Part 10 (1/2)

”I wonder,” ventured Jed Prentiss, after they had driven some distance along the road, ”whether you think your Spanish-looking party had anything to do with Ted Dunstan's being missing?”

Tom laughed good-naturedly, but made no reply, thinking that the easiest way of turning off the question.

”Say,” broke in Jed again after a while, ”I wish you could get me a job aboard the 'Meteor.'”

”What kind of a job?” inquired the young captain.

”Why, I'm generally handy aboard a boat. Been out on fis.h.i.+ng craft a good deal. The job I struck Mr. Dunstan for, some weeks ago, was that of steward. You see, I'm a pretty fair sea cook, too. But Mr. Dunstan said he didn't need a steward or a cook aboard. I wonder if he'd change his mind.”

”He might,” replied Tom.

”Do you think you'd like to have me aboard?”

”From what I've seen of you, Jed, I think I would,” replied Tom Halstead heartily. ”At any rate, I'll speak to Mr. Dunstan about you.”

”Will you, though?” cried Jed delightedly. ”Say, I'd give my head-no, but the hair off the top of my head-to go cruising about on the 'Meteor.' It must be a king's life.”

”It is,” Tom a.s.sented.

Then, for some time, the two boys were silent But at last Tom Halstead, after some intense thinking, burst out almost explosively:

”Machinery? Great Scott!”

”Er-eh?” queried Jed, looking at him in surprise.

”Oh, nothing,” returned the young skipper evasively. ”Just forget that you heard me say anything, will you?”

”Sure,” nodded Jed obligingly. Soon after, they drove into the quaint little old seaport, summer-resort town, Nantucket. Tom's glance alighted on a bicycle shop, still open. Thanking Jed heartily for the lift, Halstead hurried into the shop. He succeeded in renting a bicycle, agreeing that it should be returned in the morning. Then, after some inquiries as to the road, Tom set out, pedaling swiftly.

He got off the road once, but in the end found the Dunstan place all right. At the gateway to the grounds Halstead dismounted. For a few moments he stood looking up at the house, only a part of which was lighted.

”Machinery?” repeated the young skipper to himself, for the twentieth time. ”Machinery? Eh? Oh, but we want to know all about that, and, what's more, we've got to know. Machinery! It pieces in with some other facts that have come out to-day.”

Then mindful of the fact that the news he bore was, or should be, of great importance to the distracted master of the house beyond, Tom Halstead, instead of remounting, pushed his wheel along as he walked briskly up the driveway.

”Machinery!” he muttered once more under his breath. He could not rid himself of the magic of that word.

Yet it was a huge pity that the young motor boat captain could not have possessed sharp enough vision to see into the heart of a dense clump of lilac bushes that bordered the driveway. Had his vision been that keen he would have seen his very Spaniard crouched low in the clump.

That worthy saw the boy and watched him with baleful, gleaming eyes. It was a look that boded no good to the young skipper.

”You are too wise, young _gringo_, and, besides, you have struck me down,” growled Alvarez. ”But we shall take care of you. You shall do no more harm!”

CHAPTER VII-”THE QUICKEST WAY OF WALKING THE PLANK”

It was Tuesday when Ted Dunstan disappeared. Now, Sat.u.r.day had arrived.

On Monday the heir must appear, with his father, in the probate court, or the great fortune would be forever lost to the young man.