The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog

by H. Irving Hancock

  CHAPTER XXIII

  ROLLINGS'S LAST RUSE

  Both approaching men were regarding the deck, talking in earnest tonesas they came astern.

  "If we should pass out of this fog," Rollings was saying, "and if the'Panther' should prove to be close to us----"

  Just at this point the speaker stopped. He panted, then staggered back,clutching at his uniformed companion.

  In almost the same instant both caught sight of lone Tom Halstead.

  Though not quite alone, either, for Tom had succeeded in unlimbering hisrifle, and both strangers now found themselves staring down into themuzzle.

  "Don't stir, please!" mocked Tom Halstead, coolly.

  "How in the world _did_ he get on board?" faltered Rollings, hoarsely,his face ashen with terror.

  The uniformed man with him saw the grappling hook resting over the sternrail, and did not need to ask.

  At this instant Tom Halstead felt himself being pushed from behind, andtook a step forward. Then Ted Dyer bounded onto deck beside him,bringing another rifle into play.

  "They're boarding us!" gasped Rollings, in the voice of a man who felthimself dying from fright.

  The uniformed man with him did not move; neither did he show any signsof fear, though he was facing the business ends of two rifles.

  Joe Dawson was on deck, now. Joe turned long enough to toss down a lightline. It came up again, carrying the hooks of a boarding-ladder. Joedropped this into place, then, with a quiet grin, turned to inspect thescene on deck.

  Suddenly the man in uniform turned and ran, defying possible shots.

  "Turn out the whole crew!" he bawled. "A posse is coming on board. Standby to fight!"

  "Shall I drop the fellow?" quivered Ted.

  "No," came Halstead's quick answer. Then, as Frank Rollings summoned thestrength to wheel about as if to bolt, Halstead shouted, warningly:

  "Rollings, if you try to move, you won't get three steps away!"

  At this instant one of the United States deputy marshals came up overthe rail.

  "Officer," called Tom, "there's the man you've cruised so far toarrest."

  Though he had a rifle strapped over his back, the marshal drew hisrevolver as he ran forward.

  "Frank Rollings, you're a United States prisoner. Put up your hands!"

  With a moan that was half a scream, Rollings, instead, sank to the deckin a huddled heap.

  Rollings Sank to the Deck in a Huddled Heap.]

  "A man with no more nerve than you have should not try to loot a bank,"growled the officer, as he snapped handcuffs onto the wrists of theseemingly palsied wretch.

  The other deputy was on board, by now, and other members of the boardingparty were coming up fast. Mr. Jephson was among the foremost of them.

  "Come forward to the bridge," he called, now taking charge. "We'll takecommand of this whole craft. Deputy, make it your whole business toprevent your prisoner from getting away. Hold on to him, but comeforward with us."

  The same uniformed, bearded man appeared suddenly around the pilot houseas the party swept forward along the port side of the yacht. Rollings,his knees doubling under him, had to be dragged.

  The uniformed man suddenly raised a rifle, shouting:

  "Stand by, men! We'll put a stop to this nonsense!"

  "Drop that gun, or we'll open fire on you!" shouted Mr. Jephson,sternly.

  The boarding party moved swiftly forward. Behind the captain stood amate and four or five seamen, all looking irresolute. Of a sudden themate wheeled, throwing a rifle over the rail at starboard. The seamenwith him instantly followed his example.

  Even the bearded captain had lowered the muzzle of his rifle. It iseasier to be brave on the side of the law than against it.

  "Put that captain in irons," Mr. Jephson ordered the marshal who had noprisoner to cumber him.

  Sullenly, the captain of the "Victor" submitted to being handcuffed.

  "All of the rest of the officers and crew muster up in the bow," calledMr. Jephson. "Captain Halstead, I call upon you to take command of thisyacht for the present. The quartermaster of this craft may remain in thewheel house if he'll take orders straight."

  "Aye, aye, sir," the quartermaster called, briefly, through one of thelowered windows of the pilot house.

  Tom Halstead, still carrying his rifle and holding it ready, ran up tothe bridge.

  Stepping over to the signaling apparatus, Halstead rang for speed enoughto furnish bare headway.

  "Quartermaster," the new commander of the "Victor" called down throughthe wheel house speaking-tube, "you'll keep to the same course you'vebeen following, and sound the fog whistle every thirty seconds."

  "Captain," called Mr. Baldwin, a few moments later, "can you put one ofyour party up there on the bridge? We have yet other duties to performhere."

  "Take the bridge, Mr. Prentiss," called Tom, for he understood instantlywhat other work was likely to be on hand, and he knew that Joe Dawsonwould want a hand in it.

  Aft of the captain's quarters there was a main deck house. Into thiscabin Rollings and the captain of the steam yacht were taken. Mr.Jephson was now talking to the two prisoners as solemnly as thoughholding actual court.

  "Do you think the 'Panther' will overtake us here, out on the high seas,Captain?" questioned Mr. Baldwin, just as they entered this cabin."That is, will he recognize the 'Victor's' fog-whistle?"

  "He'll make a good guess at it, I think," laughed Halstead. "I've justdirected Mr. Prentiss, in ten minutes more, to begin sounding wholebunches of blasts in quick succession. Ab will be clever enough to guessthat it is our crowd celebrating a capture."

  "Now, then, Rollings," declared Mr. Jephson, sternly, "it is time foryou to tell us where the money stolen from the Sheepmen's Bank is hiddenaboard this craft?"

  "You won't find five hundred dollars on board," replied the cashier,with a ghastly smile.

  "My man, it may save you some years on the sentence that is coming toyou if you tell us promptly where to find the stolen money," warned theUnited States assistant district attorney, sternly.

  "I've said all I'm going to say," returned Rollings, sullenly.

  "Captain Blake," asked Jephson, turning toward the bearded one, "youalso have much to answer for in the courts. Do you desire to win anyleniency by telling us, now, what you can?"

  "All I've anything to do with here," retorted Captain Blake, "is therunning of this yacht. That work you've taken from me. So I've nothingto do, and nothing to say."

  Mr. Jephson, however, continued to question first one prisoner, then theother, though in vain, until Mr. Baldwin broke in:

  "Jephson, you can't make these fellows talk. They're afraid they'd onlyrun their necks further into the noose of the law. Besides, this rascal,Rollings, hopes that, if you can't find the money, he'll win completepardon in the matter by restoring most of it later on. It'll save a gooddeal of time, I imagine, if you place both these fellows under closeguard by one of your deputies, then lead us in a search through thiscraft."

  By this time Jed Prentiss, following orders, had begun to turn loose onthe fog-horn, sounding it so rapidly that Ab Perkins, somewhere behindin the mist with the "Panther," must be able to guess what had happened.

  One of the deputies now guarded Rollings and Captain Blake, while theother had gone below to the engine room. There the engineer's crew hadagreed to serve faithfully under the new command, but the deputy wasthere to see to it that they didn't change their minds. QuartermasterBickson and one of his seamen had driven the crew of the "Victor" to theforecastle, and mounted guard over them.

  The searchers, comprising Mr. Jephson, Mr. Baldwin and the latter'scaptain, Halstead, were joined by Mr. Ross, Joe Dawson and Ted Dyer.

  "There are enough of us here," laughed Mr. Baldwin, "to turn this craftinside out in another half hour."

  First of all, Frank Rollings's own quarters were searched, as a matterof course. It had been learned, since coming aboard, that the abscondingcashier was now the owner of t
he "Victor," having bought her secretlythree days before his flight.

  There was no safe in the owner's cabin. The desk stood wide-open, withhardly a scrap of paper in it. The mattress was yanked from the bed,ripped and thoroughly searched, but not a trace of the stolen money wasfound. The pillows were served in the same fashion, with no betterresults. Other nooks and corners of the cabin were explored, withoutsuccess. Nor were any better results achieved in the captain's cabin.

  Cabin, dining room and state-rooms below were explored. By this time thesearchers had broken up into smaller parties. The more they searched themore dispirited did the hunters become.

  "We're not going to find the missing money with ease," announced Mr.Jephson, when he had rounded up all his searching force on deck.

  "We've looked in about every possible place except the forecastle, thewater butts and the coal bunkers," declared Jason Ross, disgustedly.

  "The money isn't likely to be in any of those places," declared Mr.Jephson, shaking his head. "Hullo, what's that racket?"

  Off in the fog a horn was sounding frantically.

  Tom Halstead laughed.

  "You ought to know that tune, Mr. Jephson. You've heard it days enough.That's the 'Panther' coming up with us, with Ab Perkins in command. Heunderstood our signal, as I thought he would. He'll be hailing us withintwo minutes."

  "But that won't be finding the money," broke in Joseph Baldwin,impatiently.

  "Nor do I believe we're going to find it--not immediately, anyway,"answered Mr. Jephson. "This boat doesn't seem to be full of hidingplaces, and I believe we have done all the searching we can do out hereat sea. We shall have to run the 'Victor' in at anchorage at SanFrancisco, then put aboard a force of officers under experienceddetectives, and leave the search to them."

  "Confound it," growled Jason Ross, "I know, as well as I know I'mstanding here, that there are three million dollars in actual cashsomewhere within a hundred feet of us. It makes me almost frantic tothink that we can't put our hands right on it."

  "Ahoy, there!" roared a voice off in the fog.

  Though the other craft was invisible, and though the voice came througha megaphone, the hearers knew it was Ab Perkins's voice. Jed snatched upa megaphone to shout back:

  "Ahoy, 'Panther'!"

  "Ahoy! Then you've found the 'Victor'?"

  "Aye, and captured her."

  "Did you find Rollings!"

  "He's a prisoner, under close guard."

  "And the money?"

  "That's what we all want to know," Jed admitted, sadly.

  "You can't find it?"

  "Not even a dollar bill!"

  There was a pause, during which those on board the steam yacht knew thattheir friends on the motor yacht were discussing this chilling news.

  "What are Captain Halstead's orders?" shouted Ab, finally.

  Jed bent over the bridge rail to talk with Captain Tom, then answered:

  "Keep about abreast of us, and a quarter of a mile off. Proceed withus, straight for the Golden Gate. Keep your fog-horn sounding atintervals of one minute, or at such other intervals as you may hear ussounding. Three sharp blasts of the whistle will mean for you to standby to find out what we're doing in the fog."

  "Aye, aye," answered Ab Perkins. "Is that all?"

  "That's all, Mr. Perkins."

  The "Victor" now proceeded on her way to the home port at about eightmiles an hour. Though no one on board could see the "Panther," the soundof the latter's fog-horn was always with them.

  "The prisoner, Rollings, wants to see you, Mr. Jephson," called thedeputy marshal from the deck-house cabin.

  Jephson went back.

  "Well, Rollings, have you come to your senses? Are you going to tell uswhere the missing money is?" demanded the assistant district attorney.

  "I know nothing about any missing money," replied the bank cashier,doggedly. "See here, man, what I want to ask is: Do you intend totorture me needlessly?"

  "No; what do you want?"

  "Let me go to my own cabin, and let me have these handcuffs off,"pleaded the prisoner. "I need rest; I'm nearly a wreck."

  "I can let you go to your cabin, and even remove the handcuffs," agreedMr. Jephson. "But I'll have to place a guard in there with you.

  "All right, then," sighed the prisoner.

  He was taken to his own cabin, the handcuffs removed, and the cashierthrew himself upon his bed, while the deputy marshal took a seat wherehe could watch his man.

  Captain Blake begged a similar privilege, which was refused. He was madeto go out on deck where he could be watched by all hands.

  For half an hour Rollings lay on the bed, his eyes closed, as thoughasleep. Occasionally he twitched, or made some slight movement. That wasall. The deputy seated opposite began to find the situation a dull one.At last the prisoner half sat up, to take off his shoes.

  "My feet are burning," he complained, as he dropped the shoes at thefoot of the bed, then sank back on the pillow.

  "You're nervous; that's why your feet trouble you," observed the deputy,with a knowing smile.

  Then Rollings began to breathe heavily; bye and bye two or three snoresescaped him. The deputy, finding it duller and duller, unintentionallyallowed his eyes to close. Instantly the cashier's own eyes opened atrifle. At last, smiling cunningly, the cashier moved slightly, securingone of his shoes. He poised it, aimed and threw. The heel of the shoestruck the deputy on the head, causing him to drop forward out of thechair and lie apparently senseless on the floor.

  Suppressing a cry of exultation, Frank Rollings leaped from the bed.There was now the light of mania in his eyes. This thief, disgraced,about to be despoiled, and presently to be sent to prison for a longterm, preferred to die.

  This he might have accomplished with the deputy's revolver, but thatwould not enable him to carry out all of his purpose. On one wall of thecabin stood a rack containing a water-bottle and two glasses.

  Over to this rack stole the captured thief. He swung the rack to oneside, then pressed a certain nail in the wood-work there. Instantly adoor in the wall swung open.

  Rollings's eyes eagerly peered into the recess thus laid bare. Then,with a nearly inarticulate cry of joy, he drew out a small thoughheavy-looking iron box.

  "Neither me nor the money shall they have!" uttered the wretch, ininsane joy.

  With a last look at the still unconscious deputy, Frank Rollings threwhis cabin door open.

  As he sprang to the deck three or four watchers saw him.

  "Look out! There's the prisoner trying to escape!" shouted JosephBaldwin.

  There was not time for anyone to reach Rollings ere that crafty,unbalanced wretch, clutching desperately at the iron box, bounded to therail, stood there tottering for an instant, and then leaped far out intothe water.

  It was Tom Halstead who first saw the iron box and comprehended themeaning of the scene.

  "There he goes!" yelled Halstead. "And the box with the three millionsin it will sink like a stone!"

  CHAPTER XXIV

  CONCLUSION

  Never slow to act, Captain Tom darted aft, intent on leaping overboardalso.

  Ted Dyer, however, chanced to be standing close to the stern. Ted sawRollings when the latter first leaped to the rail.

  As quickly as it flashed upon Dyer what was happening, the SanFrancisco boy scrambled to the rail. Almost at the instant that Rollingsjumped Ted's own feet left the rail. The two struck the water withinthirty feet of each other.

  Nothing but the slow speed of the steam yacht, perhaps, saved both frombeing dragged under by the force of suction. In a moment or two the pairwere left astern.

  Feeling the shock of the cold water, Rollings's first instinctive actwas to try to keep himself afloat. Curiously, he would not, at first,let go of the iron box, which, with its contents, weighed many pounds.

  Now, over the top of a rolling wave Ted Dyer's head appeared. All thishad taken place in a few seconds.

  "You want to catch me--you want the money!"
sputtered Rollings,expelling a spray of water from his mouth. "You shall do neither!"

  Clutching tightly at the box as an aid to his own drowning, FrankRollings let himself go beneath the surface.

  Promptly Ted went down after him, swimming straight and lustily.

  Another figure sprang forward and downward, shark-like, through thewater. This was Tom Halstead, who, with his stoutest strokes, had justreached the scene.

  Between them Tom and Ted succeeded in seizing the box. By a commonimpulse, for they could not talk, they forced it from Rollings, risingto the surface.

  "Blub-bub-bub--whew!"

  Rollings, rising to the surface, made that noise as he fought forbreath. The cashier, an excellent swimmer, saw the two boys, a dozenfeet away, swimming and holding up the box.

  "Neither me nor the money shall you have!" he roared, striking out at astrong overhand swimming gait. He was almost upon them like a flash.

  But there was another there, too. Joe Dawson had also leaped over fromthe rail of the motor yacht. Joe got along just in time to swim betweenRollings and the two boys who were doing their best to keep up and holdthe iron box, too.

  "Back for yours! Go away back and float!" cried Joe, pushing one of hisfighting hands against the cashier's face.

  "I'll take _you_ down, then, or the box!" screamed Rollings.

  "Oh, all right, then. Take me," mocked Joe. "I'm used to it."

  Furiously the pair fought in that rolling sea. Joe devoted everyenergy, first of all, to keeping the cashier from winding his armsaround him.

  Presently Rollings gave up that effort, trying to dodge around Joe andget at the other pair, who, swimming slowly, were at the same timemanaging to keep that precious iron box afloat. This latter task, easyat first, soon became difficult. As the minutes passed the box becamemore and more of a burden, until it threatened to drag both swimmersunder. Yet they hung to it manfully.

  Up on the bridge of the "Victor" Jed Prentiss had his own hard task toperform.

  Almost at the outset the swimmers had vanished in the fog astern. JedPrentiss instantly gave orders for the steam yacht to stop and reversethe screw. At the same time he ordered the "Victor" to go aroundhard-a-port. Even this circle had to be one of large diameter.

  "No hails down there on the deck!" rang Jed's voice, sternly. "Noconfusion of calls. Let me do all the hailing."

  Megaphone in hand, young Prentiss stood at the port bridge rail.

  "Ahoy!" he roared, through the megaphone.

  Again and again he repeated the call. At last he thought he heard ananswer out of the deeps.

  "Louder!" he roared. "Give us your position."

  Suddenly, some sixty feet off the rail, Jed just made out the heads ofJoe Dawson and Frank Boilings.

  The cashier was floating, now, making no resistance, for Joe had struckhim a blow across the head with his clenched fist. Rollings, stunned,floated unresistingly, supported by Dawson.

  "We'll have a boat to you in a jiffy!" shouted Jed, while Bickson threwa life preserver with almost perfect aim.

  Now, the "Victor," whose speed had been slowing down, was stopped.

  Joe and his charge had drifted just out of sight, but a boat was quicklylowered, under command of Bickson, and reached the pair, after hailing.

  "Where's the captain?" demanded the quartermaster, as Joe and Rollingswere hauled in.

  "Hail 'em. They're close at hand," Joe replied.

  The first hail brought an answer. In a few moments more the iron box wascarefully brought over the side into the small boat. Finally Tom and Tednimbly joined the others.

  "Get back to the yacht as quickly as you can. Rollings may come to, and,fighting in a small boat like this, he could make it unsafe--for themoney," Captain Tom Halstead added, with a wan grin.

  Little time passed before strong hands bore the iron box up over theside of the "Victor." Then Frank Rollings, just beginning hazily to cometo, was carried up. This time he was handcuffed, to remain so until SanFrancisco should be reached.

  It was an anxious conference that gathered in the main cabin asAssistant District Attorney Jephson proceeded to force the iron box thathad come within a hair's breadth of going to the bottom of the ocean.The three boys who had gone overboard after it stood by in theirdripping garments.

  As the lid of the sheet-iron box went up, a subdued cheer arose. Thisincreased in volume to a din as Mr. Jephson swiftly tore the paperwrappings from one of the packages that he had lifted out. The firsttightly-packed bale of crisp, new thousand-dollar bills was in view.

  "All of the stolen money--the whole three million dollars--appears to behere," announced Mr. Jephson, presently, as he began placing the balesback in the iron box, which, now that it was open, proved not to be asthick or solid as it looked when closed.

  "Then I'm off to where I can get dry and warm," muttered Tom Halstead."Come along, fellows."

  It was all over but making the anchorage at San Francisco. There was asomewhat long, though uneventful cruise, through fog that lasted to theend. With the "Panther's" crew divided up between two boats, the workwas hard, indeed. It was a welcome hour to all when anchorage wasfinally made not far from the foot of Market Street, San Francisco.

  Frank Rollings was afterwards tried, convicted, and sentenced to twentyyears' confinement, which he is now serving.

  Captain Blake was convicted of firing upon the "Panther," of runningwithout lights or signals, and of attempting to resist United Statesofficers. He was sent to prison for twelve years. Blake confessed thatthe idea in turning back on the course was to elude the "Panther," andthen seek a lonely point on the coast of Mexico for landing.

  Nor did Cragthorpe escape, his sentence being ten years for the part hehad played. Yet, before he was sent away, this wretch gave the evidencewhich cleared Robert Gentry of the crime of which the latter stoodaccused. Young Gentry was released, exonerated, and Rose Gentry, whomTom Halstead had briefly befriended on the Overland Mail at Oakland,wedded her own heart's choice, the broad-shouldered young man who hadmet her at the San Francisco ferry mole.

  Cragthorpe, as it was afterwards learned, had been serving Rollings forsome time, and Cragthorpe it was who, having made the acquaintance ofGaston Giddings, lured the latter into the opium dens of Chinatown. HadCragthorpe succeeded in wedding Rose Gentry--and her fortune--he mighthave discarded Rollings. As it was, he participated deeply in Rollings'scrimes, and had absconded from San Francisco with him on board the"Victor" as a fighting man and trusted agent.

  Gaston Giddings has been broken of the fearful curse of the opium habit,but he is no longer president of the Sheepmen's Bank. He is naturallytoo weak-willed for prominent service in the financial world.

  Ted Dyer, you may be sure, became a member of the Motor Boat Club, goinginto its engineer squad. Ted's worthless, heartless uncle was arrestedon his return to San Francisco, and a new guardian, who was appointedfor Ted, secured the young man's full inheritance back out of theproperty of the uncle.

  All of our young Motor Boat Club friends remained aboard the "Panther"for the balance of the winter and well into the spring. They had manyenjoyable cruises, though none as exciting as the one just closed.

  The reward that the directors of the Sheepmen's Bank voted to all handsfor the recovery of the three million dollars, made the bank accounts ofthese sturdy, brave young navigators swell considerably. Not, however,that any of Captain Tom Halstead's comrades needed money, for they havethat which is worth far more--the power that strong hands, brave heartsand fearless, truthful eyes bring to any human being when rightlyemployed.

  It is possible, even very likely, that we may yet again meet up withthese splendid young fellows, who stand for the new type in Americanpower of the seas in the twentieth century.

  In the meantime, let us hail Tom Halstead, Joe Dawson, and all the otherresourceful, capable and brave lads with their own famous club yell:

  "_M. B. C. K.! M. B. C. K.! Motor Boat Club._ WOW!"

  [THE END.]

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