CHAPTER VI
AN ISLAND MYSTERY
"Hullo, Hiram; where are you bound for?"
It was Rob who spoke, as Hiram hastened by his house in the earlydarkness.
"Oh, hullo, Rob," responded the other. "I was wondering who that washanging over the gate. Why, I'm going to Paul's house. I'm going totalk over that aeroplane model contest with him. I think that we standa chance to win if Jack Curtiss doesn't make good his boast."
"What was that?" inquired Rob.
"Oh, he says that he is going to build an aeroplane that will beat usall."
"And have it ready in a week?" was Rob's astonished query.
"That's what he says," responded Hiram. "It all looks kind ofsuspicious to me. Fifty dollars is a large enough sum to tempt Jack todo almost anything. Well, so long. I've got to hurry along. I'm latenow."
And the lad hastened away to keep his appointment.
Rob was about to go into the house and get a book, when his attentionwas arrested by a figure coming up the street at a smart pace whoseoutlines somehow seemed familiar to him. The next minute his guess wasconfirmed, when a hearty voice hailed him:
"Waal, here I am, lad--all shipshape and in first-class trim. Now, whatis it? What do yer want? Yer didn't explain in the note, but oldCaptain job Hudgins'll always stand by a shipmate in distress."
"Why, whatever do you mean, captain?" exclaimed Rob, amazed, andthinking that the captain must have taken leave of his wits. "Who doyou mean is in distress?"
"Mean?" echoed the captain, in his turn, it seemed, surprised. "Why,that note yer sent me. Here it is--all written on one uv themnew-fangled machines."
Rob took the crumpled paper the old seaman drew out of his coat andscanned it hastily by the light of the street lamp. The following notemet his puzzled gaze.
"DEAR CAPTAIN: Please come over and see me at once. Something serioushas happened at the bank. I need your aid and advice.
"Yours,
"ROB BLAKE."
"Hum! The signature is typewritten, too," mused Rob. "What kind of ajoke is this? I don't know, but I'll bet anything that Jack Curtiss isat the bottom of it."
"Well," demanded the captain, "what is it, a bit of gammon? I'llkeel-haul the man as did it if I can find him."
"It looks like a hoax of some sort," admitted Rob, sorely puzzled; "butI can't for the life of me see the object of it. Come into the house aminute, captain, and we'll try to figure it out."
Seated beneath the lamp in the library of his home, Rob scrutinized theletter closely, but could find absolutely no indication about it tobetray who could have typewritten it.
"How did you come to receive it?" he asked suddenly.
"Why, old Hank Handcraft come out in that crazy launch uv his and guvit ter me," rejoined the captain. "I ought ter hev told yer that inthe first place, but I was all took aback and canvas a-shiver when yertole me yer never wrote it."
"Hank Handcraft," repeated Rob. "He's that queer old fellow that livesin a hut away down the beach?"
"Yes, and a bad character, too," replied the captain. "He used ter bea smuggler, and done a term in jail fer it."
"Well, it's pretty certain that he didn't write this," said Rob. "Hecouldn't get hold of a typewriter, even if he could use one. What didhe tell you about it? Did he say who gave it to, him?"
"No, he just handed it ter me, and says: 'A young party in Hampton sayster give yer this and hurry.' I was just gettin' my supper when Iheard his hail of 'Island, ahoy!' I hurried out, and there he was inthat old teakettle uv his, at the end uv my wharf."
"And he left before you read the note?"
"I should say. He hurried right off ag'in."
"Well, I don't see any way to get at the bottom of this mystery but togo and see old Hank himself," mused Rob, after a period of thought."What do you think, captain?"
"That's the tack ter go about on, youngster," agreed the man of TopsailIsland; "but if yer are goin' down ter his place at this hour uv night,we'd better take somebody else along. He's a bad character, and I'monly a feeble old man and yer are a lad."
"I'll go round by Merritt Crawford's house," proposed Rob; "then we'llpick up Tubby Hopkins. I guess we can handle any trouble that Hankwants to make, with that force on hand."
"I guess so," agreed the old man. "I must say I'd like ter get ter thebottom uv this here mystery. 'All fair and above board' is my motto.I don't like these secret craft."
The two young scouts were both at home, and after brief explanationsthe four started off at a lively pace for Hank Handcraft's hut, whichwas situated about two miles along the beach. As they hastened along,Rob explained to the others in more detail the nature of their mission,but though they were as much mystified by the sudden summons of CaptainHudgins as Rob and the captain himself, they could hit upon noplausible explanation for it.
It was a little over half an hour before they reached the dilapidatedhut where old Handcraft, a beach-comber, made his dwelling place. Ashort distance off the shore they could see by the moon, which had nowrisen, that his crazy old motor boat lay at anchor. This was a signthat Hank was at home. Lest it be wondered that such a character couldhave owned a motor boat, it may be explained here that the engine ofHank's old oyster skiff had been given him by a summer resident whodespaired of making it work. Hank, however, who was quite handy withtools, had fixed it up and managed to make it drive his patched oldcraft at quite a fair speed--sometimes. When it broke down, as itfrequently did, Hank, who was a philosopher in his way, simply got outhis oars and rowed his heavy craft.
As an additional indication that the hut was occupied, light shonethrough several of its numerous chinks and crannies, and a knock at thedoor brought forth a low growl of: "Who's there?"
"We want to see you," said Rob.
"This is no time of night to call on a gentleman; come to-morrow andleave your cards," rumbled the gruff voice from inside the hut.
"This is serious business," urged Rob. "Come on, open that door, Hank.This is Rob Blake, the banker's son."
"Oh, it is, is it?" grumbled the voice, as the clank of the door-chainsbeing taken off was heard from within. "Well, I ain't had muchbusiness deals with your father lately, my private fortune beingsomewhat shrunk."
With a muffled chuckle from the speaker, the door slowly opened, andHank, a ragged figure, with an immense matted beard, long tangled hairand dim blue eyes, that blinked like a rat's, stood revealed.
"Come in, come in, gentlemen," he bowed, with mock politeness. "I'mglad to see such a numerous and representative party. Now, what kin Ido you for?"
He chuckled once more at his little jest, and the boys involuntarilyshrank from him.
There was nothing to do, however, but enter the hut, and Hankaccommodated his guests with a cracker box apiece as chairs. On atable, roughly built out of similar boxes, a battered old stable lampsmoked and flared. A more miserable human habitation could not beimagined.
"Hank," began the captain, "speak me fair and above board, mate--whogive yer that letter ter bring ter me ter-night?"
"What letter?" blankly responded Hank, a look of vacancy in his shiftyeyes.
"Oh, yer know well enough; that letter yer give me at supper time."
"Captain, I'll give you my davy I don't know what you're talkingabout," returned the beachcomber.
"What!" roared the captain: rising to his feet and advancingthreateningly. "Yer mean ter tell me, yer rapscallion, that yer don'trecall landin' at Topsail Island earlier ter-night and givin' me a notewhich says ter come urgent and immediate ter see young Rob Blake here?"
"Why, captain," calmly returned Hank, with an indulgent grin, "I reallythink you must be gettin' childish in your old age. You must be seeingthings. I hope you ain't drinking."
"You--you scoundrel, you!" roared the old captain, almost besidehimself with rage, and dancing with clenched fists toward Hank.
The beach-comber's filthy hand slipped into his rags in a minute, andthe nex
t instant he was squatting back on his haunches in the corner ofthe hut, like a wildcat about to spring. In his hand there glistened,in the yellow rays of the lamp, a blued-steel revolver.
"Don't get angry, captain. It's bad for the digestion," grinned thecastaway. "Now," he went on, "I'm going to tell you flat that if yousay I came to your island to-night, you're dreaming. It must have beensome one else.
"Come on, boys," directed the captain, with an angry shrug. "There's nouse wastin' time on the critter. I'm inclined ter think now thatthere's somethin' more than ordinary in the wind," he added, as theyleft the hut, with the half-idiotic chuckles of its occupant ringing intheir ears.
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