The Call of the Beaver Patrol Part 44

Jamison saw large denominations, some as high as five hundred dollars, in the roll, and his evil eyes glittered greedily.

When Frank put up the roll, the fellow's eyes followed it until it pa.s.sed out of sight in the pocket. Other members of the crew had seen the money also, and Tommy was decidedly uncomfortable as he thought of the situation they were in.

Having received his pay, Jamison grew very friendly and confidential, and began pointing out the show places along the dim coast.

Presently Sam whispered cautiously in Tommy's ear:

"He is headed for the Barren islands, and not Cordova," he said.

CHAPTER VIII

ON THE GULF OF ALASKA

"Where are the Barren islands, and why should he want to take us there?"

asked Tommy, apprehensively.

"The Barren islands," replied Sam, "lie in the Gulf of Alaska, just south of the mouth of Copper river, west of Controller bay. They extend along the coast, only a short distance out, for twenty miles or more, and are just what the local name signifies, Barren islands."

"But why should he want to take us there?" insisted Tommy, slipping a hand toward his hip pocket to make sure that his automatic was ready for any emergency.

Sam did not answer the question, for Tommy's quick start of surprise, his low exclamation of dismay, checked the words which were on his lips.

Instead, he pushed closer to the lad and asked:

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"My revolver has been taken!" replied Tommy.

Frank, sitting close to his chum on the other side, now pushed his hand into his hip pocket and brought it forth empty.

"So is mine!" he said.

The boys looked at each other for a moment in the gathering darkness without speaking. The situation was a serious one.

"Who did it?" asked Tommy presently.

"No one has been near me except that man Jamison," replied Frank.

"He's the only one who's been within reaching distance of me," Tommy observed. "He must be a clever pickpocket!"

"I saw him eyeing that roll of money rather greedily," Sam cut in, speaking in a very low tone, for Jamison had new turned back from the prow and was looking in their direction.

"I noticed that, too," Frank answered. "I'm afraid we're going to get into trouble with that gink. Anyway," he continued, "he's started in right. He did well to get our guns before he started anything!"

"He didn't get my revolver," Sam said with a low chuckle. "It's a little bit of a baby thing, but it's a great deal better than none!"

"It will shoot, won't it?" asked Tommy.

"It will shoot, all right, but it's only a twenty-two," replied the boy.

"I've been trying for the last two days to get a square meal on it, but couldn't get even a ham sandwich. They don't look with favor on baby guns up in Alaska. They want the real thing!"

"Well, keep your gun where you can reach it at any moment!" advised Frank. "Even a twenty-two caliber may prove effective at short range."

"I presume," Sam went on, "that my coming on board in shabby clothes, and as an object of charity, convinced Jamison that I wasn't worth searching. I saw him looking me over, though!"

"Object of charity--not!" returned Frank. "We're mighty glad you're with us right now! You say he's taking us to the Barren islands. Well, we wouldn't know the Barren islands from any other place without you.

You've put us on our guard, at least, and that's worth more than the price of the ticket! We're glad of your company, too!"

"Now, see here, boys," Tommy whispered, "we mustn't let this man Jamison know that we have discovered that we have been robbed. The minute he knows that we are suspicious of him, the matter will come to a focus immediately. We've got to have time to think this matter over before anything is done."

This plan of action was agreed to, and the boys sat for some minutes in silence. After a time Jamison came to where they were seated, just at the doorway of the trunk cabin, and began asking questions about the need for a doctor. Tommy explained that a member of their party had been injured by a fall, and that they were going to Cordova in quest of a surgeon. He again asked Jamison to put on full speed.

"There's a man over here on the coast, this side of Katalla, who is said to be a fine surgeon," Jamison explained, after Tommy had finished his statement. "He's a sort of a recluse, people say, and lives alone in a shabby hut, high up above the tide. You might stop and consult him. That would be better, it seems to me, than going away up to Cordova. Still,"

he went on with a grim smile, "I've been paid to take you to Cordova and back, and, if you insist, I mean to live up to my bargain!"

Sam gave Frank a quick poke in the ribs and whispered in his ear:

"Yes, he does!"

"Let him play out his string," whispered Frank in return.

"This surgeon," Jamison went on, "is a queer old fellow. Sometimes he'll take a case, and sometimes he won't. If he feels in an ugly mood, he's likely to kick us out of his cabin."

Tommy listened with apparent interest to what the treacherous Jamison was saying, but it is needless to remark that he did not accept it as truth. It was his belief that the fellow was manufacturing a pretext for getting himself and his friends quietly on sh.o.r.e as soon as one of the Barren islands was reached.

There were three men on board the motor boat besides Jamison. They were evil-looking fellows, and spent most of their time on the forward deck, where the steering wheel and the motors were located.

The men frequently drank out of a black bottle, and were fast becoming intoxicated. Instead of attempting to restrain the fellows, Jamison seemed to encourage them in their debauch.

"He's getting them in trim to start something," Sam whispered, as the three men broke into a rough drinking song.

"Yes," agreed Tommy, "I imagine that he wants whatever takes place on board the boat tonight to be regarded as the acts of men made irresponsible by whisky. You'd better keep your gun handy, Sam!"

"I've got my hand on it every minute!" replied the boy. "And if anything is started here, Jamison will be the first one to know that I've got it!

He's the man that needs the lesson!"

It was very dark now, and the sea was rough. The motor boat plunged about like a leaf, tossing from wave to wave, and dropping into one trough after another. It was plain that the members of the crew were becoming too drunk to handle the boat.

Jamison finally approached the cabin doorway and sat down on one of the stationary seats. Notwithstanding the fact that the boat was taking water at almost every jump, the fellow's face bore a satisfied look.

"What are those fellows trying to do with the boat?" asked Tommy.

"Oh, they're all right!" answered Jamison.

"Looks to me like they were trying to drop us to the bottom," Frank said. "There won't be any boat left directly!"