Toward dusk on Sunday evening, Tom, after a lazy day, having once more perused the paper bound love story which he invariably carried in his pocket, was reminded of his promise to join Jim and Juarez on shore.
He called to Jo, and, while waiting for him, let down into the long boat at the ship’s side some small casks, which were to be filled with fresh water.
“When you get ashore, send the steward on board,” said the professor. “It’s near supper time, and he should be here.”
“What did he go ashore for?” asked Tom.
“He said that he wanted to look for some kind of leaves that he wished for flavoring.”
“H’m,” drawled Tom. “Hope he hasn’t gone to look for something to poison us with.”
“What makes you so prejudiced against the steward, Tom?” asked the professor. “Thereisn’t anything against him, except that he is a Mexican, and—”
“That’s enough for one thing,” asserted Tom. “I am pretty sure that he is the one that has caused all the trouble here.”
“But why?” persisted the professor. “He has been my steward off and on for many years, and he has always been faithful and honest.”
“Maybe he has,” persisted Tom. “But still I don’t trust him.”
“All right, Tom,” replied the professor, laughingly, “keep your eye on him, but still I think he is all right.”
“I say, Tom,” broke in Jo, who had climbed down into the small boat, “if you are coming you had better make a start and hurry up Berwick. It will be night before we get away. Say, what did you do with the rowlocks?”
“What would I do with them,” retorted Tom. “Left them in their place, of course.”
“Well, they are not there now,” grumbled Jo. “How do you think we are going to row without any rowlocks?”
“What is that?” asked the professor.
“Somebody has taken the rowlocks out of theboat,” complained Tom, “and Jo seems to think I did it.”
“Perhaps some of the crew took them out when they were unloading it last,” suggested the professor. But a hasty questioning of the men who had hoisted out the filled casks showed that they had not removed them.
“It is certainly strange,” admitted the professor. “Are they all gone?”
“All of them,” returned Jo, emphatically.
“Well, you will have to get some out of the storeroom,” said the captain, who had been attracted by the discussion. “I think it is likely someone has taken them out and forgotten them.”
“Now, then,” cried Jo, when the other rowlocks had been put in. “Where’s Berwick? Give him a hail, will you?”
At this instant Berwick came up the ladder from the engine room, excitedly swinging an iron bar.
“Hallo,” called Tom. “What have you got there?”
“What do you think of that!” demanded Berwick as he came toward the others.
“What is it?” asked the professor.
“It is an iron bar that I found wedged in the engine,” replied Berwick. “I thought I would take a look over the engine before I went ashore and I found this.”
“What was it doing there?” asked the professor.
“Well, it wasn’t doing anything,” replied Berwick, grimly, “but if the engine had been started with that thing in it, it would have made a junk heap of the whole thing in about ten seconds.”
“How did it get there?” asked Tom.
Berwick shrugged his shoulders.
“You know as much about it as I do. Whoever put it there meant mischief. If that infernal little hunchback isn’t around—”
“His first cousin is,” supplemented Tom, “but he has gone ashore now and I don’t believe he will be back.”
“Who are you talking about?” demanded Berwick.
“The steward.”
“I am not quite ready to concede that,” said the professor, “but I think there is a traitor aboard somewhere, and there is mischief brewing. It seems to me that the best thing to do is to get Jim and Juarez on board again until we can clearthis thing up. Get over, boys, into the boat. I am going with you.”
Tom ran down the ladder into the boat, followed by the professor, and in a moment the boat was speeding for the shore as fast as Tom and Jo could pull it.
“Where are your guns?” asked the professor, when they landed.
“We left them with Jim,” replied Jo. “He was to bring them ashore and clean them up.”
“Jim and Juarez were to be somewhere abouts but I don’t see either of them,” put in Tom.
“They certainly are not here now,” exclaimed the professor, anxiously.
“They can’t be far away,” said Tom. “Wait until I give them a call. Ohe-ee! Jim! Juarez! Oho-e-e!” he shouted.
There was no response, however, to their repeated calls.
“It’s strange,” said the professor. “Look around and see if you can find their trails.”
“Here’s the guns,” cried Jo, a moment later, “hid away in these bushes.”
“That’s queer,” commented the professor, “they must have gone off somewhere, but why?”
“Here’s Juarez’s trail,” announced Tom. “Ican see, too, that he went off first and that Jim went afterward.”
“Better take your guns along, boys,” advised the professor. “There is no telling what we may meet.”
Picking up their guns the boys started off on the trail with Tom in the lead. They had not gone very far on the way when Tom stopped and raised his hand.
“There is something or someone coming,” he whispered as the others came up with him. “Get behind or into the bushes until we see who it is, or what.”
Only a person with ears trained by experience in the woods would have detected the approach of someone as Tom had. There was an occasional snapping of a twig or rustling in the bushes as the coming object moved. There was an unevenness about the movements that puzzled the boys.
With his rifle cocked and ready for instant use, Tom crouched behind the bush ready for quick action if necessary. Then as the figure of someone came into view, moving slowly, and stealthily through the woods, he sprang forward.
“Hallo, Juarez,” he called. “Anything the matter? Where have you been?”
“Where is Jim?” asked Juarez.
“Jim?” echoed Tom. “I don’t know. Isn’t he with you?”
“Then those pirates have got him!” exclaimed Juarez. “I tried to get back to warn him, but I had a fall, and it took me longer than I expected.”
“Come. Sit down and tell us about it,” said the professor, fixing, meanwhile a place beneath a tree, “while I see what is the matter with you. Where are you hurt?”
“It is my foot,” explained Juarez. “I expect I strained it when I fell. I can hardly walk.”
“Hardly!” exclaimed the professor when he examined Juarez’s foot. “It’s a wonder you walked at all. You have a dislocation. And your head, too?”
“Never mind that,” cried Juarez. “Never mind anything. We want to get after the pirates.”
“All in good time, Juarez,” replied the professor. “The first thing to do is to get you into shape again, for we shall need your help. Here, Tom, you get a hold of this leg. Hold it steady,now, ready.” With a little click the bone slipped back into place when the professor gave a pull and a little twist to the foot, but although Juarez’s face went white, he did not utter a sound.
“Now,” commanded the professor, “see if you can get some cold water, Jo, and Tom, you find something for a bandage. You’ll find some sail cloth among the stuff we brought in the boat.”
Tom was off in a second to return presently with a strip of cloth as Jo came up with his cap full of water. Tearing the material into strips and dipping them into the water, the professor soon had both Juarez’s head and foot bandaged in a way that gave him comparative relief.
“Now,” said the professor, “tell us about Jim.”
Whereupon Juarez told briefly of his journey that afternoon, and how, when trying to observe the approach of some strangers, he had fallen, and then he repeated the conversation he had overheard, and told how he had tried to get back to the shore in time to warn Jim of the impending danger. All listened intently and Tom could not avoid an occasional interruption to express his opinion of the steward.
“The villain!” cried Tom between his teeth, in a tone that boded ill for the man.
“You were evidently right,” the professor reluctantly admitted, “the man is a traitor.”
“I hope we catch him,” cried Jo.
“Come on, now,” says Tom, starting up.
“Where are you going?” asked the professor.
“To help Jim. If you will stay with Juarez, Jo and I will follow up his trail,” responded Tom.
This seemed feasible and wise and aided by some instructions given by Juarez they were in a measure able to make good progress. They soon came upon a place where there were evidences of a struggle, and here they carefully searched about and called loudly, but got no response.
But one inference was possible, Jim had been overpowered by a superior force and made prisoner; so they reluctantly returned to the professor with this report.
“We can’t do anything more to-night,” determined the professor. “It is too late. If there are enemies about under cover of darkness they have every advantage. I think our best plan would be to go back to the Storm King and make our plans for to-morrow. With a night’s rest,Juarez will be in shape to help us, and we will have Berwick, too.”
“But they may kill Jim before morning,” objected Tom.
“I don’t think there is any danger of that,” replied the professor. “They would not have bothered to take him prisoner if any harm were intended. If we went on now, even if we knew what direction to take, we would only be working in the dark, literally and figuratively. We will have to reconnoitre a little first and plan accordingly.”
“I don’t know but what you are right,” admitted Tom, very reluctantly, “but it doesn’t seem the right thing to do to leave Jim that way.”
“Festina lenta, Tom,” rejoined the professor. “You remember the old proverb, ‘Make haste slowly.’ We’ll do more by not trying to do things too quickly. We will go back and get ready for to-morrow.”
“What do you know about this Captain Beauchamp, who is evidently the commander of the Marjorie?” Jo inquired.
“He is a buccaneer, a pirate and a slave to do the bidding of anyone who will pay for his service. Still he has the reputation for dealing fairlyand is far more likely to hold Jim as hostage for ransom or other advantage than to do him bodily harm.”
“Have you ever had dealings with the captain?”
“No. I have never seen him. Know of him only by hearsay. He is rather well educated, and, I hear, sometimes speaks with a southern drawl, but he even varies that to suit himself.”
“I shall be better satisfied when I know Jim is safe,” concluded Jo.
“Indeed we all shall,” said the professor, and addressing Juarez, “What do you make out about the natives, whom you observed as you were coming down the cliff side?”
“I knew that they were natives by their dress, or lack of it,” said Juarez. “They had but very little clothing on, and I believe that two of the party were ill, for the other four at times assisted their comrades.”
“Likely you were right,” asserted the professor. “Probably it was a pilgrimage to the sulphur spring.”
With occasional help and the aid of a stick which Jo cut to a proper length and fashioned in the form of a crutch, Juarez was able to get backto the boat with comparative ease, and they were soon rowing toward the yacht.
Arriving on board they found that the steward had not yet returned.
“A good thing for him,” asserted Tom. An opinion which no one could gainsay.
“Now, boys,” advised the professor when a late supper had been eaten and a short consultation had been held, “you had better get off to your bunks. Even if you don’t feel inclined to sleep, you will get some needed rest, and that is important, as we are likely to have a hard day’s work ahead of us for to-morrow.”
Before dawn of the next morning the party were all on deck ready for a start as soon as it was light enough to see their way through the woods. Hardly had they assembled, however, when there came one of those sudden terrific storms which are so frequent in the southern seas. The downpour lasted about a half hour to the regret of Jo and Tom, who had hoped to readily strike and follow the trail of Jim and his captors. Some other plan would now be necessary.
“I think,” said the professor, who, in the absence of Jim, had tacitly assumed the leadership, “that we had better go prepared for an overnight stay.”
“Why do you think it will take us so long?” questioned Jo.
“That is something we cannot tell,” responded the professor. “We don’t know what we may have to contend with. We have a powerful andwily enemy in Captain Beauchamp, and we will have to accomplish our ends by strategy rather than by force.”
“Have you got any plan, professor?” asked Tom.
“Only in a general way,” replied the professor. “We shall have to act as seems best as things turn up.”
“What is the first thing to be done?” asked Tom.
“I propose,” answered the professor, “that we go to the place where you saw the column of smoke.”
“What do you expect to find there that we did not?”
“Nothing, perhaps, but I think that that is the highest point on the island,” explained the professor, “and from there we ought to be able to get a fair idea of the size and shape of the place and the character of the country.”
“And from that we can plan our campaign,” said Berwick.
“Exactly. Now, then,” he went on a moment later, “if you are all ready we will get away. Be careful, boys, for it is more than likely that our movements are watched.”
The first faint light of the coming day was beginning to show, and the stars were fading before the coming dawn. Away off to the right of the yacht as she swung at her anchor on the incoming tide the shore loomed heavy and black, a thick blot in the inky darkness. There was almost an unnatural stillness over the harbor, the only sound to break the quiet being the soft lap, lap, of the ever restless waves beating against the side of the vessel.
Their voices sounded so unnaturally loud when they spoke to one another that they all unconsciously dropped their tone to a whisper.
Despite his protests that he was in fit condition to accompany the others, it was decided that Juarez should remain on the yacht.
“You are really not able to travel,” insisted Tom.
“And you will be in shape to-morrow when we will need you more,” added Jo in an effort at consolation.
“Beside,” explained the professor, “you may possibly be of more service here than if you went along. The captain might need your aid, for we cannot tell what may happen, and you are theonly one beside Mr. Berwick who knows anything about the engine.”
“If you really think so,” reluctantly acquiesced Juarez.
“Most decidedly,” affirmed the professor. “I would advise that you get up enough steam in the boiler to sound the whistle if necessary. I don’t know that there will be any occasion for it, but if, for any reason, you should want to call us, you can give three blasts upon the whistle, and we will act accordingly.”
During this time the boys had been silently taking their positions in the small boat; Tom, by direction of the professor, in the bow, while Jo and Berwick took the oars.
“You need to keep a sharp lookout ahead,” advised the professor when they started. “We are liable to run into almost anything, and we don’t want to be caught unawares.”
“All right,” responded Tom. “I’ve got my eyes and ears wide open.”
As silently as a spectral boat, the little craft slipped through the darkness, the rowers dipping their oars almost without a creak or jar. Nevertheless they advanced rapidly toward the shorethat loomed up grim and forbidden like a wall of impenetrable darkness.
It was but a few minutes before the boat was run up on the beach at the foot of the cliffs and the party disembarked. The boat was then carried a sufficient distance on to the shore and hidden in the heavy underbrush.
“Now, boys,” began the professor when they had completed their preparations, “you are our scouts and we have to depend upon you to thwart our enemies, if they are about. Tom, you had better take the lead, and Jo will cover the rear. Instead of the long way around that you took when you last sought the smoke signal, I think we will adopt the direct and more rugged climb, as less liable to ambush. When you are ready, go ahead.”
Without making any reply, Tom, with his rifle in his hand ready for immediate use, slipped away among the bushes. Berwick followed, then the professor and Jo last. It was light enough at this time for Tom to make his way among the rocks, which at this point were piled up in great masses, covering the ground just as they had fallen from the cliffs above.
There was a semblance of a path or waythrough the rocky defile which led with many turns and twists along the course of what, in the wet season was apparently the bed of a stream, but although this roadway was less difficult to negotiate, Tom ignored it and kept to the more rugged way, skirting the bed of the water course.
Pushing on energetically, Tom opened up a gap between himself and the others for whom the professor set the pace, a less rapid one. Glancing ahead they saw that Tom had halted and was signaling for a cautious advance.
A little farther on the hum of voices broke upon their ears. They were approaching the sulphur spring, and from that direction the sound emanated. There was a babble of tongues, jabbering in some unfamiliar language.
“A party of natives at the spring,” concluded the professor.
A cautious approach brought the islanders under observation, though the professor and his party were hidden from the others. There may have been a dozen of the tribe men grouped about the spring. The one, most impressive appearing of the lot, had evidently but just completed a bath and just resumed his scanty garments which he was then adjusting. This person was not as darkof skin as those about him, and from the servilent actions of the others it could readily be assumed that he was their king or chief. None of the party were armed.
The professor viewed the scene for a brief interval, then, without hesitation stepped from behind the barrier of leaves. Instantly the islanders were alert and calls and exclamations filled the air. All were, however, silenced by the chief, who turned now for the first time and faced the visitors. To the latter’s great astonishment the chief immediately sprang forward, advancing toward the professor. Jo and Tom quickly raised their rifles, but as quickly lowered them again, when they saw that the approach was without menace.
The onlookers’ astonishment was greater still when they heard the chief in the best of English say, “My dear friend, what are you doing here?”
“Rather, may I say,” was the prompt reply, “what are you doing here, my dear Jranvin? What in all reason brought you to this end of the world?”
Thus saluted, and with further manifestations of regard, esteem and affection the two men grasped hands, and with the other hand uponeach other’s shoulders, stood thus for a full minute.
It was the professor who first bethought himself of the surroundings, and with a recognition that they were not alone upon the scene, he cried:
“Here, boys, and Berwick. Here is my old and well regarded friend. Let me make you acquainted, Jranvin, with Jo Darlington and his brother Tom and Mr. Berwick.”
Greetings were exchanged, the islanders indifferently looking on, and the professor undertook to hastily satisfy the curiosity of his friends. There was little he could say, however, and explanations had to come naturally from the chief, for such he announced himself to be.
“It’s not a long story,” he said, “my being here, and very briefly, in a nutshell, it is this——”
“Why,” broke in the professor, “when I last saw you in London, you were ill, had been ill for a long time, and in truth I may say, I never thought to see you again on this earth.”
“That’s the starting point,” said Mr. Jranvin. “I was condemned, given up to die, by slow and harrowing processes, but chance, if there ever be such a thing in this world, started me on a voyageto Japan. That’s some years ago. To Japan I never got.”
“Shipwrecked?” questioned the professor.
“You hit it. Shipwrecked, and right upon this island. And over here on our island of Rarihue we have lived ever since. My health is restored and my life is lived among my friends here, who made me their chief,” and he waved his hand to the party of islanders grouped about. “My friends they are, and as true as steel.”
“Then do you never intend to go back to your home and country?” ventured Jo.
“Home I have none, nor country. This is my world and none other am I likely to seek.”
“You do not live then on this island?”
“No, but now and then I send here or come for a supply of the waters of this wonderful mineral spring. It possesses health-giving properties that would be recognizable by any expert. Here is a chance for you, my dear friend, to make a fortune,” he said, laughing. “By the way, you have not told me yet what brought you to this far off quarter. Going to settle down and live a life that’s worth while?”
“We are looking for a fortune, and a mineral one, but not a mineral spring.”
Mr. Jranvin, or the chief, as they soon learned to call him, glanced quickly at the party and for a moment studied each face.
“All willing to jeopardize your lives for gold, and when gotten what do you do with it?”
“Why, live in comfort,” laughed the professor, “as you do.”
“Yes, as I dowithoutit,” returned the other, smilingly.
“Perhaps, though, you can help us in our search, since having no need, we cannot be robbing you.”
“You will find no treasure on this island,” was the firm response. And then he again looked intently into each of the three faces before him, ignoring only that of the professor.
“You have looked for the treasure yourself,” questioned the professor, “and there was none here?”
“Therewas,” replied the chief. “Butit is gone.”
“The fortunes of war,” said the professor lightly. “Really, though, while we have been talking we may have been devoting to you time we owe to one of our party, for our expeditionthis morning is one of search of a missing member of our company.”
The chief was then told of Jim’s probable capture by the captain of the Marjorie.
“Beauchamp, eh? So he is around again. Well, we on Rarihue concern ourselves but little with the outside world. Rarihue has no harbor and only small boats can effect a landing. Excepting for Bohoola the island we are on, and one other uninhabited island, there is no other land within two hundred miles. We are not a fighting people, and have no real need to be. I’ve taught them to fight only for their homes. But if I can help you in any way, be assured of my willingness.”
The professor told of his own ship, and the harbor where it was anchored. The “North” harbor, the chief recognized it to be. Could information be given as to the probable anchorage of the Marjorie?
“Surely. In the South harbor, which is less than a half dozen miles away, on the other side of the island. Wait a moment,” added the chief. “I will speak with my men.” This he did, and promptly reported. “Yes, there is a ship at anchorthere. It is quite certainly your objective point.”
Censuring himself for the long delay, the professor now gave the order to press on. The two old time friends, thus oddly thrown together, grasped hands and made promises to meet once more before the great oceans should separate them again.
“Tell Beauchamp,” the chief cried after them, “if you see him, that he too is too late. The treasure is gone.”
Jim had a restless night. He was sadly disappointed with himself, that he should have so carelessly allowed his enemies to triumph over him. He could not imagine for what purpose he was now detained, and he was very determined upon seeking an early opportunity to escape.
In the circumscribed quarters of the brig in which he was confined, he could move about but little. There was a small porthole, but far too small for any possibility for escape through the opening.
The night was hot and little air astir. He gazed purposelessly through the porthole, dozing anon till far after the middle of the night, he was aroused to active interest by seeing the lights of another ship. From his viewpoint, the harbor’s opening toward the sea was visible.
There was commotion now over his head, the running about of sailors, calling the captain tothe deck. The mate and others of the crew all assembled on the deck above, and very near Jim’s compartment.
The first exultant thought in Jim’s mind was that the professor with the Storm King had come to his rescue. The more logical reasoning determined that it would have been quite impossible to have accomplished any such result in so short a time. Furthermore such a move would have been foolhardy and impractical. No, there must be some other explanation to be sought.
The mysterious arrival was puzzling Captain Beauchamp and his company, who, indeed, took the new arrival to be the Storm King. This Jim readily determined by the talk of those leaning against the deck rail.
“Are you sure that no lights are showing below?” It was Beauchamp’s soft voice.
“There are no lights lit on board, sir. Your orders were that none should show in this harbor.”
“Then they can’t locate us in the dark. Before dawn have all the guns looked over and everything made in readiness for an attack.”
“Is that young fellow worth fighting for?” asked the mate.
“I thought to keep him while we looked for thecave, and his party don’t know that we have got him.”
“But they will soon find out. Any one of those Frontier Boys can follow even a rabbit trail.”
“So? I never thought of that. Well, we will make a dicker with them. If they find the treasure, and divide fairly, we will——. Say, it’s beginning to rain. Let’s get under cover. When it rains here it’s a deluge.”
Jim had listened interestedly to the conversation, and was cognizant now of the heavy downpour.
“It will make the atmosphere a little cooler,” he mused, “but it will also wash out the trail.”
With the first gleam of light, the storm having ceased, the deck was again peopled with interested spectators, and Jim, listening, was treated to a surprise that, figuratively speaking, nearly took his breath away.
“Say, it looks like—what do you make it out to be, Marion?”
“It looks like—it is, the Sea Eagle.”
“The Sea Eagle,” gasped Jim, in a barely suppressed voice. “Say, but what queer things do happen,” and once more a breath of exultant joy possessed him. Then the misery of his situationreasserted itself. Here was his own ship near at hand, and he a helpless prisoner, and he fairly raged and struck the cabin door with impotent fury.
Later on, as the light increased, he was able to see his beloved ship clearly outlined against the sky, and, closely observant of all that transpired, he saw Broome himself, giving directions from the bridge.
Signals were evidently exchanged between the two ships, for later, Broome was seen to enter a small boat which was rowed toward the Marjorie.
Jim had nothing to do for a while. He surveyed the surface of the bay for signs of breaking fish, or the splash of a vagrant water bird, dreaming of the possibilities built on the hope of repossessing himself of the Sea Eagle.
Then again came the sound of voices on deck. The two captains were in conference.
“A big storm,” Jim heard Captain Broome say. “We weathered it well, but the Swedish bark which we had sighted had been for some time in distress, could not stand the strain and had to be abandoned.”
“Then you have all the crew of the lost ship aboard?”
“What could we do but lend a hand?” said Captain Broome in an apologetic tone, as if deploring the necessity for an ordinary humanitarian act.
“How large a crew, and who is their commander?”
“A dozen of the beggars and blessed with appetites that are insatiable. Captain ter Tofte Luhrensen was in command. He was also the owner of the lost vessel.”
“And what do you propose to do with them?”
“Why do you ask?” was Broome’s diplomatic response.
“I just thought you might have in mind the leaving of the crowd on this island.”
“Well, I might, if you wish me to.”
“And I just don’t wish it. I have got trouble enough with the professor’s crew.”
“So Featheringstone is here? Has he located the treasure?”
“Not yet. Well, there’s lots of things to talk over, my dear Broome. Let’s have a spread, a feast. Get your sister and her husband, and we will discuss the situation over a bowl of punch.”
“I’m with you, and send your crew over to the Sea Eagle. Let them have a jollification.”
Jim could but faintly hear their voices now, for the speakers had moved aft. He had noticed one point in particular. Beauchamp had never referred to the fact that a prisoner was confined on the deck beneath him.
Now, to Jim’s mind came the insistent need to escape, and very carefully he examined every surface, angle and crevice of his prison. All this was unavailing, however. Surely it was a hard fate that he must sit there so helplessly. His only dependency evidently was upon help to come from the outside. One thing he determined to do, however. When the door of his cabin was opened for any purpose he would make a break for liberty, and fight his way, if need be, single-handed.
But if breakfast was to be brought to him to afford this needed opportunity, it was long deferred. Three hours, he estimated, had passed thus. During this time he had seen Red Annie and her husband rowed to the Marjorie. The Swedes in a long boat were busily occupied in bringing fresh water in casks from the shore to the Sea Eagle, and on board the latter the jollification was decidedly in progress as he could both see and hear.
On board the Marjorie, all was quiet. He couldoccasionally hear the murmur of voices, but nothing more. Looking just now toward the Sea Eagle he saw that the combined crews of the two ships were manning the long boat.
There was scarcely a man among them now who could be regarded as moderately sober. The majority were immoderately intoxicated. They were singing ribald songs and the recitative, between the melodies was composed of oaths such as Jim had never heard. The men in the long boat did not succeed in getting clear of the Sea Eagle without some violent altercations, first with the Swedes and then among themselves. The jovial songs were quickly abandoned in favor of yells and shouts and threats, oars were freely and indiscriminately used, and there seemed to be a breaking of heads all around.
“There seems to be a regular melee,” thought Jim, as he stood by the porthole, observing the lively scene. He watched the men leap from thwart to thwart of the boat and make for one another like bulldogs. He thought he knew exactly how the fight would end, and it did end precisely as he anticipated.
More than a dozen men cannot carry on a naval engagement of that sort for a long time withoutan accident of some kind, and no one had reason to be surprised when an unsteady man, balancing himself on an unsteady gunwhale, to strike at a particular “friend” with a heavy oar, failed in his aim, and went headlong into the water; nor was it in any way unnatural or contrary to the laws of gravitation that the bow of the boat on being released of his weight, should jump up, thereby interfering with the man who was balancing himself astern and sending him overboard with equal dispatch.
Just at that moment, Jim was startled by a voice close beside him, for he had had no intimation that anyone was about. Turning quickly, he discovered that a small panel in his door had been slid aside and a plate of food was pushed through and into his extended hands.
Needless to say, the food was welcome, but the method of serving dashed away the hope and plan of escape he had had, and so ardently counted upon. But the voice! That he recognized as familiar, although he did not at once remember to whom it belonged. Suddenly he knew. It was the steward, Pedro, come probably to mock him in his captivity. He never had liked the man. His unvarying servilitude, and now the fullknowledge of his treachery to his employer thoroughly awakened all his ire.
“I have brought you this food.”
Jim could not refrain from hissing from between his clenched teeth, “You traitor!”
An arduous tramp of a half hour brought the professor and his party to the base of the steep incline that led to their objective point. Here they halted a moment for a rest and looked about them. The side of the cliff, which was two or three hundred feet in height, was heavily wooded and ran upward at an acute angle, but with several ledges that stretched across the face so that an ascent was possible, but only at the expense of a considerable journey. Steady effort, going from one ledge to another, climbing through crevices and around projecting barriers finally brought them to the summit. Here, on a small open space, they found the remains of the fire which had been the source of the column of smoke, the embers, notwithstanding the wetting they had had, still giving out a little vapor.
“Well, boys, we can go no higher except by the aid of the branches of the trees.”
“I was considering which tree to climb,” responded Tom. “That one on the point is the highest, but the one nearer us we climbed before and is the easiest to get up.”
“Let it be the highest,” determined the professor.
It was not an easy task they had undertaken, as the trees were several feet in diameter, without a branch for eighteen or twenty feet from the base; but the boys, with the aid of Berwick and the professor, by dint of clinging like flies to each little projection in the trunk, managed to get a hold on the lower branches and pull themselves up into the trees; then by degrees to the highest point that could safely be reached.
“Phew,” said Tom, who was the first to get to a place where he could look off over the surrounding country, “what do you think of that?”
“What is it?” panted Jo.
“Look there!” answered Tom. “Looks as though we had our work cut out for us.”
“It does look interesting,” coincided Jo, who had gotten up to where he could see about.
Away off to the south, a distance of about five miles in a small harbor lay two ships, one of which, even at that distance, the boys had no difficultyin recognizing as the Marjorie. They were riding quietly at anchor, but there were small boats passing to and fro between the two vessels and the shore.
They also noted that the mountains extended to the south, with another range a little farther away, beyond which the ground sloped away again down to a nearly level plain, which ran away to the water’s edge. The mountains were heavily wooded, and the plains or more level surfaces, as well. To the east the mountains appeared to extend in an unbroken range to the shore.
“Well,” said the professor, when they had climbed down. “What did you find out?”
“The Marjorie is off there,” replied Tom.
“And another, vessel, too,” added Jo.
“Humph!” ejaculated the professor, “this doesn’t seem to be any place for us!”
“But what about Jim?” asked Tom.
“Oh, that’s another matter,” said the professor, in a whimsical way he had when confronted by a serious problem. “One thing at a time, you know.”
“How do you think they know we were here?” asked Berwick.
“I have it!” cried Tom, excitedly, “The smoke!”
“What about it?” said Jo.
“Why, don’t you see,” responded Tom. “It was a signal.”
“Well, suppose it was, what has that got to do with them?”
“Everything,” replied Tom. “That was a sign that the Storm King was here.”
“But who did it?” persisted Jo.
“That villain of a steward,” asserted Tom. “You know that someone on board was signalling to the Marjorie, and just as soon as we got in here he made some pretense to get ashore.”
“Tom is right,” agreed Berwick.
“I knew it was him,” lamented Tom, “and to think we let him get away.”
“I am afraid that that was because of my over-confidence,” admitted the professor, “but I was deceived in him. He had been to the South Seas with me, you know.”
“Well, it can’t be helped now,” declared Jo, philosophically. “The question is, what is the next thing to do?”
“Let us make a reconnoitre down by the harbor, and see what we can find out,” suggested Berwick.“Perhaps we might get an opportunity to capture a prisoner or two that we could hold as a hostage for Jim.”
“That’s a good scheme,” agreed the professor.
“I hope we can get a hold on that villain of a steward,” cried Tom, vindictively.
“Or that imp, Manuel,” added Jo.
“Don’t speak of him,” remonstrated Berwick. “It is like a premonition of evil whenever I hear his name.”
“Come on,” said Tom, picking up his rifle. “The sooner we get there, the better.”
As they journeyed toward the harbor, the professor related to the others the facts concerning his acquaintance with Mr. Jranvin, now the chief of Rarihue. He spoke of his fine character, and recalled his long struggle with adversity because of inherited pulmonary trouble.
“And do you really believe that he knows about the treasure and that it is gone?” asked Tom.
“I believe that he speaks of what he knows, but I think it not unlikely that he could tell, if he would, where it is gone.”
“Then is our venture a failure?”
“Who can tell? Anyway we shall not give up the search.”
As there seemed reasonable assurance that they were alone in the forest, they advanced rapidly and exercised no special caution till they were nearing the harbor. Approaching the fringe of wood near the water’s edge, they carefully made their way to a point where an unobstructed view was had of the bay. Tom was the first to announce to the others the identity of the other vessel they had seen from the tree top.
“By all that is wonderful! If there isn’t the Sea Eagle just moving out of the harbor!”
“The Sea Eagle? Well, this is hard,” said Jo. “Just to arrive in time to see her sailing away.”
“And what a row they are having on board the Marjorie; looks like a regular mutiny,” cried Berwick.
The panorama on the bay, which was being enacted before them, was one of startling interest. What had happened to have brought the now disappearing Sea Eagle to the harbor they could not determine, but disorder and confusion was apparent on the Marjorie’s decks.
“Captain Beauchamp is not to be seen,” said the professor. “There seems to be merely a lot of sailors, and it looks as if two factions were contending for the mastery.”
“Jim is not there,” said Jo, sadly. “I wonder what has become of him?”
“Probably he is still a prisoner, and we—hush! There is somebody moving through the woods!”
Some one was approaching, but in a slow and hesitating manner, yet making no effort at concealment.
“It is the steward,” whispered Jo, after a moment. “Be ready, Tom, we will get him for sure!”
Absolutely motionless they all were until the steward had come to within a dozen feet of where they lay hidden, then, as he turned to move in another direction, Jo and Tom, at a signal from the former, sprang to their feet and with one bound were upon their intended prisoner. They bore him to the earth and held him secure, while Berwick quickly bound his hands behind his back.
Greatly to the surprise of all, the steward offered no resistance and made no effort whatever to escape. He hung his head on seeing whom his captors were and looked like a man suffering abjectly.
“Quick, you villain,” cried Jo, grasping his arm. “Where is my brother?”
Without hesitation came the answer, “He is quite safe. He has escaped.”
“How can we know?”
The steward looked only at the professor and for answer said, “May I speak with you alone for a moment?”
“Certainly not. Say openly what you have to say,” was the answer.
“I think,” interposed Berwick, “I would grant his request. It can do no harm.”
The boys and Berwick separated, each taking a few steps in different directions so as to prevent any possible attempt at escape.
The two thus left alone, although under close observation, conversed earnestly for a few moments, and then the professor called the others together.
“It is a deplorable matter,” said the professor. “This man is deserving of condemnation and of punishment. He has been a traitor to our cause, but he admits fully his crime and wants to atone in any way he can. Jim, he says, was confined on board the Marjorie, but he himself helped him to escape and he believes that Jim is now safe and sound, probably by this time on board the Storm King.”
“How can we be sure of that?” Jo asked.
“We have only this man’s word, and in a sense his word is valueless, but he can go with us and we can deal with him accordingly, if he tells not the truth.”
“What’s happening on the Marjorie?” asked Berwick.
The steward did not know. He told of liberating Jim, who had gotten into the Sea Eagle’s dory, and had ordered the two Swedes who manned the oars, and who of course did not know him, to row him ashore. The steward, filled with remorse for his treachery to the professor, had later swam to the land and, uncertain what to do, now really welcomed his capture.
“We will leave your fate to later consideration,” said the professor, “and if Jim is not found on board, it will go hard with you.”
The other made no protest to this decision and promptly they undertook the return journey to their ship.
Every precaution was taken to prevent the escape of the steward, but he made no effort in that direction. He walked with bowed head, misery in his face and manner.
Fully two thirds of their return journey hadbeen accomplished when they were startled by the sound of three long blasts from the Storm King whistle. What new danger might portend?
Onward now they pressed with the utmost speed, and arriving at the water’s edge they saw the welcome sight of the Storm King riding safely at anchor, and recognized two familiar figures on the bridge. Jim was one, safe and sound to all appearances, and the other Jranvin, the Rarihue chief.
Another sight greeted their eyes. It was two long, rakish crafts, manned by many dusky islanders which lay peacefully enough along side the big ship.
In a brief interval all were on board and explanations were in order. Jim was uproariously welcomed and quickly told his story, which brought astonishment to the ears of his listeners. Briefly this was his tale: The steward had unlocked his door and paved the way for his escape, but Jim had not rowed ashore. He had observed the contending factions of the two ships, who having rescued from the water those who had fallen overboard from the long boat, for the nonce fraternized and were bent on a visit to the Marjorie for further orgies and libations.
Noting the absence of Broome’s men from the decks of the Sea Eagle, Jim had quickly changed his plan. He had ordered his two oarsmen to row him to that vessel. On the deck he had found only the Swedes and their commander, Captain Luhrensen. Boarding the ship, Jim had said: “I am the owner of this boat.”
It was an astonishing declaration, but Jim drew from his pocket papers which bore out his assertion, and he soon won to his standard the ship-wrecked commander, and with him, of course, went his crew. At once the ship had been gotten under way. Broome and his crew were all on board the Marjorie. It was evident that Beauchamp and Broome and other officers were securely imprisoned in the Marjorie cabin while the sailors were discussing with more or less forceful animation their next move.
Jim, with the decks of his beloved Sea Eagle once more beneath his feet, had made all speed under sail and steam to the entrance of the harbor where lay the Storm King, and had come aboard to report his safety and the successful outcome of his venture.
One startling tale had scarcely been assimilated when another was offered for their consideration.
The chief of Rarihue stepped forward and embracing the professor, said: “You remember this morning I told you that the treasure for which you sought had gone? It is gone from the cave in which you hoped to find it. But I will tell you now, I am the present possessor.”
“Then I congratulate you most heartily,” responded the professor. “May you live long and enjoy it.”
The chief shook his head, smiling the while. “I may find use for a little of this wealth,” he said, “and I am going to ask you, my dear friend, to take it back with you.”
“I will most gladly do your bidding.”
“And fairly rewarded you shall be. I can trust you and I like the looks of your associates.” Saying this, he walked to the gunwale and called in their native tongue to the occupants in the boats.
Upon his order, many bags of woven grass, their contents of considerable weight, were hoisted aboard.
“Ten per cent of what this realizes, and I think there is value to a quarter of a million, I want deposited to my credit in the Bank of England. I may never call for it, butall the remainder is yours.”
“Hurrah for the chief of Rarihue!” cried Tom, and a right ringing cheer was given.
“And now,” said Jim, “we must not tarry here. Professor, you have won out and do not need me any longer. I have my Sea Eagle and her papers indent her to Cuba. With Captain ter Tofte Luhrensen as sailing master, to Cuba she shall go.”
To Cuba the Sea Eagle did go, as those interested in the fortunes of the Frontier Boys may learn in a volume to follow, “The Frontier Boys in Cuba.”
“You are released, albeit with reluctance,” slowly answered the professor, “and my thanks for your valued aid. Your share of our success will be deposited in the Bank of America, New York, against your homecoming.”
“And whom can you spare to go with me, and who wants to go to fight for freedom’s cause?”
Jo and Juarez were quickly by his side and with less alacrity, Tom joined them. All looked at Berwick.
“Mine for a quiet life,” said that worthy, laughing. “I shall stay by the professor.”
A word more as to the steward. After careful consideration and a talk with Mr. Jranvin, he wasleft with the islanders. He deserved punishment, but his belated renunciation of his evil ways and his helpfulness to Jim were taken into account.
As Jim had said, there was no time to be wasted, and within an hour adieux had been said, and the two ships were steaming in absolutely diverse directions, the one to San Francisco and the other to Cuba.
Changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent.