PICKED UP.
The afternoon drifted into evening, and somewhat disheartened we
prepared to pass another night on the Hasty. We arranged that Phil
should sleep first for about three hours, and then I was to take my
turn.
"Tie yourself fast," said I, "or you may roll off."
He followed my advice, and it was not long before he was in a sound
slumber. I sat on the cask, steering as well as I could by the stars.
Suddenly from out of the gloom ahead an object loomed up. I started to
my feet and strained my eyes.
It was a steam yacht!
For an instant I could hardly believe my eyes. Then I gave a wild cry
that caused Phil to jump up in alarm.
"What is it?" he asked anxiously.
"A ship!"
"A ship! Where?"
"Dead ahead. Let us hail her."
And together we called out as loudly as we could:
"Ship ahoy!"
There was no answer; but the yacht came nearer.
"Ship ahoy!"
"Ahoy here!" came back the welcome cry.
Then we heard the engine of the craft cease to work, and presently the
long, slim yacht came close beside us.
"Who are you?" asked some one from the deck.
"We are shipwrecked from the Spitfire," replied Phil.
"Will you take us on board?" I added.
"Certainly; we have been looking for you," came the strange reply.
But at that instant I recognized Mr. Ranson standing at the rail! The
lawyer looked highly pleased to see us, and waved his hand.
In a moment a rope was thrown to us from the yacht, and without any
difficulty we ascended to the deck, where a small crowd of men
surrounded us.
"Right glad am I to see you!" exclaimed Mr. Ranson, as he shook me by
the hand. "And you, too," he added to Phil.
"Where are the rest of the crew?" asked the captain of the yacht.
"I don't know," was my reply. "They went off in the jolly-boat and left
us behind."
"You can tell your story in the cabin," put in another man, who was
dressed in navy-blue and wore a badge upon his breast.
"Yes, that would be best," said the lawyer. "How do you feel?"
"All right."
"A little hungry," added Phil.
"You shall dine at once," said the captain, a man by the name of Flagg.
He led the way to the cabin, and the lawyer, the man in navy-blue, Phil
and I followed.
"This is Luke Foster, and this is Philip Jones," said Mr. Ranson,
presenting us. "Captain Flagg, and Mr. Henshaw, of the government
force."
We all shook hands and sat down. Then Phil and I told our stories
straight to the finish, and I also produced the letters I had taken from
the locker in Captain Hannock's stateroom.
"A serious case, a serious case indeed," said Mr. Henshaw, when we had
finished. "Will you let me retain these letters?"
I looked at Mr. Ranson.
"Yes; let him have them. The matter is now in the hands of the
government."
By the time our story was at an end the supper was served, and never
did two boys make a heartier meal than did Phil and I. As we all sat
around the table Mr. Henshaw asked us many questions, and made numerous
notes of our answers.
"And how did you come to be out here for us?" I asked of the lawyer.
"Didn't I promise to help you?" he replied. "When I left the Spitfire it
was my intention to return before she set sail again. I was under the
impression that you had gone ashore, especially as Dibble thought so
too."
"Where is Dibble? He was not on board."
"He, too, was left. Captain Hannock sent him ashore on an errand, and
set sail before either of us could return. I think he must have smelt a
mouse."
"He'll smell a still bigger mouse when he reaches shore," said the
government officer, with a broad laugh. "Burning a vessel and a bogus
cargo that are heavily insured is no light offense."
"Where do you think he will land?"
"The first place he strikes. It isn't much fun sailing around in a
jolly-boat."
"It is my idea that he will land at Nantucket," said Captain Flagg.
"It won't make much difference to us," said the lawyer. "We will
certainly hear of him in a few days, when he comes to make his claim.
He won't lose much time in doing that, you can depend."
"And in the mean time I can telegraph to New York to have this Stillwell
arrested," went on Mr. Henshaw.
I gave a start. I had not thought of such an occurrence.
"What's the matter?" asked the government officer, noticing me.
"Stillwell is Foster's uncle," explained the lawyer.
"Indeed! Well, I am sorry for you, but the law is no respecter of
persons. Prince and pauper are alike to Uncle Sam."
"Mr. Stillwell is my uncle only in name," I replied. "He has never
treated me half decent, and is even now trying to defraud me out of my
inheritance."
"Indeed! Then there is no love lost between you."
"Not a bit, sir."
"By these letters I should say he was not a man to be trusted."
By Mr. Ranson's advice I told my story. Mr. Henshaw was deeply
interested.
"It was a great mistake in one way to run away," he said. "But in
another it has helped to gather evidence against him, evidence that will
count for much. But let me tell you one thing."
"Well, sir?"
"I doubt if his son took that money."
"But he was in the office."
"Only for a short while. That money was gone before the office was
opened in the morning."
I could hardly believe that. When I had opened the office and swept it
everything appeared all right.
"Mark my words if I am not right," went on the government officer.
"I can't see how a thief from the outside could get in the place," I
replied.
"No: but a thief from the inside----" said Mr. Ranson, dryly.
I started, struck by a sudden thought.
"You don't mean----?" I began.
"What?"
"That my uncle took that money himself?" I burst out.
"I don't say he did, but it may be so," said Mr. Ranson slowly. "He has
your money in trust. The letter to Hannock says he does not as yet dare
to touch the money in his charge. With you in prison he could do as he
pleased. Do you follow me?"
"I do; and it's as plain as day. But I never thought my uncle was such a
villain!"
"I do not say he is; but it looks so. Who would have thought him in
league with Hannock?"
"No one in New York surely," said I.
I could not help but think what a sensation my uncle's arrest would
produce. How Mr. Banker would stare when he heard of it! I was sorry for
my aunt's sake, but Mr. Stillwell had brought it upon himself.
Then I wondered if I would be able to clear myself. One thing gave me
not a little comfort. It was Mr. Ranson's words:
"Remember, they have got to prove you guilty. Until that is done every
man is considered innocent."
Yet this did not entirely satisfy me. I wanted to prove that I had not
taken the money. If I did not I was sure there would be some who would
always look down upon me.
Now that Mr. Ranson had found us, the course of the steam yacht was
changed, so that we headed directly for Boston. Phil and I were assigned
a cosy stateroom, and it is perhaps useless to state that both of us
slept soundly.
Early in the morning I was aroused by a cry on deck, and the next moment
there was a sharp rap on the door.
"What is it?" I asked.
"We have sighted the jolly-boat!" was Captain Flagg's reply. "You and
Jones keep out of sight and there will be fun ahead."