The
Deserted Yacht

By
Ann Wirt

The Madge Sterling Series

The Missing Formula
The Deserted Yacht
The Secret of the Sundial

THE GOLDSMITH PUBLISHING COMPANY
CHICAGO

Copyright, 1932
The Goldsmith Publishing Company
Made in U. S. A.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE [I A Strange Reception] 11 [II An Unwilling Boatman] 18 [III The Abandoned Yacht] 24 [IV Enid’s Story] 30 [V A Puzzling Case] 35 [VI A Midnight Visitor] 44 [VII A Motor Boat Chase] 51 [VIII An Important Communication] 58 [IX A Jade Pin] 65 [X Uninvited Visitors] 73 [XI The Zudi Drum] 81 [XII An Unusual History] 87 [XIII A Clever Substitute] 94 [XIV A Call for Aid] 103 [XV Rescue] 115

THE DESERTED YACHT

Chapter I
A Strange Reception

A young girl in a neat traveling suit of dark blue, alighted from the last car of the long train which had pulled into the Cheltham Bay station and with eager eyes surveyed the crowded platform.

“Expectin’ someone to meet you, Miss?” the colored porter inquired politely.

“Why, yes, I was,” Madge Sterling returned, a perplexed frown puckering her eyebrows. “Just set the suitcase down anywhere here. My friends will surely come in a few minutes.”

With profuse thanks, the porter pocketed the coin she gave him and swung back into his car. Madge looked anxiously about. On all sides persons were hurrying up to greet friends who had arrived on the train, but no one appeared to be searching for her.

“Strange Enid didn’t meet me or at least send word,” she thought. “I do hope I’ve made no mistake about the time.”

To make sure, she opened her purse and looked again at the letter which she very nearly knew by heart. She had made no error. Enid Burnett had stated very clearly that she would be on hand when the ten-fifteen train arrived.

“It will be more convenient to meet you at Cheltham Bay than any other place,” she had written in a bold scrawl. “From the station we’ll go directly to our yacht, The Flora which will be anchored in the harbor. Father will have everything in readiness for the trip, so the instant you set foot on deck, we’ll sail. Here’s to two glorious weeks on the water!”

Madge folded the letter and laid it away. There was nothing to do but wait. Undoubtedly, Enid had only been delayed.

She watched the heavy train move slowly from the station. The crowd on the platform rapidly thinned and soon she alone remained. After a little, she picked up her suitcase and carried it to the waiting room, stationing herself near a window where she could see all automobiles driving in and out of the railway yard.

“I can’t imagine what is keeping Enid,” she thought anxiously. “It looks as though I may be stranded here.”

It occurred to her that her friend might have dispatched the invitation upon the impulse of the moment, and then, in the rush of social affairs which always engulfed her, forgotten about it. Enid was generous to a fault but she was apt to be careless too. In school she had been known to make rash promises which she promptly forgot.

“If I’ve traveled all the way from Loon Lake, Canada, to participate in a mythical yacht cruise, I’ll never forgive her,” Madge assured herself.

Time dragged slowly. She made innumerable trips to the water fountain, she experimented with the gum machine and even tried to interest herself in a magazine. At length, after more than an hour had passed, she arose impatiently.

“I don’t believe she’s coming,” she decided. “There’s no sense in waiting here forever.”

After a brief debate, she walked over to an information window.

“I know this isn’t in your line,” she said apologetically to the young man in charge, “but I’m trying to locate a party by the name of Burnett. You’re not acquainted with anyone by that name?”

“You don’t mean Frank Burnett, the yachtsman?”

Madge nodded eagerly.

“I can’t say I know him,” the other informed, “but I did see by the paper that his yacht had dropped anchor in the bay. It came in yesterday, I believe.”

This information left Madge more puzzled than before. If The Flora had arrived at Cheltham Bay, she could think of no reason for Enid’s failure to meet her.

“If you want to get out to the yacht, you likely can find some boatman at the dock who will row you over,” the clerk advised.

Madge thanked him and turned away. She scarcely knew what to do. It would prove embarrassing to go alone to the Burnett yacht, and yet, surely they were expecting her. After traveling so many miles it would be foolish to return home without making an attempt to see her friend. It was barely possible that an accident had delayed Enid.

“I may as well try to locate the yacht,” she decided.

She carried her suitcase outside and a taxi driver immediately came to her assistance. Directing him to take her to the wharf, she sank wearily against the cushions, scarcely troubling herself to gaze at the tall office buildings which whizzed by on either side as the cab rattled over the rough pavement. A short drive carried her within sight of the bay and only then did she lean forward in her seat to obtain a better view.

The taxi halted near the wharf and the driver swung open the car door. Madge alighted and paid her fare.

“Can you tell me which yacht is The Flora?” she inquired.

“She lies yonder.” The driver indicated a vessel anchored out some distance in the bay.

At sight of the trim little yacht with its gay flags fluttering in the off shore breeze, Madge’s spirits arose. It was good to be near the water again. And a two weeks’ sailing trip would be such glorious fun!

She looked about for someone to row her out to the yacht. The wharf appeared deserted, for the hour approached noon. After walking a short distance along the water front, her attention was attracted to a man who sat hunched over in a boat that was tied to the dock. His lunch was spread out on the seat before him, but his real interest seemed to center upon something out in the bay. Following his gaze, Madge saw that he was intently watching The Flora.

“He must have a boat to rent,” she reasoned. “I’ll see if I can bargain with him.”

She approached closer and addressed him. Startled, the man turned sharply and stared.

Instantly, Madge regretted that she had spoken for the boatman was not at all to her liking. He was dressed in dirty white duck trousers and a grimy shirt, but it was his face rather than his clothing that repulsed her. She saw at once that he was of foreign extraction, though she could not have guessed his nationality. His complexion was extremely dark and his straight black hair had not been cut in many weeks. His eyes bore into her with disconcerting intensity.

“I beg your pardon, do you have a boat to rent?” she questioned.

He continued to stare until she thought he would never reply. Then touching his cap, he muttered something, speaking with such an accent that she could scarcely make it out.

“Three dolla’ an hour,” he added indifferently.

“I didn’t want to buy the boat,” Madge smiled. “Perhaps I failed to understand correctly. You said—”

“Three dolla’ an hour,” he repeated, scowling darkly.

“Why, that’s unreasonable. At my Uncle George’s fishing lodge in Canada we rent out boats for all day at less than that.”

The boatman shrugged indifferently and Madge thought for an instant that an expression of relief actually crossed his face.

“That my price,” he insisted. “Maybe you find another boat.”

Madge looked up and down shore but there was no other boat to be had. She realized full well that she was being outrageously over-charged, but she was eager to reach the Burnett yacht without delay.

“I’ll rent your boat,” she decided. “It won’t take more than half an hour to get where I’m going.”

“Three dolla’ minimum charge,” the boatman announced impressively.

“Are you trying to discourage me?” Madge demanded suspiciously. “I don’t believe you’re very anxious to rent your boat.” Without giving him an opportunity to reply, she took a small roll of bills from her pocketbook and handed him three. “Here’s your pay in advance.”

He accepted the money with obvious unwillingness and lifted her suitcase into the boat. She seated herself and he cast off the painter.

“Take me to The Flora,” she directed. “See, it’s that yacht this side of the buoy.”

Madge was unprepared for the effect her words produced upon the man. He turned quickly, his eyes smoldering. An expression she could not fathom, flashed over his face.

“I not take you there!” he uttered vehemently, thrusting the three bills rudely toward her. “Here, take your money! You mus’ get another boat!”

CHAPTER II
An Unwilling Boatman

Madge was taken aback at the boatman’s unexpected announcement but she had no intention of being diverted from her original plan. His very reluctance only whetted her determination to hold him to his bargain.

“Keep the money,” she insisted. “You made the agreement and you must stand by it. Why do you object to taking me to the Burnett yacht?”

The man muttered something about “a bad omen” which she failed to understand.

“Come, don’t try to tell me there’s any silly superstition about that boat,” she declared impatiently. “Will you take me there or must I call the authorities?”

At mention of the police, the man grew even more agitated. He looked first toward The Flora and then at Madge. After a moment’s indecision, he picked up the oars and without a word, rowed away from the dock.

It struck Madge that she might be doing a foolish thing to trust herself to a strange boatman, particularly one who acted so queerly. However, she felt there was no real danger as long as they were within sight of other boats anchored in the bay.

Madge had never been one to forego an adventure for the sake of caution. Perhaps her life in the north woods had taught her resourcefulness and courage. At any rate, since the death of her mother and the strange disappearance of her father, she had learned to look out for herself. Since childhood she had made her home with her Uncle George and Aunt Maude Brady, and many pleasant summers had been spent at their fishing lodge on Loon Lake, Canada. There she had made friends with Anne Fairaday, an orphan living at Stewart Island. This acquaintance had plunged her into an exciting hunt for a hidden paper, the story of which is related in the first volume of the Madge Sterling series, entitled, “The Missing Formula.”

At Loon Lake she had met Jack French, a handsome young forest ranger, who, in taking leave of her on the eve of her trip to Cheltham Bay, had warned her that before the summer ended she might see him again.

Madge had been elated at the thought of spending a vacation aboard the Burnett yacht. Enid was the daughter of a noted sportsman and collector of antiques, and since the death of her mother had been permitted to grow up much as she pleased. Notwithstanding, she was a cheerful, friendly sort of girl, not in the least spoiled.

During the tedious trip across the bay, Madge had ample opportunity to study the face of her boatman. He avoided her glance, yet when she looked away, she could feel his eyes upon her.

“He must be a Hindu,” she thought uncomfortably. “At least, I’m sure he’s from India.”

Although the man was dressed in cheap, rough clothing, he did not appear to be a suitable type for the occupation he had chosen. His hands were not those of one who worked at hard labor. Madge noticed too that he wore an expensive looking jade pin, fastened over his breast.

“There’s something wrong with the picture,” she meditated. “He must have seen better days—or else he stole that pin!”

She wished anew that she was safely aboard The Flora. The yacht was still a considerable distance away, too far for her to see anyone on deck.

“Why doesn’t he row faster?” she asked herself impatiently. “We’ll never get there at this rate.”

At her suggestion to the effect, the boatman only stared uncomprehendingly until she gave up trying to make him understand.

“He knows what I want but he’s stubborn,” she decided. “What ails him anyway? I’m certainly paying him enough for his work.”

She longed to take over the oars and show him how to row a boat. Instead, she reconciled herself to a slow trip under the broiling noonday sun and tried to become interested in a small sailboat which was tacking in toward the harbor.

At length, they drew near The Flora, approaching from the port side. Madge scanned the railing for a glimpse of her friends. The decks appeared deserted.

“Where is everyone?” she asked in surprise.

The boatman rowed alongside of the yacht and she grasped a trailing rope.

“Hallo, aboard!” she called out.

There was no answer. “You see,” the boatman muttered. “No one aboard. We go back.”

“Not yet, we don’t,” Madge corrected. “There must be someone here.” She glanced at her wrist watch and saw that it was twelve-fifteen. “Probably everyone is eating luncheon in the cabin.”

She shouted again but as there was no reply, indicated to her boatman that she wanted him to row around the yacht until they came to a rope ladder which hung down over the side.

“Do you mind climbing up to see if anyone is aboard?” she asked.

The boatman rewarded her with another blank stare.

“He understands perfectly,” Madge thought irritably. “Oh, well, I see I either must argue until I’m black in the face or do it myself.”

Instructing the boatman to wait for her, she grasped the rope and began the ascent. The ladder weaved back and forth as the vessel rolled gently in the waves but Madge was not afraid of falling.

“I feel like a monkey in the zoo,” she chuckled. “Such a dignified way to arrive!”

She reached the deck and looked about. Everything was in order but there was no sign of activity. It struck her as peculiar that no sailors were on duty, although she knew that Mr. Burnett employed only a few men. Everything was strangely quiet.

“It begins to look as though I’m not expected,” she told herself. “Of course, Enid and her father may have gone to the station after I left. That would account for their absence. I hope I didn’t miss them.”

She wandered around to the opposite side of the yacht and paused before a door which led down into the dining salon. It was half ajar and as she opened it wider she saw that the salon was empty.

“Not a sign of the cook or anyone,” she reflected. “This is what I call an enthusiastic welcome! And I’m half starved too!”

Passing a stateroom, Madge thought she heard a slight sound from within. She knocked loudly upon the closed door. There was no response.

She turned away, only to pause and retrace her steps. A queer intuitive feeling had taken possession of her—a conviction that all was not as it should be aboard the yacht.

She hesitated before the door, scarcely knowing whether or not it was her business to investigate. Then with sudden decision, she grasped the knob and turned it.

The sight that greeted Madge’s eyes left her startled and dumbfounded.

“Oh,” she gasped. “What dreadful thing has happened?”

CHAPTER III
The Abandoned Yacht

The door had swung back to reveal a wrecked stateroom. Everything was in confusion. Chairs were upset, papers strewn over the floor and a table lamp had toppled to the floor. Obviously, the room had been occupied by Mr. Burnett, for his clothing hung on nails along the wall, but there was no sign of the noted yachtsman. The bed had not been slept in on the previous night.

Madge was thoroughly alarmed. It was immediately apparent to her that something was radically wrong. She saw clearly that there had been a struggle, and from the condition of the furniture and fixtures, it had been a desperate one. What had become of Mr. Burnett and Enid?

“It’s a case for the police,” she decided instantly. “I must return to the city as quickly as I can and bring someone here!”

Closing the door behind her, she ran back to the railing. Peering down, she searched in vain for her boatman. Her eyes turned shoreward and she saw him several hundred yards away, rowing hurriedly toward the harbor.

“Come back!” she called frantically. “I want to go with you!”

She shouted until she was nearly hoarse, but the boatman gave no indication that he heard. He kept his face lowered and not once did he glance back toward the yacht.

“Now what shall I do?” Madge asked herself in desperation. “I believe that man left me stranded here on purpose! Oh, I could scalp him!”

She gazed resentfully after the retreating boatman, observing that he made far greater speed than on the trip out to the yacht. Not for a moment did she believe he had mistaken her order to wait.

She consoled herself with the thought that she would have him arrested for carrying away her luggage. However, unobserved by her, the boatman had brought the suitcase aboard. She saw it on the deck as she turned around.

“He came aboard quickly enough when he wanted to!” she exclaimed. “I wonder why he ran away? Perhaps he had a suspicion that something was wrong here.”

She recalled his reluctance to rent his boat and his unwillingness to make the trip to The Flora. Having taken an instant dislike to him, she decided without further consideration, that he was a questionable character and would bear investigation. She determined to speak of him when she acquainted the authorities with the situation as she had found it aboard the yacht.

For the present, her one desire was to reach shore as quickly as possible. She gazed anxiously about for help. Several small boats were plying in and out of the harbor, but they were too far away to be of aid. As if by a preconceived plan, they kept beyond hailing distance.

“It looks as though I’ll be here for some time,” Madge commented inwardly. “Oh, dear, and it’s so important that I notify the police without delay. Something dreadful may have happened to Enid and her father.”

Since it availed her nothing to stand helplessly by the railing, she decided to look about the ship more carefully and see if she could make further discoveries. It was difficult for her to believe that the yacht had been entirely abandoned.

After visiting the kitchen and the lounge, she noticed a second cabin not far from the one occupied by Mr. Burnett. The door was unlocked and she entered, half expecting to find everything in disorder.

She found herself in Enid’s room. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. Toilet articles were neatly arranged on the dressing table, and in opening a closet door, Madge saw a long line of pretty frocks. An empty traveling bag occupied the shelf above.

“Enid couldn’t have gone away for the weekend or she would have taken her things,” she reasoned.

Only the bed gave evidence that the room had been occupied within the past twenty-four hours. The sheets were wrinkled and the blankets lay upon the floor, as though the occupant had tossed them hurriedly aside upon arising.

“It’s beyond me,” Madge mused. “Evidently, Enid slept here last night—or at least a portion of the night, but Mr. Burnett didn’t.”

In her mind, the conviction was steadily growing that her friends had met with violence. She had read that robberies were not an infrequent occurrence aboard luxurious yachts, and Mr. Burnett was known to have valuables and art treasures in his possession.

Sorely troubled, she returned to the upper deck to watch for a boat, but as there was none close by, she wandered restlessly about.

“It’s odd what became of all the sailors,” she thought. “Surely someone would be here to tell the story, even if there had been a robbery. It’s the most mysterious thing I ever encountered.”

Presently, she reentered Mr. Burnett’s cabin to look again for clues. Crossing to the desk, she jerked open a drawer. To her astonishment, she saw, tucked beneath some papers, a leather billfold. A glance disclosed that it contained two twenty dollar bills.

“This doesn’t look like robbery after all,” Madge told herself. “I don’t know what to make of it now.”

She was even more puzzled when she entered the bathroom adjoining the cabin and found a silver watch lying upon the shelf above the wash bowl. She was still examining it when she became aware of a slight scraping sound in the bedroom. At first she thought she must be mistaken, but as she heard it again, she hastily retraced her steps.

All was quiet in the stateroom. Madge looked about but could see no cause for the strange sound. She was about to turn away when it was repeated, and this time she distinctly traced it to a closet on the opposite side of the room.

“There’s some one in there!” she thought in excitement.

She ran to the door and tried to jerk it open. It was locked.

As she moved the handle, she heard the same scraping noise, louder than before. Now she knew that someone was imprisoned within and pulled frantically at the knob. Realizing that she was only wasting her strength, she looked about the room for some object with which to break the lock. Instead, her eye fell upon a key that lay on the carpet at her feet. Evidently, it had fallen from the door or had been dropped purposely.

With nervous fingers she fitted it into the lock. It refused to turn. She worked with it and after several attempts, was rewarded by a sharp click.

She jerked open the door and stepped back in amazement and horror. There at her feet, bound and gagged, lay Enid.

CHAPTER IV
Enid’s Story

The girl on the floor rolled over and groaned. She raised her head and tried to speak, but only succeeded in making choking noises in her throat.

“Oh, you poor thing!” Madge cried, trying to lift her up. “I’ll have you free in just a minute. Who left you here like this?”

Realizing that her friend could not reply, she quickly slipped the gag from her mouth. Even then, Enid made no attempt to speak other than to murmur an incoherent, “thank goodness.” She leaned weakly against the wall and watched as Madge tried to release the ropes which bound her.

“There’s a pen knife—in the desk,” she managed, but the effort left her spent.

Madge failed to find it, but flew to the kitchen where she did locate a sharp paring knife. Quickly, she severed the ropes and helped Enid to her feet. She could not stand alone for her limbs were temporarily paralyzed from being too long in a cramped position. Madge supported her and half carried her to the bed.

“Water,” the girl pleaded.

Madge ran again to the kitchen, returning with a pitcher filled with water. Enid gulped down one glass and would have drunk another had not Madge thought it best to restrain her. She was shocked at the girl’s appearance. Her face was streaked from tears, and deathly white. Her parched lips were twisted as though from pain. The white silk dress she wore, had been torn in several places. Her reddish brown hair, usually so nicely groomed, hung in wisps about her face.

“I’ll be all right in a little while,” she insisted. “I feel better now.”

Madge had noticed that Enid’s wrists and ankles were swollen and bruised from the ropes so she searched the bathroom for bandage material. As she poured iodine into the cuts, her patient showed the first signs of returning vivacity.

“Good grief, Madge! Have a heart!”

“Stop wriggling, or I’ll spill this stuff all over you. I know it hurts.”

By the time she had finished bandaging, Enid was more like her old self. Not until then did Madge try to learn what had happened.

“It’s too dreadful to tell,” Enid murmured brokenly. “Father’s been kidnapped!”

“Kidnapped!”

Enid nodded forlornly.

“It happened last night. I’ve been locked up in that closet ever since. I thought I’d die before someone came!”

“What became of your father?”

“Oh, Madge, if only I knew! Those horrible men took him away! I’m afraid they’ve murdered him! I’m afraid—”

“Now, now,” Madge comforted, slipping her arm about Enid, “don’t take on so. It won’t help matters to become hysterical. Try to tell me as calmly as you can just what took place.”

Enid made an effort to steady herself. She gripped her friend’s hand tightly as she began her story.

“Father and I were alone last night here. We had given the three sailors and our cook forty-eight hours shore leave, for we had decided not to sail until tomorrow morning. Father had gone to his cabin to read. I idled about the deck for an hour or so. It was after eleven when I finally went to bed.” She paused and seemed to lose herself in unpleasant thoughts.

“Go on,” Madge urged gently.

“It was sometime later—I’m not just sure what time it was, when I was awakened. I heard a boat grate against the side of the yacht and then someone called out. Father answered but I couldn’t make out what he said. However, I gathered that some men wanted to speak to him in the cabin.”

“You don’t know who they were?”

“No, they must have given their names, but I couldn’t hear well enough through the porthole. At any rate, they seemed to have convinced Father that they were all right, for after some discussion, he permitted them to come aboard.

“I don’t know why I didn’t go back to sleep. I had a queer feeling that I can’t explain. I sensed that something was wrong. After a minute or so I got up and opened the door. I couldn’t hear a sound in Father’s cabin. I decided to dress.”

“You turned on the light?” Madge inquired.

“No, I didn’t, and I made as little noise as possible, although up until then I really had no reason to be afraid. It was just a feeling—”

“I understand. Then what happened?”

“I had just finished dressing when I heard a commotion in Father’s cabin. It sounded as though they were throwing the furniture around. I ran there as fast as I could. As I threw open the door I saw that two men were trying to overpower Father. He was fighting desperately, holding them at bay with a chair. I screamed and just then the light was extinguished.”

“That was the last you recall?”

“Very nearly. I do remember that Father shouted for me to get away. But before I could act, something struck me on the back of the head.” Enid raised her hand and tenderly felt the bump. “I didn’t know anything more for several hours. When I came to, I found myself in that closet, bound and gagged. I’ve been there ever since.”

“It was horrible of them to leave you like that,” Madge declared angrily. “Why, you might have suffocated. Or starved to death!”

“I did think I’d die before help came,” Enid confessed with a wry smile. “I really don’t believe those men would have cared. They’re heartless! That’s why I’m so worried about Father. They’ve taken him away somewhere.”

“We must get the police after them instantly. Is there any way we can reach shore?”

“Why, yes, we have a motor boat. If you’ll help me now I think I can walk.”

“Don’t you want something to eat first? You’re not very strong.”

Enid shook her head.

“No, I’ll not feel like eating until I know the police are on the trail of those men.”

She insisted that they start at once, and with Madge supporting her, managed to reach the deck. Peering down over the railing she uttered a startled cry.

“What’s the matter?” Madge asked.

“The motor boat! It’s gone! Someone has cut it from its moorings!”

CHAPTER V
A Puzzling Case

Both girls could plainly see where the motor boat had been tied. Only a stub end of rope remained.

“Those kidnappers must have cut it loose last night when they carried Father off!” Enid cried. “Now how are we to get ashore?”

“We might swim,” Madge suggested seriously, measuring with her eye the distance to the wharf. “I think I could make it.”

“Well, I couldn’t, and anyway, I have a better idea.”

Enid brought out a distress flag which had been stored away and hung it where it would be seen by a passing ship. While they awaited rescue, Madge prepared food from the generous assortment of tin goods she found in the kitchen. Enid was induced to eat. The food seemed to revive her and she declared it was the most delicious she had ever tasted. The color gradually flooded back into her cheeks.

Madge asked a great many questions and in turn related her experience with the boatman. She was a trifle disappointed when the matter was passed off lightly.

“So many longshore-men and waterfront derelicts are like that,” Enid told her. “You can’t trust some of them out of your sight. It’s a wonder he didn’t run off with your suitcase.”

The girls maintained a faithful watch but no ships passed near the yacht. They were about to despair when Madge noticed a black and red amphibian taxiing toward shore.

“Oh, I hope the pilot sees our signal!” she exclaimed. “He’s not looking this way.”

Frantically, they waved their hands to attract his attention. They feared they had failed, for the plane maintained its course. Then suddenly it swerved and the pilot returned their greeting.

“Why, it’s Rex Stewart!” Enid cried, observing the amphibian’s wing markings. “And he’s coming this way.”

Madge did not inquire as to the identity of the young man mentioned, but from the poppy color which swiftly mounted Enid’s cheeks, she surmised that he was a very special friend.

Rex Stewart had known and admired Enid for many years. He was the son of a prominent, ultra-conservative Cheltham Bay lawyer but had inherited none of his father’s staid viewpoints. It was the private opinion of the Stewart family that he was too reckless, and far too interested in aviation for his own good. Rex liked fast horses and speedy motorboats; he owned his own amphibian and was an excellent pilot. He made friends easily and kept them. And, rather to the surprise of everyone, he stood high in the sophomore class of Ardmore College.

The plane continued toward the yacht, slackening its speed as it approached. While still far enough away to be in no danger of crashing the propeller or wings against the side of the ship, Rex idled the engine, allowing the plane to drift.

“Anything wrong?” he called out.

Trying to make themselves heard above the roar of the engine, Madge and Enid finally succeeded in conveying the idea that they wished to be taken ashore.

“I don’t see how he’ll ever get us aboard,” Enid said despairingly. “I’ll tell him to go on in and send a boat back after us.”

She shouted the message across the water, but Rex was unwilling to leave. Deliberately, taking every precaution, he edged the amphibian in close to the yacht. Anxiously the girls watched him maneuver. The bay was unusually quiet and Rex maintained perfect control, yet they realized that the slightest miscalculation of distance or an unexpected roll of the yacht might result in a crumpled wing.

As he succeeded in making contact, the girls hastily lowered themselves into the front cockpit. Madge obtained only a fleeting impression of the young pilot’s face, for it was half-masked with goggles and helmet. He was not handsome but his eyes were friendly and there was a quality about him that was most likable.

“You shouldn’t have risked your plane to take us off,” Enid protested after she had introduced Madge.

“I knew what I was about,” Rex returned, smiling broadly. “Sit tight now and we’ll run in to the beach.”

He opened the throttle and the amphibian skimmed lightly over the water. In a few minutes they drew near the shore where a flagman signalled them in. Rex beached the plane and aided the girls in alighting.

“Now tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded.

Enid poured out her story with Madge adding additional details. Rex listened in amazement, and when they had finished promptly agreed that the wisest thing was to notify the authorities without delay.

“It doesn’t sound like an ordinary case of kidnapping to me,” he declared, and then as Enid’s face grew even more distressed, he added quickly: “Don’t worry. The police will find your father.”

“If it’s a case of money, I can arrange with Father’s banker,” Enid returned earnestly. “I’ll give any amount they say—anything to secure his release.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” Rex advised. “Better let the police deal with those men. You know how your father is too, Enid. He’d never give in an inch.”

“No, I realize Father would never allow himself to be ransomed if he could help it. That’s what may make it so hard. He’ll defy those men and refuse to communicate with me. They may do terrible things to him.”

“Don’t think about it,” Rex admonished, taking her arm and steering her toward the roadside. “I’ll go with you to the police.”

He helped the girls into a taxicab and during the ride to the police headquarters, did his best to cheer Enid. She leaned her head back against the cushion and scarcely spoke.

“You really believe the police can find him?” she murmured once.

“Why, of course,” Rex assured her heartily, but over her head he shot Madge a glance which told her that he considered the situation more serious than his words indicated.

At the police station, the girls were asked a great many questions but Rex made everything easy for them. He knew several policemen and it was largely due to his efforts that one of the best detectives on the force, a man by the name of Randall, was assigned the case.

They all drove to the beach in a police car and Rex made two trips to the yacht in his amphibian. Randall and another detective who accompanied him, were conducted to Mr. Burnett’s stateroom which the girls had left undisturbed. The two men looked about but at the end of their investigation admitted they had found no new clues.

“It may have been an inside job,” Randall said to Enid. “How many men does your father employ?”

“Three sailors and a cook. He does his own piloting.”

“And you say that last night when the kidnapping occurred, you and your father were alone.”

“Why, yes, Father had given our employes forty-eight hours shore leave.”

“Wasn’t that rather unusual?”

“No, we frequently stay here alone,” Enid declared. “All of the men but one live at Cheltham Bay and whenever we anchor Father usually gives them a day or so off duty.”

The detective digested this information in silence. He conferred with his companion and then questioned Enid again.

“Did your father keep large sums of money or valuables aboard?”

“Not to my knowledge. He was always afraid of being robbed.”

“Have you heard him express any such fear recently, Miss Burnett?”

“N-o.” Enid hesitated and then went on: “But I will say he hasn’t acted exactly like himself the past month.”

“In what way do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing he purchased a revolver. He seemed to be afraid of something. I can’t say what it was. He always laughed when I asked questions.”

“H-m,” the detective meditated. “And where did he keep the revolver?”

“It was in the desk.”

“It’s not there now,” Randall informed. “You heard no shots fired, Miss Burnett?”

“Oh, no. Only the struggle as I told you.”

“It’s possible your father recognized his assailants and in self-protection they were forced to kidnap him,” Randall suggested thoughtfully. “Their real motive may have been robbery.”

“Then why didn’t they take Mr. Burnett’s pocketbook?” Madge asked pointedly.

“They may have overlooked it.”

Madge made no reply although she took scant stock in such a theory. It seemed to her that the detectives were conducting only a routine investigation, that their interest in the case was only perfunctory. And Mr. Randall’s next words deepened this impression.

“There’s no need to worry, Miss Burnett. We’ll find your father but it may take time. If it’s a case of kidnapping for ransom, you’re sure to hear within a few days at most. In the meantime, we’ll do all we can, and keep in close touch with you.”

Rex carried the detectives back to the mainland after they had completed their investigation and then returned to The Flora. He found Enid sadly in need of someone to cheer her.

“I don’t know how I’ll stand it,” she declared unhappily. “I’ll go crazy just sitting and waiting. If only I could do something!”

Rex and Madge exchanged quick, significant glances. They had both been disappointed at the outcome of the police investigation. They realized far better than did Enid, that it might be a long wait indeed before word was received from Mr. Burnett.

“We will do something,” Madge said quietly, slipping her arm protectingly about her friend’s shoulders. “I don’t know how, but someway we’ll manage to trace your father! And when we find him I think the police will learn that it isn’t a case of ordinary kidnapping!”

CHAPTER VI
A Midnight Visitor

Rex soon took leave of the girls, saying that he intended to return to the police station for another talk with the authorities, and then go in search of the Burnett motor boat which had been cut loose from The Flora.

“I can’t thank you enough for all the trouble you’re taking,” Enid told him gratefully.

“Don’t thank me until I really help you,” he returned. “I probably won’t find the boat for those men may have stolen it instead of cutting it adrift.”

After Rex had gone there was little for the girls to do. Madge thought it best that they leave Mr. Burnett’s room untouched lest the police wish to examine it again and Enid had no desire to put the cabin to rights. She paced nervously up and down deck, avoiding that section of the yacht. Madge begged her to lie down for a few hours and she reluctantly went to her own cabin. After a time she fell into a troubled sleep and did not awaken until her chum shook her gently.

“Wake up, Enid. Rex is here and he’s found the motor boat.”

Enid hastily straightened her rumpled hair and hurried out upon deck. Rex already had come aboard after tying up the recovered boat.

“Where did you find it?” Enid questioned eagerly.

“Out near Culver’s Island. I figured that if it had been left to drift, the current would carry it that way. I cruised around in my amphibian until I sighted it and then notified the Coast Guard. By the time I had gone home for my own motor boat they had recovered it, so I merely towed it out here.”

“Did you examine it, for possible clues?” Madge inquired.

“Yes, I looked it over. If those kidnappers used the boat they were smart enough not to leave any thing behind that would identify them. However, it’s my guess they made their get-away in their own boat and merely cut this one adrift as an additional precaution against being followed.”

“I don’t see how they figured I could follow them when I was tied hand and foot and locked in that stifling closet,” Enid said bitterly, “and to know that Father is in their power! They may mistreat him!”

“Not if they are after a large ransom,” Rex suggested, in an effort to cheer her. “You may be sure of that.”

“The police said probably we would receive some communication within twenty-four hours,” Enid declared, more hopefully. “I wonder how much they’ll want?”

Rex met Madge’s eyes and he read the thought that had flashed through her mind. She had begun to wonder if a communication ever would be received. From the first, it had seemed unlikely to her that the kidnapping had been committed for the sole purpose of securing ransom. She felt there might be a more sinister motive behind the crime.

Before the conversation could be resumed, the sound of a boat grating against the side of the yacht, drew the trio to the railing. Unobserved by them, a craft had made fast to the yacht, and now they saw they were to entertain representatives of the press. The reporters swarmed aboard without waiting for an invitation, bombarding the girls with terse questions. A photographer insisted upon taking their pictures. Likewise, he photographed the yacht and Mr. Burnett’s cabin. Only the arrival of a second boat, containing Mr. Randall and two other detectives, brought the ordeal to an end.

“Have you learned anything new?” Enid inquired hopefully of Mr. Randall, after the reporters had gone.

“We’re making progress,” he informed. “Your father’s description has been broadcast over the radio and the police teletypes. I’ve brought some pictures from the Rogues Gallery that I want you to try to identify.”

For the next fifteen minutes Enid studied photographs of noted criminals known to have records for kidnapping, but as each was presented to her, she only shook her head.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. You see, I caught such a fleeting glance of the two men.”

After the detective had returned to shore somewhat disappointed at her failure to identify any of the photographs, Rex said that he too must leave.

“Surely, you girls aren’t intending to stay here alone tonight?” he inquired.

Enid and Madge had made no plans but now that they considered it, they were reluctant to leave the yacht. Rex suggested that his mother would be pleased to have them stay at the Stewart home, but the girls felt they could not accept.

“We might possibly get word from Father during the night,” Enid explained, “and anyway, the cook and our sailors will be coming back early in the morning. I must be here to tell them what has happened.”

“I wish you had asked for a police guard,” Rex returned with a troubled frown. “I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone.”

“We’re not cut off from the mainland now that we have the motor boat,” Madge pointed out. “Honestly, we’re not a bit afraid.”

In the end they persuaded him to their way of thinking, but as he left, he announced that he intended to keep watch of the yacht during the early part of the night.

As it grew dusk, Madge prepared supper. Enid tried to help but could not keep her mind on what she was doing. After wiping the dishes, they wrapped themselves in steamer rugs and sat out on deck. For a long time they watched the twinkling shore lights. Once they heard the drone of an airplane overhead and imagined that it might be Rex.

In spite of their declaration to the contrary, the girls were not entirely easy in their minds. The very quiet of the yacht was disturbing. The night had closed in dark and threatening; black shadows lurked everywhere.

At ten o’clock they decided to turn in. Enid was so tired and worn out that she dropped asleep almost at once. Madge rolled and tossed for the better part of an hour. At last, she too dozed off.

She had no way of knowing how long she slept, but suddenly she found herself sitting upright in bed. What had awakened her? She glanced at her companion. Enid was sleeping peacefully.

After a moment, she sank back against the pillows, but scarcely had her eyes closed than she was startled by a peculiar sound. A boat was scraping against the side of the yacht!

Cold shivers ran over her body and she resisted the temptation to burrow down beneath the blankets.

“Enid, wake up!” she whispered, shaking her chum roughly by the arm.

Enid stirred and as she was shaken again, opened her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” she murmured drowsily.

“Hush!” Madge warned in an undertone. There was no need to say more for by this time Enid had fully awakened.

Both girls listened intently. Footsteps could be heard plainly on the deck. Someone had boarded the boat!

“Perhaps it’s one of the sailors,” Enid whispered, but her voice quavered.

“We must see!” Madge returned. “Come on!”

Enid gripped her hand and tried to hold her back. “Oh, I’m afraid!”

“Then I’ll go alone.”

But Enid would not stay behind. As Madge quietly slipped out of bed, she was close beside her. Clinging together, they crept to the door and listened. They could hear the footsteps more distinctly now.

Madge opened the cabin door a crack and peered out. At first she saw nothing, then as her eyes became more accustomed to the dark, she beheld the figure of a man. She saw him pause, look searchingly about and then swiftly enter Mr. Burnett’s cabin.

For an instant she was too startled to move. Then she whispered into her chum’s ear.

“Now is our chance! We must steal out there and lock him in!”

CHAPTER VII
A Motor Boat Chase

Madge quietly opened the door and moved stealthily toward Mr. Burnett’s cabin. Enid, terrified at the thought of remaining behind, followed.

They stole softly along the deck, every muscle tensed for the unexpected. Madge stepped over a coil of rope in her path and too late turned to warn her chum. Enid failed to see it. She stumbled and fell flat on the deck, letting out a sharp exclamation.

Before she could regain her feet, a figure darted from Mr. Burnett’s cabin. He went over the railing like a flash and was lost to view.

“Oh, we mustn’t let him get away!” Madge cried.

She jerked Enid to her feet and they reached the railing just in time to see a motor boat speed away from the yacht.

“Enid, can you run your father’s motor boat?” she demanded.

“Yes, but——”

“Then come on! Our only chance of tracing your father is to follow this man!”

Rex had filled the tank of the motor boat that afternoon, but it required several minutes before Enid had the engine going. Madge cast off and they moved away from the yacht.

“To the right!” she directed. “I saw him head that way.”

Enid swung the wheel and they made for the open water. The boat rapidly gathered speed until the sea split from under her prow in huge waves.

“Can you see him, Madge?”

“Dead ahead. He has the engine muffled.”

“Then we’ll lose him if we’re not careful.”

“Can’t you go faster?”

Enid shook her head.

For a few minutes longer they kept the boat in sight but it was increasingly apparent that they were running a losing race. The man they were following knew the channels and his boat was fast. Soon he was swallowed by the night.

After it was evident that they had lost him, Enid stopped the engine. They listened for a few minutes but there was no sound of a motor boat.

“I guess we may as well turn back!” Madge said in disgust.