THE WOODED ISLAND
Captain Broadbeam gave pretty strict orders at dusk. A watch was set
with directions to allow no one to leave the _Swallow_. All the small
boats were chained stoutly.
"We'll have to defer going ashore, or report our plans to the captain,"
said Bob Vilett about eight o'clock, coming up on deck with a wry face.
He was in overalls and his hands covered with oil. "No go, Dave," he
reported.
"You mean you can't join me?" asked Dave, in disappointment.
"That's it, Dave. There's work till twelve. I've got to stay. Say, why
don't you tell the captain your idea and have him send men and a boat
after Schmitt-Schmitt?"
"No," said Dave, "Captain Broadbeam wouldn't entertain the project for a
moment. He is a first-class captain, but hint at anything outside of his
ship, and he won't take the risk."
"What are you going to do, then?"
"Try it alone."
"Be careful, Dave. Don't undertake too much. You can never manage
Schmitt-Schmitt alone. Why don't you impress Stoodles into service?"
"Mr. Stoodles is willing enough," answered Dave, "but he might bungle.
It will be all I can do to get off the _Swallow_ alone."
Dave managed this, however, a little later, without discovery. Once on
the sand flat, he dragged some planks and ropes the ballast crew had
left there to the other side of the island. Dave constructed quite a
raft and pushed it into the water. Swimming, he propelled it before
him. Within half an hour he was on the wooded island.
The first thing that caught his eye was a blue light strung from a tree
at the end of the island nearer the town. Here there was a favorable
natural landing-place.
"The bunting signal didn't attract attention," reasoned Dave, "so
Schmitt-Schmitt has tried the lantern. Wonder if he is at the hut? I'll
work my way around that direction and find out."
Dave had the bold idea in mind of capturing this man. As he went along
he thought of plan after plan. If he could get Schmitt-Schmitt helpless
in his power, he could convey him to the _Swallow_ on the raft.
"The very thing," said Dave gladly, as he neared the vicinity of the
hut. Lying across the top of some bushes was a fishing net. It had
long rope ends. Dave with his pocket knife cut these off and thrust
them in his pocket.
"Hey, what are you up to there?"
Dave thrilled at the sharp call, and turned quickly to face his
challenger.
It was Schmitt-Schmitt. He had abruptly emerged from the greenery
surrounding the hut. He carried a big cudgel, and as the clear
moonlight revealed the face of the intruder plainly he uttered a quick
gasp.
"Ha, I know you!" cried Schmitt-Schmitt, advancing with a scowling face.
"It seems so," answered Dave coolly, cautiously retreating. "You are
Mr. Gerstein."
"No, you don't!" spoke the man, with a speedy leap forward.
Dave dodged, but not soon enough. The cudgel came down directly on top
of his head. He saw stars, sank flat, and knew no more for fully five
minutes.
Then, his lower limbs wound round and round with ropes, he struggled
upon the floor of a hut.
At a table on which burned a candle sat Schmitt-Schmitt. He had just
opened a bottle of lime juice and was about to pour some of its contents
into a glass to refresh himself.
He suspended operations, however, as Dave struggled to an upright
position, attracting his attention.
"Well," he spoke with a coarse chuckle, "how did that wallop suit you?"
Dave rubbed his sore head and made a wry grimace.
"You don't treat visitors very politely, do you?" he said.
"You're a spy, you are," spoke Gerstein sullenly, "and don't you deny
it. I know you. Now then, what brought you here?"
"What brought you?" retorted Dave.
"Don't you get saucy," warned Schmitt-Schmitt. "All along you did the
big things that were done in baffling the Hankers. I hear, too, you
have been pretty smart with your tricks since you came to Minotaur
Island."
"Of course I've been trying to do all I could to protect my rights,"
said Dave. "I knew you were in hiding here."
"Ha! eh?" exclaimed Schmitt-Schmitt, pricking up his ears. "How did you
know that?"
"Oh, we have kept track of you," answered Dave lightly. "As soon as we
found you were back of the governor and the pilot in bothering us, we
naturally watched you."
Schmitt-Schmitt stared in stupefaction at Dave.
"Knew it, did you?" he muttered.
"Of course we did. We knew what you were up to. Now I can tell you,
Mr. Gerstein, you will never get that treasure away from the
Windjammers' Island, no matter how hard you try."
"Treasure! The Windjammers' Island!" gasped the man.
"How--when--where--the--the treasure was lost at sea."
"Not a bit of it, as you and I both know," asserted Dave blithely,
reading in the confusion and excitement of the man a confirmation of his
suspicions. "I say the _Swallow_, with or without me, sails in search
of that treasure at daylight. Come, sir, you have gone in with a measly
crowd who will only rob you in the end. Come to Captain Broadbeam, save
us the trouble of a long search, and my father will pay you all right."
Schmitt-Schmitt got up and paced the floor. He seemed thinking over what
Dave had suggested. His face, however, gradually resumed its customary
ferocity and cunning.
"No," he said finally, striking the table with his fist and taking in
his captive's helpless situation with a good deal of satisfaction. "I
have the upper hand. I keep it."
"What upper hand?" asked Dave.
"You are my prisoner. Soon the pilot will be here in response to my
signal with his launch. I will take you to the island with me. I will
hide you. They will not get along so grandly without you. They will
delay to search for you, and delay is all I ask. Yes, yes, that is the
programme."
Some whistles from craft in the bay echoed out. Schmitt-Schmitt went
outside, apparently to see if some answer was coming to his signal.
"I am in it--deep," mused Dave. "Pshaw! I hate to think I shall delay
and bother Captain Broadbeam."
Dave found that the ropes securing him were not very tightly arranged.
They had been drawn to a loop about his waist and caught with snap and
hook behind.
"If I had time I could work loose," he thought. "I have not time, so I
suppose I must wait meekly and take what comes to me. Oh, by the
way--that's an idea!"
The "idea" in question was suggested by a glance at the bottle and glass
on the table. Dave's eyes sparkled. He fumbled under the ropes and
brought out wrapped up in a fragment of paper the sample of opium he had
discovered the night previous.
Frog-like he began hitching himself across the floor. Dave kept his eye
anxiously fixed on the open doorway. He got to the table, reached up,
dropped some grains of the drug into the glass there, and nimbly as he
could hitched his way back to his former position.
Two minutes later Schmitt-Schmitt reappeared. He went at once to the
table, poured out a drink, settled back in his chair, and said
complacently:
"My friend will soon be here. Do your friends also know I am here?"
"Oh, dear, you mustn't expect me to tell any secrets to a fellow who
won't join in with us," said Dave.
"Maybe after a little solitude you will be willing to talk," observed
Schmitt-Schmitt meaningly.
"All right--we'll see," said Dave, with affected unconcern.
Dave's eyes sparkled as Schmitt-Schmitt began to blink. He was
delighted as the man fell back drowsily in the chair.
"Now's my chance," said Dave, as a prolonged snore announced the
complete subjugation of Schmitt-Schmitt to the influence of the drug.
Dave did some brisk moving about. He managed to get to a cupboard. He
could not reach his own pocket knife. In the cupboard he found a case
knife and set at work sawing away the ropes that bound him.
He laughed at his rare success, as stretching his cramped limbs he went
outside for a moment.
"I don't want to delay," he thought. "That signal may bring the pilot
at any moment, and that means two to handle instead of one. This is just
famous. Better than I planned out. How shall I get Schmitt-Schmitt to
the raft?"
Dave found an old wicker mattress on the rude porch of the hut. It had
rope ends to attach as a hammock. He took the precaution to tie
Schmitt-Schmitt's wrists and ankles together with ropes.
Then Dave dragged the insensible man from his chair across the floor and
let him down flat on the wicker mattress.
It required all his strength to pull this drag and its burden the two
hundred feet required down the beach.
"The mischief!" cried Dave, as, panting, he reached the spot where he
had left the rudely improvised raft.
It was nowhere in sight, and he readily surmised that he had carelessly
left it too near the surf, which had carried it away.
"Whatever am I to do now?" thought Dave. "I can't swim to the _Swallow_
with this man. I must find the material for a new raft. Pshaw! there's a
call to time."
Dave glanced keenly seawards. Then with due haste he dragged mattress
and burden back into the brush out of sight.
Peering thence, he watched a little launch making for the wooded island
at the point where the blue signal shone.
"The pilot, of course," said Dave. "He has come to see his friend.
What will he do when he fails to find him?"
With some anxiety Dave Fearless watched the little launch come nearer
and nearer to the wooded island.