  After Don left the sloop Jim busied himself in straightening up the little ship, talking to Terry as the latter wrote his letter home. When the sloop was in first class order Jim sat idly in the cockpit, watching the ocean and the shore alternately. After a time, wearying of doing nothing, he got out a book on navigation, and began to study it. In this manner an hour went by, and it was Terry who called his attention to the fact that Don had been gone a long time. Jim put the book down and looked toward the shore. “That’s so, he has,” he replied. “He should be back by now. From the looks of things, that house isn’t ten minutes’ walk from the shore.” They waited around for another hour, and at the end of that time they were really worried. Jim was for going ashore at once, but Terry proved to have better sense. “I wouldn’t do it,” he urged. “It may be that someone has captured Don and is just waiting to have one of us walk right into their trap. But if Don doesn’t come back by nightfall we’ll have to do something, that’s sure.” “If Don doesn’t show up by nightfall we’ll swim ashore and hunt him up ourselves,” Jim decided. “Sure. It isn’t a pleasant outlook in any way, because, beside having to swim ashore, we’ll be forced to find our way around that island in the dark. What in the world do you suppose could have happened to him?” “I haven’t any idea, but I keep thinking of that man with the lantern. There isn’t any doubt that something has happened to him, or he would at least let us know somehow that he was all right. I hate to sit here and wait.” Waiting, Jim found, was the hardest part of all. They spent a miserable afternoon just sitting there, eagerly watching the dinghy on the shore. But no one came to move it and it lay there on its side. Both of the boys had the sensation of being watched. “I just feel it,” Jim said, as they discussed it. “I’ll bet you someone is hiding there in that dense undergrowth, just watching us. After all, I think it would be useless to go ashore at this point. As soon as it gets dark we’ll pull up anchor, drop down the shore a way, and I’ll go ashore.” “I’m going with you,” declared Terry, promptly. But Jim shook his head firmly. “Nothing doing, Terry. Somebody has got to guard the Lassie. What would happen to us if the ship was taken? If the worst comes to the worst you’ll have to sail to the main shore and get help. I mean if I should fail to show up.” “I don’t know how to sail it alone,” Terry objected. Jim leaped to his feet. “Then I’ll show you right now. We’ve got to prepare for an emergency. There isn’t much to learn.” For the next half hour Jim showed Terry how to start the engine, and how to control it from the tiller. When he had finished a slight dusk was beginning to steal over the water, and the boys impatiently awaited the time for action. Both of them went through the motions of eating, though neither was at all hungry. Slowly, almost painfully, the darkness crept over the sea. When it had grown so dark that they could not see the shore Jim went into action. “We’ll have to hoist the sail and move down the shore,” he said, walking forward. “And we’ve got to be careful about it, too. The night is pretty still, and they’ll hear the creaking of the blocks on shore if we don’t take care. First, I’ll lash down the tiller.” This having been accomplished, Jim instructed Terry in the method of hauling the mainsail up. On opposite sides of the mast they pulled the halyards, until the sail, still with the two reefs in it, was spread against the black sky. When the jib had been placed in position Jim took the tiller, and under a gentle breeze the Lassie began to sail quietly down the coast. In fifteen minutes Jim was satisfied, and he and Terry quickly lowered the sails and trimmed them, lashing them fast to the boom. Then Jim went below and changed into an old shirt and a pair of trousers, reappearing on deck a few minutes later. Although they could not see the shore, they knew that it lay off their bow. “If I don’t show up by noontime tomorrow,” Jim said, as he dangled his feet over the stern, “don’t wait around any longer. Sail across to the mainland and get help. You may find it a bit hard to sail the sloop alone, but it can be done. Simply give any other boat a wide berth and you won’t run into ’em. Keep your eyes open all night, either for my return or for some enemy. I hate to go away and leave you alone all night.” Terry grasped his hand. “I hate to think of you wandering around all night alone on the island. Good luck, kid.” “Thanks. See you later.” Noiselessly, Jim slid over the side and into the water, disappearing from Terry’s view as he sank under the waves. In a second he reappeared and struck out vigorously for the shore. Both Terry and the boat were lost to his view as he forged his way through the water that was as black as the sky. It was not long before Jim struck bottom, and he stood upon his feet. The island was just ahead of him, and he pushed his way steadily through the water, his upward progress steady, until he stood upon the shore of the dark island. Then, after pausing to listen for a time, he walked up the sand and entered the woods. He was at a complete loss as to which way to turn, but judging that the house lay north, he walked in that direction. His clothing was dripping wet, but as the night was hot, he did not mind it. He found that he was at the bottom of a hill, and at first decided not to climb it, but realizing that he could see any light on the island from a hilltop, he resolved to go on. So he pushed his way forward through the undergrowth, feeling his way with infinite care, and at length stood on the top of the hill. As soon as he had looked around with care, he was glad that he had come. For, although he could not make out the details of the island, he could see below him, distant by a half mile, the light from a house. It was indistinct, but he knew that it was flooding out of a window on a ground floor room. “That’s the place,” Jim decided, and hastened down the other side of the hill, guiding himself by the light as it came to him through the trees. When he reached the ground level, however, he could not see it any more, and he was compelled to trust to a general sense of direction. But he had fixed it firmly in his mind, and in less than an hour’s painful toil through the black woods he arrived at last at the front of the house. Somewhere inside Don must be, perhaps a prisoner, perhaps even hurt. The light still shone from the single window, which was a front one just off the main section of the house, in a wing, and there were no shutters or shades over it. The long, rambling porch ran under it. Stealing silently over the rank grass that choked the front yard of the house Jim cautiously approached the beam of light. He had hoped to stand on the ground and look in, preferring to trust the firm earth rather than the boards of the porch, but he found that in order to see in at all he would be compelled to mount the rickety steps. So he went to the short flight, stepping quietly up them, and tiptoed across the rotting porch. Coming to the window, he carefully thrust his head forward and looked into the room. Benito and Frank were seated in the room, before an open fireplace, in which a wood fire snapped and smoked. The house was wet and cold, and the men had made the fire earlier in the evening. Benito was smoking, and the smaller man was chewing on a piece of straw, staring into the fire. A corner of the window glass had been broken and Jim could hear perfectly everything that was said. Frank was speaking when Jim, after having looked around the room for a trace of Don, turned his full attention to the men. Scarcely daring to breathe, Jim listened breathlessly. “Marcy says the boys moved the boat about a half mile down the shore,” the little man was saying. Benito nodded, blowing a ring of smoke toward the ceiling. “They must have suspected that we’d be out after them before long. They won’t dare to go away from the island while we have the brother, and they will be on the lookout. Soon as Marcy comes back we’ll go after the other two.” Jim felt his blood chill as the facts of the case came to him. The men had Don and were coming to take Terry and himself prisoner. They even knew where the Lassie was anchored. For the moment he was at his wit’s end, unable to decide whether to go back and warn Terry to sail away, or stay and try to save Don. He was trying to figure out just what their object was when Frank unconsciously helped him. “You figure it’ll be worth while to take in all three of them?” he asked. Benito nodded. “I don’t know a thing about that third fellow,” he admitted. “But I do know that Mr. Mercer will pay plenty to get his boys back home. Meanwhile we’ll grab the sloop, give it a new coat of paint, and realize a pretty little penny from it. By the time the new owner finds out how we got it, we’ll be out of the country and safe.” Jim’s eyes flashed fire, he clenched his teeth, and for a moment he had the impulse to smash his way through the window and hurl himself upon the two men. Realizing how rash and foolish such a move would be he controlled himself and waited, still uncertain as to what to do. He was tormented by the thought that he must decide wisely, for the wrong move might ruin everything. He wondered if Don was safe, and he was overjoyed to hear Frank’s next remark. “We’ve got the older Mercer boy safe enough. Like enough he’ll soon get hungry and write that note to his father.” “Oh, of course. It’s merely a matter of time. I judge that the boy is used to eating regularly and plenty, and I don’t think he’ll hold out long.” “How are we going to get the other two?” Frank asked. Benito looked at his watch. “Just as soon as Marcy gets back we’ll take the power boat and go out after them. We’ll muffle the oars and sneak up on ’em. I suppose they’ll be awake but it won’t take us long to overcome them. We’ll tow their sloop up the creek and take good care of it.” Jim was beginning to wonder uneasily where Marcy might be, but Frank’s next remark reassured him. “Marcy’s taking a look in on young Mercer, ain’t he?” “Yep. Just seeing if he is fixed for the night. The boy’s been very quiet, and I was just wondering——” At that moment rapid footsteps sounded in a hall outside of the room in which Benito and Frank sat, causing the two men to look in alarm at each other. Jim strained forward to see what was to happen next. A door opened hurriedly, and a rough-looking man with a week’s growth of beard burst into the room. Benito sprang to his feet. “What is it, Marcy?” he snapped. “That kid is gone!” the man gasped. “Pulled up some boards out of the floor and dropped into the cellar. We got to get him, or he’ll find the——” “Never mind,” shouted Benito. “You go down the hole after him. Frank and I will look around the grounds. That kid must not get away. What’s that?” “That” was an accident of serious nature. Jim had forgotten the porch he had been standing on, and he had pressed too near the house. The boards at that point were rotten, and with a crash that sounded like the explosion of a cannon they went through. |
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