TELLING A GREAT DEAL ABOUT DERELICTS IN GENERAL
ALTHOUGH there seemed to be everything for comfort about the Pepper
mansion, the habits of the household were most simple. Miss Frances was
evidently a woman of very domestic tastes, and had a vital interest
in all her household arrangements. Yet there appeared to be plenty of
servants about.
When dinner was over, the merchant had a short conference with his
manager, Mr. Marks, who always came to report on matters at the close
of the day; after which he took his two guests into the library, and
the all absorbing topic of the search for the Silver Swan was broached
by Caleb, who had now regained some of his wonted confidence.
“This ’ere delay is a bad thing,” the old sailor declared, when Miss
Frances had left them to talk the matter over. “If I hadn’t been
laid up all these weeks in the hospital, I sh’d ha’ follered up the
brig long before, and had the di’monds. Now we’ve got two--yes,
three--circumstances against us.
“First and foremost is the fact that the Swan has already been afloat
’most two months, an’ that’s longer than the majority of derelicts
last. Then these confounded cruisers may get after her any minute,
which will be remarkably bad for our plans. And thirdly, as the
parsons say, there’s that rascal Leroyd. He’s not the man I think him
if he doesn’t make a break for the wreck at once.”
“And he’s got the papers, too,” interjected Mr. Pepper.
Caleb smiled at this, but said nothing in reply, continuing his remarks:
“Now, I’ve seen a good many derelicts in my time--a good many--but if
the Silver Swan is in the shape I think her, she’s liable (setting
aside accident) to float for months. And she’s got lots of company,
too.”
“I should think these derelicts would be dreadfully dangerous,”
suggested Brandon, with all the curiosity of a boy about anything
pertaining to sea and sea going.
“They are,” declared Caleb; “more dangerous, it’s likely, than anybody
dreams of. Many a good ship--steamers and sailing vessels both--has
doubtless gone to Davy Jones’ Locker because of them. Take one o’ these
’ere European steamships making time across the ocean; she strikes a
derelict--a coal laden one, mebbe; they’re the most dangerous--and we
never hear of her again.
“I’ll never forget something that happened when I was mate of the
American bark Neptune, several years ago. The Neptune were a mighty
speedy craft, an’ Cap’n Tollman was a terror for crowding on all sail.
“We was scuddin’ along one dark night before a stiff easterly gale,
an’ I had the deck. It was just before eight bells--half past three
o’clock, mebbe--when all to onct the man on lookout gave a yell that
fairly riz my hair on end.
“‘A wreck! dead ahead!’ he yelled. ‘Down with your helm! hard down!’
“I jumped to the wheel myself an’ helped the helmsman swing ’er over.
Right up before us loomed the dim, black form of a vessel--her stern
under water, an’ her bowsprit straight up. I tell ye, for about two
minutes I was dead sure ’twas all day with the old Neptune, and us
along with her.
“However she did it I dunno, but she answered her helm quicker ’n she
did afore or since. She jest shaved the wreck, some of the cordage
fastened to the upright bowsprit catching in our spars an’ being torn
away, an’ we slipped by without any damage. But I don’t want to have a
closer shave than _that_.”
“That was a close call, Cale,” said Mr. Pepper reflectively. “I’ve a
man in my employ--Richards his name is; he sails this trip as captain
of the Calypso--who came originally from New Brunswick. A regular
‘blue-nose’ he is, and a good sailor.
“Well, he was one of the crew of the ‘Joggins raft’ as it was called,
that left the Bay of Fundy for New York several years ago.”
“And a mighty foolish thing that was, too,” interrupted Caleb, shaking
his head. “It’s a merciful Providence that that thing didn’t occasion
half a dozen wrecks; but it didn’t, as far as anybody knows.”
“Richards tells a pretty thrilling story of his experience,” the
merchant continued, seeing that Brandon was interested in the tale.
“Lumber and coal laden derelicts are considered the most dangerous,
eh, Caleb? And this Joggins raft was probably the most perilous object
that was ever set afloat.
“The raft was composed of 27,000 great tree trunks, bound together
with chains, and it weighed something like eleven thousand tons. The
hawsers by which it was towed, parted in a hurricane, and the raft went
to pieces south of Nantasket. For a good many months the logs were
reported as scattered over a great portion of the North Atlantic. As
Caleb says, however, they did no damage, but the hydrographic charts
during the time were plentifully decorated with them.”
“What are these hydrographic charts?” asked Brandon, with interest.
“That clipping Leroyd lost and which I found, mentioned the matter of
the Swan’s being reported to the Hydrographic Office at Washington.
What did it mean?”
“Well,” responded Mr. Pepper, while Caleb, at the little merchant’s
request, filled and smoked his evening pipe, “when these abandoned
wrecks are sighted by incoming steamers, they are reported at once to
the Hydrographic Office at the capitol, the latitude and longitude,
name of the vessel if known, and her position in the water, being given.
“As fast as messages of this kind are received at the office they are
posted on a big blackboard on which is inscribed an outline map of the
North Atlantic. The position of each derelict is indicated by a pin
stuck into the board, and thrust at the same time through a square
scrap of paper.
“On this bit of paper is inscribed in red ink the name of the deserted
craft, if it is known, together with a minute picture showing the
attitude of the vessel, whether bottom up, sunken at the stern, or
what not.
“These little pictures are reproduced on the next pilot chart (which is
a monthly publication), and changes are made in the chart as frequently
as the derelicts are reported.”
“Seems to me, ’Doniram,” remarked Caleb, puffing away with vast content
at the pipe--“seems to me you know a good deal about this derelict
business.”
The little man seemed strangely confused at this, and his jolly face
blushed a deep red as he shifted his position restlessly.
“Well,” he said slowly. “I _have_ been looking it up lately. I--I had
an idea--a scheme, you know--that caused me to study the matter some.
Seems odd, too, doesn’t it, with the matter of the Silver Swan coming
right on top of it?”
But here Brandon, whose thoughts had been wandering a little,
interrupted any further questioning on the sailor’s part.
“I’m dreadfully sorry that that rascally Leroyd got away with the
letter father wrote me,” he said reflectively.
Caleb looked at him with a smile, and removed his pipe from between his
lips.
“Did I say he _had_ got away with it?” he said.
“Eh?” interjected Adoniram, quickly.
“What do you mean?” queried Brandon.
“See here,” said Caleb, enjoying their surprise, “You’ve been running
this pretty much by yourselves. _I_ haven’t said that the swab got away
with the papers, have I?”
“For pity’s sake, what _did_ he steal then?” demanded Brandon,
springing to his feet.
“Well,” returned the mate of the Silver Swan, “by my reckoning he got
an old pocketbook with some worthless bills of lading in it and about
ten dollars in money--an’ much good may it do him.”
“Why--why--” sputtered Mr. Pepper, staring at the smiling sailor in
amazement.
“Now, don’t be in a hurry,” urged Caleb. “I _didn’t_ say the papers
were stolen, so don’t ye accuse me o’ that. Ye both jumped at that
conclusion and I let you think so, for as I’d made a fool of myself
once by lettin’ folks know I had ’em, I reckoned I wouldn’t do it again.
“But now,” he added, “if ye think this is the time and place to see
them papers, I can perduce ’em ter oncet.”
“Where are they? Let’s see ’em,” urged Brandon, in excitement.
“All right, my lad. If you says the word, why here goes.”
The old sailor laid his pipe down, and coolly began to unstrap his
wooden leg. The implement was an old fashioned affair, consisting of
a smoothly turned stick at the lower end hardly larger than a broom
handle, but swelling as it rose, to the semblance of a leg.
In a moment he had it off and to the surprise of his two friends this
swelled portion of the imitation limb was hollow. From this cavity he
drew forth first a bulky wallet and then a package of papers wrapped in
oiled paper.
“There ye be,” he declared, with satisfaction. “If _I’d_ known about
them di’monds afore we left the brig, I sh’d have had the cap’n let me
hide ’em in this ’ere timber leg. Then we’d have been saved a mighty
sight o’ bother.”