CHAPTER XX.

THE THEORY AND THE FACTS.

We spent an hour in searching in every nook and corner of the cabin for

the other half of the lost treasure. Cornwood had not been stupid

enough to put it under the companion-way; and Nick had been stupid

enough to let his companion know where he had hidden his own share. As

Colonel Shepard had suggested, it was probable that the Floridian meant

to take it before he went on shore at New Orleans. Cornwood had not

concealed his share of the treasure in the cabin of the Islander, and

we could think of no other place where he was at all likely to deposit

it.

"I think he has too long a head to hide his money anywhere," interposed

Captain Blastblow. "I should say that any man was a natural fool to

hide his money in a vessel, under such circumstances as these fellows

came on board of the steamer. In my opinion, he has concealed the

money on his person, for you seem to have no doubt that he divided with

the young swell."

"That looks very reasonable," added Colonel Shepard. "I think if I had

a large sum on board of a vessel, I should provide myself with a

money-belt, and keep the treasure in it at all times."

"All we have to do is to search him," said Captain Blastblow. "We shall

soon find out whether or not he is a party to the robbery. I suppose

there isn't any doubt about the young swell, as the steward called him,

and which I think is the best description of him."

"The package, with the two tin plates, precisely answers the

description given of it by the man that lost it," I replied. "But I

doubt whether we have any right to search Cornwood. We are not

officers, and we are now in the State of Louisiana."

"We have as much right to search him as we had to lay hands on him when

we came alongside of the Islander," replied Colonel Shepard. "I think

we can get at the truth better than any court can. At any rate, he has

taken part in stealing my steam-yacht; and I think I have some hold on

him. If it turns out that he has not the money on him, I have no doubt

I can make it all right with him. I am willing to take the

responsibility."

"All right. I will help your man bring him down here, for I think we

had better not say anything to Mr. Boomsby until we have settled where

the other half of the money is," said Captain Blastblow.

"Bring him down here," replied the colonel.

The captain soon returned with the pilot, having Cornwood between them.

The prisoner seemed to be somewhat bewildered, for no charge had yet

been preferred against him.

"Mr. Cornwood, you seem to be acting in a different role than that for

which I engaged you at St. Augustine," said Colonel Shepard, when the

pilot had put his prisoner into a chair.

"It was my intention to place the steamer in your hands by the time you

arrived in Key West," replied Cornwood, with dignity.

"You gave me a letter when you came on board the Islander at Key West,"

said Captain Blastblow, savagely, to the prisoner.

"I gave you the owner's letter," added Cornwood.

"No, you didn't! you gave me this letter," continued the captain,

taking a paper from his pocket. "Is this your letter, Colonel Shepard?"

He gave the letter to his owner. The colonel looked at it and laughed.

"This is not so good an imitation of my handwriting as the other

letter," he added. "I never wrote a line of this letter. It favors the

theory we have adopted, and I will give it to you."

CAPTAIN BLASTBLOW.

DEAR SIR: This letter will be delivered to you by my excellent

friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, who has been my companion during my

trip to the interior of Florida, and I commend him to your

acquaintance and good offices. You will give him a state-room on

board of the Islander, for he will make the trip with you to New

Orleans. You will continue to avoid the Sylvania, and in all

matters relating to the steamer you will take the advice of Mr.

Cornwood, in whose fidelity and good judgment I have entire

confidence.

Very truly yours,

P. G. SHEPARD.

"My excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood!" exclaimed the colonel. "Did

you ever know a man to have so many excellent friends as I have? Why,

they are all willing to sacrifice themselves, and take my steam-yacht

and run her at my expense, and even without my knowledge."

"You did not write that letter, colonel?" asked Captain Blastblow.

"Of course I did not," replied the owner, warmly. "Why, the writing is

quite different from that given to you by my friend, Mr. Boomsby."

"I am afraid I shall not be willing to take any written orders after

this, unless the signature is witnessed by some one I know. I am sure I

did not think of such a thing as a counterfeit letter. But did you send

any letter to me by your excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" asked

Captain Blastblow.

"I did send a letter to you by him, instructing you to wait at Key West

till my arrival there," replied the colonel.

"Will you give me that letter, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" demanded the

captain, addressing the prisoner in a very vigorous manner.

"I gave you the letter I received from Colonel Shepard. I have no

other," replied Cornwood, doggedly.

"I don't believe you, when Colonel Shepard says he did not write that

letter."

"Do you mean to tell me I lie?" cried Cornwood.

"That's the substance of what I mean," answered the captain, who seemed

to hold the prisoner in utter contempt.

"You are a coward, or you would not say that to a man with his arms

tied behind him," returned Cornwood, repressing his wrath.

"You invited me to say it, and I said it; and it wouldn't make any

difference to me whether your arms were tied or not. But I want the

other letter, and I am going to have it. Captain Cayo, we will search

him, and then we shall know whether he has it or not," added Captain

Blastblow.

The captain and the pilot proceeded at once to execute the threat.

Cornwood leaped from his chair, and began to kick at his two

persecutors. He was boiling with rage, or with some other passion. But

Captain Cayo seized him from behind by the shoulders, and threw him

down before he could do any harm. The captain took from his pocket a

strong cord he had evidently brought down for the purpose, and while

the pilot held him down, tied his ankles together. They then began the

search, examining all his pockets first. They found neither the money

nor the letter.

"We haven't gone deep enough," said Captain Blastblow, as he thrust his

hand into the inside of Cornwood's shirt. The latter seemed to

understand what this movement meant, and he renewed his struggles in

the most desperate manner.

Captain Cayo put his foot on Cornwood's chest, as he had done when he

captured the Floridian, and compelled him to lie quiet. Then he threw

up his manacled feet; but I took care of them by sitting down upon his

legs. Captain Blastblow then proceeded with his search. He removed a

portion of the prisoner's clothing above his trousers, and we could not

help seeing the wash-leather belt he wore around his waist. He

unbuckled it, and held it up before us.

"Now you may take Mr. Kirby Cornwood on deck," said the captain, in a

tone of triumph, as he felt the outside of the pocket-book attached to

the belt.

"Do you mean to rob me of my money? Have I fallen among thieves?"

demanded Cornwood.

"No; but we have," replied Captain Blastblow.

"This is an outrage, and----"

"Never mind that now; we will hear it another time," interposed the

captain.

"I protest against----"

"All right," added the captain, as he seated himself at the

cabin-table. "Go on deck, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, and take the air. It will

do you good."

The captain handed the money-belt to Colonel Shepard, who opened it,

and took from the pocket a large pile of bank-notes.

"That looks more like it," said the captain. "I don't believe that

fellow will prosecute us for anything we have done. He belongs in the

Florida state prison, if they have such an institution."

"I think we had better count the money," I suggested, as I took the

package we had found under the companion-way from my breast-pocket.

"Yes, count, and see if the rascals made a fair 'divvy' of it," added

the captain.

Colonel Shepard began to count the bills he had taken from the

money-belt, and I opened the package in my possession. As I did so, I

found the words, "First National Bank of Florida," as if impressed by a

stamp, on the wrapper. The two tin plates, by which I had been able to

recognize the package, were made by cutting off the round ends of a

pair of tins used for doubling papers and tearing off checks or other

papers. I concluded they were a device of the bank messenger, by which

he could square his package. When I had shown these things to the

captain, I proceeded to count the money.

"Just two thousand dollars," said the colonel, who finished his work

long before I did mine.

"Nineteen hundred and ninety," I added, when I had finished the count.

"He may have taken out ten dollars," suggested the colonel.

"I don't believe Cornwood did, for I found other money in his pockets,

which I did not touch," added Captain Blastblow.

"Count it over again, Captain Alick," said the colonel.

I did so, laying off the bills in hundreds, as they amounted to this

sum. My last lot came out right, and I had twenty piles. It made just

two thousand dollars. It was clear now, if it had not been before, that

Cornwood's visit to Key West related to Nick Boomsby, and not to the

detention of the Islander when she arrived there. The equal division of

the money explained the long and rather stormy conversations between

the passengers of the Islander. Cornwood was smart, if he was nothing

else in the way of honesty and uprightness. He had bullied and

persuaded poor Nick Boomsby to give him half the money, and would

probably have stolen the other half before the vessel got to New

Orleans, if we had not captured her on the way.

I was sorry for Nick Boomsby, for he had been the playmate of my early

years; not so sorry that he had been found out as that he could commit

a crime. But I could hardly wonder at his guilt when I thought of what

his father had done, and what an example he had given his son. I

thought the father was almost, if not quite, as much to blame as the

son.

"What shall be done with this money?" asked Colonel Shepard, when he

had wrapped up both divisions of the money and the money-belt in one

package.

"What shall we do with our two prisoners?" I inquired, in answer to the

question.

"We can hand them over to the police in New Orleans," replied the

colonel.

"Then we can hand the money also over to them," I added. "Probably the

news of the robbery of the messenger has been in half the newspapers in

the country, and the police of all the large cities will know all about

the case."

It was finally agreed that my father should keep the money till we

arrived at New Orleans, as he would be in another steamer from the

robbers. Colonel Shepard decided to go on board of the Islander at

once, and his family were assisted to their new quarters.

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