CHAPTER XVI
On Barter Island
"All you have to do is to get off at Sawyer Island, our next landing, and walk back to this inlet."
"Can we go by land?" asked Alvin.
"No trouble. There are two or three bridges to cross and you may have a little tramping to do at the end of your journey, but it is easy."
"How far is it?"
"Something like three miles – perhaps a little more."
"That's nothing for us; we shan't mind it."
"It will carry you close to darkness, but that need make no difference. The sky has cleared somewhat, but I don't believe you will have any moonlight."
"That may be an advantage; at any rate let us hope so."
Sawyer Island, possibly a tenth as large as Barter, had been in sight for some time, and the steamer speedily drew up beside the rather rickety landing. It happened that no passengers and only a few boxes of freight were taken aboard. Only three persons left the boat – the two youths and the gentleman in a gray suit, who seemed to spend most of his time in reading the Lewiston Journal. This fact led Alvin and Chester to look at him with some interest. He carried a small handbag, and appeared to be confused after stepping ashore. He looked about for a minute or two and then addressed the agent, an elderly man with a yellow tuft of whiskers on his chin, no coat or waistcoat, a pair of trousers whose tops were tucked in his boots, and a single suspender which made the garments hang lopsided in a seemingly uncomfortable manner.
"I beg your pardon, friend, but isn't this the Isle of Springs?"
"Not much," replied the agent, with a grin that displayed two rows of big yellow teeth. "This is Sawyer Island."
"My gracious! you don't say so!" exclaimed the new arrival in no little astonishment. "How is that?"
"It's 'cause it happens to be so; can't you read?"
"What do you mean by such a question?"
"There are the words painted on the front of that shanty in big enough letters to read as fur as you can see 'em."
The man glared at them.
"Was there ever such stupidity? If I signalled the steamer do you think she would come back and take me up?"
"I rayther think not, but you might try it."
And he did try it. Snatching off his hat he swung it over his head and shouted at the top of his voice.
"Hold on there! You've left me behind! Come back!"
Several deck hands on the boat must have seen the frantic passenger, who ran to the edge of the wharf, and added his handbag to the circlings, while he kept up his shoutings. Alvin and Chester, as much amused as the agent, fancied they could see the grins on the faces of several of the men on the steamer. One of them waggishly crooked a forefinger as an invitation for him to come aboard, but none the less the boat steamed straight on to the Isle of Springs.
"You might swim, stranger," suggested the agent.
Ignoring the sarcasm, the other asked:
"Can't I hire a boat to take me across?"
"No diffikilty if you've got money."
By this time the youths felt that they had had enough of the scene, and turned to follow the road nearly to the other side of the island, where it joined the one leading to Hodgdon Island and then extended across that to the bridge connection with Barter. They had made so careful a study of the map that they had no fear of going wrong. They might not have been in such haste, had not the afternoon been drawing to a close and night certain to be near when they should reach their destination.
The day was comparatively cool, for be it remembered that while we are smothering with summer heat in States farther south, there is little of it on the coast of Maine, except occasionally during the middle of the day.
Something more than half a mile brought the youths to the first turn, when they went due north to the skeleton-like bridge which joins the two islands that have been named. They had walked so briskly that upon reaching the farther end they paused for a brief breathing spell. Naturally they looked about them – across the comparatively narrow strait to Hodgdon Island, to the right toward the mainland, and westward in the direction of the Sheepscot River. Leaning against the railing, they next gazed back over the bridge which they had just trodden. At the end was a man resting like themselves and in the same attitude.
"It's odd that he is the first person we have seen since we started," remarked Alvin. "Since we didn't meet him he must be going the same way as ourselves."
"Neither of us is doing much going just now," said Chester. "Have you thought, Alvin, that we haven't a pistol between us?"
"What of it?"
"We may need it before we are through with this business."
"I remember father telling me that when he was a young man he visited Texas and at Austin had a long talk with Ben Thomson."
"Who was Ben Thomson?" asked the wondering Chester.
"One of the greatest desperadoes that that State ever produced. He looked like a dandified young clerk or preacher, but it was said of him that in all his career he never missed the man at whom he fired. The governor found him a pleasant fellow to talk with and they became quite chummy. When asked his advice about carrying a revolver, Ben told him never to do it – at least while in Texas. 'If you do,' said Ben, 'it will be the death of you as sure as you are now alive. You can't draw half as quick as the bad men whom you are likely to run against, and the fact that you are carrying a gun will bring the other's acquittal in any court where the case may be tried. But if you are unarmed, no one will molest you, for only the meanest coward will attack an unarmed man.' Now, what I think is, that we are safer without a revolver than with one. Neither of us is an expert and we should have no show with these post office robbers if we got into a fight where guns were used."
Chester was not satisfied with this view of the situation.
"From what I have heard, such persons don't wait to find out whether another is armed before firing upon him, and in spite of what you say, I wish I had a loaded Smith and Wesson, or a Colt in my hip pocket."
"Well, you haven't nor have I. The governor has no patience with this fashion among boys of carrying deadly weapons. The temptation to use them when there is no need is too great."
Chester shook his head in dissent, and as they resumed their walk discussed the near future, for it was prudent to do so. After they had crossed the second bridge at the northern end of Hodgdon Island, he said:
"It can't be much farther to that inlet where we may or may not find the Deerfoot. It is time we made up our minds what to do. Suppose we come upon your boat with the thieves in charge, shall we tell them they have been very naughty and must go away and let us have the property without making any fuss?"
Alvin laughed.
"Maybe that's as good a plan as any. I believe I can convince them that the wisest thing for them to do is to turn the boat over to us and clear out."
"If they are desperate enough to rob post offices and steal a motor launch, they are not the ones to give it up for the asking. There!" exclaimed Chester stopping short, "we forgot something."
"What is it?"
"We meant to have telegrams sent out to different points from Boothbay Harbor, asking lots of persons to keep a lookout for the Deerfoot."
"What's the need of that when we have found her?"
"It isn't certain we have found her, but it can't be helped now."
They resumed their walk, and in due time trod the soil of Barter Island, by crossing another long wooden bridge. They had met on the way a rickety wagon, a carriage and one automobile, but no person on foot. A mile or so farther they came upon a hamlet, where it seemed prudent to ask a few questions. Night was so near that it was important that they should make no mistake in their course. They learned that from this cluster of houses a single highway led to the western coast of Barter Island. Barely a half mile beyond the terminus of this road was the inlet upon which they had centered their hopes. Mr. Richards had told them that they would have to tramp this distance, but would probably find a path which would make the task easy. Although minute knowledge was necessary to enable one to speak definitely, yet Mr. Richards reminded them that the fact of there being dwellings at varying distances all along the coast proved that there must be means of communication between them.
The boys knew they were within a half mile of the inlet when they paused more to consult than to rest. The road was lined on both sides by a vigorous growth of fir. To the rear it reached several hundred yards nearly straight, but curved sharply a little way off in front. By accident, Chester's face was turned toward the road behind them. The two had not spoken a dozen words when Chester remarked without any excitement:
"I wonder who it is that's coming this way; probably some countryman or fisherman." Alvin looked back.
"I don't see anyone."
"He dodged to one side among the trees when he saw us."
"What made him do that?"
"I wish I knew."
CHAPTER XVII
The Man in Gray
Naturally the boys were curious to know the meaning of the stranger's conduct. They could not see why anyone travelling the same way with themselves should wish to avoid observation. It would seem that he would have hurried forward for the sake of company in this lonely region. Could it be he was really trying to keep out of sight?
Chester's added explanation left no doubt on this point.
"It was accidental on my part. I happened to be looking at the very point where the road makes a turn, when I caught a glimpse of something moving on the edge of my field of vision as if coming this way. Before I could do more than see it was a person, he slipped to the side among the trees. That I think proves he does not wish to be seen by us."
"He must have known you saw him."
"No; the chances were a hundred to one against either of us noticing him, though we might have done so had he come two steps nearer. Not doubting that he was secure, he whisked out of sight for the time."
"He might have done that by leaping backward instead of sideways."
"I don't see any choice between the two methods. I am beginning to suspect that for some reason he is interested in us. How is it, Alvin, that we never had a suspicion of anything of that kind?"
"Because we had no reason for it."
"Now it would be odd if that man is the one who rested at one end of the first bridge while we were doing the same at the other."
"And has been dogging us ever since. It is easy enough to find out. Come on!"
Avoiding the manner of those who had detected anything amiss, the youths faced south once more, and, neither hastening nor retarding their pace, walked along the middle of the highway until they had passed beyond the bend which hid them from the sight of the individual whose actions were anything but reassuring.
"Now!" whispered Alvin.
As he spoke, he stepped into the wood on their right, his companion doing the same. There was no undergrowth and they threaded their way for several rods and then were unable to find a tree with a trunk large enough to hide their bodies. Doing the best they could, they fixed their gaze upon the highway, along which they expected to see the man come within the succeeding few minutes.
An impulse led Alvin to glance at his watch just at the moment he placed himself behind the trunk of a pine not more than six inches in diameter. After waiting seemingly longer than necessary, he examined his timepiece again. The minutes pass slowly to those who are in suspense, but surely the interval ought to have brought the stranger into view. But he was as yet invisible. A quarter of an hour dragged by and still nothing was to be seen of him. Alvin looked across at Chester, who was a few paces off, also partially hidden from sight of anyone passing over the highway.
"What do you make of it?" asked the puzzled Captain of the Deerfoot.
"How long have we been waiting?"
"A half hour."
"Then he isn't coming," said Chester, stepping forth and walking toward the road; "we are throwing away time and it is already growing dark."
On the edge of the highway the two halted and peered to the right and left. Not a person was in sight.
"He has turned back," said Alvin.
"Why should he do that?"
"He must have known we saw him."
"More likely he dived into the wood and made a circle so as to come back to the road between us and the inlet. He can't be far off."
"He has had plenty of time to get out of sight."
"Perhaps not."
Led by the hope, the boys hastened to the next turn, which gave them sight of a hundred yards or more before it wound out of view again.
"There he is!" whispered Alvin excitedly.
"No; it is not he."
A large boy in a straw hat, with loose flapping linen duster and bare feet was strolling toward them. He kept in the middle of the road, for the walking was as good there as on either side. With his hands in his trousers pockets and whistling softly to himself he lounged forward. He started as the lads stepped out from among the trees.
"Gosh! you give me a scare!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Who be you?"
"Friends," Alvin took it upon himself to answer. "Who are you?"
"Henry Perkins," was the prompt response from the youth, whose manner showed that he was not at ease.
"Where do you live?"
"Up the road, not fur, near this end of the bridge to Hodgdon Island."
"Where are you coming from now?"
The youth hesitated a moment and then with his unrelaxing grin answered:
"I spent the day with my cousin Burt Eggles over at Westport; he rowed me across the Sheepscot, and as I told you I'm on my way hum; if I don't arriv there purty blamed soon, the old man will give me an all-fired licking."
"Did you meet anybody on the road?"
Henry Perkins shook his head several times.
"Didn't meet nobody; there ain't many folks in this part of the kentry."
"Well," said Alvin, "you may go on home now; if your 'old man' is cross with you tell him you were stopped on the road."
"Haw! haw! he mought ask how long I was stopped. Wal, I'm off."
He strode forward with long steps, as if anxious to get away from the couple who asked such personal questions. He had gone only a few paces when he abruptly halted, looked around at the two, who were amusedly watching him, and exclaimed:
"Gosh! I furgot something – I'm sorry," he added, using the catch phrase, which was beginning to take the place of the conventional "excuse me," or "I beg pardon."
"What is that?"
"I did meet a feller a little way down the road."
The youths were interested on the instant.
"Do you know who he was?" asked Alvin.
"Never seen him afore; didn't ask his name; don't spose he'd told me if I had; I nodded and he nodded; neither of us didn't speak; that's all."
"How was he dressed?"
"Had on a soft, light hat, gray suit and carried a handbag."
"Thank you, Henry, good night."
"I 'spose I was so rattled at fust I didn't think of him when you asked me if I'd met anybody. Wal, so 'long."
"What do you make of it now?" asked Alvin of his chum, as they resumed their walk toward the inlet.
"That's the man we saw pretending to rest at the further end of the first bridge; he's the one who sat near us on the steamer reading a newspaper, and he left the boat when we did. That swinging of his hat and yelling for the steamer to come back and pick him up was a bluff. He got off because we did and he has been following us ever since."
Neither could doubt this self-evident fact, which was enough to make them graver than usual.
The man in gray must have known from the actions of the youths that one if not both had discovered him while he was passing over the road behind them. He had, as Chester suspected, turned in among the pines and made a circuit by which he came out in advance of them. This might never have become known but for the meeting between him and Henry Perkins.
But the disturbing question remained to be answered: who was he and what did he mean by his actions?
"I believe he is one of the post office gang," said Alvin.
"So do I," assented his companion; "he knew from what we said on the boat that we are hunting the stolen launch and he means to be on the ground when we find it."
"What for?"
"Aye, there's the rub; whatever it may be it doesn't mean any good to us. We have another criminal to buck against and one that's likely to get the best of us. I wish now that I had two revolvers and you a repeating rifle."
"Wishing can do no good. We'll win if we can."
It was characteristic of these two young Americans that to neither came a thought of turning back. It was more than probable that they would run into personal peril, but none the less they cheerfully took the risk.
When they reached the end of the highway which has its beginnings on the southern point of Barter Island, it was fully dark. In the single small house that stood there a light was burning, and a form flitted between it and the curtain of the window.
"Alvin, I have just found out something," said his chum.
"What's that?"
"I was never hungrier in my life."
"The same here and have been for an hour or two."
"Let's go in and get something to eat."
No railings or fence showed in front of the little faded structure upon whose door Chester gently knocked. It was opened by an elderly woman, who was engaged in setting the table. In answer to her inquiring looks Chester said:
"Good evening! Can we buy something to eat?"
"No, sir; we don't sell food; we give it to them as needs it!"
CHAPTER XVIII
At the Inlet
It was not the thin, meek-looking woman who uttered these words of welcome. The tones were so thunderous that both the lads were startled, and they did not see the speaker, until they stepped across the threshold. He was an old man, one who must have been near eighty, who was sitting near the front window, smoking a corncob pipe. His face was weazened and wrinkled, his white hair thin and his shoulders stooping, but his little eyes twinkled kindly and he wore no glasses. He was in his shirt sleeves and his waistcoat hung loosely and unbuttoned down the front. His clean, coarse white shirt showed no necktie, but there was a pleasing neatness about his trousers and thick shoes.
Alvin and Chester removed their caps and saluted the couple. The woman had not spoken and for a long time kept silent.
"Take a cheer! take a cheer!" added the old man, holding his pipe in one hand while he waved the other toward seats; "take a couple if you like."
The wonder about the old fellow was his voice. Never had the callers heard so deep and resounding a bass. It was literally like thunder. Each asked himself what it was a half century before.
There was no mistaking his hospitality. Probably in his loneliness he welcomed any callers, no matter who they might be. He smiled upon the youths, who noticed that there was not a tooth visible.
"Bless my heart! It does my old eyes good to look upon two such handsome chaps as you! Your faces be clean, your eyes bright, you wear purty good clothes and I don't b'lieve you use terbacker."
"No," said Alvin; "we haven't begun yet."
"My! my! you don't know what you've missed, but there's time 'nough; wait till you're as old as me afore you start. How old do you think I am?"
The pleased lads scanned the wrinkled countenance as if trying to make up their minds. It was Chester who answered for both:
"You must be past sixty-five – pretty close to seventy."
The remark was diplomatic, for both knew he was a good deal older. The man threw back his head and shook with mirth.
"Do you hear that, Peggy? They think I'm purty close to seventy! That's the best joke I've heerd since I was a boy. He! he! Why, young man," he added, abruptly checking his laughter, "I'll be eighty-three come next Christmas. I was a Christmas gift to my father and mother."
"You don't mean it!" replied Alvin, with a shake of his head.
The wife paused in crossing the floor and laughed, but without the least sound.
"I don't mean it, eh? Ask Peggy."
The youths looked inquiringly and she nodded several times in confirmation, but remained mute.
"We can't doubt her," said Chester. "You are surely a wonder, Mr. – "
"Folks don't call me mister; I'm Uncle Ben – Ben Trotwood. Who might you be?"
There was no need of evasion, and Alvin briefly told all the important facts. Having given their names, he related how their motor boat had been stolen while they were taking lunch that day in the woods near the blockhouse. It was not worth while to mention Mike Murphy.
"Consarn such scamps!" exclaimed Uncle Ben. "They oughter be made to smart. But when Peggy opened the door I think you said something 'bout devouring food."
"We are hungry."
"Wal," said the old man, rising briskly from his chair in answer to a nod from his wife, "supper's ready and we'll all set by. If you want to please us you won't leave a crumb on the table."
"Then we'll be sure to please you."
It was a most enjoyable meal of which our young friends partook, after Uncle Ben had said grace as was his invariable custom. The food was plain but excellently cooked and there was an abundance. The host was as spry as a man of half his years, and presided, his wife pouring out tea which never tasted better to Alvin and Chester. Each of the lads, when no one was watching him, slipped a dollar bill under his plate, where it was not likely to be seen until after they had gone.
The kindliness of the old man as well as that of the mute wife made the guests feel at home. Toward the close of the meal Chester said:
"Uncle Ben, you've got the most wonderful voice I ever heard."
Plainly the old man was pleased.
"It ain't a sarcumstance to what it was when I was younger. They asked me to sing bass in the church at Trevett, but I nearly busted proceedings. The folks said that when I let out my voice, they couldn't hear anybody else in the choir."
"It is easy to believe that."
"Then," added Uncle Ben whimsically, "they made me pay for several panes of glass that they insisted my voice had broke. I stood that, till one Sunday, a boy begun yelling that he was afeard of that big black bear in the gallery and he like to have went into fits ontil I put on the brakes. Then I quit, plumb disgusted."
"Don't you find it rather lonely here?"
"Sometimes when the children wait too long to visit us."
"How many children have you?"
"Seven boys and six girls. We lost three afore they growed up."
"You are rich indeed," said Chester admiringly.
And then the wife spoke for the first time:
"We ought to be thankful and we are!"
It came out that all the sons and daughters were well married and lived within a radius of little more than fifty miles. Each family had often urged the old couple to make their home with it, but they preferred to live by themselves. There was no danger of their suffering for anything that affection could provide.
Alvin and Chester would have been glad to stay over night, as they were urged to do, but they decided to push on and learn what they could with the least possible delay. While daylight would have been more favorable, in many respects, for their task, they feared that the thieves would make off with the Deerfoot before daylight. The intrusion of the man in gray added a zest to the search that had something to do with their haste.
Since Uncle Ben rarely went beyond sight of his humble home, he could tell them nothing of the launch. He admitted that most of the time when he sat by the front window smoking, he dozed or was fully asleep. He had seen no one pass the house during the afternoon except the boy, Henry Perkins. The man in gray might have gone by, but Uncle Ben knew nothing of it.
Promising to call if they ever came into the neighborhood again, the youths bade the old couple good night. They hurried, for the wife had begun clearing away the things from the table, and was sure to discover the tip that each had left. They chuckled because they got clear of the home without such mishap.
It will be remembered that night had descended some time before, and the clouded sky veiled the moon. The path of which Uncle Ben told them was well defined, but in the dense gloom it was hard to keep it. Alvin, taking the lead, spread out his arms and swept them in front of his face to prevent collisions with projecting limbs. Once or twice he strayed to one side, but with the help of Chester regained the trail and they pushed on in good spirits, glad that they had not far to go. The temperature was so mild that they felt no discomfort from the lack of extra clothing.
As they drew near the inlet their caution increased. Alvin in front stepped as softly as an Indian scout entering the camp of an enemy. Chester was equally careful and for some time neither spoke. With the deep gloom inclosing them on every hand, they were mutually invisible.
Suddenly Chester bumped lightly into his companion.
"What's the matter?" he asked in a whisper.
"I'm out of the path again."
"I don't see that that makes any difference; we must be close to the bay. Push on!"
They felt their way in silence for a few minutes and then stopped once more. Not the slightest sound was given out by the water that was somewhere near them. Alvin hesitated, as he was afraid of a mis-step.
At this juncture, when the two stood motionless and uncertain, nature, singularly enough, came to their relief. The laboring moon for a few seconds shone partly through the heavy clouds that were drifting before its face, and the dim illumination revealed that two paces farther would have taken them into the inlet. Scarcely was this discovery made when blank night again shut them in.
"Well, here we are," said Alvin; "and what comes next?"
After all that had been said and done, it dawned upon both at this moment that their whole venture was foolish to the last degree. Suppose they located the Deerfoot, they would be powerless to do anything more. Two unarmed youths could not retake it from the thieves, and they might grope around the place for the whole night without learning the truth. If they had been able to reach the spot before night, or, failing in that, had waited till the morrow, their eyes would have quickly told them all they wished to know.
Standing side by side nonplussed for the moment, Alvin sniffed several times.
"Do you notice it?" he asked in a guarded undertone.
"Notice what?"
"I smell a cigar; somebody is near us."
Chester tested his smelling apparatus and replied:
"You are right; the odor is in the air."
"It reminds me of the kind the governor smokes; and is therefore a mighty good one."
"It is the man in gray; he smoked nearly all the time on the boat."