CHAPTER VI
ABOARD THE SCHOONER
“Where are you from?”
“Are you government spies?”
“They look pretty young for spies,” announced one of the men, as he faced Jack.
“What do you mean by slamming into our boats in this fashion?” roared one elderly fellow, a man with an ugly scar on his jaw. “Do you want to send us all to Davy Jones’ Locker?”
“Better search ’em, Jim. They may be heeled,” muttered another.
“Here, what do you fellows want?” demanded Ralph.
“Who are you? Do you own this boat?” questioned the man with a scar.
“It belongs to my father.”
“Where are you from—Hyannis?” asked another of the fellows, quickly.
“Up with your hands, all of you!” commanded the first man who had spoken.
As several of the men were armed, the boys felt that it would be useless to resist, so they allowed themselves to be searched. Then one of the men went into the cabin and found a pistol which belonged to Ralph. Of course, the Rovers and their chums were very angry; but they saw that they had an exceedingly rough crowd to deal with—men who would go to any length to have their own way—so they felt that it would be useless to resist.
“Carrying any loose change with you, Buddy?” questioned one of the men, leering into Randy’s face and then glancing down at his watch-chain.
“What do you mean?” answered Randy. “If I’ve got any money I’m not going to give it to you.”
“Don’t be so sure of that, Buddy. What are you fellows doing out here, anyway?”
“I think they’re too young to be spies,” said one of the men, who seemed to be a trifle more respectable than his companions.
“Don’t you be too sure of that, Ike,” was the reply from the man with the scar. “The government is getting all sorts of people to watch us lately. They’ve even got some women folks on our trail.”
“Well, if they’re spies, we caught ’em nicely,” came from another of the crowd.
“We are not spies, and we want you to let us alone,” said Jack. “We were trying to find our way from Nantucket to Chatham, and we hit you by mistake. It wouldn’t have happened if you had had a horn blowing. We sounded our own horn every once in a while.”
“Never heard no horn,” declared one of the men. “You can’t put up a job on us! I know your sort! We ought to throw the whole bunch of you overboard!”
It was easy to see that all of the men had been drinking and that several of them were in anything but an amiable mood. There were three small boats and each of them was piled high with boxes of liquor of various brands. Evidently the boxes had come from the three-masted schooner, for the larger vessel rode high and appeared to be empty.
A war of words followed, lasting ten minutes or more. In vain the Rover boys and their chums pleaded that their coming upon the rum-runners had been an accident. One or two of the men seemed willing to believe them, but the majority of the law-breakers were of the opinion that they were spies.
“I’ve spotted a motor boat following us two different nights,” said one of the men. “I’ll bet a new hat this is the same boat. They thought they would spot us with our cargoes and hand us over to the federal agents.”
“It isn’t true! Not a word of it!” said Ralph.
“We want you to let us go. Otherwise you’re going to get yourselves into a lot of trouble,” put in Gif.
These words seemed only to anger the men. They conferred among themselves, and then one of them, the fellow with the scar, came to Ralph.
“You go up on the schooner and talk to Captain Gilsen,” said he. “He’s the fellow to settle this.”
“And the rest of you go up with him,” put in another. “He’ll probably want to talk to every one of you before he lets you go.”
Somewhat against their will, one after another of the boys was hustled up a rope ladder that hung over the side of the schooner.
THE BOYS WERE HUSTLED UP THE SIDE OF THE SCHOONER.
“What of the motor boat? Who is going to take care of that?” questioned Jack, as he went up.
“We’ll look after the motor boat,” answered the scar-faced man.
Once on the deck of the schooner, Ralph and the others found themselves confronted by a burly, dark-faced fellow with a fierce moustache. This was Captain Gilsen.
“Now, I want the straight of this,” the captain said harshly. “No crooked story for me, understand!”
“We’re telling you the simple truth, Captain,” said Ralph, and then he and Jack and Gif told their story.
“Humph! Maybe that’s true and maybe it isn’t,” muttered the captain, tugging at his moustache. “For all I know, if I let you go, as soon as you get ashore you’ll get my friends into trouble.”
“Well, you’ll get into trouble if you don’t let us go,” answered Jack pointedly. “You have no right to detain us.”
“And you have no right to come up and bump into my schooner,” growled the captain. “For all I know, you’ve done a whole lot of damage.”
“No damage at all outside of a little paint being scraped off,” put in Gif. “And it was a pure accident. If you had had your horn blowing, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Don’t you tell me what I ought to be doing,” stormed Captain Gilsen. “I was running a ship before you were born. You stay right here until I talk it over with the other men.”
While the captain was speaking another man had come on deck, rubbing his eyes and stretching himself as if he had been asleep. He looked at the boys in surprise, and then, as his gaze fell upon Jack, he uttered an exclamation.
“What in thunder are you doing here?”
Jack looked at the fellow sharply and then he was equally surprised. The newcomer was Bill Ferguson, one of the two men who had been pitched out of the overturned automobile.
“Do you know these fellows?” demanded Captain Gilsen, in astonishment.
“I know this fellow,” was the surly answer. “He’s the one I was telling you about—the fellow who was riding in the automobile that almost bumped into Billings and me.”
“What? The same kid? That certainly is interesting!”
“How did he come here?”
“You must have slept mighty hard, Bill, or you wouldn’t ask that question,” came from the captain of the schooner. “The whole bunch smashed into us with their motor boat. We don’t know whether they are spies or what they are.” And then the captain continued: “You watch the bunch while I talk it over with the other fellows. I want to be sure of what I’m doing before I let them go.”
The captain walked to the side of the schooner and then went down the rope ladder to one of the small boats. Here he held an earnest conversation with those who had first seen the boys.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you quite so soon,” remarked Bill Ferguson, with a leer at Jack. “I ought to give you a sound lickin’, that’s what I ought to do!”
“That accident was your own fault, and you know it,” answered Jack, not knowing what else to say. “You have no right to blame me for it.”
“Were you runnin’ the car?”
“No. My uncle was doing that.”
“Well, then, he’s the one, I suppose, I ought to blame.”
“Not at all! It was your own fault.”
“Humph! How did you get here?”
Again the story was told, Bill Ferguson listening with deep interest. He scowled sourly when Jack finished. Then, of a sudden, a crafty look came into his eyes.
“Where is the motor boat now—tied fast to the schooner?”
“Tied fast to one of the other boats,” put in Ralph.
“Is your motor boat an old one?”
“No, she’s brand new,” answered the young commander of the Fancy.
He had scarcely spoken when he realized that he had made a mistake. A new sea-going motor boat is worth considerable money, and Ralph, as well as Jack, felt that Ferguson must realize this.
“You stay where you are. I’ll see what the men have to say myself,” said Bill Ferguson, presently, and strode to the rail.
The boys felt in anything but a comfortable position. They were outnumbered at least three to one, and all of the rum-runners seemed to be armed. More than this, as they were on the high seas, the captain of the schooner would be likely to do about as he pleased.
“Say, Ralph, can’t we jump on the motor boat somehow and get away?” whispered Gif.
“If we don’t get away, I’m thinking these fellows will rob us,” came from Randy, who had not forgotten what one of the rascals had said about money.
“I don’t see how we can get to the motor boat,” was Ralph’s reply. “Do you think we can make it, Jack?”
The young major shook his head. He felt that it would not be safe to make the attempt in the fog and with the motor boat bobbing up and down on the swells of the ocean.
The conversation between Captain Gilsen and the owners of the small boats lasted for the best part of a quarter of an hour. Then, when the captain came on deck again, he held another conference with Bill Ferguson. Later on the Rover boys learned that Ferguson and Gilsen were not only cousins, but also partners in their illegal traffic.
“I am sorry to say I can’t let you go just yet,” said Captain Gilsen, when he came back to the lads. “Some of the men are afraid that you are spies and will get them into trouble. They want a chance to get away first.”
“You haven’t any right to detain us,” said Ralph.
“Well, I’m taking the right. We’ll tie the motor boat fast to the schooner, and then you can just sit down and suck your thumbs for an hour or two.”
“And you can thank your stars you’re gettin’ off so easy,” put in Bill Ferguson. “I ought to give you a good lickin’, that’s what I ought to do,” he went on to Jack.
The boys had noted that there were at least six or eight sailors on board the Hildegarde, as the schooner was named. For all they knew, these men might also be armed, so it would be folly for them to show any resistance. This being so, they remained on the deck of the craft while one after another of the smaller boats took their departure. The Fancy was attached by a long cable to the Hildegarde and was left in charge of one of the sailors, who seemed to know how to manage such a craft.
“Now make yourselves at home on deck, but don’t get into mischief,” said Captain Gilsen to the boys, after the small boats were gone. “I’ve got a few things to attend to below deck. I’ll be up after a while and we can talk matters over.”
He and Ferguson went below and in the cabin held a whispered conversation lasting quite a while. In the meantime, the boys talked matters over, trying to determine what would be best for them to do.
“We are certainly in a pickle,” was the way Spouter expressed himself. “Half of the men on this boat look to be regular cutthroats.”
“They’re a bad bunch, you may be sure of that,” answered Jack. “If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be in any such business.”
“I wonder if we can’t haul the motor boat closer, drop aboard, and get away,” suggested Andy.
“We might jump overboard and swim for it,” said his brother, “but it would be mighty cold.”
When Captain Gilsen showed himself again his face wore rather a sickly smile.
“I’m sorry I have to tell you this,” he said. “But the fact of the matter is, we’re afraid to trust you to go ashore just at present. We want to give those other fellows a chance to dispose of their cargo. If you went ashore, you might spoil everything. So we’ve concluded to take you along with us until the weather clears off. Then we’ll let you go.”
“You mean that we’ve got to go with you?” cried Spouter, in dismay.
“That’s it.”
“But suppose we don’t want to go with you?” put in Gif.
At this Captain Gilsen drew himself up.
“You have to go,” he replied curtly. “This is my ship, and what I say goes!”