CHAPTER XI--WHERE THE WATER TRAIL ENDED
Horace Dunstan, pausing in his excited walk in his library, stopped andstared in amazement when Tom came to one point of his strange recital.
"Ted said I gave him instructions to go with that crowd?" he demanded.
"He made that point extremely plain to me, sir," Halstead insisted.
"But I--I never gave him any such instructions," cried Mr. Dunstan,rumpling his hair.
"It seemed unbelievable, sir. And yet your son struck me as a truthfulboy."
"He is; he always was," retorted the father. "Ted hated a lie or a liar,and yet this statement is wholly outside of the truth. I assure you----"
"If you'll permit me, sir," broke in the lawyer, who had been listeningsilently up to this point, "I'll indicate one or two points at whichyoung Halstead's most remarkable----"
"Crane," broke in the master of the house, with unlooked-for sternness,"if you're about to throw any doubt around Tom Halstead's story, I mayas well tell you plainly that you're going a little too far. Halsteadhas been most thoroughly vouched for to me. If you have any notion inyour mind that he has been yarning to us, I beg you to let the idearemain in your mind. I don't want to hear it."
"Hm!" said the lawyer, and subsided.
"Captain Halstead," went on Ted's father, "my son's statement is soextraordinary that I don't pretend to fathom it. But I give you my word,as a man of honor, that I am as much at sea in this matter as anyonecould be. But I must get in touch with Wood's Hole at once."
There was a telephone instrument in the room that speedily put thedistracted father in communication with one of his detectives over onthe mainland. A long talk followed, the upshot of it being that thedetective in charge of the search asked that the "Meteor" be sent overto Wood's Hole at once, that she might be ready for any sea-goingfollowing-up of clues that might be necessary.
"For, of course, we've got to find that cabin sloop," finished DetectiveMusgrave. "If the sloop isn't at sea, then the chase undoubtedly must befollowed on the mainland. If we have the 'Meteor' here we can do quicklyanything that may appear necessary."
So Tom received his instant sailing orders. As he hurried from thehouse, down through the grounds, the young skipper felt relieved at onepoint. With his belief in Ted's honesty he had been inclined to suspectthat Horace Dunstan, for some unknown reasons of his own, such, forinstance, as a distaste for having his son go into the Army, might havebrought about a pretended disappearance.
"But now I know," muttered Tom, "that Mr. Dunstan is just as honest inhis declarations as Ted appeared to be in saying the opposite. If HoraceDunstan has been lying to me just now, I'd have very little furtherfaith in human honesty."
The "Meteor" was speedily on her way. First Joe, and then Tom, wasserved in the little galley, Jed getting in his mouthfuls as best hecould before the motor boat was tied up at Wood's Hole.
Before Tom had time to land a keen-eyed, smooth-faced man ofthirty-five, broad-shouldered and a little above medium height, steppedforward out of the darkness and over the rail.
"Do you know me, Captain Halstead?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Yes, I think so," Tom answered. "You're Mr. Musgrave, one of thedetectives sent down from New York at Mr. Dunstan's request."
"I am in charge of the case at this point," said Musgrave. "Lead mebelow."
Tom conducted his caller down into the engine-room, thence through thepassageway into the cabin.
"Now, tell me all you can of this affair, and talk as quickly as youcan," directed the detective.
Tom told his brief but potent narrative without pausing for breath.
"I have telegraphed or telephoned men from our agency, so that manypoints are covered for some distance north along the coast," murmuredMr. Musgrave. "We are also having the islands watched as far around asBlock Island. But, since the launch was found running wild and the cabinsloop was not sighted, I am inclined to believe that the trail runssomewhere on the mainland. If you'll take your friend, Joe Dawson, alongwith you, I'll send also one of the Wood's Hole constables, a man namedJennison. If you run into any of that crew, Jennison has power to makearrests, and he's the sort of man who wouldn't back down before acannon. I have an automobile ready, and Jennison knows what's expectedof him. You're to search up along the coast, to see if you can find anytrace of that cabin sloop."
"Do you think Jed Prentiss will be sufficient guard to leave with theboat?" questioned Halstead. "The Alvarez crowd would like nothing betterthan to disable this fine craft if they got a chance to sneak aboard."
"I'll send down one of the hotel employes to keep Prentiss company,then. Now come along, Halstead. Jennison and the automobile arewaiting."
Two minutes later Tom and Joe found themselves speeding along a roadthat led up along the coast.
"There's no use stopping the first mile or so," explained ConstableJennison, a slight but wiry-looking man of rustic type. "We've been overthe near ground already. But we'll go forty miles or more before we giveup the search for the home berth of that sloop."
Just below Falmouth the auto-car turned from the road to run down to acove where several sailing craft and two launches were at anchor. Theowner was found. He did not own or know of any such sloop as Halsteaddescribed.
On again they went. There was a chauffeur on the front seat Theconstable and the boys were in the tonneau. Two more boat-lettingresorts were visited, but without success. The constable, however, farfrom being depressed, became jovial.
"Are you armed, Halstead?" he inquired, a twinkle in his eyes.
"No; I have no use for boys that carry guns," replied Tom.
"You're sensible enough," responded the constable seriously. Then,resuming his bantering tone, he went on:
"But you ought to be ready for anything to-night. Here, put this in yourpocket."
"What's this thing supposed to be good for?" Tom demanded dryly, as hetook from the officer a cheap little bronze toy pistol. It was modeledafter a business-like revolver, but a glance showed that it was meantonly to explode paper caps.
"It belongs to my five-year-old boy," laughed Jennison. "He knows that Ioften carry a pistol and he doesn't know the difference between a realone and his Fourth of July toy. So to-night, when I was leaving thehouse, he insisted on my taking his pistol and I had to in order to keephim quiet."
"It looks dangerous enough in the dark," remarked Joe, bending over andtaking the "weapon" with a laugh. He looked it over, then returned it toTom, who, in turn, offered it to the officer.
"Drop it in your pocket," said the latter. "It ought to make you feelbraver to feel such a thing next to your body."
With a laugh Tom did as urged. The automobile soon made another stop ata boatyard. Here, again, the search was useless, so they kept on. Afourth was visited with no better result. They were now ten miles fromWood's Hole, but they kept on. A mile further on the car descended a lowhill, toward the water, then turned almost at right angles. Just as theyrounded this bend in the road Halstead leaned suddenly forward.
"Stop!" he called to the chauffeur.
"What's the matter?" asked Jennison, as the car halted.
"As we came around the bend the searchlight threw a ray between thetrees, and I'm sure I saw a cabin sloop down in the offing," Tomexplained.
"_I_ didn't see it."
"And I got only a brief glimpse," Halstead rejoined. "But don't youthink it's worth our while to get out and go down to the water's edge?"
"Of course," nodded the constable. The three piled out of the tonneau,leaving the chauffeur alone. Tom led the way, going straight between thetrees down to the water.
"That's the very sloop, I'd almost swear," whispered Tom, pointing to acraft at anchor a hundred yards or so from shore. A small boat layhauled up on the beach. Not far from where the three stood was aramshackle little shanty from which no light shone.
"We'll give our attention to the house, first," declared the constable.Accordingly they stepped up to the door, Jenniso
n knocking loudly. Frominside came a snore. The summons had to be repeated before a voiceinside demanded:
"Who's there? What's wanted?"
"A traveler who wants to speak with you," replied the officer.
There were sounds inside. Then the door opened. They were confronted bya white-haired old man, partly dressed and holding a lighted lantern. Hemade a venerable picture as he stood there in the doorway.
"Well?" he asked.
"That's your sloop out in the offing?" Jennison asked.
"Yes."
"Did you use her to-day?"
"No; I rented her to a stranger, who wanted to go fishing. I didn't knowhe had returned. Said he might be out most of the night, and the sloopwasn't back when I turned in at dark."
"Wasn't, eh?" asked the constable, with quick interest. "Now will youtell me what the stranger looked like?"
"Why, he was about forty-five, I guess. Rather heavily built. His skinwas well-bronzed----"
"That's the man, French," whispered Tom, nudging the officer. "His facehad been stained a good bronze color."
"Did the stranger give any word about coming back at some other time?"asked Jennison.
"No; he paid me for the afternoon and the evening," replied the old man.It was plain that he had told all he knew about the stranger. The oldman stated that he himself was a fisherman, but that in summer he oftenmade more money taking out parties of summer boarders.
Joe, in the meantime, had gone down to the beach to watch the sloop.There appeared to be no one stirring aboard the craft, but, as aprecaution, Jennison and the boys rowed out, thus making sure that thesloop was deserted. They hurriedly returned to shore. Jennison nowdisplayed his badge, asking permission to look into the shanty. The oldman readily gave the permission, adding, somewhat shakily:
"I'm not used to having my house suspected, but I'm glad to give thelaw's officer any privileges he may want here."
The search was unavailing. Jennison and his young companions hastenedback to the automobile where they stood deliberating.
"That sloop has come in since dark," observed Halstead. "That old manlooks as though he could be thoroughly believed. Yet that's the verysloop. I'm positive about that. So the rascals can't have had much thestart of us."
"They're a needle in the haystack, now, anyway," sighed ConstableJennison. "We're at the end of the water trail and we know where theylanded."
"But we also know that they're on the mainland; at least it looks mightycertain," suggested Tom Halstead.
"That's true," nodded the officer. "Well, Mr. Musgrave must know of thisat once. The next village is less than three miles away. I'm going therein the auto as fast as I can and telephone him."
"You'll come back this way?" hinted Tom.
"Yes, without a doubt."
"Then leave us here. We'll hunt for any signs we can find of them whileyou're gone."
"But how'll I find you on my return?"
"Why, if you stop here, and honk your horn twice, we'll come running toyou."
"You might run into the rascals," mused Jennison.
"I hope we do," muttered Tom.
"See here," demanded the officer curiously, "aren't you boys afraid totake a chance like this?" His glance fell on Joe Dawson.
"No," returned Joe very quietly.
"Well, it may not be a bad idea to leave you here until I return," saidJennison briskly. "You may pick up some sign. Anyway, I hope you don'tget into any trouble. Good-by for a few minutes."
The car sped out of sight, but neither boy waited to watch it.
"It's a pretty fair guess, Joe," said Tom, "that Alvarez and French cameup this way from the shore. Now, that way, the road leads to Wood'sHole. And there's the opposite direction. Alvarez has a little foot likea woman's; French has a very large foot. Now if we can find two suchfoot marks together, it would look as though we could find the directionour men have taken. Have you any matches?"
"Plenty," Dawson replied.
"So have I. Then suppose you go that way," pointing toward Wood's Hole."And I'll go the other way. We can light matches every two or threehundred feet and examine the ground. One of us may pick up the trail wewant to find."
"Good enough," was all that came from quiet Joe, as he started at once.
For a few minutes the boys could see each other's lights when matcheswere struck. Then the winding of the road hid them from each other.
Twice the young skipper had found imperfect footprints in the sandyroad, but they were not clear enough for him to be sure that these werethe tracks he sought. Now Tom stopped again, striking a match andwalking slowly along as he shielded the flame from the light breeze withhis hands. Then suddenly he came to a brief halt, as his gaze traveledacross the road. He saw an object on the ground in front of a bush, anobject that caused him to bound across the road.
"Great! Fine!" breathed the boy jubilantly. "I'd know this littlearticle anywhere. It's the tobacco pouch of----"
"Ah, good evening, my friend," broke in a taunting voice. "It's themeddling boy himself!"
Halstead, even before he could straighten up, found himself staringbetween the branches of the bush into a pair of gleaming, mocking eyes.
"Senor Alvarez!" cried the young skipper.
Then something struck Tom heavily from behind, felling him to theground, unconscious.