The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters by Edward Sylvester Ellis (best fiction novels of all time .txt) 📕

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"Not for the present, but that may be the best course. Hold your own for awhile and then gradually fall back."

When the race opened, less than an eighth of a mile separated the contestants. The abrupt burst lessened this slightly and then it appeared to be stationary as the two glided down the river.

Such were the relative positions when the _Water Witch_ shot past Ram Island, holding the middle of the stream, and a few minutes later came abreast of Isle of Springs.

"Those two young fellows have a man with them," remarked Calvert. "He tried to keep out of sight when we first met, but now he doesn't seem to care. You can see him plainly without the help of the glasses."

Such was the fact, and Chester said:

"They must know that we also have a friend with us."

"I don't see that it matters either way. I think you are gaining."

"But not half fast enough," added Mike, who was standing and impatient to beat their opponent. "We must come up wid the spalpeens before they git to Boothbay."

"They are not heading for Boothbay," observed Calvert, whose keen eyes had detected the change in the line of flight. His companions saw he was right. The front boat had made so abrupt a change of course that it was almost at right angles to that of the pursuer. The side of the launch was exposed, showing the two youths, one of whom held the wheel, while the man with a mustache sat directly beside the other. It might be said of the two craft and their crews that they were twins, so marked was their resemblance.

Naturally Alvin shifted his line of pursuit. You may recall that, opposite the Isle of Springs, Goose Rock Passage connects Sheepscot River with Knubble Bay, which leads into Montsweag Bay, reaching northward on the western side of the long island of Westport. In their first trip northward our young friends had gone to the eastward of Westport, as they had been doing during this race. Montsweag Bay takes the name of Back River at the northern end of the island and that and the Sheepscot unite above before reaching Wiscasset.

The _Water Witch_ dived into Goose Neck Passage past Newdick Point, where it turned northward into Knubble Bay. This is the path taken by the steamers from Bath and other places on the Kennebec when going to Boothbay Harbor, Squirrel Island and other points. To the westward of these bodies of water sweeps the noble Kennebec to the sea.

Just ahead was discerned a swiftly approaching mass of tumbling water, above which the deck, pilot house and puffing smokestack of a little steamer showed. This was the "pony of the Kennebec"--the _Gardiner_, plowing ahead in such desperate haste that one might well believe the fate of a score of persons depended upon its not losing a half minute. Alvin took good care to give her plenty of room and saluted with several whistle toots. There was no reply. The captain merely glanced at the two craft and sped onward like an arrow from the bow of the hunter.

The _Deerfoot_ rocked and plunged in the swell made by the steamer, which, spreading out like a fan from its bow, ran tumbling and foaming along the rocky shores, keeping pace with the headlong charge of the boat, and trying to engulf everything in its path. One small catboat that was tied to a rickety, home-made landing, after a couple of dives capsized, as if it were a giant flapjack under which a housewife had slid her turning iron.

"They're gaining!" exclaimed Chester, who was closely watching the progress of the racers. "Do you mean to let them get away, Alvin?"

"Mr. Calvert will answer that question."

"I do so by advising that you neither gain nor lose for the present."

The Captain gave the launch a little more power, and it became clear to all that the pursuer was picking up the ground, or rather water, that she had lost. Then for several minutes no difference in speed was perceptible. A space of a furlong separated the two when they shot past the point of land bearing the odd name of Thomas Great Toe, which is on the western side of the lower part of Westport, some two miles above Goose Neck Passage. Here the water is a mile in width, and is filled with islands of varying sizes, until the large bay to the northward is reached.

The _Water Witch_ persisted in hugging the eastern shore, while her pursuer kept well out, as if to make sure of having plenty of room in which to pass her, when the chance came. But all the same the chance did not come. It was soon seen that the fugitive was drawing away from her pursuer. Mike Murphy fumed, but held his peace.

"It's mesilf that hasn't any inflooence here," he reflected, "as I obsarved to mysilf whin dad and mither agreed that a thundering big licking was due me."

"Can you overhaul her?" asked Detective Calvert.

"Easiest thing in the world; I can shoot past her as if she were lying still."

"Well, don't do it."

Mike could remain silent no longer.

"That's a dooce of a way to run a race! Whin ye find ye can bate the ither out of sight ye fall back and let her doot. That's the style I used to run races wid the ither boys at school, but the raison was I couldn't help it. If ye'll allow me to utter a few words of wisdom I'll do the same."

Alvin nodded his head.

"It is that ye signal to that pirut ahead to wait and give us a tow, being that's the only way we can howld our own wid 'em."

Now while it was trying to Alvin and Chester to engage in a race of the nature described and voluntarily allow the contestant to beat them, when they knew they had the power of winning, yet they believed it was the true policy, since Detective Calvert had said so. They understood the disgust of Mike and could not forbear having a little fun at his expense.

"You see," said Chester gravely, "those two young men who gave you and Alvin such a warm time the other night are on the other boat, and if we should come to close quarters with them they would be pretty sure to even up matters with you."

Mike glared at the speaker, as if doubting the evidence of his ears.

"Phwat is that ye're saying?" he demanded. "Isn't that the dearest object of yer heart? I shall niver die contint till I squar' matters wid 'em, and ye knows the same."

"You forget," added Calvert, with the same seriousness, "that they have a full-grown man to help them out."

"And haven't we a full-grown man wid us, as me dad said whin he inthrodooced me to his friends at Donnybrook, I being 'liven years old? Begorra, I'm thinking we haven't any such person on boord."

It was a pretty sharp retort, but the officer could not repress his amusement at the angry words. Alvin looked over his shoulder and winked at Calvert and Chester, making sure that Mike did not observe the signal. In his impatience, he had turned his back upon them and was looking gloomily over the stern at the foaming wake.

"I wonder if there isn't some tub along the shore that'll put out and run us down. I hope, Captain, that whin we git back home ye'll kaap this a secret from dad."

"And why?"

"He'll sure give me the greatest walloping of me life."

"For what reason?"

"For consoorting wid a party that run away from the finest chance in the wurrld for a shindy. It's a sin that can be wiped out in no ither way."

"I'll explain to him," said Calvert, "that you couldn't help yourself."

"And it's mighty little difference that will make, as Terry McCarthy said when he had the ch'ice of foighting two Tipperary byes or three Corkonians."

"Wouldn't your father prefer to have us bring you home safe and unhurt rather than to have your beauty battered out of you?" inquired the detective, with a solemn visage.

Mike, who had risen to his feet and was still staring over the stern, slowly turned and faced the questioner. Then, with an expression of contempt, he said:

"Ye haven't the honor of an acquaintance wid me dad."


CHAPTER V

THE LOSER OF THE RACE

A long, low bridge connects the western projection of Westport with Woolwich on the opposite bank, beyond which spreads Montsweag Bay, narrowing to Back River, which, as has been explained, joins the Sheepscot.

The draw had just been swung open when our friends came in sight of the bridge, and saw the _Water Witch_ passing through. The bridge tender immediately began turning his lever with which he closed the draw. Alvin whistled to signify that he wished to follow the other, but seemingly the man did not hear him. His back steadily rose and fell, as he worked the handle of his contrivance, and the movable section of the structure slowly swung back in response.

"Isn't that lucky now!" was the sarcastic exclamation of Mike.

"Why?" asked Chester.

"He wants to hilp ye fall back further behind the ither boat."

"There may be something in that," the Captain replied.

None the less, Alvin continued his tooting, without abating his speed. The tender, however, did not mean to tantalize them, and all quickly saw the cause of his action. A heavily loaded wagon had come upon the bridge from the Woolwich side, and waited while the draw was held open. The driver must have had a "pull" with the attendant, who immediately closed the draw so he could cross before the second boat passed through.

At this juncture fate showed how perverse she can be when in the mood. Directly over the draw, something connected with the wagon or the harness of the team got askew and the driver paused to set it right. Possibly it was pretence on his part, for many men will do such things, but, all the same, he took ten minutes before he climbed back on his seat and started his horses forward again. Alvin reversed the screw, so that the launch became motionless when a few yards from the bridge.

I am afraid the driver purposely delayed the _Deerfoot_, for when Mike shouted an angry reproach, he looked around, put his thumb to his nose, twiddled his fingers, and then moved slowly over the rattling planks toward Westport.

"I suggist that ye turn about, Captain, and scoot for home," was the ironical advice of the Irish youth.

"For what reason?"

"I'm afeard that man is real mad and he might take it into his head to git down off his wagon and saize aich of us by the nape of the neck as the boat goes through, and slam us down so hard he'd jar us."

"Better wait, Captain, till he's a little farther off," advised Calvert; "there may be something in what Michael says."

As for Mike, feeling he could not do justice to the subject, he held his peace for the moment.

Gliding through the draw and entering Montsweag Bay, the occupants of the _Deerfoot_ were surprised to see nothing of the other launch. She was as invisible as if she had been scuttled and sunk in fifty feet of water.

The right shore