CHAPTER II
THE SCREAM IN THE DARK
Lanky Wallace looked aghast as theSpeedawaybore squarely at them, aimed at tearing theRocketin two.
Frank Allen, realizing what a dastardly attempt was being made to disable the boat and probably to injure Lanky and himself, knowing that only the coolest maneuvering would save them, was as steady as a post.
With one swing of his arm to the motor he increased speed and with the coolest deliberation turned the nose of theRocketsquarely for theSpeedaway. His hope was two-fold: that he would scare off the other men and that he might be in a better position to throw his own craft hard over to one side at the last moment before any impact.
His movement was entirely successful in at least one respect—that he got into position quickly for his own next move.
In a flash of time the two boats were almost touching noses. Then came the necessary alertnessand deftness of movement. With a hard tug at his wheel Frank threw theRocketto one side.
Crunch! The sides of the two boats rubbed each other all the way from stem to stern. As quickly as this happened Frank threw the wheel hard in the opposite direction, with the effect that it threw theSpeedawayaround, and did so with such a jerk that a large box fell overboard on the other side.
“Hey, you blame fool! What do you mean trying to run me down? What kind of dirty tricks are you up to?” yelled Fred Cunningham as they passed.
Frank, hearing the splash and not knowing that it was not a man overboard, for he had seen two other men beside Cunningham in the boat, immediately cut off speed and continued the long turning movement started when he so quickly gave the push to the stern of theSpeedaway.
Her nose now downstream, Frank and Lanky saw that theSpeedawayhad also made a wide turn and was coming back toward a box which was floating in the river. The speed of theRocketlessened as it neared the other motor boat.
The two men in theSpeedawaywere busily engaged in reaching for the floating box, which appeared to be an empty one, and were thus averting their faces. His quick eyes taking in the scene, however, Frank got enough of a glimpse of the men to be able to recognize them again if he should ever see them.
“Say, what kind of business is this? Do you know that you could have swamped this boat and put us all into the river?” called Cunningham.
“That’s about what you had coming to you,” called Frank. Since Cunningham was playing this kind of trick and since there was nothing to be gained by having any argument about the guilt of one or the other, Frank merely showed his contempt for the other.
By this time the two other men had rescued the box and had placed it on the deck forward.
“Do you think that raft of yours has any speed in it?” asked Cunningham sneeringly. “If you think so, I’ll give you a race any time you want it.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll be glad to do. Any time you say and where you say we’ll show you what a regular boat can do that doesn’t spend its time running other people down,” called Frank quite coolly.
“What’s that?” called Cunningham threateningly, getting out from the cockpit as the two boats lay alongside each other.
Frank was equally ready, and saw that a lack of movement on his part might be misinterpreted. Out he stepped from the cockpit of theRocketand started toward the side.
“I said this boat was ready for a race any time, and I said it was not in the nasty habit of trying torun into other people. Did you get me plainly?”
“Race you any time you say, then. Better put two or three more engines into your rowboat,” again sneered Cunningham, as he stepped back into the cockpit of theSpeedaway.
With that he threw the motor into gear and moved away from theRocket, which now slowly turned its nose upstream.
Frank and Lanky were both quiet. Wallace wanted to talk, but he knew Frank well enough to know that the young captain of theRocketdid not wish to say anything. Under such conditions Frank Allen was always most quiet.
The afternoon sun was slanting its way down into the west and the cooler breezes of the river were flitting past their tousled heads, cooling them off a bit after the rather exciting moments they had had.
It was just at dusk that the boys came to Northeast Bend in the Harrapin and saw the island for which they were headed.
As quickly as it was possible to do, without taking too many chances on injuring the craft, Frank brought it up to the landing with the engine dead. Lanky leaped ashore and tied to the landing post, while Frank made sure he had the note in his pocket before stepping off.
“Well, we’re going to have a moonlight ride onthe Harrapin to-night—provided there’s a moon,” laughed Frank, as he came hurrying back to theRocketand found Lanky stretched out astern, viewing the sky.
“Good enough, only it’s going to cost someone something to eat when we get back to town, for I’m as hungry as one of those bears they talk about.”
“I think father ought to be the one to buy it. What do you say if you come on to the house and we’ll have a snack laid out for us that will improve conditions in the department of the interior.”
“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said since we started—so far as I can recall.”
In the meanwhile Lanky pulled his frame up from the stern seat, stretched, jumped to the landing, cast off, and theRocketwas ready to go. The stream slowly turned the boat’s nose downward as Frank threw the wheel over. A moment later the motor was going, the gear shifted, and theRocketstarted on its homeward journey.
“Better get the lights going, Lanky. And while you’re at it, get the searchlight uncovered and start it. Might as well have all the light we need. This is the first time we’ve navigated at night, and there are about two hours of it to do.”
Lanky took up his task, whistling the while, but suddenly ceased the music and cried:
“Say, Frank, there’s not a bit of juice. What’s the big idea? Can’t light one of them.”
“Throw the main switch on.”
“I have, but not a bit comes through. The line’s dead.”
Here was something more to concern them. Frank Allen knew he did not dare go far down the river without lights, for the many islands in the river and the tortuous path it followed at times would put their own safety at risk, while anything that might be floating in the stream would be an additional risk. On top of all would be the risk to themselves and to others should they meet a motor boat or a rowboat coming upstream.
“Here, take the wheel and hold her in the middle of the river,” he directed Lanky, as he threw the engine out of gear with the drive and started to seek for the trouble.
Fifteen minutes passed without any degree of success, and actual darkness was on them.
“Put her nose over to shore, Lanky. No use taking any chances. We’ve got to find the trouble.”
Whereupon Lanky did his duty, and theRocketwas soon tied to the bank, the engine was stopped, and the two boys began their search for the trouble. They started at the battery end to trace out the wiring.
Doing the work carefully, not dodging about afterone connection or another, working methodically, as was Frank’s wont in all things, they came across a grounded connection which was causing the trouble.
“What has always got me,” said Lanky, as Frank declared it was a ground, “is that you call that kind of a connection a ground, or you say the current is grounded, when there’s no ground near the boat.”
“Simple as can be to a high-class, first-grade, expert electrical engineer such as yours truly,” declared Frank, poking out his chest and striking an attitude.
“Yes, like I’m a good jeweler!”
“Now, little playmate, wilt thee kindly cast off the vessel from yonder coral reef?” Frank continued his attitude.
Lanky went shoreward, loosed the rope, and threw it on board at the bow, gave theRocketa push and leaped aboard himself, hastily grabbing the oar once again to push the stern away from the shallow water.
“Put-put!” and the engine started as he gave the flywheel a spin, Frank at the wheel ready to throw it in gear and get to midstream. All lights were going properly.
Silence now held the boys for a while as Frank picked his way easily to midstream and headed for Columbia.
“You know,” Lanky suddenly broke the stillness,still, except for the muffled exhaust of the motor, “I’ve been wondering about that fellow Cunningham, Frank. What the mischief is that fellow up to? What does he want around here? Who are those two men who were with him? Why did he try to run us down to-day? And any other questions I may have forgotten.”
“You haven’t forgotten any. But you sure can have the first chance to answer all or any of them, too. I don’t know the answers. Wish I did.”
Lanky was silent again. Frank joined him.
TheRocketwas skimming the Harrapin at a fair pace, no great amount of speed, however, being shown, for Frank Allen was not anxious to run into trouble. The searchlight was lighting the river fifty yards in front of them, first flashing across to the tree-lined banks as they came to great curves in the river, and again lighting up some one of the emerald-like isles, though now looming up out of the water like spectres. No moon was up.
“Getting down toward home. There’s the Parsons island ahead of us. We’ll pass it on this side, and then I believe I know the river better from that point to home.”
“What’s that over there?” excitedly cried Lanky, as he pointed to a shadowy thing which had been brought up out of the river as the searchlight swung toward the shore.
Back again Frank swung the light, disclosing a rowboat tied to the bank, with a form, much resembling a living being, at the bow of the boat. But the light was not strong enough to bring out details.
“Some one tied there for a while, I guess,” and Frank turned the searchlight again toward the middle of the stream.
“Look! A signal!” Lanky had seen a flare of light in the direction of the boat.
“Rats, Lanky, you’re letting this darkness get on your nerves.”
“Well—maybe. Anyhow, if it wasn’t a signal of anything else it was a signal or sign that he was lighting his pipe.”
Then a distant hail came to their ears above the put-put of the motor. They were almost on a line between the Parsons island and the Parsons home on shore. Frank stooped and cut off the motor, permitting the boat to drift with its headway. Both the boys listened. There was no sound.
“Guess I’m the one that let the light and the sound get on my nerves. What time is it, Lanky?”
“Half-past nine o’clock.”
“That’s early for anything wrong to be happening anywhere, so I guess there’s nothing happening. Those sounds are common to the river, no doubt,”and Frank stepped over to grasp the flywheel and start the engine.
“Help!” It came across the water from the shore of the Parsons estate.
Frank straightened and listened. Lanky was sitting bolt upright. Once again there came the shrill scream of a woman. No other sound.
“Wonder what it is, Lanky!”
“Some one in trouble over at the Parsons place.”
In a trice Frank grasped the flywheel, gave it a twist, the motor started, and they swung to the shore. Wallace went forward, hoping to catch any sound that might come across the lessening expanse of water.
Cutting off the motor, throwing the nose around so as to strike the bank easily, with Lanky ready to leap ashore with a line, Frank maneuvered theRocketexpertly.
Just as Lanky Wallace jumped ashore, as Frank held tight to the wheel, there came again the shrill scream of a woman from the Parsons house!