“Well, Jack, this is about the worst yet.”
It was Raynor speaking. He and Jack were sitting on the sandy beach
leaning against the boat. The others were scattered about with
gloomy countenances. Cap’n Toby, utterly prostrated by this sudden
dashing of his hopes, lay face downward on the beach in silence. He
had not spoken a word since his outbreak and Jack feared for his
reason.
“It’s pretty bad. We’ve got no food and no prospect of getting any,
not to mention water. That rat, Terrill! If I ever get my hands on
him and that treacherous Jarrow. They fooled us nicely, getting
everyone who was hostile to them off the schooner.”
“Terrill certainly holds the whip hand over us,” agreed Raynor. “I
suppose that he’ll make us come to some sort of agreement before
he’ll let us have provisions or water.”
“I don’t see what the agreement can be,” rejoined Jack gloomily. “We
can’t come to any concerning the treasure, for that’s on the top of
Cedar Mountain. It’s about as unattainable as the moon. If only we
had that wireless rigged, there’s a bare chance that we might pick
up help.”
“What does it need to repair it?” inquired Raynor.
“That unlucky stick of Pompey’s smashed the silicon of the detector,
but I have noticed traces of what looks like pyron in these rocks,
and if we could get some of that, I believe I could fix the
apparatus up.”
“But in the meantime we starve to death,” objected Raynor.
Jack could not but agree. He looked gloomily out at the empty sea.
Suddenly, there came a joyous shout from round one of the rocky
points that shut in the cove. It was Noddy. The next moment the
Bowery boy appeared. He was burdened down by the weight of three big
cod fish.
“Hurray, fellers, here’s our supper,” he panted as he staggered up
to them with his burden.
“Good for you, Noddy. Well, we shan’t go hungry, at any rate,” cried
Jack, “but how did you get the tackle?”
“Found it in de boat. I went nosin’ aroun’ while youse guys was all
chewing der rag. I found something else in de boat too. A keg of
water and anudder of biscuits, dose big roun’ fellers dey call
sinkers.”
“By hookey, now I come to think of it every boat on the schooner was
stocked with biscuit and water,” cried Jack. “I remember hearing
Uncle Toby talk about it. It’s a maritime law to keep boats
provisioned, but I guess it’s more honored in the breach than in the
observance.”
The spirits of all rose greatly at the prospect of food. Even
Captain Toby sat up and ate his share of broiled codfish and
biscuit. But the old man gazed about him in a vacant way and kept
mumbling to himself, and whimpering like a child over his
misfortunes.
“I’m afraid his mind is affected,” Jack breathed to Raynor. Indeed,
it appeared so.
Supper was over and darkness had set in. But they managed to keep
warmth and light about the camping place by kindling a big fire of
brushwood. They were thinking of turning in and trying to sleep,
although it was bitter cold outside the immediate vicinity of the
fire, and they had no blankets, when there came a sound from seaward
that startled them all.
“Ahoy! Who are you?”
“It’s some of that rascally Jarrow crew up to some trick,” declared
Sherry, “don’t answer them.”
“It doesn’t sound like them,” said Jack hesitatingly.
“Seems to me I know that voice,” said Raynor, “I’ve heard----”
“Ahoy, ashore there.”
The hail came again. This time it was accompanied by the splash of
oars.
“Boat ahoy! What do you want?” hailed Jack, cupping his hands.
“Can we make a safe landing there?”
“Yes, pull for the fire. But who are you?”
“Shipwrecked sailors,” was the reply. Then there came the rapid dip
of oars, and before many minutes a boat pulled into the glare of
light cast by the fire. The boys ran forward as three men staggered
out of the craft, showing signs of exhaustion. At sight of the first
of the newcomers, Raynor uttered a shout of astonishment.
It was Terror Carson. The men with him were O’Brien, the Irish
helmsman and another named Tewson.
“Captain Carson!” exclaimed Raynor. The other started back at the
sound of his name. He stared as if he had beheld an apparition from
the grave.
“Great heavens! it’s young Raynor!” he gasped out.
“Yes, Raynor, whom you left to die on the wreck of the _Polly Ann_,”
said the boy sternly.
“An’ here’s anudder of yer chickens come home ter roost,” exclaimed
Noddy Nipper, stepping up, “you’re a nice one, you are. You look as
if you’d bin havin’ a pretty tough time, an’ you deserve it, too.
“Where are the rest of your crew? In other boats?” asked Raynor.
“Gone, all gone,” moaned Carson weakly. “Lost in a storm which
overwhelmed us. There were ten men in this boat, but they all died
or went mad but myself and these two. We were just about giving up
when we saw the light of this fire and made for it. It’s--it’s like
a judgment upon me.”
He sank down on the bench and covered his face with his hands.
“Have you anything that would bring a dead man to life like a bite
of biscuit or sup of water at all, at all?” asked O’Brien.
“We are almost dead,” said Tewson huskily.
The boys, scoundrel though they knew Carson to be, could not but
furnish him with food and drink. The man’s physique was so superb
that, despite his sufferings in the boat, after his refreshment he
was able to sit up, and talk of his adventures. O’Brien and Tewson,
however, sank into a deep sleep of exhaustion.
“How did you come to this island?” asked Carson at length.
Jack explained and added:
“You see, your rescuers are almost as badly off as you are. The
rascal Terrill----”
“Hold on,” cried Carson, “that name again!”
“Terrill--Rufus Terrill of Terrill & Co.,” said Jack. “Do you know
him?”
“Know him?” repeated Carson bitterly. “He was the cause of all my
misfortunes. He made me what I am, an outlaw and a seal poacher. He
is the biggest rascal unhung.”
“Tell us about it,” urged Jack.
Carson breathed hard as if laboring under some strong emotion.
“So Rufus Terrill is here, here on this island, is he?” he muttered.
“Strange that fate should bring us face to face in this place. I was
an honest man when I met Terrill. I had been a sea captain in the
West India trade. I owned my own ship and had a happy home and a
pretty young wife. Terrill wanted me to do some dishonest work for
him by wrecking a ship that was heavily insured. I refused. Then
came a time when misfortune overwhelmed me. I lost my ship in a
tropical hurricane. I returned home to find my wife had died of a
fever. I was desperate and Terrill found me an easy tool, for I was
half out of my mind.
“Then came discovery of the insurance plot by the underwriters.
Terrill got clever lawyers and they fixed the blame on me. In the
meantime Terrill had given me money to keep out of the country. When
I learned the trick he had played on me I didn’t care what became of
me. I invested what money I had in a seal poaching venture with a
bad character known as Olaf Larsen. Larsen was killed by a chance
shot when a British cruiser chased us. I was captured but escaped,
and then fitted out the _Polly Ann_. I have sailed her ever since,
till--till for my sins she was lost. Oh! if only I could begin over
again, but it is too late, too late.”
“It is never too late to mend,” cited Jack, “perhaps, if ever we
escape from this predicament, I can help you. I would be willing
to.”
“And I, too,” said Raynor, stretching out his hand.
Tears filled Terror Carson’s eyes. His voice shook as he said:
“I heard a preacher feller once talking about coals of fire. Now I
know what he meant.”
Soon after they all turned in. All, that is, but Carson. The last
thing that Jack saw, as he dropped off into slumber, was the giant
form of the seal poacher outlined blackly against the firelight. His
head was sunk on his breast. His brawny arms folded. He stood
motionless as a statue gazing into the embers as if he read his
wild, rough past in the glowing coals.