to guess that this must be the unlucky
Jared Fullerton, whom the stalwart Mr. Spofford
had dumped into the waters of the St.
Lawrence when he attempted to board the
*Comfort* one night not so very long since.

Just as soon as they were well through with
breakfast, the motor boat boys got ready to
put out on the broad waters which were, from
now on, to serve them as a field of recreation.

Jack gave the signal, when he had learned
that both the others were ready. Immediately
there was a tremendous amount of energetic
popping, as the motors once more got into
service after their spell of idleness.

Clarence and the others aboard the long
dark boat looked after the three departing
craft; and while none of our friends bothered
waving a hand in parting, Jack could see that
the owner of the *Flash* and his crony, Bully
Joe, were talking earnestly, as though laying
some sort of plan for the near future.

He even saw Clarence pointing after them,
and then sweep his hand half way around, as
if declaring that no matter where the departing
boats might vanish, he would have little
trouble in locating them if he wanted to do so.

And to himself Jack was saying that there
could be no doubt but that Clarence, with that
vindictive, cruel disposition of his, would put
himself to almost any trouble in order to get
the laugh on those he hated so bitterly.

The sun shone brightly as they pulled out
of Clayton, and all of them believed it was a
good sign. The last they saw of the suspicious
dark boat with the contour of a river greyhound,
Clarence was still talking to his mates,
and doing a great deal of pointing.

But before them was spread as lovely a
stretch of water, with its green and rocky
islands, as ever a motor boat cruiser could
wish to see. And none of the boys believed
on that glorious July morning that they could
wish for anything finer than fortune seemed
to be placing at their feet.

CHAPTER VII—JOSH SCENTS TROUBLE
===============================

“What luck, Jack?”

It was just a week later. The three motor
boats were anchored in a little cove near one
of the numerous rocky islands that give this
part of the wide St. Lawrence river its great
reputation for summer outings.

Herb was leaning over the side of his boat,
engaged in rubbing some dingy part of the
brass railing; and Jack at the time happened
to be approaching, seated in a little dinky or
tender, which each larger boat now trailed
behind every time they made a move from one
anchorage to another; and which proved so
useful in going ashore, fishing or visiting.

“Oh! pretty fair,” replied the one who
handled the short oars, as he turned in his
seat to reach for something that lay in the
bow of the skiff. “We can have a fish dinner
tonight, anyway.”

Then he held up a monster muskalonge, that
must have weighed all of twenty pounds.

“Great Jupiter, what a sock-dollager!”
cried George, who was taking it easy in his
boat; while Nick thrust up his head to shout:

“Bully for you, Jack! Now we won’t
starve to death! The country is saved!”

“Well, I like that,” said Herb. “To hear
him talk you’d think I’d cut him down to one
meal a day, when to tell the truth he——”

“Stop right there, Mister Skipper!” cried
the fat boy, threateningly. “It’s rank treachery
to betray your boatmate to the common
enemy. But that is a dandy fish, Jack. Where
did you catch him?”

“I think in the upper jaw,” replied Jack,
solemnly, at which there was a shout.

“I see you did,” replied Nick, bending over,
“for there’s a broken hook sticking out of his
mouth right now. Ugh! look at the cruel
teeth, would you? I’d hate to let him close
his jaws on my finger. But if the gimp snell
gave way, how under the sun did you ever get
him aboard, Jack?”

“I’ll tell you,” came the calm reply. “It
happened that I had to play this old pirate for
nearly twenty minutes before I could tire him
out. You’d have laughed to see how he towed
my little punkin-seed of a boat around. But
finally he seemed all but exhausted, and I kept
reeling in until I had him right up close,
where I could bend over and touch him with
my hand.”

“Wow! you couldn’t hire me to do that
now,” exclaimed Nick, shuddering as he gazed
at that array of sharp, vicious looking teeth.

“I could see right then and there,” Jack
continued, quietly, “that the gimp had been
twisted until it was ready to break away. So
I knew I didn’t dare try to lift him aboard
by the line; and I had no gaff hook along. So
I just let my hand slide over his back until I
reached his opening and closing gills. Then I
suddenly inserted several of my fingers, and
gave a quick fling. He came aboard all right;
but the line parted. So you see, Nick, it was
a close shave for our supper, all right.”

Josh, having made sure the fierce-looking
fish was actually dead, by pounding it on the
head several times with a piece of wood,
started to get it ready for the pan. It was
really the first one of decent size that they had
thus far hooked; though several meals had
been made of small-mouth black bass, taken
either by casting, or trolling with a spoon.

“It strikes me as rather queer,” remarked
Jack, as he lay there resting, “while Jimmie
was starting to get supper for the two aboard
the *Tramp*, that so far we’ve neither seen nor
heard a thing of Clarence and Joe.”

“And haven’t we had a great old week of it
though?” George remarked. “Outside of one
stormy day the weather has been just prime;
and even my engine has given no trouble. I’m
beginning to have hopes that it’s entirely
cured of those tantrums that used to bother
me so. Or perhaps the Jonah has shifted to
your boat, Herb.”

“That ain’t fair,” called out Nick, from
some unseen place, where he was wrestling
with the cookery department, and slyly taking
peeps in his notebook as to whether salt pork
was used in frying fish, or butter. “Tell the
gentleman, Herb, that I never brought you
the least bit of bad luck. Why, we’ve been getting
along here in a perfectly harmonious way,
haven’t we?”

“Y—yes, I guess so,” replied Herb, a little
dubiously, “but I’d be a heap happier if only
you could forget that business about who
leaked, and let out our secret to the enemy.
You ding-dong about that thing morning, noon
and night. And then you turn around to Mr.
Amos, and fret your head off because you’re
afraid some day you’re going to be as much of
a whopper as he is.”

“Well,” grunted Nick, without even taking
the trouble to poke his head out, “you know
right well this is a world full of trouble,
fellows. If it wasn’t for my worrying the way
I do, just imagine how I’d be taking on flesh.
I say, Josh, do you put the salt pork on first,
and try it out, before dusting the fish in
cracker crumbs and dropping it in the frying
pan?”

It was not long before the appetizing odors
that arose around the anchorage of the motor
boat fleet announced that supper was well
under way.

One thing pleased Nick; being the cook
aboard the *Comfort* he was in a position to
prepare a sufficient quantity to suit his generous
ideas of what constituted a meal for a
healthy person’s appetite; and consequently
there was no complaint about short rations.
But when, as was inevitably the case, the *Comfort*
had to borrow from the other boats, the
powerful effect of the fat boy’s appetite became
very apparent.

“Say, Jack, did you have any particular
reason in picking out this place for our next
stop?” asked George presently.

“Why, yes, lots of them,” laughed the one
addressed. “In the first place it was an extra
big island, and situated near the Canadian
shore, you see. Then again, the place looked
kind of fishy, don’t you know; and I had an
idea we might pick up some large muskies.
From the fact that I did bring in a dandy,
first start, it seems as if my guess hit the
mark.”

“It sure did,” George went on. “But you
don’t know anything out of the way about this
heavily wooded island here, do you?”

“To be sure I don’t, since I couldn’t tell you
right now what name it is known under,”
answered Jack, who knew the other had some
object back of his questions, for George always
led up to things, and never took delight in
springing a surprise on his chums, as most of
the others would invariably do.

“I just wondered if you could know any
reason for it, that’s all,” George said.

“Reason for what? Now you’ve got me
guessing; and that’s probably just what you
wanted to do,” observed Jack. “Speak up,
and tell me what you’ve noticed.”

“Well, we seem to be objects of considerable
curiosity to some people.”

“Ashore, do you mean?” and Jack turned
his head, to glance at the frowning bank of the
big island, the grim rocks of which were
crowned with a dense growth of trees and
underbrush, so that it certainly looked rather
mysterious as the sun began to set.

“Well, no, I don’t believe any of us have
seen a living thing there, except a coon, fishing
on the edge; and a kingfisher flying from
stump to stump along the rim of the water.
But three separate times a boat has come along
just out there, and the people in her would
just stare at us without saying a single word.”

“Three, you say—the same boat and the
same people?” Jack asked.

“Not at all,” George replied. “That would
not have seemed so queer, you know; for I
could believe that they happened to have an
interest in this cove, and disliked seeing us
stop here; or else that the Canadian authorities
thought Yankees had no right to be fishing
over on their side of the broad river. It
was the same boat.”

“Three different boats, eh?” Jack mused.
“And they looked unhappy at seeing our fleet
quartered here?”

“I thought they looked mad,” Josh put in
right then, popping his head up like a jack-in-the-box;
for he still persisted in wearing that
white cap while engaged in his department of
the pots and pans.

“Were there any women or children aboard
the boats?” Jack continued.

“How about that, fellows?” asked George.

“One boat had two men, another three, and
the last one five,” Herb remarked, in his
positive way.

“And they all stood off some distance, just
looking at us. Perhaps there are thieves in
these waters, just as we found down on the
Mississippi,” Josh added.

“Maybe we’d better change our anchorage
after supper, and hunt a new place. There’s
going to be a bully moon tonight, fellows,”
from Nick, still unseen.

“Oh! I don’t think there’s any call for us
to run away—yet,” Jack laughed. “No doubt
the men were from the Canada side, and there
was some reason why they looked at our little
fleet so queerly.”

“Well,” Josh said, as if he had been worried
more or less about the matter, “I only hope
one thing; that this blessed old island ain’t
haunted, that’s all!”

Jack laughed at that, it put such a new
aspect on affairs. At the same time he could
not help thinking that superstitious Josh certainly
had some ground for allowing such an
idea to seize hold of his mind; for the island,
with its dense vegetation, and its rough shore
line, did look out of the common. No doubt,
when night dropped her blanket over the
broad river with its myriad of islands, both
large and small, this spooky place could easily
be believed to shelter uncanny things.

“Don’t give yourself any more uneasiness
on that score, Josh,” Jack urged. “If there
ever was a ghost anywhere near this place it
took wings long ago, when the thousands of
summer tourists began coming here for their
vacations. What with the big hotels, and the
hundreds of cottages perched on the islands,
small chance a poor spirit would have today.”

While he said nothing more about the three
boats with their unfriendly crews, Jack did
not entirely forget them. Perhaps there might
have been some deep reason for the strange
actions of these men. Perhaps—but then,
without any foundation for a theory, what was
the use bothering himself forming any such?

The night came on; but even while they were
eating supper a change had begun to take
place in the weather conditions. Nick’s prediction
of a beautiful moonlight night gave
promise of being far from the actual fact; for
clouds had drifted over the heavens, some of
them dark and threatening, though as yet
broken.

“We may get a storm before morning,”
observed George, looking up.

“And I wager Jack foresaw that same thing
when he picked out this cove for our anchorage,”
declared Herb. “You notice that it is
to the eastward of the island; and don’t you
see about all the storms up here come out of
the west. In that way we will be protected
against a heavy blow.”

Jack might have kept still, and allowed his
chums to heap honors on his unworthy head;
but that was not his style.

“Hold on, you’re doing me too much credit,
boys,” he observed frankly. “I took to this
cove just because it looked good to me, and
never for a minute thinking how it would serve
us in case of a blow. But just as Herb says,
we are protected here, and that’s another reason
for not changing, as Nick hinted we should
do.”

They ate supper before the dusk turned into
night, and the whippoorwills were calling
from back on the wooded island, to be answered
from the further Canada shore.

The three boats were close enough together
to allow the boys a chance to exchange any
remarks they wished.

“Better get ready in case we have a downpour
tonight,” remarked Jack, as he cast a
look upward to where the moon was just starting
to peep out from behind a threatening
bank of clouds.

“For one I’m glad I got that hole in my tent
mended in time,” observed Herb.

“Me too,” spoke up Buster, “because, you
see, it was so nicely fixed right over my poor
head. Think of a stream turned on while you
slept! Ugh! when I take my cold baths I’ll
choose my time.”

“I’ve known when you didn’t all the same,”
ventured George, chuckling.

“That’s mean of you,” Buster replied, reproachfully,
“bringing up old happenings.
Yes, I did fall overboard into the river; but
who wouldn’t, in that cranky speedy boat of
yours, shivering and jumping to beat the band.
Why, hello! what ails Josh there?”

“Yes, what are you staring so hard at,
Josh?” demanded George, turning his head.

“Didn’t any of the rest of you see it?” asked
the other, eagerly.

“See what? Are you beginning on that
ghost racket already?” insinuated Herb.

“Ghost nothing,” exclaimed Josh; “and yet
truth to tell it did glide out of sight behind the
point yonder like a phantom boat. Then the
moon went under, and I lost it again!”

CHAPTER VIII—IN THE MIDNIGHT WATCH
==================================

Everybody sat up and took notice when
Josh delivered himself after this strange fashion.
If it had been a mere glimpse of some
white object which he claimed to have seen
ashore they might have smiled, and let it go
at that. But a boat was a different proposition.
They were interested in boats; and
indeed, expecting sooner or later to be visited
by a certain dark craft, fashioned along a
piratical type.

“Where did you see it, Josh?” asked
George, hastily jumping to his feet; and
almost taking a header into the water; for his
delicately balanced speed craft did not allow
such energetic movements with impunity.

“Well, give a feller a chance, won’t you?”
grumbled the other, as he clutched the brass
railing just in time to save himself. “I’m not
in such a hurry to go after the phantom boat
as to want to *swim!* Besides,” he added, as
an afterthought, “I haven’t forgotten that
savage musky Jack brought in today. If they
hang out around this region you don’t catch
Josh Purdue doing any bathing, not much.”

“But tell us, where did you see this queer
boat that moves along as silent as a specter?”
asked Nick.

“Didn’t you get on to what I said?” continued
the other, impatiently. “Around that
point yonder it seemed to glide. I lost it in
the shadows.”

“Listen to him hedge, fellows!” cried Nick.
“Now he says it ‘seemed to glide.’ That is as
much as saying he ain’t sure whether he was
awake or dreaming.”

“I tell you the boat was there,” Josh persisted;
“and if the mean old moon hadn’t just
bobbed behind that cloud up yonder, all of
you might have had a chance to glimpse her.”

“But you had one look at her, didn’t you?”
asked Jack.

“Sure I did. And because I didn’t hear
any noise of a motor I just had to stare,” came
the ready reply.

“Was it a white pleasure boat?” continued
Jack.

“Not much. I could have seen that sort
right along, moon or no moon. I know what
you’re thinking, Jack.”

“All right. Was it a dark-colored launch,
then?” the other demanded.

“This time it’s yes—a long, low, narrow
craft, that seemed to just spin along like a
shadow itself. But I know it was a boat,
because I could see the water curling over,
where the bow cut through,” Josh went on.

“You hear that, fellows?” Jack remarked.
“And of course, you understand what it means
to us?”

“That boat was the *Flash*, and Clarence has
found us out at last?” said George; not without
a trace of eagerness in his voice; for so
well had his speed launch been behaving of
late that he was anxious to test her against the
newer craft of Clarence Macklin.

“Just like him to come sneaking around at
night to see how he can do us some rotten
injury,” grunted Nick.

“Lit him thry it, that’s all,” remarked
Jimmie, popping his head up. “I’m thinkin’
the gossoon will be sorry for it, wan way or
t’other.”

“But that means we shall have to keep
watch, doesn’t it, Jack?”

Of course it was Herb who said this, for
he might be set down as the most timid of the
six boys; though there had been times in the
past when even Herb had risen to the occasion,
to prove that he could show valor.

“No doubt about that,” returned the other,
seriously. “You know the benefit we found
in being prepared when on that trip to Dixie
land. It pays to be ready for trouble. Meeting
it half way often ends in victory. Oh!
yes, the squad will have to turn out, and take
turns tonight.”

All this had been carefully arranged beforehand.
Jack knew his crowd, and also what
little failings they might be apt to develop.
For instance, he understood that it was hardly
the part of wisdom to allow Nick to stand his
spell of sentry duty alone. However willing
the fat boy might declare himself he was apt
to be overcome by drowsiness and fall asleep
at his post.

“Think we’d better move out a bit from
the shore?” asked Josh, after they had talked
matters over for a further spell, and looked
in vain for the mysterious dark motor boat to
appear again around the point of the wooded
island.

“What for?” asked George.

“Sure, the howlding’s foine roight here,”
asserted Jimmie, who had personally seen to
it that the *Tramp’s* anchor was well placed;
though it could be readily tripped in case of a
sudden need for a move during a storm.

“But to tell the honest truth, fellows, I
don’t just like the looks of this old island
here,” admitted the cook of the *Wireless*,
boldly.

“I don’t see anything the matter with it?”
remarked George. “In fact, simply because
it seems deserted is no reason we ought to
cut loose, and change moorings. If it belonged
to some millionaire, and had a cottage perched
on the rocks, the chances are ten to one we’d
have been asked to move long before now.”

“I agree with George,” Jack remarked.
“And that was the main reason why I determined
to come here, where it looked so attractive.
When fellows are off on a little trip like
this, the very places they should avoid are
those where too much civilization is found.
Give me the wild spots every time.”

“Oh! well, I withdraw my motion then,”
grumbled Josh. “But don’t blame me if anything
happens, that’s all.”

“Would ye be afther listenin’ till him?”
exclaimed Jimmie, hilariously. “Sure he do
be thinkin’ still about that banshee. And
Jack, since ye are to sthand watch wid Josh,
be warrned in toime, to look out for throuble.
If wishin’ would bring ghosts it’s me honest
belafe Josh would raise a whole raft of thim.”

But in talking of many other things the
boys soon seemed to forget about these fears
on the part of the one who confessed to a
belief in hobgoblins.

When several of the inmates of the gathered
boats started to yawn at a tremendous rate,
word was given that they turn in.

“It’s eleven o’clock, boys, just think of it?”
said Herb, as he lighted a lantern in order to
make up his bed more comfortably; for Herb
believed in getting all the benefit possible out
of things, even when on a cruise.

“And we can count on broad daylight by
four o’clock, though we needn’t get up till
five,” Jack observed. “So I’ve divided the
six hours into three watches. Josh and myself
will stay on duty until one. Then Herb and
Jimmie will take our places, and at three they
are to wake up George and Buster. Understand
that, fellows?”

“Yes,” came the response, in some cases
very sleepily.

“How about you, Josh; think you can stay
awake two hours now?” Jack asked.

“I drank more coffee for supper than
usual,” the other answered, “and the way I
feel now, I don’t seem to care one bit whether
I get a wink of sleep tonight or not.”

As things were reduced to a pretty good system
by this time, with regard to the making
up of beds, it did not require much time to get
these in readiness. Herb was the only fussy
one; and they were threatening to call him an
old maid, and get a cap and gown for him, if
he kept on that way. But Herb paid no attention
to all this talk. When he had his mind
made up it required an earthquake to change
it.

Finally his lantern went out, although Josh
kept it within reach of his hand, in case he
needed light in a hurry while doing his trick
as sentinel.

He and Jack could converse in low tones
without disturbing the sleepers, should they
care to do so. Jack meant to exchange a few
words occasionally, if only to convince himself
that the other had not been overtaken by
drowsiness.

No longer did the moon peep out from the
dark curtains above. The cloud banks had
effectually covered the face of the heavens as
with a pall. Still it did not rain, and thus far
there were no other indications of a brooding
storm.

It was impossible to see for any distance
around. Even out upon the water objects were
indistinct at fifty feet; and as for the nearby
island it rested there like a black hillock, above
which the tips of the inky pines could be seen
outlined against the less opaque sky.

Now and then the night breeze moaned dismally
through these treetops, making a queer
sound. Jack noticed that every time this happened there
would be a slight movement in the
*Comfort*; and he understood that Josh must be
turning his head to stare toward the island.
Josh, then, had not entirely given up the idea
of seeing a ghost; and this uncanny sound
made him remember his prediction.

It was impossible to note the passage of time
by the stars, for they were quite out of sight,
and no clock striking could give warning; for
there was not a church within many miles of
their anchorage.

So when Jack began to wonder how much
longer he and Josh ought to hold the fort, he
had to strike a match and consult the little
nickel watch he carried.

“Gosh! how you scared me!” exclaimed the
other sentry, as the match crackled.

“Half past twelve,” Jack remarked, in a
low tone. “That means another half hour for
us, Josh. How are you feeling about now?”

“Well,” admitted the other, “I guess I was
near dozing that time. Thought somebody
shot at me when you scratched that match.
How loud everything sounds at this time of
night. Wish that old bird would let up on that
screeching, over on the Canada shore. He
makes me tired, for a fact.”

“Depends on the way you look at things,”
chuckled Jack. “Now, for my part I rather
like to hear a whippoorwill call. Never yet
kept me awake either, like some things would
do. Have a bite of this gingerbread, Josh.
Keeping watch is hungry work, after all, I
find. Besides, while your jaws are working,
you won’t get sleepy.”

Josh was nothing averse to a “snack,” and
so they sat there, eating, and occasionally exchanging
some remark, while the balance of
the crowd slept on.

The boats were anchored far enough apart
to avoid striking should a wind arise. But on
account of his desire to keep in touch with
Josh, Jack had seen to it that the stern of each
craft was drawn toward the other. In this
fashion then they could have shaken hands by
leaning over the intervening foot or so of
water.

It so happened that while Jack was devoting
most of his attention to the watery expanse
that stretched away toward the east, Josh on
the other hand found the neighboring island
more interesting.

Each acted on his own idea as to the nature
of the danger that might come upon them.
With Josh it was the peril that stalks during
the middle of the night, and frightens men
through its connection with spectral forms.
Jack, on the other hand, suspected that Clarence
and his crony, Bully Joe, might be planning
some sort of a mean raid, that would spoil
the pleasure of the motor boat club.

“Jack!” whispered the occupant of the
*Comfort* in a hoarse voice.

“Well, what do you want?” replied the
other lad, serenely.

“I am sure I heard a suspicious noise ashore
just then!” Josh continued.

“Oh! rats! You’re always hearing things,
Josh. Like as not it was only a poor old ’coon,
hunting around on the beach for a fish that
has been cast up. Get it off your mind. It’s
only a little time longer, and then you to
dreamland.”

“There it goes again, Jack! Didn’t you
catch it that time? I tell you it means something.
Hark! now will you believe me?”

Josh was growing more and more excited.
He even raised his voice above the low tone in
which up to now they had conversed. But
small danger of any of those sound sleepers
being so easily awakened. It would require a
shaking to accomplish that.

Jack certainly did hear the sounds now.
These consisted of a strange clacking, the
nature of which it was impossible to guess.
Then would come a plain, unmistakable groan!
No wonder poor Josh shivered, and turned
cold with apprehension, considering what his
recent belief had been.

“Oh, my! there’s sure something moving
up there, Jack! Don’t you see it—over by
that place where we saw the silver birch?
Watch it, Jack! There, look! look!” and as
he spoke Josh raised his voice still more until
it almost became a shout.

Movements told that he had finally succeeded
in arousing the sleep squad. Nick was
heard to yawn, and grumble, as usual; while
Herb poked his head out from the side curtains
to ask what all the row meant.

“Didn’t I tell you it would come?” shouted
Josh suddenly. “Just look there on that
blamed island, and see what we get for sticking
here! Now laugh at me for believing in
ghosts, will you? Herb, can’t we cut the
anchor rope, and make a quick getaway?
Please say yes, because I’m that scared I’m
shaking all over!”

And every eye was by this time glued upon
the strange spectacle ashore that had given
poor Josh his fright.

CHAPTER IX—THE GHOST OF THE ISLAND
==================================

“Wow! it’s sure a banshee!” whooped
Jimmie.

“A-am I dreaming, fellows?” exclaimed
Herb, rubbing his eyes desperately.

“O-oh! look at it shake its fist at us, would
you! It’s ten feet high, if it’s one!” came
from the quivering lips of Buster.

But Jack as yet had not said a word, though
he was staring just as hard at the remarkable
sight ashore as any of them. It was something
different from anything that had ever
before crossed his path. Perhaps Jack might
have felt a little chilly sensation as he looked;
but he was not at all frightened.

Up on the rise of the mysterious island there
had appeared a dim figure that seemed, just as
Nick vowed, to be all of ten feet in height. At
first it was like a curling column of smoke,
when a certain kind of wood has been thrown
on the fire. Then it seemed to take form, and
change to a flickering yellow glow.

The groaning sounds continued all the
while, as though this disturbed spirit from
the other world might be in great pain. And
certainly the figure was waving one of its
arms as though waving them off.

All of this Jack saw, yet no panic gripped
him as it seemed to do the rest, who were
crouching there, staring, and gasping for
breath.

“Jimmie, hand me my shotgun, and let’s
see if it can stand Number Threes!”

Jack called this out in a loud, clear voice.
Not that he wanted the gun to any great extent;
but he had an object in saying it.

But Jimmie really believed he meant what
he said. While he groped for the gun he was
saying aloud:

“Sure, now, ’tis mesilf as doan’t belave ye
kin knock the daylight out of that banshee
wid little shots, Jack, darlint. But if so be ye
mane to thry, take the gun, while I shut me
eyes.”

“’Tain’t any use,” broke in George; “the
thing’s disappeared!”

And so it had, vanishing as mysteriously as
it had come, and leaving only a black void in
front of them. Even that steady groaning had
stopped, proving conclusively that it had had
to do with the appearance of the spectre.

Jack laughed, to the utter astonishment of
the rest.

“I don’t see anything funny about this business,”
complained Nick.

“Well, p’raps you fellers will quit quizzing
me after that experience!” said Josh, with
just a little ring of triumph in his unsteady
voice.

“And will you please stop shaking that
way?” remarked George. “For you make the
boat rock the worst kind. It was bad enough
seeing that blessed thing, without taking a
header overboard right now.”

“Jack, what makes you laugh?” asked quiet
Herb, who knew that the other would not
have acted in the way he did unless with good
and sufficient cause.

“Do you really want to know?” asked Jack,
quietly.

Somehow the fact that one of their number
did not seem to be affected by the panic that
had swept over the rest began to make George
and Jimmie ashamed.

“Sure we do, Jack,” remarked the latter,
eagerly.

“I was laughing because it was so funny to
see how our fine ghost bobbed out of sight the
very instant I called to Jimmie to hand me my
Marlin,” said Jack.

“Oh! I see now!” cried George; “you mean
that ghosts needn’t be afraid of a handful of
bird shot. Is that it, Jack?”

“That’s what I meant. I’ve read lots of
ghost stories, just like Josh here; though I
never believed them for one minute. But in
every case the fellow who tells the yarn declares
that bullets have no effect at all on real
goblins. Am I right, Josh?”

“It’s true, every word of it, Jack!” the
other answered, promptly. “Why, I’ve heard
where a soldier whacked the head off a ghost,
who coolly picked it up and stuck it on again
as neat as you please. Oh! no, they needn’t
be afraid of little bird shot, not a bit of it.”

“Well, this ghost was timid, you see,” Jack
proceeded. “He fell over just as soon as I
called out about my gun.”

“Look here, you mean something by that,
sure you do!” remarked Herb.

“Fellers, he’s hinting that it was a job set
up on us—that’s what Jack means,” declared
Nick.

“Out with it, Jack. Don’t you see that
we’re all in a blue funk over this queer deal?
If you know anything, share it with your
pards,” said Herb.

“That’s it,” observed Josh, who had by now
somewhat recovered from his fright; “put us
wise old commodore. What d’ye think it was,
now?”

“I’ll tell you, boys,” Jack said, impressively.
“In my opinion, honest Injun, now, somebody
was trying to frighten us away from
here.”

“Say, it did wave its long, bony arm, all
right!” exclaimed Josh.

“We all saw that,” Herb put in; “but what
do you suppose anybody would want to make
us move our anchorage so much as to go to all
that fuss and feathers to scare us?”

“Well,” answered Jack, “that’s a thing I
can just tell—yet! You all admit it did keep
waving its arms. And you heard those lovely
groans stop just at the same time the thing
disappeared. I thought I heard a sound like
something falling to the ground. Did anybody
else get that?”

“I heard some noise,” admitted George.
“But, Jack, you certain must have some little
suspicion about who engineered this silly
game, if it was a set-up job?”

“Well, Josh saw a boat,” calmly remarked
the one addressed.

“Listen to that, would you?” exclaimed
Nick. “He means that it was Clarence who
got up that cute game right now—Clarence,
our old friend of the baseball diamond. And
perhaps the ghost that groaned was only
Bully Joe. Fellers, it sound good to me.”

“Well, it would be just like Tricky Clarence,
as sure as you live!” admitted Herb, who
had possibly been the least alarmed of the
five.

“But why should he want us to vacate?”
demanded Josh, who disliked very much to
give up his pet illusion, and believe that the
ghost was only the result of a clumsy trick on
the part of some person or persons unknown.

“Perhaps he wants this fine little cove himself,”
suggested George.

“That hardly fills the bill,” Jack went on.
“He might think to get even for some of the
times we’ve won out in the past. I tell you
right now I’m bothered to understand it.”

“Do we clear out in the morning, then?”
asked Herb.

“I hope you won’t say yes to that, fellows.
In the first place, it goes against my grain
to be chased away by Clarence Macklin or
anybody else, who has no right to order us
around. And then again, there are some things
I’d like to look into connected with this queer
affair.”

When Jack talked like that he knew the
others would fall in with his wishes; for they
had long ago come to look upon him as a
leader.

“Oh! we’ll stick it out if you say so, Jack,”
declared George. “But you ought to tell us
anything else you’ve got on your mind.”

“There was one thing that puzzled me,”
Jack continued. “It happened while Josh was
dozing, or else looking somewhere else, for he
didn’t seem to notice it. And I didn’t say anything,
because there was no use waking the
rest of you up then.”

“But what was it, Jack?” questioned Kick.

“Why, we settled it in our minds that the
old island was uninhabited, didn’t we boys?”
asked the other.

“That’s so,” several hastened to declare.

“Well, about half an hour ago, as I chanced
to turn my head and look that way, I caught
sight of a dim light moving along near the
ground. It would disappear, and then come
in view again, all the while moving.”

“Now, I’ve seen just such a funny light,
when a man with a lantern was walking
through the woods,” burst out Herb.

“Just what I settled it in my mind that
was,” chuckled Jack. “But it wasn’t so
strange that some one should be ashore, and I
didn’t let it bother me any. After what has
happened, though, you can see it must have
meant something.”

“That’s a fact,” admitted George. “And,
fellows, I’m coming around to Jack’s way of
thinking. I just bet Tricky Clarence was behind
that show.”

“Oh! well, let’s try to forget it for tonight,”
Jack observed; “and as it’s now just one
o’clock, George and Nick will have to take their
turn on guard.”

“Sure,” replied Buster, cheerfully. “Sleep
and me have parted company for the rest of
this night, after what I saw. So it’s me for a
four hour stretch; Herb, you can snooze right
along till sun-up, if you want.”

“Oh! can I? Thanks,” laughed the one addressed,
with a touch of skepticism in his
voice; for he knew only too well what a difference
there was between Buster’s promises
and the keeping of them; he always meant
well, but found the flesh weak.

And it proved just as wise Herb supposed
would be the case; when the time came for
George to go off duty he found Nick fast
asleep; so that Herb had to be aroused by repeated
calls and punching of the side of the
*Comfort*.

Then daylight came; but according to Jack’s
arrangements no one was aroused until the
hour of five, when the sun was well up. July
days are long indeed in this northern clime,
and the twilight lingers until nearly nine in
the evening.

“Who’s going to try the fishing today?”
asked Jack, as they were partaking of their
bacon and egg breakfast, a supply of the hen
fruit having been obtained on the previous
day from a Canadian farmer, near whose
place the little fleet of motor boats had stopped.

“Why, Herb and myself talked of going,
if so be you’d post us about the best trolling
ground,” George remarked.

“Tell you all I know about it,” replied
Jack, readily enough. “But if you are lucky
enough to strike a big musky like the one I
got, you’ll have your hands full. Better take
the gaff hook along. I wished many times yesterday
I had it.”

“Will we, George?” asked Herb, in a vein
of sarcasm.

“Catch me putting my hand on a pirate like
that while he’s got an ounce of fight left in
him,” the other declared. “Why, one snap
of those jaws and he’d take your whole paw
off, sure. Yes, give us the gaff hook, or we
don’t go.”

“Then you don’t intend to keep us company?”
asked Herb of Jack.

“I think I’ll just hang around here this
morning, boys.”

“Oh! all right. I can see with half an eye
that you’ve got something up your sleeve,
Jack; but post us when the show comes off,
won’t you?” George remarked, laughingly.

An hour later, long after the two ambitious
fishermen had departed in their little rowboats
for a siege of trolling along the lonely
shores of the island, Jack quietly stepped into
his own dinky, and paddled ashore.

“Now what can he be up to?” Nick asked
Josh, as they looked after the other.

“Give me something easy, will you?” replied
that worthy. “But all the same, I noticed
that Jack was careful to take his gun
along.”

“But he can’t shoot any game now; the law
is on nearly everything, you know. And up
here the wardens are always on the lookout for
poachers,” Nick continued.

“Oh, shucks!” Josh complained, “you don’t
see through a millstone, even when it’s got a
big hole in it. Can’t you understand that Jack
is bent on looking up that ghost business?
Wonder if it was Tricky Clarence at the back
of it. Gee! but when I first set eyes on the
same I really thought it was a dead sure spirit
of some old Injun chief come back from the
Happy Hunting Grounds to warn us away.”

“Huh! I noticed that you hung on to that
same idea to the bitter end,” Nick continued
pugnaciously. “Right now, I bet you believe
deep down in your silly heart, it was a regular
hobgoblin. Oh! I know you all right, Josh
Purdue; and you’ve got a scary heart all right.
But I saw, just as soon as Jack spoke up, how
we’d been fooled by Clarence. Wait till he
comes back, and he’ll prove it.”

“I’d like to know how?” demanded Josh.
“Expect him to interview that *thing*, and get
a written confession? I’m just wondering
what we’ll run up against if we’re bound to
stay here in this cove another night.”

“Piffle!” scoffed Nick. “What about guns,
hey, tell me that? Ghosts don’t appear to like
guns much, do they? Jack says not, and Jack,
he ought to know. Stay here? Of course we
will; a week, two of ’em, if we feel like it!”

“Oh! yes, how brave some people are in the
middle of the day, when the sun’s shining,”
jeered Josh. “But wait; that’s all! I expect
to see you get the scare of your life tonight,
don’t you know. If that *thing* gets real mad,
and digs in for us you needn’t bother worrying
about taking on any more fat, because
you’ll shake that hard you’ll lose pounds and
pounds! But let’s wait till Jack comes back,
and find out what he’s discovered. I’ve got
a good notion to follow him ashore, if I can
pull up the anchor and beach the *Comfort*.
Watch how I manage it.”

CHAPTER X—FOLLOWING A TRAIL
===========================

Josh found his little plan was not hard of
accomplishment. All he had to do was to push
the *Wireless* around, after letting out all the
cable connected with the anchor, when he was
able to jump ashore.

He took with him another rope that was fastened
to the stern of the motor boat, and this
he fastened to the nearest tree. Now, when he
wanted to go aboard, all he had to do was to
unfasten this latter hawser, climb over the side,
and draw the *Wireless* back to her original
anchorage.

“Good boy!” cried Nick, who had been a
close observer of this clever little game. “You
go up head. When it comes to dodges like
that, you take the cake.”

It was not often that Josh heard a compliment
from this source, and he had to stop and
wave his hand toward the cook of the *Comfort*,
before following after Jack.

He had not gone twenty feet before he discovered
the object of his concern, who appeared
to be bending over something that
seemed to greatly interest him.

“Hello! there, what’ve you found, Jack?
Signs of a diamond mine, or traces of the ice
age they tell us about?” Josh demanded, as
he reached the side of the other.

“Hello yourself, Josh,” replied Jack, looking
up with a smile, as though pleased because
he was to have some one to talk to, and possibly
confer with. “Well, no, I can’t just say that
either of your guesses comes anywhere near
the truth. I’m only examining a trail.”

“What’s that? Then this old island hasn’t
always been as deserted as it looks right now,
if people sometimes drop ashore here?” remarked
Josh, his interest at once aroused.

“Look here and tell me what you see,” the
other lad continued, as he pointed to the
ground near his feet.

“Say, as sure as you live, it is, for a fact,”
exclaimed Josh. “Looks like they’d done a
heap of passing up and down this way, too.
D’ye know, Jack, I wondered what those marks
on the little beach meant, and now I understand.
Boats, that’s what; boats that have
been drawn up there when the water was
higher than it is now.”

“Yes, I saw them,” said Jack, quietly. “In
fact, I looked to find such marks on the sand.
And this broad trail began there, too.”

“Oh! I’m beginning to tumble to a few
things. I guess that in the season, this same
tight little island may be a place for duck
shooters to hold out. Perhaps we might even
find an old deserted shanty somewhere back
yonder in which they camp out during the
blustery fall months.”

“Hold on, Josh,” remarked Jack. “Is that
all you know about signs?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” asked the
other, puzzled.

“Take another squint at these marks, and
then tell me what you think, Josh.”

“Say, I tumble to what you mean!” exclaimed
Josh, after he had bent down once
more. “You expect me to say that if these
marks had been made months ago, with a winter’s
ice and snow, and a summer’s heavy rains,
they’d have been washed out long ago. And
so they would, Jack, so they would. You’re
right about it. They’ve been made lately!
They look fresh, for a fact!”

“Now you’re tumbling to facts, Josh. Remember,
we had a big downpour just three
days ago, don’t you?” Jack went on.

“Sure I do. And you’re on to that, too. But
I grab your meaning now, all right. There are
marks here that must have been made since
that rain.”

“Well, what do you say about it now?” continued
the boy who could read signs.

“Instead of duck shooters they’re fishermen,”
observed Josh, calmly. “Yes, and you
remember how those three boats came along,
and the men in each stared so hard at us?
Jack, I see it all now. We just happened in a
favorite place of theirs, and they didn’t like
it for a cent. Why, they even tried to scare us
off with that silly ghost business that gave
poor old Pudding such a fright.”

Jack only smiled.

“Well,” he said, “suppose we follow this
trail for a bit. I have an idea it will lead us
to the very place where I thought I saw a moving
light, like a swinging lantern, last night.”

Josh was eager to keep step with him; but
there was no trouble experienced in picking up
the trail, so plainly marked were the tracks.

“There it is, Jack!” exclaimed Josh, suddenly;
for he had been looking ahead all the
time his companion kept his eyes fixed on the
ground.

“It is a shanty of some sort, isn’t it?” remarked
Jack, without much emotion; for he
had been absolutely positive as to what they
would discover, so that the announcement did
not excite him.

“Why, yes, a tumbledown sort of a shack,”
observed Josh, with a trace of disappointment
about his manner. “I’d pity the fellows who
spent a rainy day in such a rookery. Why,
the roof is falling in at one end; and the door
hangs on one rusty hinge.”

Jack saw all these things as quickly as did
his companion, even though he failed to cry out
and express himself as vehemently as Josh
took pains to do.

“Old dilapidated cabin as it is, note one
thing, will you,” he remarked.

“You mean that the tracks lead up to the
door, is that it, Jack?”

“Well, yes,” the other continued, “but just
notice that there’s a rusty padlock on the door.
Stop and think if that doesn’t look queer, considering
that if anybody wanted to get in, all
they’d have to do would be to knock that one
hinge, and the whole door would drop flat?”

“Say, that makes me laugh, for a fact,”
Josh chuckled. “But it’s just what you’d expect
to run across up among these simple people
of the border. They make me think of the
ostrich. Don’t you know we read the silly
thing just sticks its head in a little bush, and
thinks because it can’t see anything that it’s
got a bully hiding place.”

“Yes, that sort of covers the bill,” said Jack.
“I guess this padlock is only meant to tell
people who have no business here that they
are not wanted inside this shack. It stands
as a warning. To enter after that would be a
breach of the rights to property, as Lawyer
George would say.”

“Looky here, would you!” cried Josh, presently,
while his companion was prowling
around, and peeping through a hole in the wall,
as though curious to know what the interior
of the cabin looked like.

“What have you found now?” asked Jack,
who was himself wondering why that new single
trail had been made, coming out of the
dense bushes at the back of the hut, and showing
signs of recent passage, which somehow
he could not help connecting with the flash of
that lantern on the preceding night.

“The bally old lock don’t hold even a little
bit,” announced Josh, as though that circumstance
added to his hilarity. “See, I can lift
it off with one finger. It’s a fake, that’s what
it is, Jack. But while it might fool ordinary
people, it can’t a live Yankee. Now what
d’ye say to going in?”

Jack laughed as though amused at the reasoning
of his chum, and remarked:

“I see you think we wouldn’t be breaking
the law of possession if we walked in when the
lock was out of gear. That sounds nice, Josh,
but many a chicken thief has found that such
a plea didn’t save him. But all the same, I’m
going to step in and look around a bit.”

“Seems to me it smells fishy around here?”
observed Josh, sniffing eagerly.

“Oh! that’s easy enough to explain,” and
Jack pointed to several heads of black bass that
lay near by. “Somebody has had a fish dinner,
for there is the ash bed of a fire. It may
have been passing sportsmen from one of the
big hotels; then again, perhaps the people who
made the trail also cooked a meal or two here!”

Once inside the cabin he looked around.
There was virtually nothing to see. The place
had not a sign of furniture of any description.
Some straw lay on the hard earthen floor, as
though it might be made useful in case one
wished to pass the night there.

Josh almost doubled up with laughter.

“This is sure the greatest joke ever,” he remarked.
“To think of trying to keep trespassers
out of this old trap, just like it held all
a squatter’s possessions. Jack, what d’ye
think the silly donkey meant by that padlock?
Did he keep his stuff here once, and locked
the door? I’m all in a fog.”

Jack said nothing, only “browsed” around,
as he expressed it, kicking the straw aside in
places, only to replace it as he had found it, as
though not wishing to leave any signs that
trespassers had invaded the cabin of the mysterious
island.

But all the while he was thinking deeply.

And once, after the laughing and scoffing
Josh had stepped outside to look about him
again, Jack stooped down and picked some
object up off the earthen floor, which he seemed
to examine with considerable curiosity before
stowing away in one of his many pockets.

“Seen all you want to of the strange palace
of the Thousand Islands?” asked the merry
Josh, when his companion again appeared.

“Oh! yes, and I’ll put the lock back just as
we found it,” replied the other.

Then he started to follow the plain trail that
led through the dense thicket to the rear of the
cabin. It took him nearly twenty minutes to
zigzag through the intricate growth, for all
manner of obstacles caused him to turn aside,
even as they had the one who had come and
gone this way on the preceding night.

When he finally reached the shore it was far
around the point that jutted out above the
cove where the motor boats were anchored.
And after Jack had stooped down to examine
the sandy beach, he arose with a peculiar smile,
and a knowing shake of the head; but the only
words he used as he walked along the sandy
stretch near the water’s edge were:

“I thought I’d find where the keel of a boat
landed on this beach!”

CHAPTER XI—BUSTER GETS AN IDEA
==============================

“Find anything new worth while, Jack?”
asked the cook of the *Wireless*, as he got up
from the warm sand where he had been taking
a sun bath, while waiting for his companion
to put in an appearance.

“Oh! I don’t know,” replied the other, in
what seemed to be a careless manner, calculated
to put Josh off the track, and smother his
curiosity. “One or two little things that I’m
going to puzzle my wits over. But look here,
the fishermen are in sight!”

“Good gracious! how you scared me, Jack!”
exclaimed Josh, whirling around to look.
“Honest Injun, now, I thought you meant
those rough men in the three boats, and knowing
how guilty we were about breaking into
their shack, I started to shiver, never having
been arrested, you know. But it’s only George
and Herb.”

“They’ve been successful, I expect,” observed
Jack, wisely, “because both seem to be
trying to look disappointed; but can’t help
glancing down in the bottom of the little
dinkies. I reckon each has got a musky, all
right.”

“Sure we have,” remarked George, as the
two small boats pulled in close; “and dandies
at that. Talk to me about pull; that pirate
was a hummer.”

“But, George, you know he didn’t come up
to mine,” remarked Herb.

“Well, I rather guess not, Herb,” grinned
the other. “I suppose you notice, fellows, that
my comrade has been in swimming. Funny
part of it is, he never even bothered taking
his clothes off when the notion struck him.”

“Well, it came right sudden, for a fact,”
laughed Herb. “That big muskalunge was
tearing around like the dickens, when swoop!
he took a turn under my boat, and in my haste
to swing around, I upset.”

“Wow!” cried Nick, “Oh, why wasn’t I
there to see the fun? I’m always missing all
the good things, seems to me.”

“But you hung on to your rod, apparently,”
remarked Jack; “seeing that you got your
game in the end.”

“That’s just what he did,” declared George
with sincere admiration. “You know our
friend Herb has a touch of stubbornness in his
make-up. No measly old musky that ever
swam in the St. Lawrence was going to get the
better of him in an argument. He hung to
that rod even while he went under. It was the
greatest thing I ever saw, for a fact; but he
managed it fine, let me tell you.”

“Tell us how?” begged Nick, breathlessly.

“All right,” answered George. “You see,
the little dinky had turned turtle when it
dropped Herb out; so there it was, floating
beside him, bottom-side up. Would you believe
it, that fellow just climbed up over the
stern, and straddled the boat as he kept on
playing that fish as cool as you please.”

“Great! Hurrah for our Herb! He’s the
champion fisherman; only, because we haven’t
got a photograph of that game fight to show,
be careful how you tell the boys when we get
home,” remarked Josh.

“While he played the fish I picked up his
paddle,” George went on. “And when he got
the musky in where I could gaff him, we
pushed ashore, so he could turn his boat over
again. Then, as each of us had a prize, we
thought we might as well quit for the day.
What you doing ashore, fellows?”

“Jack wanted to nose around, that’s all,”
Josh hastened to say. “Found an old shack
up in the woods here. Guess that spook lives
there when he doesn’t want to be seen. Funniest
thing, though, he keeps an old rusty useless
padlock on the broken door. But there
wasn’t anything worth while to be seen. Jack
followed some tracks he found; that seemed to
amuse him.”

Josh went aboard, pushed the *Wireless* out,
and presently the skipper joined him.

“Any other news?” asked Nick.

“Oh, yes,” said Herb, stopping in the act of
changing his soaked clothes for dry ones. “I
forgot to say we saw that boat again.”

“What’s that? Do you mean the mysterious,
dark, piratical craft that, believe me,
ought to be flying the skull and crossbones at
her stern?” demanded Nick.

“The same,” Herb replied promptly. “She
flashed by us while we were trolling, though at
some little distance. And, fellows, as sure as
you live, Clarence was at the wheel, though
neither of us could see a thing of Bully Joe.
I thought Clarence looked scared, for he was
awful white; but George declared he was only
in one of his mad fits. We know what they
stand for, don’t we?”

“Did you call out to him?” asked Jack,
quickly.

“I did,” replied George, “and dared him to
accept a challenge to race the *Wireless*. I
thought he was going to answer me; but he
only turned his head and stared. But it was
Clarence, all right. I give you my word on
that.”

“Now, what d’ye know about that?” observed
Nick; “dodging around like that, and
declining to even speak! Generally Clarence
is always ready enough to get into a hot argument.
And you’d just think he’d be wild to
take you up on that challenge business, George.
It beats me all hollow, now.”

“And even that ain’t all,” added George.

“What! more adventures?” cried the chagrined
Nick. “I tell you it ain’t fair for everybody
to get in the lime light, and leave poor
me in the lurch. What have I done to deserve
this? Say, I hope you fellows ain’t holding
that silly thing up against me yet, about betraying
our secrets to the enemy, and all that
rot, you know? That would be mean.”

“Oh! shucks, cut it out, Buster,” said Josh;
“and let George tell us what else happened.
This mystery is getting on my nerves, I tell
you, boys. Go on, proceed, George, old chum.
Give us the harrowing details.”

“You won’t find much to alarm you in this,”
laughed the other. “Only, while we were fishing
a boat came along, and it had two men in
it. They rowed up close, and we could see they
had a fishing rod in action. The one who held
it kept watching us as sharp as the mischief.
He spoke to us pleasant like, and asked a few
questions about our luck, how we happened
to be so far over toward the Canada side, if
we expected to move away soon to new grounds,
and such things.”

“Did you recognize the boat, or the men,
George?” asked Jack, quietly.

“Herb and myself talked that over afterwards;
until his tumble overboard knocked it
all out of our heads. And we thought that
perhaps those men were one of those couples
we saw yesterday, passing here and staring in
at us.”

“Say, perhaps they may have been Canadian
custom officers, who patrol the river to keep
American fishermen off their side,” suggested
Nick.

“That might be,” George said. “We thought
of that; but they didn’t give us any warning.
And besides, from the chart we’ve got we’ve
learned that this island is American territory
all right, you know.”

“Oh! well, what’s the use of bothering our
heads over it,” declared Herb, from inside the
outing shirt he was pulling over his head.

“That’s right!” cried Josh. “Fling away
dull care while the sun shines, and we’ve got
enough grub left to keep Nick here from starving
to death.”

When the fat boy was not looking, Josh
reached down, and took hold of some object
he had smuggled aboard without the others noticing
the fact. It was a length of old tin
waterpipe that he had found up alongside the
deserted shanty, and which had evidently been
useful at some time in the past, to convey the
water from the roof to a spot where it would
not back into the cabin.

This old pipe was possibly six feet in length;
and to the mind of a practical joker like Josh
it presented some alluring possibilities.

Swinging it upward when Nick was not
looking, he managed to bridge the watery gap
between the *Wireless* and the *Comfort*, and
quickly called in a sepulchral tone through
the novel speaking-tube:

“Hello! down there! Give me connection
with Buster Longfellow! I’m the ghost that
walks in the night. I want to have a heart-to-heart
confab with Buster!”

“What you trying to do, give me heart disease,
or an attack of delirium tremens?” exclaimed
Nick, who had started violently upon
hearing that muffled sound so close to his ear.
“Say, you don’t know how queer that does
go. Talk about your megaphones! That tube
carries sound to beat the Dutch. I wonder
now—gee!”

“Hello! What ails Pudding? Look, fellows,
the poor fellow’s got an idea, and it
seems so strange that he don’t know what to
do with it!” jeered Josh.

“Huh! don’t I?” replied the fat boy, whose
face had turned pale, and then rosy red. “You
just wait and see. Perhaps you’ll say it was
an inspiration some fine day. And no use to
josh me about it, for I ain’t going to squeal
one little bit. But, oh, my! I wonder if that
could just be so! This is the second time it’s
give me a start. If Aleck only does what I
asked him!”

He stuck to his word about saying no more;
and although Josh kept on teasing him for
quite some time, Nick kept his lips resolutely
closed on that subject.

The balance of the day passed away without
anything happening that seemed out of the
way. They saw nothing more of the mysterious
dark boat; nor did any small craft come
prowling around to have the occupants glower
at them, as though begrudging them their
pleasant anchorage just on the edge of that
little cove.

Supper was a great success. Josh fairly
outdid himself in cooking the fish, all of them
going ashore on the beach to where he had
made a camp fire. And afterwards they sat
around, telling stories, and singing many of
their favorite school songs, until the hour grew
late.

When they went aboard, the night was
dark; for it seemed to cloud up at sundown
almost every evening now. All of them were
busily employed getting their blankets arranged
for sleeping, and the two who were to
keep first watch had even settled down comfortably
in their places; when to their ears
came the sudden rapid popping that would
indicate the presence of a motor boat in the
near vicinity.

“Oh! look, fellows!” exclaimed Nick, as
from around the point a dazzling glow suddenly
shone, bearing down rapidly straight
toward them.

CHAPTER XII—YANKEE STUBBORNNESS
===============================

The most tremendous excitement reigned
aboard every one of the three anchored motor
boats, when it was seen that the bright white
light was headed straight for them.

“He’s going to smash us!” whooped Josh.

“Hey, hold off there, Clarence! Don’t be a
fool!” shouted George.

Herb and Nick could not find their voices
at all, to make the least sign; and there was
a cause for their feeling more alarmed than
any of the rest. It happened that in arranging
their anchorage the *Comfort* came further
out than either of the other boats. Hence, she
was more in direct line with the swiftly advancing
speed boat than either the *Wireless* or
the *Tramp*.

But if Nick could not use his tongue he certainly
could use his limbs; and the way he
threw himself over to the port side of the
roomy *Comfort* was worth seeing. There he
crouched, hugging the railing, and ready for
a plunge overboard should the expected collision
take place.

But just when it seemed as though the sharp
prow, which they fully believed must belong
to the *Flash*, was about to cut through the
stern of the helpless *Comfort*, the hand at the
wheel must have diverted her course just a
trifle, for she shot past like an arrow, almost
grazing the varnished side of the broad-beamed
launch.

While that dazzling glow from the acetylene
searchlight shone in their faces, none of the
boys could make out anything with certainty.
On comparing notes afterwards they were unable
to declare whether the dim figure at the
wheel was Clarence or some other; though
Nick did say he heard a low chuckling laugh
as the phantom boat passed, which he knew
was a favorite way of expressing pleasure on
the part of the Macklin boy.

“That was a close shave, sure!” remarked
Jack, as coolly as he could.

They could hear the rapidly retreating rattle
of the exhaust of the “pirate boat,” as
some of them liked to call the other craft; but
as it was circling around the island, apparently,
all other signs of its presence had vanished.

“Too close for comfort!” gasped Herb.

“Listen to him joking at such a time!” remarked
Josh, thinking Herb meant to apply
his remark to the name of the boat, when,
truth to tell, that was the last thing to occur
to him.

“Believe me, fellows, I confess that I’m
quivering like a leaf,” said Nick, “and it ain’t
cowardice, either. Brave men tremble after
the danger is over, cravens before. You noticed
that I wasn’t paralyzed with fright,
didn’t you? I could think, and lay out a plan
of escape. That proves I wasn’t really scared
then.”

“But,” declared Herb, indignantly, “whatever
did they mean doing that? Why, if that
sharp nose of the *Flash* had ever banged into
us, going like she was, we’d have been cut in
two! It’s criminal, that’s what, fellows!”

“Oh!” Jack remarked, “to tell the truth, I
don’t think Clarence would be such a fool to
take such chances as that. In the first place
he might kill one of us. And then again, you
know, his boat would be sure to suffer, too, and
might be wrecked.”

“That sounds reasonable, Jack,” admitted
George; “but whatever do you suppose
tempted him to do that crazy thing?”

“Well, he might think it a good lark,” was
the reply. “And then again, there may have
been some other reason pushing him on, which
we don’t know anything about as yet. I’m
going to try and think out an explanation, and
if I hit a hot trail I’ll tell you about it, boys.”

“That means Jack’s got an idea,” said Nick.

“All right,” spoke up Josh, instantly.
“Don’t think you’re the only one in the bunch
who can have such things, Buster.”

“But what if they circle around the island,
and come down booming at us again?” ventured
the nervous Herb.

“I don’t believe that will happen,” Jack
replied, seriously. “But if you feel anxious,
just pull further into the cove, Herb, and he
couldn’t strike you then.”

“I tell you what I’m going to do,” declared
the impulsive George. “I’m on the first watch,
and I want you to let me have that Marlin
scatter-gun of yours, Jack. If that fool bursts
out from behind that point again, and heads
for us at full speed, I declare to goodness if I
don’t bang away, and touch him up with bird-shot
a few. He deserves such a lesson.”

“But why should Clarence want to scare us
away from here?” asked Nick.

That was what Jack was himself wrestling
with, and he waited to find out if any of his
mates put forth an answer; but they seemed
to be unable to grapple with the puzzle, for no
one spoke.

“My boat is heading that way, and I’m
going to light my glim. Then if he tries his
funny business again, I’ll spot him in good
time,” George remarked.

It was some time before the excitement died
away. Even after those who were entitled to
sleep had lain down, they would raise their
heads at the least suspicious sound. Did a
wavelet lap the adjacent beach, Nick was sure
to bob up and look about him in alarm. When
an owl started to call out “Whoo! whoo!” from
a tree on the dark island, he sat up instantly,
and seemed almost ready to crawl over the
side of the boat into the water.

But nothing happened, and gradually silence
fell upon the three anchored boats.
George and Jimmie gave way to Jack and
Nick when several hours had passed; and
finally Herb and Josh wound up the night.

When morning came, the boys joked one
another over their red eyes, showing that,
after all, none of them could have secured
much comforting sleep.

“I suppose we’re going to pick up our mudhooks
today and climb out of this?” suggested
Josh, as they were enjoying breakfast.

All of them looked at Jack, who smiled.

“Suppose we put it to a vote, fellows,” he
said. “All those in favor of scuttling out of
this, like dogs with their tails between their
legs, simply because certain parties want us
to move, signify it by raising their hands.”

Not one went up; even Josh, who had
seemed inclined that way, upon ascertaining
that Nick declined to show the white feather,
allowed his half raised hand to drop again.

“Contrary, no, raise their hands!”

And six of them went up like a shot.

“Do we vacate?” asked the fat boy, sarcastically,
turning on Josh. “Nixey. And the
more they try to scare us off, the closer we
stick. Ain’t it so, fellows?”

“Millions for defense, not one cent for tribute!”
spoke up George, grandly.

“Remember the old story of the battle between
the wind and the sun, don’t you?” asked
Herb, who was always bringing into play
fables and yarns he had soaked in during his
younger days.

“No; what was that, Herb?” asked Jack.

“Why, they got into a dispute as to which
of them was the stronger, and decided to settle
it on a traveler. So the wind began to blow
harder and harder; but the traveler just
wrapped his cloak the tighter about him. Then
the sun started to try, and as it got hotter
and hotter, first the traveler unfastened his
cloak, and then threw it off altogether. So
the bully old sun won out, after all.”

“Hear! hear!” cried George; “that is a
good illustration, Herb. You see, fellows, he
means that we ain’t going to be chased away
by hard knocks and bluffing; but if some one
would come and ask us politely to vacate, and
give us a good reason why we ought to move
along, we’d do it willingly. That’s the Yankee
policy.”

“Then, as we’re going to be here for another
day, anyhow, suppose Jimmie and me take a
turn after the muskies?” suggested Nick.

“It’s only fair you should have a chance,”
Jack observed; “but you can see what risk
there always is in one of the clumsy little
punkin-seed boats, when handling a big fish.”

“You forget that I can swim like a duck,
Jack!” observed Buster, proudly.

“All the same,” Jack went on, seriously,
“you know you’re not quite as spry as some
of us; and I hope you will keep that life preserver
on all the time. This water is deep, and
the current makes it treacherous.”

“Oh! I promise that, sure,” Nick assented.
“Between us, believe me, I meant to carry
that bally old cork life preserver along, anyway.
Jimmie might take a crab while rowing,
and upset. There’s no telling, you know. All
right, us for the grand sport today, Jimmie.
And now, post us about the place, Jack, and
just how you do the business.”

“Wouldn’t I just give a cookie to see Buster
fast to a hustler like I had on yesterday,”
chuckled Herb.

“Well,” remarked the fat boy, coolly, “it
would do you good, I guess. You’d know how
to manage, after that, so as not to let a measly
fish upset your boat. It takes brains to be a
successful fisherman, Herb, real brains.”

Jack went ashore again a little later, but
none of the others seemed to care to accompany
him, being satisfied to lie around, taking
things easy, and talking of their future plans;
for a new idea had been broached which had
to do with an extended cruise up through the
great lakes, rather than knock around here
on the St. Lawrence for two full months; and
all of them were full of suppressed excitement
over it.

If Jack made any further discoveries during
the time he was on the island, he did not think
to take the others into his confidence when
he came back; but that may have been because
just then a noisy little motor boat was heading
straight toward the cove, and every one was
guessing what new developments were about
to be sprung upon them.

CHAPTER XIII—THE GHOST HUNTER
=============================

“Wonder if this can be the same parties we
met yesterday?” George remarked, as they
watched the approach of the bustling little
motor boat, which pushed over the water with
a series of fierce explosions, not unlike the discharge
of a pack of giant fire-crackers.

“No, I don’t think it is,” Herb spoke up, in
answer. “Fellow at the wheel looks like a
Canuck guide from one of the hotels, a full-blooded
Indian, and the man with the glasses
and the fishing rod is more like a college professor,
I’d say.”

“That was just what I thought,” put in
Jack.

“Anyway, we’ll soon know, for they’re coming
in, as sure as anything,” Josh added.

Inside of five minutes the noisy little boat
swung close to where the boys sat watching.
The gentleman sitting holding the rod, and
winding up his reel with a clicking sound,
waved a hand in cheery greeting.

“How d’ye do, boys?” he said, cordially;
and somehow Jack rather liked the tone of his
voice, as he also did his looks.

“Any luck, sir?” he inquired, as is the custom
at such a time.

“Had two fierce strikes; but I’m afraid I’ve
lost my cunning, for I let the beggars have a
slack line, and lost both. Are you fishing any?
I saw two lads in little dinkies like that one
yonder, fishing over by the long island, and
guessed that possibly they belonged to your
party.”

“Yes, they do,” George replied; and went
on to tell about what luck they had had, with
the usual pride of a successful fisherman.

Jack meanwhile was not saying much, but
observing the gentleman. It struck him that
the other was trying to make himself very
agreeable; and somehow he could not help
remembering the fable that Herb had spoken
about so recently. Having failed to scare the
motor boat boys off by stern means, were
milder tactics about to be adopted now?

Presently the other thought he ought to
introduce himself.

“I am Professor Herman Marshland, of Ann
Arbor,” he said, modestly.

So Herb started to tell just who they were,
and how they happened to be knocking around
on the St. Lawrence at this time.

“Have you been stopping long in this
cove?” asked the other, in what he doubtless
intended to have appear as a casual way; but
Jack saw that he seemed to set more store
by the question than surface indications would
indicate.

“Why, sure, we have, Professor,” George
said. “We might have gone on before now,
but we just hate to leave under fire, you see.”

“Excuse me, but I hardly grasp your meaning,
I fear,” remarked the gentleman, with
one of his winning smiles.

“Well, you see, some persons appear to have
taken offense because we’ve monopolized their
dandy cove here. And they’ve been trying in
all sorts of ways to shoo us away. Last night
they threatened to run us down with a speed
launch that came buzzing around that point
of the island there. And then, would you
believe it, sir, they even went so far as to
attempt to scare up-to-date American boys, by
setting up a silly ghost game on us.”

“What’s that you say?” remarked the gentleman,
interrupting George. “A ghost? Now,
that’s right in my line, you see. I’ve been
making a study of all manner of strange and
incomprehensible manifestations along that
line for five years. In that time I’ve investigated
dozens of so-called haunted houses.
Why, you arouse my interest at once to fever
heat, my young friends.”

“And did you ever discover a real, genuine
bona fide ghost, sir?” asked Josh.

Professor Marshland smiled.

“I never have,” he replied, with a forlorn
shake of the head; “but I still live in hopes.
What knows but what this may be the golden
opportunity I have waited for so long? You
must tell me all about it, boys. And afterwards
I’ll just drop off and take a little look
around, on my own responsibility.”

Of course George and Herb were only too
willing. Assisted by an occasional word from
Josh, they soon told the story. Then Josh
in turn related what he and Jack had found
out when they investigated ashore. The college
professor seemed deeply interested in the
forlorn cabin, the dilapidated door of which
was fastened by a broken padlock.

“They say ghosts are peculiar in many
things,” he remarked at the conclusion of the
little talk. “And that might account for the
padlock. It’s all very interesting, boys. I
only regret that I was not here when the manifestation
occurred. Perhaps, if I hung around
tonight, the thing might get up courage
enough to show again. It would repay me
for all my trip here. I came for the fishing;
but to catch a ghost in the act, would be positively
refreshing, I assure you.”

Jack was still watching the professor.
While he liked the other, somehow he seemed
to feel that there was something rather
strange about him. He seemed to be studying
the four lads as though seeking to read them,
and make up his mind as to whether they were
just what they claimed.

Could it possibly be that he was connected
with those mysterious men who seemed so
bent on chasing the motor boat boys away
from the lonely island?

After chatting for some time, and making
quite a favorable impression on Herb, George
and Josh, the professor remarked that if they
would excuse him he would step ashore, and
take a look at the delightful old ghost cabin.

Josh was just about to volunteer to accompany
him, when he caught the quick look Jack
cast in his direction, accompanied by a negative
shake of the head.

“If he wanted us he’d have said so, Josh,”
came in a whisper.

A minute later the gentleman, having managed
to land, vanished amid the heavy growth
of timber and brush.

Josh looked at Jack.

“Sure as you live, he’s following that trail,
Jack,” he said.

“That’s only natural,” remarked the other,
“because, you see, it was mighty plain, as
though lots of people had gone back and
forth.”

“Yes,” observed Josh, simply, “if them
chaps were camping in the cabin, and going
out fishing every day, of course they’d make
a well-worn trail down to this cove here, where
their boats must have been tied up. I’ve been
thinking, Jack, that p’raps they’re engaged in
some sort of fishing that’s illegal, such as setting
nets against the law. Say, wouldn’t that
be an idea now? And if true, it must explain
just why they watched us so close. They
thought we might be wardens getting on the
track of their business. How’s that for a
guess, fellows?”

“Sounds kind of fishy,” remarked George.

“Scaly, I should say,” Herb spoke up.

But Jack said nothing. He was thinking
along the same line Josh had suggested, but in
an altogether different way from the lanky
cook of the *Wireless*.

To tell the truth, Jack would have been
pleased could he have slipped ashore to observe
what the professor from Ann Arbor
could be doing just then; but he did not dare
venture. It would look too much like impudence.
As he himself had said, if the gentleman
had wished for their company, he certainly must have
asked them to go ashore
with him.

As to his being deeply interested in ghosts,
and a patient investigator of remarkable manifestations
for years, Jack took all that with
a grain of salt. Perhaps it might be so, but
Jack believed he was not far wrong in believing
that Professor Marshland had only mentioned
the fact to excuse his evident desire to
go ashore and look around.

He was gone a long while. Indeed, Jack
guessed that perhaps the gentleman could
have explored the whole island in the time that
elapsed before he again showed up. Still,
there was also a chance that he might have
been doing something in connection with the
old cabin.

When he did appear he was smiling broadly.

“Sorry to say I couldn’t find any evidence of
the supernatural,” he remarked, in answer to
the eager look Josh gave him as he clambered
aboard his stubby little boat once more. “And
that inclines me to the belief that some one
who loves a practical joke was only trying to
throw you into a state of fright, boys. I regret,
too, that I cannot remain over a night with
you, in the hope of being granted a look at
this wonderful spectre. If anything more remarkable
occurs, I’d be very much obliged if
one of you would write an account of it and
mail me at the college.”

“Sure, we will, Professor,” said the willing
Josh. “And if so be we capture that flickering
ghost, we’ll send it to you by express, charges
collect.”

“Do so,” laughed the gentleman. “I won’t
object, I assure you. Well, here’s wishing you
luck, boys. And thank you for all the information
you’ve given. It may be of more
assistance to me in my calling than you imagine.
Start up, John. It’s back to the hotel
for us now.”

So the noisy little motor went chugging
away, passing around the point; and by degrees
the sound died out, as other islands
came between.

“Say, let me tell you, I like that man,” Josh
up and said, without any urging.

“He is a smart one, all right, and don’t you
forget it,” remarked George.

“Was he really trolling, do you suppose, in
that horrible, noisy power boat?” asked Herb,
skeptically.

Jack himself had a suspicion that the rod
and line were only being used for a mask of
some sort. Everywhere he looked, the mystery
seemed to be getting deeper. First the
strange actions of the men in the rowboats;
then the appearance of that foolish ghost on
the island; the questioning of the fisherman
whom George and Herb had met while away
on the preceding day; the peculiar things he
himself had discovered ashore; and now, last
but not least, the coming of this pretended
fisherman, who asked skillful questions, and
made out to be a genuine ghost hunter—taking
all these things together, and it can be
seen that Jack had about all he wanted to
ponder over for the rest of that day.

CHAPTER XIV—A STRANGE RIDE
==========================

“Time those two fellows were showing up,
don’t you think, Jack?” asked Josh, as the
noon hour came around.

“Oh! I don’t know,” replied the other. “I
noticed that Nick carried a bundle with him,
and guessed it might be a little snack to keep
off starvation, in case they were detained.
Sometimes it’s hard to give up, when you are
fishing, you know.”

“Snack!” echoed Josh, with a sniff of scorn.
“Well, I wish you’d seen just what that elephant
did roll up in that paper. Herb wasn’t
looking, but I kept an eye on Buster. Snack!
Say, take it from me, that he had as much as
I would eat in a week of Sundays.”

“Well,” laughed Jack, “you’re prejudiced
against poor Buster, you know, Josh. Just
because you have a bird’s appetite, and he that
of a hog, you pick on him. His greed is his
only weak spot. His heart is as big as a bushel
basket; and he’d go out of his way any time
to do you a good turn.”

“Oh! I know it, all right, Jack,” returned
the other. “You mustn’t take everything I
say for what it stands. But listen, fellows.
Talk of the angel, and you hear the rustle of
its wings. Unless I miss my guess, that’s the
tuneful voice of Buster right now. What in
the dickens can he be shouting that way for?”

All of them were on their feet by now, and
listening to the yells.

“They seem to be coming from around the
island,” said Jack.

“I bet you it’s Jimmie having some fun
with poor Pudding. He does like to hear him
put up a howl,” chuckled Herb.

“Well, I don’t know about that, fellows.
Just listen, and hear what he seems to be
saying. Perhaps, after all, there may be something
crooked about it. We seem to be up to
our necks in all sorts of queer mysteries, you
know.”

George was not smiling when he said this;
indeed, all of them could now realize that there
was something of appeal and alarm in connection
with the lusty yells Buster was letting
loose.

“Hey! stop it, you! What d’ye mean trying
to drown me? Let up, I tell you! Can’t
you give a feller a chance? Somebody head
me off, won’t you? Help! help!”

“There he comes!” shouted Jack, pointing.

“Well, what under the sun is he doing?”
cried Herb.

“Since when did Buster put a motor in his
dinky?” asked George, feebly.

“And ain’t he just making the time,
though?” ejaculated Josh. “Just look at the
way the foam flies up before the blunt bow of
the dinky!”

Jack looked again and then gave a shrill
laugh.

“Motor!” he exclaimed. “The only motor
Buster is dealing with now has got fins and
scales, and is in the water. Don’t you see
what he’s doing, boys? He got a whooping
big muskalunge at the end of his line. In some
way Buster has got the line twisted around his
body. And there he sits in the dinky, bracing
his feet against a knee of the boat, and holding
on for dear life, while the fish runs away with
him.”

Then the others burst into a loud laugh, seeing
the comical side of it. To Buster it was
not so funny, however. He had been straining
so long now that he fancied he might be
pulled over the side of the cranky little snub-nosed
craft any time; and with that cord
wrapped around his arms, drowned because of
his inability to swim, despite the cork life
preserver.

“Quit your laughing, and chase after us, fellows,”
he bawled, as he shot past the mouth of
the cove; and at the same time sending a mute
look of appeal toward his mates.

“Why don’t you get out your knife and cut
loose?” shouted George, making use of his
hands in lieu of a megaphone.

“Can’t move—got my arms tied down at
my sides. Ouch! it hurts, for the line is cutting
into the bone of my wrists. Come and
help me before it’s too late. You’ll be sorry
if I get drowned. Then you’ll never learn the
truth of how our secrets leaked. I’m the only
one who is on the track. Hurry up, boys; I
mean it!”

Jack saw that after all the situation was
more desperate than might have appeared at
first sight. It must be an enormous fish, the
grandfather of all the muskies around the
Thousand Islands, and powerful enough to
drown poor Nick, if once it succeeded in upsetting
the boat, or dragging him out of it.

Accordingly he immediately jumped over,
and unfastened the cable that held his anchor.

“Hold that for me, will you, Herb?” he said,
tossing one end of the rope over to the skipper
of the *Comfort*.

Then without any further delay he started
his engine with one energetic fling of the wheel.

Immediately the boat started, amid a rattling
fusillade of sharp reports that told how responsive
the well equipped motor was to the
demands of its master.

Of course, once Jack fairly started after the
little dinky that was being so vigorously towed
by the captive fish, he had no difficulty in overtaking
it.

“Now keep a firm hold on your seat, Buster,”
he said. “I’m going to push in ahead of
you, and see if I can fasten on to that line
myself. The big thing can’t well pull both
boats. After that I’ll free your arms. I want
you to pull him in by yourself, if possible.”

“Not me!” cried Buster. “I’m done with
the brute. Shoot him dead. Hit him with a
club. He’s a villain, a desperate villain, because
he wound me up like this, and then tried
his level best to yank me over. Jack, bless
you, I believe you’ve saved me from a watery
grave. Have you got him now? Are you real
certain he can’t jump into my little boat and
take a chunk out of my leg? Oh, my! what a
puller! I was sure going a mile a minute that
time. Talk about Neptune and his sea horses,
they can’t ever come up to a pesky muskalunge
that feels the barb of the hook. I’m all tired
out, Jack. You finish him, please.”

Jack saw that this was so; and having untangled the
line from Nick’s body, he took the
rod and proceeded to get in touch with the now
sulking monster.

Nick clambered aboard the motor boat in a
hurry, as though really afraid that the fish in
its anger might leap into the shallow dinky
to bite him.

“Glory! just look at him jump and kick,
would you?” shouted Nick, as the baffled captive
sprang from the water, shaking its
massive head furiously in an effort to dislodge
the hook, which, however, was too securely
placed by this time in the hard bone of its
mouth to be shaken out. “He’s trying to locate
me, that’s what! Let me have that gun
of yours, Jack. Next time he jumps I’m going
to pot him sure.”

And he did.

As a rule Nick was a poor shot. Whether
luck entered into it, or his fear that the big
fish was meaning to climb in after him, stirred
him to unusual exertions, Jack never knew;
but as he leaped into the air, not twenty feet
away, there was a tremendous bang close beside
Jack, and he saw the muskalunge drop
back into the water as though fairly riddled
with shot.

Poor Nick also tumbled over backwards,
and lay there grunting and rubbing his head;
for he had in his excitement pulled both triggers
at the same time, so that a double discharge
had followed.

“D-d-did I g-get him, Jack?” gasped the
fat boy.

“Deader than a door nail or Julius Caesar!”
laughed the other, as he began to draw in the
line hand over hand; for there was no longer
any positive resistance from the object at the
other end.

“Look out! Be careful, Jack,” warned poor
Nick, in fresh alarm. “You don’t understand
how treacherous one of these muskies can be.
’Twouldn’t surprise me if he was playing ’possum
right now. Throw him in the dinky when
he comes along. Let him bite a chunk out of
that with his old teeth if he wants to. I
wouldn’t touch him for anything now.”

“Oh! you’ll enjoy a steak from the same old
hooker tonight, never fear. But he’s dead as
a herring, Buster. And what a monster! None
of the rest of us are in it with you after this.
I bet he weighs all of thirty-five pounds!”

By degrees, when he really saw that the big
fish was dead, Nick recovered his courage; and
by the time they drew up in the cove he was
swelling with importance over the wonderful
degree of success that had attended his maiden
effort at capturing a muskalunge.

True, Josh was mean enough to elevate his
eyebrows when Nick spoke of it that way, and
hint that he had imagined that the shoe was
on the other foot, in that the fish had captured
Nick; but the other gave him a withering look
as he said scornfully:

“Now, what d’ye know about that, fellows?
This simple guy actually believes I was in
earnest when I let that fine and dandy fish at
the end of my line tow me for half a mile.
Why, silly, didn’t you take notice that I drove
him like you might a horse? Didn’t we come
in a bee line for this very cove? Give me a
little credit, won’t you? Be fair and square.
I know it’s an effort for you, but when you’re
in the company of gentlemen you ought to
brace up and try hard to act like one, Josh.”

Of course that took all the wind out of Josh’s
sails; he could only sit there, mumbling to himself,
shaking his head, and casting occasional
looks toward Nick, as though inclined to give
him the banner when it came to nerve.

Then came Jimmie, laboring furiously with
his paddle, and excited because he did not
know whatever could have become of his fisherman
companion, whom last he saw flying off
in a mysterious fashion, and yelling for help
as though the ghost of the island had indeed
laid hold of him; since Jimmie could not see
what amazing power it was causing the dinky
to rush through the water five times as fast as
he could urge his own craft.

CHAPTER XV—ANOTHER NIGHT
========================

Of course the whole story had to be told over
again for the benefit of Jimmie. The Irish
lad found some little difficulty in swallowing
Nick’s bold assertion that he might have been
setting up a little game for the amusement of
his companions. He even went so far as to
poke the defunct fish in the side with his finger
and pretend to ask the captive if it were really
so.

“But look here, Jack and Herb and George,
let’s have some lunch!” finally remarked Josh,
naming the three who had remained at home,
with malice in his manner.

Nick fell into the trap, sprawling.

“Now, I like that!” he observed with a
deeply injured expression on his red and fat
face. “Just listen to him, would you? He
cuts poor old Jimmie and me out of the call.
Say, don’t you think we ever eat?”

Josh pretended to be astonished, and threw
up his hands to indicate as much.

“Eat?” he cried. “Well, what’s to hinder
you from getting out that big lunch you took
away with you? We can spare you a cup of
coffee to wash it down, I guess, hey, fellows?”

Then the two returned fishermen stared at
each other.

“What are you talking about, Josh?” said
Nick. “That little snack we carried off with
us, is it? Oh! say, you don’t count that, do
you? Why, Jimmie and me, we got nippy
about nine o’clock and punished that off. Why,
I’m just about starved right now, if you want
to know it. Bring on your grub, unless you
want to see me faint dead away.”

Josh had had his little fun, and knew that
it would do no good to draw it out any longer;
so grumbling about the “rise in the cost of
living,” he proceeded to comply with the
demand.

Of course there was enough; Josh had seen
to that in the beginning. Indeed, it would have
been a highly dangerous proceeding for any
one entrusted with the cooking arrangements
of the party not to consider the enormous capacity
of Nick and Jimmie, when laying out
provisions for a meal.

Naturally enough the conversation soon took
on an interesting color.

“How long are we going to stick right here
in this cove?” Josh asked, as he sat curled up
on a seat, enjoying a platter of Boston baked
beans, with which some frizzled dried beef had
been heated up.

“Yes,” added Herb, “that’s a subject we
ought to consider. It’s all very fine to be enjoying
the fishing and the wonderful stunts of
Buster at harnessing the finny tribes as horses;
but you know, fellows, we came here to the St.
Lawrence to cruise, not squat on our haunches.
Jack, it’s up to you. Tell us.”

“I’ve been thinking right along that it must
be getting rather monotonous to some of you,”
said Jack, slowly. “Only for the fact that
we’ve been badgered by some unknown parties
who want to chase us off, we’d have gone before
now. But it does seem a shame to lose
so much time in this way. Tell you what I
propose, boys.”

“Glad to hear it. Let’s know!” several of
the others cried in unison; for somehow what
Jack thought right usually appealed to the
rest; because in the past as a leader he had
often been tried and never found wanting.

“All right,” the other went on. “Suppose
we put in just one more night here in this anchorage.
Then some time tomorrow, no matter
what happens, we’ll pull out. How does
that suit you, fellows?”

“I’m agreeable,” George immediately replied.

“Suits me from the ground up,” Herb put
in.

Three others added their voices after the
same fashion, so that in this amiable way the
question was settled without the least friction.

“That means another night of guard duty,”
mused Nick; whereupon Josh burst out into
a harsh laugh.

“Hear him, comrades all!” he remarked.
“The poor fellow is worn out with his arduous
work. No wonder he drops off into slumber-land
when on duty. He is so near a living
skeleton that even a poor lone little minnow
can pull him and his boat along by the mile.
Some of us ought to volunteer to take Buster’s
place, and let him get about fifteen hours
of sleep. He needs it.”

Nick only grinned, not at all abashed.

“Fine!” he exclaimed. “Suppose you start
the ball rolling then, Josh. How long will you
carry me on your stretch—half an hour? That
would count for something. I think I might
gain an ounce of flesh on the strength of that
extra sleep.”

“I think you would, all of it,” said Josh.
“The trouble with you, Buster, is that you
take life too easy. That’s why you get so fat.
Just keep on and see where you land pretty
soon. Remember Mr. Amos Spofford, will you,
and take warning.”

“Now, that’s what I call a mean dig on your
part, Josh,” complained Nick. “Talk to me
about the strenuous life; did you ever know
anybody have a bigger job than I did today,
landing that giant muskalunge? When I go
in for anything I do it with my whole heart,
don’t I boys?”

“You sure do, Pudding,” assented George,
“and with your whole stomach, too.”

Nick only gave him a reproachful look, as
though it pained him to receive this unexpected
blow in the house of his friends.

“Then it’s settled we leave here tomorrow?”
remarked Herb, meaning to cast oil on the
troubled waters; for Herb was by nature a
peacemaker.

“Unless something unexpected crops up that
might hold us back,” said Jack.

“What could do that?” asked Josh, uneasily,
for he wanted to get away from the vicinity
of the haunted island as speedily as possible.

“Oh! one of the engines might break down,
for instance,” laughed the other.

“Now I know that was meant for me,” retorted
George; “but, thank you, the bully old
*Wireless* seems to be on her best behavior this
trip. Haven’t had the least trouble up to now,
and don’t expect to. Wish I could only get a
chance to race that *Flash* of Clarence’s, though.
Never will be happy till I do, and find out
whether his boat or mine is the faster.”

“Look out yonder, fellows,” said Josh just
then.

“A rowboat, and holding two men,” remarked
Jack. “Seems to me we’ve seen those
fellows before, eh, boys?”

“We certainly have,” George spoke up.
“They are some of the ones who passed here
the other day and scowled to beat the band.
They’re doing the same right now, as if they’d
like to order us away, but don’t dare. Guess
they’ve come around to see if we show any
signs of leaving. Look at ’em talking together,
and shaking their heads. Perhaps it means
more trouble for us tonight, boys.”

“Mebbe the ould ghost has been patched up
again for a sicond show!” suggested Jimmie,
grinning at Josh, who had turned a bit pale,
and moved uneasily.

“Well, there they go off without saying a
single word to us. Talk about your good manners,
these fishermen along the St. Lawrence
are a lot of soreheads,” and George mockingly
waved his hand after the retreating boat,
though Jack considered his act as bordering
on the reckless.

“George, suppose you and I go ashore after
a while, and shoot at a mark a few times with
that rifle of yours?” Jack suggested later on.

“Now you’ve got some notion in your head,
or you wouldn’t say that,” remarked George.
“Tell us what it is, Jack.”

“Only this,” replied the other, without hesitation.
“Some of those men may be hanging
about within earshot. We don’t know but
what they have a camp on the island here or
some other close by. It might be as well to
let them know we’ve got a gun and can shoot
if necessary. Is that straight?”

“It’s what you would call good and sufficient
warning, in law,” George replied. “And I
call it a bright thought, Jack. Let’s start now.
I challenge you to a trial of skill with my rifle.
And Josh here can go along to keep tally.”

“Please excuse me,” retorted the party mentioned.
“But I’ve got plenty to attend to
right here. Try Nick; the exercise will do
him good.”

“All right!” exclaimed the fat boy,
promptly. “I’m on deck every time. You
never knew me to shirk; even if some of you
did allow terrible suspicions to creep into your
minds about my entire trustworthiness. But
in good time I expect to clear up that dark
mystery of the past. I can afford to wait my
time; the triumph will be all the sweeter. Shall
I tumble into your dinky, Jack?”

So the three went ashore, and for some time
the rivalry was keen, the sharp reports of the
rifle sounding at intervals, accompanied by
more or less shouting and merriment. As Jack
said, they might as well notify everybody
within earshot of the fact that even the appearance
of a ghost had not frosted their
spirits to any appreciable extent.

So the afternoon gradually passed away.

Josh often cast apprehensive glances toward
the silent shore of the nearby island as the
shadows grew longer, with night coming on.
Sometimes he fancied he saw something moving
amid the thick brush, and was almost inclined
to tell his comrades; only he feared their
shouts of derision, and the accusation that he
allowed memories of that silly ghost to haunt
him.

And after all, it usually turned out that the
moving object was some innocent little denizen
of the woods, a prowling ’coon perhaps, out
ahead of time in search of a supper; or possibly
only a chipmunk searching for tempting
roots to satisfy its desire for food, while waiting
for the new crop of nuts to come along.

Night settled down at last, and this time the
boys were pleased to note that the heavens were
almost clear, so that the moon would have a
fair chance to play hide and seek with the
few floating white banks of clouds.

Most of the boys seemed in high spirits.
They laughed and joked as they went about
the usual duties of the evening hour. If Jack
had anything serious on his mind he failed to
take his comrades into his confidence. And
yet, now and then he would smile, as though
certain thoughts that pushed themselves to
the front amused him; and this seemed to be
the case more especially when he heard the
others talking about the pleasant professor
from Ann Arbor.

CHAPTER XVI—JACK’S DARING VENTURE
=================================

Somehow no one suggested having supper
ashore that night. There was something chilling
about the mysterious island that dampened
the ardor of the boys in this respect. Had
it been anywhere else, they would have looked
upon the opportunity for having a jolly camp
fire as too good to be lost; but somehow all
seemed satisfied that they remain aboard.

Josh for one was just as well pleased. He
even neglected several golden chances to give
Nick those customary sly digs; and this was a
most unusual thing for Josh.

Nevertheless, even the proximity of a
haunted island could not long hold in check
the natural bubbling spirits of a pack of
healthy lads. After supper, as they lay around
in as comfortable attitudes as was possible,
some one started singing, and presently six
voices took up the chorus, so that a volume of
sound welled up out of that cove calculated to
startle all the ghostly visitants that were ever
known to gather there.

No one seemed to be sleepy; for even when
the hour began to grow late there was little
talk of getting out the blankets. Stories were
told, jokes flew around, and taken in all they
were a merry group, apparently without a single
care in the wide world.

George broke into this delightful harmony
finally by saying:

“Now, I guess you fellows will tell me I’m
hearing things that ain’t so; but, honest, I believe
that was the chug-chug of a motor that
came down the wind. It was just as Nick was
singing that funny song of his about the Dutchman
who didn’t know his own name, because he
and his twin brother got mixed in the cradle,
and the other fellow died. Did anybody else
get the sound, or are my ears the only sharp
ones?”

“I thought I did,” Jack spoke up; “but you
see, Nick was leaning over the side of his boat
and sending his voice right at me, so I couldn’t
make sure.”

Herb also admitted that he had heard something,
he couldn’t say what.

“Now, don’t laugh,” George went on; “but
it struck me I’d heard that rackety chug
before.”

“Meaning the noisy engine of that stubby
little boat the Ann Arbor professor came in?”
asked Jack, quietly.

“You hit it right at the first jump, Jack,
for that was in my mind,” George said.

“Well,” remarked Nick, “don’t you remember
that he said he’d like to spend one night
with us here, in hopes of seeing our pet ghost.
Perhaps he’s concluded to return and do it.”

“Oh, rats;” exclaimed Josh, “We ain’t going
to see any more ghost. What’s the use of
keeping that silly idea up? But I reckon all
of us’d like to see that gentleman again. He
was good company, and he knows boys from
the ground up.”

“He ought to, seeing that it’s his business to
be with boys and young men all the time. I
bet you he’s a prime favorite at college,” Nick
remarked; and then looked in surprise at Jack
because the other actually chuckled.

“I don’t believe Jack takes much stock in
Professor Marshland,” said George, who had
also noticed this little demonstration.

“Oh; but you’re very much mistaken there,”
the one indicated hastened to say. “I admired
him and hope some time to see more of
him. I think we shall before we leave the St.
Lawrence cruising grounds.”

George shook his head. He seemed to guess
that there might be a hidden meaning back of
these words; but if so, it was beyond his capacity
to fathom it.

“But look here, if he’s coming along, why
don’t we hear his old boat any more?” Josh
asked.

“That’s so,” declared George. “I wonder,
now, if the engine could have broken down.”

At that everybody smiled, for in their Mississippi
cruise it had been George who was frequently
in trouble through the inability of his
motor to stand the strain of great pressure.
And consequently the subject was usually one
that was frequently on his mind.

“Oh! the chances are that he was just going
past, and has gotten beyond hearing. You
know sometimes a flaw in the wind will carry
a sound for a mile or two,” Jack remarked.

“That’s so, on the water,” George observed.

A little later, while the others were engaged
in some wordy dispute, Jack quietly slipped
into the little tender attached to the *Tramp*
and paddled softly off out of the cove.

“What d’ye suppose he’s got on his mind?”
asked George, looking after the other.

“Give me something easy,” replied Nick.
“Jack always is a puzzle for me. He has such
bright thoughts I don’t just seem able to grapple
with ’em. But depend on it, he’s thinking
of something right now.”

“I guess he’s worrying about those men,”
suggested Josh.

“Oh! I don’t think so,” George hastened to
say. “They wouldn’t dare try attack us here,
you know. It would be a breach of the law
for which they could be sent to prison for
years. Jack’s got some other notion in his
brain, believe me.”

Meanwhile the object of all this speculation
idly paddled a little distance out on the moonlit
water, and sat there in his small craft, as
though enjoying the silvery glow.

He looked around him on all sides, and particularly
in that quarter of the wind from
whence had come the faint “chug-chug” of a
motor’s eccentric pulsations. But nothing
could be seen save the dim outlines of the next
island.

After a while, as a cloud covered the moon,
Jack came back and clambered aboard once
more.

“Here, is this an all-night session of the
club?” he asked. “Already it’s ten minutes
after eleven. If you fellows want to get any
sleep tonight, better be turning in right now.
Josh and myself have the first two hour watch,
you understand.”

Accordingly there was a breaking up of the
conference; goodnights were exchanged, and
those who had drawn the first spell of rest
crept into their comfortable blankets.

Of late their sleep had been somewhat
broken, as we happen to know, what with the
coming of specters and such things. On this
account every one of the four soon dropped off
asleep.

Jack could hear Jimmie breathing heavily
in less than ten minutes. Apparently Jack
had something on his mind, for leaning over
toward where he could see Josh sitting he
asked in a low tone:

“How is it there, Josh; is Herb asleep yet?”

“I guess he must be,” came the answer; “because
he’s snoring to beat the band, even if he
don’t make much noise.”

“That’s where you made a mistake, for it’s
Nick doing that. Listen again, and you’ll see
I’m right. And George was yawning when he
turned in, so I reckon he’s gone over the border,
too.”

“What do you want to know for?” asked
Josh, aware that Jack must have some reason
for asking such a question.

“I’ll tell you, Josh. I mean to go ashore
soon,” replied the skipper of the *Tramp*.

“Thunder! do you really mean it, Jack?”
queried Josh, taken aback; for it would have
to be something tremendous that could tempt
him to set a foot on that same island in the
night time.

“Listen, Josh,” Jack went on.

“I am, with all my ears, so go right on,”
the other sent back over the few feet of water
separating the two boats they occupied.

“I didn’t say anything about it to the rest,
Josh, but I think I saw a gleam of that lantern
ashore a while back. And I’d like to investigate
a little.”

“Oh, my! you wouldn’t catch me trying
it,” declared Josh, with an intake of breath
that told of suppressed excitement. “But will
you take your gun along?”

“Perhaps I’d better, though I don’t really
expect to use it,” Jack replied. “Because,
you see, ghosts can’t be reached with common
lead pellets. But I want you to help me
Josh.”

“Me? Oh! please don’t ask me to go along,
Jack. That lame foot of mine has been hurting
again like anything, and I’m that clumsy
I might tumble all over myself and give the
thing away.”

“Oh, shucks! I don’t mean that,” Jack replied.
“But when that big cloud sails over
the moon I want to slip into my little dinky
here, and paddle quietly ashore. I’ll hand you
the rope I’ve got tied to the stern; and when
you feel that shake three times, pull the boat
out again, and let it float with yours. Understand?”

“Yes, yes. And I’ll do it all right, never
fear. If it wasn’t for that plagued lame foot,
now, Jack.”

“Let up on that, please. Now, look out,
there she goes under.”

Even as Jack spoke the moon said goodbye
to the world for a short time, and hid her
smiling face behind a cloud that was darker
than any that had thus far sailed across the
starry heavens on this particular night.

Being all ready, Jack crept into the small
tender, gun in hand. He pushed alongside the
Wireless and managed to pass the end of a
rope to Josh, who was waiting to receive the
same.

Gently the paddle was wielded, and the
little “punkin-seed of a boat,” as the boys
sometimes termed the dinkies, was noiselessly
wafted shoreward. Landing, Jack shifted his
person to the sand, and then gave the requisite
number of tugs at the rope, after which
he shoved the boat off.

He knew that Josh would attend to all that
part of the business, and gave it no further
heed. Indeed, he had all he wanted to take
care of in following out the rather venturesome
plan of campaign he had arranged.

For somehow Jack was of the opinion that
the mystery of the island was to be revealed
to any one daring enough to go ashore and
investigate, which was just what he had determined
to do.

CHAPTER XVII—THE SECRET OUT
===========================

Out came the moon again, sailing into a
clear field.

But Jack no longer stood there on the little
beach. He had taken time by the forelock,
and slipped among the rank growth; so that
although Josh strained his eyes to the utmost,
not the faintest sign of his comrade did he
discover.

Jack’s idea, of course, was to reach the
vicinity of that tumbledown shack. In his
mind, that must be the central point of interest
in the game. He fully believed, though he
had not mentioned the fact to the rest, that
the attempt to frighten the boys off with such
a ridiculous show of a pretended spirit waving
them away, was meant to cover this cabin.

What did it all mean? Why should any
man, or set of men, wish to keep others from
prowling around that rickety building? Surely,
any one with common sense would hardly
think to occupy it for a night’s refuge. The
open air would be far more preferable in every
way.

Still, Jack was positive that there was something
in connection with this same cabin that
moved the unknown parties to endeavor to
influence an early departure on the part of
the motor boys.

And he wanted to know what that mystery
might be.

That was why he had come ashore so silently.
It also accounted for his creeping along
through the bushes as carefully as he knew
how, avoiding the trail which he and Josh
had followed on that other occasion.

It took him considerable time to draw near
the vicinity of the cabin, because he wanted
to go without making any noise; and he was
not positive but that hostile eyes and ears
might not be on the alert.

Twice some sudden little sound close by
had sent a thrill of alarm through his heart.
But nothing followed, and he realized that
these noises must have been made by some
little animal, disturbed in his retreat by the
creeping past of the intruder.

Jack had made a discovery before he was
more than half way between the beach of the
cove and the cabin. There was a light inside
the old building! He could see little glimpses
of it through what must be holes in the walls,
where the chinks between the logs were open,
the mud having fallen away in the process of
decay.

And as Jack said to himself with a chuckle,
ghosts did not, as far as he knew, need lanterns
in their business.

Finally the boy found himself close to the
side of the cabin. With his heart beating like
a trip-hammer, he crept to the first little gap
in the wall, and glued his eyes to the aperture.

What he saw was nothing so very astonishing.
A man stood inside the cabin, holding
a lantern. He was not doing anything, and
seemed to be waiting for some other person.

“One of the fellows in that boat today,”
was what Jack immediately said to himself,
as he fastened his eyes on the bearded face.

Even inexperienced as he was, Jack fancied
that there was something of a desperate type
about the man’s countenance. He did not
seem to be such a man as one was apt to trust
on sight—like that jolly professor from Ann
Arbor, for instance.

But what on earth could the man be doing
here? He did not seem to have any sort of
bundles with him, as might have been expected.
Once Jack was made to shiver just
a trifle, when he saw the fellow take out a pistol,
and handle it with a grin of pleasure on
his face.

Jack was beginning to see light. This could
not be simply the ordinary desire of some
fishermen who disliked seeing strangers occupying
a cove they had come to look upon as
theirs by right of previous use.

And this man he now saw had none of the
characteristics of a rough fisherman. He was
rather nattily dressed, and would pass for
a gentleman in a crowd. The mystery seemed
to grow more dense; but as it is always darkest
just before dawn, so Jack believed that
he must be on the point of seeing daylight
appear in this matter.

By chance he raised his eyes a trifle. Perhaps
some little movement may have attracted
him—he never knew. But again he was
thrilled to discover a face pressed against the
broken pane of glass forming the sole window
on the opposite wall.

It was the strange gentleman who had
claimed to be a college professor. He did
not wear his nose glasses now, and doubtless
the look of culture had given way to one of
an entirely different nature; but Jack knew
he could not be mistaken.

Nor was he so very much surprised, come
to think of it. He had half anticipated something
of this sort, at the time he heard what
seemed to be the peculiar chug! chug! of the
noisy motor belonging to that snub-nosed boat.
The professor had indeed come back to the
haunted island; nor had he thought it advisable
to inform his new boy friends of his return.

Had Josh been there to see, he must have
surely jumped to the conclusion that it was
his wild desire to set eyes on a ghost that had
lured the professor back.

Jack looked at the matter from an entirely
different standpoint. He, for instance, did not
believe that the gentleman was one-half so
much interested in mysterious visitations from
departed spirits as he was in the movements
of certain persons who might be engaged in
a trade that shunned the light of day, because
it was by nature evil, and in defiance to the
laws.

And this party who stood there, holding
that lantern and waiting, was evidently something
in the line of a leader.

Only for a brief space of time did the so-called
professor remain at that broken window;
then he vanished from the view of the
watching boy. But it gave Jack considerable
satisfaction and confidence just to know that
Herman Marshland was near by.

Already he had his hand upon the solution
of the whole puzzle that had been eluding his
best efforts up to now. And just like Columbus
discovering America, it was so exceedingly
simple, once you knew how, that Jack silently
laughed at himself for not having grasped the
prize answer before now.

Smugglers, that was what the rough-looking
men in the boats were! This must be a central
point with them, where for some time
they had secretly landed the goods ferried
over from the nearby Canadian shore. Here
on American territory they were perhaps
secreted until such favorable opportunity arrived
to send them further afield into the
sovereign State of New York, when all trace
of them would be lost to any government
agents who might be prowling around on the
lookout for such law-breakers.

Since coming to the St. Lawrence the boys
had heard more or less about such a class of
persons, who made it their business to try and
evade the revenue men. In some cases it was
Chinamen they shipped across the border, receiving
so much per head to get them into the
protected country. Then again it meant laces,
diamonds, silks, anything that was small in
dimensions, but upon which the government at
Washington levied a heavy toll.

Pleased with having guessed the secret,
Jack could not think of slipping away. It
might be none of his business what these
bold and bad men were doing; but somehow
he could not help feeling a deep interest in
the movements of the man who had visited
them that very afternoon, and made such a
hit with the boys.

Of course the pretended college professor
must really be one of those sagacious revenue
men, engaged in running these rascals to
earth.

Besides, the “professor” might need help,
and Jack was of a mind to render such a service
if the chance came. A strange freak of
fortune seem to have thrown them in contact
with these warring factions; and while some
timid people might consider it the height of
folly for any one of the boys to take sides,
Jack’s bold spirit would never allow of his
standing there and seeing the man who represented
law and order outclassed.

He half expected to see the “professor”
step into the cabin through the doorway, and
call upon the unknown man to surrender. But
then, as there was as yet no evidence of crime,
possibly a cautious revenue agent would be
apt to hold his horses and await further developments.

A sound came faintly to the ears of the
crouching lad—voices of several persons, and
approaching the cabin at that.

Jack dared not keep his position, with his
eye glued to the crack; there was a chance
that he might be discovered; and so, although
he wanted to look more than ever, he dropped
flat upon the earth and waited.

At any rate, he had made no mistake about
others approaching, for presently he knew
they had entered the cabin. After that he
ventured to look again. Yes, two rough-looking
fellows had entered, and were already
conversing in low but eager tones with the
one who had waited for their coming.

Seeing was all very well, but just then Jack
thought that if he could only hear what was
passing between these fellows he would have
the last bit of fog cleared away. To this end
he clapped his ear against the side of the cabin
at the very point where the mud had fallen,
leaving a hole in the chinks between the logs.

Nor was he mistaken when he believed he
might pick up some of the words passing
between the men. The two newcomers seemed
more or less worried about something, and
kept urging delay; but the leader would have
none of it, apparently.

“Antoine,” he said, gruffly, “you go and
watch the three boats lying in the cove. If
there’s any sign of life about them, come back
and warn us. We must get those goods ashore
tonight. It’s too risky holding them any
longer. And one of the cubs might break
away, to inform on us. That would ruin all.
Bart, you be off and start things moving this
way. I know the new trail is rough and long,
but it can’t be helped. Next time we’ll have
things back the old way again. These kids
ain’t going to hold on much longer. Now, both
of you be off!”

CHAPTER XVIII—THE ESCAPE
========================

When the tall leader spoke in that stern
voice, evidently his men knew better than to
put up any further complaint. They both
passed out, and Jack could hear Antoine making
his way down the broad trail to gain a
point where, hidden himself, he could still
watch the trio of modern motor boats, and discover
the first indication of any desire on the
part of the crews to come ashore.

It was surely growing very interesting.
Jack felt that he was being treated to a real
life drama of the most thrilling description.
When the boys decided to come to the St.
Lawrence river for their summer outing, not
one among them dreamed that before they left
that region of many islands they would have
run up against a series of strange adventures
well worthy of being given a place in the
log of the motor boat club.

Indeed, all the trouble they had anticipated
was possibly frequent ructions with Tricky
Clarence and his side partner, Bully Joe
Brinker.

At thought of the two a sudden idea seemed
to flash through the mind of Jack. He remembered
the event of the dark boat, when Herb
and Dick were given such a fright. At the
time he had wondered whether Clarence, on
his own account, could have ventured to dash
by at full speed, and come within an ace of
smashing into the Comfort. The new idea was
along the line that perhaps the two boys might
have fallen into the hands of the smugglers,
who were using the Flash to suit their evil
purposes!

It was so stunning a thought that Jack felt
his very breath taken away. Yet after all
was there anything utterly improbable about
it? These men must be daring after their
fashion. They were being hunted all the time
by shrewd government agents; and consequently
must adopt new methods of carrying
on their business.

And if it were indeed true, would it not
account for many things—the white face of
Clarence at the time he passed the boys who
were fishing—his refusal to even answer the
wave of the hand they gave him—he may have
been in no position at the time to appear
jovial, or even half-way friendly.

Voices again!

Jack moved up to his crack, prepared to
see all there was going on. Such a glorious
opportunity did not come across the path of
most fellows, off on their summer vacation;
and he ought to improve the golden chance to
the limit.

It would be folly not to admit that the boy
was trembling as he crouched there, for he
never denied the fact himself. But after all
it was more the excitement of the adventure
than any bodily fear on his part that caused
this.

He had hardly settled himself comfortably
when through the doorway came a stooping
figure. It was a man bearing a package on his
back. This he deposited on the earthen floor,
and turned to assist a second fellow whose
bundle seemed of even larger dimensions than
the first.

One of them had also fetched a shovel along,
which had a long handle. This the leader
seized upon eagerly, and commenced digging
in a certain corner, first removing the accumulated
straw, which was apparently used as a
means for hiding signs of recent disturbance.

Jack’s eyes grew hot with straining at the
little crack; but he could not draw himself
away; it was all so thrilling, so picturesque,
that he must continue to look, no matter what
the discomfort.

Now, the man with the shovel had succeeded
in arriving at what seemed to be the lid of a
large box. He lifted this, and one of the men
tossed his bundle into a yawning aperture.

Here the stuff would lie unsuspected, until
some time when the opportunity seemed ripe
to dispose of it, when the deal would be completed.

Jack wondered what could be in those packages;
undoubtedly something of particular
value, since these men would never venture
to take such chances of capture for a trifling
gain.

He also found himself guessing whether the
strange “professor,” whom he now knew to
be a government agent, could be watching all
these operations from some other friendly
crack across the way.

What would he do? Having witnessed all
he wished, would the other attempt to arrest
these fellows? Since there seemed to be something
like half a dozen of the smugglers it
hardly seemed likely he would go to such extremes.
Possibly he might be satisfied to capture
the spoils, after the men had departed;
and trust to future good fortune to arrest the
delinquents later on.

One of the men left the cabin, probably to
return to the upper end of the island, where
the boat lay from which these packages of
goods had been carried. He was in an ugly
humor, judging from his manner. The stubborn
way in which the motor boat boys stuck
to that cove was giving these worthies a tremendous
lot of unnecessary work; and it was
no wonder they felt badly disposed toward
Jack and his chums.

Five minutes later the second man was sent
off, leaving the leader there to finish up the
job of smoothing off the earth and replacing
the broken straw as before.

When he had finally completed his task it
would require a practiced eye to notice anything
queer about the floor of the cabin.

Then he, too, prepared to depart. Jack saw
him stoop down and take hold of the lantern,
which had all this while been resting on the
ground. In his other hand he carried the long-handled
shovel with which the digging had
been done.

The tall man straightened up suddenly, and
his manner was that of one who had been
startled. Jack knew why he should act in
this way, for the same sound that had come to
the man’s ears had also reached his.

It was a shrill whistle, twice repeated, and
it came from the same direction in which the
two men had gone a short time before.

Undoubtedly it was a signal denoting urgent
need of haste. The actions of the tall smuggler
would indicate as much; for he dashed
out of the cabin like a shot, and Jack heard the
thud as he threw the shovel into the shrubbery
surrounding the lone hut.

Then followed the crashing of bushes as the
man started by a circuitous route toward the
upper end of the island. He must know every
foot of the ground, and by taking to the open
beach, could gain a given point much sooner
than one who kept to the thick undergrowth.

Jack saw the lantern had been hastily
dropped, though it was still burning. He was
trembling with excitement, and feeling very
much as though he wanted to yell at the top
of his voice as he picked up this abandoned
tool of the discovered smugglers.

He could hear the boys talking down there
where the trio of motor boats were anchored;
and could imagine how they must be wondering
what all the racket on the island meant;
while Josh would doubtless start in to tell
them how he, Jack, had persisted in going
ashore.

Some one was coming, for Jack could hear
quick footsteps near by. He still held his
Marlin gun, but was loath to even threaten
to use it. Nor was there any need, for a
moment later the moving dim figure took
form, and proved to be no other than Professor
Marshland.

At sight of Jack standing there, lantern in
one hand and gun in the other, the gentleman
allowed something like a grim smile to creep
over his face, even as he came hurrying up,
almost out of breath from his exertions.

“Do you know what it all means, Jack?”
demanded the other, as soon as he reached the
side of the boy.

Jack nodded his head eagerly.

“I was looking in through a crack, and saw
what that man did. But I’m sorry he got
away from you, sir,” he replied.

“I managed to capture the two fellows who
left the hut!” the government agent exclaimed.
“My Indian has meanwhile overcome
the chap who was sent to watch your
boats. But unless I can overtake the ring
leader of the bunch, I shall feel that my work
has not been wholly a success.”

“He headed for the upper end of the
island,” Jack put in.

“Yes, and I have reason to suspect that the
other two men are there with the boat. You
will be surprised when I tell you that they
actually turned pirates and captured the speed
launch which you told me belonged to an
acquaintance of yours.”

“The *Flash*,” echoed Jack. “No, I am not
surprised, for I had begun to suspect something
like that. They must have made Clarence
threaten to run us down, hoping we
would pull up anchor, and get away. But if
that is so, you could never hope to overtake
them in that slow little boat of yours.”

“Well, I should say not!” declared the
other.

“Now, if it were the *Wireless*, for instance,
you might have some chance,” Jack went on.

“Which is just the point I wanted to put
up to you boys,” cried the government agent,
eagerly. “Would you be willing to assist me
run that clever scoundrel down? Do you think
George would care to try conclusions with the
*Flash*?”

At that Jack laughed.

“Why, sir,” he declared, “he’s been just
wild for the chance, ever since we first set eyes
on that narrow boat. He believes he can beat
her out in a race. Suppose you come down
with me right now, and we’ll ask him.”

“Thank you, Jack; it was a lucky day for
me when I ran across you boys. But let us
lose no time; for doubtless they’ll be off as
soon as they can, knowing that the game is
now up, and all that remains to them is
escape.”

Nothing loth, Jack accompanied him as he
started along the broad trail leading down to
the cove. He could readily understand now
that the revenue man must have investigated
to some purpose that day while at the cabin;
and knowing there were no smuggled goods in
the cache then, had laid his plans to come
back in the night, in the expectation of catching
the rascals in the act; which was just
what he had done.

CHAPTER XIX—A RACE IN THE MOONLIGHT
===================================

“Hold on!” said the agent abruptly.

A dark figure had risen up before them; and
as the moonlight fell upon the man Jack saw
that it was in truth the Indian guide who had
been with the “professor” in the noisy motor
boat.

“Did you get him, Josh?” demanded the employer,
eagerly.

“He lies under hemlock, tied hand and foot.
No danger he get away,” came the confident
reply.

“All right,” said the other. “Come along
with me, John. These boys will guard the
cabin and not let any one steal the hidden
goods. We have other work cut out for us. We
want to get our hands on that head man, Glenwood.
So long as he is at large there can be
no peace on the border.”

Great was the astonishment of the five boys
when Jack and his companions made their appearance
on the shore, and the former called to
have the small boats pushed in, so that they
might come aboard.

“Jack, what’s all this mean?” asked George,
greatly excited.

“Can’t tell you everything just now, fellows,”
the other replied. “This gentleman is
a government revenue agent, and he’s on the
track of a band of smugglers who have been
using this island as a place to land goods
brought over from Canada. He captured
three, but the leader got away. George, he
wants to borrow your boat.”

“What?” gasped the other, astounded beyond
measure.

“He and his man and myself will go with
you, Josh changing over,” Jack continued.
“While we’re gone the rest of you keep on the
watch and don’t let anybody come aboard, no
matter who he is. These scoundrels have captured
the *Flash*.”

“Now, what d’ye know about that?” exclaimed
Nick, as he helped Josh over the side
of the big *Comfort*, so as to make room for the
others who were to go in the speed boat.

“But George, you haven’t said yet whether
you are willing to chase the *Flash*, and try to
overtake her?” said the energetic agent.

“Sure I am,” came the ready response; “and
I believe we can get her, if nothing happens to
my motor. I’ve had some hard luck with it
when I tried to push the thing to the limit.
But tumble in here, and we’ll be off.”

George was trembling with delightful anticipations.
If anything in all the world appealed
to him it was a race. None of the others had
the same feeling, and, like Jack, they preferred
comfort in a boat beyond speed, though none
were averse to making good time.

Everybody wanted to help, and as many
hands make light work, the *Wireless* was in
condition to start almost as soon as the two
men climbed aboard.

“Sit as near the middle as you can, please,
to balance her,” the others heard the skipper
say, as she shot away.

“Yes,” called out Nick, derisively, “and be
sure your hair is parted in the middle, or it’s
all up with you. I know, because I was there
for some four weeks.”

“Which way, sir?” asked George, wisely
paying no attention to this shout, which, after
all, was Nick’s only method for getting even,
after all the agony he had endured in that
cranky narrow motor boat.

“Turn to port, and head for the upper part
of the island. We haven’t wasted much time,
and I hope to discover that boat somewhere,”
replied the agent.

“If we do,” said George, with firmness,
“make up your mind the good old *Wireless* is
going to hang on like a bulldog till she cuts
down the lead, and overhauls that *Flash*. Always
said she had the look of a pirate, and
others thought the same thing, it seems, since
those men picked her out as the boat they could
use.”

“Just think of Clarence and Joe being in
their hands all this time,” remarked Jack, as
they tore through the water. “Must seem like
a pretty tough vacation for those boys, all
right.”

“Oh! I don’t suppose Glenwood has really
harmed them,” said the agent; “but he’s a
hard man to deal with; and unless they
knuckled down to him perhaps they’ve felt his
fist before now. I’m hoping that, perhaps,
when Clarence sees who is after him he may
find some way to slow down and let us overhaul
him.”

George only laughed at this and remarked:

“That’s because you don’t know Clarence,
sir. He hates me like poison, and sooner than
have me beat him with my boat I believe he’d
take the chances of staying in the power of
those smugglers for a month. Oh! no, when
he sees who is after him he’ll put things at
top-notch speed, and try every trick he knows
how to win out. But I’m not afraid, if only
things go right with my engine.”

“Look yonder!” cried the eagle-eyed agent
just then, the Indian having pulled his coat
sleeve and pointed ahead.

“Say, that’s her, as sure as fate!” cried
George, as he altered the course of his own
boat a little.

“And they know we’re after them, too,”
remarked Jack.

“Then the race is on; and good luck attend
the better boat,” said the government agent,
coolly taking out a cigar, biting off the end,
and proceeding to apply a lighted match to the
same.

They were fairly flying through the water.
On either side the waves parted, and rolled
over smothered in foam; while in their wake
a roller kept following close on their heels.

“Twenty miles if anything?” the gentleman
guessed.

“More than that, sir,” replied the skipper,
proudly; “but she can do better still. I’ve got
another notch to let out if I have to. Don’t
want to take the chances unless it’s positively
necessary; because you see the quivering rattles
her so much. Are we holding our own,
do you think, Jack?”

“I am sure of that,” came the reply. “And
if you asked me again I’d say we are gaining
a little all the while.”

“Bully old *Wireless!*” exclaimed George, his
voice filled with pride. “She can do the stunt
all right if only something don’t happen to
throw us out of our gear. She’s a wonder,
that’s what, and I’ve always said so. Talk
about sprinting, did you ever go as fast as this
in a small boat, sir?”

“I certainly never have,” replied the government
agent; and from the way he was staggering
around, clutching hold of every object
that promised to keep him erect, it looked as
though he might just as well have added: “and
Heaven deliver me from ever experiencing it
again.”

“Everybody keep a sharp lookout for rocks
or anything of the sort,” said George; “because
those men must know this region like a
book, and it would be just like ’em to lead us
in a trap, so we’d be wrecked.”

“Yes, you’re correct there, George,” observed
the agent, “and I give you credit for
having a long head. That’s the kind of chaps
you’re up against right now, full of trickery;
desperate men, whose one idea is escape.”

“This moonlight is all right as long as the
other boat isn’t any further away than she is,”
remarked George a minute or two later.

“I’m sorry to state that you can’t count on
the candle up in the sky much longer,” remarked
the gentleman; “for there is a suspicious
bank of black clouds hovering near,
and at any time she’s apt to be eclipsed.”

“All right,” and George laughed a bit hysterically,
since he was laboring under so great
a strain of excitement. “Jack, would you mind
attending to my searchlight. Then we’ll be
ready for the trouble when she comes.”

And a couple of minutes later, when the
dark mask did cover the face of the moon, a
long vivid white gleam reached out from the
brass searchlight on the forward deck of the
quivering speed boat. It widened as it extended
in the distance; and plainly seen was
the flitting craft they pursued. The position
of the *Flash* could be detected better by means
of the white foam-tipped waves thrown aside
by her swift passage, rather than by viewing
the boat itself.

“That’s splendid!” remarked the government
agent, as he looked along this lane of
illumination, and watched the desperate struggles
of the *Flash* to outrun her determined
pursuers.

“Still picking up on her, ain’t we, Jack?”
asked George, after a little.

“No doubt about that, I think,” came the
reply. “And I guess you were right when you
declared the good old *Wireless* was the better
boat. She can certainly walk over the water
some. I would enjoy this more if it was day-time.”

“I guess we all would,” laughed the gentleman,
still gripping hold of the brass rail
to make sure he might not be plunged overboard
should anything suddenly go wrong.

“If only the engine behaves half-way decent,”
sighed George. “She’s doing nobly
right now, though, ain’t she, Jack? But I hope
they don’t toll us in among the rocks. If we
ever come slap up against one at this rate
there’s going to be some high vaulting, I tell
you. Whew! did you see that one sticking out
of the water? I just swerved in time, though.
Keep watching, everybody, and tell me quick
if you see anything ugly ahead!”

Their pace was not abated a particle, even
though George knew that new perils were
strewn in their course. If that other boat
ahead could speed through this same tortuous
channel he believed he dared take the same
chances. And George had always been reckoned
a daring boy by his schoolmates, in football
games or on the diamond; so that this
venturesome spirit was no new freak on his
part.

It was only by the greatest effort that he
refrained from throwing on the last atom of
speed, and hastening the overtaking of the
fugitive motor boat.

They were rushing on at this tremendous
pace, and constantly gaining, when George
gave vent to a sudden loud exclamation.

CHAPTER XX—OVERHAULED
=====================

Jack had seen the same object that had given
George such a start. Across the white path
of illumination thrown forward by the powerful
little acetylene searchlight, a shadowy,
moving thing suddenly appeared.

It was a sailboat, beating up against a head
wind, and aiming to reach its home port while
the possibility of moonlight lasted.

Whatever tempted the man at the tiller to
try and cross between the swift moving motor
boats no one might ever know. But it was
the nearest to a collision, without an actual
calamity, Jack had ever experienced.

He instinctively understood that the only
thing that would prevent the *Wireless* from
plunging into the luckless sailboat would be
a prompt reversal on the part of the skipper at
the wheel. And such an action was apt to endanger
the working abilities of the *Wireless’*
engine, never too trustworthy under a strain.

Had George failed, Jack stood ready to butt
in and execute the speed maneuver; for this
was a case that would admit of no ceremony.
Life and death might be in the balance.

But, fortunately, George kept his head. He
instantly did what was necessary, and the tremendous
forward movement of the rushing
speed boat was instantly checked.

Indeed, so astonishing was the change that
the government agent came near plunging
headlong over the rail into the river. Jack
stretched out a hand and caught him just in
time. As for the Indian, he sprawled on all
fours in the bottom of the craft, trying to keep
his head from bumping against some obstacle.

But Jack was delighted to see that the engine
had actually redeemed itself; for it still continued
to work at the old stand.

The adventurous sailboat glided out of the
way, so close that the sharp bow of the *Wireless*
almost touched the boom that was hauled
well in during the tacking process. A couple
of white, scared faces could be seen for two
seconds; and then the sailboat was engulfed
in the shadows that lay on either side, out
beyond range of that searchlight radius.

“Bully for her!” gulped George, almost unable
to articulate under the tremendous strain,
yet thinking only of the able work of his
engine.

“Speed her up again, George; but not with a
rush!” called Jack.

Looking ahead he saw that, just as he expected,
the *Flash* had managed to take advantage of the
momentary detention of her
rival, and increased the distance separating
them.

“That was tough luck!” said the government
agent; “but I owe you thanks for saving
me from a wet jacket, my boy.”

“I guess we’re fortunate not to have
smashed into that silly crowd, and played hob
with everything,” Jack remarked.

“But look where they are,” groaned the
anxious George. “Just about as far ahead as
in the start; and it’s all got to be done over
again. Oh; what fools some men are when
they get in a boat. All they had to do was to
come up in the wind till the procession passed.
Instead, they tried to butt in, and came near
spoiling the whole game. What shall we do,
Jack?”

“Do you want me to say what I’d do if this
was my boat?” asked the other.

“Sure I do,” George spoke up. “They’ve
got some clever trick ahead, and may lose us
yet. You notice that they hardly make any
noise, even while the muffler isn’t working.
That boat was just made for a smuggler, or a
pirate. But go on, Jack, tell me.”

“All right,” said the other. “You see how
well your engine is going. She’s had all the
freak rubbed off her, I guess, and is now buckling
right down to business. And honestly,
George, I believe you can trust her with that
reserve notch of speed! I’d try it, if I were
you.”

“Now, I’m glad to hear you say that, Jack,”
exclaimed the skipper, eagerly. “For during
that other trip my engine played so many
pranks that she got a black eye among my
chums. If so be she’s settled down to a steady
stage, the sooner I know it the better. I’ll be
delighted to find it out. So here goes. Steady,
all; hold on tight!”

The government agent, not knowing what to
expect, for they were as near flying now as he
ever expected to get, thought the policy of his
crafty Indian helper worth imitating. So he
simply dropped down in the body of the boat
and braced himself against a shock.

But there was none. When George applied
that last little reserve bit of power a slight
jump forward resulted; and then after that
the only difference seemed to be that they drew
up on the fugitive *Flash* hand over hand.

George was nearly wild with delight. To
him the fact that his cranky engine had finally
determined to be good and do the duty which
her makers had meant she should, far outweighed
all else. So far as he was concerned
it did not matter much whether the three men
in the *Flash* were captured or not; but it was
an affair of exceeding importance that the
good, reliable old *Wireless* should overhaul its
rival in this masterly manner.

“See her hump herself, Jack!” he ejaculated,
as he balanced himself in the swaying
craft, and peered eagerly ahead toward the
other boat. “Ain’t she coming up nobly,
though? Talk to me about the *Flash* making
circles around us; why, she ain’t in the same
class with this same old *Wireless*. Oh! but
this pays me for all the troubles I’ve had in
the past. I can hardly keep from yelling,
Jack!”

“Better quit that monkey business, then,”
cautioned the other. “You need all your wind
and eyesight and everything else right now in
handling such a greyhound.”

That just about finished George.

“Thank you, Jack, for giving her that fine
name. But she deserves it,” he said. “I
understand what you mean; and, believe me,
I’ll try to hold my spirits in check until the
game is won. I’d hate to have any accident
happen now, I tell you.”

And he did buckle down to business with new
determination and grit, grasping the vibrating
wheel with all his strength, and watching to
see just what the tricky skipper of that other
craft might do. For George knew Clarence
only too well, nor would he put anything past
the other when it came down to cunning.

They were now so close that it was easy to
see everything taking place on board the fleeing
*Flash*. Clarence was at the wheel, and
several figures crouched along either side, evidently
holding on for dear life. One was in the
stern, and Jack had little difficulty in making
him out as the tall man he had first seen in
the old cabin, and whom the agent had called
Glenwood.

“Looks like we would run alongside in less
than five minutes, sir,” observed George, trying
to steady his voice, but hardly succeeding,
for his nerves were tingling in a manner he
had seldom if ever experienced before.

“Keep just a little to the left, then,” answered
the agent. “And watch out, for it is
barely possible they may try to foul us at the
last, hoping to escape in the confusion.”

Jack was changing his mind now about that
same thing. He had an idea that perhaps
Clarence had played a trick on the men who
held him in custody; he may not have let out
all the speed of which the *Flash* was capable.
Besides, now that the race seemed virtually
over, and the *Wireless* had proven the superior
why should he want to bring about a collision
that would wreck both boats, as well as endanger
the lives of all the occupants?

“Steady, George, steady!” Jack cautioned,
as he thought he saw a slight change in the
course taken by the boat ahead.

“Duck down, boys; he’s going to try and
scare us by firing!” suddenly said the keen-eyed
government agent.

Even George managed to partly drop, so as
to be shielded by the forward deck. And that
the revenue man had guessed correctly was
made evident when there broke out the sharp
report of a revolver. Jack even believed he
could hear the peculiar whine of the flying
bullet as it passed over the boat.

“Stay where you are!” cried the agent;
“that was only one. He’s got a few more of the
same kind to follow!”

There came other shots in rapid succession.
Really, it would not be surprising if George
lost his head under such circumstances, for
usually it takes a veteran to preserve his coolness
under fire. But, singular to state, the
nervous one of the motor boys now proved
that he could shut his teeth together and hold
on tenaciously with bulldog courage.

The *Wireless* may have wavered just a little,
but still kept swiftly on, diminishing the narrow
lead of her rival with constant rapidity
and steadiness.

“That’s all!” called the revenue man, as the
sixth shot sounded; and every one felt a perceptible
thud, telling that this time the desperate
smuggler had lowered his aim, and that
the bullet had struck the boat somewhere.
“And as it’s a poor rule that won’t work both
ways, perhaps I can have a little better luck
in scaring some one. Watch out, George, and
be ready to stop short if he does!”

With that he threw out his arm, and instantly
there was a flash and a report.

“Oh!” exclaimed George, startled in spite
of the warning.

Jack’s heart was fluttering with excitement.
He also felt something like regret that Clarence
was there in line with the fire. Though
the agent might be only seeking to frighten the
boy at the wheel of the *Flash*, still something
serious was apt to happen. Jack wished in his
soul that it was all over and nobody injured.

The *Flash* began to wabble badly, showing
that Clarence was trying to shield himself
from the battery in the rear, something which
he would find it hard to do.

Jack stood ready to lend a hand in case of
an emergency that George might seem unable
to manage alone.

And it was right at that critical moment,
just when light was needed most of all, that the
fickle moon shot out from behind the bank of
clouds, illuminating the surface of the broad
St. Lawrence, dotted still with islands, upon
which in many cases cottages could be seen.

Jack thought that was a good omen; but
there was no time to spend in reflection. Another
sharp report close to his ear told that
the revenue man believed in following up a
good thing. He knew that Clarence was on
the point of surrender, and intended to strike
while the iron was hot.

“Look out, George!”

Jack shouted this warning in the ear of his
chum, for the leading motor boat had suddenly
slackened her speed, the quick pulsation of her
engine having ceased to beat upon the air.

Instantly the motor of the *Wireless* followed
suit; and driven forward by the impetus of her
“push,” she shot alongside the other craft,
not three feet away.

Jack breathed easier, for he saw now that a
collision was not to follow. The nerve of Clarence
had possibly failed him at the climax; and
his last move had been to stop his engine, before
dropping flat in the bottom of his boat.

“Over into her, John! We must make prisoners
here!” shouted the agent, as he balanced
on the rail of the *Wireless*, and in so doing
almost brought that side of the narrow-beam
boat awash.

“There he goes, sir!” called Jack.

A big splash followed, as a figure sprang
from the opposite side of the other boat. Evidently
the desperate smuggler, as a last resort,
had taken to the water, in the hope that he
might yet baffle his pursuers, and escape to
the Canada shore.

Jack had snatched up a boathook with a
brass knobbed end. This he fastened to the
rail of the *Flash*, and exerting all his strength,
began to draw the two boats closer together, so
that the revenue agent and his assistant might
make the transfer safely.

He saw them leap across, and felt the boat
rock violently under the strain; but not for an
instant did he let go his hold. There was something
of a rumpus going on aboard the *Flash*,
as though the government men might be struggling
with the two smugglers whom they found
there, lacking in nerve to follow after their
leader, or else not knowing how to swim. But
in another minute these sounds ceased, from
which he guessed that the pair had been subdued.

CHAPTER XXI—A CLEAN SWEEP
=========================

“Jack!”

It was the revenue man calling, and he appeared
at the side of the other boat.

“Yes, what is it, sir?” replied the lad who
held the boathook.

“I’m coming over again,” continued the
other. “I hate to let that clever rascal get
away; and we must try to pick him up. Hold
steady now.”

The transfer was made without any accident,
though both boats careened wildly under
the strain, thanks to their sharp keels, fashioned
only with an eye to making speed.

“I see him, sir!” cried George, as he once
more started his engine, and began to curve
around the now stationary *Flash*.

Jack could also readily pick up the swimmer.
Evidently Glenwood must have kicked
off his shoes, and divested himself of coat and
vest, before jumping overboard; for he was
making splendid progress through the water,
using a hand-over-hand stroke.

This necessitated more or less churning of
the water, however, and since the moon persisted
in playing into the hands of his enemies
by staying out steadily, his course was readily
seen.

They bore down rapidly upon him, once the
boat had been turned around. But Jack knew
only too well that a strong and desperate
swimmer would be apt to give his pursuers a
hard pull before they could get him. If Glenwood
knew his business, as seemed evident, he
would hold himself in readiness to duck under,
just when they thought to reach over and
grasp him.

“Now, steady while I nab him!” said the
revenue man, leaning over the bow.

“He’s gone under, sir!” cried Jack, who
was holding on to that serviceable boathook,
with the idea that possibly he might find a
chance to get it fast in the garments of the
man in the water.

“Yes, I expected that,” replied the other.
“And of course we don’t know just where
he’ll come up again. Our only chance is to
keep him going until even his iron muscles
weaken. We hold the advantage, boys. Look
on that side, Jack, and I’ll take care of this.
George, be ready to work around or back up,
as the case may be.”

Ten seconds later and Jack called out:

“Here he is, on this side, George!”

Then began one of the queerest experiences
Jack had ever participated in. All of his hare
and hound and paper chases must sink into
insignificance after this hunt; for a desperate
man was seeking to effect his escape.

Glenwood would wait until they were close
upon him, meanwhile trying to recuperate.
Then, at the critical instant, he would sink out
of sight, and swim under water to the other
side of the boat, or the rear, never ahead. In
this way he kept them guessing; and besides,
after the boat was started it was necessary for
them to make more or less of a circuit before
they could bear down on the fugitive again.

“What does he hope to gain by all this,
sir?” asked George, when they had missed the
swimmer for the fourth time, and were waiting
for him to appear again.

“Oh! Glenwood is a keen one,” replied the
government agent. “Depend on it he has several
irons in the fire. Perhaps he expects to
get a chance to land on the Canadian shore,
where I could not very well chase him. Then
again he keeps hoping that our good friend,
the moon, will kindly hide again. That would
give him all the opportunity he wants to come
up, get a breath, and vanish without being
seen. There he is, George; back up this time!”

So the merry chase continued—at least it
may have seemed that to the two boys, but
must have assumed a more serious aspect
with the man they were after. Jack could not
but admire the nerve and audacity of the
swimmer. He even secretly began to hope
Glenwood might get away; for after all it was
none of their business, though the fellow was
really a criminal, in that he was breaking the
laws of the land.

But George had entered heart and soul into
the game, and was determined to do all he
could to assist the revenue man. He backed
the boat so fast that soon the swimmer had to
duck again.

“He’s getting weaker all the time, boys,”
remarked the agent, in a satisfied tone. “We
have only to keep this system of tactics up a
little longer, and Glenwood will be only too
glad to come in out of the wet, or drown.”

“Oh! I hope that doesn’t happen,” said
George.

“Little fear,” replied the other. “Like
most of us, Glenwood clings on to life, and always
has hopes of escaping. Do you see him
yet, either of you?”

“Not on this side,” replied Jack.

“And I don’t glimpse him here,” George
went on.

“But he’s been under almost a full minute
now, and that’s a long time for one as exhausted as
he must be,” the agent remarked,
seriously.

“Oh! I hope he hasn’t acted like I’ve known
wounded ducks to do,” said George, “go to the
bottom, and hold on to the eel grass until they
drown. That would be terrible.”

“And if he’d only held out a few minutes
more he might have had the chance he was
looking for, sir,” said Jack; “for there’s another
bunch of clouds making up toward the
moon.”

“Just so, Jack,” remarked the revenue
man, glancing aloft; “and I wager Glenwood
knew that fact, too.”

“But where can he be, sir? It would be impossible
for any one to stay under so long.
I’m something of a swimmer myself, and I
know I couldn’t,” George went on, anxiously.

“Sure he didn’t bob up quietly, take a
breath or two, and sink out of sight again?”
asked the other.

Both boys declared they were positive that
such had not been the case. The revenue man
remained there for another minute, as though
pondering. Then Jack saw him look up and
smile. He did not call out, but made a mysterious
motion with his hand that seemed to call
for silence.

Then Jack saw him creeping slowly and cautiously toward
the stern of the boat. George
stared with wide open eyes, as though the
startling thought had come to him that their
passenger had suddenly gone crazy. But if
so, there was a method in his madness, and
Jack had guessed it.

The stern of the *Wireless* was not an over-hang,
but the customary square one of a speed
boat. Still, any one in the water could hang
on to the rudder, keeping clear of the propeller;
and while the boat was stationary, be
concealed from the view of those aboard, unless
indeed, some inquisitive person thrust his
head far out over the edge.

Undoubtedly the cunning Glenwood had
conceived this to be a good plan, to rest, and
wait for the cloud to cover the face of the
moon, when he could dip again, and pass away
under the water beyond reach of their limited
vision.

Jack almost ceased to breathe, so intensely
interested was he in watching the advance of
the revenue man. It was a case of diamond
cut diamond, apparently, and victory would
go to the keener mind.

Now the agent was crawling over the stern,
and evidently getting in readiness to suddenly
swoop his arm down, with fingers extended, to
clutch anything he might come in contact with
there.

He made the movement with a celerity that
reminded Jack of the swoop of a hawk on a
pigeon. And apparently he must have gauged
his action nicely; for immediately there arose
a yell, and a threshing of the water followed;
while the agent held on desperately, calling to
the others for assistance.

Two hands were seen to clutch the brass
rail; and then a head came into view.

“No need to yank my hair out; I’m coming
aboard all right, Carson!” gasped the exhausted
swimmer; but the government agent
evidently looked upon him as a slippery customer,
for he declined to release his clutch
until the man had been pulled wholly into the
boat, and stretched on his back in the bottom.

Jack felt a queer chill when he heard something
“click,” and realized that for the first
time in all his life he saw a prisoner hand-cuffed.
But Glenwood did not appear to be
very much cast down. He had faced this situation
a long time, and evidently discounted all
its terrors. He even laughed as soon as he got
his breath.

“It was some fun while it lasted, Carson,”
he said.

“And you came near playing it on me for
good,” replied the other, laughing in his turn.
“I only fell to your smart trick by accident.
Seemed to me I felt something bump against
the side of the boat, when none of us chanced
to be moving. And then I figured what I would
do myself in a similar case. That was how I
came to hit on your game, Glenwood.”

“How about my friends; did they get
away?” asked the other.

“George,” the agent went on, “turn around,
and we’ll head back; if you’re in doubt I can
tell you just where we’ll find the other boat,
first of all, and then the island where your
comrades are waiting.”

Then he turned to his prisoner, saying:

“Neither of them took the dare you set,
Glenwood; and we got the upper hand of both
in short order. Besides, there are three
chaps with their legs tied up, on the island.”

“A clean sweep, you’ve made of it, then,”
remarked the smuggler, disconsolately;
“bagged the whole lot, and the stuff in the
bargain. Well, I knew how it would be when
I heard they were sending you up here, Carson.
Sooner or later I guessed we’d be up
against it, and meet with our finish. But it
came quicker than I expected.”

He said nothing more, nor did the government
agent seem disposed to enter into further conversation
just then. Keeping at the
elbow of the pilot, he watched him head the
boat along toward where George thought the
*Flash* would be found. And that his judgment
was good they presently saw, when in
the moonlight the other motor boat was discovered
quite motionless on the river.

George gave a signal, which was immediately
answered. When they drew alongside
it was to find that both Clarence and Bully
Joe were awaiting their coming with more or
less eagerness.

“Thank goodness!” said the owner of the
*Flash*; “now we’ll get rid of these ugly fellows.
They just pounced down on us several
days ago, and we’ve had to do what they
wanted ever since. I hope, sir, you won’t
bother taking us along with you, because we’ve
had nothing to do with their games. We were
prisoners, that’s right. I was threatened
with all sorts of terrible things if I refused
to run the boat as that man wanted.”

“Oh! I understand that, young fellow,”
said Mr. Carson, pleasantly. “All I want
you to do is to accompany us back to the island,
carrying those you have aboard. I’ll
relieve you of them there, and you can go
about your business. I have no call out for
you. But next time I advise you to be a little
more careful whose company you accept. It
got you into trouble once, and may again.”

“I declare I have no idea where our blooming
old haunted island lies,” admitted George,
frankly; “and I’ll have to ask you to stand
by sir, to tell me how to steer.”

“That’s easily done, George;” laughed the
other. “And you’ve been a big help to me,
something I’ll not soon forget either. Clarence,
keep as close by us as is safe; and we’ll
have no more racing as we return, remember.”

Clarence had something on his mind, nor
could he keep from saying what it was.

“Think you climbed up on me hand over
fist, don’t you, George,” he remarked, as the
two speed boats got under way once more.
“Well, you’ve got another think coming, that’s
what. He ordered me to hit up my hottest
pace, and I told him I was doing it; but all
the same I kept a bit in reserve. The *Flash*
can do better; and some fine day you’ll all get
your eyes opened, perhaps. I played my little
game to get rid of unwelcome passengers,
leaving the question about which was the
faster boat to be settled some other time. See?”

“That’s a likely story,” sneered George,
who would not think of letting any one dim
the glory that the dashing *Wireless* had so
gallantly won; and least of all Clarence Macklin.
“Tell that to the marines, will you? But
if the chance ever comes I’ll try it all over
with you for fair. Meanwhile don’t bother
yourself boasting how you’re going to cut figure
eight’s around me, with that pirate boat
of yours. She looks dangerous; but in a race
something besides looks counts. I’ve got it
right here. That’ll be enough for you, Clarence,”
and George declined to exchange any
further words with the skipper of the defeated
motor boat.

CHAPTER XXII—BUSTER’S HOUR OF TRIUMPH
=====================================

It proved that Mr. Carson knew his St. Lawrence
in the neighborhood of the Thousand
Islands by heart, so that even in the misty
moonlight he was able to guide the two speed
boats back to the haunted island.

Their arrival was the signal for an outburst
of cheers from those of the motor boat boys
who had been left behind.

Great was the excitement that took possession
of the four when they discovered that it
was Clarence and Bully Joe who were now in
charge of the mysterious dark speed boat;
and after finding out that three smugglers lay
in the bottom, with their ankles tied, and steel
bracelets on their wrists, Nick and Josh were
so overwhelmed with amazement that they
could hardly speak for a brief time. And as
the others realized, when the tall lad lost his
voice it must be something wonderful indeed
that had happened.

Mr. Carson meant to lose no time. He sent
his Indian assistant across the island to take
the little canvas collapsible canoe, and cross
over to a neighboring piece of land, where
their noisy motor boat had been concealed
earlier in the evening.

Of course the boys now understood that it
had been this river craft whose loud, rattling
pulsations they had caught at the time George
first mentioned hearing the sounds.

When, a little later, the pilot returned,
bringing the snub-nosed boat with him, the
three prisoners were transferred without much
trouble. After that the revenue man and his
helper went ashore to complete the job. One
by one they brought off the trio of prisoners
who had been left there helpless.

Finally they carried aboard the large packs
that Jack had seen hidden in the cavity under
the old straw in the cabin’s earthen floor.

“I think that finishes the job,” remarked
the energetic agent, as he wiped his wet forehead.
“And I must admit that, taken as a
whole, it’s about the most satisfactory piece
of business I’ve handled for a long time.”

“Did you get them all, sir?” Josh asked,
filled with admiration for the man who could
engineer a big scheme like this and bring it
to a successful close.

“The entire working force is now in custody,
I believe,” replied Mr. Carson. “To be
sure there are probably some persons connected
with the band whom we will never lay
hands on; such as those who supplied the
funds, and shipped the goods across the border.
But it may be possible to catch some of
the guilty receivers over on our side of the
river. When rogues find themselves fast in
the toils, they frequently offer to confess all
they know in order to curry favor with the authorities.
And secretly, between us, I imagine
Glenwood may yet be induced to turn state’s
evidence.”

“Are you going to leave us now, sir?” asked
Jack, seeing that the other was evidently preparing
to cross over to his own well laden motor
boat.

“Yes,” came the reply. “The sooner I get
this cargo behind the bars, the better. But I
want to shake hands with each one of you, and
thank you again most heartily for the assistance
you have given me in this matter. I don’t
mean to let it drop there; and you may expect
to hear from me again, since Jack Stormways
has given me his address. Good night boys,
and may the balance of your vacation be as
peaceful as the beginning has been stormy.”

“Oh! well, we’ve sure enjoyed it, Mr. Carson,”
said George, “and it was worth a heap
to me to have that chance to try conclusions
with the *Flash*.”

“I’ve no doubt of it, George,” laughed the
agent, as he clambered over the side of his
stubby little launch. “And since I miss that
same evil looking boat, I surmise that our
friend Clarence did not care to stay here in
your company any longer than he could help.”

“He scooted off as soon as you had gone
ashore for the prisoners, sir,” observed Nick,
who wanted to have a last word with the man
he admired so much.

And in another minute the Indian pilot had
set his chatterbox of an engine to beating a
lively tattoo, upon which the stub-nosed launch
began to draw away. As long as it remained in
sight in the moonlight the boys cheered, and
called goodbyes, so that if there chanced to be
any more ghosts lingering about that haunted
island they must have taken this for a clear
defiance of their power, and concluded to remain
in hiding during the balance of the stay
of the motor boat boys.

“Think we can pick up a few winks of sleep,
fellows?” asked George, when the clatter of
the loud-voiced engine had been mellowed by
distance.

“We ought to try, anyhow,” said Jack,
“Seems to me we’ve had our rest pretty badly
broken up lately. For one I’m going to forget
it all for a while.”

But the chances were that none of them got
any satisfactory sleep during the balance of
that eventful night.

On the following morning they prepared to
vacate the cove that had been their anchorage
for so long. All of them first went ashore; for
Nick and Herb were very anxious to see the
cabin, and the hole in the floor were the smugglers
kept their goods concealed after secretly
bringing the stuff over from the Canada mainland,
waiting until a good chance opened to
scatter it through the state, free of duty.

“Well,” declared Nick, as they prepared to
get underway later in the morning; “this has
been a great experience all around, sure
enough. And it ended fine—that is for us boys,
though I guess poor old Glenwood and his fellow
conspirators don’t feel so very gay over
it.”

“And don’t forget our friends, Clarence and
Bully Joe, while about it,” spoke up George.
“Just stop and think what Macklin went
through—held a prisoner by those reckless
men, and threatened with all sorts of trouble
if he so much as squeaked on ’em. Then
forced to do whatever they wanted. And last,
but far from least, beaten in a fair race by
this dandy little meteor boat that he once
sneered at. That’s glory enough for me, I’m
telling you, shipmates.”

“I guess we all enjoyed it,” remarked Josh.

“Yes, so far as I’m concerned I’d be quite
contented and happy right now, if I only knew
one thing,” remarked Nick, looking doleful
again.

“Here, don’t you go to starting up your
tune about that break,” said George, “we all
agreed long ago that if you *did* leak to Clarence,
you never would have done it on purpose.
So forget it.”

“But I tell you I can’t,” flashed back the
fat boy. “I feel sore about it; and I want to
find out the truth so that every one of you’ll
get down on your marrow-bones and ask my
pardon. And something tells me the time ain’t
so far away when that very thing is going to
happen.”

“Then speed the hour,” grinned Herb;
“after you’ve seen us in a row asking forgiveness,
perhaps we’ll have peace, and you’ll forget
the incident.”

“Don’t count too heavily on that,” George
said. “You don’t know Buster as well as I
do. Just as like as not he’ll turn out to be made
up the same way as that thirsty young woman
in the sleeping car, you know.”

“But perhaps we don’t know, so suppose
you tell us,” Nick himself burst out with curiosity
consuming him.

“Oh! I thought it was a chestnut; but if you
will have it, listen. A traveling man, trying to
go to sleep, heard some woman keep on saying
out loud in the berth next to him ‘Oh! I
am so thirsty! Oh! I am so thirsty!’ When he
couldn’t stand for it any longer he got up, went
and fetched a glass of water, and begged her
to accept it. Then he went back to his berth,
thinking he would have peace. But soon he
heard the same woman saying over and over
again: ‘Oh! I was so thirsty! I was so thirsty!’
So look out Buster don’t play that game on
you, Herb.”

There was a shout at this, in which Nick
joined; for being a good-natured chap in the
main, he could take a joke that was leveled at
himself.

About nine o’clock the signal was given, and
the three motor boats forming the cruising
fleet pulled out of the friendly cove. Those on
board looked back with more or less rejoicing
and regret at the scene of their recent adventures.
They would not soon forget all that
had happened since first they dropped in there
for a night’s stay. And Jack’s entries in the
official log would doubtless prove very entertaining
reading for the folks at home.

Upon examining the bow of his speed boat
George had found where that bullet had struck,
that was fired last of all by the desperate smuggler,
in hopes of frightening the boy at the
wheel of the pursuing craft.

It had made quite a hole, though fortunately
doing no real damage. Later on he could
of course, have the aperture plugged; but for
the present it would stand as a mute witness to
the truth of the adventurous story the boys
had to tell. If any one of their mates at home
ventured to scoff at the idea of their having
been actually under a hot fire, he stood ready
to pry that bit of lead out of its lodgings, and
thus confound the skeptic.

They were now on the second week of their
vacation, and of course had lots of territory
to cover still, before they could say they had
exhausted the pleasures of this wonderful
cruising ground. But already the motor boat
boys were looking forward to another daring
venture, and all of them had written home to
gain the consent of those who must be consulted
ere determining positively on their
plans.

This included a long trip through lakes Ontario
and Erie, up past Detroit into Lake Huron,
along the shore of this great body of water
until the wonderful Soo was reached at the
head of the St. Mary’s river; and then possibly
into Superior; winding up with a run
down Lake Michigan to Milwaukee, where the
boats could be sent home the same way they
had left, via railroad.

Of course, being real boys, once a great undertaking
like this had formed itself in their
minds they could talk of little else. And Jack
knew very well that if any determined opposition
developed at home, that would put a
damper on the grand scheme, there would be
a feeling of gloom settle down over the whole
expedition.

After leaving the haunted island the first object
of the boys was to get back to Clayton,
and not only replenish their depleted supplies,
but gather up any mail that would, according
to orders, be held for them at the post office
there.

Josh went ashore to get the mail, while Jack
looked after the supplies. Nick seemed unusually
uneasy all the time they were gone;
and upon their showing up he demanded
shrilly that the letters be distributed without
delay.

“Only one for you, Pudding,” jeered the
letter carrier, as he held it up; “and seems to
me I smell violet perfume on that. Must be a
dainty billet doux from Rosie Sinclair; but
here, take it and go off by yourself. It would
make us all die of envy to see you reading
such sweet stuff, when we are forgotten by our
best girls.”

Nick eagerly snatched the missive from his
hand, and with trembling fingers tore it open.
A minute later the others were astonished to
hear him give a loud whoop.

“What did I tell you, fellows?” he exclaimed,
trying to dance around like a wild
Indian, and waving the open letter. “Mebbe
I ain’t something of a detective myself? Come
around here, every one of you now, and get
ready to do that marrow-bone act you promised.”

“What’s all this mean? Has he gone out of
his mind?” asked George.

“Tell us, Buster,” said Jack, who could suspect
something of the nature of the communication
Nick had received.

“His dad has said he can take the northern
cruise, that’s what!” remarked Josh, a bit
enviously.

“Oh! you’re away off there,” cried the fat
boy, derisively. “Why, you couldn’t guess
the truth in a month of Sundays, Josh. It
takes real brains to figure out a solution to a
mystery like that. And I did it, all by my little
self.”

“Great governor!” ejaculated George,
“listen to him, would you, fellows? Honest
now, if it don’t sound as if he’d found out
where that leak lay. Here, Buster, it isn’t
fair to keep us on the ragged edge so long.
Open up now, and explain. Did anybody talk
in their sleep? Who told Clarence our plans?”

“You did, George; yes, and so did Jack and
Herb and Josh—I guess Jimmie and myself
had a hand in it too!” laughed the fat boy, to
their great mystification!

CHAPTER XXIII—HAPPY DAYS—CONCLUSION
===================================

“Poor old Buster! He’s sure getting weak
in the upper story,” said George.

“It’s going to be a strait-jacket for him before
long!” sighed Josh.

But Jack spoke not a word; for he could
somehow see further than the rest of the boys,
and understood that Nick held a strong hand.

“Oh! is that the way you’re thinking?”
said the fat boy, still trembling with the violence
of his excitement. “Just wait till I read
this little letter, and then if you’re honest
you’ll do the right thing by poor old Buster.”

“He’s going to read Rosie’s little note to us,
fellows!” cried Josh, pretending to be horror-stricken
at such a base betrayal of confidence.

“Who said it was from Rosie, or any girl
at all?” demanded Nick, indignantly. “Look
at the name signed at the bottom, and you can
read Aleck. Yes, it’s from my old friend, Aleck
Sands. I wrote him a week ago, when that
bright thought first dazzled me. And you remember,
when Josh here gave me that start by
talking through that old rusted tin water pipe?
Well, that made me believe harder than before
that I’d got on the track.”

“Read the letter, plague take you, Nick!”
roared impatient George; “don’t you see
you’re giving some of us heart disease right
now, with your everlasting slow way of getting
at things.”

So Nick, assuming a posture that, according
to his mind signified the attitude of a victor
awaiting the laurel wreath, began in his slow
way.

    “Dear Buster:

    “As soon as I got your interesting letter I
    hit it up for the school house. Found old
    Crusty Bill Edwards hard at work, and had
    to bribe him to let me get in. Went up to the
    little room where we hold our club meetings.
    Yes, you were right, Buster; the register from
    the furnace in that room does back into the
    cloak room. Found both of ’em shut, but got
    old Bill to stand in the club room while I
    opened the registers, and then listened in the
    cloak closet while he talked to himself. And
    Buster, why, say, I could near hear the old
    man *think*, every sound came through that hole
    so plain. If you fellows talked about your
    plans that day you were there, and Clarence
    was hiding in the cloak room, make up your
    mind, old chap, he heard every word you said;
    In a hurry so I’ll ring off.

    .. class:: right

       “Yours, Aleck.”

As Nick read the last word he paused and
looked expectant. His motor-mates stared at
one another as though for the moment rendered
incapable of speech. The cleverness of
the fat boy’s deduction was stunning; had it
sprung from Jack, now, they might not have
considered it so very wonderful; but to think
that Buster, always so slow to grasp anything,
could have done it, fairly staggered them.

Jack was the first to recover. Laughingly
he dropped on one knee beside Nick, and seizing
the fat hand of the victor he pretended to
kiss it with due humility.

The others entered into the spirit of the occasion;
and right there on the dock, regardless
of the stares of passersby, the five clung around
the grinning Buster, begging him to forgive
their thick-headedness, and restore them to
favor.

Nick of course, enjoyed the game most
heartily, and laughed himself into a fit of
choking, as he raised his chums, one by one,
and tapped them on the head in token of his
pardon.

“However did you come to think of it?”
asked George, a little later, as they were once
more aboard their boats, and ready to start
forth in search of new adventures.

“I dreamed about it, and that’s the truth,”
declared Nick, solemnly; nor could they ever
get him to change his assertion. “Woke me
right up in the middle of the night too.
Thought I saw Clarence peekin’ through a
hole, and laughing to beat the band; and then
I saw the silly crowd in the next room. That
gave me an idea, and started me to thinking. I
believed I remembered that register, and had
an idea there was another one just back of it
opening into that cloak room. Now you don’t
blame me for wanting to get that letter, do
you?”

“I should say not,” declared George frankly.
“Why you’ve just covered yourself with glory,
Buster. After this, when anything mysterious
happens, we’ll turn to you to guess the answer.
You ought to be a lawyer, sure.”

“Or a revenue man,” suggested Herb.

“Guess Buster’d like to be the head steward
on a big Atlantic liner best of all,” was the
wicked remark of the envious Josh.

But the fat boy was in a jolly frame of mind,
and could not be provoked by any sort of fling
just then. He turned to his tormentor, and
smiling sweetly, remarked:

“Josh knows my weak point; but then you
fellows understand that it’s only green envy
that makes him say such things. Right now
he’d give almost anything if only he had my
honest appetite. I never make faces at my
meals. Why, I’m ready for one right at this
present minute, fellows.”

“Well,” said Jack, “let’s get off a few miles
from Clayton before we think to start the
stoves going. Perhaps we’ll find a nice quiet
place where we can go ashore, and do the cooking
stunt. This place is too thickly populated
to make a show of ourselves to the gaping
natives.”

“Now, I know you mean me when you say
that, Jack,” observed Nick, reproachfully.
“But while I confess that I’ve got a bully good
appetite, I hope I don’t disgrace the bunch
when I join in the eating game. Herb, are we
ready to start? While we are moving along I’ll
try and hatch up a new dish out of my new
book here, that will make your mouths water.”

“If Herb was wise he’d have drowned that
cook book long before this,” muttered Josh,
as George gave his engine a fling and immediately
started away in the lead.

The three motor boats kept close company.
George had apparently experienced all the
running on ahead he wished, during that previous
memorable cruise down the Mississippi;
and was content after rushing half a mile in
the lead to slow down and let the others catch
up with him.

He was in great spirits this morning. That
wonderful little race in the moonlight on the
preceding night, with its successful termination,
had made him fall in love with his cranky
speed boat more than ever. He could hardly
talk intelligently about anything else; and
finally the others declared that he was even a
worse sinner in that respect than Nick had
ever been.

The day was sunshiny, and everything
around them seemed joyous, so it was not to
be thought strange that the motor boat boys
were every little while bursting out in snatches
of song, or exchanging joking remarks as the
boats chanced to close up.

“Wonder if we’ll ever hear from the gentleman
again?” Herb was saying, as they later
on headed for a bit of lonely shore, where it
seemed inviting to campers.

“If you mean Mr. Carson,” Jack replied,
“I’m sure we will, for he gave his promise;
and a man like him never goes back on his
word. I’ve an idea he means to send us some
little thing to put in our clubroom, to remember
the adventure by.”

“As if we’d be likely to ever forget it?”
laughed George, patting his throbbing motor
affectionately.

“I’ve thought up that new mess, fellows!”
called out Nick, just then.

Everybody groaned in unison.

“You know we’ve always had Boston baked
beans and coffee for lunch whenever we got a
chance to go ashore at noon. All right. I’m
for progress. I like to vary our meals some.
Let’s turn things upside down, and right
around. If you agree, then today let the bill
of fare be coffee and Boston baked beans.”

“Bully for Buster! He’s the one bright
mind in the bunch!” laughed George.

“We can have a new dish every day at that
rate, fellows!” sang out Herb.

And so, joking and laughing in this way,
they ran close in, found a deep place to anchor
the three motor boats, and began to get ashore
with such things as they needed for the meal.

The future looked very bright to those six
jolly fellows just then, with never a cloud in
sight. Presently they hoped to be hearing the
returns from home, when they would know
whether their plan for an extended cruise was
looked upon favorably by the powers that controlled
their destinies.

But no matter what the outcome of that
proposition might be, they did not mean to
worry over anything. The great St. Lawrence
was an ideal cruising place, and doubtless if
they were forced to stay there during the balance
of the summer they could find plenty of
amusement in the way of fishing, racing, and
exploring.

Only Josh solemnly expressed the hope that
in their “nosing around,” as he called it, they
might not happen upon another haunted
island. Once spelled enough for him; and there
was no telling but that on another occasion the
ghost might prove to be more real than the one
manufactured by Glenwood and his fellow
smugglers, to frighten the owners of the three
motor boats away from their pet cove.

There was always the chance that sooner
or later they would again run across Clarence
Macklin and his crony, Bully Joe Brinker.
George would be only too glad of another opportunity
to test his beloved *Wireless* against
the very best that the *Flash* could put forth.

“Make up your mind, George,” said Jack,
when his chum was mentioning this thing one
day. “You never would get that tricky Clarence
to acknowledge your boat to be better
than his. If you beat him six times he’d have
six good excuses ready, and each one different
from all the rest. Whoever caught him with
the goods on, and made him confess? A fellow
he didn’t know stopped him and stuck the
things in his pocket. He was right then on the
way to hand them over to the police. Don’t you
remember when he said that? Well, you may
have your race, and win out handsomely, but
don’t expect Clarence to hand you an honest
admission that his boat ran second.”

“I don’t,” grinned George; “but I’d like to
race him all the same; and I only hope the
chance comes along, sooner or later.”

Perhaps it would, for stranger things were
likely to happen to the motor boat boys than
that they would run across Clarence again during
their outing days.

“I saw him in Clayton when ashore,” remarked
Jack. “He was talking with a man
who, from his soiled clothes, I’d take to be an
engineer, or something like that.”

“Sure,” laughed George, evidently pleased.
“Knowing that in her present condition the
*Flash* is no match for my bully boat, he’s going
to see if she can’t be improved somehow, so
as to squeeze just a little more speed out of her.
Huh! perhaps I might do something of that
kind myself. But just wait and see, fellows.
If there is another race between us it’s going
to be for keeps.”

When some time later their mail began to
arrive from home it might be judged from the
excitement and congratulations to be heard
that favorable replies were coming in from
headquarters. And that this was really the
fact, the reader who has been interested in the
fortunes of Jack and his chums thus far, will
take for granted, when he learns that the title
of the next volume in this series, already published,
and ready for his enjoyment, is: “The
Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes; or,
Young Pilots to the Rescue.”

.. class:: center

   | THE END.

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\*\*\* END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTOR BOAT BOYS ON THE ST. LAWRENCE \*\*\*

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