That evening, in the seclusion of their apartment at Carvel Hall, they
took Axtell into their confidence--to a certain extent (though, again,
he protested his willingness simply to obey orders). They told him, in
a general way, of Parmenter's bequest, and how Croyden came to be the
legatee--saying nothing of its great value, however--its location, the
loss of the letter the previous evening, the episode of the thieves on
the Point, that morning, and their evident intention to return to the
quest.
"Now, what we want to know is: are you ready to help us--unaided by the
law--to seize these men and hold them prisoners, while we search for
the treasure?" Croyden asked. "We may be killed in the attempt, or we
may kill one or both of them, and have to stand trial if detected. If
you don't want to take the risk, you have only to decline--and hold
your tongue."
"My dear Mr. Croyden!" said Axtell, "I don't want you to pay me a
cent--just give me my board and lodging and I'll gladly aid you as long
as necessary. It's a very little thing to do for one who has lost so
much through us. You provide for our defense, if we're apprehended by
the law, and _that_" (snapping his fingers) "for the risk."
Croyden held out his hand.
"We'll shake hands on that, Axtell, if you please," he said; "and, if
we recover what Parmenter buried, you'll not regret it."
The following morning saw them down at the Point with the equipage and
other paraphernalia. The men, whom they had brought from Annapolis for
the purpose, pitched the tents under the trees, ditched them, received
their pay, climbed into the wagons and rumbled away to town--puzzled
that anyone should want to camp on Greenberry Point when they had the
price of a hotel, and three square meals a day.
"It looks pretty good," said Croyden, when the canvases were up and
everything arranged--"and we shan't lack for the beautiful in nature.
This is about the prettiest spot I've ever seen, the Chesapeake and the
broad river--the old town and the Academy buildings--the warships at
anchor--the _tout ensemble!_ We may not find the treasure, but, at
least, we've got a fine camp--though, I reckon, it is a bit breezy when
the wind is from the Bay."
"I wonder if we should have paid our respects to the Superintendent
before poaching on his preserves?" said Macloud.
"Hum--hadn't thought of that!" Croyden answered. "Better go in and show
ourselves to him, this afternoon. He seems to be something of a
personage down here, and we don't want to offend him. These naval
officers, I'm told, are sticklers for dignity and the prerogatives due
their rank."
"Hold on!" exclaimed Macloud. "On that score, we've got some rank
ourselves to uphold."
"What!" said Croyden.
"Certainly! the Chairman of the Committee on Naval Affairs, of the
United States Senate, is with us. According to the regulations, is it
his duty to call _first_ on the Superintendent?--that's the point."
"Give it up!" laughed Croyden. "However, the Superintendent has a copy
of the letter, and he will know the ropes. We will wait a day, then, if
he's quiescent, it's up to us."
"Great head!" laughed Macloud. "You should have been a diplomat,
Croyden--nothing less than an Ambassadorship for you, my boy!"
Croyden smiled.
"A motor boat would be mighty convenient to go back and forth to
Annapolis," he said. "Look at the one cutting through the water there,
midway across!"
It came nearer, halted a little way off in deep water, and an officer
in uniform swept the tents and them with a glass. Then the boat put
about and went chugging upstream.
"We didn't seem to please him," remarked Macloud, gazing after the
boat. Suddenly it turned in toward shore and made the landing at the
Experiment Station.
"We are about to be welcomed or else ordered off--I'll take a bet
either way," said Macloud.
"Welcomed!" Croyden responded. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have
despatched an officer--it would have been a file of marines instead.
You haven't lost the permit, Macloud!"
"You don't seem very sure!" Macloud laughed.
Presently, the officer appeared, walking rapidly down the roadway. As
soon as he sighted the tents, he swung over toward them. Macloud went a
few steps forward to meet him.
"Is this Senator Rickrose?" the Lieutenant inquired.
"No," said Macloud. "Senator Rickrose isn't coming until later. I am
one of his friends, Colin Macloud, and this is Mr. Croyden and Mr.
Axtell."
"Very glad to meet you, gentlemen!" said the Lieutenant. "The
Superintendent presents his compliments and desires to place himself
and the Academy at your disposal." (He was instructed to add, that
Captain Boswick would pay his respects to-morrow, having been called to
Washington to-day by an unexpected wire, but the absence of the
Chairman of the Naval Affairs Committee rendered it unnecessary.)
"Thank Captain Boswick, for Senator Rickrose and us, and tell him we
appreciate his kindness exceedingly," Macloud answered. "We're camping
here for a week or so, to try sleeping in the open, under sea air.
We're not likely to prove troublesome!" he added.
Then they took several drinks, and the aide departed.
"So far, we're making delightful progress," said Croyden; "but there
are breakers ahead when Hook-nose and his partner get in the game.
Suppose we inspect the premises and see if they have been here in our
absence."
They went first to the place where they had seen them conceal the
tools--these were gone; proof that the thieves had paid a second visit
to the Point. But, search as they might, no evidence of work was
disclosed.
"What does it mean?" said Croyden. "Have they abandoned the quest?"
"Not very likely," replied Macloud, "with half a million at stake. They
probably are seeking information; when they have it, we shall see them
back again."
"Suppose they bring four or five others to help them?"
"They won't--never fear!--they're not sharing the treasure with any one
else. Rather, they will knife each other for it. Honor among thieves is
like the Phoenix--it doesn't exist."
"If the knifing business were to occur before the finding, it would
help some!" laughed Croyden. "Meantime, I'm going to look at the ruins
of the light-house. I discovered in an almanac I found in the hotel
last night, that the original light-house was erected on Greenberry
Point in 1818. This fact may help us a lot."
They went out to the extreme edge, and stood gazing across the shoals
toward the ruins.
"What do you make the distance from the land?" Croyden asked.
"About one hundred yards--but it's very difficult to estimate over
water. It may be two hundred for all I can tell."
"It is exactly three hundred and twenty-two feet from the Point to the
near side of the ruins," said Croyden.
"Why not three hundred and twenty-two and a half feet!" scoffed
Macloud.
"I measured it this morning while you were dawdling over your
breakfast," answered Croyden.
"Hitched a line to the land and waded out, I suppose."
"Not exactly; I measured it on the Government map of the Harbor. It
gives the distance as three hundred and twenty-two feet, in plain
figures."
"I said you had a great head!" Macloud exclaimed. "Now, what's the rest
of the figures--or haven't you worked it out?"
Croyden drew out a paper. "The calculation is of value only on the
assumption--which, however, is altogether reasonable--that the
light-house, when erected, stood on the tip of the Point. It is now
three hundred and twenty-two feet in water. Therefore, dividing
ninety-two--the number of years since erection--into three hundred and
twenty-two, gives the average yearly encroachment of the Bay as three
and a half feet. Parmenter buried the casket in 1720, just a hundred
and ninety years ago; so, multiplying a hundred and ninety by three and
a half feet gives six hundred and sixty-five feet. In other words, the
Point, in 1720, projected six hundred and sixty-five feet further out
in the Bay than it does to-day."
"Then, with the point moved in six hundred and sixty-five feet
Parmenter's beeches should be only eighty-five feet from the shore
line, instead of seven hundred and fifty!" Macloud reflected.
"Just so!" said Croyden.
"But where are the beeches?" asked Axtell.
"Disappeared!" Croyden replied. "As the Point from year to year slipped
into the Bay, the fierce gales, which sweep up the Chesapeake,
gradually ate into the timber. It is seventy years, at least, since
Parmenter's beeches went down."
"Why shouldn't the Duvals have noticed the encroachment of the Bay, and
made a note of it on the letter?" Macloud asked.
"Probably, because it was so gradual they did not observe it. They,
likely, came to Annapolis only occasionally, and Greenberry Point
seemed unchanged--always the same narrow stretch of sand, with large
trees to landward."