Part 19 (1/2)
”My chum here is Gus Grier and I am Bill Brown.”
”I shall be indebted to you forever,” the girl said graciously. ”You see I am in an awful fix. Those men deliberately stole our boat. This is my father's auxiliary yacht, the _X-Ray_. My father is Doctor Louis Waring, of----”
”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?”
”None whatever. I only know that the talk of the one that called to me sounded as though he were a foreigner, perhaps an Italian--about the other I couldn't say. They surely meant to steal this boat, and if they had not stuck here, I don't know whatever would have become of me. And now, may I ask of you to----?”
”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.”
CHAPTER XXVII
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.”
”I'll stand watch,” said the girl. ”The slightest intimation----”
”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 carca.s.ses 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 sh.e.l.ls 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: