A NAVAL DISASTER.
"A cork?" cried Ida. "Let me see it."
Brian handed over the small object which he had seen lying in a
corner of the empty box. It was an ordinary cork, such as would fit
a good-sized medicine bottle.
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"That's what we must have heard the other day rolling about when we
turned the chest up on its end," said Guy.
"What's the good of it? Throw it away!" cried Elsie, who could not get
the bank-notes out of her mind.
"I wonder how it can have got there!" said Guy, as the family prepared
to move back into the warmer room. "What could be the good of locking up
and sealing a cork in an iron-bound box for twenty years?"
"I don't suppose it was put there on purpose," answered his father. "It
dropped in by mistake."
"Oh, come on! Let's get to our lessons," said Ida. "I'm sick of that
stupid box."
At that moment Brian, who had stayed behind to put the chest back in its
place, appeared in the room.
"Uncle," he said, "this cork has got a little round label on the top,
with the name of a chemist on it--'Greenworthy.'"
Mr. Ormond took the cork, looked at it, held it nearer the lamp, and
looked at it again.
"This is curious," he muttered.
"What's curious, father?" asked Elsie.
"Why, this cork has Greenworthy's name on it, and Greenworthy hasn't
been in business for more than ten years at the outside, so how can one
of his corks come to be inside a box that has been shut for twenty?"
"Then the box has been opened," said Brian.
Mr. Ormond seemed to doubt this. "One of you children must have dropped
the cork in just now," he said. "Are you sure you didn't, Brian?"
"Quite sure, uncle," answered the boy.
"And I'm sure neither of us did," added each of his cousins.
"Perhaps there's a knot-hole in the box through which the cork might
have been poked some time," suggested Elsie.
"I don't think there is," said Guy, moving towards the door. "But I'll
soon see."
He returned a few moments later, but only to report that there was not
the smallest crack or hole in the wood through which a pin could be
dropped.
"It's certainly very funny," said Mr. Ormond. "The cork must have fallen
out of some one's pocket after we'd opened the box. I may have dropped
it in myself."
"But we heard it rolling about in the box some time ago," remarked
Elsie.
"Well, it's a mystery," answered her father, laughing--"one which I
can't explain."
The children prepared to retire to the breakfast-room and begin their
day's lessons. Brian, however, had still one more question to ask.
"Uncle," he said, "supposing a thief had opened that box, wouldn't it be
possible for him to imitate the seals?"
"Of course it would be possible to get a duplicate die made," was the
answer. "But I'll tell you why I feel sure that in this case the locks
have not been tampered with. Uncle Roger's seal came into my possession
directly after his death, and has been in my safe ever since. In one
place it was slightly damaged. There was a peculiar cut or scratch
on the metal face, and I noticed that this cut was visible in the
impression on the seals we broke just now. That could not have been
imitated, and I'm quite convinced in my own mind that the box has not
been opened."
* * * * *
By Saturday the keen edge of the disappointment had somewhat worn off,
though Elsie had hardly recovered her accustomed spirits, and still
grieved for the pony which she had quite made up her mind was to have
been a black one, with white socks, and a white star on its forehead.
Perhaps the boys felt the failure of their hopes and expectations less
than the girl, from the fact that they had something on hand just then
which occupied a considerable amount of their attention, and a good
portion of their spare time.
Brian's great hobby was ship-building, and the fact that there was a
fish-pond in the garden at the Pines enabled him to give each fresh
model a practical test as soon as it was ready to be launched. He had
constructed vessels of all descriptions--ships that sailed, and ships
that didn't; gunboats which mounted a brass cannon, and peaceful
merchant traders which carried cargoes of earth and stones across the
water from one shore to another.
Now he had upon the stocks a vessel of an altogether novel design, and
this latest addition to his miniature navy had cost him a great many
hours of work and the exercise of no small amount of patience before it
could be pronounced ready for use. It was said to be a "torpedo-boat
destroyer," and was constructed out of the hull of an old tin boat. Her
engines had once formed the motive power of a clockwork locomotive, but
they had now been adapted to marine requirements, and made to turn a
small screw.
With the determination to be up to date, Brian had resolved to have no
woodwork about this war vessel. With considerable labour he had cut
decks, funnels, and other fittings out of tin; to fix these in place it
had been necessary to acquire the art of using a soldering-iron, and
this he had done, though at the price of at least one rather bad burn
and a blistered finger.
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Evening after evening, when lessons were done, he had devoted his spare
time to work on his model, fixing the engines, soldering down the decks,
and putting in ballast, so as to balance the boat and keep her on an
even keel. At length the work was finished; the _Fury_, as she was
called, was painted all over an orthodox black, and when given a trial
trip in the bath, ran from end to end in a manner which was quite
satisfactory. Brian's next wish was to prove that the little vessel
was equal to a trip across the fish-pond.
Saturday afternoon was fixed upon for the experiment, and soon after
dinner Guy, Elsie, and their cousin assembled at the water-side, Ida
having gone out with a friend. The pond was circular in shape, with a
brick bottom, and was perhaps about thirty feet in diameter. It was
shallow near the shore, and in one or two places were large pots in
which water-lilies were planted, these forming dangerous reefs on which
an unskilful captain of a model craft might well run his vessel aground.
Brian wound up the engines of the _Fury_, keeping his finger on the
screw to prevent it starting off with a whiz; then, adjusting the
rudder, he lowered the "destroyer" into the water.
"Doesn't she look fine?" cried Guy, as the little vessel started off in
good style. "Just like a real little steamer. Wouldn't it be fun if we
could have two fleets, and make them fight? Hullo! She's changing her
course."
The last remark was occasioned by the small craft bearing round in a
curve, and making for the shore in another direction.
"It's the rudder," said Brian. "It doesn't work right. Give me a bit of
string, and I'll see if I can't fix it properly this time."
After some little delay, the _Fury_ was ready for another voyage. In
moving round the pond Elsie had found a broken lead soldier lying on the
brick-work, a relic of some bygone naval engagement.
"Here!" she said; "let me put this man on board."
Brian seldom refused any of Elsie's requests.
"All right," he said; "put him on the bridge."
The lead soldier was propped up against the little wire railing.
"There!" cried Elsie; "that's William Cole going out to Australia."
Once more the little vessel was placed in the water, and her propeller
allowed to revolve. Away she went in grand style, straight across the
pond, and leaving quite a miniature wake in her stern.
"Oh, bother!" muttered Brian, as again the straight course became a
curve. "There she goes! That rudder _will_ work round."
"Hullo!" exclaimed Guy. "Look out! She'll be wrecked in a minute!"
The "destroyer" was now heading for one of the submerged pots; a moment
later she struck, and remained with her screw still working, but with
her bow entangled in a bunch of weed.
"I shall have to court-martial the captain for running his ship ashore,"
said Brian.
"Poor William!" cried Elsie; "fancy being shipwrecked on his first
voyage!"
For some minutes the children stood gazing idly at the disabled craft;
her engines had stopped working, and it was evident that she would have
to be towed into port.
"We must get a long stick--a fishing-rod, or something of that kind,"
said Guy. "Hullo!" he added. "Look, Brian! I believe she's sinking."
It was only too true; the "destroyer" was slowly settling down, stern
foremost.
"Oh, do get it!" cried Elsie; but the wreck was well out of reach--at
least ten feet from the shore. For a minute the spectators stood
hesitating, undecided what to do; then the vessel gave a lurch, her
bows slipped from the edge of the flower-pot, and down she went.
"O Brian, I am so sorry!" exclaimed Elsie. "You've taken so much trouble
to make it, and poor William's drowned!"
Brian laughed. "Oh, we can get her out again," he said. "I think she
must have been leaking where the propeller shaft goes through her
stern."
If it had been summer one of the boys would probably have rolled up his
trousers and waded into the water to recover the boat. As it was, they
had to improvise some form of drag.
"We must get that big rake," said Brian. "We can lash it to one of those
clothes-props, and then we shall be able to reach her and haul her out."
The rake was found, and bound with stout cord to the clothes-prop, and
the process of "salving" the wrecked steamer commenced.
"I must mind and not damage her with these iron spikes," said Brian,
carefully thrusting out the head of the rake and lowering it into the
water.
"Hullo! I've got something," he remarked an instant later, as he hauled
in the drag. "But it isn't the boat. What can it be?"
The prongs of the rake grated on the bricks, and there, amid dead
leaves, rotten twigs, and muddy sediment, lay something which at first
glance might have been mistaken for a dead fish. Guy stooped down and
picked it up out of the water. For a moment he gazed at it in utter
astonishment.
"Why, it's the missing carving-knife!" he exclaimed.
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