CHAPTER XXIII

THE MOTOR BOAT MISSING

In his eagerness to listen to what the men were saying Ned had gotten up on his knees. In doing so he had knocked down a monkey wrench from a seat, and the tool fell with a clatter to the bottom of the _Dartaway_.

“Some one is listening!” he heard one of the men in the sloop exclaim.

“Nonsense,” the other replied. “It was only an oar banging against the side of the boat.”

“Some one was listening I tell you! I’m going out to take a look.”

Ned decided it would not be wise for him to be found in the boat. While the man was ascending to the deck of the sloop the boy crawled noiselessly over the side of the _Dartaway_ and hid behind a box on the wharf. From there Ned watched the man leap from the sailing boat to the dock, and take a careful look around, including making an inspection of the _Dartaway_.

“See anything?” asked the one who had remained in the cabin.

“No one around. I guess you were right.”

“Course I was. Come aboard and we’ll finish our plans.”

With a rapidly beating heart Ned watched the man until he had disappeared into the cabin. Then without making any noise, for he wore rubber soled shoes, he hurried up the dock to the pavilion where the minstrel performance was going on. He wanted to tell his chums and decide on a plan of action.

“They’re plotting to wreck a vessel,” thought Ned. “They’re going to do something to the lighthouse light. We must stop them.”

There was such a big crowd at the show that the boy had some difficulty in locating his companions. When he did find them it was in the middle of a chorus, and Ned did not wish to disturb the audience in going to them, as the two lads were seated well up front. When he did reach them he whispered:

“Come out! I’ve got something important to tell you!”

“Leave us alone,” spoke Bob. “Go back and dream about Jessica if you want to. This is fine, and we haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh, hang you and your eating!” exclaimed Ned in such a loud whisper that he attracted the attention of several around him.

His manner showed his chums there was something up, and without waiting for the show to be over they went with Ned. When he was outside he quickly told them what he had heard.

“Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” asked Jerry, half inclined to doubt what Ned had related.

“Come on, and I’ll show you the sloop.”

The boys went down on the end of the dock where their own, as well as the sailing vessel had been fastened. Ned was leading the way. As he reached the place where the _Dartaway_ had been he stopped and rubbed his eyes.

“Why--why--I wonder if I’m on the wrong dock?” he said, staring about him.

“What’s up?” inquired Jerry.

“Isn’t this where we left our boat?”

“Sure, there’s only one dock near here. Why?”

“Well, it’s gone.”

“What, the boat or the dock?” asked Bob. “Come on, tell us, I want to get back and have something to eat.”

“The _Dartaway_ is gone!” exclaimed Ned. “So is the sloop! They’ve stolen our boat! They must suspect something!”

At first Jerry and Bob could not believe it. Then Ned went over again all that he had heard, telling how he had slipped away to inform them of how matters stood.

“They must have known it was our boat,” said Jerry. “Was Bill Berry one of the men?”

“I couldn’t see them plainly,” Ned replied. “Their voices didn’t either one of them sound like Bill’s though. What’s to be done?”

“We’d better give notice of our boat being stolen,” said Jerry, “and think of some scheme to get home. After that we’ll have to turn detectives and get the _Dartaway_.”

The minstrel show was over when the boys went back to the pavilion, and the crowd was coming away. The dock was thronged with persons seeking their boats to make the run for home.

“Hello boys!” called a voice, and they saw Captain Jenkinson, of the _Three Bells_ coming toward them. “You look as if something had happened.”

“Something has,” spoke Jerry. “Our boat’s been stolen.”

“Stolen! You don’t mean it. How?”

Ned related how it had happened, saying nothing however of the conversation he had overheard.

“We’ll tell the manager of the place, and he’ll send out a general alarm,” said the skipper of the _Three Bells_. “It isn’t the first time boats have been stolen from the docks around here. I believe there’s an organized gang. If we had a decent police force here it wouldn’t happen so often.”

The manager of the pavilion and amusement resort, who was also a sort of deputy sheriff, promised the boys to do what he could to recover their craft. He said he would have notices of the theft posted at his dock and all the other wharves along the coast.

“How you boys going to get home?” asked Captain Jenkinson.

“Walk I guess,” replied Jerry with a laugh. “It’s only about five miles by the shore road.”

“Well I guess you’ll not walk while there’s gasolene in the _Three Bells_,” was the hearty answer. “Get aboard. We’ll cruise around a bit, and maybe we’ll get sight of those rascals on the sloop. They probably sailed out to sea, towing your boat, and they’ll be likely to hide it in some cove until the affair blows over.”

Captain Jenkinson had a party of friends aboard his boat, but there was plenty of room for the boys. There was much sympathy expressed for them, and every one volunteered to be on the lookout for the _Dartaway_.

In the powerful boat quite an area of the bay in the vicinity of the dock was covered, in a search for a sight of the sloop. It was a fairly light night, and a sailing vessel could be made out some distance away.

There were several false alarms, and once the _Three Bells_ gave chase to a sloop that seemed trying to get away. But when they got up to her they found it was only a fishing boat getting a start for early morning work, and there was no sign of the boys’ craft.

“Too bad!” remarked Captain Jenkinson, as he landed the boys at their dock. “But it’s sure to turn up sooner or later. They’ll not dare to sell her, and can only keep her hidden. There are not many places where a boat the size of yours can be tucked away.”

It was kindly and well meant consolation, but the boys never felt in lower spirits than they did that night. Mrs. Hopkins tried to cheer them up, but it was hard work. She even suggested they hire another boat and make a search of the nearby harbors, for the missing one.

“I guess that’s a good plan,” said Jerry to his chums. “We’ll do it to-morrow.”

“What ought we to do about warning Mr. Hardack?” asked Ned, as they got ready to retire.

“Oh, I almost forgot about that,” came from Jerry. “I guess there will be time in the morning. Besides, we want to think it over a little more.”