The Border Boys Along the St. Lawrence Read online

  CHAPTER I. THROUGH THE RAPIDS.

  "Steady, Ralph, old fellow, the Galoups are right ahead."

  "All right," responded Ralph Stetson from his position at the steeringwheel of the swift motor boat the _River Swallow_, "I saw them tenminutes ago, Hardware. Just give Persimmons down below a hail and tellhim to slow up a bit. They're wild waters and we don't want to gothrough them too fast."

  Harry Ware, who (from the fact that his initials were H. D. Ware) wasknown to his chums by the nickname Ralph Stetson had just used, hastenedto the speaking tube connecting the bridge of the _River Swallow_ withthe engine room, in which Percy Simmons, another of Ralph's chums, wastending the twin racing engines with assiduous care.

  "Slow down a bit, Persimmons," he yelled, "we're just about to hit upthe Gallops."

  "Whoop! Hurray for the Glues!" floated back up the tube, as Persimmonsabbreviated the name of the famous rapids into the form by which theywere locally known. "Hold tight, everybody. Zing! Zang! Zabella!"

  The rapids the boys were approaching had been well named by the earlyFrench settlers along the St. Lawrence the Galoups, or, in plainEnglish, the Gallops, or, again, to give them their local name, theGlues.

  For two miles or more near the American side of the river thewhite-capped, racing waters tore along at thirty miles or so an hour.The great rocks that lay concealed under the tumbling foam-coveredwaters caused the river to boil and swirl like a hundred witches'caldrons.

  To an experienced skipper, however, the Galoups held no particularterrors. All that was needful was familiarity with the intricacies oftheir currents and whirlpools and they could be "run" in perfect safety.During the three months that the Border Boys had been the guests of Mr.Stetson at his summer home on Dexter Island, some miles below, they hadgained the necessary skill to negotiate the racing, tumbling Glues.Aside from the fact that he had ordered the engines of his father's fastcraft, the _River Swallow_, slowed down as they approached the place,and that his hands gripped the steering wheel more tightly, RalphStetson, only son of King Pin Stetson, the Railroad Magnate, felt noparticular qualms as the whitecaps of the rollicking Glues appeared outof the darkness ahead.

  The _River Swallow_ was a narrow, sharp-stemmed motor boat which hadmore than once successfully defended her title of the fastest craft onthe St. Lawrence. She was about sixty feet in length, painted agleaming, lustrous black, with luxuriously fitted cabins and engines ofthe finest type obtainable, which drove her twin propellers at twelvehundred revolutions a minute. No wonder the boys, who, since theirsojourn on the island, had become adepts at handling her, enjoyed theirpositions as captain and crew of the craft.

  One of the two paid hands, who berthed forward, came up to Ralph just asthe latter reached out for the simple mechanism which controlled thepowerful search-light mounted near the steering wheel.

  The boy had decided to use the rays of the great lamp in picking out hiscourse. In one or two places big rocks bristled menacingly out of theboiling rapids, and if the craft should happen to strike one of them,even with a glancing blow, a terrible accident would be almost certainto result. But with his search-light to act as a night-raking eye, Ralphfelt small fear of anything of the sort occurring.

  The man who came up to Ralph, just as a sharp click sounded and thebright scimitar of electric light, its power increased by reflectors,slashed the night, was a rather remarkable looking man to be an ordinarypaid hand on a wealthy man's pleasure boat.

  Fully six feet in height, powerfully built and erect, he had at firstglance a look of refinement and intelligence that did not, somehow,appear to blend well with the somewhat inferior position he occupied. Itis true that it was honest, clean employment, of which no decent manneed have been ashamed, but Ralph felt every time he looked at him thatRoger Malvin--such was the name the man gave--might have secured somemore suitable occupation.

  Yet the first favorable impression that Malvin gave did not, for somereason, survive closer acquaintanceship. Underlying his air of frankintelligence was something else that Ralph had not so far been able tounderstand. There was something almost sneaking and furtive about Malvinat times. But Ralph, loath at any time to distrust any of those withwhom he was thrown in contact, decided that probably this was a merepeculiarity of manner with no foundation behind it.

  The other paid hand seemed a less complex person. Olaf Hansen was ashort, rather insignificant looking little Norwegian, with light blueeyes, a ruddy complexion and a shock of yellow hair. He appeared to berather under the sway of Malvin, who, before the boys had arrived, hadhad command of the _River Swallow_. Whether or not Malvin held anygrudge against them for assuming charge of the boat and depriving him ofthe easy berth he had enjoyed, Ralph was not able to determine; but onceor twice he had noticed little things about the man which more than halfinclined him to the belief that such was the case. If this were actuallyso, Malvin had so far adopted no active measures of reprisal and obeyedorders with alacrity and willingness, just as he might have done had healways "berthed forward" in the cramped quarters assigned to the crew ofthe _River Swallow_.

  "Want a hand to get through the Gallops, sir?" he asked respectfully ashe came to Ralph's side.

  "No, thank you, Malvin," was the rejoinder. "I guess by this time I'menough of a skipper to take her through without any trouble."

  "The river's fallen a little and they are pretty bad to-night," hazardedMalvin. "I thought if I took the wheel----"

  He laid a hand on the spokes as he said this.

  "Be good enough not to do that again," said Ralph, rather sternly, as hespun the wheel, thus shaking off the man's grip. "You made me swervefrom my course quite a bit, and that isn't safe right here, as youknow."

  He looked sharply at the man as he spoke. The _River Swallow_ had beenup to Piquetville after supplies, groceries, and so forth, for use onthe island. Malvin and the other hand had been given leave to go uptownwhile the boys marketed. For an instant a suspicion flashed acrossRalph's mind that Malvin had been intemperate during his "shore leave."But a minute later he decided that it was only his imagination. Still,he did not like the way in which the man had deliberately tried to wrestthe wheel from him. It savored of insubordination, something which hehad never noticed in Malvin's conduct hitherto.

  "You can tend the search-light, Malvin," he ordered sharply. "Try topick up Big Nigger rock. Our course lies to starboard of that. Thenwe'll pass the Needles on the port. After that it's a clear run. Thecurrent will carry us through without much help from the engines."

  "Very well, sir," said Malvin respectfully, taking up his position byRalph's side, one hand on the mechanism of the search-light.

  Suddenly the even tenor of the _River Swallow's_ course was changed. Itwas apparent that a force superior even to her powerful engines had holdof the craft. Her light fabric shook as if in the grip of a giant'sfingers. She wallowed, swerved and plunged in the swift waters, throwingspray high over her bow as she entered the grasp of the Gallops.

  Ralph thrilled. There was something that made the blood race through hisveins as fast as the rapids themselves in the swift, sweeping dashthrough the treacherous channel. Once in the grip of the Gallops, therewas no turning back. The task of bringing the _River Swallow_ safelythrough lay in his hands and in his hands alone. On his nerve and skilleverything depended during the next two miles.

  The _River Swallow_ shot forward, drawn by the tension of the racingrapids.

  Suddenly Ralph's attention was attracted to Malvin. For the second timethat evening an ugly suspicion flashed into his mind.