CHAPTER II
THE SCOUT OF THE KENNEBEC
AT nine o'clock on a bright sunshiny morning in August the usual groupwere gathered on the dock at Squirrel Island. Some were watching thearrival and departure of the different steamers, not forgetting thelittle _Nellie G._, plying between that summer resort and BoothbayHarbor, some three miles distant, with calls at other islands as thepassengers wished. Sailboats were getting ready to take parties out, someto fish, while others sought only the pleasure of the cruise itself.Small launches came up to the low-lying float for men and women to get onboard, while others were rowed out in small boats to the anchored craft.
By and by the attention of most of the spectators was fixed upon thebeautiful _Deerfoot_, which, putting out from the lower end of SouthportIsland opposite, was heading toward Squirrel. The picture had becomefamiliar to all and they admired the grace and symmetry of the launchwhich had won the reputation of being the swiftest of its kind in thosewaters. It was known that she was owned by Alvin Landon, the son of amillionaire who had built a handsome bungalow on Southport, where he wasexpected to spend his vacation days, though, as we know, he passedprecious few of them there. Alvin was holding the wheel of his boat,while directly behind him sat his chum, Chester Haynes, calmly watchingtheir approach to the floating dock.
The third member of the crew was our old friend Mike Murphy, whoseofficial rank was first mate. Instead of sitting among his companions,the Irish lad had gone to the stern, where he sat with his legs curled upunder him tailor fashion. He could not get much farther in that directionwithout slipping overboard. The figure of Mike was so striking that hedrew more attention than did his comrades or the boat itself. Hisyachting cap was cocked at a saucy angle, revealing his fiery red hair,while underneath it was his broad, crimson face, sprinkled with freckles,and his vast grin revealed his big white teeth. It will be rememberedthat the remainder of his costume was his ordinary civilian attire,though Captain Alvin Landon had promised him a fine suit for thefollowing season. The time was too short to secure one for the presentoccasion.
Mike's good-natured grin awoke more than one responsive smile among thecrowd on the dock. The universal opinion was that the youth from theEmerald Isle was so homely of countenance that he couldn't be anyhomelier, but at the same time none could be more popular. He knew thatthe eyes of nearly every one were fixed upon him and he in turn scannedthe different faces, all of which were strange to him.
Alvin Landon slowed down as he approached and guided his boat among theothers with the skill of a professional chauffeur weaving in and out of aprocession of carriages. He gave his whole attention to this task,Chester watching the performance with the admiration he had felt manytimes before. But it was the people who interested Mike. Before the boatrounded to, Stockham Calvert, the detective, accompanied by LawyerWesterfield, of New York, walked down the inclined steps to the float.Westerfield was a gentleman of culture, an authority on many questionsand one of the greatest baseball fans in the country. Having secured aliberal money contribution from Calvert the night before at the Inn, heinvited him to stay and witness the great struggle between the Boothbaynine and the Squirrel Islanders. Westerfield was to act as umpire, hisimpartiality and quickness of perception having won the confidence of allparties; but of course Calvert had to decline under the pressure of aprevious engagement.
"It does a fellow good to look at that broth of a boy squatting on thestern," remarked Westerfield, while the _Deerfoot_ was still a shortdistance away.
"His name is Mike and he is a great favorite with every one. As yet Ihave not met him, but he has all the wit and humor of his people. Supposeyou test him."
Nothing loath, Westerfield, who was a bit of a wag himself, called sothat all heard him:
"You don't need to show a red signal light, my friend; you ought to waituntil night."
Cocking his head a little more to one side, and with a slight extent ofincrease in the width of his grin--admitting that to be possible--Mikecalled back:
"Thin why have ye the _graan_ light standing there on the wharf?"
Westerfield joined in the general laugh, but came back:
"That face of yours will keep off all danger by daylight."
"And it's yer own phiz that will sarve the same purpose at night."
The laughter was louder than ever, and the pleased Calvert said to thelawyer:
"Better let him alone; he will down you every time."
But Westerfield could not refuse to make another venture. Stepping backas if in alarm from the launch, which was now within arm's reach, hefeigned to be scared.
"Please don't bite me with those dreadful teeth."
Mike, who was now close to the wharf, leaped lightly upon it.
"Have no fear; the sight of yersilf has made a Joo of me."
Then as if afraid that the listeners would not catch the force of hiswords, he added:
"A Joo, as ye may know, doesn't ate pork."
Detective Calvert slapped the lawyer on the shoulder.
"Try him again."
"No; I have had enough." Then raising his hat and bowing in salutation,Westerfield offered his hand to the lad, who shook it warmly.
"You're too much for me, Mike. I'm proud to take off my hat to you."
"And it's me dooty to be equally respictful, as me dad said whin the bullpitched him over the fence and stood scraping one hoof and bowing fromt'other side."
While still in the boat, Alvin and Chester had returned the salutation ofCalvert. The Captain remained seated at the wheel, but the second matestepped out on the float and a general introduction followed. Thedetective and he went aboard and sat down on one of the seats. Mike keptthem company, and throwing in the clutch, Alvin guided the launch intothe spacious waters outside, all three waving a salute to Westerfield,who stood on the float and watched them for some minutes.
Detective Calvert had the good sense fully to admit Mike Murphy to hisconfidence, though he had hoped at first he would not be a member of theparty. Alvin Landon gave the man to understand that he was not hiring outhis boat, but was conferring a favor upon the officer, who had the choiceof rejecting or accepting it on the terms offered. While Calvert couldnot doubt the loyalty of the young Hibernian, he distrusted hisimpulsiveness. But as I have said, having decided upon his line ofconduct, he did not allow himself to show the slightest degree ofdistrust.
Mike on his part was tactful enough to act as listener while the man madeclear his plans. He did not ask a question or speak until addressed. Thelaunch moved so quietly that Alvin, with his hands upon the wheel andscanning the water in front, heard all that was said by the others, andwhen he thought it fitting took part in the conversation.
Instead of returning to Southport, the Deerfoot circled Cape Newagen,which you know is the southern extremity of that island, and entering thebroad bay, headed up the Sheepscot River, over the same course it hadfollowed before.
"Mike was not with you," said Detective Calvert, "when you traced theother launch into that little inlet at the lower end of Barter Island.That boat stayed there overnight and may still be there, but probably isnot."
"Suppose it isn't there?" said Chester.
"We must find out where she is. That is the chief reason for my presumingupon the kindness of the Captain to lend me the help of his launch. Inother words, it is my wish that the _Deerfoot_ shall serve as the Scoutof the Kennebec."
"A romantic title," remarked Alvin, over his shoulder, "though we are notcruising on the Kennebec, but up the Sheepscot."
"No doubt we shall have to visit the larger river. And then, you know,"added Calvert, with a smile, "the name I suggest sounds better than theother."
The launch required no special attention just then, and, with one hand onthe steering wheel, Captain Alvin looked around:
"Mike, what do you think of it?"
"Arrah, now, what's the difference what ye call the boat? At home, I wassometimes referred to as the Queen of the May, and again as the big toadt
hat St. Patrick forgot to drive out of Ireland, but all agraad that Iwas as swate under one title as the ither."
"Suppose the _Water Witch_ happens to be where Chester and I saw her atnight?" asked Alvin of their director.
"We shall have to decide our course of action by what develops."
Neither of the youths was fully satisfied with this reply. They could notbelieve that a professional detective would come this far upon sopeculiar an enterprise without having a pretty clear line laid out tofollow. It may have been as he said, however, and he was not questionedfurther.
The day could not have been finer. The threatening skies of a short timebefore had cleared and the sun was not obscured by a single cloud. Thoughwarm, the motion of the launch made the situation of all pleasant. Sincethere was no call for haste, Calvert suggested to the Captain that heshould not strain the engine, and Alvin was quite willing to spare it.The time might soon come when it would be necessary to call upon the boatto do her best, and he meant she should be ready to respond.
Past the Cat Ledges, Jo and Cedarbrush Islands moved the _Deerfoot_ likea swan skimming over the placid waters. Then came Hendrick Light, DogFish Head, Green Islands and Boston Island. Powderhorn was passed, andthen they glided by Isle of Springs, which brought them in sight ofSawyer. A little beyond was the inlet where they had seen the _WaterWitch_ reposing in the darkness of night.