BACK TO BRIGHTON
Several days had elapsed since the capture of the mysterious pirate
ship and her motley crew. The _Jules Verne_ had remained on the job at
Martha's Vineyard while her divers carefully combed the interior of the
old sunken British liner _Dominion_ to find whether any of the gold
bullion still remained in her hold. Relentless search, however, had
disclosed no more of the precious booty--all of it had been ferreted
out by the arch-conspirator, Carl Weddigen, diver extraordinary,
adventurer, spy and piratical chief. But all of it in turn had been
reclaimed from the interior of the _Monterey_, the fast auxiliary that
Weddigen had commanded.
The fight on the _Monterey_ had been short and sweet. Taken
unexpectedly by the surprise attack of Captain Fowler and his men from
the U. S. revenue cutter _Marblehead_, the men of the _Monterey_,
deprived of the leadership of Weddigen, who was a captive on the
_Jules Verne_, had given up at the first show of strength on the
part of the government forces. Two huge motor launches, armed with
two-pounders and machine guns, had come swooping down upon the
_Monterey_. Although the crew of the _Monterey_ were well armed with
modern rifles and ammunition, they had hastily thrown down their arms
at the first withering fire from the launches of the _Marblehead_. This
fire had swept the decks of the pirate craft, killing two of her crew
and wounding others.
Immediately the _Monterey_ had been searched. Just as Jay Thacker,
diver aboard the _Jules Verne_, had related to Captain Austin and to
Captain Fowler, of the _Marblehead_, the gold bars--a dozen and more
crates of them--had been found aboard the pirate craft. Thousands of
dollars' worth of precious metal that would have been spirited off by
Weddigen and his crew unless the resourceful salvagers from Bridgeford
had intervened.
"Lucky thing you called us in time," Captain Fowler declared.
"Yes, and a lucky thing you were near," said Captain Austin. Which was
true, indeed, considering that the _Jules Verne_ and her crew could
hardly have hoped to prevent the escape of the pirates.
And then came the unfolding of the story of Carl Weddigen. Yes, it
was Carl himself; the same ingenious plotter who had first entered
the service of the Bridgeford Salvage Company with the idea of
gaining information as to where treasure ships were submerged; the
same intriguer who had hoped to profit through his own thefts while
ostensibly working for Superintendent Brown and Captain Austin; the
same despicable traitor who had been thwarted in the act of stealing
valued U. S. Government plans taken from the lost U-boat at Cape May.
Carefully and noting every particular, Captain Fowler, who was in fact
a policeman of the high seas, had heard from Captain Austin, and from
his star divers, Jay Thacker and Dick Monaghan, the whole story of Carl
Weddigen. The Brighton boys started with their first encounter with
Carl in the plant of the Bridgeford Company. They told of the first
experience on the _Dominion_ when Carl had been discovered in the act
of secreting diamonds in his diving suit, and how he was compelled
to disgorge through the craftiness of Larry Seymour. The affair off
Cape May was related, and this was the most damaging evidence, for it
proved the fellow an enemy of the United States Government.
"It surely will go hard with this chap after we turn him over to the
Department of Justice at Washington," Captain Fowler had ventured in
an opinion on the future status of the prisoner. For Carl was now a
prisoner aboard the _Marblehead_, closely confined under constant guard
in such a way that he could not possibly escape.
At first Weddigen had been sullen and close-mouthed. Repeated efforts
to get him to tell his story had failed; how he had fitted out his
pirate craft, where he had got the speedy little vessel, and how he had
shipped his crew; and, finally, how he had cleaned out the _Dominion_.
But now that he had come to realize that he was literally "up against
it" and that he was to be delivered over to the United States
Government to face a court trial and possible death for espionage and
high crimes against the government, to say nothing of his plots against
the lives of the men of the _Jules Verne_, the German prisoner had
decided to tell his own story in the hope that it might in some way
mitigate the whole case against him.
And this was the story he had told: Following his escape from the
Navy Yard at Boston after the Cape May affair he had shipped aboard a
coastwise trader bound that same day for Rio Janeiro. Going down the
coast he had ingratiated himself in the favor of members of the crew
by rescuing one of their number who had gone overboard in a terrific
midsummer storm. The crew, most of them Latin-Americans, had acclaimed
Weddigen their hero, and he at once assumed leadership among them. One
night he had confided to some of them the story of the _Dominion_ and
the gold bullion that still remained to be taken from her hold. In awe
and in envy they had listened to the story. Their own greed aroused,
they had proved willing converts to a plan to fit out an expedition and
go after the treasure.
On the day that the Brazilian merchantman had touched at Vera Cruz for
fresh supplies the little band under Weddigen deserted their ship and
took refuge in the Mexican city. From there they had worked their way
into the Tampico oil field region and one night stole the handsome new
twin-screw auxiliary _Monterey_, the property of a wealthy American
oil magnate. Joined by other confederates whom they had recruited
among Mexican refugees and bandits, the little party of adventurers had
worked their way out of the Tampico River into the Gulf of Mexico, and
thence up the Atlantic coast to the little cove where the _Dominion_
had run aground, and where Weddigen had seen enough while employed
by the Bridgeford Salvage Company to satisfy him that the desperate
effort in quest of the hidden treasure would be well worth the effort,
provided he was successful. From a point near the scene of operations
the crafty skipper of the _Monterey_ had sent several of his crew
ashore in a powerful launch to bargain in a New England seafaring town
for a diver's modern outfit.
Uninterrupted in their quiet retreat, the German and his Latin-American
crew had worked steadily in the reclamation of the gold bullion in the
hulk of the _Dominion_. Weddigen had found among his crew one who had
had experience as a diver in the West Indies, and they had worked in
relays. Just when they had completed their enormous haul, on the very
evening that the _Jules Verne_ had arrived, the pirates had completed
rifling the treasure ship. They had expected to sail the following
morning early for a South American port, there to make away with their
loot and dispose of their stolen ship. Weddigen had seen the _Jules
Verne_ from his vantage point within the cove long before Captain
Austin and his men knew of the presence of another craft at the old
anchorage. But he had decided to wait until after midnight and make
a run for it in the darkness. He had refused to answer the challenge
of Captain Austin, although he recognized the voice of that official,
hoping against hope he might get away unrecognized.
Finally, when pressed for an explanation as to why he had foolishly
gone aboard the _Jules Verne_ in the early morning hours and thus
risked his chances of getting away at all by putting himself in the way
of capture, Weddigen brazenly admitted he carried a powerful bomb with
which he hoped to sink the salvage ship and her crew before they could
sound an alarm. But in this he had been thwarted just as he was ready
to set the bomb and leave the _Jules Verne_. Loudly the pirate chief
had cursed the war dog Fismes and the two Brighton youths who, he said,
had been his nemeses from the very first day he had met them.
"Luckily for the United States Government and all parties concerned
with the ownership of this gold bullion, there are such brave youths
as Mr. Thacker and Mr. Monaghan," the revenue cutter captain told him.
Thus had been accomplished the undoing of Carl Weddigen. Now he was
headed for prison and a trial where he would have to answer for all his
crimes. The gold bullion from the _Dominion_ had been transferred from
the _Monterey_ to the _Jules Verne_. Taking the _Monterey_ in tow, the
_Marblehead_ left on the afternoon of the second day for Boston, while
the _Jules Verne_ put back to Bridgeford.
On the deck of the latter, as the _Marblehead_ drew away from the
cove in Martha's Vineyard, stood two stalwart youths who had played a
stirring part in the drama that had been staged. By their side sat a
lean hound with silken ears well set up and a silver-plated collar that
reflected the afternoon sun with brilliant shafts of light.
"Well, how do you like Treasure Cove, old pal?" asked Dick of his chum.
Treasure Cove was the name they had dubbed the inlet and bar where the
_Dominion_ had gone ashore during war days.
"Fine, indeed," laughed Jay. "Even though I nearly lost my life here
earlier in the summer."
"And even though we both have been having a nice little party with lots
of gun play these last few days," facetiously added Dick.
"One thing about it--Weddigen saved us all the work of digging up this
gold out of the _Dominion_," said Dick, with a whimsical smile.
"And came near blowing us all to kingdom come--would have done it sure
as guns but for Fismes here, who saved the day." Jay took the nose of
the big pet in his hands and rubbed the dog's forehead while the animal
grunted in appreciation.
They discussed Weddigen again and agreed he was just about the toughest
customer they had ever encountered. It was a satisfaction to them to
know that he had been apprehended, and that they had played a signal
part in bringing him to bay.
After a time Jay said:
"Well, it's been a pretty nice summer after all, hasn't it?"
Dick shook his head in emphatic approval. He wouldn't have missed it
for all the world, he added.
"And likely to prove a very profitable summer." This came from another
voice near at hand.
The Brighton boys turned to greet their captain.
"Likely to net you chaps a handsome profit, indeed, after all this
Treasure Cove fight heaped up on top of your various other exploits.
I'll wager you it's a young fortune you draw down at Bridgeford before
you go back to school."
"Perhaps more than we deserve," offered Jay.
"More than you deserve?" Captain Austin's voice rose to a high pitch.
"You chaps surely merit every single dollar that will be paid to you.
And it will be a good roll, my boys. Just think of it. First of all,
you have the thousand dollars each that were voted you by President
Walter, of the Salvage Company. Now you get a bonus on all the treasure
that we have reclaimed in addition to the wage scale agreed upon in
your contract. On top of this is still another item."
Both boys looked up.
"Don't forget that the United States Government offered a prize for the
capture of Carl Weddigen."
"But we didn't capture Weddigen--it was Fismes," protested Jay in happy
vein.
"All right then, have it your own way; Fismes gets the prize money
from Uncle Sam," laughed Captain Austin.
Arm in arm, the trio retreated from the deck of the _Jules Verne_ in
quest of one good square meal and a full night's sleep after nearly
a week of the merriest kind of adventure--actors in a great game of
treasure hunting. Out on deck a brown-haired police dog stretched
himself luxuriously and nestled his jaw into the embrace of two paws
crossed scissor-like.
* * * * *
In September, on a morning that dawned in full autumnal splendor,
two young men stood on the station platform at Bridgeford awaiting a
train bound for New York. With them were many friends, young and old,
including officials and employes from the big shipbuilding yard. They
had come to wish a farewell to these two youths bound for Winchester
and the opening of the new school year at Brighton Academy.
In the pocket of each youth reposed a bank book showing healthy
deposits to their credit. More than six thousand dollars each in the
name of Jay Thacker and Richard Monaghan--this from the Bridgeford
Salvage Company for the splendid work the young divers had done
throughout the summer! Enough to carry each young man through
preparatory school and on into college!
"But those friendships are not counted in terms of dollars and cents,
are they, chum?" said Dick Monaghan, with just a trace of a lump in his
throat as he indicated the group of friends on the station platform.
The train was moving out. Larry Seymour--good old Larry--had staged the
farewell.
It might have been a cinder in Jay's eye; at any rate, he was blinking
hard as the train gathered speed.
"You said a whole heaping mouthful that time," replied Jay, trying to
laugh off the flood of emotion that welled up in him.
Up in the baggage coach ahead, a skinny brown hound, accustomed to
making the best of every situation, winked at the baggage agent and
curled himself up for a snooze and a dream of the new life to come at
Brighton Academy.
THE END