CHAPTER IV
MORE THRILLS
It was only a bare few seconds before the floating object had passedwithin 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 rubbedhis eyes in disbelief, but for only an instant. Then he sprang to theother side of the bridge, shedding hat, coat, trousers, shirt andshoes, on the way. So, at least, it seemed to Dave, who caught hischum's arm, as Jerry poised himself, his body white and gleaming in themoonlight, on the high rail that ran along the edge.
"What you going to do, Jerry? It's a good thirty feet to the water--andyou don't know how deep it is down there."
"I'm diving shallow, Dave; two feet is all I ask below. We can't takeany 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 thebridge and now cut through the silver-edged shadow of the last timbers.
There was a quiver of the flimsy railing, a slender body cut throughthe moonlight, parted the water with a clean _sush!_ and bobbed upalmost immediately, within three feet of the boat. Jerry Ring did nothave the reputation of being the best diver in Watertown for nothing.
Now ensued a great kicking and churning as Jerry's legs transformedthemselves into propellers for the salvaged "_Big Four_." Progress wasslow; 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 bylittle he neared shore, encouraged by Dave, who impatiently awaited thelanding, wading out finally waist-deep to help.
Neither one said a word as the boat was at last beached. No more thanthe barest glance was needed to tell that there was nothing in the boatbut water. Theirs had been a fruitless chase.
"Well," said Dave, slowly, after a long silence, "I guess that ends ourlast hope."
"I'm afraid you're right," agreed Jerry dejectedly. "But there's onething that puzzles me--do you notice how much water there is in theboat? It's a good ten inches from the top--how full would it have beenwhen 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 tofloat those few miles. Plum Run's got a six mile an hour current upabove, and it's at least four here. There's something mighty funnyabout it all to me."
"But mightn't it just have been snagged or shoaled up above, andfinally worked loose?"
"Sure, I know that. But I know the boat was drifting about as fast aswe were walking, and that being the case, she must have cleared LostIsland 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 LostIsland acted set me thinking away in the back of my head. I didn'trealize what it was that was going on in my cranium until I noticedthis 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?" heat last managed to gasp.
"You remember last week when we were out, and the storm caught us andpretty nearly swamped the boat? Tod said he'd bet we'd never be caughtwithout a bailing can again--and he put a lard pail on a snap hookunder the back seat. It's gone!"
"But what if--why, pshaw, it could easy have worked loose and floatedaway. 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'thave any oars. First off he'd try to bale her out, wouldn't he? He'dbale out just enough so she'd ride easy, and then he'd try to get toshore. Maybe he landed on Lost Island. Suppose he did, and suppose thatruffian we saw didn't want him to get off again. What else would theman 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 clewlike that?"
"It's almost morning, Jerry, and you've had a hard day and been up allnight--and the lonesome chase through the dark----"
"Now look here, Davie! If you think I'm getting soft in the head, justforget it. I never was more in earnest in my life. Don't youunderstand? 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'ddo? You'd grab at the nearest thing to you, wouldn't you! And if yougot 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 cameup."
"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 'Nofishing allowed,' I know there's fish there."
"You certainly talk as if you were out of your head. What's fishing gotto do with it?"
"The man was not overly anxious to have us come out and make a searchof _his_ island. I'm going back up there and I'm going to swim acrossor _get_ across and I'm going to find out what he has there he doesn'twant 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 thereas he has. The worst he can do is to kick us off, and there's only oneof him against _two_ of us. Come on."
Before they left, however, they tipped their boat over and emptied outnearly all the water. Then, as they had no oars to row her back, theytied her by the short length of rope left, to a stout willow. Jerryresumed his clothing, and shivering a bit in the cool morning air, waseager to warm up with a good brisk walk.
They were on the east side of the river, and the trail would have beenhard enough even in broad daylight, but Jerry would waste no time incrossing over when a few minutes later they halted at the bridge. Homelay on the other side of the river, and Dave, still unconvinced,stubbornly insisted on following the west bank, but Jerry soon cutshort the argument by striding off in disgust. After a minute ofuncertainty Dave tagged along behind. Neither spoke; to tell the truth,they were both decidedly cold, hungry and cross. The damp, fishy smellof the river somehow set their nerves on edge, and the long drillthrough 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 toget _there_ before daylight. If we can catch our friend on the islandasleep it'll make things a lot easier. Pull your belt up a notch andsee if you can't put the notch into your legs."
Dave grumbled but obediently hastened his gait. In single file they cutacross the last stretch of knee-deep mud and halted opposite LostIsland. There it lay, beyond the narrow stretch of steaming, mistyblack water, dark and forbidding. There was something shivery about itslow-lying-heavy outline, with nothing visible beyond the border ofthick willow growth.
"Looks like some big crouching animal, doesn't it?" remarked Dave asthey 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'sa pair of oars in that flat-boat I see yonder. Funny we didn't stumbleover it when we came down."
"Maybe it wasn't here then. Maybe the man came over i
n it. We betternot stand here in the open. We don't know what minute he might be back."
"Well, if it is his boat, at least we don't need to worry about runningonto him over there on the island."
"You're going to swim over, aren't you, Jerry? If the man came alongand found his boat gone, he'd know _we_ were over there and----"
"And he'd be stranded on this side until we were so kind as to bringback his boat. You can bet _he_ isn't going to swim over, and I bet youI don't either."
The boat proved to be a cumbersome flat-boat of the type used byclam-fishers. In fact the smell that simply swirled up from its oozybottom left no doubt that the boat had been used for that purpose. Apair of unbelievably heavy oars, cut from a sapling with a hand-axe,trailed in the water from "loose oarlocks." Dave gave a gasp of dismayas he "hefted" the rough implements.
"Let's swim it, Jerry," he said disgustedly. "The boat'll never hold upthe oars and us too. They weigh a ton."
"Pile in," answered Jerry, with the first laugh since that tragicmoment when he had seen a different boat swept over the dam many wearymiles up the river. "We'll each take an oar and try some two-handedrowing. This craft was built for ocean-going service. Hold tight; we'reoff."
But they weren't. Jerry's mighty push ended in a grunt. "Come on; getout here and shove."
"Maybe if we took the oars out we could start her," Dave jibed. "I hopeyou've got a freight-hauling license."
"Get out and push. Your witty remarks are about as light as those youngtree-trunks we have for paddles. All together now!" as Dave bent overbeside him. A lurch, a grinding, thumping slide, and the flat-boat slidfree of shore.
"It's a mighty good thing if that man isn't on the island," remarkedDave as he took up his half of the propelling mechanism. "Because whenour craft took the water she certainly did 'wake the echoes of yonwooded glen,' as the poet says."
"Poetry's got nothing to do with this boat. It doesn't rhyme withanything but blisters. Let's see if we can move her."
Thanks to some tremendous tugging, the flat-boat moved slowly out fromshore. Inch by inch, it seemed, they gained on the current.
"The old tub's got speed in her," grunted Jerry, between sweeps of hisoar.
"Ought to have it _in_ her," returned Dave. "I'll bet you nobody evergot it _out_ of her. Ugh!"
"Always grunt out toward the back of the boat--keep your head turned.It helps us along."
"I've only got one grunt left; I'm saving it. How far have we gone?"
"All of ten feet. I'll tell you when we hit the island. Lift your oarout of water when you bring it back. The idea is to move the boat, notmerely to stir up the water."
So they joked each other, but their hearts were heavy enough, foralways in the back of their minds was the thought of their friend, who,in spite of the wild hope that Jerry had built up, might--_must_, Davewas sure--be lying at the bottom of treacherous Plum Run somewhere,drowned.
At last they seemed to be nearly halfway across, and they rested abrief spell, for every inch of their progress had to be fought for.
"All right," said Jerry, taking up his oar, "let's give her anothertussle."
But Dave did not move, although he still hunched over his oar.
"Come on, Dave," urged his friend. "We don't want to lose any time. Thesun ought to be up almost any minute now."
"Look behind you, old man. Right where we're headed, and tell me whatyou see."
Jerry turned in his seat. He took one quick glance toward Lost Island,now less than a hundred feet away, and then gave a low cry of dismay.