The Motor Boat Club in Florida; or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  THE MYSTERY OF THE NIGHT

  “COME, get up, you imp!” roared Mr. Tremaine, angrily, as he bentover. He seized the steward by the collar, and dragged that frightenedindividual to his feet.

  “Ham, you simpleton, there’s no such thing as a ghost,” uttered Mr.Tremaine, sharply.

  “Oh, ain’ dere, den?” demanded Ham, in high disgust at such ignorance.“Yo’ go out an’ meet it, den!”

  “I will,” agreed Henry Tremaine, gripping the negro tightly by the arm.“Where did you see that ghost?”

  “In de passageway, sah.”

  “Then come along and show it to me.”

  Mr. Tremaine spoke with such an air of disbelief and firmness that HamMockus began to gather some courage from such leadership.

  “But, den, sah, mebbe dat ghos’ don’ show himself to white folks ob dequality kind,” suggested the steward.

  “If we don’t see the ghost, then you’ve all the less reason to beafraid,” retorted Henry Tremaine. “But come along and see whether youcan show the ghost to me.”

  As Tremaine marched the badly scared steward out into the passageway,the ladies started to follow, out of sheer curiosity. So badly was theyacht rolling that Dixon went with them, to steady them and save themfrom being pitched headlong.

  “It was right erlong in dis passageway, sah,” Ham offered solemnassurance. “An’ Ah done heard a feahful sound—o-o-o-oh!”

  Ham suddenly gave a bound that took him out of Tremaine’s clutch. Hedarted to the forward end of the passageway, then halted, crouching,his eyes rolling almost as fast as the propeller shafts could revolve.

  Unquestionably there _had_ been a sound. Henry Tremaine, far fromsuperstitious, thought he had heard the same sound. As he halted,rooted to the spot, he heard a distinct knocking.

  “There’s something at the other side of this closet door,” spokeTremaine, with a positive air. Reaching out, he drew out the hookby which the door was secured in place. As he pulled the door open,Tom Halstead, looking more than half dead, lurched out of the littlecompartment in which he had been a prisoner. Tremaine caught him andsteadied him.

  “What’s the matter, lad?” demanded the charter-man.

  “Air,” whispered Halstead, hoarsely. “Nearly died in there!”

  “Your fans—quick, ladies,” cried Mr. Tremaine.

  Out where the ventilators were working, the youthful sailing masterwas quickly revived. Then Mr. Tremaine led him back to the cabin, anddropped him into a seat, while the ladies plied their fans vigorously.

  “Oh, I guess I’m all right, now,” protested Skipper Tom, looking upwith a smile.

  “But how came you in that place?” questioned Mr. Tremaine.

  “Why, one of our air compartments is in that place,” muttered Tom.“I stepped in there, just to make sure that all was right. While Iwas there the yacht lurched and the door slammed to. The hook on theoutside must have been standing up. Then it dropped, fitting just intoplace. I made an awful racket, hoping to attract someone’s attention.Then I began to get dizzy for lack of air.”

  “That was what that idiot, Ham, thought was the noise the ghost made,”grimaced Mr. Tremaine. “But, good heavens, Halstead! What a fearfulaccident to have happened. And, here in the cabin, we couldn’t hearyour clatter on this night of all nights.”

  “Joe could have brought you through, I guess, sir,” Tom smiled. “YetI’m glad I didn’t smother in there to-night. It’s much safer, in a galelike this, to have two men on the bridge deck. I’m going back therenow.”

  “Are you steady enough?” asked Mrs. Tremaine.

  “Oh, I’m all right,” vaunted Halstead. “I’ll go up on deck, now, andfeel better for the air.”

  Mr. Tremaine insisted on going forward with him as far as the motorroom hatch, seeing the young skipper safe out on deck. Then thecharter-man turned upon Ham, whose eyes were rolling at a more furiousrate than ever, and dragged him back to the cabin.

  “Ham, you infernal scared-cat!” roared Tremaine, as he stood thesteward up by the sideboard. Then the charter-man explained what reallyhad happened.

  “Yet you said you saw a ghost!” finished Mr. Tremaine.

  “Ah done t’ought Ah did, we’en Ah heahed dat awful noise,” chatteredHam Mockus.

  Tom Halstead’s condition rapidly improved as he groped his way to Joe’sside on the bridge deck, and stood gulping in great draughts of theair that was blowing so forcefully about him. Next, he shouted, in hischum’s ear, an account of what had happened to him.

  “Mighty curious,” Joe bawled back, with a shake of his head. “Aboutone chance in a million, I should say, that the door could close andhook itself.”

  “How else could it have happened!” Halstead demanded.

  At that, Joe had to admit that he had no theory of his own to fitthe case. While they were still talking about it, Henry Tremaine, inrain-coat and visored cap, opened the hatch, and came out onto the deck.

  “Keep hold of the life-ropes, sir,” Tom yelled at him. “Look out forthis wave coming!”

  Such a great weight of water rolled in over the low stern, floodingswiftly forward, that the “Restless” went low in the sea ere the saltyebb went out through the running scuppers.

  “The weather’s growing stiffer, isn’t it?” demanded Mr. Tremaine, afterthe deluge had passed.

  “Not growing any better, sir, anyway.”

  “I’ve just told the ladies the weather is moderating a good deal,”Tremaine went on, talking at the top of his voice, in order to makehimself heard. “They haven’t lost their courage yet, and there’s nosense in their being allowed to get scared. They won’t turn in, though.Say they’d rather sit up until the boat pitches a good deal less. Doyou consider that there’s any real danger to-night, Captain?”

  “Yes,” admitted Tom, honestly.

  “What is it?”

  “Why, the ‘Restless,’ I believe, sir, is fully staunch enough toweather such a gale if she can be kept going ahead. Yet the force ofthe rolling water to-night is something terrific. If our propellershafts snapped, under the strain, and we drifted in the trough of thesea, I don’t know how long we _could_ keep afloat.”

  “That’s the only danger?” asked Henry Tremaine, eyeing the youngsailing master keenly.

  “That’s the greatest danger, sir.”

  “What are the others?”

  “Why, sir, some of the hull timbers might be forced so that a leakwould be sprung, or, of course, we might go onto some uncharted reefor rock. This is a mean bit of coast to sail on with no local pilotaboard.”

  “You’re not afraid of disaster, are you, Captain Halstead?”

  Tom’s smile was swift and reassuring.

  “I expect, sir, to land you at some point in Oyster Bay by breakfasttime,” answered the young commander.

  For some moments Henry Tremaine studied the clean, clear-cut face andsteady, resolute eyes of Captain Tom. Then he glanced at the sturdy,unflinching figure of Joe Dawson at the wheel.

  “Halstead,” the charter-man shouted back, “since I have to be out hereon rough waters, and in the big blow, I am glad I’m with you two. Icouldn’t be in braver hands. When I _do_ turn in to-night it will be tosleep soundly.”

  How true the latter part of his prediction would come Tremaine couldnot guess as he groped his way down below.

  This night of hurricane _was_ full of dangers, even though thepropeller shafts should hold and the motors continue to work under thestrain. A score of times, at least, each of the young navigators hadto fight the grave danger of being lifted and carried overboard on thecurling crest of one of the many huge, combing waves that piled overthe stern of the “Restless” and dashed thunderously along the low deckof the yacht.

  Every now and then, while Tom was at the wheel, Joe went below tolook over his motors. Once he found them becoming overheated. It wasnecessary to slow the speed down to seven miles, and at this lessenedgait the boat rolled more than ever. Yet Joe had to f
ight it out withthe motors, even though headway was lost.

  When, at last, late in the night, the speed had been put up to ninemiles, Joe came up on deck and Skipper Tom went briefly below. He foundall his passengers still up in the cabin.

  “I just came below,” smiled Captain Halstead, “to assure you all thatit will be wholly safe for you to turn in, if you wish. I wouldn’t saythat if I didn’t believe it. Mr. Tremaine, we’ve had to slacken thespeed for quite a while, to cool our engines, so we won’t make OysterBay as early as I had expected.”

  The ladies, who could hardly hold their eyes open, expressed a desirefor sleep. Tremaine and young Dixon assisted them as far as theirstateroom door, then came back.

  “I believe I’ll turn in, Tremaine,” yawned Oliver Dixon, just as TomHalstead, in his sou’wester and oilskins, departed. “Are you going todo the same?”

  “After my bed-time glass of water, yes,” nodded the charter-man,groping his way to the sideboard and reaching for the water-bottle.

  Ham, still wholly of the opinion that he had seen a ghost, had long agocrept into his bunk in the motor room, covering up his head. He hadfallen asleep. Muffled snores from that berth greeted the young skipperas he reached the motor room.

  “That reminds me,” muttered Halstead. “I forgot to lock the cabin doorinto the passageway.”

  Retracing his steps, he used his key. This he had done regularly onthe cruise so that Ham Mockus, a stranger to all on board, could not,if so tempted, prowl in the cabin after the others had retired. ThenHalstead returned to deck.

  Through the long night he and Joe, strong and fearless as they were,wrestled with exhaustion, for the physical strain was enormous. Theymet the duties of the night as only Americans, born on the sea-coastand bred to the salt water ways, can meet such problems. There weretimes when they believed the pounding seas must snap one of thepropeller shafts. With one shaft gone, the other shaft could not longhave done double duty on such a night and in such a sea.

  At last Captain Tom sternly ordered Joe Dawson below for a rest. Joecame up on deck again, after a nap of an hour and a half, when it waswithin an hour of daylight.

  “Now, you get below,” begged Dawson. “I feel as strong as a horse, Tom.And go back to your berth in the cabin, at that. You know, I have theelectric signal to your berth, if I need you.”

  Captain Tom stood for some time, regarding the weather and the runningsea. But it seemed to him that they had reached a point where the galewas much less severe, and he was aching in every muscle and sinew.

  “I’ll go below for a little while,” he assented. Stopping in the motorroom long enough to shed oilskins and headgear, and hearing Hamstill snoring luxuriously, the young sailing master trod through thepassageway, unlocking the cabin door, then locking it again after him.

  Captain Tom drifted off into slumber the instant his head touched thepillow in his berth. Nor did he waken. Joe, glad that his chum mightrest at last, fought it out all alone on the bridge deck. Daylight wasflooding the cabin from the transom overhead when Captain Halsteadwas roused by hearing Mrs. Tremaine’s voice. Poking his head sleepilythrough the berth curtains, Tom beheld both ladies fully dressed, whileOliver Dixon was just coming out from the other stateroom.

  “We’re riding in much easier water, now, ladies,” was Dixon’s greeting.

  “Yes; I noticed that,” replied Ida Silsbee. “And I can’t tell you howglad I am, either. I tried to be brave last night, but I’ll admitI was worried. I’d have been more alarmed, only I realized what asplendid pair of young sailors were looking after——Why, there’s CaptainHalstead, drinking in enough flattery to turn his head,” laughed thegirl, catching sight of the young skipper.

  “Is Mr. Tremaine rising?” inquired Mrs. Tremaine.

  “No; sleeping like a log,” replied Dixon.

  “Then I’ll go in and arouse him,” declared Mrs. Tremaine. “I noticedfrom the stateroom port that we are running rather close to shore. Wemust be near the end of our present voyage.”

  Mrs. Tremaine disappeared into the starboard stateroom, but presentlylooked out again, bewilderment expressed on her face.

  “I can’t guess what’s the matter with Henry,” she confessed. “I’vecalled to him, and shaken him, but he doesn’t answer me. He’s breathingso heavily that I—I’m alarmed.”

  By this time Captain Tom Halstead was presentable enough to join theothers. After greeting the three, he followed Mrs. Tremaine and Dixonto the starboard stateroom.

  Henry Tremaine surely was breathing heavily—almost with a rattle,in fact. But Tom, pressing past the others, succeeded in making thecharter-man open his eyes.

  “All right,” he muttered, as though still in a daze. “I’ll get up,right away.”

  “I’ll stay and help you dress,” proposed Tom, upon which the other tworetreated.

  “Gracious! How my head feels!” groaned Tremaine, as he got unsteadilyonto his feet. Tom had to clutch at him and hold him.

  “I feel as though I had been drugged,” muttered Tremaine, slowly. “I—Ican’t half think, and my head aches, and is so dizzy——”

  “You’ll want to get in the air, then,” proposed the young skipper, asTremaine finished getting on the last of his clothes.

  “Where—are we?”

  “Why, since Mrs. Tremaine saw land from the port stateroom, I think wemust at least be in the mouth of Oyster Bay, sir.”

  “Then, if we’re going to land so soon,” proposed Henry Tremaine, “I mayas well get my money out. Halstead, be a good fellow. I feel so badthat I don’t dare bend over. Here are my steamer trunk keys. Open thetrunk and lift out the small iron box you’ll find there. I have tenthousand dollars in bills there. I’ll deposit the money on shore.”

  Halstead readily found the iron box, and placed it on the edge of theberth. Tremaine, still groaning about his head, fitted a key into thebox, and raised the strong lid.

  “What’s this?” Tremaine almost yelled, as soon as he had the iron boxopened.

  Tom Halstead looked, then gasped.

  “Why, there’s not a dollar—not a sou—in this box!” roared HenryTremaine. “Yesterday, there was ten thousand dollars in it!”

  His excited exclamations brought the other passengers to the doorway.

  “What’s the matter, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Tremaine.

  “Why,” exclaimed her husband, bewilderedly, “I appear to be out tenthousand dollars. The money was in this box yesterday afternoon.”

  “Robbed?” gasped Mrs. Tremaine.

  “So it would seem,” retorted her husband, dryly. “And—Jupiter! From theway my head feels, I’ve been drugged, too! Of course the thief had todrug me, in order to be sure that I wouldn’t wake up when he came induring the night.”

  “Who has had access to this cabin while we slept?” demanded OliverDixon. “That negro—Ham?”

  “No,” rejoined Tom Halstead, promptly. “Ham has been asleep in hisberth. I locked the door into the cabin. I’m the only one who hadaccess here.”

  “Do you know anything about where the money went to, Halstead?”inquired Mr. Tremaine, looking up at him.

  “I?” stammered the young sailing master of the “Restless.” “Certainlynot, sir!”

  “Then who does?” demanded Oliver Dixon, shooting a suspicious look atthe young captain.

  As Tom Halstead glanced swiftly from one face to another, something ofthe awful meaning of the situation flashed over him.

  “See here,” he muttered, hoarsely, “I hope none of you think _I_ coulddo anything like this! I? Rob my own passengers? Why, it would settlemy fate as a yacht commander all in an instant! No, no! You surely mustall see that I simply _couldn’t_ have done a thing like this!”