The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless Part 27

Then they turned to give the same greeting to Joe Dawson, who gasped:

"Gracious, but it _does_ seem good to meet fellows of the Club and from the old home town at that!"

Mr. Seaton, though following in more leisurely fas.h.i.+on, now pa.s.sed them, going on up to the deck. There he met Captain Rawley.

"Don't mind what my young men do, captain," begged the charter-man, "and don't mind if they delay you for a few minutes. I'll make good the damage."

"Help yourself to a little of my time, then, sir," grimaced the freighter's captain. "Anything that I can spare from the proper time of the run, you understand."

"How on earth do you fellows happen to be on this s.h.i.+p, of all places in the world?" demanded Tom Halstead.

"Easy enough to explain," laughed d.i.c.k Davis. "Port authorities at Rio were good enough to order six motor boats for harbor purposes. My dad got the chance of building the boats at his yard at Bath. The Rio motor boats are on board, down in the hold, and Ab and I are sent along to deliver the motor boats, put them in running order at Rio, and, if necessary, teach the natives how to run such craft."

"Did you fellows know we were signaling you by wireless?" Joe was asking Ab Perkins. "Did you know that you were going to see us?"

"Didn't know a blessed thing about it," admitted Ab Perkins, almost sheepishly. "d.i.c.k and I were asleep in our stateroom. We were getting ready to come out on deck when we felt the old tub slackening speed.

Then we came out to see what was happening. We looked over the rail, and--_wow_!"

Ab again seized Joe Dawson's hand, giving it another mighty shake.

Then the irrepressible Ab reached out for Tom's hand, but d.i.c.k Davis was drawing Halstead up on deck.

Readers of the first volume of this series will remember both Ab and d.i.c.k well. They, too, were boys born near the Kennebec River, and took part in the stirring adventures narrated in THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OF THE KENNEBEC, just before Tom and Joe left for the next scenes of their activities, as related in THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AT NANTUCKET and THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OFF LONG ISLAND. Ab Perkins and d.i.c.k Davis were two of the most valued of the early members of the Club.

All in a twinkling, Tom Halstead was seized by an idea. He looked about for Powell Seaton, saw that gentleman talking with Captain Rawley, and caught the charter-man's eye.

"See here, Mr. Seaton," whispered Halstead, as soon as he had gotten his employer aside, "there's no great need for me to go to Rio."

"No?"

"Of course not. Give the papers to d.i.c.k Davis, with exact instructions as to who is to receive them at Rio Janeiro, and those papers will get into exactly the hands for which you intend them."

"You feel certain of that, Halstead?" demanded Powell Seaton, his voice tremulous with anxiety.

"Absolutely sure, sir. d.i.c.k Davis can be trusted as long the world holds together. There isn't the faintest yellow streak in him, either.

Square, straight, keen, brave--that's d.i.c.k Davis. And Ab Perkins would go through the jaws of anything with Davis! Why, Mr. Seaton, they're Motor Boat Club boys! You can trust them to the same degree as you're willing to trust me. Moreover, they're going down to Rio on a mission to the Government. They've got a better chance to get ash.o.r.e, unmolested and unwatched, than any other stranger would have."

"Get your friends together, then, somewhere where we can have a private corner," begged Powell Seaton. "We'll talk this matter over--we've got to talk like lightning, at that."

While Mr. Seaton sought Captain Rawley, Tom shot back along the deck to where Joe, Hank and the two Rio-bound members of the Motor Boat Club stood talking.

"Hank," said Tom, in a low voice, "Hepton is all alone down on the 'Restless,' except for our prisoner aft. Hepton may be all right, and I think he is--but one of our own crowd ought to be on board our boat."

"I'll be the one, then," half-sighed Hank b.u.t.ts, turning to descend the side gangway.

Captain Rawley promptly agreed to turn his own cabin over to the friends who wanted a private chat.

"But only for five minutes, mind you," he insisted. "Then I must be on my way."

Behind the closed door of the captain's room Powell Seaton and Tom Halstead swiftly explained what was wanted.

"Will we do it?" said d.i.c.k Davis, repeating the question that had been asked him. "Why, of course we will. There's only one answer possible.

Tom Halstead is fleet captain of the Motor Boat Club, and a request from Captain Tom is the same thing as an order."

"You will go straight to the American consulate at Rio Janeiro, then,"

directed Mr. Seaton. "From the consulate you will send a messenger to bring to you s.h.i.+pley D. Jarvis, whose address is the American Club.

The American consul will be able to a.s.sure you that it is s.h.i.+pley D.

Jarvis who comes to you. You will turn over these papers to Mr. Jarvis in the presence of the American consul. A letter from me is in the envelope with the papers. That is all, except----"

After a brief pause Mr. Seaton went on to caution d.i.c.k Davis and Ab Perkins as to the dangers against which they must guard on the way.

This Tom Halstead supplemented with an exact description of Anson Dalton and of Captain Dave Lemly, of the now seized "Black Betty."

"Either, or both, of the rascals may board this s.h.i.+p a little further along," cautioned Mr. Seaton. "Night and day you must be on your guard against them."

Then Tom Halstead quickly outlined to Davis a system of apparently common-place wireless messages by means of which Davis might be able to keep Mr. Seaton informed of the state of affairs, for some days to come, on board the "Glide."

Some further last instructions were added. Powell Seaton wound up by forcing a few banknotes into the hands of both these unexpected messengers.

"Wait until we've succeeded," proposed d.i.c.k Davis.

"This is for expense money, for sending wireless messages, and other things," replied Mr. Seaton. "Your real reward will come later on."

"When we've succeeded," nodded Davis.

So much time had been taken up by this talk that now all had to step out on deck.

"We're ready to go aboard our boat, sir," Skipper Tom reported.

"You and Dawson go, Halstead," nodded Mr. Seaton. "I want not more than sixty seconds with Captain Rawley in his own room."

When the charter-man of the "Restless" came out once more the thick pile of banknotes in his pocket had grown a good deal thinner, but Captain Rawley had been enlisted as a friend to the cause.

"Good-bye, old chums," cried d.i.c.k Davis, gripping a hand of Tom and Joe with each of his own.

"Good-bye! Good luck now, and all the way through life!" murmured Tom, earnestly, and with a hidden meaning that Davis caught.

As speedily as Tom and Joe had a.s.sisted Powell Seaton aboard the motor boat, Hank cast off, while the crew of the "Glide" began to raise the side gangway.

There were more rousing farewells between the two groups of Motor Boat Club boys. Then the hoa.r.s.e whistle of the "Glide" sounded, and the freighter began to go ahead at half-speed.

The "Restless" fell away and astern, yet she followed the freighter.

That she should do so had been understood with Captain Rawley, and with d.i.c.k and Ab. Powell Seaton intended to keep the "Glide" within sight for at least thirty-six hours, if possible, in order to make sure that the seventy-foot drab boat did not attempt to put Anson Dalton or any other messenger on board.

"If we stick to the sea for a hundred years, Joe," laughed Skipper Tom, as he followed the bigger craft at a distance of eight hundred feet, "nothing as lucky as this is likely to happen again. I was afraid I was booked for Rio, for sure, and it made me heartsick to think of leaving the 'Restless' so long and living aboard a big tub of an ordinary, steam-propelled s.h.i.+p!"

"I've taken the step, now, and can't very well change it," declared Mr. Seaton, who looked both pale and thoughtful. "Halstead, all I can hope and pray for is that your comrades on the s.h.i.+p ahead are as clever and watchful, as brave and honest as you think."

"If wondering about d.i.c.k and Ab is all that ever worries me," laughed Tom Halstead, easily, "I don't believe I shall ever have any wrinkles.

I know those boys, Mr. Seaton. We were born and raised in the same little Maine seacoast town, and I'd trust that pair with the errand if it were my own diamond field at stake."