“Come back here! Come back!”
She started after Dora, who now had the cabin door wide open. Away went girl and woman up the low stairs. But Dora was the more agile of the two, and terror lent speed to her limbs.
On the deck, however, she came to a pause. The Flyaway was a good six feet from the dock, and between lay a stretch of dark, murky water the sight of which made her shiver. What if she should fall in? She felt that she would surely be drowned.
But as Mrs. Goss came closer her terror increased. She felt that if she was caught she would be treated more harshly than ever for having attempted to run away.
“I’ll take the chances!” she though, and leaped as best she could. Her feet struck the very edge of the string piece beyond and for an instant it looked as if she must go over. But she clutched at a handy rail and quickly drew herself to a place of safety.
And yet safety was but temporary, for Mrs. Goss followed her in her leap and struck the dock directly behind her.
“Come back, you minx!” she cried, and caught Dora by the skirt.
“I won’t come back! Let me be!” screamed the girl, and tore herself loose, ripping her garment at the same time. Then she started up the dock as swiftly as her trembling limbs would carry her.
But fate was against her, for as she gained the very head of the dock, Bill Goss appeared, followed by Baxter and Mumps.
“Hullo, who’s this?” cried the sailor. “The gal, sure as you are born!”
“She is running away!” called out Mrs. Goss. “Stop her!”
“Here, this will never do,” roared Dan Baxter. “Come here, Dora Stanhope!” and he made a clutch at her.
Soon the two boys were in pursuit, with the sailor close behind. Fortunately for the evildoers the spot was practically deserted, so that Dora could summon no assistance, even though she began to call for help at the top of her lungs.
The girl had covered less than a half-block when Baxter ranged up alongside of her.
“This won’t work!” he said roughly. “Come back,” and he held her tight.
“Let me go!” she screamed. “Help! Help!”
“Close her mouth!” put in Mumps. “If this keeps on we’ll have the police down on us in no time!”
Again his hand was placed over Dora’s mouth, while Baxter caught her from behind. Then Goss came up.
“We’ll have to carry her,” said the former bully of Putnam Hall. “Take her by the feet.”
“Wot’s the meanin’ o’ this?” cried a voice out of the darkness, and the crowd found themselves confronted by a dirty-looking tramp who had been sleeping behind a pile of empty hogsheads.
“Help me!” cried Dora. “Bring the police! Tell them I am Dora Stanhope of Cedarville, and that I—”
She could get no further, for Mumps cut her short.
“Dora Stanhope,” repeated the tramp.
“If you forget this, my man,” said Baxter, “here’s half a dollar for you. This lady is my cousin who is crazy. She just escaped from an asylum.”
“T’anks!” came from the tramp, and he pocketed the money in a hurry. Then he ran off in the darkness.
“He’s going to tell the police anyway!” cried Goss. “You had better get away from here.”
“You are right,” responded Mumps. “Hurry up; I don’t want to be arrested.”
As quickly as it could be done they carried Dora aboard of the yacht and bundled her into the cabin.
“Now keep her there!” cried Baxter to Mrs. Goss. “After we are off you can explain how she got away.”
“She hit me with a stick and knocked me down,” said the woman glibly. “She shan’t get away a second time.”
Once again poor Dora found herself a prisoner on board of the Flyaway. Then the lines were cast off, the sails set, and they stood off in the darkness, down New York Bay and straight for the ocean beyond.
CHAPTER XX
A LONG CHASE BEGUN
As they journeyed down the Hudson the boys and Martin Harris scanned the river eagerly for some sign of the Flyaway.
“It’s ten to one she put down a pretty good distance,” remarked Dick. “They wouldn’t bring Dora over here unless they were bound for New York or some other place as far or further.”
“I believe you,” said Tom. “But she may be delayed, and if what Harris says is true the Searchlight ought to make better time than Baxter’s craft.”
Several miles were covered, when, Sam, who had just come up from the cabin, called attention to a farmer who was ferrying a load of hay across the river.
“If he’s been at that sort of work all day he may know something of the Flyaway,” he suggested.
“We’ll hail him, anyway,” said Tom. “It won’t do any harm, providing we don’t lose any time.”
So the farmer was hailed and asked if he had seen anything of the craft.
“Waal now, I jest guess I did,” he replied. “They war havin’ great times on board of her—a takin’ care of that crazy gal.”
“A crazy girl!” cried Dick. “Who said she was crazy?”
“One of the young men. He said she was his sister and had escaped from some asylum. She called to me to help her. But I don’t want nuthin’ to do with crazy gals. My wife’s cousin was out of his head and he cut up high jinks around the house, a-threatenin’ folks with a butcher knife.”
“That girl was not crazy, though, as it happens,” said Dick coldly. “That villain was carrying her away from home against her will. She was no relation to him.”
“By gosh!” The farmer’s face fell and he stared at the youth blankly. “You are certain of this?”
“Yes. We are after the crowd now. If we catch them we’ll put them in prison, just as sure as you are the greatest greeny we ever met,” continued Dick, and motioned to Harris to continue the journey.
The farmer wanted to “talk back,” as the saying is, but could find no words. “Well, maybe I deserved it,” he muttered to himself. “I was tuk in, no doubt on’t.” And he continued to ferry his hay load along.
“Well, we are on the right track, that’s one satisfaction,” said Tom. “That farmer couldn’t have done much against a man and two big boys.”
“He could have gone ashore and got help,” replied Dick. “But he was so green he took in all that was told to him for simple truth. How Dan Baxter must have laughed over the way his ruse worked!”
“Yes, and Mumps too,” added Sam. “Say, we ought to punch their heads well for them when we catch them.”
“Let us get our eggs before we cook them,” said Tom. “By the way, I’m getting hungry.”
“Ditto,” came from Harris. “Will you boys see what you can offer? I don’t like to leave the tiller, for I know just how to get the best speed out of the Searchlight.”
“I’ll get up some kind of a meal,” said Sam, who had played cook on many previous occasions.
Inside of half an hour he had the table set and Harris was called down, Dick taking his place. By the time all hands had been served they were in sight of upper New York City.
“Now we had better take in some sail,” said the old sailor. “The yachts are pretty thick around here and we will miss the Flyaway without half trying unless we are careful.”
By the time it was dark they were pretty well down the water front of the metropolis. A consultation was held, and it was decided to lower the mainsail and topsail and leave only the jib flying.
“We can’t go much further tonight, anyway,” said Harris. “I don’t know but what it may be as well to tie up somewhere.”
“We’ll have to do that unless we can catch some sort of clue,” responded Dick gloomily. “If they have taken her to some place in New York we’ll have a big job to find her.”
A half-hour passed, and they were on the point of turning in at a dock when
Tom gave a cry. “Look! Look!”
“What’s up, Tom!” came from Dick and Sam simultaneously.
“Is that the Flyaway?”
All gave a look and saw a large yacht moving away from a dock just below where they had thought to stop.
“Call Harris!” cried Dick, and Sam ran to the cabin for the sailor, who had just gone below.
“I reckon that’s our boat,” said Martin Harris, after a quick look.
“Hark!” cried Dick, and held up his hand. “That’s Dan Baxter’s voice, just as sure as fate.”
“I believe you,” returned Sam. “Come, we can run her down in no time.”
As quickly as it could be accomplished the course of the Searchlight was changed. But the tall buildings of the city cut off a good deal of wind, and it took several minutes before they could get their sails filled.
“Boat ahoy!” shouted Tom, before Dick could stop him. “Is that the Flyaway?”
“That’s Tom Rover!” came back, in Mumps’ voice. “They have tracked us, after all!”
“Tom, what made you call?” demanded Dick in disgust. “We might have sneaked upon them unawares.”
“Never mind, I reckon we can catch them any how,” returned Tom, but he was crestfallen, nevertheless, as he realized the truth of his elder brother’s observation. “Crowd on the sail, Harris.”
“That’s what I am a-doin’,” came from the sailor. “We’ll catch ‘em before they gain the Battery.”
“Yes, but we must be careful,” said Dick. “We don’t want to have a collision with some other boat.”
“No, indeed,” put in Sam. “Why, if one of those big ferryboats ran into us there would be nothing left of the Searchlight.”
“You jest trust me,” came from Martin Harris, “I know my business, and there won’t be any accidents.”
“The other yacht is making for the Jersey shore,” cried Sam, a little later. “If we don’t look out we’ll lose her. There she goes behind a big ferryboat.”
“She’s going to try to bother us,” grumbled Martin Harris, as he received a warning whistle from the ferryboat and threw the yacht over on the opposite tack. “The fellow who is sailing that boat knows his business.”
“It’s that Bill Goss, I suppose,” said Tom. “There they go behind another ferryboat.”
“It won’t matter, so long as we keep her in sight,” said Harris. “We are bound to run her down sooner or later.”
Inside of half an hour the two boats had passed the Statue of Liberty. The course of the Flyaway was now straight down the bay, and the Rover boys began to wonder where Dan Baxter and his crowd might be bound.
“They must have Dora a close prisoner,” mused Dick, with a sad shake of his head. “That is if they didn’t leave her in New York,” he added suddenly.
“Do you suppose they did that?” asked Sam.
“Perhaps—there is no guessing what they did.”
“We missed it by not telegraphing back to the authorities at Cedarville to arrest Josiah Crabtree,” said Tom. “I think we can prove that he is in this game before the curtain falls on the last act.”
“We’ll telegraph when we get back,” answered Dick, never thinking of all that was to happen ere they should see the metropolis again.
Gradually the lights of the city faded from view and they found themselves traveling down the bay at a rate of five to six knots an hour.
“We don’t seem to be gaining,” remarked ‘Tom, after a long silence. “I can just about make her out and that’s all.”
“But we are gaining, and you’ll find it so pretty soon,” answered Martin Harris. “They had the advantage in dodging among those other boats, but now we’ve got a clear stretch before us.”
On and on went the two yachts, until the Flyaway was not over five hundred feet ahead of the Searchlight.
“What did I tell you?” said Harris. “We’ll overtake her in less than quarter of an hour.”
“This is a regular yacht race,” smiled Dick grimly. “But it’s for more than the American Cup.”
“Keep off!” came suddenly from ahead. “Keep off, or it will be the worse for you!”
It was Dan Baxter who was shouting at them. The former bully of Putnam Hall stood at the stern rail of the Flyaway and was using his hands like a trumpet.
“You had better give up the race, Baxter!” called Dick in return. “You can’t get away from us, no matter how hard you try.”
“Keep off,” repeated Baxter. “We won’t stand any nonsense.”
“We are not here for nonsense,” put in Tom. “What have you done with Dora Stanhope?”
“Don’t know anything about Dora Stanhope,” came back from Mumps.
“You have her on board of your boat.”
“It’s a falsehood.”
“Then you left her somewhere in New York.”
“We haven’t seen her at all,” put in Baxter. “If you are looking for her you are on the wrong trail. She went away with Josiah Crabtree.”
“Did he take her to Albany?”
“No. They went West.”
“We do not believe you, Baxter,” said Dick warmly. “You are one of the greatest rascals I ever met—not counting your father—and the best thing you can do is to surrender. If you don’t you’ll have to take the consequences.”
“And we warn you to keep off. If you don’t we’ll shoot at you,” was the somewhat surprising response.
“No, no; please don’t shoot at them!” came in Dora’s voice. “I beg of you not to shoot!”
She had escaped from Mrs. Goss’ custody and now ranged up alongside of Dan Baxter and her other enemies who were handling the Flyaway. Her hair was flying wildly over her shoulders and she trembled so she could scarcely stand.
CHAPTER XXI
THE MEETING IN THE BAY
“There is Dora now!” cried Dick, and his heart leaped into his throat at the sight of his dearest friend.
“Dick Rover, are you there?” came from the girl in nervous tones.
“Yes, Dora, I am here, with my brothers and a sailor friend.”
“Save me, please!”
“We will!” came from all of the Rover boys in concert.
“Take her below!” roared Baxter angrily, as he turned to Mrs. Goss, who had followed Dora to the dock. “Didn’t I tell you to keep a close eye on her?”
“She said she wished to speak to you,” answered the woman. “I thought she wanted to make terms with you.”
Mrs. Goss caught Dora by the wrist and, assisted by Mumps, carried her below. She struggled and tried to fight them off, and her cries, reaching Dick, made the youth long to be at her side.
“Let her alone, Baxter!” he cried hotly. “If you harm her you shall pay dearly for it, remember that!”
“Talk is cheap, Dick Rover,” came back with a sneer. “Now keep off, or I’ll do as I threatened.”
“You won’t dare to fire on us.”
“Won’t I? Just come a little closer and you’ll see.”
By this time the two yachts were not over a hundred feet apart, the Searchlight to the starboard of her rival. So, far the countless stars had brightened up the bosom of the ocean, but now Martin Harris noted a dark mass of clouds rolling up from the westward.
“We’ll have it pretty dark in a few minutes,” he cautioned. “If you want to haul up close, better do it at once.”
“All right, run them down,” ordered Dick, half recklessly. “I don’t care how much their boat is damaged, so long as I save the girl. Mumps ran me down, remember.”
“I reckon I can sheer ‘em all right enough,” grinned Harris, who by this time had entered fully into the spirit of the adventure. “But will they shoot?”
“I don’t believe they have any firearms,” said Tom. “And if they have I don�
�t think Baxter could hit the side of a house at fifty yards.”
“Are you going to keep off or not?” yelled Baxter. “I’ll give you just ten seconds in which to make up your mind.”
“By jinks! He has got a gun!” whispered Sam, as he caught a glint of the polished barrel. “The villain!”
“Baxter, you are playing a foolish game,” answered Dick. “What do you intend to do with Dora Stanhope?”
“That’s my business. I shan’t harm her—if you’ll promise to leave me alone.”
“Did you run off with her on Crabtree’s account?”
“It’s none of your business,” put in Mumps, who had just returned to the deck, after making sure that Dora should not get away from Mrs. Goss again for the time being.
“It is my business.”
“You’re awfully sweet on her, ain’t you?”
“Do you know it’s a State’s prison offense to abduct anybody?”
“I haven’t abducted anybody. She came of her own free will—at first. It’s not my fault if she’s sick of her bargain now.”
“I don’t believe a word you say.”
“Do as you please. But are you going to keep off or not?”
“We’ll not keep off.”
“Then I’ll fire on you.”
“If you do so, we’ll fire in return,” said Sam. “Maybe we can scare him too,” he added, in a whisper.
“I don’t believe you’ve got any weapon,” came from Mumps, in a voice that the toady tried in vain to steady. If there was one thing Mumps was afraid of it was a gun or a pistol.
“Try us and see,” said Tom. Then he raised his voice. “Harris, bring up that brace of pistols you said were in the locker.”
“All right,” answered the sailor, catching at the ruse at once; and he hurried below, to return with two shining barrels, made of the handles of a dipper and a tin pot. He held one of the tin barrels out at arm’s length. “Shall I fire on ‘em now?” he demanded at the top of his voice.
“Don’t!” shrieked Mumps, and dropped out of sight behind the mainmast of the Flyaway.
The toady had scarcely uttered the word when a loud report rang out, and a pistol bullet cut its way through the mainsail of the Searchlight. Baxter had fired his gun, but had taken good care to point the weapon over the Rover boys’ heads. The bully now ran for the cabin, expecting to receive a shot in return, but of course it did not come.
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