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

“Wrecked?” demanded Jessie, her face paling, but her lips steady.

“That’s one of our dangers.”

“And that will mean that we must bedrowned?”

“We’ll hope not,” replied Halstead, forcinga smile. “Joe! Jed!”

Getting his friends where Mrs. Lester couldnot overhear, Halstead went on quickly:

“If we go to smash on the reef, rememberthat I’m to take the mother into the water.Joe, you take the elder daughter; Jed, you theyounger one. If we have to get into the waterwith women’s lives to save, remember the gloryof American seamen!”

“I’ll get ashore double, or not at all,” Joepromised, and he knew very well how littlelikelihood there was of reaching safety on land.

“I’ll prove I’m one of you,” promised Jed, though his face was ashen. Tom grabbed hishand long enough to give it a mighty squeeze.Then the young skipper moved to the starboardrail where he could watch best. His calculationshad proved correct. The “Meteor,” driftinghelplessly, was bound to strike on the reef.With fascinated gaze Tom watched the angrybreakers.

“We’re pretty near the finish, aren’t we?”asked Miss Jessie in his ear. The girl’s voicewas icily calm.

“I think we’re going to strike within two orthree minutes,” Tom responded, stonily. “Ifwe do, trust to us in the water, and try not tohamper us. I’ll try to get your mother ashore,Jed takes you, and Joe your sis – ”

Tom stopped short. Where on earth wasJoe? That youth had vanished from the deck.

“Why, I thought Joe was here, right readyfor his next duty,” cried Halstead, amazedly.“Where – ”

“He went below,” bawled back Jed. “Buthe’s not in the engine room.”

“Then he’s doing something that’s good, anyway,” spoke Tom, with whole faith in his triedcomrade.

Once more the young captain turned to watchthe line of breakers. The “Meteor” was deadlyclose now, her staunch hull in imminent danger.

“Here – quick!” roared Dawson’s heaviesttones.

His head showed in the hatchway. He washanding through a metal can.

“And I’ve got another one,” he shouted.“Thought there must be some reserve aboard,so I explored the spare lockers aft. There – got it?”

For Tom had snatched up a five-gallon canand was lifting it to the covered deck forward.The “Meteor” was rolling and pitching underthe lashing of the gale. Waves broke anddashed over that forward deck, but Joe, with asecond five-gallon can, followed. Both boyshad to crawl, feeling as though they were holdingon by their teeth.

“You pour – I’ll shield the inlet from water!”shouted Dawson, over all the roar of the elements.“It’s life or death in a minute, now, old chum!”

Well enough Tom knew that, but he saw alsothe one bare chance of getting all hands out oftheir awful plight. Dawson crawled around towindward of the inlet to the gasoline tank, shielding it as much as he could with his body.He unscrewed the cap, while Tom removed thesmaller top of one of the gasoline cans.

“Wait until the dash of the next wave ispast,” shouted Halstead. “Then I’ll pour.”

Though it took many precious moments, theycontrived to empty the can into the tank withoutgetting any salt water mixed with it.

“Now, another can!” breathed Joe tensely.

But Tom, raising his eyes to glance at thespray-ridden reef, answered quickly:

“Later. There isn’t a second to lose now.Hustle back!”

The dragging anchor retarded the bow ofthe boat somewhat. It was the stern thatseemed about to strike the reef. While Joeworked like lightning in the engine room Tomstood with both hands resting on the wheel. Hedreaded, every instant, to feel the bump andthe jar that should tell the news that the “Meteor”had struck.

“What do you want? Speed ahead?” bawledup Joe.

“As quickly as you can possibly give it,”Tom answered.

Still Halstead stared astern. It seemed asthough the reef were rising to meet the hullof the boat.

Throb! Chug! The motor was working, slowly. With an inward gasp of thanksgivingHalstead swung the bow around a bit to port.The engine, weaker than the gale, must dragthe anchor at least a short distance. Any attemptto raise it too soon might hold the boatto the danger line.

But Tom felt a sudden glow of happiness.The “Meteor” was forging slowly ahead.She would soon be safe, if the engine remainedstaunch. There was fearfully little oil in thetank, and he knew that the delivery of gas tothe ignition apparatus must be very slight.

Out of the engine room came Joe in a hurry, signaling to Jed to follow him. The two crawledout, over that wet, slippery forward deck ofthe rolling, pitching boat, and managed toempty a second can into the tank. The enginewas working better by the time that the pairregained the bridge deck.

“That’s enough to get us out of all trouble,”shouted Joe briefly. “We needn’t bother aboutthe third one aft until we’re well out of this.”

Captain Tom, watching the reef that theywere slowly leaving behind, soon decided thatit was time to haul in the anchor that had held.Joe and Jed accomplished this. The instantthat the drag was clear of the bottom the “Meteor”shot ahead.

“Hurrah!” yelled all three of the young seamen, when that new start came.

“We’re safe, now, aren’t we?” inquired Mrs.Lester, bending forward, her eyes shining.

“Unless there’s some new trouble with themotor,” Tom answered her, “we ought to beback at the Dunstan place in twenty minutes.”

Now, Jed brought the third can of gasolinefrom the locker aft. He and Joe succeeded inemptying it. If all went well, there was nowenough oil in the tank to carry the boat muchfurther than she had to go. Even at that, however, the boat was running with less gasolinethan she had ever carried in her tank before.

“There are Mr. Dunstan and his wife downat the pier, watching us,” announced MissJessie, as they came within eye-range of theDunstan place. “They must have been dreadfullyworried about us.”

“Now, I know what danger is, and just whatcourage and steadfastness men may show,” remarkedMiss Elsie, as they passed south of alittle headland that formed one of the sheltersof the Dunstan cove.

“And you know how much grit women mayshow,” rejoined Halstead, “for not once didyou give us any trouble.”

“Perhaps we were too badly frightened tomake trouble,” laughed Jessie Lester.

“Well, you didn’t any of you faint or havehysterics after you realized the danger wasover, did you?” retorted Captain Tom, laughing.“You can’t get away from the chargethat you all showed splendid courage as soon asyou realized that we were in real danger.”

“But you were planning to swim ashore withus from the reef,” said Mrs. Lester.

“I’m very, very thankful we didn’t have totry it,” replied Halstead, soberly. “It wouldhave been one of those one-in-a-hundred chancesthat I don’t like to have to take.”

Jed was busy, now, putting out the heaviestfenders along the port side of the hull. Evenin the cove the waves were running at a troublesomeheight. Yet Tom and Joe, by good teamwork at their respective posts, ran the “Meteor”in alongside the pier, almost without a jar.

“I’m thankful you’re all back safe,” calledMr. Dunstan, coming toward them. “I wouldhave been worried, Mrs. Lester, if I hadn’tknown all about the captain and crew that hadthe boat out.”

But when he heard about the hairbreadthescape from going on the reef off Muskeget Mr.Dunstan’s face went deathly pale. He askedthe ladies to return to the house, while heboarded the “Meteor” and faced the boys anxiously.

“What on earth can it mean that the gasolineran out?” he demanded. “Dawson, are youabsolutely sure that you had plenty of oil whenyou returned at daylight this morning?”