The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket: or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir

“Well, you won’t find Alvarez, so what’s theuse of arguing?” asked Dawson, slowly. “Heand his red-faced friend have skipped awayfrom this part of the country, I believe.”

“And Mr. Dunstan has only until Monday,”sighed Halstead. “And Ted to lose millions!Did you ever hear of a case of such tough luckbefore?”

Jed began to whistle sympathetically. He, too, would have given worlds to be able topounce upon the vanished Ted. For youngPrentiss was all loyalty. Having entered theDunstan employ, he felt all the sorrows of thefamily. The more he thought about the affairthe more restless the whistling boy became.

“How long are we tied up here for?” demandedJed, at last.

“Until the late afternoon train gets in fromBoston,” Tom answered, listlessly. “Mr. Dunstanis expecting Mr. Crane, his lawyer, along.If Mr. Crane doesn’t arrive we’ve got to comeover again to-morrow morning.”

Jed glanced at the clock before the steeringwheel.

“Hours to wait,” he went on, dismally.“Well, I’m going ashore to stretch my legs,if there’s no objection.”

“None at all,” Halstead replied, “if you’reback on time.”

Jed was over the rail in no time, whistling ashe went. A few minutes later Tom Halsteadfound himself bored by this inactive waiting, and so, as Joe had some cleaning to do on theengine, the young skipper decided to take astroll ashore.

In the village all looked so decidedly dull, this hot July afternoon, that Tom walked onthrough and beyond the little place. After hehad gone the better part of a mile he seatedhimself on a tumble-down bit of stone wall betweentwo big trees. It was cool here, andshady. The drone of insects soon made theboy feel drowsy.

“Here, there mustn’t be any of this,” mutteredHalstead, shaking himself awake. “Imustn’t fail to get back to the boat on time.”

After that he was wide awake. But thegreen, the quiet and the cool air made the youngcaptain feel that he did not care to leave thisspot until it was necessary. For perhaps fifteenminutes more he sat chewing at a wisp ofgrass and thinking – always of the missingheir.

Then the sound of a short little cough madehim look up. Some one was coming along theroad. That some one came in sight. Almostchoking with astonishment, Halstead wentbackward over the wall. It looked as thoughhe had fallen, but it was all part of his franticwish to get out of sight.

“Alvarez, by all that’s unbelievable!” hegasped, as he lay utterly still behind that wall.“It doesn’t look like him, but it’s his size, hiscarriage, his walk, his little tickling cough ashe inhales his cigarette!”

The man was coming nearer, walking at asteady though not rapid gait. Tom huggedhimself as close to the ground as he could, peeringbetween two stones in the wall. For aninstant, as the other went by, Halstead had agood glimpse of the fellow. Where Alvarezhad but a moustache, this man had a full blackbeard. Gone were the brown striped trousers, for this man wore a blue serge suit. But theface was swarthy; there was the same gleamin the dark eyes. Even the way of holdingthe fuming little cigarette was the same.

“It’s Alvarez, or his double, disguised,”breathed Halstead, frantic with joy. “I’ll jumpon him, and pin him to the earth!”

On swift second thought the excited boychanged his mind. It might serve a far biggerpurpose to follow this swarthy little rascal, ifhe could do so undetected.

Alvarez, apparently, wasn’t suspicions of beingtrailed, for he kept steadily on. Halsteadfollowed on the other side of the wall, ready todrop out of sight at the first sign of the other’sturning. When the wall ended the boy foundother shelter, and followed on. It was but ashort chase. A quarter of a mile further onthe Spaniard left the road, pushing his waythrough the bushes and undergrowth of a patchof woods until he came to a small, almost hiddencove. And in this cove, her stern withinstepping distance of the land, lay a yellow-hulledsteam launch.

Tom sank low behind the bushes, and peeredthrough. He could see all that followed.

“Pedro!” called Alvarez, softly.

A man who had been dozing up in a seat bythe bow of the boat now awoke and turned, displayingthe face of a negro. He was a big andstrong built fellow. And Tom, the instant heheard that low call from the bearded stranger, knew it to be Alvarez’s voice.

Pedro hurried to the stern. Some talk betweenthe two followed, but in tones so low thatHalstead could understand not a word of it, until the Spaniard, half turning away, finishedby saying:

“I’ll be back soon. Be ready – and be watchful.”

The negro nodded heavily as the Spaniardstarted away. But this time Tom Halsteadmade no effort to follow the swarthy one. Ifthe Spaniard was to return, that would not benecessary.

“I wonder how fast I can return to Nantucket, and then be ready to chase this craft when sheshows her nose outside?” wondered the boy.“For it’s five to one this launch will make forAlvarez’s hiding-place, and that is where TedDunstan is to be found. Yet – confound it all! – ifI give chase in the ‘Meteor,’ Alvarez certainlywon’t lead us to the place.”

It was a puzzling, an immense problem. Andwhatever was to be done must be decided uponinstantly. While Halstead still pondered, acheering sound came to his ears. “Whirr-ugh!Whirr-ugh!” The negro, in his former seatat the bow of the launch had proved his watchfulnessby going sound asleep and snoring!

“Oh! If I could only get through to Alvarez’shiding-place on this boat!” thought Tomwildly, his breath coming hard and fast. Notime was to be wasted in doing nothing. Assuringhimself that the negro was still soundlyasleep, Halstead stepped forward, cat-footed.

Still the black guardian of the boat slumbered.Tom, as he reached the water’s edge, prayed that nothing would disturb the fellow’ssleep. The launch was not a cabin affair, butthere was a covered deck at the bow, and, underit, a hatchway leading into a little cubby.As the negro sat sleeping, his legs crossedsquarely before the entrance to that cubby.Then Halstead edged around until he made surethat there was another little cubby under thestern-sheets of the launch.

“If I could only get in there and hide!”breathed the young skipper, fervently. Hardlyhad he formed the wish when he steppedstealthily to the boat. His eyes watchfully onthe negro, Tom gained the stern hatch. He bentdown before it to inspect the space beyond.The space in there was small, and much of ittaken up by the propeller shaft boxing. Itlooked like taking a desperate chance to tryto fold himself up in that tiny space.

“But this is a time to take desperatechances!” gritted the young motor boat captain.“And it’s the only chance I see that looksgood!”

Another glance at the snoring negro, andTom Halstead stealthily worked his feet inthrough the hatchway. His body followed. Hetwisted and wriggled until he had got himselfas far back into the limited space as was possible.His head was where he could gaze out intothe cockpit of the launch.

“I know just what a sardine feels like, anyway, after the packer gets through with it,”reflected the boy, dryly. He stretched a little,to avoid as much as possible the cramping of hisbody.

Then he had a wait of many minutes, thoughat last the hail of Alvarez was heard from theshore. It took a second call to rouse the sleepingPedro.

“Now, quick out of this,” ordered the Spaniard.“Get up the anchor. Then take yourplace by the engine.”

Alvarez himself went forward to the wheelat the bow. The launch was soon under way, moving at what appeared to be its usual speed, about six miles an hour.

“Neither one has seen me in here,” thoughtTom, tensely. “Oh, what huge luck if they gothrough the trip without seeing me!”

Though Halstead could not even guess it, from where he lay, the launch took a north-easterlycourse along the coast, and was presentlyabout two miles from shore.

“Pedro,” chuckled the Spaniard, at last, looking back at the negro who squatted by theengine, “if my own father saw me now wouldhe know me for Emilio Alvarez? Would he?”

“He’d be a wondahful smart man if he did,fo’ shuah,” grinned the negro.

“In this disguise I would hardly be afraidto walk about in Nantucket,” continued SeñorAlvarez. “I doubt if any of my enemies wouldrecognize me. They – ”

Alvarez’s lips shut suddenly with a snap.While he was speaking he had been lookingastern. Tom Halstead now squirmed as he sawthe Spaniard’s startled gaze fixed directly onhim.

“Pedro!” shouted the swarthy one. “Looksharp, man. There’s some one in that cubbyastern!”

Alvarez had started himself to leave the wheel.Then, realizing that the boat would run wildwithout some one at the helm, he pointed dramatically.

Though Halstead had trusted to the darknessand the shadow in that cubby, the discovery thathe dreaded had happened. Not willing to becaught in there, like a fox in a trap, he made alively scramble to get out. He was on his feetin the cockpit by the time that Pedro, staringas though at a ghost, leaped up and faced him.

“Grab the boy!” shouted Alvarez in glee.“Nab him and hold him fast. Pedro, you shallhave a present for this!”

As Halstead scrambled out he had looked forsome object with which to defend himself.There was nothing at hand. He was obligedto face his bigger assailant with nothing but hisfists.

“Keep off!” warned Halstead, throwing uphis guard.

As the negro leaped for him Tom shot outhis left fist, landing on the side of the blackman’s head. The blow had no effect, save thatit angered Pedro, who struck out with his ownright. It was a powerful blow. Halsteaddodged so that he received it only glancingly, but the act of dodging threw him off his balance.He toppled, then plunged swiftly overboard, sinking from sight.

“Stop the engine! I want him alive!”screamed Alvarez, leaping away from the wheel.

Pedro responded swiftly, stopping the speed, then reversing the engine briefly. The launchwas brought to, almost stationary, close tothe place where Tom Halstead had fallenoverboard.