Part 9

Benito went around the mainmast and made a hasty inspection. When he returned he was thoroughly out of patience, and the waiting party strongly suspected that a secret fear was mostly responsible for it.

“Look here,” he growled. “You cut this stuff out and turn in. I’d like to know what your game is, scaring us like this? Do you think it’s funny?”

“It’s no game,” the bandit protested. “Anyway, it’s mostly your fault. If you and Frank hadn’t been talking so much about the ghosts that you say hang around all wrecked ships, I wouldn’t have felt the way I did. I tell you I saw something, and I’m leaving this beastly old hole in the morning.”

“You’ll feel different in the morning,” put in Frank. “What you need is a good sleep. Come on down and turn in.”

The men were just turning to go down when the old lady appeared at the companionway opening. She was not looking at the men but beyond them, pointing toward the deckhouse behind which the boys and the captain were hiding.

“Well, old lady,” challenged the leader, gruffly. “What are you looking at?”

“I just saw a head over the top of that deckhouse,” the woman said, sharply.

The captain groaned aloud. He had been so interested in the proceedings that he had raised himself up higher than he had intended, and the top of his captain’s hat had protruded over the edge of the deckhouse. The old lady had seen it against the faint light of the sky.

“What!” shouted Benito, whirling around.

Don and Jim held their breath, but the captain saw that the time for action had come. Slapping them sharply with either hand on the arms he leaped around the deckhouse.

“Up and at ’em, mates,” he roared. “Give ’em all you’ve got!”

Alone, he charged across the deck at the three men, and the boys lost a precious second in gathering their wits. But when they did awaken to the situation in hand they ran around the shelter and raced after the captain. The three outlaws, seeing one man, had intended to stand their ground, but when they saw the two boys loom up out of the darkness they sprang into action in their turn.

“Down the hatch!” roared the leader. The old lady, with surprising agility for one so old, had gotten out of the way and disappeared from sight. Marcy hurtled through the opening and jumped into the hold. Frank followed and Benito was halfway through when the aroused captain caught him by the coat tail.

“Not so fast, my friend!” panted the captain. “I have a little business with you!”

For a brief second Benito was in a bad fix, but his companions below seized his legs and pulled hard. The tail of his coat ripped off, the captain staggered back, and Benito thudded to the floor of the hold. Before Jim, who was foremost, could reach the companionway, the door was slid shut and a bolt slipped into place.

“Well, I sure spoiled things that time, didn’t I?” grumbled the captain, as he scrambled to his feet.

Jim was pushing fruitlessly at the slide but the captain pushed him aside. “No use in doing that,” commented the captain. “Hunt up a good-sized piece of timber and we’ll smash the hatch in.”

They located a spar that had at one time, probably during the wreck, fallen to the deck, and with this they savagely assaulted the sliding door. There was room for all three of them to get in place on this battering ram and they started at several paces from the door and ran at it, picking up speed as they approached it. The ram, guided by their arms, smote the door a thundering crack, and it shook and creaked.

“That won’t last long,” gasped the captain. “At it again.”

They rammed it again and the door cracked from end to end. On the third attack it gave way with the sound of splintering wood, and the spar went through with a rush. With his aroused strength the old captain pulled the wood away from the frame.

“Now to clean these pirates out!” cried the captain, thrusting one foot over the broken frame.

But Don pulled him back. “What is that, captain?”

Beside the schooner the sound of an engine reached them. With one accord they raced to the starboard rail and looked over. Just as they did so the black cruiser drew away from the side of the wreck and made for the open sea. Frank standing at the stern, waved them a derisive farewell.

“So long, boys,” the little man hailed. “Say goodbye to the rats for us. We didn’t have time!”

“All the rats there was is on that boat!” rumbled the captain. “Slipped through our fingers again, by golly! Now, how in thunder did they get on that cruiser?”

“Search me,” shrugged Don. “There must be an outlet somewhere.”

Jim leaned over the side of the wreck. “Why, sure, there it is. The whole side of this boat is one big hole. While we were battering the door down they just walked out the hole and got aboard their boat.”

“That’s about it,” agreed the captain, looking over the side. “They had that opening in case they were ever bottled up in the place. Well, no use crying over things as they stand, but I am sorry I’m such a blundering windjammer.”

“Oh, never mind that,” said Don, hastily. “All I hope is that they didn’t take Terry with them, provided they ever had him. Let’s take a look through this place.”

They descended into the wreck and readily found their way into the room lately occupied by the men. It was evident that they had left in a hurry, for a pack of cards was scattered over the table and an oil lamp burned in a bracket. A fire burned in an iron stove in the galley near the bunk room, and a few articles of clothing were hanging on a line near the stove. In a smaller room three bunks were ready for occupancy, with the covers turned back, and in a somewhat better room, nearby, evidently occupied by the old lady, a comb and brush stood on a rough box. There was no sign of any stolen articles anywhere, and they concluded that any such things were stored on the cruiser.

“Now, we’ll see how those boys got out,” announced the captain. Guided by his flashlight they went back to the main hold and walked in between the timbers. Before they had gone very far they found water on the floor of the bunk room and then they arrived at the opening itself. It was a great, gaping hole which the storm had beaten in the side of the ship, and because the hull was already resting on the bottom of the ocean it had not done any great damage. The hole was big enough to permit the men to pass out in safety to their cruiser, and a heavy plank had been placed from the floor to the boat. Don stepped forward but the captain drew him back.

“No use in going any further,” he cautioned. “We don’t know where this floor ends and you might suddenly fall right in.” He flashed the light all around on the timbers, and the ray of light showed them to be covered with moss and green scum. “This craft has been under water during every good storm,” the captain commented. “They wouldn’t dare to use it during the stormy season, because they might be caught like rats in a trap if the sea came up. Maybe they just stumbled across it, or maybe they have been using it right along. I’d say that they had been doing that, judging by the way the blankets are on the bunks.”

“What are we going to do now?” inquired Jim. “If Terry was aboard they have taken him with them. I guess there is no use in looking further.”

But Captain Blow shook his head. “We’ve got some more investigating to do,” he announced. “Don’t forget that ghost. You know, we thought at first that those fellows had rigged that thing for our benefit, but it must have been rigged for their benefit. It looked mighty spooky the way it sank down in that deck, but there is some every day explanation to it, and we’ve got to find out what it was.”

“But we’ve been over the whole ship,” protested Don.

The captain shook his head. “No, we haven’t. There is quite some room up in the bow, and it doesn’t connect with this section of the ship. That ghost, or whatever it was, is up in the bow, and we want to find it right away. If we don’t it may run off with our dinghy and then we’ll be marooned for fair. Jim, step in the galley and get that axe by the stove, will you?”

Jim procured the axe and joined the other two in the hold. Captain Blow led the way up the companionway ladder, and after making sure that the dinghy was still tied to the after rail, led the way forward.

“Now we’ll find out whether the ghost belongs to this ship, or the ship belongs to this ghost,” he said.

18. The Ghost of the “Alaskan”

The stretch from the forward to the center mast was one waste of wreckage and the captain and the boys picked their way with care. At the time of the wreck and since then the waves had beaten that portion of the old schooner into a mass of tangled wood and rope, with hideous clusters of seaweed flapping over the rail. The captain played his flashlight over the planks and they arrived safely.

“Now,” said Captain Blow. “It was right about here that that spook was performin’. Let’s look this place over.”

He flashed the light all around and up the mast. What he found there seemed to interest him, for he stepped forward and looked more closely. Then he grunted.

“Look,” he said. “Here is a wire, running from this mast. Where’s it go to, I wonder?”

The wire was just above the level of his head and he followed its course, to find that it ran from the forward mast to the center. It had evidently been hastily hung there, for it was simply twisted around the shattered poles. It passed directly over the forward hatch, which was flush with the deck, and that seemed to give the captain an idea.

“We’ll heave up that hatch,” he announced.

Don tugged at the hatch, his fingers curled under the overhang, but it refused to come up.

“Locked tight, captain,” Don said.

Captain Blow tried but was no more successful than Don had been. “We’ll have to smash it open, then,” he said. “Pass over that axe, Jim.”

Jim handed the captain the axe, and the latter, heaving it high above his head, sent it crashing down into the boards of the hatch. The crash sounded startlingly loud out there in the silence of the sea, but the captain paid no attention. Once more he raised the axe and sent it flashing down, and this time it broke through the wood. The captain began to chop around the hole and soon scattered the wood right and left.

“That’s finished,” he said, laying the axe aside. “Now we’ll look this ship over in earnest.”

He turned the beam of the light down and they saw a short flight of black wooden steps running down to the forward hold. The captain hung his feet over the edge and began to descend. Jim followed and Don came last.

They made the hold in safety and paused to listen. The ship was silent except for the gentle lapping of the waves, and the captain turned the light on all sides of the hold. It had evidently once been a storage room for the schooner, for closets and chests were built into the hull and shelves ran to the roof that the deck formed. There was one bunk well forward and the light stopped there. They looked closely and at length Don spoke.

“Doesn’t that look like some one to you, captain?”

Before the old sailor could reply a blanket was tossed aside on the bunk and a man sprang up. He was tall and thin, with unnaturally bright eyes, and the captain roared recognition.

“Why, Timmy Tompkins! What the devil are you doing here?”

The missing lighthouse keeper came eagerly forward. “I thought it was you, Jerry Blow, but I wasn’t takin’ chance. I was lying down on the bunk in case it was one of them other swabs, though I couldn’t understand what all the noise was about. How’d you get here?”

“It’s a long story,” answered the captain. “No use in talking about it here. Suppose we go into the room that gang was using and talk it all over?”

They climbed out of the hold and made their way back to the after compartment of the schooner. There in the room where the gang had been they settled down to talk, after the boys had been introduced to the keeper. As soon as he learned that Terry was a friend of theirs the keeper had news for them.

“They shipped your friend up the river in a barge,” he told them. “They ain’t going to hurt him, just going to dump him ashore when they get way out in the woods and let him walk home, that’s all. I heard them talking about it and this morning I heard the young fellow go aboard. He put up a dandy fight when he first came aboard but there was too many against him.”

The boys were relieved to find that they were on the right track and were anxious to start in pursuit at once, but both the captain and the keeper were against it.

“No use,” decided the captain. “We don’t know the river, and we might run aground. In the morning we’ll start early and run down on them. It won’t take your sloop long to run down a slow barge, and we’ll sure get ’em. They don’t know we’re coming and we’ll pounce on ’em sudden like. Eh, Timmy?”

“Sure thing,” agreed the keeper. “I’ll show you the mouth of the river when we go back.”

“Sure,” nodded the captain, lighting his pipe. “Timothy, do you know anything about a certain ghost that was playing around tonight?”

The lighthouse keeper’s eyes twinkled. “Well,” he drawled. “I shouldn’t wonder if I didn’t. I was the ghost, myself. But maybe I’d better tell you everything, from the beginning.”

“Maybe you had,” nodded the captain. “Spread your canvas, son.”

“You know that you and me had agreed on that red lamp signal,” began Timothy, “and on the night of the storm I thought likely I might have to use it. I was up all night, watchin’ the light, as I mostly always do when there is a storm, anyway, and after awhile, along in the morning, I see a long black cruiser run up to the stone dock and ride the storm out there. Thinking that it just meant to stay there until the storm went down I paid no attention to it, but the next day, after the storm was over, it was still there, though nary a sign of life did I see on it. The door was closed and there was no movement on it, although I watched it pretty close all day. Late in the afternoon, when my curiosity got to fever heat, I went down and hailed ’em, but not a peep out of them. I thought there was something funny about it, but there wasn’t nothing I could do about it.

“Along about nightfall I got uneasy, wonderin’ if somebody wasn’t watchin’ the lighthouse and me, much of me as they could see, and so I thought I’d light the lamp and hang it up, so you could run over and keep me company. But I felt kind o’ foolish about it, especially as you always josh me about being scared, anyway, so I let it go for awhile. I kept looking out at the cruiser, and there wasn’t a light to be seen on it; either they didn’t have any or the shades was pulled down tight. After a time I got over my bashfulness as far as you were concerned, Jerry Blow, and I lighted the lamp and went up the steps to put it on the sill. I had just placed it there when I thought I heard someone open the downstairs door and come into the lighthouse.

“It come to me then that if those fellows wanted to get into the lighthouse they must have seen me going up the stairs. You know what I mean, every time I came to a window in the shaft the red lantern shined out and I guess they must have seen it. So I hustled down the stairs, thinking that even if somebody hadn’t come in, it was high time I locked the door. I very seldom do that, you know, and I thought it was high time.

“But when I got down there I found the door open, though there wasn’t anyone in the center room. I knew I hadn’t left the door open myself, and I was suspicious, so I went and closed it, looking all around while I did so. Thinks I, maybe I had better look in the supply room and I opened the door. By mighty whales! what a start I got! There was two of ’em, that man Benito and the little fellow, examining one of the government service telescopes, a small one. I’d heard about them marine bandits and I knew these fellows was them.

“I guess they hadn’t expected to see me so soon and they looked mighty startled, too; though not for long. I tried to shut the door and hold ’em in, but they rushed it open and come for me. Remembering the telephone, I ran to that and got the receiver down, but it was too late to say anything. They caught ahold of me, tied me up, and lugged me down to their boat.

“I judged that they hadn’t intended to do anything like that at first, just thought they could steal a few things while I was up there in the tower and get away. But as long as I had busted up their party they decided that they had to take me with them, so they loaded me on that cruiser and started off. But we didn’t go far just then. They was expecting some sort of a visit from a fellow named Marcy, so they just run around a point and waited there. Kept me trussed up and stole the telescope.

“Near as I can judge you and these boys arrived soon after and that boy Terry somehow got out to their boat, the cruiser, and was on it when they started up and ran down the coast to this wreck. He was caught out there in the hold by Marcy, and dragged in here. They put him in a cell and then turned him over to the barge captain first thing in the morning, with orders to drop him off a hundred miles or so from here. I wasn’t bothered much, in fact, those fellows didn’t know what to do with me, so today they put me in the forward hold and locked me in.

“I worked around in there and finally managed to open that forward hatch and I got out. I didn’t know how to run their cruiser and I couldn’t swim to shore, so I decided to play ghost. All the time I was in the hold I could hear those fellows talking, and they finally got talking about ghosts, in such a way that I knew they were pretty superstitious. Thinks I to myself, maybe I can scare ’em off of the wreck and in the morning make a raft and get to shore, so I went back into the hold and found a piece of wire, a string, and some white cloth in an old locker. I stretched the wire across the two masts, hung a loop over the top of the cloth, which looked to be somebody’s nightgown, and rigged up the string. From down there in the hold I sent it up and tried it out, making it go backward and forward. Just then this Marcy comes up on deck and gosh didn’t he holler! Soon’s he dived down the companionway I just let the sheet drop down through the hatch, closed and bolted it and waited developments. Next thing I knew there was a terrible poundin’ and running, and playing safe, I lay down on the bunk until I was sure it was friends that was coming down the forward hatch. When I heard Don’s voice, ’course I didn’t know it, but I was sure it wasn’t one of the gang, and I came forward to see you.”

“Well,” said Jim, when the keeper stopped. “Your ghost gave us a scare, too. We couldn’t make it out at all, especially when it seemed to drop right through the deck.”

“Yes, you’re quite a spook, Timmy,” said the captain. He went on to relate the story in full to the keeper and then got up. “Well, let’s be getting back. We’ll have to pull up anchor and run Tim right back to the lighthouse, get a little sleep, and light out first thing in the morning after Terry.”

They left the schooner, after making sure that there was nothing of importance on her, and piled into the dinghy. This time Jim and Don insisted upon taking turns at rowing back and the captain allowed them, guiding them so as to keep in near the shore. Timothy pointed out the mouth of the river which he felt sure was the one up which the barge had gone. In a short time they were back on the _Lassie_ and the sloop was speedily gotten under way and headed back toward the lighthouse.

It was a long voyage, and pushed at top speed, and it was four o’clock in the morning when they got back to the lighthouse. Timothy and the captain ordered the boys to their bunks soon after starting, the keeper explaining that he could sleep during the day, the captain insisting that they would have a hard day before them. He promised to call them if anything unusual came up, but nothing did, so the boys slept soundly until the captain called them as they approached the dock at the point. Don shut down the engine and Jim tied up. In a body they went up to the lighthouse, to find the relief keeper and a police guard on duty.

Explanations were made and the guard and the relief keeper prepared to go back to town at daybreak. Seeing that everything was now in good order the captain and the boys went back to the sloop and slept for two hours. A mild sun was shining when Captain Blow awoke them.

“Let’s eat and get going,” he said. “That barge has taken a long lead and we’ve got to cut it down.”

Half an hour later the _Lassie_ headed out to sea and the chase was on.

_19. The Escape_

Jed Dale stepped on the deck of the river barge, smoking his pipe. Anyone, looking at him, would have noticed that he puffed at it with unnecessary force, and that he was highly nervous.

But no one was looking. The captain of the barge and Maxwell were in the cabin, and Todd, at the tiller, was gazing off toward the shore. They were coasting gently along a narrow part of the inland waterway, between two avenues of tall, thick trees. Tangled underbrush showed along the banks through the trees, but there was no sign of a single farmhouse. Only the puff of the barge’s steam engine broke the silence. The sun was going down, as faint and uninspiring as it had been all day. The barge swished unhurriedly through the black water.

The only one who was watching Jed was Terry. The cook, still smoking, was slowly edging nearer to the man at the tiller. Todd, always contemptuous of the quiet cook, paid no attention to him. Terry, his jaw set and his mind alert, stepped casually on deck and moved nearer the cook.

Todd looked at him for a moment curiously and then resumed his shore gazing. Jed had sat down on the top of a small deck locker which was close to the man at the tiller. Terry glanced over his shoulder and watched the water ahead. On all sides but one it moved rapidly, but in the one stretch, that near the right hand bank, it was still and black. There, Terry knew, was the sand bank, the instrument which he intended to use for his escape.

Jed Dale looked at the quiet stretch of water, which was now drawing rapidly nearer, and then nodded to the red-headed boy. Terry nodded back and gave a final look at the cabin. The door was closed and all seemed well. Jed knocked the ashes out of his pipe and drew his long legs up under him.

The next few seconds were filled with action. Without warning the cook threw himself on Todd. The man at the tiller was taken by surprise and crumpled up under the sudden and astonishing attack. At the same time Terry seized the tiller and pulled it toward him with all his might. The barge changed its course with a jerk. The blunt prow swung for the shore and the barge ground with a ripping, jarring sound on the sand bank, hard aground.

Sounds of crashing woodwork came from the forward cabin, the funnel of the engine collapsed and a cloud of steam poured from the engine room. A chorus of astonished shouts came from the cabin as the barge trembled on the sand, helpless. Without wasting time to look around Terry went to Jed’s rescue.

Todd had gone down like a log but now he had one hand firmly fixed in the collar of the cook. Terry realized, as he threw himself into the fray, that the loss of a minute would mean the end of their game. He could have easily leaped overboard and saved himself, but he had no intention of leaving the cook alone in the hands of the barge crew. What they would do to the unfortunate man was past thinking, and Terry put any thought of leaving Jed behind out of his mind. Todd’s hold was not any too good, and Terry seized his arm.