Chapter 29

A LOST "BULLDOG"

"How much do you know about this case?" asked Tommy of Frank, as the two stumbled over the uneven moraine.

"How much do I know about what?" asked Frank.

"Why, this case that your father talked with you about when he used the wireless; the case referred to in the code message."

"Why, I know that you boys are out here in search of the print of a man's right thumb!" laughed Frank.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I know a little more than that. I know that two men are soon to be tried for burglary, and that the discovery of the thumb marks is quite essential to a successful defense."

"Did your father tell you all that?"

"Oh, we talked quite a lot by wireless."

Tommy considered the situation for a moment and then said:

"I wish you'd tell me all you know about it."

In as few words as possible, Frank related the story practically as told to George and Sandy by Will.

"Does Bert know all about this?" asked Tommy when the recital was finished. "Did you talk the matter over with him?"

"I certainly did."

"I hope," Tommy mused, "that he wasn't forced to tell anything about the thumb marks when the man robbed him."

"I don't think he would do that," suggested Frank. "He would be apt to plead ignorance."

The boys came, about nine in the evening, to the little station of Katalla, which is just a mite of a town sitting perched high above the Gulf of Alaska. The first thing they did was to make inquiries at the water front regarding transportation to Cordova.

As they passed swiftly from point to point, consulting a half-breed here, an Esquimaux there, and an American trader at another point, they noticed that they were being followed. Finally Tommy drew back and waited until the man who seemed to be pursuing them came up.

"Are you looking for me?" he asked.

"I would like to speak with you," was the reply.

"Well, then, why didn't you come up like a man and say so?" demanded Tommy. "You needn't have skulked along in the dark!"

"Fact is," the man answered, "that I heard you making inquiries regarding the possibility of getting to Cordova tonight."

"Yes, that's where we want to go."

"Have you secured transportation yet?"

"We have not!" Tommy answered.

"Well, I was going to let you inquire at one more place," said the other, "and then tender you the use of my boat."

"Why were you going to wait?"

"Because I wanted you to exhaust your last chance so that I could get my own price for the service."

"You must be a Yankee!" laughed Tommy.

"Right!" was the reply. "I'm a Yankee direct from Boston. I don't have many opportunities of acquiring wealth out here, and I smelt real money as soon as I saw you boys come to town a couple of days ago."

"What kind of a boat have you?" asked Tommy.

"A swift little motor boat."

"Can you get us to Cordova and back by seven or eight in the morning?"

"I don't think I can do the job as soon as that, but I'll do the best I can! Why are you in such a hurry?"

"There's a boy sick at the camp!" was the short reply.

"How much are you going to charge for the use of your boat?" asked Frank. "We're willing to pay for fast service."

"I think a couple of hundred dollars will be about right," was the reply. "It's a little bit risky going out in the night."

Tommy was about to protest against the exorbitant charge, but Frank motioned him to remain silent.

"The price is satisfactory," he said. "When can you start?"

"In an hour," was the answer.

After promising to meet the boys at the floating dock in an hour's time, the owner of the motor boat took his departure, and the two lads dropped into a smoky and smelly restaurant for supper.

The place was foul with evil language as well as evil smells, and the boys did not remain long. Instead of sitting down at the table and ordering their meal, they bought such provisions as they could get and took their way to the water front. When they sat down to eat their rather unpalatable repast, they saw that a boy of about their own size and age was loitering not far away.

"I'll gamble you a five cent piece," Tommy whispered to Frank, "that that is a Boy Scout! What do you say?"

"You're on!" exclaimed Frank.

Tommy struck three times on the planking of the dock with his open hand. Instantly there came back to his ears the low snarling voice of a bulldog. Then footsteps advanced down the dock, and the boy soon stood close to the others.

"You're a Beaver?" he asked.

"And you're a Bulldog!" said Tommy.

The boys presented their hands, palm out, in the full salute of the Boy Scouts and then stood examining each other's faces.

"Where's the Bulldog Patrol located?" asked Tommy.

"Portland, Oregon," was the reply.

"Do you live here now?" asked Frank, who had already been introduced as a member of the Fox Patrol.

"I'm obliged to live here," was the answer, "because I can't get out of town. I wish I could get away!"

"You may go with us," offered Tommy.

"Where?" was the question.

"To Cordova tonight, and to a camp out on a glacier tomorrow."

"Tickled to death!" exclaimed the boy.

"You're welcome!" declared Tommy;

"Who're you going with?" was the next question.

"He didn't give us his name, but he said he owned a fast motor boat, and he said he'd get us there and back before noon tomorrow!"

"Jamison is the only man here who has a motor boat, but you want to look out for him. He's as crooked as a corkscrew!"

"That's the impression I received when he fixed his price."

"Well," the stranger said in a moment, "I've got a little baggage up the street and I'll go and get it."

He was gone perhaps half an hour, and when he returned the boys saw an anxious expression on his face.

"Are you sure that man Jamison is going out with you tonight?" he asked.

"He said he would," was the reply.

"He's up there loading in whiskey," the boy, who had given his name as Samuel White, continued, "and has surrounded himself with about as tough a bunch of crooks as there is in all Alaska."

"Perhaps he wants them to help run the boat," suggested Tommy.

"No, there's something crooked on foot!" declared Sam. "The fellows are whispering together in a bar-room up the street, and pounding the tables, and letting cut great shouts of laughter as if they had a good joke on some one."

"Do you know any of the men with Jamison?" asked Frank.

"One of them," the boy replied, "is a crooked mine agent, and one is a fellow who hangs around town without revealing any business whatever, but seems to have plenty of money."

While the boys talked, Jamison, accompanied by two men who seemed to be somewhat under the influence of liquor, came down to the dock.

After nodding familiarly to the lads, he gave a signal with a lantern which he carried in his hand, and in a short time a very capable looking motor boat came puffing out of the darkness.

"There you are, boys!" he said. "Jump in, and I'll have you up to Cordova in no time. I've got a good crew on board, and I may be able to get you back long before noon."

The boys did not exactly like the looks of the "good" crew, but they said nothing as they took their seats in the little trunk cabin and waited for the boat to get under motion.

When at last the motors began whirling and the rocking motion told the lads that they were out among the high waves, Jamison came in and seated himself by Tommy's side.

"Little bit bumpy tonight," he said, "but you'll soon get used to that. If you have the money ready, I'll collect fares now."

Frank took two hundred dollars in bank notes from a pocket and passed it over to the owner of the boat.

"A hundred apiece," Jamison said. "I was to have a hundred for each passenger. You owe me a hundred more."

"Don't pay any hundred for me," Sam White exclaimed, springing to his feet. "I'll jump overboard and swim back."

Frank laid a hand on the boy's arm and pushed him back into a seat.

"It's all right," he said. "I did agree to pay a hundred dollars a passenger. You're quite welcome to the ride at my expense."

As Frank spoke he took a roll of bank notes from another pocket and stripped off one of the denomination of one hundred dollars.

Jamison saw large denominations, some as high as five hundred dollars, in the roll, and his evil eyes glittered greedily.

When Frank put up the roll, the fellow's eyes followed it until it passed out of sight in the pocket. Other members of the crew had seen the money also, and Tommy was decidedly uncomfortable as he thought of the situation they were in.

Having received his pay, Jamison grew very friendly and confidential, and began pointing out the show places along the dim coast.

Presently Sam whispered cautiously in Tommy's ear:

"He is headed for the Barren islands, and not Cordova," he said.