CHAPTER VIII.

EAGLES ON THE TRAIL.

"Hullo! Wonder what's become of those two fellows?"

Merritt voiced the inquiry, as he and Rob emerged from the police station. The sergeant in charge had promised to do all he could to apprehend the stealers of the pocketbook if they were anywhere within striking distance of Aquebogue.

Rob looked about him. There stood the automobile. But of the two lads they had left to guard it there was no sign. After waiting a reasonable time, the two Boy Scout leaders began to feel real alarm.

"Somehow I feel as if Hunt and his gang have got something to do with this," murmured Rob uneasily.

"It does seem queer," admitted Merritt. "Let's look around a bit more, and then, if we find no trace of them, we'll go back to the police station and look for aid."

"All right; I guess that's the best thing to do."

But, as we know, it was impossible that their search could terminate in anything but failure. Not a little worried, Rob informed their friend, the sergeant, of what had occurred. That official at once galvanized into action. Before this, he had not seemed to take much interest in their affairs. But now he really moved quickly. By telephone he summoned two detectives, and the lads soon put them in possession of the facts in the case.

"Pretty slim grounds to work on," remarked one of them with a shrug.

Rob could not but feel that this was true. After their consultation with the detectives, who at once set out to scour the place for some trace of Hunt and his crew, the two lads, much dispirited, and with heavy hearts, set out for home. They arrived there in the early morning, and turned in for a brief sleep. As Rob had expected, his father was not at all pleased when he learned of the nocturnal use made of his car, and of the serious consequences which had ensued. But Major Dangerfield, who had listened to the lad's story with interest--it was related at the breakfast table--was inclined to take a less serious view of the matter.

"After all, Mr. Blake," he said, "the boys behaved like true Boy Scouts.

It was their duty to try to aid in the matter of the pocketbook, and they did their best. I think that it was cleverly done, too."

"But young Hopkins and Hiram are missing," protested Mrs. Blake. "What will their parents say?"

"I don't think, from my observation of Master Hopkins, that he is the kind of lad to get into serious difficulties," said the major. "In fact, I am convinced that he has stumbled across some clew and is following it up."

"I hope it may be so, and that both of them are safe," said Mrs. Blake fervently.

The first duty, after the morning meal, was to call on Mrs. Hopkins, who was a widow, and also on Hiram's parents, and explain the case. It was not a pleasant task, but Rob saw it through with Spartan courage. He succeeded in quelling the first vivid alarm of the lads' parents, however, and promised to return with news of them before the day was over. This done, Major Dangerfield, Merritt and Rob set out in the Blake car for Aquebogue.

"It is your duty as Boy Scouts to find your missing comrades," said Mr.

Blake, as the car started off.

"We'll do it, if it's possible----" began Merritt dolefully.

"We'll do it, anyway," said Rob stoutly.

"That's the right Scout way to talk," said the major commendingly, "that is the spirit that will win."

No news greeted them on their arrival in Aquebogue. The two detectives were still out on the case, and the officials in charge had nothing to report. This was discouraging, but before long one of the detectives arrived with an important clew. He carried in his hand a paper package.

On being opened, it proved to contain two pairs of shoes, of Boy Scout pattern. Rob and Merritt immediately identified them as belonging to Hiram and young Hopkins. The major seemed much impressed by the value of this bit of evidence, and before many minutes had pa.s.sed they were all in the auto and spinning toward the spot where the articles of apparel had been discovered.

The detectives, it transpired, had not yet explored the hut, and Rob's keen eyes were the first to spy the jagged hole in its roof. He at once set his scout training to work. The first thing he observed was that the hole had been freshly torn. An investigation of the inside of the hut showed the traces of the fight between Hiram and young Hunt.

All at once Rob gave a sharp exclamation, and pounced on some object in a corner of the place. Its bright glitter, as the light fell on it through the hole in the roof, had attracted him at first. True Scout as he was, Rob did not allow even the minutest object to escape his scrutiny. In this case, he was richly rewarded, for what he had seen turned out to be a Scout b.u.t.ton. It was one that had been torn from Hiram's coat in the struggle.

"This is conclusive evidence that the two lads were here," decided the major. "What else can you deduce from what you have seen, Rob?"

The leader of the Eagle Patrol pondered a moment. Then he spoke.

"In the first place," he said decidedly, "it is evident that Tubby and Hiram in some way got on the track of our enemies in the town. They followed them here. That is proved by the finding of their shoes on that dune near the hut. They took their shoes off for some object, of course.

Evidently it must have been to silently observe the men who occupied this shanty. By looking at the footmarks in the sand outside, I traced them to the wall of the place. The steps did not turn in at the door, therefore, obviously, they must have climbed on the roof, for the steps ended at the low-hanging eaves, and they do not go back.

"An examination of the roof shows that it must have given way under their combined weight. See, that beam is as brittle as match-wood, from dry rot. They could not have been hurt--at least, I don't think so--or this b.u.t.ton, which must have been torn off in a struggle, for they are tightly sewn on, would not have been found."

"Very good," approved the major. "I have seen Indian scouts on the border who could not have done much better. But what is the next step?"

"To find out what has become of them, of course," put in Merritt.

"Well, let's see how close we can come to deciding that," said the major, with a side glance at the detectives, who seemed puzzled and bewildered at the swift deductive work of the young Scout.

Merritt left the hut and made a hasty examination of the numerous tracks without. He then scrutinized the muddy banks of the inlet closely. The tide was not yet full, and the marks of the sloop's keel still showed.

Also sand had been tracked on to the little wharf. It was evident that a vessel of some sort had lain there between tides. Equally plain did it appear, that the two missing lads had been carried on board her. Merritt lost no time in communicating his discoveries to his companions.

"You have done well," commended the former army officer, "I am convinced that your deductions are, in the main, correct. But now the thing is to get some craft to go in pursuit of these fellows."

"Ike Menjes, up the creek a little way, has a big gasoline launch he lets out," volunteered one of the detectives.

"We'll get it if possible," said the major instantly. "Is she a fast boat?"

"None quicker hereabouts," said the other arm of the law.

Ten minutes later a bargain had been struck, and with Ike Menjes at the engine, and Rob at the wheel, the swift launch _Algonquin_ was dashing off down the winding creek headed for the open sea. As she tumbled and rolled through the rough waters of the bar at the creek's mouth, Rob's eye swept the sky.

"Bad weather coming," he remarked.

"No need to worry in this craft," declared Ike; "she's weathered the worst we ever get off here."

"I expect so," agreed the major, with an approving glance at the craft's broad lines and generous beam.

Before many moments had pa.s.sed, Rob's prediction came true. The _Algonquin_, without any diminution of speed, was being pushed along through a rapidly rising sea, while the wind howled about her, growing stronger every moment. Rob caught himself wondering what sort of a craft the kidnappers of the boys possessed. He hoped it was staunch, for in his judgment the blow was going to be a bad one.

"It'll get worser before it gets betterer," opined Ike Menjes, coming forward from his engines and peering ahead at the tumbling ma.s.ses of green water. The rising wind caught their tops and feathered them off in ma.s.ses of snowy spume. Overhead, dark, ragged clouds raced along. So low did they hang that they seemed almost to touch the crests of the angry waves.

Each time the _Algonquin_ topped a roller and then staggered down into a deep trough, Rob scanned the surrounding sea eagerly. But no sign, had, so far, appeared, of any craft resembling the one which they knew must have left the creek. Seaward some sails showed, but they were all those of large coasting schooners.

The craft they were in search of was, no doubt, a smallish vessel, otherwise she could not have negotiated the narrow, winding creek, with its innumerable bends and shallow places.

"Keep more in sh.o.r.e," advised Ike. "They may have hugged the land to get the benefit of the weather sh.o.r.e."

Rob headed closer in toward the low-lying coast. He could see the waves breaking angrily in white ma.s.ses on the sandy beach. All at once, above a distant point of land, he sighted the gray shoulder of a sail. The next instant it had vanished.

Had it found an opening through which to slip into an inlet in the bleak coast, or had it foundered in the wild breakers?

The question agitated Rob hugely. Some intuition told him that the craft he had glimpsed had been the one they were in search of, but of its fate they could have no immediate knowledge.