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

“I’ll run back to the house and get in touchwith the police,” Mr. Dunstan shouted backover his shoulder.

Tom sprinted aft along the pier, throwing thestern-line aboard. He leaped aboard forwardwith the bowline, not stopping then to coil it.

Not even calling to Joe, whose head wasbarely six feet away, young Captain Tom Halsteadgave the bridge bellpull a single jerk. Asthe response sounded in the engine room alertJoe gave the engine slow speed ahead. Tomthrew the wheel over and the fine boat glidedout from her berth.

Two bells! Full speed ahead! The “Meteor”forged forward, gaining headway everymoment. The hunt for missing Ted Dunstanwas started in earnest.

CHAPTER IV – SIGHTING THE “PIRATE”

“How much speed do you want for thistrip?” asked Joe, poking his headup through the hatchway as soon asthe “Meteor” was running smoothly northward.

“On a hunt like this I think Mr. Dunstan willwant us to burn gasoline,” Tom answered.“Give her about all the speed she can make.”

“That means twenty-five miles – or more?”insisted Dawson.

“Twenty-five will be close enough to goingfast,” Tom replied.

Almost immediately the fast motor boat beganto leap through the water. Though the boatminded her helm sensitively, Halstead restedboth hands upon the wheel, watching intentlyahead.

“Hey! What you trying to do? Swamp us, with your wake?” demanded an irate fishermanin a dory, as they raced past him.

But they had gone only close enough to enablebig Michael, standing on the deck house, topeer at the inside of the dory.

Several other small craft without cabins theyran close to in the same manner, making surethat no stolen boy was on any of them.

Up near Great Point they encountered a cabinsloop. Michael, however, recognized a clergymanfriend as one of this party, so Halsteadpassed them with only a friendly toot from theauto whistle.

Then down around the east coast of Nantucketthey sped, further out to sea now, since inshoreno craft were observed. They kept on untilthe south coast, too, had been passed, but therewas no sign to gladden their eyes nor arousetheir suspicions. Next along the south shore ofthe island the “Meteor” raced, and on out toMuskeget Island. From this point they hadonly to round the latter island and steer straightback for the inlet where Mr. Dunstan’s pier lay.

“Sure, I don’t like to go back stumped likethis,” growled Michael.

“No more do I,” rejoined Tom. “Say, we’vegot daylight enough; I’m going to retrace ourwhole course and keep in closer to shore.”

Joe, who for some time had been on deck, nodded his approval. Cutting a wide sweep,Tom headed back, going now within a quarterof a mile of the shore.

“It begins to look,” hinted Joe, “as thoughwhoever is leading the young Dunstan heirastray hasn’t taken him off the island of Nantucketat all.”

“There are plenty of hiding places on Nantucket, aren’t there?” inquired Tom, turning tothe big coachman.

“Plenty,” nodded Michael, “if the rapscallionsknew their way about the old island. But,by the same token, the rascals would be in plentyof danger of being found by the constables.”

“Of course Mr. Dunstan is having the localofficers search,” pondered Tom aloud. “Hesaid he would. He can telegraph the mainlandfrom the island, too, can’t he, Michael?”

“Sure,” nodded the coachman.

“Then Mr. Dunstan must have waked upsome pretty big searching parties by this time, both on the island and on the mainland,” Halsteadconcluded. “But see here, Michael, whywouldn’t it be a good plan to put you ashore?You can telephone Mr. Dunstan and see ifthere’s any news.”

“And if there ain’t any,” suggested the Irishman,“I might as well be going home acrossthe island on foot, and keeping me eyesopen. I can ask questions as I go along, andmaybe be the first of all to find out any ralenews.”

“That’ll be the best plan of any,” approvedHalstead. “It begins to look more sure, everyminute, that we’re not going to need your finelot of muscle.”

At the lower end of the east coast of the islandTom remembered having seen a pier that wouldserve them for landing the Irishman. Theymade for that pier accordingly and Michaelleaped ashore.

“I’ll telephone and then come back withinsight,” the coachman called back to them, ashe started. “If ’tis good news I’m hearing, I’llthrow up me hat two or three times. If ’tis nonews, I’ll wave a hand.”

The “Meteor” then fell off, but kept to herbearings while ten minutes passed. ThenMichael appeared in sight from the shore. Hewaved one hand and signed to the boys to keepon their course.

“Too bad!” sighed Tom. “But it makes itmore certain than ever now, doesn’t it, Joe, thatsome real disaster has happened to young TedDunstan? It’s past the lad’s dinner time now.No healthy boy goes without either luncheon ordinner, unless there’s a big reason for it.”

“Unless Ted has merely gone to some friend’shome and has forgotten to notify his parents,”suggested Dawson.

“But Ted doesn’t strike me as the boy who’slikely to do that. He’s a fine little fellow, andI don’t believe he’d be guilty of being so inconsiderateas to leave home for hours withouttelling some one.”

They had the “Meteor” under full headwaynow. Tom, with one hand on the wheel, kept akeen lookout. They had run along some mileswhen Halstead gave a sudden gasp, made adive for the rack beside the wheel that held thebinoculars and called sharply:

“Take the wheel, Joe!”

With that Tom Halstead bounded down intothe engine room. Over at one of the openportholes he raised the marine glasses to hiseyes.

“What’s the matter?” called down Joe, filledwith the liveliest curiosity.

“Matter enough!” came his chum’s excitedrejoinder. “Don’t look when I tell you. Keepyour eyes on your course ahead. But you sawthat little pier over at port?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you noticed a man sitting there?”

“I did,” Joe admitted.

“When I first saw him,” Tom went on, showinghis animated face at the hatchway, “I didn’tthink much about him. But the second time Ilooked I thought I saw something that broughtback recollections. That was why I came downhere for a near-sighted peep through the glasses.The fellow couldn’t see me down here and soought not to suspect that we have noticed himparticularly.”

“But who is he?” cried Joe eagerly.

“Oh, he’s the right man, all right,” Tom retortedperhaps vaguely. “He’s got on eitherthe same pair or another pair just like ’em.”

“Pair? Of what?” demanded Joe.

“Trousers, of course, you dull old simpleton!”whipped out Halstead. “Joe, it’s thesame old pattern of brown, striped – ”

“The Span – ”

“The pirate, I call him,” growled Halstead, stepping up on deck and replacing the binocularsin their rack without another look ashore. Theywere rapidly leaving astern the solitary oneseated against the pier rail.

“Do you think – ” began Joe, but Tom gavehim no chance to finish.

“I don’t think anything,” broke in Halstead, alive with energy. “I am going to know – that’swhat.”

Tom took the wheel himself, swinging thecraft around a point of land just ahead.