The Motor Boat Club at Nantucket: or, The Mystery of the Dunstan Heir. Hancock Harrie Irving
to aidin shielding the boy’s forward progress if heused care. Tom went down, almost flat, thencrept forward, moving swiftly, silently, betweenbushes.
At last he was near enough to be sure of hisman, trousers and all. It was the same manHalstead had seen on the train. The “pirate”was at this moment engaged in rolling a cigarette.
CHAPTER V – A JOKE ON THE ENEMY
The slight, swarthy stranger rolled hiscigarette up nicely, moistening the edgeof the paper, stuck the thing between hislips, lighted the tobacco and began to smoke inevident enjoyment.
“That’s my party, all right,” quivered Tom.“And now I’ve found him what on earth am Igoing to do with him?”
That was a new poser. Halstead had been sointent on identifying his suspect that, now herecognized him, he must figure out what wasto be done.
“If the fellow is all right he ought to haveno objections to going along with me and answeringquestions. If he won’t do that” – hereTom’s eyes began to flash – “I believe I’ll makehim. This is a business that calls for sternmeasures. This fellow belongs to the crowdthat must know all about Ted Dunstan’s disappearance.”
Yet, to look at him, one would hardly suspectthe swarthy man leaning against the pier railof being a conspirator. As he smoked he appearedto be wholly at peace with himself andwith the world. He did not seem to have a careon earth.
As he still crouched behind a bush, watchingthe nearby fellow in the dark, an impulse ofmischief came to Tom Halstead. He rememberedthat night prowling about the “Meteor”over at Wood’s Hole, and he remembered howBouncer had frightened this same man.
“Gr-r-r-r!” sounded Tom suddenly from behindthe bush. “Gr-r-r-r! Woof! Woof!”
It was a splendid imitation of the growl andbark of a bulldog. At the same instant Tommade a semi-spring through the bush.
The “pirate” uttered a wordless howl offright. He lurched, attempted to recover himselfand leap at the same instant, and —
Splash! There was another howl of terroras the man slipped over backward, then, head-first, struck the water at the side of the pier.
“Help! I drown!” came in a muffled voice, and a new note of terror sounded on the night.
Now drowning anyone was as far from TomHalstead’s mind as could be. With an upwardbound he sprinted out onto the pier, bendingunder the rail close to where the frightened onewas making huge rings on the water in hisstruggle to keep up.
In his efforts the fellow reached one of thepiles of the pier, hanging to it in mortal terror.
“Help, help, kind sir!” he pleaded hoarsely.“Not a stroke do I swim. Pull me out before Idrown.”
Throwing himself upon the pier, Tom bentdown with both hands.
“Here, catch hold,” he hailed. “You’re inno danger. I’ll pull you out all right.”
It was some moments before Tom could persuadehis “pirate” to let go that frantic clutchat the pile. But at length Halstead drew hisdripping suspect up onto the boards of thepier.
“Where is that terrible, that miser-r-rabledog!” panted the swarthy one, glaring abouthim.
“That’s all right,” Tom answered composedly.“There isn’t any dog.”
“But – but I heard him,” protested the other, still nervous, as he stared suspiciously aroundhim. “The wr-r-retched animal sprang for me.His teeth almost grazed my leg.”
Such was the power of imagination – a finetribute to Tom’s skill as a mimic.
“Aren’t you thinking of the other night, overat Wood’s Hole, when you tried to get aboardthe ‘Meteor’ to wreck the engine?”
Halstead shot this question out with disconcertingsuddenness. The young skipper lookedstraight, keenly, into the other’s eyes, standingso that he could prevent the stranger’s suddenbolt from the pier.
“I? What do you talk about?” demanded theforeigner, pretending astonishment.
“Oh, I know all about you,” nodded Tom.“You’re the party.”
“Be careful, boy! You insult me!” cried theother angrily.
“That’s all right, then,” Tom went on coolly.“Now maybe I’m going to insult you a littlemore. The trouble is, I need information, andyou’re the best one to give it to me. Where’sTed Dunstan?”
“I – I – you – ” stammered the foreigner.“What do I know about Ted Dunstan? No, no,no! You are wrong. I have not seen the boy – donot know him.”
“Yet you appear to know that he is a boy,”insisted Tom sternly. “Come, now, if you won’ttalk with me you’d better walk along with me, and we’ll find some one you’ll be more willingto answer.”
“How? I walk with you? Boy, do not be afool,” retorted the swarthy one angrily. “Ishall not walk with you. I do not like yourcompany.”
“I’m not sure that I like yours, either,” retortedthe boy. “But there are times when Icannot afford to be particular. Come, whyshould you object to walking along with me?All I propose is that we find the nearest constableand that you answer his questions. Theconstable will decide whether to hold you ornot.”
“Step aside,” commanded the swarthy manimperiously. Full of outraged dignity he attemptedto brush past the young skipper. ButTom Halstead, both firm and cool, now that hismind was made up, took a grip on the fellow’sleft arm.
“Take your hand off! Let me go!” screamedthe fellow, his eyes ablaze with passion. “Outof my way, idiot, and take yourself off!”
As the swarthy one struggled to free himselfTom only tightened his grip, much as the bullpup would have done.
“Don’t be disagreeable,” urged Tom.“Come, my request is a very proper one. I’monly asking you to go before one of the officersof the law. No honest man can really objectto that.”
“You – ” screamed the foreigner.
He shot his right hand suddenly into a jacketpocket. But Tom, watching every movementalertly, let go of the fellow’s left arm, makinga bound and seizing his right arm with bothstrong hands. There was a fierce struggle, butHalstead’s muscles had been toughened byexercise and by many days of hard work at a steeringwheel in rough weather. This slight manfrom another country was no match for theAmerican boy.
Down they went to the flooring of the pierwith a crash, but young Halstead was uppermost.In another twinkling he was bending theswarthy one’s right arm until that fellow wasready to sue for a truce.
Tom now held him helpless, kneeling on him.
“What were you trying to fish out of thatjacket pocket?” demanded the young motor boatcaptain, thrusting his own hand in. He drewout something and held it up briefly – a claspknife.
“A coward’s tool!” uttered Tom, his voiceringing scornfully. Then he threw the claspknife far out so that it splashed in the water.“Why don’t you cultivate a man’s muscle andfight like a man, instead of toting around thingslike that? Come, get up on your feet.”
Bounding up, Halstead yanked the other upright.In a twinkling the swarthy man brokefrom him, sprinting off the pier.
“You haven’t learned to run right, either,”grinned Halstead, dashing after the “pirate”and gripping a hand in his collar.
That brought them facing each other again.How the swarthy one glared at his resoluteyoung captor! They were about of a height, these two, and might have weighed about thesame. But the man possessed nowhere near thestrength of this sea-toughened boy.
“Now see here,” spoke Tom more pleasantly,“I’m doing what I think is right or I wouldn’tventure to be so rough. Walk along with mesensibly, until we can find out where a constablelives. I’ve got the best of you and you realizeI can do it again. But I don’t want to be roughwith you. It goes