CHAPTER III.
LIKE THIEVES IN THE NIGHT.
In the meantime, the Motor Rangers and their western chum had jogged into the little town, creating some excitement among the inhabitants thereof. Santa Inez was one of those sleepy, little places not uncommon along the coast of northern California, connected with the outer world only by a semi-weekly stage and by an occasional steamer. Shut in by the Coast Range to the east, and the broad Pacific to the west, its inhabitants lived an almost patriarchal existence.
Small and primitive as it was, however, the place boasted a hotel. The hostelry was not large, but still not bad of its kind, and having inquired the direction the boys made the best of their time toward it.
"I expect Captain Akers will be there already," remarked Nat, as they rode through the dusty street, shaded by feathery pepper trees with pungent-smelling foliage.
"You told him to meet us there, then?" asked Joe.
"I did—yes. It was in the expectation that he would arrive there first. But in any event, it is no doubt the first place he will make for, expecting to hear news of us."
The party had no difficulty in engaging rooms; indeed the landlord—one Calvo Pinto—appeared as if he could not do enough for them. It was not often that the Gran Hotel De Santa Inez, as it was grandiloquently called, boasted such a numerous party of guests. As Nat told Pinto that their party might be recruited by two more, the fellow was naturally obsequious enough. In fact, he was servility itself, and bowed and cringed in most abject fashion.
All this super-civility filled Nat with a feeling of distrust. However, as they had nothing to be apprehensive over, he soon dismissed the idea from his mind.
The landlord insisted on helping them stable their mounts. They would much have preferred to perform this duty themselves, but Pinto seemed to think it a part of his work to aid them, and they could not peremptorily order him to leave. Thus it came about, that when the pack of the burro was removed, the keen eyes of the landlord fell on the rather unusual-looking brass bound box in which the precious sapphires were carried till they could be given over to the authorities.
He asked many questions concerning the receptacle, none of which, naturally enough, were answered other than vaguely. This served to increase the landlord's curiosity, but he cunningly refrained from betraying his inquisitiveness. His speculations concerning the strange box were not allayed when, on his laying hold of it, ostensibly to help the boys into the hotel, Cal Gifford told him, rather roughly, to let go.
Pinto shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing but that he was "the servant of the señors, and their wishes should be respected."
After some consultation held in undertones, it was decided to place the box in the room occupied by Nat and Joe. This was at one end of the hotel and boasted a stout lock on the door. Beneath the window was the flat roof of a porch.
"Handy in case of fire," remarked Nat, looking out.
"That's right," agreed Joe, "but has it occurred to you that it would be equally handy for any intruders who might wish to examine the box?"
"You mean the landlord?"
"Well, I didn't exactly like the way he looked at it."
"Pshaw," scoffed Nat, "what could a puny rat like that do against four able-bodied persons—not to mention Captain Akers and the man we noticed helping him on the 'Nomad.' However, we will keep watch to-night if you like. Hullo"—he broke off suddenly as voices were heard on the porch below—"there's Captain Akers now. He must have just come ashore. Let's shove the box in under the bed and go down and meet him. I'm dying to hear how the 'Nomad' behaved on her trip up the coast."
Locking the door behind them, the two lads descended. On the landing they met Cal Gifford and Ding-dong Bell who shared the next room to themselves. Both had had a good wash-up, as had Nat and Joe, and the party looked considerably spruced up from the travel-stained individuals who had entered the hotel a short time before.
Captain Akers, a bluff, blond-bearded seaman, greeted them effusively. He knew all of them except Cal. The mountaineer and the sailor shook hands with a feeling of mutual respect as they surveyed each other. Both were men of action and decision and recognized those qualities in the other.
The captain's assistant on board the "Nomad" turned out to be a slender yet muscular youth, introduced by the mariner as Sam Hinckley. He was a capable young chap, said the captain, and had been of the greatest assistance to him when the "Nomad's" engine became cantankerous in a blow she had encountered on her way up the coast. It was this that had caused the delay. But Hinckley, who possessed a wonderful knowledge of marine gasolene engines, had managed to adjust the difficulty more speedily than the captain would have thought possible.
Presently, after an enthusiastic discussion of the boat and her good points, Captain Akers drew Nat aside.
"I regard this young chap Hinckley as quite a find," he said. "He presented himself at the boat yard some time ago and said he was looking for work. Although I didn't much need a hand, I tried him out and he proved himself so capable that he was hired regularly. He has rather a remarkable history. It seems that he hails from the South Seas—somewhere in the Marquesas Group, I believe. He left there on account of some trouble he had with a relative. He did not confide to me what it was and since he did not seem anxious to let me know, I have never pressed him on this part of his history. It was sufficient for me to know that I had a good, capable workman who, so far as I have been able to observe, is as honest as the day is long, and a thorough seaman."
"He looks all of that," agreed Nat, with a glance at Hinckley's broad shoulders and upright bearing. The young sailor stood chatting with the others at some little distance down the hotel porch.
"And now what do you say if we go out and inspect the 'Nomad'?" asked Captain Akers.
This was a proposal which naturally met with no negative votes. But right here a problem presented itself. Who was to stay to guard the sapphires; for, of course, such a thing as leaving them unwatched was not to be thought of. The question was settled by Cal Gifford, who insisted on remaining behind. Maybe the mountaineer was anxious to postpone his introduction to Old Ocean. At any rate, he seemed anxious to remain, so the boys, who were dancing about with impatience to inspect the "Nomad," did not press him very hard to change his resolution, as that would have meant that one of their number must remain on shore.
The "Nomad" proved all that Captain Akers had claimed for her. Her main cabin was roomy and provided with a stateroom for "the owner," and several berths of the type used on sleeping cars which folded up during the day or when they were not in use. Aft of the main cabin came a tiny galley, fitted with bright, new utensils, and opposite was a washroom.
A short flight of steps led to the cockpit, forward of which the engines were located, being reached by a door from the cabin. The cockpit was of the shallow, self-baling type. From it a short flight of steps led to a miniature "bridge" placed athwartship on top of the cabin. This was surmounted by a "military-mast," with cross-trees and halliards for hoisting signals.
There were other features about the "Nomad" which will be mentioned as occasion arises. The boys enthusiastically voted her a perfect little ship.
"She's capable of taking a cruise almost anywhere!" declared Nat.
Captain Akers nodded.
"Yes, she has large auxiliary tanks for carrying an extra supply of gasolene. Her engines are so constructed, moreover, that they will consume kerosene just as well as gasolene, so that if you ever get in a part of the world where gasolene is unobtainable you can burn the other fuel, which can be found almost anywhere on the globe."
"What if the engines break down?" asked Joe Hartley, with the air of one who has propounded a poser.
"In that case all we have to do," responded Captain Akers, "is to take to sail. The 'Nomad' has an extra deep keel, fitted for just that purpose."
"But the masts?" demanded Joe.
Captain Akers raised the hinged lid of one of the lockers that ran the length of the cockpit. Inside were several lengths of rounded, varnished timber, fitted with brass sockets. They may be compared to the dissembled sections of a fishing rod.
"There are our masts," he said. "Sockets have been provided, fore and aft, for the reception of their 'heels.' Everything is ready to attach their stays and rigging to. The sails are in that other locker. The 'Nomad' can be equipped for sail in less than half an hour."
The boys exchanged radiant glances. Truly there seemed nothing wanting to make the "Nomad" as complete a little vessel as could be desired. The inspection completed, they rowed shoreward once more. They found Cal on the watch, but nothing had occurred to require his attention. The remainder of the afternoon was spent in strolling about the little town and buying a few necessities for the voyage down the coast, for it had been determined that the start would be made in the morning, there being nothing to delay our adventurers at Santa Inez.
"How I wish we were going to cruise to the South Seas," sighed Nat.
"Never mind, maybe we will some day," put in Joe. "The Motor Rangers seem to be always running into adventures of all kinds."
That his prophecy was to be verified, and that in no very short time, never occurred to Joe, and as for the others, they concluded that, having reached Santa Inez in safety, they were through with the most risky part of their expedition. Little did they imagine that their adventures had not yet begun.
All hands turned in early that night, for a quick start was to be made on the morrow. Sam Hinckley rowed off to the "Nomad" after supper to keep watch and ward over her for the night, while the rest sought their previously assigned sleeping quarters in the hotel.
Folks retired early to bed in Santa Inez and by ten o'clock most of the lights in the place were out. It was about this time that two figures appeared in front of the hotel, taking care, however, to keep in the dark shade of the pepper trees lining the opposite sidewalk.
The two men watched the hotel for some time in silence, listening while the landlord went his nightly rounds, testing locks and fastening the lower windows. By and by he, too, vanished, and before long his light, which had appeared at an upper window, was extinguished.
"Shall we try for it now?" asked one of the men, slouching in the obscurity of the tree shadows.
"Not yet, Dayton. Give them time to get settled down to sleep. Is everything in readiness?"
"Yes, colonel. While you went to the camp to tell the men to be ready to embark to-night, I arranged for a boat. She is at the wharf now. All we have to do is to secure that chest, join the rest of the boys, get on board the schooner and then, 'Ho for the Marquesas!'"
"You talk as if it were all accomplished."
"And so it is, to all intents and purposes. We know the room where the boys are sleeping. That garrulous old fool of a landlord told us, when we dropped into his drinking bar, that the chest was in Nat Trevor's room. All we have to do, then, is to climb that trellis work leading up to the porch roof, walk in through the open window, and make good our escape."
"What if they make any resistance?"
"I don't think they will," said Dayton, grimly fingering his revolver as he spoke; "but if they do, we can easily subdue them."
"But they may raise the whole town about our ears," objected Colonel Morello, who seemed to be weakening now that the actual moment for carrying out their rascally plan had arrived. Dayton, on the contrary, was confident as if they already had the sapphires on board the "Nettie Nelsen."
"Let them raise the town if they want to," scoffed Morello's lieutenant. "The boys are waiting at the landing, and at the first sign of trouble they'll start a fusillade that will scare the life out of any one who tries to interfere. Now, then, you remain on watch here. I'm going to see how the coast lies."
Morello nodded. The next moment he was alone, while Dayton, swiftly but silently, glided across the dark street. He gained the foot of the trellis work, glanced upward for a minute, and then setting his foot in the criss-cross work began to climb. He made no more noise than a marauding cat.
His companion, watching nervously from the dark shadows, saw Dayton's form gain the porch roof, slip noiselessly across it to the boys' window, and cautiously push aside the shade.
The next instant he stepped through the casement and disappeared from Morello's view.