THE GOLDEN GALLEON.
A sharp hail from Harry, who had the glasses, aroused Frank from a
reverie into which he had fallen as the Golden Eagle skimmed along. It
was some time since she had left the ill-fated Durham Castle.
"Look, Frank,--here, take the glasses," the younger boy cried
excitedly,--"there's a queer-looking ship dead ahead of us--can she be
the Buena Ventura?"
Frank surrendered the wheel to Harry and gave the object a prolonged
scrutiny. Then he handed the glasses to Ben with a quiet:
"What do you make of her, Ben."
The old sailor held the glasses to his eyes for a space of ten seconds
or more and then turned to the boys with an excited look on his face.
"Whatever she is, she is no modern ship," he cried, "she's got a high
stern on her like a castle, and her masts and rigging are like no ship
that sails the sea to-day."
"There's another ship over on the horizon," cried Harry, "looks like a
wreck."
Ben took the glasses once more.
"It's the wreck of a barque," he announced. "Guess it's the one that
Bluewater Bill was cast away on. If it is, that must be the galleon
over yonder, 'cause Bill said she was close to his ship, and I guess
vessels don't change their relative positions much in this place."
As the Golden Eagle rapidly approached the ancient vessel the boys
went nearly wild with excitement.
The glasses were constantly trained on her and when Harry, who had
kept the binoculars fixed on the vessel's stern, announced in a voice
that quivered with suspense:
"I can see her name--it's Buena Ventura all right," they all broke
into a shout.
[Illustration: "I can see her name--it's Buena Ventura all right."]
The goal was reached at last then.
Frank sent the Golden Eagle swinging in a long graceful circle round
the galleon, from whose tall masts still hung fragments of rotting
sails, and finally settled alongside her towering wooden sides, which
still bore tracings of the gilding and paint with which the old
Spaniards loved to decorate their vessels. Her lofty stern was a mass
of splendid carving and gilt work. In its centre, in faded paint was
the figure of a woman, surrounded by stars and other heavenly bodies.
The vessel's stern cabin windows also were richly embossed and gilded.
"If there's as much gold inside her as there is out we'll all be
millionaires!" exclaimed Ben.
"How are we going to get aboard?" questioned Frank, as he gazed at the
high, smooth sides.
"Yes, that's a problem. I don't see the rope Bluewater Bill used
either. It must have rotted away," rejoined Ben.
"Let's circle round her," he went on, "maybe I can see a foothold and
then I can get aboard and let down a rope to you boys."
Accordingly, the Golden Eagle was steered slowly round the great hull,
and finally Ben selected a place to clamber up among the fretwork
below the heel of the bowsprit. With a nimble leap he was soon
clinging to the heavy carving, and rapidly swarming hand over hand to
the galleon's deck. When he reached it, he flung down a rope with
which the Golden Eagle was made fast to the galleon's side, and in a
few minutes the boys stood by his side on the moldering deck.
As it was getting dark, there was not time to do a great deal that
night. All they found opportunity to accomplish, in fact, was a brief
exploration of the main cabin, which was magnificently hung in silks
and velvets once splendid, now mildewed and rotting. The decorations
of the place had been sumptuous evidently.
In the rear of the cabin was a pile of ancient-looking chests, heavily
strapped with iron, and with great brass locks curiously carved
affixed to them.
"The treasure chests!" cried Harry, trembling with excitement.
All three of the adventurers hurried across the cabin. In the
afternoon-light that streamed through the stern-windows Frank fell on
his knees and eagerly tried to wrench one of the locks off. Aged as it
was, however, it resisted his exertions.
"Hold on!" cried Ben. "I'll get it off." He raised his heavily booted
foot, as Frank drew back, and brought it down with a crash on the
massive brasswork. With a rending and tearing of the worm-eaten wood
the lock ripped loose and the lid, operated by some concealed spring,
flew open.
The boys gave a shout of disappointment. Nothing in the way of
treasure lay revealed--only a faded velvet cloak edged with tarnished
lace.
"Wait a bit," cried Ben tearing off the cloak. "Ah!--"
A different sort of shout came from the boys' throats then. Beneath
the cloak lay candle-sticks, gold and silver, great vases, gleaming
dull yellow in the mellow light of the gloomy beamed cabin, bowls of
the precious metal, splendidly carved, and small parchment bags
bulging with the varied shapes of the coins they contained.
The boys dragged the contents of the chest and spread it in a
glittering pile.
"So it was no dream of Bluewater Bill's after all," exclaimed Harry.
So excited were they that the boys were anxious to go ahead with the
work of breaking open more treasure chests that night; but they
yielded to Ben's entreaties and agreed to have supper and a good
night's rest before they proceeded to their task. After a meal of
bacon, coffee, bread and preserved fruit, cooked on the gasolene stove
of the Golden Eagle, the boys professed themselves ready for bed.
"Better sleep aboard the galleon," said Ben.
"Why?" asked Frank.
"Why, we don't want any of those devil-fish coming snooping around in
the night, do we?" asked the old sailor, "and they might, if we slept
so near the water."
"I should say not," exclaimed Harry, with a shudder at the bare idea.
"Say Frank," exclaimed the younger lad, an hour later, when they were
snuggled under blankets--for there is a heavy dew and night chill on
the Sargasso--on the deck of the Buena Ventura, "what would you do if
the door of the cabin yonder should suddenly open and an old don all
in armor should come stalking out and say:
"'Get hence, get hence, young marauders, and leave my treasure
untroubled!'"
"I'd offer him a ride in the Golden Eagle to clear the cobwebs out of
his brain," said Frank sleepily.
The treasure hunters were astir early the next day and immediately
after breakfast--a hearty meal cooked on the Golden Eagle's
stove,--had been despatched they were ready for work.
It had been determined to go at the task systematically, so Frank in a
notebook, checked off the articles as chest after chest of valuable
gold and plate was dragged from the galleon's cabin. He soon had his
book full and was compelled to borrow a small pocket diary from his
brother.
"I say, Frank!" exclaimed Harry, as he and Ben drew from the moldering
chests piece after piece of dull golden ornaments, some of them
studded with jewels that blazed as they caught the sun. "What should
you say this stuff was worth, as far as we have gone?"
"Every bit of $50,000 I should imagine," replied the elder boy,
"although I'm not much of a judge in such matters."
"Hurray, Ben! that will make us all rich," shouted Harry.
"Say," remarked Ben, pausing in his task of emptying a squat chest,
marked, Don Ramon De Guzman, Sevilla, "you don't think I'm going to
touch any of this loot do you? It all belongs to you boys and
Bluewater Bill, and I've no right to a cent's worth of it. The
excitement is enough for old Ben Stubbs."
"Well, you've got a nerve!" cried Frank, "to think that you are not
going to get a share. Why we are all in on this, and, when we have all
the stuff out and get it valued, we'll divide it up in fair
proportion."
"You won't get me to take any of it," grumbled old Ben obstinately,
grubbing away in the treasure-filled box.
"We shall see about that," said Frank, who knew it was useless to
argue with the old sailor.
As they worked feverishly, from time to time gazing at the sky in
apprehension of the appearance of Luther Barr's dirigible, the
adventurers had an illustration of the manner in which the old
Spaniards guarded their treasure that came very near having a tragical
termination.
Ben Stubbs had hammered off the lock of a huge chest, with a
semi-circular top, and was in the act of flinging back the lid, when
he stopped short with an exclamation. It was fortunate for him that he
paused, for as he did so, the lid, actuated by some hidden mechanism,
swung back and a steel arm, tipped with sharp prongs, shot out. Had
the sailor been less nimble the device would undoubtedly have caved
his skull in. As it was, it missed him only by an inch.
"Well, that's a nice murderous contrivance," gasped the astonished
sailor.
An examination showed the boys that the tips of the prongs were
stained and they had little doubt, as they examined it, that the marks
were those of human blood. The life fluid of some old-time marauder
who had paid with his life for his attempt to rifle the chest. The
death-bearing arm, they discovered, was actuated by levers and
springs, connecting with the lifting mechanism of the lid. The boys
were compelled to admit, as they examined the device, that fiendish as
it was it had been designed by a master mechanic of his time.
As they worked, you may imagine, the boys swept the sky for a sign of
Luther Barr's dirigible, but not a trace of her did they discover that
day.
"It begins to look as if we had beaten Luther Barr this time," cried
Harry, exultingly.
"Don't be too sure," was Frank's cautious reply. "He is capable of
going to any lengths to satisfy his lust for gold, and I am sure he
would stop at nothing to get the treasure from us. We may have a lot
of trouble on our hands yet."
The treasure as it was catalogued was placed in canvas sacks brought
for the purpose, and by supper time that night all the chests had been
pretty well emptied and the sacks lay distributed in such a manner as
not to interfere with her equilibrium on the Golden Eagle's deck.
"It's going to make a heavy load," said Frank, shaking his head as he
looked at the pile.
"We've got to take it all out at once, however," said Ben, "or we
would be pretty sure not to find any when we came back."
"It's very certain that Barr cannot be far off," said Harry, gazing
about at the opal sunset sky.
"Well, if he comes to-morrow he'll come too late," said Frank, "for
we'll be far away from here by then. I intend to sail at dawn."
"That's the idea," was Ben's comment, "no use wasting time on a job of
this sort. It's a good thing the weather has kept so clear, otherwise
we might have had trouble; aside from old Barr's brand."
"I must confess it was a surprise to me to find that he had not
reached here ahead of us," went on Frank; "you know we lost a lot of
time in that storm."
"Maybe something went wrong with the dirigible before they started,"
suggested Harry.
"I guess that must be it," said Ben; "otherwise you can bet he'd have
gotten on more of a hustle than this."
"Well, I'm just as well content with things as they are," commented
Harry, "in fact it would not grieve me much to hear that his old
balloon had tumbled into the ocean, crew and all."
Supper was soon despatched that evening, and the boys turned in early.
They slept soundly, but toward midnight Frank had a queer dream. It
seemed to him that he was on board the rat ship once more and that
scores of the rodents they had battled with were again overwhelming
him. He battled bravely with the hosts but they were too many for him.
Just as it seemed that all was over, however, he heard a voice say,
"Hold on there!"
So startlingly clear was the voice that Frank awoke as it uttered the
words and almost gave a cry, which he instantly checked, as he
perceived that it was no dream-voice he had heard.
As he listened intently he heard the voice once more.
"Hold on there--this is it."
The words seemed to come from overhead.
Gazing upward, the boy saw, hovering between the deck of the galleon
and the stars, a large black object.
He instantly knew it for what it was.
Luther Barr's air-ship!