CHAPTER IV

  “BOAT-CALL FOR THE POLICE”

  “WE’D certainly hate to believe anything of the sort,” said OliverDixon, slowly, in a half-purring tone, though reluctant suspicionsounded in his voice.

  “I wouldn’t believe _that_—not if anyone swore himself as aneye-witness,” declared Ida Silsbee, promptly.

  Skipper Tom thanked her with a swift, eloquent glance.

  “It _would_ seem absurd,” declared Mrs. Tremaine, though there was thebriefest touch of hesitation in her tone.

  “Confound my buzzing head! I don’t know what to say yet,” grumbledHenry Tremaine.

  “I want this matter investigated to the very bottom,” protestedHalstead, his voice shaking as no terror of the hurricane could havemade it shake.

  “Oh, well, the money must be somewhere on board, unless the one whotook it threw it into the sea,” replied Henry Tremaine, pullinghimself to his feet.

  “And we won’t let anyone off this yacht, either, until the search hasbeen made to the very end,” declared Tom Halstead. “Everybody and everynook and corner must stand search.”

  “For that matter,” smiled Oliver Dixon, dully, “there must be countlesslittle nooks and crannies on this boat where anyone knowing the craftcould tuck away a small bundle of banknotes.”

  “I’ll show every nook and cranny I know,” retorted Tom, turning almostfiercely on Dixon. “So will Joe Dawson. And, to prove our good faith,we’ll let the police authorities bring on board as many men as theylike whose knowledge will fit them to search a craft like this.”

  “Captain Halstead,” asked Ida Silsbee, stepping forward, speaking verysoftly, while her cheeks glowed, “will you take my hand?”

  In sheer gratitude Captain Tom seized the dainty hand offered him,pressing it hard, while Oliver Dixon looked on, green-eyed withjealousy.

  “Won’t you let me offer my hand, too, Captain Halstead?” asked Mrs.Tremaine.

  Tom grasped hers, in turn.

  “Oh, hang it all,” cried Henry Tremaine, “ten thousand dollars isn’tall the money in the world. It isn’t all the money in _my_ littleworld, either. This will all come out all right. I want to be a decentfellow, and I would be, too, if this raging head of mine would only letme.”

  “I’ll help you to a seat, dear, and bathe your head,” suggested Mrs.Tremaine, to which suggestion her husband assented.

  “I must go on deck, now—simply _must_,” announced Halstead. “Yet I’dfeel better about it if one of you could come up with me—just to seethat I don’t dispose of the money, you know,” he added, with a wanattempt at a smile.

  “I’m not needed here; I’ll go with you, Captain,” spoke up Ida Silsbee.

  “No, no, no!” protested Dixon, almost hoarsely, as he pressed forward.“_I_ will go.”

  “By all means, Mr. Dixon, if you wish,” replied Ida Silsbee, flashing acurious look at him. “But I’m going with Captain Halstead, anyway, andI think you might better remain here, to be of possible service to Mrs.Tremaine.”

  “But—but you’ll be in danger on deck,” objected Dixon.

  “I doubt it,” retorted Ida Silsbee, with a toss of her head. “But evenso, I shall be in the care of two whose bravery I have been made torespect.”

  “As you will, then,” replied Dixon, in what he meant to be a coaxingvoice. Yet his scowling look followed Tom Halstead.

  “It was tremendously good of you——” murmured the young skipper, as thetwo walked through the passageway.

  “What? To believe you honest?” inquired the girl. “I can’t believe thatyoung men as cool and brave, and as unmindful of fatigue, as you twohave been through the night can be anything but staunch and honest.”

  “Thank you. Now, wait a moment, please, until I call out to Ham topull his berth curtains before you pass through the motor room,” urgedHalstead.

  It took him a minute or so to rouse Ham Mockus and make that stewardcomprehend. Then the young skipper led the girl into the motor room.

  “It’ll be pretty wet on deck, even yet,” hinted the lad, pausing in themotor room. “Here’s an oilskin coat. You had better slip it on.”

  After helping her into the enveloping garment, Halstead assisted her tostep onto the bridge deck.

  “Better get a tight hold on the life-lines, Miss Silsbee,” he urged.

  Joe Dawson, dog tired, was glad none the less, that his chum hadbeen able to snatch some rest. Joe nodded brightly to both, then thesight of the young captain’s drawn face caught the young engineer’sattention.

  “What on earth is the matter, Tom?” he demanded.

  “During the night ten thousand dollars belonging to Mr. Tremaine hasdisappeared.”

  “No!” exploded Joe, incredulously.

  “It seems to be a fact, though,” Tom nodded, dully. “Let me have thewheel. Then stand by and I’ll tell you about it.”

  The “Restless” was, as Halstead had supposed, now running in at themouth of Oyster Bay. Though the water was rough, here at the mouth, itwas noticeably smoother than it had been out on the Gulf. A good dealof spray dashed over the bow and rail from starboard. It was broaddaylight, though a gray, drizzly morning. The low, sandy coast, withscant forestry, looked uninviting enough in the dull light.

  As for Skipper Tom, he took only a long enough look at his surroundingsto make out where he was. Then he plunged into his story, while MissSilsbee walked down by the cabin deck-house.

  “Naturally, perhaps,” Tom finished, “there’s almost a suspicion that Igot the money.”

  “You?” gasped Joe, thunderstruck. All his belief in his comrade wasexpressed in the explosive, unbelieving way that he uttered thatsingle syllable, “you.”

  “Of course I haven’t touched the money,” Tom pursued, dully, as hethrew the wheel over to avoid the worst force of an onrolling big wave.“But yet you can’t blame Mr. Tremaine, if he wonders, can you?”

  “I blame him for poor judgment of human nature, anyway!” vented JoeDawson, hotly.

  “Bravo, Mr. Dawson!” applauded Ida Silsbee, and Joe turned toacknowledge this championship with a graceful bow.

  “When we reach anchor, presently,” Tom went on, doggedly, “I’m going tosound the whistle for the police, and I mean to have every man on boardsearched from top to toe. That failing, we’ll search every corner ofthe boat itself.”

  “Oh, you and I can stand a search, all right,” declared Joe, cheerily,only to add, glumly:

  “But to think that such a thing as that could happen aboard the‘Restless’! I tell you, I——”

  He had been about to declare his suspicion of Oliver Dixon, whom hehad disliked almost from the first, when Joe suddenly recollected MissSilsbee’s presence. Dixon was paying court to this girl, and Dawsonwanted to play fairly.

  Through Halstead’s mind, however, the same suspicion of the young manwas running. For now the young skipper remembered the vial in which hehad seen Dixon dissolving something. Captain Halstead also rememberedhaving, through the peep-hole, seen Dixon pour some of the contents ofthe vial into the water bottle on the sideboard.

  “And Mr. Tremaine is the only one of the passengers who takes a glassof water the last thing before turning in,” flashed through theyouthful skipper’s mind.

  The hatchway opened to admit another arrival on deck. This time it wasDixon, who had only awaited his opportunity to gain the deck before IdaSilsbee could prevent.

  “You came on deck, anyway,” was the girl’s rather chilly greeting. Joehaving fallen back from the wheel, Miss Silsbee stepped up beside theyouthfull skipper, as though determined to give Dixon no chance for hersociety. Joe Dawson was quick to follow this up by saying:

  “Mr. Dixon, if you’ve the time to spare, I’d like to have you walk aftwith me. I’ve one or two things I’m burning to ask.”

  “Well?” demanded the young man, as they reached the after deck.

  “How did Captain Halstead happen to get locked in with the aircompartment last night?”


  “How do I know?” muttered the young man, paling slightly.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do _you_ suspect any of our crew of taking Mr. Tremaine’s money?”persisted Joe.

  “Why, that would be a fearful thing to say.”

  “Don’t you care to answer me?”

  “I don’t care to discuss the matter at all.”

  “Very good, sir,” returned Dawson, curtly. “That is all.”

  Turning on his heel, he left Dixon, the latter feeling queerlyuncomfortable, for, all the time they were talking together, Joe hadkept his own eyes turned keenly on Dixon’s.

  Miss Silsbee kept so close to Tom that Dixon, when he finally cameforward once more, soon made an excuse to go below.

  “Have you ever seen the town of Tres Arbores?” queried Halstead,something like three-quarters of an hour later.

  “Never,” replied Ida Silsbee.

  “Unless my chart lies, that’s Tres Arbores off the starboard bow,”Halstead continued.

  “Is that where Mr. Tremaine wants you to dock?”

  “It’s the present end of the voyage. We can’t dock, though, as thereis no dock there. We’ll have to anchor and row ashore to the littlelanding stage.”

  Joe, five minutes later, routed Ham up from below. That young coloredman came up rubbing his eyes, but he looked mightily pleased when hecaught sight of the nearby shore.

  “Ah reckon ole Satan didn’ ride dat gale all de way,” he grinned.“We’se done reach poht all right.”

  Joe, with the sounding lead, kept track of the depths here. Tom ran the“Restless” in to within a quarter of a mile of the landing stage, thenshut off speed, drifting under decreasing headway for some distance erehe gave the word for Joe and Ham to heave the anchor.

  Then, all at once, the whistle shrilled out, in a succession of longblasts.

  “What’s that for?” asked Miss Silsbee, curiously, when the din hadstopped.

  “Boat-call for the police,” replied Tom Halstead, reddening not alittle.