"Well, here we are!"
It was Captain Alvin Landon who uttered the exclamation as the three came to a halt on the shore at the point nearest the moorings of the gasoline launchDeerfoot, left there the night before.
She made a pretty picture, with her graceful lines, shining varnish, polished brass work and cleanliness everywhere. The steersman in the cockpit was guarded by a wind-shield of thick glass. At the stern floated a flag displaying an anchor surrounded by a circle of stars with the stripes as shown in our national emblem. At the bow flew a burgee or small swallow-tailed flag of blue upon which was the wordDeerfootin gold. The bunting was always taken in when the boat lay up for the night, but in daytime and in clear weather it was displayed on the launch.
Not only could one sleep with some comfort on such a craft by using the convertible seats, but food could be prepared on an oil stove. In cruising, however, among the numerous islands and bays, it was so easy to go ashore for an excellent meal that Captain Landon followed the rule.
The water was so deep close to land that the three easily sprang aboard, the Captain being last in order to cast off the line that held the boat in place. It was the first time that Mike Murphy had ever placed foot on a craft of that nature. While Chester hustled about, Alvin quickly joining him, he gaped around in silent amazement. He felt that in his ignorance of everything the best course for him was to do nothing without the advice of his young friends. He sank down gingerly on one of the seats and watched them.
He saw the Captain thrust the switch plug into place, though with no idea of what he meant by doing so, while Chester took a peep into the gasoline tank in the stern. Then Alvin opened the hinged deck which covered the big six cylinder motor, climbed forward to the fly-wheel, and swung it back and forth until it circled over. Instantly there followed a smooth whirr, and he closed the forward deck over the motor and took his seat behind the wind-shield where he grasped the wheel which, as on an automobile, controlled the steering gear. The control lever, as has been stated, was on his left. Alvin pushed this forward until the clutch took hold, and with a churning of the screw at the stern the boat moved ahead and quickly attained a good degree of speed. The wind was so slight that the surface of the water was scarcely rippled, and no motion could be felt except the vibration of the powerful engine.
The bow and stern lines having been neatly coiled down and everything being adjusted, with Captain Alvin seated and loosely grasping the steering wheel, the two mates took their places behind him, prepared to enjoy the outing to the full. Youth, high health, with every surrounding circumstance favorable—what can bring more happiness to a human being? They come to us only once and let us make the most of them.
"Is it permitted to spake to the man at the wheel?" called Mike to the Captain, who, looking over his shoulder, nodded his head.
"So long as you speak good sense."
"Which the same is what I does always; why couldn't ye take a run over to Ireland this morning, now that ye are headed that way?"
"It's worth thinking about, but we shall have to wait till another time. Better become acquainted with a part of the Maine coast first."
The launch was speeding to the northeast in the direction of Squirrel Island, which has long been one of the most popular of summer resorts. This beautiful spot is not quite a mile long and has a varied scenery that surprises every one who visits the place. The deep water around the wharf is as clear as crystal, so that at high tide one can look down and see clearly the rocky bottom twenty feet below. The coast abounds with prodigious rocks tumbled together by some stupendous convulsion of nature and against which the waves dash with amazing power during a storm, and throw the spray high in air and far inland. There are shady woods of balsam and fir where one may stroll in the cool twilight over the velvet carpet, meandering along the bewitching "Lover's Walk," with which nearly every section is provided, or threading his way through the dense bushes which brush him lovingly as he follows the faintly marked paths. Overhead, when the crow sentinels catch sight of him, they caw their warnings to their comrades. There are shadowy glens, gaping fissures, whose corresponding faces show that at some remote age they were split apart by a terrific upheaval, a gray barn with its threshing machine and air of quiet country life, rows of neat cottages, a little white wooden church, perched like a rooster gathering himself and about to crow and flap his wings, the Casino, smooth, grassy slopes, and at the northern end of the island, the roomy Squirrel Inn, crowded with visitors attracted by the cool and bracing air, from the opening to the close of summer.
Our young friends had no intention of calling there, but, circling to the westward of the island, headed for Boothbay Harbor nestling three miles to the northward. A number of girls loitering on the broad porch of the hotel and a group playing tennis waved their handkerchiefs; the young Captain answered with a tooting of his whistle, and Mike Murphy rising to his feet swung his cap over his head.
To the right stretched Linekin Bay, to the head of Linekin Neck, beyond which courses the Damariscotta River, bristling with islets, picturesque and beautiful beyond compare. Captain Landon turned slightly to the left, still heading with unabated speed for Boothbay Harbor. He saw coming toward him a little steamer from whose bow the water spread in a foaming wake. It was the craft which makes regular trips between Boothbay Harbor and Squirrel Island through the summer season, stopping at other places when passengers wish it. One of these is Spruce Point, where little parties often go ashore over the rickety dock, and, striking into the shady woods, follow the winding path along the rocky coast known as the "Indian Trail," for more than two miles, when, after passing Mount Pisgah and crossing a long bridge, they find themselves in the town of which I have spoken.
As the two boats rapidly approached, passing within a short distance of each other, the head and shoulders of the captain of theNellie G.showed in the pilot-house. He was a tall, handsome man with dark whiskers, who, when saluted by theDeerfoot, reached up and pulled the whistle cord of his own craft. Every one knows Captain Williams of Bowdoinham and is glad to see him turn an honest penny each summer. His boat, one of the prettiest in those waters, had been built wholly by himself, and the name painted in big letters on the front of the wheelhouse is that of his wife.
To the left and almost touching Southport is Capitol Island, a little nearer, Burnt, and then Mouse, all as picturesque as they can be. The pathway arched with trees completely shades the sloping walk that leads to the hotel on Mouse Island. A government light on Burnt Island throws out its warning rays at momentary intervals through the night. When fog settles down, the light gives place to a tolling bell.
Entering the broad harbor, our friends saw a score or more of vessels grouped around at anchor, or moored at the wharves. There was a magnificent yacht, the property of a multimillionaire of national reputation; another luxurious craft, the representative of a Boston club, a five-masted schooner, veteran ships, two of which had voyaged from the other side of the world, a decayed and rotting hull near the long bridge, where it tipped a little to one side in the mud, and was wholly under water when the tide was in, as it had been for years. An excursion steamer from Bath was just arriving, while others were taking on passengers for some of the towns not far off.
Alvin, having slowed down by lessening the amount of gas admitted to the cylinders with the throttle lever on the wheel, rounded to at one of the floats, where a man who had noted his approach caught the loop of rope tossed to him and slipped it over the mooring pile set in place for that purpose. The steersman pulled the control lever back to the vertical position, releasing the propeller shaft from connection with the motor. A further pull backward threw in the reverse gear, and the launch came to rest beside the float and the lever was returned to the vertical position.
"I'll look after it while you are gone," he said and Alvin nodded. Captain and crew then attended to stopping the motor by turning the switch to the "off" position, putting out fenders to avoid scratching, making bow and stern lines fast to deck cleats and putting everything in shipshape order.
The three then climbed the steps to the upper level, passed the storehouses and ascended the moderate hill to the principal street of the well-known town of Boothbay Harbor. There was little that was noteworthy in the rather long avenue, lined with the usual stores, a bank and amusement hall and a number of pretty residences, and I should make no reference to it except for an incident that befell the visitors.
Having gone to the end of the street, that is, until the eastern terminal gave way to the open country, they turned about to retrace their steps to the boat, for it was much more pleasant to be skimming over the water. The temperature at Boothbay Harbor is generally five or ten degrees higher than at Squirrel Island.
The three sauntered along, pausing now and then to look into the store windows, admiring the displays of Indian trinkets offered for sale, and approached the corner where they were to turn down the hill to the wharf. At that moment they saw a man of dark complexion, with a big mustache, and accompanied by a large lad, both in yachting costume, come out of Hodgdon's store, which is devoted to the sale of hats, caps, boots, shoes, clothing and other necessities. The two took the opposite course, following the main street in the direction of the ball grounds.
Neither Alvin nor Chester did more than glance at the couple, for there was nothing unusual in their appearance, but Mike started.
"Did ye obsarve thim?" he asked, lowering his voice.
"Yes; but there are plenty others on the street that are as interesting."
"Come wid me," whispered Mike, "say nothing."
He whisked into the store, his wondering companions at his heels. They left the situation to him.
"Will ye oblige me by saying whither the two that has just passed out bought anything of ye?" asked Mike of the rotund, smiling clerk, who, hesitating a moment, answered:
"The younger one bought a yachting cap, or rather traded one for his old straw hat, for which I allowed him a nickel, which is all it's worth and more too, I'm beginning to think."
He held up the dilapidated headgear which he caught up from under the counter.
"Do ye recognize the same?" asked Mike, in a whisper of Alvin.
"Can it be possible!" exclaimed the young Captain.
"It's the identycal hat I wore last night whin we had our ilegant shindy!"
Mike Murphy, even in the flurry of the moment, could not forget his innate courtesy. He handed back the old hat to the puzzled clerk and bowed.
"I thank ye very much for yer kindness, and now, lads, come wid me."
He hurried out of the door, the two following closely.
"What do you mean to do?" asked Alvin.
"Folly the chap and finish the shindy I started wid him," replied the Irish lad, staring in the direction taken by the couple. "Ye can luk on and kaap back the man, so that I'll git fair play wid the ither."
"You are not on the Southport road, Mike," warned Alvin, "and you will be arrested before you can land a blow and probably locked up."
"It'll be worth it," replied the other, scenting the battle like a war horse. "Bad luck to it! where is the spalpeen?"
The three were looking keenly up the street, but, brief as was the interval, the couple had vanished.
There are a number of lesser streets which lead inland at right angles to the main avenue of Boothbay Harbor, and almost as many that are mere alleys on the other side, through which one may pass to the different wharves. It will be seen, therefore, that there was nothing strange in the disappearance of the strangers in whom our friends were so much interested.
"They can't have gone fur," exclaimed the impatient Mike, hesitating for the moment as to what was best to do, and feeling the value of every passing minute and fearing lest the opportunity be lost.
"They must have come in a boat," suggested Chester, "and have turned down one of the by-streets to the water. But what is the purpose of chasing them?"
"So we may catch 'em," was the reply of Mike, who feeling there was a possibility that they might have turned the other way, addressed Chester:
"Cross to the ither side of the main street and hurry by the corners, looking up aich as ye do so; if they've turned that way, they're still in sight."
There was sense in the plan. Chester ran across the avenue and walked rapidly, glancing up each opening as he came to it. He meant merely to keep the couple in sight until he could learn something more of them. At the same time he was wise enough to avoid drawing attention to himself. He passed well beyond the hotel without catching sight of the man and boy and finally stopped, convinced that it was useless to go farther.
Alvin Landon was of the same mind with him. As matters stood, nothing was to be gained by accusing the youth of assault and attempted robbery, for no proof could be brought forward. Moreover, his companion at that time was absent, the man now with him having been seen for the first time by Alvin and Mike a few minutes before.
"It will be well to learn something of the two," the Captain thought to himself, "but it will be a mistake to make them suspect us, as they are sure to do if they find we are dogging them. As for Mike pitching in and starting another fight, it will be the height of folly. I won't allow it."
The two were walking side by side and going so fast that several persons looked curiously at them.
"Take it easy," advised Alvin.
"The same is what I'll do whin I comes up wid the spalpeen, that stole me hat where I'd flung it in the road."
"Keep cool and if you get sight of them, don't go nearer, but watch——"
"There they be now!" exclaimed Mike at the first glance down one of the alleys on their left, and, before Alvin could check him, he dashed off at his best speed. His progress might have been satisfactory, but when half way down the hill some one pushed the front of a wheelbarrow through a door and across the way. Its appearance was so unexpected and close that Mike could not check himself nor had he time in which to gather for the leap that would clear it. He struck the obstacle fairly and went over, landing on his hands and knees, while the barrow in turn toppled upon him. The urchin who had caused the mischief turned and fled in a panic, before the indignant Mike could chastise him.
Alvin rested his hand against the nearest building and laughed until he could hardly save himself from falling. Resuming his uncertain walk he called:
"Are you hurt, Mike?"
"Oh, no," replied the lad, rubbing his shins and screwing up his face with the smart of the bumps he had received; "as me second cousin said whin he fell from the steeple, I've only broke both legs, one arm and bent me head out of shape—nothin' worth the mintion. I come nigh forgettin' my arrant."
And unmindful of the hurts, which were trifling, he dashed down the slope, arriving a minute later at the wharf, where a dozen men and several boys were loading or unloading craft, or boarding or coming ashore from some boat. Although Mike would not admit it, he had fixed his suspicion upon a man who when he turned his face proved to be fully fifty years old, while his companion was a lusty colored youth. He glanced here and there and at all the craft in sight. Possibly his eyes rested upon the right one, but he saw neither of the persons whom he sought, and faced about as Alvin joined him.
"They have give us the slip—bad cess to 'em, for I make nothing of the spalpeens among them in sight."
The two scanned all the craft that suggested ownership by the strangers, but it was in vain. Then they made their way along the wharves to where they had left theDeerfoot. Chester was awaiting them and shook his head as they approached. Alvin paid the man who had looked after the boat in his absence, and after casting off and starting the motor, the three headed for Christmas Cove, where the Captain said they would have dinner, though they would arrive before the regular hour for that meal. Progress was so easy that conversation kept up with the Captain while he held the steering wheel.
"I suspect from what we saw awhile ago that the fellows whom Mike and I met last night belong to a gang. One of them is a man and there may be others."
"It is lucky the younger did not recognize either of you," said Chester. "Do you think he would do so if you met face to face?"
"There is no reason why he should not, for Mike identified him with only a passing glance. You must remember that the sky was clear and the moon bright."
"It's mesilf that belaves we imprissed ourselves upon their memory," said Mike so gravely that the others knew he meant the words as a jest. Alvin was silent for a moment and then turned his head, for the wheel required little attention.
"Mike, you acknowledge me as Captain and that my mate must obey orders?"
The remark was a question. The youth rose promptly to his feet and touched his forefinger to the front of his cap.
"I await yer orders, Captain."
"If we meet that fellow whose name we believe to be 'Noxon' you must not show that you have any suspicion of his identity, nor must you make any move against him without first consulting me."
Mike looked at the second mate.
"Isn't that enough to timpt one to mootiny? I obsarve that Mr. Noxon's right eye was of a bootiful black and blue color and the ither should be painted to match the same. It was him that was the thaif who stole me hat."
"Didn't you takehiscap?"
"It was a fair prize of war—there's a moighty difference, as the lawyer said whin he larned it was the ither man's ox that was gored. But as I flung my tile away and he come back to git his own, I sha'n't lay it up agin him."
As theDeerfootsped northeast again, the sharp cutwater splitting the wavelets to the tune of the big motor's humming, and following the main line of the Maine coast, the boys saw the small, low-lying Ram Island and its light on their right, with Linekin Neck on the left, and Inner Heron Island showing in front. Gliding between this and the ledges known as the Thread of Life, they speedily rounded to at the wharf at Christmas Cove. As elsewhere, there were yachts, sailboats and various kinds of craft at anchor or secured to the floats. To one of the latter the three friends made the launch fast and passed over the pier and by the hall where entertainments and religious services are held. The water so far north as Maine is as a rule too cold for popular bathing. At Christmas Cove this difficulty is overcome by a goodly sized pool into which the salt water is admitted at high tide, when the gates are closed and it is held until the time comes for changing it.
The opportunity was too good to be lost, and the youngsters each rented a suit and a bath house, from which they emerged and plunged delightedly into the pool. It will be remembered that Mike Murphy could not swim a stroke, but the pond is prepared for such persons, and all he had to do was to keep away from the corner near the gates, which is the only place where the water is beyond one's depth. Alvin and Chester were fine swimmers and dived and frolicked until they were sated. They tried to teach the rudiments of swimming to their comrade, but he made no progress and they had to give over the attempt for the time.
It was but a short climb to the Hollywood Inn, where the genial Landlord Thorpe gave them welcome and they wrote their names in the ledger. Then they walked out on the rear porch to admire the romantic scenery, while awaiting the dinner hour. On one side was the placid Cove, making up from the Damariscotta River and dotted with pleasure craft; on the other, John's Bay and the broad Atlantic. Pointing toward the historical Pemaquid Point, on the opposite side of the Bay, Alvin said to his companions:
"All looks calm and peaceful now, but how different it was on that September day in 1813!"
They turned inquiringly toward him.
"Right off yonder the American brigEnterpriseof fourteen guns, commanded by Captain Burrows, fought the BritishBoxer, also of fourteen guns. It was a desperate battle in which both captains were killed and the British vessel captured. The prize was taken into Portland harbor, and the two commanders lie buried side by side in the city."
Lying a short distance off the Maine coast is an island which belongs to nobody and is therefore referred to as No Man's Land. If you look for it on the map you will find it marked as Muscongus. It is also known as Loud's Island, in honor of the first settler. The strange state of affairs came about in this way:
The Lincolnshire or Muscongus Patent, granted in 1630 by the Council of Plymouth to Beauchamp and Leverett, included the land from the seaboard, between the Muscongus and Penobscot rivers, for a certain distance inland, but made no mention of the island on the south. The grant passed to General Samuel Waldo, and was the origin of most of the land titles in that section of Maine.
One of the most honored names in colonial England is that of Samoset, the Wampanoag Indian, who met the first Plymouth settlers with the English greeting, "Welcome, Englishmen!" He had picked up a few words from the fishermen who made their headquarters at Monhegan, an island ten miles farther out to sea. Samoset was accustomed to spend his summers on Muscongus. If you dig in the sand on the island you will be pretty sure to find relics of the aboriginal occupation of the place.
Captain Loud commanded a privateer in the service of George III, and one day lost his temper in a dispute over some prize money. The quarrel waxed so hot that he declared in his rage he would never lift his hand again in the service of the king, even to save the monarch's head. Suchlese majestéwas sure to bring serious consequences to the peppery old salt, so he hurriedly sailed for Boston on his brig. While coasting the province of Maine, he came upon Muscongus, and was so charmed that he spent the remainder of his life there. In some way that no one can explain, the United States surveyors overlooked this island, three miles in length and a mile broad, and the mistake has never been corrected. Muscongus therefore remains no man's land.
It is well wooded and watered and has a picturesque shore, with rocky coves, white sandy beaches, and an attractive appearance from every direction. No steamer ever stops there, and it is rather ticklish business to pick your way over the crags to the dilapidated landing and so on to the firm land beyond.
The unique condition of Muscongus causes some queer things. For a long time, the people, who now number a hundred and twenty-five, paid taxes to the township of Bristol on the mainland two miles away. Every year the tax collector sailed or rowed over to Muscongus and marked in chalk on each door the amount of taxes due from that family. He gave his receipt for payment of the same by rubbing out the chalked figures.
This was a pleasing but one-sided arrangement. Bristol gained the sole advantage and by and by the Muscongus folks awoke to the fact. Then they refused to pay any taxes unless the collector showed legal authority for his assessment. The chalk marks were rubbed off the doors and after some spirited scenes the collector withdrew, since, as has been shown, he had no legal means of enforcing his demands. Since then Muscongus has been the only community in New England which is not taxed, except so far as it chooses to impose the burden upon itself.
Among the islanders every man was a Democrat with a single exception. At the Congressional election on the mainland the Republican candidate was unpopular, but the vote of Muscongus was cast for and elected him. The canvassers, however, threw out the vote because of the refusal to pay taxes. This was just before the Civil War, and in the words of the chronicler of Muscongus: "That was the end of all things here in connection with the mainland."
You need not be reminded that as the great war went on the government was forced to resort to drafting to obtain the soldiers it needed. Muscongus was included in the Bristol district, but the inhabitants warned the authorities that any attempt to enforce the draft would cause bloodshed. Some of them, however, were alarmed at the thought of fighting the national government. At a mass meeting the community voted to donate nine hundred dollars toward the expense of the war, and a number paid three hundred dollars apiece for substitutes, though none volunteered. These contributions meant many sacrifices to the poor fisher folk.
A man living on Muscongus had once served in the regular army, and a certain major at Bristol determined to secure him for Uncle Sam. The officer was taken over to the island in a small sailboat, and made his way to the home of the veteran he wanted. He was absent, but his wife was in the kitchen peeling potatoes. A few minutes later the major's companions awaiting him at the shore saw him dash through the door and run at his highest speed for the boat. A few paces behind him, holding the pan of potatoes against her side with one hand, and snatching them out with the other, she bombarded the terrified fugitive. She could throw, too, with the force and accuracy of a short stop of the professional league, and every missile landed. She kept up the bombardment all the way to the waterside, by which time her ammunition was used up. When the battered major stepped ashore at Bristol he exclaimed:
"Thunderation! if I had a regiment of women like her I'd capture Richmond in three days!"
The foregoing facts Captain Alvin Landon related to Chester Haynes and Mike Murphy one sunshiny forenoon as theDeerfootswept past the numerous islands between Cape Newagen and Pemaquid Point, and rounded to at the rickety landing on the southern side of Muscongus. The boys stepped out upon the rocks, leaping and climbing to the wabbling support over which they picked their way to the solid earth. A few rods distant a goodly sized sailboat was moored, the passengers having already gone up the sloping bank and inland. Hardly a fair summer day goes by without bringing visitors to one of the most interesting spots on the coast of Maine.
Since the excursion was likely to take most of the afternoon, our young friends brought their lunch with them. At the crest of the slope, they sat down on the grass under a group of trees, and with keen appetites ate the last morsel of their meal. Then followed a stroll, with ears and eyes open. They found the islanders courteous, hospitable and ready to answer all questions. One of the first interesting facts learned by the youthful callers was that nearly all the people were blue-eyed, and the men straight, tall, rugged and with a physique superior to that of their neighbors on the mainland. Several descendants of the Loud and other pioneers were met, one or two of whom were approaching the century mark. Contentment was everywhere, and all were proud of their independent lives with not the slightest wish to change it. Some of the men seek their wives outside of the little model republic, and more than one husband has been drawn to the island by the attraction of a pair of violet eyes and the sweet disposition of a coy maiden. It has been charged that there is a mental and physical deterioration because of intermarriages between relatives, but nothing of the kind seems to have occurred.
Muscongus knows little, except by hearsay, of crime and pauperism. All the doors are left unlocked at night, and a drunken person is never seen. Should any fall in need of charity it is given cheerfully. Years ago there was an aged couple whose five sons were lost at sea, and who were unable to provide for themselves. They were supported in comfort in their own home as long as they lived.
Of course there has to be some form of government. It is of the simplest nature. All general meetings are held in the little schoolhouse, the only public building on the island. The presiding officer is chosen by acclamation, and is always the school agent and superintendent of business of the community. An open discussion follows of the measures needed for the public welfare, and whatever rules are adopted are obeyed without protest.
In former years the porgy industry was the chief support. But that declined and was succeeded by lobster and mackerel fishing, which does not pay so well. Every family owns a little farm, the soil is good, and all live in modest comfort. The neat, tidy houses nestling among the firs are surrounded by fruit trees trim and productive. The small library in the schoolhouse is free to all.
As to religious services, a prayer meeting is held every Sunday evening in the schoolhouse and Sunday School in the afternoon, but there is no resident minister. Occasionally the clergyman at Friendship, near Bristol, comes over to preach, and the faithful coast missionary who works among remote islanders and lighthouse keepers brings reading matter and ministers to the spiritual wants of the people. Among the islanders are Free Masons, Odd Fellows, Knights of Pythias and Red Men, who conduct the funeral services.
"It calls to mind the ould counthry," said Mike Murphy, when theDeerfoothad started homeward.
"How?" asked Chester at his side.
"It's so different; think if ye can of any part of Ireland living for a waak, lit alone months and years, widout a shindy."
"There are few sections in our own country of which that can be said."
"It taxes me mind to thry to draw the painful picter; let us think of something else."
Since the weather was favorable, Captain Landon made a circuit farther south, leaving the small White Islands on his left, the Hypocrites on his right, and so on into the broad bay, whose western boundary is Southport.
"I say, Captain," suddenly called Mike.
"What is it?" asked Landon, looking partly round.
"If ye have no objiction I should like to take a thrick at the wheel."
"All right; come over here."
In a twinkling the two had changed places. As Mike assumed his duty, he added:
"I've been obsarving ye so close that I belave I can run the battleship as well as yersilf. I have noted that whin ye wish to turn to the right, ye move the wheel around that way, sarving it according whin ye wish to head t'other way. 'Spose now ye find it nicessary to go backward?"
"Pull over the reversing lever; the wheel has nothing to do with that."
"I'll remimber the same. Hullo!" added Mike in some excitement. "I obsarve a ship ahead; do ye think it's a pirate?"
His companions laughed and Alvin answered:
"That is the steamerEnterprise, which runs from Portland to East Boothbay and back on alternate days, calling at different points."
"I mustn't run her down," said Mike, swinging over the wheel so as to pass her bow; "she's right in our path."
"Don't change your course; she has plenty of time to get out of your way."
"Begorrah! do ye maan to sayshe is moving?"
His companions scrutinized the lumbering craft for a minute as if in doubt. It was Chester who said:
"I think she is."
"Better make sure," remarked Mike heading the launch to the south, thus contributing his part to a joke which has been fashionable for years in that section of the Union over the sluggishness of the freight and passenger steamer named.
It was borne in upon Gideon Landon when he rounded the half century mark that he must let up in his intense application to his vast moneyed interests or break down. He hated to think of stopping, even for a brief season, but nature gave her unerring warning and the specialist whom he consulted spoke tersely and to the point:
"Take a vacation every year or die."
The capitalist recalled the habit of Bismarck, the great German Chancellor, who when worn out by the crushing cares of office hied away to his cabin in the pine woods, and gave orders to the sentinels at the gate to shoot all visitors unless they came directly from the King. So Landon built him a palatial bungalow, as he called it, near the southern end of Southport Island. The logs, all with their bark on, were a foot in diameter. From the outside, the structure looked rough and rugged, and little more than a good imitation of the dwellings of the New England pioneers; but you had only to peep through the windows to note its splendid furnishings. The finest of oriental rugs covered the floor; chairs, tables and lounges were of the richest make, and the hundreds of choice books in their mahogany cases cost twice as many dollars. A modern machine furnished the acetylene light, the broad fireplace could take in a half cord of wood when the weather was too cool for comfort without it, and the beds on the upper floors were as soft and inviting as those in the banker's city residence. In short, everything that wealth could provide and for which there was a wish was at the service of the inmates. He offered to send a Chickering piano, but his wife did not think it worth while, as she had no daughter and neither she nor her husband played. Alvin had been taking lessons, for several years, but he objected to keeping up practice during vacation and his parents decided that his views were well founded.
"Here I shall loaf and rest for six weeks!" exclaimed the owner, when the chauffeur carried him, his wife and two servants from the town of Southport to the new home.
Alvin had gone thither the week before, and was looked after by Pat Murphy, the caretaker, and his wife, who had been long in the service of the banker.
One cause of Landon taking this step was the example of his old friend Franklin Haynes, who had only one child—Chester, with whom you have become acquainted. His enthusiastic accounts of the tonic effect of the air, confirmed by his own renewed vigor and tanned skin, decided the elder in his course. The Haynes bungalow was smaller and more modest than Landon's, the two being separated by a half mile of woods and open country. This, however, was of no account, for the Landon auto skimmed over the interval in a few minutes and the interchange of visits went on day and night. The two families played bridge, dined, automobiled and cruised with each other, while the boys were inseparable.
This went on for a fortnight, when a break came. Landon and Haynes were interested in a large financial deal, in which the latter believed he was wronged. There was a sharp quarrel and the friendly relations between the two, including their wives, snapped apart. All bridge playing ceased, and the long summer hours became so deadly dull for Mrs. Landon that she gladly accepted the invitation of a friend, hurried to New York and sailed with her for England and the continent. Haynes spent his time mainly in fishing and reading, but kept away from the home of his rich neighbor, who was equally careful not to approach the other's residence.
Both men, however, were too sensible to let their quarrel affect their sons. Not the slightest shadow could come between those chums, who visited back and forth, just as they had always done, stopping over night wherever convenient, and as happy as two clean-minded, healthy youngsters ought to be. The Landon auto was at the disposal of the lads whenever they cared for it, but the youths had become interested in motor boating and gave little attention to the land vehicle.
The unpleasant break to which I have referred occurred about a fortnight before my introduction of the two lads to you. Landon never had any liking for athletics or sport. Every favorable morning his chauffeur took him to the little cluster of houses called Southport, at the head of the island, where he got his letters, New York newspapers and such supplies as happened to be needed at the house. This used up most of the first half of the day. After lunch he read, slept and loafed, never using the auto and caring nothing for the motor launch which was continually cruising over the water.
This went well enough for ten days or so, by which time the banker grew restless. Sleeping so much robbed him of rest at night. Classic works lost their charm and the "best sellers" bored him. He yawned, strolled about his place, and pitied every man who was doomed to spend his life in the Pine Tree State. True, he was gaining weight and his appetite became keen, but he smoked too much and was discontented. The lure of Wall Street was drawing him more powerfully every day. He longed to plunge into the excitement with his old time zest, and to enjoy the thrill that came when success ended a financial battle.
He was lolling in his hammock at the front of the bungalow one afternoon, trying to read and to smoke one of his heavy black cigars, and succeeding in neither task, when Davis Dunning, his chauffeur, glummer than usual because there was no excuse for his taking any more joy rides, halted the machine at the side of the roadway. Throwing out the clutch, he hurried up the walk and handed his employer a telegram that had been 'phoned over from Boothbay Harbor to Southport, where the chauffeur found it awaiting him when he made his daily run thither, this time unaccompanied by his employer.
No message could have been more welcome. It told the banker that the recent stir in steel and other stocks made it necessary for him to return to New York as soon as possible and to stay "a few days." He was alert on the instant. If he could reach Portland that evening he would board the express and be in New York the next morning.
"It must be done!" he exclaimed, aware that there was no necessity for such haste. Consultation with Dunning, however, convinced him that the course for an automobile was too roundabout and there was too much ferrying to make the hurried journey feasible. He decided to go to Bath by steamer, and then by rail on the morrow, easily reaching Portland in time for the ride by night to the metropolis.
This gave him opportunity to explain matters to Alvin, who was told to remain at Southport until the time came for him to re-enter school. The son was sorry to lose the company of his father, whose affection he returned, but it is not in boy nature to mourn for one from whom he did not expect to be parted long. The only thing in creation in which he felt pleasure and interest just then was in sailing his motor boat.
At the time of leaving Southport, Mr. Landon expected to return in the course of a week and said so to his son, but the call of business was stronger than that of the fine woods and salt water of Maine. He easily found the necessity for staying in New York until the time remaining for his vacation was so brief that he wrote Alvin it was not worth while to rejoin him.
So it came about that his son remained in the big bungalow, looked after by two servants, not to mention Pat Murphy the caretaker and his wife. Chester Haynes stayed with his parents in their modest home a mile to the southward, while the irrepressible Mike was at both homes more than his own. He had become as fond of boating as his two friends and set out to learn all about the craft. It did not take him long to become a good steersman and by and by he could start and stop theDeerfoot, though he shrank from attempting to bring her beside a wharf or float. In threading through the shipping at the different harbors, either Alvin or Chester took the wheel, one boy being almost equal in expertness to the other, both in handling the launch and taking care of the machinery.
There seemed no end to the romantic excursions that tempted the young navigators forth. Sometimes they fished, but preferred to glide through the smooth inland waters, where every scene was new and seemingly more romantic than the others. They landed at Pemaquid Beach and listened to the story of the old fort as told by the local historian, who proved that the date was correct which is painted on the stone wall and says a settlement was made there before the one at Jamestown. They passed up the short wide inlet known as John's River, and turning round cut across to the Damariscotta, which they ascended to Newcastle, with picturesque scenery all the way.
The boys were somewhat late in starting one morning and the sky was threatening, but with the folding top as a protection if needed, and the opportunity to halt when and wherever they choose, the agreement was unanimous that they should go up the Sheepscot to Wiscasset, eat dinner there and return at their leisure.
"It is well worth the trip," said Alvin, whose eyes sparkled with the memory of the passage which he had made more than once. Chester was equally enthusiastic.
"I'm riddy to sarve as a sacrifice," replied Mike, "as me friend Terry McGarrity remarked whin he entered the strife that was to prove which could ate the most mince pie inside of half an hour."
Swinging into the broad expanse of Sheepscot Bay, theDeerfootmoved smoothly up the river which bears the same name. Captain Landon held her to the moderate speed of fifteen miles or so an hour. There was no call for haste and he was wise not to strain the engine unnecessarily. To increase the rate would be imitating the man who drives his automobile at the highest clip, when he has to concentrate his attention upon the machine, with no appreciation of the beauties of the country through which he is plunging, and continually threatened by fatal accidents.
Alvin held the wheel, while Chester and Mike, seated behind him, kept intelligent trace of their progress by means of the fine map of the United States Geological Survey. The first point identified was Lower Mark Island on the right and close to Southport, then came Cat Ledges, Jold, Cedarbrush, the Hendrick Light, on the same side, while across loomed the pretty station known as Five Islands, one of the regular stopping places of the steamers going north or south. Omitting the smaller places, the next point which interested our friends was the Isle of Springs, one of the best known summer resorts in Sheepscot River. The landing was crowded with passengers, waiting for the steamerGardinerfrom Augusta, the capital of the State, and on its way to rush through the strait north of Southport to its destination, Ocean Point beyond Squirrel Island.
The peculiarity about this plucky little steamer is that no craft that ever plowed through those waters is so dependable. Again and again she has made the long trip and not been out a single minute at any of the numerous landings. She has been called the "Pony of the Kennebec," and nothing less than an explosion of her boiler or a collision with another craft would make her tardy anywhere.
"There are many persons along the river and on the islands who set their watches and clocks by theGardiner," said Alvin, speaking over his shoulder.
He glanced at his watch.
"I don't know when she is due at the Isle of Springs, but as I figure it she ought to be in sight now."
"And, begorrah! there she comes!" exclaimed Mike, pointing to the left toward Goose Rock Passage, leading from Knubble Bay to Sheepscot. The foaming billows tumbled away from the prow, as the boat drove resistlessly forward, and the whistle sounded for the landing. Many a time when rounding Capitol Island to the northwest of Squirrel, with a storm raging, the spray and water have been flung clean over the pilot house and slid over the upper deck and streamed away off the stern.
Chester Haynes saluted with the whistle, but the captain of theGardinergave no heed. His eye was upon the landing toward which he was steaming. When the freight had been tumbled ashore and the waiting cargo taken aboard, the gang planks were drawn in, lines cast off, and though a dozen passengers might be pointing toward the pier, shouting and waving hats or umbrellas, all would be left.
The resinous pine trees formerly including firs, larches and true cedars so thick that no spaces showed between, grew all the way down the rocky hills to the water's edge. The river, without a ripple except such as was made by passing craft, was as crystalline as a mountain spring. Here and there a rude drawing was scratched in the face of the cliffs, the work of the Indians who lived in that part of Maine before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. It was one continuous dream which never loses its charm for those who make the trip, no matter how often.
The sky remained overcast, though no rain fell, when theDeerfootdrove through the Eddy, where the current narrows and is very swift and deep. A bridge connects the mainland with Davis Island. The launch sat so low that there was no call to the bridge tender to open the draw. As it shot under, the peaks of the flagstaffs showed a foot below the planking.
They were now approaching the pretty town of Wiscasset, from which came the faint thrill of a locomotive whistle, as notice that at that point a traveler could change from boats to cars. The launch was sweeping round a bend in the river when Mike pointed to the right with the question:
"Phwat's that?"
"It is the famous blockhouse, built in 1807 for the protection of Wiscasset, four miles away, but it was never used because the town was never in danger."
The interesting structure, which you may have seen when gliding past in a boat, is octagonal in form, with one window on each face of the lower story, except on the one containing a narrow door approached by a single step of wood. As was the fashion in building blockhouses, the second story overhangs the first and on each face of this upper story is a square window with a long loop-hole placed horizontally on either side. The flat roof is surmounted by a slender cupola, also octagonal, with a window occupying nearly all the space of each face. The whole building is covered with shingles and for a long time after its erection it was surrounded by an elaborate system of earthworks.
TheDeerfootslackened its speed as it came opposite. Mike Murphy showed special interest in the old faded building.
"It suggists the palace of me grandfather, the Duke De Sassy," said he. "If ye have no great objiction, Captain, I should be glad of a closer look at it."
Since the day was at their disposal, the youthful captain was quite willing to halt and inspect the historic structure. He turned the bow toward the bank, and stopped in deep water a few feet from land. Mike cleared the intervening distance in an easy jump, taking the end of the bow line which he made fast to a convenient tree. Chester at the same time had cast out the anchor from the stern and made fast the cable to a cleat on the after or stern deck. The launch was thus held immovable and safe from injury. In the meanwhile, Alvin had employed himself in shutting down the motor, turning off the gasoline and air tank valves and making ready to leave the launch in its usual good order.
Mike said:
"I have a brilliant suggistion to make to ye, as me uncle said when he arranged to foight six men, by taking on one each day instead of engaging them all at once. The same is that we indoolge in our noon repast on shore."
The plans of the lads when they left home was to have dinner at the hotel in Wiscasset, but they had been so delayed by their leisurely ascent of the river that the meridian was past. A supply of sandwiches, ginger ale and sarsaparilla was laid in so as to be prepared for contingencies, and it need not be said that all had keen appetites. Chester remarked that it was only a brief run to the little town ahead. Moreover, it was more convenient to eat on the launch, where they could spread the food on one of the seats or the cover of the cockpit. But every boy would rather chew a venison or bear steak, though tough as leather, in preference to a tender, juicy bit of beef, and eating in the woods is tenfold more enticing than in a house or on a boat. Besides, they had been sitting so long that the change would be a relief. Accordingly, Chester and Mike gathered up the big paper bags which held the lunch, and the bottles of soft stuff, and leaped lightly ashore.
The little party walked the short distance to the primitive blockhouse, and passing a little way beyond sat down on the pine burrs and grass and tackled the food. The clear air, the odorous breath of the forest, and the soft ripple of the stream flowing past, gave the repast a charm beyond that which the Waldorf-Astoria can impart to its guests.
"It makes me sigh," said Mike when the last morsel of food had disappeared and he drew the napkin across his lips, "to think that only a few waaks are lift to us of this bliss of life."
"Yes," replied Captain Alvin; "the days fly fast; soon I shall have to go back to school and study so hard there will be mighty little time left for play."
"The same here," added Chester in a lugubrious voice. "I don't suppose there would be half as much fun in this sport if we took it straight along."
"I'm willing to try the same for tin or twinty years; it's mesilf that doesn't belave I'd grow weary in less time than thot. Couldn't ye persuade your dad, you j'ining company wid him, Chister, to give the thing a thrial for that long?"
Alvin shook his head.
"Suppose our parents should be so foolish, do you think your father and mother would allow you to squander your time like that?"
Mike removed his cap and scratched his head.
"I'm afeard there'd be objiction from that side of the house. Ye see that twinty years from now dad, if he's alive, which God grant, will be an old man; thrue I'd be in me prime, and if he was too overbearing wid me, I could lay him over me knee and spank him, but I'd sorter hate to do that, bekase of the kindness he had shown me in days gone by. Besides," added Mike, with a big wink, "me mither would be sure to take dad's part, and I'm convinced that twinty years from now she'll be bigger and stronger than to-day. With the two united in battle array agin me, I'd hev no ch'ice but to take to the woods. Yes; we'll have to give up the idea which sthruck me so favorable at first. What do ye intind to do with theDeerfoot, Captain, when the summer is gone?"
"Draw her out on land and cover her with canvas for the winter, so as to keep her in condition for a bigger outing next year."
"That maans, I 'spose, ye'll carry her in the house and put her to bed and kiver her up the same as a sick baby?"
"Hardly that, but she will need and will receive the best of care—hark!"
The three were silent for a minute. Faintly but distinctly all caught the distant whirr from the exhaust of a speed launch. They quickly noted that the sound grew less audible—proof that the launch was speeding away from them.
At first it seemed to be in the direction of Wiscasset, but when they were barely able to hear the noise, they agreed that it was from down the river. Inasmuch as they had not met any boat on their way to this point, they were puzzled to understand how the craft could have passed them without being seen. The only explanation was that it had come nearly to the blockhouse from below, and then owing to some cause had turned about and gone back.
"That's queer," remarked Alvin, as a sudden suspicion flashed over him. He sprang to his feet and ran round the building, the others at his heels, for the same dread was with them. In a moment Alvin halted with the exclamation:
"Some one has run off with our launch!"
Such was the fact.
"Maybe it slipped free and floated off," said Chester, who did not pause until he reached the water's edge.
"Mebbe she climbed out of the river and wint round t'other side of the blockhouse," suggested Mike, who regretted the next moment his ill-timed jest and joined Chester, with Alvin only a pace or two behind them.
There was a brief hope that Chester was right and that the motor boat had worked free and drifted down stream, but it was quickly evident that that was impossible. The bow line and anchor would have held if not disturbed by some one.
Then, too, what meant the muffled exhaust heard a few minutes before? It could have been caused only by the starting of the motor. Alvin, who showed quicker wit than his companions, examined the ground at the water's edge. He quickly read the solution.
"There are the footprints of several people in the soft earth. All is as plain as day."
"All what?" asked Chester.
"The manner of theDeerfoot'sgoing."
"Give us your explanation."
"While we sat behind the blockhouse eating lunch, two or three or perhaps more persons came out of the woods and walked to this spot; they cast off the bow line, sprang aboard; one of them drew the boat out over the stern anchor and tripped it; they did not start the engine till they had drifted round the bend below; then they headed for Sheepscot Bay and are well on their way there, running at full speed as they do not need to spare the launch."
"Bedad! I b'lave ye're right," said Mike, compressing his lips. "I'm off!"
"What do you mean?" asked the astonished Captain.
"I'm going to run a race wid the same to Cape Newagen!"
"Why, you have no more chance of overtaking the boat than you have of out-swimming theMauretania."
But Mike made no reply. Spitting on his hands and rubbing them together, he broke into a lope and quickly passed from sight in the woods.
Despite the alarming situation, Alvin and Chester looked in each other's face and laughed.
"Did you ever know of anything so crazy?" asked the Captain.
"Never; the idea of putting his short legs against a boat that can run twenty odd miles an hour and has a good start, is worthy of Mike Murphy alone."
"But we must do something," said the puzzled Alvin; "some one has stolen the launch and should be headed off."
"How shall we do it?"
"The easiest way is to cross the long bridge to Wiscasset on the other side of the river and telegraph to different points down stream."
They were about to start when Alvin said:
"I ought not to have allowed Mike to go off as he did. He is so rash and headlong that he will be sure to run into trouble. If we go to Wiscasset, we shall be separated so long that we shall lose him altogether. If I had only put the switch plug in my pocket they could not have started the motor without a lot of time and trouble!"
"Why not follow him down stream?"
"That plan was in my mind. The boat hasn't had time to go far. Suppose we try Point Quarry. That is the lowest village of Edgecomb township, where Cross River turns off and runs into the Back River, which follows the course of the Sheepscot and joins it lower down. At Point Quarry the stream is so narrow that theDeerfootis sure to be seen."
"Provided some one happens to be looking."
"Many of these small places have telegraph lines open in the summer, but are closed in winter. A road leads from Charmount to Point Quarry, which isn't more than four or five miles away. Less than half of that distance will take us to Charmount. Come on."
The boys lost no time. Both had studied their map so closely before leaving home and on their way up the Sheepscot that they had no fear of going astray. The surrounding country is sparsely settled, with prosperous farms here and there lining the highway. The walking was good and the sky had cleared within the last few hours. The lads were athletic, and were impelled by impatience and resentment toward whoever had taken such a liberty with another's property.
Two miles took them to a point where a branch road led off at right angles in the direction of the Sheepscot and consequently to the meager settlement of Charmount, below the eddy, where a wooden bridge joins the mainland to Davis Island. They met no vehicles or footmen, though they passed a number of tidy looking houses and saw men at work in the fields. Their destination was less than a mile off and they reached it in due time. They found a young woman in charge of the telegraph instrument, who in answer to their inquiry said she could send a message to Point Quarry, where the station would be closed in a few weeks.
The youths while on the road had formulated what to say by telegraph. Since they had no acquaintance at either place, Alvin addressed his inquiry to the operator, who happened also to be a young woman. This was the message:
"Will you be good enough to tell me, if you can, whether a motor boat has passed down the river within the last few minutes?"
In a brief while, an unexpectedly favorable reply was returned. It was addressed, however, to the young woman herself, who after writing it down rose to her feet and called to Alvin.
"Here is your answer. Miss Prentiss says that it isn't her business to keep watch of boats passing up and down stream, her salary being so big that she has no time to give attention to anything except the affairs of her office."
"I suppose that is meant as sarcasm," commented Alvin.
"It does sound like it, but she adds that the fisherman, Pete Davis, came into the office directly after your message reached her, and she asked him your question. He told her that such a boat as you speak of had gone past under full speed only a few minutes before and he read the nameDeerfooton her bow."
"That's it!" exclaimed Alvin. "Did the fisherman say anything more?"
"Probably he did, but Miss Prentiss hasn't reported it. Is there anything further I can do for you?"
"Nothing—thank you."
As he spoke, he passed a half dollar tip to her, whereupon she beamingly expressed her gratitude. In truth she was so pleased that she smiled more broadly than ever into the handsome face of the youth before her. Alvin suspected she was ready for a mild flirtation, but he was in no mood for such frivolity and was about to turn away, when Chester spoke in a low voice:
"She has something more to say to you."
"Well?" he remarked inquiringly, returning the sunny gaze of the young woman.
"Do you know anyone by the name of Mike Murphy?"
Alvin laughed.
"I rather think we do; he came up on the boat with us, and is rushing down the river in the hope of overtaking it."
"Well, he stopped in here and sent a telegram about it."
"Is it possible? Let me see it."
She shook her head.
"Not without an order from court; the rules do not permit anything of that kind."
"We won't tell anybody."
"I know you won't, for you will never have anything to tell."
She turned and looked down at the last sheet of yellow paper on her file. Then she grew red in the face and shook with mirth.
"To whom did Mike send his message?"
"I wish I dare tell you; it is the funniest thing that has ever happened in the office since I have been here. You couldn't guess in ten years."
"We have hardly that much time to spend in trying, so we shall have to give it up."
"When you see your friend say to him from me that his message was forwarded just as he directed."
"Where did he tell you to deliver the reply?"
"He said nothing of that. I have a suspicion that there won't be any reply to his telegram."
Alvin was turning away again, when the miss, leaning on her desk and tapping her pretty white teeth with the end of her lead pencil smilingly asked:
"Would you really like to see Mike Murphy's telegram?"
"It would be of great help to us in our search for the stolen boat," replied Alvin, stepping closer to her.
Chester remained standing by the outer door, with hands thrust in his pockets. He read the signs aright.
"She has taken a fancy to him," he reflected, "and as there doesn't happen to be much business on hand just now is disposed to flirt a little, but Alvin isn't."
"How much will you pay for a sight of the message?"
"Anything in reason."
"And you will never, never, never tell?"
"I give you my pledge that I will not whisper it to any person."
"How about your friend back there? He has a hangdog look which I don't like."
"I'll answer for him; there are worse fellows, though not many. Chester!" commanded Alvin, turning abruptly upon him, "get out of sight and wait for me."
"Yes, sir," meekly answered the youth, turning about and passing into the open air, where he added to himself, with a broader grin than before:
"He doesn't suspect she's kidding him, but that's what she's doing."
The young Captain beamed upon the miss.
"Now I'm ready to have a look at my friend's telegram."
"You haven't said how much you will pay," she replied, with a coquettish glance at the expectant youth.
"How much do you ask?"
"Is it worth five dollars?"
"That's a pretty big price, but I'll give it."
"It isn't enough."
"Name your charge then."
"Fifty thousand dollars; I can't do it for a cent less."
Alvin read the pert miss aright. He soberly reached into his pocket and drew out his wallet.
"I haven't that much with me; will you take my promissory note?"
"Nothing but cash goes here."
"Some other day—good day."
He lifted his cap and passed out doors to join his grinning friend. The two started off at a brisk pace and had not taken a dozen steps when they ran straight into trouble.