CHAPTER XXVI.

LOOKING FOR THEIR CHUM.

We left Harry Ware, Percy Simmons and the three customs inspectors sadly baffled on the dock of the Piquetville Yacht Club. Their search for the _River Swallow_, it will be recalled, had revealed nothing of the craft. Several inquiries made in the vicinity had met with the same disheartening results.

Sick at heart and worried more than they cared to confess, Harry and Percy listened to the consultation going on between the three experienced servants of Uncle Sam’s revenue service.

“If that fellow La Rue is on board, there is no telling what may have happened,” said Jennings. “He is a desperate man, as we have good cause to know.”

“But he is a coward at heart,” struck in Adams. “Remember how he showed the white feather in that affair of the Chinese smuggling three years ago?”

“Yes, he secured immunity from punishment by turning state’s evidence on his accomplices,” rejoined Jennings. “It was too bad he was allowed to go. There’ll always be plenty of work for us as long as he is at large.”

“It’s odd, the way he’s managed to slip through the toils so many times,” commented Prescott, the third customs man. “Why, the government has had its hands upon him half a dozen times, and yet he has always managed to get away in some mysterious manner.”

“There’s one member of the bunch, though, that I’d rather get than all the rest,” declared Jennings.

“Who is that?”

“Rawson.”

“The captain of that night-running motor boat?” inquired Prescott, who had been but recently transferred to the northern border after commendable work in the southwest.

“That’s the fellow. I see you’ve heard of that boat.”

“Who hasn’t? Even these young men encountered her on several occasions. She has been seen in the vicinity of Dexter Island. I assume that Malvin, who was in the employ of Mr. Stetson, received consignments of gems to be smuggled later.”

“That appears certain. But did you say Stetson was the name of the owner of the island?” inquired Prescott.

“Yes, Stetson, the big railroad man. It’s his son Ralph that is on board the _River Swallow_ in the power of those men.”

“The same Ralph Stetson that was mixed up in that affair of the arms and ammunition, smuggled across the Mexican border by the underground river?”

“The same fellow,” broke in Harry.

“Then depend upon it, young men, that your chum will be able to take care of himself,” assured Prescott. “I heard full details of that affair, and the way in which he and his friend Jack Merrill acquitted themselves, showed that they were made of no ordinary stuff. I’d back that boy against a dozen La Rues any time.”

“The way in which they have all handled this affair so far proves that they are a bunch of uncommonly smart lads,” said Jennings. “If it hadn’t been for a slip-up, we might have had La Rue in our hands by this time.”

Agitated though they were, Harry and Percy could hardly conceal a smile at this ingenious way of putting the case. Had it not been for Jennings’ stupidity in arresting them—for that is practically what he had done—the customs authorities might have reached the _River Swallow_ in plenty of time to apprehend the rascals on board and save Ralph from being carried off. For that he had gone of his own free will never entered the chums’ heads for an instant. They knew Ralph too well to think that he would desert them in such a way, unless he had been literally abducted.

It was this fact that worried them. It pointed inevitably to one conclusion: Ralph had been overpowered by the men on board the craft, and either injured or made captive, while they worked out whatever schemes they had in mind.

“Oh! if only one of us had stayed on board, it would have made the odds less against good old Ralph,” sighed Harry.

But it was too late to indulge in regrets. The harm was done now. Somewhere on the river the _River Swallow_ was speeding along with their chum on board her. They wondered when, and under what circumstances, they would hear from him again, for that they would join him before long they had no doubt.

Great drops of rain began to fall. A puff of warm wind blew from off the river into their faces.

“Here she comes,” declared Jennings, as a flash split the sky. “Boys, we’d better get to shelter.”

“Can’t we do anything more to-night?” asked Harry anxiously.

“I’m afraid not, my boy. I know just how you feel about your chum, but it would be worse than looking for a needle in a haystack to go chasing after that boat to-night.”

“What do you recommend doing, then?” asked Harry.

“I would suggest that you find quarters in a good hotel. Have a sound sleep, and early in the morning we will join you and the hunt will begin in earnest. One other thing,” as he noticed their troubled faces, “don’t worry about that fellow La Rue. He is a big bluff, an arrant coward. His bark is a lot worse than his bite. He wouldn’t dare try any violence. He’s a mixture of knave and craven, with the former predominating.”

How true this description of La Rue was we know from his behavior during the storm, which shortly broke in all its fury. While Ralph was battling with the elements, his chums were snugly in bed at the Piquetville House. Despite their anxieties, they were too worn out not to fall into a sound sleep, which endured till a loud knocking at their door, almost as soon as it was light, informed them that the customs men were below.

They lost no time in dressing, and soon joined the others. They all ate a hearty breakfast together, and then set out for the dock. It was a glorious morning. All trace of the storm had vanished, leaving the air clear and cool.

At the Yacht Club dock lay the _River Swallow’s_ tender. A few minutes’ delay occurred while the little craft was stocked up with extra gasoline, for they knew that they might be off on a long chase. But at last everything was ready. Harry took the wheel. Percy Simmons looked after the engine. The three customs men sat at their ease in the stern seat.

“Which way?” asked Harry, as they chugged out into the stream.

“Down the river,” was the reply of Jennings. “We’ll comb the islands first.”

“Let her out,” ordered Harry to Percy Simmons, as they got clear of the dock.

The engine gave a sputter and a roar, and the chase after their missing chum was on.