The Motor Boys on the Atlantic; or, The Mystery of the Lighthouse

"Oh! It's yo heave ho! and never let go, while the stormy winds do blow! blow! blow!"

"Is that you, Jerry Hopkins?" asked a youth, without looking up from a box he was hammering, in the yard back of his home.

"Aye, aye, my hearty! Shiver my timbers messmate, but we're in for a spell of bad weather!" and Jerry walked up to where Bob Baker was trying to drive a nail straight into a piece of board.

"Why this sudden nautical turn?" asked Bob, aiming a hard blow, in hope of correcting a certain wobbly tendency on the part of the nail. "Is there-Wow! Jimminy crickets!" and Bob began dancing about on one foot, while his thumb was stuck in his mouth.

"What's the matter, Chunky?" asked Jerry, giving Bob the nickname he sometimes was called because of his general fleshiness. "Did you hit your finger?"

"No, I'm doing this for amusement," replied Bob, taking his injured thumb from his mouth and gazing critically at the wounded member. "Um, it's going to swell," he added.

"Put cold water on it," Jerry advised. "That's a good thing. Then wrap it up in arnica."

"Come on into the house," Bob mumbled. "You can tell me the news there, while I'm doctoring up."

"What news?" asked Jerry.

"Why there must be something in the wind when you come around this way, singing sea songs and walking like a sailor on a pitching deck."

"Oh, yes, of course there's some news," Jerry went on. "I forgot about it in the excitement of seeing you do that war dance. Well, it's just as I was singing. It's going to be a life on the ocean wave for me this summer vacation."

"How's that?"

"Mother is going to take a cottage on the Atlantic coast. Maybe I'll not have swell times! I'm going in bathing every day, and I can learn all about a sail boat."

Bob had been so busy looking for the arnica bottle, and a rag in which to wrap his thumb, that he paid little attention to what Jerry was saying, save in a vague sort of way. He caught the last reference to a boat, however, and asked:

"You're not going back on our motor boat, are you, when you say you're going to take up with a sail boat? Jerry I'm ashamed of you!"

"Go back on the dear Dartaway? I guess not much," Jerry answered. "But we can't take her down with us, very well. The cottage is too small."

"I don't know about that," Bob said, in rather muffled tones, for he held one end of a string in his mouth and was wrapping the other about the rag on his thumb. "I wish we were going to the shore. The folks don't know yet what they will do. There, that feels better. When I turn carpenter again you'll know it."

"What were you making?"

"Oh, the cook wanted something to keep the stove blacking in, and I said I'd make it. Glad it's finished though. Maybe she'll give me something to eat before dinner's ready."

"You don't mean to say you're going to eat again, and breakfast not over more than two hours?"

"There you go, poking fun at my appetite as usual," Bob complained.

"Well, it's hard to forget it, since you always seem to have it with you," Jerry commented, referring to Bob's one failing, if it could be so called.

The Baker family's cook entered the dining room at this point and Bob mentioned that the box she had asked for was finished. Then, while the woman was expressing her thanks, Bob added:

"You haven't got any bread and butter and jam you could spare, have you, Mary?"

"Sure there's lots of it," was the answer. "Though it's not long since I cleared off the breakfast things. Will I bring two plates?"

"Have some, Jerry?"

Jerry tried to struggle between wanting some of the good jam he knew would be brought out, and his desire to maintain his attitude against eating so soon after the morning meal. Bob watched him, and laughed.

"Of course you will, Jerry," he said. "Bring two plates, and plenty of jam."

"Seen Ned since last night?" asked Jerry, as he spread the jam on his bread.

"Nope, but he's coming over this afternoon, and we were going out in the boat," replied Bob, hardly pausing between the bites. "Want to come?"

"Speak of trolley cars and you'll hear the gong," remarked Jerry, as he looked out of the window and saw Ned Slade across the street. Ned observed his chums at the same instant and came over.

"At it again, Chunky?" he asked, as he saw the refreshments. "How many meals so far to-day?"

"Help yourself," replied Bob, not bothering to defend his character.

Ned lost little time in following his chums' examples, and Bob, with a laugh, rang the bell to have the cook bring more bread and butter. The jam supply still held out.

"Let me make you acquainted with Willie-off-the-Yacht," said Bob, nodding toward Jerry.

"What's the matter? Has he bought a pair of white duck trousers and a cap?"

"Worse and more of it," Bob answered. "He's going to the seashore for the summer, and learn to run a sail boat."

"That's so, it's about time to think of where I'm going this summer," mused Ned. "I heard the folks say something about the mountains, but I don't know as I care for 'em. Wish we could do as we did last year, and cruise about in the Dartaway."

"Why can't we?" asked Bob, spreading another piece of bread. "Jerry says he's going to the shore, where his mother is hiring a cottage. Maybe I can persuade my folks to let me go down along the coast and board; or perhaps they'd go along. Then if you could come, too, Ned, we could take the Dartaway with us, and run up and down the shore, and have no end of good times. How about it?"

"Sounds good to me," Ned replied. "I guess we could manage it. How could we get the boat down?"

"Have it boxed and shipped, of course," Bob replied. "It traveled a good way over land before it got to us, and I guess it wouldn't cost much."

"Say, that would be sport!" exclaimed Jerry. "There is just the place for a motor boat where mother is going."

"Where's that?" asked Ned.

"Harmon Beach. There's a sort of cove there, where the boats are sheltered from storms. But you can go through the inlet right out to sea, and then up and down the coast. The Dartaway is big enough to stand a bit of bad weather, if it don't come too strong."

"Then let's do it," exclaimed Bob. "I'll speak to my folks right away, and will you fellows do the same? Then we can talk it over again."

"I'm pretty sure dad is going to the Berkshires," Ned answered, "but I don't have to go with the rest of the family. I'll find out as soon as I can. Are there any good boarding houses at Harmon Beach, Jerry?"

"I don't know much about that part of it, but I'll ask mother to take a larger cottage than she counted on and you two boys can come with me."

"Fine!" cried the others. "That will be the best ever," went on Bob. "Here's your hat, Jerry, go home and ask her right away."

"Well, I like your nerve, Bob Baker!" exclaimed Jerry. "Nice way to treat company! Here's your hat, what's your hurry? I'll come again!" and he pretended to get angry.

"Oh, you know I didn't mean it that way!" cried Bob, fearing he had offended his friend. "It's only that we're anxious, you know. I want-"

"Hark! What's that?" cried Ned, running to the window, just as the only ambulance the town of Cresville possessed, went by with the gong clanging.

"Something has happened!" exclaimed Jerry. "See all the people running."

The three boys hurried to the front door. The street was filled with a hurrying and excited throng, every one going in the same direction.

"What's the matter?" asked Bob, of a boy running past the house.

"Railroad collision! Lots killed! Down near the cut crossing!" the lad exclaimed.

"Come on!" Jerry shouted. "Let's go!"

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