“Whee! then there’s a nigger in the woodpile, I should say!” burst out
the impulsive Ballyhoo. “That smart old Badger has been too tricky for
our skipper. Why, if those fellows have been on the island all the
while, of course it’s dollars to doughnuts they’ve watched everything
we’ve done, and know that we’re working on that old hulk of a wreck!”
“No doubt about it,” said Oscar promptly, shutting his jaws together in
the way his chums knew meant business.
“What ought we to do about it, Oscar?” continued Ballyhoo.
“First of all we must get across to our boat in as big a hurry as we
can,” came the answer. “Captain Shooks ought to know what’s in the
wind, so he can act.”
“What d’ye suppose he can do about it?” continued the Jones boy.
They had already turned, and were making off hastily; and their last
glimpse of the retreating boat showed them the two men handling the
oars just as carefully as before.
“We’ll have to wait and see,” snapped Oscar. “But don’t talk any more
than you can help, Ballyhoo; we’ll need all our wind for running.”
They had one advantage, since in returning they followed the tracks
they had made in coming. Thus they could avoid certain obstructions
that had delayed them more or less on the former occasion.
Arriving at the other end of the island they found Jack sitting there,
still busily engaged with his camera. He had evidently taken what
pictures he wanted, and was amusing himself while waiting for the
return of his chums.
Upon seeing the pair come rushing out of the palmetto scrub he
scrambled to his feet, looking more or less alarmed.
“What is it--a bear, or a wildcat?” he demanded, starting to place his
precious camera and tripod in the boat, so as to be ready for a hasty
departure.
“Get away from here in a hurry, Jack!” gasped Ballyhoo; “we’ve seen
something that threatens all sorts of tough things, and Captain Shooks
ought to know about the same.”
The boat was launched without loss of time, Ballyhoo even wading in the
wash of the sea up to his knees, in order to shove off, for that was
the kind of a fellow the Jones boy was.
Then the paddles fairly flew, and they sped out toward the spot where
the float and the squatty submarine lay. How fortunate, Oscar told
himself as he worked his paddle, that the undersea boat chanced to be
on the surface just then. Had it been otherwise the delay consequent
upon getting their message to the skipper might have made all the
difference imaginable with regard to results.
Captain Shooks was on the float talking with the diver, who had
apparently just before come to the surface. Oscar noticed that the
bronzed face of the skipper appeared to be wreathed in a broad smile,
as though he had received some happy news in the report of the diver.
As the three boys hastened to climb aboard the float, he called out to
them:
“Well, we’ve struck oil, lads! What d’ye think of that for a starter,
now?”
He was holding something out toward them, and the boys could see first
of all that it required an effort for him to do so, as though the
brick-like object might be quite heavy. They stared hard at it. So far
as a first look went there did not seem to be anything very remarkable
about the thing. It had a peculiar, greenish look, as though the action
of the sea water had covered it with a slime in all the long years that
it had lodged there far down in the depths.
“What is it?” asked Ballyhoo eagerly, yet evidently puzzled to guess
the truth.
“Bullion!” said Captain Shooks with a queer chuckle, “some of the bully
stuff that we organized this expedition to find. And Hicks here says
there’s more down in the bowels of the old Spanish galleon where he got
this, much more!”
“Oh! what d’ye think of that, now?” cried Ballyhoo, reaching out his
hands for the weighty object, and showing by his actions as soon as he
received it that he had all he could do to hold the same, it was so
heavy.
Jack, like the investigating fellow that he had always proved in
the past quickly snatched out his knife, opened the big blade, and
commenced scratching the back of the dull-looking brick. Immediately
they caught a bright sheen wherever the edge of the blade pursued its
activities.
“You’re right, Captain, it’s gold!” gasped Ballyhoo, grinning as though
he had seen one of his most wonderful dreams come true.
They all stared at the bullion. Perhaps through Oscar’s imaginative
mind there may have flashed a strange picture just then. Remembering
all he had ever read concerning the doings of those old-time worthies
who defied the perils of the sea in those early days, he saw this same
precious metal handled by men in odd, picturesque dress, carrying long
swords, and wearing hats adorned with waving feathers--those reckless
conquistadores, in fact, who raided both Mexico and Peru under such
leaders as Cortez and Pizarro.
Possibly for a brief space the scroll of time seemed to unroll before
the boy’s vision, and he peopled that float with those ancient
worthies, all carrying just such weighty bricks of gold, seized from
the stores of the poor natives, and meant to be carried across the sea
to Spain.
Then he came to himself with a shock. The presence of that modern
miracle boat capable of descending to the bottom of the sea told him
that he was living in the Twentieth Century, and not away back there in
those primitive days.
Yes, and he also remembered something else--those three spies in the
little motor launch, who had evidently been watching their operations
until assured that they possessed accurate knowledge of the location of
the lost galleon--they were even now on the way to carry the news to
Captain Badger.
“But we have come to give you warning, Captain!” he hurriedly
exclaimed, while, of course, Jack listened eagerly, being almost eaten
up with curiosity to know what it really was had frightened his two
chums.
“What’s that you say, lad?” cried the skipper, recovering the precious
bullion.
“We made a discovery while ashore,” Oscar went on. “As we drew near the
other end of the Key we heard the sound of oars, and then saw a boat
that had just left land.”
“Then there _were_ people on the island after all,” snapped the
captain, frowning, as though now it was too late, he regretted that he
had not gone ashore in the first place, and closely examined every rod
of ground before commencing operations; for, as Ballyhoo afterwards
remarked, Captain Shooks was like most folks whose “hindsight was a
heap better than their foresight.”
“Yes, and they were no turtle hunters or spongers either,” blurted
out Ballyhoo, desirous of having a hand in divulging the great news.
“The boat was a small launch that could be rowed, and had one of
those overboard motors at the stern. Yes, and when it swerved Oscar
here, through our glasses, saw the name painted at the bow. It was
_Dauntless_, Captain; what d’ye think of that, now?”
The gruff skipper said something pretty strong, but it seemed to
express the state of his feelings to a fraction. From the way in which
he glanced down at the relic just recovered from the wreck, it was
plain to be seen he felt doubly furious to have such a thing as this
happen just when they had commenced to strike “pay dirt.”
“They’ve been keeping tabs on us, then, the snakes!” he growled.
“All day long, I reckon,” admitted Oscar, “and finally, after making
sure that we meant business, and had found a wreck of some kind,
they’ve started off to tell that Badger man, so he can come bullying
around here, and chase us away by a show of force.”
Ballyhoo looked disconsolate. Already in imagination he possibly saw
the black steam yacht tied up to their float, with divers going down to
loot the prize at the bottom of the sea, which had lain there hundreds
of years, and might have continued to defy all the efforts of ambitious
mankind to locate the same only for the enterprise of the “Argonaut
Submarine Diving-Boat Company.”
“Which way were they heading?” demanded the skipper, grinding his teeth
hard together, and looking as though he could “bite a ten-penny nail in
two,” as Ballyhoo would have put it.
“Trying to keep the land between themselves and our float here,”
explained Oscar, “but we guessed they meant to swing around some, and
put for that other Key after they thought they were so far away we
wouldn’t hear the putter of the motor when muffled.”
“And using only the oars, you say?” continued the other, eagerly.
“Yes, sir, not making any desperate hurry,” replied Oscar.
“That settles it,” ground out the skipper. “We’ve got to overtake that
crowd unless we want to have all our plans knocked galley-west.”
Turning, he proceeded to give orders to the man who acted as his mate.
“Send Finnegan down right away, and rush things like hot cakes, d’ye
hear? We’ve got to get our hands on all this stuff that’s lying around
loose, and save our bacon. If it’s necessary, I’ll take my turn at the
job; which wouldn’t be the first time I’d been down below.”
Then once more addressing the boys, he went on to say:
“Get aboard the boat, lads; and you men hoist the collapsible on deck.
We may have need of the same to pick up some poor chaps swimming in the
sea!”
Ballyhoo was thrilled by hearing the captain say this. He guessed that
the energetic skipper meant to adopt stern means in order to block the
game of the enemy.
They all hastened to comply with his wishes, for every minute was
precious. If those spies had already started to make use of their
little overboard motor they would be speeding along at the rate of
at least eight miles an hour; but then the submarine was capable of
doing twice that, so before a great while the fugitive craft could be
overhauled.
Apparently, there promised to be some lively times ahead. From what
Captain Shooks had said, Ballyhoo surmised it was his intention to
actually run the launch down, after which they would, of course, do
their best to pick up the survivors. These were drastic methods of
meeting the schemes of Badger’s men, but the conditions required heroic
measures.
Hardly had the boat been lifted aboard the submarine, and lines cast
off than the engines started up, and they began to leave the float with
its occupants behind.
“Now for some rattling pictures, Jack,” said Ballyhoo; “get ready to
grab everything that goes on, because it’s going to be a thriller,
unless I miss my guess.”