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

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER VIII

  MAROONED

  With Ned to attend to the engine, to see that it got the right amountof oil, and, occasionally, to adjust the carburetor, and Jerry at thewheel, guiding the craft, the _Eel_ darted up the river. Every eye wason the alert to catch the first glimpse of the boat which they werepursuing.

  “Think he can have gotten much ahead of you?” asked Mr. Nestor, after apause.

  “Well, he had quite a start,” observed Ned.

  “And our boat can go some, if she’s handled rightly,” added Jerry.

  “The fastest on the river--in her class,” added Bob, proudly. “But thisis likely to be a long chase. I wish----”

  Bob paused, but Ned, with a chuckle, said:

  “I know what Chunky was thinking of.”

  “What?” asked the stout lad, defiantly.

  “That we should have brought a lunch along! Am I right?”

  “Well, if we’re going to be out half the night we’ll need it,” declaredBob, in self-defense.

  “We won’t be out all night if we once get sight of Noddy,” declaredJerry, with conviction. “As soon as he sees us after him he’ll givein--he’s that kind!”

  The _Eel_ was making good progress, and Jerry knew he could depend onNed to get more speed out of her when needed. But as yet they had seenno signs of their own boat.

  On up the river they swept, the searchlight throwing out a brilliantgleam, and bringing into bold relief the trees and bushes along theshore. Bob had joined Jerry in the bow, while Ned was at the motor, andthe two men and Andy Rush occupied one of the rear seats. Suddenly thestout lad uttered a cry:

  “There’s something dead ahead!” Those in the boat thrilled at hiswords, but a damper was soon put on their enthusiasm when Jerry said:

  “False alarm. That’s only a log of wood. It’s a good thing you saw it,though, for we might have rammed it, and, going as fast as we are, wemight have stove a hole in the hull. All right, Chunky!”

  Once more there was silence, broken only by the chug of the motor, andthe slight squeak as the steering rope passed over the pulleys andaround the drum.

  “There’s the Riverview club house!” remarked Ned, in a low voice, asthey made a turn in the stream and saw a lighted building ahead ofthem.

  “We’ll stop there and inquire,” decided Jerry, and a little laterthey tied up at the dock. As members of the Cresville club our heroeshad visiting privileges at the other organization, and they were madewelcome.

  “No, we haven’t seen anything of your boat,” said several lads whomJerry and his chums knew well. A number of the older members, who hadbeen sitting on the dock enjoying their cigars, said the same thing,for the _Dartaway_ was well known as one of the finest craft on thestream.

  “Maybe he went down with the current,” suggested Lloyd Berger, thepresident of the organization.

  “If he did we’ve had this much of the chase for nothing,” said Jerry,regretfully. “And yet----”

  “Excuse me,” put in one of the boatmen hired by the club, “but could itbe that fellow who took your launch would be running without lights?”

  “He might!” cried Ned, eagerly. “Why?”

  “Because, a little while ago,” said the man; “I saw some sort of acraft go up the river, away on the other side. She didn’t show a gleam,and it was so dark that the only way I glimpsed her was when she camein range with our signal lamp on the post,” and he pointed to a lanternset to guide craft to the club float. “At first I thought it might besome fishermen in a big rowboat,” the man went on; “for I didn’t hearany motor, but when I got that view of her I saw it was built differentfrom a small craft. Yet there wasn’t any noise.”

  “The _Dartaway_ runs as quietly as a sewing machine at some speeds,”said Jerry. “If that was Noddy he must have slowed down purposely onpassing here.”

  “And I’d be willing to put up a sugar cookie against a cent that it washim!” exclaimed Bob.

  “Don’t, Chunky, you might lose, and then you’d be hungry,” laughed Ned.“But it does look suspicious.”

  “Come on then!” cried the tall lad. “We’ll keep up stream for a while!”

  Once again they were on their way, cutting through the black water,illuminated by the gleams of their lamps and the searchlight.

  They had gone perhaps four miles above the Riverview club house when,as they shot around a bend in the stream, little Andy Rush, sittingbeside Jerry, sprang up, grasped the arm of the steersman, and criedout:

  “There he is! I see your boat! Go to it--catch him--ram him--run himdown! Whoop! See where the searchlight reflects on the stern of thatboat!” and he pointed ahead.

  Jerry, who was steering with one hand, and manipulating the searchlightwith the other, swung the gleaming shaft of brilliancy so that it tookin the craft ahead. Then he gave a shout of delight.

  “That’s our boat!” he yelled. “Now for the end of the chase! Give herall she’ll stand, Ned!”

  Immediately all was excitement aboard the _Eel_. Mr. Brill gave awhoop, which Jim Nestor echoed, and then the man who had hidden thesixty golden nuggets drew something from his pocket with a flourish,and asked:

  “Shall I plug a hole in her below the water line, boys, and make himstop to bail?”

  “Here! Put up that shooting iron!” cried Jim. “Where do you think youare--on the border, or down in Arizona? These Eastern folks don’t dothings that way!”

  “More’s the pity!” exclaimed the miner. “But I could plug him as easyas not,” and he sighed regretfully, for the boat ahead offered asplendid mark.

  “Yes, and you’d sink our craft if you did any ‘plugging,’” said Jerry.“Never mind, we’ll catch him, for he won’t know how to get the bestspeed out of the _Dartaway_.”

  “There’s no one in her!” cried Ned, as in response to the furthersupply of gasoline he fed to the motor, at the same time advancing herspark, the _Eel_ crept up on the other boat. “They’ve abandoned her,Jerry!”

  “No, she’s being steered,” declared the tall lad, who had observed thattheir craft kept on a straight course. “They’re hiding down in thecockpit,” he added. “They’re afraid!”

  “And they’d better be!” murmured Bob.

  “They’re drawing away from us,” said Ned regretfully, after a fewmoments.

  “Can you give us any more speed?” asked Jerry, in a low voice; for he,too, had noticed that their craft was increasing the distance betweenthem.

  “I’ll try,” answered Ned, and he once more adjusted the carburetor.The result was at once apparent, for the _Eel_ shot ahead at increasedspeed.

  “We’re creeping up on them!” cried Andy, a minute later.

  “No, they’re slowing down!” exclaimed Jerry. “I thought so. They’remonkeying with the motor, and they’ve got it adjusted wrong. We’ll getto ’em now! Hold her so, Ned!”

  Ned nodded without speaking, and the _Eel_ kept up her fast motion. Nowsome commotion could be noted aboard the _Dartaway_, and Jerry criedout:

  “Hold on there, Noddy Nixon! Come back with that boat, if you knowwhat’s good for you!”

  “Let’s see you catch us!” fired back the bully, while Bill Berry added:

  “We’ll sink your craft if you don’t keep back!”

  “We’re coming on!” declared Jerry, defiantly, not at all alarmed by thethreat. It was evident that both Bill and Noddy were doing their bestto get more speed out of the _Dartaway_, but without success. Had ourheroes been aboard her, they could have done it, as they knew everybolt and lever. But the boat seemed to realize that she was in thehands of enemies, and refused to do her best.

  Slowly the better-managed _Eel_ crept up, until, when they came to anarrow stretch of the river, Andy Rush cried:

  “They’re going to run her ashore!”

  “That’s right!” added Bob, as in the gleam of the search light they sawtheir craft headed for the bank.

  “They’re giving up!” was Jerry’s opinion, and so it proved
. A littlelater the “chug-chug!” of the _Dartaway’s_ engine ceased. She swung upalongside a little point of land that jutted out into the stream, twofigures leaped out, splashed into the water and then, running alongshore, vanished in the woods.

  “There they go!” cried Jim Nestor.

  “After ’em!” yelled his partner.

  “Let ’em go,” advised Jerry. “We’ve got our boat back. I want to see ifthey’ve damaged her.”

  But aside from tools and other things being scattered carelessly aboutthe craft, no great harm had been done, which fact was soon ascertainedas the _Eel_ came alongside. The _Dartaway_ had been rammed into a mudbank, however, and the _Eel_ had to pull her off. Then, with Ned andBob to run her, she was headed down stream and, convoyed by the _Eel_she soon came in sight of the club house where the lads had firststopped.

  “Let’s get out here,” suggested Bob, as they neared the lighted dock.

  “What for--to eat?” asked Ned.

  “No--to telephone home that we’re all right,” said the stout ladquickly. “Of course,” he added, “if they invite us to have lunch,it--er--well, it wouldn’t be polite to refuse; would it?”

  “Of course not, you old human refrigerator!” cried Ned, with a laugh.“Hi, Jerry!” he called. “Ten minutes for refreshments!”

  Jerry, who was ahead with the _Dartaway_, laughed and understood.They were soon in the club house again, being congratulated on theirsuccess. They were invited to have something to eat, much to Bob’sdelight, and they accepted, after telephoning home that the chase hadended successfully.

  A little later they were under way again, and had tied their boat attheir own boathouse, returning the _Eel_ to Mr. Wood.

  “And what became of Noddy?” asked that gentleman.

  “He disappeared in the woods,” said Jerry. “It’ll be a long walk back,and it serves him right.”

  They could see no reason why the bully should want to take their boat,except to annoy them, though Jerry had a suspicion that Noddy intendedto hide it somewhere to get even for the fancied injury concerning thefalse alarm about the gold. But they never learned definitely.

  “Well, I guess we’ll adjourn for the night,” suggested Jerry, when theywere back in Cresville, and found that their parents had gone to theirseveral homes after the conference. At their own houses the boys weretold that the matter of preparing the necessary papers about the minewould soon be under way, and then they could start for the border, tosearch for the hidden nuggets of gold.

  “Well, how about a motor boat ride to-day?” asked Jerry, of his chumsone afternoon, about a week later. “We promised Jim and his partner toshow them what the _Dartaway_ could do,” he added.

  “Then let’s do it,” suggested Ned. “We can take a good run up or downthe river before dinner.”

  “Oh--yes--dinner!” put in Bob. Then he stopped suddenly. “But I’mwilling. Only I say let’s go down stream. There’s a better view, and wewere up the river the other night,” he added.

  So it was arranged, and soon the two Westerners were in the fine_Dartaway_, which was speeded to her limit down the river.

  “This sure is some boat!” exclaimed Mr. Brill in admiration, as helooked at the little cabin, and at the various appointments.

  “If we could only take it out West with us,” sighed Ned. “But it’squite a job to pack it.”

  “And there isn’t much water out where we’re going,” said theprospector. “Flathead Lake is about the biggest.”

  “Flathead!” exclaimed Bob. “Is that where the Flathead Indians are?”

  “Well, it might have been named after them,” admitted Mr. Brill.“Though I guess there aren’t any Flatheads there now. But there aresome Blackfeet on their reservation, not so very far away.”

  “Blackfeet Indians! Whoop!” yelled Bob. “Say, we’ll have some sport allright.”

  “Not with them,” declared Jerry, decidedly. “This is no Wild West showwe’re going on. We’re out for business--we’ve got to get those sixtynuggets.”

  “And it won’t be any easy job--with those grub-stakers after ’em,”murmured Harvey Brill.

  “Keep still!” whispered Jim. “These boys are as game as they make ’em,but there’s no use crossing a bridge before the cows come home, orwhatever that motto is.”

  “All right,” agreed the prospector. “I’m wise. But say--this is apretty spot all right.”

  “We often camp on that island for a day or so,” spoke Ned, pointing toa large one in the middle of the river, which, at this point was aboutthree miles wide, but not very deep.

  “If we had any grub along we could camp now,” said Bob. “There’s ashack there; and----”

  He got no farther, for at that instant, with a sort of apologeticcough, the motor stopped and the boat began to drift toward the island.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Ned. “Run out of gasoline?”

  “It can’t be that,” declared Jerry, with a puzzled look. “I filled thetank before we started.”

  “Something’s wrong,” declared Bob.

  “Evidently,” agreed Jerry, as he began to go over the motor, while Nedsteered the drifting boat toward the island.

  Try as he might, Jerry could not get the engine started again, and theywere forced to come to a stop at a small dock which the boys had madeto accommodate their craft when they camped on the island. Then, as theafternoon waned, Jerry and his chums did everything they could think ofto get going again, but it was of no use.

  “We’re marooned!” exclaimed Bob, gloomily, as he looked across to themainland through the gathering shadows. “Marooned on the island, andnot a bite to eat!”