The Treasure Hunt of the S-18

by Graham M. Dean

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  On the Trail of "Mr. Seven"

  The field manager, who had been supervising the refueling of theamphibian, came into the office and Sladek turned toward him.

  "What do you know about the Cedar river country?" he asked.

  "It's bad business for flyers," replied Hunter. "The entire valley iswooded, with many high bluffs, and if your motor goes bad there isn't asafe place to set down. All you can do is aim at some tree top and hopefor the best."

  "That's one reason I flew out here in an amphib. There shouldn't bemuch trouble landing on the river."

  "Not unless you smack down and ram a sand bar or have a snag come upand smash in the bottom of your ship."

  "That's encouraging. Doesn't look like we could go much furthertonight. You'd better roll my ship into one of the hangars. We'll wantto get an early start in the morning."

  "If there's some particular place you want to know about in the valley,Tim Murphy may be able to help you," suggested Hunter.

  "Who's Tim Murphy?" demanded Sladek.

  "He's the flying reporter for the Atkinson _News_. He's flown all overthat country and with the exception of a small field near the villageof Auburn there isn't another place to land safely and then a big shiplike yours couldn't make it."

  "You can leave reporters out of this," snapped Sladek. "I guess I'll beable to get along all right."

  Tim, standing behind him, grinned. He was certain that "Mr. Seven" andJack Sladek were bound for the valley of the Cedar on the same mission.Neither one wanted publicity.

  Sladek, his two bodyguards and his pilot, left the airport in ataxicab. After the amphib had been rolled into a hangar and berthed forthe night, Hunter turned to Tim.

  "What do you make of him?" he asked.

  "He's after something big," said the flying reporter, "or he wouldn'thave flown out here. Another thing, he doesn't want any publicity onhis arrival. All of which makes me sure that there is a big story overin the valley of the Cedar."

  "That means you'll be heading that way tomorrow morning."

  "Maybe before that."

  "Trying to land there in the dark would be suicide."

  "I don't think a plane will do a whole lot of good on a story likethis. I've a hunch that a car and a good pair of legs may be best."

  It was eight-thirty when Tim returned to the office to plunge againinto the files in quest of the identity of "Mr. Seven." A scrub womanat the other end of the office looked at him curiously, then went abouther work. There was no explaining the action of these newspaper men whocame and went at all hours of the night.

  The day by day record of events slipped through Tim's fingers as hewent through the file with new enthusiasm. Six months, then nine monthsand finally a year of action passed. A clock outside boomed eleven butstill there was no clue to "Mr. Seven." Tim went to the library for anew supply of files and spread them out on his own desk and Ralph's.His eyes were getting heavy but he kept at the task.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs and he looked up to see the managingeditor appear in the doorway.

  "What's up, Tim?" asked Carson.

  "Just trailing a story," replied the flying reporter, "and right now itlooks like a mighty slim trail with the scent growing fainter everyminute."

  "Let's hear about it."

  Tim recounted briefly the arrival of "Mr. Seven" and how he had arousedthe interest of the flying reporter. Then he told of the arrival ofJack Sladek and linked the two together.

  "They're after something in the Cedar river valley and if I could onlyget the key to the identity of 'Mr. Seven' I might know what to aim at."

  The possibilities of the story caught the managing editor's vividimagination.

  "I'll give you a hand," he said, "you scan the pages on the right; I'lltake the ones on the left. You've given me enough description so Iought to be able to recognize your man."

  Editor and reporter sat down and took up the task together. Anotherhalf hour slipped by when Tim stopped suddenly. He looked at the pagebefore him with almost unbelieving eyes. There, staring at him from themiddle of a large feature, was the likeness of "Mr. Seven."

  "Have you found him?" asked Carson.

  "Yes," said Tim, but the word was automatic. He was reading the captionover the picture and the words, "Grenville Ford, Adventurer and GlobeTrotter," burned their way into his mind. This then, was "Mr. G. Seven."

  "Why that's Ford, the globe trotter. He was with Byrd at the South Poleand with Adamson when he made his round the world flight two years ago."

  "I'm positive that the man I know as 'Mr. Seven' is Ford," said Tim."The likeness is unmistakable and you must remember that I have seen'Mr. Seven' at close range a number of times."

  "Has anyone else seen him?"

  "Both Dan Watkins and Ralph," said Tim.

  "Then get them on the phone and have them come to the office rightaway."

  Ralph, roused from a sound sleep, promised to come at once as did thehead of the copydesk. Tim heard an exclamation from the managing editoras he replaced the receiver on its hook.

  "I've found the key to the presence of both Ford and Sladek in themiddle west," he said. "Listen to this:

  "NEW YORK CITY--(Special to the Atkinson _News_)--Adventure is again calling Grenville Ford, world famous adventurer and globe trotter. This time it is the sunken millions in the stone box of the tramp steamer, Southern Queen, which went down in the Caribbean in the fall of 1923. The exact location of the sinking of the Southern Queen has never been known but Ford is believed to have learned the whereabouts of the wreckage and to be making plans for the salvage of the sunken treasure."

  "But just how does that link up with his visit to Atkinson under anassumed name and the arrival tonight of Jack Sladek with a couple ofbodyguards?" asked Tim.

  "Wait until I'm through. Then you'll feel the same way I do," insistedthe managing editor. He continued reading from the story in the files:

  "When the revolution headed by Manuel Crespes in Guato failed, Crespes and his fellow adventurers looted the rich mines there and fled aboard the _Southern Queen_. Estimates at the amount of gold taken by the fleeing rebels have varied from $500,000 to more than $5,000,000 but it is safe to say that sufficient gold was taken to make an attempt at its recovery highly worthwhile.

  "The _Southern Queen_ left Martee, the main port of Guato, apparently in good condition but the vessel never reached port. Exactly what happened has never been known. Her disappearance has been one of the mysteries of the seven seas. Various theories have been advanced. One of the most persistent was that the leaders of the futile revolution in Guato killed all members of the crew when they neared a safe coast, scuttled the ship, took the treasure and escaped in small boats. Another is that a storm which raged in the Caribbean shortly after the _Southern Queen_ left Martee caught the little tramp steamer in its center and sent it whirling to the bottom with the loss of everyone on board. Several expeditions have been formed to hunt for the treasure but none of them have been successful and so far no actual trace of the _Southern Queen_ has been found.

  "_News_ that Ford is planning to search for the treasure brings the story into the forefront again for he is known as a soldier of fortune of the higher type. While Ford refuses to divulge his plans in any detail, friends believe that he has learned the whereabouts of one of the survivors of the _Southern Queen_"

  The story went on to recount other adventures in which Ford had playeda prominent part but added nothing more in the way of information aboutthe hunt for the treasure of the Southern Queen.

  "I'm still trying to guess what brought him out here," said Tim.

  "It's as plain as though written on the wall," replied the managingeditor. "This story was printed more than a year ago, yet Ford hasn'tstarted his expedition. Money hasn't held him up for he has plenty tofinance any such trip. What did? Something must have happened to hissource of informati
on. Either it vanished or he has had to do far morework in ferreting out the facts than he expected. In either case I'mbetting that Ford came here under an assumed name and went into theCedar river valley for the one and only purpose of learning somethingwhich is vital to the success of his treasure hunt."

  "If he is seeking information in connection with the treasure of the_Southern Queen_ that would explain his use of an assumed name and hisevasion of reporters," agreed Tim. "It would also account for thepresence of Sladek, who tries to vote himself into anything that lookslike easy money."

  "In other words both Ford and Sladek are after the sunken treasure inthe _Southern Queen_ and there's some information over in the valley ofthe Cedar that both are after," said Carson.

  "All of which may mean a good story for the _News_" smiled Tim.

  "When can you start for the valley?"

  "Right away."

  "Can you go by plane?"

  "Not tonight. I'll drive down. Ralph can bring the plane in tomorrowand land near Auburn. I'm not sure a plane will be much use except fora fast trip home with the story. I'll probably have to take a boat if Iwant to get around much in that country."

  "Got any cash?"

  "Less than $10."

  Carson dug into his own pocket. "Here's $20. I'll have Ralph bring youexpense money when he flies over."

  In their eager discussion of the possibilities of the story they hadalmost forgotten the telephone calls to Ralph and Dan Watkins and Timwas about to depart for the Cedar river valley when they burst into theoffice.

  "What's the matter?" asked Watkins. "Something big break?"

  "Not yet, but soon," grinned Tim. "We think we've learned the identityof 'Mr. Seven.' Both you and Ralph have seen him. Take a good look atthat picture over there and tell us what you think."

  The newcomers scanned the printed likeness of Grenville Ford withcritical eyes.

  "That's 'Mr. Seven' without a doubt," said the chief copyreader andRalph added his agreement.

  "Then you'd better start for the valley at once," said Carson.

  "You might tell us a little about it," suggested the veteran head ofthe copy desk.

  "You'll hear full details when the story breaks," cried Tim as heheaded for the stairs.

  He took the best of the cars which the _News_ owned for the trip, apowerful coupe capable of high speed and standing lots of abuse on therough roads of the Cedar valley.

  He swung in front of the _News_ building, just as the others came downfrom the editorial office.

  "I'll take you home," he called.

  "I've got my car," replied the managing editor.

  "The short walk will do me good," added Watkins, but Ralph decided toride.

  "Carson told us the whole story and says I'm to fly over in the morningand land near Auburn," he said. "Will you be there?"

  "That's hard to say, but if I'm not you wait for me even if you have tostay there a couple of days."

  "Sounds like a vacation trip."

  "It may be anything but that." Then, thinking of the big amphibian andJack Sladek and his bodyguards, he added: "The amphibian Sladek came inis in the hangar next to the one we use. If I leave you at the field,do you suppose you could fix it so they'd be delayed several hoursgetting their motor started in the morning?"

  "It's as good as done," said Ralph. "With this flight on tomorrow I'llhave an excuse to visit the field."

  Tim left Ralph at the airport and sped on alone toward the valley ofthe mighty Cedar.