The Motor Rangers on Blue Water by Marvin West - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XV.
 A FACE THAT TERRIFIED.

Before long, as the captain had foreseen, the wind decreased from the fresh breeze that had been blowing to a dead, glassy calm. The sea grew smooth and rippleless, while the sun shone down blistering on two becalmed vessels—the "Nomad" and the "Island Queen."

The latter lay rolling in the swell at about half-a-mile's distance when the wind finally gave out altogether. Her sails flapped idly against her masts, and, neglected as they were, she looked the very picture of desolation.

The "Nomad" was run as close as possible to the becalmed vessel, but lack of wind compelled her, too, to come to a standstill at the distance mentioned. One of the collapsible boats was at once gotten out from under the cockpit floor and the sections, of which it was composed, clamped together. Then it was hoisted on the davits upon which the boat, which had been swept away had hung, and dropped overboard.

An instant later Captain Akers, Nat, Joe, and Ding-dong Bell piled into it, leaving the rest on board the "Nomad." The three lads had been selected by the captain to accompany him, for, owing to the small size of the boat, it would have been impossible to accommodate more within her limited dimensions. Some disappointment was felt by the "stay-at-homes," but their work was cut out for them, too, as Captain Akers, before he left the ship, told them to be on the lookout with rifles, and in case any unforeseen things happened on the mysterious schooner to open fire on the attackers of the "Nomad" party.

For Captain Akers, for some reason or other, had quite made up his mind privately that they were going to meet with opposition in attempting to board the schooner. It was, therefore, somewhat of a shock to him when, after a long, hot pull, they reached the schooner's side to find that no human voice or presence opposed them.

The vessel rolled idly on the calm swells, without a sound to break the stillness all about her but the complaining of her sails and rigging. Nor after they had made fast the boat and boarded the vessel by the forechains did they encounter anything to give them pause.

The "Island Queen" seemed to be a typical craft of her kind. Flush decked with a white-painted galley forward right aft of the foremast and a commodious deck-house aft. Her decks were clean swept and showed no trace of disorder. Ropes were neatly coiled and everything seemed to be in apple-pie order.

"What can be the secret of this old derelict?" wondered Nat, in a subdued voice.

Somehow, since setting foot on the abandoned craft's decks, they had all felt constrained to speak in whispers. Even bluff Captain Akers was no exception to the general rule. There is something peculiarly impressive about treading the deck of an abandoned ship—a feeling both sinister and melancholy.

"Well," said Captain Akers, after he had glanced rapidly but comprehensively about him, "the state of her decks proves conclusively that there was no bloody mutiny on board, as I had begun to think."

"Maybe we can find out something by entering the cabin," suggested Joe Hartley.

"An excellent idea, Joe," approved the captain. "Forward then and, boys, have your pistols ready for instant use. We may encounter nothing and we may run across something that will put us on our mettle."

With rather disturbed nerves, and pulses that beat faster than usual, the boys followed Captain Akers aft. The door of the deck-house was unlocked and swung on its hinges rhythmically as the ship swayed on the rise and fall of the bosom of the Pacific.

"You go first," whispered Joe, shoving Nat forward.

"Well, I like that——" began Nat indignantly, but neither of the boys was required to test his nerve by being the first to enter the place. Captain Akers spared them that.

With a quick, light step, the old seaman made his way within, followed by the awe-struck boys.

But if they had expected to see anything remarkable in the cabin, they were disappointed. It was an entirely ordinary place. In the center, a swinging table covered with a red cloth. A few books on navigation of the Pacific were stuck on a shelf in one corner. Two staterooms opened off it astern, evidently for the occupancy of the captain and mate. But an investigation of these yielded no more results than had their scrutiny of the outer cabin.

The bed clothes in the bunks were tumbled about as if the occupants had left hastily and several articles of clothing lay scattered about in the same helter-skelter fashion. But that was all.

"No use looking any further here," announced Captain Akers, after a thorough examination of the place had been made. "This cabin is just such a one as you might find on board any schooner plying this ocean. I guess we were fooling ourselves on the mystery part of this."

"How about those screams?" asked Nat quickly.

Captain Akers looked rather foolish.

"By Jove, I forgot those!" he exclaimed. "That's so, they were terrible cries, but for all that this schooner shows to the contrary; we must have dreamed we heard them. I think——"

"Look there!" cried Nat suddenly, seizing the captain's sleeve and pointing through a porthole, which looked out on the deck.

The captain looked, but could see nothing. He turned to the boy who seemed strangely excited and was pale and trembling.

"What was it?" he asked. "What did you see, Nat?"

"A face!" was the startling reply. "It was peering in through that porthole at us, but the instant I looked up it vanished."

"Was it a man's face?" asked Captain Akers, deeply interested. The others were off at another part of the cabin and Nat was glad, for he did not wish them to hear the alarming intelligence.

"Yes, it was a man's face, as well as I can describe it. But it was a terrible one. It was hairy and had two little beady eyes set deep in it that glinted with hate as they looked at us. Who could it have been?"

"Well, my hearty, we'll soon find out. I'm a plain sailor and don't like mystery. I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Where did you say the skulker was—outside that port? Then it ought to be easy to find him."

With this, and with Nat close at his heels, he dashed out of the cabin on to the deck.

But to their utter astonishment the schooner looked just as before. No human figure could be seen crouching behind some obstruction and peering at the intruders.

Nor could they find any tracks under the port through which Nat was positive he had seen the formidable face peering.

Who, then, could it have been? And where had he concealed himself?

The forward deck-house was the place that naturally suggested itself to them. Led by the captain, the two young adventurers started for the small white structure.

"Whoever you are, my man," exclaimed the captain, as he laid hand on the door and thrust it open, "don't dare to try any monkey tricks with us. We'll stand for no nonsense and are armed."

With these words he pushed open the door. But the place, which was evidently a kind of galley—or cook house—combined with sleeping accommodations of a rough character, was empty. A rusty sea-range with pots and pans still on it stretched along the forward end, and cooking materials stood all about. A big barrel of rolled oats, with the top off, stood half open.

"Hullo!" exclaimed the captain, as he gazed into it, "some one's dipped into this lately."

So much was clear. The contents of the barrel had evidently been disturbed by somebody helping himself; but who?

As he propounded the question to himself, Nat looked up, and almost gave way to a shrill cry of alarm as he did so.

There was a small, square, unglazed window above the stove—apparently put there for ventilation.

In this aperture as he glanced up he had, for the second time, encountered the terrible hairy face gazing in at them. But as his eyes met the bright, shifty orbs the visage vanished, and when the others looked up the window was empty.

It was the work of but one second for Nat to dash out of the cook house. But swift as he was the mysterious eavesdropper was quicker. He must have vanished with the celerity of a Jack-in-the-box, for when Nat gained the deck not a trace of anything unusual was to be seen.

"Say, this thing is getting on my nerves," the lad exclaimed, as the others joined him and he concluded his description of the second appearance of the grim face.

"I don't blame you, my boy," rejoined Captain Akers. "Seriously, if I was as superstitious as some seamen, I'd say that this craft was haunted. There hardly seems to be any other explanation for it."

"Except that disturbed oat barrel," put in Joe uneasily.

"That's just it," responded the captain; "that makes it look as if something human was on board. But in that case why should they avoid us and play such pranks as have just occurred. I don't understand it and I don't half like it. Let's have a look at the cargo—there may be something we require in it—and then I suggest that we make the best of our way back to the 'Nomad.'"

The boys agreed heartily and watched with some interest while Captain Akers removed the cover of the forward hatch. As the battens were lifted off a strange, familiar smell assailed their nostrils, but before either of the boys could speak Captain Akers gave a cry of astonishment.

"Case oil! Kerosene!" he cried. "Hoor-ay, boys! This is the greatest discovery of the age. We can run the engine of the 'Nomad' now till further orders."

"Three cheers!" shouted Nat, fairly forgetting in the joy of this great discovery the gloom which the mystery of the schooner "Island Queen" had cast over him.

Joe Hartley joined with a will in the jubilation. It would have been a queer sight if any one could have been looking on to see those three—the grizzled seaman and the bright-faced boys—capering about like lunatics in their joy at the discovery.

But in the midst of their jubilation they received a sudden check. Captain Akers had bethought himself to look for the "Nomad."

A cry of consternation now rose to his lips and was echoed by the boys as they ascertained its cause.

The "Nomad" had vanished.

They were alone in mid-Pacific on the mysterious schooner!