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Fantasy Football Challenge presents
The Adventure Club Afloat

28 of 54

around back of them?" asked Cas Temple. "What are we going to do with them if we catch them?" Tom Corwin wanted to know. "Take them back and hand them over to the police?" "I don't believe they'll let us catch them," answered Phil. "Either they'll take to that small boat they've got astern there or they'll try to make a dash past us." [Illustration: "It is!" he cried. "We've got her, fellows!"] "Much good that would do them!" Harry shrugged his shoulders. "The _Adventurer_ can sail all around our boat." "We're not getting anywhere," observed Steve, who had been all the while watching the other craft attentively. "And they've seen us at last, for they're looking over the top of the cabin." "Well, let's do something," said Perry, who was back with the two revolvers and as many boxes of cartridges. "Can they go the other way or do they have to pass us to get out of this place, Steve?" "They can go the other way for about five miles according to the chart, but they can't get out. There's a bridge there. And, anyway, I guess it's only navigable for small boats at high tide. Perry, for the love of lemons, drop those things and let them alone." "They aren't loaded," said Perry, injuredly. "That's the kind that always blow your head off. Well, what's the decision, fellows?" Everyone talked at once for a minute, and, at last, Phil said: "Why not do the natural thing and ask for our boat? Why let them think that we expect trouble? Perhaps when they see that the game's up they'll give in sensibly." "That's the idea," agreed Harry and most of the rest. "Let's breeze right up to them and talk big." "We'll never get the _Follow Me_ by lying here, anyway," said Steve, turning to the wheel. "Get your anchor up, Han. Give him a hand, someone. Wink, open a box of those cartridges and load the revolvers, will you? But keep them out of Perry's way! All right now. Settle down, fellows, and we'll try a bluff." The _Adventurer_ went on and the distance between the two boats lessened rapidly. They could see two men watching them over the top of the cabin, but there was no sign of alarm visible aboard the _Follow Me_. When the _Adventurer_ was almost opposite the black cruiser Steve threw out the clutch, turned the wheel and let her run shoreward. "We're getting out of the channel," he said to Harry. "Watch for sand-bars." He slipped the clutch in again and again disengaged it. The two boats were some twenty yards apart now and the men on the _Follow Me_ were observing the newcomers unblinkingly from the cockpit. Steve leaned over the rail and sent a hail across. "_Follow Me_, ahoy!" he called. "We'll trouble you for that boat, please." For a moment there was no answer. Then one of the two men in sight moved forward and drawled: "Speaking to us, are you? What was it you said?" "I said we'd trouble you for that boat," repeated Steve. "It happens to belong to us, you see." "This boat?" "That identical boat." "Belongs to you!" "You've got it." "That's a good joke, friend. We've owned this boat three years. Where do you come in?" "She's the _Follow Me_, even if you have painted her name out, and you took her from her anchorage in Plymouth Harbour last night. What's the use of throwing a fool bluff like that?" The man laughed hoarsely and his companion joined him. "Run away, kids!" he said finally. "You're crazy with the heat. This boat's the _Esmeralda_, of Providence, and she belongs to me and this feller. What do you mean, took her? Callin' me a thief, are you?" "I'm not taking the trouble to. If you know what's good for you you'll dig out of there and do it quick." "Is that so?" drawled the man. "Well, ain't that nice? An' supposin' it don't suit me to hand over my boat to you? Then what you goin' to do?" "Take her," answered Steve quietly. "There are twelve of us here and we've followed you all the way from Plymouth, and we aren't likely to let you bluff us off now. Come on, now, what do you say?" "Come on and take her, kids!" was the answer. "We're scared to death!" The men thought that extremely funny, and laughed a lot over it. Just then, Steve, leaning outboard over the railing, felt someone tug at his arm. "Look at the middle port, Steve," whispered Phil. Steve looked. The nearer side of the _Follow Me_ was in shadow, but a quivering beam of sunlight, reflected from the surface of the water, glinted on the muzzle of a revolver held just inside the open port. "Every fellow under cover," said Steve quietly. "That means you, too, Joe. Duck! They've got a gun trained on us. Who's the best shot here?" "Wink," answered Joe. "Give him one of the revolvers. Are you there, Wink?" "Yes," answered the other from the forward companion way. "Get a bead on that middle port. You'll see a gun sticking through there. Don't shoot unless they shoot first. Better go into the other cabin. There's no harm in letting them see you, but don't keep your head exposed. Someone hand me that other revolver." On the other boat Steve's silence was accepted as a confession of indecision and a jeering laugh came across the water. The _Adventurer_ was drifting toward the shore now, and Steve turned and slipped the clutch into reverse and churned back a few yards. Then he faced the men again. "You can't get away with it, you know," he said untroubledly. "We can stay here as long as you can. If you run we'll follow you, and at the first port we'll hand you over to the authorities. You've only got thirty gallons of gas and that won't take you far. If you have any sense you'll pile into your tender and light out while you've got a good chance." It was evident that those on the stolen boat had glimpsed Wink's revolver, for one of the men leaned toward his companion and spoke in low tones and their eyes sought the port. After a moment the spokesman replied placatingly. "Maybe you're right, Sport. Guess you've got us this time. But this ain't any place to go ashore. Tell you what we'll do. We'll run her back to Gloucester and hand her over to you there. That's fair, ain't it?" "It doesn't listen well," answered Steve. "You land on the other side there and you'll only have to walk a few miles to a train." "Yeah, walk about six miles across sand dunes in a sun hot enough to blister you! Nothin' doin', Sport. Take it or leave it."

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