CHAPTER XII
JACK FORMS A PLOT
The next morning Jack lost no time in making his way toward HankHandcraft's tumble-down abode. He found its owner in, and likewisedisposed to be quarrelsome.
"'Oh, here you are at last!" exclaimed the hairy and unkempt outcast,as the bully approached heavily through the yielding sand. "I'd aboutgiven you up, and was seriously contemplating making a visit to yourhome--"
"If you ever did," breathed Jack threateningly.
"Well," grinned Hank impudently, with his most malicious chuckle, "if Idid, what then?"
"I'd have you thrown out of the house," calmly replied Jack, seatinghimself on a big log of driftwood, once the rib of a schooner that wentashore on the dangerous shoals off Hampton and pounded herself topieces.
"Oh, no; you wouldn't have me thrown out!" chuckled Hank, resuming histask of scaling a mackerel. "Cause if you did, I'd go to the chief ofpolice and tell him something about the robbery of the armory and thecracking of old man Hudgins' safe."
"You wouldn't dare to do that!" sneered Jack. "You are implicated inthat as badly as we are."
"That's a matter of opinion," rejoined Hank, industriously scrapingaway at his fish, and showing no trace of any emotion in his pale eyes."Anyhow, what I want right now is some cash. You agreed to pay me wellfor what I did the other night, and I haven't seen the money yet."
"Be a little patient, can't you?" irritably retorted the other. "Moneydoesn't grow on trees. Now listen, Hank. How would you like to get anice little sum of money--more than I could give you--for camping outon Kidd's Island, in the Upper Inlet, for a few days?"
Hank's fishy eyes showed some trace of feeling at this.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Is this a new joke you're putting up onme?"
"No, I am perfectly serious. You can make a good sum by following ourdirections, and I'll see that you get into no trouble over it."
"Well, if you can do that, I'll keep my mouth shut," chuckled Hank inhis mirthless way; "but if I don't get some money pretty quick, I'mgoing to make trouble fer somebody, I tell you!"
"Haven't you got some place where we can talk that is less exposed thanthis?" said Jack, looking about him apprehensively.
"Sure, there's my mansion," grinned Hank, pointing over his shoulderwith a fishy thumb.
"That's the place," said Jack, "although I wish you'd clean it outoccasionally. Now listen, Hank, here's the plan--"
Still talking, the ill-assorted pair entered the ruinous shack.
* * * * * *
Motor-boat engines were popping everywhere. The club house was dressedin bright-colored bunting from veranda rail to ridge pole. Ladiesstrolled about beneath their parasols with correctly dressed yachtsmen,asking all sorts of absurd questions about the various boats that layready to take part in the various events. It was the day of theHampton Yacht Club's regatta.
Among the throng the Boy Scouts threaded their way, watching withinterest the events as they were run off, one after the other. Buttheir minds were centered on the race for the trophy which, althoughthere were several other entries, had been practically conceded to SamRedding's hydroplane.
"She's a wonder," said one of the onlookers, pointing from the porch tothe float, where Jack Curtiss, Bill Bender and Sam were leaning overtheir speedy craft, stripping her of every bit of weight not absolutelynecessary. On the opposite side of the float the crew of the FlyingFish, the Snark, the Bonita and the Albacore were equally busy overtheir craft.
"Douse the engine with oil," directed Rob, as Merritt gave the pieceof machinery a final inspection; "and how about that extra set ofbatteries?"
"They're aboard," rejoined Tubby, who was perspiringly removingcushions and other surplus gear from the fleet boat.
"That's right; if it comes to an emergency, we may need them," saidRob. "Nothing like being prepared."
"Do you think we have any show?" asked Tubby, who was to be a sort ofgeneral utility man in the crew. Rob was to steer.
"I don't see why not," rejoined the other, wiping his oily hands on abit of waste. "The race is a handicap one, and we get an allowance onaccount of our engine not being as powerful as the hydroplane's."
The course to be run was a sort of elongated, or isosceles triangle.The turning point was at the head of the inlet, a buoy with a big redball on it being placed just inside the rough waters of the bar. Itmade a course of about five miles. The race for the Hampton Motor BoatClub's cup, for which the boys and the others were entered, was twiceround.
The waters about the club house were so dotted with motor craft whichdarted about in every direction that Commodore Wingate of the club andthe other regatta officials had a hard time keeping the course clearfor the contestants. On the threat, however, that the races would becalled off if a clear course was not kept, order was finally obtained.
The boys were too busy to pay much attention to the results of theother races, but a member of the club who had won the Blake trophy forthe cabin cruiser boats, warned the boys to beware of the turn abovethe far buoy.
"It's choppy as the dickens there," he said, as he made his way to theclub house, "and you want to take the turn easily. Don't 'bank' it, oryou'll lose more than you gain."
The boys thanked him for his advice, and laid it to heart to be usedwhen the race was on.
Sam's boat having been tuned up to the last notch of readiness, JackCurtiss strolled consequentially about on the float, making bets freelyon the hydroplane's chance of winning.
"I'll bet you twenty-five to any odds you like that the hydroplane winsthe race," he said, addressing Colin Maxwell, the son of a well-to-domerchant from a neighboring town. Young Maxwell had heard nothing ofJack's mean trick in the aeroplane contest, and therefore didn't mindtalking to him.
"I like the look of the Flying Fish pretty well," was the response,"and I'll take you up. You'll have to give me odds, though."
"Oh, certainly," responded the bully, with a confident grin;"twenty-five to thirty, say."
"Make it thirty-five."
"All right; done," said Jack. "You know me, of course; no necessity ofputting up the money."
"Oh, not the least," rejoined the other politely, though had he knownthe state of Jack's finances he might have thought differently.
The bully went about making several bets at similar odds, until finallyBill Bender came up behind him and in a low voice warned him to becareful.
"What are you going to do if we lose?" he breathed. "You haven't got acent to pay with."
"Oh, it's like taking gum from a busted slot machine," rejoined thebully, with a laugh. "They can't win. We know what their boat can do,and the race is practically conceded to us. Besides--" he placed hishand close to Bill's ear and whispered a few minutes. "I guess that'sa bad scheme, eh?" he resumed in a louder tone, though his voice wasstill pitched too low for those about to hear him. "If it's doneright, we'll ram them and it'll never be noticed."
"Hum, I'm not so sure," grunted Bill. "However, if we really perceivewe are losing, I don't see what else we are to do. Are you going tosteer?"
"Sure. Sam lost his nerve at the last moment--like him, eh? It's agood thing, though, I'm to be at the wheel, because I don't think Samwould have had the courage to carry out my plan."
"Not he," said Bill, with a shrug. "He's got the backbone of a snail."
More of this interesting conversation was cut short by the "bang" ofthe pistol which warned the contestants of the racing boats to getready.
"The race for the Hampton Yacht Club's trophy will take place in fiveminutes!" cried the announcer.
The five contestants cast off from the float and slowly chugged out toa position in the rear of the starting line and behind the committeeboat. Then came the nervous work of awaiting the starting gun. Theboys had all donned slickers, and the crew of the hydroplane worerubber coats which covered them completely. A sort of spray hood hadbeen erected over the hydroplane's engines.
"T
hat means she's going to do her best," remarked Rob, pointing to thisindication that great speed was expected. "That's what we want to do,too, isn't it?"
At last came the gun that started off the Snark, the Bonita and theAlbacore, which were all of about the same speed.
"Our turn next," said Rob, who had previously received his instructionsfrom the committee.
"Well, I'm all ready," said Merritt, nervously twisting a grease cup.
Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol Page 12
