by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER XI
A JOLT FROM OLD HICKORY
You know Old Hickory Ellins ain't what you might call a sunshinedistributor. His disposition would hardly remind you of a placid poolat morn, or the end of a perfect day. Not as a rule. Sort of a crossbetween a March blizzard and a July thunderstorm would hit it nearer.
Honest, sometimes when he has started on a rampage through the generaloffices here, I've seen the bond-room clerks grip their desks like theyexpected to be blown through the windows; and the sickly green tinge onPiddie's face when he comes out from a hectic ten minutes with the bigboss is as good a trouble barometer as you'd want.
Even on average days, when Corrugated affairs seem to be runnin'smooth, Mr. Ellins is apt to come down with a lumbago grouch or developshootin' pains in the knee, and then anybody who ducks gettin' in rangeof that snappy sarcasm of his is lucky.
Not that he always means it, or that he's generally disliked. As soonas it's safe, the bond clerks grin at each other and the lady typistsgo to yankin' away on their gum placid. They know nobody's ever hadthe can tied to 'em from this joint without good cause. Also, they'vecome to expect about so many growls a day from Old Hickory.
But say, they don't know what to make of him this last week or so.Twice he's been late, three days runnin' he's quit early, and in allthat time he ain't raised a blessed howl about anything. Not onlythat, but the other mornin' he blew in wearin' a carnation in hisbutton-hole and hummin' a tune. I saw Piddie watch him with his eyesbugged, and the battery of typists let out a sort of chorus gasp as thedoor of his private office shut behind him.
Finally Mr. Robert beckons me over and remarks confidential:
"Torchy, have you--er--noticed anything peculiar about the governorthese last few days?"
"Could I help it?" says I.
"Ah!" says he. "Somewhat rare, such moods. I've been wondering. Hehas hinted to me that he might start on some sort of a cruise soon."
"Has he?" says I, tryin' to look surprised.
"You don't suppose, Torchy," Mr. Robert goes on, "that the governorreally means to go after that buried treasure?"
"Mr. Robert," says I, "I ain't sayin' a word."
"By Jove!" says he. "So that's the way it stands? Well, you haven'ttold me anything. And, do you know, I am beginning to think it wouldbe a fine thing for him to do. It would get his mind off business,give him an outing, and--er--simplify our negotiations in thatIshpeming deal. I think I shall encourage his going."
"If you want to make it doubtful, I would," says I.
"Eh?" says Mr. Robert. "You mean-- Well, I'm not sure but that you'reright. I'll do just the opposite, then--suggest that he'll not likecruising, and remind him that the Corrugated has a critical seasonahead of it. By the way, what sort of a boat has he chartered?"
"At last accounts," says I, "they hadn't found one that suited. Yousee, Auntie won't stand for a gasoline engine, and--"
"Do I understand that Mrs. Hemmingway is going, too?" gasps Mr. Robert.
I nods.
"She's one of the partners," says I. "Kind of a particular old girl,too, when it comes to yachts. I judge she wants something about halfway between a Cunarder and a ten-room flat; something wide andsubstantial."
Mr. Robert grins. "They ought to be told about the _Agnes_," says he.
"What about her?" says I.
"Why," says he, "she's the marine antique that Ollie Wade inheritedfrom his uncle, the old Commodore. A fine boat in her day, too, but atrifle obsolete now: steam, of course, and a scandalous coal eater.Slow, too; ten knots is her top speed. But she's a roomy, comfortableold tub, and Ollie would be glad to get her off his hands for a monthor two. Suppose I--"
"Would you mind, Mr. Robert," I breaks in, "if I discovered the _Agnes_for 'em? I might boost my battin' average with Auntie; and maybe Icould work Ollie for a commission."
"Here!" says Mr. Robert, shovin' over the desk 'phone. "Make him giveyou five per cent. at least. Here's his number."
So that's how it happens I come to be pilotin' this trio of treasurehunters--Auntie, Old Hickory, and Captain Rupert Killam--over to aSouth Brooklyn yacht basin and exhibitin' the _Agnes_. You'd neverguess, either, from the way she's all painted up fresh, that she wasthe A. Y. C. flagship as far back as the early nineties.
"What a nice, wide boat!" says Auntie.
"Beam enough for a battleship," grumbles Rupert.
"I do hope," goes on Auntie, "that the staterooms are something morethan cubbyholes."
"Let's take a look," says I, producin' the keys.
Ollie had mentioned specially the main saloon, but I wasn't lookin' foranything half so grand. Why, you could almost give a ball in it. Hada square piano and a fireplace, too.
"Huh!" says Old Hickory. "Quite a craft."
It was when we got to the two suites, one on each side of thecompanionway 'midships, that Auntie got real enthusiastic; for, besidesthe brass beds and full-sized bathtubs, they had clothes closets, easychairs, and writin' desks.
"Excellent!" says she. "But what are those queer overhead pipes for, Iwonder?"
"Must be for the cold-air system Mr. Wade was tellin' me about," says I.
"Oh, yes," adds Old Hickory. "I remember now. This is the boatCommodore Wade went up the Orinoco in, and he had her fitted fortropical cruising. How many staterooms in all, did you say, son?"
"Twelve, outside of the crew's quarters," says I.
"Regular floating hotel," says Old Hickory. "We shall not be crowdedfor room, Mrs. Hemmingway."
"Then why not ask some of our friends to go with us?" suggests Auntie."There are one or two I should like to take along for companionship.And it will not look so much like an expedition if we make up acruising party."
"Very well," says Old Hickory; "that's not a bad idea. We'll decide onthis boat, then?"
Captain Killam tried to point out that the _Agnes_ was a bigger craftthan they needed, and that she didn't look as if she had much speed.But Auntie had already planned how she could camp comfortable in one ofthem suites, and Old Hickory had discovered that the yacht sported awireless outfit. Hanged if each one of 'em didn't talk like they'dfound the _Agnes_ all by themselves, or had her built to order! I gotabout as much credit as if I hadn't been along at all.
I felt a little better about that two hours later, when I'd hunted upOllie at his club, shoved a thousand dollar check at him, and got hisname on a charter agreement.
"I say, you know," says Ollie, "awfully good of you to do this."
"I'm like that all the time," says I, pocketin' my fifty commission."I'll rent the _Agnes_ out for you any old day, so long as I don't haveto go battin' around on her myself."
Course, if it was just a case of sailin' down to Coney and back, ormaybe runnin' up the Hudson as far as Yonkers, I'd take a chance. Butthis pikin' right out past Sandy Hook, and then goin' on for days anddays, leavin' Broadway further behind every turn of the shaft--that'sdifferent. You're liable to get so far away.
Then, there's that wabbly feeling that comes over you. Say, I had itonce, when I was out in an old lobster boat off the coast of Maine, thetime I used my summer vacation chasin' up where Vee was visitin'. Ihad it good and plenty, too, and didn't have to go more'n a couple ofmiles to get it, either. But think of bein' that way for a couple ofweeks, and out where you couldn't get ashore if you wanted to. Excuseme!
Besides, I never did have the travel bug very hard. I'll admit I ain'tseen much of the country outside of New York; but say, what I havelooked over struck me as bein' kind of crude. I expect fields andwoods and the seaside stuff is all right for them that likes 'em. Makegood pictures, and all that. But them places always seem to me suchlonesome spots. Fine and dandy, so far as the view goes, but nobody toit. I like my scenery sort of inhabited, and fixed so it can be lit upat night. So I do most of my travelin' between the Bronx and theBattery, and let it go at that.
Now Vee has been brought up different. She's chased round
with Auntieall over the map, ever since she can remember. They don't mindstartin' off with a maid and seven trunks and not seein' Fifth Avenuefor months at a time. She and Auntie think nothing at all of driftin'into places like Nagasaki or Honolulu or Algiers, hirin' a furnishedflat or a house, and campin' down just as if they belonged there;places where they speak all kinds of crazy languages, where ice-creamsodas don't grow at all, and where you don't even know what you'reeatin' half the time. Think of that! But Auntie's an original oldgirl, take it from me.
"She ain't countin' on draggin' you off on this batty gold-diggin'excursion, is she?" I asks the other evenin', as I was up makin' myreg'lar Wednesday night call.
Vee shrugs her shoulders.
"I'm sure I don't know," says she. "You see, although she knowsperfectly well I've heard all about it, Auntie makes a deep mystery ofeverything connected with this cruise. It's that absurd Captain Killamwho puts her up to it, I believe."
"Romantic Rupert?" says I. "Oh, he's a soft-shell on that subject.Accordin' to his idea, anybody who overhears any details of this piratetreasure tale of his is liable to grab a dirt shovel and rush right offdown there to begin diggin' Florida up by the roots. He loses sleepworryin' as to whether someone else won't get there first. It would betough if Auntie should take you along, though. I'd hate that."
"Would you?" says Vee. "Really? Well, I've been asked to visit atthree places--Greenwich, Piping Rock, and here in town. How would thatbe?"
"Not so bad," says I, "specially that last proposition. I'm strong foryour visitin' here in town."
"Perhaps we shall hear to-night whether I'm to go or not," says Vee."They are to hold some sort of meeting here--everyone who has beenasked on the cruise. There's someone now."
"It's Mr. Ellins," says I, "and-- Oh, look who he's towin' along--J.Dudley Simms. He must be for comic relief."
Just why him and Old Hickory should be such great friends I never couldmake out, for they're about as much alike as T and S. Dudley's as thinas Mr. Ellins is thick; he always wears that batty twisted smile, whileOld Hickory's mouth corners are generally straight, and he knows nomore about finance than an ostrich does about playin' first base. Mr.Simms owns a big block of Corrugated preferred, and he's supposed to beon the Board; but all he ever does is to sign over proxy slips and duckdirectors' meetings.
"I'm an orphan, you know," is his stock remark when anyone tries totalk business to him.
Even if he didn't wear gray spats and a wide ribbon on his eyeglasses,you'd spot him for a funny gink by the offset ears and the odd way hehas of carryin' his head a little to one side.
"What a queer-looking person!" whispers Vee.
"Wait until you hear him spring some of his nutty conversation," says I.
By this time the bell buzzes again, and Helma shows in a dumpy littlewoman with partly gray hair and Baldwin apple cheeks--evidently afriend of Auntie's by the way they go to a clinch.
"Mrs. Mumford," says Vee.
"Auntie's donation to the party, eh?" says I. "Just listen to her coo!"
"S-s-sh!" says Vee, snickerin'.
That's what it was, though--cooin'. Seems to be her specialty, too,for she goes bobbin' and bowin' around the room, makin' noises like aturtle-dove on a top branch.
"O-o-o-oh, Mr. Ellins!" says she. "So glad to know you. O-o-o-oh!"And she smiles and ducks her head and beams gushy on everyone in sight.
"How long can she keep that up on a stretch?" I asks Vee.
"Indefinitely," says Vee. "It's quite natural, you know. For, really,she's an old dear, but a bit tiresome. If she goes she will knit orcrochet the whole blessed time, no matter what happens. She crochetedall over Europe with us one summer. Fancy facing the Matterhorn andcounting stitches! But Mrs. Mumford did it."
"Then she'll be a great help on their cruise, I don't think," says I.
"Oh, but she will," says Vee. "You see, she always agrees witheverything Auntie says, and very few can do that. Well, here comesProfessor Leonidas Barr, too. You might know Auntie would want himalong."
"What's he luggin' his hat in for?" says I. "Don't he trust Helma?"
"It's because he's afraid he'll walk out without it," says Vee. "Buthe'll do that, anyway. And he leaves it in the weirdest places--underthe piano, in a vase, or back of the fire screen. We always have agrand hunt for the Professor's hat when he starts to go. But it's nowonder he forgets such trifles, when he knows so much about fishes. Hewrites books about 'em."
"He looks it," says I. "And, last but not least, we have arrivingCaptain Rupert Killam, who started all this trouble. My, but he takeslife serious, don't he?"
From where we sat in the library window alcove, we could get a fairview of the bunch up front, and I must say that the last thing in theworld you'd ever expect this collection to do would be to go cruisin'off after pirate gold. Here they were, though, gathered in Auntie'sdrawin'-room, and if the idea of the meetin' wasn't to hear detailsabout the trip, what was it?
I was expectin' Auntie to have the foldin' doors shut and an executivesession called; but she either forgot we was there, or else she was tooexcited to notice it, for the next thing we knew she was callin' on Mr.Ellins to state the proposition. Which he does in his usual crisp way.
"You have been asked," says he, "to go with us on a cruise to the westcoast of Florida. That is all you are supposed to know about it,according to Captain Killam's notion. But that's nonsense. I, forone, don't intend to keep up an air of mysterious secrecy for the nextthree or four weeks. As a matter of fact, we are going after hiddentreasure--pirate gold, buried jewels, all that sort of thing."
"O-o-o-oh!" coos Mrs. Mumford. "Doesn't that sound deliciouslyromantic?"
"Quixotic if you will," says Mr. Ellins. "But Mrs. Hemmingway andmyself, although we may not look it, are just that kind. We aredesperate characters, if the truth must be told. The only reason wehaven't hunted for buried treasure before is that we have lacked theopportunity. We think we have it now. Captain Killam, here, has toldus of an island on which is a buried pirate hoard--millions in gold,priceless jewels by the peck. And that's what we're going after."
"Most interesting, I'm sure," says Professor Barr, wipin' his glassesabsent-minded with a corner of Mrs. Mumford's shoulder scarf.
"But, I say," puts in J. Dudley Simms, "I'll not be any help atdigging, you know."
"Has anyone ever suspected you of being useful in any capacity?"demands Old Hickory.
"Oh, come!" protests Dudley. "I play a fair game of bridge, don't I?"
"Exception allowed," says Mr. Ellins. "And I may say, to quiet anysimilar fears, that the entire burden of the treasure hunt will beundertaken by Mrs. Hemmingway, the Captain, and myself. Incidentally,we expect to divide the spoils among ourselves. Aside from that, weask you to share with us the pleasure and perhaps the perils of thetrip."
"O-o-o-oh!" coos Mrs. Mumford, meanin' nothing at all.
"We have secured a good-sized, comfortable yacht," goes on Old Hickory."You will each have a stateroom, assigned by lot. Meal hours and themenu will be left to the discretion of a competent steward.
"We sail on Wednesday, promptly at 11 A.M. Just when we shall return Ican't say. It may be in a month, possibly two. You will need to dressfor the tropics--thin clothing, sun helmets, colored glasses, all thatsort of thing.
"And you need not be surprised to learn that the yacht is somewhatheavily armed. On the forward deck you will see something wrapped incanvas. To anticipate your curiosity I will state now that this is amachine for making and distributing poisonous gas, as our treasureisland is infested with rattlesnakes and mosquitos. It may also beuseful in discouraging anyone who tries to interfere with ourenterprise. Am I correct, Captain Killam?"
"Quite," says Rupert, noddin' his head solemn.
"And now," says Old Hickory, "having been thoroughly frank with you, Iask that this information be treated as confidential. Also, will anyof you who wish to reconsider your acceptan
ces kindly say so at once?How about you, Simms?"
"As you know, Ellins," says J. Dudley, "I am a timid, fearsome person.Do I understand that you three assume all responsibility, all risks?"
"Absolutely," says Mr. Ellins.
"Then here is an opportunity to indulge in vicarious adventure," saysDudley, "which I can't afford to miss. I'll go; but I shall expectwhen the time comes, Ellins, that you will conduct yourself in anutterly reckless manner, while I watch you through a porthole."
"And you, Professor?" goes on Mr. Ellins.
"If I can secure a specimen of the _rivoluta splendens_," saysLeonidas, "I shall gladly take any chances."
"Isn't the dear Professor just too heroic?" coos Mrs. Mumford. "Itwill be worth while going merely to see what a _rivoluta splendens_really is."
"We seem to be agreed," says Old Hickory, "and our company is made up.That is, with two exceptions."
"Great Scott!" I whispers to Vee. "Two more freaks to come!"
"Listen," says Vee. "Auntie is saying something."
So she is, a whole mouthful.
"My niece, Verona, will accompany me, of course," she announces.
"Well, ain't that rough!" says I. "Now what's the sense in draggin'you off down--"
"And I am obliged," breaks in Mr. Ellins, "to take with me, for purelybusiness reasons, my private secretary. Mrs. Hemmingway, isn't theyoung man somewhere about the place?"
"Good night!" I gasps. "Me!"
"Well, I like that!" says Vee, givin' me a pinch.
"Take it back," says I. "If it's a case of us goin', that's different.But what a bunch to go cruisin' with!"
And say, when I'm led out and introduced, I must have acted like I wasin a trance. I got it so sudden, you see, and so unexpected. Here I'dbeen sittin' back all the while and knockin' this whole thing as asquirrel-house expedition, besides passin' comments on the crowd; andthe next thing I know I'm counted in, with my name on the passengerlist.
That was two days ago; and while I've been movin' around lively enoughever since, windin' things up at the office, hirin' a wireless operatorfor Mr. Ellins, and layin' in a stock of Palm Beach suits and whitedeck shoes, I ain't got over the jolt yet.
"Say, Mr. Robert," says I, when no one else is around, "how long cananybody be seasick and live through it?"
"Oh, it is seldom fatal," says he. "The victims linger on and on."
"Hal-lup!" says I. "And I'll bet that roly-poly Mrs. Mumford comestwice a day to coo to me. What did I ever get let in on this privateseccing for, anyway?"