Owen Clancy's Happy Trail/Chapter 12

Yes, Clancy dropped the satchel. It was the only thing for him to do, under the circumstances. He had discretion as well as bravery.

Besides, Clancy was facing the companionway and Katz had his back to it. The motor wizard could see something which escaped Katz entirely, and that was the stealthy advance of Gerald Wynn through the companion doors.

Wynn would soon be a factor in the situation. There was nothing he could do which would make the run of events worse than they already were for Clancy.

What had happened showed the folly of putting any trust in a desperado. It was through Clancy's efforts that Katz had been freed from his dangerous predicament in Captain Hogan's bungalow. But Katz did not give any consideration to that when the time came for him to turn the tables and secure the satchel for himself.

Perhaps, all Katz had helped Clancy for was the hope that just such an opportunity would come his way. Now that the opportunity had come, he was making the most of it.

"Katz is doing you dirt, eh?" rumbled the captain, turning his eyes upon Clancy.

"He forgets how I saved him at your bungalow," said the motor wizard.

"If you pulled him out of that scrape, then, keelhaul me, you deserve all he gives you!"

Katz laughed in ugly fashion.

"I'll get back what you and Wynn stole from me!" he remarked, stooping over to pick up the satchel.

As he bent down, two things happened. They happened very suddenly, too:

Clancy and Wynn sprang toward Katz at the same time—Clancy for the satchel and Wynn for the revolver. The work of both was excellent, for each got what he went after.

The approaching boat, by that time, was close alongside. In another moment, Hogan and Wynn would be supplied with reinforcements.

"Give me that!" yelled Katz, jumping toward Clancy.

Here the captain took a part in the combat. Bound though he was, he swung his feet upward suddenly and powerfully. Katz was struck in the side and toppled to the deck.

Four men came bounding over the bulwarks. "Captain!" they called; "where are you, captain?"

"Here!" yelled the captain. "Make prisoners of these two fellows, Katz and Clancy. Katz is on the deck, there, and Clancy"

Clancy was just going over the side and into the water, so it was impossible to make a prisoner of him. He took the valuable satchel along.

"Get back into that boat, two of you," bellowed Hogan, "and snake that red-headed streak of lightning out of the water and back aboard the Sylvia! Look alive, now! A hundred-dollar bonus to the man who captures Clancy and recovers the satchel he's got with him!"

Two of the men flung themselves into the boat and put off. The other two gave their first attention to Bob Katz, and bound him with the rope which was taken from the captain. So Katz, as it will be seen, was left in the hands of his enemies, thereby getting vastly more than he had bargained for.

Meanwhile, the motor wizard was swimming. He was perfectly at home in the water, and, even though he was handicapped with a game shoulder, he found no difficulty in keeping afloat with the satchel, and in spite of the weight of his wet clothes.

"Clancy!" called a voice across the water. "Where are you, Clancy?"

Two boats, at that moment, were searching for the motor wizard. One, of course, held enemies and was coming from the Sylvia, the other, carrying Hill and Burton, was approaching from the pier.

It was Hiram Hill who had hailed. Clancy knew, for he had recognized the voice.

"This way, Hiram!" the motor wizard cried.

Two boats were aimed in Clancy's direction, and two pairs of oars struck the water.

"Crack your back, Burton!" yelled Hill. "If you want to get even with Wynn, now's your chancel Do your prettiest! The two men from the Sylvia are trying to beat us to Clancy—and it's a close race."

Hill could see the dark form in the water, and the black shadow of the other boat rushing toward it. An idea flashed through his mind—an idea as dangerous as it might possibly be successful.

"Starboard oar, Burton!" he whooped. "Hard on the starboard oar!"

Burton's back was to the exciting little scene. He could only obey orders as he heard them. All his strength went suddenly into the starboard oar. The boat began to whirl; and then:

Crash! The bow of the craft swung against the side of the boat from the Sylvia. The Sylvia's men were dumped into the water, but Hill flung himself on the port gunwale of his own boat and kept it from turning turtle.

Burton, hurled from his seat by the force of the collision, picked himself up and took note of the situation Hill had caused. Two life preservers came whizzing from the deck of the Sylvia, and the two men in the water each grabbed one.

"Bully!" yelled Burton, as Hill helped Clancy aboard. "There's the satchel! Clancy brought away the grip with the money! Oh, this is better than I hoped for!"

The motor wizard dropped with a splash into the bottom of the boat. While Hill held up his head and wrung the water out of his red hair, Burton got back on the midship thwart and grabbed the oars.

"Where's Katz, Clancy?" Hill asked.

"He must be on the Sylvia," Clancy answered.

"No use trying to go back after him, is there?"

"Great Scott, no! Hogan and Wynn would get the satchel away from me, if we went back. Anyhow, we're not indebted to Bob Katz for anything. If he hadn't turned on me, at the last moment, and taken the satchel away at the point of a gun, he and I would both have got clear of the Sylvia in the dinghy. Katz is to blame for what happened."

"That's like him!" growled Burton. "He's getting it all around. See what he did to me!"

"He's a pesky varmint!" grunted Hill. "He might 'a' died, there in Hogan's bungalow, if it hadn't been for Clancy. It was almost the same as turnin' on the fellow that saved his life. I ain't got no use for such coyotes."

Clancy sat up on the boat's bottom and looked in the direction of the Sylvia. The yacht's dinghy could be dimly discerned, putting off to the rescue of the two men in the water.

"I'm in luck to be safe out of that mess!" muttered Clancy. "Where were you when those four fellows from the Sylvia came down to the pier?"

"We saw that Hogan and Wynn weren't among them," Hill answered, "and so we didn't interfere. There was a big howl when they couldn't find their dinghy. They managed to get another boat, though, and put off from the pier. A little later we heard the commotion on the Sylvia and thought we'd better get a boat of our own and investigate."

"It's lucky you did," said Clancy. "If you hadn't been close enough to pick me up, I'd now be in the hands of Hogan and Wynn, along with Katz—and Hogan and Wynn would have the money. I guess, taking it by and large, we haven't anything to complain of."

They reached the pier, and made the boat fast to the float from which Hill and Burton had taken it The excitement in the bay had not been heard, and there was no one besides themselves moving about the pier.

Clancy, carrying the water-soaked satchel, slopped and splashed his way to the street, followed by his two companions. On the sidewalk the motor wizard paused for a final word with Burton.

"What are you going to do, now that your two pals have passed you up?" Clancy asked.

"I'll work this diving stunt with Mynie Boltwood," Burton answered, "and see if I can't get together a bit of a stake."

"Come around to the Bolingbroke in the morning, Burton, and ask for me."

"Changed your mind? Think you'll turn me over to the police, after all?"

"Haven't any such idea. I think you could be decent, if you'd give your mind to it. What's the matter with turning over a new leaf and trying to be honest from now on?"

"When I want to hear a sermon," sneered Burton, turning on his heel, "I know where to go."

Without pausing to hear or to say anything further, he passed rapidly down the street, and vanished in the night

"What do you want to see him in the mornin' for?" queried Hill curiously.

"I'd like to grubstake him," answered Clancy.

"You'd—what?"

The motor wizard repeated his words.

"Well, I'm blessed!" murmured Hill. "Why, Hank Burton is one of the three who helped Lafe Wynn nearly ruin you! And now you talk o' grubstakiu' him. That red hair of yours certainly covers a lot of foolish idees."

"Burton is the best of Gerald's old gang, Hiram," said Clancy, as the two walked in the direction of the Bolingbroke House.

"That ain't a-sayin' a heap in his favor."

"He's a whole lot better than Bob Katz."

"Not much in that, nuther. But you won't have no chance to grubstake Burton, Clancy. He won't show up in the mornin'."

They reached the hotel, secured a room, and Clancy at once got out of his wet clothes. He was so tired and sleepy that he dozed off without thinking anything about the water-soaked satchel.

Hill, however, had the satchel on his mind, and took good care of it. When Clancy awoke in the morning, the bright sun was streaming in at the two windows of the room. On the floor in front of the windows Hill had spread two newspapers; and on these newspapers, where the warm sun would strike them, he had spread out the bank notes that had gone into the ocean with Clancy the night before.

It was pleasant work for Hiram, drying all that money. He whistled joyously as he changed the wet bills around, shifting the dryest to the shade and the wettest to the place where they would receive the hottest part of the sun's rays.

"How much is there, all together, Hiram?" Clancy asked.

"You're shy just half of the fifteen thousand, Clancy," was the reply; "there's only seventy-five hundred here—hardly enough to bother with."