A Young Inventor's Pluck Part 33

"Then I'm with you," Mont returned, and he followed.

At the water's edge both gave a cry of disappointment.

The boat was gone!

"Of course, Corrigan took it," said the young machinist. "He knew this was the place to look for Pooler's boat."

Mont shook his head dubiously.

"I guess you're right. What's to be done now?" he asked, slowly.

Jack cudgeled his brain for an instant.

"I'll look around. There must be other boats. Of course we haven't any right to take them, but we can't stand on ceremony in a case like this."

He ran down the beach and soon came to a tiny craft tied to a fallen tree.

"Just the thing," he exclaimed, untying the boat and jumping in. "Tell you what to do, Mont. I'll row out and keep them in sight, while you run over to Farmer Farrell's for a.s.sistance. Get him to come, and other help, too, if you can, and row directly for the landing. If you don't find me there, fire a pistol shot, and I'll come as soon as I can."

This hurried arrangement was agreed upon, and Mont made for the lane that led to the farmer's homestead.

Jack s.h.i.+pped the oars, and tired as he was, pulled manfully out into the stream. The other boat was no longer in view, but he had carefully noted the direction it had taken, and now headed exactly the same way.

He pulled for five minutes or more, and then looked ahead.

He was chagrined to find that the other craft was still out of sight.

Resuming his seat, he redoubled his efforts, sending the spray flying in all directions.

Presently the island loomed up before him, and straining his eyes, he sought for some signs of his sister and her abductor.

But though he looked in all directions, and even rowed a considerable distance up and down the irregular sh.o.r.e, not a thing was revealed.

"Well, I'm stumped!" was his rather slangy but forcible exclamation.

"I'm positive they're not far off, and how I can be slipped in this fas.h.i.+on gets me! Wonder if he has gone up to the cottage?"

Jack ran the boat up the beach and landed. It was now very dark, and he had no little difficulty in finding the right direction.

Finally he struck the path, and three minutes' walk brought him to the clearing. A bright light was burning in the cottage living-room, and cautiously approaching one of the side windows, he peeped in.

At the table, his head nodding sleepily, sat Mosey, with a gla.s.s and bottle close at hand.

"He must be alone," thought the young machinist. "Wonder where Pooler is?"

In his disappointment, he was about to return to the sh.o.r.e, when the door leading to the garret stairway opened, and Corrigan appeared.

He did not utter a word, but closing the door behind him, he locked it carefully.

Jack was pleased to see him. He instantly surmised that Deb had been brought to the place, and was at the present instant probably locked up in the room above.

He was bound to rescue her at all hazards, and looked around for some available weapon with which to defend himself if the occasion required.

A small axe lay near the doorstep, and he picked it up. It was ah ugly looking thing, and he felt better when he had it where it could be brought into instant use. Both of the men were desperate characters--one of them had tried to take his life--and he was resolved to run no more risks.

"Oi suppose we can't go back to Corney any more," remarked Mosey, as he took the bottle and helped himself freely. "Ye'll be up fer stealin'

and----"

"You'll be up for something worse," finished Corrigan, with a forced laugh. "You're right, Andy. The place is getting too hot to hold us.

We'll have to clear out soon, I'm afraid. Where is Max?"

"Gone to the cave."

"What for?"

"Oi don't know, leastwise he thinks Oi don't."

"Which means that you do," remarked Corrigan, suggestively.

Mosey unclosed one eye with great deliberation.

"Oi do that," he replied slowly.

"Do you think it's money, Andy?" asked the other, as he seated himself on the edge of the table.

"It's not anything else, Dennis, me b'y," was the reply.

"How much do you expect to get from him?"

"Not one cint. Oh, but he's a close-fisted miser. Oi know him!" and the Irishman rubbed his chin savagely. "He owes me many a dollar, so he does!"

"Suppose we take what we ought to have by force," whispered Corrigan.

He was slightly pale and his lips twitched nervously.

"Oi'm wid ye," replied Mosey, rising to his feet. "Oi was thinkin' of the same thing myself. Max is no good any more. Come on!"

With an uncertain step the Irishman moved toward the door. In an instant Jack stepped behind the opposite side of the building.

Corrigan followed his brother-in-law out, and both walked toward the woods on the right.

The young machinist watched them out of sight and then ran into the cottage.

Unlocking the stairway door, he mounted the steps hastily.

"Deb! Deb!"

"Oh, Jack! is that you?" came a voice from the darkness.

"Yes. Where are you?"