Tom Binns was in no condition to go to the Scout camp opposite Beaver Dam, and he was taken back to the city by one of the railway detectives. Jack Danby was going home with him, but Tom wouldn't hear of it.
"They'll be wondering why we didn't turn up after our hike, and maybe they'll think there's something wrong with us," he said. "You go on to the camp, Jack, and explain. I'll be all right, sure, tomorrow."
So Jack, reluctantly enough, for he felt, in a way, that he was deserting his plucky little comrade, got off the train at Beaver Dam, and rowed across the lake to the twinkling fire that showed where the rest of the Scouts were gathered.
He was welcomed with a shout.
"But where's Tom Binns?" cried Pete Stubbs finally, when they realized, suddenly, that the little fellow wasn't with them.
Then Jack explained. He told of the accident that had turned out, in the end, to be so fortunate a happening, since, had it not been for Tom's twisted ankle, they would never have reached the station, and the train might have been wrecked, with a terrible loss of life.
"So we couldn't finish our hike tonight, of course," said Jack. "We'll do it the next time, though. And a week or so doesn't make much difference."
A tall, bearded man, with a slouch hat, was sitting with Scout-Master Durland at the fire, and at Jack's last words he turned to the Scout-Master with a smile.
"I think you can afford to waive the strict letter of the rule this time, Durland," he said. "These boys of yours have certainly proved their right to be regarded as First Class Scouts. I don't know that there's any special badge of merit or honor, except the one for lifesaving, that they are entitled to, but I shall make it my business to see that the Scout council takes some action on the heroism of Scout Danby."
Then Jack learned that the stranger was a member of the National Scout Council, one of the highest officers of the organization, and a man famous all over the world as a pioneer and a worker for the things that the Boy Scouts stand for.
"You think that Scout Danby is entitled to his badge, then?" said Durland, unsmiling, and, at the other's quick nod, he called Jack up to the center of the group around the fire, and pinned the full Scout badge, of which Jack had thus far been wearing only the bar, to his breast.
"You have earned this badge by close attention to duty, and by being always prepared," said the Scout-Master, while the Scouts of the three Patrols cheered the reward. "We are all proud of you, Danby, and we know that you will never do anything to bring discredit upon your badge, nor do anything that is not strictly in accordance with the Scout oath that you took when you were first enrolled as a Tenderfoot Scout."
There was another burst of cheering at that, and all of the Scouts who were present crowded up to shake hands with Jack and congratulate him. Dick Crawford was one of the first, and gripped Jack's hand heartily.
"I guess you'll get a big reward out of the railroad," he said. "That's a splendid thing for you, Jack. You can use it to go to college, if you want to. They ought to be generous."
"The detective did say something about a reward, Dick, but I'd forgotten all about it for the moment. It will be divided up among Tom Binns, Hudson and myself, of course, if there is one. But I wasn't thinking about that."
"I know you weren't, Jack, but that's no reason why you shouldn't have it. It wouldn't be right to do a fine thing just because there was a reward, but that's no reason why you shouldn't take it. You helped to capture those fellows, and the chances are that they are well-known thieves, who are wanted for more than one crime."
"The detective recognized them, I think, Dick. He called them by name, and seemed to know all about them. I suppose men who would dare to try to do a thing like that must be old stagers. No man who was committing his first crime would try anything so fiendish as wrecking a train and taking the chance of killing a lot of innocent people, do you think?"
"I should say not! And there wasn't any chance about it, either. If the train had been wrecked, going at sixty miles an hour or so, as it would have been, if it was late, and trying to make up lost time, there couldn't have been any result but a terrible wreck."
"I wonder if there were only three of them?" said Jack, thoughtfully. "I've been thinking since that there may have been others in the gang that weren't caught. There must have been someone to set the blockade for the train, and I don't believe those fellows we caught had time to do everything. They had to put Hudson out of the way, you see, and keep him from using the telegraph to give warning. I've got an idea there was at least one other man in it, and maybe more than that, who didn't show up in the station at all."
"Well, if that's so, you'd better look out for yourself, Jack, in case they try to get even with you for spoiling their little game. They'd be apt to try to take that out of you."
"Perhaps they won't know I had anything to do with it. And, anyhow, I'm not sure there was anyone else mixed up in it. That's only a guess anyhow."
"I'd be careful, just the same. Don't go around alone at night—though you'll be safe enough in the city, I guess, unless some of those people that were mixed up in that kidnapping case get after you."
"They haven't anything more against me, or any more reason to be sore at me, than at anyone else that was concerned in the whole job, anyhow. But I'll keep my eyes open. I'll be glad to turn in pretty soon. I'm pretty tired."
"I should think you would be. I am myself, and I haven't done as much as you."
Soon after that sentries were posted, and the Scouts, wrapped in their blankets, were all asleep in their lean-tos. Jack's sleeping partner, Tom Binns, was not there, so he slept alone, on the edge of the camp, and some distance from the campfire.
Tired as he was, he did not get to sleep at once. Out on the lake puffing motor boats, running back and forth from the big summer hotel at the head of the lake to the cottages that were clustered near the dam, made the night noisy. Those people were late risers and they went to bed late as well. There was a dance at the hotel, and it was well attended. So the sharp beat of the engines of the little boats disturbed those who were trying to sleep. Jack was so tired, too, that it was hard for him to get to sleep.
He kept thinking of everything that had happened at Haskell Crossing, and of the desperate minutes in which, while he knew the fate that was in store for the onrushing train, he had been powerless to prevent the catastrophe that threatened. And then suddenly, while he was half asleep and half awake, he remembered something that had escaped him before, something he had seen and that had been recorded in his brain, although it was only now that the picture stood out vividly and with meaning.
There had been three men in the room with Hank Hudson and Tom Binns while he had waited at the window and spied upon them. And three men had returned, after he had seized the chance to give the warning that had saved the train. But they were not the same three. He remembered now, with a sudden flash of clear understanding that one of the three had been a stranger—that of the three who were caught, one was a man he had not seen before.
He started up in his blanket.
"Then therewerefour of them!" he cried, half aloud. "And one of them is free, and able to plan new deviltries. I wish they'd caught them all!"
But even that thought, disturbing as it was, did not keep him awake much longer. As he lay there, his tired body resting with the very act of lying down, he grew gradually more drowsy, and he drifted off asleep at last with the humming of a power boat on the lake beating against his ears.
He slept a long time. The camp was quiet. In the distance an owl hooted now and then, and until long after midnight the sounds of activity persisted on the lake. The moon had risen early, and was setting soon after midnight, so that it was very dark under the trees, though out on the lake, once the shadow of the trees around the shore was passed, the stars gave abundant light. And, because he was so tired, and trusted so entirely to the sentries, Jack had no thought of watchfulness when he fell asleep, and slept more heavily than was usual with him when he was in camp with the Scouts.
The sentries were posted on all sides of the camp, as a rule, but no one had foreseen the need of any watch on the side of the camp nearest the lake. Yet it was from that spot that danger came, in the end.
It was two o'clock when a launch, with silenced engine, glided up to the beach near the camp, as silently as a rowboat might have done, and grated softly on the shelving beach. One man, slight and delicate in appearance, was at her wheel, and from the bow, as she touched bottom, another stepped out into the water and made his way cautiously, and in roundabout fashion, toward the sleepers. He was big, strong, and massive. His face was concealed, or nearly concealed, by a black mask that hid his eyes and his nose and he walked with the stealthy footsteps of one long used to avoiding detection as he moved about his business. He seemed to know what he was doing, and where to go, and one might have guessed that he had been spying on the camp, to learn the way in which the sleepers were disposed. He avoided the lean-tos near the fire, and, sneaking back and around through the woods, he approached Jack Danby's lean-to from behind.
For a moment, silent and ominous in the darkness, he stood there, studying the situation, as it seemed, and making up his mind just how to accomplish his purpose. Then, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he took the cork from a small bottle and poured its contents on the handkerchief. At once a strong, sickly, sweetish smell arose, unhealthy, and unpleasant, in contrast to the strong, fresh smells of the sleeping woods. Holding this handkerchief in his hand, the newcomer, a savage grin of ugly satisfaction on his lips, approached Jack Danby, and, with a motion so swift as to be hardly visible, flung his hand, with the handkerchief flat on his palm, over Jack Danby's face.
Jack awoke at once and struggled for a second. But he could not cry out, and in a moment the handkerchief, soaked with chloroform, had done its work, and he lay unconscious.
Jack was entirely helpless, drugged as he was, and, with a triumphant leer, the man who had drugged him picked him up, and, moving as cautiously as ever, carried him to the motor boat. But he had underestimated the watchfulness of the Scout sentries. At the sudden, sharp explosions of the engine as it was started, and the launch backed off the beach, there was a sudden cry from one of the watchers, and in a moment his shrill whistle aroused the camp, so that a dozen Scouts, turning out hastily, saw the motor boat back out and turn, as if to race for the outlet at the foot of the lake, nearly ten miles away.
For a moment all was confusion in the camp. Awakened suddenly from a sound sleep, the Scouts could not at first tell what had happened.
The sentry who gave the alarm had seen only the one thing—the motor boat backing out from the beach.
"It's nothing," said Bob Hart, sleepily. "Someone mistook this for their own landing, and, when they found out their mistake, backed out and went for their own cottage."
But Dick Crawford thought suddenly of Jack Danby.
"Jack!" he shouted. "Jack Danby!"
There was no answer, and a swift rush to his lean-to proved that it was empty. Durland and Dick Crawford ran there together, and Durland recognized the smell of the chloroform at once.
"There's been foul play here!" he cried, furiously. "Someone has drugged Jack and carried him away."
He called for Crawford then, but the Assistant Scout-Master was already gone to the rescue.
"Get to the outlet as soon as you can!" he shouted, and they heard him breaking through the woods to the road that was near by. "I'm going there on my wheel!"
Dick had ridden to the camp on his motorcycle, and now they heard the sharp clatter of its engine as he started it.
"If they're making for the outlet, he'll head them off," said Durland. "Hart, take your Patrol and go up to the dam there, in case they went that way. The rest of you follow me. We'll take Crawford's route, and see if we can't get there in time to help him. I'm afraid Danby is in the gravest sort of danger."
They followed him with a shout, half dressed as most of them were. Jack Danby didn't lack friends, at least, even if he did have powerful and determined enemies.
Needless to say, it was some time after he was roughly thrown into the bottom of the motor boat before Jack came to his senses. The chloroform had taken effect quickly, and the soaked handkerchief had not remained very long over his mouth and nostrils, or Jack might have ended his career then and there. As it was, however, the rush of the cool night air as the swift motor boat sped along the quiet waters of the lake did a good deal to revive him, and it was, comparatively speaking, only a short time before he realized where he was—or, rather, realized that he had been snatched from his blanket, and was being carried off somewhere, probably by those who had anything but good-will toward him.
His first impulse was to cry out, but he checked himself, for he realized that his best chance just then was to feign an ignorance of his surroundings that would throw his abductors off their guard. If he made them think that he was still senseless, he might find some way of escape opening before him, and he might, too, overhear something that he could turn to his own advantage.
It was pitch dark in the bottom of the boat, and his eyes, moreover, were aching. His whole head throbbed as he came out of the effects of the deadly drug that had been used to make him helpless, and he decided that the first thing he should do was to give nature and the healing air a chance to restore him to his senses and some semblance of a better physical condition. He was in no state now to do anything to help himself, and he had no idea of whether or not any of his comrades had taken the alarm when he was carried off. He was senseless when the men who had caught him were making their escape, and he had no way of telling what had happened.
He guessed, even before he saw the evil face of the man who sat up in the bow, stripped now of his black mask, and gloating over his success, that it was one of the trapped and disappointed train wreckers who now had him in his power, and he shivered a little at the thought of what his fate might be. A man who had planned such a fiendish crime was not likely to be anything but brutal in his treatment of one of those who had helped to foil him, and Jack understood that perfectly well. If he had needed anything more to make him realize his position it was supplied in a moment.
"I wonder if that young whelp's shammin', or if we really knocked him out with the dope?" asked the man who had worn the mask.
And, by way of finding out, he lurched back, and kicked Jack brutally in the ribs. Jack expected the blow, and managed to relax so that no bones were broken by the kick, though he was sore for hours. Moreover he fortified himself so that, although the pain of the kick was far from trifling, he did not cry out.
Satisfied, the man made his way to the bow.
"Dead to the world!" he said. "That's all right! We'll get him through the lock. That's better. I don't want to knock him on the head and throw him overboard here—his body would turn up too soon. Once we're through the lock we can get down the river all right, and they'll never know what happened to him. I hope Dick don't make any mistake about meeting us with the big boat. This is a tidy little craft, but she's not meant for deep water sailing."
"How about the others?" asked the man at the wheel, in a nervous, timid tone that made Jack grin. Only one of his captors was formidable, anyhow, and that was something to be thankful for.
"I don't care about the others," replied the other, with a vile oath. "They'll have to save themselves. And they'll be in jail for the next ten years, sure. More fools they for gettin' caught! An' it was only kids as did them up. If they'd taken my advice, it wouldn't never have happened."
"You oughtn't to have stopped for this kid. It was too risky."
"Risk? My eye! Ain't everythin' we do risky? An' it's the only chance the others have got, anyhow. He's the biggest witness against them. He saw their mugs—no one else did. They'll have trouble getting off, anyhow, even if he ain't there. But he'd finish them, sure. An' he cost me twenty thousand dollars with his infernal buttin' in, too. I ain't overlookin' a chance to get hunk with him, the little rip!"
He was almost shouting in his rage.
"Easy there!" said the timid one, in a low tone. "We're getting near the lock. Look out, or you'll have everyone on to us."
"Right, oh! I'll shut up. Time enough to attend to him later, anyhow."
The boat slowed down, now, and Jack guessed that they were near the lock that formed the outlet of the lake into the river that ran through the city, the same river on which he had his exciting experience with the river pirates. Late as it was, the lock was quickly opened at the insistent, shrill call of the power boat's whistle, and in a moment it was in the narrow channel that led from river to lake.
It was Jack's chance. Here, where the banks were close on either side, if he could slip overboard, there was a chance to swim to the safety of the shore. He was still weak and dizzy from the effects of the drug, but he had an idea that if he could get into the water it would complete the work of reviving him, and he determined to make the effort. Both of the men who made up the crew of the little craft were busy as they passed through the lock, and, thinking him unconscious, they paid no attention to him.
Silently he slipped to the side. And, a second later, he dropped overboard. Silent as he was, he made a splash as he struck the water, and, at the sudden curse from the robber in front, and his quick leap around, Jack determined on the boldest and the riskiest move he could have made. But it was also the safest. Instead of striking out at once for the shore, he slipped around behind the motor boat, and clung to the stern as it swept along, clear of the propeller, but hidden by the shadow from the overhanging stern.
At the same moment there was a sudden outburst of shouts from the shore, and where all had been silence and darkness lights sprang out and the forms of excited, running men and boys appeared.
The headlight of an automobile was suddenly thrown on the scene, and Jack, guessing who was there, called out that he was safe and in the water.
"Swim ashore, Jack," shouted Dick Crawford's welcome voice, and a moment later, all fear of his captors gone now, Jack was helped up the steep bank.
"We got them in a trap," cried Dick Crawford. "I figured they'd have to come this way. They can't turn around, and the gate of the lock is closed against them at the river end. They're bottled in here, and they can't escape, no matter which way they turn."
In the power boat the big man who had carried Jack off was standing up now, cursing volubly, and trying to see what lay ahead of him. But it did not take him long to see and realize that all hope of escape in that direction was cut off. The boat had come to a full stop, and he looked about him in desperation, his mask on his face again. He held a revolver in his hand, but, for some reason, he did not fire.
"Careful, fellows!" cried Dick Crawford. "He's got a gun there, and you can't tell how soon he'll begin shooting."
"Not very soon, Dick," said Jack Danby, with a laugh. "He left his gun within reach of me, thinking I was still senseless, and I took all the cartridges out. There was a box half full of cartridges and I dropped that overboard, too, so I guess his teeth are drawn unless one of them has another gun."
"Good work, Jack! He'd find it hard to hit any of us, but it's good to think he can't even try, anyhow. You surely had your nerve with you to think of that."
"I had to, Dick. I was going to make a break for it here in the lock, anyhow, and I didn't want him to be able to take a shot at me from behind while I was trying to climb up to the shore. It would have been too easy for him to hit me, and from the way he talked there's nothing he'd like better than to use me as a target."
Suddenly the roar of the boat's engine broke put again.
"What's he trying to do now?" shouted Dick, racing for the opening of the lock.
The gate that barred the boat was in place. But suddenly Dick understood. The desperado in the launch intended to be true to his nature. He saw just one chance of escape in a thousand, and he meant to take it, perilous as it was.
Straight for the gate he drove the boat. The man at the wheel was crying out in piteous fear and the burly ruffian stepped back from the bow, crushed his friend to the deck of the boat with a brutal blow, and took the wheel himself.
"They'll both be killed," cried Dick. "He can't mean to drive against the gate."
But that was just what was in the desperate robber's mind. He saw and weighed the chances that were against him, but he was ready to risk life itself for liberty, and, in that desperate moment even Dick and Jack, debased as they knew the man to be, could not but admire his daredevil courage.
At top speed the launch crushed into the barrier. There was a terrific crash, and those, including Durland, who stood on the gate, leaped back precipitately.
For an instant the timbers shivered. Then, with a crash, they gave way, and the launch hurled through and dropped to the surface of the river. There, for a moment, it spun around. But the boat was well built. It stood the shock, and the next second, swaying from side to side, it was dashing away, past the possibility of pursuit. Jack was saved, but the villain had escaped—for the time at least.
Though Jack Danby, partly through his own courage and determination, and partly by reason of Dick Crawford's quick thinking, had escaped from the hands of the desperado who had so evidently determined to murder him, Scout-Master Durland was anything but easy in his mind regarding his friend, as he was proud to call the young Scout who had done so well whenever he had been put to the test.
He did not want to alarm Jack himself without cause, but to Dick Crawford he spoke without hesitation.
"I'm worried about Jack, Dick," he said. "These villains are quite capable of making another attack on him, and that would never do."
"I should say not, sir! He might not get off so lightly another time."
"That's just what I'm afraid of. If they strike against him once more they are more than likely to realize that to have a chance against him, they must strike quickly. If that scoundrel had had the slightest idea that the alarm had been given, or that poor Jack was conscious, I am afraid Danby would have had very little chance of his life."
"It makes me sick to think of what they might have done. That was what I was thinking of all along as I rode for the lock."
"You made good time getting there, Dick."
"I felt as if I had to! I was helpless as long as they were out on the lake, where it was broad. Even a boat would have been useless. If they had seen a boat making for them, they would have known at once that they were in danger, and would have either gotten rid of Jack or made a desperate stand, with a good chance of beating off any attack. The lock was the only place to reach them—and that meant fast moving, or I would have been too late."
"Well, what I meant to say was that we ought, if it is at all possible, to take steps to see that Jack does not again expose himself to any such risk. He is too valuable a Scout to have him take chances that are not necessary."
"Especially since he doesn't seem to know what fear is. He never stops to think of the effect of anything he does upon himself. He goes ahead and trusts to luck, if he thinks that it is his duty to do anything, if there seems to be danger. So, when there is no need of his being in peril, it is only right to do all we can to guard him."
"Tom Binns and Pete Stubbs are devoted to him, aren't they, Dick?"
"I think either one of them would go through fire or water for him if there was need."
"Well, then, suppose you get hold of them quietly, without letting Jack learn anything about what you are planning, and have them keep a close watch on his movements. They can do it without arousing his suspicion, and, if he seems likely to do anything that would give these fellows a chance to get at him, we will interfere, if possible, and spoil their little plan."
"That's the idea, sir! Those two boys will be trustworthy, and they've got a lot of good horse sense, too."
"This may prove a very important commission for the two of them, though I hope, of course, that we are afraid of a shadow, and that Jack has nothing more to fear from these men."
Tom Binns and Pete Stubbs were delighted when Dick Crawford told them what he wanted them to do.
"Gee, Dick," said Pete, "that makes us like a couple of sure enough detectives, don't it?"
"Yes—except that you're supposed to prevent anything crooked from being done, and not simply to find out how it was done afterward, and who did it. We don't want any work for detectives that Jack Danby is the centre of."
"I understand," said Tom Binns. "Pete and I are just to keep our eyes open, and if we think Jack is running into any danger, we're to let you know, so that you can help to keep him out of it."
"I think there's more than one person would like to see Jack out of the way," said Pete Stubbs, thoughtfully. "You know, he's told me something lately about this queer business of his name. It looks mighty funny to me. There are people, he says, who know who his father and mother were, and who are mighty angry and sorry that he's left Woodleigh and dropped out of their sight."
"Is that so, Pete?" asked Dick, surprised, since he had heard nothing of all this.
"Yes, indeed! There was a man who has been up at Woodleigh, trying to find out exactly where Jack had gone, and what he was doing. Jack seemed to think that this man was satisfied to have him up at Woodleigh, where people wouldn't see much of him and weren't likely to be curious about who he was."
"And where anyone who wanted to could keep tabs on him pretty well, eh? That's easier to do in a little country place like that, where everyone knows the business of everyone else, than it would be in a big city like this, isn't it?"
Dick was very thoughtful.
"I've heard funny stories about Jack Danby and his name," he went on. "In fact, Jack's told me himself that Danby really isn't his name at all, and that he has no idea of what his real name is. As he gets older, naturally, it means a great deal to him that he isn't like all the rest of us, and doesn't know all about himself. It doesn't make any difference to his real friends, but it bothers him, naturally. I think we'll have to see if we can't help him solve that mystery, don't you?"
"I'd give anything if I could make Jack happy by telling him all about himself!" cried little Tom Binns, full of love and loyalty for the friend who had always done so much for him.
"Well, we'll see," said Dick. "Meantime, if Jack has the best name in the world, it wouldn't do him much good if it had to be carved on a tombstone before he's had a chance to use it at all, and if that fellow that carried him off from our camp ever gets another chance at him, that's what he'll be needing."
It wasn't like Dick Crawford to be alarmed by anything as a rule, and the two Scouts were mightily impressed by his solemn tone and the warning he gave, as he meant them to be. He didn't want them to go into the work of guarding Jack as if he were simply a figure in a new and fascinating game. He wanted them to take the task very seriously, and give their best efforts to it. And, after such a speech, he had no doubt that they would carry out his intentions, and that if there were any way of making Jack safe from future attacks they would find it.
Jack himself suffered no ill effects worth mentioning from his rough experience, unpleasant as it had been.
"Gee, Jack," said Pete Stubbs, when he saw his chum the morning after his rescue, "one would think, just to look at you, that you liked having a chap chloroform you and kick you around a little bit of a boat. You look great!"
"I had a good night's sleep, Pete. That's why. Look at the time—it's the middle of the afternoon, isn't it? I felt a lot more tired the day after that baseball double header than I do right now. They didn't really hurt me, you see. And that swim in the cold water was just what I needed to make me feel fine after it, too. That chased the headache the drug gave me, and set me up in fine shape."
"I tell you why, Jack. It's because you always take a lot of exercise and look after yourself all the time, that things like that don't upset you."
"Say, Pete, Tom Binns is coming around here again, later. I feel so good that I think I'd like to go and do something this afternoon. What do you say? I think it would be fine to go down to the lake and have a great old swim. Summer don't last so long that I want to miss any of the swimming while it's as good as it is now."
"I'll go you!" said Pete, never thinking that it might be just such expeditions that Dick Crawford was afraid of. "Say, wouldn't it be fine to live in a place where you can go swimming all the year round, like Florida, or California, or some place like that?"
"I don't know that it would, Pete. I think all the seasons are good, in their own time. You wouldn't like never to see the snow, or to be in a place where it never froze and made ice for skating, would you?"
"Say, Jack, I never thought of that! That's a funny thing about you. You never go off the way the rest of us do, without thinking about things. You think of all sides of anything. I wish I was like that. I wouldn't make so many fool breaks!"
"Old Dan used to catch me up every time I said anything in a hurry," explained Jack, with a smile. "I guess that's the reason I'm that way, if I really am, Pete. It isn't that I'm any more likely to think of things than you, but that I've been trained that way. Whenever I said anything reckless, or quick, Old Dan used to ask me why I said it, and make me try to prove it. So I got to thinking about everything I said before I let myself say it, and I've sort of kept up the habit."
"I'm going to try to be like that, too, Jack. I think it's a good way to be."
"Well, here's Tom Binns! Want to go swimming with us, Tom?"
"You bet I do, Jack! Sure you feel well enough, though? You don't want to take any chances on being sick after what you were up against last night, you know."
"No. I'll be all right. Come on."
So they went off. The day was warm, but overcast, and there was a threat of a thunderstorm in the sultriness of it. But they cared little for that.
"If we're going to get wet," said Pete, "we might as well do it comfortably. We won't be any wetter for a thunderstorm than if the sun were shining if we're in swimming."
They changed their clothes in a little hut at the camping place, and went in from the little sandy beach there, the presence of which was one of the reasons the Scouts had favored it for a camping ground.
They had not been in the water very long before great drops of water, began to fall, and then, with a howling of wind, the threatened storm came down. They laughed and enjoyed the novelty of being in the water in such weather, since they were in a sheltered cove. Presently the wind died down and furious thunder and lightning came to take its place, but that didn't bother them, either. It was not until, after a vivid flash and an immediate roar of thunder, cries of distress came from the lake, that they were aroused. They looked out, and saw a burning launch.
"Gee," cried Pete Stubbs, his face white, "the lightning must have fired their gasolene tank! Let's get out there and see if we can't help."
At once they swam to the rescue.
The launch fortunately was not very far out. Had it been more than a hundred feet or so from shore no one could have done much for the unfortunate party on board, since beyond the shelter of the cove the lake was like a stormy sea, with white-capped waves defying swimmers, and giving even the stoutest of the craft that had been caught in the squall all they could do to make headway against the wind.
The three Scouts, swimming strong and fast, saw as soon as they were within plain sight of the launch that she was doomed. The fire had spread with a rapidity that would have been astonishing had it been anything but gasolene that supplied fuel for the flames over the after portion of the boat, where the tank had been. Up in the bow, huddled together, and shrieking for help, were two men and two women. They seemed to be terrified, and none of them had thought to seek safety by dropping overboard. They seemed, indeed, to prefer to stay and wait for the fire to reach them, which it threatened to do at any moment.
It was no time to waste breath on words, but Jack, who had taken command of the situation, as he always seemed to do, held his head well out of the water to see what lay in front of them and then turned to his companions.
"They can't swim," he said. "We'll have to make them jump overboard, though, and take a chance in the water. Then, if they don't get troublesome, we'll probably be able to keep them up until help comes. You know how to choke them if they try to drag you down. And don't hesitate, even if it's a woman. It's better to be rough with them than to let them drown."
Even in the water the heat from the blazing launch was terrific as the three Scouts approached the burning boat. For those on board it was even worse. The flames were almost touching them as Jack and the others got within a boat length of the burning boat, and Jack cupped his hands and shouted through them, so that those on board could hear him above the roar of the flames and their own cries of terror and distress.
"Jump into the water!" he cried. "Don't struggle, and we'll be able to hold you up all right. But jump quick—it's your only chance!"
One of the women—she was a girl, not more than twenty, Jack thought—jumped at once. Sparks had set her hair on fire, but the water put that out as soon as she was in it, and Pete Stubbs, who was nearest to her, swam to her at once, and supported her in the water. She was plucky, and made no attempt to interfere with him. He told her to put her hand on his shoulder and keep perfectly still, and she obeyed without question.
"Good work!" cried Jack. "Swim ashore with her, Pete, and then come back here. We need all the help we can get if these others are scared to jump."
But whether they were scared or not, the fire left them no choice after a moment more. One after another the three of them jumped.
The two men, who were both fairly young, seemed to be plucky enough. They waited quietly enough for Tom Binns to swim to them, and, by treading water, he was able to let each one of them put a hand on his shoulder, so that they could keep their own heads out of water. He couldn't swim with them, but he could, at least, keep them from sinking until help came. That could not be very long, since the blazing launch was a signal of danger and the need of help for everyone who could see it.
But Jack's task was more difficult and dangerous by far, both for himself and for the woman he was trying to save. She had been mad with terror when she jumped, and, as soon as she felt Jack's arm about her, after she had struck the water, she fastened both her arms about him convulsively, and began dragging him down with her. Her strength was greater than Jack's, since she was a big, powerful woman, and Jack had no chance to break her hold on him by ordinary methods.
"Let go!" he cried. "I'll save you if you'll leave me alone and just put your hand on my shoulder. You'll drag us both down if you keep this up!"
But she only shrieked the louder, when her lungs were not so full of water as to silence her, and Jack felt his strength going, and knew, that in order to save either of them, he must be brutal. So, without a moment's hesitation he seized her hair, which had come down about her shoulders, and pulled until he wondered why it did not come out by the roots.
She continued to shriek, but it was with pain now instead of fright, and in a moment her arms relaxed their desperate grip about Jack's arms and shoulders, so that he was free. She continued to struggle like a madwoman, however, and, since there was nothing else to do, Jack hit her again and again, until she was afraid of him, and ready to do what he told her.
It had taken him some time, and as he turned with the woman he had saved, limp and helpless now, to swim for the shore, Pete Stubbs passed him.
"Want any help, Jack?" cried Pete.
"No, thanks! We're all right now. Go on out and help Tom and the two he's got, Pete. You two can get them ashore all right, I guess."
Only the woman that Jack had saved was in need of attention when they were all finally ashore. She was half drowned, thanks to the struggle she had put up after she had jumped into the water, but it was not much of a task to revive her, and when she had regained her senses she, like the others, was grateful. Jack himself was tired and pretty well exhausted by his exertions, but he cared little for that, since he had been successful. A few minutes' rest, and he was all right.
"Our launch—it's burned up, I guess!" cried the girl who had been so sensible and plucky, the one who had let Pete Stubbs tow her ashore without making a single movement to hamper him in any way. "Look, the fire seems to be out, but I don't believe there's much left of the poor little boat."
The driving rain and the lake water had, indeed, put the fire out, and the blackened hull of the launch, which had drifted slightly toward the shore, was floating quietly now.
"I'll swim out and see what sort of shape she's in," said Jack. "Perhaps she's worth saving yet. The engine may be all right, with a little repair work, and I think I can tow her in without much trouble. She's drifted pretty close in already."
He plunged in at once, without heeding the protests from the rescued ones, who said he had already done more than enough for them. A minute of fast swimming took him out to the launch, and he climbed aboard, cautiously, to see what damage had been done. The boat smelled most unpleasantly of the fire, and he found that the engine would need a good deal of attention before it would be of service again. But the forward part of the boat had suffered comparatively slight damage, as Jack saw with pleasure. Then, suddenly, as he looked around him, he saw something that made him jump.
"It can't be!" he exclaimed to himself.
But a few moments of examination convinced him that he had made no mistake. He searched the boat then from stem to stern, and, when he had satisfied himself, he dropped overboard again, after making a rope he had carried with him from the shore fast to the launch, and towed her leisurely in, until her keel grated on the beach, and the men who had been on board pulled her up beyond high water mark.
As soon as he could then Jack drew Pete Stubbs aside.
"Say, Pete," he said, in a low tone, and tremendously excited, "here's a queer business! That launch is the one that was used to carry me off last night. I'm absolutely certain! I stayed on board long enough to make sure. Do you suppose these people can be mixed up with that scoundrel? It's the same boat—and if you'll notice, when you get a chance, she's been patched up in front, right where she must have been smashed up in going through that lock. What do you make of that?"
Pete looked frightened as he realized what it might mean.
"I know one thing we ought to do," he said. "That is let Tom Binns get hold of Dick Crawford right away and tell him about this. There's something mighty funny doing, and I don't think we can get at the bottom of it by ourselves."
"That's a good idea, Pete! Tom's the fastest runner. You get him off by himself and tell him to get Dick Crawford. They'll have to stay around here until their clothes dry off, anyhow, so I guess we can manage to hold them here until he comes back."
Tom had already put on his clothes, and he was able to slip off quietly, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the shivering castaways, who, muffled in blankets that were kept by the Boy Scouts in the hut near the beach, were waiting while their clothes dried out.
When he had gone off Jack and Pete busied themselves with making a fire. It was still raining, but not very hard, but if the clothes of those from the burned boat were to be dried that night a fire was necessary. And, as they worked, Jack got a chance to examine the party more closely.
The men didn't please him very much as he looked them over. They looked like cheap, flashy fellows, who might be fond of drinking and smoking because they thought it made them look like men. Indeed, one of them, as soon as the fire was made, and he had seated himself as close to it as possible, asked Jack if he had a cigarette or the makings of one, and seemed scornful when Jack told him that he never smoked.
The woman who had given Jack so much trouble, too, was hard of face and unpleasant in her speech. She scowled at Jack as if she resented the rough way he had handled her, and seemed entirely forgetful now of the fact that he had had to treat her in just that way to save his life—to say nothing of her own. But the younger girl, whose hair had been on fire when she jumped, was sweet of face, and had been trying to show how grateful she was ever since she had been brought ashore. She looked sadly out of place when compared to her companions, and Jack wondered mightily how she came to be with them. He couldn't say anything about it, however, and he and Pete busied themselves with trying to make those they had rescued comfortable. After all, Jack thought, these people had been in the gravest sort of peril, and it made no difference whether they were pleasant or not. To go to the rescue had been no more than their duty as Scouts, and no Scout is ever supposed to stop and think about personal likes or dislikes when he has a chance to be of service to anyone in trouble or danger and needs help a Scout can give.
Jack, looking around for Pete Stubbs after he had been off to bring up a fresh supply of dry firewood, since the wood all about the fire itself was damp and too wet to burn with the bright heat that was needed to dry the clothes of the victims of the fire, found that his red-headed chum was missing. The two women, in fact, were the only ones about. He looked in surprise for the men of the party, and then spoke.
"Your friends haven't gone off without their clothes?" he said.
"No," replied the older woman. "They've just gone off to have a look at the launch, and they look like red Indians. I'm sure our clothes are taking long enough to dry—and when we get them, I suppose we'll have to walk miles and miles to get anywhere!"
"We're lucky to be able to walk at all," said the girl, interrupting, then. "I think we ought to be very grateful, Mrs. Broom, instead of complaining so much about what's a very little discomfort, anyhow."
Jack liked her for that speech, as he had already liked her for the pluck she had shown. But before he could answer her, he was seized suddenly from behind, and a cloth was thrown over his head, so that he could not cry out. He heard the girl scream, and one of the men shout roughly to her to keep out and not interfere. Then he was carried away swiftly.
But his captivity did not last very long. Before he had been carried more than a hundred paces the man who was carrying his head stumbled suddenly, and, cursing, went down in a heap. The one behind, who had Jack's feet, fell over him, and Jack, active as a cat, worked himself free in a second, and twisted the bag from his head.
"Soak 'em, Jack!" cried a cheery voice, and he realized that Pete Stubbs, alarmed in some way, had been ready to rescue him, and had seized the exact moment to do it. Now Pete, with a cry of exultation, snatched the blankets from the two men, who were struggling with one another on the ground, and ran off with them.
"Get their clothes, Jack!" he shouted. "They were carrying them in a bundle. They can't go very far that way."
Jack laughed as he saw the dark bundle of clothes and picked it up. Then he ran swiftly after Pete, chuckling at the savage threats and exclamations from the two men, who, without a stitch of clothing, would certainly not dare to pursue them very far, for fear of being seen in that state of nature, as well as for the brambles and thorns that would scratch them if they attempted to make their way through the woods without the protection of clothes and, more especially, shoes.
At the camp they found Dick Crawford, who had returned with Tom Binns. The two women, their clothes dry by this time, had taken possession of the hut to make themselves presentable, and Dick in silent astonishment heard Jack's story.
"There's something queer behind all this," said he. "The attack those fellows made on Jack shows that they are pretty hard characters. Why, he'd just saved their lives for them!"