CHAPTER XXI
ON A BLIND TRAIL OF THE SEA
"Those guns were put aboard six months ago, when I was planning to runthe 'Panther' down to Guatemala on a jaguar-hunting trip," explained Mr.Baldwin. "Afterwards, when the trip was abandoned, the guns were takenashore. I'll admit I didn't know the arms were now on board."
"We may catch up with those rascals again, sir," suggested Ted Dyer,hopefully.
"I wish I had your enthusiasm, and your belief in the future, youngman," remarked Mr. Baldwin, with a shake of his head.
"Anyway, since the weapons have been found," interjected Halstead, "theymay as well be taken out of their cases and cleaned, and the ammunitionsorted over. We should have such things where we can get at them in amoment, at need."
"Right enough," nodded the owner.
"I'll go down and have a look at the things," proposed the youngskipper. "Lead the way, Dyer."
Ted went below, jubilantly enough, pointing out the cases, which he haddragged out from under other supplies. Then Dyer went to the engine roomfor hammer, cold chisel and screwdriver, after which the cases wereopened.
"Ten splendid repeating rifles, the same number of dandy shot-guns, andammunition enough to keep these guns firing for a week," mutteredHalstead when half an hour's work had resulted in displaying all thecontents of the cases. "Oh, if we had only had these the other night, orat any time when we were out of the great fog and in sight of the'Victor'!"
Regrets were, however, utterly useless.
All of the weapons were taken on deck. Some were stacked in the wheelhouse, others in Tom's cabin and some in the owner's suite. Boxes ofcartridges and shells were also placed with the guns.
"I shall hate these things every time I see them," muttered JosephBaldwin. "I should have remembered, and have had a search made. But it'sno use fussing now."
"Oh, if we only could meet up with those fellows, now!" sighed Tom.
"Humph! If hens would only lay eggs of solid gold," snorted Mr.Baldwin, "there'd be no sense in a bank cashier running away with thestuffing of the bank's vault! Captain Halstead, we won't pick that steamyacht up again in this fog."
"Then, sir, we may do it when the fog lifts," predicted Halstead,hopefully.
Baldwin shook his head.
"All we can do, young man, is to keep on in a general course toward SanFrancisco, as we're doing. This fog will probably hang to us all the wayto our anchorage off Market Street. If the fog should lift before that,there isn't one chance in a thousand that we'll find the 'Victor' insight."
"I'm on this cruise, sir," rejoined the young captain, "with the notionthat the cruise can't end until we've run alongside the 'Victor'somewhere. It may be that we'll sight some other vessel that has seenthe steam yacht. In that way we may get the news that will send ushustling down the coast to Mexico, or across the ocean to Japan."
Joseph Baldwin grinned wistfully.
"Well, one thing, Captain; we have enough gasoline to go 'most anywhere.My friends thought I was almost crazy to have such big tanks put aboardto hold gasoline. But I replied that, when we didn't need the extraoil, it would serve as ballast. If we have to burn that oil we can fillthe tanks with salt water and still keep ballasted."
"In any clear weather we can use the sails a good deal, and save oil atthat, sir," suggested the young skipper.
However, they continued on through the fog the rest of that afternoon,and through the night, without discovering a sign of any other craft.The loneliness of that great ocean about them began to get somewhat onthe nerves of some of the passengers. Gaston Giddings, sufferinginfernal tortures for want of the drug to which he had become such apitiful slave, kept to the cabin.
Through the long night the "Panther" kept plodding on her way, rolling agood deal in the sea. Tom spent much of his time on the bridge with thewatch officer. So morning came around again, and it was Third MateCostigan's deck watch.
Tom, who had been below in his cabin for the last three hours, came ondeck again at about nine in the morning. Somehow, he could not sleep.The sense of failure preyed upon his nerves.
For some minutes Captain Tom stood at the bridge rail, one hand at hisear. He was trying to catch even the faintest sound of another foghornthan the "Panther's."
At last he started.
"Did you hear that, Mr. Costigan?" he demanded.
"I heard nothing, sir."
"Then keep perfectly quiet, and listen hard."
Within two minutes both officers were sure they heard a fog-horn.
"But it's the fog-horn of a sailing vessel," muttered Tom,disappointedly.
"Coming this way, too, sir," replied Mr. Costigan.
"The people on the 'Victor' wouldn't hesitate to use a sailing vessel'ssignals in order to fool us," muttered Halstead.
"Shall I pass well to starboard of the sailing craft, sir?" asked thethird officer.
"No; get in her path. When we're near enough, signal that we want tospeak the other vessel," Halstead answered.
Within seven or eight minutes the "Panther" was signaling the othercraft by sound for the desired marine interview. The "all right" signalcame back. Then the two vessels were cautiously manoeuvred to meet eachother without collision.
At last a big bowsprit loomed up out of the white gloom, close at hand.
"Put your helm hard-a-starboard!" roared Mr. Costigan through the wheelhouse speaking-tube. Then, after some further manoeuvring, during whichthe "Panther's" propellers reversed, the two craft lay hazily in sightof each other.
The stranger proved to be a long, low, white schooner yacht hailing fromSan Diego as the home port, but now bound for Hawaii.
"Do you know the steam yacht 'Victor' when you see her?" Tom shoutedover the "Panther's" rail.
"Yes," came back the testy answer. "And sometimes we see too much ofher. We did this morning."
"You did?" Halstead demanded, excitedly. "Where?"
"Back on our course. She came along through the fog like a thief,without signaling. If my first mate hadn't been in the bow at themoment, and able to pass the order back like lightning, that infernalsteam yacht would have sunk us."
"How far away do you think the 'Victor' is now?" Tom demanded.
"At a good guess, say twelve miles ahead of you, on a pretty straightcourse for the Golden Gate."
"Thank you, Captain!"
"You're welcome."
As the schooner yacht's sails filled, and she bore away on her course,a dozen people on the "Panther's" deck let up a wild cheer.
"Fog or no fog, we'll catch up with the 'Victor' if we have luck,"declared Captain Tom Halstead. Then his face took on a troubled look.
"I forgot," he muttered. "The captain of the 'Victor' will hear our foghorn, and--oh, confound a fog-horn on a chase like this!"
"Perhaps this is where a lawyer can help you out," smiled Mr. Jephson."You're now a dozen miles behind the 'Victor.' Well, Captain, if youtone down your fog-horn so that it can't be heard for more than half orthree quarters of a mile, it will still make noise enough to warn anyinnocent craft out of your path. Can't you tone down the horn?"
"Yes," answered Tom, rather dubiously, "if it will be strictlystraightforward and legal."
"As a representative of the United States courts, I'll take all theresponsibility," Mr. Jephson pledged himself. "I know," he added, "thatI haven't, really, a legal right to authorize you to go forward withoutsignals. That right belongs to the Navy, and to revenue cuttercommanders. But I'll take the responsibility upon myself, CaptainHalstead. All innocent vessels proceed under regular signals, anyway,and that does away with the risk of collision."
The young motor boat captain needed no further urging. He called Joe ondeck. Together the two chums worked over the fog-horn until the hail itsent forth would not carry more than a half mile.
In the meantime, Third Officer Costigan, on the bridge, had been makinguse of his arithmetic. Figuring that the "Victor" was twelve miles aheadof the "Panther" and still following the same cour
se at the same speed,the third mate had to calculate the time that would elapse before themotor yacht would be just two miles astern of its quarry.
At the same time Ab Perkins was briefly busy, at least. It fell to hisshare to see that the power tender was all in trim for lowering over theside. Provisions and water, a compass and a fog-horn had to be added tothe usual equipment of the boat. Firearms were stocked aboard, as well,and a greater supply of lines than the tender usually carried.
Meanwhile, of course, the "Panther" was traveling at increased speed,this speed being carefully regulated to fit in with the problems thatThird Officer Costigan was so carefully solving.
For the next two hours Captain Tom Halstead strolled nervously about,Mr. Jephson, Mr. Baldwin, Mr. Ross and a few others were observed to besimilarly afflicted with restlessness.
Just before noon Tom Halstead climbed the stairs to the bridge,consulting Mr. Costigan's figures carefully.
"Slow down the speed," Halstead ordered, after a few moments oflistening that brought to them no sound showing another vessel to benear. "Mr. Perkins, stand by and lower the tender."
As the "Panther" slowed up there was a rush to the port rail, for thetender was to carry a goodly crew. When the little power boat lay in thewater alongside, Captain Tom Halstead was the first to go over the side.He was followed by Jed Prentiss, who was to act as engineer officer ofthis expedition. Then came Mr. Jephson and his two deputy marshals. Nextfollowed Joe Dawson, who did _not_ go in the capacity of engineer.Messrs. Baldwin and Ross next followed, then two of the "Panther's"seamen, and, last of all, Ted Dyer. Quartermaster Bickson had been inthe power boat when it was lowered, thus making twelve altogether in theparty.
"Cast off," called Tom, sharply, while Joe, already at the steeringseat, threw the wheel over to port. "Mr. Perkins, you're in command ofthe yacht."
"Any signals to arrange with us, Captain?" called the young first mate.
"No! I don't believe you'll see us again in a hurry," Tom replied, asthe power launch darted away, "unless we come back on board the'Victor!'"
From the yacht's rail came a subdued cheer. Halstead waved his hand tohis first mate.
A few bucketfuls of water slopped over into the tender. The sea wasrunning high for such a small craft. Those in the launch, however,thought of nothing but the goal ahead.
The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog Page 21