The Motor Boys on the Border; Or, Sixty Nuggets of Gold

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER VII

  A NIGHT CHASE

  “Who’s that?” cried Jim Nestor.

  “The rapid-fire chap!” exclaimed his partner.

  “That’s right--It’s Andy Rush,” declared Bob.

  “Don’t stop to talk, Chunky!” fairly shouted Jerry, giving his stoutchum the nickname sometimes applied to him. “Get a move on! If NoddyNixon is trying some more of his tricks we’ll stop him short.”

  “That’s what!” cried Jim Nestor.

  “I’m with you,” added Harvey Brill.

  By this time Jerry had reached the hall and caught up his hat. Hisexample was followed by his chums and the two Westerners. As for Mr.Baker and Mr. Slade they sat back helplessly in their chairs.

  Mrs. Hopkins looked alarmed at first, and then with a resigned air said:

  “Oh, well, there’s no use worrying. Noddy and the boys are having oneof their periodical outbreaks.”

  “That young scamp ought to be sent out of the country,” declared Mr.Baker.

  Meanwhile Jerry and his chums had reached the porch, where they foundAndy Rush awaiting them.

  “When did it happen?” demanded Bob.

  “Did you see him?” inquired Ned.

  “Where did he go with our boat?” came from Jerry.

  “Up the river!” panted the small chap, still breathing hard from hisrunning and shouting. “I happened to come past the dock--I saw someonedown there--it was dark--couldn’t make out who it was--thought itwas you fellows--I yelled--wanted a ride--no answer--thought thatwas funny--ran down--just in time to see Noddy and Bill Berry startoff--wow!”

  “What did you do?” asked Ned.

  “Told Noddy he’d better not take your boat--said I’d tell you.”

  “What did he say?” Bob asked.

  “Just laughed and put on more power. Better hurry, if you want to catchhim!”

  “Of course we do!” asserted Ned; “but how can we if he has our boat, agood start and is heading up stream? We’d better tell the police----”

  “Police nothing!” snapped Jerry Hopkins. “We’ll attend to this caseourselves!”

  “That’s the way to talk!” exclaimed Mr. Nestor. “And when we get holdof that Noddy Nixon we’ll make him walk Spanish!”

  “But it’s dark,” objected Bob. “We can’t see him, and besides, we haveno other boat!”

  “Come on!” cried Jerry shortly, as he raced toward the street. “Nevermind the dark--we can get a lantern.”

  “But a boat?” asked Ned.

  “Down at the club house!” said Jerry, tersely. “We’ll borrow one of thecraft--I guess they won’t mind. We’ve got to get our boat!”

  “I’m on!” yelled Ned, as he raced beside his chum and Andy Rush, Bob,being heavier, brought up the rear with the two men, who were not usedto running. However, all made fair time.

  Jerry led the way toward the river. The motor boys had their ownprivate boathouse, where their craft, the _Dartaway_, was kept. Thiswas not their original motor boat of that name, for their first boathad met an untimely fate in a wreck, as my old readers know. But thelads had kept the name, and had bestowed it on a much larger and finerboat which they now owned.

  “What do you suppose he took our boat for?” asked Ned of Andy, as theyraced on.

  “Just to be mean,” declared the small chap.

  “His own was probably out of commission,” put in Jerry. “It usually is,and I guess he wanted a ride, so he took ours.”

  “He may damage it,” came from Ned.

  “It would be just like him to,” asserted Andy. “He doesn’t care wherehe runs with a boat or an auto.”

  “No, nor an airship either,” said Jerry. For Noddy, following theexample of the motor boys, had managed to acquire a craft of the air,as well as one that skimmed over the water. He also owned an automobile.

  “Think there’ll be any boats at the club house?” asked Ned, as theyneared the river.

  “There usually are at this time in the evening,” said Jerry. “We’llconfiscate one if we have to.”

  During the past year the Cresville Athletic Club, to which our heroesbelonged, had branched out into aquatics, and had built a fineboathouse on the river for the use of such of its members as had motorboats. As Jerry said, there were usually one or more such craft at thedock these Spring evenings.

  It was now quite dark, for dinner, at which had been talked overthe plan for getting the sixty nuggets of gold, had been somewhatprotracted, and night had fallen when Andy Rush made his startlingannouncement.

  “There are two boats!” cried Ned, as he and Jerry, in the lead, came insight of the club house.

  “Yes, one is Mr. Wakefield’s _Iris_,” said Jerry, who knew every boatin the club. “And the other is Mr. Wood’s _Eel_.”

  “Which one’ll you take?”

  “The _Eel_, I guess. She’s faster, though not so easy to handle. Pilein! Do you see anything of him?”

  “Yes, there he is, just going up to the reading room,” spoke Ned, forthere was a separate building from the boathouse where the club memberscould read, or get a light lunch. “Shall I call to him?”

  “No, just run up and explain things to him,” suggested Jerry. “I’ll begetting his boat in shape for the chase. I’ll have to light the lampsand see if there’s gas enough. Andy and Bob will help me. We’ll beready to start when you come back. I know Mr. Wood will let us take the_Eel_.”

  Ned raced off to catch the club member, and quickly explained whatwas wanted. Mr. Wood was an enthusiastic motorist, and had taken aninterest in our heroes ever since they rode their first bicycle raceunder the club auspices, and had won motorcycles.

  “Take my boat?” he cried. “Of course you may! She’s full of gasolineand all ready for a fast run. Go as far as you like! That Noddy Nixonagain; eh? You fellows will have to teach him a lesson!”

  “We have, but it doesn’t seem to do much good,” complained Ned, as heturned back to rejoin Jerry, who was busy getting the _Eel_ in shapefor the pursuit.

  By this time Mr. Nestor and his partner, together with Bob, had caughtup with the others. Andy was helping Jerry light the port, starboardand stern lights, as well as the white one in the bow.

  “What’s up?” demanded Mr. Nestor.

  “Going to start the stamp-mill going?” asked his friend.

  “We’re going to catch the fellow that has our boat!” explained Jerry.“Get aboard.”

  They got into the _Eel_, several club members coming down to the dockto learn the cause of the excitement.

  “I hope you catch him!” exclaimed Mr. Wakefield, the club’s athleticinstructor. He had no love for Noddy Nixon.

  With Jerry at the helm, Ned cranked up, spinning the flywheel over.At the first try the _Eel_ responded, and, with a series of powerfulexplosions in the cylinders, started away from the dock. Jerry headedup stream, in the direction Andy said Noddy had gone.

  “Though he may have turned around again and steered for the lake,” saidNed. “Better go a bit slow, Jerry, until you get some trace of him.”

  “I will. I’ll light the search lamp, too, and we may be able to pickhim up when quite a way off. We’ll stop at the next club house toinquire if he passed.” For there was another boating association aboutfive miles up the stream.

  The search light sent out an intense white gleam over the dark watersof the river as the night chase was begun. The _Eel_ glided ahead notunlike her namesake, and the motor boys, and their friends, with eagereyes, looked forward for the first glimpse of the bully who had theircraft.

  “This is some traveling!” exclaimed Jim Nestor admiringly, as the speedincreased.

  “It sure is,” agreed his partner. “It beats a pack mule or a burro!”

  “Wait until you ride in _our_ boat,” said Ned, with proper pride.“We’ll take you on a little trip before we start for the border.”