The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XV. GOOD FOR EVIL

  The yacht _Spray_, arriving home again in the harbour of Southport, twodays following the discovery made by Henry Burns, had created somewhat ofa sensation: first, because, on account of the storm, there had been feltconsiderable alarm for the little boat, and, second, because of the storythat the boys had to tell.

  The finding of the letter "E" confirmed their story, so that there couldbe no room for doubt that the yacht _Eagle_ had been secreted there inthe Thoroughfare and refitted. The question now was, had the man who haddone this left the bay and gone on his voyage, or had he chosen, for somepurpose or other, to linger in some part of the great bay till a latertime.

  Henry Burns now told the story of the man they had seen at the foot ofGrand Island, how he had sailed in and out of the harbour somysteriously, how he seemed to avoid them, and how there had apparentlybeen none other than he aboard the black yacht.

  Most of the people of the village were inclined to the belief that theman Chambers had gone out to sea as soon as he had altered his yacht sothat it would escape detection in such harbours as he would be obliged tomake. There was no possible reason why he should return, they said, andevery reason in the world why he should get away from that part of thecoast as soon as he could.

  There were plenty of black yachts, they argued, that would answer thegeneral description of the yacht seen by the boys at the foot of theisland; and, as for sailing out and away in the night, that was a thingcommonly done among fishermen, to take advantage of wind and tide when itwas important that they should reach a certain port on time.

  Still, there were one or two yachts that set out cruising about the bay,on the chance of running into the mysterious craft, and they cruisedabout for a week or more. Every strange sail that looked as though itmight belong to a yacht of the size of the _Eagle_ was pursued, until ithad either outsailed the pursuers and disappeared, or until a nearer viewhad proven that it was not the hunted craft.

  By the end of two weeks the village was well satisfied that Chambers andthe yacht _Eagle_ were far away, and had ceased to think of him, exceptas a group gathered of an evening about the village grocery-store andtalked of that for lack of something better.

  In the meantime, when the excitement was at its height, the Warren boysin their yacht, and Tom and Bob in their canoe, took a hand in thesearch. Even Henry Burns took an occasional spin on his bicycle down tothe foot of the island of an evening, and wandered along the shore in thehope of catching a glimpse once more of the sail he had seen that nightin the harbour. Just what he expected to do in case he should see it, hedid not know, himself; still, it might be that he could spread the alarmand start some of the boats out after any suspicious craft that he saw.

  For the time being it was in all the air. Nobody talked of anything else.It was really more because people dearly love a mystery than that theyactually believed the _Eagle_ was still in the bay; but the talk sufficedto keep the boys at fever-heat, and Henry Burns firmly believed that hehad seen the _Eagle_ that night.

  Tom and Bob were indefatigable for ten days in searching on their ownaccount. They would take their canoe in the afternoon, paddle down fiveor six miles along the shore of the island, land in some lonely spot,haul the canoe on shore, and then continue along on foot for a mile ortwo, coming up cautiously to some cove with which they had becomefamiliar in their trips through the summer, only to find it empty ofsails, or some fishing-boat lying snug for the night, and which could byno means be mistaken for the craft of which they were in search.

  Again, they would paddle down to the Narrows, carry the canoe over intothe western bay, leave it hidden until sundown, and then go down alongthe shore on that side of the island, repeating their walk along theshore. Some days they left the canoe hidden for the night away down theisland, and came back to the village afoot along the road, going after itafoot the next night, and retracing their search of the night before,thus varying the search in a dozen different ways.

  But the result was always the same. It seemed this time as though the_Eagle_, if it had, indeed, ever lingered in the bay, had gone for good.What might have been the result if those who sailed in search of themysterious craft had known that the description they now had of her wasat fault, can never be known. Be that as it might, the exact yacht thatHenry Burns and his friends had seen down at the foot of the island nolonger existed. In its place there sailed--somewhere, on some waters--ahandsome, black yacht, with a tall, slender, glistening topmast, whitesails, and gleaming brass, in place of the dingy, dirty fisherman. Shewas as fine and handsome, and as polished as to deck and fittings, as the_Eagle_ had been of yore, only her colour remained as it had beenchanged--black.

  Was this boat the _Eagle_? Those who sailed the bay in quest of her hadno means of knowing, for if they ever did get sight of her it was but afar, fleeting, shadowy glance. They never came within miles of her, thisfleet, beautiful, and disappearing yacht. Across her stern in letters ofgold was the name _Sprite_. It may have been most appropriate, for nowand then a distant view of her tempted some bay craft to follow; but itwas like a dog pursuing a bird on the wing. She always drifted on and on,out of reach, and disappeared.

  Since the night when the man that rowed Jack Harvey across the bay hadclimbed aboard this yacht and sailed southward, the yacht had neverventured near Grand Island, nor within miles and miles of it. If the manChambers had any plan which he meant to execute, it did not suit hispurpose to attempt it at this time. He had, perhaps, achieved all hedesired now, in familiarizing himself with the waters of this coast.

  Of all those who joined in the search for the strange yacht, there wasnone more enthusiastic nor persistent than Jack Harvey. No sooner had hisown yacht been brought back from Bellport by the crew, than he stocked upwith a week's provisions and began cruising day and night. To be sure, itwas a most uncertain chase, but Harvey was willing to take chances thatothers would not; and if he should by mistake intercept some respectablecraft for a few brief moments, he would rely on his assurance to carryhim through and explain matters.

  Harvey had, moreover, a critical eye for a good boat, and had noted the_Eagle_, when it had been in the harbour, with more than passinginterest, and was certain now that he should know her again, even with achange of rig. Besides, he had the description furnished by Henry Burnsand the other boys of the yacht they had seen, which corresponded in sizewith the _Eagle_.

  He had never been so aroused about anything before in all his life. Theadventure that Henry Burns and the others had had with the two men thathad been caught was an experience after his own heart. He would havegiven his whole summer's fun to take part in that capture. But all theglory of that had been denied him; now he made a resolve that if any onesucceeded in finding the vanished yacht it should be he.

  His activity was not destined to go all for naught, either, for on atleast one occasion he was satisfied in his own mind that he had met withthe yacht,--yes, and nearly come to close quarters with the man thatsailed it.

  It was miles below Grand Island, for Harvey had for some days made up hismind that the man he sought had left the bay, since he had scoured iteast and west and north and south in vain. It was down among some islandsthat lay out of the much travelled part of the bay, and not far from theGull Island Thoroughfare. It was, in fact, just at the outer rim of thebay, where several channels through a chain of islands led out to sea.There were three of the crew aboard besides Harvey, only little Tim beingleft ashore to guard the camp.

  They had been cruising all evening among these islands, for it was a partof the coast with which Harvey was very familiar. They were carrying nolights, for the chances of being run down here were small, and, besides,it was a part of Harvey's plan to be able to approach any chance craftunobserved.

  It had come on rainy, and the crew were for putting in at some harbourand lying snug, but Harvey would not hear of it. He had sailed until nearmidnight for about a week, and did not li
ke to give it up.

  However, as a concession to his crew, and as it bade fair to blow up anasty sea before many hours, Harvey had consented to beat back and forthunder the lee of a small unnamed island, keeping a lookout down the bayfor the little distance they could see through the rain.

  It seemed that some other craft was also willing to take the risk ofsailing without lights, for, along about ten o'clock, a yacht, that mightor might not be the one for which they sought, was beating up toward theisland, with all dark on board. All at once the man that sat at the wheelleft his boat for a moment to itself, so that it headed up into the windwith sails flapping, while he darted down into the cabin.

  He was gone only for a moment, but in that brief moment that he was belowa light flashed in the cabin,--only a fleeting gleam of light, and thenall was dark again.

  This gleam of light, transient as it was, had sufficed, however, for thesharp lookout aboard the _Surprise_.

  Harvey seized Joe Hinman by the shoulder and whispered, as he steered the_Surprise_ out from behind the end of the island: "Did you see that, Joe?Did you see it? There's something coming up. Everybody keep quiet now!"

  There was an excited group that crouched silently in the cockpit of the_Surprise_ as she swung out from under the lee of the island and headedstraight for the spot where they had seen the flash of light, runningalmost before the wind.

  Whatever the craft was, it seemed as if they must surely catch it,leaping out as they had from the darkness. All at once they saw the darkoutline of a yacht almost dead ahead, and saw for a moment the shadow ofits sails, a faint blur through the rain.

  Then the yacht veered about suddenly, and they saw the white crush ofwater as it heeled over, and, running with the wind on its quarter, wasgone, like a boat that had vanished. So sudden and so silent was themanoeuvre that they could hardly realize that the yacht had, indeed,turned like a flash and run away. They followed for a moment, but, seeinghow useless it was, Harvey soon gave up the chase and went back toharbour, beaten but not discouraged.

  "That was the man we want," he said, as they came to in the nearestharbour that night. "No other craft would have gone off its course thatway. And to think we were almost upon him."

  "Yes, but I don't see what good it would have done us to have come upwith him, if it was the man," replied Allan Harding. "We could only havetaken a look aboard. What else could we have done?"

  "I'll tell you what," answered Harvey, emphatically. "It would have donea lot of good. I tell you that wherever and whenever I meet that yacht,whether it's night or day, I'm going to run alongside, and you fellowsand I are going aboard. I've been doing things to be ashamed of longenough,--not that I'm ashamed of them, either, as I know of. Only theyhave been things that I didn't dare tell of afterward, and I'm sort oftired of it. I tell you, I want to do something for once that I can boastof and that people won't hate me for. That's why I'm so anxious aboutthis, if you must know it."

  "Whew!" cried Joe Hinman. "That's something new for you, Jack. I didn'tsuppose your conscience ever troubled you."

  "It don't," said Harvey, angrily.

  But perhaps it did.

  By the end of a few days more, Harvey had given up the search, convincedthat they had seen the last of the black yacht, if, indeed, they had seenit at all.

  "I give up," he said. "I'm beaten, and that's all there is to it."

  And so the idea of ever seeing the strange yacht again was given up byall. The yachts came back to harbour, and the impression became generalthat they had all been fooled; that what they had sought was a delusion.

  Tom and Bob were the last to give up. Partly because they liked theselong paddles together and the long walks along the island roads, andpartly because they had helped start the renewed hunt for the yacht_Eagle_, and did not like to admit that they had made a mistake.

  So they did not wholly discontinue their evening paddles nor their lonelyrambles along the shore. It was good exercise, at all events, theyargued.

  One evening they started right after supper, while it was yet light,paddled down along the shore to the Narrows, carried across, and paddleddown the island for some three miles. Then they landed and hid theircanoe, as was their custom, and stretched themselves out on the beach torest and enjoy the lights far out on the water.

  It was a clear starlight night, with the bay still and restful, save fora quick gust of wind that came now and then, only to blur its surface fora moment and leave it smooth again.

  "I guess we have tried this thing about often enough, haven't we, Bob?"asked Tom, finally. "We don't seem to be a success as man-hunters."

  "I'm about ready to quit," answered Bob, yawning and stretching. "Thefact is, we really get enough exercise through the day. Here we've beenswimming, bicycling, helping the Warrens get up driftwood, paddled overto the cape, all in one day,--and here we are at it again at night. Yes,I think it's time we gave this up."

  "Then supposing we do call it off," said Tom. "I've had paddling enoughfor one day. What do you say to going up along the beach for a mile ortwo, and then taking the shortest cut home and coming down for the canoeto-morrow? I think I'm kind of tired, myself, though I didn't notice itwhen we started out."

  "All right, that suits me," replied Bob. "I don't mind saying that I'm abit tired, too. That last mile came hard, and no mistake."

  So they rose and sauntered along the beach toward the Narrows, till theyhad come to within about half a mile of it, and then sat down once morefor a brief rest before going home.

  "It seems almost too bad to go home to bed such a beautiful night asthis," said Bob. "These are the kind of nights that make me wish we hadthe old tent back again, so we could lie on our bunks and look out on thewater, as we used to do before we went to sleep."

  The night was indeed singularly calm and peaceful. The bay was still, andthe water as it came up the beach with the tide made only a smallrustling, creeping sound, as it covered the sand inch by inch. As for theisland, it always seemed asleep after nightfall, and to-night there wasscarcely a sound of life anywhere to break the stillness.

  But then, all at once, as they sat there looking out upon the water, outof the silence there arose a cry, faint and smothered, but a cry forhelp.

  Then all was still again.

  They sprang to their feet, startled, almost frightened for a brief momentat the strange cry, coming from they knew not where.

  Again the cry came, this time more distinctly, from somewhere out on thewater. They heard the words, "Help! Help!" uttered in a choking voice, asof a man drowning.

  The boys rushed down to the water's edge and peered out over the bay,straining their eyes to see whence the sound came.

  "Hulloa! Hulloa! Where are you? What's the matter? Call again!" criedTom.

  They listened, and in a moment the voice came again weirdly over thewater, though they could not distinguish this time the words.

  "Why, there it is," cried Bob, all at once, pointing as he spoke. "Don'tyou see it, Tom? I declare, but it's queer we didn't see it before. Look,there's something floating only about an eighth of a mile out,--andthere's something moving a little distance from it. Why, Tom, I'll tellyou what it is. It's a canoe--it's Jack Harvey--and he's upset--he'sdrowning. Just look, where I am pointing."

  "Yes, I see," exclaimed Tom, excitedly. "I just saw a splash. He's upset,sure enough, and struggling. I say, Bob, we've got to swim out. Our canoeis too far. Keep up! We're coming!" he called, and began hurriedly tostrip off his clothing.

  In a moment the two boys were in the water, striking out wildly towardthe object that seemed to be a canoe floating in the water.

  "Hold on there, Bob," cried Tom, presently. "We mustn't try to be toofast. We'll only waste our strength. We'll need it all when we get there.Let's calm down, now, and not get excited. We've got to keep our heads."

  Then, as they surged ahead, with long, powerful strokes, the voice againcame, calling chokingly for help. There could be no mistaking it now. Itwas Jack Harvey.
/>   "Quick!" he cried, "quick! I can't hold on long. I'm hurt."

  They quickened their strokes, and in a moment more came in plain sight ofHarvey, struggling feebly to keep above water.

  "Hold on for a moment, Jack," said Tom, as they came up to him. "Don'tgrab us, now. Let us do the work. You just keep on paddling, what youcan, and we'll save you."

  "I won't grab you," gasped Harvey. "Just get on each side of me and letme put my hands on your shoulders for a moment, till I get my strengthback. I've swallowed a lot of water."

  The two swam up close, and Harvey reached up and rested a hand on eachshoulder.

  "Swim for the canoe now," said Tom. "We'll let him get hold of the end ofthat and cling on for a few moments till he gets his breath. He'll be allright, I think."

  Reaching the overturned canoe, they helped him to clasp one end of it,and then supported him there, as they began to push it toward shore byswimming with their feet and with a single hand each.

  For a few moments Harvey managed to hold on, but then his strength seemedto fail him and his hands slipped their hold.

  "I can't hold on," he gasped. "Something's hurting me."

  "Then lie over on your back and float," said Tom. "Just lie still andwe'll swim you in."

  Harvey groaned at the effort it cost him, but did as he was told, andthey left the canoe and struck out with him for the shore.

  It was not such a long swim that they had before them, but they hadexhausted their strength more than they knew in their excitement, andHarvey was well-nigh helpless.

  Before they had swum a rod farther, their breath began to come hard andtheir shoulders ached until it seemed as though they would crack.

  Still they kept on.

  "We'll make it all right, Tom?" said Bob, finally, panting the words out.

  "We've got to," said Tom. "We're bound to do it. Let's swim on our backsfor a spell. Jack, we're going to change the stroke. Don't get scared.We're going to stick by you."

  The words seemed to rouse Harvey, who had apparently almost lostconsciousness.

  "Let me go," he gasped, faintly. "Let me go, I say. I don't want youfellows to drown, too. Let me----"

  And then he seemed suddenly to lose control of himself, and clutchedfrantically at them, with the frenzy of a drowning man.

  They struck themselves loose from him, and he sank under water, but cameto the surface again, exhausted and helpless. Tom seized him then by thehair. He lay motionless, as though dead, and they took hold once more andstruck out again for the shore.

  When they had reached it--they scarcely knew how--and felt the sand againunder their feet, they had barely strength enough to drag Harvey a littleways out of the water, and lay by his side on the beach, groaning withevery breath they drew.

  This was from sheer exhaustion, caused by exerting themselves far beyondtheir natural strength. They were not strangled with swallowing water, sothat after they had lain there flat on the beach for some five minutesthey had regained their strength sufficiently to be able to arise andlift the half-unconscious Harvey completely out of the water and carryhim up on the bank. Then they sat down and rested once more, sitting byHarvey's side and chafing his hands. They lifted him up, although theeffort cost them all their strength, held him head downwards for a momentto get the water out of him, then doubled his arms upon his breast andextended them, over and over again, alternately, as they had learned wasthe way to restore a man rescued from drowning.

  Harvey, who had never fully lost consciousness, revived under theirtreatment, till at length they perceived that he was out of danger, andneeded now as quickly as possible warmth and shelter.

  There was no house near by, and it was clear that whatever was done forHarvey must be done by them.

  "We can't carry him, that's certain," said Bob, finally. "We've got toget our canoe and paddle him up as far as the Narrows in that. Then wecan get his crew over, and we can all carry him up to their camp."

  So Bob set out on a weary trot down along the shore to where they hadhidden their canoe. Tom waited by Harvey, trying to keep him warm, or,rather, to restore warmth to him, by rubbing; but Harvey was chilledthrough and through and shivered pitifully. It was fully an hour, andseemed ten to Tom, before Bob appeared in sight again.

  They lifted Harvey into the canoe and set out for the Narrows. Poor Bobwas well-nigh exhausted, and it was Tom who did about all the paddling.They reached the Narrows, however, after what seemed an endless journey,driving their paddles through the water with arms that almost refused toobey the wills that forced them to work.

  When they had reached the Narrows, Tom set out for Harvey's camp, leavingBob to wait with Harvey. Tom had not gone more than half a mile, however,when he ran into the entire crew, who had become alarmed at Harvey's longabsence, knowing that he had gone out in the canoe, and had started outin search of him.

  Tom's white face, pallid with weariness, filled them with terror, as herushed up to them and sank down on a knoll, breathless.

  "Why, it's Tom Harris," exclaimed Joe Hinman. "For Heaven's sake, what isit? Did you see Jack? Is he drowned?"

  He rattled off the questions excitedly, before Tom could find breath toanswer.

  "He's all right, I guess," Tom said, in a moment. "He isn't drowned. He'sover there the other side of the Narrows; Bob's with him. He is most deadwith cold, though. You better get him over to camp quick or he will die."

  They were off like mad, on the run for the Narrows, before he hadfinished.

  Tom waited to rest a few moments more, and then set off slowly forHarvey's camp. "There's enough of them to bring him," he said. "I guessBob and I have done about all we can to-night."

  When he had reached Harvey's camp, however, he waited only to rest andwarm himself by the brands of a fire which the campers had left, beforehe began to make what preparations he could to receive the boys when theyshould return with Harvey.

  There was a big pile of wood at hand, and he started the fire up afresh,after having first pushed the brands nearer the tent, so that the firewould send a comforting warmth inside. Then he brought out a pair ofblankets and put them near the fire to warm through. He hung a kettle ofwater on the stick provided for it, and rummaged through the campers'stock for the coffee.

  Presently the sound of voices told him that the crew were at hand.Stepping to the door of the tent, he saw the strange group approaching.They had not taken Harvey from the canoe, but had let him lie there,while they lifted the canoe and carried it along, two boys at either end,bearing the weight with a stick stretched underneath to support it.Alongside plodded Bob, holding to the gunwale, to assist in steadying it.They approached and set the canoe down, just outside the tent door.

  "Get his clothes off quick, now," cried Tom. "I have the hot blanketsready to wrap him in, and some coffee when he is able to take it."

  In a twinkling Harvey was stripped and rolled snugly in the blankets,while Tom busied himself in rushing up with cloths heated hot, andapplying them to the soles of his feet. After a time he lifted Harvey upand poured a few spoonfuls of the coffee down his throat. This seemed torevive Harvey, for he opened his eyes, muttered something that wasunintelligible, and sank back to sleep.

  "He's all right now," said Tom, passing his hand over Harvey. "He isgetting warm again. He'll be all right now when he gets his sleep out."

  Tom and Bob were thoroughly tired. They lay stretched out before the fireon blankets for a time, too weary to more than barely reply to thequestions of the crew as to the mishap that had befallen Harvey.

  Presently Tom rose up and said: "Well, Bob, it's late, and we've got tobe getting started or we'll never get back to the cottage."

  "We shall be down again to-morrow to see how Harvey is," he added,turning to the crew, who sat a little apart, somewhat abashed by the turnof affairs and the consciousness of the debt of gratitude they now owedto the boys whom they had wronged. "We'll send a doctor down if you wantus to, but I don't think there's any need of it. He'll be all right bymornin
g. Good night."

  They were about taking their departure when Harvey struggled for a momentwith the clothing that enveloped him, lifted his head slightly from theground, and said, weakly, "Hold on."

  "What is it?" asked Tom, as they stepped inside the tent again and satdown beside him.

  "Don't go," said Harvey, huskily. "Please don't go. I want you to stayhere to-night,--that is, if you will. I've--I've got something--somethingto say to you in the morning. I can't say it now. I'm too weak. But Iwant the crew to hear it in the morning."

  Tom and Bob looked at each other in astonishment. Then they nodded, andTom replied to Harvey:

  "All right, Jack. We'll stay. Go to sleep now. You're all right."

  The crew quickly spread some boughs for them, and brought more blanketsfrom the yacht.

  "Tom," said Bob, as they stood alone for a moment, while the crew werebusily engaged, "it looks like our revenge."

  And then, before they had the blankets half-wrapped about them, they weresinking off to sleep,--to sleep in Harvey's camp, alongside Harvey'screw.