Roy J. Snell

“ Heading your boat squarely into the teeth of the storm, you rise and fall, rise and fall like a cork in the center of the Atlantic. You battle. You pray. You hope until hope seems vain.
And then, just as all seems over, the storm passes with one long, whispering sigh.
As the moon came out and the rush of wind passed, the boy and girl looked upon a world of steel-blue waves flecked with foam. And on those waves some distance away there rode a boat. It was a white boat with an orange-colored bottom. A great deal of orange was showing; very little white. The boat was upside down. ”

“ It was Berley Todd.
“Red,” she whispered hoarsely as he came near, “why don’t you try the Flea Flicker?” Then she smiled. It was her first smile that day.
There was something about that smile that lifted the heavy burden from Red’s shoulders.
“The Flea Flicker. Why not?”
He had described the play to her while on one of their wild boat rides before the island.
“The Flea Flicker. Four minutes to play. Why not? Why not forget all but the game? Play for the mere sport of it? Football is sport, not business. The Flea Flicker, that’s it!” ”

“ The canoe shot away.
He beached his canoe among alder bushes, then, pike pole in hand, crept forward. Holding his breath he parted bushes here, crossed a log there, climbed over a moss-covered boulder, then paused to listen. No sound save the rush of water against rocky shores. Boo! How cold it was! How the clouds raced! Going to snow.
“Should be about there,” he told himself, and his pulse pounded.
Ten more steps on the yielding moss, and again he paused. “Just one or two more trees.” A black old spruce stood before him. ”

“ Night has come and a great golden moon paints a patch of silver down the bay. The rippling water seems alive. Every tiny wave bears a tinier craft upon its bosom—the silver schooner of a fairy.
“Listen! From far down the bay comes, wafted on by the breeze, the faintest suggestion of a song. What is it, the whisper of a bird talking to his mate?
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“No. There comes the put-put of a motor, yet even this seems to keep time to the music that, gathering power and sweetness, floats on and on down the bay. A craft appears. All white in the moonlight, it seems as unreal as a fairy’s dream. ”

“ After ten winks caught in the scout’s cozy cabin, Red Rodgers and Berley Todd were up before dawn.
“I don’t think much of the bush wolves as weather prophets,” Red said in a hoarse whisper. He was ever conscious that their lives were in danger. “What a morning! We must get a rowboat and be away for Passage Island.”
“In the light of day?” The girl pressed his arm hard. “They’d see us. Then all would be at an end. But no, perhaps not. There are islands, small islands all in a row that lie half a mile off this main shore. Once behind those, we would be hidden.” ”

“ Drew had driven their boat to the very side of the dock, and was in the act of creeping toward the prow, when he paused to hiss:
“Listen!”
No need for this command. Johnny’s keen ears had caught it, the most unearthly sound heard on land or sea—a hollow chuckle that fairly dried the marrow in his bones.
“Wha-what is it?” he whispered.
“Who knows?” Drew was creeping forward once more.
“Light in the cabin,” came back to Johnny faintly. “They’re there all right. We’ll creep up on ’em. Get the drop if we can. ”

“ A quiet chap, was this slender detective; quiet, but feared in the underworld as many a big blustering cop was not.
“Drew,” he said after a long silence, “why did they snatch the Red Rover?”
“Revenge, perhaps. The university has been fighting kidnapers. Think what a bold stroke it would be to carry off their super-star just a few days before the final great game of the season!”
“Sounds pretty,” said Howe thoughtfully. “But it doesn’t click. Crooks waste little time on revenge. Dough is what they are after. Money. Money. Money. That is their long cry.” ”

“ Some seconds of suspense, and at last two figures, one tall, one short, stood side by side looking at the water and the dock.
As they stood there, some trick of the moonlight and shadows made their two forms appear to melt into one; and that form presented a spectacle of abject despair. Thirty seconds this pose was held. Then the shadow appeared to explode and two figures melted into the shadows to the right.
What had happened? Red Rodgers had fought a battle and won, only to find that he had in reality lost. ”

“ Red stared at her in silence. Did this girl speak from knowledge of the island, or was she romancing, bolstering up courage with dreams that might prove false?
He dared not ask. Putting his stout shoulders to work at shoving off the raft, he had it afloat at once. Then, after selecting a stout spruce pole and assisting the girl to a place beside him, he shoved away toward that other shore that, looming dark and distant, seemed to beckon and to whisper of “cabins and fireplaces, blankets, easy chairs, and things to eat.” ”

“ Red breathed to himself. “A spot so sheltered that even the shyest of the forest’s great ones shows no fear.”
He had expected the oarsman to drag a rifle from the prow and fire point-blank at this moose. Instead, he sat there for a second, his rough face disfigured by a semblance of a smile; then, pocketing his flashlight, he once again took up his oars.
For Red there was little enough time for thought. The boat swung about. Before them lay a point of land, perhaps the end of an island. ”

“ Then I would have played no more.
“To think,” she mused, “never again to feel the lift of my boat as I danced along in Tobin’s Harbor or out on the open lake. Never again to skim along before a gentle gale. Never to climb the low mountains and look away, away, away to where the blue begins!
“You know,” her tone became confidential, “we were always children on this island. Sometimes we’d take blankets and a grub box, boys and girls together, four, six, ten, a dozen of us, and tramp away to the top of Mount Franklin. ”

“ Such it has been for countless generations. From this spot ten thousand camp fires have sent their golden gleams across the black waters of Duncan’s Bay. Each in turn has faded into the darkness of night. Had this strange visitor, a slender person in a long black coat, cared for such things, he might have dug beneath his very feet and found there charcoal and half burned bones from fires that had gleamed a hundred, perhaps two hundred years ago. For, since Isle Royale lifted its rocky head from out the deep and took on a cap of green, this spot has been the camping place of man. ”

“ Three times he passed the flower shop by the bridge. The shop was closed, yet a light cast upon the flowers in the window displayed Angelo’s skill as a florist. He was an artist in this field. No one could equal him. Could a man be an artist and yet be a rascal? Angelo loved music. Often he had talked to Johnny of symphony concerts, and of grand opera. Could one love the best in music and yet be a villain at heart? ”

“ There, lighted up by the silver moon was the cabin that had offered them sanctuary for a day. Would they ever forget it? How could they?
And who would wish to forget so lovely a picture? Great spruce trees towered toward the sky. Half hidden by the lesser growth of birch and balsam, the cabins stood. There were three in all, yet in this uncertain light they seemed but one.
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“It is one of the loveliest spots on earth!” The girl took one long deep breath that came near being a sob. “It is so beautiful it seems like a dream. Like a southern home beside a river in a moving picture. ”

“ A large fireplace, built of channel rocks, was just before him. As if they had been expected, the fire was laid, and a box of safety matches lay on the rustic mantel.
A match flared, a slow yellow flame mounted higher and higher and filled the room with light.
“Oh!” the girl cried suddenly. “You are the Red Rover? I—I’m glad!”
“That’s what they call me.” Red did not smile. “I—I’m sorry.”
“Sorry! Why are you sorry?”
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“Sorry that you know. I’d rather be plain Red Rodgers who works in a steel mill and has ambitions of his own to become a foreman or a steel tester, or something like that.” ”

“ All that Drew and Johnny got over the radio was a brief account of a more or less mysterious fight on the gridiron. They were shrewd enough to understand that an attempt had been made upon the Red Rover’s life and that quick-witted Tom Howe had saved the day.
“Saved!” Johnny breathed. “Saved! But the score is still 7 to 0. Wonder how a football player behaves after an attempt has been made upon his life.” ”

“ When at last the snow fog had vanished altogether he saw on the not-too-distant shore spruce and balsam standing like rows of tall tents of the Indians.
And even as he stood there some dark object moved amongst the birch trees.
“A moose!” he exclaimed under his breath. Then again he wondered that the girl had shown no fear at their encounter with an antlered monarch back there on the trail.
“Life,” he told himself, as he watched the great sleek creature on the opposite shore step out to stand ankle deep in water, head high, antlers gleaming, “Life is strange! ”

“ Red stared first at the girl, then at the fire. He was wondering in a vague sort of way just how much he had missed by living all his life within the confines of a city. He was to wonder this many times before this business of being kidnaped and carried to a deserted island was over.
“I wonder what that old loon is doing here?” the girl mused. “All his pals must have gone south by now. The gulls stay all winter. Some kinds of ducks, too, and the jays and the chickadees. It can’t be very lonely here even in winter. Wouldn’t it be thrilling if we had to stay here on and on?” ”

“ Waves sweeping in from somewhere down the channel threatened to overturn his fragile craft. He handled it with skill. Great black banks of cloud came rolling across the sky. The darkness was intense; yet he knew his direction. He pressed forward—to what? He could not say.
“If it’s a fight, it will be a good one.” His hands grasped the paddle with a grip of steel. “God is on the side of the fellow who fights for the right. There’s nothing right about men who carry away innocent girls and then demand a reward for their return!”
He was sending the canoe forward with strong, sweeping strokes. ”

“ The moon, skirting a corner of their cabin, left there for a space of seconds the wavering shadow of a man. Ten seconds passed, and the shadow vanished.
“Do—do you think it’s the kidnapers?” Despite her bravest efforts the girl could not prevent her teeth from chattering.
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“Don’t know who it is,” the scout grumbled in a hoarse whisper. “Only one way to deal with a skulker. Go after him!
“Look!” He turned to Red. “In another moment a cloud will be over the moon. Only a small cloud. Soon pass. But time enough. When it gets dark, you go scooting down the Tobin’s Harbor trail. ”

“ When he heard the sound he recognized it; a slow, soft-padded plump-plump, and he was relieved.
“The thing we have met on the trail,” he told himself, “was not a horned demon, but a giant moose.” That he had been utterly at a loss, and that the girl had directed their course in a safe and sensible manner, he also recognized.
After listening to the padded footsteps until they faded out into the silence of the night, he assisted the girl to her feet and whispered:
“You are not a real person. You come from a book. Your name is Alice, and we are having adventures in Wonderland.” ”

“ And they gained now a boat’s length, now another, another and yet another. Each wave crest that lifted them high found them closer to their prey.
They would have won but for one man’s over-reaching hate and the hosts of “Invisible Ones” that the girl believed peopled the heavens.
Of a sudden, weary with rowing, overcome by his burning hate, the man nearest the prow threw down his oars. The next instant a shot rang out and a bullet sang across the waters. ”

“ THE GHOST APPEARS
The mysterious disappearance of Red Rodgers, or the Red Rover, as every one knew him, caused a great commotion. Had a President been assassinated it could not have caused a greater stir.
Not an hour had passed after he vanished before the newspapers came out with an extra with a story telling in detail all that was known about the affair.
“Red Rover,” the story ran, “has never cared for crowds. Being the star of the team, he has often of late been all but mobbed by impetuous youths, foolish old women and infatuated girls. ”

“ Born and raised in a city of mills, he had, from the age of fourteen, played his little part in the making of steel. For three summers and at every other available hour he had toiled at steel. Bare to the waist, brown, heat-burned, perspiring, he had dragged at long bars, raking away at steel bars, but recently formed by rushing, crashing rollers, that were still smoking hot. Other hours he had spent on the gridiron. The one helped the other. Struggling with steel, he had become like steel himself, hard, elastic, resisting. ”

“ Had the opposing players schooled themselves so thoroughly in defensive tactics that no man could go through for a touchdown? In the days away from his team had he grown soft? He hated those kidnapers with a bitter hate; was tempted even to hate old Ed, the scout, Berley Todd and Drew Lane. ”

“ For a long time after that there was silence in the room. Only the ceaseless rush of waters on the shore, and the friendly tick-tock of the clock disturbed the stillness of the night.
“They wanted you to sign a paper,” Red suggested after a time.
“The kidnapers? Yes, they did. Wanted me to say I was in great distress. Wanted me to beg my father to give them money, twenty thousand dollars, to save my life.”
“And you wouldn’t.”
“No.” Her big blue eyes shone with a new light. “Why should I? They are outlaws of the worst type. If I had done what they wished I would have been helping them. ”