The Deserted Yacht Part 3

Not until then did Madge try to learn what had happened.

"It's too dreadful to tell," Enid murmured brokenly. "Father's been kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped!"

Enid nodded forlornly.

"It happened last night. I've been locked up in that closet ever since. I thought I'd die before someone came!"

"What became of your father?"

"Oh, Madge, if only I knew! Those horrible men took him away! I'm afraid they've murdered him! I'm afraid-"

"Now, now," Madge comforted, slipping her arm about Enid, "don't take on so. It won't help matters to become hysterical. Try to tell me as calmly as you can just what took place."

Enid made an effort to steady herself. She gripped her friend's hand tightly as she began her story.

"Father and I were alone last night here. We had given the three sailors and our cook forty-eight hours sh.o.r.e leave, for we had decided not to sail until tomorrow morning. Father had gone to his cabin to read. I idled about the deck for an hour or so. It was after eleven when I finally went to bed." She paused and seemed to lose herself in unpleasant thoughts.

"Go on," Madge urged gently.

"It was sometime later-I'm not just sure what time it was, when I was awakened. I heard a boat grate against the side of the yacht and then someone called out. Father answered but I couldn't make out what he said.

However, I gathered that some men wanted to speak to him in the cabin."

"You don't know who they were?"

"No, they must have given their names, but I couldn't hear well enough through the porthole. At any rate, they seemed to have convinced Father that they were all right, for after some discussion, he permitted them to come aboard.

"I don't know why I didn't go back to sleep. I had a queer feeling that I can't explain. I sensed that something was wrong. After a minute or so I got up and opened the door. I couldn't hear a sound in Father's cabin. I decided to dress."

"You turned on the light?" Madge inquired.

"No, I didn't, and I made as little noise as possible, although up until then I really had no reason to be afraid. It was just a feeling-"

"I understand. Then what happened?"

"I had just finished dressing when I heard a commotion in Father's cabin.

It sounded as though they were throwing the furniture around. I ran there as fast as I could. As I threw open the door I saw that two men were trying to overpower Father. He was fighting desperately, holding them at bay with a chair. I screamed and just then the light was extinguished."

"That was the last you recall?"

"Very nearly. I do remember that Father shouted for me to get away. But before I could act, something struck me on the back of the head." Enid raised her hand and tenderly felt the b.u.mp. "I didn't know anything more for several hours. When I came to, I found myself in that closet, bound and gagged. I've been there ever since."

"It was horrible of them to leave you like that," Madge declared angrily.

"Why, you might have suffocated. Or starved to death!"

"I did think I'd die before help came," Enid confessed with a wry smile.

"I really don't believe those men would have cared. They're heartless!

That's why I'm so worried about Father. They've taken him away somewhere."

"We must get the police after them instantly. Is there any way we can reach sh.o.r.e?"

"Why, yes, we have a motor boat. If you'll help me now I think I can walk."

"Don't you want something to eat first? You're not very strong."

Enid shook her head.

"No, I'll not feel like eating until I know the police are on the trail of those men."

She insisted that they start at once, and with Madge supporting her, managed to reach the deck. Peering down over the railing she uttered a startled cry.

"What's the matter?" Madge asked.

"The motor boat! It's gone! Someone has cut it from its moorings!"

CHAPTER V A Puzzling Case

Both girls could plainly see where the motor boat had been tied. Only a stub end of rope remained.

"Those kidnappers must have cut it loose last night when they carried Father off!" Enid cried. "Now how are we to get ash.o.r.e?"

"We might swim," Madge suggested seriously, measuring with her eye the distance to the wharf. "I think I could make it."

"Well, I couldn't, and anyway, I have a better idea."

Enid brought out a distress flag which had been stored away and hung it where it would be seen by a pa.s.sing s.h.i.+p. While they awaited rescue, Madge prepared food from the generous a.s.sortment of tin goods she found in the kitchen. Enid was induced to eat. The food seemed to revive her and she declared it was the most delicious she had ever tasted. The color gradually flooded back into her cheeks.

Madge asked a great many questions and in turn related her experience with the boatman. She was a trifle disappointed when the matter was pa.s.sed off lightly.

"So many longsh.o.r.e-men and waterfront derelicts are like that," Enid told her. "You can't trust some of them out of your sight. It's a wonder he didn't run off with your suitcase."

The girls maintained a faithful watch but no s.h.i.+ps pa.s.sed near the yacht.

They were about to despair when Madge noticed a black and red amphibian taxiing toward sh.o.r.e.

"Oh, I hope the pilot sees our signal!" she exclaimed. "He's not looking this way."

Frantically, they waved their hands to attract his attention. They feared they had failed, for the plane maintained its course. Then suddenly it swerved and the pilot returned their greeting.

"Why, it's Rex Stewart!" Enid cried, observing the amphibian's wing markings. "And he's coming this way."

Madge did not inquire as to the ident.i.ty of the young man mentioned, but from the poppy color which swiftly mounted Enid's cheeks, she surmised that he was a very special friend.

Rex Stewart had known and admired Enid for many years. He was the son of a prominent, ultra-conservative Cheltham Bay lawyer but had inherited none of his father's staid viewpoints. It was the private opinion of the Stewart family that he was too reckless, and far too interested in aviation for his own good. Rex liked fast horses and speedy motorboats; he owned his own amphibian and was an excellent pilot. He made friends easily and kept them. And, rather to the surprise of everyone, he stood high in the soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s of Ardmore College.