The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 43
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"I don't think I can do the job as soon as that, but I'll do the best I can! Why are you in such a hurry?"
"There's a boy sick at the camp!" was the short reply.
"How much are you going to charge for the use of your boat?" asked Frank. "We're willing to pay for fast service."
"I think a couple of hundred dollars will be about right," was the reply. "It's a little bit risky going out in the night."
Tommy was about to protest against the exorbitant charge, but Frank motioned him to remain silent.
"The price is satisfactory," he said. "When can you start?"
"In an hour," was the answer.
After promising to meet the boys at the floating dock in an hour's time, the owner of the motor boat took his departure, and the two lads dropped into a smoky and smelly restaurant for supper.
The place was foul with evil language as well as evil smells, and the boys did not remain long. Instead of sitting down at the table and ordering their meal, they bought such provisions as they could get and took their way to the water front. When they sat down to eat their rather unpalatable repast, they saw that a boy of about their own size and age was loitering not far away.
"I'll gamble you a five cent piece," Tommy whispered to Frank, "that that is a Boy Scout! What do you say?"
"You're on!" exclaimed Frank.
Tommy struck three times on the planking of the dock with his open hand.
Instantly there came back to his ears the low snarling voice of a bulldog. Then footsteps advanced down the dock, and the boy soon stood close to the others.
"You're a Beaver?" he asked.
"And you're a Bulldog!" said Tommy.
The boys presented their hands, palm out, in the full salute of the Boy Scouts and then stood examining each other's faces.
"Where's the Bulldog Patrol located?" asked Tommy.
"Portland, Oregon," was the reply.
"Do you live here now?" asked Frank, who had already been introduced as a member of the Fox Patrol.
"I'm obliged to live here," was the answer, "because I can't get out of town. I wish I could get away!"
"You may go with us," offered Tommy.
"Where?" was the question.
"To Cordova tonight, and to a camp out on a glacier tomorrow."
"Tickled to death!" exclaimed the boy.
"You're welcome!" declared Tommy;
"Who're you going with?" was the next question.
"He didn't give us his name, but he said he owned a fast motor boat, and he said he'd get us there and back before noon tomorrow!"
"Jamison is the only man here who has a motor boat, but you want to look out for him. He's as crooked as a corkscrew!"
"That's the impression I received when he fixed his price."
"Well," the stranger said in a moment, "I've got a little baggage up the street and I'll go and get it."
He was gone perhaps half an hour, and when he returned the boys saw an anxious expression on his face.
"Are you sure that man Jamison is going out with you tonight?" he asked.
"He said he would," was the reply.
"He's up there loading in whiskey," the boy, who had given his name as Samuel White, continued, "and has surrounded himself with about as tough a bunch of crooks as there is in all Alaska."
"Perhaps he wants them to help run the boat," suggested Tommy.
"No, there's something crooked on foot!" declared Sam. "The fellows are whispering together in a bar-room up the street, and pounding the tables, and letting cut great shouts of laughter as if they had a good joke on some one."
"Do you know any of the men with Jamison?" asked Frank.
"One of them," the boy replied, "is a crooked mine agent, and one is a fellow who hangs around town without revealing any business whatever, but seems to have plenty of money."
While the boys talked, Jamison, accompanied by two men who seemed to be somewhat under the influence of liquor, came down to the dock.
After nodding familiarly to the lads, he gave a signal with a lantern which he carried in his hand, and in a short time a very capable looking motor boat came puffing out of the darkness.
"There you are, boys!" he said. "Jump in, and I'll have you up to Cordova in no time. I've got a good crew on board, and I may be able to get you back long before noon."
The boys did not exactly like the looks of the "good" crew, but they said nothing as they took their seats in the little trunk cabin and waited for the boat to get under motion.
When at last the motors began whirling and the rocking motion told the lads that they were out among the high waves, Jamison came in and seated himself by Tommy's side.
"Little bit b.u.mpy tonight," he said, "but you'll soon get used to that.
If you have the money ready, I'll collect fares now."
Frank took two hundred dollars in bank notes from a pocket and pa.s.sed it over to the owner of the boat.
"A hundred apiece," Jamison said. "I was to have a hundred for each pa.s.senger. You owe me a hundred more."
"Don't pay any hundred for me," Sam White exclaimed, springing to his feet. "I'll jump overboard and swim back."
Frank laid a hand on the boy's arm and pushed him back into a seat.
"It's all right," he said. "I did agree to pay a hundred dollars a pa.s.senger. You're quite welcome to the ride at my expense."
As Frank spoke he took a roll of bank notes from another pocket and stripped off one of the denomination of one hundred dollars.
The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 43
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The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 43 summary
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