A MYSTERIOUS INFLUENCE
“One of you boys will have to do the shooting,” said Maurice De Vere,
as he came out on the small forward deck with his rifle. “I’m a pretty
good marksman, but I can’t do anything when I have this broken arm.”
“Let Jerry try,” suggested Ned. “He’s the best shot of us three.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” spoke Jerry modestly, but Mr. De Vere handed him
the rifle.
“We have no time to lose,” he said. “Blowitz may be here at any hour,
and, as he said, possession is nine points of the law. I want to get
aboard.”
Jerry looked to the loading of the weapon, and then, at his suggestion
the motor boat was backed off some yards.
“I want to see to get a good shot, and put the poor things out of their
misery as soon as possible,” he said.
The dogs acted more wild than ever as they saw the motor boat moving
about. They almost leaped overboard, as they raced about the derelict
and finally, they both jumped on the quarter deck, where they stood in
bold relief.
“Now’s your chance, Jerry!” cried Ned.
Jerry took quick aim, steadying himself as best he could against the
motion of the boat. The rifle cracked, and, at the same instant one of
the dogs gave a howl, a convulsive leap, and, a second later was
floundering in the water.
“There’s one of the poor brutes gone,” remarked Mr. De Vere. “Now, once
more, Jerry. I hate to kill the dogs, for they are valuable animals,
but it is a question of their lives or ours, and it would not be safe
to let them live.”
The remaining dog, startled by the rifle shot, and the disappearance of
its companion stood in mute surprise on the quarter deck. He offered a
good shot, and Jerry fired. The dog howled, and began whirling about in
a circle, snapping its jaws.
“You’ve only wounded him!” exclaimed Bob.
Before any one else could speak Jerry had fired the repeater again.
This time the bullet went true, and the dog fell to the deck, gave a
few convulsive struggles, and was still.
“That settles him,” remarked Mr. De Vere.
“Now, boys, we’ll go aboard, and I’ll get what belongs to me. Then
we’ll see if we can tow the ship in.”
The _Ripper_ was once more put alongside the brig, cork buffers were
adjusted to prevent damage being done, and, in a few minutes Jerry had
scrambled up on deck.
“That’s a fierce brute,” he remarked to Bob who followed him, as they
stood looking at the dead dog. “I’m glad I didn’t have to tackle him at
close quarters.”
“Let’s heave him overboard,” suggested Bob, and they did so, though it
took all their strength to drag the body to the rail.
“I guess you’ll have to lower the accommodation ladder for me, boys,”
said Mr. De Vere. “I don’t believe I can scramble up by way of the
chains, as you did.”
“Wait until I get up there and I’ll give you a hand,” called Ned, who
had been left in the motor boat.
“No, you had better stay here and help fasten the ladder when Bob and
Jerry lower it,” answered Mr. De Vere. “I’ll need your aid.”
After some little difficulty, for part of the tackle had fouled, Bob
and Jerry succeeded in lowering over the ship’s side an accommodation
ladder, somewhat like a short flight of steps. It hung above the
_Ripper’s_ deck, and when some ropes had been strung for hand rails,
Mr. De Vere was able to ascend, holding on by one hand, and was soon on
the deck of the brig.
“At last!” he exclaimed. “Here we are! I was afraid we’d never find
her, and, if we did, that Blowitz would be ahead of me. But, thanks to
you, boys, I have beaten him. Now I must see if my papers are safe.”
“Where will you look for them?” asked Jerry.
“They must be somewhere in the captain’s cabin. That is where the gold
will likely be. I suppose we’ll have to hunt for it.”
“Shall we help you?”
“Yes, if you will. Let’s go below. Is the motor boat securely made
fast?”
“I’ll guarantee she’ll not drift away,” declared Ned, as he and his
companions followed Mr. De Vere to the main cabin.
On every side were evidences of a hurried abandonment of the brig. Some
of the sailors had gone off without taking all their clothing, for
garments were scattered here and there. Things were in confusion below
decks, and the captain’s cabin showed signs of having been ransacked.
“There is something queer about this,” said Mr. De Vere as he surveyed
the scene. “The ship is not sinking, and I don’t believe it has leaked
a drop, though at first I thought so. There was no collision, for there
is no sign of damage. Yet there is every indication that captain and
crew deserted the brig in a hurry. Now what made them do that? Why did
not Blowitz give me some reason for that? What caused the abandonment
of the brig?”
“Perhaps the sailors got superstitious, I’ve often read that they do,”
suggested Jerry.
“I hardly think so.”
“Maybe they were afraid of the mad dogs,” said Bob.
“I don’t believe the dogs went mad until after the sailors left,” was
Mr. De Vere’s answer. “No, there is some strange secret connected with
the brig, and I’d like to solve it. But I must first find my papers and
the gold.”
“Suppose the captain took them with him?” remarked Ned.
“He did not know about them. That is he did not know of what the
valuables consisted. The gold and papers were put in a safe, and only
Blowitz and myself had the combination. The safe was placed in the
captain’s cabin, and he was instructed to deliver it, unopened, to a
certain man. When they deserted the ship in such a hurry I do not
believe they took the safe with them. It must be somewhere on board.
We’ll search for it.”
The cabin was rather large, and contained a number of lockers and other
places that might serve as a hiding place for the safe. The boys and
Mr. De Vere made a careful hunt. While they were in the midst of it a
sudden noise startled them.
“What was that?” asked Bob.
“The cabin door slid shut,” answered Jerry, who had seen what happened.
“I’ll open it.”
“Here’s the safe!” suddenly called Mr. De Vere, as he opened a small
locker, in an out-of-the-way corner. “Help me get it out, boys, and
we’ll open it.”
The closed door was forgotten, and the three lads, at their employer’s
suggestion, fastened a rope about the safe and pulled it out. It rolled
on small wheels.
“Sorry I can’t help you much,” spoke Mr. De Vere, “but this arm of mine
prevents me.”
“Oh, we can manage it all right,” declared Jerry, and after a while,
they succeeded in wheeling the safe out into the middle of the cabin.
“There is some other stuff in the locker,” announced Bob, as he peered
within. “It looks like those small boxes Mr. Blowitz shipped from
Cresville.”
“That’s what they are,” added Jerry, taking a look. “Now we have a
chance to see what is in them.”
“Wait until we get the safe open,” advised Mr. De Vere. “Then we’ll see
if we can’t get at the secret of the ship.”
He sat down in front of the strong steel box, and began to turn the
combination. It was quite complicated, and took some time.
“Um-m-m-m-m!” exclaimed Bob, with a lazy stretch. “I’m beginning to
feel sleepy. Guess I’ll lie down on this couch and rest.”
He did so, and, somewhat to his companions’ surprise, was soon
apparently asleep.
“He must be pretty well played out,” remarked Ned. “Funny, but I feel a
little drowsy myself. We haven’t been getting any too much sleep, of
late, I suppose.”
Mr. De Vere was working away at the combination of the safe. Something
seemed to have gone wrong with it, and he twirled the knobs and dials,
first this way and that.
“What a curious ringing sound they make,” Jerry was thinking, as he sat
in a chair and looked on. “It’s just like bells away off somewhere. I
wonder if it’s my ears? I feel as if I had taken quinine for a cold.
There seems to be some sort of a haze in the cabin. I wonder—”
But Jerry never knew what he wondered, for the same mysterious
influence that had overpowered Bob had made Jerry succumb. His head
fell forward on his breast, and he was unconscious.
Ned began to imagine he was in a boiler factory, of which Mr. De Vere
was the foreman. The latter seemed to be hammering on a big steel safe,
and soon, in Ned’s ears there echoed the noise of the blows. Then the
boy’s eyes closed, and he joined Bob and Jerry in falling under the
mysterious spell.
Seated on the floor in front of the safe Mr. De Vere wondered what made
his fingers move so slowly. With his one good hand he could scarcely
turn the dials of the combination. His head, too, felt very heavy, and
once there was such a mist before his eyes that he could not see the
figures on the shining disk of the safe.
“This is queer,” he murmured. “It is very close in this cabin. I wish
the boys had opened the door. I wish—I—”
Mr. De Vere fell over backward, unconscious, while, around the silent
forms in the cabin wreathed a thin bluish vapor that came from the
locker where the safe had been, and where there were some small
boxes—the same mysterious boxes that Blowitz had shipped from
Cresville.
In the tightly-closed cabin the derelict hunters were now at the mercy
of the mysterious influence—an influence they could not see or guard
against, and from which they were in deadly peril.