"It is a lie!" exclaimed Pearl with an oath.

"Both of the shopkeepers are ready to swear to the ident.i.ty of their man. Now, I shall take the liberty to do what I have not had an opportunity to do before. I shall search the prisoner. Before I do it I should like to have you look at these two bills, Captain Gildrock. They are the fives paid for the pistol and the provisions by Hawlinshed." And Peppers handed him the bank-notes.

"It will be an easy matter to identify these bills. In addition to the stamp on them, this is the first time they have ever been out of the bank," said the captain, after he had looked at the bills.

Pearl was furious when the officer, a.s.sisted by Moody, attempted to search him. Moody handled him very roughly, and he was forced to submit to the operation. Peppers took from a pocket inside of his vest a wallet, which was found to contain quite a roll of new bills. The detective spread a couple of them out on the top of the centre-board casing. The red stamp appeared upon them, and they were exactly like those in the hands of the captain.

"It is a plain case, and I have nothing more to say," said Captain Gildrock. "You have made out your case, and I shall not interfere with your taking your prisoner to Plattsburgh."

"I knew you would be satisfied when you heard the case," added Peppers, as he put the money he had taken from Pearl into his pocket-book, and returned it to his pocket.

"I am entirely satisfied, Mr. Peppers," replied Captain Gildrock, glancing at the sky, and giving a general survey to the horizon to the southward. "I see the wind is hauling to the southward, and it looks like bad weather."

"I noticed that it was calm a little while ago," answered Peppers. "Do you think we shall have a storm, sir?"

"We shall have a good deal of wind, and some rain before many hours, if not before dark. I have to go in at Plattsburgh on my way south; and, if you choose, you can take your prisoner on board of the Sylph," continued the captain.

"Thank you, sir: I should be very glad to return in your beautiful yacht, especially if it is going to blow," answered the detective.

"You may take them on board in your boat, Mr. Jepson. I will take Mr.

Moody in mine," said Captain Gildrock. "Theodore, you will go in my boat."

Dory made no reply to this intimation. He was looking over Simms's Point out into the lake, where a fresh south-south-west wind was now rolling up the white-caps. The captain seated himself in the stern-sheets of the port boat. Moody a.s.sisted the officer in placing his prisoner in the starboard boat, and took his place with Captain Gildrock. Pearl, though very sulky and even ugly, offered no serious resistance to the transfer to the boat. With his arms handcuffed behind him, he took the seat in which Mr. Jepson placed him.

The starboard boat, having received her complement of pa.s.sengers, shoved off; and her crew pulled for the steamer. The port boat was waiting for Dory, who was standing at the bow, behind the foresail. He had the boat-hook in his hand, but he did not indicate in what manner he intended to use it. The fresh breeze was beginning to blow in the Gut, though the Goldwing was sheltered from its full force by the land.

"I am waiting for you, Theodore," called Captain Gildrock.

"I am not going, sir," replied Dory in a mild, but very decided, tone.

"Not going? Didn't you hear me say that I came down here after you?"

asked the captain, evidently much surprised at the boy's answer.

"I can't leave the boat here, sir. It is coming on to blow, and she will drift off," added Dory, struggling to suppress his emotion; for he expected a very unpleasant scene with his uncle now that the issue had been reached.

Captain Gildrock seemed to have no suspicion of the state of feeling to which his nephew had wrought himself up. He appeared to think that his invitation to go on board of the Sylph was enough, and the present att.i.tude of the boy was clearly a surprise to him. It was plain that he had not thought of the schooner, for he was silent when Dory intimated that she was not in a safe position for heavy weather.

"You can furl her sails, and throw over her anchor," said he after a moment's consideration.

"I don't think the anchor will hold her, sir: the sand is as hard as a rock here."

"Isn't she aground?"

"She was aground, sir."

"I will run the boat ahead, and we will drag her farther up on the shoal, and carry the anchor to the sh.o.r.e. Then she will be all right; and you can come up after her in a few days," continued Captain Gildrock, as he directed his bowman to shove off from the Goldwing.

The sails of the schooner were beginning to thrash and bang about as they felt the increasing breeze. The boat had been aground at the bow; but, the moment she was relieved of the weight of the three men who had been on board of her when she grounded, she floated again. Dory had noticed this fact; and, taking the boat-hook, he had thrust it down into the sand, and held her. As the wind freshened, driving her off from the sh.o.r.e, his hold was not strong enough upon the bottom to keep her any longer. But it must be added that Dory did not wish to hold her any longer.

The moment the boat-hook tore out of the bottom, the schooner began to make sternway. Then the jib, the sheet of which was still fast, filled, and the Goldwing whirled around like a top. Then a gust of wind struck the sails, and threw them all over. Dory rushed to the helm, trimmed the sails, and headed the Goldwing across the bay.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DORY DORNWOOD MANOEUVRES TO ESCAPE.

"What are you about, Theodore?" shouted Captain Gildrock, as the Goldwing shot away, heeled down to her gunwale under the blast of the strong wind. "Come about, and run her on the beach."

Dory took no notice of this direction, but grasped the tiller with all his might; and with the short stick it was all he could do to hold her.

He dropped the centre-board, and stood to the eastward, evidently to avoid the steam-yacht, which was now giving an occasional turn to her screw to avoid being driven out into the Gut. The starboard quarter-boat had just put the detective and his prisoner on board of her.

Captain Gildrock had put the other boat about; and the four oarsmen were straining their muscles, pulling in the direction the schooner had taken. Mr. Jepson saw what was going on; and, as soon as he had disposed of his pa.s.sengers, he started his boat to the eastward, with the intention of cutting off the Goldwing as she came out of the bay.

The sky was obscured by piles of angry-looking clouds, and every thing looked like a southerly storm. The sun was now not more than half an hour high, but there would be about an hour more of daylight. The Goldwing was making at least eight miles an hour, and Dory was satisfied that Captain Gildrock's boat could not overtake him. He had headed it to the north-east, so as to take the shortest course; for the Goldwing must soon go to the north, or she would run ash.o.r.e.

As soon as Dory noticed the change in the course of his uncle's boat, he began to haul in his sheets; for he saw that he was giving the boat the advantage of him, though it was not likely to gain enough to enable it to overhaul the schooner. The port boat was the only one from which he expected any interference. The skipper measured the distances very carefully with his eye. He calculated that he had to make half a mile to reach the point where the starboard boat would intercept him, if at all.

Mr. Jepson's boat had to get over at least three-quarters of this distance.

Dory thought his chances were very good. At any rate, he determined to keep on his present course until he found himself mistaken. The Goldwing was tearing through the water at a tremendous rate. Since his pa.s.sengers left her, she was trimmed down at the stern too much; but this did not interfere with her speed while she had a free wind.

The tiller was a great strain upon him, and it took all his strength to prevent the boat from coming up into the wind. There was certainly nothing like a lee helm in her present condition. As the wind increased in force the farther out he went from the sheltering sh.o.r.e, he was afraid he should not be able to hold her up to her course. If he let her broach to, and spilled the sails, he must certainly lose the race.

Taking the end of the sheet, which was considerably longer than was required, he took a turn with it around the end of the tiller. In this manner he was able to take the strain off his muscles in holding the boat; but at every gust of wind he had to put his helm up, and then let it off. He wanted the long tiller, but he could not leave the helm for a moment to get it.

The Goldwing occasionally dipped up the water over her lee wash-board; and, when she did this, it was necessary to "touch her up," or let her eat into the wind, as she would do if left to herself. The skipper was doing some bold and risky sailing, but he was determined to keep out of his uncle's hands if it were possible. He watched the starboard boat with the most intense interest. He had made up his mind that he had little to fear from her, even if she reached the point where the two courses of the boats met.

If Mr. Jepson put his boat in the course of the schooner, Dory did not see how he could help running over her. The collision would smash the quarter-boat, for it would strike her on the beam; while the schooner was not likely to be greatly harmed. She would strike with her bow, where she was least liable to injury.

As Dory continued on his course, he was satisfied that he was greatly outsailing the boat from which he expected trouble, if he had any. The water was getting rough, which impeded the speed of the quarter-boat, while it did not diminish that of the schooner. Five minutes later he was sure Mr. Jepson's boat would fall astern of him. He was confident of it, but he did not relax his care. The officer was urging his crew to increased exertions, but the oarsmen were evidently doing all they could.

The two craft were rapidly approaching each other. Dory realized that he should not have more than a boat's length to spare, but that was as good as a mile. He tried to keep cool, as his father had often told him he must do when there was any danger in a boat. His heart was in his mouth, and he tried in vain to swallow it; but it seemed to be too big for his throat.

"Hold on, Theodore!" shouted Mr. Jepson, when the two boats came within twenty feet of each other. "Your uncle wants you, and he won't do you any harm."

Dory kept his eyes on the sails of the Goldwing, and made no reply. He was not afraid that his uncle would hurt him. If this had been all, he would not have run away from him,--at least not before the danger menaced him.

"Hold on, Theodore!" repeated the officer of the starboard boat.

But Dory hauled the tiller up, and kept the sails full, though sundry buckets of water poured over the wash-board into the standing-room at this moment. The Goldwing dashed madly on her course, and the skipper did not even ease her off at this most exciting moment of the chase.

"Hold on! You will surely upset that boat," cried Mr. Jepson, who was no doubt greatly concerned about the fate of the boy who was doing this reckless sailing.

The moment of doubt on the part of the skipper had pa.s.sed. The stern of the schooner was abreast of the bow of the quarter-boat, and her mission was a failure. Dory had cleared both of the boats; and now he had to contend with the steamer, if with any thing. She could follow him in perfect safety wherever he went. He could not outsail her; and, if he accomplished any thing more, he must get out of her way before she could pick up her boats, and get under way again.

The Sylph could not run into the shoal water where the boats were; and the crews would have to pull back to her against the strong wind, which amounted to half a gale. It was not more than half as bad as it was the day he crossed the lake with a reefed mainsail, and the bonnet off the jib; but then he was not on the open lake, where he could get the full benefit of all that was blowing.