Two days after theAlbatrossleft Savannah harbor, another small steam vessel made her way in. Had any one been interested in her identity he could have made out the namePrincesson bow and stern, but to the casual observer this meant little or nothing, save that the craft was not a very spruce-looking member of the royal family.
There was an air of neglect about her. The paint was scraped off in many places, and was dingy in others. When she rolled a bit on the swells a glimpse could be had of many barnacles clinging to her copper plates. In fact, she was rather a forlornPrincesswho came to anchor on the edge of the channel.
"Now, you boys get into a boat, go ashore and see if he's been here," said an old man, whose chin was adorned with a small bunch of white whiskers, that moved up and down when he talked. "Just make some inquiries, and find out if the yachtAlbatrosshas been here, and when she left. And, mind you, don't you go to spending money, 'cause I won't give you any more."
"Maybe Sam or I had better go along," suggested the shorter of two men, who stood leaning over the yacht's side. "We can make better inquiries than either Guy or Simon, Mr. Larabee."
"That may be, Sam Newton," admitted Dick's Uncle Ezra, whom, I suppose, the reader has already identified as the old man in question. "That may be, but I want you and Ike Murdock to stay on board, and have a talk with me. We've got to plan to catch my nephew, and he's ahead of us in a fast yacht."
"Then why did you want to stop here?" asked the man addressed as Ike Murdock.
"I wanted to make sure he'd been here. You never can tell what that boy will do. Since his father so foolishly let him have all the money he wants, he goes all about, looking for ways to spend it."
"And you're going to stop him," suggested Sam Newton.
"That's my intention. He'd have been stopped by this time if you men had managed to get hold of him, as I told you to, and paid you for. You bungled the whole business, and made me have to hire this steamship to take after him. Why didn't you get him into my hands secretly, as I thought you would?"
"Because he was too smart for us," admitted Ike, bitterly. "We had him fairly on board this yacht, and only for that old sailor, who happenedto recognize one of our crew, your nephew would be where you want him, by this time."
"And that would be in a place where he can't squander his fortune," went on Uncle Ezra, savagely. "If his father won't teach him habits of thrift and industry, and how to save his money, I will, for he is my only sister's child. I may be running a big risk in doing it this way, but it's worth it."
"It certainly is a risk—for you and for us—if we're caught," murmured Sam. "But I don't care, as long as I get well paid."
"Me either," added Ike.
"Well, are you and Guy ready to go ashore?" asked the old man, addressing Simon Scardale. "All I want to find out is if my nephew's yacht has been in this port, and when she left. I heard Dick say to his father that he was to stop here to take aboard some friend of his. Oh, the way my nephew wastes his money! He doesn't care how big a party he has aboard to feed. It's a shameful waste!"
"Yes, we're ready to go," said Simon. "But can't we signal for a motorboat to take us off, and bring us back? It's quite a way to row ashore."
"No, you can't signal for no motorboat," snapped Mr. Larabee. "Motorboats cost money, and I've spent nearly a thousand dollars on this business already, and I suppose I'll have to spend more. You boys can row. It'll be good exercise for you. Boys should exercise."
"Then, can't you advance us a little more money?" asked Simon. "I need a new necktie."
"You don't need one aboard this ship, and when we get through, and I pay you the rest of your wages, after you've helped me to capture my nephew, you can buy as many neckties as you want. Now, hurry off, for I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. It costs money every day I have this steamer."
Grumbling at the stinginess of their employer, Guy and Simon, with the help of one of the few sailors on thePrincess, lowered a small boat, and pulled laboriously ashore. Meanwhile, Mr. Larabee went below with the two men, whom, had Dick seen, he would have at once recognized as those who acted so strangely toward him in New York.
"If we can't intercept him any sooner, we'll have to go all the way to Cuba, I guess," admitted Mr. Larabee, after a long talk with the two unscrupulous men he had hired. "But it's going to cost me a power of money."
"What of it? You'll get it all back, won't you?" asked Ike.
"Indeed, I will, and with interest, too. But I hate to put out so much at once. This is more than I've spent in a whole year at Dankville, and we've only been on this trip a few days. Oh, why didn't you hold on to him, when you had him that night in the rainstorm at Hamilton Corners?"
"We had a very good reason," said Sam. "Hisdog had too good a hold on us. I can feel his teeth yet, and my leg is still sore. If I'd got hydrophobia I'd had to sue you for damages, Mr. Larabee," and Sam winked at Ike.
"No, you wouldn't!" exclaimed the crabbed old man. "You signed a paper to do this work at your own risk, and I'll hold you to it. You can't sue me, no matter what happens."
"Oh, well, let's not quarrel," suggested Ike. "Now, when the boys come back we'll know what to do. While we're waiting, I guess I'll eat."
"Seems to me you're always eating," grumbled Uncle Ezra.
"The salt air gives me a good appetite," said Ike.
"Me, too," added his crony.
"It takes a powerful lot of money to run a steamship," complained the old man. "If I'd a known how terrible much it took I don't believe I'd ever gone into this thing, though I do want to prevent my nephew from wasting his fortune, and this was the only way I saw, for it was useless to appeal to him or his father."
"Still, kidnapping is a dangerous business," suggested Ike.
"Don't say that word!" cried Mr. Larabee, quickly, looking around apprehensively. "Ain't I told you this isn't a regular kidnapping? I'm only doing it for his good. It ain't kidnapping in the real sense of the word."
"Have your own way about it," conceded the ill-favored man. "I'm going to eat."
Guy and Simon came back in about two hours, to report that Dick's yacht had been in Savannah, and had left.
"Then we must get right after him!" cried Uncle Ezra. "I only hope we can overtake him before he gets to Cuba. It will be terribly expensive to go there. Now, get up steam, or make anchor, or whatever the proper term is, and sail fast. He may give us the slip."
There was soon activity aboard thePrincess, and a little later the dingy vessel, with her dingy crew, and the oddly-mated occupants of the cabin, were sailing over the course taken by the young millionaire and his chums. Ezra Larabee had undertaken a desperate and peculiar plan to "save" his nephew.
It was not long before the pursuing yacht ran into the same storm felt by those aboard theAlbatross, and, being a smaller and less staunch craft, the one hired by the old man pitched and tossed rather dangerously.
Mr. Larabee had taken to his berth as soon as the ship left the harbor, for he was but an indifferent sailor, and the least motion made him ill.
When the storm came his malady increased, and he thought surely his last hour had come.
"Oh, why did I ever try this plan?" he wailed. "Why did I come to sea? I might have known better. I wish I was back at Dankville.Samanthy didn't want me to come, and I wish I'd heeded her words of warning. Oh, I'm sure I'm going to die. Get a doctor, can't you?"
"There's no doctor aboard," said Ike. "But you'll be all right as soon as it stops blowing. I'll have the cook make some strong coffee for you."
"Maybe that will make me feel better," gasped Mr. Larabee. "Oh, why didn't you get my nephew hid away when you had him in Hamilton Corners that night?" and he turned his face to the wall and groaned.
"Haven't I told you it was because his dog attacked us?" asked Ike, indignantly. "We couldn't fight that dog."
"Why didn't you shoot it? I hate the brute!"
"So do I," murmured Sam, rubbing his leg reflectively. "I'll shoot it the next time I get a chance."
"Do, and I'll give you a dollar extra," spoke Uncle Ezra. "Oh, how miserable I am! Is that coffee never coming?"
"Be here directly," said Ike, grinning cheerfully at his crony, for they were used to rough weather.
And thePrincessstaggered on through the storm, trying to catch up to theAlbatross, while in his berth, a most forlorn figure, Mr. Larabee tossed and moaned in anguish.
Innis Beeby's confident words, that Tim Muldoon would be found did not find echo in fulfilment. A systematic search of the whole interior of the yacht was made without success.
"He couldn't be hiding on deck—that is, maybe hurt, and have fallen under something; could he?" asked Frank Bender.
"We'll look," agreed Dick, as they fairly crept up the companionway, for the rolling and pitching of the yacht made other progress impossible.
It needed but a few glances around the wind-and-water-swept deck to show that Tim was not there. Everything had been made snug, in preparation for the storm, and there was no place where a youth might lie concealed.
"I'm afraid he's gone," spoke Dick, solemnly. "But I'm not going to give up. We'll put back, Captain Barton, and see if we can pick him up. When he went overboard he might have grabbed something to cling to, and still be floating. We'll put back."
"Put back!" exclaimed the commander. "It's hardly possible in the teeth of this wind. The gale is increasing, and our only hope is to run before it. We would barely move trying to make headway against it."
"We're going to put back," insisted Dick, and the captain put the wheel over, theAlbatrossswinging around in a big circle.
Mr. Barton had not exaggerated the strength of the storm. If it had been hard work scudding along before it, aided by the wind, while the screw threshed the water to foam, it was exceedingly difficult to stem the howling wind that whipped the big green waves into spume.
But Dick's yacht was a gallant craft, and she staggered back over the course she had just covered, making better work at it than many a larger vessel would have done, for she was not so high in the water as to offer much resistance to the wind.
On either side of the rail, while a lookout was stationed in the bow, the boys watched for a sight of Tim. They looked for a black speck amid the foam of the waters, but saw none. When they had gone back far enough to cover the point where the newsboy had been missed, Dick gave the order to swing around again, and run before the storm. The yacht rode more easily at once, and she was not boarded by so many smashing seas.
Even then Dick would not give up, but he andthe others peered forward into the mist of rain with eager eyes, which, every now and then, were blinded by the salt spray.
They ate dinner in gloomy silence, occasionally some one making a remark about Tim's good qualities, and his jolly disposition.
"It makes me feel like turning back, and not making the trip," said Dick, "to have bad luck like this at the very start."
"It is too bad," agreed Beeby, "but maybe he'll be picked up by some other vessel, and saved. If he went overboard he might have grabbed something, and be floating. We could hardly see him in the rough water."
"Let's look on deck and see if any life buoys are missing, or anything else gone that he might have taken overboard with him," suggested Frank, and another hasty search was made. But it only increased the uneasy feeling, since none of the articles was missing, and gloom once more settled down.
The storm did not abate in violence all the rest of that day, and the boys sought their bunks with the yacht rolling and tossing on a heaving sea.
It was midnight, when the watch was changing, that Dick, who could not sleep, from thinking of Tim, heard voices in Captain Barton's room. One he recognized as that of the commander, and the other was Widdy's.
"I tell you I heard it, as plain as I'm hearin' you now," the old salt was saying. "I couldn'tbe mistaken. It's in the after compartment, near the shaft tunnel, an' some of the crew heard it, too. It's the ghost of that mermaid, sir. She took the form of a lobsterman just to fool us that time, but she slipped aboard later in the fog, an' now it means death to some one aboard. I knowed we'd have no good luck from meetin' that there mermaid. I heard her voice, I tell you, captain."
Dick, who was partly dressed, slipped on his coat and trousers, and staggered to the captain's cabin. There he saw Widdy, looking wild and disheveled from his watch on deck, and plainly alarmed from some other emotion than seeing the big green waves.
"What is it?" asked the young millionaire. "I heard you saying something about a mermaid, Widdy, and——"
"Yes," answered the old sailor, with a bow. "That's right, Mr. Dick. It was my watch on deck, an' I was just comin' below. One of the men from the engine room come up to say there was a peculiar noise in the shaft tunnel. I thought there might be somethin' wrong, so I called Mr. Midwell, whose trick it was next, an' I turned the wheel over to him, an' come below. Me and Jim Carter, the chief engineer, went into the after compartment, sir, an' there we both heard it."
"Heard what?" asked Captain Barton.
"The mermaid groanin', sir. That was her,disguised as a lobsterman, an' she slipped aboard to bring death an' destruction. That's why that poor lad fell overboard. It'll be some of our turns next."
"Nonsense!" cried Dick. "What you heard was probably the creaking and squeaking of the ship's timbers and machinery in the storm."
"Do ship's timbers groan like a man dyin', sir, an' call for help, sir?" inquired Widdy, solemnly. "Answer me that! Do the machinery cry for help? Answer me that!"
"Did you hear some one calling for help?" asked Dick, quickly.
"I did, sir."
"Wasn't it some one on deck, or didn't you imagine it?" inquired Captain Barton.
"I did not, sir," replied the old sailor, doggedly. "It was in the after compartment, sir."
"And what sort of a voice was it?" asked Dick, "and what did it say?"
"It was a voice, sir, like some one in pain, and it called 'Help! Help! Help!' three times, just like that."
"Well, why didn't you look further, see who it was, and help 'em?" demanded the captain. "Maybe it was one of the crew, who had fallen and broken his leg. Why didn't you look further?"
"Because, sir," answered Widdy, "it ain't healthy to help mermaids, an' Jim Carter an' me ran out as soon as we heard her voice. It wasthe mermaid, sure, an' all on this ship are doomed, Davy Jones has rooms all ready for us in his locker."
"Don't be an idiot!" cried Captain Barton, sharply. "There are no such things as mermaids."
"That lobsterman was one," insisted Widdy. "He vanished into fog as soon as he got out of sight, an' turned into a mermaid, an' come aboard. She's here now."
"I suppose the lobsters he left us were mermaid lobsters, too," suggested the commander, trying to make the old sailor see how foolish was his superstition.
"I don't know nothin' about that, but there's a mermaid below, in the after compartment, near the shaft tunnel, sir, an' I know it!" insisted the old salt, shaking his head.
Dick Hamilton gave a sudden cry.
"Captain Barton, I believe I know what that is!" he exclaimed. "Come on," and he made his way toward the stern of the yacht, while the commander, wondering what was going to happen, followed.
His excitement increasing at every step, Dick hurried to where Widdy had said the mysterious sounds came from. As the young millionaire and the captain entered the compartment they heard distinct groans, and a weak voice cried:
"Help me out! Help me out!"
"It's him!" cried Dick. "Get a lantern and help him out!"
"Help who out?" demanded Captain Barton.
"Tim Muldoon!" shouted Dick. "He's in there—in the shaft tunnel—hurt, most likely—that's where he's been all this while! Hurry and get him out! Show a light!"
Widdy, whose courage had returned with the presence of Dick and the captain, passed forward a lantern he had. Dick crawled into a dark passage, which was partly occupied by the long propeller shaft of the yacht. A moment later he uttered a cry.
"Tim! Tim! We're going to get you out! We thought you were drowned! Come and help me, captain! Tim's hurt!"
"Oh, I'm so glad you came," spoke the newsboy, faintly. "I—I thought no one would ever come. I—I crawled in here——" and then his voice went off into a weak whisper.
"He's fainted!" cried the young millionaire.
They soon had Tim out of his uncomfortable prison, and in his berth, where he quickly revived under the care of Captain Barton, who was a sort of doctor and surgeon combined, as indeed every seaman of ability is usually.
Tim's eyes slowly opened, and the color came back into his pale cheeks. They had taken off his heavy oilskins, which he wore when found in the after compartment. He looked around on the kind faces of Dick and his chums, who were crowded about the stateroom door.
"I'm still here—am I?" asked Tim, faintly.
"Yes, and we're glad to see you," spoke Dick. "We thought sure you had gone to pay Davy Jones a visit, as Widdy would say. But whatever in the world possessed you to do it, Tim? Were you in there all the while?"
"I guess so," answered the newsboy, while a spasm of pain shot over his face, as a lurch of the ship wrenched him in his berth. "Something's the matter with my ankle," he went on.
"Bad sprain," said Captain Barton, briefly. "That, and the knock you got on the head, made you insensible. You had a bad time of it. There's a lump on your head as big as a coil of rope."
"How did you come to go in there?" inquired Dick.
"Just to see what was there," replied Tim, with a faint smile. "I heard the engineer talking about the shaft tunnel, and the thrust block, and the propeller, and I wanted to see what they looked like. So I crawled in——"
"You couldn't see the propeller from inside the yacht," broke in Paul. "The screw is outside."
"I know that, now," went on Tim. "But I wanted to see whatwasin there. There wasn't anything else to do, and as the storm kept us all below decks, I thought I'd do a little exploring. I put on my oilskins, to keep my clothes clean, and crawled in the back part of the yacht. I found the shaft, and saw it going around, and then I must have slipped on some oil, or something, and fallen. Anyhow, it all got black, and I didn't know anything for a long time. Then I woke up, and felt a terrible pain in my leg and head. I tried to move, and crawl out, but I couldn't. I called, but no one answered."
"The noise of the storm was too loud," suggested Henry.
"Maybe," assented Tim. "Then I must have fainted again, and, when I got conscious once more, I yelled louder. Then I heard some one running away——"
"That was me," confessed Widdy. "I thought you was a mermaid."
"I wish I had been one," replied Tim, with arueful smile. "Then I'd have known better than to crawl in where I did. But I kept on calling, though I was getting weaker, and then——"
"Then we came," finished Dick. "Now, don't think any more about it. We'll doctor you and feed you up, and—well, don't go in there again."
"Don't worry—I won't," promised Tim, and then he took some quieting medicine which the captain mixed for him.
They left him to sleep off the effects of his ordeal, and the boys gathered in the main cabin, for a sort of impromptu thanksgiving meeting. The atmosphere of gloom had been dispelled, and they were all happy again, for the thought of one of the members of the yachting party being drowned would have spoiled the whole outing.
Tim was much better the next day, and the storm had blown itself out, so that he could limp up on deck. There the bracing air brought back the color to his cheeks, and he was soon himself again. The swelling in his ankle went down, and he was able to get about nicely on a crutch made by Widdy.
"We've got two cripples aboard now," said the old salt, with a grin. "Between us both, we'll make an able seaman, though."
Meanwhile the yacht was slipping through the water at a good rate of speed, lessening the knots between her and the island of Cuba. The boys found so much that was new and interesting to occupy them, that time passed all too quickly.
"Do you think you'll spend much time in Cuba?" asked Innis Beeby of Dick one afternoon, as they sat on deck.
"Well, I want to make a good attempt to find mother's relatives, and it may not be an easy task. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I've got a new camera, and I want to get some good views—that's all."
"Oh, I fancy you'll have all the chance you want. But if you've got a camera, why didn't you say so before? You can take some pictures here on board. I meant to bring one, but I forgot it. Bring out yours and snap some of us."
Which the fat cadet did, posing Dick and his chums in all sorts of attitudes, more or less nautical. The crew, too, came in for their share of pictures, and they were snapped collectively and individually, doing all sorts of things, from clambering up the shrouds to swabbing down the decks. Then Captain Barton had to pose as he was taking a noon observation, while Dick was taken in so many different styles that finally he rebelled, when he was requested by Beeby to don a ragged suit, and stand in the bows, with his hand shading his eyes, to represent a shipwrecked mariner looking anxiously for a sail.
But it was jolly fun, making snapshots, and even Grit and Gritty had to pose, while Hans, the cook was so delighted with the result of his snapshot, that he would have stood on his head for Beeby. For the cadet developed and finished thepictures on board, improvising a dark room from a closet.
Down the coast went the yacht, past St. Augustine, Jupiter Inlet and other places on the Florida coast, and it seemed as if the cruise would be run off without serious incident, for they were nearing Cuba. But, one day, when in sight of the Bemini Keys, a group of little islands about sixty miles off Miami, Jim Carter, the chief engineer, hurried on deck to report to Dick and Captain Barton a break in the machinery.
"Is it serious?" asked the young millionaire, fearing for his fine yacht.
"No, only it will mean a delay of a day or so. My men can repair it."
"And will we have to lie-to all that while?" Dick wanted to know.
"We can use the sails, though we'll not make much speed," put in the commander.
"Oh, well, time is no object," remarked Dick, with an air of relief, and then, to the no small delight of the boys, the steamer became a sailing yacht, and they learned many new points in seamanship.
But, as the captain had said, they did not make very good time, for the sail area was small for a boat the size of theAlbatross, and at times they barely had steerageway, for the winds were light and baffling.
It was on the second day of the machinery being out of commission (for the engineers had notbeen able to repair it as speedily as they had hoped to) that, as Dick and his chums were reclining in deck chairs, the lookout exclaimed:
"Sail ho!"
"Where away?" demanded Dick, with a seaman's instinct.
"Astern, sir, and she's overhauling us fast. She's a small steamer."
They all looked to where a volume of black smoke indicated the presence of another vessel. The smoke became more pronounced, and, in a little while, the hull of a steamer was visible. The boys watched her through glasses. She seemed to be sailing the same course as was theAlbatross, and was likely to pass close by. But, as she neared the sailing yacht, the steamer suddenly changed her course, and sheered off. She was, however, close enough to enable the boys to read her name without the aid of the glass.
"Princess!" exclaimed Paul Drew. "Why, Dick, isn't that the vessel on which they attacked you?"
Dick did not answer for a minute. He had snatched up the binoculars and was pointing them at the passing vessel.
"It might be the same one," he murmured, "yet the name is common enough. I guess——" He stopped suddenly. The glasses came down from his eyes, and he stared at thePrincess. Then he cried out:
"By Jinks, fellows! It doesn't seem possible!"
"What's the matter?" asked Beeby. "See your best girl aboard her, Dicky, my lad?"
"No," answered the young millionaire, "but if I didn't know that he was afraid of the water, I'd say that my Uncle Ezra was aboard that vessel," and once more Dick took a long observation through the glasses.
"Your Uncle Ezra?" repeated Paul.
"Yes," went on Dick. "See that man standing near the rail? The man with the little bunch of white whiskers on his chin?"
"I see him," assented Paul, who had taken the binoculars from his chum.
"Well, he's the very image of my respected relative, only, of course, it can't be him."
At that moment the man at the rail seemed aware that he was under observation. He quickly disappeared from view, and thePrincesspassed on.
"I wonder if that could have been Uncle Ezra?" murmured Dick. "But, of course, it couldn't be. What would he be doing away off here?"
If Dick had only known!
The machinery of theAlbatrosswas repaired by the next day, and then the welcome throb and tremor of the screw replaced the stillness and quietness of the sails. But the boys welcomed the change, for, though it was ideal to slip through the summer sea like some great fish, without noise, they had become used to the swifter motion, and liked it.
"Well, we'll soon be at Havana," remarked Captain Barton, one fine moonlight night, when it was too lovely to go to one's stateroom. "Have you any special orders, Captain Hamilton?"
"None, except that we'll stay there until I can make some inquiries of Don Ferdinand Hondora, the lawyer, regarding my mother's relatives."
"And what after that?"
"I don't know, exactly. It will depend on what the lawyer says. We may cruise about, go to another part of Cuba, or go off camping on some of the keys. We'll decide when we get to Havana. I may have to take these Cubans back to New York."
The completion of the first part of the voyage was made in good time, and one morning, as the boys came up on deck Captain Barton, pointing to a line of haze on the horizon, said:
"There lies Cuba!"
"Good!" exclaimed Dick. "Now, we'll see what happens."
They at once got ready for a landing, though it would not be for some hours yet. Every one on the yacht, though the voyage had been most pleasant, was glad of the prospective change. Hans, the cook, got up a specially fine dinner in honor of the occasion.
"Haven't you anything for Grit and the puppy, Hans?" asked Dick, as he passed the galley. "They're both hungry."
"Sure, I feeds 'em," answered the German, who was cutting up some meat from pieces brought from the refrigerator, for theAlbatrosswas fitted up with an artificial ice-making machine. "I gifs dem some nice bieces of meat," went on Hans.
A few minutes after this the young millionaire was startled to hear snarls, growls and barks coming from the direction of the galley, while, mingled with the noise made by the dogs was the voice of the cook crying:
"Don't! Stop I dells you, Grit! Behafe yourself alretty now! I did not mean to onsuld you. I—I—Oh, Herr Hamilton! Come quick alretty yet! Your bulldog will devour me! Oh! Ouch!"
A moment later a very much frightenedGerman cook burst out on the deck. He was carrying a plate of meat-scraps, and behind him, growling and snarling, came Grit, his legs working in and out like the pistons of a steam engine. But, as the animal's legs were short, and as the cook had long ones, the race might not prove so unequal.
"What's the matter?" cried Dick. "Stand still, Hans! Grit won't hurt you!"
"He vunt; hey?" cried the German. "Vell, I ain't goin' to take no chances—no, sir, Herr Hamilton! I runs; dot's vot I do! Stop chasin' me!" the cook cried, turning to glance at Grit. But this nearly proved disastrous for him, as he stumbled over a rope, and only recovered himself as Grit almost reached him.
"What does he want?" shouted Dick. "Here, Grit! Stop it! Come here! What does he want, Hans?"
"He vants me, but, py Jimminity, he don't got me, not if I knows it alretty yet!" responded the German. "I fools him!" and with that the cook, dropping his plate of meat, sprang up into the shrouds of the aftermast.
At once Grit lost interest in the chase, and stopped to eat the scraps of meat, while Hans looked down at him from his perch of safety.
"There, you see," said Dick, laughing. "The meat was all he wanted. Grit was hungry."
"Ha! I knows pretty vell alretty dot he voshungry," admitted Hans. "But I t'ought he vos hungry after me; so!"
"He was hungry after you," cried Paul Drew, who had witnessed the chase, and he doubled up with laughter.
"You can come down now," suggested Dick. "Grit won't hurt you."
"Vait until he has all dot meat eaten up, den I comes down," replied Hans. "He vunt be hungry so much alretty," and he would not descend until Grit, licking his chops, had gone to lie down in the sun.
"How did it happen?" asked the young millionaire. "I never knew Grit to chase any of his friends."
"I ain't no friend to him—not no more—no, sir," declared Hans, firmly. "I vos goin' to feed der dogs, as you tolt me, Herr Hamilton, und I got der meat, und I gif der little dog some first, und den your big dog, he growled avay down in his throat, und he took after me, un—vell—I runs, mit der meat—dot's all; see?"
"Yes, I see," spoke Dick. "Grit was jealous because you fed the puppy before you fed him. Grit is used to eating at the first table. He didn't mean any harm."
"Dot's all right, only me an' him ain't friends no more, dot's all," said Hans, with an injured air, as he descended to the deck. "I vos goin' to gif him—Ach Himmel!Der soup is burnin'! I schmell her!" and, with a cry of anguish, he rantoward the galley, where he was soon rattling away amid his pots and pans.
If the soup was burned no one noticed it at the excellent dinner which the cook served later. He seemed to have gotten all over his fright, and he even spoke kindly to Grit, who appeared to have forgotten his temporary lack of manners.
TheAlbatrossdocked late that afternoon, and, with expressions of delight and wonder at the sight of what, to them, was practically a foreign city, Dick and his chums went ashore. They were soon in the midst of as much bustle and excitement as the slow-moving natures of the residents of Havana permit.
"By Jove! This is great, old man!" exclaimed Beeby, as he waddled up the pier, with a smile on his fat, good-natured face. "I've never been in Cuba. There'll be lots of new sights, and I can get some stunning pictures. There's an old man asleep on that bale who will make a good subject," and the stout cadet proceeded to snap the "subject." But, just as he was ready, some one called to the sleeping man. He awoke with a start, gave one look at Beeby and the camera, and, with a Spanish expletive, rolled off the bale, and ran away as fast as his legs would take him.
"Hum! I wasn't going to shoot you!" exclaimed the fat lad in disgust. "Now, I've wasted a film," for he had pressed the button just as the man moved.
The American youths were surrounded by acrowd of natives, who talked rapidly, in "more or less United States" as Dick said. The young millionaire observed Tim looking wonderingly about.
"Miss anything, Tim?" he asked.
"Yes, I don't hear anybody hollerin' 'Extree—Extree!' down here," replied the newsboy, to whom the excitement of an edition, hot from the presses, was lacking.
"No, I fancy extras are few and far between down here," agreed Dick. "But, fellows, I want to go to see that lawyer, so as to know what plans to make. So, if you'll step in here, and have some chocolate on me, I'll leave you for a while, and come back," and the wealthy lad led his companions to a restaurant built partly on the street, with tables in the open air, where soon they were being served, while Mr. Hamilton's son asked his way to the office of the attorney, of whom he wished to make some inquiries regarding the missing Valdez family.
"Ah, Senor Hamilton, I will be most happy to do all in my power for you," remarked Don Ferdinand Hondora, the Spanish lawyer, when he had read slowly through the letter of introduction from the law firm of Blake & Carrington, which epistle Dick handed him. "Most happy to oblige you. You do me an honor to call on me thus, and to-morrow—ormanana—as we Spaniards say—manana, I shall be most happy to set on foot an inquiry to locate the Valdez family."
"Can't you do anything to-day?" asked Dick, who was used to business being attended to promptly.
"To-day, my dear Senor Hamilton? To-day?" and the lawyer looked surprised. "Why, already I am in my office later than I ever stay. It is unusual that I am here to this hour. It just happened so by accident. No, nothing can be done to-day. Perhaps to-morrow—or the next day——"
"Why not to-day?" asked Dick, bluntly. "I am willing to pay——"
"It is not a question of money, dear Senor Hamilton," and Don Ferdinand Hondora shrugged his expressive shoulders, elevated his eyebrows, and made deprecatory gestures with his fat hands; "money does not figure. But now it is the hour for the band to play in the plaza, and I like to listen to it as I sit and sip my chocolate. Business is over long ago for Havana. I shall be most happy to have you join me at the plaza. My carriage will be here shortly."
"Thank you, but I have left my friends, and I must return to them," answered the youthful millionaire. "But I will be here early in the morning, and——"
"Not—er—not too early, if I may venture to suggest such a thing, my dear Senor Hamilton," spoke the lawyer, gently. "I seldom breakfast before ten, and at eleven o'clock I shall be most happy to receive you."
"Very well, eleven o'clock then," conceded Dick. "And then we can take the rest of the morning, and the whole afternoon, to looking into this matter."
"Pardon me, senor, but did I hear you aright—thewholeafternoon, did you say?" and Don Ferdinand Hondora looked pained.
"Yes—why not?"
"Ah, but Senor Hamilton forgets that there is the noon siesta to be taken into consideration. One must have the siesta or—well, business is never done during the siesta or sleep hour," andonce more the Spanish lawyer shrugged his shoulders, raised his eyebrows, and threw his hands out in front of him as if he had no further use for them.
"Well," remarked Dick, with a sigh, "when you're in Rome, you have to do as the Romans do, I suppose."
"That's it, Senor Hamilton!" cried the attorney, with a relieved laugh. "And when one is in Havana, he goes to hear the band, he sips his chocolate, and he takes his siesta at the usual hour. To break the customs is to—well, it is never done," and once more he went through his little performance, which seemed to save him considerable in the way of talk.
"Then I'll meet you here at eleven o'clock," added the youth, as he turned to go. "I'll leave these papers, which my father gave me, with you, and, if you should happen to hear any news this afternoon, or evening, you might send word down to my yacht—theAlbatross. We're going to stay on board to-night, and put up at a hotel to-morrow. So, if you have any word——"
"Pardon me, Senor Hamilton, it is not likely that I shall have any word of the missing family, who are distant relatives of your late respected mother, to-night—hardly possible. All business is over in Havana long ago. Now, I go to hear the band, and to drink my chocolate, and I would only be too happy to have your pleasurable company."
"No, thank you, I must get back," answered Dick, and, having witnessed Don Ferdinand Hondora give once more his shadow-pictures with his shoulders, eyebrows and fingers, Dick parted from him, after an elaborate series of bows and handshakes.
"This life is too slow for me," remarked our hero, as he got outside, and made his way back to where he had left his chums. "Business from eleven to twelve, and from three to four, I presume. Two hours a day! Whew! If dad was down here he'd turn things upside down, and as for Uncle Ezra, he'd have a conniption fit! Asiesta! Good land! I'm beginning to feel sleepy myself!"
The youth walked rapidly along, thereby attracting much attention, for his pace was entirely different from that of the slow-moving and leisure-loving Cubans and Spaniards.
Dick found his chums waiting for him, and they had had their fill of the very excellent chocolate served to them. The young millionaire explained his visit to the lawyer, and amused them with his account of the easy-going methods in vogue.
"Think of a lawyer closing up his office to go to hear the band play!" exclaimed Dick.
"It sure is odd," agreed Beeby. "If it was a ball game now, it wouldn't be so bad."
"But there's nothing to hinder us from going to hear the band; is there?" asked Paul Drew.
"Especially as we're very likely to see somepretty girls," added Frank Bender. "I say let's go."
"All right," agreed Dick, always ready to fall in with the wishes of his guests. "I'll call a couple of carriages. It seems that no one who can afford to ride walks in Havana."
Accordingly, in easy-moving, open carriages, drawn by rather sorry-looking specimens of horses, the lads were soon rolling down to the open plaza, where a marine band was already making music. The boys thoroughly enjoyed the varied strains, and they were equally interested in the scenes all around them. The day was fine, and a large throng was out, many Cubans and Spaniards, and not a few Americans strolling about, while more were in open carriages. Frank's remark about the pretty girls was not a bit exaggerated. There were hundreds of them, dark, languishing Spanish beauties, some of whom favored our friends with quick glances from their snapping, black eyes.
The boys dined in a Havana restaurant that evening, where they saw more to interest them, while the highly spiced food was a source of some conjecture to them.
"Guess I'll have to have some more water, Dick," spoke Tim Muldoon, after he had emptied several glasses.
"What's the matter; too much salt in something?" asked Frank. "I noticed it myself."
"No, it's too much pepper," replied thenewsboy. "Gee-horse! But I struck a mouthful of the red kind that kicks, just then!" and he drained his glass, which a waiter filled, the man laughing silently the while.
"I guess we'll have to get used to it," remarked Dick. "I should think, though, that, eating so much red pepper as these folks do, that they'd have a little more motion to them. 'To-morrow' seems to answer for everything. I couldn't stand it for very long at a stretch."
They spent that night on the yacht, after an evening in the plaza, where the band continued to play. The next day, at eleven o'clock, Dick again visited Don Ferdinand Hondora, who leisurely began to examine the documents regarding the Valdez family.
"It will be a difficult piece of work," he remarked finally, "but I think I can promise you a report in a month, Senor Hamilton."
"A month! I've got to have it inside of a week!" cried Dick, and, after much argument, and lifting of his eyebrows, shrugging of his shoulders and throwing out of his hands, remarking the while that such a thing—such haste—was never heard of in Havana, the lawyer agreed to do his best.
It was two weeks later before he made his final report, with Dick importuning him every day, for, after the yacht had been tied up at Havana seven days, our hero and his chums found they had exhausted the possibility of amusement in thatCuban city. True, they made excursions inland, and enjoyed the slow-going, easy life, but Dick wanted action, and his plan of going to some lonely island, and camping out, seemed to strike his friends as just right.
So it was with no little satisfaction that the young millionaire was informed one day, by Don Ferdinand Hondora, that the case was closed, as far as he was concerned.
"I have made diligent inquiry, Senor Hamilton," spoke the Spanish advocate, "and your Valdez family is not in this vicinity. They did live here, but they left about the time this island was acquired by the United States. There was much confusion of records at that time, and the best I can learn is that the family now consists of father and son, the Senors Miguel and Raphael Valdez."
"But where are they now?" asked Dick, impatiently.
"Ah, now we are coming to it," spoke the Spaniard, with his usual course of motions. Dick thought he might have "come to it" some time ago. "I learn," the lawyer went on, "that they were last heard of in Santiago de Cuba. If Senor Hamilton is pleased to go there next week, or the week after——"
"Next week?" cried Dick. "I'll start to-night!"
"Ah, such haste!" murmured the Spaniard, as he looked at his watch. "Very well. It is now the hour for the band to play, and for me to sip my chocolate, but if you will come in to-morrow Iwill be pleased to give you a letter to a lawyer friend of mine in Santiago. Come to-morrow——"
"Can't you give me the letter now?" interrupted Dick.
"Ah, Senor Hamilton, such haste! Already the band is playing, and I——"
"If I can't get the letter now, I'll have to leave without it, Senor Hondora. I'm in a hurry!"
"Ah, Santa Maria!" The lawyer's head nearly disappeared amid his shoulders, so high did he lift them, and his eyebrows were a half-circle, but he sat down, and slowly wrote out a letter by hand, giving it to Dick.
"Don't you use a typewriter?" asked the young millionaire.
"A typewriter? The saints forbid! It is too rapid—too—er—what you Americans call swift," explained the attorney, with a smile. "There is no need of such haste," and pocketing the generous fee which Dick paid, the lawyer bowed our hero out, with a look of relief on his face.
Five minutes later Don Ferdinand Hondora was in his carriage, riding slowly on his way to the plaza, to hear the band play, while Dick was hurrying toward his yacht.
"Well, the first part of my search ended in failure," he said. "Now to try Santiago."
That night theAlbatrossput to sea, on her cruise to the other side of Cuba.
Dick and his chums spent the better part of a week making the voyage around to the chief city near the southeastern end of Cuba. The weather was fine, and there were many novel sights to attract their attention. They passed several other vessels, and with some Dick and Paul exchanged wireless greetings. Dick sent several messages home, as did also his chums, and there were some aerograms in reply. Mr. Hamilton communicated with his son, and commended his plan of making a further effort to locate Mrs. Hamilton's relatives.
"But if you don't find them in Santiago, what will you do?" asked Beeby, when the boys and their host had talked over their plans.
"Go off on a little trip, come back, and try the next likely place," answered the young millionaire, grimly. "I'm going to find them."
As theAlbatrossswung into Santiago Bay, past the lighthouse at the entrance of the harbor, those on board of the trim yacht would have beeninterested if they had known how closely they were observed from the deck of another vessel, hidden from view around the point. And the name painted on the bows of the hidden craft wasPrincess, though stress of weather had almost obliterated it.
Narrowly did an old man on the deck of thePrincesswatch Dick's yacht glide up the harbor. He was a man with a little bunch of white whiskers on his chin, and they moved up and down when he talked.
"Well," he remarked slowly, as he laid aside a glass through which he had been peering, "them fellers in Havana told us true. My nephew did sail for Santiago, and here he is."
"And I said we'd beat him here," remarked a man standing on deck.
"So you did, Sam Newton, so you did," assented Ezra Larabee, "an', because we got here first, I'll pay you the ten dollars extra, as I promised."
"When?" demanded Ike Murdock.
"Jest as soon as——"
"As soon as the kidnappin' is done?" asked Simon Scardale.
"Hush! Don't use that word!" exclaimed Mr. Larabee. "Ain't I told you this ain't a regular kidnappin'; not in the eyes of the law. It's for my nephew's good."
"Well, we'll soon have him, if things go right," muttered Ike. "Now, what's the program, Mr.Larabee? Shall we follow that yacht up the bay or stay back? We've laid here long enough."
"I should say we had," admitted the crabbed old man, with a look of anguish, as his hand felt of a wallet in his coat. "And expenses going on something frightful all the while. Never mind, I'll take it out of my Nephew Richard's money, that's what I'll do. I hoped we could catch him in Havana. Why didn't you?" and the old man looked reproachfully at those whom he had hired to do the risky work.
"Didn't have no chance," murmured Guy Fletcher. "But we'll get him now."
"I hope so, and end this terrible expense I'm under," went on Mr. Larabee. "Better start the ship, Ike. No use burning coal, and standing still."
With ill-concealed contempt for their employer, the two men went to give the necessary orders, and soon thePrincesswas following Dick's yacht up the harbor. There were so many vessels moving to and fro that there was little danger of detection.
All unconscious of the nearness of his uncle, and the unscrupulous men and youths whom Mr. Larabee had engaged, Dick and his chums went ashore as soon as theAlbatrosswas docked.
"Well, it certainly feels good to be on dry land again," remarked Beeby, as he got his camera ready for some snapshots. "I hope I get some good pictures."
"And I hope I find those people I'm searching for," said Dick. "Say, if you fellows will amuse yourselves a bit, I'll look up this other lawyer," he went on. "I guess it will take him about a week to get started, and the sooner I begin the quicker I'll be through."
"I guess we'll have some cocoanut milk for a change," suggested Paul Drew, when Dick had ridden away in a dilapidated carriage, toward the lawyer's office, and the cadet led the others into a place where a specialty was made of cocoanut milk, drawn directly from the fruit, the top of which the clerk sliced off with a big knife, not unlike amachetein shape.
"Fine!" gurgled Henry Darby, as the delicious beverage trickled down his throat.
"Dandy!" was the opinion of the others.
They strolled about the city, and after an hour of sightseeing, Beeby proposed that they go down to the dock, where Dick had agreed to meet them on his return from the lawyer's office.
As the lads approached the pier, Henry, who was in the lead, called out:
"Why, there's Dick now, waiting for us."
The others looked, and saw a lad of exactly Dick's build and height gazing at them. And, what is more, his features bore a strong resemblance to those of the young millionaire. But a glance at his clothes showed that they were not such as were worn by our hero.
"That isn't Dick," said Beeby.
"That's so, but it looked an awful sight like him," agreed the young iron merchant, with a laugh. "I beg your pardon," he added, for the youth had seen the attention paid to him.
"Granted, senor," was the reply, and the boys started, for his voice had tones in it resembling Dick's. A nearer view made his features seem even more like those of the young millionaire, but he was darker in complexion. Still, had he worn better clothes, and had he and Dick stood side by side, more than a casual glance would have been needed to distinguish the difference between them, for Dick was almost as dark as a Spaniard or Cuban.
"Dick's double," as the chums dubbed him, moved away, and, soon afterward, our hero appeared. He was amused at the account of some one who looked like him, and said he hoped the unknown would not run up any accounts in the name of Hamilton.
"Well, how did you make out with the lawyer?" asked Paul.
"About the same as with Don Ferdinand Hondora. He says it will take two weeks to make inquiries, and when I tried to cut him down to one he nearly fainted on my hands. But, come on, let's go aboard, and report to Captain Barton."
Dick and his friends spent that evening wandering about the city. They had engaged some carriages to drive them to various points of interest, but, at the last moment, Dick changed theprogram, and proposed a visit to the opera house, where a musical comedy was being presented. The boys thoroughly enjoyed the play, and, as they came out with the crowd of pleasure-seekers, they were aware that something unusual was taking place in the street.
There were a number of police officers and soldiers hurrying to and fro, and many commands in excited Spanish were being given, while, in the distance, shots were heard.
"What's it all about? Is there a fire?" asked Henry.
"Maybe it's an extra edition out," suggested Tim Muldoon, hopefully.
"No, somebody walked along in a hurry, and the people can't get over it," declared Beeby.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick of one of the drivers of the carriages he had hired for himself and his chums.
"Kidnapping!" exclaimed the man, who spoke fairly good English.
"Kidnapping!" repeated Dick. "Who was taken?"
"I don't know. Some young fellow, I heard the police say. It seems that some men off a yacht came ashore, and followed him. He ran, and tried to get away, but they took after him, and, just as he got in front of this theatre, they grabbed him, put him in a carriage and drove off. The police rushed up, but——"
"They were too slow," finished Paul, with a laugh.
"But why did they kidnap him?" persisted Dick.
"I do not know. For ransom, perhaps. It is sometimes done. He was a young fellow, and, maybe wealthy, though his dress did not show it. But will the senors be pleased to ride farther with me?"
"Guess we might as well," assented Dick. "A kidnapping, eh? I'd like to hear more about it, and know who the fellow was."
"It will be in the gazette to-morrow—or the next day," said the driver, calmly.
"Yes—alwaysmanana," murmured Dick.
"If it was in New York, there'd be an extra out about it by this time," declared Tim, in disgust. "This is a great country—not!"
And Dick and his chums drove back to the yacht, little dreaming what an effect on all of them the kidnapping was to have, and that very soon.
While the police and soldiers of Santiago were hurrying about like mad, trying to find some trace of the kidnappers who had acted so boldly, there might have been seen, driving rapidly down a dark and unfrequented street toward the water-front, a closed carriage. The man on the seat was urging his steeds to faster speed in response to calls from occupants of the coach, which, as the vehicle passed under a dim lamp, could be seen to contain two men and a boy.
"Well, we got away with him all right, Ike," spoke the taller of the two men, as he looked at the youth sitting between them.
"Yes, and he didn't make near as much fuss as I expected. From what happened when we tried it last time, I thought sure he'd put up a stiff fight. And where was his dog, I wonder, Sam?"
"That's right, I didn't see the brute anywhere on shore. But I'm glad of it. Once to feel his teeth is enough. Hurry up there, driver, whatever your name is, or they'll be after us. Oldman Larabee will be glad enough to see us, and get started out to sea again, so keep moving."
"Si, senor," answered the driver, and he lashed the horses, though the animals seemed to be doing their best.
"Itissort of curious he didn't make more of a fuss," remarked Ike, glancing at the youth huddled up between him and his confederate.
"Maybe he's waiting until he gets a good chance to spring out," suggested Sam, taking a firmer grip on the kidnapped youth.
"He'd better not try it!" fairly growled Ike. "Look here, my wealthy friend," he went on, snarling the words into the ear of the frightened and shrinking youth, "don't try any of your funny tricks now, or my partner and I will be forced to take extreme measures, as they say in the books. We'll do it, too, no matter if your Uncle Ezra did warn us to be careful, and not harm you. You've given us trouble enough, and we won't stand for any more nonsense; will we, Sam?"
"That's right. But he won't have much more chance. We're almost at the pier, and we'll soon be aboard the yacht. Then——"
"Pardon, senors!" exclaimed the lad in the carriage, and then followed a question in rapid Spanish.
"Here, drop that kind of lingo," growled Ike. "We don't understand anything but plain United States talk."
"Pardon, senors," spoke the youth again, gently, but with an accent of fear in his tones, and this time he used fairly good English. "Pardon, but you are taking me to a yacht; yes?"
"Sure—to your Uncle Ezra," answered Sam.
"I have no Uncle Ezra."
"No Uncle Ezra! Come, that's a good one!" exclaimed Ike. "But I s'pose you're joking. That's why you talked Spanish to us. No Uncle Ezra, eh? Next you'll be telling us your father isn't a millionaire."
"He is not, senors," was the simple answer, and the youth could hardly restrain the sobs in his voice. "I am the son of a poor man, by name—er—Alantrez," and the youth appeared to hesitate. "Why are you taking me away?" he went on. "If it is for ransom, it will be useless, as we are poor—my father and I."
"Poor! Ha! Ha! That's pretty juicy!" chuckled Sam. "I wish I was as poor as you and your father are, kiddo!"
"Same here," added Ike.
"But you have no right to take me away like this," declared the youth, with more spirit. "It is infamous! It is wrong! And when the police hear of it you will suffer."
"We don't care a fig for the police of Cuba!" declared Ike. "We walked away, right under their very noses, with you, and all they did was to rush about, waving their swords and firing their revolvers in the air, like a lot of kids at aFourth of July celebration. Police! Huh! We don't worry about them!"
"But what do you want with me?" persisted the lad.
"Haven't I told you that your Uncle Ezra Larabee wants to have a talk with you," said Sam. "He's afraid you're wasting your money, and he wants to sort of supervise it. He claims he has that right, being your mother's brother, as long as your father won't do it."
"You are pleased to speak in riddles, senor," remarked the youth with dignity. "I repeat that I have no Uncle Ezra Larabee. That is no Cuban name. Also, my mother, who is among the saints, she had no brother. Likewise I am not rich—I wish I was. I am only Pedro Alantrez, as I have said."
"Now, don't waste any more words talking like that," suggested Sam Newton. "Do you mean to say you're not Dick Hamilton, the millionaire?"
"Certainly not, senor," declared the youth, with dignity. Just then the carriage approached one of the few street lights. The two men peered forward, and looked full in the face of their captive.
"Well, that's pretty good!" announced Sam. "Take a close look at him, Ike. Isn't he Dick Hamilton?"
"He sure is," was the firm response of Ike Murdock. "I've seen him too often lately, and at close quarters, to be mistaken. But here we are onthe pier. I hope Guy and Simon are waiting with the boat, and we'll soon be away from this half-civilized country."
The carriage came to a stop, after rumbling over the plank flooring of the pier, and the two men alighted, fairly dragging their captive after them. The lad hung back, and a cry of protest and fear came to his lips. Then, seeming to feel that he was called upon to be brave, he drew himself up proudly, and said:
"You need not drag me, senors. I will go with you, but you will regret your action. You are under a great mistake."
"Stow your talk," commanded Ike, roughly. "If we're making a mistake we're getting paid for it, and you needn't be so high and mighty with us. 'Senors' be hanged! Talk English!"
The lad did not answer, but followed his captors, who had him by an arm on either side. Sam flung the driver of the coach some money, and the vehicle rumbled off in the darkness.
"Now, if Guy and Simon are waiting, we'll be all right," murmured Sam. As they approached the stringpiece he gave a cautious whistle, which was answered from a small boat lying out a little distance from the wharf. The craft was rowed in, and a few seconds later the two men with their prisoner were aboard, while Guy Fletcher and Simon Scardale handled the oars, and sent the boat out toward the yachtPrincess.
"Did you get him?" asked Simon, when they were well out from the shore.
"Sure," answered Sam, "though he says he isn't Dick Hamilton."
"You knowme, don't you, Dick?" asked Simon, with a sneering laugh.
The captive returned no answer.
As the rowboat approached the yacht, a figure could be seen leaning over the rail—the figure of an old man.
"Did you get him?" he called in a cautious whisper, as the craft came alongside the accommodation ladder.
"Sure thing," answered Ike.
The five were on deck shortly, and Mr. Larabee, approaching the youth who had been kidnapped, said:
"I'm sorry, Nephew Richard, that I had to act this way, but it's for your own good, as you will come to acknowledge in time. It is done to prevent you from making a beggar of yourself. Now, if you will come below, I'll explain my plans to you. My, but I'm glad this chase is over! I had a hard time to get you—me and er—me and these friends of mine. But now I have you, and we'll go back home. Yachting is terribly expensive—terribly!"
With a sigh, the old man led the way to the cabin. The others, including the captive, followed. The latter maintained a grim silence.
In the well-lighted apartment Uncle Ezraturned to behold his nephew. He looked once, and started. Twice, and he threw up his hands in amazement. Then he cried:
"Land o' Goshen! You've got the wrong boy! What does this mean? This isn't my nephew, Richard Hamilton! You've made a terrible mistake! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Now, I'll be sued for damages!"
"A mistake?" echoed Ike Murdock.
"A mistake?" faltered Sam Newton.
"Mistake?" chorused Guy and Simon.
They all took a good look at the youth whom they had kidnapped. There was no doubt of it. Though he bore a strong resemblance to Dick Hamilton, the lad was unmistakably a Cuban or a Spaniard. He drew himself up proudly and fairly glared at them.
"What did I tell you, senors?" he asked, softly.
"Fooled!" gasped Ike, and, as he spoke, the yacht began to gather headway, for the engineer had orders to get in motion as soon as the party came from offshore.
"We are moving! You are taking me away!" He sprang toward the companionway.
"Easy now," cautioned Sam, roughly. "Stay where you are. Maybe we did make a mistake," he went on, turning to Mr. Larabee, "but it may be all right, after all. We'll keep this young fellow aboard. I think Ike and I can fix up a scheme that will change matters a bit," and with that hethrust the young Spaniard into a small room off the cabin, and locked the door. Meanwhile the yacht was increasing her speed, and moving out of the harbor.