"MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD"
Curlie, obeying her instructions, read on and with every line his
conviction grew stronger that the conclusions he had come to were well
formed.
This is what he read:
"Having spent Good Friday with his family, our captain, deeming further
delay but loss of time, determined to cast anchor and sail for the coast
of Ireland. Here he hoped to do a brisk business at barter with the
peasants and fisher-folk who inhabit the shores.
"But Providence had determined otherwise. Hardly had we been from shore
a half day's journey, when, without warning, from out the night there
rose a great tumult. This tumult, coming as it did from the shore,
grasped us in its mighty arms and hurled us league by league in
directions that we would not go. And being exceedingly tossed with the
tempest we lightened the ship. On the fourth day we, with our own hand,
cast out the tackle of the ship. And when not sun nor moon nor stars had
appeared for many days, we counted ourselves for lost; for, having been
carried straight away these many days, we expected nothing but that we
would come soon to that dark and dreadful place which is the end of all
land and all seas."
"Isn't it wonderful?" whispered the girl.
Curlie was too much absorbed to answer her.
"When we had given up all hope," he read on, "Markus Laplone, a very old
seaman, said we were nearing some land.
"We took soundings and found it forty fathoms. Then again it was thirty.
Then with hopeful hearts we looked for that land. But when at last it
broke through the fog it was no land that any of the men had seen, no,
not the oldest seaman.
"But fearing to be cast upon rocks, we kept a good watch that we might
find some harbor. At last we were rewarded, for to the right of us there
was a river flowing into the sea.
"The storm having somewhat abated, we took oars, such as had not been
broken by the storm, and some with two men to the oar and some with but
one, we made shift to enter this river; having accomplished which, we
dropped anchor and gave thanks to God for the preservation of our lives.
"Now, on coming on shore we found this to be indeed a strange land. Not
alone were the trees and all vegetation of a sort unknown to us, but the
barbarians who came about us were of a complexion such as not one man of
us had ever before beheld.
"And, what was more astounding, as we made a fire to cook us food, there
passed by us bearing on their backs strangely woven baskets, a caravan
of these half-naked barbarians. And, when we motioned to show them we
would see within his basket, one of these lowered his basket.
"What we saw astounded us much, for it was all filled with finely-beaten
gold. The fellow had as much of it as a stout sailor would be able to
carry. And there were many such baskets.
"When I made as though I would take the gold, he became very angry, and
would have struck me down with an ugly spear which he bore.
"But when I laughed, making as though it were a joke, he gave me a small
piece, the which is at this time in my possession, as proof that what I
have written here is truth and no lie.
"Now this island I have shown on the map, the nether side upon which I
am writing, as a star with six points to it; though the shore marking
nor the extent of the island is as yet unknown to any but those
barbarians who live upon it."
There ended the main portion of the story, but in a bracket at the
bottom was written:
"In some other place will be found the account of our miraculous return
from this strange and mysterious island of many barbarians and much
gold."
As Curlie finished, he glanced up with a sigh.
The girl was staring at him so intently that he could not but think she
was attempting to read his thoughts.
"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed at last.
"Yes," said Curlie quickly, "you expressed it even better before. It's
great!"
He looked away. His head was in a whirl It was the long-lost map; he was
sure of that now. He remembered the figures he had copied from that
other reproduction. They were blurred and unreadable on this one. Should
he tell her?
His lips opened but no sound came out. No, he would not tell her, not at
this time. There might be some other way.
"Your brother and his chum," he said evenly, "have gone in search of
that island of gold."
She stared at him in silence.
"If they haven't gone already, they may be gone before we reach the
coast," he continued. "They will probably go in Alfred Brightwood's
seaplane."
"Yes, yes," she broke her spell of silence. "That is the way they would
go. It's--it's a wonderful plane! You--you don't think anything could
happen to them, do you?"
"Supposing they do not find the island?"
"But they will."
"It is to be hoped that they will find an island--some island."
"It's a wonderful plane. It would cross the Atlantic!" She clasped and
unclasped her hands.
"But supposing," he rose from his chair in his excitement, "supposing
they don't find the island exactly where they expect to find it?
Supposing, in their eagerness to find that gold, they circle and circle
and circle in search of the island until there is no longer any gas in
the tank to bring them home."
"Oh, you don't think that!" She sprang to her feet and, gripping his
arm to steady herself, looked up into his eyes. There was a
heartbreaking appeal in those blue eyes of hers.
"I think," said Curlie steadily, "that my pal, Joe Marion, and I, if we
find them gone when we get there, will take your father's speedy yacht
and go for a little pleasure trip in the general direction they have
taken. Then if they chance to get into trouble, we can give them a lift.
Besides," there came a twinkle in his eye, which was wholly lost on the
girl, "they might need the yacht to carry home the gold."
"Oh, will you?" she exclaimed, gripping his arm until it hurt. "That
will be grand of you. For you know," she faltered, "I--I feel a little
bit responsible for what they have done and if anything should happen I
could never forgive myself. I--I'll tell you about it some time."
For a moment they stood there in silence, she steadying herself from the
rock of the train by clinging to his arm.
"I think," she said soberly, "if you go in father's yacht, that I shall
go along with you."
"And I think," said Curlie in a decided tone, "that you won't."
She said not another word but had he taken a look at her face just then
he would have found there the expression that he had seen there before,
the expression which she had inherited from her father, the self-made
millionaire.
That night in his berth, as the train rushed along on its eastward
journey, Curlie narrated to Joe Marion all the events which had led up
to the present moment, and as much of his conclusions as he had told to
Gladys Ardmore.
"So you see, Joe, old boy," he concluded, "if those young millionaires
are away before we arrive we're destined to take a little trip which may
have an adventure or two in it; that is, at least I will."
"Count me in," said Joe soberly. "I go anywhere you do."
"Good!" exclaimed Curlie, gripping his hand. "And in the end," he
concluded, "I think we shall have told the world in a rather effective
way that the air must be free for the important messages; that Uncle Sam
has the right of way in the air as well as on land or sea and that he
has ways of defending those rights."
At that they turned over, to lie there listening to the click-click of
wheels over rails until sleep claimed them.