Chapter XI: Recovering a Stolen Boat
"After him!" exclaimed Frank, as he also sprang to his feet.
"Stop the scoundrel!" echoed Will, a bit slower at getting in motion.
Of course Frank never once dreamed that it could be any other than one of the two hoboes. They needed various things, and a boat might be among the number, although evidently they must have had a craft of some sort in order to reach the island in the beginning.
The moon was half hidden among a few floating clouds that hung close to the horizon, but gave plenty of light for them to see what was going on. The bold thief must have been prowling around in the vicinity of the camp, trying to get a chance to make way with something.
Even as they looked he was shoving the canoe in the water. Then he tumbled into it rather awkwardly, which was a pretty good sign that he knew little about balancing in one of the cranky little craft.
"Where are the other boats--get the key to unlock them!" exclaimed Frank.
"I've got it right here--this way, fellows!" echoed Bluff.
He was already bending over the bunch of boats consisting of the mate to the stolen craft and the big double canoe.
Frank snatched up a paddle and bounded over to where his comrades knelt. As soon as Bluff threw the chain aside the other snatched up the single canoe, rushed straight to the water's edge and launched it. All this had taken but a comparatively few seconds to transpire. Indeed, the thief was not fifty feet away at the time Frank threw himself into the other craft.
Bluff and Will drew up on the edge of the water.
"Mind the camp! Get the guns secure! This may be a clever trick to draw attention away from the tents! I'll take care of the thief, fellows!"
Frank's voice boomed over the lake. Already he was sending his paddle deep into the water, and urging his frail craft onward with constantly increasing speed.
"He's right. We must guard the camp! This way, Will--pick up Frank's gun, and keep watch. We can have one eye on the lake and the other here!" called Bluff, who was quick to catch on to a thing once he heard it.
So they stood there on the border, each making quick turns of the head in order to see all that went on.
If any thief entered that camp just then, calculating on having a clear field for his operations, he was likely to soon regret his temerity, for the boys were tremendously aroused, and Bluff had an impetuous nature.
Meanwhile Frank was pushing onward with furious zeal.
He could see that he was gaining with every stroke. The occupant of the other canoe seemed to be paddling desperately, but he evidently did not know just how to get the best results from his labor. His craft wobbled considerably; that is, it headed from one side to the other.
As a result Frank was rapidly overcoming the distance that had in the start separated him from the unknown.
He anticipated that at the last the other would try and turn to the shore with the idea of making a hurried landing. In order to cut him off from such safety Frank kept in-shore, where he could interpose should the enemy try that game.
"I've got him!" was what he was saying to himself, over and over.
The thought gave the boy a fierce satisfaction. He now began to wonder just how he was going to recover the boat. Would the rascal dive overboard at the last, or put up a desperate fight to retain possession of his prize?
Frank held to the belief that it was one of the hoboes. That meant he would find himself opposed to a man accustomed to defying the law and ready to commit even a crime in order to retain his liberty.
"He's a coward, anyhow, or he wouldn't run that way," he assured himself, as he worked harder than ever at the paddle.
Now he was close upon the other. Too late the thief tried to head shoreward, and escape in that way. Frank saw his opportunity to cut him off; and again the race started straightaway over the moonlit lake.
Those on the shore at the camp could no longer see the rival canoes. The moonlight was deceptive; and, besides, the fiercely paddling twain had turned the point.
But a new light of a fire had dawned upon the vision of Frank, which he knew came from the camp of the Peters crowd; for the boys had, of course, told him about the arrival of these rough customers on the island.
"I declare, I believe it must be one of that lot, and not the tramp after all," he muttered, as he again cut the other off from heading ashore.
This put a new face on matters.
He no longer hesitated about coming to conclusions with the thief. If, after all, it was but a boy like himself, he could not meet him any too soon to satisfy his desires.
Observing the fellow's manner more closely now, he was not long in determining upon his identity.
"It's Pet Peters himself. And he's getting worried to know just what he's going to do to save himself and the stolen canoe, too. I'd better end this agony with a rush, and here goes!"
So saying, he now headed directly for the other craft, rushing forward with furious speed that gave the finishing touch to the alarm of the pursued one.
In vain had Pet tried to outwit him; he had been caught every time, and forced to keep in the open. Even when he attempted to hold his own straight ahead it was to see the distance cut down steadily.
Before now he had tried conclusions with Frank Langdon, nor was he hankering after a repetition of his previous experiences. The memory of sundry bruises had never entirely left him; and it looked as though the other might be more angry on this occasion than ever before.
"Hold up there, you thief! I've got you cornered!" called Frank, as he pushed still nearer.
Pet ceased paddling. After all it was just as well, for he had lost hope of evading this persistent pursuer in the race.
He clutched his spruce paddle fiercely in his hands. If it came to the worst he could perhaps use the same as a weapon of defense. It had failed him in its legitimate channels, but could he give the other one smart blow on the head with its edge, no doubt Frank must be put out of the running.
And Pet Peters had no scruples on the score of delicacy. He was accustomed to rough methods of carrying his point. A blow on the head usually concluded any argument in which he might be engaged.
"Keep back, you!" he yelled.
Frank saw that he was now standing rather unsteadily in the canoe. He smiled grimly, for he knew that the game was in his hands. Any fellow who is so foolish as to stand upright in so frail a vessel places himself in a position where he is apt to receive a sudden and unexpected bath.
Frank was still advancing in a line as though he calculated to come alongside the other boat. That was evidently just what the bully expected him to do, and to meet which anticipated emergency he was now, as he thought, fully prepared.
"Get out of that boat, and in a hurry, you!" cried Frank.
He was speaking more to hold the attention of Pet than because he expected the other to obey him.
"Keep back, I tell yuh, Langdon, er it'll be the worse for yuh!" bellowed the other, at the same time making several vicious sweeps through the air with his poised paddle, as if to emphasize his pugnacious intentions.
The act came very nearly being his undoing, for he staggered and had to even make a quick clutch at the gunwale of the canoe to keep his balance.
Frank saw his chance. He was by this time close enough to put his little scheme into practice. That canoe had to be recovered one way or another. If Pet refused to surrender his ill-gotten plunder peaceably, then it was high time other measures were brought into play.
With a sudden turn Frank headed his boat straight at the side of the other. He meant at the last instant to turn far enough to give but a slanting blow, not desiring to injure the second canoe by smashing in the delicate ribs.
Too late did Pet realize how completely he had placed himself in the power of his more expert adversary, who had handled canoes so long that he was perfectly at home in one.
"Hey, you, keep away!"
It was the despairing wail of a quitter. Even before the prow of Frank's craft was in collision with the side of his own, Pet knew that he was about to experience a tremendous shock against which he would be given no chance to prepare himself.
In his sudden terror his first act was to let fall the paddle which he had intended to use in knocking Frank out. Then he tried to get hold of both gunwales, so as to brace himself against the shock.
It was too late, however. A second more and he might have done something, but by that little space of time he lost.
Bang! came the stem of Frank's canoe against the second boat, which was tilted half way over under the impact. Pet Peters took a headlong plunge over the side and disappeared under the moonlit waters of the lake with a tremendous splash!
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The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or, Lively Adventures on Wildcat IslandChapter XI: Recovering a Stolen Boat
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