The Yacht Club Part 38

"I am ready, sir."

"I will go with you," added Captain Patterdale; "and we will take the Sea Foam."

Donald was permitted to go home and comfort his mother with the a.s.surance that he was entirely innocent of the crime with which he was charged; and great was the joy of his mother and sister. The mainsail of the Sea Foam was hoisted when he went on board. The wind was rather light, and it was midnight before the yacht anch.o.r.ed off Turtle Head.

The party went ash.o.r.e in the tender, the sheriff carrying a lantern and a shovel. Donald readily found the place where the earth had been disturbed by Laud's clam-digger. Mr. Beardsley dug till he came to a rock, and it was plain that no tin box was there.

"But I am sure that Laud had been digging here, for I saw the print of his clam-digger," said Donald.

"This hole had been dug before," added the sheriff.

"Even Laud Cavendish would not be fool enough to bury the box in such an exposed place as this," suggested Captain Patterdale.

"I know he came down here on the day the box was stolen," said Donald, "and that he was here with his clam-digger on the day I met Captain s.h.i.+vernock. He must have put those papers in the shop."

"If the box was ever buried here, it has been removed," added the captain.

"Just look at the dirt which came out of the hole," continued Mr.

Beardsley, pointing to the heap, and holding the lantern over it. "What I threw out last is beach gravel. That was put in to fill up the hole after he had taken out the box. When he first buried it, he had to carry off some of the yellow loam. In my opinion, the box has been here."

"It is not here now, and we may as well return," replied Captain Patterdale. "I am really more desirous of finding the papers in the box than the money."

"He has only chosen a new hiding-place for it," said the sheriff. "If we say nothing, and keep an eye on him for a few days, we may find it."

As this was all that could be done, the party returned to the city; and early in the morning Donald went to bed, to obtain the rest he needed before the great day. Possibly Mr. Beardsley slept some that night, though it is certain he was at Sat.u.r.day Cove, in Northport, the next forenoon. He had a "theory;" and when a man has a theory, he will sometimes go without his sleep in order to prove its truth or its falsity. Jacob Hasbrook was with him, and quite as much interested in the theory as the officer, who desired to vindicate his reputation as a detective. He had driven to the house of the victim of the outrage, and looked the matter over again in the light of the evidence obtained from the boat-builder.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MORE EVIDENCE. Page 299.]

"I have been trying to see Donald Ramsay," said Hasbrook. "I have been to his shop four times, but he's always off on some boat sc.r.a.pe. You say he saw Captain s.h.i.+vernock the next morning."

"Yes; and the captain didn't want to be seen, which is the best part of the testimony. If it was he, it seems to me you would have known him when he hammered you."

"How could I, when he was rigged up so different, with his head all covered up?" replied Hasbrook, impatiently. "The man was about the captain's height, but stouter."

"He was dressed for the occasion," added the sheriff, as he walked to the sh.o.r.e, where the skiff lay.

They dragged it down to the water,--for it was low tide,--and got into it. Beardsley had traced to the cove the print of the heavy boot, which first appeared in some loam under the window where the ruffian had entered Hasbrook's house. He found it in the sand on the sh.o.r.e; and he was satisfied that the perpetrator of the outrage had arrived and departed in a boat. He had obtained from the captain's boot-maker a description of his boots, but none corresponded with those which had made the prints in Northport and Lincolnville.

At the cove all clew to the ruffian had been lost; but now it was regained.

The sheriff paddled the skiff out from the sh.o.r.e in the direction of Seal Island. The water was clear, and they could see the bottom, which they examined very carefully as they proceeded.

"I see it," suddenly exclaimed Hasbrook, as he grasped the boat-hook.

"Lay hold of it," added the sheriff. "I knew I was right."

"I have it."

Hasbrook hauled up what appeared to be a bundle of old clothes, and deposited it in the bottom of the skiff. Mr. Beardsley had worked up his case very thoroughly, though it was a little singular that he had not thought to ask Donald any questions; but these investigations had been made when the boat-builder was at home all the time, and the detective did not like to talk about the case any more than was necessary. He had ascertained that Captain s.h.i.+vernock wore his usual gray suit when Donald saw him after the outrage, and he came to the conclusion that the ruffian had been disguised, for Hasbrook would certainly have known him, even in the dark, in his usual dress. They returned to the sh.o.r.e; and the bundle was lifted, to convey it to the beach.

"It is very heavy," said Hasbrook. "I suppose there is a rock in it to sink it."

"Open it, and throw out the rock," added the sheriff.

Instead of a rock, the weight was half a pig of lead, which had evidently been chopped into two pieces with an axe.

"That's good evidence, for the ballast of the Juno is pig lead," said Beardsley, as he stepped on the beach with the clothes in his hand.

They were spread on the sand, and consisted of a large blue woolen frock, such as farmers sometimes wear, a pair of old trousers of very large size, and a pair of heavy cow-hide boots.

"Now I think of it, the man had a frock on," exclaimed Hasbrook.

"That's what made him look stouter than the captain," added Beardsley, as he proceeded to measure one of the boots, and compare it with the notes he had made of the size of the footprints. "It's a plain case; these boots made those tracks."

"And here's the club he pounded me with," said Hasbrook, taking up a heavy stick that had been in the bundle.

"But where in the world did Captain s.h.i.+vernock get these old duds?"

mused the sheriff.

"Of course he procured them to do this job with," replied Hasbrook.

"That's clear enough; but where did they come from? He has covered his tracks so well, that he wouldn't pick these things up near home."

"There comes a boat," said the victim of the outrage, as a sail rounded the point.

"Get out of the way as quick as you can," added the sheriff, in excited tones, as he led the way into the woods near the cove, carrying the wet clothes and boots with him.

"What's the matter now?" demanded Hasbrook.

"That boat is the Juno; Laud Cavendish is in her, and I want to know what he is about. Don't speak a word, or make a particle of noise. If you do, he will sheer off; and I want to see the ballast in that boat."

Laud ran his craft up to the rocks on one side of the cove, where he could land from her; but as it is eleven o'clock, the hour appointed for the regatta, we must return to the city.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE GREAT RACE.

It was nine o'clock when Donald turned out on the day of the great regatta. He had returned at three in the morning, nearly exhausted by fatigue and anxiety. It was horrible to be suspected of a crime; and bravely as he had carried himself, he was sorely worried. He talked the matter over with his mother and sister while he was eating his breakfast.

"Why should Laud Cavendish charge you with such a wicked deed?" asked his mother.

"To save himself, I suppose," replied Donald. "But he won't make anything by it. He hid those papers in the shop within a day or two, I am sure, for I had my hand in the place where he put them, feeling for a brad-awl I dropped day before yesterday, and I know they were not there then. But he is used up, anyhow, whether we find the box or not, for he tells one story and Captain s.h.i.+vernock another; and I think Captain Patterdale believes what I say now. But the race comes off to-day, and if I lose it, I am used up too."

The boat-builder left the house, and went on board of the Maud, which lay off the shop. Samuel Rodman was on deck, and they hoisted the mainsail. The wind had hauled round to the north-west early in the morning, and blew a smas.h.i.+ng breeze, just such as Donald wanted for the great occasion. In fact, it blew almost a gale, and the wind came in heavy gusts, which are very trying to the nerves of an inexperienced boatman. The Pen.o.bscot, gayly dressed with flags, was moored in her position for the use of the judges.