“You can be thankful you weren’t killed.”
“I suppose so. I shall not rest until that villain is brought to justice. 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 in the 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 bad ones.”
“We know them thoroughly, Mr. Peterson. We have been acquainted with them for years.” And then Tom told of how Dan Baxter had been the bully at 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 of early mining in the West.
“O’ course they are carrying off your brother fer a purpose,” said the lumberman. “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 breeze gradually died down.
The Peacock was the first to feel the going down of the wind, and slowly, but surely, the Swallow crept closer to the schooner.
But at last both vessels came to a standstill, about quarter of a mile apart.
“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 do some rowing in the small boat.”
“Hurrah! just the thing!”
There was a small rowboat stored away on board the Swallow, and this was now brought forth, along with two pairs of oars.
“Gwine ter row ober, eh?” observed Aleck Pop. “Racken you dun bettah been 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 afraid that 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 brief survey 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 always were.”
“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 on board, 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 the proper 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. If there were officers at hand, I am sure they would have come along in that rowboat.”
“I guess you are right about that.”
“If we capture the boys the darky won’t dare to follow us alone, and it may be that we can capture him, too,” went on Arnold Baxter.
By this time the rowboat was drawing closer, and Arnold Baxter and Dan stepped 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 our friends, who were now almost alongside, never suspecting the trap which was set for them.
CHAPTER IX
CAUGHT IN A TRAP
“Do you see anything of the Baxters?” asked Sam, when the rowboat was within a hundred feet of the schooner.
“I thought I did before, but I don’t see them now,” answered Tom.
“Rowboat, ahoy!” shouted Captain Langless. “What brings you?”
“I reckon you know well enough,” Tom shouted back. “We are after Dick Rover.”
“Dick Rover? Who is he?”
“Your prisoner.”
“Our prisoner?” The owner of the Peacock put on a look of surprise. “Really, you are talking in riddles.”
“I don’t think so. Where are Arnold Baxter and his son Dan?”
“Don’t know anybody by that name.”
“They went on board of your boat,” put in Sam.
“You must be mistaken.” Captain Langless turned to his mate. “Find any stowaways on board?”
“Nary a one,” was the mate’s answer. “And just came up from the hold, too.”
This talk perplexed Tom and Sam not a little.
Was it possible Luke Peterson had made some mistake?
“We have it on pretty good authority that the Baxters are on board of your boat, and that Dick Rover is aboard, too,” said Sam.
“It’s all a riddle to me,” answered Captain Langless. “We are not in the business of carrying prisoners. We are bound for Sandusky for a cargo of flour.”
This talk completely nonplused the boys, and they held a whispered consultation.
“I don’t believe him,” said Sam.
“No more do I. But what shall we do about it?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“You can come on board and look around, if you wish,” called out the owner of the schooner. “I want you to satisfy yourself that you are mistaken.”
“Shall we go?” whispered Tom. “It may be a trap?”
“He seems honest enough.”
“Supposing I go and you stay in the rowboat? Then, if anything happens, you can call on Aleck and Peterson for help.”
So it was arranged, and in a minute more Tom was climbing up the ladder which had been thrown over the Peacock’s side.
“Is the other young fellow coming?” asked the captain, who did not fancy this move.
“No.”
The captain scowled, but said no more.
Once on deck Tom looked around him curiously, and then moved toward the companion way leading to the cabin. He felt instinctively that he was in a dangerous position. As he crossed the deck several ill-appearing sailors gazed at him curiously, but said nothing—being under strict orders from the captain to remain silent in the presence of the stranger.
The cabin of the Peacock was a small affair, considering the general size of the schooner, and contained but little in the shape of furniture.
Dick had been removed long before, so the apartment was empty of human occupants when Tom entered.
“Nobody here,” he murmured, as he gazed around. “What foolishness to come, anyway! The Baxters could easily hide on me, if they wanted to.”
He was about to leave the cabin when a form darkened the companion way, and Arnold Baxter appeared.
“Silence!” commanded the man, and pointed a pistol at Tom’s head.
The sight of the rascal startled the youth and the look on Baxter’s face caused him to shiver.
“So you are here, after all,” he managed to say.
“Silence!” repeated Arnold Baxter, “unless you want to be shot.”
“Wher
e is my brother Dick?”
Before Arnold Baxter could reply Dan put in an appearance, carrying a pair of handcuffs.
“Now, we’ll get square with you, Tom Rover,” said the bully harshly.
“What do you intend to do?”
“Make you a prisoner. Hold out your hands.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You won’t refuse,” put in Arnold Baxter, and, lowering his pistol, he leaped behind Tom and caught him by the arms. At the same time Dan attacked the lad in front and poor Tom was soon handcuffed. Then he was led out of the cabin by a rear way, a door was opened, and he was thrust into the blackness of the hold. But ere this was accomplished he let out one long, loud cry for help which reached Sam’s ears quite plainly.
“Hi! what are you doing to my brother?” ejaculated the younger Rover. He had brought the rowboat close up alongside the schooner.
“I don’t know what’s up,” answered the mate of the Peacock. “Better come aboard and see.”
“He has fallen down the hatchway!” cried Captain Langless. “Poor chap! he’s hurt himself quite badly.” And he disappeared, as if going to Tom’s assistance.
If Sam had been in a quandary before, he was doubly so now. Had Tom really fallen, or had he been attacked?
“I can’t leave him alone,” he thought, and without further hesitation leaped up the side of the schooner with the agility of a cat.
It was a fatal movement, for scarcely had he reached the deck when he was pounced upon by Captain Langless and held fast until Arnold Baxter appeared.
“Let me go!” cried Sam, but his protest proved of no avail. A lively scuffle followed, but the lad was no match for the men, and in the end he found himself handcuffed and thrown into the hold beside Tom.
“Tie the rowboat fast to the stern,” ordered Arnold Baxter, and this was done.
The going down of the wind was only temporary, and now a slight breeze sprang up.
“We are in luck!” said the captain of the schooner.
“We must keep away from the yacht,” returned Arnold Baxter.
Soon the schooner’s sails were filling and she continued on her course, dragging the small boat behind her. Aleck Pop saw the movement and grew much perplexed.
“Dat don’t look right to me, nohow!” he muttered. “’Pears lak da was bein’ tuk along sumway!”
Aleck was not much of a sailor, but he had been out enough to know how to handle the yacht under ordinary circumstances, and now he did his best to follow the Peacock.
With the glass he watched eagerly for the reappearance of Sam and Tom, and his face became a study when fully half an hour passed and they failed to show themselves.
“Da is in trouble, suah!” he told himself. “Now wot’s dis yeah niggah to do?”
He lashed the wheel fast and sought advice from Luke Peterson, who was feeling stronger every minute. The burly lumberman shook his head dubiously.
“In trouble for certain,” was his comment. “Didn’t hear any pistol shots, did ye?”
“Didn’t heah nuffin, sah.”
“They wouldn’t remain on board of that craft of their own free will.”
“Don’t specs da would, sah. De question is, sah: wot’s to do?” And Aleck scratched his woolly head thoughtfully.
“I don’t know, excepting to keep the schooner in sight, if possible, and see if something doesn’t turn up. If you sight a steamer or a steam tug let me know, and I’ll try to get help.”
So it was arranged, and Aleck returned to the wheel. The Swallow was going along smoothly, and he did what he could to make the sails draw as much as possible. Peterson now discovered the medicine chest of the yacht, and from this got another dose of liquor, which afforded him the temporary strength of which he was in so much need.
The coming of night found the two vessels far out upon the waters of Lake Erie and nearly half a mile apart. Peterson now came on deck, to keep an eye on things while Aleck prepared supper. It promised to remain clear, but, as there would be no moon, Peterson was afraid that they would lose sight of the Peacock in the gathering darkness.
Supper was soon served, the lumberman eating first, and then Aleck cleared away the few dishes and tidied up generally. The colored man was much downcast.
“Fust it was Dick, an’ now it am de whole t’ree of ‘em,” he remarked. “I’se afraid dar is gwine ter be a bad endin’ to dis yeah trip.”
“We will have to take what comes,” answered Peterson. “But I have taken a fancy to those boys, and I’ll stick by you to the end.”
Slowly the darkness of night settled over the waters of the lake, and with the going down of the sun the stars came forth, one after another. During the last few hours several sail had been seen at a distance, but none had come close enough to be hailed.
“We are going to lose her in the darkness, after all,” announced the lumberman, at about eight o’clock. “It’s hard for me to see her, even now.”
Half an hour later the Peacock disappeared in the gloom, and the chase, for the time being, came to an end.
CHAPTER X
THE ESCAPE FROM THE HOLD
“Sam, is that you?”
“Yes.”
“We are trapped!”
“It looks like it—or rather feels like it. I can’t see a thing.”
“Nor I. Did you find out anything about Dick?”
“No.”
A groan came from the opposite end of the hold.
“Here I am. How in the world did you get here?”
“Dick, after all!” ejaculated Tom, and there was a slight trace of joy in his tone. “Are you O. K., old man?”
“Hardly. They dosed me with drugs until my mind is topsy-turvy.”
“I’m glad you are alive,” came from Sam. “Where are you?”
“Here, lying on a couple of boxes. Look out how you move about, or you may hurt yourselves.”
Handcuffed as they were, Tom and Sam felt their way along through the dark hold until they reached their elder brother’s side. They grasped his hands warmly.
“I’m glad we are together again, even if we are prisoners,” remarked Tom, and this was his younger brother’s sentiment, too.
“How did you get here?” asked Dick, and each told his story from beginning to end, and then the elder Rover had to relate his own adventures.
“I knew that old doctor wasn’t telling the truth,” burst out Tom. “Oh, but won’t we have an account to settle with all of those chaps, if ever we get out of this scrape.”
“Don’t let us hurrah until we are out of the woods,” added Dick soberly. “We are in the hands of a desperate gang, to my way of reasoning.”
“The Baxters are certainly bad enough.”
“And any boat captain who would go into this game with them is probably just as bad. Whom did you leave on the yacht?”
“Aleck, and the lumberman who was on the raft with you.”
“I wonder if they will follow this schooner?”
No one could answer this question, and for several minutes there was a silence. During that time they heard heavy footsteps cross and recross the deck, but that was all. Presently the schooner began to rock slightly.
“The wind is coming up,” said Tom. “We are moving ahead again.”
“That’s bad for us—if the schooner manages to run away from the yacht,” rejoined Dick.
Soon the motion of the Peacock showed that the schooner was bowling along rapidly. They heard the creaking of tackle as additional sails were hoisted, and felt certain that the craft was making the best run at her command.
The hold had not been opened up for a long time, consequently the air was foul as well as stifling from the heat.
“I’d give something for some fresh air,” said Sam. “How is it with you, Dick?”
&
nbsp; “I want fresh air and a drink of water. I am as dry as a bale of cotton.”
“Haven’t they given you anything since you came on board?” asked Tom.
“Not a thing.”
“The inhuman wretches! Oh, I wish I had Dan Baxter here—I’d punch his head good for him.”
“Ditto the head of his rascally father,” returned Dick. “I would like to know just where they intend to take me—or rather all of us, now. They certainly can’t expect to keep us on board this craft.”
“Perhaps they’ll ship us to Canada.”
“Hardly, since they couldn’t land on the Canadian shore without an inspection of the vessel.”
“They have some plan up their sleeve, that’s certain.”
Slowly the hours wore away, until all sounds on deck ceased, and they knew it must be well along in the night. Still the schooner kept on her course.
All of the boys had been working at their bonds, but without success. They wished they had a light, but neither Sam nor Tom had a match, and Dick’s pockets were entirely bare. Tom and Sam were likewise minus their pistols, Arnold Baxter having taken the weapons away before placing them in the hold.
The night proved to be a truly horrible one for the boys, for the hold was overrun with rats, who became altogether too familiar. At first one of the pests ran over Tom’s legs.
“A rat!” he cried. “Hi, scat!” And the frisky rodent scampered off, but speedily returned, followed by several others. After that they had a lively time of it for half an hour, when the rats left them as suddenly as they had appeared.
The storm, and their various adventures, had tired the boys out, and soon, in spite of the surroundings, one after another fell into a light doze. The sleep did all of them good, especially Dick, who declared on awakening that he felt almost as well as ever.
“Only I’m as hungry as a bear,” he added.
“Ditto myself,” came from Tom. “I move we try to break out of this dingy hole.”
“All right; but where shall we break to?” put in Sam. “I can’t see much more than I could last night.”
The matter was talked over, and presently they scattered, to feel along the ribbed walls of the hold.
For a long time nobody felt anything of importance, but at last Sam let out a soft cry:
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 65