“The fellow is in a hurry anyway,” suggested Grant. “Even if he doesn’t know what he wants he wants it right away.”
At that moment the sound of the footsteps of some one in their rear startled both the young watchers and as they glanced behind them they discovered a man approaching. Apparently he had come from the woods where they had begun their search for their missing friends, but it was quickly manifest that he was as startled by his discovery of the presence of the boys as they had been at his coming.
For a moment it seemed to both George and Grant that the man was about to turn and flee from the spot. However, apparently he thought better and at once advanced toward the place where the boys were standing.
At the same moment the boys looked again at the approaching boat and to the surprise of both of them they recognized the man at the wheel as the one in whose house they had been received on Cockburn Island several days before.
What the coming of the man implied neither of the boys understood, but at that moment, however, the man who had approached from the woods shouted in his loudest tones to George and Grant. Startled by the unexpected sound the two boys instantly turned and fled quickly from the spot.
So wearied were Fred and John by the exciting experiences of the day that as soon as they were left to themselves they were sound asleep.
How long they had slept neither was aware when at last both awoke. The little cabin was dark except for a faint light streaming in through the open porthole.
“Where are we, Jack?” called Fred in a low voice.
“Why, don’t you know?” replied John. “We’re on board that boat that picked us up.”
“Oh, yes, I remember now. How are you?”
“All right I guess, though I feel as if I had been breaking stones or lifting weights all my life.”
“I guess you wouldn’t feel that way if you really had,” responded Fred lightly. “A fellow’s muscles would get used to the work if he had to do it all the time. Where do you suppose we are?”
“I haven’t any idea. We’re moving, though, all the time, that’s plain.”
“Yes, I can hear the swash of the water. I wonder if we are anywhere near Mackinac Island.”
“Let’s go up and find out,” suggested John and hastily the boys left their bunk and made their way to the deck.
The stars were shining and it was manifest to the boys that the morning light had not yet appeared.
Perceiving a man near the stern of the boat they at once approached him and made known their presence.
“Where are we?” inquired Fred.
“We’ll be in Sault Ste. Marie in about a half an hour.”
“What!” exclaimed Fred.
“That’s right, lad,” said the sailor.
“When did we pass Mackinac Island?”
“Mackinac Island! Why we left that a good many hours ago.”
“Why didn’t you stop and put us off?”
“We don’t make any stop anywhere. I guess the captain told you that we couldn’t stop there. That doesn’t make any difference, however, we’ll be in Sault Ste. Marie pretty soon and then you boys can stop all you want to.”
“How shall we get back to Mackinac?” inquired John.
“I can’t say,” laughed the sailor, who appeared to regard the plight of the boys more or less as a joke. “My suggestion would be to wait there and when one of the line boats come through go back on that. There will be one out somewhere about noon.”
“Probably that’s the best we can do,” said Fred meekly. “You say we’ll be there in about a half an hour?”
“Yes.”
The boys at once returned to their cabin, but to their dismay they discovered that the clothes in which they had been rescued were still too wet to be donned.
“There’s no help for it,” said John disconsolately. “If this old tub stops long enough at Sault Ste. Marie we can go ashore even in these togs we have on. Come on back on deck and we’ll find out how long the stop is.”
Returning to the deck the boys learned that the boat on which they were sailing was to remain six hours at Sault Ste. Marie.
“That’s all right,” said Fred as he and John withdrew to another part of the deck. “We’ll go ashore just as we are and before the boat sails we’ll have a chance to change our clothes.”
The boys were interested in spite of their predicament in the low lying shores past which they were steadily moving. It was sufficiently light to enable them to mark several parks, evidently playgrounds of the people of the little city which they were approaching.
True to the prophecy of the sailor the boat drew alongside a dock within the half-hour. Again assuring themselves that the vessel would not depart within six hours, the boys at once leaped ashore and started together up the wide street upon which they now found themselves.
There were low buildings on each side and to their surprise the boys were soon aware that many people were moving about the street although it was not yet three o’clock in the morning. Among these strangers they noticed numbers of Indians. This fact, together with the decorations of many of the buildings which were to be seen, indicated that either a festival or a holiday of some kind had been celebrated the preceding day, or that the city was preparing for some event of importance.
“We didn’t pay the captain anything for bringing us up here,” suggested John, as he and his companion slowly walked up the street.
“That’s right,” said Fred. “Besides,” he added hastily, “I haven’t a cent of money in my pocket, have you?”
“Not in these pockets,” laughed John, whose spirits now had returned. “We’ll have to go back and get some money if we are going to get any breakfast.”
“But I haven’t any money in my other pockets,” said Fred ruefully.
“And I haven’t either,” added John laughing as he spoke. “I didn’t think we would want any money yesterday so I didn’t take any with me.”
“My mother would say that this is another good lesson. She says I am all the while out of money and I ought to have enough with me to provide for what I want.”
“That’s the difficulty,” said John. “It isn’t so much getting the money as it is keeping it. But this is no joke, Fred. Neither of us has any money and I don’t believe up here even at Sault Ste. Marie they will give us something to eat unless we pay for it.”
“I put my watch in my pocket,” said Fred. “I don’t see anything for us to do except to hock that.”
“Maybe some fellow that keeps a restaurant will take it as security and hold it until we can redeem it.”
“We’ll try that,” said Fred quickly. “I wish we could find some place open now.”
“Perhaps we can, there are so many people on the street,” said John. “Come on let’s go further on and try it.”
In accordance with John’s suggestion the boys walked rapidly up the street and soon to their delight they discovered a restaurant which evidently was being patronized at that early hour. Several people could be seen seated at the small tables within the room, and, encouraged by the sight, the boys at once entered.
At the cashier’s desk a woman was seated, but evidently she had been there throughout the night. There were moments when her head nodded and she plainly was greatly in need of sleep.
At once approaching her Fred said, “We have been unfortunate.”
“I’m afraid you’re not the only ones,” said the woman sitting quickly erect as she heard the unexpected statement.
“I guess that’s right,” laughed Fred, “but we fell into the lake and were picked up by a boat that did not stop until it got to Sault Ste. Marie.”
“Where did you want it to stop?” inquired the woman.
“Mackinac Island.”
“Where were you working there?” she inquired.
“Working?” laughed Fred. “We weren’t working at all. We were staying at one of the hotels.”
For a moment the woman glanced quickly at the young spokesman and then shaking her head began to laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” demanded Fred irritated by her manner.
“I guess you had the parlor suit,” said the woman still laughing at the boys before her. “You look as if you belong to John Jacob Astor’s family. It may be that you look better than he did when he used to come there, but I guess you wouldn’t pass for much more.”
For the first time the boys were aware that the strange garb in which they were clad certainly did not imply that they had been guests at any prominent summer hotel. Both suits were ill-fitting and worn, and if either had been plunged in soap and water within a year there was nothing in the garments to imply such action.
For a moment Fred was nonplussed and then hastily thrusting his hand into his pocket he drew forth his watch.
“How will that do?” he said as he placed the gold watch on the desk. It was a beautiful little time-piece, a present he had received on his sixteenth birthday from his father. “You’ll take that as security, I guess,” he said lightly, “and when we get back to Mackinac Island we’ll send you the money or come with it and get the watch.”
Picking up the time-piece the woman gazed curiously at it and then again looking sharply at the boys she said, “Where did you get that?”
“It was a present,” said Fred.
“Who gave it to you?”
“My father.”
“Does he live on Fifth Avenue, New York?”
“He does not,” said Fred slowly.
“Oh, I thought maybe he did,” sniffed the woman. “That’s the kind of watches they have in New York City. It isn’t the kind that most of the roustabouts carry on the lakes.”
“But I’m not a roustabout,” said Fred.
“You don’t need to say what you are,” said the woman. “All I can say is that I shan’t take that watch. I don’t want the police in here.”
“Police!” exclaimed Fred. “What do you mean? What would the police come for?”
“For one thing they would come for the watch and another thing they would want would be the fellow that took it.”
“Did you think I stole that watch?” demanded Fred.
“I’m not saying nothing,” said the woman. “All I say is that if any boys on the lake are seen carrying watches like that it is most generally known how they got them. My advice to you is to stick that watch in your pocket again and don’t let anybody see it while you’re in Sault Ste. Marie.”
“You needn’t trouble yourself any more,” said Fred as he took the watch and thrust it again into his pocket. Then turning to John he said, “Come on, Jack, we won’t stay here another minute.”
When the boys were once more on the street Fred’s indignation soon gave way to a feeling of alarm. Not only were they without any means of securing breakfast, to say nothing of their passage back to Mackinac Island, but also they might be regarded as suspicious characters. Evidently the woman keeper of the restaurant had believed they had stolen the watch.
“Never mind, Fred,” suggested John. “It will all come out right. We’ll try it again.”
“We might pawn the watch,” said Fred thoughtfully.
“But there’s no pawn shop open.”
“Well, there probably will be a little later. There must be a good many such shops in a place like this. I’m getting hungry.”
“So am I,” said John fervently, “but that doesn’t do me any good. There’s another restaurant down yonder,” he added quickly, pointing down the street as he spoke. “It’s almost light now and we might try it there.”
“All right,” said Fred. “I’m not very hopeful, but they can’t do any more than throw us out.”
“Unless they arrest us as suspicious characters,” suggested John somewhat ruefully.
“We’ll never know until we try anyway,” said Fred resolutely. “Come on, Jack, we’ll soon know what is going to happen to us. If we get into jail we’ll have to telegraph the boys to bail us out.”
“But we don’t know where the fellows are,” declared John.
“That’s as sure as you live. I had almost forgotten about that. We certainly are having our troubles on this trip, aren’t we?”
By this time the boys had stopped in front of the restaurant they were seeking and at once entering they looked quickly about the room for the proprietor.
At once advancing toward the man whom they discovered walking about the room Fred said quietly, “My friend and I are in trouble. We were out in a skiff yesterday and the little boat got to leaking so badly that we both of us had to stay in the water. We were there a half-day, and then we were picked up by a boat which did not stop at Mackinac Island and brought us straight through to Sault Ste. Marie.”
“Where were you?” inquired the man suspiciously as he glanced keenly at Fred.
“We were staying at Mackinac Island, but had gone over across to one of the islands on the Canadian shore.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Looking for our friends.”
“Where were they?”
“That’s what we were trying to find out,” said Fred ruefully. “There were two other fellows with us and they got lost.”
“And you want me to give you some breakfast, is that it?” said the proprietor abruptly.
“No, we don’t want you to ‘give’ us anything,” retorted Fred. “I have got my watch here and I thought perhaps if I left it as security you would let us have some breakfast. We’ll send you the money just as soon as we can go back to Mackinac. These clothes we have on,” he added as he perceived that the man was closely regarding their outfit, “were given us by the sailors that rescued us. We have got some different clothes down at the dock, but they were soaked through and so some of the crew fixed us up as well as they could.”
“What boat did you come on?”
“I don’t know,” said Fred, “it was almost dark and we weren’t thinking about the name, we were so anxious to be taken on board. After we had been in the water as long as we were we didn’t stop for little things like that. Will you take the watch and let us have some breakfast?”
Extending his hand the man took the watch and then examined it with interest.
“That’s a good watch,” he said after a brief silence.
“Of course it is,” said Fred. “My father gave it to me.”
“You are sure that’s the way you got it?”
“I’m telling you the truth,” said Fred seriously. He was in no mood now to resent any implications as to the method by which the watch had come into his possession. The odor of breakfast was strong in the room and the appetites of both boys were so keen that other things were ignored.
“Yes, I’ll take your watch,” said the man. “You give me your name and address.”
As soon as these had been given the boys seated themselves at one of the tables and in a brief time were served with a simple breakfast. It was marvelous, however, the amount of food which was eaten by the hungry lads. It had been a long time since they had tasted anything of the kind and even the proprietor laughed as he saw the simple breakfast disappear.
At last, when the boys could eat no more and they were preparing to depart, the proprietor said, “Did you tell me that you were staying at Mackinac Island?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Fred.
“At one of the hotels?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then my advice to you is to telegraph there for money.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Fred quickly. “That’s the very thing we’ll do. Come on, Jack,” he added, turning to his companion. “We’ll go to the telegraph office right away. Will you tell us where it is, please?” he asked of the restaurant keeper.
Stepping outside his door the proprietor pointed to the office and after they had thanked him for his kindness John and Fred at once started for the place.
Their troubles, however, were not ended, for again they found their appearance decidedly against them. The telegraph operator refused to take any message that should be paid for at Mackinac. He also refused to listen to any of their explanations and in response to the appeals of the boys explained that he had to be governed by the rules of the office.
Even with all their protests and pleadings the boys were unable to induce the operator to change his decision. He still refused to accept the message and as the boys were without money it was impossible for them to prepay it.
Fred and John when they withdrew from the telegraph office were not so disconsolate as they had been when they had met their first rebuff. The ample breakfast they had secured had done much to bring back their courage and again they were Go Ahead Boys in earnest.
On the sidewalk the two boys stopped once more to think over their difficult condition.
“What shall we do now?” asked John.
“Anybody can ask questions,” laughed Fred. “If I could answer it I would be very glad to.”
“Have you anything to suggest?”
“Yes,” replied Fred quickly as a sudden inspiration came to him, “it can’t be very far from here to Mackinac Island. Suppose we go back to the dock and see if we can’t arrange for our passage.”
“They will meet us with great enthusiasm,” said John laughing slightly as he spoke. “Probably they’ll hail us as the very fellows they have been waiting for.”
“But we won’t look so much like tramps when we get our other clothes on.”
“Maybe not,” assented John, “but we’ll have to find that out later. Come on back and we’ll see what we can do now.”
When the boys returned to the dock their anger was almost as great as their surprise when they discovered that the boat in which they had come had resumed its voyage.
“And they said,” declared Fred bitterly, “that they were going to hang up here six hours. They have gone in less than three.”
“Well, they are paid for our passage anyway. They have got two suits of clothes and that’s something.”
“It is that,” said Fred smiling ruefully as he spoke. “Just now I think it’s a good deal. When I look at the things you have on, Jack, and then think of that beautiful suit sailing away over Lake Superior, I’m almost ready to weep!”
“Don’t! Don’t!” said John. “It doesn’t affect me that way. When I see you as you are now and then think of you as I have seen you all dolled up and even your shoes polished, to say nothing of that red necktie you wear so frequently, I don’t feel like weeping, I feel like yelling.”
“It doesn’t make any difference,” said Fred. “Our boat’s gone. Now what is the best thing for us to do?”
“To go ahead,” said John.
“Come on then,” said Fred briskly.
Together the two boys made inquiries at various places, but did not discover any boats leaving in the near future that would land them at the place they were seeking. After several inquiries they were directed to the office of the great steamboats, which made the long voyage from Buffalo to Duluth and return. The appearance of the boys, however, was so markedly against them that they were unsuccessful in arranging for their passage.
“It looks as if the Go Ahead Boys had gotten to the end of their journey,” said John when the boys once more were on the street.
“Don’t you believe that for a minute,” said Fred. “The only time it is necessary for a man to show that he has any grit is when he is in trouble. If there weren’t any hard things to be done there wouldn’t be any need of a fellow bracing up to do them. If everything was smooth and easy all the time everybody would get along. It’s just because the way is a little hard that there’s need for us to go ahead. We’ll find a way yet, Jack. Come on back to the dock.”
Neither boy was disheartened when after three or four more attempts to arrange for a passage they found even their strongest pleadings without avail.
“We’re simply up against it,” said John.
“And that’s the time to go ahead,” declared Fred. “Come on and we’ll try that fellow yonder.” As he spoke he pointed toward a motor-boat at the lower end of the dock on which the boys were standing. The boat was old and greatly in need of paint. A disconsolate appearing individual whom the boys suspected to be the owner, manager, chief stockholder and captain of the little craft sat on the dock swinging his long legs over the water.
The boys were able to see that the man had bright red hair and that his face was covered with huge freckles or splotches of a dark, reddish brown hue. He was apparently about thirty years of age, long, ungainly and awkward in his every action.
“Let’s go see him,” suggested Fred.
“He doesn’t look as if he knew enough to run a boat even to the bottom,” responded John, nevertheless joining his friend as they advanced toward the man.
“You didn’t expect the most intellectual individual in the world to be running a tub like that, did you?” demanded Fred, as they came nearer and obtained a closer view of the peculiar individual. “If he knew more he wouldn’t be around here in a worn-out old tub.”
“Go ahead,” laughed John, “I’ll leave the interview to you.”
“I’m glad to see that you have come to your senses at last,” declared Fred soberly. “It’s a good thing sometimes to know that you don’t know.”
“That’s right,” retorted John, “and it’s better yet not to know so many things that aren’t so.”
“You just listen,” said Fred, as he turned toward the stranger who had glanced at the approaching boys and then resumed his former position.
“Good morning,” called Fred cheerily.
“Hey?” answered the man.
“I said good morning,” repeated Fred striving to speak cheerfully.
“I hadn’t noticed. Is it?” said the man glancing toward the sky as he spoke. “Most of these mornings up here have been foggy. We have had the worst weather this summer I ever see. Seems to get worse all the time.”
“Don’t you know that Ruskin says there isn’t any bad weather? There are just different kinds of good weather.”
“Ruskin, who’s he? I never heard tell o’ him.”
“He doesn’t live here at the Sault,” acknowledged Fred. “Never mind the weather. What I want to know is can you take us in your motor-boat to Mackinac Island?”
“I guess I can,” said the man whose little reddish brown eyes narrowed as he gazed shrewdly at the boys as he spoke. “Depends on whether you got the price or not.”
“How much will you charge to take us?”
“Both of you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll charge ten dollars.”
“All right, we’ll pay it.”
“Will you pay it now?”
“No,” said Fred. “We’ll pay you just as soon as you land us at Mackinac.”
“How do I know you will?”
“You have our word for it.”
“You don’t look neither one of you as if that was too much of a load for you to carry alone.” The man’s voice was nasal and high, and he did not smile while he was speaking. The boys were unable to decide whether he was serious or was speaking lightly.
“If it’s clothes you want,” said Fred, “we’ll show you some better ones just as soon as we get up to the hotel.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the man. “I guess I’m a fool for my pains, but I got to go around by Cockburn Island. If you want to go aboard and go with me I’ll fetch you around to Mackinac for ten dollars. I know I’m taking a big chance, but maybe you be too. What do you say?”
“I say go ahead,” answered Fred quickly.
“Go ahead it is,” responded the skipper. “I can be ready in five minutes. Can you?”
“We’re ready now,” said John quickly.
“You know how it is,” said the captain. “Most always the passengers, if they want anything to eat on the way, put it on board before we start.”
“Well, we cannot get anything to eat,” said Fred. “We told you why.”
“So you did. So you did,” said the captain again speaking in his high nasal tones. “Still I guess we’ll be hungry before night. Maybe I can find something. You boys wait here until I go up the street and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” When he had thus spoken the ungainly man took a basket on his arm and at once set forth on his errand.
Left to themselves the boys went on board the strange craft and the hasty inspection they made did not increase their confidence either in the boat or in its owner.
“It’s about the only way there is,” said John at last, “and we’ve got to take it. It’s Hobson’s choice. We can’t stay here and we can’t get passage on the big boats so we’ll have to put up with what we can get.”
“Next week,” said Fred lightly, “we’ll all be laughing about it. I wouldn’t mind this adventure at all if I was sure Grant and George are all right. Every time I think of them I’m worried when I remember what you and I went through. If that boat hadn’t come along just as it did we might be at the bottom of Lake Huron.”
“Well, we are not there,” said John quickly. “The fact is we are here and we wish we weren’t. If the other fellows were along with us I would like to go out yonder and shoot those rapids,” he said pointing toward the swift rapids that were not far away. Even while he was speaking a skiff, guided by an Indian, came swiftly through the tossing waters and approached the shore not far from the place where the boys were seated.
“That’s right,” joined in Fred heartily. “I have a good mind to try it as it is.”
“I guess you’ll have to wait until you get your fortune changed so that you can pay a man a half-dollar for letting you shoot the rapids in his skiff.”
“You’re right, of course,” said Fred. “I never realized before what a convenience it is to have some change in your pocket. Never again will I go out for a day’s trip, no matter where it is, without having something in my purse.”
“You mean as long as your father or some one else puts it in your purse.”
“No, I don’t mean anything of the kind,” retorted Fred. “You don’t suppose I am always going to be dependent, do you?”
“I hadn’t thought very much about it,” laughed John. “If you want my opinion, it is that—”
Whatever John’s judgment might be it was not expressed at the time for at that moment the tall skipper was seen returning to the dock.
“Well, I got enough to stay our stomachs a little while,” said the captain as he swung the basket from his arm and deposited it under one of the seats in the motor-boat. “It isn’t the best kind and what such stylish young gentlemen as you be are used to.”
It was plain to both boys that the skipper had not taken their explanations seriously and that he still was doubtful as to their real purpose. However, he did not refer to his suspicions and in a brief time he had the motor-boat ready to set forth on its long voyage.
For a brief time after the boys departed from Sault Ste. Marie their interest in the sights along the nearby shores was so keen that their own plight in a measure was forgotten. Several times the little boat was tossed by the waves that were upturned by the passage of some large freight boat. Occasionally they were hailed by people on board, for in the summer-time many of these freight boats carried a few passengers, making a delightful trip through the great lakes.
“I guess,” said the skipper, at last turning to the boys, “that the best way for me to do will be to go down through St. Mary’s River and then strike into the North Channel. I’ll keep close to the shore of Drummond Island and then I’ll come around to Cockburn Island that way.”
“Your tub,—I mean your motor-boat,” said Fred correcting himself quickly, “doesn’t seem to be making very fast time.”
“It’s fast enough,” said the skipper quietly. “Time ain’t much use to me. Some folks say time is money. If I had as much money as I had time I wouldn’t be carrying two young sprints like you down through Mud Lake.”
“How long do you think you’ll be before we land at Mackinac Island?” inquired Fred.
“Not knowing, I can’t say,” replied the captain. “My general feeling is that if we make it by day after to-morrow we’ll be doing mighty well.”
“What do you mean?” demanded John blankly.
“I mean just what I say. I’m not going to drive my boat very hard and by the time we have gone down St. Mary’s River and into the North Channel and then around to Cockburn Island it will be some time before we can start for Mackinac.”
“But where will we stay nights?” inquired Fred.
“We’ll pick out a good place somewhere. I have got a canvas that stretches over the boat and will keep out the wind and we can crawl under that when it gets dark.”
“But you haven’t enough for us to eat.”
“Haven’t I?” said the skipper dryly. “That depends I guess a little on how much you want to eat. I have got some salt pork and potatoes and if you don’t like that diet all I can say is that you might have brought your own stuff.”
The boys were silent as the reference to their poverty caused them both to realize how impossible it was for them to obtain even the common necessities of life, if they had no money with which to make their purchases.
“Ever been over to Cockburn Island?” inquired the captain after a long silence.
“Yes,” said John. “It’s a funny island.”
“It isn’t so funny as the people on it.”
“That’s what I thought,” laughed Fred.
“Well, you weren’t thinking far wrong. I’ve been over to Cockburn Island every month ever since the ice went out of the lakes.”
“What do you go for?” asked John.
“If I don’t tell you then you won’t know, will you?” said the captain glancing shrewdly at the boys as he spoke.
“I don’t suppose we shall,” acknowledged John.
“I don’t mind tellin’ you that I don’t expect to go there many times more. I’m going to get even with that man.”
“What man?”
“Why, Mr. Halsey.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s the man that stays summers on Cockburn Island. Leastwise he stays there part of the time.”
“Is he the man that has the little house that looks like an old shanty about a quarter of a mile back from the shore? Does he have a Japanese servant and is there a little barn back of the shanty?”
“What do you know about that barn?” demanded the skipper turning abruptly about and staring at the boys.
“We don’t know anything about it. I’m just telling you about the place and asking you if Mr. Halsey is the name of the man who lives there.”
“I guess you’re all correct,” said the captain. “That’s his name and I guess that’s the place where he lives. He’s the man I was tellin’ you about.”
“The one who employs you?” inquired John.
“I don’t know whether he employs me or not. I work for him. He has got to live up to his promises better than he has though, or I’ll put him where he won’t do quite so much business as he has been doin’ this summer.”
“What is his business?”
“Don’t you wish you knew?” said the skipper. There was an expression in his eyes that indicated that the man was deficient. Indeed, Fred whispered to John, “I don’t believe the fellow is all there. I guess if you knocked on his head you’d find nobody home.”
“He certainly looks the part,” agreed John, “but I want to find out more about Mr. Halsey, as he calls him.”
“You didn’t tell us what business Mr. Halsey is engaged in,” added John as he turned once more to the skipper.
“Of course I didn’t. That’s the question a good many folks would like to have answered.”
“Does he have any business?”
“Business! Business!” exclaimed the skipper. He had previously explained that his name was Rufus Blodgett and that he was commonly called Rufe by his passengers and friends. “He doesn’t work more than twelve hours a day, let me tell you, and he gets better pay than anybody around these diggins.”
“And nobody knows what his business is?”
“I know,” said Rufe, slyly winking as he spoke.
“What is it?”
“That’s tellin’. Maybe somebody will know pretty soon. At least I have wrote some letters that will be likely to put somebody on his track that he won’t like very much.”
“Did you write those letters to Mr. Button?” demanded Fred.
“What do you know about any letters?” said Rufe, his voice becoming very low as he spoke and the glitter again appearing in his narrow little eyes.
“We saw them,” said Fred more boldly. “We mean the one that you signed ‘American Brother.’”
“Who showed it to you?” said Rufe. “Beats all, I never supposed two such youngsters as you knew anything about them letters.”
“What did you write them for?” asked John.
“Didn’t I tell you this Mr. Halsey is makin’ all kinds of money? He agreed to divide with me and he hasn’t done it. I told him I would get even with him and you see if I don’t!”
“Then he is a smuggler, is he?” inquired John.
“You had better take my advice and not say that word very often around in these parts. I guess there ain’t any harm in a man buying somethin’ on one side o’ the lake and sellin’ it on the other.”
“But there’s a law against it,” suggested Fred.
“Nothin’ but a man-made law.”
“What has that got to do with it?” asked John.
“I don’t care nothin’ about man-made laws. I don’t find nothin’ in the Bible that says I mustn’t smuggle, as you call it. Mind you, I ain’t sayin’ I’m no smuggler, I’m just talkin’ on general principles.”
“But you have not told us what Mr. Halsey smuggles.”
“No, and I ain’t goin’ t’ tell you.”
“Is that what you’re going to Cockburn Island now for?”
“Don’t you wish you knew?” said Rufe, laughing as if he considered his question to be a good joke. “Did you say,” he continued, “that you had ever been out in the barn?”
“We said we hadn’t been there,” replied Fred.
“There’s a mighty good reason why you didn’t go, I guess.”
“What’s that?”
“That there watch dog o’ the Halseys. There was a fellow here once what was tellin’ about some dog that a man named Pluto kept. He said that dog had three heads and they all barked at the same time and all bit together.”
“Did he tell you where Mr. Pluto lived?” asked Fred soberly.
“No, he didn’t,” said Rufe. “Where does he live?”
“Not very far from Cockburn Island, you’ll find if you don’t quit breaking the laws.”
There were many conversations during the voyage similar to those which have been recorded, and the boys became more convinced that the strange skipper undoubtedly in some way was sharing in the experiences of the man whom they had met on Cockburn Island and whose name Rufe declared to be Halsey.
The little motor-boat stopped for a time on the shore of Mud Lake.
There the skipper cooked some of the potatoes and salt pork he had brought with him and the boys declared that never had they tasted food more delicious.
Neither George nor Grant was aware of the reason for their abrupt flight when the shout of the approaching man was heard.
“Hold on!” called George to Grant after the boys had gone a hundred yards or more. “What fools we are. What are we running for anyway?”
“Because we want to get somewhere. We don’t know just where it is but we’re in a hurry to get there, I guess.”
As he spoke Grant glanced toward the woods in the distance from which the man that had hailed them had unexpectedly come. “I’m not afraid. Come on, let’s go back to the motor-boat.”
“Did you find them?” inquired the captain when the boys approached the boat.
“No.”
“You look so tuckered out, both of you, that I thought maybe you saw them somewhere.”
“No, we didn’t find them,” said Grant, “but we saw—”
The boy stopped as if he hesitated to refer to the fact that they had fled from a man who had unexpectedly hailed them.
“Saw what?” said the captain.
“Do you know who lives on Cockburn Island?” abruptly asked George.
For a moment the captain made no reply as he looked keenly at the boys. At last he said, “I have sailed over to Cockburn Island a good many times. Why do you want to know who lives there?”
“We had some strange experiences on that island,” explained Grant.
“I don’t doubt you,” said the captain. “I don’t doubt your word a bit. What did you see there?”
“Why, it wasn’t so much what we saw as the fact that there seemed to be something very mysterious about the island and the people who live there. We went into a little shanty one day. At least it looked like a little shanty, not very far back from the shore and we found it all fitted up like a city house. There were rugs on the floors, and chairs and tables just such as you might see in town. The man had a Japanese servant, but there was something so strange about the whole thing that we didn’t know just what to make of it. Do you know the man who lives there?”
“I have seen him,” said the captain simply.
“Is there anything queer about him?”