Read Ebook: Radio Boys Loyalty; Or Bill Brown Listens In by Aaron S F Samuel Francis Whipple Wayne

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Ebook has 148 lines and 10148 words, and 3 pages

"But would they let him broadcast anything?"

"Gave them the slip, maybe."

"What'll we do?"

"You say it."

"Well, then--rounding east channel of inlet, eh? Tide going out. Likely they'll stick on the shoals. If only Dan were here now."

"What then?"

They went. It was but the work of a few minutes to gain the landing, hoist sail, cast off and reach down the bay, the wind abeam. Bill got into a snug place at the mast, Gus held the tiller, each boy firmly determined to do something that might call for the utmost daring and swift action.

Turning into the wind at the inlet, the boys went about first on the starboard tack and then luffed a half dozen times to get through into the broader water; but the sand bars were erratic. Gus knew two that were fixed from the set currents; other might change every few days. Bill crept to the rail and gazed ahead; there had been a moon, but it was cloudy.

Fortune favored them, however. At the moment that they were about to hit a narrow sand bar, the clouds parted and Bill gave a yell. Gus also saw the line of white and shoved over his tiller, missing the bar by the closest margin. In deep water again they swept across the inlet as the clouds darkened the moon and they were suddenly confronted by a splotch of white. They swerved once more just in time to avoid striking the stern of a small schooner fast on a bar, only her jib flapping in the breeze, not a light showing.

"You grapple and hold her, Bill. I'll board her and see what's what," said Gus, pistol in hand, stepping over the schooner's rail.

"I wonder if somebody is in there," whispered Gus.

"Must be. Looks funny. Let's call," Bill suggested.

"I guess we'd better beat it and mind our own business," said Gus, loudly. "Come on, we don't belong here at all."

Had the boys been suddenly confronted with a genie, at the behest of Aladdin's lamp, their surprise could not have been much greater than at the response from within the room. It was a girl's voice that reached them, and though very sweet and low it was full of trepidation.

"I guess, Miss, you're talking to the wrong party," said Bill.

"You're mistaking us for somebody else," asserted Gus.

"Oh, who are you, then?" came the voice.

"I sent it. I got to the wireless when they were working to get us off. But please tell me exactly who you are."

"We are Marshallton Tech boys, down here on vacation,--that's all."

"Jennings? He's one of our favorites--fine chap."

"And that was where that boy was kidnaped, too."

"The same. He never turned up." Bill nudged Gus.

"Two weeks ago I was at Guilford and saw the ball game with Marshallton Tech," said the voice.

"Hooray! Right out here with me is the pitcher who won that shut-out for us."

"No! Do you really mean it? And then it was you who hailed and came aboard just now, and the others have not returned? I can trust you, can't I?"

"Why not? We're really harmless. But tell us who are these fellows?"

"I do not know, except that they are scoundrels and thieves,--of that I am sure."

The door suddenly opened and a figure stood before the boys, something white, glistening and menacing in her hand. An arm was outstretched to turn a switch. With the flooding light Bill and Gus beheld a very pretty girl of about their own age, who smiled at them and hastily held the revolver behind her. Reassured, she calmly continued:

"My chum here is Gus Grier and I am Bill Brown."

"The great Doctor Waring, nerve specialist?"

"Nerves, yes. I believe people call him great sometimes. You see we have a summer home at Hawk's Bill, just below the inlet here, and we girls, my two sisters and some friends are there now. Father and Mother are coming down to-morrow. I'm fond of boating, and sometimes, just to be on the water, I come down and sleep in the yacht. To-night I did and I waked up to feel that we were adrift and sailing, with somebody on board--two, I think. While I was wondering what to do, one came and tried my door and called to me, I said something to him, you may believe! But he would hardly listen to me, though he couldn't force the door and I told him I'd shoot if he did. Presently we went aground and the men went back and started to work with the motor. I slipped out and got at the wireless, locking my door after me and locking the wireless room door. I don't know how they didn't hear me, though they were making an awful racket trying to hammer something. I sent several messages, then I listened and still heard them talking and slipped back. They couldn't get the engine to run--it can hardly be cranked, but it has a starter which they didn't understand. About half an hour ago they went off in the dory and I thought they were returning when you came."

"And you have no idea who they are?"

"Start that motor and get you back? You sure may--and it ought not to be much of a job."

"My father will liberally reward you."

"We don't want any reward, Miss Waring. Doing mechanical stunts in trying to rescue people is our specialty."

UNDER FIRE

"I have a hunch," put in Gus, "that those fellows may come back any minute, possibly with some means, or hoping to get this boat afloat. We don't want them to catch us off guard."

"Good. Let's look at that power plant," demanded Bill.

It was a matter of minutes only, although the time was lengthened by the boat thieves' having hammered the gearing that connected with the starter, trying to slide it along on its shaft key in order to permit the cranking. They had failed in some way, however, to manipulate the gas and spark.

The boys had slipped the gearing into place again and the adjustments had been made, when a call from the girl made the busy lads grab their weapons and get up on deck, Bill being almost as quick as Gus.

Not fifty yards away and plainly seen in the now unclouded moonlight, a skiff was approaching. The boys, lying flat on the deck and peering over the rail, and the girl, crouching in the companion-way, could see three persons in the dory. Gus again told Bill to hail.

"Ahoy, there! Back water and stay where you are! What do you want?"

The rhythmic beat of the oars continued, rapidly lessening the distance.

"Halt, or we'll shoot! If you don't want to get sunk and have your carcasses filled as full of holes as a pepper-box, you'll sheer off!"

This had its effect. The oars were held and pushed to check the motion. No word came in reply, but Gus plainly saw an object that resembled a gun barrel come from a vertical to a foreshortened position. This was sufficient for drastic action, though the boy was averse to compelling a tragedy. With careful aim he sent a load of shot just over the heads of the boatmen, then instantly fired another into the water at one side. Almost immediately a shot came in reply, the bullet glancing from the cabin roof.

Gus slipped in two more shells and coolly waited, knowing that there was only a remote possibility that the shots from the dory would do any great harm, but intending, if the rascals fired again, to give them a real taste of buckshot firing, at the bow of their boat first, to splinter and sink it gradually; then at the men if they persisted.

The dory turned about quickly. The oarsman was evidently in haste to get away. Then came a hail:

"Say, you! What you do in thata boat? That our boat! Get out, I say to you! We want to come aboard and go on away!"

The oarsman was nothing loath. Either he was not the bravest in the party, or else he had the keenest appreciation of the odds against an exposed position. In a very few minutes the dory was a mere gray wraith on the water, but there it hung. Evidently the rower was overruled by others less cautious, or of the certain conviction that at the distance the yacht was a better mark than a rowboat.

He was about to swing round and head back into the narrow channel free from sand bars, which he could discern by the rougher water, when bullets began to come from the dory. They were aimed at the wheel and whether sent low or not, the trajectory, even from a high-powered gun, would pull them down to the danger level. One struck the mast directly in front of him. One hit the deck and glanced singing. The music from another flattened bullet was stopped by the water beyond.

Gus wanted desperately to get behind something, for this firing might mean death or wounding at any moment. But he held on, hoping shortly to get out of range. Bill, at the rear hatch, called to Gus to set her and come below, and Gus called back that they'd be aground again in a minute if he did. Then a brave deed was done.

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