The Missing Chums/Chapter 7
CHAPTER VII
Wreckage
"Good night! We'll be lucky if we get away on the trip at all!" exclaimed Frank, as he and Joe hastened down the stairs.
Mrs. Hardy was already at the front door welcoming Aunt Gertrude, who was expatiating on the wickedness of taxi drivers in general.
"So!" she ejaculated, as the boys appeared. "Standing up at a front window laughing at your great-aunt instead of coming down and helping carry up her bags like little gentlemen! I'm surprised at you!"
"We were just getting dressed, Aunt Gertrude," explained Frank meekly.
"Getting dressed, eh!" snorted Aunt Gertrude, taking in their attire. "Getting dressed! What kind of an outfit do you call that?" She poked Joe in the ribs with her umbrella, indicating the faded khaki shirt he was wearing "Speak up, boy! What kind of an outfit is that? No necktie. Holes in your trousers. Shoes not shined."
"We were just getting ready to go on a boat trip, Aunt Gertrude," Joe explained.
"Boat trip! Boat trip! No! That settles it!" declared Aunt Gertrude, coming into the house and banging the umbrella decisively on the floor by way of emphasis. "I shan't allow it. The very idea! Laura," she said, turning to Mrs. Hardy, "I'm surprised at you. Ab-so-lute-ly astonished! The very idea of letting these children go out in a boat! Don't you remember what happened to my Cousin Peter? He went out in a boat, didn't he? And what happened? The boat upset. He might have been drowned if the water had been deep enough. Thank goodness he was only a few feet from shore. But it only goes to show what can happen. If these boys go out in a boat they'll be drowned. I can't permit them to be drowned. They shan't go on any boat trip. That settles it!" She strode into the living room. "Boys—bring in my bags!" she commanded.
Mrs. Hardy smiled, for she was quite accustomed to the eccentricities of Aunt Gertrude, and the Hardy boys scuttled down the front steps for the baggage.
"Do you think she means it?" whispered Joe.
"Sure, she means it. But we'll get out somehow. She'll rave for a while, but she'll forget all about it when she starts to show mother how to run the house."
The boys deposited Aunt Gertrude's luggage in the guest room, then went downstairs for inspection. By this time the old lady had taken off her coat and hat and was seated in the most comfortable chair, fanning herself with a newspaper.
"Boat trip!" she was snorting, as they entered the room. "Never heard of such a thing. Letting little boys like that go out in a boat alone. If they were my boys I wouldn't let them out of my sight. Up to some mischief, I'll be bound."
"They are going out to look for two chums of theirs who have been lost for three days," Mrs. Hardy explained.
"And serve them right! I suppose they were out on a boat trip, too. I knew it! And now they're lost. That's what happens when you let children go out in boats. They get lost. Or drowned. And now you would let these two youngsters go out in a boat, too. And I suppose in a few days some of their chums would have to go out in a boat to look for them. They'd get lost, too. And then some more little boys would go out to look for them. And they'd get lost. By the end of the summer there wouldn't be a boy left in Bayport. Not that it would be much of a loss," sniffed Aunt Gertrude; "but I hate to see people making fools of themselves."
"Did you have a pleasant journey?" asked Mrs. Hardy, anxious to change the subject.
"Did I ever have a pleasant journey?" countered Aunt Gertrude. "What with the rudeness of conductors and ticket-sellers and baggage-men and taxi drivers there's no enjoyment in traveling nowadays. But I put 'em in their place. I know my rights and I insist on them!"
She glared ferociously about the room as though confronting a multitude of conductors, baggage-men and taxi drivers awaiting judgment.
"Now, boys! what are you staring at? Don't you know it's rude to be staring at people? Run away and play. I want to talk to your mother. Run away and play! Shoo!" She brandished the umbrella at them and the Hardy boys left the room precipitately. Their mother excused herself for a moment and followed them into the hall.
"Run!" she said, smiling. "I'll take care of Aunt Gertrude. Run along while you have the chance."
They kissed their mother good-bye and hastily departed, wondering how she was to explain their flight to the terrible Aunt Gertrude, in view of that lady's melancholy predictions concerning their fate should they venture out in the boat.
They found Slim Robinson waiting for them at the boathouse, and with many chuckles the boys told him of their escape from the tyrant who would have prevented their departure.
"We'd better hurry or she'll be down here after us if she finds we've got away from her," declared Joe.
"Tony and the other fellows are over in the other boathouse," Slim told them. "I think they're ready now."
"All right. Let's be going."
Frank started the engine of the Sleuth and the motorboat moved slowly out into the open bay. He steered a course for the entrance to Prito's boathouse, where Tony and the others were waiting. As soon as Tony saw him he started his own craft, and the Napoli nosed its way out abreast of them.
"All set?" shouted Frank.
"All set."
"Away we go."
The two boats drummed their way out into Barmet Bay and headed out toward the sea, side by side, picking up speed when they had threaded their way through the shipping near the docks.
It was evening before they reached the first village on the coast, after leaving the bay, and although they made numerous inquiries they failed to find any trace of their chums. No one in the village had seen or heard a motorboat during the storm, although they readily admitted that the craft might have passed without being noticed, owing to the gloom and the violence of the gale. The chums spent the night at this village and resumed their journey the next morning, going farther up the coast.
Their progress was necessarily slow because there were numerous small villages and they stopped at them all to make inquiries.
But in every case the answer was the same.
No motorboat answering to the description of the Envoy had been seen. None of the fishermen had heard of the craft.
"It's ten chances to one that they was wrecked in that storm," an old fisherman at one of the villages declared when they told him their story. "Unless they were mighty lucky they wouldn't get past Ragged Reef. They might get this far up the coast, but they'd never get past the Reef."
"Where is that?"
"Not far from here. Up past the next point. Seems to me I heard one of the boys sayin' this mornin' that there was some wreckage on the reef yesterday. There's none of our boats missin' from hereabouts, so mebby it's them young fellers."
The two motorboats thereupon started for Ragged Reef. The lads were downhearted. They had little hope that they would ever find their two companions alive. The words of the old fisherman struck terror into their hearts.
When they rounded the point they saw the black and ominous line of Ragged Reef before them. A jagged and irregular series of rocks jutting above the surface of the water in the form of a huge semicircle—this was the reef on which the Envoy might have come to grief.
Fortunately, the day was calm so that the searchers were able to venture more closely to the reef than they might have otherwise dared. Frank edged the Sleuth in toward the rocks as closely as possible. Suddenly he gave an exclamation:
"The fisherman was right! There is wreckage there!"
He pointed to a few broken fragments of wood that could be discerned against the rocks. Joe picked up the marine glasses and peered at the fragments for some time.
"It's wreckage of a boat of some kind," he declared gravely, lowering the glasses at last. "But whether it's from the Envoy or not, I couldn't say."
Slim also looked through the glasses. He was able to see more fragments of wreckage farther along the reef.
"Some boat has been battered to pieces along here. There isn't enough wreckage left to tell whether it was a motorboat or a sailing vessel." He scrutinized the mainland. "Nothing there," he announced finally. "Not a sign of life—nor wreckage either. It's all on the reef."
So interested had the boys been in the fragments of broken wood on the jagged rocks that they had not noticed that the motorboat was edging in closer to the reef. There was a strong current at this point and, unnoticed by the boys, the boat was being carried irresistibly forward.
A warning shout from the lads in the Napoli told them of their danger.
Frank had throttled down the engine so that the Sleuth had been almost drifting. Now he sprang for the helm, conscious of the peril that had crept so insidiously upon them.
The great black rocks of the reef loomed closer. The motorboat seemed to be dragged mercilessly toward its doom. The powerful current had the craft firmly in its grasp!