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

“That’s a youngster with quite a picturesquefuture ahead of him, I imagine,” continued Mr.Dunstan. “I call him the luckiest boy alive.Perhaps he is not quite that, but he is going tobe a very rich man if he follows a certaincareer.”

“It must be an Army career, then,” hintedHalstead.

“It is, just that. And I suppose I might aswell tell you the story, if it would interest youany. A lot of people know the story now, sothere’s no harm in repeating it.”

Their host paused to light a cigar before heresumed:

“Ours used to be a good deal of a militaryfamily. In fact, every generation supplied twoor three good soldiers. There were five Dunstans, all officers, serving in the War of theRevolution. There were four in the War of1812, two in the War with Mexico and two inthe Civil War. We gradually fell off a bit, yousee, in the numbers we supplied to the Army.The two who served in the Civil War wereuncles of mine. My father didn’t go – wasn’tphysically fit. There were three of us brothers,Gregory, Aaron and myself. Both were olderthan I. Aaron would have made a fine soldier, but he was always weakly. The fact that hecouldn’t wear the uniform almost broke hisheart. Yet Aaron had one fine talent. He knewhow to make money almost without trying. Infact, he died a very rich man.

“Greg, on the other hand, was what I expectyou would call the black sheep of the family. Hewent to Honduras years ago. He’s a planter, doing fairly well there, I suppose. He’s prettywild, just as he used to be. He’s always gettingmixed up in the many revolutions that they havedown in that little republic of Honduras. Oneof these days I’m afraid he’ll be shot by a fileof government soldiers for being mixed up insome new revolutionary plot.

“My brother Aaron never married. Greghas two daughters, but no sons. Ted is my onlyson and Aaron just worshiped the lad as thelast of the race. Aaron wanted Ted to becomea soldier and keep the family in the Army. Theyoungster was willing enough, but I didn’twholly fancy it. However, my brother Aarondied a little while ago and I found he had fixedthe matter so that Ted will have to be a soldier.”

“How could your brother do that?” askedTom.

“Why, you see, under the will, brother Gregis let off with one hundred thousand dollars andI get the same. But there’s a proviso in thewill that if, within ninety days from Aaron’sdeath, Ted appears in probate court with me orother guardian, and there both Ted and myselfpromise that he shall be reared for the UnitedStates Army, then half a million dollars is tobe paid over to myself or other guardian, intrust for the boy. The income from that halfmillion is to be used to rear and educate him.But Ted, as a part of his promise, must makeevery effort to get himself appointed a cadet atWest Point.”

“Some other boy might get the cadetshipaway from him,” suggested Joe Dawson.

“In case Ted simply can’t win a West Pointcadetship,” replied Mr. Dunstan, “then, at theage of twenty-one, his promise will oblige him toenlist in the Army as a private soldier and doall in his power to win an officer’s commissionfrom the ranks.”

“Even then, there’s a chance to fail,” hintedTom.

“If the lad fails absolutely to get a commissionin the Army,” responded Mr. Dunstan, “hewill lose a lot of money – that’s all. There isanother fund, amounting to two and a half milliondollars, that is to be kept at interest untilthe young man is thirty. By that time themoney, through compound interest, will bemuch more than doubled. On Ted’s thirtiethbirthday all that huge sum of money is to beturned over to him if he has won, somehow, acommission as an officer of the Army. If he hastried, but failed, then the money is to be devotedto various public purposes.

“But if Ted fails to go into probate court ontime, with myself or other guardian, and havethe promise made a matter of record, thenhe loses everything. In that case I get thesame hundred thousand dollars as otherwise, but Greg, instead of receiving only ahundred thousand is to get a cool milliondollars.”

“Isn’t your brother Gregory likely to contestsuch a will?” asked Tom thoughtfully.

“The will provides that, if he does contest, heshall lose even his hundred thousand dollars,”Mr. Dunstan replied. “I have had great lawyersgo all over the will, but they can’t find asingle flaw through which it can be broken. Yousee, the will is right in line with what lawyerscall ‘public policy.’ It’s altogether to the publicinterest to have the boys of our best old families,as of the best new ones, brought up with theidea that, they’re to give their lives to the serviceof their country. So the will is bound tostand against any contest, and if Greg or myselftried to break it we’d only cheat ourselvesout of goodly sums of money.”

“Then Master Ted, of course,” pursued Tom,“has been or is going before the probate courtto have the promise recorded.”

“To-day is Tuesday,” answered Mr. Dunstan.“The ninety days are up next Monday. On thatday there will be a short session of probate courtand Ted and I are going to be on hand.”

“Is this the first time probate court has beenin session since the will was read, sir?” askedHalstead.

“Oh, no,” replied their employer in his mosteasy-going tone. “But there was no hurry andI wanted to give the lawyers plenty of time toconsider the matter. Next Monday, beingwithin the required ninety days, will do as wellas any other time.”

“Well, of all the easy-going men!” gaspedTom inwardly. “To think, with such a big fortuneat stake, of dilly-dallying until the very lastday of all!”

“So, you see, Ted really is a very lucky boy,”finished Mr. Dunstan.

“I should say he is!” breathed Halstead, hisface flushing at the thought. He would havebeen happy over a West Point cadetship withoutany enormous reward.

“The luckiest boy I ever heard of!” ventedJoe, his nerves a-thrill over this story of one ofFortune’s greatest favorites. “No wonder yourson, sir, is so eager about being a soldier.”

“Is your brother Gregory in this countrynow?” asked Tom slowly.

“Not to the best of my knowledge,” almostdrawled their employer. “The last I heard ofhim he was still on his plantation in Honduras, probably hatching more revolutionary plots andgiving the government a good excuse for sendingits soldiers to shoot him one of these days.But I do know that, for a while, Greg had Americanlawyers hard at work trying to find someway to smash Aaron’s will. They gave it up, though, and so did Greg, after hearing from methat Master Ted was wild to follow a soldier’scareer.”

Both boys were silent for some time. Yet, ifthey did no talking, their thoughts very nearlyran riot. To them it seemed that Ted Dunstan’slot in life lay in all the bright places of gloryand fortune. How they would have relishedsuch a grand chance!

“By the way,” said Mr. Dunstan, risingslowly and stretching, “I haven’t seen theyoungster in hours. I think I’ll locate him andbring him around here.”

He went into the house. Within the next tenminutes two of the men servants left the house, running hurriedly out of sight in different directions.At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Dunstanhimself appeared, looking actually worried.

“We can’t seem to find Ted anywhere,” heconfessed uneasily. “The young man hasn’tbeen seen since he stabled his pony at half-pasttwelve. I thought he would lunch with Mrs.Dunstan; she thought he was lunching with us.We’ve sent all about the grounds, we’ve telephonedthe neighbors and the town, and all withoutavail. The pony is in the stable and theyoung man seems to have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” repeated Tom Halstead, springing to his feet, electrified by the news.“Don’t you think it more likely, sir, he’s beenhelped to disappear?”

“You think he may have been spiritedaway?” demanded Mr. Dunstan. “But why?”

“Haven’t you yourself told us, sir, that itwould be worth some one’s trouble, to the extentof nine hundred thousand dollars, to havethe boy vanish?” asked Tom breathlessly.

“You suspect my brother?”

“Pardon me, sir, for forgetting that GregoryDunstan is your brother,” Tom went on whitening.“Yet that talk about disabling the ‘Meteor’!The man who looked like a Spaniard – butthe people of Honduras are of Spanish descent.Why should anyone want to disable the‘Meteor,’ unless to stop a pursuit by water?You yourself have told us that your brother hasa weakness for mixing up in revolutions downin Honduras.”

All this Halstead had shot out jerkily, thinkingeven faster than he spoke.

“But at this very moment Greg is down inHonduras,” objected Mr. Dunstan.

“Even if he is, wouldn’t friends of his, whomay want funds for a new revolution, see howeasy it was to get the money through gettingTed out of the way?” asked Tom quickly.“Grant that your brother is wholly innocent ofany plot about your son. Wouldn’t supposedfriends of his perhaps be willing to spirit theboy away, knowing that if the big money prizewent to your brother, Gregory Dunstan couldafterwards be persuaded to throw his fortuneinto some new revolutionary cause?”

“Yes, yes, it’s all possible – horribly possible,”admitted Mr. Dunstan, covering his facewith his hands. “And Greg, who is a citizenof Honduras now, has even had aspirations inthe way of becoming president of Honduras.Halstead, I will admit that I had even thoughtof the possibility of some just such attempt asthis, and yet in broad daylight I dismissed it allas idle dreaming. And now Ted’s gone – heavenonly knows what has become of him!”

“Of course,” put in Joe coolly, “it may turnout that the youngster just went fishing. Hemay walk in any moment for his supper.”

“But he went without his lunch,” retortedMr. Dunstan. “That was wholly unlike Ted.”

“The ‘Meteor’ may be disabled now,” brokein Tom. “If she isn’t, won’t it be more thanwell worth while to get the craft out and goscouting through these waters?”

“Yes, yes!” cried Mr. Dunstan. “Come on, boys.”

As they raced down through the groundsthey espied the coachman returning.

“Come along, Michael!” shouted Mr. Dunstan.Then, to the boys he explained:

“If the ‘Meteor’ is fit to go out, Michael cango along with you. If there’s any fighting he’sa heavy-fisted, bull-necked fellow who’d face aregiment of thieves.”

Joe had the key of the engine-room hatchwayout in his hand before they reached the pier.In a jiffy he had the sliding door unlocked, almostleaping down into the engine room. Withswift hands he set the engine in motion.

“All right here,” he reported, while Bouncer, just liberated, frisked about his master’s legsand then whined.

“Keep the bulldog aboard, too, Michael,”called Mr. Dunstan, as he stepped ashore.“Start at once, Captain Halstead. Go as farand wide as you can and hail any craft youthink may have news. Michael, I rely upon youto use your fists if there’s need.”

“If there’s the chanst!” grinned the Irishmanreadily.