Barbour Ralph Henry
Four Afloat: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Water

CHAPTER XXIII – TELLS HOW THE FOUR ENCOUNTERED OLD ACQUAINTANCES

Have you ever, dear Reader, sat down in a chair when it wasn’t there? Or skated to skim ice supposing it to be two inches thick? Have you ever stood at the net, with the eyes of the “gallery” upon you, and smiled grimly and yet pityingly as you swung your racket up for the overhead smash that was to “kill” the ball, and then hit only air? If you have ever done any of these things you can have a dim idea, at least, of how Nelson and Bob and Tom looked and felt when Dan, alternately scowling like a desperado and grinning like a Chinese idol, opened the stateroom door and walked out upon them!

I would tell you just what each one said when he found his voice, only Barry kept up such a barking and Tommy such a stuttering that the remarks were anything but intelligible. And the same may be said of the conversation which followed for the next ten minutes. Dan explained and defended and the others questioned and accused; and Barry barked hilariously and enjoyed it all immensely. But in the course of time order evolved from chaos, and with returning calmness came returning hunger. Tom stopped “dropping stitches” and hurriedly put luncheon on the table. And by the time it was ready the Vagabond was tied up at the wharf where the Sylph belonged. At table Dan gave the first clear, orderly narration of events.

“You see,” he said, “when I got home I found that dad was getting ready to take a late train to Meriden on some business or other. But that wouldn’t give us much time with each other, so he said that if I’d come along he’d take the Norwich boat at six and go on from here this morning at 7.40. So that’s what we did.”

“We never thought about the boat,” said Nelson sadly.

“We got in about five this morning and had breakfast aboard. Then I showed dad the boat and he thought she was swell. Luckily I had the key with me and could get inside. Of course I was surprised to find you fellows weren’t aboard, but I thought maybe you’d gone to the hotel for dinner last night and that it had rained so hard you’d decided to spend the night there. But Barry was here and maybe he wasn’t glad to see me! Well, about half-past seven I saw dad off on the train. Then I came back and didn’t have anything to do. So I thought I’d like to see if I could run her myself. I’d watched Nel lots of times and was pretty sure I could do it. So I tried and there wasn’t any trouble at all. I thought you fellows would come along about eight and find the boat gone and have a fit. Then I was going to come back in time for the last spasm. But she went so well and it was such fun that I went farther than I meant to, and all of a sudden she got peeved and began to cut up.”

“How?” asked Nelson.

“She lost sparks and pretty near stopped. ‘Me to the rescue,’ thinks I. I’d seen you do stunts with the vaporizer thing, you know, so I tried my hand. Well, first thing I knew she wouldn’t go a foot! Just spit and sighed and sulked. I turned that wheel over about a thousand times, I’ll bet! Took my coat off and then my vest, and wilted my collar, but there was nothing doing. ‘Then,’ thinks I, ‘it’s up to little Dannie to do some towing.’ So I put the tender over and came down to change my clothes. That’s where I fell down.”

“I should think so,” said Bob disgustedly.

“You see,” continued Dan, with a grin, “I hadn’t slept very well on the boat coming from New York and I’d got up early. So I was awfully sleepy and tired. ‘So,’ says I to myself, ‘I’ll just lie down here on the bunk a minute and rest up’; I knew I had a hard job ahead of me. Well, that’s about all I remember until I woke up a while ago and smelled coffee; I guess it was the coffee that woke me. At first, when Nelson sung out and told me you were three to one, I thought I was still dreaming. Then I did some thinking and guessed that somehow or other you’d taken me for some one else. I didn’t know what the gag was, but I thought I’d see it through. When you told me to hand over my revolver I remembered Bob’s and got that out. I did what I could for you, you see. But I came near spoiling it by laughing. When I heard Nel’s stern voice I thought I’d have to stuff a pillow in my mouth!”

“It’s good you didn’t get gay and come through the door,” said Nelson grimly. “If you had you’d been laid out with a monkey wrench on the side of your head.”

“That would have been a wrench,” laughed Dan. “Give me some more of the hash, Tommy; it’s the best ever.”

After luncheon was over they decided to go on and try to make New Haven that evening. It was not yet three o’clock and they would have four hours and a half of daylight in which to cover about forty-five miles. So the tender was hoisted aboard and the Vagabond was cast loose from the wharf, and twenty minutes later they left the river water and turned westward. Bob gave a grunt of satisfaction.

“Well,” he said, “I’m glad to see the last of that place. I’d begun to think that we were going to spend the rest of the summer there!”

A moment later Tom pointed out the Seamont Inn where it stood on a hill a short distance back from the shore. And for the next half hour he regaled Dan with a history of his brief connection with that hostelry.

It was an ideal afternoon, with the hot sunshine tempered by a cool breeze from the southwest. On the starboard the picturesque Connecticut shore lay near at hand, jutting out into little promontories and retreating to form charming bays and inlets. On their other side, the distant shore of Long Island showed blue and hazy across the smooth waters of the Sound.

They made New Haven at a little after seven, found anchorage and rowed ashore in the tender. They had dinner ashore, idled away an hour about town afterwards and turned in early. The next morning they paid a visit to the post office and were rewarded with a good-sized bunch of mail. Then Dan telegraphed his folks to expect them for dinner that evening, and at nine o’clock they were on their way again. There followed an enjoyable but uneventful day. There was plenty to look at, since the Sound was alive with boats of all sorts and descriptions. They passed Stamford at one o’clock, the Vagabond taking up the miles and tossing them astern in a very businesslike manner. Once in the East River it was necessary to slow down on account of the traffic. Ferry boats and excursion steamers persisted in getting in the way, and sailing yachts and launches were everywhere. At a few minutes before six the Vagabond sidled up to a wharf near the end of Fifty-first Street and was made fast for the night. Dan’s father knew the owner of the property – Dan had often gone in bathing from that very spot when a few years younger – and the watchman promised to keep an eye on the launch. They made very swell toilets and then piled out for a walk across town to Dan’s house.

That evening was a merry one. It was good to sit down once more at a table a-glimmer with cut glass and radiant with white napery and flowers; in fact, it was good to be at home again, even if the home didn’t happen to belong to them all. Mr. and Mrs. Speede, who were old friends since the Four had spent several days there the preceding summer before their walking trip, made Bob and Nelson and Tom feel quite as much at home there as Dan himself; although I don’t believe much compulsion was necessary in Tom’s case; Tom would have made himself at home anywhere. Mr. Speede was much interested in the story of their trip, and especially in the adventure with Captain Sauder and Spencer Floyd.

“Well,” he said, “it’s too bad the captain got him again, for that’s just what happened, I guess, but you boys did all you could and I wouldn’t have had you do any less.”

“I suppose the poor kid’s halfway up North by this time,” observed Bob.

“And getting his lickings regular,” added Nelson.

“Maybe not, though,” said Tom hopefully. “Maybe he found another chance to run away and made a go of it.”

“Well, let’s hope so,” said Mr. Speede. “Now, how do you boys feel about a visit to one of the roof gardens? It’s late, but I guess we can see something of the show. At least we can keep cool.”

What they said was quite flattering to their host and to roof gardens. Bedtime came very late that night and breakfast time very late the next morning. It was an insufferably hot day in the city and that fact made them less regretful over leaving the comforts of Dan’s home. But the Speedes were busy getting ready to go to the country and even Tom felt that their presence wasn’t exactly necessary to Mrs. Speede’s happiness. Besides, their cruise was nearing its end, since the last letter that Nelson had received from his father made it plain that the Vagabond was expected back at Boston in a few days. So the Four said good-by at eleven and returned to the launch. They were to head for Boston, but as they had four or five days in which to get there, they proposed to stop once or twice along the Long Island shore on the way. But first it was necessary to put in gasoline, and to that end they dropped down the river to a wharf near the Brooklyn Bridge where that necessity was sold.

The fogs which made that summer well remembered along the coast had not yet taken their departure, and on the river distant objects were veiled in gray haze. So the Vagabond made the trip very cautiously, keeping a sharp watch for ferry boats, which, as every experienced launch knows, are blundering, awkward things which would just as lief run you down as not. But the wharf was made without misadventure and the Vagabond snuggled up to its side under the counter of a small schooner. While Nelson and Dan went ashore to order the gasoline Bob and Tom busied themselves cleaning up about the deck. It was while engaged at this task that Tom heard voices almost overhead. One of the voices sounded familiar in a dim sort of way and he began to wonder who was talking. From where he was he could not see the persons, for they were on the deck of the schooner and hidden by her rail. But presently Tom climbed to the cabin roof and craned his head. The next moment he was down again and out of sight in the cockpit. He had glimpsed only the heads and shoulders of two men. One was a well-dressed man, evidently a landsman, and Tom had never seen him before. But the other, and Tom had needed but the briefest glance to satisfy himself of the fact, was Captain Sauder!

Excitedly he dragged Bob into the engine room and told him. Bob laughed.

“Nonsense, Tommy!” he said. “Captain Sauder’s up North somewhere by this time.”

“Look yourself!” answered Tom. “But du-du-du-don’t let him su-su-see you!”

“I will,” answered Bob. But it wasn’t necessary, for as he returned to the cockpit his eyes traveled upward over the schooner’s stern and there in gold letters was the name:

HENRY NELLIS

NEW YORK

Impatiently they awaited the return of Nelson and Dan, keeping well out of sight the while. Presently the voices ceased, but whether the captain and the other man had left the schooner or merely moved away from the stern there was no telling. Nelson and Dan were back a moment later and listened eagerly to the news.

“What’s to be done?” asked Bob.

“Keep out of sight,” answered Nelson promptly, “until we’ve got our gasoline in and then move away as quietly as we can.”

“And leave Spencer?” asked Dan incredulously.

“No, but if the captain sees us here we’ll never have a show to see the boy. What we want to do is to keep out of sight. One of us, though, ought to stay around here and find out how long the schooner’s going to be here and whether Spencer is aboard of her. And Bob’s a good chap to do that.”

“Let me do it!” begged Dan.

“You! He’d recognize you first time he set eyes on you! You don’t think, do you, that he’s likely to forget a fellow that’s looked at him along a revolver barrel?”

Dan gave in.

“I’ll get into shore clothes,” said Bob, “and try to look as little as possible as I did when he saw me last. You tell me where you’ll be so that I can find you.” And he hurried down to the stateroom. When he returned Dan pretended not to know him, declaring finally that the “disgust” was perfect. Then, very carelessly, Bob climbed to the wharf and sauntered out of sight. During the operation of filling the gasoline tank the remaining three kept as much as possible out of sight, although they neither heard nor saw anything more of Captain Sauder. Finally, casting loose from the wharf, they pushed the Vagabond quietly away along the side of the Henry Nellis until they had rounded the end of the pier and were out of sight from the schooner. Then they dropped down the river until there were three wharves between them and the Nellis and found a new berth.

CHAPTER XXIV – WHEREIN SPENCER FLOYD LEAVES THE HENRY NELLIS

“Now what?” asked Dan when the Vagabond had been made fast in her new quarters at the end of a file of disreputable canal boats. “How are we going to get hold of Spencer?”

“It’s a heap easier to ask questions than to answer them,” replied Nelson. “Anyone got any suggestions?”

Of course every one had, but none of them were practical and they were still discussing the problem when Bob arrived on the scene.

“What did you find out?” asked Nelson and Dan as one. Bob looked surprisedly about the circle to the accompaniment of Barry’s tapping tail.

“Isn’t there going to be any luncheon?” he asked.

“Thunder!” cried Tom. “What time is it? I forgot all about it!”

“We all did,” said Dan. “Get a move on, Tommy; Mr. Hawkshaw is in a hurry.”

“Well, but I want to hear about it,” objected Tom. “You fellows come on down.”

So they all adjourned to the engine room and while Tom set about the preparation of luncheon Bob made his report.

“I found out two or three things,” said Bob. “In the first place, Spencer Floyd is still there, because I saw him and he saw me. In the second place the Henry Nellis sails to-morrow morning for St. Johns, Newfoundland.”

“Then we’ve got to get busy to-day,” said Dan resolutely.

“She’d have been gone several days,” Bob continued, “if it hadn’t been for some row between her owners.”

“Then Captain Chowder doesn’t own her?” asked Nelson.

“He owns a fourth,” answered Bob. “After I got on the wharf I went across to a schooner lying on the other side, the Two Brothers. I told one of the men on deck that I’d like to come aboard and look around and he said all right. We got quite chummy and he told me about the Henry Nellis. He had been talking to one of her crew. I asked him what he knew about Captain Sander, only I didn’t let on that I’d ever heard of him before. He said he didn’t know anything about him except what the other chap had told him, which was only that the captain was a tartar when he got mad. I kept my eye on the Nellis all the time. I could see over her rail from where I sat on the deck of the other boat, but I wasn’t in plain sight in case the captain had happened along. But I didn’t see anything of him and the chap I was talking to didn’t know whether he was on board or ashore. The only men I saw on the Nellis were a couple of deck hands, one of them that Dago with the earrings. I guess most of the crew were ashore. But presently somebody walked out of the galley and tossed a panful of potato parings over the farther side and I saw that it was Spencer. When he came back toward the galley I stood up. At first he didn’t see me, but just as he was going through the doorway he glanced across and stopped. He didn’t recognize me at all until I made a motion with my hand. Then he looked forward where the two men were sitting, back to him, and walked over to the rail and pretended to scrape the tin pan clean. But he was looking me over and I saw that he remembered my face but couldn’t place me. So I climbed back to the wharf and moved over toward him. When I got about ten feet away I turned my back to him and pretended to be looking at the Two Brothers.”

“You’re a born detective, Bob,” said Dan admiringly.

“Shut up, Dan!” said Tom impatiently.

“I called to him softly,” Bob went on, “and he answered. ‘I’m one of the fellows from the Vagabond,’ said I. ‘Is the captain on board?’ ‘No,’ said Spencer, ‘he’s at the head of the wharf, in the office.’ ‘Can you get by without his seeing you?’ I asked, and Spencer said No. Then I asked him if he still wanted to get away and he said he did, and from the way he said it I guess he meant it! So I said: ‘We’ll come alongside to-night in the launch and get you if you think you can get away.’ ‘What time?’ he asked. ‘Any time,’ said I. ‘Whenever you think best.’ ‘About half-past nine, then,’ said he. ‘I’ll watch for you.’ ‘All right,’ said I. ‘But don’t let them suspect anything.’ He was just starting to say something else when one of the sailors yelled at him to keep away from the rail or he’d knock his head off. I didn’t turn around, but I walked back and forth a couple of times as though I was admiring the Two Brothers. Then I sauntered away along the wharf toward the street. I thought I was pretty well through with it when a man came out of a building ahead of me and walked toward me. I saw at once that he was Captain Sander. At first I thought I’d turn around and go back to the Two Brothers until he was out of the way. Then I thought that that would be too raw; he’d think I was trying to avoid him. So I put my hands in my pockets and passed him, kicking at the boards and looking at my feet. I only glanced at him once. He saw me but I don’t think he paid any attention to me. So there you are. That’s how matters stand.”

“Bully for you!” cried Dan. “Talk about your Sherlock Holmeses and your – your – !”

“Yes, indeed, Dan,” said Nelson soothingly. “But what we want to do now is to – ”

“Eat luncheon,” interrupted Tom.

Before that meal was over their campaign was fully planned out. It was simple enough and depended for success on their ability to reach the Henry Nellis undetected and Spencer Floyd’s ability to reach the Vagabond in the same way.

“If we get him,” said Nelson, “we’ll make a bee-line for Mullen’s Cove.”

“How far is it?” asked Bob.

“About eighty miles. We won’t try to get there to-night, I guess, but we’ll go far enough to throw the captain off the scent; maybe to Hempstead; we can do that in two hours.”

“It isn’t likely the old pirate will try to chase us this time,” said Dan. “He won’t have a tug handy as he did at Sanstable.”

“Well, we won’t run any risks,” said Nelson. “As soon as Spencer’s aboard we’ll make tracks.”

And so it was settled. But the plan was discussed and rediscussed many times during the afternoon. Time went very slowly. At four they took a run around the Battery and up the North River for a ways, as Nelson said, to see that the engine worked all right, but in reality, I think, to relieve the suspense of waiting. They had dinner ashore at a funny little café, on South Street, frequented principally by the better class of officers and sailors from the ships and steamboats along the adjacent waterfront. What they had was good, if plain, and they did full justice to it. Bob settled the bill at the little desk near the door when they had finished and the others went on out to the sidewalk. When Bob rejoined them his face showed that something had disturbed him.

“What’s up?” asked Nelson. For answer Bob seized him by the arm and hurried him away from in front of the restaurant, the others following.

“Captain Sander,” said Bob, when they were some distance away. “He was sitting at the table between the desk and the window!”

Dan whistled.

“Do you think he saw us?” asked Nelson.

Bob shook his head doubtfully.

“I don’t believe so. He had a paper propped up in front of him and he never looked up after I noticed him. I wish, though, we’d gone somewhere else for supper.”

“Yes,” agreed Dan, “it would have been better even to have eaten Tommy’s cooking!”

At half-past seven the Vagabond chugged up to the end of the next pier to that at which the Henry Nellis lay. The launch showed no lights. Seated in the cockpit the four waited silently and impatiently for the hands of the clock in the cabin to approach the half hour after nine. After two bells had struck Dan went down every five minutes or so, struck a match and looked at the clock. Finally he came back and whispered: “Nine-twenty-five, Nel!”

Bob went to the wheel and Nelson disappeared into the engine room. The single line which had held them to the side of a big lighter came away and the propeller churned the water. Out into the stream went the Vagabond. Then, when she was opposite the Henry Nellis, Bob swung the wheel over and she headed for the darkness of the dock. While still some distance out the engine was shut off and the launch slid quietly into the gloom, headed for the side of the schooner which lay dimly outlined in the darkness.

Slower and slower went the launch. Bob, at the wheel, peered intently forward. At the bow Dan stood ready to thrust her nose away or draw her in toward the schooner. From the Henry Nellis came no sound and only one light showed from her deck. The Vagabond lost all headway and lay rocking gently in the black water. But Dan could reach the side of the schooner, and in another moment the launch was being pulled slowly along past the dark, tarry hull. Then came the most difficult task of all. They had decided that it would be wisest to have the Vagabond turned around with her head to the stream, and now they set about it. But it was the hardest sort of work, and more than once sounds resulted which would have been sufficient to warn those on the schooner had they been expecting visitors. As no alarm was given the boys hopefully decided that they had escaped detection by the captain in the restaurant. Finally the launch lay straight alongside the schooner, amidships, and there was nothing left to do but wait for Spencer. Suddenly the clock in the cabin struck three bells so loudly that the four held their breath. They had forgotten to muffle it. They listened but heard no sound from the schooner. The minutes passed. Dan crept down and looked at the clock, returning to the cockpit to whisper that it was almost a quarter to ten. Then from somewhere on the schooner came the faint sound of a sliding door or hatch.

Nelson groped his way to the cabin door so that he could reach the engine promptly. A moment passed. Then something fell at Dan’s feet with a soft thud and a dim figure appeared above at the rail. At the same moment a door crashed open on deck and heavy footsteps sounded. The figure scrambled over the rail and came half-falling to the deck of the Vagabond. Dan seized Spencer and dragged him into the cockpit just as the irate voice of Captain Sauder broke the silence.

“Spencer!” he bellowed. “Where are you? Go below or I’ll shoot a hole in you! I see you there! Come out, you sneakin’ fool!”

“Hurry, Nel!” whispered Bob hoarsely into the gloom of the engine room. Then the throb of the Vagabond’s propeller sounded startlingly loud and the launch slid forward in the darkness. Back against the lighter background of the cloudy sky appeared the form of the captain. A red flare lighted the darkness where he stood and a bullet whistled over Dan’s head.

“Duck!” cried Dan, forgetting caution. All save Bob threw themselves on to the floor of the cockpit. Again the revolver spoke and a bullet crashed into the cabin roof a foot from Bob’s arm. Then the Vagabond was free of the slip and had swung upstream, her propeller churning the water into white froth at the stern. Once more the captain fired, but the bullet was lost far astern. As they passed the head of the next pier they could hear the captain raging and swearing back there in the night.