The Rover Boys Megapack

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The Rover Boys Megapack Page 30

by Edward Stratemeyer


  “Dick’s been shocked by the searchlight!” cried Sam. “Come down here, somebody, and let us see what we can do for him.”

  “Shocked, is it!” cried Sergeant Brown. “If that’s the case, look out that somebody else don’t catch it.”

  Tom came tumbling down, followed by both police officers, and Dick was picked up and deposited on the couch. Then Sam kicked the searchlight and batteries into a corner.

  “They can stay there for all I care,” said he.

  “They are too dangerous, unless, a chap knows just how to handle them.”

  Dick lay with his eyes wide open, but unable to move. Tom bent down and announced that his heart was still beating.

  But little in the way of restoratives were at hand, and the most they could do was to rub the youth’s body in an attempt to restore the circulation.

  “Oh, I hope he isn’t permanently injured!” cried Tom. “If he should turn out a cripple it would be awful!”

  “That’s so,” answered Sam. “Poor Dick! He’s as bad off as if those rascals had shot him.”

  Slowly Dick came to his senses. But he was very weak, and soon he discovered that he was powerless to move his left arm.

  “It’s all numb,” he announced. “It feels as if it was dead.”

  “Let me shake it for you,” said Tom, and both brothers went to work, but with small success. The arm hung down as limp as a rag, and the left leg was nearly as badly off, although Dick said he could feel a slight sensation in it, like so many needles sticking him.

  “You see, I’ve been afraid of that battery right along,” said Martin Harris. “The professor got shocked once, and he limped around for a long while after.”

  “But he got over it at last, didn’t he?” questioned Tom eagerly.

  “I can’t say about that. He went off, and I haven’t seen him since,” was the unsatisfactory reply.

  The injuries to Dick and to Sam had somewhat dampened Tom’s ardor, and he wondered what they had best do next, and spoke to the police officers about it.

  “I don’t know of anything but to turn back to shore,” said Sergeant Brown. “We’ve lost them in the dark, and that is all there is to it. If we go ashore we can send out an alarm, and as soon as the Flyaway is spotted, somebody will go out and arrest everybody on board—I mean everybody but the young lady, of course.”

  “But they may come ashore in the dark.”

  “And they may do that even if we stay out here—and then they’ll have more of an advantage than ever. No, I think the best thing we can do is to turn back to the coast and make the safest landing we can find.”

  When Dick heard of this, however, he shook his head. “Don’t go back yet,” he pleaded. “See if you can’t make out the Flyaway somewhere. She won’t dare to sail very far without a light.”

  “I don’t go for giving up just yet,” put in Martin Harris. “As the lad says, she’ll show a light very soon now—for there is a coastwise steamer a-coming,” and he pointed in the direction of Sandy Hook.

  He was right, and soon the many lights from the big steam vessel could be plainly seen. She was heading almost directly for them, but presently steered to the eastward.

  “She must be almost in the track of the Flyaway,” went on Martin Harris. “Just wait and see if I ain’t right.”

  They waited and watched eagerly, and thus five minutes passed. Then from a distance they saw a light flash up.

  “There she is!” cried Tom. “Let us head for her at once. They won’t keep that light out long—just long enough to let that steamer go by.”

  Martin Harris was already at the tiller, and soon the Searchlight was thrown over and was again dipping her nose in the long ocean swells. The wind had died away only to freshen more than ever, and the chase now became a lively one.

  The enemy seemed to know that the exposure of their light had given those on the Searchlight the cue, and they were sailing as rapidly as all of their canvas permitted. But Harris was now handling his craft better than ever before, and slowly but surely the distance between the two craft was diminished, until the Flyaway could be made out faintly even without a light.

  “Don’t lose her again,” said Dick. “We must keep at it until we run them down completely.” And Harris promised to do his best.

  It was now past midnight, and the police officers said they were tired out and dropped into the cabin to take a nap. Dick likewise remained below, trying to get up some circulation in the lamed arm.

  “Can’t you feel anything?” queried Tom.

  “I think I can,” answered his big brother. “Yes, yes, it’s coming now!” he went on. “Thank God!” and he suddenly raised the arm and bent the fingers of his hand. By daylight that member of his body was nearly as well as ever. But this experience was one which Dick has not forgotten to the present day.

  Sam had bound up his burn with a rag saturated with oil and flour, and announced that he felt quite comfortable. “But just let me get hold of those Baxters,” he added. “I shan’t stand on any ceremony with them.”

  “I don’t believe any of us will,” said Tom.

  “But as anxious as I am to have this over, I would just as lief have the chase last until morning. Then we’ll be better able to see what we are doing.”

  “Or trying to do,” said Sam with a faint smile.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  A FLAG OF TRUCE

  Sunrise found the two yachts far out on the ocean with land nowhere in sight. The breeze was still stiff, but it was not as heavy as it had been, and Martin Harris was unable to decrease the space which separated his own craft from that of the enemy.

  “You see, the Searchlight is the better boat in a strong blow,” he explained. “When the wind is light the Flyaway has as good a chance of making headway as we have.”

  “Well, one thing is certain,” said Tom. “This chase can’t last forever.”

  “It may last longer than you imagine, lad.”

  “Hardly. We haven’t more than enough provisions aboard to last over today.”

  “Perhaps the other boat is even worse off,” said Sergeant Brown hopefully. “If that’s the case we’ll starve them out.”

  “I don’t care what we do, so long as we rescue Dora and get that stolen fortune,” said Dick, as he dragged himself to the crowd, followed by Sam.

  “And how’s Sam?” questioned Tom, turning to his younger brother.

  “Oh, I’m all right—if it comes to fighting.”

  “And you, Dick?”

  “I think I can do something—at least, I am willing to try.”

  Breakfast—a rather scant meal—had just been disposed of, when Martin Harris uttered a shout.

  “They want to do some talking,” he announced.

  “Why, what do you mean?” asked Dick.

  “They are hoisting a white rag.”

  “Sure enough!” ejaculated Tom, as he pointed to a flag of truce which Dan Baxter was holding aloft, fastened to an oar. “What do you make of that?”

  “They want to make terms,” laughed Sergeant Brown. “I reckon things are coming our way at last.”

  “Do we want to talk to them?” asked Tom.

  “Let us make them surrender, and do the talking afterward,” came from Sam.

  “It won’t hurt to let them talk,” said the police sergeant. “We can do as we please, anyway, after they are done.”

  The matter was discussed for a moment, and then Tom tied his handkerchief to a stick and held it up.

  “Ahoy there!” came from Arnold Baxter. “Will you honor the flag of truce?”

  “Yes,” yelled Sergeant Brown.

  “And let us have our distance after our talk is over, if we can’t come to terms?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then; we’ll come close enough to talk to you.�


  Slowly and cautiously the Flyaway drew nearer, until all on board of Harris’ yacht could see their enemies quite plainly.

  Arnold Baxter was armed with a shotgun, while Buddy Girk and Dan Baxter carried pistols. Mumps kept out of sight as much as possible, while Bill Goss attended to the steering of the boat. Dora and Mrs. Goss were below.

  “Well, what have you got to say?” demanded Dick, as soon as the others were within easy talking distance.

  “How many on board of that yacht?” demanded Arnold Baxter, as he looked at the police officers glumly.

  “Enough,” replied Dick. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

  “Don’t grow impudent, boy. It won’t set well.”

  “A person couldn’t be impudent to such a rascal as you, Arnold Baxter.”

  “Have a care, Dick Rover. What do you propose to do?”

  “Land all of you in jail, rescue Dora Stanhope, and recover that money you stole.”

  “Indeed!”

  “Yes—indeed! Don’t you think we are pretty close to doing it?”

  “No, you are a long way off. You won’t dare to break this truce while the flags fly. If you do, I’ll shoot you just as sure as you are born.”

  “I don’t intend to dishonor any truce, Arnold Baxter. But, nevertheless, you and your crowd are almost at the end of your rope, and you know it.”

  “Feeling hungry, ain’t you?” put in Martin Harris.

  “You shut up!” roared Dan Baxter, for Harris had hit the nail exactly on the head. “We’ll settle this with the Rovers and the police, not with you.”

  “You’ll settle with me for burning my sails and breaking my lanterns,” retorted the skipper of the Searchlight wrathfully.

  “Let us come to terms,” went on Arnold Baxter in a milder tone. “I reckon what you want principally is to rescue Dora Stanhope?”

  “Yes, I want that,” said Dick quickly.

  “If we hand her over to you, will you promise not to follow us any longer?”

  “Well—er—what of that money—” began Dick, glancing at those around him.

  “We can’t let you go,” interposed Sergeant Brown. “You are wanted for that robbery in Albany.”

  “We deny the robbery,” said Arnold Baxter.

  “All right—you’ll have a chance to clear yourself in court.”

  “We are not going to court, not by a jugful,” put in Buddy Girk. “If we give up the gal that’s got to end it. Otherwise, we don’t give her up, see?”

  “But you’ll have to give her up later on,” put in Tom. “And the longer you keep her the more you will have to suffer for it, when it comes to a settlement.”

  “Let’s give her up,” whispered Mumps to Dan Baxter. To the credit of the toady let it be said that he was heartily sick of the affair and wished he had never entered into it.

  “You keep your mouth shut!” answered the former bully of Putnam Hall. “My dad knows how to work this racket.”

  “Somebody said something about being hungry,” continued Arnold Baxter significantly, “I imagine Miss Stanhope is as hungry as any of us, if not more so.”

  “Do you mean to say you are starving her!” cried Dick indignantly.

  “I mean to say that she will have to starve just as much as we do,” was the unsatisfactory answer.

  “And you have run out of provisions?”

  “We have run out of provisions for her, yes.”

  “That means that you won’t give her any more, even though you may have some for yourselves? You are even bigger brutes than I took you to be,” concluded the elder Rover boy bitterly.

  “We’ve got to look out for ourselves,” said Dan Baxter. “If we let you have the girl you ought to be satisfied.”

  “Let us talk to Dora,” suggested Tom.

  “No, you can’t see her unless you agree to our terms,” said Arnold Baxter decidedly. “If we bring her up now she may try to get away from us.”

  “You have got to submit to arrest and stand trial,” said Sergeant Brown. “There are no two ways about it. If you won’t submit quietly we’ll have to fight. But let me tell you, if you fight it will go hard with you.”

  “That’s right; make them give up everything,” put in Tom. “I’ll fight them if it comes to the worst.”

  “If only they don’t harm Dora!” whispered Dick. “Think, they may be starving her already!”

  “I don’t believe they would dare, Dick.”

  “Dare? I think the Baxters are cruel enough to do most anything.”

  “Officer, do you know that you are on the high seas and can’t touch us?” went on Arnold Baxter, after an awkward pause.

  “I know nothing of the kind, and I’ll risk what I am doing,” retorted Sergeant Brown.

  “Can’t we compromise this matter?”

  “What else have you to propose?”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you’ll agree not to molest us further I’ll turn the girl over to you and make each of you a present of one hundred dollars,” went on Arnold Baxter nervously.

  “Want to bribe us, eh?” cried Tom. “Thanks, but we are not in that business.”

  “I never took a bribe yet, and I’ve been on the force six years,” put in Carter.

  “You can’t bribe me,” said the sergeant, in a tone that admitted of no argument. “You must surrender absolutely or take the consequences.”

  “All right, then; we’ll take the consequences,” was the reckless response. “And remember, we hold that girl, and any harm you do us will only counteract on her head.”

  “Don’t you dare to harm her, you villain!” cried Dick, turning pale. “Whatever you do you shall answer for in court.”

  “Humph, Dick Rover, don’t be so smart,” put in Dan Baxter. “This game is still ours, and you know it.”

  “I know nothing of the kind. We will starve you out and fight you, and you will see what the end will be, Dan Baxter,” retorted Dick; and then the two yachts began to drift apart once more.

  As the Flyaway moved off, Mumps, who had disappeared for a minute, came into sight once more. In his hand he hold something white, which he threw with all force at the Searchlight’s mainsail.

  “Take that!” he cried. “Take that, and remember me!”

  By this time the two yachts were so far apart that no more could be said.

  “What was that you threw on their boat?” demanded Baxter, turning to his toady.

  “A seashell,” replied Mumps. “I thought I could hit Dick Rover with it.”

  “Humph, you had better take some lessons in throwing,” muttered the bully. “You didn’t come within a dozen feet of him.”

  “Never mind; I showed them I wasn’t afraid of them,” said Mumps, and turned away. Then he looked back anxiously. “I hope they pick it up and see what’s inside!” he murmured. “Oh, but ain’t I tired of this crowd! If ever I get out of this, you can wager I’ll turn over a new leaf and cut Dan Baxter dead.”

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE COLLISION IN THE FOG

  “Hullo! Mumps isn’t keeping this flag of truce very good,” remarked Sam, as the seashell dropped at his feet.

  “There is something inside of the shell,” said Tom. “A bit of paper. Perhaps it’s a message?”

  “I’ll soon see,” returned his younger brother, and ran to where he could not be seen from the other yacht.

  He pulled from the seashell a small, square of paper, upon which had been hastily scrawled the following in lead pencil:

  “I will help you all I can and hope you won’t prosecute me. I will see that Dora S. gets something to eat, even if I give her my share. They intend to go to Sand Haven if they can give you the slip.”

  “Good for Mumps! He’s coming to his senses,” cried Sam, and showed the others the message. Di
ck read the words with much satisfaction.

  “I hope he does stand by Dora,” he said. “If so, I’ll shield him all I can when the crowd is brought up for trial.”

  “If he tells the truth we may as well put into harbor and make for Sand Haven,” said Martin Harris, who had now resumed the chase once more.

  “Yes; but he may not be telling the truth,” was Sergeant Brown’s comment. “The whole thing may be a trick to get us to go to Sand Haven while that crowd goes somewhere else.”

  “I think they are tired of carrying the girl around,” said Carter. “To give her up to us would have been no hardship.”

  “That’s it,” put in Martin Harris. “Well, I’m willing to do whatever the crowd says.”

  The matter was talked over at some length, and it was finally decided to cruise around after the Flyaway for the best part of the day. If, when night came on, the other craft should steer in the direction of Sand Haven, they would do likewise, and land as soon as darkness came to cover up their movements.

  Slowly the day wore along and the two yachts kept at about the same distance. They were both running due south, and land was out of sight as before.

  “This is developing into a regular ocean trip and no mistake,” remarked Tom, as he dropped into a seat near the cabin. “Who would have thought it when we left Cedarville in such a hurry?”

  “I’d like to know how things are going up there,” mused Dick. “It will be too bad if Josiah Crabtree succeeds in marrying Mrs. Stanhope while we are away.”

  “Let us hope for the best,” put in Sam.

  “Hullo, the Flyaway is moving eastward!”

  “What does that mean, Harris?” cried Dick.

  “It means that they want to make the most of this wind,” responded the skipper of the yacht grimly. “I’m learning a trick or two on ‘em, and I’ll overreach ‘em if they ain’t careful.”

  “You can’t do it any too quick,” answered Dick. “When next we meet there won’t be quite so much talking. Instead, we’ll have some acting, and pretty lively at that.”

  Sergeant Brown was questioned concerning his weapons, and said he had two pistols and Carter had the same. One of the extra weapons was loaned to Dick and the second went to Tom. It was decided that in case of a close brush Sam and Harris were to arm themselves with anything that was handy, but otherwise they were to attend to the sailing of the Searchlight.

 

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