CHAPTER XXXVIII.
ALEXANDER SLOCUM IS BROUGHT TO BOOK
In half an hour after the arrest of the pickpocket the young oarsman and his companions found themselves on the outskirts of Brooklyn and bowling along a smooth country road which the detectives said they knew well.
On and on they went, until Colonel Dartwell asked the driver how much further they had to go.
“About half a mile, sir,” was the answer.
His words proved correct. Turning into a side road, the carriage came to the entrance to a large grounds, surrounded by a high board fence.
Over the gateway was the sign:
DR. HALCONE’S PRIVATE SANITARIUM
“A private lunatic asylum,” murmured Colonel Dartwell.
“Yes, sir,” said the driver. “You know I told you they said the young lady was a bit off.”
“What shall we do?” was the question put by the westerner to the detectives. “Shall we go in boldly and order them to produce the girl?”
“Will they do it?” asked Jerry. “They may be in Slocum’s pay, and hide her away.”
“The young man is right,” said one of the detectives. “We’ll drive on a way and then sneak back and size the place up.”
This was done, and five minutes later found the colonel and our hero walking along a hedge which separated the grounds on one side from a woods.
“Look there!” Jerry cried suddenly, and pointed to an upper window of the brick building beyond.
He had seen Nellie Ardell’s face as the young lady walked about the apartment. As the others gazed upward Alexander Slocum appeared. He held a sheet of paper and a pen in his hands.
“He wants her to sign something,” cried our hero in a low voice. “See! see! he is going to force her.”
“Leave me be, Mr. Slocum,” those below heard Nellie Ardell exclaim. “I will not sign off my interest in that property. Leave me be! Oh, that somebody was at hand to help me!”
“Come on – there is no time to waste!” cried Colonel Dartwell, and pushed through the hedge.
Jerry followed, and both ran for a side door of the building, which stood open.
Here they found themselves confronted by a burly man of advanced age, evidently the proprietor of the sanitarium.
“Here, what do you want here?” he demanded, roughly.
“We want that young lady upstairs!” cried Jerry.
“You can’t have her.”
“We’ll see about that,” put in Colonel Dartwell. “You have no authority to detain her here.”
“She is insane, and – ”
“Help! help!” came from upstairs, and rushing past the burly doctor, Jerry skipped up the stairs, three steps at a time.
The colonel came behind. The doctor was about to remonstrate when he found himself confronted by the two detectives.
Our hero and the colonel soon found the proper door. It was locked, but putting his shoulder to it the young oarsman soon burst it open.
Alexander Slocum stood at the table in the center of the room. He had Nellie Ardell by the wrist, and was endeavoring to force her to sign the paper before them.
“Leave her alone, you villain!” cried Jerry, and dragged him backward.
“Jerry Upton!” exclaimed the young woman, and her tone was full of joy. “Oh, how thankful I am that you have come!”
“What – what is the meaning of this?” asked Slocum, turning deadly pale.
“It means that you have been found out, Alexander Slocum,” replied our hero. “We have learned – ”
“Darnley the boomer!” burst out Colonel Dartwell at this point. “So this is where you drifted to after the swindle at Silver Run.”
“Do you know him?” queried Jerry.
“Only too well. He was in Colorado for several years under the name of Chester Darnley. He is a boomer and all-around swindler.”
“It’s a – a falsehood,” burst from Alexander Slocum’s lips, but his voice trembled as he spoke.
“I can prove all I say,” said the colonel. “There are witnesses enough against you at Silver Run.”
Slocum was all but overcome. He sank in a chair, and a moment later one of the detectives came up and slipped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.
The proprietor of the so-called sanitarium was also arrested, and both prisoners were driven down to the Brooklyn police station. A hearing was had, and the prisoners were held for trial.
From Brooklyn the colonel, Nellie, and Jerry returned to New York. Nellie left the party to go home, and Jerry and the colonel continued on to Slocum’s office with an officer.
The book-keeper, Casey, was found and arrested, and the office was placed in care of the authorities. The next day Jerry recovered his father’s papers and also those belonging to Nellie Ardell.
The young oarsman lost no time in sending word home how matters had turned, stating that the claim was probably worth a good deal of money. He added that if his father was not well enough to come to the metropolis, Colonel Dartwell stood ready to take entire charge of the case and see that they got their rights.
An answer soon came back, written by Mrs. Upton. Mr. Upton was well enough to sit up, but that was all, and he would be glad enough to do as his son had suggested. So the necessary papers were made out, and a suit instituted against Alexander Slocum.
In the meantime, Mr. Islen sold out his bindery, and by this turn of affairs our hero found himself out of employment. But he had had enough of the great metropolis for the present, and was glad enough to go back to Lakeview while awaiting the time when Slocum should be brought to trial.
The news of what he had accomplished had leaked out, and when he arrived he found Harry and Blumpo awaiting him at the depot.
“You’re a clever one, Jerry!” cried Harry, shaking his hand warmly. “To run off on the quiet and come back with a fortune for your family.”
“We haven’t got the fortune yet,” laughed the young oarsman. “But we hope to have it before long.”
“I always said Jerry was de greatest boy dat eber was born,” ejaculated Blumpo, with his face on a broad grin.
“How is your father? Blumpo,” asked Jerry, to change the subject.
“He’s very well again.”
“You must tell us your whole story,” went on Harry. “I am dying to hear it.”
“I will – but I must get home first,” answered the young oarsman.
He was soon on his way to the farm, where his parents received him with open arms. A splendid dinner was awaiting him – such a repast as he had not had since leaving – but none of the food was touched until his tale was told from end to end, with all of its details as they have been presented to my readers.
“You did well, son,” was Mr. Upton’s comment. “I don’t believe anybody could have done better.”
Mrs. Upton smiled fondly and put her arms about the boy.
“He’s our Jerry, father,” was all she said, but the simple words meant a good deal.
His own story told, and the dinner finished, Jerry wanted to know the news around Lakeview, but his parents had little to tell.
“I have not been out since your father was taken down,” said Mrs. Upton. “You’ll have to asked Harry Parker and your other friends.”
“Have Si Peters and Wash Crosby been caught yet?”
“No, and I doubt if they ever do catch them,” responded Mrs. Upton.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
HARRY TO THE RESCUE
Early on the following morning Harry came over to take Jerry for a sail on the lake in the Whistler.
“We can sail and talk at the same time,” he explained. “I know you must be longing for a whiff of the water.”
“You are right there, Harry,” returned the young oarsman, “Lake Otasco is better than the hot pavements of New York City a hundred times over.”
The two boys soon set off. Harry had expected Blumpo to accompany them, but that youth was out in his own boat with a party that had hired the craft for several days.
“Blumpo is making money,” said Harry, “and I am glad of it.”
“So am I,” replied our hero. “He is an odd sort of chap, but his heart is of gold.”
The Whistler was soon on her way up the lake with old Jack Broxton at the tiller, and as the breeze was steady the boys had little to do but talk. Once again our hero related his story, and Harry proved a most attentive listener.
“That Alexander Slocum ought to go to prison for life,” he said, at the conclusion. “The idea of daring to make out that Nellie Ardell was insane.”
“It was a bold scheme, Harry.”
“It seems to me the world is full of bad people, Jerry. Look at such men as that Slocum and his tools, and then at such boys as Si Peters and Wash Crosby.”
“Where do you suppose Crosby and Peters are?”
“The authorities don’t know. But Blumpo told me a few days ago he was almost certain he had seen them on the north shore of the lake. He said they took to their heels in the bushes just about the time he spotted them.”
“They are bound to be brought to justice sooner or later.”
“I don’t know. But I do know one thing; I would like to get back my gold watch.”
Thus the talk ran on, until Hermit Island was reached. Here they run in for a few minutes, to pass a word with Blumpo’s father, who greeted them cordially. After this, they continued up along the south side of the lake.
As they skirted the beautiful shore they gradually crept up to a large excursion boat. “Hullo, what’s that boat doing here?” cried Jerry.
“It’s a Sunday-school excursion from Cedar Falls,” replied his chum.
The steamboat was not a large one and she seemed to have more than her regular allowance of passengers aboard. Every deck was full of grown folks and children, dressed in their best.
A band was playing a merry air, and some of the children were singing.
“Let’s give them a cheer,” suggested the young oarsman, as they drew closer.
“All right,” replied Harry, pulling out his handkerchief. “One, two, three. Hurrah! hur – ”
Harry stopped short, as a cry of horror arose on board of the excursion boat.
A young girl had been standing close to the rail on a camp stool at the bow of the boat.
As the steamboat swung around the girl lost her balance.
She tried to save herself, and, failing, pitched headlong into the water.
Harry saw her go under the greenish waves.
“She’ll be struck by the paddle wheel,” he yelled, and then, splash! he was overboard himself.
Bravely he struck out to save the maiden.
The order was given to back the steamboat.
The wheels churned up the water into a white foam, but still the momentum carried the large craft on. In the meantime Harry came up and struck out valiantly for the girl, who was now going down for a second time.
“Save her! Save her!” shrieked the mother of the girl, in an agony of fear.
Half a dozen life preservers were thrown overboard, but none came to where the girl could reach them.
The mother of the girl wanted to join her daughter in the water but strong hands held her back.
“The young fellow will save her, madam!”
“He’s a true hero!”
Life lines were thrown over, but even these did no good.
The steamboat swung around, but the run of the water washed the girl closer and closer to the paddle wheel.
She now came up a second time. Should she sink again all would be over.
Harry was swimming with all the strength and skill at his command.
At last he was within a yard of the struggling girl.
The maiden threw up her hands and went under.
As quick as a flash Harry dove down.
A second passed. Then up came the youth with the girl clinging to his shoulder.
But now the current was apparently too strong for both of them.
They were hurled up against the paddle wheel of the steamboat, and then disappeared entirely from view.
Jack Broxton gave a groan.
“Harry is lost!”
Jerry shuddered.
“It looks like it,” he replied.
The captain of the steamboat did not dare to move his craft for fear he would do more harm than good.
The mother of the girl continued to struggle to free herself.
But now a cry was heard. It came from the stern of the steamboat.
“There they are!”
“The girl is safe and so is that brave young man.”
Jerry and Jack Broxton heard the cry, and immediately put about in their yacht.
Harry was swimming along on his side. The girl was too weak to support herself, and he was holding her up well out of the water.
It took the Whistler but a moment to run up alongside of the pair. Jerry reached over and caught hold of the girl and placed her on deck.
In the meantime Harry secured a rope thrown by Jack Broxton and pulled himself up.
A cheer arose from those on the excursion boat.
“She is safe now, sure!”
The girl was too exhausted to move, and both boys rubbed her hands and did what they could for her.
Jack Broxton ran up alongside of the steamboat and a little later the girl was placed on board.
The mother clasped her child to her breast.
“Go ahead, Jack,” said Harry in a low voice. “I don’t want the crowd to stare at me.”
“But the mother wants to thank you,” began Jerry.
But Harry would not listen. He was too modest, and made Jack Broxton actually run away from the excursion boat.
But five hundred people cheered Harry and waved their handkerchiefs.
“How did you escape the steamboat?” asked Jerry, when the excitement was over.
“We went under part of her,” was the reply. “I swam for all I knew how, but it was a close call.”
After this Harry retired to the cabin and changed his clothing. He drank several cups of hot coffee, and half an hour later declared that he felt as well as ever.
The remainder of the run down the lake was uneventful. They dropped anchor near the mouth of the Poplar River and started in to fish.
They had all the necessary tackle on board, and procured bait at a boathouse near by.
The yacht was anchored at a well-known spot, and then the sport began.
“I’ve a bite!” cried Harry
And sure enough he had something. He began to reel in with great rapidity.
“First fish,” said Jerry.
Scarcely had Harry landed his haul than click, click, click went Jerry’s reel. The line went off like a flash.
Jerry began to reel in. That something big was on his hook was certain.
The fish darted in every direction and Jerry had his hands full playing him.
“You’ll lose him!” cried Harry, excitedly.
“I’ll do my best with him,” responded Jerry, quietly.
After playing the fish for nearly five minutes he reeled him in rapidly.
“Get the landing net, Jack,” he said, and the old tar stood ready the moment the fish came into view.
“A bass! A three-pounder!” cried Harry. “By jinks! but that’s a haul worth making!”
It was indeed a beautiful catch, and Jerry was justly proud of it.
After this nothing was caught for twenty minutes. Then Harry landed a fine fat perch weighing a pound. Jack was not fishing, but smoked and looked on contentedly.
Evening found them with a fine mess of bass and perch.
“Not a bad haul,” said Jerry, as he surveyed the lot.
“I reckon it’s about time to be gitting back,” observed Jack Broxton. “We want ter make Lakeview afore dark.”
So the anchor was hoisted and away they went before a nine-knot breeze.
The return was made along the north shore. Here there were numerous little islands, separated from the mainland by a series of channels, some shallow and others deep enough to admit of the passage of a good-sized yacht.
The Whistler was just passing one of these channels, and Jerry and Harry were at the side, cleaning their fish, when suddenly old Jack Broxton uttered a cry.
“What is it, Jack?” asked the young oarsman, quickly, while Harry also raised up.
“There’s a boat over yonder, back of that island, and I’m certain I saw Si Peters and Wash Crosby on board,” was the old boatman’s interesting answer.
CHAPTER XL.
A STRUGGLE IN THE DARK
“You are sure?” demanded Jerry and Harry, in a breath.
“Yes. The boat had the name Redeye painted on the stern. If I remember rightly, she belongs to a tough crowd of fishermen from Long Lake.”
“Where is she now?” demanded Harry.
“Back there, somewhere.”
“We must follow that boat; eh, Jerry?”
“I am willing,” replied the young oarsman.
“You may have lively times with that crowd,” put in Jack Broxton with a grave shake of his head.
“We’ll risk it,” answered Harry. He was thinking of his missing gold watch.
The course of the Whistler was changed, and soon they rounded the shore of the island Jack Broxton had pointed out.
Sure enough, there was the Redeye, with all sails set, making up the lake.
Near the stern stood Si Peters, Wash Crosby and several rascally looking men.
“They have discovered that we are after them,” cried Jerry, a few minutes later. “See, they are crowding on all sail!”
The young oarsman was right. Leaving the vicinity of the islands, the other craft stood out boldly into the lake, and cut the water like a knife.
“She’s a good one,” observed Jack Broxton.
The Whistler already had all sails out; and thus the craft went on, neither gaining nor losing for half an hour.
Then darkness settled over the lake, and the wind fell flat.
“We’ve lost them now,” said Harry, dismally.
“It’s a good thing the wind has fallen,” replied Jerry.
“How so?”
“As soon as it is dark enough we can take the row-boat and follow in that.”
“That’s an idea.”
Soon night had settled over Lake Otasco. Then our hero and Harry lost no time in entering the tender of the Whistler.
“Make as little noise as possible,” cautioned Jerry.
He was in the bow peering ahead, while Harry was at the oars.
So they went on a distance of a quarter of a mile.
“See anything?” whispered Harry.
“Not yet. Pull in a little closer to shore. I have an idea Peters and Crosby may land somewhere around here.”
“Like as not that is their game.”
On they went, the darkness growing more intense as they proceeded. There was no moon, and the stars shone but faintly in the blue vault overhead.
Suddenly Jerry held up his hand as a sign to Harry to stop rowing. Instantly his chum raised the oars.
“What do you see?” he whispered.
“Something ahead – I can’t make out just what yet.”
Several minutes of breathless silence followed. Then Jerry bent back.
“The Redeye is just ahead, but I believe Si Peters and Wash Crosby have already left her.”
A second later a low but clear cry rang out:
“You left that bundle behind, Crosby!”
“Never mind, I don’t want the old suit,” was the reply, coming from some distance in toward shore.
“That settles it,” whispered Jerry. “Crosby and Peters are in a row-boat pulling for shore, beyond a doubt.”
“That’s all right,” replied Harry. “I would rather tackle them than all those on the Redeye.”
“So would I.”
The row-boat was headed for the west.
How far off the shore was they did not know.
They had located the voice of Crosby and now steered in the direction.
Jerry at the bow continued to keep his ears on the alert.
“A little to the right, now,” he said. “That’s it. If you don’t make too much noise we’ll surprise them completely.”
“I think the best thing we can do is to follow them after they land, until they reach some place where we can have them locked up, Jerry.”
“That is certainly a good plan. It will save us the trouble of dragging them off to jail, if we are fortunate enough to capture them.”
Harry’s plan was accepted, and on they went.
“Look!” cried Jerry, presently, and pointed down the shore.
“I don’t see anything, Jerry.”
“Don’t you see the lights coming toward us?”
Harry strained his eyes.
“I see them now.”
“It’s a steamer coming this way.”
“My gracious, we’ll have to get out of the way or we’ll be run down!”
“She is close in shore,” went on Jerry. “I believe she’ll pass between the other row-boat and ours.”
“Let us hold up a minute and see what she intends to do,” said Harry.
He rested on his oars. Soon the craft came closer. It was the excursion boat on her return.
“She is not coming near us,” said Jerry. “Pull on.”
Harry had just taken to the oars again, when a wild cry rang out. It came from the row-boat which held Peters and Crosby.
“Stop! Don’t run us down!”
“The steamboat is onto them!” ejaculated Jerry.
Scarcely had he spoken when there came another cry, followed by a crash.
“They’ve been struck!” yelled Harry.
“Pull ahead!” cried Jerry. “Like as not they have either been killed or are drowning!”
He sprang to Harry’s side, and with an oar each they sped on to the assistance of the unfortunate ones.
In the meanwhile the steamboat stopped.
“What’s the trouble?” called a voice.
No answer was vouchsafed, and a moment later the steamboat went on.
“Like as not, Si Peters and Wash Crosby are dead,” observed Harry, as he bent to his oar.
“We’ll soon know the truth,” replied the young oarsman.
Both boys pulled a swift stroke, and were soon on the spot where the catastrophe had occurred.
In the meanwhile the steamboat was fast disappearing in the distance. Soon the last light faded from sight.
In the darkness of the night Jerry and Harry could see but little.
“There is an oar,” cried Harry, pointing it out.
“And there is part of the row-boat’s bottom,” said Jerry. “It looks as if the row-boat was actually ground to pieces.”
“Then it isn’t likely that Si Peters and Wash Crosby escaped.”
“Well, we’ll take a good look around.”
The two continued to row about, but for a long while saw nothing but bits of wreckage.
Then our hero beheld a form floating just to their right.
“Take both oars, Harry,” he said, “and be careful, for that is Wash Crosby’s body.”
Harry took the oars and began to row slowly.
As he moved on, Jerry stood in the bow.
At that instant a strange thing happened. Si Peters came up under the boat, giving it such a shove that Jerry was hurled overboard.
Then, with a swiftness that was really surprising, Si Peters clambered into the row-boat.
In his hand he held part of a broken oar.
“Jump out after Jerry Upton!” he growled as he advanced upon Harry.
Without replying, Harry leaped up to defend himself. As he did this he saw that Jerry and Wash Crosby were fighting in the water.
Neither Crosby nor Peters had been hurt by the collision, both having left their craft before the steamboat struck it.
Their one thought now was to get the good row-boat away from our two heroes.
Jerry, thinking Wash Crosby seriously hurt, was taken completely by surprise.
Crosby caught him by the shoulder and forced him far under the water, and then did his best to hold him there.
Crosby was a powerful fellow, and he well understood what defeat and capture meant – a term in prison.
But, as we know, Jerry’s muscles were like iron, and his first surprise over, he went for Crosby tooth and nail.
With a powerful twist he freed himself from the rascal’s grasp and swam some distance away.
Then coming up behind Crosby, the young oarsman let out with his right fist.
The blow took the Rockpoint bully behind the ear, and Crosby let out a wild yell of pain, broken by a gasp for air, as he went under the bosom of the ocean.
As he went down, our hero gave him an extra shove and then swam with all speed for the row-boat, which had drifted several yards away.
He saw Harry and Si Peters standing up in the boat. Peters had just struck at his chum, and Harry had partly dodged the vicious blow.
But the broken oar landed on Harry’s arm, causing him to cry out from pain.
“Drop that, Si Peters.”
The command, coming so unexpectedly, startled Peters. He turned, to find Jerry at the gunwale directly behind him.
“Oh, Jerry, help!” cried Harry.
Si Peters gave a low yell of rage.
Again Harry sprang away, and now armed himself with an oar.
“You can’t frighten me, you fool!” shouted Peters. “Don’t you dare to put your hand on the boat!”
And as Jerry grasped the gunwale, Peters raised his heavy foot as if to crush our hero’s fingers.
But Jerry was too quick for him.
He dropped off. Then whizz! something dark flew through the air.
It was part of the broken oar, thrown by Jerry, and it took Si Peters in the neck.
“Whack him one, Harry, while you have the chance!”
Harry needed no advice on the subject. He sprang in, and a second later a resounding crack laid Si Peters flat on his back.
“That was a good one,” cried Jerry, as he clambered over the side. “Now bind him before he comes to.”
“Haven’t a blessed thing,” replied Harry.
“Here is some cord. Tie his hands together.”
While Harry was doing this, Jerry began to look around for Wash Crosby.
“This way! We are in trouble!” yelled Crosby.
“Pshaw!” exclaimed Jerry. “He’ll have that yacht down on us in another minute.”
But for once the young oarsman was mistaken. The men on the Redeye had no desire, after befriending Si Peters and Wash Crosby, to fall into the hands of the law, and instead of coming up they allowed their craft to float off in an opposite direction.
“There is Crosby!” shouted Jerry, a moment later, as he beheld the youth floundering around in the water. “And look, here comes the Whistler.”
He was right. A slight breeze had sprung up and Jack Broxton had nursed the yacht along with all of the skill at his command.
The coming of the old sailor ended the battle, so far as the bad boys from Rockpoint were concerned. Both Si Peters and Wash Crosby were hauled on board, and here they were tightly bound, to prevent their making further trouble.
It was after midnight when Lakeview was reached and the prisoners were handed over to the local police. Then Harry and Jerry separated, to go home and tell of their fresh adventures.
The following morning Si Peters and Wash Crosby were taken to Rockpoint and an examination was held. The bad boys confessed robbing the hotel and the larger part of the money taken was recovered, as was also Harry’s gold watch, which Si Peters had been bold enough to wear. Some time later the evil-doers were tried and sent to jail, and that was the last our heroes heard of them.