A PLAN THAT FAILED
“Hockley has found a new friend,” observed Mark to Sam that afternoon.
“A man a number of years older than himself, too.”
“So I’ve noticed, Mark. I must say I don’t quite fancy the appearance
of the stranger.”
“Nor I. He looks rakish and dissipated. I wonder where he is bound?”
“I heard him speaking about getting off at Curaçao. If that’s the case
we won’t have him with us after to-morrow.”
“Do we stop at the island to-morrow?”
“Yes, we’ll be there before noon, so the professor says.”
Just then Darry appeared and joined them. He had been in the cabin, and
Hockley had introduced Dan Markel to him.
“Mr. Markel is a great talker, but I don’t take stock in much he says,”
said Darry. “Hockley evidently thinks him just all right. He was going
to stop at Curaçao but has changed his mind and is going right through
to Caracas. He says he knows Caracas like a book.”
“Perhaps he intends to take Hockley around,” suggested Sam.
“It was my impression we were all to go around with the professor,”
came from Mark.
“That was the plan,” said Darry. “He’d have a good deal of bother if he
allowed everyone to run off where he pleased. I don’t believe Hockley
liked it much because I didn’t seem to care for his new friend.”
“Let him think as he pleases--we haven’t got to put ourselves out for
his benefit,” said Mark; and there the subject was dropped for the time
being.
In the meantime Frank had met Hockley and Dan Markel coming out of
the stateroom the latter occupied. Markel had asked the lank youth
to come below and take a drink with him, and Hockley had accepted,
and a first drink had been followed by two more, which put Hockley in
rather an “elevated” state of mind, even though he was used to drinking
moderately when at home.
“My very best friend, Frank,” he called out. “Mr. Dan Markel. Mr.
Markel, this is one of our party, Frank Newton, of New York city.”
“Happy to know you,” responded Market, giving Frank’s hand a warm
shake. “It’s a real pleasure to make friends on such a lonely trip as
this.”
“I haven’t found it particularly lonely,” said Frank, stiffly. He was
not favorably impressed by the appearance of the man from Baltimore.
“That’s because you have so many friends with you, my boy. With me it
was different. I didn’t know a soul until Mr. Hockley and myself struck
up an acquaintanceship.”
“But now it’s all right, eh?” put in Hockley, gripping Markel’s
shoulder in a brotherly way.
“To be sure it’s all right,” was the quick answer. “We’ll stick
together and have a good time. Perhaps young Newton will join us?”
“Thank you, but I shall stick to my chums,” answered Frank, coolly, and
walked off, leaving Markel staring after him.
“The little beggar!” muttered Hockley, when Frank was out of hearing.
“I’d like to wring his neck for him.”
“Why, what’s the trouble?”
“Oh, nothing in particular, but somehow he and the rest of the crowd
seem to be down on me, and they are making it as unpleasant as they can
at every opportunity.”
“You don’t say! It’s a wonder Professor Strong permits it.”
“They take good care to be decent when he’s around, and of course I’m
no tale bearer, to go to him. But I would like to fix young Newton.”
“Is he worse than the others?”
“Sometimes I think he is. Anyway, if I got square on him it might teach
the others a lesson.”
Frank joined his chums and told what had taken place. At the next
meal Markel was introduced to the others, but all ignored him, and
even Professor Strong showed that he did not like the idea of Hockley
picking up such an acquaintance.
The fact that he had been snubbed made Dan Markel angry, and feeling
that Hockley was now his friend and would back him up, he let out a
stream of abuse, in the privacy of his stateroom, with the lank youth
taking it in and nodding vigorously.
“You are right, that little cub is the worst,” said Markel, referring
to Frank. “He needs taming down. I wish I had him under my care for a
week or two, I’d show him how to behave.”
“I’ve been thinking of an idea,” retorted Hockley, slowly. “It would be
a grand scheme if we could put it through.”
“What is it?”
“We are going to land at Curaçao to-morrow. I wish I could arrange it
so one of the other fellows would be left behind to paddle his own
canoe. It would take some of the importance out of him.”
“Well, that might be arranged,” returned Markel, rubbing his chin
reflectively. “Perhaps we might fix it so that all of them were left
there stranded.”
“How long will the steamer stay there?”
“Six hours, so I heard the captain tell one of the other passengers.”
“The trouble is we’ll all have to go ashore with the professor, if they
let us go ashore at all.”
“Well, we’ll try to think up some scheme,” said the man from Baltimore;
and then the subject was changed.
Curaçao is the largest and most important of the Dutch West Indian
Islands, with a population of about 25,000 souls. The island is largely
of a phosphate nature, and the government derives a handsome income
from the sale of this product. To the east of Curaçao is Bonaire,
another Dutch possession, and to the west Aruba, all of which are
likely to become a part of United States territory in the near future.
The islands are of considerable importance, and trade not alone in
phosphate of lime but also in salt, beans, dyewoods and fruits.
Early in the morning the dim outlines of Curaçao could be seen and
about ten o’clock the steamer glided into the bay of St. Anna, upon
which Willemstad, the capital city is located. The harbor is a
commodious one, and ships displaying the flags of many nations were on
every hand.
“What a pretty town!” exclaimed Mark, as he surveyed the distant
shore with a glass. “I declare it looks like some of these old Dutch
paintings.”
“This island is famous in history,” said Professor Strong, who stood
by. “It was discovered by the Spaniards in 1527. About a hundred years
after that the Dutch took it and held it for nearly two hundred years.
Then the English came over and wrested it from the Dutch, but had to
give it back eight years later, in 1815. The pirates and buccaneers
used to find these islands excellent stopping places, and many a
political refugee has ended his days on them.”
“Is the capital very large?”
“About fifteen thousand inhabitants.”
“How about going ashore and taking a look around?” questioned Darry.
“I’d like first rate to stretch my legs on land once more.”
“Oh, yes, do let us go ashore?” pleaded Frank. “The steamer is going to
stay five or six hours, and that will give us loads of time for looking
around.”
“I will see what can be done when we anchor,” said the professor. “They
may be very strict here--I do not know.”
Soon the big steamer was close up to the wharf where she was to
discharge part of her cargo and passengers. One of the first parties to
leave was Herr Dombrich, who shook hands cordially with the professor.
“It has been von great bleasure to sail mit you,” said the Dutch
merchant. “I vos hobe ve meet again, not so?”
“I’m thinking of taking the boys ashore,” said the professor. “They
would like to see the city.”
“Yes, yes, surely you must do dot,” was the reply. “I vould go mit you,
but I must on pisiness go to de udder side of de island. Goot py!” and
in a moment Herr Dombrich was ashore and lost in a crowd. Then Mark
caught a glimpse of him as he was driven away in an old-fashioned Dutch
carriage which had been waiting for him.
An interview was had with some custom house and other officials, and
the party obtained permission to go ashore and roam around the place
until the steamer should set sail for La Guayra. In the meantime Dan
Markel had already disappeared up one of the long docks.
The man from Baltimore was in a quandary. He had borrowed fifty dollars
from Hockley, and he was strongly inclined to hide until the steamer
should sail and then use the money to suit himself. But he realized
that his capital, which now represented a total of eighty dollars,
would not last forever, and a brief look around Willemstad convinced
him that it was not at all the city he had anticipated.
“I’d starve to death here, after the money was gone,” he reasoned.
“I’ll wager these Dutchmen are regular misers. The best thing I can do
is to go to Caracas with that crowd and then squeeze that young fool
out of another fifty, or maybe a couple of hundred.”
He had come ashore after another talk with Hockley, in which he had
promised to lay some plan whereby one or another of the boys might be
left behind. He had been told by the captain of the steamer that the
vessel would sail at five o’clock sharp. If he could only manage to
keep somebody ashore until ten or fifteen minutes after that hour the
deed would be done.
The day was hot and, as was usual with him, Markel was dry, and he
entered the first wine shop he discovered. Here he imbibed freely, with
the consequence that when he arose to go his mind was far from being as
free as it had been.
“I guess I’ll go and see a little more of the town on my own hook
before I try to make any arrangements,” he muttered to himself, and
strolled on until another drinking place presented itself. Here he met
another American, and the pair threw dice for drinks for over an hour.
Then the man from Baltimore dozed off in a chair, and did not awaken
until a number of hours later.