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

“What’s up with the engine, Joe?” Halsteadcalled down to his now invisible chum.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Joeretorted. “I don’t like the motor’s behavior, and it’s getting worse every minute.”

“I should say so,” muttered Tom.

“There isn’t any danger of a serious accident,is there?” asked Miss Elsie quickly.

“Probably not,” was the young skipper’sreply. “But we don’t know, and can’t, untilwe find out what’s wrong.”

“Oh, we ought to hurry back,” shivered MissElsie. “We ought to get in before there’s anyaccident.”

“Why, provided none of us were drowned, anaccident would be something worth remembering,”laughed Jessie mischievously.

“Jessie Lester, how dare you say so?” demandedher sister, looking somewhat shocked.

“Say,” bawled up the now excited voice ofJoe Dawson, “this is a tough one!”

He showed his worried face at the hatchway, adding:

“The tank’s empty! The last drops of gasolineare running into the motor!”

“What’s that?” demanded Tom aghast.“How could that have happened?”

“I don’t know,” was Joe’s bewilderedresponse. “The tank was half-full whenwe got back from Wood’s Hole early thismorning. But now it’s empty. Look foryourself.”

The propeller shaft made a few faint turns, then stopped. Having little headway by thistime the “Meteor” soon began to drift aimlesslyover the rolling waters.

“I don’t need to look,” Tom answered, droppinghis hand from the wheel “I can seeenough to believe you, Joe. But how on earthcould this have happened, Joe?”

“It didn’t happen without some one tamperingwith the tank,” Joe exploded resentfully.“There’s no leak in the tank. We should, byrights, have oil enough to run to New Yorkand back.”

There being nothing now that he could doin the engine room, Dawson stepped moodily upon deck. The girls watched Captain Tom’sface. Mrs. Lester, her curiosity aroused by thestopping of speed, attempted to come forwardalong the deck. The rolling of the craft madethis so dangerous for her that Jed sprang forward, piloting her safely forward. There thesituation was soon made plain to the frightenedmother.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Tom asked, the glass to hiseyes, as he looked over the rolling waters.“Had our gasoline held out we could have madethe pier with time to spare.”

“Is there real danger, then?” demanded Mrs.Lester, her face betraying her great alarm.

“There’s a northeast blow, and a big one, going to strike us within half an hour,” theyoung skipper replied. “And there’s not acraft in sight I can signal to. Our anchorswouldn’t hold in the blow that’s coming.”

“Can’t you signal the Dunstan place?” askedthe much-alarmed lady.

“Yes, but I doubt if they could see our signals, our mast is so low and the distance sogreat.”

“But they have that steam launch there. Ifyou could make them understand, captain, theycould send the launch out to us.”

“The launch is too small a craft to face theblow that’s coming,” Tom rejoined gravely.“Besides, Mr. Dunstan has no one who knowsanything about handling a marine steam engine.If you ladies will go into the cabin – ”

“And feel like rats in a trap while there’sdanger!” remonstrated Mrs. Lester. “Oh, please don’t ask us to leave the deck. We’ll feelsafer here. At least we shall be able to seewhat’s happening.”

“Get the lifelines, Joe, and rig them quickly,”spoke Tom gravely. “Jed, help me to get theanchors overboard. We’ll do everything wecan.”

While the boys worked like beavers the windcame down upon them with ever-increasingforce. At first the anchors held, the “Meteor”straining at her cables.

“Here comes a squall!” shouted Tom, suddenly.“Catch hold! Hold fast! We’ll soonknow about our anchors.”

As the squall struck, the “Meteor” heeledover. The ladies screamed with fright. Eventhe motor boat boys felt the thrill of dread.The boat rolled as though she were going toturn turtle. Then, slowly, she righted herself.

“One of the cables has parted!” shouted Jed, through the increasing tempest.

Another and heavier squall struck them, again heeling the motor boat over. She rightedherself, but the gale was becoming stronger, and, despite the remaining anchor, the “Meteor”now began to drift toward the lee shoreof Muskeget.

Miss Elsie, deathly white, and clutchingdesperately at the lifelines, began to sob.

“It’s fearful, I know,” spoke Captain Tom, quietly. “But we’ve got to face it and hopefor the best. You were admiring courage awhile ago, but now you can show as much asany man could.”

“You’re right,” Miss Elsie called backthrough the roar of the gale, as she steadiedherself. “Thank you; by pointing out the needof courage you’ve given me much.”

Tom turned to stare, with grave, impassiveface, to leeward. An eighth of a mile off thebeach at Muskeget lay a reef ordinarily sunkenbelow the surface in calm weather. But nowthe waves were dashing over this ledge, showingthe jagged points of the rough stone.

“If a miracle doesn’t happen,” thought theyoung skipper, noting the course of the boat’sdrift, “we’ll wreck there soon, and then there’sa doubt if one of us gets out of it alive!”

CHAPTER XV – IN THE TEETH OF DEATH

“What’s the worst, now, captain?”

It was Miss Jessie who asked this, her lips close to the young skipper’sear, for the gale’s roar now drowned out allordinary tones.

“Do you see that line of spray?” asked Halstead, pointing to where the water dashed overthe reef.

“Yes.”

“I’m wondering if it’s possible for us notto be dashed on that.”

“Wrecked?” demanded Jessie, her face paling, but her lips steady.

“That’s one of our dangers.”

“And that will mean that we must bedrowned?”

“We’ll hope not,” replied Halstead, forcinga smile. “Joe! Jed!”

Getting his friends where Mrs. Lester couldnot overhear, Halstead went on quickly:

“If we go to smash on the reef, rememberthat I’m to take the mother into the water.Joe, you take the elder daughter; Jed, you theyounger one. If we have to get into the waterwith women’s lives to save, remember the gloryof American seamen!”

“I’ll get ashore double, or not at all,” Joepromised, and he knew very well how littlelikelihood there was of reaching safety on land.

“I’ll prove I’m one of you,” promised Jed, though his face was ashen. Tom grabbed hishand long enough to give it a mighty squeeze.Then the young skipper moved to the starboardrail where he could watch best. His calculationshad proved correct. The “Meteor,” driftinghelplessly, was bound to strike on the reef.With fascinated gaze Tom watched the angrybreakers.

“We’re pretty near the finish, aren’t we?”asked Miss Jessie in his ear. The girl’s voicewas icily calm.

“I think we’re going to strike within two orthree minutes,” Tom responded, stonily. “Ifwe do, trust to us in the water, and try not tohamper us. I’ll try to get your mother ashore,Jed takes you, and Joe your sis – ”

Tom stopped short. Where on earth wasJoe? That youth had vanished from the deck.

“Why, I thought Joe was here, right readyfor his next duty,” cried Halstead, amazedly.“Where – ”

“He went below,” bawled back Jed. “Buthe’s not in the engine room.”

“Then he’s doing something that’s good, anyway,” spoke Tom, with whole faith in his triedcomrade.

Once more the young captain turned to watchthe line of breakers. The “Meteor” was deadlyclose now, her staunch hull in imminent danger.

“Here – quick!” roared Dawson’s heaviesttones.

His head showed in the hatchway. He washanding through a metal can.

“And I’ve got another one,” he shouted.“Thought there must be some reserve aboard,so I explored the spare lockers aft. There – got it?”

For Tom had snatched up a five-gallon canand was lifting it to the covered deck forward.The “Meteor” was rolling and pitching underthe lashing of the gale. Waves broke anddashed over that forward deck, but Joe, with asecond five-gallon can, followed. Both boyshad to crawl, feeling as though they were holdingon by their teeth.

“You pour – I’ll shield the inlet from water!”shouted Dawson, over all the roar of the elements.“It’s life or death in a minute, now, old chum!”

Well enough Tom knew that, but he saw alsothe one bare chance of getting all hands out oftheir awful plight. Dawson crawled around towindward of the inlet to the gasoline tank, shielding it as much as he could with his body.He unscrewed the cap, while Tom removed thesmaller top of one of the gasoline cans.

“Wait until the dash of the next wave ispast,” shouted Halstead. “Then I’ll pour.”

Though it took many precious moments, theycontrived to empty the can into the tank withoutgetting any salt water mixed with it.

“Now, another can!” breathed Joe tensely.

But Tom, raising his eyes to glance at thespray-ridden reef, answered quickly:

“Later. There isn’t a second to lose now.Hustle back!”

The dragging anchor retarded the bow ofthe boat somewhat. It was the stern thatseemed about to strike the reef. While Joeworked like lightning in the engine room Tomstood with both hands resting on the wheel. Hedreaded, every instant, to feel the bump andthe jar that should tell the news that the “Meteor”had struck.

“What do you want? Speed ahead?” bawledup Joe.

“As quickly as you can possibly give it,”Tom answered.

Still Halstead stared astern. It seemed asthough the reef were rising to meet the hullof the boat.

Throb! Chug! The motor was working, slowly. With an inward gasp of thanksgivingHalstead swung the bow around a bit to port.The engine, weaker than the gale, must dragthe anchor at least a short distance. Any attemptto raise it too soon might hold the boatto the danger line.

But Tom felt a sudden glow of happiness.The “Meteor” was forging slowly ahead.She would soon be safe, if the engine remainedstaunch. There was fearfully little oil in thetank, and he knew that the delivery of gas tothe ignition apparatus must be very slight.

Out of the engine room came Joe in a hurry, signaling to Jed to follow him. The two crawledout, over that wet, slippery forward deck ofthe rolling, pitching boat, and managed toempty a second can into the tank. The enginewas working better by the time that the pairregained the bridge deck.

“That’s enough to get us out of all trouble,”shouted Joe briefly. “We needn’t bother aboutthe third one aft until we’re well out of this.”

Captain Tom, watching the reef that theywere slowly leaving behind, soon decided thatit was time to haul in the anchor that had held.Joe and Jed accomplished this. The instantthat the drag was clear of the bottom the “Meteor”shot ahead.

“Hurrah!” yelled all three of the young seamen, when that new start came.

“We’re safe, now, aren’t we?” inquired Mrs.Lester, bending forward, her eyes shining.

“Unless there’s some new trouble with themotor,” Tom answered her, “we ought to beback at the Dunstan place in twenty minutes.”

Now, Jed brought the third can of gasolinefrom the locker aft. He and Joe succeeded inemptying it. If all went well, there was nowenough oil in the tank to carry the boat muchfurther than she had to go. Even at that, however, the boat was running with less gasolinethan she had ever carried in her tank before.

“There are Mr. Dunstan and his wife downat the pier, watching us,” announced MissJessie, as they came within eye-range of theDunstan place. “They must have been dreadfullyworried about us.”

“Now, I know what danger is, and just whatcourage and steadfastness men may show,” remarkedMiss Elsie, as they passed south of alittle headland that formed one of the sheltersof the Dunstan cove.

“And you know how much grit women mayshow,” rejoined Halstead, “for not once didyou give us any trouble.”

“Perhaps we were too badly frightened tomake trouble,” laughed Jessie Lester.

“Well, you didn’t any of you faint or havehysterics after you realized the danger wasover, did you?” retorted Captain Tom, laughing.“You can’t get away from the chargethat you all showed splendid courage as soon asyou realized that we were in real danger.”

“But you were planning to swim ashore withus from the reef,” said Mrs. Lester.

“I’m very, very thankful we didn’t have totry it,” replied Halstead, soberly. “It wouldhave been one of those one-in-a-hundred chancesthat I don’t like to have to take.”

Jed was busy, now, putting out the heaviestfenders along the port side of the hull. Evenin the cove the waves were running at a troublesomeheight. Yet Tom and Joe, by good teamwork at their respective posts, ran the “Meteor”in alongside the pier, almost without a jar.

“I’m thankful you’re all back safe,” calledMr. Dunstan, coming toward them. “I wouldhave been worried, Mrs. Lester, if I hadn’tknown all about the captain and crew that hadthe boat out.”

But when he heard about the hairbreadthescape from going on the reef off Muskeget Mr.Dunstan’s face went deathly pale. He askedthe ladies to return to the house, while heboarded the “Meteor” and faced the boys anxiously.

“What on earth can it mean that the gasolineran out?” he demanded. “Dawson, are youabsolutely sure that you had plenty of oil whenyou returned at daylight this morning?”

“Positive of it, sir,” came emphatically fromEngineer Joe.

“Then that oil must have been pumpedquietly out of the tank while you three sleptalmost the sleep of the dead,” exclaimed theowner.

“It was pumped out very early in the day, too,” Tom insisted. “Such a big quantitycouldn’t have been pumped anywhere exceptoverboard. It would have taken several barrelsto hold what was in the tank. Yet, by thetime we were on deck, at a little after noon, there wasn’t a sign of gasoline anywhere on thewater about us. The tide had carried it away.”

“I suppose anyone could have operated asteam-engine over your heads and you boyswouldn’t have heard it this morning, you wereso sound asleep,” mused Mr. Dunstan. “Yetit was in broad daylight that you berthed theboat. It must have been a daring man whowould have come down openly through thesegrounds on such an errand.”

“Unless – ” began Halstead thoughtfully.

“Well, unless – what, captain?”

“Mr. Dunstan, it’s possible, isn’t it, that oneof your men about the place may be disloyal toyou? Such a man may have done this thingeither to help your enemies, or to satisfy somespite against you.”

“I can’t think of a man in my employ I’d suspectof such a thing,” murmured the troubledman.

Plainly the owner was not the man to discussthis suspicion with. Toward dark, however,Tom and Joe went to one man on the placewhom they believed to be above all suspicion.That was big Michael, the coachman. WithMichael, they discussed the matter long andearnestly.

Though the honest coachman could tell themnothing definite, Tom Halstead went away fromthat talk on a new scent of danger ahead.

Dawson, too, was thinking hard, and, as aconsequence, was even more quiet than usual.

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much use to goto Mr. Dunstan with this,” sighed the youngcaptain. “We’ll just keep our eyes open.”

CHAPTER XVI – FOLLOWING UP THE CLUE

There was plenty to do by the time theboys got back to the pier. Jed, lone-handed, was pumping gasoline into thetank through the strainer. Several barrels ofthe oil had been sent down to the water front.Stripping off their coats, Tom and Joe turnedto and helped.

Bouncer, the bull pup, was on hand also, chained in the engine room. In view of thelate near-tragedy Mr. Dunstan had decidedto keep the dog aboard, at the home pier, hereafter, and had brought Bouncer down himself.

“We’ll finish this job Jed, if you’ll turn toand cook up a quick supper,” proposed Halstead.

“Anything on?” asked Jed, looking keenly atthem.

“I shouldn’t wonder,” nodded the young captain.

Jed asked no more questions, but got a temptingsupper ready in close to record time. Asthey were eating Tom told Jed, in low tones, the little they had discovered.

Briefly, it was this: The Dunstan gardenerand greenhouse man was a Frenchman namedGambon. He was a quiet, even sulky fellow, who had made no friends among the other employésof the place. Mr. Dunstan had once rebukedthe Frenchman for some carelessness.Michael had seen Gambon shake his fist afterthe employer as the latter was going away. Thishad happened four months ago.

There was not very much in that alone. ButGambon, who lived in a little two-room cottageall by himself, and who had no work to occupyhim evenings, had always been in the habit ofsmoking and reading, then retiring early. Formore than the last fortnight, however, Gambonhad left the place every evening. Sometimes hewas gone an hour; sometimes he had not returneduntil late. Two nights after Ted’s disappearanceMichael, who had reported to Mr.Dunstan concerning the Frenchman’s actions, had been authorized to follow Gambon. TheFrenchman, however, merely went to the Parkin Nantucket and sat for a couple of hours onone of the benches, smoking and seeminglydreaming. Mr. Dunstan, when this tame factwas reported to him, pooh-poohed Michael’s suspicionsand forbade him to watch the Frenchman any longer.

“For,” said Mr. Dunstan, “watching anyman long enough is likely to make a half-rascalof him.”

“But, Captain Tom, when a very quiet mansuddenly changes the fixed habits av year-rs,”said Michael earnestly, “then there’s likely astrong reason for it, and maybe a bad one.”

These were the facts that Tom and Joe nowrehearsed, in undertones, to Jed.

“Does it look likely, from that,” askedPrentiss, “that Gambon would steal downhere in early morning and pump our tankdry?”

“Michael saw him standing on the wharfthis morning, smoking,” replied Halstead.“Michael thought we must be up and about, though, so he didn’t pay any attention to theFrenchman.”

“Kind of a hazy clue, altogether, isn’t it?”queried Jed.

“It’s enough to be worth looking into,” Tomreplied earnestly. “Do you realize that to-morrowis the last day that Mr. Dunstan has to getTed before the probate court! That, if hedoesn’t do it to-morrow, the big inheritance ofmillions goes by the board? So anything is bigenough to work on to-night. It’s our last chance.Now Mr. Dunstan has assured me that the ‘Meteor’won’t be ordered out to-night. Joe and Iare going to watch the Frenchman. Jed, you’llwant to stay right here by the boat and keep asharp eye on it, for Gambon may not be the onewho is trying to put the ‘Meteor’ on the scrapheap. You’ll have Bouncer to help you. Evenif it came to taking the boat over to Wood’sHole, on a changed order, you’re equal to it, aren’t you?”

“Just give me the chance!” cried Jed. “I’dwelcome it.”

As soon as dark fell Joe stole across thegrounds at the further end, stationing himselfby the road. Tom, on the other hand, hid himselfnot far from Gambon’s little cottage. Thiswas the plan of the chums to prevent the Frenchmanfrom giving them the slip, in case he hadany suspicions. There was still a light in Gambon’scottage. After half an hour, however, the light vanished. Then Gambon came out, carrying a thick walking stick.

Tom watched the Frenchman until he was outof sight. Then after him the young skipperwent on tip-toe. It was not difficult to keepquietly on the trail, for the gardener appearedfar from suspicious.

Then, minutes later, Joe stepped out from behinda tree, touching Tom lightly on the arm.They went along together.

“It’s easy so far,” whispered Halstead.

“May be a reason,” answered Joe. “OurFrenchman may have nothing to conceal. Perhapshe’s only going courting.”

As Michael had reported, the gardener’sroute lay along the highway to Nantucket. Thelights of the little town were in sight when Halsteadsuddenly gave Joe a nudge. Both dodgedbehind bushes. For the Frenchman had steppedoff the road under some trees. First lookingaround him, Gambon next bent over, moving astone twice the size of his head. He picked upa piece of paper. Tom and Joe were breathinghard by this time.

Carefully replacing the stone, Gambon strucka match, scanning the piece of paper he held inhis hand. In another instant he touched theflaming match to a corner of the paper, watchingit burn up.

“Confound him for that!” muttered Tom inhis chum’s ear.

Gambon was coming back now. The twofriends crouched lower behind the bushes. Bythem walked the Frenchman, looking straightahead. As soon as it seemed wise to do so thechums started after him. They saw him, however, return to his cottage, where he lighted hislamp, smoked and by and by extinguished thelight and went to bed.

“We’ve found the spy,” groaned Tom, as thetwo chums neared the pier. “It’s fearful luck,Joe, that we couldn’t have known about him before.But it’s too late now for the knowledge todo us any good. To-morrow is the last day forTed Dunstan to show up. After we see that theboat and Jed are safe I’ll run up to the housefor a moment and see Mr. Dunstan.”

When Tom told their employer, a little later, what they had discovered that gentleman at firstappeared considerably interested.

“I’m afraid, though, Halstead,” he commented,“that we’re all of us inclined to suspectanything and anyone. Gambon is a bachelorand has saved a goodly bit of money. Whatmore likely than that he may be courting asweetheart? That would be a likely enoughplace for her to leave a note for him. Perhapsit was only a note as to an engagement that hadto be broken for this evening, for, as you say,Gambon came right back. Whatever the notewas about we’d probably feel rather ashamed ifwe forced the Frenchman to tell us about it. Bythe way, I am going to bed at once, now, for atat half-past five in the morning I shall want tostart for Wood’s Hole. I’ve heard from Craneagain, and he’s coming over with me at fullspeed, in order to be in court with me. We’regoing to see if we can’t get an adjournment forone day. Of course, there seems little hope ofit, as the terms of the will are so exacting. Oh,Halstead, I made a huge mistake in letting thematter go so long!”

There were tears in Mr. Dunstan’s eyes. Halstead, much touched, bade his employer goodnight, returning to the boat.