“Hark!” cried Raynor, as the two boys exchanged glances.
“I have it,” exclaimed Jack the next instant. “That’s only the tolling
of the ship’s bell as the schooner rolls on the sea.”
“My, it gave me a jump though,” admitted Raynor. “Hullo, they are
slowing down. Must be going to board her.”
“Evidently,” agreed Jack, as the _Sea Gypsy’s_ propeller revolved more
and more slowly.
Captain Sparhawk descended from the bridge. The ponderous form of Mr.
Jukes followed him. The millionaire’s face bore a look of strange
excitement.
“Of course that can’t be the schooner,” the boys heard him say to the
captain, “but still I can’t pass it unsearched.”
His eye fell on the boys.
“Lads, we are going to board that schooner and try to find out something
about her,” he said. “Do you want to go along?”
These were the first words the boys had had with their employer in some
days. Of course both jumped at the chance, and before many minutes
passed, one of the yacht’s remaining boats was being sent over the sea
at a fast clip toward the derelict. Close inspection showed the
schooner’s condition not to be as good as it had seemed at a distance.
Her paint was blistered and the oakum calking was spewing out of her
sun-dried seams like Spanish moss on an aged tree. Her sails were
mildewed and torn in many places and her ropes bleached and frayed.
Mingling now with the incessant, melancholy tolling of the bell, came
the monotonous creak of her booms and gaffs as they swung rhythmically
to and fro.
No name appeared on her bow, although blurred tracings of white paint
showed that one had once been inscribed there. But there was a
yellow-painted figurehead; a stern, Roman-nosed bust of a man,
apparently intended for an emperor or a warrior.
“We’ll row round the stern and take a look at her name,” decided Captain
Sparhawk. “We’ll have to climb aboard from the other side anyway. There
is no means of scrambling up from this.”
The boat was turned and rowed under the graceful stern of the derelict.
On it, in bold, raised letters, surrounded by a fanciful design, stood
out, in fading colors, the lost craft’s name.
“_Centurion_, San Francisco,” read out Jack, with an odd thrill. There
was a sudden exclamation from Mr. Jukes, who had not yet been able to
make out more than the first few letters.
“What’s that?” he exclaimed, in a voice so sharp and tense that the boys
turned and stared at him, as did the boat’s crew and Captain Sparhawk.
Jack repeated his answer and, to his astonishment, Mr. Jukes, the
iron-jawed, self-possessed business man, who had never shown signs of
possessing any more emotion than a stone, suddenly sunk his head in his
hands with a groan.
“Too late after all,” they heard him mutter unsteadily. But when he
again raised his face, although it was ashy pale, he appeared to have
mastered himself.
“Well, we’ve reached the end of our journey, Sparhawk,” he remarked in a
voice that he rendered steady by an apparent effort. “Let us go on
board, however, and see if we can find some trace of the unfortunates of
the _Centurion_.”
The captain looked as if he would have liked to ask a great many
questions, but something in Mr. Jukes’ face rendered him silent. He gave
the necessary orders and the boat was pulled round to the other side of
the schooner. Here they were glad to find some dilapidated ropes
dangling which afforded a means of getting on board. Two sailors, after
first testing their weight-bearing qualities, scrambled up them like
monkeys, and, under the captain’s orders, went hunting for a Jacob’s
ladder which would support Mr. Jukes’ ponderous weight. One was found
and lowered, and soon all stood on the silent decks which for so long
had not echoed the footsteps of a human being.
“Away forward and muzzle that bell, some of you,” ordered the captain
briskly. “The sound of the thing gets on my nerves.”
“Send them all forward,” supplemented Mr. Jukes. “Tell them to search
the forecastle, anything to keep them busy. We will examine the cabins
and officers’ quarters.”
“Are we to accompany you, sir?” asked Jack hesitatingly.
For a fraction of a second the millionaire seemed plunged in thought.
Then he arrived at one of his characteristic quick decisions.
“Why not?” he asked, half to himself it seemed. “Later I shall have
something to say to all of you. You have wondered at the object of this
cruise, no doubt?”
Captain Sparhawk nodded gravely.
“I have guessed you had some great end to serve in it, Mr. Jukes,” he
said.
“An end which has now been reached, I fear,” said the millionaire
solemnly. “But come, let us proceed with our examination.”