Guilt of the Brass Thieves by Mildred Augustine Wirt (book series for 12 year olds txt) 📖

her head and went sailing gaily down river. Waves which broke higher and higher, spanked the boat, threatening to overturn it when they struck broadside.

“If we just had an anchor—” Jack murmured but did not finish.

Above the fury of the storm could be heard the faint clatter of a motorboat engine. Straining their eyes, they pierced the wall of rain to see a small speedboat fighting its way upstream.

“A boat!” Penny cried. “Now we’ll be picked up!”

Jack sprang to his feet, waving and shouting. Closer and closer approached the boat, but there was no answering shout from those aboard.

Mr. Parker, Penny and Jack yelled in unison. They thought for a moment that the occupants must have heard their cries and would come to the rescue. But the craft did not change course.

Keeping steadily on, it passed the drifting motorboat well to starboard, and disappeared into the curtain of rain.

CHAPTER
2
THE BRASS LANTERN

The rain dashed into Penny’s face and ran in rivulets down her neck. With a change in the wind direction, the air had become suddenly cold. Shivering, she huddled close to her father for warmth.

Veiled by rain, the shore no longer was visible. Far to the right, the chug of a laboring motorboat was heard for an instant, then died away. It was apparent to Penny that they were drifting downstream quite rapidly.

“Listen!” she cried a moment later.

From upriver had come three sharp blasts of a whistle.

“That’s the River Queen,” muttered Jack, tossing a lock of wet hair out of his eyes. “We must be right in her path.”

“Then maybe we’ll be picked up!” Penny exclaimed hopefully.

Jack gave a snort of disgust. “I’d rather drown than accept help from Sally Barker! Wouldn’t she gloat!”

“Young man,” interposed Mr. Parker with emphasis, “this is no time for false pride. We’re in a predicament and will welcome help from any source.”

“Yes, sir, I guess you’re right,” murmured Jack, completely squelched. “I sure am sorry about getting you into this mess.”

Gazing through the curtain of driving rain, Penny tried to glimpse the River Queen. Suddenly she distinguished its high decks and was dismayed to see that the ferry was bearing at full speed directly toward the drifting motorboat.

Jack leaped to his feet, frantically waving his arms. Realizing the danger of being run down, Mr. Parker likewise sprang up, shouting.

Straight on came the River Queen, her pilot seemingly unaware of the little boat low in the water and directly in the path.

“They don’t see us!” Jack shouted hoarsely. “We’ll be run down!”

The ferryboat now was very close. Its dark hull loomed up. Expecting a splintering crash, Penny struggled to her feet, preparing to jump overboard. But instead, she heard a series of sharp whistle toots, and the ferryboat swerved, missing them by a scant three yards.

“Wow! Was that close!” Jack muttered, collapsing weakly on the seat. Then he straightened up again into alert attention, for the ferry had reduced speed.

“Maybe we’re going to be picked up!” he exclaimed.

The ferryboat indeed had maneuvered so that the current would swing the drifting craft directly toward it.

Five minutes later, wet and bedraggled, the three stranded sailors scrambled up a lowered ladder onto the River Queen’s slippery deck. A few curious passengers who braved the rain, stared curiously at them as they sought shelter.

“Well, if it isn’t Jack Gandiss, and in trouble again!” boomed Captain Barker, owner of the ferry. He was a short, stubby, red-faced man, with twinkling blue eyes. “What happened this time? Engine conk out?”

“We ran out of gas,” the boy admitted briefly. “Thanks for picking us up.”

“Better thank Sally here,” replied the captain, giving orders for the motorboat to be taken in tow. “It was her sharp eyes that picked you up out o’ the storm.”

Penny turned to see a dark-haired girl of her own age standing in the doorway of the pilot house. In oilskin hat and coat, one easily might have mistaken her for a boy. Impatiently she brushed aside a strand of wet hair which straggled from beneath the ugly headgear, and came out on the rain-swept deck.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Jack!” she chortled, enjoying the boy’s discomfiture. “Imagine an old tar like you running out of gas!”

“Never mind the cracks!” he retorted grimly. “Just go back to your knitting!”

Turning her back upon Jack, Sally studied Penny with curious interest.

“Do I know you?” she inquired.

“My father and I are to be guests at the Gandiss home,” Penny explained, volunteering their names. “We were on our way to Shadow Island when we ran out of gas.”

“Let’s not go into all the gory details here,” Jack broke in. “We’re getting wet.”

“You mean you are all wet,” corrected Sally, grinning.

“Sally, take our guests to the cabin,” Captain Barker instructed with high good humor. “I’ll handle the wheel. We’re late on our run now.”

“How about dropping us off at the island?” Jack inquired. “If we had some gasoline—”

“We’ll take care of you on the return trip,” the captain promised. “No time now. We have a hundred passengers to unload at Osage.”

Penny followed Sally along the wet deck to a companionway and down the stairs to the private quarters of the captain and his daughter.

“Osage is a town across the river,” Sally explained briefly. “Pop and I make the run every hour. This is our last trip today, thank Jupiter!”

The cabin was warm and cozy, though cramped in space. Sally gave Mr. Parker one of her father’s warm sweaters to put on over his sodden garments, offered Penny a complete change of outer clothing, and deliberately ignored Jack’s needs.

“You may return the duds later,” she said, leading Penny to an adjoining cabin where she could change her clothes. “How long do you folks expect to stay at Shadow Island?”

“Two weeks probably.” Penny wriggled out of the limp dress.

“Then we’ll have time to get better acquainted. You’ll be here for the trophy race too!” Sally’s dark eyes danced and she added in a very loud voice: “You’ll be around to see Jack get licked!”

“In a pig’s eye!” called Jack through the thin partition of the cabin. “Why, that old sailboat of yours is just a mess of wormwood!”

“It was fast enough to win the brass lantern trophy!” Sally challenged, winking at Penny. In a whisper she explained: “I always get a kick out of tormenting Jack! He’s so cocky and sure of himself! It does him good to be taken down a peg.”

“Tell me about the race,” urged Penny. “It sounds interesting—especially your feud with Jack.”

“Later,” promised Sally carelessly. “Right now I want to get you something warm to drink before we dock at Osage. Here, give me those wet clothes. I’ll dry them for you, and send them to Shadow Island tomorrow.”

Rejoining Jack and Mr. Parker, the captain’s daughter conducted the party to a food bar in the passenger lounge.

“Hot Java,” she instructed the counter man. “And what will you have to go with it? Hamburgers or dogs? This is on the house.”

“Make mine a dog with plenty of mustard,” laughed Penny, enjoying the girl’s breezy slang.

“Nothing for me except coffee,” said Jack stiffly. “I’ll pay for it too.”

Mr. Parker decided upon a hamburger. Food, especially the steaming hot coffee, revived the drooping spirits of the trio. Even Jack thawed slightly in his attitude toward Sally.

Sipping the brew from a thick China mug, Penny’s gaze roved curiously about the lounge. The room was poorly furnished, with an ancient red carpet and wicker chairs. Passengers were absorbed with newspapers, their fretful children, or the River Queen’s supply of ancient magazines.

The lounge however, was scrupulously clean, and every fixture had been polished until it shone like gold. Sam Barker, whose father before him had sailed a river boat, was an able, efficient captain, one of the best and most respected on the waterfront.

Attached to an overhead beam near the food bar, swung an ancient brass lantern. The body was hexagonal in shape, its panes of glass protected by bars of metal. A two-part ornamental turret was covered with a hood from which was attached the suspending ring.

“That lantern came from an old whaling boat nearly a century ago,” Sally explained. “For many years it was kept in the Country Club as a curio. Then two seasons ago, it was offered as a trophy in the annual Hat Island sailboat race held here.”

“I won the lantern the first year,” Jack contributed. He pointed to his name and the date engraved on the trophy’s base.

“The second year, I upset the apple cart by winning,” Sally added with a grin. “The race next week will decide who keeps the lantern permanently.”

“Providing it isn’t stolen first!” Jack cut in pointedly. “Sally, why must you be so stubborn about hanging it here on the River Queen? Every Tom, Dick, and Harry rides this old tub.”

“Don’t call the River Queen a tub,” drawled Sally, her tone warning him he had gone far enough. “And as for our passengers—”

“What I mean,” Jack corrected hastily, “is that you can’t vouch for the honesty of every person who rides this ferry.”

“I’m not in the least worried about the lantern being stolen,” Sally retorted. “I won it fairly enough, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s mine to display as I choose. The racing committee agreed to that. The lantern is chained to a beam and is safe enough.”

“I hope so,” Jack said grimly. “I aim to win it back, and I don’t want to see it do a disappearing act before the day of the race.”

“You won’t,” Sally returned shortly. “I accept full responsibility, so let me do the worrying.”

A signal bell tapped several times, a warning to the passengers that the ferry was approaching shore. As those aboard began to gather up their belongings, Sally buttoned her oilskin coat tightly about her.

“Excuse me for a minute,” she said to Penny and Mr. Parker. “I’ve got to help Pop. See you later.”

CHAPTER
3
A “PROBLEM” BOY

Penny, Jack and Mr. Parker reached the deck of the River Queen in time to see Sally leap nimbly across a wide space to the dock. There she looped a great coil of rope expertly over the post and helped get the gangplank down.

“Step lively!” she urged the passengers pleasantly, but in a voice crisp with authority.

In a space of five minutes, she had helped an old man on crutches, found a child who had become separated from his mother, and refused passage to three young men who sought to make a return trip on the ferry.

“Sorry, this is the end of the line,” she told them firmly. “Our last trip today.”

“Then how about a date?” one of the men teased.

Sally paid not the slightest heed. Raising the gangplank, she signalled for the ferry to pull away.

“Sally always likes to put on a show!” Jack muttered disapprovingly. “To watch her perform, one would think she were the captain!”

“Well, she impresses me as a most capable young lady,” commented Mr. Parker. “After all, we owe our rescue to her and Captain Barker.”

Taking the hint, Jack offered no further disparaging remarks. Rain had ceased to fall, but deep shadows blotted out the river shores. Watching from the railing, Penny saw the island loom up, a dark, compact mass of black.

“The ferry can’t land there?” she inquired in surprise.

Jack shook his head. “Shoals,” he explained briefly. “In the spring during the flood season, the channel is fairly safe. Now—”

He broke off, and turned to stare toward the pilot house. The engines had been stilled and the ferry was drifting in toward the island. Captain Barker stood by his wheel, silent, watchful as a cat.

“By George!” Jack exclaimed admiringly. “The old boy intends to take her in through the shoals. But it’s a risky thing to do.”

“It is necessary?” asked Mr. Parker, deeply concerned. “After all, we’ve already caused the Barkers great inconvenience. Surely there is