by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER XII
OVERBOARD
"What does he say, Captain Broadbeam?" asked Dave Fearless.
"Mum as an oyster, lad."
"Won't talk, eh?" remarked Dave's father. "Nothing come of giving himfree board, and after all the trouble you had, Dave, in getting him ontothe _Swallow_."
"You forget, father," reminded Dave, "it is one enemy the less to worryabout."
"The lad's right," declared Captain Broadbeam. "It means a good deal toclip the wings of the main mover in this scheme against us. If Gerstein,or Sehmitt-Schmitt as he calls himself, won't do us any good, at leasthe can do us no harm as long as we hold him a prisoner. I reckon thosefellows back at Minotaur Island are a little dazed at the slick way wedisappeared,--ship, their crony, and all."
Bob Vilett, seated in the cabin with the others, laughed heartily.
"It was a big move and a good one, that of yours in capturing thisrascal," he declared to Dave. "Now we certainly have the field toourselves. The governor and the pilot can't follow us, for they don'tknow where we have gone. No one is on this treasure search exceptourselves. It's a clear field, as I say."
"Until we reach the Windjammers' Island," suggested Dave. "I wouldn'twonder if Gerstein had left Captain Nesik and the others there, probablyguarding the treasure while awaiting his return."
The _Swallow_ had got away from the vicinity of Minotaur Island two daysprevious. Just as soon as, after his exciting capture of Gerstein, Davehad sufficiently recovered to explain matters to Captain Broadbeam, thelatter had ordered on full steam, leaving the ironclad stuck on thesandbar.
Gerstein raved like a madman when the drug Dave had given him began tolose its effect. He threatened all kinds of things--the law, for one,for kidnapping--but Captain Broadbeam only laughed at him.
"Just one word, my hearty," he observed spicily. "As long as you behaveyourself, outside of every man aboard having his eye on you to look outfor tricks, you'll have bed and food with the best of us. Try anydidos, though, and I clap you into irons--understand?"
Gerstein became at once sullen and silent. When he came on deck afterthat he spoke to nobody. Most of the time he remained shut up byhimself in the little cabin apportioned to him.
The second day out Captain Broadbeam sought an interview with him. Itwas after a talk with Amos Fearless.
He offered Gerstein a liberal share of the treasure if he would divulgeits whereabouts and tell what had become of the _Raven_ and her crew.
Gerstein declined to say a word. He simply regarded the captain in amocking, insolent way. It was evident that the fellow appreciated thefull value of his knowledge concerning the treasure.
"He's counting on getting away from us somehow, before the cruise isover," reported Captain Broadbeam to his friends, "or he is takingchances on our running into a nest of his friends when we reach theWindjammers' Island."
The _Swallow_ had a delightful run to Mercury Island. Before theyreached it Gerstein was placed in the hold, and there closely guarded bytwo mariners until they had provisioned up and were once more on theirway.
Dave had little to do except to wait the end of their cruise, yet he putin some busy hours. For three days he kept Stoodles at his side at thetable in the captain's cabin, questioning him on every detail about thelay and outlines of the island they were sailing to. Then he made achart of the island, and as near as possible from memory marked in theother island where they had recovered possession of the _Swallow_ afterit had been stranded during a cyclone.
The weather changed suddenly a day or two out from Mercury Island. Theyrode into a fierce northeaster, and it rained nearly all the time, withleaden skies and a choppy sea.
Dave was a good deal below. One afternoon, returning from a brief visitto Bob Vilett, as he was making for the cabin passageway, a chink oflight attracted his attention.
It emanated from a crack in the paneling of the cabin occupied byGerstein. Dave drew nearer to the chink, and could look quite clearlyinto the compartment that housed the person in whom he was naturallyvery much interested at all times.
"H'm!" said Dave, with a bright flicker in his eye. "He's making achart, too, is he?"
The daylight was so dim that Gerstein had a lighted candle on the tableat which he sat. Spread out before him was a sheet of heavy manilapaper. It bore black outlines as if an irregular body of land, and hadcrosses and dots all over it.
At this Gerstein was working, thoughtfully scanning it at times and thenmaking additions to it. Dave believed that it had something to do withthe treasure.
"Our treasure," he reflected, "and I'll play something else than the spyif I get a chance to look over that chart, whatever it is."
He watched the man's movements for over half an hour. Then Gersteinfolded up the paper, placing it in a thin tin tobacco box. This hesecured in a pocket in the blue shirt he wore, buttoning the pocket flapsecurely.
Dave got no further sight of the mysterious paper, if such it was,during the next week. He felt himself justified in trying to get achance to secure the little tin box. Twice he visited Gerstein's cabinsecretly, while its occupant was on deck. Gerstein, however, apparentlycarried the box with him wherever he went.
One night, when he slept, Dave crept into the cabin, the door of whichfor a wonder had been left unlocked. He ransacked Gerstein's clothing,but with no result.
"Got it somewhere in bed with him," thought Dave. "I don't dare to tryand find it, though. I would surely wake him up. I believe I will tellCaptain Broadbeam about the little tin box. If it in any way concernsthis treasure, why haven't we the right to take it away from Gerstein,even by force?"
Before Dave had an opportunity to consult with Captain Broadbeam,however, something transpired that changed all his plans.
It was a dark and stormy night. The weather had been rough all day.Dave came on deck about eight o'clock to find the captain on duty. Afew men were making things tidy about the stern deck.
The _Swallow_ was plowing the water, slanted like a swordfish in action.Dave held to a handle at the side of the cabin, peering into thedarkness that hung about them like a pall.
According to the calculations of the captain they were somewhere in thevicinity of the Windjammers' Island--probably within fifty miles of it,he had told Amos Fearless at sunset.
As Dave stood there, braced and exhilarated by the dash of wind andspray, he saw Gerstein suddenly rush up the cabin stairs.
"Hello, what's up with him, I wonder," thought Dave.
The remark was caused by a view of the face of the fellow as he passed alantern set near the forecastle. Gerstein seemed frightfully agitated.Heedless of the slippery deck, he plunged along towards the stern. Onceor twice a lurch threatened to bring him clear over the rail and intothe sea.
Dave could not resist following him to learn the cause of hisperturbation. A swing of the boat sent him clinging to the rail.Holding firmly, Dave, within twelve feet of the stern, saw Gerstein dashin among the men busy there and heard him shout out:
"Barlow--quick. Is he here?"
"Here I am," answered the owner of that name, looking around from histask of lashing down the cover of a water butt.
"My shirt--your shirt--the one you loaned me while I had mine washed,"spoke Gerstein, in an anxious, gasping tone. "I gave it back to youthis afternoon."
"Yes, you did," nodded Barlow.
"Where is it? Have you it on--say, quick!"
"Threw it under my bunk. In the forecastle. Bunk nearest the gangway.Hey, you've no sea legs, that's sure."
A lurch of the steamer had sent Gerstein off his footing. He wentheadlong. His head struck the side, and for a second he lay stunned.
Before he had fairly got to his feet, Dave Fearless had acted under theimpulse of a very vivid suggestion.
From what he had seen and heard he felt certain that Gerstein wanted theshirt he had borrowed because he had left something in hi
s pocket.
"That tin box, I'll bet--why not?" cried Dave, making a dash in thedirection of the forecastle.
Dave was so full of his idea that he did not take the trouble to lookback to see if Gerstein was coming, too. He got to the forecastle, wasdown the gangway fast as he could go, and a second later was gropingunder Barlow's bunk.
"Here it is," he said, pulling out the garment in question. "Somethingin the pocket, too, yes, it's the box--the little tin box, I can tell bythe feeling. Good!"
Dave hurried back up the steps. He just cleared them as Gersteinplunged rather than ran towards them. A steady light shone here.
"Say," bolted out Gerstein, at once recognizing the garment in Dave'shand, "that's my shirt."
"No, it isn't," declared Dave, swinging back as Gerstein made a grab atthe garment. "It belongs to Barlow."
"I have something in it."
"I know you have."
"Ha, you spy! Let go, let go."
The result of a general mixing up of Dave and Gerstein was that each nowhad hold of the coveted garment.
As Gerstein spoke last he sagged and swung Dave around to one side.
Dave held on tightly. Suddenly Gerstein made a feint. He slackened thetension by a bend forward, one hand swung out.
Dave received a heavy blow at the side of the head. It was totallyunexpected, and he loosed his grip and went reeling backward.
At that moment a terrific wave swept over the deck. Dave was submergedand carried along.
He tried in vain to catch at something. The tilt of the steamer senthim shooting outward, and the next moment he plunged over the rail intothe sea below.