Harrie Hancock - The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket - or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir

“Pair? Of what?” demanded Joe.

“Trousers, of course, you dull old simpleton!”whipped out Halstead. “Joe, it’s thesame old pattern of brown, striped – ”

“The Span – ”

“The pirate, I call him,” growled Halstead, stepping up on deck and replacing the binocularsin their rack without another look ashore. Theywere rapidly leaving astern the solitary oneseated against the pier rail.

“Do you think – ” began Joe, but Tom gavehim no chance to finish.

“I don’t think anything,” broke in Halstead, alive with energy. “I am going to know – that’swhat.”

Tom took the wheel himself, swinging thecraft around a point of land just ahead.

“Look back, Joe. This shuts us out from thesight of that striped pirate, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” nodded Dawson.

Tom shut off the speed, adding:

“Stand ready, Joe, to use speed or wheel, andkeep her about so-so. I’m going to lower thedingey into the water and row ashore. I’ll riga line to her stern, so you can haul her back.Don’t bother to get the small boat up at thedavits. Just make her fast astern. Andthen – ”

“Wait here for you,” guessed Joe.

“No, as soon as you get the dingey made fast, put on headway and run the boat back to Mr.Dunstan’s pier. Report to him, telling him justwhat I’m doing and assure him I won’t be afraidto telephone if I learn anything worth while.I’ll get over to his place as soon as I can, laterin the evening.”

Tom got the small boat into the water, leftone end of a small rope in Joe’s hands androwed somewhat more than a hundred feet tothe beach. From there he waved his hand. Joebegan to haul in on the line. Within thirty feetof the beach the woods began; Halstead wasquickly lost to his chum’s sight.

Full darkness came on while Tom was stillin the woods heading cautiously south. As hehastened along, making little or no noise, Halsteadwondered what he would do with the manin case he discovered him to be really one ofthe pair who had sat in the seat ahead on thetrain.

“I suppose I’d better wait and make up mymind after I’m sure it is the same fellow,” Tomconcluded.

The young skipper did not, at any time on thisswift walk, move far from the shore line. Atlast he came to the edge of the woods, a veryshort distance from the pier he was seeking.There was still a man there, seated on the railof the pier. There were some bushes, too, to aidin shielding the boy’s forward progress if heused care. Tom went down, almost flat, thencrept forward, moving swiftly, silently, betweenbushes.

At last he was near enough to be sure of hisman, trousers and all. It was the same manHalstead had seen on the train. The “pirate”was at this moment engaged in rolling a cigarette.

The slight, swarthy stranger rolled hiscigarette up nicely, moistening the edgeof the paper, stuck the thing between hislips, lighted the tobacco and began to smoke inevident enjoyment.

“That’s my party, all right,” quivered Tom.“And now I’ve found him what on earth am Igoing to do with him?”

That was a new poser. Halstead had been sointent on identifying his suspect that, now herecognized him, he must figure out what wasto be done.

“If the fellow is all right he ought to haveno objections to going along with me and answeringquestions. If he won’t do that” – hereTom’s eyes began to flash – “I believe I’ll makehim. This is a business that calls for sternmeasures. This fellow belongs to the crowdthat must know all about Ted Dunstan’s disappearance.”

Yet, to look at him, one would hardly suspectthe swarthy man leaning against the pier railof being a conspirator. As he smoked he appearedto be wholly at peace with himself andwith the world. He did not seem to have a careon earth.

As he still crouched behind a bush, watchingthe nearby fellow in the dark, an impulse ofmischief came to Tom Halstead. He rememberedthat night prowling about the “Meteor”over at Wood’s Hole, and he remembered howBouncer had frightened this same man.

“Gr-r-r-r!” sounded Tom suddenly from behindthe bush. “Gr-r-r-r! Woof! Woof!”

It was a splendid imitation of the growl andbark of a bulldog. At the same instant Tommade a semi-spring through the bush.

The “pirate” uttered a wordless howl offright. He lurched, attempted to recover himselfand leap at the same instant, and —

Splash! There was another howl of terroras the man slipped over backward, then, head-first, struck the water at the side of the pier.

“Help! I drown!” came in a muffled voice, and a new note of terror sounded on the night.

Now drowning anyone was as far from TomHalstead’s mind as could be. With an upwardbound he sprinted out onto the pier, bendingunder the rail close to where the frightened onewas making huge rings on the water in hisstruggle to keep up.

In his efforts the fellow reached one of thepiles of the pier, hanging to it in mortal terror.

“Help, help, kind sir!” he pleaded hoarsely.“Not a stroke do I swim. Pull me out before Idrown.”

Throwing himself upon the pier, Tom bentdown with both hands.

“Here, catch hold,” he hailed. “You’re inno danger. I’ll pull you out all right.”

It was some moments before Tom could persuadehis “pirate” to let go that frantic clutchat the pile. But at length Halstead drew hisdripping suspect up onto the boards of thepier.

“Where is that terrible, that miser-r-rabledog!” panted the swarthy one, glaring abouthim.

“That’s all right,” Tom answered composedly.“There isn’t any dog.”

“But – but I heard him,” protested the other, still nervous, as he stared suspiciously aroundhim. “The wr-r-retched animal sprang for me.His teeth almost grazed my leg.”

Such was the power of imagination – a finetribute to Tom’s skill as a mimic.

“Aren’t you thinking of the other night, overat Wood’s Hole, when you tried to get aboardthe ‘Meteor’ to wreck the engine?”

Halstead shot this question out with disconcertingsuddenness. The young skipper lookedstraight, keenly, into the other’s eyes, standingso that he could prevent the stranger’s suddenbolt from the pier.

“I? What do you talk about?” demanded theforeigner, pretending astonishment.

“Oh, I know all about you,” nodded Tom.“You’re the party.”

“Be careful, boy! You insult me!” cried theother angrily.

“That’s all right, then,” Tom went on coolly.“Now maybe I’m going to insult you a littlemore. The trouble is, I need information, andyou’re the best one to give it to me. Where’sTed Dunstan?”

“I – I – you – ” stammered the foreigner.“What do I know about Ted Dunstan? No, no,no! You are wrong. I have not seen the boy – donot know him.”

“Yet you appear to know that he is a boy,”insisted Tom sternly. “Come, now, if you won’ttalk with me you’d better walk along with me, and we’ll find some one you’ll be more willingto answer.”

“How? I walk with you? Boy, do not be afool,” retorted the swarthy one angrily. “Ishall not walk with you. I do not like yourcompany.”

“I’m not sure that I like yours, either,” retortedthe boy. “But there are times when Icannot afford to be particular. Come, whyshould you object to walking along with me?All I propose is that we find the nearest constableand that you answer his questions. Theconstable will decide whether to hold you ornot.”

“Step aside,” commanded the swarthy manimperiously. Full of outraged dignity he attemptedto brush past the young skipper. ButTom Halstead, both firm and cool, now that hismind was made up, took a grip on the fellow’sleft arm.

“Take your hand off! Let me go!” screamedthe fellow, his eyes ablaze with passion. “Outof my way, idiot, and take yourself off!”