The Adventures of Rover Boys: 26 Illustrated Adventure Novels. Stratemeyer Edward

      CHAPTER XV

       WHAT THE LAME MAN KNEW

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      Dick was not aware that his brothers had been captured until some hours after the sailing of the schooner. He headed for a part of the river where several small craft were moving about, and was just about to climb up the spiling of one of the docks when a lighter hit him and knocked him senseless.

      "We've struck a boy!" shouted a man on the lighter, and then rushed forward with a boathook. As soon as he caught sight of Dick he fished the youth from the water and hurried ashore with him.

      The shock had not been a heavy one, but the lad was weak from swimming with his clothes on, and he lay like a log on the flooring of the dock. This alarmed the men from the lighter, and they hastily carried him to a nearby drug store and summoned a doctor. From the drug store he was removed to the hospital.

      When he was strong enough to go about his business he found it was night. Yet he lost no time in making his way to the docks, on a search for his brothers.

      The search was, of course, useless, and much depressed in spirits he found himself, at sunrise, on the waterfront, seated on the stringpiece of one of the long piers.

      "They must have either been captured or drowned," he mused dismally. "And the Peacock is gone, too. What shall I do next?"

      It was far from an easy question to answer, and he sat motionless for the best part of half an hour, reviewing the situation. Then he leaped up.

      "I must get the authorities to aid me," he thought. "I should have done this before."

      He walked along the docks until he came to a street leading to the nearest police station. He now realized that he was hungry, but resolved to postpone eating until he had put the authorities on the track of the evildoers.

      As he was turning a corner he almost ran into a colored man going in the opposite direction. The colored man stared at him, then let out a wild cry of delight.

      "Massah Dick, or is I dreamin'?"

      "Aleck, by all that's wonderful! Where did you come from?"

      "From de yacht, ob course, Massah Dick But — but — dis knocks dis niggah, suah! I dun fink yo' was on dat udder ship."

      "I was on it, but I escaped yesterday, while the schooner lay in the river yonder."

      "An' where am Tom and Sam, sah?"

      "That I don't know. They left the vessel with me, but we became separated in the water."

      "Perhaps da dun been cotched ag'in," and Pop's face took on a sober look.

      "That is what I am afraid of."

      "Didn't see nuffin ob 'em nowhere?"

      "No. I was hit by a lighter and knocked senseless."

      "Whar's dat dar Peacock?"

      "Gone, too."

      "Wot you' spects to do?"

      "I was going to inform the authorities. We must find Tom and Sam."

      "Dat's right, sah."

      "Where is the Swallow?"

      "Tied up jest below heah, sah, Dat dar Luke Peterson is a-sailin' ob her wid me."

      "Good. Perhaps he can help us in the search. He knows these waters well, so he told me."

      Together the pair made their way to the police station, where they told their stories to the officer in charge.

      An alarm was at once sent out, and the river police were set to work to learn what had become of the Peacock and her crew.

      But all this took time, and it was past noon when word came in that the schooner had been seen moving up Lake St. Clair on the afternoon of the day before.

      Then word was telegraphed to Port Huron to stop the craft, and on his own responsibility Dick offered a reward of one hundred dollars for the capture of ship and master.

      But all this came too late. Losing no time, Captain Langless had had his craft towed to a point fifteen miles beyond Port Huron, and had then let the tug go, and steered a course known only to those on board.

      The tug did not return to Port Huron until the next day, and its captain did not know how much the Peacock was wanted until twenty-four hours later. Thus the schooner obtained a free and clear start of thirty-six hours over those who were in pursuit.

      "We are stumped," groaned Dick, when word came buck from Port Huron that the Peacock had passed that point long before. "That schooner now has the whole of Lake Huron before her, and there is no telling where she will go. Perhaps the Baxters will land in Canada."

      "I don't think so," answered Luke Peterson. "American vessels coming in-shore are closely watched, you know, on account of the smuggling that is carried on."

      "Then the smugglers between the United States and Canada are still at work."

      "Indeed they are, more so than the average American has any idea of. I used to be in the customs service, and I know."

      "Where do you suppose Captain Langless will go to?"

      "Ah, that's a question, Rover. The lake is over two hundred miles long, and I've heard tell that there are over twenty-five hundred islands, large and small. That's a pretty good place for a ship to hide in, eh?"

      "And you reckon the Peacock will go into hiding?"

      "More than likely, while these Baxters carry out their little game that is, providing your brothers are on board and I fancy they are. I can tell ye, I fancy they are a tough crowd all around."

      "Well, one comfort, the Peacock won't get very far anywhere along shore without being spotted, for the police have sent the news to all principal places."

      "Well, that's a good plan. Now if we could only follow that schooner up — "

      "Will you go with me in a hunt? I will willingly pay you for your services."

      "I will. But we ought to have a steam tug instead of a yacht."

      "I