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

Tom, watching the owner’s face, felt that thatgentleman had first looked somewhat alarmed, then much more annoyed.

“There’s something that doesn’t please himand I shouldn’t think it would,” the young captainreflected. “Yet, whatever it is he doesn’tintend to tell me, just yet, at all events. I hopeit’s nothing in the way of big mischief thatthreatens.”

“Of course I’d suggest, sir,” Tom observedfinally, “that Dawson and myself sleep aboardnights.”

“You may as well,” nodded the owner, andagain Tom thought he saw a shadow of worrimentin the other’s eyes.

“Are you going to let Bouncer stay aboard, too, sir?” Tom asked.

“Ordinarily I think I’ll let the dog sleep atthe house nights,” replied Mr. Dunstan, immediately after looking as though he were tryingto dismiss some matter from his mind.

Joe, too, had been keen enough to scent thefact that, though Mr. Dunstan tried to appearwholly at his ease, yet something was giving thatgentleman a good deal of cause for thought.Mr. Dunstan even went aft, presently, seatinghimself in one of the armchairs and smokingtwo cigars in succession rather rapidly.

“We’ve put something into his mind thatdoesn’t lie there easily,” hinted Joe.

“But, of course, it’s none of our business unlesshe chooses to tell us,” replied Halstead.

A little later Joe Dawson went down into theengine room to get the best reasonable work outof the motor. Even at racing speed the “Meteor’s”bow wave was not a big one. Therewas almost an absence of spray dashing overthe helmsman. Tom did not need to put on oilskins,as he had often done on the “Sunbeam.”The “Meteor’s” bow lines were so beautiful andgraceful, so well adapted to an ideal racingcraft, that the bridge deck in ordinary weatherwas not a wet place.

As they neared cool, wind-swept Nantucket,Mr. Dunstan came forward once more, to pointout the direction of his own place. This lay onthe west side of the island. As they ran incloser the owner pointed out the mouth of a cove.

“We’ve come over in two hours,” announcedMr. Dunstan, consulting his watch as theyneared the cove.

“Now that we understand the boat and theengine,” answered Tom, “we ought to go overthe course in less than an hour and a half.”

“Fine!” pronounced the owner. “That’swhat the boat was built for. Do that and I canmake the trip to my Boston offices every weekday – if I decide that it’s best to do so.”

Tom noted a certain hesitancy about those lastfew words. Again he felt sure that some mysterythreatened the owner’s peace of mind.

Into the cove and up alongside the pier the“Meteor” was run. From here large and handsomegrounds and a huge white house, the latterwell back from the water, were visible.

“We’ll leave Bouncer on board for the present,”said Mr. Dunstan. “I’ll take you up tothe house so you can get used to the place. Byand by we’ll have lunch. And I want to showyou my boy, Ted.”

CHAPTER III – THE LUCKIEST BOY IN THE WORLD

Hardly had Mr. Dunstan’s new boatcrew followed him ashore when awhooping yell sounded from up theroad that led to the house. Then into sightdashed a boy mounted on a pony. On they cameat a full gallop, the boy reining up with a jerkwhen barely six feet from his father.

“Careful, Ted!” warned Mr. Dunstan laughingly.“Don’t ride me down. You’re notyet through with your use for a father, youknow.”

“I was trying to show you, dad, how Sheridanand I are learning our paces together,” repliedthe youngster. He was a rather slightly builtboy, with clustering yellow hair and gray eyes.He wore a khaki suit and a sombrero modeledafter the Army campaign hat. Even his saddlewas of the Army type, being a miniature McClellanin model.

Tom liked this lad after the first look. Therewas something whole-souled about this little fellowwith the laughing eyes. And, though hehad been reared in a home of wealth, there wasnothing in the least snobbish in the way hesuddenly turned to regard the Motor Boat Clubboys.

“Ted, Captain Halstead and his friend, Dawson,”said Mr. Dunstan. “You’ll be glad toknow that they’ve got the ‘Meteor’ in runningorder again.”

Ted was careful to dismount before he offeredhis hand, with graceful friendliness, toeach of the boys.

“You’ve made dad happy if you’ve got hisboat to running again,” laughed Master Ted.

“And you? Aren’t you fond of motor boating?”queried Tom.

“Oh, yes; after a fashion, I suppose,” repliedthe Dunstan hopeful deliberately. “Butthen, you see, I’m cut out for a soldier. I’m togo into the Army, you know, and anything to dowith salt water smacks a bit too much of theNavy.”

All of which remarkable declaration MasterTed made as though he imagined these new acquaintancesunderstood all about his futureplans.

“The Army is fond of the Navy, of course,”the lad added by way of explanation. “Yet, toa soldier, the Army is the whole thing.”

“Oh, I see,” smiled Captain Tom, though intruth he didn’t “see” in the least.

“Yes, Ted’s to be a soldier. He’s doomed – or destined – tothat career,” nodded Mr. Dunstangood-humoredly. “There’s a whole longstory to that, Halstead. Perhaps you and Dawsonshall hear the story later. But for nowwe’d better get up to the house.”

Master Ted evidently took this as a hint thatthe subject was to be pursued no further forthe present, for he merely said in a very graciousway:

“Of course, I shall see you again. So nowI’ll take myself off – with Sheridan.”

Resting his left hand through the bridle andgripping the pony’s mane, Master Ted used hisright hand to strike the pony a smart blow overthe rump. As the pony bounded forward thelad made a flying leap into the saddle. It wassuch a flying start as almost to startle Tom andJoe.

“He rides like a cowboy,” declared Tom admiringly, watching the mounted youngster outof sight.

“He has need to, I fancy,” replied Mr. Dunstangravely. “That is, since he’s going intothe Army, for Ted wouldn’t be satisfied with beinganything less than a cavalryman.”

As Mr. Dunstan’s last words or the tone inwhich they were uttered seemed to dismiss thesubject, Halstead and his chum knew that theywere not to be further enlightened for the present.They followed their employer up to thehouse.

He took them into a roomy, old-fashionedlooking library, with heavy furniture, and, excusinghimself, left them. He soon returned tosay:

“The family are now at luncheon, all exceptMaster Ted, so I have given instructions to haveluncheon served to us in here presently.”

In half an hour the meal was before Mr. Dunstanand the boys. It tasted rarely good aftertheir hasty snatches of food aboard the boat.When it was over Mr. Dunstan took a chair onthe porch, lighted a cigar and said:

“I’m going to take it easy for a while.Would you like to look about the grounds?”

Tom and his chum strolled about. They foundit a delightful country place, covering someforty acres. There was a large stable, a carriagehouse and a garage which contained abig touring car. There were greenhouses, apoultry place and a small power house thatsupplied electric light to the buildings andgrounds.

“It looks like the place of a man who hasenough money, but who doesn’t care about makinga big splurge,” commented Joe.

“It also looks like the place of an easy-goingman,” replied Halstead. “I wonder how a manlike Mr. Dunstan came to get the motor-boatcraze?”

“Oh, I imagine he likes to live out on thisbeautiful old island, and merely keeps the boatas a means of reaching business,” suggestedDawson.

After an hour or more they returned to thehouse to find Mr. Dunstan placidly asleep in thesame porch chair. So the boys helped themselvesto seats, kept quiet and waited. Theywere still in doubt as to whether their employerwanted to use the boat later in the day. Theirswas a long wait, but at last Mr. Dunstan awoke, glanced at his watch and looked at the boys.

“Becoming bored?” he smiled.

“Oh, no,” Tom assured him, “but I’ve hadhard work to keep from falling sound asleep.”

“Have you seen Master Ted lately?”

“Not since we first met him down by thepier.”