CHAPTER VIII.
ON THE LAKE AGAIN.
"Peterson!" cried Tom, in dismay.
"Can he be dead?" came from Sam. Then he bent over the lumberman. "No,he still lives. But he has been treated most shamefully."
"This must be some more of Arnold Baxter's work."
"Or else the work of some footpad."
Both boys knelt over the prostrate form of the lumberman and did whatthey could to restore him to his senses.
In this they were partly successful.
"Don't hit me again! Please don't hit me!" the man moaned, over andover again.
"You're safe," said Tom. But Peterson paid no attention, and onlybegged them not to hit him.
"Let us carry him to the _Swallow_," suggested Sam, and betweenthem they did so.
"Wot's dis?" asked Aleck Pop, in astonishment.
"He is our friend, and has been struck down," answered Tom. "Get somewater in a basin, and a little liquor."
When the colored man returned with the articles mentioned both boyswashed the wounded man's head and bound it up with a towel. Then Tomadministered a few spoonfuls of liquor. This seemed to give Petersonsome strength, but he did not fully recover for some hours.
"Follow the _Peacock_," were his first rational words. "Follow theschooner _Peacock_."
"The _Peacock_?" repeated Tom. "Why should we follow her?"
"Your brother is on board." And having spoken thus, the lumberman sankagain into semi-unconsciousness.
"Can he be telling the truth, or is he out of his head?" questionedSam.
"I'm sure I don't know, Sam."
"Perhaps we had better look around for the schooner he mentioned."
"All right, I'll do so. You stay here with Aleck."
"Hadn't I better go with you?"
"No, I'll keep my eyes open," concluded Tom, and hurried away.
It was now dawn, and the early workers were just getting to theiremployment. Soon Tom met a couple of watchmen and hailed them.
"I am looking for the schooner _Peacock_," said he. "Do you knowanything of the craft?"
"Sure, an' that's Gus Langless' boat," said one of the watchmen. "She'slying at the end of Bassoon's wharf, over yonder."
"Thank you," and Tom started away.
The wharf mentioned was a long one, and it took some time for the youthto reach the outer end. As he ran he saw a boat in the distance, movingaway with all sails set. Of course he could not make out her name, buthe saw that she was schooner-rigged, and felt certain she must be thecraft for which he was searching.
At the end of the pier he met a dock hand, who had been resting in anearby shed.
"Is that boat the _Peacock_?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know anything of the people on board?"
"I do not."
"Has she a cargo?"
"I believe not."
"You didn't see anybody going on her?"
"Hold up! Yes, I did; a young fellow and a man."
"Was the young man in a feeble state?"
"He seemed to be."
"Thank you."
Tom turned away with something of a groan. "Dick must be on board ofthat craft, along with the Baxters. Oh, what luck we are having! Nowwhat ought I to do next?"
His wisest move would have been to have informed the authorities, butTom was too much upset mentally to think of that. With all speed hereturned to the _Swallow_.
"The _Peacock_ has sailed!" he cried. "We must follow her!"
"You are certain?" queried Sam.
"Yes, I saw her in the distance. Come, let us get after her before itis too late."
As Luke Peterson was now doing fairly well, all of the others ran ondeck, and soon the _Swallow_ was in pursuit of the schooner. Atfirst but little could be seen of the _Peacock_, but when the suncame up they saw her plainly, heading toward the northwest.
"We must keep her in sight," said Tom.
"Yes, but supposing the Baxters are on board, how can we capture them?"came from Sam. "We are but three, or four at the most, countingPeterson, while that craft must carry a crew of five or six."
"We can hail some other boat to help us. The main thing is not to losetrack of the rascals."
The breeze was all that could be desired, and once the shore was leftbehind they kept the _Peacock_ in sight with ease. But, try theirbest, they gained but little on the larger boat.
As there was now nothing to do but to let the yacht do her best, Tomleft Sam at the wheel and turned his attention to Peterson. Thelumberman was now able to sit up, although very weak.
"I discovered Arnold Baxter and tracked him to the schooner's dock," hesaid. "His son came to the dock, and from what they said I am sure yourbrother is on the craft. Then they discovered me, and the father struckme down with the butt of a pistol he carried. After that all was ablank until I found myself here."
"You can be thankful you weren't killed."
"I suppose so. I shall not rest until that villain is brought tojustice. But what are ye up to now, lad?"
"We are in pursuit of the _Peacock_."
"On the lake or up the river?"
"On the lake."
"Can you keep her in sight?"
"So far we seem to be holding our own."
"Good! I'd go on deck and help ye, but I feel kind o' strange-like inthe legs."
"Better keep quiet for the present. We may need you later on."
"Got any firearms on board?"
"Yes, a gun and two pistols."
"Ye may want 'em afore ye git through with that crowd. They are badones."
"We know them thoroughly, Mr. Peterson. We have been acquainted withthem for years." And then Tom told of how Dan Baxter had been the bullyat Putnam Hall, and how he had run away to join his rascally father,and of how Arnold Baxter had been Mr. Rover's enemy since the days ofearly mining in the West.
"O' course they are carrying off your brother fer a purpose," said thelumberman. "Like as not they'll try to hit your father through him."
"I presume that is the game."
The morning wore away slowly, but as the sun mounted higher the breezegradually died down.
The _Peacock_ was the first to feel the going down of the wind,and slowly, but surely, the _Swallow_ crept closer to theschooner.
But at last both vessels came to a standstill, about quarter of a mileapart.
"Now what's to do?" questioned Sam dismally.
"I reckon we can whistle for a breeze," returned his brother.
"Whistling won't do us any good. I've been wondering if we could not dosome rowing in the small boat."
"Hurrah! just the thing!"
There was a small rowboat stored away on board the _Swallow_, andthis was now brought forth, along with two pairs of oars.
"Gwine ter row ober, eh?" observed Aleck Pop. "Racken you dun bettahbeen careful wot youse do."
"We shall go armed," answered Tom.
The boys soon had the rowboat floating on the lake, and they leaped in,each with a pair of oars, and with a pistol stowed away in his pocket.
From the start those on board of the _Peacock_ had been afraidthat the yacht was following them, and now they were certain of it.
"Two boys putting off in a rowboat," announced Captain Langless.
"They are Tom and Sam Rover," answered Arnold Baxter, after a briefsurvey through a marine glass.
"How did they get to know enough to follow this craft?"
"I'm sure I don't know. But those Rover boys are slick, and alwayswere."
"What will you do when they come up?"
"Warn them off."
"I've got an idea, dad," came from Dan.
"Well?"
"Why not get out of sight and let Captain Langless invite them onboard, to look for Dick. Then we can bag them and put them with Dick."
"By Jove, that is a scheme!" exclaimed the rascally parent. "Langless,will you do it? Of course, we'll have to get out of sight until theproper moment arrives."
"But if you bag 'em, what of those left on the _Swallow_?"questioned the captain.
"There is only one man, a negro. He doesn't amount to anything."
"There may be more--one or two officers of the law."
Arnold Baxter used his glass again. "I see nobody but the darky. Ifthere were officers at hand, I am sure they would have come along inthat rowboat."
"I guess you are right about that."
"If we capture the boys the darky won't dare to follow us alone, and itmay be that we can capture him, too," went on Arnold Baxter.
By this time the rowboat was drawing closer, and Arnold Baxter and Danstepped out of sight behind the forecastle of the schooner.
A few additional words passed between Captain Langless and the Baxters,and then the owner of the _Peacock_ awaited the coming of ourfriends, who were now almost alongside, never suspecting the trap whichwas set for them.
The Rover Boys on the Great Lakes; Or, The Secret of the Island Cave Page 8