CHAPTER XXII
A STERN LOOMS UP IN THE FOG
Joe Dawson, at the wheel of the power tender, bent grimly over thecompass.
There was little need for him to look about him, anyway, since it wasnot possible to see anything distinctly at a greater distance than threeboat-lengths away.
Almost immediately the "Panther" dropped back out of view. The big motoryacht was now to go along only at her slow cruising speed, but thelaunch was to make greater haste.
Tom Halstead had taken his post well up in the bow of the rolling littlecraft. He was listening intently for any betraying sounds ahead intheir course.
"This is hardly a big enough boat for a sea like this," grumbled Mr.Jephson, who had taken up his post close to the young captain.
"The sea _is_ a good deal on the roll to-day," Halstead assented,briefly.
"Why, this little craft acts as though she'd turn over and dump us allin the ocean," muttered the assistant district attorney, uneasily.
"The crowd we have aboard makes her sit lower than usual in the water,"Tom explained.
"Is there any _real_ danger of our tipping over, Captain?" insisted Mr.Jephson.
"Why, it might happen, of course, sir."
"Do you think it is _going_ to happen?" demanded Mr. Jephson, anxiously.
There are many men, brave enough elsewhere, who are cowards on a heavysea with only a small boat between themselves and the water. Back on the"Panther" the district attorney's representative had felt no sense ofdanger.
"Why, I don't know whether the boat is going to heel over, or not," Tomreplied. "You are right in supposing that it isn't quite a large enoughcraft for the job in hand, but it was the only thing we had."
"I can't swim, but I'll try to keep my nerve," grimaced Mr. Jephson.
Whatever the others thought of their chances of being pitched into theocean, none of them said anything.
Halstead looked back, presently, to inquire:
"Mr. Prentiss, can't you deaden the noise of our exhaust still more?"
"I'm trying to," replied the young assistant engineer. "Think I'm goingto succeed, too."
After a few moments the tender ran along all but noiselessly. Though theexhaust still gave forth some little sound, it was wholly likely thatthis reduced noise would not be heard above the machinery running on the"Victor" if the expedition in the tender should be so fortunate as tocatch up with the steam yacht.
The twelve men sat huddled there in the cramped space, trying to blindtheir minds to the danger of capsizing in the rolling sea. For more thanhalf an hour the tender ran ahead at nearly its best speed, ere TomHalstead called back:
"Joe, take my signals. I think we're getting in closer--to something!"
Eagerly all bent forward to listen. After a minute or two more it seemedto them that they really could hear, faintly, the rather distant soundof the moving machinery of some steam craft. Yet this noise, none toodistinct, was muffled still more by the ceaseless wash of the rollingsea, whose waves broke in white crests everywhere about them.
Halstead, whose ears were perhaps the keenest on board, listened andoccasionally signaled for the launch to be veered a little either toport or starboard.
Surely, they were creeping up on something that ran by machinery, thoughthrough the curtain of white no eye could make out the form of a vessel.
Somewhere, away to starboard, a great, deep note boomed out.
"That's some big vessel, like a liner," Tom whispered to Jephson. Then,from away off to port sounded the tolling bell of a sailing vessel. Bothappeared to be headed toward the "Panther" launch.
"They seem to be about half a mile apart," Halstead whispered. "The'Victor,' I think, will pass between the two craft. While that deepwhistle and solemn bell are going the people on the steam yacht are notso likely to hear us. Pass the word to Mr. Prentiss to increase speed alittle, if he can do so without making more noise at the exhaust."
A little faster spurted the power tender, and a little worse became thetossing in that rolling sea. All the members of the party were indrenched clothing by this time. The water came aboard faster under thisburst of speed; the two seamen began to bail it out.
"If I ever get out of this boat alive, large yachts will be small enoughfor me in the future," Mr. Jephson told himself, nervously.
Tom Halstead was paying no heed to the incoming water. That was Joe'saffair, since Joe Dawson was handling the craft.
"Pass the word to Jed to watch for signals from me," whispered TomHalstead, tensely, a few minutes later.
"Then you think----" began the district attorney's assistant eagerly.
"Pass the word for me, please," Tom broke in.
In the gray fog ahead some craft was moving by steam power. Those in thelaunch could now hear the regular thump-thump, soft though it was, ofmachinery ahead.
Yet, to most of the silent watchers it came as something of a shockwhen, out of the mist ahead, there suddenly loomed, indistinctly, thestern of a hull.
Away to starboard sounded the deep whistle of the big steamship, whileover to port the bell of that sailing vessel tolled. The noise enabledHalstead to creep in more closely with less dread of being discoveredtoo soon.
A moment's breathlessness, then "Victor--San Francisco" stood out boldlybefore the eyes of the people in the launch as that boat shot in by theyacht's stern.
They were taking grave chances, now, of being swamped at the very doorof success. None knew this better than Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson asthey jointly manoeuvred to run the tender up stealthily, while JedPrentiss, trembling inwardly, kept his hand on the lever, ready to obeythe slightest signal for speed.
Then, swiftly, Tom Halstead, a rifle strapped over his back, rose in thebow. In one hand he held a line to the other end of which was attached agrappling hook.
With a practiced eye and hand he measured the distance, poising the coilfor a throw. Just as the tender stole in closer he made the throw.
All hands watched breathlessly for a second or two. Then, as straightand true as a well-aimed bullet, the grappling hook fell and caught atthe "Victor's" stern rail.
Not an instant did the young motor boat skipper lose. There was no timeto inquire whether someone else wanted to go first. Tom Halstead seizedthe tautening line with both hands, and began to climb as only a sailor_can_ go up a rope.
His head quickly appeared above the steam yacht's stern rail. TomHalstead slipped onto the deck just in time to see two men walkingslowly aft. One of them was in uniform--perhaps he was the captain ofthe steam yacht. But the other, in civilian dress, the young motor yachtcaptain knew instantly from the description of him which he had heard.
"Frank Rollings, the absconding cashier!" flashed through Tom's mind.
The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog Page 22
