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Updated: May 13, 2025
It is rather difficult to analyze the moral status of such a man, or that of the man ready to deal with him. Cleigh lowered his book and assumed a listening attitude. Above the patter of the rain he heard the putt-putt of a motor launch. He laid the book on the table and reached for a black cigar, which he lit and began to puff quickly. Louder grew the panting of the motor. It stopped abruptly.
Earlier in the evening while he talked with his aunt he had remarked upon the great distinctness with which the putt-putt of a motorboat somewhere on the lake had carried. Now when a whip-poor-will flew to a nearby tree its rapid-fire call flung wide insistently: Whip'rweel, whip'rweel, whip'rweel, whip'rweel, whip'rweel, whip'rweel. . . .
But this effort was distracted and made futile by a popping of several revolver shots from the gangways amidships. One is jumpy when soft-nosed bullets putt-putt around him. As a result, the bomb rolled about on the open deck. Nevertheless, the illuminators had earned the respect of the mutineers for my fireworks.
A bee blundered past Val's nose, and he realized that it might be well to close the screen hanging shutter-like outside. From the direction of the hidden water came the faint putt-putt of a motor-boat, but inside Pirate's Haven there was utter silence. As yet the rest of the family were not abroad.
The engine coughed, sputtered, and then settled down to a steady putt-putt. They were off. "Val, do you do you think he is badly hurt?" He dared not look down; it required all his powers of concentration on what lay before them to keep his hand steady. "No. We'll get a doctor when we get back. He'll come around again in no time Jeems, I mean." But would he?
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