“Incredible!” exclaimed Captain Sparhawk, unable to think of anything
else to say at the astounding information.
“But, nevertheless, true. Sparhawk, this message confirms the truth of
your theory about ‘Bully’ Broom. That rascal attacked and overcame the
unsuspecting crew of the _Centurion_, and obtained the 'Tear of the
Sea’.”
“The infernal scoundrel,” breathed Captain Sparhawk. “There is not
another man in the South Seas who would have dared such a coup. But does
the message give any clue to your brother’s fate, sir?” he added
respectfully.
The millionaire’s face glowed and suddenly lost its careworn look.
“That’s the best part of it,” he explained. “But come to my cabin,
captain—yes, Ready, you and Raynor may come, too,” he added as he
intercepted anxious looks on the boys’ faces.
Inside the cabin the millionaire spread on the table the yellowed,
scribbled bit of paper that just then meant more to him than any
document he had ever seen in his life.
“I’ll read aloud,” he said, and then, in a clear voice, he recited the
contents of the missive.
“Any one finding this please notify my brother Jacob Jukes of
New York, who will reward him lavishly for the trouble. This is
being written on board ‘Bully’ Broom’s schooner, _South Sea
Lass_. We are all prisoners and the 'Tear of the Sea’ is in the
ruffian’s possession. We are being taken, as I overheard, to
Bomobori, in New Guinea, with what object I cannot say. May
Heaven help us in our desperate strait. I am throwing this, with
a prayer to Heaven that it may be found, from the window of the
cabin in which I am confined.
Jerushah Jukes.”
“I know Bomobori well,” exclaimed Captain Sparhawk, as Mr. Jukes
finished reading. “I was there in '87 and again in '89.”
“What sort of a place is it?” inquired Mr. Jukes.
“Not much of a town,” was the reply. “It is at the mouth of a river that
penetrates a wild country. If ‘Bully’ Broom wished to hide his captives,
he could not have taken them to a better place.”
“Sparhawk,” and the millionaire’s voice was vibrant with determination,
“how long will it take us to get there?”
“I should say not more than a week. But we should have to re-coal at
Tahiti if we are to make the run at top speed. How about that, Raynor?”
“You’re right, captain,” said the young engineer. “I’ll guarantee to run
the _Sea Gypsy’s_ engines faster than they were ever run before, but
I’ve got to have the coal to do it with.”
“That steamer is through coaling us now?” asked the millionaire, after
he had made a few calculations on a scrap of paper.
“They emptied the last of their load an hour ago,” said Captain
Sparhawk.
“Good,” was Mr. Jukes’ response. “Send the captain to me and I will give
him my check. Raynor, how soon can you have steam up?”
“In an hour, sir,” responded the young engineer.
“Splendid; make all the time you can. Every moment is valuable now.
Ready——”
Jack was all attention. Into the millionaire’s manner had come a snap
and a grip of affairs that had not been there since they had sailed. He
had something tangible to go upon now, and was plainly prepared to make
the most of it.
“Ready,” he went on, “I want you to raise Tahiti at once. Order coal to
be ready for us when we arrive and have a force of men engaged to hustle
it on board without loss of time.”
“Yes, sir,” rejoined Jack, hurrying from the cabin.
Within a few minutes the entire atmosphere of the ship appeared to be
charged with electricity and bustle. Black smoke volleyed from the stack
and the roar of escaping steam soon came from the relief pipe. Anai and
his companion, almost in tears at the thought of parting with the boys,
were sent ashore, and final preparations made for the start.
Shortly before sun-down Raynor reported all ready in the engine room.
“Very well, captain,” said Mr. Jukes, “you may get up your anchor.”
The necessary orders were soon given and as the chains rattled home
through the exhaust pipes the yacht swung her bow gracefully seaward. A
big crowd of canoes and the small tramp, which had also taken up anchor,
accompanied her some distance out to sea.
The natives raised their voices in melancholy songs as they paddled, and
from time to time cried out:
“Come back, white men.”
Among them Jack and Raynor recognized Anai and the other young Kanaka.
Both lads felt a genuine regret at leaving the brave, likeable young
natives, but ahead of them they felt lay experiences which for the time
being put all other emotions out of their minds. The _Sea Gypsy_,
rushing ahead at top speed, soon left the rusty tramp, her consort, far
behind. By dark only the summit of the island was visible on the
horizon. It sank quickly from sight, and when the first stars appeared
the _Sea Gypsy_ was alone on the sea.