EVIL PLOTTERS.
Nick recognized the admiral readily, as much by his quick movements
and bent form as from a memory of his snow-white beard and keen,
penetrating eyes as revealed in the street-light glow the previous
night.
He was attired in a threadbare suit, and resembled some veteran of war
service, an air of dignity being apparent even beneath his nervous
manner.
Nick was glad that the admiral had come to light at last, doubly glad
now that he had not questioned Vail as to his probable whereabouts.
In view of the developments of the hour Nick felt that he could
scarcely venture to trust James Vail with the money--the $5,000.
He would wait until the admiral had left the office, when he would
follow him, return the money, and hope for an explanation of what the
strange proceedings of the past might signify.
Vaguely Nick began to comprehend a plot about the money in which the
story of Captain Eccles was involved. He believed that once he could
see the admiral alone much that was now obscure would be made plain to
him.
Vail had grasped the admiral’s hand and motioned him to a seat.
“It is many years since we met,” said the admiral. “Mr. Vail, I should
like to see you alone.”
The admiral glanced at Loucks as he spoke.
Vail made the latter a quick signal, and he retired within a railed
inclosure and pretended to busy himself at a desk, although Nick
noticed that his crafty eyes watched the visitor intently.
“Mr. Loucks is my confidential associate in business,” explained Vail,
“and you can freely give me your confidence before him.”
“Very well, Mr. Vail.”
“What is it, admiral?”
“You say you remember me?”
“Perfectly.”
“You remember loaning me and a friend eight thousand dollars ten years
ago?”
“Yes, I recall it distinctly.”
“That friend was Captain Collins.”
“Of the merchant service.”
“And the ship----”
“The _Star of Hope_.”
“You have a good memory, I see,” said the admiral.
“I ought to have in that affair.”
“Why so?”
“My loan was secured by insurance on the _Star of Hope_.”
“Well?”
“And the companies for a time refused to pay it, claiming that there
was no evidence that the ship was ever lost.”
“Well, I guess it was, and my poor friend, Captain Collins, drowned.
But that is all passed, Mr. Vail, and my visit here is on more recent
and vital issues. I come to you as our business friend of the past to
place at your disposal a great fortune.”
The admiral’s tone grew slightly more earnest and excited as he spoke
these words.
“What!” ejaculated Vail, starting eagerly.
“A fortune, I say. After many years’ waiting it is mine.”
The effect of this statement was to bring into Vail’s face an
expression of all the latent avarice of his nature. Loucks had also
been deeply impressed by the words, for he leaned forward at his desk,
a hungry look in his sinister face.
“That fortune,” cried the admiral, with flashing eyes, “is there!”
He had drawn an object from his pocket and brought it down with a
resounding slam on the desk at which the broker sat.
Nick Collins had a new surprise at the sight of the parcel in Admiral
Semmes’ hand. It was the yellow package--the one he had found the night
before in front of the dismantled house, and had exchanged to the
admiral for the bundle of bank notes.
“Does that contain the money--the fortune?” asked Vail eagerly.
“No, Mr. Vail, but it is the key to the fortune.”
“The key?”
“Yes--the clue to a treasure estimated to be worth over a quarter of a
million of dollars.”
The broker looked somewhat disappointed, still he evinced an
unmistakable interest in the package.
“Do you remember what the _Star of Hope_ was fitted out for?” asked the
admiral.
“Yes. For a South American cruise.”
“After treasure.”
“I heard something of that. The ostensible voyage was for coffee from
Brazil.”
“That was to hide our secret and prevent others pursuing our line of
quest. Listen.”
To absorbed listeners, in graphic, eloquent words, Admiral Semmes
repeated the story of the sunken treasure already narrated to Nick
Collins by Captain Eccles at Parkdale.
As he proceeded, the zest of a man deeply in earnest, and in love
with fixed convictions, made him greatly excited. He told of the two
letters, or, rather, of the one cut in two at Valparaiso by Captain
Collins on his outward-bound voyage.
“That letter revealed the hiding place of the sunken treasure,” said
the admiral. “Half of the letter arrived in safety and was received by
Captain Eccles. That he gave to me. The other half was never mailed, or
miscarried, it seems, for although we waited for nearly a year it did
not arrive. Eccles, after the news of the wreck of the _Star of Hope_,
abandoned the secret and the treasure as irretrievably lost.”
“And you?” asked Vail.
“I never lost faith in a hope that some day the dream of my life would
be realized, and I would recover the lost clue. To that end I devoted
health, money, patience, time. I visited every ship from Pacific waters
that came to New York. I made friends with the crews. I fêted them: I
questioned them. It was of no avail. No one had seen a trace of the
wrecked _Star of Hope_.
“Then I began to advertise for the lost half of Captain Collins’
letter. I even advertised in the Spanish-American papers and tried to
trace the letter from Valparaiso. About six weeks ago I received a
strange letter from the South. A man signing himself Don Felisterra,
and claiming to be a Brazilian, wrote me that he could produce the
paper I wanted. He wanted a price for it--five thousand dollars. Would
I give it? I telegraphed him four decisive words in reply.”
“What were they?” queried the interested Vail.
“Simply these: ‘Come to New York.’”
“Did he do so?”
“Yes. Four days since I received a second letter from him. For some
reason Felisterra was very cautious and suspicious. He evidently
feared that he would not get the money--he seemed to fear deception
or trouble, or else he was a criminal who wished to evade being seen
publicly. At any rate, he told me to meet him near my former residence.”
“Your former residence?”
“Yes--I sold it for the five thousand dollars to buy the paper. I
was to meet him or a messenger he would send after dark on a certain
night--last night. He would have a yellow package in his hand
containing the document in question. I was to exchange the money for
it, ask no questions, and make no attempt to follow Felisterra or have
him followed.”
“A strange arrangement!” murmured Vail.
“Yes, but I agreed to it.”
“And went to the place indicated?”
“Promptly.”
“With the money?”
“Certainly.”
“Ready to give it possibly to a swindler who would palm off a worthless
piece of paper upon you for the money?”
“I risked that, and I would have risked double if I had had it and it
was necessary.”
“Was the man there?”
“No, but his messenger was--a boy.”
“You obtained the yellow package?”
“Yes, and exchanged the money for it and went home. Oh, the profound
happiness of the moment when I opened this precious yellow package and
perused its contents!”
“It contained what you expected?”
“The other half of the letter, written by Captain Collins in
Valparaiso, Chili, ten years ago--yes. It matched the half I had
unmistakably. It indicates the course at sea to the island, to the
treasure itself, so that any sailor could find it. Think of it, Mr.
Vail--a quarter of a million of dollars! It is mine, all mine, except
the share that goes to Eccles and to any family Collins may have left.”
There was no mistaking the fact that Vail was deeply impressed with
the admiral’s story. He believed it to be true, believed in the
treasure--and envied this man his possession of the key to its secret.
“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you the outcome of Felisterra’s schemes,”
said the admiral. “A strange fatality happened to him.”
“How was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you any theory?”
The admiral paused before answering, as if in thought. At length he
said:
“I had a theory.”
“What is it?”
“Well, I figured out that he robbed or killed some man in South America
and found the letter, which probably had been picked up somewhere.”
“Why do you think this?” asked Vail.
“I don’t say that I do think so now; but I did, and it was because
Felisterra was so cautious.”
“Why don’t you think so now?”
“Because I know better.”
“Well?”
“Early this morning,” the admiral went on, “a man came to the hotel
where I have been living recently--a policeman.”
“To see you?”
“Yes.”
“What about?”
“About Felisterra. It seems that the man must have had enemies who were
pursuing him. Probably he received the money from the messenger he sent
to meet me, and started on his way home.”
“I don’t quite follow you, admiral,” said Vail. “Has anything happened
to Felisterra?”
“I should say something had happened to him,” was the old mariner’s
reply.
“What was it?”
“He was found late last night only two blocks away from my old home, a
dagger in his breast.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“How did you hear of it?”
“The police found my name in a memorandum book on the body, and came to
me for information. I suppose they thought I might know something about
the murder even if I didn’t have a hand in it.”
“Could you give them any clue?”
“No. The assassin is unknown, and probably never will be found.”
“Has anything been learned as to this Felisterra’s past?” asked the
broker.
“Yes,” the admiral answered. “From the memorandum book I learned that
he had been an outlaw in the Andes, and had a terrible enemy in the
person of another outlaw, who had sworn to kill him. Probably this man
followed him from place to place, came up with him at last in this
city, and made good his threat.”
“Did you learn anything else?”
“Yes. The memorandum showed also that in a robbery of the
mail--committed probably by some band of South American desperadoes--my
letter had been found and preserved for its strangeness.”
“How came Felisterra to visit this country--this city?”
“It was the result of a chance reading, on his part, of a newspaper
advertisement. Poor fellow! They’ve taken his body away for burial. His
money is gone, but the secret of the treasure I have pierced at last.”
“And what do you intend to do with it?” asked Vail, his eyes glinting
with interest.
“Make use of it,” the admiral answered promptly.
“You will go in search of the treasure?”
“Certainly.”
“Alone?”
“Certainly not. I’m getting along in years, Mr. Vail, but I’m not a
fool.”
“I didn’t think you were, admiral. Well, what do you propose?”
“First of all, sir, let me tell you that I am a pauper. This paper cost
me the last dollar I had in the world, but I do not care for that. I
must have a ship, capital, coöperation in this great undertaking.”
“How do you expect to get these things?”
“Oh,” replied the admiral, with a wave of his hand, “any capitalist
would finance a surely paying enterprise like this.”
“I understand, admiral. You have come to me----”
“To place in your hands a fortune,” broke in the confident old sailor.
“You loaned me money before. Loan it to me now. Advance enough to man a
ship and provision it, and I will give you----”
“How much?” asked Vail eagerly.
“One-eighth of the treasure recovered.”
The broker was disappointed, but concealed his feelings. After
pretending to think a moment, he said:
“I might lend you a hand, admiral.”
“You might!” repeated the older man. “Will you--yes or no?”
“Yes--if your story is true.”
“My story true!” cried Semmes excitedly. “Look for yourself! I’m not
afraid to let you read the description, for it is too complicated to be
committed to memory. Besides, I know you to be an honorable man.”
He opened the package as he spoke, and produced two halves of a yellow,
timeworn letter, pasted on a single sheet of paper. At sight of it
Vail’s face took on a pallid hue, and a crafty look came into his eyes.
“Loucks,” he said, extending the hand that held the letter over the
railing of the desk compartment, “just cast your eye over that. See if
there is anything in it that would warrant us making an investigation
of the admiral’s scheme.”
So calm and businesslike were the broker’s manner and tone that Semmes
suspected no unfair play. Nevertheless, he kept his eyes on the
precious paper until Vail, for a moment, distracted his attention from
Loucks, who sat at a desk and spread the letter before him. When he
turned again to watch the confidential associate of Vail the latter
made a quick sign to Loucks, which the admiral did not see. That sign
meant plainly, “Copy it--quick!”
“I believe that the venture is a good one, admiral,” said Vail,
resuming his seat.
“It is sure, and bound to be highly profitable.”
“And one-eighth is all you will give to me if I capitalize the
expedition?”
“Absolutely all. The amount at issue is so large that----Hold on,
there!”
Admiral Semmes sprang excitedly to his feet.
“What’s the matter?” asked Vail.
“My paper! See what he’s doing!”
“Mr. Loucks is only examining it, as I requested him to do. You don’t
think we’re going to buy a pig in a poke?”
“He’s doing more than look at it!” exclaimed the old seaman. “He’s
copying it. That’s what he’s doing.”
“Well, if we go in with you, haven’t we a right----”
“No copies, I say,” broke in Semmes. “I won’t have it!”
He reached over the railing and tried to seize the paper, but Loucks
moved away.
“Here, you!” the admiral cried. “Give me my paper.”
Loucks only grinned.
Then Vail showed his true colors. He laid hold of Semmes and held him
back from the railing.
“You’ll get your paper, admiral,” he said, “when we have made a copy of
it.”
“But you’ve no right to copy it!”
“What! Not when we are going to join you in the enterprise?”
“You may not join me.”
“We want a copy, anyway.”
“What right----”
“Oh, I’ve got plenty of right on my side,” sneered Vail, “if that’s
what’s worrying you.”
“Right on your side!” fumed the admiral. “What is it, I should like to
know?”
“There is an unpaid claim of interest on the _Star of Hope_ mortgage,”
Vail answered exultantly. “You’ll not have the courage to deny that.”
This reply bewildered the admiral for a moment. He stared vaguely at
the crafty man before him, then, with a cry of rage, made another rush
for the railing.
“You scoundrel!” he roared. “I see that I’ve fallen into the hands of a
thief.”
Vail stepped before the admiral to keep him back. The men clinched.
There was a brief struggle. The old admiral was thrown to the floor. In
the fall his head struck an iron post of the railing. An ugly wound was
the result, and Nick, from his boxlike inclosure, saw the blood flow as
Semmes lay white and motionless on the floor.