Dick Merriwell's Pranks Part 64

"My dear Coddington," said the colonel, "the prospect of a little fighting makes my blood stir. Are yo' armed, suh?"

"I have my pistol, don't you know," answered the Englishman.

"Very good, suh. I have two pistols, and I can use them both. We'll make it red-hot fo' this Spaniard and his Turkish friend, if we evah catch them."

"But I'm afraid we'll never catch them," said Coddington. "This steamer the boy has secured is a slow old tub."

"We'll overtake them if we have to pursue them clean up to Lake Victoria Nyanza," declared d.i.c.k grimly. "I don't see why they turned up the river, if they wish to get away."

"That's what puzzled me up a plenty, pard," put in Buckhart. "Mebbe Budthorne made a mistake; mebbe the Turk's yacht went down the river."

But Budthorne insisted that he had made no mistake, and so, when they had boarded the excursion steamer and found everything ready for the start, they headed toward the upper waters of the Nile.

"Look there!"

"Where?"

The exclamation and the question were spoken in a whisper. d.i.c.k uttered the first; the second came from several of his companions.

"Close to the sh.o.r.e in that cove yonder."

"What do you see?"

"Looks like the black hulk of a boat in the shadow of those thick palms."

"It sure does look that way!" palpitated Buckhart.

"But it may be one of these river boats, don't you know," said Coddington. "They find many places where they swing in to the sh.o.r.e and tie up."

"She shows no light," said Colonel Stringer.

d.i.c.k spoke to the pilot.

"Can you run in there?" he asked. "We think we see a boat near the sh.o.r.e."

The pilot explained that the river was quite deep there, such current as there was being thrown near the bank by its winding course. He sounded the bell for half speed and the steamer glided toward the deep shadows.

Professor Gunn was very nervous.

"We must be near the site of old Memphis," he said. "The ruins are covered by a great palm grove, and you can see plenty of palms there, on the sh.o.r.e."

But the others were watching the small, dark hulk that lay near the sh.o.r.e close under the shadow of the palms, through which the light from the low-lying moon sifted in spots.

"Whoever is on board there, they ought to know we're coming," growled Buckhart, disgusted by the fuss made by the little steamer, which was snorting and wheezing in a manner to be heard afar in the wonderful silence of that Egyptian night.

"I think some one is stirring, don't you know," said Coddington. "I fancied I saw something move."

d.i.c.k had fancied the same. To him it seemed as if some dark figures left the steamer and slipped away into the gloom of the palms. Once something like a m.u.f.fled cry came out across the water, but the wheezing of the steamer prevented them from hearing it distinctly. Even though it were a cry of some sort, they knew it might come from a night bird or a prowling wild beast amid the ruins of the ancient city.

Suddenly and unexpectedly a bar of light shot out from the black hulk near the sh.o.r.e. It struck in their faces, dazzling and blinding them.

Involuntarily they half crouched, while several of them reached for their weapons.

"A searchlight!" exclaimed d.i.c.k. "We've found the yacht! Look out for trouble!"

"There sure is liable to be some shooting!" breathed Buckhart; "and we're mighty fine targets here in this light. Look out for bullets!"

Then a voice hailed them. Some one called to them in Turkish. It was a challenge, although they did not understand the words.

"Talk English," cried d.i.c.k. "We don't understand that lingo."

"No, we don't savvy it any at all," said Buckhart.

"Are you trying to collide with me?" demanded a voice from behind the searchlight. "Keep off!"

"He savvys United States all right," said Brad, in deep satisfaction.

"Now we can powwow with him."

The captain of the steamer gave a signal for the engineer to reverse his engines.

"Who are you?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"What right have you to ask?" was the indignant retort.

"We take the right. Better answer."

"I am a peaceful individual seeking to get some sleep. Why do you come pounding in here with your noisy old boat and disturb my rest?"

"He's a whole lot saucy," growled the Texan.

"We are looking for a private yacht, owned by a Turkish gentleman,"

explained d.i.c.k.

"A Turkish gentleman-not!" muttered Buckhart.

"You are friends?" was the inquiry from behind the source of the light.

"Not exactly; but we have important business with the gentleman."

"What's his name?"

"What's your name?"

d.i.c.k was talking to give the captain time to bring the steamer alongside the yacht, which was no simple task under the circ.u.mstances.

Evidently the unknown did not fancy d.i.c.k's manner of speech, for he again commanded them to keep off.

"If you touch my boat you will mar her," he said. "I don't know you. You may be scoundrels, robbers, a.s.sa.s.sins."