CHAPTER XIX
THE KIDNAPPERS
Annapolis was full of excitement. It always is at this time of year, andthough the town is old, and though graduation scenes have been rehearsedfor more than sixty years, still the play is always fresh; young livesare about to go out and do their battle in the world, and friends cometo applaud them and to spend a few days with them, and to wish themGodspeed. And so visitors by thousands poured into the ancient city; andthe young men of Robert Drake's class had a sense of great importancebecause it was all to do honor to their graduation, now but a few weeksoff.
But it wasn't only at the Naval Academy that important matters werehappening at this time; for near Annapolis, events were occurring oftremendous import to a few people, and particularly so to a small,white-faced whimpering boy, seven years old.
Up the Severn River, some little distance before it reaches Round Bay,was an offshoot from the river. This offshoot, a small creek, by deviouswindings led through a desolate, untenanted, uncultivated, roadlessregion. Once, in the heyday of slavery, prosperous tobacco fieldsexisted where now there was a dense second growth of trees crowded by atangled underbrush impenetrable to man unless armed with a hatchet.Here, through an absolute wilderness, inhabited only by coons, squirrelsand hares, the little offshoot to the Severn took its unmolested way. NoMan's Creek it was called, and well named it was. Not even isolatednegroes' cabins were to be seen on its banks, and wild duck in theirseason, unmolested by the gun, here found a secure place.
But, completely hidden in this creek, disturbing visitors had recentlyappeared. In one of the sharp turns of No Man's Creek, and completelyhidden from view, was a covered gasoline launch. In it were three menand a small, weeping boy.
"We'll start to-night at eleven; it will be dark then, the moon sets atnine; and I'll be glad to have the thing over with. Jingo! I wish wehad never done this thing," said one of them, a red-bearded man ofuncertain age. "I'm sure no one followed us to Indian Landing; we landedthere at a time when nobody was awake. But it was a hard trip from thereacross lots to this place. I never would have found this spot if Iweren't so well acquainted about here. But I wish we could have got outlast night--confound that leaky gasoline tank--it dished us at the lastmoment. But we'll be out to-night sure--it will take us an hour to runby the Naval Academy, and two hours later we'll be across the bay and inKent Island--once there I'll be easy in my mind; we'll be absolutelysafe. And then we'll get ten thousand for our trouble. Stop your crying,Georgie, we're taking you to your father. Hello, Jim, what's that noise?I hear a man shouting!"
The red-bearded man jumped up and out of the boat; he ran up a bank andreturned in a moment. "We're caught," he cried hoarsely; "somebody hasseen us and has given us away. We'll have to leave instantly--cut thepainter! Hurry, start the engine--shove off the boat; we haven't amoment to lose!"
With zeal born of fear and desperation, the three men workedfrantically, and very soon the gasoline boat was chugging down thestream. And none too soon, for two men now standing near where thegasoline boat had been secured were shouting for them to return. Withpallid faces the three men confronted one another.
"What is to be done?" asked one.
"Let's land somewhere on Round Bay shore, turn the kid adrift and run,"ventured a second one. "We'll be caught in this boat; our only hope isto separate and each of us try to get away by himself."
"We'll do nothing of the kind," retorted the red-bearded man; "we willstick to this boat; we'll follow the original programme. What chancewould I have? That chap saw me plainly and everybody in six countieswould look for a man with red whiskers. No, sir! Those two men are lefton the shore; they are miles from a telephone; we'll be halfway acrossChesapeake Bay before they can communicate with anybody, and there areso many launches in the Severn River that we won't be noticed. That'sthe only thing to do, fellows."
"It's twenty years in prison if we're caught," remarked one with a gasp.
"Stop your sniveling! Cheer up! We'll be on the Eastern Shore to-night,and once there I defy anybody to find us."
These three men were the kidnappers of little Georgie Thompson.Seemingly their plans had been perfectly laid. Two of them had drivenfrom Baltimore in a roundabout way to a place near Indian Landing,arriving there at night. One of these, with Georgie, had stolen thatsame night to where the gasoline launch had been brought by the thirdman. The other had gone further on and turned adrift the horse and buggythey had driven from Baltimore and joined the launch later. Had it notbeen for the loss of the gasoline the boat would already have been onthe other side of Chesapeake Bay. More gasoline had been secured, andthis cowardly trio had determined to wait until dark before leavingtheir hiding-place.
The gasoline launch shot out of No Man's Creek and swung into theSevern River. Soon Round Bay was reached and the launch struck acrossthe centre of it and, keeping at equal distance from either shore, randown the river at full speed. They attracted no notice on their way andsoon the railroad bridge was passed, then the county bridge and theywere abreast of the Naval Academy grounds. No passing boats seemed atall interested in their movements, and the men felt easier. In but ashort time they would be out of the river and on their way acrossChesapeake Bay. Hardly a word had been spoken on this fast trip down theriver, but desperate fear gripped each man's heart. Little Georgie wasnow crying softly; he did not realize what was happening, did notcomprehend what these strange men were doing beyond their statement thatthey were taking him to his father, but they were a long time about itand he was hungry and uncomfortable. There was something terrifying init all to the little boy and now and again he would sob bitterly.
When opposite the lower part of the Naval Academy grounds the gasolineengine suddenly stopped. With a fierce exclamation of fear and rage thered-bearded man jumped to the engine and tried to start it again, butwith no success.
"Everything seems to be all right here," he said in a low, intense way;"the spark is all right,"--then in a voice of fright he said, "This cockdoesn't show there is any gasoline in the feed pipe; see if there is anyin the tank."
"Not a drop," exclaimed the other in a terrified voice; "this rottentank has sprung another leak."
"Get out an oar and make for that sloop," cried the red-bearded man.
Fifty feet away was a sloop yacht anchored; her sail was all spread,though the sheets were not belayed. A fresh breeze was blowing down theSevern; this helped the gasoline boat, and with the aid of the oars itwas soon alongside the sloop. "Jump aboard, quick with you," cried theleader; "come along, Georgie; run forward, Jim, and heave up the anchor;never mind our boat--we've no time to lose--I'll look out for the sheetsand helm."
With a practiced hand the man with the red beard grabbed the tiller.They found nobody aboard--but the sails being loosed and no small boatbeing alongside it was likely that a party to go sailing would soon bepulled off from the shore to the yacht.
The anchor was hove up to the bows in a moment, the head of the yachtswung round, the sails filled, and she was off with a bound.
With a critical eye the man at the helm trimmed the different sails, setthe trysail and then heaved a sigh of profound relief.
"I think we're safe," he said; "hello, there's a navy ship on the portbow, and another one several miles away on the starboard bow. I'll steerbetween--they don't know anything about us--they won't bother us."
While the superintendent of the Naval Academy was sitting at his deskthis same afternoon, his telephone bell rang.
"Hello, what is it?" he asked.
"Is this the superintendent?"
"Yes."
"This is Halstead, aboard the 'Santee.'"
"What is it, Halstead?"
"Sir, the quartermaster has reported that a gasoline launch wentalongside the 'Robert Centre' a few minutes ago and several people gotout of the launch and went aboard the yacht; the gasoline launch is nowdrifting down the river and the 'Robert Centre' is tearing out into thebay."
"Who were the people that got out of th
e launch?"
"The quartermaster says they were strangers. One was a man with a redbeard, and a little boy was along."
"Had anybody intended to take the 'Robert Centre' out to-day?"
"Yes, sir, Mr. Brooks and some friends of his. They are now being pulledout in the river in the 'Centre's' boat. What shall I do, sir?"
"Hoist the 'Robert Centre's' recall. Secure the gasoline launch and keepit awaiting my orders. Have the quartermaster keep a good lookout on the'Robert Centre' to see where she goes. Have you any steamer you couldsend for her?"
"No, sir, the 'Standish' is out with the 'Nevada.'"
"I think you'll find that the matter will be explained; it was probablya party of young officers out for a lark and a sail. Or it may have beensome friends of officers; it will no doubt come out all right."
Half an hour later the superintendent was again called up by thetelephone.
"This is the superintendent. What is it?" he asked.
"I am Detective Cross, a Pinkerton detective. I traced the kidnappers ofthe Thompson boy to No Man's Creek, near the Severn, below IndianLanding. They saw me and shoved their boat off in a hurry, and went downriver. The boy is with them. I've had a time finding a telephone in thisforsaken country; keep a lookout for a green gasoline launch; it has acabin in it--three kidnappers and Georgie Thompson were in the----" Butthe superintendent had heard enough and, ringing off the speaker, hecommenced to do some rapid telephoning on his own account.