The Santiago papers, the next day, contained a full account of the bold kidnapping, and, with fervid language, described how the scoundrels had spirited the Cuban youth away from under the very noses of the police. Strong and vigorous action was called for, and it was suggested that a reward be offered. There had been too many cases of late, the gazettes stated, where youths had been taken away, and held for ransom.
In this case the object of the kidnappers was likely to fail, the papers stated, as the victim was the son of a poor man—Senor Alantrez—who would be unable to pay any money. Senor Alantrez was a clerk in the government employ, and he and his son were worthy persons, it was said.
"Well, I call that a shame!" exclaimed Dick to his chums, as, seated on the deck of his handsome yacht, he was reading aloud to them the account of the outrage. "The police here ought to get busy, for a fact."
"Is that all there is to it?" asked Beeby.
"No," answered the young millionaire. "There's more. It goes on to say that it is believed that the boy was taken off in the yacht—hello! what's this? Why, fellows, it says that he was taken off in the yachtPrincess, which recently came here from New York. There was something mysterious about the craft, it states. Mysterious! I should say so. Why, I'll wager a good bit that this is the same yacht they tried to get me aboard of, to rob me!"
"You're right," exclaimed Widdy, who was stumping about the deck, near the boys. "That's her name, Mr. Dick."
"But it might not be the same one," suggested Paul.
"Wait until I read a bit further," said Dick. "Yes," he went on, "it says that men from the yacht were seen in several places about town yesterday and last night. And the description of them tallies with those two men who followed me about in New York."
"You don't think they tried to kidnap you, do you?" asked Henry Darby.
"Not a bit of it," answered the young millionaire. "I think they were just ordinary thieves, but I also think that they might attempt a more desperate game down here. Probably they are the same fellows, who took a trip in their yacht to see what luck they would have in Cuba. Then they decided to try kidnapping, as the paper states there have been several cases of it lately. Onlythey happened to get the wrong lad—one with no money—instead of a rich chap."
"Yes, they would have done better to have picked up you," remarked Frank Bender. "But, when they find out their mistake, they'll let this Pedro Alantrez go, I guess."
"Sure," agreed Dick, "and it will be a good joke on them. I hope they are caught and punished."
They discussed the kidnapping further, wondering if it would be of any service to the police for Dick to tell what he suspected of the men—namely, that they had followed him in New York.
"I think I would," suggested Beeby. "I'll go ashore with you, and we'll call on the police. We'll tell 'em what you know, and I can get some good snapshots of the officers, maybe."
"Oh, you and your snapshots!" exclaimed Dick, good-naturedly. "You'll be taking your own picture next, Beeby. But I think your proposition is a good one. Fellows, let's go ashore. Widdy, have the launch gotten ready; will you?"
"Aye, aye, sir," answered the wooden-legged sailor, and soon the young millionaire and his chums were scudding toward the landing dock.
While the others rode about the city in carriages which Dick hired, the young yacht owner and Beeby were driven to the office of the chief of police. Dick's reputation as a master of money had preceded him, and he was ushered into the private room with no little ceremony. He told hissuspicions of the men who had taken part in the kidnapping, and received the thanks of the official, who said he would communicate with the police of New York, toward which city the scoundrels were undoubtedly bound.
As Dick came out of the chief's private room he saw, standing at the desk of one of the lieutenants of police, a man who seemed greatly affected. He was evidently under some poignant grief or sorrow.
"And you say there is no news?" he asked in Spanish, which language Dick understood slightly. "They have taken my boy out to sea! Oh, my poor son! Why can not a boat be had to follow the scoundrels?"
"Because there is no boat available," answered the lieutenant. "We would gladly accommodate you, Senor Alantrez, but it is impossible."
"That is the father of the boy who was kidnapped," said the chief, in a low tone to Dick. "He will be glad to meet you, and to know that you have given us some information that may prove valuable. Come, if you like; I will present him to you, Senor Hamilton."
"Very well," assented Dick, and he was shortly shaking hands with the grief-stricken parent.
"Do you think there is any chance of catching the villains?" asked Senor Alantrez of Dick, in fairly good English. The man seemed nervous and anxious for some one to give him hope.
"Yes, I think they'll get them," declared theyoung millionaire. "When those men find out that your son is not—er—not as—" Dick hesitated. He did not wish to embarrass the father by referring to him as poor.
"Do not be afraid to speak it, senor," said Mr. Alantrez, with a sad smile. "Poverty and I have been close friends, of late, though we were not always such. I am poor, and I am glad, for now the scoundrels may the sooner return my son to me. If there was but a fast boat to be had, we would give chase to them. But there is none to be secured without much money, and I, alas, have none. So I must wait; but it is hard! My poor boy!"
Dick's face shone with a sudden light, and his eyes brightened. He took a step forward.
"Would you like to get a boat, and take a cruise after those men who have your son?" he asked.
"Ah, senor, it would give me the utmost happiness! But why ask me? I can get no boat."
"Yes, you can," cried the young millionaire. "I wonder I didn't think of it before. My yacht, theAlbatross, is at your disposal, Senor Alantrez! If you will be my guest we'll get up steam at once, and trail after those villains! I'd ask nothing better than to run them down!" and Dick's eyes sparkled with righteous anger. "They tried to injure me, and I'd be glad of a chance to get back at them. Come, senor, we'll start at once, if you are ready, and I think we can overtake thePrincess, though she has a good start."
"Oh, I can never thank you enough, senor!" cried the father, seizing Dick's hand, and attempting, in his warm, Spanish way, to kiss it, only the lad drew it quickly away. "I am your debtor for life!" he cried.
"Wait until we see if we catch those fellows," spoke Dick, as he led the way from the police station, followed by Senor Alantrez, and Beeby, who had been busy taking several snapshots.
The chief of police and his lieutenant shrugged their shoulders.
"These Americanos!" murmured the chief. "They are always in such a hurry. To-morrow would have done as well."
But Dick, hurrying toward his yacht, with the now hopeful father, waited for no to-morrows. He was going to get on the trail at once.
Dick's chums, when they returned to the yacht, after waiting in vain for him at the plaza, where the band played, and where he had promised to meet them, were surprised to see him in earnest conversation with a Spanish gentleman on the deck of theAlbatross.
"Well, we've been looking everywhere for you, Dick," said Paul Drew. "We were beginning to be afraid you had been kidnapped."
"The saints forbid!" cried the Cuban, fervently and earnestly.
"Come here and meet a friend of mine," invited Dick, and, when the lads crowded up, he presented them to Senor Alantrez—that is, all save Beeby, who, having accompanied Dick to the police station, was already acquainted with the father of the kidnapped lad.
"We are going to sea once more, fellows," announced the young millionaire. "We're going to chase after those kidnappers."
"But what about the search you came here tomake?" suggested Paul Drew, in low tones. "Aren't you going to look for your mother's relatives?"
"Yes, but I've got the lawyer doing that. He can accomplish all that I can, and more too, only not so quickly. It will be two weeks before he has any definite news for me, and, in the meanwhile, I don't want to stay tied up to a dock. I want to be doing something."
"That's Dick Hamilton, all the way through," murmured Henry Darby.
"So I proposed to Senor Alantrez that we give chase to these villains, and we're going to," went on the young millionaire. "We'll start as soon as we have taken some coal aboard and some more provisions, and that can't be until to-morrow morning, I'm sorry to say. But we are a faster boat than is thePrincess, and we may be able to overtake her, even if she has a start of us."
"Where will you look for her?" asked Frank Bender.
"Oh, along the route to New York. I think they'll head for there, or, maybe they'll come back, when they find out their mistake."
"The saints grant that they may," murmured the father. "Oh, if I can see my boy again, unharmed, I will be happy forever!"
"We'll get him," promised Dick, firmly. "We'll get him, or twist off the propeller!"
Dick hurried all he could the coaling of the yacht, but even his utmost efforts were of littleavail. The laborers were not in the habit of exerting themselves, and they took the usual time. Captain Barton did manage to get the stores and provisions aboard sooner than he expected, but taking on coal was a slow and unpleasant task.
At length, however, it was finished, and Dick, having left word with the Santiago lawyer that he might be gone on the search for several days, prepared to sail. Captain Barton had taken counsel with some local pilots as to the best plan for their cruise, and had secured considerable information about a number of islands, and dangerous reefs in the neighborhood of the coast off Santiago.
Senor Alantrez readily obtained leave from the government office, where he was employed, to be away for as long as was necessary, and, on the second morning after the kidnapping, Dick, with his friends, and the father of the missing lad, stood on deck, and gave the order to cast off.
"And when we come back, I hope we'll have your son, and also those scoundrels who took him away," said our hero to the grief-stricken father.
As the yacht was slowly moving away from the dock, a boy was seen running down the pier, waving something over his head. It looked like a letter, and he was shouting at the top of his voice.
"There's some one for you, Mr. Dick," said Widdy, who was smoking his pipe near the after companionway.
"Wait, we must see what that is," called the youthful yacht owner. "Perhaps it's a note from the police about the kidnappers."
Captain Barton swung the indicator over to half-speed astern, and the craft's way was checked. The boy with the letter came on faster.
"Wonderful!" cried Beeby, as he saw the speed the lad was making. "I must get a snapshot of him. I have really lived to see some one in Cuba in a hurry! I must make a picture of it, or no one will believe me when I tell them."
He focused his camera on the lad, who, seeing the glistening glass point at him, ducked, and would have run back.
"Stop it!" commanded Dick, with a laugh. "Wait until he delivers that letter, Beeby, and then you can snap him going back. He's afraid to come on."
The cadet put his camera out of sight, and the boy advanced again.
"Is Senor Alantrez on board?" he asked in Spanish.
"Yes, yes, I am here! What is it? Is my boy found? Is it news from the scoundrels who carried him away?" and the father was trembling in his eagerness.
"It came to the office for you," explained the boy, "and they hurried me down here with it. It arrived through the mail, senor."
With a skilful flip of his fingers he sent the envelope scaling on deck, like a miniature aeroplane.
Dick tossed the lad some coins, and, picking them up, he ran back up the pier as if some one was after him.
"Quick, Beeby!" called Paul, "if you want a snapshot, now's your chance."
"Now he's intoomuch of a hurry," objected the cadet, as he snapped his camera at the fleeing lad. "Wonderful to relate, he's entirely too quick for me."
Senor Alantrez was reading his letter. As he finished it he uttered a cry, and extended the missive to Dick.
"It is news of my boy!" he exclaimed joyously. "The scoundrels have given him up. Oh, the saints be praised! Now, we can get him—if only he is unharmed. See—read, Senor Hamilton!"
The note was brief, and was written in English, which Senor Alantrez was familiar with. Dick perused it:
"Senor Alantrez," the letter began. "We regret having been the cause of annoying you, but it was not altogether our fault. We made a mistake. We did not mean to kidnap your son. We wish to restore him to you unharmed, but we do not care, for obvious reasons, to venture back to Santiago. Therefore, we have taken this plan: We will leave your son on a small island, called Stone Island, where you can call for him at your leisure. He will be provided with sufficient food and water to last two weeks, and, in addition, there is food to be had on the place. He will notsuffer, as the weather is warm, and there are natural shelters on Stone Island. Regretting the trouble we have caused you, at the same time assuring you that it was unintentional, we beg to remain unknown to you, except as"The Kidnappers."
"Senor Alantrez," the letter began. "We regret having been the cause of annoying you, but it was not altogether our fault. We made a mistake. We did not mean to kidnap your son. We wish to restore him to you unharmed, but we do not care, for obvious reasons, to venture back to Santiago. Therefore, we have taken this plan: We will leave your son on a small island, called Stone Island, where you can call for him at your leisure. He will be provided with sufficient food and water to last two weeks, and, in addition, there is food to be had on the place. He will notsuffer, as the weather is warm, and there are natural shelters on Stone Island. Regretting the trouble we have caused you, at the same time assuring you that it was unintentional, we beg to remain unknown to you, except as
"The Kidnappers."
"Well, what do you think of that?" cried Beeby, when Dick had read the letter aloud.
"Talk about nerve!" exclaimed Paul.
"What'll you do?" asked Tim Muldoon.
"Do, why the best thing is to go to Stone Island," decided Dick, promptly. "This letter may be a fake, but it sounds genuine. Anyhow, it won't be much out of our way to call there; will it, Captain Barton?"
"No," announced the commander, after consulting his charts, and some memoranda given him by a Santiago pilot. "Stone Island is a small one, rather isolated, to be sure, and not near any others. It is about a hundred miles south of the Laberinto de doce Leguas group of keys, which are themselves only a few miles from Key Grande and Key Caballones, two rather large islands. I think we can pick up Stone Island, all right."
"Then we'll do it!" cried Dick. "This letter came in the nick of time. We'll rescue your son, Senor Alantrez, and do it as soon as steam can take us there. I hope we find him all right, though he may be a bit lonesome from his Robinson Crusoe existence."
"Oh, my poor boy! But he is brave! Once heis out of the hands of those scoundrels, all will be well!"
"It's the only move they could make," said Dick, reflectively, "for they knew they would be arrested if they set foot on Cuban soil. Now, to the rescue! Let her go, Captain Barton!" and once more the yacht gathered headway, and was soon on her way to Stone Island.
As may well be imagined, there was, at the start of this voyage, more excitement aboard theAlbatrossthan at any time since the eventful cruise had been begun, save, perhaps, during the time when it was thought that Tim Muldoon was drowned. Dick was eager to make speed to the island where the kidnapped youth was said to be, and, after that, he had it in mind to chase after the kidnappers, if he could get a clew to their whereabouts. This, however, he feared would be difficult.
As for Captain Barton, and the others, they, too, were all as anxious as was the owner of the yacht to effect the rescue, and, as the craft sailed over the heaving ocean, the boys talked of little else as the hours passed, save what would happen when they found the marooned youth.
Senor Alantrez took up his position near the bows, peering eagerly forward, as if to get the first glimpse of the lonely island where his son was supposed to be. The yacht, though it was making good time, seemed to him barely to be crawling through the water.
But, after the first day of travel, matters settled down more into the usual routine, though the subdued air of excitement and expectancy was never absent.
"Well," remarked Innis Beeby one morning, as he got up from the breakfast table, "I think I'll take a few snapshots."
"For the love of a celluloid film, Beeby!" exclaimed Dick, "is there anything on board that you haven't snapshotted? If there is, name it, and I'll make you a present of it as a souvenir."
"Well, I haven't been able to get a picture of Grit and Gritty together," answered the stout cadet. "They won't stand still long enough. Every time I think I have them posed, the pup makes a nip at Grit's ear, or tail, and then they mix it up in a make-believe fight, and it's all off."
"Why don't you take 'em as they're playing," suggested Paul. "Make a sort of moving picture."
"By Jove! I never thought of that," said Beeby. "I'll do it," and he hurried off to get his camera.
Dick was busy for the next few minutes, talking to Captain Barton, but his attention was suddenly taken by a series of howls and yells, mingled with barks and growls, coming from the main deck.
"By Jinks!" Dick exclaimed, as he ran up the companionway, "I guess Grit is after Hans again."
He was just in time to see his bulldog shakingsomething in his strong jaws, while Beeby, who had arisen from a sprawling position on the deck, was crying out:
"Here, Grit, old fellow, give it to me! That's a good dog! Don't smash it, now! Come on, old fellow. I didn't mean you any harm; honest, I didn't!"
Grit only growled the harder, and shook more vigorously the object he held.
"What's he got?" asked Dick.
"My camera," replied the fleshy lad. "I was taking a snapshot of him, sitting alone—the first chance I had at him—but when he heard the shutter click, I guess he must have imagined I was trying to poison him. He made a jump for me, and——"
"Did he bite you?" asked the young millionaire, anxiously.
"No, he only grabbed the camera away from me, and now he's trying to make splinters of it. Drop it, Grit, I say!"
But the bulldog, growling and snarling, never heeded.
"Here, Grit!" called Dick in a low voice. "Bring it here!" The dog obeyed instantly, and the camera, rather the worse for wear, as Paul said, was laid on the deck.
"Here it is—guess it isn't hurt much," observed Dick. "If it is, I'll get you a new one, Beeby, and you can sell that to Henry Darby, for old scrap iron and leather."
"Humph! It looks pretty well chewed," spoke Beeby, "but I guess it's all right. I hope he didn't shake it so hard that he fogged the film."
"Maybe he took some views on his own account," suggested Frank Bender.
"I'm going to develop the roll and find out," declared the fat youth, and he came back presently from the improvised dark room, to report that the only good picture on the strip of film was the one of Grit. It had been taken just before the dog sprang, and was a characteristic likeness.
Several days passed, with good weather to make the cruise more enjoyable. Senor Alantrez maintained his watch for the first glimpse of Stone Island, the others taking observations now and again through the powerful glasses.
It was toward the close of a warm, lazy afternoon, when Dick and his chums were sitting on deck, under an awning, sipping iced lemonade and eating some thin crackers which the steward served to them, that from the lookout in the crow's nest, at the forward mast, there came a cry:
"Land ho!"
"Where away?" demanded Captain Barton.
"Dead ahead!"
"Then, that must be what we are looking for," went on the commander. "I thought it was about time we picked it up."
Dick sent for the glasses, and, taking an observation through them, reported that he couldsee a low-lying island, which bore a resemblance to the description given them of the lonely land whither they were bound.
"And oh, if only my son proves to be there!" exclaimed the anxious father.
"Let's make a little more speed," suggested Dick, "and we can anchor, plenty of time before night."
The engine room telegraph gave the necessary order, and the yacht slipped through the water more quickly. The island loomed up larger, and, though Dick and his chums could see it plainly now, through the binoculars, there was no sign of life about it.
"Maybe it's only a blind trail they sent us on, after all," suggested Paul.
"I'll not believe that, until we've landed and made a search," cried Dick.
In another hour theAlbatrosshad dropped anchor in a quiet little bay, where there was good holding ground, and sufficient depth of water. They could get a partial view of the island now. It was possibly five miles long, and about half as broad, with a very much broken and indented shore-line, as far as could be seen. There appeared to be a heavy growth of vegetation on the place, which was partly of coral formation, but from the bay, where the yacht was anchored, no very good view could be obtained. The centre of the land was high and rocky, showing evidences of volcanic formation.
"Well, we're here!" cried Dick, as theAlbatrossswung around with the current. "Now to go ashore and find your son, Senor Alantrez!"
"And may that be speedily!" exclaimed the father. "I can not thank you enough, Senor Hamilton, for bringing me here; I am ever your debtor!"
"Nonsense!" cried Dick, who did not relish praise. "Any one would have done as much as I have. Get the launch ready, Mr. Midwell, if you please, and we'll go ashore."
"Who are going?" asked Paul.
"Well, I thought we fellows would all go," said Dick, "and Senor Alantrez, of course. Then I'll take Widdy to help with the boat, and that will be enough. Unless you want to come, Captain Barton."
"It's not necessary, unless you think you'll need help. I don't like the looks of the weather, and I should prefer to stay by the ship, when I'm on an unknown island coast."
"Oh, I don't fear anything from those kidnappers," said Dick. "They've probably gone long ago, leaving the young man here alone. We'll very likely find him on the other side of the island. Perhaps it will be as well for you to stay on board, however, captain. Come on, fellows."
"Yes, don't lose any time," advised the commander. "I'd like to get plenty of sea room, if it comes on to blow, as seems likely now."
The gasolene launch was quickly awaiting theyoung millionaire, and his guests, at the foot of the accommodation ladder, and soon, with Widdy at the steering wheel, Dick and the other five young men were on their way ashore. They found an easy, sandy beach on which to land, and, taking the kedge anchor of the launch well up on shore, to prevent the tide from floating off the craft, they all started inland to look for the kidnapped youth. Grit and the puppy raced on ahead, gamboling over the sands, and glad enough to be on shore again.
"Which way shall we go?" asked Dick.
"To the right," decided Paul.
"Looks like a better place off to the left," came from Beeby.
"If I might advise," remarked Widdy, "I'd make for the high ground. Then you can get a view over the island, an' see if there is a signal shown anywhere, or some sort of a place where he might live."
"Good idea!" cried Dick; "we'll do it! Come on, fellows! Come on, Senor Alantrez!"
Forward they went, climbing the rough, high land in the centre of the island. It was no easy task to mount to the summit, and, when they were near it, Dick, who was in the lead, called:
"Quiet, everybody! I hear some one coming!" There was a sound of crackling underbrush, and of tree branches pushed to one side.
"Maybe it's an animal," suggested Paul. "I brought one of your rifles, Dick."
"Good! Have it in readiness, though it walks more like a person than an animal."
The sounds suddenly ceased.
"Maybe it's some of the kidnappers," came from Beeby. "If I get a chance I'll snapshot 'em, and we can use the pictures for evidence. I——"
Beeby didn't have a chance to finish. A moment later there was a sudden cry of joy, and a figure burst through the fringe of underbrush. Right toward Senor Alantrez it sprang, and Paul, who had half-raised the rifle, lowered it, for he saw that the figure was that of a youth.
"Padre! Padre!" shouted the lad, and then in rapid Spanish he greeted his father.
"My son! My son!" cried Senor Alantrez, in delight. "I have really found you! The dear saints be praised! Heaven has been good to me!" and father and son were clasped in each other's arms, while Dick and his chums felt the moisture come into their eyes, and they found something exceedingly interesting to look at in the other direction. The two Cubans embraced warmly, held each other off at arms' length, as if to make sure there was no mistake, and then clasped each other close again, all the while murmuring endearing terms in their own tongue.
"But I forget myself!" exclaimed the elder Cuban at length. "Pedro, here is our benefactor—yours and mine—but for him, you would never have been found. Kiss his hand!"
"No, you don't!" cried Dick, who was not usedto such things. "I don't want to be thanked. I've been thanked enough. If I hadn't come here for you some one else would. But I'm glad you're all right, Pedro Alantrez. Did those scoundrels treat you badly?"
"No, it was all a curious mistake, and, as soon as they discovered it, they set me ashore here, and said my father would be told where to come for me. I have been waiting two days. I have not suffered, save from loneliness. I erected a signal on the other side of the island, and I was crossing to put one up over here, when, as I was walking along, I heard voices. I grew afraid. I hid, but when I peered out, and saw you, I knew it was all right. Oh, padre, how happy I am!"
"Well, we're glad, too," spoke Dick, "but as it's growing late, and as Captain Barton says a storm is coming up, suppose we return to the yacht. I fancy you have had enough of this place, Pedro?"
"Too much, Senor Hamilton. I shall be glad to leave it."
They turned to make their way down the slope. It was getting late, though there was still plenty of light. They had been out of sight of the yacht and launch for some time, as the bay where they had landed was on a curve, and trees hid it from view.
As they came down to the beach, where they should have had a glimpse of the launch, Dick rubbed his eyes, took a second look, and cried out:
"Fellows, we're not sailors. The launch has been carried away by the tide!"
"Carried away by the tide?" repeated Widdy, wonderingly, as he stumped forward. "It couldn't be! She was well fastened, and the kedge anchor was out of reach of high water."
"But she's gone!" declared Dick.
"Maybe we're at the wrong place," suggested Paul.
"This is where we landed," insisted Henry.
"It sure is," agreed Beeby. "I remember it, for I took a picture of the launch as it was drawn up on the beach, and I stood near this big shell," and be pointed to one of peculiar formation.
"Then Captain Barton must have come ashore and got the boat," said Frank Bender.
Dick glanced across the bay. There was a wide expanse of water, but nothing was visible on it. A cry of fear and wonder came to his lips.
"Fellows!" he exclaimed, "my yacht is also gone!"
"Gone?" echoed the others.
Silently Dick pointed to the place where theAlbatrosshad been anchored. There was no mistaking it, for the craft had been just opposite where the launch landed. But the yacht was not there, and a rapid survey of the shore in both directions did not disclose either her or the launch.
"Fellows, we're marooned on this island!" spoke Dick, solemnly.
For a few moments after Dick had spoken his companions hardly realized the import of what he said. It came rather as a shock to them, following the disappearance of the launch and yacht.
Senor Alantrez and his son looked at each other, not quite understanding, for, though they spoke English fairly well, the talk of the young millionaire and his chums had been so rapid and excited that the two foreigners had not gathered the full meaning of what was said.
"Is it that the steamer has gone, but will return presently?" asked the elder Cuban of Dick.
"It's gone—that's sure," was the reply, "but whether it will come back or not——" the lad shrugged his shoulders, a Spanish trick he had acquired lately.
"What does it all mean?" asked Beeby. "Is the yacht really gone, Dick?"
"Do you see it anywhere?" inquired the young millionaire in his turn, and he swept his hand toward the ocean. "If you do, you have bettereyes than I. And the launch seems to have disappeared also."
"But I can't understand it," put in Paul.
"I guess it's as Frank said," remarked Henry Darby. "The captain saw a storm coming up, and came to get the launch. Then he put out to sea."
"He wouldn't do it, and leave us marooned on this island, with nothing to eat," declared Dick, positively. "No, fellows, there's something queer and mysterious about this. Either the yacht and launch suddenly sank, which is out of the question, or they were taken away. Pedro Alantrez," he went on, turning quickly to the young Cuban, "did those kidnappers, who landed you here, go away?"
"As far as I know, they did, Senor Hamilton," was the answer. "They anchored about where you say your yacht was, and brought me ashore in a small boat, with some food. Then they rowed back, got up steam, and sailed away, leaving me all alone."
"Did you think those men might have stolen your yacht, Dick?" asked Beeby.
"I was beginning to think so—in fact, I was sure of it, but if they went away I don't see how they could. They would hardly stay around, after sending word to Senor Alantrez that his son was here, knowing, as they must have, that he would come to get him. It wouldn't be safe for them. No, they probably have gone, but there may beCuban pirates, or some other criminals, on this island, who sneaked around when we were inland, and took the launch and yacht."
"But they'd have to overpower Captain Barton and the crew to do such a thing," objected Frank Bender.
"Well, that's possible," argued Dick, "especially if they sneaked up on theAlbatrossin the launch. Captain Barton and the others, seeing the yacht's launch approach, wouldn't suspect anything until it was too late. I'm afraid something serious may have happened to them. Did you notice any signs of pirates, or other desperate characters, on the island since you have been here?" asked Dick, of the young Cuban.
"No, senor, but then I did not explore this place much. I was too full of grief. I merely erected a signal on the other side of the island, and was coming to do the same here, when I met you."
There was silence for a few minutes, while the grim, dismal fact that they were marooned on a lonely and seldom-visited island, sank deeper into the minds of the young millionaire and his chums. They gazed helplessly across the stretch of ocean, which was fast becoming covered with a haze, added to which the falling darkness made it impossible to make out objects more than a short distance away.
"Well, what's to be done?" asked Beeby atlength, and he emitted a sigh. "If we've got to stay here all night, we'd better do something."
"We'll probably have to stay here for several nights and days," declared Dick. "Fellows, we're up against it. I think the first thing to be done is to go to some high point—the highest on the island—and see if we can get a glimpse of the yacht. It can't have gotten out of sight so quickly."
"Maybe not, but by the time we get to the high point, it'll be so dark we can't see anything," put in Widdy, who had said little since the astonishing discovery was made. "If I might say something, Mr. Dick, I'd say the best thing to do would be to find a shelter for the night, as it's cold an' damp when the sun goes down."
"It's about down now," replied the young millionaire. "But, you're right, Widdy, we do need shelter."
"And something to eat," added Beeby. "What about that, Dick? I'm hungry!"
"Don't think of it," advised Paul.
"I can't help it, when I remember all the good things on board the yacht," went on the fat cadet. "The chicken, the roast beef, the soups, the pies and cakes that Hans used to make—the omelets, and——"
"Cut it out!" yelled Frank. "Do you want us all to die of indigestion?"
"Not much danger," put in Dick, with a grimlaugh. "But let's take a vote on what to do. Where shall we spend the night?"
"At a moving picture show, or a comic opera," said Tim Muldoon, with a laugh.
"That's right, jolly us up a bit," cried Dick. "We need it. But it's going to be serious enough later on."
"Pardon, senors," spoke the young Cuban, "but of the food which the kidnappers left me there is still a considerable quantity left, and the few days I was alone here I made a sort of shelter on the other side of the island. If we hasten we can get to it before dark, and spend the night there. It is better than on this side of the island."
"Fine!" cried Dick. "Why didn't you say something about that before, Pedro?"
"I did not like to interrupt the senors," was the lad's gentle answer. "But the food is not very choice, and there is not much of it."
"It'll have to do," declared the wealthy lad. "Come on, fellows, for a walk over the hill to the other shore. We'll make-believe we're on a practice march, Paul and Beeby."
"Sure," agreed the fat cadet, "only let it be more practice than march, if you please, for my feet are sore."
They started off, retracing their course in the same direction as when they had looked for the kidnapped lad. Dick led the way, with Grit coursing along at his heels, while Widdy carriedGritty, the puppy, whose short legs got tangled up in the underbrush.
They reached the other shore just as dusk fell, and there saw a mass of leaves and branches which the Spanish lad had piled into a rude sort of shelter. He showed them where he had stored the canned stuff which his captors had left for him.
"Why, that isn't so bad," announced Dick, as he saw the food supply.
"Is there any fresh water?" asked Tim Muldoon. "I'm as dry as a fish!"
"There is a good spring near here," announced Pedro.
"Then we'll build a fire and camp out!" declared Paul. "Being marooned isn't so bad, after all; eh Dick?"
"Maybe not," agreed the young millionaire, as he helped the others gather fuel for the fire.
Soon a cheerful blaze was roaring on the beach, fed by pieces of driftwood which Widdy brought from various points. The leaping flames illuminated the place, and cast dancing, fantastic shadows of the little party upon the sands.
"Frank, you get some water," ordered Dick, "and then see what you can find to boil it in. Pedro says they left him some coffee."
"Yes, and a few cooking utensils," added the Cuban. "I think there is also a coffee pot."
"Good!" cried Dick. "Beeby, drop your cameraand get busy. What do you think I'm paying you for—to pose as a living picture?"
"I was going to take a snapshot of the fire," pleaded the fat lad.
"Make a snapshot of yourself bringing up more wood," ordered Dick, with a laugh. "We'll need it before morning. Tim, you and Paul and Henry get busy on enlarging the shelter. There is quite an addition to your family, Pedro, since last night."
"Yes, but there will be room for all," said the elder Cuban, cheerfully. Nothing mattered to him, now that his son was found.
And so the marooned party, gathered about the fire, took a happier view of their situation as they bustled about, trying to get something to eat, while Widdy piled the wood on the blaze, and the two dogs played about in the sand, as if the whole affair was arranged for their especial benefit.
It can not be said that the supper was a very elaborate one. They ate canned corned beef and crackers, and drank coffee from clam shells and empty tin cans, but Dick said it tasted as good, if not better, than the most complete meal Hans, the cook, had ever served to them on the yacht.
"It sure does," agreed Beeby, with a sigh of satisfaction. "I'll have a little more of that fricasseed corned-beef on toast, with a bit of mushroom sauce on the side, if you don't mind, old man," and he passed his clam shell to Dick.
"You'll have nothing of the kind," announced the young millionaire, peering into the frying pan, in which the beef had been warmed, "for the simple reason, Beeby, that it's all gone."
"Ah, a very good and sufficient reason," admitted the stout cadet. "Then I'll fill up on water. There's plenty of that."
They sat about the campfire after the meal, discussing over and over again the strange disappearance of the launch and yacht, but beingunable to come to any conclusion regarding the matter. Dick's theory, that some criminals (who were either concealed on the island, or who had been on their craft, hidden in some bay) had sneaked out to the yacht when the young millionaire and his chums were prospecting inland, was generally accepted.
"But what can we do about it?" asked Henry Darby, who was intensely practical.
"We'll think of that in the morning," decided Dick, who was both worried and tired. He knew their situation was desperate, for the food supply was very limited, and he dared not think what would happen when it was all gone. And, in a measure, he felt a sense of responsibility for the welfare of the whole party. "Let's get under shelter now," went on the young yacht owner. "It's getting damp and chilly from the dew. In the morning we'll make a better shelter, see what there is on this island to eat, and put up some signals. It will probably be only a short time before we can be taken off by some ship." But, though he spoke thus hopefully, Dick was far from feeling the confidence with which he wished to inspire his companions.
The night under the flimsy shelter would have been uncomfortable to a degree had not the faithful Widdy replenished the fire at frequent intervals. Indeed, he scarcely seemed to sleep, but was up and about all night, piling on wood, and making a roaring blaze the genial heat of whichpenetrated to the bower where Dick and the others were stretched out on the ground, endeavoring to get a little rest.
Widdy constituted himself cook, and the first sight that greeted the eyes of Dick when he crawled out the next morning, rather sore and stiff, from his uncomfortable bed, was the old seaman, stumping around on the sand, making coffee over the campfire.
"My, but that smells good!" cried the young millionaire.
"Just tell the steward to serve mine in my stateroom this morning, will you, old chap?" drawled Beeby. "I think I'll lie abed a bit longer."
"Yes, you will!" cried Paul Drew, and, with a shove of his foot, he sent the fat lad rolling out of the bower, and over the sloping sand toward the waves.
"'Up, up, Lucy, the sun is up, and we must be up, too,' as it used to say in the school books," cried Dick, gaily. "We've got lots to do to-day, fellows, and we'd better get at it. So, after some coffee and rolls—we'll omit the omelet this morning, because—ahem!—because the hens seem to be off on their vacation—but after some coffee and hard-tack we'll get busy. We must set up some signals of distress, erect a better shelter, see what food we have on hand, look to see what there is to be gotten here, and take another look at the place from where the launch disappeared.Maybe we can discover some clews. Come on, tumble out, everybody!"
"Me for a dip in the briny!" cried Paul, and, stripping to his undergarments, he ran down the beach, and was soon splashing about. The others followed his example, with the exception of Widdy and Senor Alantrez, and when the lads came back, glowing from their bath, they found a table set on the sands—a primitive table, with tin cans for cups, and shells for plates. But no coffee ever tasted better, as they sat around in negligee costumes and drank it, for the weather was warm enough to permit of light attire.
"Now, fellows, here's the program, as I see it," said Dick, when the meal was finished. "Senor Alantrez, his son and I will go over to the other side of the island and erect some sort of a distress signal. We will also take a look around while there. Widdy, you and Henry Darby and Tim Muldoon can get busy and make a better shelter. You have pocket-knives, and can cut branches when you can't break 'em. Paul, you and Beeby take a stroll around, and see if there is anything to eat on this place. Take the rifle, which you were lucky enough to bring with you, Paul, and if you can pot a brace of quail or a roast turkey, so much the better."
"And I'll take some pictures," added Beeby.
"Yes, it will keep you out of mischief," declared Dick, smiling. "Now we all have something to do."
"Aye, aye, Captain Hamilton!" exclaimed Paul, with a left-handed salute. "Your orders shall be obeyed."
"I wish I had some sort of a hatchet with which to cut a tree to stick down near the beach for a signal pole," went on Dick.
"The kidnappers left me one, but it's not very sharp," said Pedro Alantrez, as he brought it forth.
"It'll have to do," observed the young millionaire. "Now, come on. We'll be back to dinner, fellows, so be sure to have a good one ready," he added, as he and the two Spaniards started across the island.
When the wealthy youth and his companions reached the high ground in the middle of the place, they looked long and earnestly across the waste of waters, but there was no sign of the yacht, nor any other vessel. Dick could not help sighing, as he started to ascend the slope.
"I regret, senor, that you have suffered so much on my account," spoke Pedro, softly. "Your fine yacht is gone."
"But I'll get it back!" declared Dick, with anger in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault at all—I'm only too glad that we came here for you."
They made a careful examination of the beach upon which the launch had been hauled when the party went ashore, but no clews could be had. The tide had washed away most of the footprints, and those that were left were so intermingled thatit could not be told whether they had been made by Dick and his chums, or by strangers who landed, took away the launch and thus reached the yacht.
"Well, we'll put up a signal, and leave a note in some stones at the foot of the pole, telling any rescue party that may land, to come to the other side of the island," proposed Dick. "And there's another thing—what shall I make the signal of?"
"We'll have to use some of our clothing," suggested Senor Alantrez. "I can spare my vest."
"I guess we all can," said Dick. "We don't need 'em in this climate, and three vests, fluttering from a flagstaff, will attract attention almost anywhere."
They cut down a tall, slender tree, tied their vests to it, one below the other, and then, digging a hole in the sand with the hatchet, well above high-water mark, they set up the pole. The signal showed conspicuously.
"Now, that's done, we'll take a walk along the beach before we go back," proposed Dick. "Maybe we can find some clams or some crabs to eat. Well, this is certainly a change from what I was doing yesterday. By the way, Pedro, how did you come to be kidnapped, anyhow. I meant to have you tell us, but so many other things happened that I overlooked it. Did you get any clew to who the men were?"
"I was just going to speak about it myself,"said the young Cuban. "I meant to last night, for I think you are much concerned in it."
"I am concerned in it?"
"Yes."
"How is that?" asked Dick, wonderingly.
"Because I was kidnapped by a man named Ezra Larabee, and the men he hired to take me away thought they were taking a certain Dick Hamilton."
"My Uncle Ezra here? He wanted to kidnap me? They took you for me?" gasped Dick, wondering whether he had heard aright.
"Yes. You and I strongly resemble each other," went on the Spanish youth.
"I know that," assented Dick, "but—my uncle here—trying to kidnap me? It seems incredible. What vessel did he have?"
"ThePrincess."
"Ha! Then itwasthe same one on which they tried to decoy me while in New York. I begin to see through some things," cried Dick. "Those men—the two who attacked me—they were kidnappers instead of thieves, as I thought. But I never suspected Uncle Ezra, though he did bitterly oppose me in this yachting business. But what can be his object? Is he crazy?"
"He is possessed with an idea that you must be prevented from wasting your money," answered Pedro. "I gathered that much while a captive on thePrincess. He wants to kidnap you for your own good, he says."
"Then he must have gone insane. To think of taking you for me!"
"Yes, your uncle was very much put out over the mistake the men and boys made," said Pedro.
"Boys—were there boys aboard thePrincess?" asked Dick.
"Guy Fletcher and Simon Scardale," answered the Spaniard.
"Guy and Simon? Worse and more of it!" cried Dick. "But how did my uncle happen to get in with them—how did he get away down to Cuba?"
"It seems that he followed you from New York," went on Pedro, who had overheard considerable during his captivity. "He knew you were coming to Cuba to look up some distant relatives."
"That's right, so I did, but I don't seem to be able to locate them," said the young millionaire. "I am looking for some relatives of my dear mother—their names are Miguel and Raphael Valdez, but they seem to have disappeared."
"Miguel and Raphael Valdez?" gasped Senor Alantrez, springing to his feet. "Are you searching forthem, Senor Hamilton?"
"I am, but I've about given up. They are not to be found, and I'm sorry, for mother wished to have them aided if they were in want. Besides their signatures are needed to important papers. However, if I can't locate them——"
"Theyareto be found!" cried the elderly Cuban.
"Where?" asked Dick, eagerly.
"Here," replied Senor Alantrez, with a dramatic gesture. "Allow me to make known to you the identity of myself and my son. I am Senor Raphael Valdez, and he is Miguel, and we are relatives of your mother, if you are the son of Mortimer Hamilton."
"I certainly am," responded the youth, in puzzled tones, "but I thought your name was Alantrez."
"I changed my name when I lost my money, as I was too proud to let my friends know of my misfortune," went on Senor Valdez, as we must now call him, "but we really are the last of the Valdez family, as I shall soon convince you. We are your mother's relatives, though I never suspected it, for the name Hamilton is not uncommon. Please to be seated, senor, and I will relate our story to you," and the Cuban politely waved Dick to a seat on the sand.
"And to think that I have been chumming with you all this while, and never knew you were my relatives!" cried the young millionaire. "This beats a story in a book. Go ahead, senor, tell me all you can, and then we'll hurry back to camp with the good news."
Senor Raphael Valdez was not long in proving the identity of himself and his son. Several years back he had fallen in love with a Miss Rose Martin, who was Dick's mother's cousin. He had married her, taken her to Cuba, where he had large possessions, and, after many years of happiness she had died, leaving him an only son. When the war with Spain broke out, all of the wealth of Senor Valdez was swept away, and he became poor.
Unwilling to let his friends know of his plight—for his was a proud Spanish nature—he changed his name, and he and his son set out to mend their broken fortunes. But it was hard work, and for years he struggled along, concealing his whereabouts to such advantage that none of Mr. Hamilton's inquiries located him.
Finally Senor Valdez, under the name of Alantrez, secured a place with the government, in Santiago, his former home, but he and his son had so changed in appearance that none of theirformer friends knew them, and they had no near relatives.
All this the elder Cuban related to the young millionaire, as they sat on the sands at the foot of the signal mast.
"And that accounts for the likeness of you and my son," finished Senor Valdez. "He has some of the Martin blood in his veins, I am glad to say, and I am proud that your mother, Senor Hamilton, was related to the Martin family."
"So am I," added Dick, "and I'm happy that I have found you. I have been able to fulfil the mission my mother left unfinished, and also clear up dad's property affairs. I hope you will not be too proud, senor, to accept help from me," he continued wistfully, for Dick liked nothing better than to help other people. "Besides, there is a tenth share of the property in New York coming to you."
"You have already placed me so much in your debt that I am overwhelmed," said the Cuban, warmly.
"Then you might as well let me make a complete job of it," spoke Dick, quickly, with a laugh. "But, suppose we start back. The others may be getting anxious."
Senior Valdez returned to his pocket certain papers, by which he had proved his identity, and arose.
"Come on, Cousin Miguel," Dick said to theCuban lad. "I'm going to call you cousin, from now on, if you don't object."
"I am honored," answered Miguel, with a stately bow.
Exploring part of the beach, near the signal mast, Dick and his two companions found a number of soft clams, of which they gathered a quantity, carrying them in a bag which the kidnappers had left with Miguel.
"We'll have them steamed on a fire in a pile of seaweed," suggested the young millionaire. "It'll be a shore dinner, though the usual fixings will be missing."
They found the whole party assembled on the beach, near the campfire, waiting for them, Paul and Beeby having returned empty handed. There was rather a glum look on their faces.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick. "You look as if you'd lost your last friend."
"We didn't find any grub," explained Beeby.
"Butwedid, and I found something else," went on the lad of millions. "Here are slathers of soft clams. We can't starve while they hold out."
"We saw some like those, but I didn't think they were any good," remarked Beeby. "We were looking for something worth while."
"You'll find these worth while when you're hungry," went on Dick. "Come on, now, fellows, get a good fire going, gather some seaweed and we'll have a feast. But, first, I've got somenews for you," and he proceeded to relate his unexpected, but perfectly simple, finding of the relatives he had come so far to seek.
"It's just like when once I found a whole lot of scrap iron I wasn't expecting," declared Henry Darby, and then he wondered why Dick and the others laughed, hastening to explain, as soon as he saw the joke, that he had no intention of comparing the young millionaire's relatives to iron junk.
While the boys were discussing the strange outcome of the affair, Widdy was busy with the steaming of the clams. In a short time an appetizing aroma filled the air, which caused the boys to inquire anxiously when the "shore-dinner," as they dubbed it, would be ready.
They ate in rather primitive fashion, with fingers doing duty for knives and forks, but they all said they had never tasted any better clams, though there was no drawn-butter to dip them into.