Chapter XIII: The River Pirate

It was all done as quick as a flash, almost.

The unknown man aboard the white motor boat had no sooner sliced the rope apart, thus allowing the craft to swing free and begin moving with the current, always pulling steadily at it while lying there, than he did something more.

“Look at him with the push-pole!” whooped Josh.

“Hey! hold on there! That ain’t your boat. I’ll have the law on you for stealing!” cried out the dapper young chap, who had thrown his blankets aside, and was standing there, shaking his fist after the bold trespasser.

The big man with him, who had done all the work on the engine earlier in the night, Jenks, started to rush toward the landing, as though he believed in deeds rather than words. But the fellow who was so coolly making off with their boat laughed harshly as he plied the push-pole briskly.

Already had the boat gained a certain momentum, and if allowed to continue as it was going for another full minute, would be lost to the owner.

Jack and his five companions had not held back all this time either. They were at a disadvantage, being much further away from the scene of action than those who had been sleeping near the remains of the fire. Consequently there was little chance for them to reach the spot before the man had accomplished his evil task, and completed the seizure of the white boat.

Jenks rushed down the shore like a mad bull. From his actions it seemed as if he contemplated jumping into the river, and forcing his way out to the stolen boat in spite of everything.

Indeed, he did push into the water, which happened to be rather shallow at that point, and was making a gallant attempt to board the boat, when suddenly the man dropped his pole, and held something out toward Jenks that glistened in the moonlight.

“Keep back or I’ll shoot!” they heard him call out.

Jenks possibly did not believe him, for he kept rushing through the water still; whereupon there came a sharp report, and a flash of flame.

“Oh!” cried Buster.

Jenks had pulled up short, and seemed to be wavering.

“That was only a warning,” the man aboard went on to say, angrily; “but try it some more, and I’ll aim for keeps. You get me, don’t you?”

All this was plainly seen because of the bright moon. And while they stood and stared, they heard the crank of the engine worked, and immediately the rapid sound of the exhaust told that Jenks had indeed placed it in splendid order, much to his regret now.

So the white boat began to speed away. Jack noticed that instead of keeping on down the river, the thief was gradually starting to curve to the right, as though it was his intention to come around and head up stream. At the moment he did not realize what this might mean but a little later it dawned upon him in full force.

Meanwhile there was more or less excitement around that spot.

Jenks came wading ashore again, and holding his left arm in a way that would indicate that he had received some sort of a wound at the time the desperate thief fired at him.

The younger stranger was dancing around in a furious fashion, and acting so like a simpleton in his anger that Jack felt ashamed to remember that he had once suspected him of being the slick thief whom the paper called Slim Jim. Why, this chap was an innocent of the innocents, just the kind of boy his appearance had stamped him--some rich man’s petted darling, allowed to have a fine boat for a play toy, with a steady man to run it for him, whom he could boss around.

All this Jack realized in the brief space of time that he stood there, surveying the scene, and hearing the popping of the motor boat’s exhaust sounding less and less noisy, as the stolen craft went further and further away from the island.

And about that time the distracted owner of the boat seemed to realize that he and Jenks were not alone. He stared at Jack and his companions as though unable to understand how they came there, or if they were really flesh and blood.

“They said that this miserable island was haunted,” he exclaimed, “and I’m beginning to believe it’s so. Who are you, fellows, and where did you spring from?”

Jack was for taking the bull by the horns. He had seen all his suspicions concerning these two swept aside, so that they were no longer objects of concern in his eyes.

“It’s too long a story to tell just now,” he remarked as he approached the other. “We belong in a town above here, and are having a little outing on board our three motor boats, which are tied up not far away. When you landed we wondered who you were, because there has been a robbery committed in Lawrence up the river, and the two yeggs who broke into the bank were said to have escaped in a white motor boat with a red band around the gunnel.”

“What’s that?” gasped the other, as though staggered by such astonishing information, “took us for burglars, did you? I like that, now. Why, my name’s Algernon Lorrimer, and my father’s one of the richest men in Minneapolis. Get that?”

“Yes, and I’ve heard of him, all right,” said Jack. “We’re glad to meet you, Algernon, even if it is under queer conditions. My name’s Jack Stormways,” and then he proceeded to string off the names of his five companions in rapid-fire order, the other boy bowing politely at each in turn; evidently Algernon had been well brought up, and was accustomed to the usages of good society, even though he might be only a “stick” aboard a boat, insofar as being able to help run the same was concerned.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, fellows,” he said, loftily. “I hope you’ll pardon me if I seem rather out of sorts. Here I am left, high and dry on this island, with my new boat stolen by that contemptible rascal. But he’ll be sorry he ever treated me like this. My father will have him found out and punished. That boat cost two thousand dollars just last week. We were on our first cruise with it, and playing tag with Chauncey Gregory and his Firefly. They were to chase us, you know, and the first one to get to St. Louis without being seen by the other was to win the race. But we had some trouble with our engine, though we managed to fix it in great shape. And now my Saunterer is stolen by a vile wretch. How could he have ever come out here on this lonely island; and what would he want to take such a fine boat for, when he couldn’t sell it anywhere, without being arrested?”

Apparently Algernon was “some talker,” as Josh put it. Once he got started, and he was like a seven-day clock in action. And Jack chuckled to think that they had been looking upon all this as assumed, and that the millionaire’s pampered boy had been a desperate thief, playing a little game. It was one of the most ridiculous happenings that had ever come to the motor boat chums.

And as Algernon was talking a sudden idea had leaped into Jack’s active mind. This time it was founded on facts that were absolutely true, and could be relied upon.

It all hinged on that wonderful sweater belonging to Buster, and which was so queerly marked with a blue moon.

Now Jack knew positively that the same garment had been in the shed where the trio of motor boats were lying, awaiting the beginning of the cruise, on the previous evening, for he had handled it himself. Buster could not find it when he wanted to wear it later on, and the rest believed that it had been carelessly left somewhere in the shop or shed, though as we have seen, the fat boy suspected Josh of playing a sly trick on him.

Now the fact that this strange man was actually wearing the novel sweater was positive evidence that he must have been in the shop of the boat builder on the previous night, for some purpose or other, and had taken the garment then, perhaps because it looked warm, and he anticipated a chilly ride down the river.

Yes, Jack had jumped to a conclusion in the matter. Although his first guess with regard to the identity of Algernon and Jenks had been a bad one, he believed he could do much better with this other fellow; and whom he now believed to be one of the desperate scoundrels who had broken into the bank at Lawrence.

A lot of things went to point that way; and Buster’s sweater was the only connecting clue, as it were. How the men happened to be on the island, and why one of them was ready to take chances in stealing some of their food, of course Jack was hardly in a condition to say just then. They must have been pretty hungry, which would indicate that they could not have had any food aboard their boat at the time they fled from pursuit. Perhaps some accident had happened to the craft in which they had come down the river. That would account for the fellow stealing the fine new motor boat belonging to the tenderfoot cruiser, Algernon. It may have taken his fancy for some reason or other; perhaps because it happened to resemble their own craft, now disabled.

Strange how things will fly through the mind at times, when there is any cause for excitement. Jack thought of a score of facts calculated to back up his theory, even while he was standing there, with the throbbing of the lost boat still sounding faintly in his ears.

Whatever of mystery there might be about the actions of the man who had run off with the Saunterer, this was really no time for explanations, or to try and figure things out. Later on, when it was all over, and they could sit comfortably beside a camp fire, it would be fun to piece things together, and find out just what had influenced all these events to come about.

“Boys,” Jack said, turning to his friends, “I’ve just come to the conclusion that we’ve run across one of those bank thieves after all.”

“You mean the chap who stole my boat?” ejaculated Algernon, “goodness gracious! who would have thought now, that I’d come in contact with such desperate characters in my little run down-river. And he shot my man, too; see, Jenks is getting one of your friends, to wrap a rag around his arm. This is thrilling. It makes my blood run cold to think that I was actually so close to a real burglar. Won’t I have the story to tell Chauncey, though? But how am I ever to get off this island, and try to recover my boat?”

“Leave that to us, Algernon,” said Jack, quietly.

“Hurrah! Jack’s taken the job on!” shouted Josh, excitedly, “and when he says he’ll see it through, you can bet your boots he means business. What are we going to do about it, Jack?”

All eyes were of course turned upon the Commodore. In this critical time they seemed to depend on him to lead the way out of the maze. Jack would know what to do; that was what the rest always said to each other, as soon as any serious difficulty arose.

And Jack simply raised his hand as if to call for silence, as he said:

“Wait a minute, fellows, I want to listen to what those rapid-fire explosions aboard the white motor boat are telling me. They’re getting louder again, you notice, with every minute that passes.”