THE MYSTERIOUS JAR
Dave Fearless had saved the day. The young ocean diver knew this the
moment he glanced at the faces of those about him.
The wretch Tompkins shrank and cowered in a guilty manner. The
squeamish crew looked relieved. The governor's physician and his
military companion affected a profound astonishment, but secretly were
overwhelmed with confusion and chagrin.
Captain Broadbeam's eyes opened wide in amazement at the first. Then as
he guessed it out that a plot against him had been attempted they blazed
with wrath.
"Put that man in irons," he roared out.
"Pardon, captain," interrupted Silverado, stepping forward, "we will do
that. There is some grave mistake here."
"Mistake?" shouted Broadbeam. "Villainy, a conspiracy. Why----"
"The governor will investigate this matter thoroughly," said Silverado.
Dave had glided to the captain's side. In a quick undertone he advised
him to smother his wrath for policy's sake. They allowed their visitors
to hustle Tompkins into their boat. To the last Silverado wore a suave
mask of forced politeness.
"You vile scum," broke out Broadbeam, shaking his fist after the
departing yawl. "It's hard to keep the bit between my teeth and say
nothing when I know that all hands from the governor down are in this
dirty plot."
The old salt bestowed an approving look on Dave and hustled to the
forecastle, calling the crew around him.
"Dave, how did you ever come to think of it?" marveled Bob Vilett.
"Why, it was simple--putting two and two together. I remembered the
pilot's talk about paint," replied Dave. "Hear that! Captain Broadbeam
is on his mettle."
Both boys listened to the sonorous voice of the commander of the
_Swallow_. He was greatly aroused. They heard him give orders to have
the entire armament of the _Swallow_ put in active commission. A stand
of rifles was to be set ready for use. To Mr. Drake was delegated the
task of furbishing up two old brass ten-pounders from the hold.
"We sail to-morrow," announced the captain. "Look out for tricks
to-night. These villains won't let us go without meddling further if
they can help it. My men, I ask you all to stand by me if there's a
scrimmage, and there will be one if those fellows try to block my way."
Dave came in for a good deal of attention from the captain, Doctor
Barrell, and his father, when affairs had quieted down somewhat. They
all realized that his good memory and shrewd forethought had saved them
a vexatious delay and no end of further trouble from the treacherous
governor and his cohorts.
"I will be glad when we get clear of the island to-morrow," said Dave,
as Bob turned in for the night.
It had been a busy, exciting day, and Dave was glad to have a few
moments to himself to think over affairs in general.
He stretched himself on a heap of canvas in the shadow of the rear
cabin, overlooking the creek and the beautiful moonlit expanse
stretching out beyond it.
Dave mused, dozed, woke up, and stretched himself. He heard the
night-watch laughing and talking in low tones amidships.
"I'll join them, listen to one or two of their wild yarns, and then turn
in for the night myself," he decided.
Half-arising, however, Dave came to a rigid pose. He stared hard beyond
the rail and down into the still waters of the creek.
Everything was so calm and still that the least sound or movement was
vividly distinct to ear and eye.
Dave's eye had detected a ripple in the quiet waters. Then momentarily
a human head had protruded into view.
It bobbed down under water again. It came up ten feet nearer to the
_Swallow_. It disappeared once more, and this seemed to carry it past
the watcher's direct range of vision.
"Someone, and up to something," declared Dave to himself. "Hark, now."
He bent his ear keenly. A soft drip-drip sounded just beyond the rail.
Then a black hand glistening with water clutched the rail itself.
Slowly, cautiously the body of a dusky native, attired only in swimming
garb, came into view. This was the person Dave had detected swimming
under water.
Straddling the rail, the intruder crouched, looking all about the deck.
Then he lifted both feet over onto the planking.
Dave now noticed that the man carried under one arm quite a bulky
package done up in black oilskin.
The intruder glanced sharply at the forecastle. Just abutting it was a
box-like section into which all kinds of odds and ends of canvas and
ropes were bundled. Its door was half-ajar. Dave saw the stranger
glide to this, thrust his package inside, glide back to the rail, slip
over it, and drop into the water.
A minute later the ripples in the creek showed where the fellow was
making his retreat under water. His head came up to the surface once or
twice. Then he arose at a distance down the stream and disappeared
among the dense shrubbery lining the creek.
"More mischief," instantly decided Dave Fearless.
Dave made a rush for the forecastle cubby hole. He pulled its door wide
open and groped about. His fingers closed about a dripping object
there.
"Hard and heavy," said Dave. "Wrapped in the oilskin to protect it.
What can it be?"
Dave arose to his feet. Suddenly a thrill passed through his frame.
"Put here for a purpose," he thought. "Can it be an explosive!"
Internally Dave became immensely excited. Coolly, however, though
carrying the dubious object as though it were an egg, he proceeded to
the ship's rail nearest the shore.
Dave set the object gently on the rail, climbed over, took it up again,
and, holding it above his head in one hand, dropped into the water.
The splash, slight as it was, aroused the watch. Two men came hurrying
to the rail.
"Hold on, there," challenged one of them.
"It's only me--Dave Fearless," came the retort promptly, "cooling off--a
little swim, that's all."
"You pick a fine time for it."
Dave laughed. He liked water, and swam with one hand, came ashore, and
went past its fringe of brush to a clearing.
"Now then," said Dave, with a great sigh of relief, at a safe distance
from the ship, "burst, if you want to!"
Dave had set the object he carried down on the ground. He stepped back
a few feet and surveyed it suspiciously.
"A bomb?" he questioned himself. "How am I going to find out? Perhaps
it's some infernal machine loaded with phosphorus. Then those villains
intended to burn the _Swallow_. Certainly this means some black
mischief."
Dave roamed about till he found a stout long reed. Then he began to
poke at the object he had brought from the ship. He finally managed to
remove its oilskin covering.
"It's a jar, a stone jar," he said, "queer and foreign-looking, like we
get snuff or preserved ginger in. Labeled, too, and seals across the
top. It don't look very dangerous, for all the sinister way it came
aboard."
Dave did not belie his name. He dallied with the situation no longer
and now took up the jar fearlessly.
Its label resembled the covering used on a package of firecrackers. The
seal was of tin-foil stamped with similar characters in red.
"Chinese, that's sure," thought Dave. "Shall I risk it?" he questioned
himself, his fingers surrounding the jar cover.
Dave snapped the seal and removed the cover. A layer of tissue paper
showed. He pulled this out. A dense stench was emitted by the jar. He
poked his finger down into the contents. They were solid and sticky.
"Why," said Dave, a good deal puzzled, sniffing vigorously, "it's
opium."