hastily, we went out on deck. Across the dancing waves, which seemed to
throw a mocking challenge to the treasure-seekers to find what they
covered, we could see the trawler. Already a small power-boat had put
out from her and was plowing along toward us.
It was as the boat came alongside us that we met Gage for the first
time. He was a tall, clean-cut fellow, but even at a glance I
recognized that his was an unusual type. I fancied that both proctors
and professors had worried over him when he was in college.
Particularly I tried to discover how he acted when he met Norma. It was
easy to see that he was very eager to greet her, but I fancied that
there was some restraint on her part. Perhaps she felt that we were
watching and was on her guard.
Dominick greeted Everson warmly. He was a man of about thirty-five and
impressed one as having seen a great deal of the world. His position as
purser had brought him into intimate contact with many people, and he
seemed to have absorbed much from them. I could imagine that, like many
people who had knocked about a great deal, he might prove a very
fascinating person to know.
Kinsale, on the other hand, was a rather silent fellow and therefore
baffling. In his own profession of deep-sea diving he was an expert,
but beyond that I do not think he had much except an ambition to get
ahead, which might be praiseworthy or not, according as he pursued it.
I fancied that next to Everson himself, Norma placed more confidence in
Dominick than in any of the others, which seemed to be quite natural,
though it noticeably piqued Gage. On the part of all three, Gage,
Dominick, and Kinsale, it was apparent that they were overjoyed at the
return of Norma, which also was quite natural, for even a treasure-hunt
has hours of tedium and there could be nothing tedious when she was
about. Asta was undoubtedly the more fascinating, but she was wrapped
up in Everson. It was not long before Kennedy and I also fell under the
spell of Norma's presence and personality.
We hurried through breakfast and lost no time in accepting Everson's
invitation to join him, with the rest, in the little power-boat on a
visit to the trawler.
It was Dominick who took upon himself the task of explaining to us the
mysteries of treasure-hunting as we saw them. "You see," he remarked,
pointing out to us what looked almost like a strangely developed suit
of armor, "we have the most recent deep-sea diving-outfit which will
enable us to go from two hundred to three hundred feet down--farther,
and establish a record if we had to do it. It won't be necessary,
though. The Antilles lies in about two hundred and fifty feet of water,
we have found. This armor has to be strong, for, with the air pressure
inside, it must resist a pressure of nearly half a pound per square
inch for each foot we go--to be exact, something like a hundred and
five pounds per square inch at the depth of the wreck. Perhaps if
Traynor had been diving we might have thought that that was the
trouble."
It was the first reference since we arrived to the tragedy. "He had
only had the suit on once," went on Dominick, confirming Everson, "and
that was merely to test the pumps and valves and joints. Even Kinsale,
here, hasn't been down. Still, we haven't been idle. I have something
to report. With our instruments we have discovered that the ship has
heeled over and that it will be a bit harder job to get into my office
and get out the safe than we hoped--but feasible."
Kennedy showed more interest in the diving apparatus than he had shown
in anything else so far. The trawler was outfitted most completely as a
tender, having been anchored over the exact spot at which the descents
were to be made, held by four strong cables, with everything in
readiness for action.
I saw him cast a quick glance at the others. For the moment Dominick,
Gage, and Kinsale seemed to have forgotten us in their interest
explaining to Norma what had been accomplished in her absence. He
seized the occasion to make an even closer examination of the
complicated apparatus. So carefully had accident been guarded against
that even a device for the purification of the air had been installed
in the machine which forced the fresh air down to the diver, compressed.
It was this apparatus which I saw Kennedy studying most, especially one
part where the air was passed through a small chamber containing a
chemical for the removal of carbon dioxide. As he looked up, I saw a
peculiar expression on his face. Quickly he removed the chemical,
leaving the tube through which the air passed empty.
"I think the air will be pure enough without any such treatment," he
remarked, glancing about to be sure no one had observed.
"How is that?" I inquired, eagerly.
"Well, you know air is a mechanical mixture of gases, mainly oxygen and
nitrogen. Here's something that gives it an excess of nitrogen and a
smaller percentage of oxygen. Nitrogen is the more dangerous gas for
one under compressed air. It is the more inert nitrogen that refuses to
get out of the blood after one has been under pressure, that forms the
bubbles of gas which cause all the trouble, the 'bends,' compressed-air
sickness, you know."
"Then that is how Traynor died?" I whispered, coming hastily to the
conclusion. "Some one placed the wrong salt in there--took out oxygen,
added nitrogen, instead of removing carbon dioxide?"
Norma had turned toward us. It was too early for Kennedy to accuse
anybody, whatever might be his suspicions. He could not yet come from
under cover. "I think so," was all he replied.
A moment later the group joined us. "No one has been down on the wreck
yet?" inquired Craig, at which Everson turned quickly to the three
companions he had left in charge, himself anxious to know.
"No," replied Kinsale before any one else could answer. "Mr. Dominick
thought we'd better wait until you came back."
"Then I should like to be the first," cut in Craig, to my utter
surprise. Remonstrance had no effect with him. Neither Norma nor Asta
could dissuade him. As for the rest of us, our objections seemed rather
to confirm him in his purpose.
Accordingly, in spite of the danger, which now no one no more than he
knew, all the preparations were made for the first dive. With the aid
of Kinsale, whom I watched closely, though no more so than Craig, he
donned the heavy suit of rubberized reinforced canvas, had the leads
placed on his feet and finally was fitted with the metal head and the
"bib"--the whole weighing hardly short of three hundred pounds. It was
with serious misgiving that I saw him go over the side of the trawler
and shoot down into the water with its dark mystery and tragedy.
The moments that he was down seemed interminable. Suspiciously I
watched every move that the men made, fearful that they might do
something. I longed for the technical knowledge that would have enabled
me to handle the apparatus. I tried to quiet my fears by reasoning that
Craig must have had perfect confidence in the value of his discovery if
he were willing to risk his life on it, yet I felt that at least a show
of vigilance on my part might bluff any one off from an attempt to
tamper again with the air-supply. I stuck about closely.
Yet, when there came a hasty signal on the indicator from below,
although I felt that he had been down for ages, I knew that it had been
only a very short time. Could it be a signal of trouble? Had some one
again tampered with the apparatus?
Would they never bring him up? It seemed as if they were working
fearfully slow. I remembered how quickly he had shot down. What had
seemed then only a matter of seconds and minutes now seemed hours. It
was only by sheer will power that I restrained myself as I realized
that going under the air pressure might be done safely quite fast, that
he must come out slowly, by stages, that over the telephone that
connected with his helmet he was directing the decompression in
accordance with the latest knowledge that medical science had derived
of how to avoid the dread caisson disease.
I don't know when I have felt more relief than I did at seeing his
weird headgear appear at the surface. The danger from the "bends" might
not be entirely over yet, but at least it was Craig himself, safe, at
last.
As he came over the side of the trawler I ran to him. It was like
trying to greet a giant in that outlandish suit which was so clumsy out
of the water. Craig's back was turned to the others, and when I
realized the reason I stood aghast. He had brought up a skull and had
handed the gruesome thing to me with a motion of secrecy. Meanwhile he
hastened to get out of the cumbersome suit, and, to my delight, showed
no evidence yet of any bad effects.
That he should have made the descent and returned so successfully I
felt must be a surprise to some one. Who was it? I could not help
thinking of Kinsale again. Was he working for two masters? Was he still
employed by the insurance company? Was this a scheme to capture all the
rich salvage of the ship instead of that percentage to which Everson
had secured an agreement with the underwriters?
Kennedy lost no time in getting back to the Belle Aventure with the
skull which I had concealed for him. It was a strange burden and I was
not loath to resign it to him. None of the others, apparently, knew
that he had brought up anything with him, and to all questions he
replied as though he had merely been testing out the apparatus and,
except in a most cursory way, had not made an examination of the ship,
although what he had observed confirmed the investigations they had
already made from the surface.
In our cabin, Kennedy set to work immediately after opening his
traveling laboratory and taking from it a small kit of tools and some
materials that looked almost like those for an actor's make-up.
I saw that he wished to be left alone and retired as gracefully as I
could, determined to employ the time in watching the others. I found
Norma seated in one of the wicker chairs on the after-deck, talking
earnestly with Dominick, and, hesitating whether I should interrupt
them, I paused between the library and the sumptuously fitted main
saloon. I was glad that I did, for just that moment of hesitation was
enough for me to surprise a man peering out at them through the
curtains of a window, with every evidence of intense dislike of the
situation. Looking closer, I saw that it was Gage. Had I expected
anything of the sort I should have gone even more cautiously. As it
was, though I surprised him, he heard me in time to conceal his real
intentions by some trivial action.
It seemed as if our arrival had been succeeded by a growth of suspicion
among the members of the little party. Each, as far as I could make
out, was now on guard, and, remembering that Kennedy had often said
that that was a most fruitful time, since it was just under such
circumstances that even the cleverest could not help incriminating
himself, I hastened back to let Craig know how matters were. He was at
work now on a most grotesque labor, and, as he placed on it the
finishing touches, he talked abstractedly.
"What I am using, Walter," he explained, "might be called a new art.
Lately science has perfected the difficult process of reconstructing
the faces of human beings of whom only the skull or a few bones,
perhaps, are obtainable.
"To the unskilled observer a fleshless skull presents little human
likeness and certainly conveys no notion of the exact appearance in
life of the person to whom it belonged. But by an ingenious system of
building up muscles and skin upon the bones of the skull this
appearance can be reproduced with scientific accuracy.
"The method, I might say, has been worked out independently by
Professor von Froriep, in Germany, and by Dr. Henri Martin, in France.
Its essential principle consists in ascertaining from the examination
of many corpses the normal thickness of flesh that overlies a certain
bone in a certain type of face. From these calculations the scientists
by elaborate processes build up a face on the skull."
I watched him, with an uncontrollable fascination. "For instance," he
went on, "a certain type of bone always has nearly the same thickness
of muscle over it. A very fine needle with graduations of hundredths of
an inch is used in these measurements. As I have done here, a great
number of tiny plaster pyramids varying in height according to the
measurements obtained by these researches are built up over the skull,
representing the thickness of the muscles. The next step will be to
connect them together by a layer of clay the surface of which is flush
with the tips of the pyramids. Then wax and grease paint and a little
hair will complete it. You see, it is really scientific restoration of
the face. I must finish it. Meanwhile, I wish you would watch Norma.
I'll join you in a short time."
Norma was not on deck when I returned, nor did I see any one else for
some time. I walked forward, and paused at the door to the little
wireless-room on the yacht, intending to ask the operator if he had
seen her.
"Where's Mr. Kennedy?" he inquired, before I had a chance to put my own
question. "Some one has been in this wireless-room this morning and
must have been sending messages. Things aren't as I left them. I think
he ought to know."
Just then Everson himself came up from below, his face almost as white
as the paint on the sides of his yacht. Without a word, he drew me
aside, looking about fearfully as though he were afraid of being
overheard. "I've just discovered half a dozen sticks of dynamite in the
hold," he whispered, hoarsely, staring wide-eyed at me. "There was a
timing device, set for to-night. I've severed it. Where's Kennedy?"
"Your wireless has been tampered with, too," I blurted out, telling
what I had just learned.
We looked at each other blankly. Clearly some one had plotted to blow
up the yacht and all of us on board. Without another word, I took his
arm and we walked toward our state-room, where Kennedy was at work. As
we entered the narrow passage to it I heard low voices. Some one was
there before us. Kennedy had shut the door and was talking in the hall.
As we turned the corner I saw that it was Norma, whom I had forgotten
in the surprise of the two discoveries that had been so suddenly made.
As we approached she glanced significantly at Kennedy as if appealing
to him to tell something. Before he could speak, Everson himself
interrupted, telling of his discovery of the dynamite and of what the
wireless operator had found.
There was a low exclamation from Norma. "It's a plot to kidnap me!" she
cried, in a smothered voice. "Professor Kennedy--I told you I thought
so!"
Everson and I could only look our inquiries at the startling new turn
of events.
"Miss Sanford has just been to her state-room," hastily explained
Craig. "There she found that some one had carefully packed up a number
of her things and hidden them, as if waiting a chance to get them off
safely. I think her intuition is correct. There would be no motive for
robbery--here."
Vainly I tried to reason it out. As I thought, I recalled that Gage had
seemed insanely jealous of both Dominick and Kinsale, whenever he saw
either with Norma. Did Gage know more about these mysterious happenings
than appeared? Why had he so persistently sought her? Had Norma
instinctively fled from his attentions?
"Where are the others?" asked Craig, quickly. I turned to Everson. I
had not yet had time to find out.
"Gone back to the trawler," he replied.
"Signal them to come aboard here directly," ordered Craig.
It seemed an interminable time as the message was broken out in flags
to the trawler, which was not equipped with the wireless. Even the
hasty explanation which Kennedy had to give to Asta Everson, as she
came out of her cabin, wondering where Orrin had gone, served only to
increase the suspense. It was as though we were living over a
powder-magazine that threatened to explode at any moment. What did the
treachery of one member of the expedition mean? Above all, who was it?
We had been so intent watching from the deck the all too slow approach
of the little power-boat from the trawler that we had paid no attention
to what was on our other quarter.
"A tug approaching, sir," reported the man on watch to Everson. "Seems
to be heading for us, sir."
We turned to look. Who was she, friend or foe? We knew not what to
expect. Everson, pale but with a firm grip on his nerves, did not move
from the deck as the power-boat came alongside, and Dominick, Gage, and
Kinsale swung themselves up the ladder to us.
"It's the tug of that pilot, Guiteras, sir," interposed the man who had
spoken before. Not a word was spoken, though I fancied that a quiet
smile flitted over Kennedy's face as we waited.
The tug ranged up alongside us. To my utter astonishment, I saw
Dolores, her black eyes eagerly scanning our faces. Was she looking for
Gage, I wondered? It was only a moment when the party that had put out
from the tug also came tumbling aboard.
"I got your message, Kennedy, and brought Guiteras. He wouldn't join
the expedition, but he thought more of his daughter than of anything
else."
It was Kenmore, who had at last achieved his wish to get on the
treasure-hunt story. Everson looked inquiringly at Craig.
"Message?" repeated Kennedy. "I sent no message."
It was Kenmore's turn to stare. Had some one hoaxed him into a
wild-goose chase, after all?
"Nothing? About Dolores being deserted, and--"
"He shall marry my daughter!" boomed a gruff voice as Guiteras
shouldered his way through the little group, his hand shooting back to
a pocket where bulged a huge Colt.
Like a flash Kennedy, who had been watching, caught his wrist. "Just a
second, Captain," he shouted, then turned to us, speaking rapidly and
excitedly. "This thing has all been carefully, diabolically laid out.
All who stood in the way of the whole of the treasure were to be
eliminated. One person has sought to get it all--at any cost."
In Craig's own hand now gleamed a deadly automatic while with the other
he held Guiteras's wrist.
"But," he added, tensely, "an insane passion has wrecked the desperate
scheme. A woman has been playing a part--leading the man on to his own
destruction in order to save the man she really loves."
I looked over at Norma. She was pale and agitated, then burning and
nervous by turns. It was only by a most heroic effort that she seemed
able to restrain herself, her eyes riveted on Kennedy's face, weighing
every word to see whether it balanced with a feeling in her own heart.
"The Antilles," shot out Kennedy, suddenly, "was burned and sunk, not
by accident, but with a purpose. That purpose has run through all the
events I have seen--the use of Mr. Everson, his yacht, his money, his
influence. Come!" He strode down the passage to our state-room, and we
followed in awed silence.
"It is a vast, dastardly crime--to get the Mexican millions," he went
on, pausing, his hand on the knob of the door while we crowded the
narrow passage. "I have brought up from the wreck a skull which I found
near a safe, unlocked so that entrance would be easy. The skull shows
plainly that the man had been hit on the head by some blunt instrument,
crushing him. Had he discovered something that it was inconvenient to
know? You have heard the stories of the ill-fated ship--"
Craig flung open the door suddenly. We saw a weird face--the head
apparently streaming blood from a ghastly wound. There was a shrill cry
beside me.
"It's his ghost--Captain Driggs! God save me--it's his ghost come to
haunt me and claim the treasure!"
I turned quickly. Dominick had broken down.
"You were--just leading him on--tell me--Norma." I turned again
quickly. It was Gage, who had taken Norma's hand, quivering with
excitement.
"You never cared for her?" she asked, with the anxiety that showed how
in her heart she loved him.
"Never. It was part of the plot. I sent the message to get her here to
show you. I didn't know you were playing a game--"
Suddenly the sharp crack of a pistol almost deafened us in the close
passageway. As the smoke cleared, I saw Dolores, her eyes blazing with
hatred, jealousy, revenge. In her hand was the pistol she had wrenched
from her father.
On the floor across the door-sill sprawled a figure. Dominick had paid
the price of his faithlessness to her also.
THE END