Little Bobtail Part 36

"Are you sure she will carry it? It blows heavy outside, and the wind comes in flaws," added Mr. Hines.

"I know her like a book. She will carry her jib and mainsail to-day, but we have one reef in. The Eagle has two miles or more the start of us; but we will give her a sweat," said Bobtail.

"She is hoisting her foresail now."

"She will have to take it in again when she gets clear of the land."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

With her jib set, the Skylark occasionally put her scuppers under, but she was as stiff as Mount Desert itself, and only heeled over just so far, under any flaw that came.

"I didn't think the captain would run for it so soon," said Mr. Hines.

"He didn't even go to the hotel, where a letter is waiting for him. It has the St. John postmark upon it, and I know what that means without opening it."

"He tried to run me down," added Bobtail.

"I saw him do it. His game is nearly up. I intended to arrest him when he came down from the hotel, but he took the alarm from what Ben told him."

As the Eagle ran out from the land, it was evident that she could not long carry her foresail. It was taken in very soon, but she sailed faster without it than with it. The Skylark gained rapidly upon her. The water--Frenchman's Bay--was studded with islands, but Mr. Hines, who had taken the helm, was perfectly familiar with the navigation. As the race began to be a desperate one for Captain c.h.i.n.ks, he dodged in among the islands, tempting his pursuer to make short cuts over sunken ledges; but in all these expedients he failed. The Eagle was a keel boat, and drew more water than the Skylark, so that wherever the former went the latter need not fear to follow. At last Captain c.h.i.n.ks appeared to have given up the race, and Mr. Hines surmised that he was running for a landing-place on one of the islands. But the Skylark was still gaining, and was now almost abreast of the Eagle.

"All ready, Mr. Brooks," said the detective, as the bowsprit of the sloop came up with the quarter of the schooner.

"I'm ready," replied the deputy sheriff, as he went forward to the bow of the yacht.

"Stand by the sheets, Bobtail, for I don't know what he will do next."

"Ay, ay, sir!" responded the skipper. "Have a fender ready, Monkey."

"All right."

In a moment more, the forecastle of the Skylark was abreast, on the weather side, of the Eagle, taking the wind out of her mainsail in part.

"Hard down," shouted Mr. Brooks, as he saw Captain Clunks jam down the helm of the schooner.

Both boats came up into the wind alongside each other, and Monkey was busy with his fender. The deputy sheriff leaped upon the deck of the Eagle, and Mr. Hines, giving the helm to Bobtail, followed him. The skipper permitted the yacht to come about, and she went clear of the other boat.

"You are my prisoner, Captain c.h.i.n.ks," said Mr. Brooks.

"What for?" gasped the captain.

"For stealing that letter."

"I didn't steal it."

"That remains to be proved."

"We ain't in Knox County now."

"Never mind; I will take you for violating the revenue laws," added Mr.

Hines, as he took the helm of the schooner.

"I hain't done nothing," protested Captain c.h.i.n.ks.

"We will go over to Camden, and settle that point some other time."

The captain was obliged to give it up, and he groaned in bitterness of spirit. To be charged with stealing the letter, and with violating the revenue laws at the same time, was more than he had antic.i.p.ated. On the first, if convicted, he would be sentenced to imprisonment, and on the other, to pay a heavy fine. His crimes brought loss of liberty and loss of property.

Bobtail eased off his mainsheet, and waited for the Eagle to come up.

Mr. Hines had already decided to return to Camden in Captain c.h.i.n.ks's boat, and when he had announced his purpose, the Skylark filled away again. It was now about noon, and as the wind was contrary for at least half the way back to Camden, the skipper hardly expected to reach his destination that night. The yacht very soon ran away from the schooner, and at six o'clock had made half the distance. She had come up with the point which forms the south-eastern point of the town of Brooklyn, where she started her sheets, and ran through the channel between Deer Island and Sedgwick.

The wind was still unsteady, coming in heavy flaws; but now it was beginning to haul more to the southward. This change was favorable, for it enabled the Skylark to lay her course for Camden. But an awful sea was rolling in from the ocean, and the yacht jumped like a galloping horse. The wind freshened into a gale with the change, and the gusts were more fitful and violent. The jib was taken in, and Monkey was thoroughly ducked in the operation, for the Skylark occasionally slapped the waves with her bowsprit. Great black clouds were rolling up off to seaward, but Bobtail was confident that the yacht was equal to anything.

Under the lee of an island, the mainsail was close-reefed; but she flew over the waves, and the skipper hoped to reach his destination by nine in the evening. At eight o'clock, while it was still light, he discovered a schooner working down the bay under jib and reefed mainsail which he recognized as the Pen.o.bscot.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE WRECK OF THE PEn.o.bSCOT.

"That's the Pen.o.bscot!" exclaimed Bobtail, as soon as he identified her.

"She is taking a nasty night to go to sea," added Monkey.

"She will put into Rockland or Camden. I suppose the colonel is in a hurry to get to Newport for some race. He told me yesterday he should sail to-day."

"She ain't going into Camden. If she was, she wouldn't be out there.

She's right off the ledges, and if she don't tack soon, she'll be on 'em," said the Darwinian.

"I think she's going into Rockland. She can make it in one more stretch."

"She can get in behind Owl's Head, and lay as easy as if she was in a mill pond."

"That's an awful sea out there, Monkey," said Bobtail. "See the breakers on that lower ledge. If I was the captain of the Pen.o.bscot, I should go in stays. There she goes!"

At this moment the sails of the large yacht shook, as her head came up to the wind. But the next instant she fell off, heeled over, and drove ahead again. Bobtail distinctly heard a shout from her, though she was a mile distant. He watched her with his heart in his mouth, and his worst fears were realized when he saw her lift her bow high up in the water.

She had run upon the ledge.

"By gracious! she is on the rocks!" cried Bobtail, wild with excitement and anxiety.

"So she is!" gasped Monkey.

Then came a shriek in the tones of a woman's voice, whose piercing note was heard above the roaring of the billows.

"That's Mrs. Montague," said Bobtail. "Get your warp-line out, Monkey.

We have got something to do to-night."

The Skylark flew on her mission of rescue, and her skipper watched the Pen.o.bscot with intense interest. Her bow rose and fell at every sea, and it was evident that she was cras.h.i.+ng her timbers at every motion. In five minutes from the time she struck, the smaller yacht came up with her. She had gone upon the last ledge of the series that extends to the southward from Islesboro'. Bobtail ran to the west of the ledges, and, going entirely round to avoid gybing, he came up into the wind close under the stern of the Pen.o.bscot. He heard her planks and timbers grinding on the rocks. Monkey heaved the warp-line, which was caught by the sailors on board of the wreck. The mainsail of the Skylark was lowered.