OUTWARD BOUND.
What of Nick Collins?
At the first step in what fate had made the main purpose of his
life--the successful carrying out of his father’s project, and the
securing of Admiral Semmes’ rights--the lad had met with disaster.
The _Vista_ glided from sight, while only the winds heard his cries for
help. As darkness closed about him, he realized that all hope of rescue
for many hours to come must be abandoned.
But he told himself that now was the time to be brave. He must keep up
till daylight should make it possible for passing ships to see him, and
possibly come to his rescue.
There was no oar in the boat, and no other means either of propelling
or guiding the frail craft. Fortunately the sea was calm; danger of the
yawl swamping was not very great.
The stars came out, and a light breeze rose, and altogether the night
was a mild and beautiful one. As the hours wore on Nick had all he
could do to keep awake, but he did so by a plucky effort, being
encouraged to this now and then by sight of the lights of a passing
ship. Impulsively he cried out for help, but the vessels were all too
far away to hear his voice.
He was rejoiced at last by the first faint glow of dawn, and in time
the welcome warmth of the sun’s rays.
He busied himself scanning the horizon at every point in the hope of
sighting a ship. But it must have been nearly noon before he discerned
a distant sail. It seemed to be bearing directly down upon him, and
his heart leaped with joy. He watched it breathlessly, with all the
suspense of one whose life was at stake. He waved his hat, and his
coat. He shouted himself hoarse, and then----
The ship passed on!
A mere speck on the vast expanse of water, he was invisible to those on
the ship who, in all likelihood, would have been glad to come to his
aid.
Twice a similar hope was kindled, only to be dashed. But ships came
near, he told himself, and sooner or later he must be seen and rescued.
With this hope he buoyed himself, and tried to forget his gnawing
hunger and terrible thirst.
Finally, toward nightfall, when despair had begun to claim him, a
fourth ship hove into view. How the poor boy waved his coat, and
shouted with what was left to him of his voice!
This time his frantic signals were seen!
A yawl was launched, and soon he heard the welcome sound of the rowers.
An hour later Nick Collins was seated in the cabin of the brig
_Pawtucket_, bound back for the port of New York. Before him was food
and drink in plenty, and how he put it away! Nick had been hungry many
a time before, but never in his life, it seemed to him now, had he
really known hunger.
The captain of the _Pawtucket_ was considerate enough not to bother
Nick for his story until he had stowed away all the food he could hold.
In due time the brig sailed into port, and Nick went ashore, thankful
for his escape, but with a heart none too happy at the thought that he
was alone and friendless in the noisy, cruel vastness of New York.
But he had made up his mind what should be his first step. He would
go to the hospital where Admiral Semmes was a patient, and see how it
fared with his father’s old friend. He remembered that Captain Eccles
had said that the doctors there had predicted that the old sailor would
be himself again in two weeks.
Fortunately Nick had a little money, so he was in no immediate anxiety
about shelter for the night and the means of living until he could
carry out a certain plan he had in mind.
He found his way to the hospital, a great building on the east side of
the city.
“What can we do for you?” asked a pleasant-faced man at a desk in the
office.
“I want to know something about Admiral Semmes,” said Nick.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I don’t know that we can tell you anything about him, except
that he is a very fine old gentleman.”
“Is he better?”
“Better? I should say he was; so much so that he wouldn’t listen to
staying here any longer, although the doctors thought he’d better.”
“Has he gone?” gasped Nick.
“Oh, yes--left two days ago.”
“Where has he gone?”
“I couldn’t tell you that. But wait a minute. Perhaps the people in the
ward where he was may know.”
He called up the ward by telephone, but, after making inquiry, told
Nick that no one there knew where the admiral had gone. He had left no
word at the hospital as to where he intended to go, except to say that
he would sail for Panama as soon as he could get a ship.
Nick thanked the man and left the hospital.
Admiral Semmes going to Panama! This was, indeed, interesting news for
the boy. It was exactly the thing that Nick also intended to do, by
hook or by crook. Nick knew that Captain Eccles, and Frank, and Will
would go on to Panama in pursuance of their purpose to hunt for the
sunken treasure.
“The thing for me to do, first of all,” Nick told himself, “is to find
Admiral Semmes.”
The clue the hospital clerk had given him seemed a valuable one. If the
old sailor was looking for a ship to the Isthmus, the thing to do was
to visit the offices of the steamship lines to Panama. And this Nick
set about doing straightway. It had been his plan to look up a ship
bound for the Isthmus, and seek an opportunity to work his passage to
that point, in the belief that he might find Captain Eccles and the
boys there, or, if they had been there and departed, find some trace of
them, and follow on.
Nick visited one office after another that bulletined ships for Central
and South American ports. But it was not until he had begun to despair
of getting any clue to Admiral Semmes that he did come upon some
encouraging news. This was in the office of a steamship line for New
Orleans, the Isthmus, and Central America.
“Has Admiral Semmes been here?” Nick asked somewhat innocently, as if
everybody must know the old mariner.
“Admiral Semmes?” repeated the man at the desk, smiling, but regarding
the boy with twinkling, keen eyes. “I don’t know anybody by that name,
but I shouldn’t be at all surprised if the person you seek is the
elderly gentleman who was here not ten minutes ago.”
Nick was all attention, you may be sure.
“What sort of a looking man is your friend?” the clerk inquired. “Tall
and thin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Gray hair and beard?”
“Yes, sir. And he had on, the last time I saw him, a suit of gray
clothes.”
“So had this man. I guess you’re on the right track, my lad.”
“Where did he go?” asked Nick.
“Well, it just happens,” the other answered, “that I’m able to tell
you--at least, I’m able to tell you where he said he was going from
here. He was looking for a ship that would sail soon for the Isthmus,
and as none of ours will sail for ten days, I directed him to the
Mexican-Costa Rica Line.”
“Where is that?”
“Just around the corner.”
“Oh, thank you, sir; thank you!”
And Nick was off like a shot. His heart beat wildly as he came in sight
of the sign of the steamship office indicated, and he sprang up the
steps two at a time. And there, standing at a desk, talking to the
booking clerk, was a gray-haired man. A glance told Nick it was the man
he sought.
“Admiral Semmes!” he cried, in his delight.
The old mariner started and stared at the boy. Then, in a kindly tone,
he said:
“Who are you, lad?”
“I am Nick Collins, sir. I am your friend. I--I--Captain
Eccles--Panama--Loucks--Vail--the treasure!”
Nick was so excited that it all came out in a jumbled lot of words, but
words, needless to say, that conveyed a clear enough meaning to the
admiral.
He called Nick aside, and said to him:
“I see you know me.”
“Yes, sir, and I know Captain Eccles; and I know, too, that you are
looking for a ship to Panama.”
Semmes started anew.
“The dickens!” he exclaimed. “How did you know that?”
“They told me at the steamship office around the corner--the one you
just left; and I heard it also at the hospital.”
“Well, well,” said the admiral, looking Nick over in amazement. “You’re
a pretty bright boy. But what of it, if I _am_ going to Panama?”
“I am going, too,” Nick answered simply.
“You?”
“Yes, sir; and we shall overtake Captain Eccles if we can only get a
ship that sails at once.”
“We?” gasped Semmes.
“Yes, sir. I know all his plans.”
“All whose plans?” asked the other.
“Captain Eccles’.”
“What in the name of goodness are you driving at?”
“Didn’t you get the letter that Captain Eccles left for you at the
hospital?”
Then a smile came over the admiral’s face. Whatever suspicion of Nick
that he had entertained was banished by the boy’s question about the
letter. It proved that he must be in the confidence of Captain Eccles.
He threw his arm around Nick, and exclaimed:
“Heaven bless you, lad! Tell me all about it.”
Nick related the events with which the reader is familiar so far as
they concerned Eccles, Vail, Loucks, and the occurrence in the broker’s
office that so greatly concerned the admiral himself.
The admiral listened like one in a dream.
“You are indeed a friend to me,” he said, grasping Nick’s hand. “My
boy, you are a brave fellow, and worthy the father I loved as my best
friend.”
Then he related his own experience. Two days before he had amazed the
people at the hospital by suddenly coming to his reason. They gave him
the letter left by the captain. Then, realizing that his secret was
safe, that Vail had been baffled, he had set out to raise money to
enable him to follow the captain. A friend had loaned him $1,000.
“I said I realized that Vail was baffled,” the admiral went on. “That
was my belief, Nick, when I first read the letter. But since I have
been moving around, I am not so sure of that.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Well, I have learned something. It is that Vail has left suddenly on a
mysterious cruise.”
“In what direction, admiral?”
“As near as my informant could say, he is bound for the South Pacific
Ocean.”
“The treasure island is in that region,” said Nick.
“Of course it is; and for the treasure island, you may be sure, the
precious scoundrel has sailed. He’s on the track of the treasure.”
“But he won’t succeed, sir.”
“Not if Eccles beats him to it.”
“When did Vail set out?”
“Yesterday, I am told.”
“Then Captain Eccles will get there first!” cried Nick joyously. “See
what a start he has.”
“But we must be with Eccles when he gets there, Nick.”
“That’s what I have hoped for, admiral. But even if we miss him, we can
feel sure that he will come out all right.”
“You have no more confidence in him than I have; yet I’m going to join
him, if such a thing is a human possibility.”
“I wish we could.”
“But I have a new plan, Nick,” the admiral said.
“What is that, sir?”
“I have given up the idea of sailing to Panama. I have decided that it
would be less risky to take another course.”
“What course?”
“Overland to California, or to Texas, and thence to the coast. Going
that way we shall be almost certain to overtake the captain. Perhaps
we shall pick him up at Buenaventura, perhaps at Valencia. We have the
clue that must bring us to him sooner or later?”
“Captain Dartmoor, of the _Regent_!” exclaimed Nick.
“Right you are, my boy. What do you think of my plan?”
“Splendid, admiral! Much better than to follow him to the Isthmus and
run a chance of missing him there, and trailing on after him all the
way, and perhaps missing him at last.”
“That’s just how I figure it out. All right, then, Nick, we start for
the Golden Gate to-night.”
And the midnight train bore them out of New York. In five days they
reached the Pacific coast.
At San Francisco the admiral was lucky enough to find a ship that
sailed the very day of their arrival, so that three hours after they
set foot in that city they were watching its buildings fade away from
the deck of a steamer bound for Buenaventura.
Despite this auspicious beginning of their journey by sea, trouble
began to brew not many hours after they had got beyond sight of land.
The ship was caught in a severe storm and driven far out of her course.
For several days they were at the mercy of the gale. At last the storm
subsided, but the vessel was left in a condition so unmanageable that
the outlook for finishing the voyage on her was not very hopeful.
Indeed, it seemed so bad to the practiced eyes of Admiral Semmes that
he decided to go ashore at an island about which the ship had been
drifting for several hours. This island lay off the coast of Mexico,
and the admiral concluded that it would be better to land and take a
chance of getting passage to the mainland on some vessel that might
call there.
The captain agreed to their landing, and sent a sailor to row them
ashore. And the venture turned out just as the admiral had anticipated.
They did get passage, two days later, on a ship that took them to the
mainland, and the very next morning they boarded another ship bound for
Buenaventura. At this place it did not take them long to get track of
Captain Eccles, and Frank, and Will Alden.
“We’ve had a lot of delay, Nick,” said the admiral, “but we’ll catch
them, after all.”
“I hope so,” was Nick’s earnest response.
“It’s a sure thing. They are only a few days ahead of us.”
“Where have they gone?”
“To Valencia.”
“And Captain Dartmoor--have you heard anything of him?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Is he at Valencia?”
“No, but he soon will be, I am told.”
“When can we sail for Valencia?”
“In two days.”
The two days they had to wait were anxious ones for the old mariner and
his boy companion, and even after they had set sail this anxiety did
not wear off. The voyage down the South American coast seemed a very
long one. Nick, at the admiral’s request, wrote out from memory the
letter relating to the sunken treasure.
One beautiful morning they arrived at Valencia. The admiral bade Nick
remain on the steamer, and hastened to the office of the principal
shipping firm in the place. He returned in two hours, and Nick could
see from his face that he was the bearer of bad news.
“They are not here,” he guessed.
“No,” said the admiral sadly. “They have gone.”
“Sailed?”
“Yes.”
“On the _Regent_?”
“Yes. They met Captain Dartmoor, and went away at once.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“What shall we do?”
“Do, lad?” exclaimed the admiral. “What else but follow them?”
The firm tone in which the admiral spoke made Nick’s hope glow again.
“Come ashore,” said his companion. “We have one chance yet, and it is a
good one.”
“What is that, sir?”
“To overtake them.”
“Oh, sir, can we do it?”
“I think we can. At any rate, we can make a good try for it.”
“And we will, sir,” said Nick, catching the admiral’s enthusiasm.
With the boy accompanying him, Semmes went back to the shipping
office. The proprietor, a Spaniard, greeted them courteously.
“Ah, the admiral has returned!” he said.
“I have. Look here.”
As he spoke, Semmes took from his pocket a big roll of bills.
“Do you see that?” he asked.
“Yes, señor.”
“Would you like to have it?”
“I don’t think I should mind having it; but what does the admiral mean?”
“It is yours.”
“Mine?”
“Yours. But you’ll have to do something for it.”
“Ah, it is an American joke!” exclaimed the Spaniard, with a grin.
“Well, what is the admiral’s pleasure?”
“Do you own that small brig in the harbor?” asked Semmes. He pointed
to a pennant-decked ship at anchor, the foresails of which were just
visible from the office windows.
“Yes, señor.”
“Is she a fast sailer?”
“None faster on the coast.”
“Is she idle?”
“Yes; for a while.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
“Good! Give me a good captain and crew, with orders to pursue the
_Regent_ for two days, and the money is yours.”
“Agreed.”
“You know which course the _Regent_ took?”
“Northwest.”
“Overtake her, and when I have seen the captain I will double the
money,” said Semmes. “Come, get busy, and give us an imitation of an
American hustle.”
And it was a very good imitation indeed that the Spaniard gave of
Yankee “git up and git.” And his enthusiasm was imparted to the crew
when they were told of the brig’s mission.