"Is this the Seminole matter?" he asked swiftly. "Certainly, I understand about it. What's that. Oh, Winch.e.l.l told you to call up if you learned anything. Of course; what is it? Yes, I hear; just found her tied up at north side of Munic.i.p.al Pier. What's the trouble? Engine working bad, and had to come in, hey? All right--thanks; I'll go straight over and see them."

This was great luck, yet there was very little he could hope to accomplish alone, without the help and authority of McAdams. Even if the vessel had been stolen--which was probably not true--he possessed no power of arrest. All he could hope to do would be to keep the fellows in sight until Mac showed up, and, if possible, prevent them from putting out into the lake again. Even in that he needs must be cautious not to be seen by any of the gang who might recognize him. An alarm, proving they were being followed, would doubtless send them scattering instantly. If they were to be trapped, no suspicion could be aroused.

West thought of all these things as a taxi bore him across the city to the pier, and acted accordingly. The open air restaurant accorded him every reasonable opportunity for concealment, while affording ample view of whatever was going on. It was a bright, sunshiny day, the waters of the lake a deep blue. No crowd was present, yet enough people were at the tables, or lounging about the pier, to make his presence unnoticeable.

The pleasure boat for Lincoln Park, a band aboard, and with a barker industriously busy, was close by, surrounded by a bevy of women and children. Beyond these, on the same side, snuggled close against the cement wall, lay the yacht. West ordered a drink, and sat down at a table within easy view, although partially concealed himself by a pillar supporting the roof.

The _Seminole_ was a much larger boat than he had antic.i.p.ated seeing, yet he could not doubt her being the vessel sought. The name was plainly stencilled on the bow, as well as upon the dingy towing astern. Her deck lay almost even with the promenade, and he was able to trace her lines clearly from where he sat. The craft had evidently been constructed for comfort as well as speed. He noted two short masts unrigged, a bridge forward of the wheel-house, together with a decidedly commodious cabin aft. The deck s.p.a.ce between was clear, except for the hatchway leading down to the engine. The planking was clean, as though newly scrubbed, while every handrail glistened in the sun. The cabin appeared tightly closed, even the windows being heavily draped. Some mechanics were evidently working below; there was a sound of hammering, and occasionally a fellow in overalls appeared at the hatch opening. No one wearing any semblance of a yacht uniform was visible, although four or five men lounged about the deck, or close at hand on the pier, apparently connected with the vessel. Two were well-dressed, rather gentlemanly appearing fellows, the others of a decidedly rougher cla.s.s, although bearing no outward marks of being sea-men. While an air of carelessness was a.s.sumed by all these, yet West, watching them closely, felt that they were very much on their guard, anxiously waiting an opportunity to depart. No face among the party had any familiarity; he had encountered none of them at Mike's Place the evening before. Satisfied as to this, he left the table, and strolled out on to the promenade, joining the crowd watching the Lincoln Park boat get underway. So far as he could observe this movement attracted no attention, although a moment later his eyes plainly caught a bit of drapery drawn slightly aside at one of the cabin windows of the _Seminole_, and, he felt convinced, the quick gesture of a woman's hand.

There was a woman on board then! This certainty of knowledge by evidence of his own eyes, set his blood leaping. Whatever the purposes of these people he was again upon the right trail. The uplifted curtain was immediately lowered, and, if any signal had thus been conveyed, there was no other evidence visible. A little later one of the two better dressed fellows loafing on the pier, a rather heavily built man, with closely clipped red moustache, and a scar over one eye, slowly crossed the deck, and entered the cabin. He came forth again a moment later, asked some question of the workmen below and then clambered back carelessly over the rail, joining his companion on the pier.

"A half hour yet; it was quite a job the boy's had, but they are making time. Come over here a minute."

They walked forward, out of earshot from where West sat on a bench in the sun. He watched the fellows closely, yet without neglecting the boat, but they neither glanced toward him, or seemed aware of his existence.

Convinced that they felt no suspicion, but were merely exercising ordinary precaution not to be overheard, the watcher soon banished all fear of them from his mind. His whole thought centred on the early arrival of McAdams. Until the detective came, there was nothing he could do but sit there quietly and wait. But what if the necessary repairs were completed, and the _Seminole_ sailed before Mac got there? The fellow called Joe had mentioned half an hour, and he probably meant that was the time set by the mechanics for completing their job on the engine. Beyond doubt, the intention was to depart immediately. Was there any means in his power by which this could be prevented? The only suggestion which came to him was the picking of a quarrel in some way, with the two men ash.o.r.e. The boat would never depart unless they were aboard, as they were evidently the leaders of the gang, yet this would be a most desperate expedient, to be resorted to only when all other effort had failed. The two were husky chaps, and he would probably be the one to suffer most in such an encounter. Besides it would put them on their guard, and possibly avail nothing. Why not speak to the fellows pleasantly, and naturally? They had no reason to be suspicious of him; he was but one of many others lounging idly about the pier. His curiosity would seem reasonable enough, and he might thus gain some clue as to their destination. Then, even if they did sail before Mac appeared, they could be safely intercepted in time for a rescue. Indeed, such information, if it could be gained, would give opportunity to plan effective action.

Circ.u.mstances seemed to work to this end, the two men strolling carelessly back toward where he sat, pausing within a few feet of him, all their attention apparently riveted upon the yacht.

"Had some hard luck?" he ventured. "Engine give out?"

The red-moustached one glanced about, his eyes surveying the speaker indifferently.

"Broke a piston, and had to be towed in," he replied carelessly, "We'll be off again presently."

"Nice day for a sail."

"Sure is."

The very indifference of the fellow led West to take a chance.

"Some nice boat you've got there. The Coolidge yacht, isn't it? Haven't seen it out lately."

"Are you a yachtsman?"

"A bit of an amateur, yes; have a cat-boat I play with some. Belong to the Columbia Club."

"Off Grant Park; this boat quarters in the Jackson lagoon. We left there last night. You knew Coolidge?"

"No, never met him; recognized the boat though. Has it been sold?"

"Not yet. It wasn't his anyway; belonged to the estate. I'm one of the trustees; that's how I've got the use of it--see? Ever looked it over?"

West shook his head.

"No, but I wouldn't mind; she's a dandy."

"She sure is; better inside than out to my notion. Come aboard; we've got time enough. Not thinking of buying a yacht, are you?"

"Well, I might, if the price is not too steep. I've got the fever all right; what I lack maybe, is money. It costs a lot to run a yacht."

"Oh, I don't know. We operate this with three men as a crew. That's not so bad. Come along with us, Mark; we'll take a look at the cabin first, and then go forward."

The three men stepped over the low rail, and moved aft across the deck, the leader talking fluently, and pointing out various things of interest.

His only object apparently was to arouse in West a desire to purchase.

The other man never spoke, and the latter gave no thought to his presence. He had been rarely fortunate so far, and was looking for an opportunity to question his guide on the purpose of their voyage. He would wait until later; until the examination had been completed, perhaps, when they believed him a possible purchaser. Joe opened the cabin door, and West stepped inside, the interior darkened by drawn curtains. The dusk was confusing, and he stood still after the first step, hearing the latch click behind him.

CHAPTER XXII

KIDNAPPED

A hand gripped his shoulder as though in a vise, and swung him around; the muzzle of an automatic confronted him, and behind it the threatening eyes of Joe glared directly into his own.

"Not a move, you d.a.m.ned spy," a voice said coldly. "Now, Mark, frisk the cuss, and be lively about it. Had a gun, hey; I thought so. Give it to me. Now get the cord over there and give him a turn or two. A very good job, old boy; the fellow is safe enough, I should say."

He turned his eyes away, searching the cabin, confident that West was sufficiently secured.

"Come on out, Mary," he said sharply. "Who is this guy, anyhow?"

A woman came forward through the shadows. West had a glimpse of her face, but the features were unfamiliar. A woman of forty, perhaps, still attractive in appearance, with dark hair and bold black eyes that met his own defiantly. He was puzzled, doubtful as to what it all meant. So this was the woman he had seen on board; not Natalie Coolidge at all.

There had been a mistake of some kind; but if so, why had these people given him this sort of reception aboard? These thoughts swept his mind in a flash, as the woman peered forward to see his features more clearly.

For a moment she said nothing, and Joe broke out impatiently.

"He's the lad, ain't he?" he asked. "We ain't gone an' picked up the wrong guy?"

"No; he's the bird all right. I never lamped him but once before myself.

I heard his name then, but forgot it. He's her friend, there ain't no doubt o' that, Joe, and it ain't likely he's hanging around here just for fun, is it? My idea was it would be safer to take him in."

"Sure; what's yer name, young fellow?"

Concealment was useless; they evidently had him correctly spotted; to lie would do no good.

"Matthew West."

"That's the name," the woman exclaimed eagerly. "He is a soldier--a Captain, or something like that. Jim told me about him; he's the same fellow who was snooping about Mike's Place last night, before we pulled out."

"Is that so? How the h.e.l.l did you get out of there?"

"We had a little trouble," West admitted, "but they let me go."

"Yes, they did! I know better than that; Hobart don't do business that way. I reckon we've played his game all right taking you in.

Well, you don't get out of here so easy, let me tell you. How'd you come to get onto us?"

"That's my business."

"Oh, is it? Well, we'll make it ours from now on. There is one thing pretty sure--you were here playing a lone hand. So it don't make much difference what yer idea was. We'll take the bird along with us, Mary; then he'll be out of temptation."