THE MOTOR BOAT STOLEN
When the boys and Tom Barnum arrived at the Temples’, they found the household in a great state of excitement. Some of the maids were hysterical. But Frank and Della, with a few sharp-spoken words, shamed the women and brought them to their senses. However, it was not to be wondered at that hysteria prevailed, as there were few men about to give protection in case of an attack on the house, the butler being an oldish and timorous man and the chauffeur absent.
Frank assured the women, however, that they need not fear attack, and they retired to the servant’s quarters.
Meantime, Jack and Tom Barnum had assisted Bob to his rooms and examined his injury. It was found he had been struck by bullets not only once but twice. In neither case, however, was the injury serious. One had creased his right thigh, the other 190 pierced the calf without touching the bone. The wounds were bandaged and dressed.
Then a consultation was held, which both Della and Marjorie Faulkner insisted on attending. Both had been thoroughly frightened, but were plucky spirits, and the boys were loud in praise of their behavior. Frank could not thank Della enough for her interference to save him from the ruffian who had felled him.
It was decided that, due to their isolation and the nature of the country, it would be highly unwise as well as unprofitable to attempt to go in search of the ruffians. Tom Barnum, however, was instructed to send a warning by radio to the government men at the Brownell radio plant that these fellows were in the neighborhood, and this commission he duly carried out on his return to his quarters.
The boys were of the opinion that they had seen the last of the smugglers, and that, thwarted in their attempt to gain revenge, the latter would now make their way to the railroad and return to Brooklyn and Manhattan. For that the attack upon them was caused by a desire to obtain revenge, they had no doubt. It was what Captain Folsom had told them they might expect.
What was their dismay, however, the next day when, on arriving at the boathouse they discovered 191 the door broken open, and the new speed boat, pride of the trio, gone. Bob who had hobbled along by the aid of a cane groaned as he stared at the vacant space where the boat had been stowed on their return the night before.
“We’re out of luck,” he said. “That’s all.”
“Airplane damaged, motor boat stolen,” said Frank. “What next?”
But Jack refused to lament. His eyes blazed with wrath.
“This is too much,” he said. “We’ll have to do something about this. That’s all.”
After a consultation, it was decided to call Captain Folsom by radio at the Custom House and apprise him of the latest turn in the situation. By great good luck, Captain Folsom was in the Custom House at the time, on business connected with the disposal of the vast amount of liquor taken from the Brownell house. He commiserated with the boys on their hard luck, as well as on their lucky escape the previous night when unexpectedly attacked.
He promised to notify the New York police who would keep a lookout for the motor boat along both the Brooklyn and Manhattan water fronts. Furthermore, he agreed to undertake to notify the police authorities of towns along the Long Island shore between the Temple estate and the metropolis, so that 192 in case the smugglers made a landing and abandoned the boat, the boys would be notified where to recover it.
In conclusion, he added that the big raid and the arrest of Paddy Ryan and others at the Brownell house had not as yet brought to light the principals in the liquor-smuggling ring. The lesser prisoners, questioned separately, maintained that Ryan and Higginbotham were the sole principals known to them. Higginbotham had not been found, and Ryan refused to talk. It was Captain Folsom’s opinion, however, that one or more men of wealth and, possibly, of social or financial position, were behind the plot.
“You boys have been of such assistance,” he said, “that I’m telling you this, first, because I know you will be interested, but, secondly, because I want to put you on the lookout. You have shown yourselves such sensible, clever fellows that, if you keep your ears open, who knows but what you will stumble on something of importance. I believe the man or men behind the plot may live in the ‘Millionaire Colony’ down your way.”
What Captain Folsom had told the boys opened a new line for thought, and they discussed the matter at some length after finishing the radio conversation. The girls also were keenly interested. 193
“It’s so romantic,” said Della. “Just like the olden days when smuggling was a recognized industry in England, for instance, and big merchants holding positions of respectability and honor connived with the runners of contraband.”
“You needn’t go that far from home,” said Frank, a student of Long Island colonial history. “There was a time when, on both coasts of Long Island, pirates and smugglers made their headquarters and came and went unmolested. In fact, the officials of that day were in league with the rascals, and there was at least one governor of the Province of New York who feathered his nest nicely by having an interest in both kinds of ventures.”
The boys knew the names of most of the owners of great estates along the Long Island shore up to Southampton and beyond, and some time was spent in laughing speculation as to whether this or that great man was involved in the liquor-smuggling plot.
“Captain Folsom said,” explained Jack, “that so much money necessarily was involved in the purchase and movement of all that liquor, in the radio equipment, the buying of the Brownell place, the hiring of ships, the employment of many men, and so on, that he was pretty certain the men captured were only underlings and not principals. And, certainly, the business must have taken a great deal of money.” 194
Several days passed without the boys hearing further from Captain Folsom, nor was any word received that their motor boat had been recovered. They came to be of the opinion that it had been either scuttled or abandoned in some lonely spot upon which nobody had stumbled, or else that the thieves had managed to elude police vigilance in the harbor of New York. That the thieves might have used it to make their way to sea to a rendezvous where the ships of the liquor-smugglers’ fleet gathered did not occur to them, for the reason that despite the knowledge they had gained of the contraband traffic they were not aware as yet of its extent. Yet such was what actually had happened, as events were to prove.
Meantime, both Mr. Temple and Mr. Hampton returned to their homes, to be amazed at the tale of developments during their absence. Over their cigars in Mr. Hampton’s library, the two, alone, looked at each other and smiling shook their heads.
“I had to scold Jack for running his head into trouble,” said Mr. Hampton. “But—well, it’s great to be young, George, and to have adventure come and hunt you out.”
Mr. Temple nodded.
“I gave Bob and Frank a talking-to,” he commented. “Told them they had no business getting into trouble the minute my back was turned. But 195 Bob said: ‘Well, Dad, we got into trouble when your back wasn’t turned, too, out there in California last year. And we got you out of it, as a matter of fact.’ And Frank said: ‘We manage to come out on top, Uncle George.’”
Mr. Hampton laughed.
“Jack said something of the sort to me, too,” he said. “He recalled that it was only by putting his head into trouble, as I called it, that he managed to rescue me when I was a prisoner in Mexico and to prevent international complications.”
“It’s great to be young,” said Mr. Temple, looking at the glowing tip of his cigar.
Both men smoked in silence.
Sunday came and went without further developments. But on the next day, Monday, the fifth day after the momentous night at the Brownell place, Captain Folsom called the boys by radio. Tom Barnum, on duty at the plant, summoned Jack. The latter presently appeared at the Temple home in a state of high excitement.
“Say, fellows,” he cried, spying his chums sprawled out on the gallery, reading; “what would you say to a sea voyage, with a chance for a little excitement?”
Frank dropped his book and rolled out of the hammock in which he was swaying lazily. 196
“What do you mean?” he demanded, scrambling to his feet.
“Yes,” said Bob, who was comfortably sprawled out in a long low wicker chair; “what’s it all about?”
He heaved a cushion at Jack, which the latter caught and returned so quickly that it caught Bob amidships and brought him to feet with a bound. He winced a little. His injured leg, although well on the road to recovery, was not yet in a condition to withstand sudden jolting.
“Ouch,” he roared. “Sic ’em, Frank.”
“Let up,” declared Jack, warding off the combined attacks of his two chums, who began belaboring him with cushions; “let up, or I’ll keep this to myself.”
The pair fell back, but with cushions still held aloft menacingly.
“If it isn’t good,” said Frank, “look out.”
“Well, this is good, all right,” said Jack, and hurriedly he explained. Captain Folsom was about to set out from New York with Lieutenant Summers aboard the Nark to investigate reports that a veritable fleet of liquor-smuggling vessels was some miles out to sea off Montauk Point, the very tip of Long Island. On their way, they would stop off at the Brownell place and send a boat ashore with a change of guards to relieve those on duty. They would be 197 at the rendezvous in the course of the next three hours.
“Captain Folsom said,” concluded Jack, “that it had occurred to him the smugglers who stole our motor boat might have made out to this fleet, and invited us to go along to identify the boat in case it was found. He said there was just a bare chance of its being located, and he didn’t want to arouse our hopes unduly. Also, he added that there would be no danger, and he thought we would enjoy the outing. This time, however, he said, he would not take us unless by the permission of our parents. If that could be obtained, we should make our way to the Brownell place and the boat would pick us up.”
“Hurray,” cried Frank, executing a war dance. “Whoo-oo-oo-oo-oo!”
“Call up your father, Bob,” said Jack, “and ask him. I’ll run home and get my Dad on the long distance.”
Both boys hastened to execute the commission, and when Jack returned in an incredibly short time it was with his father’s permission to make the trip. Mr. Temple proved similarly amiable. Both men felt there could be no danger to the boys on such an expedition, as it was altogether unlikely that any liquor-runners would make a stand against an armed vessel of the United States Navy. Also, they were 198 struck by Captain Folsom’s reasoning as to the possible whereabouts of the motor boat and, knowing how the boys were put out at the loss, they felt it was only fair to the chums to permit them to run down this clue.
“It’s a good three miles to Starfish Cove,” said Jack, anxiously. “Can you make it all right on that bum leg, Bob?”
For answer Bob swung the wounded member back and forth several times. “I’ll hold out all right,” he said. “If I can’t make it all the way, you fellows can carry me. I’m only a slight load.”
Frank groaned in mock dismay.
The girls had gone visiting with Mrs. Temple. So, leaving a note to explain their absence, the boys set out.