on Lake Huron we will be safe enough," he observed to Arnold Baxter. "I know the lake well, and know of half a dozen islands near the Canadian shore where we will be safe in hiding."
"But that boy may telegraph to St. Clair or Port Huron, or some other point, and have the Peacock held up," answered Arnold Baxter.
"We've got to run that risk," was the grim reply. "If we get caught, I'll have an account to settle with Cadmus."
A while later the mate and the sailors who had been with him were called into the cabin, so that Captain Langless might hear what they had to say. The mate told a long story of how the boys had broken open the door leading to the cabin, with a crowbar, obtained from he knew not where, and had fought them with the bar and with a club and a pistol. There had been a fierce struggle, but the lads had slipped away like eels. The sailors corroborated the mate's tale, and added that the boys had fought like demons.
"I'll fix them for that," said Arnold Baxter, when he heard the account. "They'll find out who is master before I get through with them."
But this did not suit Captain Langless, who had not forgotten his talk with the Rovers at the dinner table. If it looked as if he was going to be cornered, he thought that a compromise with Tom and Sam would come in very handy.
"You mustn't mistreat the boys," he said, when Cadmus and the other sailors were gone. "It won't help your plot any, and it will only cause more trouble."
"You seem to be taking the affair out of my hands," growled Arnold Baxter.
"I know I am running a larger risk than you," answered the captain. "I own this craft, and if she is confiscated I'll be the loser."
"But see what I have offered you."
"Yes, if we win out, as the saying goes. But things won't be so nice if we lose, will they?"
"I don't intend to lose. I have a scheme on hand for getting to Lake Huron before to-morrow morning."
"By what means?"
"Hire a large and swift tug to haul the Peacock. We can make splendid time, considering that the schooner is without a cargo."
"Who is going to pay the towing bill?"
"How much will it be?"
"The kind of tug you want will cost about fifty dollars."
"All right then, I'll pay the bill."
The idea pleased the captain, and the bargain was struck then and there.
Half an hour later a tug was sighted and hailed, and the captain told a story of a "rush job" waiting for him at Port Huron. A bargain was struck for the towing, and soon a hawser was cast over to the schooner and the race for Lake Huron began.
CHAPTER XV
WHAT THE LAME MAN KNEW
Dick was not aware that his brothers had been captured until some hours after the sailing of the schooner. He headed for a part of the river where several small craft were moving about, and was just about to climb up the spiling of one of the docks when a lighter hit him and knocked him senseless.
"We've struck a boy!" shouted a man on the lighter, and then rushed forward with a boathook. As soon as he caught sight of Dick he fished the youth from the water and hurried ashore with him.
The shock had not been a heavy one, but the lad was weak from swimming with his clothes on, and he lay like a log on the flooring of the dock. This alarmed the men from the lighter, and they hastily carried him to a nearby drug store and summoned a doctor. From the drug store he was removed to the hospital.
When he was strong enough to go about his business he found it was night. Yet he lost no time in making his way to the docks, on a search for his brothers.
The search was, of course, useless, and much depressed in spirits he found himself, at sunrise, on the waterfront, seated on the stringpiece of one of the long piers.
"They must have either been captured or drowned," he mused dismally. "And the Peacock is gone, too. What shall I do next?"
It was far from an easy question to answer, and he sat motionless for the best part of half an hour, reviewing the situation. Then he leaped up.
"I must get the authorities to aid me," he thought. "I should have done this before."
He walked along the docks until he came to a street leading to the nearest police station. He now realized that he was hungry, but resolved to postpone eating until he had put the authorities on the track of the evildoers.
As he was turning a corner he almost ran into a colored man going in the opposite direction. The colored man stared at him, then let out a wild cry of delight.
"Massah Dick, or is I dreamin'?"
"Aleck, by all that's wonderful! Where did you come from?"
"From de yacht, ob course, Massah Dick But — but — dis knocks dis niggah, suah! I dun fink yo' was on dat udder ship."
"I was on it, but I escaped yesterday, while the schooner lay in the river yonder."
"An' where am Tom and Sam, sah?"
"That I don't know. They left the vessel with me, but we became separated in the water."
"Perhaps da dun been cotched ag'in," and Pop's face took on a sober look.
"That is what I am afraid of."
"Didn't see nuffin ob 'em nowhere?"
"No. I was hit by a lighter and knocked senseless."
"Whar's dat dar Peacock?"
"Gone, too."
"Wot you' spects to do?"
"I was going to inform the authorities. We must find Tom and Sam."
"Dat's right, sah."
"Where is the Swallow?"
"Tied up jest below heah, sah, Dat dar Luke Peterson is a-sailin' ob her wid me."
"Good. Perhaps he can help us in the search. He knows these waters well, so he told me."
Together the pair made their way to the police station, where they told their stories to the officer in charge.
An alarm was at once sent out, and the river police were set to work to learn what had become of the Peacock and her crew.
But all this took time, and it was past noon when word came in that the schooner had been seen moving up Lake St. Clair on the afternoon of the day before.
Then word was telegraphed to Port Huron to stop the craft, and on his own responsibility Dick offered a reward
