by Oliver Optic
"I wouldn't have said anything if I had been Ben."
"Very likely you would, Bobtail; for with all the information I have obtained from you, and from other sources, I spoke by the book, and he had every reason to suppose I was in the captain's confidence."
"But do you really think Captain Chinks will come down here?" asked Bobtail.
"I am almost sure of it."
"I should stay away, if I were him."
"He must come to unsnarl the tangle he has made here," replied the detective. "He must have been more astonished and disconcerted when Squire Gilfilian showed him the bill he had paid for the boat, than any one else was. Very likely he will have another explanation to make to show how he came by it, and he may trace it back to you in some way. But we will keep an eye on him."
At the hotel they met Mr. Brooks, but the gentleman who had sold the Skylark, being in feeble health, had retired early. Nothing could be done, and Bobtail returned to the yacht, while his passengers took rooms at the hotel, and slept like a rock till morning, for he had worked hard all day. At sunrise the next morning he was on his feet again. The Darwinian had more talent for sleeping than the skipper of the Skylark, and did not turn out till half an hour later. Bobtail had scarcely shown himself on deck before Ben Chinks pulled to the yacht.
"Say, Bob, who is that man with you?" asked he.
"You must ask him who he is?"
"Don't you know?"
"I never saw him till a few days ago. In his kind of business, he don't always tell who he is. No doubt he will tell you before night who he is. What have you been doing down here so long?" asked the skipper, wishing to divert the conversation into some other channel.
"I have made a pile of money taking out parties to sail, while I'm waiting."
"What are you waiting for?"
"Waiting for the old man. Didn't he tell you?"
"No; he didn't say much to me."
"What did he give you for picking up the boat?"
"He hasn't given me anything yet," replied Bobtail. "How much do you charge a day for your boat and two hands?"
"Five dollars."
"I've taken some parties out in the boat, and I have been charging seven and eight dollars a day."
"That's a better boat than the Eagle. If I had her I should charge eight dollars a day. But how did you get that stuff out of the Skylark?"
"I ran over in the night, and landed it between one and two o'clock in the morning, when no one was stirring in our part of the town. I hid it away in the attic, and this man took it away in the night," replied Bobtail, confining himself strictly to the facts, though of course he was no less guilty of deception than if he had told a number of square lies, except that the deception was in the interest of justice.
"It was lucky for the old man that you picked that boat up; but he's mean if he don't give you something handsome," added Ben.
"I have had the use of the boat ever since I picked her up."
"Well, that's somethin'. There comes Monkey. Does he know anything about this business?" whispered Ben.
"Not a thing."
This was a sufficient reason for saying nothing more about it, and Ben soon returned to the Eagle. After breakfast, Bobtail went up to the hotel, where his passengers lodged. In the course of the forenoon, the deputy sheriff "interviewed" Mr. Gordon, the gentleman who had sold the Skylark. He was sure he could identify the man who had paid him the five hundred dollar bill. When the steamer from Portland, which touches at Rockland, arrived, almost everybody went down to the wharf, Mr. Gordon among the number.
"If you see the man who paid you the bill, point him out, if you please, but don't say anything about it," said Mr. Brooks, as the gang plank of the steamer was run out.
"There he is!" exclaimed Mr. Gordon, as Captain Chinks walked from the boat to the wharf.
The deputy sheriff and Mr. Hines kept out of sight. Bobtail had been sent away in the Skylark, that she might not attract the attention of the smuggler, and was standing off and on a mile or more from the shore.
As soon as Captain Chinks landed, he was greeted by Ben, his nephew, who was doubtless glad to see him.
"I s'pose you are tired of waiting—ain't you, Ben?" asked the captain, who wore a troubled expression.
"Not a bit on't. I've been makin' five dollars a day, right along, takin' parties out to sail," replied Ben, with a cheerful grin; "but I had to pay a boy half a dollar a day to help me."
"That's pretty well."
"Why didn't you come down afore?"
"Because I didn't hear anything from St. John; and things are a little mixed up to Camden."
"Mixed! Why, I thought everything had come out fust rate. You got the Skylark and the stuff back as slick as a whistle."
"Who told you so?" demanded the captain, with a startled look.
"Why, Little Bobtail. He's here in the Skylark, and said you sent him."
Bobtail certainly had not said any such thing. Ben had inferred it from what Mr. Hines had stated. It was not prudent to talk of these matters in the midst of so many people, and the captain and his nephew hastened on board of the Eagle.
"I didn't send him," said Captain Chinks, very much perplexed.
"You didn't?"
"No; the young villain picked up the boat, but I couldn't do anything with him."
"Sho!" exclaimed Ben, who began to be worried himself. "Bobtail's here, and that other man with him."
"What other man!" demanded the captain, savagely.
"That man that took the stuff off your hands."
"What stuff!"
"Why, the liquor that was in the Skylark."
"What do you mean, Ben?"
"Didn't Bob pick up the Skylark and land the stuff in the night; and didn't you sell it to that other man? and didn't he move it out of Bob's house in the night?"
"No!" roared Captain Chinks.
"That's what they said, anyhow," added Ben, stoutly.
"Who said so?"
"Why, the man that took the stuff off your hands."
"Who is he?"
"Well, don't you know?"
"No, I don't," gasped Captain Chinks.
"I'm sure I don't, then. He wouldn't tell me his name. He came down in the Skylark with Bobtail yesterday."
The gentleman with a doubtful reputation uttered an exceedingly hard and naughty expletive, and he did so with much emphasis. His face was very red, and his lips quivered with wrath.
"Have you been talking with any one about this business, Ben Chinks?" demanded the smuggler, shaking his clinched fist in the face of his nephew.
"I didn't tell him nothin'; he told me, and he said he took that stuff off your hands, and was goin' to have the next lot; he said you oughtn't to land the stuff on that island, and wanted to know how we happened to let the boat go adrift."
"And you told him?" gasped the captain.
"What was the use of my tellin' on him, when he knowed all about it? O, he said you and I had both been takin' too much. He was kind o' jokin', but I stuck to it that we was as sober as he was. I did tell him how the boat got adrift; but he told me all the rest."
"Ben, you are a fool!"
"I tell you he knowed all about it," whined the nephew.
"You've made a pretty mess of it."
"I didn't do it. He knowed all about it afore, and I s'posed you told him."
"I told him nothing. I never said a word to him. Don't you know the man's name?"
"No, I don't. He wouldn't tell me, nor Bob nuther."
"Well, I know who he is," groaned Captain Chinks, pounding the trunk of the cabin with his fist, and grating his teeth with rage.
"Who is he?"
"He's a custom-house officer."
"Sho! you don't say so!" cried Ben, with horror, for he regarded a custom-house officer in about the same light that he did a hangman.
"You've told him all about it," added the Captain.
"I didn't tell him nothin'; he knowed it all before.'
"All we can do now is to get out of the way. Where is this man?"
"I don'no; I hain't seen him to-day. There's the Skylark," replied Ben, pointing to the yacht.
"Is he on board of her?"
"No."
"Are you sure of it?"
"Sartain, I am. I see Bobtail start off in her alone."
"We must get out of the way, but I don't know where to go to," groaned the captain. "I cal'late you've ruined me, Ben."
"I didn't do it," protested the nephew. "I keep a tellin' on you, he knowed all about it in the fust on't."
"Get up your fore'n mainsail. We must get out of this as quick as we can."
"You can't kerry the foresail. It blows like Sam Hill, and squally, too."
"Hist the mainsail then."
This sail was set, but the moment they began to hoist it, Mr. Hines made the signal agreed upon, by waving his handkerchief on the wharf, for the return of the Skylark. The steamer had gone, and most of the people had left the wharf by this time. Bobtail, who was on the lookout for the signal, saw it immediately, and headed the yacht for the pier. As Ben Chinks had remarked, it blew hard, and the wind came in heavy flaws. The Skylark had a single reef in her mainsail, and the jib was furled, but even with this short canvas she flew like a bird.
"There goes the Eagle," shouted Monkey from the forecastle.
"Who's on board of her?" asked Bobtail.
"I reckon it's Captain Chinks; it looks like him."
The skipper looked at the boat through the spy-glass, and identified the captain.
"He's trying to get away," said he.
"What for?" asked Monkey, who was in blissful ignorance of the smuggling operation of the captain.
"You will soon know," replied Bobtail.
The Eagle, under jib and mainsail, was standing out of the harbor, and the Skylark had to pass her on her way to the wharf. Captain Chinks was at the helm himself, and at that moment, as he gazed at Little Bobtail, he was the maddest man on the waters of Maine. Both boats were going free, and when they were nearly abreast of each other, and not a hundred feet apart, the captain suddenly put up his helm, and the Eagle darted towards the Skylark, as if she shared the spite of her skipper, and as an eagle would pounce upon a skylark.
"Down with your helm!" shouted Bobtail, full of excitement, for the danger of a collision was imminent.
If the Skylark had held on her course, she would have been struck amidships by the bow of the Eagle; but Bobtail jammed his helm hard down, the result of which was to throw the yacht up into the wind, and bring her alongside the other craft. As it was, the Eagle's bow grated along the quarter of the Skylark. Bobtail supposed that Captain Chinks intended to board the yacht, and he instantly seized the spare tiller, which he always carried in the standing-room when it blew hard, and stood ready to "repel boarders." But the captain did not intend to capture the Skylark. Probably he intended to sink her; but his purposes were only known to himself. The sails of the Eagle were still full, and she continued on her course.
"Keep out of the way next time!" shouted Captain Chinks.
Bobtail made no reply, but filled away again, and in a few minutes was at the wharf. Mr. Hines and Mr. Brooks leaped on board.
"After him, Bobtail," cried the detective, earnestly, as he shoved off the bow of the boat.
"He has heard all about it from Ben, and is going to run away. Hurry up."
The Skylark was clear of the wharf, and coming about, was headed towards the Eagle.
"Is Captain Chinks's boat fast?" asked Mr. Hines.
"Yes, sir; but it blows too hard for her to-day. She don't carry sail worth a cent," replied Bobtail.
"How is it with the Skylark?"
"She is the ablest boat I know."
"Good! Then we have the advantage."
"Hoist the jib, Monkey," shouted the skipper.
"Are you sure she will carry it? It blows heavy outside, and the wind comes in flaws," added Mr. Hines.
"I know her like a book. She will carry her jib and mainsail to-day, but we have one reef in. The Eagle has two miles or more the start of us; but we will give her a sweat," said Bobtail.
"She is hoisting her foresail now."
"She will have to take it in again when she gets clear of the land."
With her jib set, the Skylark occasionally put her scuppers under, but she was as stiff as Mount Desert itself, and only heeled over just so far, under any flaw that came.
"I didn't think the captain would run for it so soon," said Mr. Hines. "He didn't even go to the hotel, where a letter is waiting for him. It has the St. John postmark upon it, and I know what that means without opening it."
"He tried to run me down," added Bobtail.
"I saw him do it. His game is nearly up. I intended to arrest him when he came down from the hotel, but he took the alarm from what Ben told him."
As the Eagle ran out from the land, it was evident that she could not long carry her foresail. It was taken in very soon, but she sailed faster without it than with it. The Skylark gained rapidly upon her. The water—Frenchman's Bay—was studded with islands, but Mr. Hines, who had taken the helm, was perfectly familiar with the navigation. As the race began to be a desperate one for Captain Chinks, he dodged in among the islands, tempting his pursuer to make short cuts over sunken ledges; but in all these expedients he failed. The Eagle was a keel boat, and drew more water than the Skylark, so that wherever the former went the latter need not fear to follow. At last Captain Chinks appeared to have given up the race, and Mr. Hines surmised that he was running for a landing-place on one of the islands. But the Skylark was still gaining, and was now almost abreast of the Eagle.
"All ready, Mr. Brooks," said the detective, as the bowsprit of the sloop came up with the quarter of the schooner.
"I'm ready," replied the deputy sheriff, as he went forward to the bow of the yacht.
"Stand by the sheets, Bobtail, for I don't know what he will do next."
"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the skipper. "Have a fender ready, Monkey."
"All right."
In a moment more, the forecastle of the Skylark was abreast, on the weather side, of the Eagle, taking the wind out of her mainsail in part.
"Hard down," shouted Mr. Brooks, as he saw Captain Clunks jam down the helm of the schooner.
Both boats came up into the wind alongside each other, and Monkey was busy with his fender. The deputy sheriff leaped upon the deck of the Eagle, and Mr. Hines, giving the helm to Bobtail, followed him. The skipper permitted the yacht to come about, and she went clear of the other boat.
"You are my prisoner, Captain Chinks," said Mr. Brooks.
"What for?" gasped the captain.
"For stealing that letter."
"I didn't steal it."
"That remains to be proved."
"We ain't in Knox County now."
"Never mind; I will take you for violating the revenue laws," added Mr. Hines, as he took the helm of the schooner.
"I hain't done nothing," protested Captain Chinks.
"We will go over to Camden, and settle that point some other time."
The captain was obliged to give it up, and he groaned in bitterness of spirit. To be charged with stealing the letter, and with violating the revenue laws at the same time, was more than he had anticipated. On the first, if convicted, he would be sentenced to imprisonment, and on the other, to pay a heavy fine. His crimes brought loss of liberty and loss of property.
Bobtail eased off his mainsheet, and waited for the Eagle to come up. Mr. Hines had already decided to return to Camden in Captain Chinks's boat, and when he had announced his purpose, the Skylark filled away again. It was now about noon, and as the wind was contrary for at least half the way back to Camden, the skipper hardly expected to reach his destination that night. The yacht very soon ran away from the schooner, and at six o'clock had made half the distance. She had come up with the point which forms the south-eastern point of the town of Brooklyn, where she st
arted her sheets, and ran through the channel between Deer Island and Sedgwick.
The wind was still unsteady, coming in heavy flaws; but now it was beginning to haul more to the southward. This change was favorable, for it enabled the Skylark to lay her course for Camden. But an awful sea was rolling in from the ocean, and the yacht jumped like a galloping horse. The wind freshened into a gale with the change, and the gusts were more fitful and violent. The jib was taken in, and Monkey was thoroughly ducked in the operation, for the Skylark occasionally slapped the waves with her bowsprit. Great black clouds were rolling up off to seaward, but Bobtail was confident that the yacht was equal to anything. Under the lee of an island, the mainsail was close-reefed; but she flew over the waves, and the skipper hoped to reach his destination by nine in the evening. At eight o'clock, while it was still light, he discovered a schooner working down the bay under jib and reefed mainsail which he recognized as the Penobscot.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE WRECK OF THE PENOBSCOT.
"That's the Penobscot!" exclaimed Bobtail, as soon as he identified her.
"She is taking a nasty night to go to sea," added Monkey.
"She will put into Rockland or Camden. I suppose the colonel is in a hurry to get to Newport for some race. He told me yesterday he should sail to-day."
"She ain't going into Camden. If she was, she wouldn't be out there. She's right off the ledges, and if she don't tack soon, she'll be on 'em," said the Darwinian.
"I think she's going into Rockland. She can make it in one more stretch."
"She can get in behind Owl's Head, and lay as easy as if she was in a mill pond."
"That's an awful sea out there, Monkey," said Bobtail. "See the breakers on that lower ledge. If I was the captain of the Penobscot, I should go in stays. There she goes!"
At this moment the sails of the large yacht shook, as her head came up to the wind. But the next instant she fell off, heeled over, and drove ahead again. Bobtail distinctly heard a shout from her, though she was a mile distant. He watched her with his heart in his mouth, and his worst fears were realized when he saw her lift her bow high up in the water. She had run upon the ledge.
"By gracious! she is on the rocks!" cried Bobtail, wild with excitement and anxiety.
