CHAPTER VII ONCE MORE ON COCKBURN ISLAND

Previous

“Who’s that on board the Gadabout?” roared the captain. “What are you doing there, you lubber?”

“I guess you know who I am,” replied the man on deck, who now the boys were convinced was indeed the mysterious stranger.

Both boys were startled, as they looked into the face of the captain, who was now rowing swiftly toward the little motor-boat. Whether the expression on his face was one of anger or of fear was not known by either. The man, however, was keenly excited and his anxiety to gain his boat became apparent with every stroke of his oars.

In a brief time he swung the skiff alongside the Gadabout and without making any effort to board the boat the captain roared, “What are you doing on board there?”

“I came back to get something that I thought might be here, which I didn’t take with me,” said Mr. Button quietly. It was manifest from his appearance that he was in nowise alarmed by the noisy questions of the captain of the Gadabout.

“Well, did you find it?” demanded the captain.

“I cannot say that I have—as yet.”

“I guess that depends on what you’re looking for,” said the captain, his voice becoming lower, although his excitement was still manifest.

“I didn’t suppose there would be any such feeling over my coming back to your boat. I have known of other men who neglected to take some things with them when they left home, to say nothing about a motor-boat.”

“Did you say you found it?” again demanded the captain.

“I found something that will do me just as well.”

For a moment the two men stared at each other, the captain still keenly suspicious or angry, while the expression on the face of Mr. Button was one which the boys were not able to understand. To all appearances he was unruffled by the noisy queries of the captain, and yet what was behind it all no one could say.

There was nothing, however, more to be done and in a brief time Mr. Button stepped into his skiff in which the man, who was to be his guide, was still seated. Without any delay the guide picked up his oars and resumed his rowing.

Meanwhile the captain remained standing on the deck of the Gadabout, glaring at the departing skiff, although he did not utter any sound until the man of whom he was suspicious or afraid had rounded the nearest point.

“Better get your leaders, captain, because we want to start,” suggested Fred impatient over the long delay.

“Humph,” grunted the captain. Nevertheless he disappeared below and in a brief time came back to the deck with a box in his hands.

“That’s the same box you took out this morning, isn’t it, Captain?” laughed John.

“What’s that you say?” roared the sailor.

“I said, isn’t that the same box of leaders that you took out this morning?”

“Well I’ll have to own up that it is,” said the captain. “I had it in my pocket all the while and I thought I dropped it overboard. We’ll make up for lost time now, so get aboard, both of you.”

To the surprise of the young fishermen, however, the captain did not return to the ground over which he had been fishing at the time of his unexpected return to the Gadabout. Instead, he followed swiftly in the direction in which Mr. Button had disappeared. Both boys questioned him sharply concerning the change in their plans, but the only reply their guide made was to explain that he thought the fishing was likely to be better in the direction in which he was going than where they had been before.

Fred winked slyly at his companion when several times the captain ceasing his efforts took a glass and drank of the waters of the lake and then taking from his pocket a jointed telescope gazed long and earnestly in the direction in which they were moving.

“What’s the trouble, Captain? What are you looking for?” demanded Fred.

“I wanted to see if that man’s got on my ground.”

“Do you see him anywhere?”

“No, I don’t. I wish I did.”

“Who is he, anyway?” inquired John. “You seem to have a pretty wholesome respect for him.”

“What’s that you say? What’s that you say?” demanded the captain sharply, as he glared at John.

“Why, what I said,” explained John, “was that you seem to be very much impressed by him. Do you know who he is?”

“I don’t know nothin’ about him,” retorted the captain, resuming his occupation once more.

When at last the captain declared that they had arrived at the grounds he was seeking the boys renewed their attempts of the morning. For some reason, however, all their efforts were unavailing. Either the fish were not there, or they were not biting.

“I believe, Captain,” said John, at last, “that you were more interested in following that man than you are in getting a good shoal for us to fish over.”

“What’s that you say?” retorted the captain. “It’s no such thing. It’s no such thing. I don’t care about that man any more than I do about—you.”

“You have a strange way of showing it, then,” suggested Fred with a laugh.

“I tell you what I’ll do, boys,” said the captain at last. “If we don’t have any luck here by noon I’ll take you across the channel and we’ll try it ’long Cockburn Island.”

“But we haven’t any right to fish there. That’s in Canadian waters,” said John quickly.

“Well, I have a permit,” explained the captain.

“Good for us, too?” inquired Fred.

“Yes, good for you, too.”

Both boys were somewhat dubious as to the extent of the permission secured by the captain, but they made no protest. Swiftly the little boat was rowed across the intervening waters and in a brief time, under the shelter of the bluffs of the island they were seeking, preparations were made for resuming their sport.

“We don’t want many fish just now,” said the captain.

“That’s lucky for us,” laughed Fred.

“What I mean is, that we want something for dinner, but that’s about all. After dinner we’ll see what we can do with our luck.”

When the time came for landing, the captain turned to the boys and said, “Before I start a fire I want to go up to that house yonder for a minute.”

“We’ll go with you,” suggested Fred, winking at John as he spoke.

“No, no,” said the captain sharply. “You stay right here on the shore. If you want to you can start a fire and have things goin’ so that when I come back everything will be ready.”

“What do you suppose is the matter with the captain?” inquired John after the departure of their guide.

“Why he’s either afraid of or he doesn’t like that Mr. Button. Maybe he’s the man that wrote that letter.”

“More likely he’s the man that the other fellow wrote the letter about,” laughed John. “I think myself that the old fellow will bear watching.”

“I haven’t seen anything in him that I thought was wrong,” said Fred. “Naturally he doesn’t waste very much affection on the officials of the law.”

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t,” broke in John. “Unless there’s something wrong with him.”

“There may be something wrong as far as the law is concerned, but I guess the old fellow himself thinks he’s right. You know there are a good many people that do that.”

“What do you suppose he’s up to?”

“I don’t believe anybody knows, not even the captain himself. I guess it’s his general principles. He’s opposed to everything.”

“Do you think this Mr. Button is anything more than he appears to be?”

“I’m not sure,” said Fred thoughtfully. “It may be that he knows a good deal more than he explains and it may be that letter he got, which was sent to me first, has made him suspicious of the captain. I don’t myself believe there’s anything the matter with the captain anyway.”

“Look yonder!” said John quickly, dropping the fish, which he was cleaning, as he spoke. “Isn’t that Mr. Button himself?”

Hastily looking in the direction indicated by his friend Fred was silent for a moment and then said, “That’s just who it is. What do you suppose he’s doing here on this island?”

“He isn’t on the island yet. I’ll tell you later what he does, that is, if he lands. Don’t let him see us.”

Hastily moving behind the high bushes, though neither boy could explain just why he did so, they watched their fellow-guest, as his skiff was swiftly sent ashore and Mr. Button himself stepped out upon the land.

It was plain that he was not aware of the presence of the boys and that all his movements were being keenly watched.

The interest of the boys, however, was speedily increased and in a brief time both were highly excited when they saw Mr. Button take from his pocket a revolver, which he inspected carefully and after he had returned it to its place he at once started toward the house in the distance.

It was the same rude, little shanty in which the boys had found refuge the preceding day. Now, however the sun was shining brightly and the clear waters of the lake were reflecting its beams. There were no signs of life about the house on the shore, but both boys excitedly watched Mr. Button as he made his way across the fields and after a brief time approached the side door of the house and then entered the little building.

“Let’s go up to the house, too,” suggested Fred quickly.

“What for?”

“Why, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t go and if there’s any fun going on we want to be on hand.”

“I’m with you,” said John cordially, and as soon as they had banked their fire both boys started across the open field toward the house in the distance.

“I’m telling you,” said Fred in a low voice, “there’s something going on up in that house.”

“You always make a mountain out of a mole hill.”

“Well, perhaps I do, but I’m sure there’s something doing and they may need us before long.”

“Yes, probably they are wondering now why we don’t come,” laughed John.

“Just you wait,” retorted Fred. “You’ll see I’m right.”

“If I thought you were, I know of one fellow who wouldn’t go near that house.”

“But you’re going just the same,” said Fred positively.

There was no delay and after the boys had crossed the field they approached the kitchen-door of the rude, little house where Fred made known their presence by his noisy summons.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page