CHAPTER XV
THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
"Still the sound of machinery," muttered Dick Davis, pacing the bridgejust before dark. "I imagine the skipper of that other craft wishes hecould have put a mute on his engines."
"He has even taken to blowing his fog-horn again," replied youngHalstead. "It's just sheer luck that he hasn't been run down by somevessel coming from the opposite direction."
"I guess our fog-horn has protected him," suggested Dick. "We may havepassed some other craft whose fog-horns didn't carry sound as far asours. Hearing our fog-horn, such vessels might have given us such a wideberth that the 'Victor' naturally escaped collision."
It was about eight o'clock, when Tom and Joe were finishing the eveningmeal in the captain's cabin, that a sudden sharp blast came through thebridge speaking tube.
"Right here at the other end, Mr. Davis," Captain Tom answered.
"I think you'll be interested in coming to the bridge, sir. The fog islightening a bit, and I can see a couple of stars overhead."
"Whew! That's good news! Do you still hear the 'Victor's' machinery?"
"Yes; I've been keeping very close to her."
Halstead quickly told the news to Joe Dawson. Both reached for theirulsters, then ran out on deck. Tom's first discovery was that he couldhear, distinctly, the subdued clank-clank made by the invisible steamyacht.
Yes; the fog was surely lifting. Overhead, especially, things wereclearing.
"We seem to be running out at the edge of the fog-bank, Mr. Davis," wasthe young captain's greeting, as he climbed to the bridge, followed bythe young chief engineer.
For five minutes or more Tom Halstead stood there, watching the fog.
"I'm sure enough of the news, now, to go aft and tell Mr. Baldwin," hedeclared, finally.
Tom found all the cabin passengers at table in the deck dining saloon,aft of the owner's quarters. They were not more than two-thirds throughthe meal, but the table became instantly deserted.
Twenty minutes later the watchers at the port rail made out, briefly, apart of the hull of the "Victor." The two craft were but little morethan two hundred yards apart.
Ten minutes later both craft passed almost completely out of the fog. Acheer went up from the deck of the "Panther." There was no answer fromthe pursued craft.
Running up to the bridge, and snatching up a megaphone, Joseph Baldwinbawled lustily:
"We're still with you, you pirates! You can't shake us!"
Still no sound of human voice came from the steam yacht. The answer wasof another sort. Great clouds of smoke began to pour from the "Victor's"funnel.
"They're going to try a spurt," chuckled Halstead, gleefully. "Well,let 'em. We don't even have to get up more steam for a spurt. All wehave to do is to feed in the gasoline quicker."
Within five minutes the "Victor" was racing along at more than twentymiles an hour. On board the "Panther," however, Joe Dawson did not evenfeel it necessary to go below to look at the motors. Jed Prentiss wasdown there in the engine room, and Jed was a boy who knew what he wasdoing. Second Officer Davis gave the speed orders from the bridge; Jedcarried out the orders. The "Panther," now widening the interval to fourhundred yards in this clearer atmosphere, ran along parallel with thesteam yacht.
"They may fool us yet," chuckled Halstead, turning around to the owner."But they'll have to do it with something better than speed."
"If they get away from _you_, Captain Halstead," replied the owner, hisface beaming, "I promise, in advance, to forgive you. It won't be yourfault. Lord, how you've hung to them! What a report I shall have to sendDelavan on the officers he sent me!"
Then, suddenly, Halstead thought of the prisoner down in the brig.
"Pass the word for Second Steward Collins," he directed, and thatyacht's servant soon reported.
"You didn't forget to feed the prisoner, Collins?"
"Oh, no, sir," and the steward rattled off the names of the dishes thathad been supplied the man in the brig.
"He seems to have fed nearly as well as we did," laughed Skipper Tom."Well, that's right; just because we lock a fellow up is no reason whywe should starve him. The prisoner had a good appetite?"
"Excellent, sir."
"He's locked in tightly?"
"Yes, sir."
Ten minutes later Captain Halstead took the trouble to go below to thebrig.
It was somewhat stuffy down there, but that couldn't be helped.
From the center of the ceiling a single incandescent lamp supplied theillumination of the room.
As Tom Halstead peered in through the grating he saw Cragthorpe seatedon a stool in the far corner.
Tom did not speak. The fellow glared at him, then looked away.
"The door is locked tightly, all right," murmured Captain Halstead tohimself, after rattling the bars and examining the lock.
No sooner had he turned away, and stepped out of sight, than Cragthorperose like a caged tiger. A leer expressive of the utmost cruelty partedhis teeth. He shook his fist menacingly after the departing youngskipper. He was able to do that much, for Mr. Costigan, following theusual course in such cases, had removed the handcuffs after depositingthe prisoner in the brig.
"Perhaps you think I'm here, simply awaiting your pleasure, my youngsalt water cub!" snarled Cragthorpe to himself.
Tom Halstead, however, gave the fellow little further thought. He wastoo happy over the lifting of the fog. It is possible for two craft ofthe size of these to run all day within two hundred yards of each otherthrough a fog, judging each other's positions only by sounds. The slowspeed of fog-time makes this possible. Yet it requires splendidly expertseamanship on both craft. The ordeal is bound to be wearing on the deckand watch officers. Tom and his three mates felt utterly tired aftertheir experience, but the passing out of the belt of the fog had broughthuge relief to them.
Up to ten o'clock that evening the "Victor" maintained her fast speed.The air was now thoroughly clear in every direction. Tom could havekept the other craft in sight even had the steam yacht shown no lights.But the commander of the "Victor" had all his running lights going.
"You'll call us, if anything whatever happens that's worth our knowing,won't you, Captain?" asked Joseph Baldwin, joining the young sailingmaster, who stood close to the bridge steps on the port side.
"Yes, sir. Certainly."
"All of us chaps in the cabin are going to turn in soon," continued Mr.Baldwin, with a slight yawn. "We're fagged, both from the lack of sleepand the suspense. Now, however, our minds are easier. Yonder is the boatthat carries Frank Rollings and the millions he stole from the bank. Ourfuel will last as long as theirs will. We can follow as far as they cango."
"Wouldn't it be a jarring surprise if it turned out that we've beenfollowing a dummy, Mr. Baldwin?" Halstead asked. "What if we follow fordays and days, yet, and then learn that neither Rollings nor his plunderis on board?"
Joseph Baldwin started, then retorted:
"Yes; but it won't happen, Captain. In the first place, the detectivesof the Bankers' Association found out positively that Rollings had goneaboard, and that the yacht had then got under way at once. The captainof that boat was expecting Rollings--was prepared for him--and has thedefaulter on board at this moment."
"I hope so, sir, for I'm satisfied that we're yet going to lay alongsideof that craft and search her."
"Of course we are. Good night, Captain."
"Good night, sir. I'm going to turn in, myself, for a while."
Half an hour later the young skipper was sound asleep. So, for thatmatter, were all the officers and crew who were not on duty.
Sky and surrounding atmosphere continued clear through the rest of DickDavis's watch on the bridge. That young second mate was pacing back andforth contentedly. The two yachts, now making about a fourteen-milespeed, were close together, and Davis had little to watch save thegeneral handling of the boat.
Out of a hatchway forward a head was cautiously thrust up. Davis did nothappen
to see that head. There was no reason why he should be lookingfor it.
The owner of that head saw Davis turn and pace over to starboard.Swiftly, and silently, the man sprang out of the hatchway, afterobserving that the quartermaster's head was bent over the compass. Thesailor in the wheel house with the quartermaster was not looking inDavis's direction at the moment.
So the prowler gained the port side of the deck-house, and stole aftwithout hindrance. It was Cragthorpe, the late prisoner in the brig.Now, besides being free, he carried a five-gallon can of gasoline thathe had found below deck.
Away back to the after deck he ran, crouching low. There he halted,staring about him. An evil smile flickered over his lips. With littleconscience, he was also without fear for himself.
An instant later he began sprinkling gasoline about him. The task wasquickly accomplished. He drew out a box of blazer matches, striking oneof them and tossing it down where a pool of gasoline lay.
There was a flare, in a second, but Cragthorpe had vanished almost asquickly as the flare appeared.
Dick Davis caught a glimpse of the glow.
"Quartermaster, send your man aft to investigate a blaze there. Let himrun!"
The blaze, however, was spreading and mounting so fast that the alertyoung second officer did not have to pause to guess.
"Fire!" shouted the sailor, running forward. But Dick Davis had alreadysprung to the alarm bells.
The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog Page 15