Chapter 10 JAKE HOOVER'S CAPTURE

"You're a fine lot," declared Jake, something about Trenwith's manner seeming to steady him so that he could talk intelligibly. "You tell me I won't get into any trouble if I come here, and then I find it's a trap!"

"No one told you anything of the sort, my lad," said Trenwith, sharply. "You promised to go to Mr. Jamieson and tell him what you knew. No one made you any promises at all, except that you were told you wouldn't have any reason to regret doing it."

Jake looked at Eleanor balefully.

"She's too sharp, that's what she is," he complained bitterly. "I might ha' known she was playing a trick on me-gettin' me to stay here and eat a fine supper. I suppose she went and sent word to you while I was doing it."

"Of course I did, Jake," said Eleanor quietly. "I telephoned to Mr. Trenwith even before you had your supper because I knew that if I didn't do something to keep you here with us, you'd run away again. But I did it as much for your sake as for Bessie's."

"Yes, you did-not!" said Jake. "Why shouldn't you let me go now, then, if that is so?"

"Listen to me, my buck," said Trenwith, sternly. "You're not going to do yourself any good by getting fresh to this lady, I can tell you that. You're pretty well scared, aren't you? You told her that you were afraid of what Holmes would do to you?"

But Jake, alarmed by Trenwith's mention of the name of the man he feared, shut his lips obstinately, and wouldn't say a word in answer. Trenwith smiled cheerfully.

"Oh, you needn't talk now, unless you want to," he said. "I know all you could tell me about that, anyhow. You've been up to some mischief, and they've kept on telling you that if you didn't behave yourself they'd give you away."

Jake's hangdog look showed that to be true, although he still maintained his obstinate silence.

"Well, I happen to be charged with enforcing the law around here, and it's my duty to see that criminals are brought to justice. I don't know just what you've done, but I'll find out, and I'll see that you are turned over to the proper authorities-unless you can do something that will make it worth while to let you off. So, you see, you've got just as much reason to be afraid of us as of the gang you've been training with.

"They won't be able to help you now, either, even if they should want to-and I don't believe they want to, when it comes to that, I've always found that crooks will desert their best friends if it seems to them that they'll get something out of doing it. So if you're trusting to them to get you out of this scrape, you're making a big mistake."

"You'd better listen to what Mr. Trenwith says, Jake," said Eleanor. "You think I've led you into a trap here. Well, I have, in a way. You'll have to go to jail for a little while, anyhow. But you're safer there than you would be if you were free. We're all willing to be your friends, for your father's sake. If we can, we'll get you out of this trouble you are in. But you will have to help us. Think it over."

"What's the use?" said Jake, sullenly. "I ain't got nothin' to tell you, because I don't know nothin'. An' if I did-"

"You'd better take him along, Jones," said Trenwith to the policeman. "It's quite evident that we'll get nothing out of him to-night. And I don't see any use wasting time on him while he's in this frame of mind."

And so Jake, whining and protesting, was taken away. As soon as he was out of sight and hearing Trenwith's manner changed.

"By George," he said, excitedly, "that's a good piece of work! There's something mighty interesting coming off here pretty soon. I'm not at liberty to tell you what it is yet, but I had a long talk on the telephone with Charlie just before you called me, Eleanor, and there are going to be ructions!"

"Oh, I suppose we mustn't ask you to tell us, if you've promised not to do it," said Eleanor, "but I do wish we knew!"

She didn't seem to notice that he had called her by her first name-a privilege that was not accorded, as a rule, to those who had no more of an acquaintance with her than Billy Trenwith. But he had done it so naturally, and with so little thought, that she could hardly have resented it, anyway. But Dolly noticed it, and nudged Bessie mischievously.

"Then you really think we're going to find something out from Jake, Mr. Trenwith?" asked Dolly.

"We'll find a way to make him talk, never fear," said Trenwith. "The boy's a natural born coward. He'll do anything to save his own skin if he finds he's in real trouble and that the others of his gang can't help him. I don't think he's naturally bad or vicious-I think he's just weak. He was spoiled by his mother, wasn't he? He acts the way a good many boys do who have been treated that way. He's not got enough strength of character to keep him from taking the easiest path. If a thing seems safe, he's willing to do it to avoid trouble."

"You know there's just one thing that occurs to me," said Eleanor, looking worried. "Jake may have come here with some vague idea of telling us what he knew. But suppose he has seen Holmes or some of the others since Bessie got him to promise to go to Charlie Jamieson in the city?"

"I hoped you wouldn't think of that," said Trenwith, gravely. "I thought of it, too. You mean he might have been here just as a spy, with no idea of showing himself at all?"

"The way he acted makes it look as if that was just why he was here, too," said Dolly. "He was sneaking around, and he certainly didn't seem very pleased when Bessie found him."

"He did his best to squirm away," said Bessie. "If Zara hadn't been so nervous while we were eating supper I would never have thought of going after him, either. But she seems to be able to see things and hear things, in some queer fashion, when no one else can."

"That's a good thing for the rest of us," said Trenwith with a smile. "She's a useful person to have around at a time like this. I'm going to have a couple of my men-detectives-stay around here to-night to keep an eye on things. It's likely, of course, that there's nothing to be afraid of, but just the same, we don't want to take any chances."

"I'm glad you've done that," said Eleanor. "I don't think I'm the ordinary type of timid woman, but I must confess that all these things worry me, and I'll feel a lot safer if I know that we are not entirely at the mercy of any trick they try to play on us to-night. They seem to be getting bolder all the time."

"Well, after all you know, that's one of the most hopeful things about the whole business. It means that they're getting desperate-that their time is getting short. They feel that if they don't succeed soon they never will, because it will be too late. All we've got to do is to stand them off a little longer, and the whole business will be settled and done with.

"I've got to get back to Bay City to-night. If anything happens, don't hesitate to call me up, no matter what time it is. If I'm out at any time you do have to call me, I'll leave word where I'm going, so that if you tell them at my house who you are, they'll find me. Good-night!"

Neither Dolly nor Bessie slept well that night. Jake's appearance had been disturbing; it seemed to both of them much more likely that his coming heralded some new attempt by Holmes, rather than a desire on his part to confess. But the night passed without anything to rouse them, and in the morning their fears seemed rather foolish, as fears are apt to do when they are examined in the sunlight of a new day.

"I don't see what they can do, after all," said Dolly. "There aren't any woods around here as there were at Long Lake. We're all in sight of the camp and of one another all the time, and they certainly won't be able to work that trick of setting the tents on fire again."

"I guess you're right," said Bessie. "It seems different this morning, somehow. I was worried enough last night but I feel a whole lot better now. I'm glad it's such a beautiful day. The weather makes a lot of difference in the way you feel. It always does with me, I know."

"I'm going out in the sloop after breakfast," said Dolly. "That is, if Miss Eleanor says it's all right. There's a lot more wind than there was yesterday, and we can have some good fun."

"Can I go, too?" asked Bessie. "You were quite right when you told me I'd love the seashore, Dolly. Do you remember how I said I was sorry we were leaving the mountains?"

"Oh, I knew it would fascinate you, just as it does me. So you've given up your love for the mountains?"

"Not a bit of it! I love them as much as ever, but I've found out that the seashore has attractive things about it, too. And I think sailing, the way we did yesterday, is about the nicest of all."

"Then you just wait until we get out there to-day, with a real breeze, and a good sea running. That's going to be something you've never even dreamed of."

They had hearty appetites for breakfast in spite of their restless and disturbed sleep, for the bracing effects of their swim, taken before the meal, more than made up for the lack of proper rest. And after breakfast Dolly asked permission to go out in the sloop, since one of the very few rules of the Camp Fire, and one strictly enforced, had to do with water sports.

None of the girls were ever allowed to go in swimming unless the Guardian was present, and the same rules applied to boating and sailing-with the added restriction that no girl who did not know how to swim well enough to pass certain tests was allowed to go in a boat at all. Moreover, bathing suits had always to be worn when in a boat.

"Indeed you may," said Eleanor, when Dolly asked her question. "And will you take me with you? I'd like to be out on that sea to-day. It looks glorious."

"We'll love to have you along," said Dolly. "How soon may we start?"

"It's eight o'clock," said Eleanor, looking at her watch. "We can start at ten. That will allow plenty of time after eating. Of course, we don't intend to go in the water, but you never can tell-it's squally to-day, and we might be upset. And that's one thing I don't believe in taking chances with. A cramp will make the best swimmer in the world perfectly helpless in the water, and about every case of cramps I ever heard of came from going in the water too soon after a meal."

When they were aboard the Eleanor and scooting through the opening in the bar, Bessie found that the conditions were indeed very different from those of the previous afternoon. The wind had changed and become much heavier, and as the Eleanor went along, she dipped her bow continually, so that the spray rose and drenched all on board. But there was something splendidly exciting and invigorating about it, and she loved every new sensation that came to her.

"Here's the Defiance coming out," said Eleanor, after they had been enjoying the sport for half an hour. "Gladys must like this sort of a breeze, too."

"She does, but she's never had as much of it as I have," said Dolly. "I hope she understands it well enough not to make any mistakes. A boat like this takes a good deal of handling in a heavy breeze, and it seems to me that she's carrying a good deal of sail."

"She seems to be getting along all right, though," said Eleanor, after watching the Defiance for a few minutes. "Why, Dolly, I wonder what she's doing now."

The maneuvres of the Defiance seemed strange enough to prompt Eleanor's question, for, no matter how Dolly tacked, the Defiance followed her, drawing nearer all the time. Since Dolly had no sort of definite purpose in mind, it was plain that Gladys was simply following her. And soon the reason was apparent.

"She's trying to race; she wants to show that she can beat us to-day when there's plenty of wind," said Dolly. "If she wanted to race, why didn't she say so?"

"Well, give her her way, Dolly," said Eleanor. "Keep straight on now for a little while and see if she can beat you. We're just about on even terms now."

And on even terms they stayed. Sometimes one, sometimes the other seemed to gain a little advantage, but it was plain that the boats, as well as the skippers, were very evenly matched. Since there was no agreement to race, Dolly had the choice of courses, and in a spirit of mischief she came about frequently. And every time she changed her course Gladys followed suit.

Although the boats were often within easy hailing distance, Gladys avoided Dolly's eyes, and nothing was said by those on either sloop. They were satisfied with the fun of this impromptu racing. But at last, when they were perhaps a mile from the opening in the bar, and very close together, Eleanor, looking at her watch, saw that it was nearly time for lunch.

"You'd better turn for home now, Dolly," she said. "Suppose I give Gladys a hail and suggest a race to the bar?"

"All right," agreed Dolly.

"Gladys!" Eleanor sent her clear voice across the water, and Gladys answered with a wave of her hands. She seemed in better humor than she had been the day before.

"We're going in now. Want to race to the bar?"

"All right!" called Gladys, in answer, and came about smartly. She had been quick, but Dolly was just as quick, and they were on the most even terms imaginable as the race began.

But Dolly and the Eleanor had one advantage that Gladys was not slow to recognize. The Eleanor had the inside course. In a close finish that would be very likely to spell the difference between victory and defeat, since, to reach the opening, Gladys would either have to get far enough ahead to cross the Eleanor's bows or else to cross behind her, which would entail so much loss of time that Dolly would be certain to bring her craft home a winner. But since the previous racing had shown the Defiance to be just a trifle swifter before the wind, that advantage seemed to be one that Gladys could easily overcome.

Now that she was racing, however, Dolly changed her tactics. Fresh as the wind was, she shook out a reef in her mainsail, and as they neared the bar the Eleanor actually carried more canvas than Gladys dared to keep on the Defiance. Being less used to heavy going than Dolly, she was not so sure of the strength of her sticks, and reckless though she was, she was too wise to be willing to take a chance of being dismasted.

And so the advantage that Gladys had to gain to be able to cross the Eleanor's bows seemed to be impossible for her to attain. The Eleanor did not go ahead, but she held her own, and she had the right of way.

"You're going to beat her again, and fair and square this time," said Eleanor, excitedly. "She won't be able to say a word to this!"

"Look!" said Dolly, suddenly. "She's going to cross me-and she's got no right to do it!" She shouted loudly. "Gladys! Gladys! I'll run you down! Don't do that! I've got the right of way!"

But Gladys kept on with a mocking laugh. Furious at the trick, Dolly put her helm hard over, and the Eleanor came up in the wind.

"That's a mean trick, if you like!" cried Dolly, indignantly. "In a regular race, if she did a thing like that, the other boat would run her down, and would win on a foul. But she knew very well I'd give up the position rather than cause an accident!"

The check to the Eleanor was only for a moment, but it was enough to throw her off her course and make it certain that the Defiance would reach the bar first.

"Never mind, Dolly. You did the right thing," said Eleanor, quietly. "I think she's quite welcome to the race, if she cares enough about winning it to play a trick like that!"

Bessie was up in the bow, looking intently at the Defiance. And now as Gladys came up to get the straight course again, something went wrong. By some mistaken handling of her helm she had lost her proper direction, and to her amazement Bessie saw the boom come over sharply. She saw it, too, strike Gladys on the head-and the next moment the Defiance gybed helplessly, while Gladys was swept overboard.

Bessie did not hesitate a moment. She had seen that blow struck by the boom, and with a cry of warning she plunged overboard as they swept by the helpless Defiance, and with powerful strokes made for the place where Gladys had gone overboard. Gladys had gone straight down, but Bessie had marked the spot, and she dived as she reached it, and met her coming up. She clutched her in a moment, and was on the surface almost at once, holding Gladys, and looking for Dolly and the Eleanor. Dolly would return for her at once, she knew, if she had seen Gladys go over. But, to her amazement the sloop was heading for the bar, sailing away from her fast! Dolly had not seen her and, for a moment, Bessie was badly scared.

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