H. Irving Hancock

“ Gaston Giddings now leaned against Tom's shoulder, sleeping the sleep of drugged stupefaction.
"How on earth did you find him so soon?" questioned Joseph Baldwin, leaning forward when the cab had gone beyond the confines of Chinatown. Tom told the whole story, simply and modestly.
"Young man," uttered Jason Ross, solemnly, "I don't believe you have any idea, yet, of how huge a risk you ran yourself into. The Chinese criminal is desperate at all times, but ten-fold more so when he's on his own ground, surrounded only by his own crowd." ”

“ Joseph Baldwin paused in his rapid speech. He looked sharply at Mr. Ross an instant, then continued:
"Oh, well, Frank Delavan told me I could trust you and Dawson with anything from my yacht to my reputation. You understand that what I'm telling you, Captain, is absolutely confidential?"
"Of course, sir," responded Tom, quietly.
"Well, then, within the last three months young Giddings has, in some way we can't understand, fallen a victim to the opium habit. The young man is all but totally wrecked by the vile drug. How, or why, he started, none of us can understand. ”

“ Jephson called the cabin party over to the port rail to watch the "Victor." The instant the last of his companions had gone forward, and had passed around the pilot house, Giddings, after a swift look about him, stole into the dining saloon.
Tom Halstead, ostensibly lounging behind one of the life-boats, saw this move.
"Now, what's he up to?" muttered Tom. "Mischief, judging by his queer antics. We've mischief enough to deal with, without having it take place right on board our own boat!" ”

“ Nearly abeam, and some three hundred yards off to starboard, that new sound came—a fog-horn identical with the "Victor's."
[Pg 193]
"What on earth is the trick, now?" wondered Joe Dawson.
"I'd be willing to give a day's pay to guess it all at once," responded the young skipper.
"Too-whoo-oo!" sounded the "Panther's" fog-horn. "Too-whoo-oo!" came the answer, from port, presumably from the "Victor's" fog-horn. "Too-whoo-oo!" came like an echo from starboard.
"It sounds like the first move in a game to mix us up," muttered Tom Halstead, shrewdly.
"But what craft can be off at starboard?" ”

“ A moment's breathlessness, then "Victor—San Francisco" stood out boldly before the eyes [Pg 227] of the people in the launch as that boat shot in by the yacht's stern.
They were taking grave chances, now, of being swamped at the very door of success. None knew this better than Tom Halstead and Joe Dawson as they jointly manœuvred to run the tender up stealthily, while Jed Prentiss, trembling inwardly, kept his hand on the lever, ready to obey the slightest signal for speed.
Then, swiftly, Tom Halstead, a rifle strapped over his back, rose in the bow. ”

“ Tom replied, thoughtfully. "I have already been considering that."
"It seems hard to be beaten," sighed Joseph Baldwin. "It is hard, even, not to find ourselves racing right up on the 'Victor.'"
"We haven't been beaten yet, sir," smiled Halstead. "Nor are we beaten as long as we have the other boat in sight."
As Baldwin turned and stepped over to the rail, he saw Skipper Tom moving away. ”

“ Giddings," smiled Halstead, "though I hope I shall never have a chance to render the same service again."
"I hope not," sighed the young man. Though Tom did not stare impertinently, he looked into the young man's face long enough to note the lifelessness depicted there, and the weakness of the mouth.
"It seems queer to think of such a young fellow, and such a pulseless piece of putty, being president of a great bank," thought Tom to himself. ”

“ A cheer went up from the deck of the "Panther." There was no answer from the pursued craft.
Running up to the bridge, and snatching up a megaphone, Joseph Baldwin bawled lustily:
"We're still with you, you pirates! You can't shake us!"
Still no sound of human voice came from the steam yacht. The answer was of another sort. Great clouds of smoke began to pour from the "Victor's" funnel.
[Pg 158]
"They're going to try a spurt," chuckled Halstead, gleefully. "Well, let 'em. We don't even have to get up more steam for a spurt. All we have to do is to feed in the gasoline quicker." ”

“ Captain Tom Halstead and Third Officer Costigan had that place to themselves.
"Throw the wheel over three points to the starboard! Hold to a course three points off the present one," called Halstead, sharply.
"You men answer with your revolvers," was Mr. Jephson's order.
"Our revolvers wouldn't carry that far, sir," objected one of the deputy marshals.
"I know it, but let those scoundrels discover that we have firearms too," retorted the district attorney's assistant.
So the futile revolver shots flashed out. In answer a rifle bullet carried away the hat of one of the deputies. ”

“ Though not a weapon showed, as yet, each of the four Chinese behind the proprietor stood with his hands thrust up into his sleeves. A Chinaman always carries his weapons up his sleeves, whence he can bring them down, into action, with incredible rapidity.
"Now, don't think you've got me frightened," uttered Tom Halstead, sturdily, gazing undauntedly at the Chinese. "There isn't any scare in me when I'm dealing with people like you. If you make one single false move you'll be the ones who'll be sorry for it. ”

“ He's a good pilot, too. Another good thing about Costigan is that he's loyal, and a man who knows how to keep his tongue resting in the back of his mouth.
"Besides Costigan, there are three quartermasters and seven men in the crew. We have also a cook and helper, a cabin steward and a men's steward. That's the whole outfit. We have no one, at present, in the engine-room department. You have men with you to fill out those positions, haven't you, Captain?"
"Yes, sir." ”

“ Within two minutes both officers were sure they heard a fog-horn.
"But it's the fog-horn of a sailing vessel," muttered Tom, disappointedly.
"Coming this way, too, sir," replied Mr. Costigan.
"The people on the 'Victor' wouldn't hesitate to use a sailing vessel's signals in order to fool us," muttered Halstead.
"Shall I pass well to starboard of the sailing craft, sir?" asked the third officer.
"No; get in her path. When we're near enough, signal that we want to speak the other vessel," Halstead answered. ”

“ Not even the name of Baldwin's craft was known to the seafaring boys who were crossing the continent.
"I wonder if Mr. Baldwin will be at Oakland, to meet us?" asked Joe, as the train sped evenly, swiftly along.
"It isn't likely," replied Tom. "He has told us where to report. I fancy he considers that enough."
"A man might get a boat's crew together a [Pg 13] good deal more cheaply," mused Joe, aloud. "Our fellows that Mr. Baldwin has engaged are all top-notchers in the way of salary. With such a crew it's going to cost our man a good deal to keep his boat running." ”

“ The young skipper himself, from the bridge, rang the engine room bell for half speed ahead, quickly changing this to full speed.
"Are you in the engine room, Joe Dawson?" called Skipper Tom, through the speaking tube.
"Right on hand!" came the answer.
"Then whoop up the speed for all you're worth. Let's have it all—every bit. We're on the chase of our lives!"
Captain Tom Halstead was still on the bridge when the Golden Gate was left behind. He was still there, more than two hours later, when the upper spars of a vessel believed to be the "Victor" were made out on the far southwestern horizon. ”

“ Then he turned to leave the bridge.
"I'm going to my cabin now, Mr. Davis, to turn in on my sofa for a while. If I am needed for anything at all, don't hesitate to call me instantly."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Dick replied.
Barely two hours had the young skipper slept when the sharp, jarring tones of the vibrating electric bell from the bridge rang over his head. Tom was up in an instant, pulling on his shoes. As he reached for his deck ulster and cap there came from overhead a note that told him at once why he was wanted.
Too-whoo-oo-oo!
"Fog!" gasped the young yacht captain. ”

“ Ab Perkins had already swiftly caught up a coil of rope, which he deftly poised for a clean throw.
"We stop for nothing—mark that!" called First Officer Perkins, firmly. "Catch this rope, or we've got to leave you behind!"
The yawl was drifting by, and barely thirty feet from the motor yacht's hull, when Ab made the throw. He was a master at such feats. The coil unspread as it went whirling through the air, and a length lay across the yawl. ”

“ Tom Halstead, however, gave the fellow little further thought. He was too happy over the lifting of the fog. It is possible for two craft of the size of these to run all day within two hundred yards of each other through a fog, judging each other's positions only by sounds. The slow speed of fog-time makes this possible. Yet it requires splendidly expert seamanship on both craft. The ordeal is bound to be wearing on the deck and watch officers. Tom and his three mates felt utterly tired after their experience, but the passing out of the belt of the fog had brought huge relief to them. ”

“ Tom whispered to Jephson. Then, from away off to port sounded the tolling bell of a sailing vessel. Both appeared to be headed toward the "Panther" launch.
"They seem to be about half a mile apart," Halstead whispered. "The 'Victor,' I think, will pass between the two craft. While that deep whistle and solemn bell are going the people on the steam yacht are not so likely to hear us. Pass the word to Mr. Prentiss to increase speed a little, if he can do so without making more noise at the exhaust." ”

“ The guide, a thin, undersized, slovenly man in his early thirties, turned to look the motor boat boy over keenly.
Tom noticed that the fellow's eyes had a look in them much like the look in the eyes of several of the smokers they had just seen.
[Pg 65]
"This fellow is an opium-user himself," decided Tom Halstead.
"Say, young feller," remarked the guide, in a cautious undertone, "you're looking for someone."
"Perhaps I am," the young skipper half admitted.
"Who is he?"
"No matter. But do you know any of the men who come here to Chinatown often to use the pipe?" ”

“ The young first officer's first thought, on seeing the yawl sweep into view, was that a trick had been attempted by the enemy, for the "Victor" had recently slipped ahead. But Ab's first glimpse at the stern of the yawl showed the name, painted in goodly black letters, "S. S. Dolbear." In the bottom of the yawl lay two life preservers bearing the same name.
"How on earth do you come to be away out here at sea, in a small boat?" demanded Ab of the stranger.
"I was a freight clerk aboard the liner 'Dolbear,' bound from Auckland, New Zealand, to San Francisco," replied the rescued one. ”

“ Tom Halstead remained silent, but attentive.
"Now, at the last moment," pursued Mr. Baldwin, "we hear that Giddings was seen in a closed carriage, evidently headed for Chinatown, that vile Oriental section of San Francisco, where the opium vice flourishes at its worst. And in Chinatown a man can disappear so completely that his friends can't find him again in years. Giddings was to be here to-night, but he's in a Chinatown opium den instead. If we appeal to the police, it'll all be in the newspapers. ”

“ Baldwin and Ross to alight.
"Shall I find you in that restaurant, sir?" the young skipper inquired.
"Yes; but don't be too long away, Halstead, or we shall be more uneasy than ever."
"Trust a sailor to take care of himself in any crowd, sir," laughed Tom Halstead, jauntily. With that he stepped off, at a more rolling gait than he usually employed on shore.
The young motor boat captain carried in his mind a good personal description of Gaston Giddings. He had secured this from Mr. Baldwin before leaving the yacht. ”

“ Ross.
"Ted Dyer, the last castaway we picked up out of the ocean," responded Captain Halstead.
"What on earth can he find to be so joyous——"
"Whoo-oop!" interrupted Ted himself, appearing on deck at that instant. His eyes were snapping with excitement, his face fairly glowing with delight.
"Say, do you know what's down in the forehold, sir?" he demanded, facing Captain Tom Halstead.
"No; and how do you?" broke in Joseph Baldwin, interrupting.
"Quartermaster Bickson set me to tidying up there," explained Ted. ”

“ February! Think of the deep feet of snow on either bank of the Kennebec just now!"
"It's the land of roses and other posies, all right," agreed Halstead, himself looking out with a good deal of interest at the bright scene under the soft haze of the California winter day.
"Say, these are real days! ”