The Rover Boys Megapack Read online

  “If she’s going outside of Staten Island, I reckon I can spot her before long,” he said.

  “It looks to me as if the clouds were blowing away,” said Tom. “If they do, the starlight will help us a good deal.”

  As the yacht tore along through the water, the two police officers listened with close attention to what the boys had to tell them.

  “If they are the men who robbed Rush & Wilder it will make a fine haul to capture them,” said Sergeant Brown.

  “We want to save Dora Stanhope as much as we want to catch those thieves,” returned Dick. “I wonder if her disappearance has been reported to the police?”

  “I can’t say. You see, Carter and I have been out all day looking for a pair of harbor thieves who stole some clothing from a pleasure yacht lying off the Staten Island shore.”

  “Did you see anything of your men?”

  “We saw them; but they got away in a rowboat. Where they have gone to is hard telling. But I don’t imagine the theft amounted to much—at least, it was nothing in comparison to the crimes you are trying to run down.”

  On and on went the Searchlight through the night, and slowly but surely the clouds in the heavens cleared away, letting the stars shine down once more on the silent waters.

  Suddenly Martin Harris gave a murmur of satisfaction. “There she is.”

  “The Flyaway!” came from several of the others.

  “Yes. Just as I thought; she is heading down the Staten Island shore straight for Sandy Hook.”

  “They are bound for Searock!” cried Dick suddenly. “Mr. Baxter mentioned the place just before they discovered that I was spying on them.”

  “That’s a good way down the New Jersey coast,” said Sergeant Brown. “Can this boat stand such a sail?”

  “Can she?” snorted Harris. “She’s strong enough to go to Europe if you want to make the trip.”

  “Thank you; when I go to Europe I’ll go in a steamer,” laughed the police officer. “I don’t think you’d do much in a heavy blow.”

  “The Searchlight would hold her own,” answered the old sailor confidently.

  The breeze was increasing, and they rounded the Narrows at a lively rate. The swell from the ocean now struck them, and the yacht occasionally dipped her nose a little deeper into it than was expected.

  “Here, I don’t want, to get wet!” cried Carter. “I’m no sailor, you know.”

  “You won’t get much,” laughed Harris. “This roll is just enough to be pleasant.”

  “Perhaps—to some people,” came from the policeman, who had never cared for the rolling deep and who was beginning to feel a trifle seasick. Fortunately for him, however, the sickness proved mild and of short duration.

  The Flyaway was now in plain sight but too far off to be spoken. She had every sail set to its fullest, and for the time being it seemed impossible for the Searchlight to gain upon her. Thus mile after mile was covered, until Sandy Hook lighthouse could be plainly seen but a short distance away.

  “We are out in the ocean now,” remarked Dick an hour later. “Gracious, when I left Cedarville I didn’t think that this was going to develop into such a long chase!”

  “Never mind how far we go, if only the chase proves a success,” answered Tom. “If we succeed in not only rescuing Dora, but also in bringing those thieves to justice, it will be a big feather in our caps.”

  “I’m glad the police are along,” came from Sam. “They must be well armed, and I don’t see how Arnold Baxter and the others will dare resist them.”

  “They will dare a good deal to keep out of prison, Sam,” remarked Dick. “They know well enough that if they are caught it may mean a long term for each of them.”

  On and on went the two yachts until Sandy Hook lighthouse was left in the distance. Once it began to cloud over as if there was a storm in sight, but soon the rising sun came out brightly over the rim of the ocean.

  When it came mealtime Sam prepared the repast, and all, even the officers of the law enjoyed what was served to them. “It gives one an appetite, this salt air,” was Sergeant Brown’s comment.

  Soon they were standing down the New Jersey coast, but so far out on the ocean that the shore line was little more than a dark streak on the horizon.

  “Are we gaining?” That was the question each asked, not once but a score of times. Martin Harris felt sure that they were; but if this was so, the advantage on the side of the Searchlight was but a slight one.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  SEARCHLIGHT AND LANTERN

  “One thing is in our favor,” remarked Dick, as the day wore away and the distance between the two yachts seemed undiminished. “Even if we don’t succeed in catching them before tonight we know where they are bound.”

  “Perhaps it might be as well to hang back!” burst in Tom. “If we remain in sight they won’t land as intended.”

  “The thing of it is, they may change their plans, especially if they think your brother overheard their talk,” put in the police sergeant. “My idea is, they’ll keep right on down the coast until the darkness hides them from us. Then they’ll try to sneak in some cove or river and abandon the boat.”

  “They’ll have a job taking Dora Stanhope along,” was Sam’s remark. “I don’t believe she’ll go another step willingly.”

  “As if she has gone willingly!” said Dick.

  “Well, I mean she’ll be more on her guard than she was, and they’ll have more of a job to make her go along.”

  Night settled down gradually and found every heart full of serious speculation. Dick was especially affected, for he had hoped to see Dora rescued hours before.

  “Goodness only knows where they will take her by morning!” he groaned. “I’d give almost anything to be at her side!”

  With the going down of the sun the wind died away and the sails of the Searchlight flapped idly to and fro.

  “Now it’s a waiting game,” announced Martin Harris. “If we can’t move neither can they.”

  “Just the same, the Flyaway is turning out to sea!” cried Tom. “Now what can that mean?”

  “That may be only a blind,” said Carter.

  “No, they are afraid of drifting on the sands,” answered the skipper of the Searchlight. “I reckon we’ll have to turn out, too,” and he changed the course of the yacht.

  Darkness found both boats far out on the Atlantic and almost out of sight of each other.

  “This is maddening!” cried Dick. “Can’t we row, or do something?”

  “Rowing wouldn’t count much, I’m afraid,” laughed Martin Harris. “But don’t fret. Unless I am mistaken, we’ll have a breeze before midnight.”

  “And they may be out of sight long before that time!”

  “That’s to be seen, lad. I’ll watch the thing closely, for I’m as anxious to catch ‘em as you are.”

  “I’d give a good deal for a small boat.”

  “So would I.”

  “I thought all yachts carried them.”

  “They do generally, but mine was stove in at a Catskill dock about a week ago and is being repaired.”

  “Here comes the wind!” shouted Sam, half an hour later, and when the Flyaway was almost out of sight. “Now, Harris, let us make the most of it.”

  “We will, and I hope there isn’t too much of it,” was the quick reply.

  Soon the breeze struck them, and, as it came from shore, it hit the Searchlight first and drove her fairly close to the other yacht. But before anything could be said or done, the other craft also moved; and then the chase began as before.

  “We’re getting all we want now,” announced Tom, as the wind grew heavier. “Just look how the yacht dips her nose into the brine!”

  “We’ll have to shorten sail before long,” said Martin Harris. “If we don’t, a sudden gust might make us los
e our stick.”

  “I’d like to see the Flyaway lose her mast!” cried Tom. “It would just serve the Baxters right if they went to the bottom.”

  “No, we don’t want to see that yacht harmed,” put in Dick quickly. “Remember, Dora is on board—and that stolen fortune, too.”

  Swiftly both yachts flew on their outward course, the ocean growing more tempestuous each minute. The police officers viewed the turn of affairs with alarm.

  “If it’s not safe, let us turn back,” whispered Carter.

  “Don’t get scared so soon,” replied Harris, who overheard the remark. “I’ve been’ in a worse blow than this, twice over.”

  The sails were reefed, and they continued on their course. The Flyaway was now but a shadow in the gloom, and presently even this died out.

  “The chase is over,” announced Harris with disgust. “Hang the luck anyhow!”

  “What do you, mean?” demanded Dick.

  “She’s out of sight, and there is no telling now how she will turn.”

  “But she can’t tack back in this wind.”

  “She can make a putty good try at it, lad.”

  “Not much of a one, lad. There is a little electric battery and light in the cabin, one that was used by a professor that I took out two years ago, when the yacht was built. He was interested in electricity and he made the light himself. I never used it, for I didn’t understand how it worked.”

  “Let us look at the light; perhaps we can do something with it,” said Dick.

  “That’s the talk,” came from Tom. “Anything is better than holding your hands and doing nothing.”

  Martin Harris was willing, and led the way into the cabin. Battery and light were stored away in a couple of soap boxes, and the boys brought them out and set them on the cabin table.

  “I think I can fix these up,” said Dick, after a long examination. “The batteries are not in very good shape, but I think they will do. They are meant to work on the same plan as these new electric lights for bicycles, only they are, I reckon, more powerful.”

  “Well, do what you please with the machine,” said Martin Harris. “In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do with a lantern and a tin reflector. Sometimes you can see a white sail putty good with a tin reflector.”

  He hurried to the deck again, and Sam, who was not much interested in electricity, followed him. One of the best of the yacht’s lanterns was polished up to the last degree, and they also polished the metal reflector until it shone like a newly coined silver piece.

  “That’s a good light!” cried Sam, when it was lit up. “Where will you place it?”

  “Up at the top of the mast,” answered the old sailor. “I’ll show you.”

  It took some time to adjust the lantern just right, but this accomplished they found that they could see for a distance of a hundred yards or more.

  “I see the sail!” announced Harris. “Don’t you—just over our port bow?”

  “I see it,” answered Sergeant Brown. “Not very far off either.”

  Without delay the course of the Searchlight was changed so that she was headed directly for the Flyaway.

  “Keep off!” was the cry out of the darkness. “Keep off, or it will be the worse for you!”

  “You may as well give up,” shouted back the police sergeant. “You are bound to be caught sooner or later.”

  “We don’t think go. If it comes to the worst, remember, we can do a heap of fighting.”

  “We can fight too,” was the grim response.

  “Dora! Dora! Are you safe?” shouted Sam, with all the strength of his youthful lungs.

  “Save me!” came back the cry. “Don’t let them carry me further away.”

  “We’ll do our best, don’t fear.”

  Dora wanted to say more, but was prevented from doing so by Mumps, who again hurried her below.

  “You must lock her up,” he said to Mrs. Goss, and once more the unhappy girl found herself a prisoner in the cabin.

  She had hoped for much during the chase along shore, but now her heart sank like a lump of lead and she burst into tears.

  “No use of crying,” said Mrs. Goss. “It won’t help you a bit.”

  “I want to be free!” sobbed Dora. “Where will they take me?”

  “Never mind; you just be quiet and wait.”

  “But you are running directly out into the ocean!”

  “What of that?”

  “I don’t wish to go.”

  “You’ll have to take what comes, as I told you before.”

  “Mrs. Goss, have you no pity for me?”

  “If I did have it wouldn’t do you any good, Miss Dora. I’ve got to do as the men folks want me to do. If I don’t they’ll make—”

  The woman did not finish what she was saying. A loud report rang out on deck, followed by the distant crash of glass. Then came a yell, followed by another report and more crashing of glassware.

  “What can that mean?” burst out Dora, but instead of answering her, Mrs. Goss bounced out of the cabin, locking the door after her, and hurried to the deck.

  CHAPTER XXV

  A SHOT FROM THE DARKNESS

  The shots which had reached Dora’s ears had come from a gun in the hands of Arnold Baxter.

  The man had been enraged at the sight of the lantern on the mast of the Searchlight, and, taking careful aim, had sent a charge of shot into the affair, smashing globe, reflector, and tin cup, and scattering the oil in all directions.

  “Hurrah, I struck it!” shouted Arnold Baxter gleefully. “Now they won’t see us quite so plainly.”

  “Knock out the other lantern, pop,” put in Dan Baxter, and the parent turned in the second barrel of the shotgun with equal success.

  For an instant the deck of the Searchlight seemed to be in darkness. Sam felt a bit of hot glass strike him on the cheek and raised his hand to brush it off. Then he felt something warm on the back of his leg. Looking down he saw to his horror that some of the oil from the lantern had fallen on him and that it was ablaze!

  “Help! Help!” he shrieked. “I’m burning up!”

  His cry alarmed everybody, and all, even Dick and Tom, came rushing to his aid. But Sergeant Brown was first, and he promptly threw the boy down flat and, whipping off his coat, began to beat out the flames.

  Another shot now rang out, aimed at a third lantern, but the light was not struck. By this time Martin Harris made the discovery that the mainsail was on fire in two places, while the jib was also suffering.

  “This is getting hot!” he cried, when Carter opened up fire at random, determined to do what he could. A yell and a groan followed, and then all became quiet, and firing on both sides was over.

  Fortunately for Sam, the flames upon his person were quickly extinguished, and all the lad really suffered was the ruin of his trousers and an ugly blister on the calf of his leg. But he was badly scared, and when it was over he had almost to be carried to the cabin.

  In the meantime Martin Harris procured several pails of water and a long-handled swab and with these did what he could to extinguish the fire on the sails. Several of the others joined in, and inside of ten minutes all danger of a conflagration was past.

  “That’s the worst yet!” growled the old sailor, as he surveyed the mainsail, which had two holes in it each is large as a barrel. “I’d like to wring the neck of the fellow as did it, yes I would,” and he shook his head determinedly.

  “That’s the end of that light,” said Sergeant Brown. “What are you going to do next?”

  “I think I can get that searchlight to work,” put in Dick. “But will it be of any use? They may start to shooting again.”

  “We’ve got to have some kind of a light, even if it’s only a tallow candle,” grumbled Harris.

  “If we haven’t got a light som
e coastwise steamer may run us down.”

  He set to work to rig up a temporary light, and in the meantime Dick returned to the cabin to experiment with the electric light. He found Sam on the couch, bathing his leg with oil to take away the sting of the bum.

  “How is it, Sam—hurt much?”

  “I suppose it might be worse,” was the younger brother’s reply. “I wonder who fired that shot?”

  “One of the Baxters, more than likely. They are a cold-blooded pair.”

  “One or more of us might have been killed if we had been directly behind the lights.”

  “That is true. I don’t suppose Arnold Baxter would care much if we were. He was father’s enemy, you must remember, and he said he hated all of us.”

  Sam resumed his bathing and Dick turned to the cabin table, upon which the battery and other portions of the searchlight rested.

  Dick had always been greatly interested in electricity and therefore the parts of the battery before him were not hard for him to understand.

  But there was one trouble with the battery which did not reach his eye as he turned it around and started it up. That was that a portion of the insulation of a main wire was worn off.

  As he turned on the current there was a flash and the light blazed up almost as bright as day.

  “That’s fine!” cried Sam. “We’ll be able to see the Flyaway a long distance off now.”

  “Well, I only hope when we put this up it won’t be knocked out like the other lights were.”

  “Of course we’ll have to run that risk.”

  In a minute more Dick started to carry the searchlight to the deck.

  He had turned off the light proper, consequently the way to the companionway was rather dark.

  He had almost reached the top of the steps when Sam heard a scream, saw a flash of fire, and then Dick came tumbling to the cabin floor in a heap, with the battery and light beside him.

  “My gracious, he’s been shocked!” burst out the youngest Rover; and, forgetting all about his burn, ran to his brother’s assistance.

  “What’s that noise?” came from the deck.