IN WHICH THE SUPERCARGO IS CORNERED
From one street corner Dave and Roger hurried to another, looking in
every direction for some sign of Captain Marshall. This hunt they kept
up for the best part of half an hour, but without success.
"He is certainly nowhere in this vicinity," said the senator's son. "I
wonder where he can be keeping himself."
They walked on more slowly, and at the entrance to a lane came to
another halt. Then, chancing to look into the lane, Dave uttered a short
cry:
"There he is!"
Coming along the lane was Captain Marshall. His step was an uncertain
one, and he pitched from side to side. As the two boys ran forward, the
master of the _Stormy Petrel_ gave a lurch and landed on some old boxes
with a crash.
"Oh, Dave, can this be possible!" murmured Roger. "I did not think the
captain would do it."
"Let us help him to the ship," answered Dave. He was as much shocked as
his companion, and he could not help but think of what the supercargo
had said.
"Oh, is it you, boys?" mumbled the captain, as he espied them. "I want
to--to get back to the ship."
"We'll help you," said Dave.
"I've had an awful night--my mind is in a perfect whirl," went on the
master of the _Stormy Petrel_.
"We'll soon have you safe on the bark," put in Roger.
The two assisted the captain to his feet. His eyes had a peculiar stare
in them. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his pocket.
"Funny!" he muttered. "Very funny! I've got my watch! And I've got my
money, too!"
"Did you think they were gone?" queried Dave.
"Well, I shouldn't be--be surprised. I thought they did it to rob me.
What time is it? Oh, but I am weak in the legs, boys!"
"It is about eight o'clock."
"In the morning?"
"Yes."
"Then I must get back to the _Stormy Petrel_ by all means. I--how did
you come to find me?"
"We were out looking for you," answered Roger. "We were alarmed, and so
was Phil, because you didn't come back last night."
"I--I meant to come back. Oh, how my head spins! I wish I had a drink of
water! That coffee they dosed me with was vile."
"Coffee they dosed you with?" queried Dave. "Were you drugged?"
"I must have been, lad. I met some men, and they wanted me to drink with
them. I refused. Then they offered me some coffee and native cakes, and,
to be sociable, I took the stuff. Directly afterward I began to grow
sleepy, and then I didn't know a thing until I woke up at the end of
that lane awhile ago."
"Did you know the men?" asked Roger.
"I did not, but they pretended to know me. It's queer they didn't rob
me. I wonder why they drugged me?"
"I don't know," answered Dave, "unless----"
"Unless what?"
"I shouldn't like to say, Captain Marshall. But I'll tell you one thing,
you are wanted on board of the _Stormy Petrel_ at once."
"Who wants me?"
"Phil Lawrence. We have learned something about Mr. Van Blott which we
think you ought to know. But you must get your head cleared up, first of
all."
They walked the captain back to the bark, and, by accident more than
design, managed to get the skipper on board without the supercargo
seeing the party. Then they called Phil into the cabin, and in the
meantime got the captain some fresh water and some other things they
fancied might do him good. They were glad to note that his dizziness
was fast leaving him.
"This looks suspicious to me," said Captain Marshall, after he had heard
what the boys had to relate. "But I cannot accuse Van Blott of having me
drugged, as I have no proof of it. I do not know who those men were,
and, more than likely, they will keep themselves out of sight."
"That is true," returned Phil. "But you can help me regarding this stuff
to be taken away by Baumann & Feltmuller, can't you?"
"Certainly, Phil. I want to know all about that stuff before it leaves
this ship. Have you the records of the goods?"
"No, sir; Mr. Van Blott has locked the books in the safe."
"Then, if I were you, as your father's representative, I should demand
to see the records. I will back you up."
"If you will back me up, I'll go to him at once. He is already getting
the goods out of the hold."
"I'll put a stop to that," answered the captain.
He was still feeble in the legs, but managed to climb to the deck, and
walked to where the supercargo and the first mate were directing the
unloading of a portion of the cargo.
"Hello, so you are back!" exclaimed the supercargo, and his face paled a
little.
"I am," returned the captain, coldly. "Mr. Shepley, did you give orders
to unload?" he went on, turning to the mate.
"I--I--er--did," stammered the mate. "You said yesterday we were to
start first thing this morning."
"I did--but I expected to be here when we began. Mr. Van Blott, Philip
Lawrence wishes to see you in your office."
"I haven't time to bother with him now," growled the supercargo. "Go
ahead with those cases!" he shouted to some stevedores who were nearby,
and pulling out his handkerchief he gave it a flourish toward the dock.
"Drop those cases!" roared Captain Marshall, his face growing red. "Drop
them, I say!" And the natives who were carrying the cases stopped short.
"Captain Marshall----" began Jasper Van Blott. "I--what do you mean by
this--er--by this----"
"I told you that Philip Lawrence wanted to see you in your office. You
had better see him before we move any more of this cargo."
"Yes, but----"
"I won't argue the matter, Mr. Van Blott. I was drugged last night. Do
you understand? Drugged! But my mind is clear now, and I want everything
on this bark to run smoothly. You had better go to your office, and I'll
go with you."
The supercargo glared at the captain, and the latter glared in return.
Then Van Blott shrugged his shoulders.
"As you please," he said. "But it is a strange proceeding." And he
walked to that part of the ship where was located his little office. As
he passed the first mate, he gave the man a wink and turned his eyes
toward the cases on the deck. Paul Shepley nodded slightly.
In the office they found Phil awaiting them. Roger followed the pair,
but Dave had seen the wink that was passed, and remained on deck, and a
moment later seated himself on one of the very cases the stevedores had
been in the act of removing from the ship.
"Ain't you going with them?" asked the first mate, coming up with a dark
frown on his face.
"No, I think I'll stay here until they come back," answered Dave,
lightly.
"Then please get off of that box."
"I am not hurting the box, Mr. Shepley."
"Get off, I say!"
The boy from the country did so.
"I believe Captain Marshall wanted nothing moved until he came back,"
said Dave, gazing boldly into the mate's angry face. "Perhaps I had
better call him, if you are going to work again."
"Who said I was going to move anything?" growled Paul Shepley, his
manner showing that that was just what he had had in mind to do. "Don't
you get too fresh around me, or there will be trouble!"
"Well, if there is trouble, I'll do my best to stand up against it."
"Aw! you make me tired!" grumbled the first mate, and strode away in
deep disgust, leaving Dave master of the field.
In the meantime a stormy meeting was being held in the supercargo's
office. At first Van Blott flatly refused to allow Phil to look at his
books, but at last brought forth several, which the shipowner's son knew
were of little importance.
"I want the books that relate to the goods to be landed here," said
Phil. "I want to know all about each piece before it is put ashore."
"Humph! You are getting very particular, young man!" observed the
supercargo.
"I do not deny it."
"Did your father send you on this trip to spy on me?"
"You may put it that way, if you wish, Mr. Van Blott. I am here simply
to learn this business and to see that everything is O. K."
"If everything is all right, what have you to fear from an inspection
like this?" came suggestively from Captain Marshall.
"I am not going to work here and be watched like a criminal!" stormed
Jasper Van Blott. "If old man Lawrence can't trust me, it is time we
parted company!"
"I agree with you," returned the captain.
"Do you?" came with a sneer. "Very well. I'll close up my accounts and
quit."
"You'll not do it just yet," put in Phil. He was pale, but determined.
"I won't?"
"No. Before you quit you must make an accounting to me of goods and
money, and satisfy me, and also Captain Marshall, that everything is O.
K. in every particular."
"Bah! Boy, who gave you authority to talk to me in this fashion?"
"My father."
"I don't believe it. Why, you are a mere boy--you don't know what you
are saying. I'll close up this business to suit myself and leave my keys
with Captain Marshall, and that will end it."
"Mr. Van Blott, you must remember that Philip Lawrence is the
shipowner's son," said the captain, sternly.
"I don't care if he is. He has no legal authority, and I don't propose
to let him drive me."
"Just wait a minute, until I come back," said Phil, starting for the
door.
"Where are you going?" asked Roger.
"To my stateroom. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"What is he going to do?" questioned the supercargo, uneasily.
"I don't know," answered Captain Marshall, shortly. "But, if I were you,
Mr. Van Blott, I should listen to him. In a certain sense, he represents
his father on this vessel."
"He doesn't represent him with me!" muttered the supercargo. His anger
had made him lose a good portion of his common sense.
There was a minute of silence, during which Jasper Van Blott strode up
and down the narrow office. Then a step was heard outside, and Phil
reappeared, carrying a large envelope in his hand.
"My father said I was not to use this unless it was necessary," he said,
drawing a paper from the envelope.
At the appearance of a legal-looking document the supercargo started
back.
"What's that?" he demanded, hoarsely.
"This is a document authorizing Captain Marshall to take charge of your
affairs, Mr. Van Blott. He is to investigate everything, under my
supervision, and is to hold you strictly accountable for everything you
have done since starting on this voyage."