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Owen Clancy’s Happy Trail or, The Motor Wizard in California
Chapter 11. Aboard The "Sylvia"
Burt L.Standish
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       _ CHAPTER XI. ABOARD THE "SYLVIA"
       Clancy's shoulder received a hard wrench and a tingling pain shot through his arm. The man who had hailed him was of medium height and stocky build, and well muscled. Clancy was in no physical condition to keep up his end in such a set-to, and the result would probably have been disastrous had not Katz leaped over the side and taken a hand.
       Katz, remembering the way his pal had treated him was as venomous as a rattlesnake. The motor wizard had all he could do to keep him from going too far, and seriously injuring the man. With very little commotion the fellow was overcome, gagged with a handkerchief, and tied with a rope which Clancy picked up on the deck.
       This rough work finished, the two intruders stood breathlessly in the shadow of the awning, and waited and listened. They could hear a drone of voices forward. The monotonous sound kept going without a break, which seemed to prove that the slight noise aft had not been overheard.
       "So far, so good," muttered Katz. "What next, Clancy?"
       "Our next move is to look around and see who's aboard," was the reply.
       "There's somebody in the cabin, that's a cinch, but I reckon this dub was the only other chap around the works. Like enough he was a watchman, or somethin'. What did he call you?"
       "Lewis."
       "Lewis is the engineer. If he saw you climb over the rail, and if he thought you was Lewis, then it's a safe guess that Lewis is one of the men who's ashore."
       "That's right."
       "If Lewis has shore leave, then I'll bet Hogan is on board."
       "I think so--Hogan and Wynn."
       "They're the two who are in the cabin, hey? It takes two to make a talk."
       "We'll find out who's in the cabin."
       There was a deck house amidships, with steps leading up from the afterdeck. Windows opening into the cabin were almost flush with the deck, and by kneeling down, Clancy and Katz could look into the small room below.
       They found that they had been correct in their surmises. Wynn and Hogan sat facing each other on upholstered benches. A table was between them, and upon the table was a battered satchel of small dimensions. Katz reached for Clancy's arm and gave it a quick pressure.
       "That's the grip with the money!" he whispered. "What's the reason we can't get hold of it?"
       "We've got to get hold of it, somehow," returned Clancy. "Suppose you go aft and yell for Hogan? It's possible, Katz, that your call will take both Hogan and Wynn out of the cabin. That may give me a chance to duck down the companion and grab the satchel."
       "It's worth tryin'," approved Katz. "Even if it don't win out, we can still end the thing in a fight. You got a shootin' iron?"
       "No."
       "Neither have I. Blamed if I don't feel kinder lost without one. I'll bet Hogan is heeled, and I know Wynn never goes without his artillery. We'll have to look sharp and be spry, Clancy, if things come to a show-down."
       While Clancy watched the two in the cabin, he saw Wynn draw the satchel across the table, open it, and pull a packet of greenbacks from inside. He held up the packet, and laughed. Hogan joined in the laugh.
       The motor wizard had a very good look at Captain Hogan, and he did not wonder that Hiram had been deceived into thinking the fellow was his father. The bulging brow, the huge nose, and the retreating chin all conspired to form a countenance that would have claimed attention anywhere. One eye had an evil squint, and it gave to the whole face a crafty expression.
       Captain Hogan, it was clear, would never be hung for his good looks, although it would be too much to say that he might not, some time, be strung up for his evil deeds.
       Wynn dropped the money into the satchel and sat back arm the bench. As usual, he was whiffing at a cigarette. Hogan was smoking a big black cigar.
       Neither Clancy nor Katz was so situated that he could hear the conversation going forward between the two in the cabin. The voices sounded from below in considerable volume, but the words ran together in hollow echoes that baffled the ear.
       "Go on, Katz," whispered Clancy. "We'll try that scheme. If Hogan leaves the cabin, I'll go down."
       "Suppose Wynn stays with the money?"
       "I guess I can take care of Wynn."
       "Well, here's hopin'. I'd like to crack out a winnin', this play. Sit tight, now, and listen to the meller trill o' my bazoo."
       The motor wizard remained at his post while Katz crept back to the after part of the boat. Then, suddenly, Katz opened up with a yell for "Hogan! Cap'n Hogan!"
       Hogan leaped to his feet, all energy and curiosity in a moment. A startled look crossed Wynn's face, and was clearly visible in the rays of the swinging lamp. The captain jumped for the companion stairs, closely followed by Wynn. Clancy fell to wondering which side, of the deck house they'd travel on their way aft. If they came down his side, then the chances were good for a scrimmage instead of a dash into the cabin.
       In the excitement of the moment, the satchel had been left entirely unprotected on the cabin table.
       As luck would have it, Hogan and Wynn ran along the alley across from the one in which Clancy was lying. The time had now come for Clancy to act, and, without loss of a moment, he gained the companion, and made his way swiftly down the steep stairs.
       He could hear a sound of husky voices and a tramp of quick feet from aft. What was going on, between the captain and Wynn, on one side, and Katz, on the other, was a mystery. Clancy did not waste time in any guessing, but grabbed up the satchel and started with it on his return up the companion stairs.
       But he only started. As he began going up at the bottom, some one began coming down from the top. The fellow above was in as big a hurry as Clancy, and he lost his footing on the steep stairs and came below with a rush.
       The motor wizard was caught full by the descending form, and knocked flat. His game shoulder, as he fell, struck against the corner of a locker with cruel force and a cry of pain was wrenched from his lips. Almost as soon as he was down he was up again, and he had not let go of the satchel.
       The other fellow was also on his feet, It was Gerald Wynn! Wynn stared at Clancy as though he could hardly credit the evidence of his senses.
       "You--here!" Wynn gulped.
       No answer was necessary. Besides, with Clancy time was pressing. Taking advantage of Wynn's surprise, the motor wizard attempted to push by him and get to the deck. Wynn, however, had full use of his limbs and his faculties.
       "Give me that satchel!" he cried, and tried to snatch the grip out of Clancy's hand.
       Clancy evaded him with a deft leap sideways. Wynn swore savagely, and struck at the motor wizard with his clenched fist.
       Clancy blocked the blow with his game arm--hurting it so that he almost felt as though it had been struck by lightning. Then his other fist shot out, catching Wynn fairly, and driving him against the bulkhead.
       Clancy had to drop the satchel while executing his defense. He now grabbed it from the floor, and plunged on up the companionway. As he emerged through the companion doors, he beheld a form bulking largely in the half gloom. It was Captain Hogan, braced in the passageway between the top of the deck house and the rail, and leveling a revolver at the crouching form of Katz.
       "Stand where you are, you bloomin' beach comber," yelled Hogan, "or I'll blow a hole through you!"
       Katz swore, and continued his forward movement.
       "Last call!" went on the captain. "Another step this way and I'll shoot!"
       "You're a robber!" cried Katz. "You and Wynn, between you, have skinuned me out of seventy-five hundred dollars!"
       "Where did you get the money?" demanded Hogan ironically. "It's no crime to skin a skinner--or to shoot one either, Here's where you get yours!"
       Before Hogan could pull the trigger, Clancy sprang upon him from behind, and forced his revolver hand downward. The weapon exploded, and a bullet plumped into the deck.
       While the captain was struggling with the motor wizard, Katz ran forward and wrenched away the six-shooter.
       "Let go o' him, Clancy!" panted Katz. "I've got him now. The old sea shark will do as I say or take the same medicine he's been threatenin' to hand me."
       Clancy flung himself from Hogan, and the latter stood at bay under the muzzle of the revolver.
       "You're a measly pirate," flamed Hogan, "to come aboard of me and carry on like you're doing!"
       "I'm no worse'n you, if I am a pirate!" snarled Katz. "Put your hands to your back. Clancy, get another piece o' that rope and make Hogan's arms fast."
       Clancy put down the satchel and followed his companion's orders.
       "Now sit down, Hogan!" snapped Katz,
       "What's your scheme?" demanded the captain.
       "To put you out o' the runnin'. Drop on the deck. I tell you!"
       Katz flourished the revolver, as he spoke. Hogan lowered himself to the planks on which he was standing, easing his pent-up feelings wrathfully as he did so.
       "Now a half hitch around his legs, Clancy," said Katz, and Clancy came around with the end of the rope and got the captain's legs in limbo.
       "You're a fine pair of grafters!" sneered the irate Hogan. "I hope I live to manhandle you for this night's work."
       Far off across the water could be heard a screech of oars in the locks, and a faint sound of voices. Hogan, aware that some of his men were coming from the pier, lifted his voice in a loud roar for help.
       Katz, cursing furiously, sprang toward him and drew back his fist to strike. Clancy caught the arm before it could deal the blow, and saved the captain from such savage brutality. Katz turned on the motor wizard.
       "Oh, you!" he yelped. "I reckon I'm about done with this foolin'. Gi' me that satchel!"
       "I'll keep this," returned Clancy. "The money in it belongs to me."
       "Blamed if I care who it belongs to, I'm goin' to have it. Fork over!" Katz pushed the point of the revolver in Clancy's face. "Fork, I tell you, or take the consequences."
       Clancy dropped the satchel. _