Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE ESCAPE OF THE BULLY

  The group standing about the newly rescued lad on the veranda of thedeserted bungalow galvanized into instant action.

  "Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender are in her!" shouted Rob, "come on,scouts, we'll get after them while we can."

  With a shout the Boy Scouts ran for the boat and speedily pulled out tothe Flying Fish. Hastily as they executed this move, however, the twoin the other boat had had time to head her about and start at top speedfor the mouth of the inlet.

  "Clap on more sail, my hearties," roared the captain, almost besidehimself with excitement, "I want ter get my hands on them two piraticalcraft."

  Rob, with a look of grim determination on his usually pleasant face,held the Flying Fish true on her course, but, heavily laden as she was,she could not make her usual speed and the hydroplane soon distancedher. Jack Curtiss stood in her stern and waved a mocking hand at theBoy Scouts as the light-draft craft shot over the shoals and shallowswith case while the Flying Fish had to lose much time and way bythreading in and out seeking the deeper water.

  "Douse my toplights, I can't stand that," bellowed the irate CaptainHudgins. "I'll put a shot in that jackanapes' locker."

  With these words, and before any of the boys could stop him, he rose tohis feet and sent a bullet from his ponderous revolver flying in thedirection of the fleeing motor boat. It missed and hit the water nearby, sending up a little fountain of spray.

  Even at the distance they were the occupants of the Flying Fish couldsee the fear which this warlike move inspired in the bully and hiscompanion. They threw themselves flat in their boat till only thehands of Bill, who was steering, were visible.

  They need not have feared, however. The captain's hasty move broughtdown on his head Rob's wrath, though the young leader could not find itin his heart to be really angry with the old man who had been irritatedpast endurance by the bully's mocking defiance.

  "Shiver my garboard strake," he exclaimed contritely, when Rob pointedout to him that he might have killed one of the occupants of thehydroplane, "shiver my garboard strake, lad, I saw red fer a minutejust like I did that time the Chinese pirates boarded the Sarah JaneButts in the Yellow River."

  Although there was not much hope of catching the two, Rob stuck to thechase even when he realized the scouts were outdistanced, and in factkept his attention so closely riveted on the other craft that whenthere came a sudden jar and jolt and the Flying Fish stopped with agrunt and a wheeze, he realized with a start that he had not beenwatching the treacherous channel and was once more fast on a sand bar.

  With a last shout and a yell of defiance the bully and his companion,who had by now got over their fright, shot out on to the ocean andrapidly vanished.

  "There goes our hope of catching those two crooks," cried Tubbyangrily, while the engine of the Flying Fish was set at reverse. "It'sall off now. They know that we have rescued Joe and they'll fly thecoop for some other part of the country."

  "I suppose they came down here to get their tent, not realizing we'd behere so soon," observed Andy, which indeed was the fact.

  Fortunately the Flying Fish was not very hard aground and a littlemanipulation got her off into deep water once more.

  "I guess those two chaps are almost in Hampton by this time and gettingready to leave town," observed Rob as the motor boat forged ahead, oncemore.

  "This will be the safest thing for them to do," exclaimed Merritt,"they are in a serious position this time. Kidnapping is a direoffense."

  "I wonder what they came back for?" said Tubby suddenly.

  "No doubt to get their tent and the few things they had left on theisland," vouchsafed Rob, skillfully dodging a shoal as he spoke,"maybe, too, they intended to see how Joe was making out."

  "I wasn't making out at all," said the small lad, with a shudder at therecollection of his imprisonment.

  "Never mind, Joe, that's all over now," put in Merritt.

  "I'm glad it is," answered the small lad, "and just think, if I hadn'tbeen a Boy Scout and understood that code I might have been there yet."

  "That's true enough," said Rob, "for we had about made up our mindsthat the bungalow was deserted, and were not going to botherinvestigating it, till we saw the smoke."

  About an hour later the boys landed once more in camp, where theirreception by the others may be well imagined by my young readers.

  "And now comes the final chapter in the career of Messrs. Jack Curtissand Bill Bender," said Rob decisively, "I'm going to take a run up toHampton. Joe, you'll come along, and you, Merritt, and Tubby. If thatletter was delivered, as I imagine it was, Joe's parents must be in aterrible state of anxiety by now and we must hurry up and see them atonce."

  "Right," agreed Merritt, and a few moments later, having left thecaptain and the others ashore, the Boy Scouts and their young leaderwere speeding toward Hampton. With the craft lightened as she was,they made good time and arrived at the yacht club pier speedily.

  News of the events which had transpired at the island had evidentlyreached the town, for Mr. Wingate himself, with Mr. Blake and Merritt'sfather were at the landing as the Flying Fish glided up to it.

  The three elders were almost as enthusiastic as the boys had been overthe safe recovery of Joe, the details attendant on which Rob rapidlysketched to them. He had hardly concluded and had not had time to askhow they knew of the kidnapping when a wild-eyed man in faded old farmclothes, accompanied by an equally distracted woman, came rushing downto the wharf.

  "Where's them Boy Scouts? I allers knew no good would come of my sonjoining 'em," the man shouted. "I'll give a hundred dollars fer a boatthat'll take me ter Topsail Island in ten minutes."

  "'No need of that, Mr. Digby," said Rob quietly stepping forward withhis hand on Joe's shoulder, "here is Joe safe and sound."

  "Great hopping watermelons!" yelled the farmer, rushing at his sonfollowed by his wife. Together the worthy souls almost squashed thesmall lad like a butterfly under a harrow. But at last the firstgreetings were over and the farmer turned to the somewhat amused groupof boys and men who were looking on.

  "My, what a fright we had," exclaimed Mrs. Digby, a motherly-lookingwoman, dabbing at her eyes with capacious pocket handkerchief, "we getsa letter tellin' us that our boy be kidnapped."

  "Yes we know all about that, Mrs. Digby," put in Mr. Blake, "yourecollect your husband telephoned to the chief of police here about it,and expecting news from the island, we came down here."

  "So he did, so he did," cried Mrs. Digby, "oh, dear me, Mr. Blake, I'min such a takin! I hardly know what I'm sayin'."

  "Consarn them Boy Scouts," sputtered the farmer, returning to hisoriginal grievance, "if Joe hadn't a joined them none of this wouldhave happened."

  "Oh, yes it would and worse in fact," said Mr. Blake quietly, "fromwhat I have learned of the affair it was your lad's knowledge of theMorse code, which every Boy Scout must know, that saved him when he wasconfined on the island."

  "That's right, pop," piped up the lad himself.

  "Wall, I don't know nothin' about Horses, codes," grunted Mr. Digby,somewhat mollified, "but if it saved Joe here it must be all right."

  "Then your animosity toward the Boy Scouts is somewhat modified,"smiled Mr. Blake, "let me tell you just what happened. As a matter offact the whole trouble dates back to the day your son exposed thecontemptible trick by which Jack Curtiss hoped to win the aeroplanemodel prize contest."

  The banker drew the farmer aside and related to him the story that hadbeen previously narrated by Rob.

  "I want ter shake yer hand, boy," exclaimed the fanner, darting at Robat the conclusion, "I want ter shake all yer hands," he yelled in hisenthusiasm.

  "Bless my soul," exclaimed Commodore Wingate suddenly, "we are cleanforgetting about those two young rascals who tried to extort the moneyfrom Mr. Digby. We must get after them at once and their accomplicewho, I suppose, is, the man delegated to take the money from under ther
ock."

  "What do you suggest?" asked Mr. Blake.

  "That we hasten to the office of the chief of police and then get intomy car and ferret them out if possible," said the commodore briskly,"they must be made to suffer for this."

  "I don't believe that Sam Redding had any hand in it," put in Rob asMerritt mentioned the name of the boat-builder's son. "You know thatall our investigation only pointed to two persons, Jack and Bill, andtheir assistant, Hank Handcraft."

  A short time later Merritt, Tubby and the Digbys being left behind onthe landing, a high powered car, containing Rob, his father, CommodoreWingate and the chief of police of Hampton shot out on to the roadleading to the farm owned by Jack Curtiss' father. Inquiry at theBender home had already developed the fact that Jack and Bill had leftthere hurriedly a short time before, saying they were going out to theCurtiss place. The party was doomed to disappointment, however, so faras the hope of catching Jack or his accomplices at the farm wasconcerned. Old Mr. Curtiss informed them that his son had taken thefamily buggy and driven furiously off down the road with Bill Bender ashort time before.

  "He got a hundred dollars from me," explained the old man simply, "hetold me he was goin' ter invest it in some rich mining stock his friendBender had promoted but--what's the matter, gentlemen," he broke off,noticing the half-pitying look on the faces of the men in theautomobile. Mr. Blake hurriedly explained the attempted extortion ofwhich Jack had been guilty.

  "What, Jack--my son!" exclaimed the old man in half daze at thestunning intelligence, "my boy Jack do a thing like that? Why, itcan't be true. I don't believe it."

  "I'm afraid, nevertheless, it is," rejoined Mr. Blake, but the old manonly shook his head.

  "I'll not believe it," he kept repeating.

  "I wish that so good a father had a worthy son," remarked Mr. Blake asthe car shot out of the farm and out upon the highroad in the hope ofovertaking the buggy.

  At the Digby farm the machine was turned off to take the cross roadsand at this spot they encountered a buggy coming toward them driven bya farmer friend of Mr. Blake's.

  "Seen a rig with Jack Curtiss and Bill Bender in it?" shouted thebanker as the car was slowed up by Commodore Wingate.

  "Down the road a piece driving like the Mischief," responded the rusticpointing back with his whip, "but you're wrong 'bout ther' bein' onlytwo of them; that no-good beach-comber, Hank Handcraft, was in therewith them."

  With a shouted word of thanks the car dashed forward once more. It wasevident that, realizing that their game was up, Jack and Bill hadpicked up Hank, and, with a sense of loyalty for which Rob certainlywould not have given them credit, were trying to save him too.

  "Where can they be headed for?" wondered Mr. Blake as the car dashedforward.

  "I can hazard a guess," exclaimed Commodore Wingate, "for the Sunnysiderailroad station. If they make a train they may escape us yet."

  "Je-rus-a-lem," exclaimed the chief of police, a man named Applegate,pulling out a huge old-fashioned silver watch, "there's a train due ina few minutes now; if we don't make it, they'll slip through ourfingers!"

  Faster and faster the car roared forward and suddenly as it shot rounda curve the little station of Sunnyside came in sight. Tied outside itwas the buggy and horse of farmer Curtiss and on the platform stoodthree figures that the party in the auto made out at once as JackCurtiss, Bill Bender and their unsavory ally.

  The road took a long curve at this point and while they could see thestation the pursuers had the mortification of knowing that it would besome minutes before they could reach it. As the car bounded forward,swaying like a rocking ship over the rough roads, there came a suddensound that made Rob's heart bound.

  The long whistle of an approaching train.

  Faster the machine shot onward roaring like a battery of machine gunsgoing into action. Its occupants leaned forward with eyes glued on thegroup on the platform.

  The trio of whom the autoists were in pursuit had by this time realizedthat they were the objects of the chase and were nervously staring upthe track down which was fast approaching the train by which they hopedto escape.

  The auto was still a good two hundred yards from the station when thetrain rolled in and, hardly stopping, started to move out again.

  "Stop! stop!" yelled Chief Applegate, at the top of his lungs, and theothers waved their hands frantically. The engineer looked back at themwith a grin.

  "Some more idiots missed their train, Jim," he remarked to the fireman,"I might have waited for them but we're five minutes behind scheduletime now."

  The fireman nodded understandingly and as the auto, in a cloud of dust,dashed up to the little depot the train, with a screech that soundedlike the last defiance of the bully, shot round a curve and vanishedwith a cloud of black smoke.

  "Beaten!" gasped the chief.

  "We can telegraph ahead and have them arrested in New York," suggestedRob.

  "No, perhaps it is all for the best," counseled Mr. Blake, "the parentsof both those boys are respected citizens, and it would be a cruelgrievance to them were their boys to be publicly disgraced. Let themwork out their own salvation."

  And so Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Hank Handcraft vanish for a timefrom the ken of the Boy Scouts, leaving behind them no regrets, exceptit be those of their parents who were for many months bowed down withthe grief and humiliation of their boys' misdoings.