The on the March Part 11 (1/2)
”Then let me see Mr. Holmes.”
”There you go again, ma'am! Didn't I tell you on deck that there's no such party aboard, and that I never even heard of him? If you're satisfied now, we'll be glad to have you go ash.o.r.e, because I want to sail. I've got business down the coast.”
”I shall not go ash.o.r.e until I have found my girls,” said Eleanor. There were tears of baffled anger in her voice, and Bessie thrilled with indignant sympathy at the idea that she was within a few feet of her best friend without being able to let her know that she was there.
”Then you'll be put ash.o.r.e--gently, but firmly, as the books say,” said Jeff. ”You're dead right, ma'am, kidnappin' is a bad sort of business in this state, and I don't aim to give you a chance to say we carried you off with us against your will. Sail we will--and you'll stay behind. This is my boat, and I've got a right to put off anyone that is trespa.s.sin'.”
”You brute!” gasped Eleanor. ”Don't you dare to touch me!”
”Will you go of your own accord, then?”
”I suppose I must,” gasped Eleanor tearfully. ”But you shall pay for this, you scoundrel! You're tricking me in some fas.h.i.+on, but you can't deceive me, and you can't keep the truth quiet forever.”
Then there was the sound of retreating footsteps, and a few minutes later Bessie and Zara were released by Jeff, who was grinning as if it had been a great joke.
”Well, sis, we're off now!” he said. ”Come on! I don't want to be hard on you. Come out here in the pa.s.sageway, and you can have a look at the sh.o.r.e as we go off.”
He led them to the stern, and to the little cabin, in which was a porthole. Looking out, Bessie saw the beach indistinctly. The ruined tents were there, and several of the girls, in bathing suits. And, swimming slowly to the sh.o.r.e she saw a girl in a red cap, which, as she knew, belonged to Dolly. How she longed to be able to call to her! But Jeff was at her side, and she knew that the attempt would be useless, since he was watching her as if he had been a cat and she a mouse.
A bell clanged somewhere below them, and the next moment there was a rumbling sound as the machinery was started. At the same moment there came the grinding of the anchor chains as they were raised. But the yacht did not move! Even after the anchor was up there was no movement except the throbbing of the whole vessel as the engines raced in the hold! Jeff's face grew black, and he turned toward the pa.s.sage with a scowl.
”What's wrong here?” he shouted, going to the door. At the same moment, seizing her brief chance, Bessie gave a wild scream, and saw, to her delight, that those on sh.o.r.e had heard it. In a moment she was pulled roughly from the porthole, and Jeff, his face savage and all the kindness gone out of it, scowled down at her.
”Keep quiet, you little vixen!” he shouted. ”Here, come with me!”
At the foot of some steps that led up to the deck he left the two girls in the care of Larry, one of the two men she had seen the night before.
”Keep them quiet,” he commanded, as he sprang up the steps. ”What's wrong, Larry; do you know?”
”Something the matter with the propeller. Can't tell what,” said Larry.
And above, on the deck, there was a wild rus.h.i.+ng about now. Orders were shouted to the engineers below; hoa.r.s.e answers came back. The engines were stopped and started again. But still the yacht did not move. A grimy engineer came up and stood beside her.
”Propeller's fouled,” he said to Jeff. ”We'll have to send a man overboard to clear it.”
”How long will that take?” roared Jeff.