THE MYSTERY DEEPENS
For a single minute Johnny Thompson remained behind the closed door; then
his fear for his companions drove him forth. Throwing the door wide open,
he made a dash for it. Down the companionway and up the hatch he raced at
full speed.
The Professor was the first person he came across.
“Where’s Pant?” he gasped. “Natives on board—murderous fellows!”
“Where?”
“There!” A black form appeared on deck. “Dodge!” exclaimed Johnny,
setting the example. “They throw knives!”
It seemed, however, that this precaution was unnecessary, for the black
man sprang to the gunwale, then leaped overboard. He was followed rapidly
by two others.
Pant had heard something of the commotion, and now came hurrying around
the corner of a cabin.
“Natives,” explained Johnny. “Bad ones!”
“Better get to the rifles,” breathed Pant. “Can’t tell how many of them.”
He leaped for the rope ladder. In another minute they were rowing rapidly
for the “Dust Eater.” As Johnny climbed to the cabin on the plane he
looked back. “There they go!” he exclaimed.
It was true. A long, slender canoe, manned by four husky native paddlers,
was shooting over the water at an incredible speed. They were striking
boldly out to sea.
“Guess they’re as afraid of us as we are of them,” smiled Johnny.
“Think that’s all of them?” asked Pant.
“Yes, that’s one more than I saw,” answered Johnny.
“We came at a fortunate time,” remarked the Professor. “They doubtless
belong to another island and have discovered the wreck in passing. The
whole tribe will be along presently to loot it.”
“In that case,” said Johnny, “we’d better work fast.”
“And get away before they come,” said Pant. “Good idea. Plenty of coal to
grind up for fuel. Perhaps we can get away before dark.”
After securing the rifles they hastened back to complete their search,
confident that the treasure chests would be in their hands in short
order.
In a cabin formerly occupied by the chief steward, Johnny found a master
key, which expedited their work. With his two companions standing guard,
Johnny was able to unlock one stateroom after another in rapid
succession. One glance in each was enough to satisfy him that the chests
were not to be found there.
When they had made the entire rounds of the main deck, and had discovered
no chests of any sort, their hopes fell a trifle. There remained,
however, the lower deck. To this they hastened. When this search proved
fruitless, they stood for a minute silently looking at one another.
“The hurricane deck!” exclaimed the Professor. “The officer’s cabin!”
Thither they rushed. Here again they were unrewarded.
“What could have happened?” asked the Professor in consternation.
“You don’t suppose he changed his mind and shipped them as cargo, do
you?” asked Johnny.
“I hardly think so,” said the Professor, “yet all things are possible.”
“It’s my opinion that those natives carried them off,” said Pant.
“Didn’t in that canoe,” objected Johnny. “Saw right into it. Wasn’t a
thing. Might have hid them on shore, though. I suggest that we go ashore
and do a little searching, and prepare some sort of meal. There’s food
down in the galleys—canned stuff and the like.”
Leaving the Professor to keep watch, the two boys hurried down below, to
reappear a few minutes later each with a dishpan full of cans, jars and
cartons of food of every description.
“Won’t starve, anyway,” panted Johnny.
“Yes, but whatever we do we’ve got to hurry,” said Pant. “Those natives
will be coming back. Then there’ll be no staying on the island for us.
Natives are all right when there are plenty of white men about to make
them be good, but give them three white men and a shipload of loot and
them about a hundred strong, then see how quickly the white men
disappear.”
Hurriedly they dumped their supplies into the canvas boat, then paddled
rapidly for the shore. They were soon partaking of a hearty meal as they
sat upon the fallen trunk of a giant palm in the shade of a delightfully
cool grove.
Johnny could scarcely finish his meal in his eagerness to explore that
region of the island close to the shore. Before the others had finished
eating, he hastened around the end of the grove and came out upon the
shore close to an out-jutting rocky cliff. At the base of this cliff he
paused in astonishment. Back a little from the beach and against the end
of the cliff was a rude cabin built of drift-wreckage from the ship.
With much hesitation he approached the door of the cabin, which was a
real door taken from the ship. “Some white man; no native built that,” he
murmured as he knocked on the door.
Getting no answer, he knocked again; this time louder. Still no response.
Having turned the knob he was surprised to find that the door was not
locked. Pushing it back, he looked within. Then, quickly closing it, he
raced back to camp.
“Come see what I have found!” he exclaimed. “There must be at least one
survivor of the wreck who did not escape with the ship’s crew. There is a
cabin built of driftwood at the end of the cliff!”
“A cabin! A cabin!” exclaimed the others, as they sprang up and prepared
to follow him.
An inspection of the cabin convinced them that it had been occupied for
some time and had been but recently abandoned, if, indeed, the builder
might not be expected back at any moment. Some garments of an oriental
design hung upon the wall.
“Wonder if he’s a Chinaman?” said Johnny.
There was a well-built bunk on one side of the room, and on the opposite
a wood-burning stove improvised out of empty gasoline cans. There was a
small table, a ship’s chair and a box of dishes, also a handmade set of
shelves well stocked with ship supplies.
As the Professor rummaged about one corner of the room his hand fell upon
an object which immediately absorbed his attention. For a few minutes he
stood staring at it. Then he whispered to himself:
“Could it be possible? If it only were!”
To the boys he said nothing, but Johnny saw an unaccountable new light of
hope in his eyes. “I wonder,” he said, “if this man could have discovered
the chests and brought them ashore for safe keeping?”
“I have been wondering that myself,” said the Professor. “It’s worth
looking into.”
“In the meanwhile, where is he?” asked Pant.
“The natives may have done for him,” suggested Johnny.
A cloud passed over the Professor’s face. “Let us hope not,” he said
quickly. After a moment’s thought, he added: “We must search the island
thoroughly. We must find the chests and that man.”
“Do you know,” he said suddenly, drawing an object from his pocket, “that
is the razor I learned to shave with when a boy? It was my father’s—an
old-styled one, called a ‘pipe razor.’ There was never a better made. I
found it in that shack just now.”
The two boys stared but asked no questions.
A few minutes later, while the Professor was gone for a bucket of water,
the boys held a brief consultation. “It’s all right to search the
island,” said Johnny; “I don’t like the idea of owning up we’re beaten
myself, but how about those natives?”
“It’ll be pretty bad if they once land,” said Pant, “but perhaps we can
prevent them from landing.”
“I don’t see how. We couldn’t attack them before they had done us any
harm.”
“No, we couldn’t, but there may be a way to stop them. Time enough to
think about that once they come in sight.”
“And then there’re those chaps who claim the wreck belongs to them.”
Johnny’s gaze wandered far out to sea, as if he expected to catch sight
of a coil of smoke drifting there. “If they weathered the storm, they’ll
soon be down upon us.”
“Can’t do anything about that, either, until it happens,” said Pant.
“All right then, we’ll take up the search. I fancy the Professor will
want to be one of the searching party. Will you stay with the camp, or
shall I?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Say,” said Pant, a moment later, “it’s funny about that razor he found!”
“Yes, it is. Probably his brother had it on board, and this sailor, or
whoever he is, this survivor, took it off and has been using it.”
“Maybe so,” said Pant in a skeptical tone of voice. “Seamen are very
superstitious about razors belonging to dead men, though.” If he thought
any further along that line, he at least said no more about it at that
time.
Several hours later, just as the two searchers were returning from a long
and fruitless tramp over the island, and were being cheered by the odor
of coffee boiling over an open fire, Pant suddenly pointed to the open
sea.
“There they come!” he cried.
Low on the horizon there appeared three long, low sailing vessels.
“Natives!” said Johnny in dismay.
“That’s what,” agreed Pant; “and what’s more, we’ve got to do something
about it quickly or they’ll be swarming ashore with murder in their eyes.
We’ve got to get to the plane.”
“Will you go along?” asked Pant, pausing to address the Professor.
“I thank you,” said the Professor. “I don’t blame you for seeking safety.
As for myself, I shall stay here until I have succeeded in proving
certain conclusions I have come to, or else have disproved them.”
The boys rushed on down to the beach, then pushing the canvas boat off,
rowed rapidly toward the “Dust Eater.”
“I am afraid,” said Pant, “that our professor friend doesn’t understand
us very well.”
“And I fear I don’t understand this move very well, myself.”
“You will shortly.” They had arrived at the seaplane. “You take the
wheel; I’ll stay in the cabin.”
Though surprised that he should be requested to fly the plane, Johnny
asked no questions, but, taking his place before the wheel, set the
engines in motion and soon found himself gliding out over the sea.
“Sail straight out over them,” ordered Pant through the tube, “then hover
there as best you can. Not too high though.”
Johnny followed instructions and was soon directly above the three large
canoes. He could see the natives plainly. There were twenty or more of
them in a canoe. Great, swarthy fellows they were, dressed in all manner
of apparel, from a full suit of white duck to a mere breech cloth. They
were heavily armed. Johnny was a little startled to note that many of
them carried rifles. The plane was not out of range of a good rifle. The
natives, apparently stupefied at the appearance of this gigantic bird,
were staring upward, making no movement. Even their paddles were idle.
Presently a wisp of smoke rose from one of their canoes.
“That’s strange,” Johnny thought to himself.
The native nearest the spot leaped to one side, and there were frantic
efforts to quench the little fire that had started in the side of the
boat. While this was being accomplished, however, with all the natives
bunched at that end of the boat, a second fire broke out in the other end
of this canoe. This fire gained some headway before it was discovered.
The boat began to leak. The natives flew into a panic. Some of them
leaped overboard and swam toward the other canoes.
When a third blaze appeared in the boat a panic followed. Every native in
the canoe forsook her. Plunging into the sea, they made haste to reach
the remaining boats.
Pant looked down with interest while the burning boat, now in full blaze,
sent flashes of light across the water.
When the last survivor of this strange wreck at sea was aboard the
remaining boats, these crafts turned rightabout. Every oar and paddle was
set doing double time to carry them out of these mysterious and terrible
waters.
“Good thing it happened,” said Pant. “Don’t think we could have trusted
them.”
“Not if the sample of knife-throwing they gave me was any sign,” Johnny
replied. He was greatly relieved.
“Might as well go back now and join the Professor again in his search,”
said Pant. “Hope we can make it snappy, though. That steamer’ll be along
any minute now.”
“I’d like to know where those chests are, and what’s in them,” said
Johnny.
“So would I.”
Slowly the “Dust Eater” settled down upon the waters of the bay. A few
minutes later they were sitting about the fire, making plans for the
night’s watch and the morning’s renewal of the search.
“Clouding up. Looks like storm,” said Pant suddenly.
“Hope it doesn’t bring those black boys back to us,” said Johnny,
wrinkling his brow.
Before Johnny went to sleep he thought in some wonder of one experience
of that day, of the burning of the native canoe. He could not help but
connect that up with other incidents: the white fire in the factory and
the burning of the automobile in the desert. Had Pant been at the bottom
of all these things? If he had been, what strange new power did he
possess?
After that he thought for a time of their own problems. Would they ever
return to the factory to report the complete success of the new steel and
of the dust-burning engines? And would he ever analyze the contents of
that vial in the factory laboratory? Of one thing he was certain, and he
smiled grimly as he thought of it: they were not likely to be bothered by
their ancient enemy, the contortionist, on this desert island.