Provisions, to use Tom’s way of expressing it, were now “more than low,” and as they ate the scant food dealt around, Dick could not help but think of how Dora might be faring.
“I’d willingly starve myself if only it would give her what she needs,” he thought. It made him sick at heart to think of how she might be suffering.
Mile after mile was passed, until the sun began to descend over to the westward. The yachts were now close on to quarter of a mile apart.
“Here comes another steamer!” cried Tom presently. “Look here, why can’t we get some help from her?”
“Perhaps we can!” burst out Dick. “I never thought of that.”
“Let us signal her anyway,” suggested Sergeant Brown.
A flag was run up as high as the topmast permitted, and they headed directly for the steamer’s course.
As the ship came closer they made her out to be a big “tramp” from the South American trade. For the benefit of those who do not know, let me state that a tramp steamer is one going from one port to another regardless of any regular route, the movements of the craft depending entirely upon the freight to be picked up.
“She sees the signal!” exclaimed Dick, after an anxious wait of several minutes.
Slowly the steamer came up to them, and then her ponderous engines ceased to work.
“What is wanted?” came in Spanish from a dark-looking man on the forward deck.
“Can’t you talk English?” cried Dick.
“A leetle.”
“We are after that other sail-boat. The men in her are thieves and have abducted a girl, too. Will you help us catch them?”
At this the man on the steamer drew down his face and held a consultation with several behind him.
“You are sure they are thieves?” he asked presently.
“Yes.”
“Have they with them the money that was stolen?”
“We are pretty certain they have.”
“And the girl?”
“Yes.”
“And what is the reward for the girl, senor?”
“Well, I declare!” burst out Tom. “They are after a reward the first thing.”
“No reward yet,” answered Dick. “But there may be.”
At this the South American scowled. “We cannot lose time on a hunt that is worth nothing,” he said. “We must get to Brooklyn by tomorrow morning.”
“You won’t help us bring them to justice?”
“We cannot afford to lose the time.”
Without further words the big steamer’s engines were started up again and away she sped, leaving the Searchlight to sink and rise on the rollers left in her wake.
“My, but that fellow is accommodating!” groaned Dick. “He isn’t doing a single thing without pay.”
“We might have bought some provisions from him,” put in Martin Harris. “I reckon he’d sell some for a round price—being so near to the end of his voyage.”
“I don’t want his stuff,” remarked Sam.
“I’m afraid it would choke me if I tried to eat it.”
The stop had given the Flyaway an advantage, and she was making the most of it. But before the gun went down those on the other yacht saw her head for the coast once more.
“I guess the note told the truth,” said Harris.
“Is Sand Haven near here?” questioned Tom.
“It is not over half a mile further down the coast.”
“And how far are we out?” was the police sergeant’s question.
“Between five and six miles, as near as I can calculate.”
“Will they be able to run in by dark?”
“I think so. You see, the wind is shifting, and it depends a good bit on how much it veers around,” concluded the old sailor.
Slowly the sun sank in the west. It was growing cloudy and a mist was rising. The mist made Martin Harris shake his head; but, not wishing to alarm the others, he said nothing.
But soon Dick noticed the mist and so did the rest. “Gracious, supposing we get caught in a fog!” muttered Tom.
“I was just thinking of it,” returned his elder brother. “There will be no fun in it—if we are out of sight of land.”
A quarter of an hour went by, and still no land appeared. It was now so raw that the boys were glad enough to button their coats tightly about them. Then, of a sudden, the fog came rolling over them like a huge cloud, and they were unable to see a dozen yards in any direction.
“This is the worst yet!” groaned Sam. “What’s to do now?”
“Yes, what’s to do now?” repeated Sergeant Brown. “Can you make the coast, skipper?”
“To be sure I can,” replied Harris, as he looked at the compass. “But I don’t know about landing. You see we might stick our nose into a sandbank before we knowed it.”
“Perhaps the fog will lift?” suggested Carter.
“A fog like this isn’t lifting in a hurry,” said Dick. “Like as not it won’t move until the sun comes up tomorrow morning,” and in this guess he was right.
A half-hour went by, and from a distance came the deep note of a fog-horn, sounding apparently from up the shore.
“We ought to have a horn,” said Sam. “Some big boat may come along and run us down.”
“There is a horn in the cabin pantry,” replied Martin Harris. “We might as well bring it out. If we are sunk one or more of us will most likely be drowned.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” ejaculated Carter. “I’ll get the horn,” and, running below, he brought it up, and he and Sam took turns at blowing it with all the strength of their lungs.
“One thing is comforting; those rascals are no better off than we are,” was Tom’s comment.
“Yes; but if they founder, what will become of Dora?”
“I don’t believe any one of them would put himself out to save her.”
“I guess you’re right there, Dick. I never thought of her, poor girl,” replied the brother.
Dick and Sergeant Brown were well up in the bow, one watching to starboard and the other to port, for anything which might appear through the gloom. The horn was blowing constantly, and now from a distance came the sounds of both horns and bells.
“We are getting close to some other ships,” said Martin Harris. “I reckon we had best take a few reefs in the mainsail and stow away the jib,” and these suggestions were carried out.
The minutes that followed were anxious ones, for all felt that a collision might occur at any moment. The fog was growing thicker each instant, and this, coupled with the coming of night, seemed to shut them in as with a pall.
“A boat is dead ahead!” came suddenly from Dick, and Sergeant Brown also gave a cry of warning. Then came a shock and a crash and a splintering of wood, followed by the cries of men and boys and the screams of a woman and a girl.
“We’ve struck the Flyaway!” called out Tom, and then he found himself in the water, with Sam alongside of him.
CHAPTER XXVIII
HOME AGAIN—CONCLUSION
When the collision came, Dick, to save himself from injury, gave a leap up into the air, and Sergeant Brown did the same. The shock sent the Searchlight backward, and when the youth came down he found himself sprawling on the Flyaway’s deck, close beside Dan Baxter.
“Dick Rover!” gasped the former bully of Putnam Hall. “So it is your boat that has run into us?”
“Baxter, where is Dora Stanhope?” panted Dick, as soon as he could speak. He was afraid that one or both yachts were going down and that Dora might be drowned. Even in this extreme moment of peril his one thought was for his girl friend.
“Find out for yourself,” burst out Baxter, and aimed a blow at Dick’s head with his fist. But the blow never reached its mark, for Mumps hauled the bully backward.
�
��We’ve had enough of this—at least, I’ve had enough,” said Fenwick, astonishing himself at his own boldness. “Dick, Dora is in the cabin—no, she’s coming up.”
“Save me!” came in a scream from the girl.
“Oh, Dick, is it really you!” and she ran right into Dick’s arms.
By this time it was discovered that the two yachts were locked together, the bowsprit of the Flyaway having become entangled in the rigging of the Searchlight. Both yachts were badly damaged, but neither sufficiently so as to be in danger of sinking.
“Back with you!” came from Arnold Baxter, and fired his shotgun at the police officer. But the rocking of the boats spoiled his aim. Then Sergeant Brown fired, and the elder Baxter went down, shot through the left leg.
By this time all of the evildoers realized that the final struggle for freedom was at hand, and began to fight desperately, Buddy Girk engaging Dick, Bill Goss facing Carter, and Mrs. Goss beating Martin Harris back with a stew pan from the gallery. In the meantime Tom and Sam swam back to the Searchlight, and clambered on board as rapidly as possible.
They were in time to see Carter go down, hit over the head by Bill Goss. But that was the last of the fight, so far as the skipper of the Flyaway was concerned, for two blows, delivered by Tom and Sam simultaneously, stretched him senseless on the deck.
“You had better give up!” cried Tom to Dan Baxter, who was doing what he could to get the two yachts apart. “This is our battle.”
“Not much!” muttered the bully. “Stand back, or it will be the worse for you!”
He sprang at Tom and shoved a pistol under the boy’s very nose. But before the weapon could be discharged, Dick, leaving Dora, kicked the pistol from the bully’s hand!
“You villain, take that!” cried Dick, and grappled with Baxter. Both rolled over on the deck, and, shoved by somebody from behind, Sam rolled on top of the pair. A second later all three rolled down the cabin stairs in a heap.
“Oh, my back!” It was Baxter who uttered the cry, and not without cause, for his backbone had received a hard crack on the bottom step of the stairs.
“You lie still!” commanded Dick, as he leaped to his feet. “If you dare to move I’ll put you out of the fight altogether.”
“Don’t—don’t shoot me!” panted Dan Baxter in sudden fear.
“Do you give in?”
“Yes.”
“Then keep still. Sam, guard him, will you? I want to see how matters are on deck.”
“Yes, I’ll guard him,” answered the youngest Rover.
The fight on deck had been short and fierce, but our friends had had the best of it from the very start, and when Dick came up he found but little for him to do. Arnold Baxter lay where he had fallen, moaning piteously, while Buddy Girk and Bill Goss were in irons. Mrs. Goss still stood at bay, flourishing her stew pan over her head, while Mumps remained at a distance, his arms folded over his breast and an anxious look in his eyes.
“I won’t go to prison!” shrieked Mrs. Goss. “You let me and my husband go.”
“Mrs. Goss, you had best give in—” began Sergeant Brown, when Tom, sneaking up behind her, snatched the stew pan from her grasp. As she turned on the boy, Carter ran in, and in a twinkle she was held and her hands were bound behind her. Then the crowd turned to Mumps.
“I submit,” said the misguided boy. “Didn’t I tell you in the note that I would help you?”
“Yes, he has tried to do better,” put in Dora.
“If it hadn’t been for him I wouldn’t have had a mouthful to eat today.”
“I guess we can trust him, then,” said Dick. “But, Mumps, take care that you don’t go back on us.”
“I won’t go back on you,” said the toady. “I’m going to cut that crowd after this.”
“You can’t make a better move,” was Dick’s comment.
Now that affairs were in their own hands, our friends hardly knew how to turn next. After a discussion it was agreed to place the Flyaway in charge of Dick and Tom, who were also to carry Dora and Mumps. All of the others went aboard of the Searchlight, Arnold Baxter being carried by the police officers, who attended to his wound as well as the accommodations on board of the yacht permitted.
So far nothing had been said about the money and securities stolen by Baxter and Girk, but they were in a locker in the Flyaway’s cabin, and easily brought to light.
“This is a big day for us,” said Dick. “Won’t folks at home be astonished when they hear of what we have done?”
“I cannot get home fast enough,” said Dora. “Poor mama, if only I knew she was safe!”
“Josiah Crabtree shall suffer for this,” said Dick. “Remember, it was he who had you carried off by Mumps and Dan Baxter.”
The Searchlight was already on the way and the Flyaway came behind her. The course was due west, and they kept on until the breakers could be heard in the distance. Then Martin Harris bore away to the northward.
With the coming of daylight the fog disappeared as if by magic, and they found themselves close to the seashore town of Lightville. Here there was a small river, and they ran into this and came to a safe anchor close to one of the docks.
On going ashore Dick’s first movement was to send two telegraph messages, one to Rush & Wilder, telling them that the stolen securities and money had been recovered, and the second to Captain Putnam, breaking the news of Dora’s safety and requesting the master of the Hall to acquaint Mrs. Stanhope with the fact and take steps toward Josiah Crabtree’s arrest. Later on another message was sent to Randolph Rover so that the boys’ uncle might no longer be alarmed over their safety. Sergeant Brown also telegraphed to his superiors.
Inside of an hour after landing, Arnold Baxter, Buddy Girk, Dan Baxter, and the two Gosses were safely housed in the Lightville jail. At first it was thought to arrest Mumps also, but he begged for his liberty, and promised, if let go, to tell everything. As some witness would be wanted when the others came to trial he was taken at his word.
It was a happy party that started for Cedarville that evening. No one could have been more attentive than Dick was to Dora, and no one could have been more appreciative than the girl of what the three Rover boys had done for her.
At Ithaca a surprise awaited the crowd. Frank, Fred, and Larry were there to welcome them, and soon after Captain Putnam appeared.
“I am very glad to see you all safe and sound,” said the captain, as he shook hands. “You have had a regular ocean chase, and no mistake.”
“And how is my mother?” questioned Dora quickly.
“She is happy, Miss Stanhope; but the shock of your sudden disappearance has made her quite ill.”
“And Josiah Crabtree?”
“Has disappeared. Your mother said he wanted to marry her after you went away, but she would not listen to him. I imagine that after this he will keep his distance.”
“He had better keep his distance—if he wants to remain out of jail,” put in Dick.
The return of the boys to Putnam Hall was the signal for a regular jollification, and my readers can rest assured that all of the cadets made the most of it. Captain Putnam ordered an extra dinner for them, and in the evening a huge bonfire was started on the campus, and, as the boys gathered around Dick, Tom, and Sam they sang “For he’s a jolly good fellow!” until they were hoarse. It was a celebration never to be forgotten. “Just the right sort for a home coming,” as Sam expressed it.
“Let them have it,” said the master, as he looked on. “They deserve it.”
“You are right,” returned George Strong.
“Those Rover boys have proved themselves regular heroes.”
* * * *
Here I will bring to a close the story of the Rover boys’ doings on the ocean while trying to rescue Dora Stanhope from her abductors and while endeavoring to recover the fortune stolen from Ru
sh & Wilder.
Words cannot describe the happiness which mother and daughter felt when Mrs. Stanhope and Dora found themselves together once more. Tears were freely shed, and the widow blessed the boys who had done so much for herself and her child. She declared that her eyes were now open to the real wickedness of Josiah Crabtree, never more would she have anything to do with the man.
Rush & Wilder were immensely pleased to recover what had been taken from their safe, and when money and securities were returned to them they rewarded the Rover boys and the others handsomely for their work. But to this day Dick declares that the recovery of the stolen fortune was “only a side issue.” “We were out to rescue Dora,” he says. “And, thank God, we did it!”
In due course of time the evildoers were brought to trial, and with Mumps and the others to testify against them, all were sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. Being wounded, Arnold Baxter was taken, as before, to a hospital; but this time the authorities kept a close watch on him.
With their enemies in custody the Rover boys imagined that life at Putnam Hall would now run along smoothly. But in this they were mistaken. They had hardly settled down to their studies when a strange message from over the sea started them off on a search for their father, the particulars of which will be related in another volume, to be entitled: “The Rover Boys in the Jungle; or, Stirring Adventures in Africa.” In this book we will not only meet Dick, Tom, and Sam again, but also Dan Baxter and several others with whom we are already acquainted.
But for the time being all went well, and here we will leave the three boys, wishing them the best of good luck in the future.
1For the doings of the Putnam Hall students previous to the arrival at that institution of the Rover boys, see The Putnam Hall Series, the first volume of which is entitled, “The Putnam Hall Cadets.”—PUBLISHERS
THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
CHAPTER I
UNPLEASANT NEWS
“Back to Putnam Hall again, boys! Hurrah!”
“Yes, back again, Tom, and glad of it,” returned Dick Rover. “I can tell you, the academy is getting to be a regular second home.”
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