The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog

  Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)

  The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate

  OR

  A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog

  By

  H. IRVING HANCOCK

  Author of The Motor Boat Club of the Kennebec, The Motor Boat Club atNantucket, The Motor Boat Club off Long Island, The Motor Boat Club andthe Wireless, The Motor Boat Club in Florida, etc., etc.

  Illustrated

  PHILADELPHIAHENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY

  COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HOWARD E. ALTEMUS

  "I Trust You, But I'll Hold Onto the Pitcher."

  _Frontispiece._]

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I. TOM HALSTEAD, KNIGHT OF THE OVERLAND MAIL, 7

  II. HAZING, M. B. C. K. STYLE, 22

  III. CAPTAIN TOM'S NEW COMMAND, 34

  IV. HALSTEAD IS LET INTO A SECRET, 52

  V. A HUNT IN THE UNDER-WORLD, 59

  VI. FACING THE YELLOW BARRIER, 68

  VII. DICK TAKES THE RESCUE BOAT TRICK, 81

  VIII. THE REAL KENNEBEC WAY, 94

  IX. THE CHASE OF THEIR LIVES, 100

  X. COMING TO CLOSE, DANGEROUS QUARTERS, 111

  XI. GASTON GIDDINGS MAKES TROUBLE, 122

  XII. TOO-WHOO-OO! IS THE WORD, 129

  XIII. THE CALL FROM OUT OF THE FOG, 136

  XIV. MR. CRAGTHORPE IS MORE THAN TROUBLESOME, 146

  XV. THE MIDNIGHT ALARM, 155

  XVI. THE FIRE DRILL IN EARNEST, 164

  XVII. CRAGTHORPE INTRODUCES HIS REAL SELF, 172

  XVIII. A TRICK MADE FOR TWO, 183

  XIX. TED DYER, SAILOR BY MARRIAGE, 196

  XX. THE FIND IN THE FOREHOLD, 206

  XXI. ON A BLIND TRAIL OF THE SEA, 213

  XXII. A STERN LOOMS UP IN THE FOG, 222

  XXIII. ROLLINGS'S LAST RUSE, 228

  XXIV. CONCLUSION, 243

  The Motor Boat Club at The Golden Gate

  CHAPTER I

  TOM HALSTEAD, KNIGHT OF THE OVERLAND MAIL

  "I feel it in my bones," announced Joe Dawson, quietly thoughpositively.

  "That's no talk for an engineer," jibed Tom Halstead. "Tell me, instead,that you read it in your gauge."

  "Oh, laugh, if you want to," nodded Dawson, showing no offense. "Butyou'll find that I'm right. You know, I don't often make predictions."

  "Yet, this time, you feel that something disastrous is going to happenbefore this train rolls out on the mole at Oakland? In other words,before we set foot in San Francisco?"

  "No, I don't say quite that," objected Joe, thoughtfully. "There's aheap of the navigator about you, Tom Halstead, and you're pinning medown to the map and the chronometer. I won't predict quite as closely asthat. But, either before we reach 'Frisco, or mighty soon after we getthere, something is going to happen."

  "And it's going to be a disaster?" questioned Tom, closely.

  "For someone, yes; and we're going to be in it, at great risk."

  "Well, it's a comfort to have it narrowed down even as closely as that,"smiled Tom Halstead. "I hope it isn't going to be another earthquake,though."

  "No," agreed Joe, thoughtfully.

  "Oh, well, that much of your prediction will comfort the people of SanFrancisco, anyway."

  "Now, you're laughing at me again," grinned Joe, good-naturedly.

  "No; I'm not," protested Halstead, but belied himself by the twinkle inhis eyes, and by whistling softly the air of a popular song that theboys had heard in a New York theatre just before leaving for the West.

  At the present moment both boys were sitting comfortably facing eachother in their section in a sleeping car on the luxurious Overland Mail.It was early forenoon. They had left Sacramento behind some time before,on the last stretch of the run across the state of California.

  Joe Dawson was riding facing forward. Tom Halstead, in the seatopposite, half lolled at the window-ledge, with his back toward theengine. Both boys had slept well on their last night out from SanFrancisco. Both had breakfasted heartily, that morning, in the diningcar now left behind at the state capital. The next thing that wouldinterest them, so far as they could now guess, would be their arrival atOakland, and the subsequent ferry trip that would land them in SanFrancisco.

  It may seem a curious fact to the reader, but neither Tom Halstead norJoe Dawson knew just what new phases of life awaited them in the City bythe Golden Gate. They were engaged to enter the employment of a man whoowned a motor yacht. The owner had agreed to their own terms in the wayof salary, and he was paying all their expenses on this luxurious tripwestward. Moreover, the same owner had engaged some of the other membersof the Motor Boat Club of the Kennebec, as will soon be told.

  Readers of the preceding volumes of this series are already wellacquainted with bright, energetic, loyal and capable Tom Halstead, who,from the start, had held the post of fleet captain of the Motor BoatClub. The same readers are equally familiar with the career of JoeDawson, fleet engineer of the Club.

  As narrated in "THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OF THE KENNEBEC," Tom and Joe weretwo boys of seafaring stock, and natives of Maine, having been bornnear the mouth of the Kennebec River. That first volume detailed how thetwo young men served aboard the "Sunbeam," the motor yacht of a Bostonbroker, and how the boys aided the Government officers in solving themystery of Smugglers' Island. Out of those adventures arose the foundingof the Club, with Tom and Joe at its head.

  In "THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AT NANTUCKET" the two boys were again seen togreat advantage. There they had some most lively sea adventures, allcentering around the abduction of the Dunstan heir. Next, as told in"THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OFF LONG ISLAND," the motor boat boys played anexciting part in the balking of a great Wall Street conspiracy. Inrecognition of their services at this time, the man whom they mosthelped presented them with a fifty-five foot cruising motor boat, whichthe two proud young owners named the "Restless." Afterwards theyinstalled a wireless telegraph apparatus on the boat, and then came oneof their truly famous cruises, as related in "THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB ANDTHE WIRELESS," wherein wireless telegraphy was employed in ferreting outone of the great mysteries of the sea.

  "THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB IN FLORIDA" described the sea wanderings of CaptainTom and Engineer Joe in the Gulf waters, and their subsequentadventures in the Everglades and at Tampa, including the laying of theGhost of Alligator Swamp.

  From time to time other seafaring boys, whose experience aboard motoryachts qualified them, were elected members of the Motor Boat Club, anorganization which now boasted some forty members along the Atlanticseaboard. Several of these boys had made themselves barely less famousthan had Halstead and Dawson.

  Broker George Prescott, of Boston, their first employer and founder ofthe Club, was still their staunch friend. So, too, in scarcely lessdegree, was Francis Delavan, a Wall Street financier to whom Tom and Joehad rendered most valuable services.

  It was through Mr. Delavan that Halstead and Dawson had secured theirpresent engagement, the details of which they did not yet know. Thisen
gagement had come just as the young men were leaving Florida waters inJanuary, preparatory to making their way to New York, near which greatcity the "Restless" was now laid up, out of commission at present,though as seaworthy a boat as ever.

  Tom had been allowed to engage Jeff Randolph, the Florida member of theClub, for this new, unknown enterprise. Jeff was believed to be eitheron his way, or already in San Francisco, at the Palace Hotel, on MarketStreet, which was to be the meeting place of the motor boat boys.

  Yet there were other old friends due to meet the fleet captain and fleetengineer. Mr. Delavan had also engaged, by wire, Dick Davis and AbPerkins, of Maine, now back from a famous trip to Brazil as told in "THEMOTOR BOAT CLUB AND THE WIRELESS." Jed Prentiss, a Nantucket member ofthe Club, was also on his way to or in San Francisco to join them,thanks to Mr. Prescott's interest. How Jed joined the Club, and provedhimself more than worthy, was all told in "THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB ATNANTUCKET."

  The name of the San Francisco man who had engaged six members of theMotor Boat Club to cross the continent was Joseph Baldwin. Beyond thisthe boys knew nothing of him, save that Francis Delavan had vouched forhim. That was enough. Not even the name of Baldwin's craft was known tothe seafaring boys who were crossing the continent.

  "I wonder if Mr. Baldwin will be at Oakland, to meet us?" asked Joe, asthe train sped evenly, swiftly along.

  "It isn't likely," replied Tom. "He has told us where to report. I fancyhe considers that enough."

  "A man might get a boat's crew together a good deal more cheaply,"mused Joe, aloud. "Our fellows that Mr. Baldwin has engaged are alltop-notchers in the way of salary. With such a crew it's going to costour man a good deal to keep his boat running."

  "You know the reputation that California millionaires have, Joe,"laughed his chum. "It is said of them that they'd sooner spend moneythan keep it drawing interest."

  "Still," pondered Joe Dawson, "I don't believe California people like topitch money out of the window any better than people of other sectionsdo."

  "It has struck me," Tom went on, "that we're engaged by a man who isrunning a racing boat. If that is so, and we can get the top speed outof his craft, then I suppose Mr. Baldwin wouldn't consider the matter ofexpense at all. All he wants, in that case, is to win cups and build abig reputation for his boat."

  "I hope it _is_ a racer," cried Joe, his eyes glistening. "Whew! How ourcrowd, pulling together in team work, could make a boat everlastinglysprint over the waves!"

  The car in which the two boys sat was the last of the train. It had anobservation platform at the rear. In this observation compartment themotor boat boys had spent much time while the train was rolling alongthrough the highly picturesque scenery of the Rocky Mountains. Thismorning, however, going swiftly past sun-lit sections of California,over a nearly level road, both young travelers were content to remain intheir seats by the window.

  In the car were a dozen other passengers. Only one other besides themotor boat boys was especially young. She was a girl of about eighteen,blond, rather plump and very pretty. She appeared to be traveling alone,having boarded the train at Kansas City. Tom and Joe had been able tooffer her a few travelers' courtesies, which had been graciouslyaccepted. Neither young man, however, knew the girl's name. Both motorboat boys were too well bred to attempt to force an acquaintance.

  Just now, as Tom happened to lean over his seat and glance down theaisle, he saw that this young lady was in the observation compartment.She appeared to be alone there. Something in the expression on her facemade her seem highly uneasy about something.

  "I hope she isn't in any trouble," murmured Halstead, to himself, "andthat she isn't going to find anything unpleasant at the end of herjourney."

  The next time he glanced down the aisle Halstead again caught a glimpseof her face.

  "By Jove, I believe she's been crying, or else is about to begin,"muttered the young captain. "I wonder if it's real trouble, or justsomething that she's afraid of."

  Then Tom made haste to look away, lest the young lady should see that hehad been studying her and take offense.

  "Look at the roses," commented Joe, glancing out of the window at apretty little California village through which the train was passing atsomewhat lessened speed. "Great Scott, there are violets growing in thegarden we've just passed. February! Think of the deep feet of snow oneither bank of the Kennebec just now!"

  "It's the land of roses and other posies, all right," agreed Halstead,himself looking out with a good deal of interest at the bright sceneunder the soft haze of the California winter day.

  "Say, these are real days! This beats Florida!" exclaimed Joe,enthusiastically.

  "When it doesn't rain," remarked the practical Halstead. "You know, thisis the rainy season in California."

  "I don't care," contended Joe. "Even on a rainy day it must be beautifulin this fine old state."

  "And on a foggy one, also," laughed Tom. "You know, at this time of theyear, there are likely to be some great old fogs around San FranciscoBay. I've heard that it takes a clever pilot to guess correctly whetherhe's landing at San Francisco or Oakland."

  "Humph!" grunted Joe.

  Dawson turned, looking out of the window for some time without speaking.

  "We're getting near some big town," he remarked, at last. Then, afterglancing at his watch: "It must be Oakland."

  "Yes," nodded Tom. "I guess we'll soon be making our stop at theSixteenth Street station."

  "Anything special about that station?"

  "It's the last stop before we run out onto the mole at Oakland."

  The train had now begun to run, at greatly lessened speed, through oneof the streets of the city. Joe found less to interest him. He glancedupward at the rack, toward his traveling bag and overcoat.

  "That overcoat seems like an insult to the climate," he remarked.

  "Don't throw it away," advised Tom Halstead, "until you see whether someof the 'Frisco nights are chilly. I've sort of an idea they will be."

  "I wonder whether we're going to have much time ashore, or whether itwill be all spent on the water?" suggested Joe. But Tom, of course,didn't know the answer.

  "Sixteenth Street next stop!" called the porter through the car.

  "Might as well stretch our legs," hinted Tom, rising. Joe also left hisseat.

  As several of the passengers in the car were heading toward the frontend, the motor boat boys started for the observation compartment at therear end.

  The young lady was still standing there. It looked as though sheintended to step down outside as soon as the train should come to astop. Not wishing to intrude, Tom Halstead halted, a few feet away, Joedoing the same.

  Hardly had the train stopped when a porter opened the door of theobservation compartment. The young lady quickly descended, the boysfollowing. The young lady remained close to the steps, glancing abouther. Lifting their hats, Tom and Joe stepped past her, mingling in thethrong at the station. There wasn't much here to see, but it was arelief to be quit of the train for a minute or two.

  "There's the engine bell ringing," nudged Joe, at last. "We may as wellhustle back."

  As the two motor boat boys turned once more, Tom saw the young womanstanding beside the rear steps, one hand holding to the brass rail. Sheappeared rather frightened. Before her, talking rapidly, was a man ofperhaps thirty years of age and some five feet nine inches in height.On his smooth-shaven, dark face rested an ugly, black look. Somethingthat the man said just as Tom glanced that way caused the girl to winceand grow paler.

  "Why, that fellow has been on the train, though not in our car, for thelast two days," occurred to Halstead, swiftly. "And now I remember I sawthe young lady talking to him back at Battle Mountain. Jove! but sheseems afraid of him. There, she's trying to leave him, and he has caughtat her sleeve to hold her. Confound the ugly look in his eyes! I wishshe were _my_ sister for five minutes!"

  Almost unconsciously, in his indignation, Captain Tom increased hispace. Joe, looking in another directio
n, did not at once perceive this,and so fell a bit behind.

  "I'm not going to listen to you any longer," cried the young woman, in avoice that sounded tearful, though she was resolutely keeping the tearsback out of her eyes. "You are talking like a coward!"

  "Pardon me," said Captain Tom, rather stiffly, brushing past the youngman. The girl edged to give the motor boat boy room on the steps, and,as he passed her, started to follow him up into the car.

  "You're not going to leave me in that fashion," snapped the dark youngman, angrily. "See here----"

  Again he caught at the girl's sleeve, after leaping up onto the loweststep.

  "Let me go," commanded the girl, indignantly.

  "Not until----"

  She wrenched herself free, then bounded after Halstead.

  "Don't let him come into the car," begged the girl.

  "Out of my way, young fellow," ordered the dark man, gaining the secondstep up.

  "Is this man annoying you?" asked Tom, in a friendly tone of the girl,though he turned a cool, hostile stare upon the young man.

  "Yes, he is," the young woman answered.

  "Get out of the way, boy," commanded the man, reaching out a hand.

  Tom Halstead's right hand closed instantly. His fist shot out, landingon the fellow's neck. That persecutor fell back, missed his footing, andwent sprawling to the station platform. The girl had started to dartinto the car, but now she turned, watching with fearful eyes.

  "Oh, don't let him hurt you!" she cried to Tom.

  "Thank you," responded the young captain, dryly; "I don't believe hewill."

  The train was beginning to move as the man fell sprawling on theplatform. Joe, who had seen the blow struck, darted in, dragging thefellow swiftly to his feet.

  "You'll have to hustle, mister, if you're going to get your carforward," Joe advised him.

  "This car is the one I----" began the man.

  But Joe coolly swung in ahead of him, elbowing the fellow out of theway. The next moment the porter, grinning, reached over with the key andlocked the door of the car, which Dawson had closed.

  Looking the picture of rage, the man darted swiftly down the platform.The train was now moving too rapidly, however, for the stranger to getaboard, and the last car rolled by him as he stood, baffled, on theplatform.

  "I--I don't know how to thank you both," faltered the girl.

  "I assure you it didn't even put us to any inconvenience," smiledCaptain Tom.

  "But--oh! I hope you won't meet him in San Francisco," cried the girl,in sudden alarm. "He's dangerous, ugly, vengeful!"

  "We've met such men before," laughed Captain Tom, quietly. "Andyet----well, we're here."

  "But you don't know that man!" shuddered the girl.

  "That we don't is something to brag about, I reckon," smiled Joe.

  "If you ever do come face to face with him, or catch him, anywhere,watching you, beware of him!" begged the young lady, earnestly. "Henever forgives anything--that wretch!"

  "Are you uneasy over the remainder of your journey?" asked Tom,politely. "Will you feel safer for escort?"

  "Oh, I shall be all right, now," replied the girl, with a gratefulsmile, though her cheeks were still pallid. "He is no longer on thetrain."

  "Command us, if you will," begged Captain Tom Halstead, gallantly. Heand Joe Dawson lifted their hats courteously, then passed on to theirown section.

  "One of the little dramas of life that are being enacted all around us,"muttered Halstead.

  "I wouldn't have minded seeing that one through," returned Joe.

  Neither boy, at that moment, suspected that they would yet "see itthrough."