Owen Clancy's Happy Trail Part 8

"Look!" whispered Ike huskily, leaning over the gla.s.s bottom and staring; "for the love o' Mike, look what's goin' on down there!"

CHAPTER VII.

AT THE BASE OF OLD SUGARLOAF.

Clancy and Ike had the privilege of seeing one of the strangest sights that any one ever saw through a gla.s.s-bottom boat. They saw a half-clad man grab another in a bathing suit, and immediately a submarine wrestling match was staged. Burton gripped Hill about the throat, and Hill's fingers slipped forthwith to Burton's windpipe. The scene grew more and more horrible as the moments pa.s.sed, and Clancy fell to throwing aside his garments preparatory to making a trip of his own to the marine gardens.

"Wait!" clamored Ike excitedly. "They've broke loose from each other!

They're comin' up. Don't go in!"

Clancy took another look through the gla.s.s. Burton's face was livid and ghastly, and it was plain that he was hard put to it for breath. With feeble, faltering strokes he was coming to the surface. Hill was following him as relentlessly as a shark.

The rowboat, from which Burton had dived, came alongside the flat-bottom craft. The fellow at the oars Clancy did not know. The motor wizard had half expected to see either Gerald Wynn or Bob Katz, but the oarsman was neither of these.

"What's happened?" he asked, a tense note of alarm in his voice.

Before Ike could answer, Burton's head bobbed to the surface, and a gurgling cry for help floated over the water.

"Wait a minute!" called Clancy, catching the side of the smaller boat before the man at the oars could get away from Ike's craft, "I guess I'll go with you."

Without much difficulty, Clancy transferred himself from one boat to the other.

"You needn't wait for us, Ike!" he called. "Have our clothes ready for us when we call for them, that's all."

"What're you trying to do?" demanded the oarsman.

"We've got two fellows to pick up," Clancy answered, "and I'm going to help. Are you a friend of Burton's?"

"I get half he makes for handlin' the boat for him."

"How long has he been doing this?"

"Yesterday and to-day."

"And your name is---"

"Mynie Boltwood."

"Well right, Mynie Boltwood! Steady it is, now, and we'll pick up the two in the water."

"Never mind me, Clancy," sang out Hill, who had come to the surface, and was swimming easily despite the weight of the wet clothing he had on.

"Burton is purty nigh tuckered. Take care o' him first."

Burton was a splendid swimmer, there was no doubt about that, but his ordeal in the water had told on him severely. He grabbed Clancy's outstretched hand desparingly, and was a.s.sisted to climb over the bulwarks. Once aboard, he fell in a sprawl on the boat's bottom, breathing heavily.

Hiram Hill got into the boat much more easily. Lifting his dripping body to a seat, he grinned, and shook the long, tow-colored hair back from his face.

"How was that for Hi?" he asked.

"It was a great piece of work!" Clancy answered admiringly. "You're certainly there with the goods when it comes to swimming. I thought, for a time, that both you and Burton would be drowned. We could have got him just as easily, Hiram, if you hadn't gone into the water."

"I wanted to make sure, that was all."

"Boltwood," called Clancy, "put us all ash.o.r.e on the rocks at the foot of Old Sugarloaf. We'll bask in the sun, for a while, and I'll talk a little with Burton, We're old friends, you know," and here Clancy smiled. "The last person in the world I was expecting to see through the gla.s.s bottom of that boat was Hank Burton. It was the surprise of my life, and no mistake."

There was something here which Mynie Boltwood could not understand. He was not ambitious in the acquirement of knowledge, however, and merely did as he was told--and let it go at that.

Burton sat up in the boat's bottom, and peered at Clancy.

"Feeling better, Hank?" the motor wizard inquired pleasantly.

"What're you and Hill doing here?" inquired Burton confusedly. "We reckoned you were in San Diego."

"Oh, you did!" returned Clancy. "You must know something about that letter Hiram received, inviting him to hang up his hat in Q Street and feel at home."

Burton, realizing that he had said something he hadn't ought to, bit his lip angrily.

"How'd you happen to come to Catalina?" he went on.

"The Happy Trail branched in this direction."

"Eh?"

"Well," Clancy laughed, "Hiram came to Catalina to find his father, and I'm helping in the search. We've got a few things to discuss, Hank, and I think we'll do the chinning ash.o.r.e."

By that time the boat was grounded among the rocks close to the foot of Old Sugarloaf.

"I haven't got a thing to discuss with you," snarled Burton, "and I'm not goin' ash.o.r.e."

"Sure you are!" declared Clancy. "You'd a heap rather go ash.o.r.e and talk matters over with Hiram and me than go to jail. Wouldn't you, now?"

Fire snapped in the motor wizard's eyes, and his voice, although it was like velvet, cut like steel. Burton saw there was no use trying to hang back.

"If Wynn hadn't made me work for a little money," growled Burton, "this wouldn't 'a' happened."

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

Boltwood had jumped to the rocks, and was holding the boat by the painter. Hill followed him out of the craft, and now Burton followed Hill. Clancy was last to leave the boat. He walked up toward the base of Sugarloaf Rock.

"Boltwood," he called, "you stay there and take care of the boat.

Burton, you and Hill come up here with me."

The excitement that had claimed the pa.s.sengers in Ike's boat had been missed by the other boats. The rest of the gla.s.s-bottom fleet had gone around Sugarloaf Rock, and Clancy was now able to look across the low rise of rocks, separating the headland from the sh.o.r.e, and see the other sight-seers.

"Hill and I came over here to find Hill's father," said Clancy, turning to Burton, "and we find you. That strikes me as being mighty strange, Hank. What are you and Gerald Wynn and Bob Katz doing here?"