Chapter 21

TELLS OF THE SEARCH FOR THE VAGABOND

“Are you sure you left her here?” asked Tom. “Don’t be a fool, Tommy, if you can help it,” answered Bob shortly. “Of course we’re sure.”

“Then—where is she?”

“Well, if we knew we wouldn’t be standing here answering your idiotic questions,” replied Nelson. After which he and Bob, each having sat on Tom, regained some of their equanimity.

“You don’t suppose anyone has swiped her, do you. Nel?” Bob asked anxiously.

“Looks like it,” was the answer. “Only—how could they get in to start the engine?”

“Are you sure you locked the door?”

“Positive. And here’s the key. And the only other one is in the cabin, unless Dan has it; he had it a couple of days ago.”

“They might have burst the locks, I suppose,” said Bob. But Nelson looked doubtful.

“They might break the padlock on the hatch, but the door lock is a pretty stiff one to get at. I suppose they might have picked it, though.”

“Maybe they didn’t start the engine,” said Tom. “Maybe they just towed her away as she was.”

“That’s right, Tommy!” exclaimed Bob. “That’s just about it. If she’s been stolen that’s the way they’ve done it. Besides, even if anyone could get the door open Barry wouldn’t let them stay in the engine room long enough to turn the wheel over. He’d scare ’em out in no time. He wouldn’t let anyone but you or Tommy or me go down those stairs.”

“Or Dan,” suggested Tom thoughtfully.

“Dan, of course,” answered Bob.

“And Dan had the other key, maybe,” continued Tom.

“Yes, I think so,” said Nelson. “By Jove, Tommy, you’re right! Perhaps Dan has gone off with her!”

“Nonsense!” said Bob. “He wouldn’t know how to start her, to say nothing of running her after she was started!”

“I’m not so sure,” answered Nelson. “He’s watched things pretty carefully lots of times, come to think of it. Besides, it wouldn’t make much difference to him whether he knew how or not. If he wanted to do it he would, and he’s a lucky beggar.”

“But could he have got back as early as this?” asked Bob.

“Let’s go over to the station and find out,” suggested Tom.

“You and Bob go,” Nelson said, “and I’ll see if I can find anyone around here who saw the Vagabond go out.” At the station Bob consulted the ticket agent.

“First train leaves New York at 4.54,” said the agent, “and arrives here at 9.45.”

“He wouldn’t take that,” said Bob to Tom. “He’d have to get up at four o’clock. Besides, we were at the wharf at a quarter to ten. What’s the next one?”

“Eight o’clock from New York, arriving here 10.45,” answered the agent. “Another at 10.00, arriving 12.45, another at 10.02, arriving——”

“Thanks,” interrupted Bob. “Those would be too late. There’s no train, then, except the 4.54 which gets here before 9.45?”

Their informant shook his head impatiently and they moved aside.

“That disposes of Dan,” said Bob. “It isn’t the least bit likely that he’d get up at four o’clock to take a slow train when he could wait until eight and get one reaching here only an hour later. And if he has taken the eight o’clock he won’t be here for nearly three quarters of an hour. So it looks as though some one had deliberately run off with the boat.”

“Gee!” said Tom. “Won’t we be in a fix? Do you suppose we’ll ever find it and get it back?”

“I don’t know,” replied Bob. “I should think, though, that a thirty-six-foot launch would be a pretty hard thing to hide.”

“But the fellow who took it could paint out the name and fix her up a little differently and no one could tell she was stolen.”

“Yes, if we gave him time. But what we’ve got to do now is to get busy. There’s Nel over there.”

Nelson’s report was not comforting. No one had seen the launch that morning, and one old fellow who had rowed across the river at seven o’clock and whose skiff was now tied at the end of the wharf declared that the launch had not been there when he arrived.

“That means,” said Nelson, “that she’s been stolen some time in the night. The man over at the ferry slip says I ought to tell the police and the harbor master at once and telephone up to Norwich and to New Haven and Stonington. So I guess we’d better get busy. Of course they could tow the launch over to some place on Long Island just as easily as they could take her to New Haven, and we can’t very well telephone there, I suppose.”

“Of course you can,” said Bob. “They’ll give you connection at New York. But I think you might as well save your money. If she’s been stolen there’s just one place the thief will take her to, and that’s New York or somewhere around there.”

“Maybe,” replied Nelson dolefully. “Thunder! If we don’t find her I’ll hate to go back home and face the pater!”

“We’ll find her,” said Bob earnestly. “Do you know where the police hang out?”

“Yes, the man told me where to go,” answered Nelson as they left the wharf.

“If she was towed away,” said Tom, “they must have used a launch, I suppose.”

“Probably,” Bob agreed. “They wouldn’t be likely to use a rowboat and a sailboat wouldn’t be much better. If the wind died out they’d be caught.”

“Unless they started early last night and got over to Long Island or down the shore somewhere while it was dark,” said Nelson. “They might put in at some little out-of-the-way place and no one would think of looking for them.”

“Well, if it was a launch,” said Tom, “wouldn’t it be a good plan for the police to find out whether any launch is missing?”

“I should think it would,” said Bob, and Nelson agreed. “We’ll suggest it to them. Have you any more of those clever ideas, Tommy?”

“Well; I think we ought to hire a boat of some sort, a launch if we can find one, and hunt around ourselves. It wouldn’t be much of a trick to run up to Norwich, and it wouldn’t take long to search the shore around here.”

“That’s a scheme!” cried Nelson. “Tommy, you’re a brick! It will keep us busy, besides, and I’d go crazy if I had to sit around the hotel here and wait for the police to do things!”

“How about money?” asked Bob.

“Thunder! That’s so! They’ve got our money, too! How much have you got, Bob?”

“Two or three dollars.”

“And I’ve got four-seventy-five,” said Tom.

“That’s about seven,” said Nelson, “and I’ve got about a dollar in change. Eight dollars won’t go very far, though, when it comes to telephoning all around the country and renting a launch!”

“You forget Dan,” said Bob. “He’s sure to have a lot of tin on him.”

“That’s right. And look here!” Nelson stopped and looked back toward the railroad station. “What time is it, Bob?”

“Almost half-past ten.”

“Then one of us ought to go back to the station and meet Dan. If he goes down there and finds the launch gone there’s no knowing where he will wander to. Will you go down and wait for him, Tommy? Tell him what’s up and hold him at the station until we get back.”

“All right,” answered Tom. “And we might be making inquiries about a launch, eh?”

“Yes, but be back on the platform by eleven.”

Tom retraced his steps to the station, leaving the others to go on in search of the police officials. He passed a fruit and candy store on the way and was sorely tempted to buy some of the latter, but he told himself resolutely that what money he had ought to be expended toward recovering the Vagabond and so fought off the temptation. The Mayflower Limited rolled in on time to the minute and Tom watched the steps of the long line of parlor cars in expectation of seeing Dan descend. But no Dan appeared. After making certain of this fact Tom went into the station and studied the time-table.

“Now he can’t get here until a quarter to one,” he said disgustedly. “And we need his money like anything! I dare say he didn’t want to pay the extra fare on the Limited, the stingy beggar!”

He went down to the wharf to make sure that Dan had not somehow managed to get off of the train on the other side and gone to look for the Vagabond. But the wharf was empty, and so Tom set out on the search for a launch to rent.

Twenty minutes later the three met again on the station platform, all more cheerful for having accomplished something. Bob reported smilingly that the wheels of justice were in motion and that already the local sleuths were on the trail. Nelson had sent telephone messages up and down the Sound and over to Long Island. Tom had found the very thing they wanted in the way of a launch.

“She’s a little bit of a thing, only eighteen feet long,” he explained, “but she can go like anything. And we can hire her for six dollars a day. I tried to make him take five, but he wouldn’t. She’s right up here at a wharf. Come on and look at her.”

The Sylph proved to be a very smart-looking little craft, built of white cedar and mahogany. Her engine took up a good deal of space, but there remained room for four passengers. The owner had built her himself and was very proud of her, so proud that when Bob and Nelson became enthusiastic over her lines and finish, and when he had learned why they wanted her, he voluntarily knocked off a dollar of the renting price.

“Call it five dollars for to-day and the same for to-morrow if you need her again,” he said. “I guess you can run the engine all right, but I’ll show you one or two things about it that you probably aren’t used to.”

The one or two things proved to be small improvements of his own devising and it took some time for Nelson to understand them. But at a quarter to twelve they had paid their five dollars and were in possession of the Sylph. They ran her down to the wharf where they had left the Vagabond and found that she went finely.

“Shall we wait for the 12.45 train and get Dan?” asked Nelson. “Or shall we leave word for him somewhere and start out now?”

“Let’s get at it as soon as we can,” answered Bob. “Dan can look out for himself.”

So Nelson was left in charge of the launch while Bob went to the station to telephone a message to the hotel in case Dan turned up there looking for them, and Tom hurried to the nearest store after crackers and cheese and cookies. For with only sixty cents left between them there was no use thinking about an elaborate luncheon. When they returned in the evening they would go to the hotel and live on credit until Nelson’s father sent them some money. Bob and Tom were soon back and the Sylph headed up the river.

Bob had been in favor of searching downstream and along the shore east and west of the river mouth first, but Nelson said he had a feeling that the Vagabond had been taken toward Norwich, and Tom threw his vote with Nelson’s. It wasn’t likely that the thief would leave the launch anywhere around the town, but they searched the waterfront thoroughly to be on the safe side and then ran across the river to the Groton shore. After a search there the Sylph was again headed upstream. Twice in the ensuing half hour they approached the east shore to examine boats which, seen from the middle of the river, seemed to bear some resemblance to the Vagabond. But in each case they were doomed to disappointment, the craft proving on closer acquaintance to be very little like their missing launch. They went slowly in order that they might search each bank of the stream carefully and at half-past one they had only reached the second bend in the river. For some time past they had seen no launches either in the stream or moored along the banks and Bob suggested that Nelson send the Sylph at a faster pace so that they would have more time to look around and make inquiries at Norwich before it was necessary to turn homeward.

“All right,” Nelson answered. “I guess she isn’t hidden around here anywhere.”

It didn’t seem likely, for the banks were devoid of coves, and field and forest came straight down to the water’s edge. Nelson was just reaching forward to advance the spark, and the Sylph was just swinging around the turn in the river, when Tom began to sputter.

“Lu-lu-lu-lu-look!” he cried.

“Where?” asked Nelson and Bob with one voice, turning their heads excitedly from side to side. Tom pointed across the stream toward the west bank.

“Th-th-there! Su-su-su-see that bu-bu-bu-boat under the tu-tu-tu-trees?”

“Jove!” exclaimed Bob.

“The Vagabond!” cried Nelson, turning the wheel over fast.

“Looks like it,” said Bob excitedly, “but what’s she doing there? I don’t believe it is her after all, Nel.”

“I know it is,” was the reply as the Sylph, headed obliquely across the river, chugged her fastest. “I’d know her anywhere!”

“Wu-wu-wu-well,” stuttered Tom, “I du-du-du-don’t pr-pretend to knu-knu-know the bu-bu-boat, bu-bu-but I knu-knu-know the du-du-du-du-dog!”

“He’s right,” exclaimed Bob. “That’s Barry on the cabin roof!”

“Then they did get into the engine room,” said Nelson, his eyes fixed intently on the distant craft, “and they didn’t tow her. I wish,” he added, “that we had that revolver of yours, Bob.”

“So do I,” answered Bob gravely.

The little Sylph, as though comprehending the impatience of those she carried, dashed across the river.