So speaking, Tom crawled out upon the fallen tree trunk until he could reach a rope hanging over the Wellington’s side. Then he drew himself up silently.
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Stanhope, on catching sight of him. “Is it really you, Tom Rover?”
“Hush, Mrs. Stanhope! not so loud,” he replied hastily. “I don’t want to let Josiah Crabtree know I am here.”
“But where did you come from?”
“From the island. It’s a long story. I am here with Sam.”
“It is very strange. But many things of late have been strange.”
“May I ask how you happen to be here?”
“That, too, is a long story. I was to take a trip with Dora, for the benefit of my health. But, on the way to the lakes Dora disappeared and Mr. Crabtree turned up in her place—and he has been with me ever since.”
“He wants to marry you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he has always wished that, as you know.”
“I wouldn’t do it. He is after your money, and that is all. He is a fraud, and everybody knows it.”
Mrs. Stanhope passed her hand over her brow. Tom’s blunt words did much to counteract Josiah Crabtree’s strange influence over her.
“Your words impress me deeply,” she faltered. “Dora talks that way, too. But—but—Mr. Crabtree, when he is with me, makes me think so differently.” She tried to get up, then sank back in her seat. “And I am so weak physically!”
“Don’t alarm yourself, Mrs. Stanhope. If you need a friend, I’ll stand by you—and so will Sam.”
“Where is Dick? You boys are always together.”
“I don’t know where he is at present. We were carried off by the Baxters, who are not far off.”
“The Baxters! Oh, I am afraid of those people—more afraid than I ever was of Mr. Crabtree.”
“They are certainly more daring, but no worse morally than Crabtree.” Tom ran his hand through his curly hair in perplexity. “Who is aboard of this boat?”
“Mr. Crabtree and myself, two sailors, and one of the sailors’ wives, who has been waiting on me.”
“Not a very large crowd.”
“Mr. Crabtree said he did not wish too many along.”
“How long have you been here on the lake?”
“Several days. I did not wish to go, but, but——”
“He has an influence over you?”
“Yes, a strange influence I cannot understand. Oh, I am so wretched!” And the lady suddenly burst into tears.
“Don’t, please don’t!” said Tom, all sympathy at once. “It’s Crabtree’s work, and he shan’t harm you. I’ll see you safe back to Dora and home.”
“Will you?” she demanded eagerly. “I do not wish to marry unless Dora is pleased. She said——”
Mrs. Stanhope got no further, for at that instant Josiah Crabtree reappeared on deck. His astonishment at seeing Tom can better be imagined than described.
CHAPTER XXI
TOM BRINGS ONE ENEMY TO TERMS
“Am I dreaming?” gasped the former school-teacher, when he could command his voice sufficiently to speak.
“You might better be dreaming, Josiah Crabtree,” replied Tom, eying the man sharply. “This is a bad business you are engaged in.”
“Where did you come from?”
“None of your business.”
“Don’t be impertinent, young man.”
“Then don’t try to pry into my private affairs.”
“Have you been following this boat?” questioned Crabtree nervously.
“Never mind what I’ve been doing. I have found you out, and that appears to be a good job done.”
“Found me out? What do you mean to insinuate by that?”
“I mean that you are up to no good; that’s what I mean, Mr. Josiah Crabtree, A. M.”
“You are very, very——”
“Don’t try to abuse me, it won’t work. I want to know what you propose to do with Mrs. Stanhope.”
“That is my affair—or, rather, it is the affair of that lady and myself—and does not concern such a scamp as you.”
“Oh, Josiah! I do not think Tom is a scamp,” broke in Mrs. Stanhope, in a pleading voice.
“He is a scamp, and worse, Pet. Allow me to deal with him alone.”
“So you thought to elope with Mrs. Stanhope,” went on Tom sarcastically. “To elope without Dora being the wiser.”
“Ha! what do you know of Dora!” ejaculated the man, starting back in alarm.
“I know a good deal.”
“Has she—ahem! followed me?”
“Would that surprise you?”
“It is—er—very extraordinary.” Crabtree cleared his throat. “I—that is—where is she now?” And he looked around.
“I told you I wasn’t answering questions. But you had better take my advice and go slow, or you’ll soon find yourself in jail again.”
“You must have followed us in a boat. Where is your craft?”
“Another question which I am not answering. Do you surrender?”
“Surrender?”
“That is what I said.”
“I—er—don’t understand.”
“The case is very simple. You ran off with Mrs. Stanhope, influencing her against her will to accompany you. Your game is to marry her so that you can get hold of the money she is holding in trust for Dora——”
“It is false!”
“It is the plain truth. Josiah Crabtree, you are a trickster of the first water, but if I can prevent your trickery I am going to do it.” Tom turned to Mrs. Stanhope, who was now crying violently. “Won’t you go below and let me have it out with this man?”
“Oh, I trust there will be no violence!” she sobbed.
“I shall teach this young upstart a lesson,” fumed Josiah Crabtree. He saw that Tom’s coming had greatly lessened his influence over the lady.
“Please go below, Mrs. Stanhope, and don’t worry about me,” said Tom.
“Yes, it will be best,” added Crabtree, and then the lady disappeared down the companion way, walking slowly, for she felt weaker than ever, because of the excitement.
“Now, sir, we will come to an understanding,” said the former teacher of Putnam Hall, as he faced Tom with a show of severe dignity.
“Very well, we will come to an understanding.”
“You have followed me to here.”
“Granted.”
“You came in another boat with Dora.”
“What if I did? Do you suppose I would come with her alone?” went on Tom, struck with a sudden idea.
“Do you mean to say you have—er—brought along any of the—ahem!—authorities?” And Josiah Crabtree glanced around nervously.
“I am not alone—nor is Dora where you can do her any harm.”
Josiah Crabtree’s face became a trifle pale.
“Boy, what do you wish to do—ruin me?”
“Mr. Crabtree, you are ruining yourself.”
“You were the means of putting me in jail before—you and your brothers.”
“You deserved it, didn’t you?”
“No.”
“I think you did. But that has nothing to do with the present situation. I want to know if you are willing to come to terms or not?”
“What—er—terms do you want me to make?”
“Are you in control of this boat?’
“I am.”
“Then, in the first place, you must turn the control of the boat over to me.”
“And after that?”
“You can remain on board, if you behave yourself, until we reach the mainland.”
“And what then?”
“After that you can make your own terms with Mrs. Stanhope and Dora.”
“But the authorities—”
“Mr. Crabtree, for the sake of the Stanhopes we wish to avoid all publicity,” replied Tom, playing his game as skillfully as possible. “I don’t think they will want to bring you and themselves into court, if you will promise to leave them alone in the future.”
“Who is with you here?” And Crabtree looked ashore anxiously.
“Sam is close at hand.”
“And the others?”
“Never mind about the others. I hold a winning hand, but what that is I’ll let time show. Now, for the last time, are you willing to let me take charge or not?”
“It is a very unusual proceeding.”
“Say yes or no.”
“What shall I say? I do not wish any trouble.”
“Then I am going to take charge. Call up the two sailors who have been running this boat for you.”
With a dark look on his face Josiah Crabtree did as requested. At the same time Tom beckoned to Sam to come on the deck.
The sailors were much astonished to see the two strangers. Only the fat tar could speak English, and he translated what was said into French for his companion’s benefit.
It was with very bad grace that Josiah Crabtree told the sailor who commanded the Wellington that Tom would now direct the movements of the vessel.
“We have—er—decided to change our plans,” said the former school-teacher.
“What you lak to do den, hey?” demanded the fat sailor.
“What is the nearest American town to here?” asked Tom.
“Ze nearest place?”
“Yes.”
“Buryport.”
“And how far is that from here?”
“Ten or eleven miles.”
“Then we will sail for that place, and at once.”
At this Crabtree looked surprised.
“You are going to Buryport at once? What about the others you said were with you?”
“I will answer no questions.” Tom turned around and winked at Sam, who had heard the previous conversation. “I guess they’ll follow right enough, eh?”
“Sure,” answered Sam. “Dick knows what he’s doing, and so does that detective.”
“A detective!” groaned Josiah Crabtree. “Has it come to this!” And he wrung his hands nervously.
“Mr. Crabtree, I must ask you to step forward,” went on Tom. “I do not wish you to go below.”
“Why?”
“I do not wish you to worry Mrs. Stanhope,” answered the youth. But what he was afraid of was that Crabtree might take it into his head to arm himself and bring on further trouble.
“As you please,” answered the former teacher, with a shrug of his shoulders. “You seem to have matters well in hand.” And he strode forward, biting his lip in vexation. He would have tried to escape to the island, only he was afraid no one would ever come to rescue him.
While speaking, Tom had taken the pains to display the pistol taken from the sailor at the cave. Sam now took up a short iron bar lying near, and both boys showed that they meant to remain masters of the situation. The Canadians noted this, but said nothing, for they felt something was wrong and they wished to get into no trouble. A few minutes later the anchor was brought up, the sails hoisted, and the Wellington stood away from Needle Point Island.
CHAPTER XXII
THE SECRET OF THE ISLAND CAVE
It is now time that we go back to the Rocket and see how Dick and those with him were faring.
At the announcement that a schooner looking like the Peacock was in sight he ran on deck with all speed, and caught up a glass belonging to the owner of the steam tug.
“It’s the Peacock, sure,” he cried.
“See anything o’ that Captain Langless or them Baxters?” asked Luke Peterson.
“I see somebody, but we are too far off to make out their faces.”
The order was passed to the engineer of the tug, and the speed of the craft was materially increased.
But before they could come up to the schooner she disappeared around a headland of the island.
“We must run out a bit,” said Captain Parsons. “There is a nasty reef here, and if we aint careful we’ll get aground.”
“Where do you suppose the Peacock has gone?” asked Dick.
“Into one of the bays, most likely.”
“Can we follow her?”
“Of coarse. The tug doesn’t draw any more water than the schooner, if as much.”
“Perhaps we had better see how the land lays before we approach too close,” suggested Peterson. “They may be prepared to fight us off.”
“That is true,” said Dick. “Perhaps we can slip into another bay close by.”
So it was arranged, and they sped on their way, passing the bay in which the Peacock lay.
Near the island was a quantity of driftwood, and they had just gotten out of sight of the bay when there was a sudden grinding and crashing sound on board of the tug, and the engineer shut off the steam power.
“A breakdown!” exclaimed the captain, and so it proved. The screw had become entangled in the limb of a tree, and sufficient damage had been done to render the screw useless.
This was indeed an unlooked-for accident, and Dick wondered what they had best do.
“We can’t use the screw at all?” he asked of the engineer, after an examination.
“Not until I have had a chance to repair it.”
“And how long will the repairs take?”
“Can’t tell till I get at work. Maybe an hour or two, maybe half a day.”
This was dismaying information, and Dick held a consultation with Larry Colby and Luke.
“I know what I’d do,” said Larry. “I’d have the captain of the tug land me at some point above here, and then I’d watch the Peacock from behind some bushes on shore.”
This was considered good advice, and Dick agreed to act upon it. He spoke to Parsons, and a small boat was put out, and Dick, Larry, and Peterson were rowed to land.
“Now what will you do with the tug?” asked the eldest Rover.
“We’ll haul her in to a safe spot,” answered Parsons. “I don’t believe those repairs will take over a couple of hours. Then we’ll be at your service again.”
Once on land Dick led the way into the woods, moving in the direction of the bay where he had last seen the Peacock.
He was armed, and so were his companions, but they wished, if possible, to avoid all trouble.
They had landed at a spot where the rocks were numerous and the ground uncertain, and they had not proceeded far when Luke Peterson called a halt.
“We want to be careful here,” he said. “This island is full of caves and pitfalls and, before you know it, you’ll break a leg.”
“It is certainly an ideal hiding place,” returned Larry. “Hi, Dick! what’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“I thought I saw somebody in the brush yonder.”
Dick shook his head.
“I saw nothing.”
“Neither did I,” put in the lumberman. “Who did it look like?”
“Perhaps I was mistaken and it was a bird flitting through the brush. Come on.”
Larry plunged ahead and Dick followed.
Both had hardly taken a dozen steps when each gave a yell.
“What’s up now?” cried Peterson, and came after them at a bound.
Then all tried to scramble back.
It was too late. They had struck a tiny water-course between the rocks. And now the very bottom of it seemed to drop out, and they sank down and down into almost utter darkness.
“We are lost!” spluttered Dick, but it is doubtful if either of his companions heard him.
For the minute after Dick was so dazed and bewildered that he said nothing
more. He clutched at rocks, dirt, and tree roots, but all gave way at his touch.
At last he found himself flat on his back on a heap of dead leaves and moss. Partly across him lay Larry, while Peterson was several feet away. Around the three lay dirt and bushes and several good-sized stones. It was lucky the stones had not come down on top of them, otherwise one or another might have been killed.
“Gosh, what a tumble!” ejaculated Peterson, when he could speak. “I told ye to be careful. This island is like a reg’lar honeycomb fer holes.”
“Oh, my foot!” gasped Larry, as he tried to get up.
“That was a tumble and no mistake,” said Dick. “What’s the matter with your foot, Larry?”
“I don’t know, excepting I must have sprained my ankle,” was the answer. “Oh!” And Larry gave a loud groan.
Forgetful of their situation, Dick and the lumberman bent over Larry and helped him to get off his shoe and sock. His ankle was beginning to swell and turn red, and he had sprained it beyond a doubt.
The water was coming into the opening from the little stream overhead, and Dick readily procured a hatful of the fluid and the ankle was bathed with this. After this it was bound up, and Larry said it felt somewhat better.
“But I can’t walk very far on it,” he continued, and then added, with a sorry smile, “I am laid up, just as the Rocket is!”
“The question is, now we are down at the bottom of this hole, how are we going to get out?” said Dick to Peterson.
“We’ll have to get out some way,” was the unsatisfactory response. “See, the water is coming in faster than ever.”
The lumberman was right, the water had been running in a tiny stream not larger than a child’s wrist; now it was pouring in steadily like a cataract. Soon the bottom of the hole had formed a pool several inches deep.
“Wait till it fills up and then swim out,” suggested Larry.
“No, thanks,” returned Dick. “We might be drowned by that operation.”
The hole was irregular in shape, about ten feet in diameter and fully twenty feet deep. What had caused the sudden sinking was a mystery until it was solved by the water in the pool suddenly dropping away into another hole still deeper. Then of a sudden the trio went down again, this time at an angle, to find themselves in a good-sized cave, where all was dark and uncertain.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 71
