A TERROR AT SEA.
Two hours went by before any one noted Nick’s absence from the deck of
the _Vista_.
Captain Eccles had not seen him about the ship, but he supposed that
he was with Frank and Will in the forecastle, and Frank and Will, not
seeing him, took it for granted that he was in the cabin with Eccles
planning the expedition for the treasure.
When, at last, Nick’s friends met, and all declared they could not
find him, a thorough search of the ship was begun, to no purpose, of
course. The only theory Captain Eccles could form was connected with
the missing yawl.
“He must have seen something drop overboard and started off in the yawl
for it,” he said to the skipper of the _Vista_.
“More likely he got sick of the sea and ran away in the yawl.”
“No, he would not do that. Perhaps he went into the yawl out of
curiosity, and it got afloat and he couldn’t hail the ship. Captain, if
we pass a port-bound ship, I’ll go back in search of him.”
“Nonsense!” growled Dare. “You could not find him any more than a
needle in a haystack now. He’s safe enough on calm water like this, and
will be picked up by some steamer.”
With this Eccles was forced to be content, but his fears were revived
when, an hour later, it was learned that the rope attached to the yawl
had been cut and not untied.
“There’s some mystery about it,” said Frank Alden to his brother Will
that night.
Jack Benson could have told them what a simple thing it had been to
dispose of Nick Collins.
Money had induced Jack to agree to the plots of his uncle, Loucks, and
the morning the _Vista_ sailed he was sent to its captain with a note
from Loucks stating that he was to give him a free passage to Cuba.
Jack had kept out of the way all the first day for fear of being seen
and recognized by Captain Eccles or the boys of the party, but at
nightfall he had ventured on deck.
When he saw his enemy, Nick Collins, in the yawl, he decided that it
was a fine chance to further the plans of his uncle, and at the same
time get even with Nick. The result was that Collins was sent adrift.
Jack’s success made him reckless, and the next morning he came boldly
on deck. He recalled the fact that Loucks had given him a certain order
to execute when the _Vista_ passed the Gulf of Mexico. Until then he
must be idle. Sooner or later he must be seen by Eccles or the boys, so
he decided that he might as well go on deck and enjoy himself.
His idea of enjoyment was to go about the ship making a nuisance of
himself. He climbed the rigging, tampered with the ropes and the
compass, and what else he might have done no one knows; but one of the
officers at last ordered him to leave things alone and go to his cabin.
“I’ll go there when I get ready,” Jack replied.
“What’s that, you young scamp?” exclaimed the officer.
“Oh, mind your own business.”
Hardly had the last word left Benson’s lips when the angry officer had
him in an iron grasp.
“Let go of me!” cried Jack. “If you don’t, I’ll----”
He never finished the sentence. He received a blow from the man that
made him see stars, and they were not the few that were shining in the
heavens.
Just at that moment Frank and Will Alden came on-deck. The blow Jack
had received did not knock him senseless, but it caused him to stagger
and grasp a belaying pin for support. Jack set up a bellowing that
could be heard for some distance. It brought Captain Dare hurrying to
that part of the ship.
“What’s all this about?” he demanded.
“An unruly passenger, sir,” replied the officer, “and I had to take him
in hand.”
“I see. What has he done, Mr. Gallup?”
“Been meddling with things, sir, and when I ordered him to go below, he
was insolent.”
“He hit me!” cried Jack.
“Is that so, Mr. Gallup?”
“Yes, sir. I struck him because he told me to mind my own business. I
thought it part of my business to make him understand that while he’s
on this ship he must behave himself.”
“You did your duty,” said Captain Dare. Then turning to Benson: “Go
below, boy, and don’t bother my men.”
“I won’t,” returned Jack.
“What’s that?”
“I won’t go below till I get ready.”
The captain regarded him a moment with flashing eyes. Then he said to
the officer:
“Mr. Gallup, have the young mutineer put in irons. Perhaps that will
bring him to his senses.”
“You’d better not lock me up,” said Jack. “If you do you’ll get the
worst of it.”
The captain smiled.
“Get the worst of it, eh?” he said. “How’s that?”
“My uncle, Mr. Loucks, owns some of this ship, and I’ll have him
discharge all of you.”
Captain Dare and the officer burst into laughter. Just then a sailor
appeared with a pair of handcuffs. At sight of them all the resistance
fled from Jack, and he let go his hold on the belaying pin and scooted
for the gangway. As fast as his legs could carry him he went to his
cabin.
Frank and Will Alden had witnessed the whole affair.
“What do you think of that, Will?” said Frank. “Think of it. Jack
Benson on this ship!”
“How did he ever get here?”
“Search me. Let’s tell Captain Eccles.”
They hunted up Eccles and told him about it. Thus it came about that
Eccles went to Captain Dare and learned from him that the owner of
the ship was Admiral Semmes’ worst enemy--James Vail. Then the sturdy
mariner began to scent a plot. He did not alarm Frank and Will by
imparting to them his suspicions, but after that, you may be sure, he
kept a close watch on the movements of Jack Benson.
This is how Eccles thought the matter out: “This boy has been put
aboard by Loucks and Vail. He has begun his evil mission by sending
Nick adrift. No doubt at all that it was he who cut the rope that held
the yawl. Poor Nick! I wonder if we’ll ever see him again. By jingo,
if I catch that Jack Benson playing any dirty tricks, it will go hard
with him.”
But Jack gave no sign after that night of doing anything wrong. He
seemed to have been thoroughly cowed by the threat to put him in irons
and the apparent indifference of the skipper to the fact that Loucks,
or, rather, his employer, James Vail, was owner of the ship. Jack was
sullen and reticent, and seldom came on deck. With all his watching,
Captain Eccles was thrown off his guard, for it did not look as if any
trouble was to be feared from Benson now.
Thus matters stood until one dark night, when a storm seemed brewing.
All the passengers had retired to rest. Frank and Will were in their
berths, but not sleeping. They were talking over the mysterious
disappearance of their chum, Nick, the loss of whom was a severe blow
to them. They agreed with Captain Eccles that Jack Benson had something
to do with Nick’s disappearance, although, of course, they could not
prove anything. In time the boys stopped talking, and fell asleep
along with the rest of the passengers. The only persons awake were the
officer on the bridge, the men in the engine and boiler rooms, a few
sailors on deck, and others who had to be on hand to work the ship.
Jack Benson had pretended to retire, like all the other passengers, but
he did not undress. He waited in his cabin until it was late enough for
him to carry out the scheme he had planned.
When, at about midnight, he had opened his cabin door a little, looked
up and down the passage that ran along by the staterooms, and had made
sure that no one was moving about in that part of the ship, he stole
out of his cabin and made his way toward the forward hold. Save for the
throbbing of the engine, and the swish of the seas against the vessel’s
side, all was silence.
In his stockinged feet Benson crossed the main saloon, gained the
companionway, ascended to the deck, glanced quickly about him, and made
sure that no one was looking.
Then he darted along the deck, and down a gangway that led to a narrow
passage, at the end of which was a bulkhead door. Producing a key he
had stolen that day from the captain’s cabin, he opened this door, and
entered the hold.
Closing the door after him, he lighted a short candle, which he drew
from a coat pocket. Its rays cast ghostly shadows about the place, but
revealed the indistinct outlines of the great piles of merchandise that
were part of the ship’s cargo.
In a moment Jack decided what to do. He caught up a dry pine box that
contained some light material--this he knew by the weight of it--and
the box he placed beside a barrel of oil not far away. He did the same
with one box of the same kind after another, until he had four or five
of them ranged near the barrel of oil.
His next move showed that Jack had come well prepared for his fiendish
work. From a pocket of his coat he took out a handful of excelsior,
and then, reaching into the unbuttoned bosom of his shirt, he drew
forth another handful of the same inflammable material. The production
of this last lot of the finely cut strings of wood accounted for the
wonderful chest development Jack had at the moment he slipped out of
his cabin. Now he was himself again as to chest measurement.
He set the excelsior carefully about the boxes, and then, to make
certain that his kindlings should not fail, he began hacking with his
jack-knife at the boxes, and kept this up until he had added to the
excelsior a lot of splinters and chips.
It was remarkable how coolly and with what apparent fearlessness he
performed this evil task. Not for a single instant did he hesitate.
He did not seem to realize his own peril in firing a ship that was so
many miles from land. This might have been because Loucks had assured
him that everybody lucky enough to be awake at the time the fire began
could escape in the lifeboats.
At last Jack decided that all was in readiness for the match. He
lighted one, and applied its flickering flame to the excelsior. Then he
ran to the bulkhead door, opened, relocked it, and stole back to the
gangway, up that to the deck, and then down the companionway, and along
the stateroom passage to his own quarters. He had not encountered a
soul.
He stood in the cabin, ears alert, waiting for the cry which he knew
would come. He had not more than three minutes to wait.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!”
This, the most terrible cry that can be heard on shipboard, began to
ring, and quickly was taken up on all sides.
A quiver of horror went through the _Vista_ from stem to stern.
The gangways began to fill with partly dressed passengers, trembling,
wringing their hands, shouting for help, weeping--laughing, some of
them, in a delirium of fright--rushing for safety, or standing still,
frozen with terror. Blinding smoke filled the ship, and presently the
glare of flames could be seen.
In a moment the upper deck became a scene of hopeless confusion.
Officers and crew were powerless to preserve even a semblance of order.
One glance that Captain Dare gave the fire convinced him the ship
was doomed. He knew it would be useless to fight those all-devouring
flames. An attempt to do so would only be a waste of time and a futile
risking of human life. Jack Benson had done his work successfully.
“Lower the boats!”
Above the tumult of frightened voices, this order of the captain,
delivered in clear, ringing tones, could be heard. It was taken up by
the officers, and the crew fell to work getting the boats ready to be
lowered from the davits. Sailors stood by each boat keeping back the
frenzied passengers until it should be time for them to get in. Other
sailors were sent through the ship to wake up any one who, by chance,
had not been roused by the cries and general tumult.
Captain Eccles, Frank, and Will managed to keep their heads, and by
example or word help others to do the same. They took a hand also in
helping the women and children to get into the boats. When the word was
given to board the lifeboats, Jack Benson tried to push by some women
and children and get into the first one. Frank Alden caught him by the
shoulders and pulled him back.
Jack ripped out an oath, and told Frank to mind his own business--a
favorite expression of Jack’s, it appears, and one that he accompanied
now with a threat against Frank. It was the first time any words had
passed between the boys since they had been on the _Vista_.
“All right,” returned Frank to the threat; “you can do anything you
like, but you don’t get into a boat until your turn comes. Now, stand
back!”
There was a look in Frank’s eye that Benson did not like. So he went
off to seek some other boat to which he might have a chance of pushing
his way. He shook his fist at Frank as he moved away.
In the rush for the boats one of the passengers, a woman, fell
overboard, and there was a delay in the efforts of a sailor to rescue
her which held one of the lifeboats hovering near the ship for a long
time. The seaman succeeded at last in reaching the boat with his
exhausted burden, and both were lifted aboard by willing hands. Such
scenes made the hour one of excitement, suspense, and terror. At last,
however, every soul on board had been rescued. Even Jack Benson, after
several ineffectual attempts to crowd past children, was allowed to get
into a lifeboat.
“But if you don’t stop playing the hog,” said the officer in charge of
it to him, “I’ll throw you overboard.”
The last boat to leave the ship contained Captain Dare, Eccles, Frank,
Will, and several of the crew.
Luckily the storm which seemed brewing did not descend with any fury.
The boats, with loads of human freight, reached an island for which
they were all headed, about twenty-four hours after the _Vista_ was
abandoned.
The cause of the fire was a mystery which bothered Captain Dare a
good deal. He talked about it with Eccles as they rowed on. When they
arrived at the island mentioned they found the other boats there, and
not a single life had been lost by the burning of the _Vista_.
From the island everybody was transferred to the mainland, and from
there to various points--according to the port to which they wished to
go in order to continue their journey by water.
A week later Captain Eccles, Frank, and Will found a ship bound for the
Isthmus of Panama by way of Colon and Aspinwall. On this they arranged
for passage.
What had become of Jack Benson they did not know. Having finished the
work for which he had been put aboard the _Vista_ by Loucks and Vail,
that young scamp had taken himself off with a group of passengers who
took ship for Havana, and from there he intended to take passage back
to New York. The conspirators had supplied him with plenty of money,
which he had been careful to tuck away in a safe place on his person
when he set fire to the ship.
Captain Eccles and his boy companions had saved little from the wreck
except the clothes they wore. But Eccles had a good part of the cash
that belonged to Admiral Semmes, and which was to be used in his
interest; so they did not fear for the success of their treasure hunt.
And, best of all, despite the hurry in which they had left the burning
ship, Eccles had taken good care to bring with him the chart that Nick
had recovered from the treacherous bankers.
As for poor Nick, there was no news of him at the port from which they
set sail for the Isthmus. They made inquiry at every place where there
was likely to be news of a ship having picked up a boy at sea, but all
to no purpose. Needless to say, the disappearance of Nick had cast a
gloom over the little party, but they decided to continue their quest
for the treasure, and hope for the best.
After a stormy passage in the Caribbean Sea, Eccles, Frank, and Will
arrived at Colon. From there they went to Panama, where the gigantic
work of digging the canal across the Isthmus was in full swing. Armies
of workmen, many of them Americans, made a scene of activity in that
southern clime which the boys from Parkdale regarded with open-eyed
wonder.
Captain Eccles explained to them the great work which the United States
Government had undertaken in opening a waterway between the Caribbean
Sea and the Pacific.
“Will it be wide and deep enough for big ships to go through?” asked
Frank.
“Yes, indeed,” the captain told him. “The very largest ships will be
able to pass through. Vessels that now have to make the long voyage
around the Horn will take a short cut when the canal is finished. It
will save weeks and weeks of time in the passage from New York to the
Pacific coast.”
From Colon they took a train across the Isthmus, and this for a part
of the way followed the course of the canal, so that the digging
operations were in full view from the car window. It was an experience
which the boys thought they would always remember. It helped them to
forget for a while their sadness over the loss of Nick Collins.
Arrived at the Pacific side of the Isthmus, they were fortunate in
finding a ship bound south, and they reached Buenaventura in safety.
Here Captain Eccles made inquiry for the ship _Regent_, commanded by
his friend Dartmoor. Again they were in good luck. They learned that
the _Regent_ was due, on a return voyage from Peru, at Valencia, two
hundred miles down the coast, in a week.
For Valencia the three took the first steamer that sailed.
“A little while, boys,” said the captain, elated over the prospect,
“and we shall be on our way toward the treasure island.”
It was good news to Frank and Will, as well, but they could not help
thinking how happy they would be if only Nick Collins were with them to
enjoy the adventures that were soon to be theirs.
They reached Valencia, and found much to interest them in that quaint
old place while they waited for the _Regent_ to arrive. In two days she
arrived. Eccles was waiting on the wharf when she came up. He was the
first one on shore to hail her commander, Captain Dartmoor, his old
friend. As soon as the gangplank was down he rushed aboard to clasp
hands with the skipper.
Did Captain Dartmoor give him a warm welcome?
He fairly danced with delight at sight of his old shipmate.
“By jingo, Eck!” he exclaimed, “you don’t look a day older.”
“And you,” returned his friend--“why, Jack, you’re the same young
fellow of fifteen years ago!”
For more than an hour the brotherly mariners were shut up in the
skipper’s cabin while Eccles told his story. Dartmoor listened to it
with wrapped attention and wonder.
“By jingo!” he exclaimed, “it takes me back to the days when we used to
read yarns of the sea.”
“But this is going to be no yarn, captain.”
“I sincerely hope not, Eck. I hope it will prove to be what you
think--the biggest kind of a reality.”
“Don’t you believe it?” asked Eccles.
“Wait a minute,” the other answered evasively. “Give me time to think
about it. Let me see that chart.”
Eccles produced the two halves of the letter written by Nick Collins’
father, and spread them before his friend. The latter studied the
document for some minutes in silence. Then suddenly he exclaimed:
“Why, first point to reach, according to this, is Mountain Island.”
“Yes. What of it?”
“What of it? Man, I know the place.”
“Hurrah!” exclaimed Eccles. “You’ve been there?”
“Yes. It is little more than a barren reef twelve hundred miles due
southwest.”
“Then the letter is right. That’s what it says.”
“That much is right, surely,” chimed in Dartmoor.
“From there we follow the course described in the letter. Now, what do
you think of the project?”
“I think very well of it,” drawled Dartmoor, which was a good deal for
him to say, as his friend well knew.
“Then you believe in it?” cried Eccles eagerly.
“Yes, old shipmate, I do.”
“Hurrah!” again burst out Captain Eccles. “Just how much confidence
have you in it?”
“A great deal.”
“Enough to come along and help me find it?”
“I have, Eccles,” replied the other earnestly.
“Shake on it.”
And the old-time friends and fellow mariners clasped hands.
“This is glorious!” said Eccles. “You’ll know where we can get a ship,
how much we ought to pay, and all about it. It’s a long time, Jack,
since I was in service, and I’ve sort of lost track of things.”
“What do you want of a ship?” asked Captain Dartmoor after a moment of
silence.
“Can we get along without one?” returned the other, smiling.
“You cannot, of course. But I guess one will be enough.”
“It sure will.”
“Well, isn’t my ship good enough?”
“Do you mean,” said the overjoyed Eccles--“do you mean that you’ll use
the _Regent_ for our expedition?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. Do you suppose I’d let you go in any other
ship, Eck, as long as I have one at my command?”
Again the old friends’ hands met in a cordial grasp.
“Now, friendship is one thing and business another,” said Captain
Eccles. “I have money. I will charter your ship outright or go in with
you on shares.”
“Never mind that part of it. We’ll fix things up satisfactorily to
both. I guess we won’t quarrel.”
“But I’d rather have it fixed. I want to do what is right by you and
everybody connected with you in this matter.”
“All right. We’ll settle about the money later on. Come on deck.”
It was plain that the project had awakened all the enthusiasm and love
of adventure in Captain Dartmoor’s nature, of which there was plenty,
although he was a cool and level-headed man.
“Mr. Griggs,” he called to his mate when they had reached the deck.
The mate touched his hat and drew near.
“What’s our cargo to be?”
“Wool.”
“Where for?”
“Buenaventura.”
“I want you to make arrangements to have some other ship carry it.”
The mate looked puzzled.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said. “Do you mean that we’re not to take
it aboard?”
“Exactly.”
“But we are under contract to deliver it at Buenaventura.”
“Never mind. The reason for making the change is an important one. You
will transfer the cargo and papers to the next ship that is bound for
Buenaventura. Be sure that there shall be no slip-up, for I want the
delivery to be made just as promptly as if the goods were carried in
the _Regent_. This must be done in justice to the persons concerned.”
“I’ll do the best I can, sir,” said the mate.
“See here, captain,” put in Eccles. “I don’t want you to take this risk
for me. Suppose----”
“Suppose nothing,” interrupted Dartmoor, his eyes sparkling. “There
lies treasure island, doesn’t it?”
He pointed southwest.
“Yes,” Eccles answered.
“That’s our destination, isn’t it?”
“Of course, Jack, but----”
“But me no buts, shipmate,” broke in the skipper of the _Regent_. “You
are my life-long friend, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve said, ‘Help me,’ haven’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, when a friend like you says that, Jack Dartmoor is there! That’s
all there is to it. Yonder lies our treasure island. We transfer our
cargo, we provision, and we sail just as quickly as we can.”
“When will that be?”
“To-night. This very hour,” was Captain Dartmoor’s resolute and hearty
answer.
And so it fell out. At nightfall the stately _Regent_, with Eccles,
Frank, and Will aboard, sailed into the hazy crimson of the western
sky, a trailer on the ill-fated course of the _Star of Hope_, gone down
in tropic waters ten years before with all the treasure it had on board.