The Motor Boat Club at the Golden Gate; or, A Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog Read online

  CHAPTER II

  HAZING, M. B. C. K. STYLE

  At the ferry slip on the San Francisco side the two motor boat boys sawthe young woman again.

  A big, broad-shouldered, well-dressed, wholesome looking young man oftwenty-two or twenty-three years of age, came forward eagerly, hat inhand, to meet her.

  "She's all right, now," declared Joe, with satisfaction. "Gracious! Thathusky young fellow could eat up two or three muckers like the one youpunched, Tom."

  "Yes; our young lady of the journey is surely all right," noddedHalstead, delighted with what he had seen. "So come along, Joe. We'llprobably never see any of that party again."

  Through a throng of eager cabmen the two young motor boat boys ploddedsturdily. Neither had ever been in San Francisco before, but they knewthat the ferry came in at the foot of Market Street, and that the PalaceHotel was but a few blocks from the water-front on the same great arteryof traffic.

  "Might as well walk up, and get a little bit of a look at the town,"proposed Halstead.

  "Which side of the street is the Palace on?" queried Joe.

  "East."

  "Then we'll cross over. I don't believe we can miss it."

  It was a bustling crowd through which the boys steered their way. Theman on the San Francisco sidewalk who is under eighty years of age isengaged in making his fortune, and has no time to lose. After he hasmade it, he buys an automobile, and has comparatively little need of asidewalk.

  Men from every country in Europe and the Orient passed them. There was,of course, a large sprinkling of native Americans, yet even the chancepasser knew that he was moving through a throng recruited from the fourquarters of the world.

  To Tom the walk ended all too soon. However, they were bent on business,not pleasure, so they turned in briskly through the main entrance of thePalace Hotel as soon as a policeman had pointed it out to them.

  Captain Tom Halstead stepped to the desk, picking up a pen to register."Are Davis, Perkins, Prentiss and Randolph here ahead of us?" queriedHalstead, as soon as he had written his name and his chum's.

  "All of 'em," smiled the clerk, after glancing at the entry on thehotel register. "Davis, who got here first, with Perkins, engaged roomsclose together for the whole party. Front! I'll have you shown right up,Captain Halstead."

  The colored boy in blue uniform and brass buttons confiscated the bagsand overcoats of the two young travelers, leading the way to theelevator. That bell-boy turned his head to conceal a grin that illuminedhis face.

  "So our friends are all here ahead of us, and have everything ready?"remarked young Dawson.

  The bell-boy, his head still turned away, seemed to be choking.

  "I wonder if they've seen Mr. Baldwin, or heard from him?" mused Tom,aloud.

  "Right dis way, sah," begged the bell-boy, stepping out of the elevatorahead of them at the third floor.

  He led them down a long corridor, turned into another corridor, thenhalted before a door. That bell-boy gave three distinct knocks; a pause,then two more knocks.

  "I reckon yo' can go right in, sah," announced the bell-boy, droppingsome of his burden in order to throw the door open.

  Utterly unsuspicious, Tom and Joe passed through the doorway. Theinstant they had done so, the bell-boy tossed their bags and coats inafter them, yanked the door shut and fled, chuckling.

  "Here they come! Welcome!" roared Dick Davis's deep, hearty voice.

  A short hallway led from the door to the room proper. As Tom Halsteadpassed over the inner threshold a pair of arms reached out from eitherside, yanking him into the room out of Joe's sight. Dawson leaped afterhis chum, only to be similarly seized.

  Then it snowed! At least, for a brief instant, that was what the victimsthought.

  Tom was neatly, ruthlessly tripped, being sent sprawling to the floor,while Ab Perkins, snatching up a bolster, which he had ripped open,shook all the fine, downy feathers over him. They sifted down the youngcaptain's neck; they obscured his vision; some of the small feathersfell into his mouth. He fell to spitting them out with vigor, evenbefore he tried to get up.

  Nor did Joe Dawson fare any better. If anything, he was rather moreroughly handled by Jed Prentiss and Jeff Randolph.

  "Now, roll 'em!" roared Dick Davis.

  Before either of the newcomers could rise to his feet they were rolledtogether in the middle of the floor. Ab lifted the mattress from thebed, plumping it down over the two victims. Then all four of the gleefulassailants threw themselves across the mattress, shoving it over thefloor, using Tom and Joe, underneath, for rollers.

  And, over it all, rose the famous club yell:

  "M. B. C. K.! M. B. C. K.! Motor Boat Club! Wow!"

  "Oh, but we're glad to see 'em!" yelled Dick Davis, in his deepesttones. "Good old chums! Keep up the welcome, fellows!"

  From under the mattress Tom Halstead managed to make himself heard,though his voice sounded muffled indeed.

  "Help!" he roared. "Turn out the port watch! Mutiny!"

  "Port watch, ahoy! Roll up on deck, you lubbers!" roared Ab Perkins."Cap'n wants you!"

  At that Jed and Jeff left the mattress, darting to where Tom's and Joe'straveling bags lay. These they quickly opened, dumping all the contentson the floor.

  "All hands to quell mutiny!" yelled Jed Prentiss. Dick Davis and AbPerkins joined them on the jump.

  That gave Tom and Joe, both very red-faced and much winded, a chance tocrawl out from under the mattress.

  Yet no sooner did they show their astonished faces than all four of thefirst-comers began to pelt them with the articles dumped from thetraveling bags.

  Slippers flew straight and true, landing with swats. Hair brushes,tooth-brushes, cakes of soap, boxes of tooth-powder and numerous otherarticles filled the air, a veritable cyclone with the fleet captain andthe fleet engineer in the middle of it.

  "Cut it!" commanded Tom Halstead, sternly. "Oh, if I had my revolver andhandcuffs and leg-irons here. This is the last time I'll ever go on deckwithout 'em. But cut it--anyway!"

  Dick Davis, having thrown the last missile that came to hand, and havingpitched Halstead's overcoat up in the air so that it now lay hangingfrom the chandelier, suddenly straightened up, looking very grave as hesaluted and roared out:

  "Aye, aye, sir!"

  At that the other three disturbers of the peace lined up with Dick, allsaluting.

  "What's the meaning of all this riot?" insisted Halstead, trying to keepback the grin that struggled to his face.

  "After not having seen each other for all these moons," demanded Davis,in a hurt voice, "can't we do anything to show you how ding-whanged gladwe are to behold you two once more?"

  "Your joy takes a strange turn," grimaced Captain Tom.

  "I prefer people who put their welcome in writing," retorted Joe.

  At that Ab Perkins, with a whoop, made for a table. From it he snatchedup a cork, one end of which had been burned to a char.

  "Come on, then, fellows," proposed Ab Perkins, gleefully; "we'll writeour welcome on Joe's face."

  "Will you, though?" demanded Dawson, crouching low, as though for afootball tackle. He caught Ab, and rising with that boisterous youth,toppled him over. Ab Perkins went sprawling; fortunately for him helanded across the mattress.

  "Hold on!" expostulated Tom Halstead. "The reception committee isexcused--fired--bounced, in fact. Now, stop all this monkey-business,and let's get down to trade topics. But, first of all----"

  Tom paused to spit out two or three fragments of down feathers. Then hecrossed to where the water pitcher stood on a tray. Pouring out a glassof water, Halstead took a mouthful, while the late mutineers looked onexpectantly.

  "O-oh! Ugh! Waugh! Wow!" sputtered Tom, expelling his mouthful into awaste-water jar beside the wash-stand. "That water's _salt_!"

  "Well, what of it, you bo'sun's mate of a lobster trap?" demanded AbPerkins, aggressively. "Is it the first time you've ever hit up againstsalt water?"

  "Now, see here, fellows," gri
nned Halstead, looking around at the impishfaces of the first-comers, "this is all right. We know how glad you areto see us. Your pleasure is far greater than we had ever dared tohope----"

  "Oh, we can show more pleasure!" proposed Dick.

  "Do it at your personal risk, then!" defied the young captain, arminghimself with the water pitcher. "Now, then, will you all be quiet?"

  "Oh, aye!" promised young Davis, with a sudden assumption of meekness.

  "I trust you--trust you all to the death," affirmed Tom, grimly. "ButI'm going to keep hold of the water pitcher just the same!"

  "This deck doesn't look ship-shape, does it?" demanded Dick Davis,glancing about him. "Hadn't we better change craft? Wait here a moment."

  Stepping to the push-button, he pressed twice, for the porter. TomHalstead remained on guard, armed as before, and Joe keeping ratherclose to him, until the porter knocked at the door.

  "See here, my friend," remarked Dick, holding out a dollar bill to theporter, "there has been a ship-wreck here."

  "It looks like it, sir," grinned the porter, pocketing the money."What'll you have, sir?"

  "Find the chambermaid that belongs on this floor," begged Dick, "andbring her here."

  The porter was soon back with the chambermaid, who also received adollar bill from young Davis.

  "Now, you two try some team-work, please," begged Dick Davis, "and seewhether you can make this place look neat enough to be a captain'scabin. Gentlemen of the Motor Boat Club, will you adjourn to the costlyquarters that Ab and myself consider almost good enough for us?"

  Tom Halstead laid down the water pitcher and passed out of the room lastof all.

  "I reckon you'd better go into the other room first, Joe, and let mebring up the rear," called Tom, grimly. "Then we can watch, from bothends of the line, for any new tricks."

  Dick Davis produced a key, admitting all hands to the adjoining room.

  "Now, be seated," proposed Davis, in his most hospitable tone. The clubmembers found chairs.

  "Have you seen Mr. Baldwin?" inquired Captain Tom.

  "No; but we've sent him word," Ab replied. "Mr. Baldwin has offices inthe Chronicle Building."

  "Is that near?" queried Halstead.

  "Only a few hawser lengths from here, on the other side of MarketStreet," put in Jed Prentiss. "Come here to the window. There's theChronicle Building over yonder."

  "Mr. Baldwin has a telephone, of course?" suggested Captain Tom.

  "Yes; 9378 Market."

  "I can tell him we're here, then," murmured Tom, crossing the room towhere a telephone apparatus rested against the wall.

  "Don't," prompted Dick. "Mr. Baldwin has sent his orders. You can 'phonehim between three and three-thirty to-day. Mustn't bother him at anyother time."

  "That's right, is it?" demanded Halstead, looking half-suspiciously atDavis.

  "Quite right," nodded the latter youth, gravely. Dick was older than theothers, being nineteen, as against a general average of sixteen yearsfor the other boys. Dick was different in another respect. While theother five boys followed motor boating as a means of livelihood,depending upon their earnings, young Davis, the son of a ship-builder ofBath, Maine, was at all times well supplied with money. Dick's outlinefor the future included a possible college course, and then breakinginto the ship-building business with his father. It was not yet quitedecided whether young Davis should omit the college part of the plan. Inthe meantime, the elder Davis believed that an active membership in theMotor Boat Club would be the best possible training to fit his son for aposition in the ship-yard.

  "Well, if those are the instructions, then," replied Captain Tom,returning to his chair, "we'll wait until a few minutes after three."

  "And now it's half-past eleven," said Jed, consulting his watch."Luncheon will not be served until one. We can wait here as well asanywhere. Say, fellows, I'm just crazy to hear some good old yarns ofwhat you others have been through."

  With that, yarn-spinning became the order of the day. The young men werestill at it when they went down to the gorgeous dining room of thePalace Hotel. The air about their table was thick with yarns all throughthe meal.

  While they sat around the table, absorbed in one another's stories, adark-visaged, well-dressed man of thirty started to enter the diningroom. Just at the threshold, however, he paused, for his glance hadalighted on a profile view of Captain Tom Halstead at one of the tablesin the center of the dining room.

  "That's the cub who struck me this morning," muttered the dark-facedone, drawing back. "I want to know who he is. I want to place him--Iwant to meet him and settle the account for that blow and thedisappointment it brought about!"

  Tom Halstead turned around, a moment later, but he did not see the manhe had knocked from the train that morning at the Sixteenth Streetstation in Oakland. That worthy had drawn quickly back out of sight, andwas now looking about for some hotel employ? to question.

  Ten minutes later he of the dark visage had all the information he felthe needed.

  "Tom Halstead? So that's your name?" snarled the stranger, as he startedfor the street entrance. "And you're employed by Baldwin--could anythingbe more favorable to our meeting again, eh?" The stranger smiled darkly,meaningly, as he pronounced the name of Baldwin.

  Luncheon over, the yarning motor boat boys embarked in the elevator.This time they went direct to the room assigned to Tom and Joe. Thetrunks of these two young men had arrived, and now rested in the room.

  Once more the yarning went on, until Captain Tom checked it at exactlytwo minutes past three o'clock.