The Galloping Ghost by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XXVI BATTLE OVER THE WAVES
There were hours of rest for the Red Rover and his staunch littlecompanion, a lulling of the wild storm that for many hours had lashed therocky shores of Isle Royale. Then came darkness and with it a swiftresolve to risk all on a night of pure adventure.
A hearty handshake with the guide who had stood by them so staunchly, andthey were away.
Slowly the tiny craft crept out upon the black waters of night. They haddressed for the occasion, this girl and boy. He wore a suit of khakiborrowed from the scout, she a boy's shirt found in one of the cabins,and the patched knickers. Dressed so, and riding in their dark greenboat, only with difficulty would they be seen upon the dark waters.
There were reasons for this precaution, the scout had assured them.Having guessed their plan, the kidnapers might even now be lurking in theshadow of some cove, ready to pounce upon them. For this Red was notunprepared. One of the "shootin' irons" hung at his belt.
Keeping close to shore, they passed great jagged piles of rock thatloomed large in the night. They crossed "Nebraska Bay," skirted morerocks, then, following the scout's advice, cut boldly away toward therocky shoals which, because of the darkness, could not be seen.
"Listen!" The boy rested on his oars. There came no sound save the soundof heavy swells breaking lazily over distant rocks.
"There'll be some roll out there," he murmured.
Then over the waters there moved a breath of air that, beginning with awhisper, ended with a sigh as it passed on into the night.
"How weird it seems out here!"
"Spooky!"
To break the spell, they took up the oars.
And now, as on that other occasion, they dropped into the steady rhythmicswing that would carry them far and tire them not at all.
They did not sing, nor whistle, nor even hum. That would not be safe. Forall that, their spirits blended as one as they swept along to the dreamyswing of "Blue Danube," "Indian Love Song" and "Where the River ShannonFlows."
In the steel mill and on the gridiron the young football star had knownteam work, but never such as this. Forgotten were the perils that lurkedin the night; forgotten the danger of darkness and possible storm. Forthe moment here was life, life as he had never before known it. What elsecould matter?
So, with the moon just showing over the rocky crest of Isle Royale, theyswept across the narrow channel, then took up a course that in time wouldlead them out into the wide open sea.
The girl too had caught the spell of the night. As they stole into theshadow of a great rock towering up from the depths, she shuddered, butrowed steadily on.
"A real little brick!" Red thought to himself. "Nothing soft."
He resolved that, should they make it, she certainly must be on the sidelines in that greatest of all games that was to come.
The rocks they passed grew lower and lower. The shoal was breaking uphere. Soon they would leave it all behind. And then, with only thatwinking, blinking light to guide them, they would face the swells and gogliding over them to--. Red's thoughts broke off.
"Listen!"
Had he heard something, the low groan of an oarlock, the mumble of avoice? Who could say? It did not come again.
Swinging the boat about, he headed it straight for the Passage Islandlight that, gleaming a good four miles away, seemed to send them anencouraging wink.
With a rush of glee a great swell seized them and lifted them lightly.But, like some good-natured giant, it let them down gently to go on theirway with a whispering swish of foam.
And now, forgetting their songs, they put their shoulders to the taskbefore them. Meeting the swells at an angle to avoid the dash of chillingwaters, they rose on the crest of a high one to drop into the trough,then swept across a half score of low crests, to be again lifted on high.
"Listen!"
This time it was the girl whose instinct told her to rest on her oars.Once again there passed over the waters that whisper that ended in asigh.
"It is as if voices of the Unseen were trying to tell us something,perhaps to warn us." Her voice was low. "Do you believe in the Unseen?"
"I--I don't know." It was weird, this whisper in the night.
Once again they took up their oars. Not long had they to wait ere theysaw that which was creeping upon them in the night. The moon had longbeen under a cloud. Now it sent its beams across every sweeping swell.And upon one of these swells rode a boat.
"A rowboat," Red grumbled low. "A boat and two men. Now it is life ordeath. They are armed. They will not hesitate to shoot."
Realizing the truth of his words, the girl thrilled to the very center ofher being.
There was need for no explaining. The scout had been right; these men hadbeen watching. They had, perhaps, watched from the wrong point. This hadgiven the boy and girl a start. But now here they were, some hundreds ofyards behind, two men against a boy and a girl, and half the distance yetto go.
"Now!" The boy's hiss answered the hiss of a wave that rolled by. "Now wemust show them!"
They did show them. They rowed with unity of motion and with all theforce God had given them; rowed until even in the chill of night theirfaces ran with perspiration and their arms became bars of aching fire.
And yet, it was not enough. Those others were rowing with the desperationof those who hear the clanging of a prison gate behind them. Beyond adoubt they knew prison life. Theirs was the frenzy of those whose soulsare stirred to the depths by great fear. They knew fear. This was theironly emotion. Love, pity, compassion, these they did not know. So theyworked with the frenzy of despair.
And they gained now a boat's length, now another, another and yetanother. Each wave crest that lifted them high found them closer to theirprey.
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 mannearest the prow threw down his oars. The next instant a shot rang outand a bullet sang across the waters.
"Lie down in the boat!" was Red's command to Berley.
The girl hesitated, but obeyed.
On the crest of the wave the boy bent low. Once again a bullet sang closeat hand.
In the trough he rowed desperately. Swinging his boat half about, heavoided, as long as he could, rising on the next crest. When at last hedid rise, he dropped flat beside his companion.
Just in time. A bullet crashing into the boat passed over them.
"Two can play at that."
Red crept forward, placed his "shootin' iron" across the stern, waitedhis time, then loosed a roar like the burst of a cannon.
The answer came singing over--too high.
Then, as if provoked by the unfairness of the battle, the "Unseen" took ahand. Sudden darkness settled upon the water. A cloud as black as inkcame sweeping in from the north. A voice from the air, not a whisper, buta roar, told them that one of those sudden storms that sweep across LakeSuperior in November was at hand.
The girl was up and in her place on the instant.
"And now may God have mercy on our souls!" she murmured, as Red seizedhis oars and they began to row.
Who can describe the fury of such a storm, the rushing of wind, wavesmounting higher and higher, foam hissing to the right and left of you,darkness all about you, even the gleam of the light from Passage Islandlost for long, desperate moments?
And yet you battle as never before. Heading your boat squarely into theteeth of the storm, you rise and fall, rise and fall like a cork in thecenter of the Atlantic. You battle. You pray. You hope until hope seemsvain.
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 lookedupon a world of steel-blue waves flecked with foam. And on those wavessome distance away there rode a boat. It was a white boat with ano
Once again, as they looked, Red said hoarsely: "Listen!"
As before, there came the long whisper that ended with a sigh.
But even as they rested on their oars there came to their listening earsa louder sound, the drumming of an airplane's motor.
"They are coming!" Red took up his oars. "Passage Island is just overthere. It can't be far now."