CHAPTER XXIII

  DIXON’S COWARDLY ACT

  IN the next half hour the hull streak of the “Buzzard” became largeenough for all aboard the “Restless” to see it with the naked eye.

  “We’re surely gaining,” cried Tremaine, joyously.

  “Not enough, sir,” replied Tom, shaking his head.

  “What do you mean, lad?”

  “Why, sir, if we don’t begin to gain faster, soon, then night will comedown on us in a few hours, and we won’t be able to make out enough tokeep that other boat in sight. She could change her course and slipaway.”

  “But her lights? It promises to be clear weather to-night.”

  Anxious as he was, Captain Tom Halstead did not entirely succeed insuppressing a grin.

  “An outlaw boat—a pirate craft, such as the ‘Buzzard’ is when engagedin a trick of this kind, isn’t likely to carry any visible lights atnight.”

  “Then we——”

  “We’ll have to, sir. This is an honest boat, sailing under the law.Only United States naval or revenue people, on board, could legallyauthorize this craft to sail at night without lights, and then onlyunder stress of great need.”

  “We have police officers on board.”

  “They don’t count in an excuse for sailing at night without mastheadand side lights showing,” Captain Tom replied, gravely. “The wholestory is told, sir, when I say that our only chance lies in getting soclose to the ‘Buzzard’ before dark that, lights or no lights, she can’tgive us the slip in the dark.”

  “Then the chances are all against our success, aren’t they?” inquiredMrs. Tremaine.

  “Yes, madam,” replied the young sailing master.

  Henry Tremaine, who had put away the marine glass, began to tramp thedeck at starboard, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  “Halstead,” he cried, desperately, at last, “what can we do—no matterwhat the cost—to get up closer to that pirate craft!”

  “Nothing more than we’re doing now, sir.”

  “Can’t we burn more gasoline?”

  “Not without heating the motors so that we’d be stopped altogetherwithin a few minutes.”

  “How far are we away from the ‘Buzzard’?”

  “Probably five miles, at least.”

  “Then, even if we gained half a mile an hour for ten hours, we’d justbarely get alongside?”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  “Whereas, in a good deal less than ten hours, it will be dark?”

  “Right again, Mr. Tremaine.”

  “Then,” uttered Henry Tremaine, with a look of disgust, “we might aswell put back and loaf along our way into the harbor at Tampa.”

  “But we won’t do it,” declared Tom Halstead, with spirit.

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because I’m in command here, Mr. Tremaine. We’re after a scoundrel,and the officers are ready to do their duty. No matter how long thechase is, I simply _won’t_ give it up until I find that the ‘Buzzard’is wholly out of sight and past our powers of overtaking.”

  “Jove! You’ve got the right grit!” replied the charter-man, admiringly.“But, as it’s going to take hours, anyway, I’m going to drop some ofmy excitement and get more comfort out of life. Can you spare youngRandolph?”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “Then, Jeff, get some luncheon for those who want it, myself included,”ordered the charter-man.

  Tom Halstead laughed enjoyingly.

  “That’s the most practical order you could give, Mr. Tremaine. We mayhave our whole hearts in this present business, but a good meal allaround won’t hinder the success of our work a bit.”

  The galley of the “Restless” being provided with food of kinds thatcould be speedily prepared, it was not long before Jeff had anappetizing meal laid in the cabin aft. Then Joe came up to the wheelwhile his chum partook of a quick meal in the motor room. That done,Tom took his place at the helm once more, while Joe Dawson and JeffRandolph ate.

  Joe’s jaw was squarely set when he came on deck the next time, thoughthis fact did not hide his look of concern.

  “You’d sooner cripple the motors than give up the race before you haveto?” the young engineer inquired, in a low voice.

  “There’s only one thing we’ll slow up for,” responded Halstead, lookingat his companion. “That will be if you think there’s danger of agasoline explosion.”

  “No! there’s no danger of that,” sighed Joe. “But the motors won’t holdout much longer at this speed. We’re going at least three miles an hourfaster than the engines were ever built to go.”

  “What’s our speed?” asked Henry Tremaine.

  “Just about thirty miles an hour, sir,” Joe Dawson answered. “I’vefollowed orders and am crowding every possible revolution withoutregard for anything but danger to life.”

  “You’re not running the ladies’ lives into danger, then?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good! That’s all I care about,” ordered the charter-man. “When thisday is over I’ll install newer and better engines for you, if these arehurt in any way, and I’ll pay you for whatever time the boat may belaid up for repairs.”

  “Say, but we’re gaining on them,” reported Captain Tom, a few minuteslater. “Do you notice how much larger the ‘Buzzard’s’ hull looms?”

  “It does,” agreed Tremaine. “That’s a certain fact.”

  Everybody, the Tampa officers included, crowded forward for a look.

  Watchful of the slightest variation of the helm, Captain Halsteadsteered the straightest line that his sea experience had taught him todo.

  “Great!” cried the charter-man. “If this keeps up, we’ll overhaul thosefellows before dark. But how do you account for our sudden success?”

  “I’ve a strong notion,” responded Dawson, “that those fellows on the‘Buzzard’ have had to slow down their engines to prevent a crash inthe machinery.”

  “If you can only keep yours going, then!”

  “I’m trying hard enough,” muttered Joe, holding up his oil can. “I amkeeping this thing in my hand all the time, now.”

  Within another quarter of an hour it was plain that further gains hadbeen made on the craft ahead.

  Joe now felt warranted in easing up ever so little on his own motors,yet he was careful not to shut off too much speed.

  “It’s odd that our two vessels should be the only ones in sight,”remarked Mrs. Tremaine, as the race continued down the Florida coast.

  “There isn’t a heap of commerce on this side of Florida,” Halsteadanswered. “As like as not we’ll not sight another craft all afternoon.”

  In another hour the distance between the two motor boats was less thantwo and a half miles. Joe eased up just a trifle more, then came ondeck, his eyes glowing.

  “The ‘Buzzard’s’ engineer didn’t take all the care of his motors thathe ought to have done at the start,” guessed Dawson. “Now he’s sorry, Ireckon.”

  “Have you a little time to spare, Joe?” queried Halstead, who did notquit the wheel.

  “I guess so. What can I do?”

  “Get the code book and the signal bunting. Have Jeff help you rig up asignal, and hoist it to the head of the signal mast.”

  “What signal?” queried the young engineer.

  “Signal: ‘Lie to. We are after criminal on your vessel.’”

  For some moments Joe ran through the pages of the code book. Then heselected the signal flags, while Jeff Randolph fastened them to ahalyard in the proper order.

  “All complete,” announced Joe. “Hoist away.”

  Up went the line of bunting, breaking out gracefully. There was justenough breeze to spread the signals clearly.

  “Let the cap’n of the ‘Buzzard’ pass that by if he thinks best,”muttered one of the Tampa officers, dryly.

  “He could declare, afterwards, that he didn’t observe our signal,” TomHalstead remarked, thoughtfully.

  “He could, suh, sutt
’nly, but we wouldn’t believe him.”

  Though the other motor boat was still well in the lead, it was notgaining in relative distance, but rather slowly losing. No one showedaft on the “Buzzard,” and no heed was paid to the signal flutteringfrom the signal mast of the “Restless.”

  “We’ve simply got to keep this up until we run within hail,” mutteredTremaine.

  “Too bad we’re not a revenue cutter,” sighed Skipper Tom.

  “What, then?”

  “We’d have a bow-gun, and could fire a shot past the ‘Buzzard.’”

  “Yo’ get us a good bit nearer, Cap’n, an’ maybe we can fire a shot pasther, anyway,” spoke up one of the Tampa policemen.

  “Eh?” asked Tom.

  “We’ve noticed, suh, that yo’ have rifles on bo’d. Nothin’ to stop usfrom sending a bullet by the other craft, only we’ve got to be mightycareful, suh, not to hit anyone on the ‘Buzzard.’”

  “We’ll have you, in thirty minutes, I guess, where you can use arifle,” chuckled the young motor boat captain.

  After twenty minutes the officer who had proposed the use of the riflewent below for one of the weapons. Armed with this, he first inspectedthe magazine, then stood well forward on the bridge deck at the portside. Presently, after judging his distance, the officer raised therifle, sighted carefully, and fired.

  Over the deck-house of the “Buzzard” a man’s head and shoulders werevisible, as he stood, facing the bow, at the steering wheel.

  An instant after the red flash leaped from the muzzle of the rifle thissteersman on the other craft “ducked” suddenly, crouching for a fewseconds before he ventured to rise.

  “He shuah heard the bullet whistle by him,” chuckled the otherpoliceman.

  “I must have shot proper close,” remarked the marksman. “I don’t meanto hit anybody, either.”

  After two or three minutes the man with the rifle fired again.

  This time the man at the “Buzzard’s” wheel did not dodge. Instead, hehalf turned, looking swiftly astern.

  “Too—oo—oot!” sounded his whistle. Next, the “Buzzard’s” speed sloweddown, after which the craft swung around.

  “He gives it up!” shouted Tom Halstead, gleefully.

  Yet the next instant Tom and the others on the deck of the “Restless”cried out in horror.

  Oliver Dixon had suddenly sprung up the after companionway of the“Buzzard.” In his right hand the young man clutched a revolver. Hewaved his left hand to the oncoming pursuers, after which he raised theweapon to his temple.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  CONCLUSION

  “THE coward!” burst from Henry Tremaine’s lips. Then, springing towardhis wife and Ida Silsbee, he cried, hoarsely:

  “Look away! Turn your backs!”

  “It’s all right, I guess,” came from Tom Halstead, a few moments later.

  For the man who had been at the “Buzzard’s” helm had darted swiftlyaft, leaped upon Oliver Dixon from behind, and borne him to the deck.

  Just an instant later a glistening object was seen to whirl through theair and drop into the sea.

  “It’s all right, now,” called Captain Tom Halstead. “They’re fightingall over the deck, but Dixon is no match for the other fellow.”

  The “Restless” continued to cover the intervening distance at goodspeed. After a while the “Buzzard’s” helmsman was seen to yank OliverDixon to his feet and thrust him down, the companionway into the cabin.

  “You take the wheel, now, Jeff,” directed Halstead, reaching out forthe megaphone.

  In a few minutes they were running alongside the other craft.

  “‘Buzzard,’ ahoy!” hailed Tom Halstead.

  “‘Restless,’ ahoy!” came the answer after some hesitation on the partof the “Buzzard.” “Have you been pursuing us?”

  “Think of something else to ask,” retorted Skipper Tom, sarcastically.

  “Have you any legal right to take our passenger from us?”

  “You’re in Florida waters, and we have Florida peace officers on board,who seek a thief,” Halstead responded. “The water’s smooth enough;shall we run alongside of you, instead of lowering a boat?”

  “Yes, if you can do it without scratching our paint,” came the assentfrom the “Buzzard.”

  “Do you take us for lubbers, after winning such a stiff race from you?”retorted Captain Halstead, ironically. “Look out, then. We’re going torange up alongside and board you.”

  Jeff sped along the port rail, throwing over the fenders. Then the twomotor craft bumped gently together. A deck-hand appeared on the othercraft.

  “Throw us your bow line, and take our stern line,” requested the youngmotor boat captain.

  These lines, fore and aft, were soon secured. Then the two Tampapolicemen crossed to the other boat, followed by Henry Tremaine. Tomand Joe brought up the rear, leaving Jeff Randolph on the bridge deckof the “Restless.”

  “Your man is locked in the cabin,” announced the skipper of the“Buzzard,” a man of fifty. “I’ll unlock the door for you.”

  “When this had been done the two Tampa policeman descended first.

  “You’re our prisoner, Dixon,” declared one of the officers.

  “I guess I am, all right,” came the dogged answer.

  “We’ll have to put these on yo’, suh.”

  “Handcuffs?” rose the voice of Oliver Dixon, in protest. “Ugh! Suchthings belong to felons!”

  “Well, suh, what do yo’ consider yo’se’f!” demanded the policeman.

  A groan that was almost a sob escaped the prisoner. Those waiting aboveheard the steel circlets click. Then they descended.

  Oliver Dixon sat on one of the transom seats in the little cabin, hisface a ghastly gray.

  “I guess you’re glad to see this, Halstead?” demanded the prisoner,holding up his manacled hands.

  “As sorry as I can be!” retorted Tom Halstead, heartily. “It’s a toughsight, Dixon.”

  “It certainly is,” groaned Henry Tremaine, turning to hide his face.

  “If your ward, Tremaine, had been kind enough to accept me, I neverwould have come to this pass,” declared the young man, coolly.

  “Silence!” commanded Tremaine, sternly. “Don’t dare couple MissSilsbee’s name with your own dishonored one!”

  “Are you going to take me back to Tampa on this boat?” inquired OliverDixon after a moment’s silence.

  “On the ‘Restless’,” replied one of the policemen.

  “You are going to bring me face to face—after this—with Mr. Tremaine’sladies?” demanded Dixon, paling still more. “That’s tough treatment.”

  “You’ll have to go on the ‘Restless,’” insisted the policeman. “We havenothing to do with this craft.”

  President Haight, who had at first remained on the “Restless,” now cameover the side, appearing at the after companionway.

  “Is the money safe?” inquired the bank man, huskily.

  “You’ll find it all in the satchel in that stateroom,” stated Dixon,nodding at the door of the apartment in question.

  The satchel was quickly brought out. Haight, as the most expertmoney-counter, was assigned to the task of counting then and there,which he did at the cabin table.

  “Sixty thousand dollars, less seven hundred,” he announced, finally.“Dixon, where’s the missing seven hundred?”

  “Ask Captain Beeman,” rejoined the prisoner, nodding at the commanderof the “Buzzard.”

  Captain Beeman looked at once alarmed.

  “Why, gentlemen, that seven hundred dollars is what your friend——”

  “Our prisoner,” interrupted Haight.

  “It’s what your prisoner paid me to take him to the coast of Mexico.”

  “As it is stolen money, Captain Beeman,” rejoined Mr. Haight, frigidly,“I reckon you’ll have to give it up.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” argued Beeman, hoarsely. “I accepted themoney, and I didn’t know it to
be stolen.”

  “No, of course; you didn’t even suspect, when your passenger agreedto an exorbitant price for his fare to the Mexican coast,” jeered thebank man. “You had so little suspicion, in fact, that you caused us toall but ruin our engines in the effort to reach you. You ignored ourbunting signals after we hoisted them.”

  “I didn’t see your signals,” protested Beeman, with an injured air. “Istopped as soon as you fired, and I realized——”

  “When you realized that we meant business,” sneered the policeman whohad handled the rifle.

  “We could not prove to the satisfaction of a court that Beemandeliberately tried to aid a fugitive to escape,” broke in Tremaine,rather impatiently. “Haight, we’ll let this captain keep his passagemoney. I’ll make the amount good, for, at least, Beeman promptly andproperly foiled Dixon’s effort to destroy himself. So keep your passagemoney, Captain Beeman.”

  “I thank you, sir,” cried the commander of the “Buzzard,” his eyeslighting up with pleasure.

  “None the less, Captain,” went on Tremaine, dryly, “my private opinionis that you would have gone on laughing at us had the fates favoredyou.”

  “You wouldn’t have got the money again, if I could have prevented it,”sneered young Mr. Dixon. “I’d have burned it, only I saw I hadn’t time.I’d have thrown the satchel overboard, but I knew it would float. Theonly weight I could find was my revolver, and I knew that wouldn’t beheavy enough to make the satchel sink with all that paper in it.”

  “You’re going back to Port Tampa, aren’t you, Captain?” demanded one ofthe policemen of Beeman. “We are not going to arrest you, but we maywant you as a witness.”

  “I’ll go back to the port,” nodded the commander of the “Buzzard.”

  As Oliver Dixon stepped over the rail and onto the deck of the“Restless,” he hung his head, his gaze wandering along the seams of thedeck. Mrs. Tremaine and Ida averted their eyes. Dixon was led below.With one of the policemen he was locked in the very port stateroom inwhich he had committed the theft of the ten thousand dollars.

  For he afterwards admitted drugging and robbing Henry Tremaine. He alsoacknowledged that it was he who had sprung and fastened the door thathad almost smothered Captain Halstead in the air chamber compartment.

  When the two white men and the two negroes whom Captain Tom hadbrought in triumph out of the Everglades were arraigned for trial fortheir various offenses against the law, they confessed that they hadconstituted the once famous “Ghost of Alligator Swamp.” This ghostlybusiness of theirs had been carried on for the purpose of frighteninghunters and cottagers away from Lake Okeechobee that their camps orbungalows might be robbed of any supplies. Occasionally, too, UncleTobey had succeeded in charging a goodly fee for “exorcising” theghost away from one bungalow or another, and these fees Uncle Tobey hadalways divided with the members of the gang. These members of the gangwere all sent to the penitentiary for offenses committed in the past.Uncle Tobey, too, was “put away” on a charge of swindling.

  Sim confessed that Oliver Dixon had met him in the woods, that night,and had urged him to abduct Captain Tom Halstead, representing thatHenry Tremaine would readily pay three thousand dollars for the youngman’s safety. In Tom’s absence Dixon had hoped to put his own plansthrough.

  Within a few days it turned out that Oliver Dixon was wanted in thenorth for an act of dishonesty that he had believed would never betraced to him. As Tremaine was disinclined to drag his own householdthrough the courts as witnesses, he arranged with the Floridaauthorities to drop the charge against Dixon, allowing him to beextradited to the Northern state where the young man was also wanted.Dixon is now serving a term in prison for embezzlement.

  Six months afterwards Ida Silsbee became engaged to a cavalry officerin the Army, to whom she is now married.

  The motors of the “Restless” proved to be uninjured. The boat and hercrew remained for some weeks longer under charter to Henry Tremaine,most of the time being spent in cruising in Florida waters.

  The Ghost of Alligator Swamp was so effectually laid that it has neverbeen heard from since by the residents of lower Florida.

  Jeff Randolph remained for some weeks aboard the “Restless,” learningmore and more about the work and the life. He is now a member of theMotor Boat Club, and mate aboard one of the largest motor yachts inSouthern waters.

  Ham Mockus is now assistant steward on one of the Havana boats.

  Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson? They remained afloat, of course. They hadtheir most stirring adventures and their most thrilling experienceswith sea perils yet ahead of them, as will be related in the nextvolume of this series, which will be published at once under the title:“THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AT THE GOLDEN GATE; Or, A Thrilling Capture in theGreat Fog.”

  [THE END.]

  * * * * *

  Transcriber’s Notes:

  Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

  Page 51, “anyhing” changed to “anything” (know anything about)

  Page 100, “diminshed” changed to “diminished” (at somewhat diminished)

  Page 154, “noisless” changed to “noiseless” (though noiseless as)

  Page 168, “Tremiane” changed to “Tremaine” (Henry Tremaine secured)

  Page 173, “musn’t” changed to “mustn’t” (I mustn’t scare)

  Page 173, “take” changed to “taken” (you had taken an)

  Page 186, “undertsood” changed to “understood” (the Florida boyunderstood)

 
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