The Rival Campers Afloat; or, The Prize Yacht Viking

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XXI. A TIMELY ARRIVAL

  Would they be pursued this night? Would before the dawn, to race withhim? Thus there be any yacht set sail from Southport, thought Mr.Carleton. Thus he questioned himself, and answered, "No."

  And yet the good yacht _Viking_ was, all unknown to any one, running arace. The goal was Stoneland--and the competitor, the yacht _Surprise_.

  Thirty miles apart, these two yachts had entered upon this race--and noone knew it. At about the time the _Viking_ had got under way from outSouthport Harbour, so had the yacht _Surprise_ floated clear. Should theytry to beat back to Stoneland before morning? Why not? The night need notstop them. The crew knew the way. The yacht _Surprise_ began the long,ten-mile beat for Stoneland at about twelve o'clock. The yacht _Viking_was already under way. Would they meet or would they pass?

  Harry Brackett, lying miserably on the cabin berth, was suddenly awarethat the yacht had ceased running and had swung up into the wind. Then heheard the sound of the sail dropping. He sat up in wonder. The nextmoment, Mr. Carleton descended into the cabin. The yacht _Viking_ wasdrifting before the wind at its own will. There was little sea on, andMr. Carleton had abandoned the wheel.

  "What--what's the matter?" stammered poor Harry Brackett.

  "Nothing," replied Mr. Carleton, shortly. He paid no heed to the forlornfigure on the berth, but hastily proceeded to light another lantern. Heturned the wick up so that it shone brightly, and, carrying it, wentdirect to the third starboard locker that had been Squire Brackett'sundoing. He stooped down and pulled out, first, the larger drawer, andthen the smaller and secret one. By the lantern light, he looked within.

  Harry Brackett, gazing at him in amazement, saw a strange andunaccountable thing. He saw the man's face, in the lantern's gleam, paleto a deathly hue. He saw the drawer that he held drop from his fingersand fall to the floor. He saw the man stagger back, like one that hasbeen struck a blow. Then, the man's face, turned toward him, was so fullof fierce passion and wrath that he shrank back, terrified, and dared notspeak to ask him what it might mean. Now Mr. Carleton advanced to wherehe lay.

  "Get up! I want you to help me," was all he said. But Harry Brackett, tohis dying day, would never forget that voice. He scrambled up andfollowed the man outside.

  "Get that sail up!" said Mr. Carleton.

  Harry Brackett seized the halyards. The yacht _Viking_ went on its courseagain. But precious moments had been lost.

  The man's face was something fearful to look into. He threw the wheelover and back, as though he would twist it apart. But he uttered not aword.

  Now they were running near a thin chain of islands. Mr. Carleton broughtforth a chart and spread it out upon the cockpit floor, with the lanternon one corner.

  "Do you know this bay at all?" he inquired, suddenly.

  "Ye-es," answered the boy. "Those are the Pine Islands just ahead, Ithink."

  "Right," exclaimed Mr. Carleton. "I thought so. I'll go through like abook."

  Presently he muttered something else, inaudible to Harry Brackett--andmercifully so. "I'll do it," he said. "The boy's in the way. I've got togo it alone."

  It was quiet water in the channel between the islands, and the _Viking_skimmed through like a phantom yacht.

  "Here, hold this wheel," said Mr. Carleton, suddenly, turning to HarryBrackett. "Keep her just as she's going."

  As the boy obeyed, Mr. Carleton seized the line by which the rowboat wastowing and drew it up close astern.

  "Get into that boat!" he said, the next moment.

  Harry Brackett gave a howl of terror, and shrank away.

  "No, no, oh don't!" he cried. "Don't you leave me here. I might have tostay a week. I'd starve. I'll do any--"

  Harry Brackett's words were choked off, abruptly. He felt himselfgathered up in two powerful arms. He was half-dragged, half-lifted, overthe stern of the yacht, and tumbled into the boat, headlong. Then, as hescrambled to his feet, howling for mercy, a knife flashed in the hand ofMr. Carleton. The rope was severed. The _Viking_ shot ahead. The rowboatdropped astern. Harry Brackett, alone in the night, beheld the yachtspeeding away like a shadow. A few rods away, the light waves moaned inupon a sandy beach. There was only the black, desolate island, untenantedsave by sea-birds, to turn to. Like a lost and hopeless mariner, he gotout an oar and paddled in to land, where, upon the beach, abandoned andovercome, he sank down and wept--a faint-hearted Crusoe, monarch of allthe shadows and dreariness that he surveyed.

  And now that he was in turn alone and in sight of no man, Mr. Carleton,at the wheel of the _Viking_, engaged in strange pantomime. He clenchedhis fist and shook it at imaginary foes. He struck his hand again andagain upon the wheel, as though that were alive and could feel the painof the blow. If he had suddenly lost his wits he would not have donestranger things.

  "But I've got the yacht!" he cried, angrily. "She'll pay me for what I'vespent. I'll put her through."

  And then a sudden thought struck him. He brought the _Viking_ abruptlyinto the wind again, dropped the wheel, and rushed down the companionway.He threw open the door of the provision locker--and uttered a cry ofrage. It was empty.

  Back at the wheel now was Mr. Carleton. The lights of Stoneland Harbourshone faintly, far, far ahead. He sat, grim and troubled.

  "More time wasted!" he muttered. "But I've got to stop. And 'twill bethree o'clock before I get in. If they've got word there, I'm lost. Andwhere can a man buy food at that hour of the night? I have it--the bighotel. There'll be somebody on watch. I'll get it by four at the latest.I'll play the gentleman yachtsman in distress, and pay handsomely."

  But he had lost time. The night had hindered him. By day, he could havelaid a straighter course. And there had been delays. It was nearlyhalf-past three when the yacht _Viking_, feeling its way into the harbourof Stoneland, rounded to off the wharves, and the anchor went down.Leaving his sail set, and giving the yacht plenty of sheet, to lie easy,Mr. Carleton lifted the skiff over the rail, jumped in, and rowed ashore.

  All safe and clear thus far. No sign of disturbance in the town, as herowed in. No launch darting out to seize him. Only a few sluggishcoasters lying near peacefully at anchor. Only a fishing-boat or twomaking an early start for the outer islands. Only, far down below, a redand a green light indistinctly to be seen, as of a small craft beating upto harbour.

  Mr. Carleton rowed in to the wharf, tied his boat in a slip, and vanishedup into the town.

  A red and a green light, showing from port and starboard respectively,came to be seen more distinctly as the time went by. Close to, one mighthave seen now that it was a trim yacht, but beating in slowly, as onegoes carefully in darkness, where shipping may lie.

  There was also to be seen--if there had been any one to look--that aweary youth sat at the wheel; that a smaller, but brighter-eyed, nimbleyoungster was standing up forward, peering ahead into the darkness.

  "I think we can anchor most anywhere here now," said the boy astern. "Iguess the water isn't too deep to fetch bottom."

  "Wait a minute, Joe," answered the boy forward, rubbing one bare footagainst his trousers leg. "I say, there's a sail, on ahead a few rods.Luff up a little more, and we'll run in near to that."

  "All right, Tim, tell me when we're heading right," responded the otherboy. But he stared at his small companion in astonishment, a momentlater, when the latter, deserting his post, darted aft, uttering awarning "hush."

  "What on earth is the matter with you, Tim Reardon?" exclaimed the boy atthe wheel.

  "Let her come up and take a look for yourself," was Tim Reardon's reply."It's the _Viking_, as sure as you're alive. They must be asleep. We'llget aboard and give Henry Burns one good toot on the horn. He's fond ofthat sort of thing, so he can't say anything to us. But I wonder whatthey've left the sail up for. Won't they be surprised to see us?"

  Joe Hinman, bringing the _Surprise_ up into the wind at the other'swords, himself gave an exclamation of surprise to see the s
ail set on the_Viking_.

  "That's queer," he said. "Tim, you take the tender and go aboard, while Ihold the _Surprise_ where she is. Don't be a fool, though, and blow anyhorn. If they're as tired as we are, they'll be mad enough to throw youoverboard."

  Tim Reardon made no reply, as he rowed alongside the _Viking_, but amischievous twinkle danced in his eyes.

  When he had stepped softly aboard, however, and had crept down into thecabin, he darted swiftly on deck again.

  "Joe," he called, "this is great! They've gone ashore. And they must becoming back soon. That's why they've left the sail up."

  Then Little Tim Reardon, scampering forward, did a strange thing. Tuggingaway at the rope, he brought the anchor off from bottom and clear to thesurface of the water. Taking a few turns of the rope around the bitts, tosecure it, he darted astern, seized the wheel of the _Viking_, and puther under way.

  "Here, you Tim, quit that!" cried Joe Hinman in disgust, from the sternof the _Surprise_. "You don't want to be too free with your tomfoolerywith Jack and Henry Burns. Just remember whose yacht we're sailing.They'll be mad clean through, too. It's no joke to think you've lost afine yacht."

  Little Tim only chuckled derisively, realizing that his larger companioncould not compel obedience from the deck of another boat.

  "I'm doing this," he said. "We don't get a chance to play a joke likethis on Henry Burns every day. Wouldn't he do it quick, himself, though?Besides, I'm not going far--only up around the end of that long wharf. Wecan watch from there and see what happens."

  "You're a meddlesome little monkey; that's what you are," exclaimed JoeHinman, too sleepy and weary to see fun in anything. "You'll catch itfrom Jack--and you'll get what you deserve."

  And yet Joe Hinman, so long as somebody else would smart for it, had justenough interest in the plot to follow along with the _Surprise_.Together, the two yachts turned in under the lee of a long wharf, lessthan an eighth of a mile ahead, lowered the sails so they should not bevisible, and came to anchor.

  "You've got to take the blame for this, Tim," said Joe Hinman, as theywaited together on deck.

  "I'll do it," chuckled Tim Reardon. "I like a joke as well as Henry Burnsdoes. He'll take it all right, too. You see if he don't."

  They woke the two boys who were sleeping in the cabin of the_Surprise_--to see the fun. George Baker and Allan Harding came on deck,sleepy and grumbling. Nor did the joke take on a more hilarious aspect,as the time went by and no Jack Harvey and no Henry Burns put in anappearance.

  "I'm going to turn in," said Joe Hinman, at length. "You can have all thefun to yourself, Tim."

  He went below, the two other boys following his example.

  Little Tim, himself, began to lose heart in the joke--when, suddenly, inthe faint gray of the approaching dawn, he espied a boat coming out fromshore toward where the _Viking_ had lain. It was four o'clock. The boatwas a small skiff. There was only one person in it. Whoever he was, hewas rowing furiously. There seemed to be a box of some sort on the seatin front of him.

  Suddenly the man ceased rowing. His head was turned for a moment. Then hesprang to his feet in the small skiff, with a jump that almost upset thecraft. He peered wildly about him and seemed to be rubbing his eyes, likea person in a dream or one rudely aroused from sleep. Then he sat downand rowed a way down the harbour--then across to one side--then in towardshore again.

  "That isn't either Jack or Henry Burns," said Tim Reardon; "and yet heacts as though he had lost something--his head, I guess."

  Little Tim was nearer correct than he knew.

  "He looks familiar, too," thought Tim Reardon. "What man does he looklike? I can't think."

  But what happened next was more extraordinary than before. The mansuddenly sprang up, gave one glance about on all sides, then picked upthe box on the seat before him and dumped it overboard. He resumed hisseat, seized the oars, and began rowing furiously down the harbour. At apoint some way below where he had first appeared, he ran the boat in toshore, sprang out, left the boat without tying it or dragging it up onthe beach, and started off, running desperately.

  "That's a crazy man," said Little Tim to himself--and again spoke not farfrom the truth, unwittingly.

  "Hang the joke!" cried Tim, finally. "I wish I hadn't done it now. Itdon't seem so funny after waiting all this time. I'm going to bed, too. Iguess I will catch it, just as Joe said I would."

  He went below, in the cabin of the _Viking_. His companions were aboardthe _Surprise_.

  Morning came, and Little Tim awoke with something disturbing his mind.Oh, yes; now that he was wide awake, he knew. It was that joke. He wishedhe hadn't played it. He wished so more and more when Joe Hinman awoke andfound that Jack and Henry Burns had not put in an appearance.

  "You've made a nice mess of it, Tim," he exclaimed. "I wouldn't be inyour shoes, when Jack gets you. Like as not they've come down in sight ofshore and seen that the yacht was gone, and have given out an alarm. Thebest thing we can do is to go up into the town and find them, and try tosquare things."

  Little Tim, looking very sober, scampered off, followed soon by theothers. More puzzling than ever it became, when a search through the townfailed to yield any trace of the missing yachtsmen. The boys returned tothe yachts, and waited.

  Somewhere near eleven o'clock there was a curious coincidence. JoeHinman, looking off on the water, suddenly uttered an exclamation ofsurprise and pointed to a sailboat that was coming in.

  "That's Captain Sam's old tub," he said. "I know her as far as I can seeher."

  But they received a greater surprise, the next moment. A man in some sortof uniform, passing along by the wharves, also uttered an exclamation andstopped short.

  "Well, if that don't beat me!" he said. "Of all fool things, to steal ayacht and bring her in here. That's her, though: about thirty-eight feet;white; two jibs, and there's the name, '_Viking_.' Well, I never saw thelike of this before."

  The man stepped to the edge of the wharf and jumped down on to the deckof the _Viking_.

  "Who's in charge here?" he asked.

  "I am," replied Little Tim Reardon, emerging from the cabin.

  The man laughed.

  "You're the youngest boat-thief on record," he said, eying Timwonderingly. "What put you up to it, boy? Been reading dime-novels?"

  "Well, it's all right, anyway," replied Little Tim, who had, however,turned pale beneath his coating of tan. "They're our friends that own theyacht. We're waiting for 'em. Just let 'em know we're here with the boat,and they'll come down and tell you it's all right."

  The man grinned.

  "Say, you're pretty slick, if you are small," he said. "But the troubleis, your friends don't happen to be in town. They sent a telegram fromBellport. I guess you'll have to wait somewhere else for them."

  Little Tim's eyes bulged out and his jaw dropped. But the next moment hewas standing on his head, with his bare toes twinkling in the air, forsheer delight.

  "Hooray; 'twas the man in the skiff that had her," he cried--to the utteramazement of the stranger and of his own companions. "Just wait a minute,anyway, till that sailboat gets in. It comes from Southport, and perhapsCaptain Sam can explain things."

  But there was some one besides Captain Sam aboard the good old _NancyJane_, to explain things. There were Jack Harvey and Henry Burns,standing up forward and peering ahead eagerly. And how they did yell whenthey saw the crew of the _Surprise_ standing on the wharf, waving toattract their attention.

  And then, ten minutes later, when the _Nancy Jane_, waddling in like afat, good-natured duck of a boat, had come alongside, and had let JackHarvey and Henry Burns scramble aboard the _Viking_--almost with tears intheir eyes--why then, Little Tim stepped forward and said he was underarrest for stealing the boat. And wouldn't they please pardon him, andget the man to let him go; he wouldn't do it again; oh, no. He had justfound the yacht down below, with the sail up, and had run it up here fora joke--he was sorry--

  But Little Tim didn't get any farther, for H
enry Burns had him liftedclear up on his shoulder. And Jack Harvey had him, the next minute, andbetween the two he was mauled and hugged and slapped till his shoulderssmarted--and he was almost in tears, too, to discover what he hadaccomplished.

  As for the official, who had made such an important discovery, he hardlyknew at first whether to be angry or not, at finding that his discoverywas really of a yacht that had already been recovered. But he finallyrelented, and patted Little Tim on the back, too, and said he was a goodboy. Then he took Mr. Carleton's description and hurried up into thetown.

  He got trace of Mr. Carleton, too, after a time, at the big hotel, whereCarleton had succeeded in buying some provisions. He traced him fromthere, down through the town, to the wharf. Later, he found a man who hadseen such a person come ashore from a skiff, and leave her adrift and runup the shore. And lastly, the station agent had seen a man answering thatdescription take the early morning train out of town.

  Mr. Carleton had, indeed, vanished--a disappointed, wrathful, frightenedman. A strange and most complete disappearance, too, for neitherStoneland nor Southport heard of him more. True, there came a messagefrom the police, a day later, that a man who was much like the missingMr. Carleton, had had some trouble over a ticket with the conductor of atrain entering Boston; but the man had got away from the station, and noarrest had been made.

  But it was all one to Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, what should become ofMr. Carleton, when they had the _Viking_ back. And there, in the courseof the afternoon, when they were preparing to depart, was a canoe to beseen, coming down alongshore. So they sailed up and met it, and had Tomand Bob aboard. And there was Little Tim, whom they had taken with them,to be congratulated. And then, there were the Warren boys in the _Spray_,to be hunted up among the islands, and told the good news.

  Oh, yes, and there was Captain Sam, roaring like a sea-lion over the goodnews. And there were the two yachts, the _Viking_ and the _Surprise_,going up the bay together, to meet the _Spray_ wherever they should findher.

  Then, late that afternoon, as Captain Sam was nearing Grand Island, onhis return voyage, he espied in the distance, close to shore, a forlornfigure, rowing wearily in the direction of Southport.

  "I'm blest if that don't look like young Harry Brackett," exclaimedCaptain Sam. "It is, as sure as you're alive. Ahoy, don't you want a tow,there?"

  But the boy, turning his head in the direction of the _Nancy Jane_, shookhis head mournfully, and resumed his rowing.

  "Well, you don't have ter," was Captain Sam's comment.

  Harry Brackett, sore, sleepless, and weary, had his own reasons for notwishing to face the captain.

  One week later, Jack Harvey, sitting on the step of Rob Dakin's store,received a letter. He opened and read:

  "My dear Jack:--I've won the lawsuit and you shall have some money as soon as things are settled. I wonder how you have got along this summer. Too bad to cut you off, but I'll make it up to you by and by. Let me know how much money you need.

  "Affectionately, "Your father, "William Harvey."

  For once in his life, Jack Harvey was prompt with an answer. This is whathe wrote:

  "Dear Dad:--Glad you won. Much obliged for offering me the money. I don't need it. I've been earning some, and if you want some ready money I'll lend you twenty-five dollars.

  "Affectionately, "Your son, "Jack."

  They were all aboard the yacht _Viking_, one evening not longafter--Henry Burns and Jack Harvey, the crew, Tom and Bob, and the Warrenboys.

  "Fellows," said Harvey, "Henry's got us all together to tell us asecret--something he's discovered, he says. Come on, Henry, out with it."

  Henry Burns, holding one hand in his coat pocket, and looking as grave asthough his communication was to be one of the greatest importance, turnedto his companions, and said:

  "I thought, because you were all such warm friends of Squire Brackett,you might like to know whether he was after that secret drawer in the_Viking_, and whether he found the lobster-claw."

  The outburst of elation and surprise that followed assured Henry Burns hewas not mistaken.

  "Well, I've found out," said Henry Burns. "You see, when we got the yachtback we saw the drawer on the floor, and the claw, too. That wasCarleton's work, of course. I didn't think about the squire's having thedrawer out, till later. We were all so upset, you know."

  "Jack," he continued, "do you remember our eating that lobster--the onethat owned the claw we put into the drawer?"

  "Why, yes, of course," replied Harvey.

  "And do you remember saying that you'd have eaten both claws if the oneyou left hadn't been so big?"

  "Why, yes, I remember that, too," replied the puzzled Harvey.

  "Well, now, which claw was it that you didn't eat, and that we put intothe drawer?" asked Henry Burns.

  "The right one," answered Harvey. "I remember breaking off the left oneto eat because it was smaller."

  "That's just as I remember it, too," said Henry Burns. "Now look here."He withdrew his hand from his pocket and produced the claw they had foundon the cabin floor. A roar of laughter greeted its appearance.

  It was the left claw of a lobster that Henry Burns held up to view.

  THE END.