Boy Scouts of the Air on Lost Island Part 4

CHAPTER IV

MORE THRILLS

It was only a bare few seconds before the floating object had pa.s.sed within the shadow of the bridge, but there could be no doubt about it; it was a boat, riding so low that only her outline showed. Jerry rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but for only an instant. Then he sprang to the other side of the bridge, shedding hat, coat, trousers, s.h.i.+rt and shoes, on the way. So, at least, it seemed to Dave, who caught his chum's arm, as Jerry poised himself, his body white and gleaming in the moonlight, on the high rail that ran along the edge.

"What you going to do, Jerry? It's a good thirty feet to the water--and you don't know how deep it is down there."

"I'm diving shallow, Dave; two feet is all I ask below. We can't take any chances of losing her. Carry my clothes along the bank, will you?

I'll try to make the east side--it looks a little closer."

In the few seconds they had talked, the boat had drifted under the bridge and now cut through the silver-edged shadow of the last timbers.

There was a quiver of the flimsy railing, a slender body cut through the moonlight, parted the water with a clean _sus.h.!.+_ and bobbed up almost immediately, within three feet of the boat. Jerry Ring did not have the reputation of being the best diver in Watertown for nothing.

Now ensued a great kicking and churning as Jerry's legs transformed themselves into propellers for the salvaged "_Big Four_." Progress was slow; the waterlogged craft lay in the river like so much cordwood.

More than once Jerry had to stop for a few minutes' rest. But little by little he neared sh.o.r.e, encouraged by Dave, who impatiently awaited the landing, wading out finally waist-deep to help.

Neither one said a word as the boat was at last beached. No more than the barest glance was needed to tell that there was nothing in the boat but water. Theirs had been a fruitless chase.

"Well," said Dave, slowly, after a long silence, "I guess that ends our last hope."

"I'm afraid you're right," agreed Jerry dejectedly. "But there's one thing that puzzles me--do you notice how much water there is in the boat? It's a good ten inches from the top--how full would it have been when she popped up from under the falls at the dam?"

"She'd have been right up to the top, I suppose. Why?"

"Well, what I want to know is: How did it get out? And, what's more, I'd like to know how it would have taken the boat all these hours to float those few miles. Plum Run's got a six mile an hour current up above, and it's at least four here. There's something mighty funny about it all to me."

"But mightn't it just have been snagged or shoaled up above, and finally worked loose?"

"Sure, I know that. But I know the boat was drifting about as fast as we were walking, and that being the case, she must have cleared Lost Island just about three minutes after we talked with that man!"

"You're getting excited, Jerry--over nothing."

"Nothing! You call the water that was _baled_ out of the boat nothing.

It _was_ baled out, I tell you. And look at that rope--it was _cut_ loose. Somebody was in too big a hurry to untie knots, that's my guess."

"But, Jerry, what in the world are you driving at, anyway!"

"I don't know. Something about the way that man back there on Lost Island acted set me thinking away in the back of my head. I didn't realize what it was that was going on in my cranium until I noticed this cut rope and say!" Jerry's voice rose in high excitement. "_Dave!_ Dave--do you remember? The _bucket!_"

Dave only stared at his friend in bewilderment. "Wha--what bucket?" he at last managed to gasp.

"You remember last week when we were out, and the storm caught us and pretty nearly swamped the boat? Tod said he'd bet we'd never be caught without a bailing can again--and he put a lard pail on a snap hook under the back seat. It's gone!"

"But what if--why, pshaw, it could easy have worked loose and floated away. I don't see what there is to be so worked up about."

"But, Dave, don't you see----" Jerry was trembling with excitement.

"Suppose Tod _had_ stayed in the boat, and he came to, and he didn't have any oars. First off he'd try to bale her out, wouldn't he? He'd bale out just enough so she'd ride easy, and then he'd try to get to sh.o.r.e. Maybe he landed on Lost Island. Suppose he did, and suppose that ruffian we saw didn't want him to get off again. What else would the man do but cut loose the boat when we came along!"

"Jerry, don't you think we'd better be getting on home?"

"What's the matter with you, Dave?"

"Why, nothing, Jerry----"

"Then what you talking about going on home when I'm running down a clew like that?"

"It's almost morning, Jerry, and you've had a hard day and been up all night--and the lonesome chase through the dark----"

"Now look here, Davie! If you think I'm getting soft in the head, just forget it. I never was more in earnest in my life. Don't you understand? I think Tod's alive--_back there on Lost Island!_"

"But we don't know he was in the boat----"

"Look here, Dave, if you were falling, what'd be the first thing you'd do? You'd grab at the nearest thing to you, wouldn't you! And if you got hold of that boat-seat, for instance, you'd pretty near hang on, wouldn't you? I saw _something_ in the bottom of the boat when she came up."

"Yes, but we don't know the boat touched Lost Island----"

"No, of course not. But most always when I see a sign that says 'No fis.h.i.+ng allowed,' I know there's fish there."

"You certainly talk as if you were out of your head. What's fis.h.i.+ng got to do with it?"

"The man was not overly anxious to have us come out and make a search of _his_ island. I'm going back up there and I'm going to swim across or _get_ across and I'm going to find out what he has there he doesn't want us to see. Are you game to go along?"

"But supposing there's nothing there, and the man----"

"That island doesn't belong to anybody. We've got as much right there as he has. The worst he can do is to kick us off, and there's only one of him against _two_ of us. Come on."

Before they left, however, they tipped their boat over and emptied out nearly all the water. Then, as they had no oars to row her back, they tied her by the short length of rope left, to a stout willow. Jerry resumed his clothing, and s.h.i.+vering a bit in the cool morning air, was eager to warm up with a good brisk walk.

They were on the east side of the river, and the trail would have been hard enough even in broad daylight, but Jerry would waste no time in crossing over when a few minutes later they halted at the bridge. Home lay on the other side of the river, and Dave, still unconvinced, stubbornly insisted on following the west bank, but Jerry soon cut short the argument by striding off in disgust. After a minute of uncertainty Dave tagged along behind. Neither spoke; to tell the truth, they were both decidedly cold, hungry and cross. The damp, fishy smell of the river somehow set their nerves on edge, and the long drill through swamps and across creeks and sloughs appeared none too enticing.

"I say, Jerry," called Davie finally, "let's stop for a breath of air; I'm about petered out."

"Can't," replied Jerry shortly. "Sky's getting gray now. We've got to get _there_ before daylight. If we can catch our friend on the island asleep it'll make things a lot easier. Pull your belt up a notch and see if you can't put the notch into your legs."

Dave grumbled but obediently hastened his gait. In single file they cut across the last stretch of knee-deep mud and halted opposite Lost Island. There it lay, beyond the narrow stretch of steaming, misty black water, dark and forbidding. There was something s.h.i.+very about its low-lying-heavy outline, with nothing visible beyond the border of thick willow growth.

"Looks like some big crouching animal, doesn't it?" remarked Dave as they stood an instant peering across.

"Well, we know it can't spring--and it won't bite, I guess."

"I'm not so sure. How are we going to get over?"

"Swim it, unless--no, I guess we won't swim--not, at least, if there's a pair of oars in that flat-boat I see yonder. Funny we didn't stumble over it when we came down."

"Maybe it wasn't here then. Maybe the man came over in it. We better not stand here in the open. We don't know what minute he might be back."