THE BREAKDOWN
“Well, he hasn’t come back yet.”
“No. It’s sort of queer, too. I wonder where he can be keeping himself, all day?”
“Maybe those fellows have got to him after all.”
Jack Kimball and his chums, landing at the fisherman’s dock from the Dixie, thus commented when they paid another visit to Denny’s cabin, and found him still absent.
“No, I don’t imagine anything has happened,” said Jack. “You know he often goes off and stays a long time in his boat. He’s got a crazy sort of motor in it, that runs about as often as the one does in the Lassie. He may be stuck somewhere.”
“Or else waiting the turn of the tide,” suggested Ed.
“That’s right,” chimed in Dray. “I’ve heard him say that certain fish won’t bite when the tide’s running out, and that you can catch others only when it’s coming in. Maybe he is hanging around for that.”
“Then he ought to be back soon,” declared Jack, “for the tide turned a half-hour ago.”
“If he’s far out in the bay it will take him a long while to come in. His boat doesn’t make very good time,” observed Walter.
The boys walked around the cabin. It was closed and locked, and the warning note they had left for the fisherman was still pinned to the door.
“Which shows that those men haven’t been here,” said Jack. “That makes me fear that they may have gotten to him before us.”
“Why so?” asked Ed.
“Well, it’s evident that the men haven’t been here since the girls gave us the alarm. If they had they’d have torn up that note. Then, too, you’d think, if they were going to try to make Denny do what they wanted in the way of giving testimony, they’d be getting at it. He goes to bed early, as everybody around here knows, and locks up. If those fellows wanted to get at him without breaking in they’d come early. All of which makes me think that they may already have had a serious interview with him.”
“I hope not,” observed Walter. “I’m more inclined to believe that he’s out on the bay somewhere. If he is he’s all right.”
“Say, fellows, I’ve got an idea!” cried Jack.
“Hold fast to it—they’re scarce,” remarked Ed.
“No, but seriously. Suppose we cruise about a bit. We needn’t go far from the shore, and we can have an eye on the cabin. In case Denny is out on the water we may pick him up. Then we could tell him what was on, and warn him. We could do it even better than on shore here, for there’s no telling but what some of those fellows may be in hiding around here,” and Jack cast a look about. It was dark, but a full moon was coming up to make a light that revealed most objects.
“Then if there is a possibility that someone may be in ambush here,” said Walter, “we’d better keep a bit more mum. But I think Jack’s plan is a good one. Let’s cruise about a bit, but keep within sight of the cabin.”
No one had any objections so, after making a casual search about the cabin, and not finding anyone in hiding, the boys again got aboard the Dixie and started to cruise on the bay, that was now sparkling in the moonlight.
Jack and his chums kept a careful watch for Denny Shane’s boat. There were several motor craft out, for the night was one that invited trips on the water—calm and still, with a gentle breeze that had in it the tang of salt mingled with the sweet odors of Summer.
“I feel just like singing,” remarked Ed, after a pause during which the Dixie cruised about, not too far from the cabin.
“Have some regard for our feelings,” begged Jack. “Remember that we are under a great strain.”
“And Ed would be, too, if he sang,” said Walter. “At least I would feel constrained to remonstrate with him.”
“Huh! Think no one can sing but yourself!” retorted Ed.
“Moonlight always did have a queer effect on him,” remarked Jack.
Round about they cruised, and they were thinking of returning to make sure that Denny had not reached his cabin by some other route, unseen by them, when the motor of the Dixie gave a combined cough, groan and sneeze, and stopped short.
“There she goes!” exclaimed Ed.
“You mean there she doesn’t go!” corrected Walter.
“Get the talcum powder,” suggested Jack.
“I’m sure Dray didn’t use the tooth brush on her before we came out,” spoke Jack, accusingly.
The boys had a way of doing the most absurd things, from a mechanical standpoint, whenever their motors refused to mote. They would dust talcum powder on the cylinder tops, or tie a piece of baby-blue ribbon on the pet-cock when they had exhausted every other means of making a rebellious motor operate.
And the odd part of it was that, often, when they had done these seemingly silly things, the boat would start. So they were rather superstitious about it, and they did carry a tin of talcum powder with them, much to the amusement of the girls.
In turn the usual sources of trouble were looked for and eliminated one after the other.
No wires seemed to have broken, the current was good, the vibrator buzzed when the contact was made and there was plenty of gasoline in the tank.
“Put in a new spark plug,” suggested Jack.
“New ones went in to-day,” answered Dray. “They can’t have sooted already. It isn’t there.”
“Give her a little more air,” proposed Walter. “I think she’s getting too rich a gasoline mixture.”
“I’m not going to touch the carbureter!” declared the young owner of the Dixie. “It was trouble enough to get her fixed before. Hand me that talcum.” Gravely he dusted some on the pump rod.
Then another attempt was made to start the motor, but it only sighed dismally, and refused to do its duty.
“I say!” cried Jack, looking up from where he had been examining the carbureter with an electrical pocket flash, “we’re drifting out to sea!”
“So we are!” agreed Ed. “Say, can’t you get her going?”
“Can’t seem to,” replied Drayton. “I’ll sell this boat and get another as soon as I can. She’s a nuisance!”
“Well, we sure are broken down,” sighed Jack, “and how we are going to get back to the cabin is more than I can figure out.”
“Let’s whistle for help,” suggested Walter.
“Look!” exclaimed Jack, pointing in the direction of shore. “There’s a light in Denny’s cabin!”
They all looked, and saw a flickering gleam of fire near the shack that had been deserted all day.
“Something’s doing!” cried Ed. “And we’re stuck out here!”