the first one he leaped up, waving the documents over his head and
shouting “hurrah!” in a way that Cal said was “like the howling of a
demon accidentally involved with the accentuations of a buzz saw.”
After a moment the excited boy so far calmed his enthusiasm as to throw
the bundle of papers into Larry’s face, shouting:
“I’ve found the Quasi deeds! I’ve saved Quasi to its rightful owners!
Why don’t you all hurrah with me, you snails, you dormice or dormouses,
whichever is the proper plural of dormouse? There are the papers and it
was Tom Garnett who found them! For once prying curiosity has served a
good turn. Now, all together! Hip, hip, hip, hurrah!”
The others joined heartily in the cheering that seemed necessary for
the relief of Tom’s excitement, and half-spoken, half-ejaculated
congratulations occupied the next five minutes.
After that the whole party sat down to hear the results of the more
thorough examination of the papers, which Larry was delegated to make.
“Yes, these are the deeds,” he reported, “uninjured by time or damp or
anything else, thanks to our grandfather’s care in sealing that leaden
box. They were executed in May, 1861, and see, down in a corner of each
is written:
“‘Recorded in the clerk’s office of Beaufort District, liber 211, pp.
371, 372, 373. J. S., Clerk.’
“And here’s a memorandum in our grandfather’s handwriting and signed by
him. It is on a separate sheet, dated in February, 1865, and—”
“Read it!” suggested Cal.
“I will,” and he read as follows:
“‘The clerk’s office in which these deeds were recorded at the time
of their execution has been destroyed, together with all the books of
record. It is vitally necessary therefore that these original deeds
shall be preserved. In these troublous times there is no place of
deposit for them which can be deemed reasonably safe. I am sealing them
in this leaden box, therefore, and will bury them upon the abandoned
plantation of Quasi, to which they give title. I shall plant a catalpa
bean above them as a sure means of identifying the spot, there being no
other catalpa on the plantation. I shall send my daughters a detailed
statement of what I have done, with instructions as to the way of
finding the papers. I place this memorandum in the box with the deeds
themselves, so that if anyone finds it he may know to whom its contents
belong. The address of my daughters will be found endorsed upon the
deeds themselves.’”
XXXVII
TOM’S FINAL “FIND”
“TOM,” said Cal, taking the Virginia boy by the hand and warmly
greeting him, “you have crowned this expedition—”
“Oh, bother!” interrupted Tom. “You fellows are daffy. I’ve had the
good luck to find the deeds, but it was by sheer accident, and anybody
else might have—”
“But ‘anybody else’ didn’t, and that makes all the difference. Now
listen. I have the floor. I have restrained my natural impulse to do
all the talking lately until I’ve had to let out two holes in my belt.
I was going to hurl my best speech at your head, but you interrupted,
and now the graceful periods have slipped from memory’s grasp. I’ll
leave the task of adequate expression to my father. He’ll do it quite
as well as I can. But there’s one thing to which I must ask the
attention of the company here assembled.”
“What is it, Cal?” Dick asked.
“Why, simply that Tom has added another to the purposes with which this
expedition was undertaken. Our objects were sport and adventure. We
have had both, and now Tom has added a third—achievement.”
“That’s all very well,” answered Tom, “but we haven’t made the
achievement yet. That will be when we deliver the deeds to your father,
and not till then. And we’ll never, never do that unless you stop your
nonsense and let us get to work on the catamaran, or raft, or whatever
else you call it. Our present job is to get away from Quasi with the
golden fleece. I suppose we ought to sleep now, but—”
“But glue wouldn’t stick our eyelids together,” broke in Dick. “Work’s
the thing for us now. Let’s get at it. Oh, I say, Cal, what of the
tides? When will they set in strongly toward that little town up there?”
Cal reckoned the matter up and named the hours at which the young flood
tides would begin to run. Then Dick thought a little and asked:
“Is it all land-locked water from here to the town, or are there
openings to the sea?”
“All closely land-locked—all creeks,” Cal answered.
“Then if we work hard we can have the catamaran ready by to-morrow
noon—she won’t need to be much of a craft for such waters—and we can
make our start when the tide turns, about that time. Let’s see; the
distance is only ten or twelve miles, and the tide will run up for six
hours. That ought to take us there with no paddling or poling except
enough to keep the craft headed in the right direction.”
“We’ll do it,” declared Cal. “Now to work, all of us. Tell us what to
do, Dick.”
“Let one fellow make a lot of fresh torches,” the Boston boy answered.
“The rest of us can keep busy till daylight dragging bamboos, big cane
stalks and the cross braces down to the shore. As soon as it is light
enough in the morning we’ll fashion the two larger timbers, and get
them into the water. After that two or three hours’ work will finish
the job.”
“An excellent programme, so far as it goes,” muttered Cal, as if only
thinking aloud.
“Go ahead, Cal, what’s lacking?”
“Seems to me,” Cal responded, “that every member of this company is in
the habit of carrying a digestive apparatus somewhere about his person.
That’s all.”
“Right, Cal!” Larry broke in. “We must have breakfast and dinner,
and I think I remember hearing that experienced navigator, Richard
Wentworth, say, once upon a time, that one should never venture upon
salt water without carrying a supply of provisions along.”
“I humbly submit to the rebuke,” answered Dick, with a laugh. “It was
forgetfulness, but forgetfulness is never quite pardonable. Some one
must go for game immediately after breakfast. We have enough on hand
for that meal.”
“I delegate you to that task, Tom,” said Larry. “Your habit of finding
things may hasten the job.”
* * * * *
It was a little past noon when the company pushed away from Quasi on
the rude raft that served them for a ship, and were driven by the
strong flood tide through the maze of broad and narrow passages among
the marsh islands that lay between them and the town on the mainland.
There was some discussion before they left Quasi as to what they should
do with the rifle and other things in Dunbar’s log lockup.
Larry settled the matter, saying:
“We’ll leave his belongings just where he placed them. We are not
likely to find him now, and—”
“And if he finds himself,” Tom broke in, “he’ll come to Quasi after
them. Wonder where the poor fellow is, anyhow, and what’s the matter
with him.”
Nobody could offer a conjecture that had not been discussed before, and
so the subject was dropped in favor of more immediate concerns.
* * * * *
The tide ran strong, and Dick’s “palatial passenger craft,” as Tom
called the raft, proved to be cork-like in its ability to float almost
as fast as the tide itself flowed. About five o’clock the last of
the marsh islands was passed, and the little town, perched upon high
bluffs, appeared. As the raft neared it, Tom suddenly called out:
“I’ve found something else! There’s the _Hunkydory_ riding at anchor
in that little bay over yonder! Now, maybe the next find will be Mr.
Dunbar.”
While Larry was sending a telegram to his father, the others went to
the boat and with permission of the man in charge, examined it. No
accident had happened to it and nothing about it gave the least hint
that Dunbar had merely abandoned it. The sail was neatly lashed to the
boom; the mast and the rudder had been unshipped and bestowed in the
bilge. Every rope was coiled and every pulley block ran free.
More significant still was the fact that the lockers were all filled
with food stuffs.
“Obviously he intended to return to Quasi,” Cal argued, “and laid in
supplies for us as he had promised. Whatever happened to him must have
occurred after that and just before the time he had set for sailing.
Let’s go up into the town and see what we can learn about him.” Then
pausing, he turned to the man in charge of the boat and asked:
“Has she been lying at anchor and taking the chance of rain all this
time?”
“No,” the man answered. “She’s been in that there boat house, but
to-day the squire tole me to anchor her out in the sun for an hour or
two, an’ that’s what I’m a doin’.”
On their way they met Larry, who had telegraphed his father both at the
North and at Charleston, uncertain whether or not the earthquake had
hurried his home-coming. In his dispatches Larry had said:
“Quasi deeds found by Tom Garnett, now in my possession and in perfect
order. Dory sails for Charleston immediately.”
Two hours later there came two telegrams from Major Rutledge in
Charleston, one of them addressed to Larry and the other to Tom
Garnett. The one to Larry sent congratulations and asked him to hurry
home as fast as he could. What was in Tom’s none of the boys ever
knew. Tom’s eyes were full of tears as he read it, though his face
was a gladly smiling one as he replaced the paper in its envelope and
carefully bestowed it in his pocket.
While waiting for these dispatches the boys made diligent inquiries
concerning Dunbar. He had arrived at the town about three o’clock on
the day of his leaving Quasi. He had intelligently addressed and posted
his manuscript and drawings. After that he had bought camping supplies
of every kind that the town could furnish, and had loaded them very
carefully into the dory. An hour later he had been found sitting under
a big tree and seemingly in distress of some kind. He was unable to
tell who he was, in answer to inquiries. His mind seemed an absolute
blank. Papers found on his person gave a sufficient clue to his
identity and the addresses of his nearest friends. Telegrams were sent
to them, and as soon as possible they came and took the poor fellow
away with them, a magistrate meanwhile setting a deputy constable to
care for the boat and cargo till its owners should appear.
The young doctor whom Dunbar’s friends brought with them explained to
the old doctor of the town that for many years past Dunbar had been
the victim of a rather rare mental malady, causing occasional complete
lapses of memory.
“This present attack,” he added, “is lasting longer than usual. He has
hitherto been allowed to roam at will, to live in the woods and pursue
his investigations. Now, however, I shall strongly advise his friends
to keep him under some small restraint for the sake of his own safety.”
“That ends the Dunbar incident,” said Larry when the old doctor
finished his relation of the facts. “Now we must be off for Charleston.
What do you say, boys? There’s a moon to-night and we might as well get
a little start before it sets.”
“My own judgment,” ventured Dick, “is that as we worked all of last
night, we’d better stay here till morning and get some sleep. But ‘I’m
in the hands of my friends’ as the politicians say.”
Dick’s suggestion was approved, and the sun was just rising the next
morning when the _Hunkydory_ set sail. When the boys stepped ashore at
the Rutledge boathouse on the Ashley River, Major Rutledge was there to
greet them.
“We feared you boys might be in serious difficulty down at Quasi,” he
said, warmly shaking hands all round for the second time, “and I was
about setting out to rescue you, when Larry’s telegram came.”
“We rescued ourselves, instead,” Cal replied; “and to us that is more
satisfactory.”
“It is very much better,” answered the father, catching Cal’s meaning
and heartily sympathizing with the proud sense of personal achievement
that lay behind.
“Come on home now, and over a proper dinner tell your mother and me all
about what happened at Quasi.”
THE END
George Cary Eggleston’s Juveniles
The Bale Marked Circle X
A Blockade Running Adventure
Illustrated by C. Chase Emerson. 12mo, red cloth, illustrated cover,
$1.50.-
Another of Mr. Eggleston’s stirring books for youth. In it are told
the adventures of three boy soldiers in the Confederate Service who
are sent in a sloop on a secret voyage from Charleston to the Bahamas,
conveying a strange bale of cotton which holds important documents. The
boys pass through startling adventures: they run the blockade, suffer
shipwreck, and finally reach their destination after the pluckiest kind
of effort.
Camp Venture
A Story of the Virginia Mountains
Illustrated by W. A. McCullough. 12mo, dark red cloth, illustrated
cover, $1.50.
The _Louisville Courier Journal_ says: “George Cary Eggleston has
written a decidedly good tale of pluck and adventure in ‘Camp Venture.’
It will be of interest to young and old who enjoy an exciting story,
but there is also a great deal of instruction and information in the
book.”
The Last of the Flatboats
A Story of the Mississippi
Illustrated by Charlotte Harding. 12mo, green cloth, illustrated cover,
$1.50.
The _Brooklyn Eagle_ says: “Mr. George Cary Eggleston, the veteran
editor and author, has scored a double success in his new book,
‘The Last of the Flatboats,’ which has just been published. Written
primarily as a story for young readers, it contains many things that
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and well worth reading.”
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston.
DAVE PORTER SERIES
By EDWARD STRATEMEYER
VOLUME FIVE
_DAVE PORTER AND HIS CLASSMATES_
_Or For the Honor of Oak Hall_
Illustrated by Charles Nuttall 12mo Cloth Price, $1.25
IN this volume Dave is back at Oak Hall and he brings about the
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“The best type of American schoolboy.”—_Boston Globe._
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“Will hold the attention of the readers from beginning to
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VOLUME SIX
_DAVE PORTER AT STAR RANCH_
_Or The Cowboy’s Secret_
Illustrated by Lyle T. Hammond 12mo Cloth Price, $1.25
FROM his home, Dave, in company with his sister and some chums,
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“The author of ‘Dave Porter’ is a prime favorite with the
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“Edward Stratemeyer’s ‘Dave Porter’ has become exceedingly
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“Dave and his friends are nice, manly chaps.”—_Times-Democrat, New
Orleans._
THE BOYS OF BROOKFIELD ACADEMY
By WARREN L. ELDRED
Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott Large 12mo Cloth $1.50
[Illustration]
THIS story tells of a boys’ school, with a glorious past, but an
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THE LOOKOUT ISLAND CAMPERS
By WARREN L. ELDRED
Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott Large 12mo Cloth $1.50
[Illustration]
THIS is a story of active boys of fifteen or so. They are very
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U. S. SERVICE SERIES
By FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER
Illustrations from photographs taken in work for U. S. Government
Large 12mo Cloth $1.50 per volume
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY
[Illustration]
APPEALING to the boy’s love of excitement, this series gives actual
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“This is a book one can heartily recommend for boys, and it has life
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THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS
[Illustration]
THE life of a typical boy is followed in all its adventurous
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FIVE CHUMS SERIES
By NORMAN BRAINERD
12mo Cloth Illustrated $1.25 each
Winning His Shoulder Straps
[Illustration]
A ROUSING story of life in a military school by one who thoroughly
knows all its features. Bob Anderson, the hero, is a good friend to
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Winning the Eagle Prize
[Illustration]
THE hero not only works his way at Chatham Military School after his
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Athletics play a prominent part in the story and the whole is
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Larry Burke, Freshman
By FRANK I. ODELL
Illustrated by H. C. Edwards $1.25
[Illustration]
THIS book bristles with activity: baseball, football, ice-hockey,
basketball, track and field events, and a regatta appearing, and each
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“A boys’ book that is filled with healthy adventure and action from
cover to cover.”—_Cincinnati Times-Star._
Tim and Roy in Camp
By FRANK PENDLETON
Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy Large 12mo $1.50
[Illustration]
IN this book is crowded a wealth of sport, adventure, Indian stories,
hunting and camping, facts about animals encountered, and all that
will please a boy’s heart. A skilful hunter and trapper takes his son,
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“The story is fascinating and contains not one thrill too
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“This is a great book for live, active boys, vigorous, wholesome,
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_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
the publishers_
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.