THE PURSUIT.
The morning of the third day was an epoch in the lives of the passengers
on board the Storm King, for a passing vessel was signaled. It hove to,
and the captain quite willingly accepted as passengers to his next port
of call, San Francisco, the Senor and his daughter.
It is needless to say that Jim gazed long and intently after the Lotus
which bore away the Senorita and her father, and equally long and
intently, although Jim did not know it, did the young lady watch the
Storm King until it had become but a speck on the horizon.
For several hours Jim was seen no more on deck, and many a merry quip
was bandied at his expense. What Jim was doing will appear later.
"It is certainly out of the ordinary," admitted Becket. He had just come
aft to where the professor was consulting with Jo and Tom. They had been
discussing the action of the Marjorie, the ship which had taken its
departure from San Francisco on the same day and very hour that they had
sailed, and which had again been sighted when they left San Matteo. She
was trailing about a mile astern of them, and here it was the third day
since they had sailed.
"She has been following us right along," observed Tom. "Do you think she
is going the same way we are?"
"A man might be justified in thinking so," replied Berwick, dryly.
"I mean," corrected Tom, "to the island?"
"I don't know what to think," admitted the professor, "but I don't like
it somehow."
"It is queer," reiterated the engineer.
"Let us run away from him," suggested Jim, who now joined them.
"I have tried to outsail him, but it's no use," returned the captain.
"She is burning up the coal, yet only traveling as fast as we do under
sail."
"Suppose we try again and see if she is really following us."
"Let us radically change our course, captain, and see if they follow
us," said the professor.
"That isn't a bad idea," agreed the captain. "It won't do any harm to
try it. We will have her head put due west. I see that we are running
about S. S. W. now. If they change their course it will be pretty
conclusive evidence that it is purpose and not chance that keeps them in
our wake."
"Mr. Berwick," said the professor, "the wind is light and fitful,
suppose we add steam to our propelling force. Give us all the speed you
can, and we will see if we can't shake them off."
"All right, sir," replied the engineer, going toward the engine room. "I
will do my very best to get all the speed there is in her."
An hour later the throbbing of the engine, as the pressure was gradually
increased, was felt throughout the vessel. Like a spirited steed with a
bit in her teeth, and at the snap of the whip the vessel darted forward,
plunging through the long rolling waves, and leaving behind her a white
wake that curved like a bow as her prow was turned to the west.
The group on the after deck of the Storm King watched with interest the
course of the other vessel, which was now being rapidly distanced, would
pursue.
"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "We are leaving her behind."
"But she is getting up more steam," observed Jo, as a thickening volume
of smoke poured from her funnel.
"She is following us, too," cried Tom a little later. "She evidently
likes company."
It was evident from the change in her course that the Marjorie was bent
on keeping near the Storm King.
"She is just like some people," went on Tom. "She doesn't wait for an
invitation, she is coming along, too."
The Storm King, under a full head of steam was rolling off the knots,
and increasing the distance from the Marjorie.
"If we can keep this up," said Tom, joyfully, "she will soon be hull
down."
"If we had a nigger to put on the safety valve," said the professor.
"A nigger on the safety valve," questioned Tom, "I don't understand."
"Why they say that on the Mississippi river when they have a race on,
they put a negro on the safety valve to keep it down when the pressure
gets so high as to blow it off at the regular set weight."
"But that must be dangerous," objected Tom.
"Of course, it is," laughed the professor, "but nobody cared for danger
where there was a race on."
But in the meantime the Marjorie was once more picking up the distance
and growing more distinct. For three or more hours the race went on, but
the Marjorie regained and then maintained her relative distance, and the
professor reluctantly directed the captain to slow down.
"It is no use," he said. "We cannot shake her off that way. We might as
well resume our regular course."
The following morning the same conditions were found to prevail. The
distance between the boats seemingly never changed.
"She is a good boat and jolly well sailed, don't you know," remarked the
mate, who was a typical English sailor.
"What is that flag for?" asked Tom suddenly.
"What flag is that?" asked the captain in return.
"Why, that one there," replied Tom, pointing to a square of red bunting
flying from a davit of their own ship.
"That," laughed the captain. "Well, you ought to know better than I do."
"Why?" asked Tom.
"Really," said the captain, "didn't some of you boys put it there?"
"Why, of course not," disclaimed Tom. "I thought maybe it was some kind
of a signal."
"Well, I'll be blowed," exploded the captain, "if I didn't think you did
it for a lark."
"There is one like it on the Marjorie," said Jim, who was using the
binocular.
"Well, what do you think of that!" burst out the captain.
"What does it mean?" asked Tom.
"It means that someone on board is exchanging signals with the
Marjorie," replied the professor.
"I wish I could catch them at it," muttered the captain, grimly.
"Let us take turns in watching," suggested Jim.
"I am going to do a little watching on my own account," growled the
captain, making a dash for the supposed signal.
"Don't pull it down," advised the professor, "perhaps we can see who
puts them up."
"I think you are right."
"They are doing some kind of signaling on the Marjorie now," went on
Jim. "I can see some one waving a flag."
"There isn't anyone here who could see it," said the captain, looking
over the deck. "Let me have a look," taking the glass. "There is some
kind of signaling going on, but who can it be to?" Jo walked quietly to
the stern of the boat, and leaning over the rail looked down. The stern
windows of the cabin afforded a view of the pursuing vessel, and where
the signals could be observed, but he could not see if anyone was there.
Something did attract his attention, however, though it only impressed
itself on his mind as an odd chance. A keg was floating in the wake of
the Storm King, but most unusual things are sometimes seen on the
surface of the ocean, hundreds of miles from land.
"Perhaps there is someone in the cabin," he suggested, as he came back
to where the captain was standing.
"By jove!" gasped the captain, making a dash for the companion way, "I
believe you have it."
At this moment the steward came on deck.
"See here!" roared the captain, "What is the meaning of this?"
The steward smiled complacently, and said, "Why, sir, I know nothing
about the flag. I have finished my tasks in the pantry, and came on deck
for a breath of air."
The captain, debating the matter in his mind, concluded he would say no
more at that time, and turned his attention again to the others. The
steward went about his duties.
"They have quit signaling," reported Tom.
"What do you make of that other ship's continued interest in us,
captain?" asked the professor.
"I'm blessed if I know," he replied. "It's too deep for me. They have
been following us ever since we left the bay, and I'm blessed if I don't
think they are after us. But I cannot imagine for what purpose."
"I suspect," said the professor, "that they have some knowledge of the
fact that we are after a treasure."
"Oh," said the captain, "but they can't expect to keep us under
observation for a long trip like this. It would be ridiculous."
"What they want most likely is the chart. Only with its aid can anyone
locate the island or the treasure."
The captain sat for a few moments in thought. "There must have been
somebody on board getting the signals. Now who could it be?"
"One of the crew," suggested Tom.
"Quite likely," agreed the captain, "unless--"
"What?" said the professor.
"It was the steward."
"No," said the professor. "You can leave him out. He has been with me
for years."
"All the more reason," returned the captain. "He'll jolly well stand
watching. What we have got to do is to watch out, and perhaps we can
trap them."
"I think--" he added. With a sudden thought he got up and went to the
companion way, returning slowly to his seat. "I may have a clue."
"What is it?" cried Tom.
"It is only an idea, don't you know, and I won't say anything until I
work it out. You say the chart is aboard?"
"Yes."
The captain whistled softly for a minute. "Better put it away
somewhere."
"That has already been done," admitted the professor, looking at the
boys. "It is hidden away, and I don't think anyone can find it."
"Even if they could find it, how could they get away with it?" inquired
Tom.
"That's easily done," explained the captain, "when they find it."
"When!" interrupted Tom.
"Maybe only a matter of days," returned the captain. "They will signal
to the other ship, put it in a keg, drop it over and the others will
pick it up."
"A keg," queried Jo. "I saw a keg floating in the wake of our ship just
a little while ago."