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

Tom now held him helpless, kneeling on him.

“What were you trying to fish out of thatjacket pocket?” demanded the young motor boatcaptain, thrusting his own hand in. He drewout something and held it up briefly – a claspknife.

“A coward’s tool!” uttered Tom, his voiceringing scornfully. Then he threw the claspknife far out so that it splashed in the water.“Why don’t you cultivate a man’s muscle andfight like a man, instead of toting around thingslike that? Come, get up on your feet.”

Bounding up, Halstead yanked the other upright.In a twinkling the swarthy man brokefrom him, sprinting off the pier.

“You haven’t learned to run right, either,”grinned Halstead, dashing after the “pirate”and gripping a hand in his collar.

That brought them facing each other again.How the swarthy one glared at his resoluteyoung captor! They were about of a height, these two, and might have weighed about thesame. But the man possessed nowhere near thestrength of this sea-toughened boy.

“Now see here,” spoke Tom more pleasantly,“I’m doing what I think is right or I wouldn’tventure to be so rough. Walk along with mesensibly, until we can find out where a constablelives. I’ve got the best of you and you realizeI can do it again. But I don’t want to be roughwith you. It goes against the grain.”

The swarthy one’s only answer was to glareat the young skipper with a look full of hate.

Tom suddenly changed his tone.

“I know what you’re thinking of, myman,” he cried tauntingly. “You are justthinking to yourself what a fine time you’dhave with me if you had me down in Honduras – whereyour friends do things in a differentway!”

The taunt told, for the stranger’s eyesgleamed with malice.

“Ah, in good Honduras!” he hissed. “Yes,if I had you there, and – ”

He stopped as suddenly as he had begun.

“That’s just what I wanted to know,” mockedHalstead. “Honduras is your country, and nowI know to a dot why you’re interested in havingTed Dunstan vanish and stay vanished for awhile. Come along, now. We’ll keep right onuntil we find that constable!”

Tom seized the stranger’s right arm in earnestnow. The other held back, as though hewould resist, but suddenly changed his mind.

“You are somewhat the stronger – withhands,” he said in an ugly tone. “So I shall gowith you. But perhaps you will much regretwhat you are doing to-night.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Tom jeered cheerily. “Atall events I’m doing the best I know how. AndI’m glad you’re not going to make any fuss. Ihate to be cranky with anyone.”

The place to which the pier belonged looked, from what Tom had been able to see of it, likea run-down coast farm. Away up on a hill tothe left were a dilapidated old farm house andother buildings. Halstead feared, though, thatthe stranger might have friends up at that houseand so decided to keep on through the woods atthe right.

Before long they struck a fairly well definedroad through the forest, a road that lookedas though it might lead to somewhere in particular.

“We’ll keep right on along this road, if youdon’t mind,” said the boy. He kept now only afair hold of the other’s wrist. As the swarthyone offered no opposition, they made passablygood speed over the road. But Tom, though helooked unconcerned, was wholly on the alert forany sudden move on the part of his captive.

“If I find I’m wholly in the wrong,” saidTom pleasantly, after they had gone at least aquarter of a mile in this fashion, “there isn’tanyone in the whole United States who’d bemore glad to make a complete apology.”

“But that will not save you from trouble,”breathed the swarthy one angrily. “The lawsof your country do not allow such high-handeddeeds as you have been guilty of.”

“Down in Honduras the laws are a bit different, aren’t they?” asked Halstead very pleasantly.

“Down in Honduras, they – ”

The swarthy one checked himself suddenly.

“That is the second time you have asked meabout Honduras,” he went on presently. “Whydo you say so much about Honduras?”

“I’ve trapped you into admitting that it’syour country,” laughed Halstead. “And thattells me, too, why you are so interested in havingTed Dunstan kept out of sight for the nextfew days.”

“What’s all this talk about Honduras?” demandeda gruff voice. The challenge madeboth jump. A stocky figure stepped alertly outfrom behind a tree. It was the solidly built, florid-faced man – the other of the pair Tomhad first seen in the seat ahead.

“Oh, you, you, you!” cried the swarthy onedelightedly, as he wrenched his captive wristfree from Halstead’s weakening clutch. “Youhave appeared in time, my friend!”

“So?” roared the florid-faced one, taking abusiness-like grip of Tom Halstead’s collar.“What was this young cub doing?”

“Doing?” cried the swarthy one, dancing inhis wrath, his eyes gleaming like coals. “Hehad the impudence, this boy, to say he wouldtake me to a constable. He insists that I knowall about one Ted Dunstan.”

“Does, eh?” growled the powerful, florid-facedone, giving Tom a mighty shake. “Thenwe’ll take care of this young man! Oh, we’llgive him a pleasant time!”

“Yes, yes! Just as we would in Honduras!”laughed the swarthy one gleefully. “He hasbeen asking much, just now, about the way theydo things in Honduras.”

“Then he’ll be sure to be just the lad who’llappreciate a little information at first hand!”jeered Tom’s captor.

CHAPTER VI – TOM HAS A BAD QUARTER OF AN HOUR

“So the youngster was going to be high-handedwith ye, was he?” demandedthe florid-faced one, and despite the intensedarkness there in the woods, Tom Halsteadcould see the ugly gleam in his strong-handedcaptor’s eyes.

The swarthy one stepped to the other side ofhis friend and whispered something in thatworthy’s ear. It was a rather long communication.Though he tried with all his might tooverhear some of it, Halstead could not distinguisha single word. Yet, as the narrationproceeded, Tom felt that powerful grip on hiscoat collar increase in intensity.

“Well, we’ll take care of you, youngster,”declared the florid-faced one at last. “You’retoo big a nuisance to have at large! And asyou’ve been giving your time to other folks’business, we’ll take good care of your time afterthis! Come along now!”

Tom had not tried to resist and for a most excellentreason. He well knew that his presentcaptor could fell him like a log. Here no contestof muscles was to be thought of. Craft mustbe substituted for strength.

In the boy’s brain revolved swiftly many plansfor escape. Just as the florid-faced one startedto force him over the path lately taken the rightidea came to the young captive. He puckeredhis lips, emitting a shrill whistle.

Nor had he guessed wrongly. There was anecho here. Back on the air came almost theexact duplicate of the whistle Halstead had letloose.

In a jiffy both of his captors halted. Perhapsthey suspected it to be only an echo, but theywanted to make sure.

Quicker than a flash, though, before theycould make any tests for themselves, Halsteadshouted:

“Fine! Rush ’em quick, fellows! Jump on’em and hold ’em down. Don’t let either rascalget away!”

His voice was so joyous, so exultant, that itcompletely fooled the pair for an instant.Though the florid-faced one did not release thetightness of his grip on the young skipper’scoat collar, he, like the swarthy one, used hiseyes to look about in all directions.

That moment was enough for Tom Halstead, doubly quick-witted in his peril. His hands flewup the front of his uniform coat, ripping buttonsout of button holes at one swift move. Wrench!Tom slipped out of his coat, springing aheadunder the trees.

“Here, you! Come back here!” roared theflorid-faced one absurdly, as he plunged afterthe young fugitive. The swarthy one, too, joined in the chase, freeing himself of a torrentof Spanish words.

Tom Halstead had just a few seconds’ start, aided by the darkness that enveloped them all.A hundred yards or so Tom dashed, rathernoisily. Then, off at right angles to his formercourse he sped on tip-toe, nor did he go muchmore than fifty yards ere he landed up against astraight tree whose low-hanging limbs bore anabundant foliage.

Up this tree-trunk, without hesitation, shinnedthe young skipper, drawing himself well upamong the leaves in what he felt must be recordtime for such a feat.

For a few moments more he could hear hispursuers stumbling along the wrong course.Then he knew, by the sounds, that they hadturned back and were keeping well apart in thehope of covering more ground. But the uncertaintyof their steps, however, told the boy upthe tree that his pursuers were wholly off thetrail and giving up the chase. Then, veering, the florid-faced man and the swarthy one cametoward each other. They halted almost squarelyunder the tree that held young Halstead.