The Treasure Hunt of the S-18

by Graham M. Dean

  CHAPTER NINE

  In the Valley

  From his temporary place of refuge Tim watched the amphibian circleover the valley. They were hunting for his hiding place and he pulledhis boat in closer to shore where the dense foliage would effectuallyscreen him from the eyes of the observers above.

  For fifteen minutes the big plane soared overhead. Then as quickly asit had come it vanished upstream and Tim guessed that it was going toAuburn to learn exact directions for reaching the island of Crazy John.

  Once sure that he was safe from the amphibian for the time being, Timstarted his engine and chugged away from his refuge. The water of thebayou into which he turned was quiet, but there was the hidden menaceof snags and Tim was compelled to move forward slowly.

  Another bayou opened off the first and then another. At each one Timdirected his boat toward the right and each time he stood up andshouted lustily. There was no response.

  The water was shallow now; not more than two feet deep. Rank watergrasses waved above the surface but through them there was a definitewatercourse and Tim followed this, stopping from time to time to repeathis shouts.

  Nosing through a thick clump of the water grass, he came into a stretchof open water at the far end of which was a ramshackle dock.

  Tim shut off his outboard, lifted the motor into his boat, and set hisoars into their sockets. With steady strokes he pulled toward theisland. A hundred yards from the dock he let his oars drag, turnedtoward the island, cupped his hands, and shouted mightily.

  "Hello, there on the island," he cried. "Hello! hello!"

  But the only response was the mocking echoes. Tim waited a full minute;then proceeded slowly toward the dock. Once more he rested on the oarsand called. This time the baying of dogs answered and two huge beastscame galloping down to the water's edge. Teeth bared, they waited forhim to come ashore.

  Tim had no intention of providing a meal for the dogs, and he kept asafe distance from shore. For five minutes the dogs snapped and snarledat him. Then they were silent and two men appeared from the tangle ofbrush.

  Grenville Ford was in the lead with an older man, greatly stooped,behind him.

  "What do you want?" called Ford.

  "I'm Tim Murphy of the Atkinson _News_. Let me come ashore."

  "Nobody lands here, mate," boomed the man behind Ford, and Tim wassurprised at the vigor of the tone. Crazy John, from his voice, wasanything but a weakling despite the stoop in his shoulders.

  "What was all the shooting a few minutes ago?" asked Ford cautiously.

  "Fellow by the name of Jack Sladek who landed at Atkinson last nightwas flying over the river in an amphibian," replied Tim. "He took a fewshots at me and I've an idea he thought he was shooting at you."

  "He probably did," agreed Ford. "Well, since you've come this far youmight as well come ashore. I see you discovered that 'Mr. Seven' wasjust an assumed name."

  "I didn't find out until last night and then with the coming of Sladek,things commenced to click. You know what I'm after."

  Ford nodded. "You want a story about my plans to hunt for the treasurein the _Southern Queen_?"

  "Right. The fact that both you and Sladek are here in this valley isenough to make a rattling good story. I'd rather have facts but if Ican't get them I'll have to do a little guess work and I've a hunch Ican come pretty close at that. Crazy John came to the valley nine orten years ago and the Southern Queen disappeared eleven years ago."

  "And you think Crazy John knows where the Queen sunk and that bothSladek and myself are after the information?"

  "Right again."

  Ford laughed. "I'll confess I admire your nerve. Of course you knew thereputation Crazy John has for shooting anyone who prowls around hisisland."

  "I knew that," grinned Tim, "but I hadn't figured on being shot at froman airplane. That was a little uncomfortable."

  "Pull your boat in," said Ford. Then, turning to the former sailor, headded. "It's all right, John. This young man is a friend of mine. Wemay need his help before the night is over."

  Tim made his boat fast at the dock and followed Ford and Crazy John upa twisting path. The dogs, mongrel hounds, trailed behind them. On aslight elevation in the middle of the island was Crazy John's house, arambling structure of logs and timber that had been salvaged from theriver. Vines softened the bareness of the house. Inside it was livable,the floor of hard beaten clay swept clean, with a huge fireplace takingone whole wall. On the opposite side opened two cubicles which wereused for sleeping quarters.

  Crazy John puffed slowly at his pipe. "They don't lose much time," hesaid as the sound of an airplane came faintly over the bayou.

  "Sladek's a fast worker," conceded Ford. "I hardly believed he would beable to follow me here. If he finds you, he'll do anything to get thesecret of the Southern Queen."

  "He won't find me," said Crazy John. "There's half a hundred places Ican hide in the valley."

  The sound of the airplane was nearer and they stepped out of the cabin.The amphibian was in sight but low and on the other side of the valley.

  "He's going to land." said Tim. "There's a long stretch of clear waterover there."

  "He'll never be able to taxi that big flying boat up this bayou," addedFord. "It will be an hour before they can get here. Did Sladek have hisusual gunmen with him?"

  "Two beside the pilot," said Tim.

  "I'm not afraid of a fight," went on Ford, "but there is no use ingetting into trouble if it can be avoided. We'll leave the island atonce and John can find one of the refuges he speaks about."

  "Good idea," said the old sailor. "I'll tell you how to find anotherway out of the bayou."

  Crazy John went into the cabin to pick up a few belongings he wanted totake and Tim had a chance to speak to Ford.

  "Do I get the story?" he asked.

  "If we get out of this all right, I'll do the best I can," promisedFord.

  Tim had to be satisfied with that, for it was imperative that they getaway from the island.

  Crazy John reappeared, this time with a duffle bag, and he set off downthe path ahead of them. He tossed his bag in Tim's boat and climbed in.

  "Where's your boat?" Tim asked Ford.

  "It's half way around the island. We'll pick it up on our way out."

  With experienced hands, the old sailor started the outboard and theyshot out into the shallow bayou. With a skill born of long acquaintancewith the river, Crazy John guided the boat between snags and alwaysfound safe water. They nosed into a cove and picked up Ford's boat,which they took in tow.

  From the river itself they could hear the thunder of the motors of theamphibian as the pilot taxied it up and down stream hunting for theopening of the bayou which led to Crazy John's island.

  "Good thing they're not in the air. They'd spot us in a minute," saidFord.

  "We could get under cover in a minute," said Tim.

  "You mean we might be able to," Ford's finger touched the splinteredseat at the rear of the boat. "Next time they might not miss." CrazyJohn shut off the motor and the boat drifted toward a sand pit. Itgrated gently on the bottom and came to rest.

  "I'm getting out here," said the old sailor.

  "You're sure you've got everything you need?" The question was directedto Ford and Tim caught the intentness with which Crazy John spoke.

  "Everything," said Ford. "Sure you won't change your mind?"

  Crazy John's face took on a stony look and his eyes wandered over thevalley.

  "I won't change," he said. "This is my home. I'm satisfied. That goldis cursed. You'll be lucky to get back alive."

  "I'll get back all right," promised Ford, "and you'll get your share."

  "You'll need good men. Better take this lad. He's the kind you cantrust." Crazy John extended his hand to Ford, then swung his bag overhis shoulder and stalked off along the sand bar. Soon he was lost inthe undergrowth.

  When Ford turned around, Tim caught a gleam of
moisture in his eyes andhis hands trembled a little.

  The flying reporter bent down and started the outboard. The shadowswere lengthening and they must find a safe haven for the night.

  For an hour they followed the directions Crazy John had given them,keeping always in the backwater of the great river. Then they nosed outtoward the main channel. The sound of the motors of the amphibian hadlong since been lost and twilight was enfolding the valley.

  The globe trotter came back and sat in the seat just ahead, facing Tim.

  "We'd better hunt a camp site," he said. "It's impossible to makeAuburn tonight."

  "I've got plenty of food and blankets," said Tim.

  "There's a supply in my boat, too," nodded Ford. "Let's turn off themain river now."

  Tim sent the boat twisting around the sand bars and toward the mouth ofa stream on the right bank. Trees met above the smaller stream and 200yards up its valley they found a small clearing richly carpeted withgrass.

  "This is fine," said Ford. "We ought to find a spring somewhere in thebluffs back of us."

  While Tim made the boats fast and unloaded the duffle, Ford took awater jug and went in search of water. By the time he was back, Tim hada fire, built from dry, smokeless wood, burning well. Supper was notlong, with two experts in camping lending a hand.

  The meal was simple--bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, bread and jam, butthere was plenty of everything.

  After they had eaten their fill, they spread their blankets beside thefire. It was a time when men's tongues are loosened and Tim waitedpatiently. He felt that in good time, Ford would tell him the story ofhis efforts to learn the whereabouts of the Southern Queen and thetreasure in gold which it held.

  "How much do you know about my plans to recover the gold in theSouthern Queen?" he asked.

  "To be frank, I don't know a great deal," admitted Tim. "When you cameto Atkinson as 'Mr. G. Seven' you aroused my curiosity. I knew thatsomewhere I had seen your picture, that your name should be on the tipof my tongue. I'd have learned your identity sooner but the paper wassponsoring an air circus and I had to handle the publicity. Then when Ifound your picture in the file in a story a little over a year ago Iknew what you were after, but by that time you had left Atkinson."

  "How did you trace me here?"

  "Found out where you had rented your car, and learned that you had madeinquiries about this section of the state. Then when Sladek arrived inan amphibian and made similar inquiries I had a hunch something wasgoing to break. After reaching Auburn it was easy to learn that theonly man on the river who had been a sailor was Crazy John."

  "So you rented a boat and started downstream after the story and on theway Sladek's outfit took a few shots at you?"

  "That's about the size of it. Now all I need to fill out the story iswhat you're going to do."

  "I'm going after the treasure in the Southern Queen and I'm going totake you with me," said Ford.

  "You're what?" asked Tim incredulously.

  "I'm going to take you with me on the hunt for the treasure in the holdof the Southern Queen."

  Tim stared, still unbelieving.

  "Will you go?" Ford was pressing him for an answer.

  "But you don't know much about me."

  "I know that you're resourceful and courageous and that Crazy John saidyou were a good man. I'd take Crazy John's word for it even if I didn'tknow the other things about you."

  "Then you can count me in right now if it can be arranged so I can geta leave of absence from the _News_."