The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless Part 4

They were still some eight miles off Lonely Island when Hilton roused himself at sight of a low-hulled, black schooner scudding north under a big spread of canvas.

"You're going to pa.s.s close to that boat, aren't you, Captain?" asked the bridge deck pa.s.senger.

"Yes, sir; pretty close."

"As I understand it, you're going to land at an island some miles off the coast, whereas I wish to reach the mainland at the earliest possible moment, and catch a railway train. So, Captain, if you'll signal that schooner and put me aboard, I shall feel under sufficient obligation to hand you another ten-dollar bill."

That looked so much like earning money rapidly that Halstead called Joe up from the motor room to set the signal. The schooner lay to until overtaken. Hilton discovered that the schooner was bound for Beaufort, and the bargain was quickly completed. A small boat put off from the sailing vessel and the bridge deck pa.s.senger, his noticeable bag included, was transferred.

The "Restless" was nearer Lonely Island, and the schooner was hull down, when Captain Tom suddenly started as Joe Dawson stepped upon deck.

"Blazes, Joe!" exclaimed the young skipper. "I'm afraid we've done it!"

"I'm afraid so, too," came quietly from the young engineer.

"That fellow Hilton, so anxious to get ash.o.r.e, may be the very chap who struck down Mr. Clodis!"

"The thought had just come to me," admitted Joe.

"Yes! You know, Mr. Seaton hinted that the 'accident' might have been an attempt to kill."

Captain and engineer of the "Restless" stared disconcertedly at each other.

"Now, why did I have to go and make such a fearful stumble as that?"

groaned Tom.

"You didn't, any more than I did," Joe tried to console him.

"We should, at least, have kept Hilton aboard until Mr. Seaton had had a chance to look him over."

"I could send a wireless to the Beaufort police to grab Hilton on landing," suggested Joe, doubtfully, but Tom Halstead shook his head energetically.

"No; the Beaufort police wouldn't do that on our say-so, Joe. And, even if they did, we might get ourselves into a lot of trouble."

The "Restless" kept smoothly, swiftly on her way, bounding over the low, gentle swell of the calm ocean. Tom s.h.i.+vered whenever he thought of the possibility of the motors becoming cranky. With such important human freight aboard any mishap to the machinery would be extremely serious.

"Joe," called Tom, at last, as the yacht came in sight of Lonely Island, "there's a tug at our dock."

Dawson came on deck, taking the marine gla.s.s from his chum's hand.

"I guess Mr. Seaton has been hustling, then. He couldn't have come from Beaufort on the tug, after all the trouble of rounding up doctors. He must have come down the sh.o.r.e in an automobile, and then engaged the tug near the island."

As the "Restless" went closer, the tug, with two short toots of its whistle, moved out from the dock. Powell Seaton, in broad-brimmed hat and blue serge, waved his hand vigorously at the boys. With him stood three men, presumably surgeons. Captain Tom Halstead sounded three short blasts of the auto-whistle to signal the success of his errand, while Joe swung his uniform cap over his head.

"Get down to your engines, Joe," called Captain Tom. "I'm going to make a swift landing that will be in keeping with Mr. Seaton's impatience."

Up to within nearly two hundred yards of the dock the "Restless"

dashed in at full speed. Then signaling for half speed, next for the stop, and finally for the reverse, Captain Tom swung the yacht in almost a semi-circle, running up with bare headway so that the boat lay in gently against the string-piece. In that instant Tom, leaving the wheel, bounded up onto the dock, bow hawser in hand, and made the loop fast over the snubbing post. In the same instant Joe Dawson, cat-footed, raced aft, next leaping ash.o.r.e with the stern hawser.

"Jove, but that was a beautiful bit of boat-handling--a superb piece of seamans.h.i.+p!" muttered one of the surgeons, admiringly.

Powell Seaton, however, stopped to hear none of this. He gripped Tom by the arm, demanding hoa.r.s.ely:

"You brought Clodis ash.o.r.e? How is he? Where?"

"Still unconscious, sir, and the s.h.i.+p's doctor offered no hope. You will find your friend in the port stateroom, sir."

Signing to the surgeons to accompany him, Mr. Seaton vanished aft, the medical men with him. Ten minutes pa.s.sed before Hank came up, alone.

"What do the doctors say, Hank?" demanded Tom, instantly.

"One chance in about a million," replied Hank, in a very subdued voice--for him.

Five minutes later Mr. Seaton, hat in hand, also came up on deck.

"Mr. Seaton," murmured Tom, eagerly, "I've been waiting for you.

I--we've something to tell you." Then the young skipper detailed the affair of taking Arthur Hilton from the "Constant" and transferring him to the Beaufort-bound schooner.

"Describe the fellow!" commanded Powell Seaton, suddenly, hoa.r.s.ely.

Captain Tom did so.

"Arthur Hilton he called himself, did he?" cried Mr. Seaton, in a rage. "Anson Dalton is the scoundrel's real name!"

"Who is he, sir?" Tom asked, anxiously.

"Who is Anson Dalton?" cried Mr. Seaton, his voice sounding as though he were choking. "Who, but the scoundrel who has engineered this whole desperate plot against me! The dastard who struck down Allan Clodis!

The knave who has striven for the badge of Cain!"

CHAPTER III

INVISIBLE HANDS AT THE WIRELESS

In a rear bedroom, the furthest apartment from the wireless room of the bungalow, Allan Clodis, barely alive, was placed when they bore him up from the boat. Then the three surgeons, retaining only Hank b.u.t.ts, drove the others from the room.

"Back to the wireless!" breathed Seaton, tensely. "Dawson, get Beaufort on the jump."

"I have the Beaufort operator," reported Joe, after a few moments.

"Then rush this message, and ask the operator to get it in the hands of the chief of police without an instant's loss of time," directed Mr. Seaton, speaking in jerky haste.

The message described Anson Dalton, also the black schooner on which he had last been seen. The police chief was asked to arrest Dalton on sight, on the authority of Powell Seaton, and hold him for the United States authorities, for an attempt at homicide on an American s.h.i.+p on the high seas.

Within ten minutes back came the reply from Beaufort to this effect: