THE GREAT SECRET
So eager was Alec to return to his investigations that he slipped back
to the oyster-beds that very night, so as to be on hand at the earliest
possible moment next day. His mind was afire, his whole being was keyed
up. He was like a hound on a hot scent. He felt that he had his quarry
almost within his reach. He wanted to press on at top speed until he
grasped the prize. Neither storm nor calm, neither tide nor sickness,
could long have delayed him; for Alec possessed that unusual quality of
mind which made him rise superior to obstacles, once his interest was
thoroughly aroused. Things that to some boys would have appeared as
effective obstacles became to Alec, when he was thus aroused, only
difficulties to be overcome. One by one he had surmounted all the
barriers that he had so far encountered. Each victory made him only the
keener to win another. Of all his struggles, the effort to learn the
truth about the oyster had interested him most deeply, because he knew
that exact knowledge along that line was the very corner-stone of his
success, or, more accurately, of the success he was striving to build.
So daylight found Alec astir and already on his way to Captain Hardy's
oyster-bed. For the facts that Alec and Elsa had discovered concerning
Hardy's bed and the existence of the depression in the bottom of the
Bay, had given Alec an idea that he could hardly wait to test out. He
meant to find the entire truth about the little channel. He doubted if
any one else had discovered the little trough or furrow in the bottom of
the Bay, and if they had, he doubted whether its significance had
occurred to the discoverers.
Now he proceeded to the upper end of Hardy's bed, and, dropping his
lead, found exactly where the edge of the furrow lay. He noted its
position with relation to the corner stakes of the grounds. Then he
proceeded slowly down-stream, sounding as he went, to try to locate the
inner edge of the ditch. For several hundred feet he felt his way along.
Then he took a heavy weight, tied to it a line of the proper length, and
to that he fastened a stick a few feet long, to the upper end of which
he tied a white cloth. He lowered the weight to the bottom, dropping it,
as nearly as he was able, on the very edge of the furrow or ditch in the
mud. Then he adjusted his line so that the stick floated
perpendicularly, holding the white cloth aloft, a foot or two above the
surface of the water. Then he dropped the _Osprey_ down-stream some
hundreds of feet, and once more locating the edge of the depression in
the bottom, made and anchored a second floating marker. Examination
showed him that the three points he had located--the one near Hardy's
stakes and the two he had marked with flags,--were practically in a
straight line. Once more he headed the _Osprey_ down-stream, proceeding
as far as he could go and still see his markers. Then he sounded, and
found that he was still over the very edge of the depression. Apparently
this depression ran in an almost perfectly straight line. Alec put down
another flag. He now had marked the depression for a good many hundred
yards.
Now he went back to his starting-point and began to study the current
and the appearance of the water. The depression extended in exactly the
same direction that the tide followed, so that the water would sweep
straight through it, back and forth, back and forth ceaselessly,
scouring it clean. Alec recalled what Roy had written him about the
jetties at Galveston, and how the tide, sweeping in and out between
them, had deepened the channel. To be sure, there were no jetties here
to confine the flow of the tide to the depression, yet Alec felt sure
that the current would keep the depression clean and perhaps even deepen
it. For all time, at least for all calculable time, so far as he could
see, the depression would remain in the bottom and create a vast slick
along its side. In this slick he believed the oyster fry would be most
numerous.
Slowly Alec proceeded along the edge of the slick, passing one after
another the markers he had set up, and lifting them as he came to them.
The edge of the slick, of course, followed the line of the depression
in the bottom. Alec knew it ought to do so, and the white flags proved
that it did. On and on went Alec, studying the current, watching every
wave and swirl in the tide. At the same time, he kept before him the map
of the oyster-beds, marking down on the map as accurately as possible
the edge of the slick. How far to the side this slick extended Alec did
not know. He could determine that later. What he did know--at least he
felt sure he knew it--was that every oyster-bed lying in this slick was
a prime oyster ground. He would know for sure when he had made larvæ
tests of water from the different beds.
For two or three miles Alec proceeded. The slick was still plainly
discernible, and whenever Alec took soundings he found that the
depression continued. At last he came to the point for which he was
heading--the last lot of ground that had been staked. Beyond that was a
vast area that any man might claim. So eager to see what he should find,
so fearful and yet so hopeful was Alec, that he almost held his breath
as he bent forward and peered out over the unstaked water. Would the
slick continue through the unleased areas or would it not?
"It does! It does!" cried Alec aloud, as he sailed past the very last
oyster stake. As far as he could see, the water before him was sharply
divided into two areas--one that rippled roughly as the tide swept
onward, the other as smooth as though it had been rubbed with grease.
Into this smooth stretch of water Alec turned the _Osprey_. Then, his
hands atremble with eagerness, he brought forth his testing apparatus
and began to strain water from the bottom through his filter net. Here,
there, over yonder, Alec pumped up water, until he had samples from a
large acreage. His settling bottles were numbered, and on his chart he
marked the location from which each sample came. At the same time he
took soundings and tested the water for density and temperature. All
these things he likewise set down on his chart. So eager was he to begin
his count, that he could scarcely wait to stow away his instruments when
he had done straining water. But when he started to use his microscope,
he found that the wind had freshened so much he could not work well. It
was blowing directly against the current, throwing up sizable rollers,
and the _Osprey_ was too unsteady for the trying work in hand. There was
nothing to do but get to smooth water, and that meant to leave the Bay,
for now whitecaps were breaking everywhere.
At first Alec hardly knew where to go. He thought of running into the
mouth of the river. But that idea did not please him because passing
boatmen might annoy him or at least interrupt him. And anyway, Alec
preferred to carry on his investigations without others knowing about
them. He had learned pretty well the fact that not everybody was to be
trusted. Alec also thought of going to the point of land where he and
Elsa had eaten their dinner. That did not seem altogether suitable,
either. Finally he decided to head for the _Osprey's_ Nest. If no one
was in sight when he got there, he would go in. If any one were by to
watch him, he would pull into some neighboring inlet. As fast as his
engine would take him, Alec drove through the waves. When he reached the
shore just off the _Osprey's_ Nest, not a boat of any sort was in sight.
He shut off his power, pushed his little craft up the secret channel,
and soon lay at anchor in his snug retreat. The shade was grateful and
the _Osprey_ was as steady as a rock. He could work in comfort and in
perfect security.
Hour after hour Alec stuck to his job. At times his eyes ached so from
the strain that he had to leave his microscope and bathe them in the
salt sea water that he dipped up with a bucket. At noon he paused long
enough to cook himself a warm meal and flash a greeting to Elsa. Then he
went on with his work. As long as he could hold himself to his task he
continued to count. Bottle after bottle he emptied, picking out one by
one with his little needle thousands upon thousands of oyster larvæ.
Again and again, as the day wore on, he laid down his implements,
meaning to quit. And as often he picked them up after an interval, to do
just a little bit more. There were limits to his endurance. His eyes
would function only so long. But his soul was indomitable. So he kept on
and on and on, until dusk found him with his task completed. When he
talked to Elsa that night he was able to tell her that he had found the
great secret. At least he believed he had. He had discovered an
unstaked area that he believed to be as good a place for oysters as any
ground in the Bay.
Long after he turned away from his wireless, Alec sat on the deck of the
_Osprey_. By every rule of the game he should have been asleep in his
bunk. Physically he was worn out by the strain of his intense
concentration. But mentally he was afire. The task that had tired his
body had stimulated his brain to unusual activity. His vision was almost
prophetic. He pictured the future as he wished it to be. And though his
mental image was not an exact representation of life as it proved to be,
it was a marvelous approximation. Nor was that strange. For Alec was
learning that the more sharply he defined his ambitions, and the more
exactly he pictured his path, the more likely he was to see his dreams
become realities. He needed a map for his life, just as truly as he
needed a chart for his oyster-beds.
Now, as he sat, silent, in the _Osprey_, his mind aglow with rosy
pictures, the difficulties that once had seemed so insurmountable shrank
and shrank until they appeared but mole-hills. Though he did not put it
in so many words, Alec was coming to realize that a big accomplishment
is only a great dream backed by prodigious labor. Labor is the thing it
is made of, but without the inspiration of the dream the labor is
impossible. So he let himself dream on and on in the darkness, resting
on some soft cushions, listening to the gentle sigh of the wind as it
stirred the leaves above his head, dimly conscious of the stirrings of
birds, the faint splashings of muskrats in the marsh above him, the
quavering call of a distant owl. Overhead the stars twinkled. Light
patches of cloud floated in the sky. The waters of the Bay washed the
shores gently but audibly. The world was in repose. And at last Alec
slept with it.