THE ONE FELLOW WHO WAS LEFT YET.
During the morning, Mr. Berkeley and Phil were busily engaged in farm
affairs with Jenny’s father and Joel. Chap had thought of going home,
but Mr. Berkeley had urged him not to break up the family party so
soon, and Mr. Muller remained until he should have an opportunity of
entering upon his own business.
Chap was delighted when he saw the man with the black straw hat sitting
alone under one of the trees on the lawn, but it cannot be truthfully
said that the heart of Mr. Muller leaped very high for joy when he saw
the long-legged boy striding down upon him.
“What about that wreck?” said Chap. “I’ve been just aching for a chance
to speak to you. We ought to go right to work. It won’t do to let this
family slide back again into misery the very minute they’ve got a
little hoist out of it. From what I can make out, there’ll be lots of
money wanted yet. And that wreck has got to be bounced out of the mud
in short order. I suppose you are all ready to pitch right in. Have you
told Mr. Berkeley what you’re here for?”
“Well, no,” said Mr. Muller, “I haven’t yet. There has been no time.
And I am sure there is no hurry about that wreck. It has been in the
mud a long time, and it will wait there till we want it.”
“No, it won’t,” cried Chap. “No, it won’t. There isn’t a night but I
tremble for that wreck. That French boy knows all about it, and you
can’t tell when he and his father will come up the river in a boat,
with divers and submarine armor, and they’ll have a hole cut in the
side of that ship, and all the treasure-boxes taken out, before we know
a thing about it.”
“That would be bad, indeed,” said Mr. Muller, “but I don’t see how it
is to be prevented, unless a guard is kept up on the river-bank.”
“Prevented!” cried Chap. “The way to prevent their doing it is to do it
ourselves--slam-bang! without waiting a minute longer than we can help.”
Mr. Muller did not know what reply to make to his enthusiastic
companion.
“Suppose we go and look at this wreck,” he said, after a moment’s
thought.
This suited Chap exactly, and without further ado the two proceeded to
the river-bank. The tide was not very low, and only the extreme ends of
the exposed ribs of the treasure-ship could be seen.
“She is pretty well covered up,” remarked Mr. Muller.
“You can see more of her at low tide,” said Chap, “but we don’t care
anything about that part of the ship. That is the bow, and most likely
there is nothing in it but sailors’ clothes and such stuff.”
“Which would be dreadfully old-fashioned now,” remarked Mr. Muller.
“The part we want to get at,” continued Chap, “is the stern, which is
out there in deep water, and never can be seen at all. The treasure
would, very naturally, be in that part of the ship.”
“Quite likely,” said Mr. Muller, “but it is frightful to think of its
being out there in deep water.”
“Yes,” said Chap, “and, what is more, one side of it must be jammed
against the shore, and pretty well covered up with mud.”
“The channel must come quite near the bank in this part of the river,”
said Mr. Muller.
“Oh, yes,” replied Chap, “a good stone’s-throw from where we stand it
is deep enough to float anything. Down below here, near the place where
the Thomas Wistar was run ashore,--they’ve towed her off now,--it’s
shallow ever so far out, and it’s pretty much the same thing above.”
Mr. Muller looked about the place where he was standing, and seemed to
be considering something.
“Well,” said Chap, impatiently, “what do you say? Are you ready to go
right ahead with this thing? You may think it is none of my business,
but I’ve been pushing on the affair for ever so long, and I want to be
on hand when anything is done.”
“I have no doubt you will be,” said Mr. Muller,--“no doubt of it at
all. But I really cannot counsel immediate action in this matter. A
great many things have to be considered first. I think we had better
let the subject drop for the present.”
“All right!” said Chap. “Drop her!”
And, without another word, he marched off, leaving Mr. Muller standing
on the river-bank.
Disgusted with human beings, especially with the man in the black straw
hat, Chap walked directly home.
“I did think,” he said to himself, “that when I got to work with
a man something would be done; but men are just as pokey and
shilly-shallying as boys. But there is one fellow left yet!” he
continued, giving himself a bold slap on the chest; and, with a stern
and determined mind, the one fellow who was left yet strode rapidly
home.
In the course of a few days Mr. Berkeley made arrangements by which
he procured the money to refund to the three boys the amount they had
received from the owners of the Thomas Wistar. Phil declared he did not
want his share, but his uncle insisted he should take it. It had been
fairly earned by his own exertions, and he must keep it. The sum was
accordingly handed over to Mr. Welford to be invested in Phil’s name.
“What are you going to do with your money?” asked Chap, the first time
he met Phœnix after the distribution.
“We have been talking the matter over a great deal at our house,” said
the stout Phœnix, “and I haven’t made up my mind whether I’ll put my
money into land or into education.”
“The whole of it into one of them?” eagerly asked Chap.
“Yes,” said Phœnix. “Mother wants me to go to college; but father says
if I buy a piece of land down below our place, and get it ditched, and
put into grass, and cleared up, it will be a valuable property by the
time I am married.”
“Married!” cried Chap, in accents of scorn. “Think of a fellow waiting
to get the good of his money till he is married!”
“From what I have heard the folks say,” said Phœnix, “I should think
that would be the best time to get the good of it. But I don’t know
that I’ll put my money into land. I may switch off into a straight-out
education. Mother says that is better than any property. What are you
going to do with yours?”
“Well,” said Chap, “a part of mine is to be put into stocks, along with
Phil’s. That is what they all thought was the best thing to do with it
for the present. But there’s a certain lot of it I’m going to keep for
my own square, particular, and not-to-be-talked-about purposes, and no
questions asked or answered.”
“All right,” said Phœnix, “nobody is asking any.”
The next day Chap made a visit to the city, and spent the whole day
there. He paid his own way. It was vacation time, and no one interfered
with him.
On his return he was asked a good many questions, especially by Helen,
but answered none. For several days he spent a good deal of time away
from home, but he did not go to Hyson Hall, nor did Phœnix see anything
of him.
Mr. Berkeley was not long in making up his mind not to return to his
hut in the woods; but, although his affairs demanded his attention
at home, he determined to continue the study of law, for he was not
too old to achieve success in this profession, and he felt he ought
to devote his life to something for which he was better suited than
scientific farming.
A small room in the third story was fitted up as his study. His books
and papers were taken there, and strict orders were given that during
certain hours in the day he was not to be disturbed on any pretext.
It was much easier to observe these orders than it would have been
before the time in which our story began; for now John Morgan--Jenny’s
father--was regularly installed as farmer and general manager on the
Hyson Hall estate, while Joel was retained as his assistant.
Phil was much pleased with the new arrangement, and listened with great
interest to all the plans which were discussed.
This pleased Mr. Berkeley, for he wanted Phil to like a country life,
and to understand better than he had ever done how to manage with
comfort and profit an estate like Hyson Hall.
It may be here remarked that Emile never came to Boontown to stand
his trial. His father thought it prudent to send him to France on
business, and his bail was forfeited.
The man with the black straw hat had some time since told his business
and gone away. He had come to Hyson Hall to try to induce Mr. Berkeley
to build a town. This seemed like a vast enterprise to suggest to a
private gentleman, but Mr. Muller had studied the subject for a long
time, and had very clear and definite ideas about it.
He was quite ready to prove that it would be an easy thing for Mr.
Berkeley to have a small town on his property, if the work should be
begun in the way which he (Mr. Muller) recommended. It was plain enough
that a town was needed in this locality. The people living along the
river for several miles below had to go to Boontown for their groceries
and other merchandise, and their crops and produce had to be hauled to
that place to be shipped to the city and other points.
Moreover, a little town or village on this beautiful part of the
river-bank would attract people who would like to have a rural home not
too far from the city. Nothing of this kind was offered at Boontown.
That place was not attractive, and its river-front was particularly
disagreeable.
If Mr. Berkeley would lay out his land along the river in building
lots, and buy, perhaps, some adjoining tracts, and then build a wharf,
so that the steamboats could stop there, and put up a store, the thing
would be begun, and the place would then grow of itself. Mr. Muller was
ready to stock and take charge of the store. That was in his line of
business.
Mr. Berkeley listened with great attention to the long discourse of his
visitor, and then remarked that the idea was not a new one, and had
been seriously thought of before.
His father had greatly desired to have a small settlement on his
place, and had gone so far as to put up a wharf, so that people could
come up here by boat and look at the property, and the produce of the
surrounding country could be shipped from this point. But the first
steamboat that stopped there struck on a sunken wreck, that lay not far
from the wharf, and old Mr. Berkeley had to pay for the damages done
to her. Disgusted with this, he had had the wharf taken down, and the
piles pulled up, for fear that some other steamboat would make a stop,
and more damages would have to be paid.
“But could not a wharf be built farther out, or at some other point?”
asked Mr. Muller.
“There is no other point suitable for a steamboat-landing on my
property,” said Mr. Berkeley. “The channel makes a bend inland here,
and above and below the water is shallow for some distance out;
besides it would be very expensive to build a wharf into the deep water
beyond the sunken wreck. It is not the part that you may see sticking
out of the mud that is dangerous,” he continued. “It is another portion
of the vessel which is sunk in the channel, but not far from the bank.
The condition of my fortune does not warrant me in removing this wreck,
which has been there so long that it has probably become a part of the
bank. You see, therefore, that as it is impossible for us to have a
steamboat wharf here at present, it is useless to talk of starting a
town.”
Thus the matter was disposed of, and Mr. Muller discovered that
although he had not had the slightest idea of the fact when he told
Chap the story of the three brothers, the sunken ship had, after all,
very much to do with his business at Hyson Hall.
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