The Motor Boat Club in Florida: or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp

Putting both hands to his mouth, Skipper Tom shouted:

“Here, you, Ham!”

“Yassuh!” shouted Mockus, dancing two or three reel steps.

“This is your especial treat! Hog the first look for yourself. I’m bringing you, tied hand and foot, the Ghost of Alligator Swamp!”

CHAPTER XVI

HAM PROMISES TO BE BRAVE HEREAFTER

IT was Joe Dawson, though, who caught the first glimpse of the “passengers” as the motor boat ran in closer, while Tom was busy with the motor.

“The ghost?” yelled Joe. “I should say so!”

Then everybody struggled for a look into the boat. Besides the Tremaine party there were fourteen Florida men whom Jeff had brought in from the nearest community. Two of them were peace officers.

“Ease off the bow, Joe, and get the bow line for yourself,” grinned Tom. “But, say! Aren’t they a handsome lot?”

A wild cheer went up from all hands.

The bow line was quickly made fast, after which Tom threw off a stern line, which Jeff caught and tied.

Then, amid a very babel of exclamations and questions, young Halstead stepped out onto the pier, Joe being the first to grip his hand.

Henry Tremaine secured the next chance, remarking, while his eyes twinkled mistily:

“Captain Halstead, I owe you an apology.”

“For what, sir?”

“For being so officious as to summon any help. But I admit that I didn’t quite know you boys. I think I do, now.”

“However it was done, it was splendid!” cried Ida Silsbee, eagerly, presenting her small, gloved hand to the young captain.

“Splendid? I never heard of anything like it!” uttered Dixon, as he, too, pressed forward, holding out his hand.

Both his speech and his act were for Ida’s benefit. Oliver Dixon had the good sense to know that any slight offered the motor boat youth, at this time, would redound against his own chances as suitor with Miss Silsbee.

Tom took the Dixon hand limply, looking straight into the young man’s eyes so searchingly that even the brazen Oliver had difficulty in maintaining anything like composure.

“I’ll keep up the pretense with him,” thought Halstead, “until I’m ready to unmask him.”

“Captain Tom,” exclaimed Oliver Dixon, eagerly, “you’re a wonder – a twentieth century knight!”

Sim, at this moment, was being hauled out of the boat by three of the Florida men present. Sim’s sullen, baleful eyes sought Dixon’s, causing that young man to quail, though just at that instant none of the Tremaine party noted the episode.

“Say, I reckon we know all these fellows,” announced one of the local officers. “Sim and Jig are two of the worst men that ever got into the Everglades. We know enough, too, about Jabe and Kink to keep ’em busy fo’ a long time explaining their records.”

“Then you can take charge of them all as criminals wanted by the courts?” inquired Halstead.

“Yep; I reckon we can.”

“Good enough, then; you can have ’em on the old charges, and I won’t have to stay in Florida, forever and day, to be a witness.”

“There is no use staying here,” declared Henry Tremaine. “Bring prisoners and all up to the house. It’s a lot more comfortable talking where there are chairs.”

Joe walked on one side of his chum as they bent their steps away from the pier. To aggravate Oliver Dixon’s jealous rage, Ida Silsbee also managed to keep close to the young skipper.

On the broad porch the four prisoners were lined up. Uncle Tobey was also brought out and added to them, the local officers being satisfied that the aged negro voodoo doctor had acted as a go-between for the gang.

“And this is the whole of the Ghost of Alligator Swamp, laid by the heels,” chuckled Henry Tremaine, appreciatively.

Then Tom, of course, had to tell the story of his strange adventure. He told it with extreme modesty, yet even the dullest account was bound to place him higher than ever in the estimation of all his hearers save Joe. Young Dawson had an opinion of his chum that nothing could increase.

The three who had been gagged were now allowed the use of their tongues, but did not abuse their privilege. Sim ordered them all to “shet up and keep shet,” which advice they followed to the letter.

It was a big feeding contract that devolved upon the Tremaines. In the house, however, were plenty of provisions. With the help of some of the Florida men a meal big enough for all was prepared before dark. Even the prisoners were fed. Then the local visitors were ready to take the collective “ghost” to the nearest jail, many miles off through the forest. Henry Tremaine, however, after paying all liberally for their trouble, further engaged six of the natives to remain behind.

“For,” he announced, “we came here to hunt alligators, and that’s what we’re going to do. Now, you six men can be towed by us in another boat when we go into the Everglades. The presence of such a party, armed, will be enough to keep any friends of the prisoners that may be lurking in the big swamp country from showing us any hostile attentions.”

The evening was spent with some further accounts of Tom’s trip into the Everglades. When it came time to retire it was decided to let the six Florida men stand guard over the bungalow, one at a time, through the night.

By daylight the entire party was up again. With the first glimpses of light the six Florida men had begun a further exploration of the country thereabouts. Two of them came upon the battered, though serviceable, old boat that Sim and his crew had evidently used. Some of the others found a covered hiding-place in the woods where the Everglades rascals had hidden much ghostly paraphernalia. Among this stuff was a jointed bamboo “ghost,” covered with cotton cloth – the same thing that had frightened Ham Mockus so badly in the kitchen.

“Now, do you see what you were shivering about?” demanded Henry Tremaine, laughingly.

“Ah reckon Ah’s done bin a plumb idiot,” admitted Ham, shamefacedly.

“Not any bigger idiot than folks hereabouts have been during the last three years,” rejoined Tremaine. “Nor any bigger idiot than people have always been, all over the world. But, Ham, my lad, take a bit of advice: whenever you hear of a sure-enough, really-and-truly ghost, just get out on its trail with a shot-gun. Don’t lose any time shivering, and don’t waste any time until you’ve brought that ghost into camp.”

“No, sah, Ah won’t,” promised Ham, solemnly.

“He’ll run and hide his head the very next moan he hears on a dark night,” laughed Jeff Randolph.

“W’ut yo’ talkin’ erbout, Marse Jeff?” demanded Ham, with a show of indignation. “Jes’ a plain, or’nary niggah?”

Dixon was on hand again, trying to be extremely pleasant to young Captain Halstead.

“I mustn’t let him see that I suspect or know anything,” thought Tom. “I mustn’t scare Dixon away from this party until I’m able to place Officer Randolph’s story right under Henry Tremaine’s nose.”

“I’m very glad to see that you’re so nice with young Halstead,” Ida Silsbee found chance to remark to Oliver Dixon.

“Why shouldn’t I be pleasant with him?” asked Dixon, pretending surprise.

“I was afraid you had taken an unaccountable dislike to the boy.”

“Much to the contrary,” remarked the young man, smiling. “I always admire great pluck and an uncommon amount of brains.”