Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam
Page 25
CHAPTER XXV.
THE DEAD MAN'S HOARD.
The "_Good Hope_!"
What a crowd of memories the name brought buzzing about the boy! Thelone derelict, the figure in the mouldering cabin, the--the plan in hispocket!
With fingers that trembled Rob drew out the solution of the cryptogramand read it over.
Then he held his head in his hands a moment to keep it from whirlinground.
Could it be possible that this was the island where the hoard ofcentury-old ivory was buried? Had he stumbled by a complete accidentupon the cache that had sent one man to his death?
Then he recalled that on his trip of exploration he had noticed a bigdead cypress on the other side of the island. But if this was theveritable island where the whalers had buried their ivory, why was theboat lying there mouldering on the beach? Why had they not left again?
The more the boy thought of it, the more mysterious and inexplicable thewhole thing became. He resolved to go back to the dead cypress andfollow the directions of the cryptic message of the captain of the _GoodHope_.
As has been said, the island was not a large one, and he was not long inreaching the gaunt, dead tree. Somehow he felt a chill go through him ashe stood beneath its leafless gray limbs. It reminded him oddly of thatskeleton in the deck house of the derelict.
But he pulled himself together and struck off into the woods in adirection that, by using his watch as a compass, he knew to be the west.The undergrowth was thick, but after going a few paces, he reached anopen space.
In the centre of this was a sight that made his heart jump and then beatwildly. Strewn in every direction were big tusks of yellow ivory,evidently lying just as they had been dug from the ground.
Rob was still contemplating them when his eye caught the flutter of arag of cloth at the edge of the open space. Attracted by a curiosity hecould not account for, he made his way toward it. If the sight of theivory had made him jump, what he now saw sent a chill of horror down hisspine. The rag that had fluttered had been part of the clothing of whathad once been two men.
Both lay close together, their bones showing where the cloth had wornaway under Time's finger. A pair of rusty pistols lying by each showedhow they had come to their death. The whole tragedy was as clear to Robas if he had seen it:--the quarrel between the two ivory stealers, theduel with the pistols, and the death of both combatants beside thetreasure pile they had done so much wickedness to acquire.
"Truly that figure in the deck house is avenged," thought Rob, gazingwith horror-stricken eyes at the things before him. "Death was indeedthe wages of sin in their case."
Turning from the grisly relics of that far-off duel on the lonelyisland, Rob fell to examining the ivory. There was a large quantity ofit.
"It must be worth an immense sum," he thought.
But in the very moment of his triumph, Rob suddenly recollected what, inhis excitement, he had entirely forgotten for the moment. He was acastaway on a strange, uninhabited island, with only a few tins of beefbetween him and starvation. Thirst he did not fear, for close to wherehe had struggled ashore was a spring of sweet, cool water.
Rob made his way back to the beach and the boat. Inside the boat he nownoticed what had hitherto escaped his attention. There were severalhundred feet of light rope which seemed to be still in fairly goodcondition. There was, too, a pair of oars. At the same moment the boywas seized by a sudden idea. He could get away from the island, and in aboat, too!
His Boy Scout training had made him fertile in ideas, and if the presentone succeeded it would mean his escape from a terrible fate.
+ + + + +
Ensign Hargreaves and Mr. Barr looked sternly at each other.
"There is only one man who could have taken that lever," said theensign.
"And that is who?"
"The rascal Barton."
"But for what possible object?"
"I cannot think unless he has hidden it and will only give it up as theprice of his liberty."
"But if he keeps us down here, he will die, too."
"He is playing his life against ours and he holds the cards."
"Not for long. Come below at once. We must act quickly. There is achance he still has it on his person."
Down the stairs they ran, leaving Merritt at the wheel with a sinkingfeeling of fear clutching at his heart. If Barton, turned desperate, hadhidden the key and would not reveal its hiding place, it meant that theymust remain in the depths till death put an end to their sufferings.
In the meantime, the ensign and Mr. Barr, both excited, had rushedthrough the cabin and toward the engine room. As they approached thedoor, it was slammed and a pistol thrust through a small hole in it,which had been cut for ventilation.
Then Barton's voice came ringing out:
"Don't come a step closer unless you want to get a bullet in you."
"What's the matter, man, are you mad?" exclaimed Mr. Barr.
A shriek of demoniacal laughter was the sole response.
It sent a shudder through everyone who heard it. The man was mad,violently insane. The seeds of lunacy, which had been germinating in hisbrain for a long time, had burst forth into a terrible harvest.
"And on that man everyone of our lives depends," breathed the ensign.
Then in a louder tone, which rang with authority:
"Barton, did you take that ascending lever?"
"Yes; ha-ha-ha! It's a good joke on you! You thought you'd put me inprison, but now we'll all die together."
"Barton," pleaded Mr. Barr, "be rational. Return that lever and youshall have immunity."
"It's too late now!" screamed the demented wretch. "We'll all dietogether in the depths of the sea, where dead men's bones rot and thefish eat their eyes out."
A hasty consultation followed between the ensign and Mr. Barr. The manwas undoubtedly violently insane, and there didn't seem a chance in theworld of dislodging him from his position.
The situation was the more serious from the fact that the fresh airdevices were not working properly and the air inside the submarine wasalready getting noticeably stale and foul.
"We must rush that door; it's our only chance," declared the officer ina whispered voice.
"But he is liable to shoot," objected Mr. Barr, eying the blued-steelmuzzle of the revolver which was pointed threateningly at them.
"It cannot be helped. It means death in a fearful form if we do notdislodge him from that position, and a man in his condition cannotlisten to reason."
"Well, what do you propose?"
"That you start talking to him to distract his attention, offer himmoney or anything to give up the lever. Then I'll watch my chance andrush in on him; thank goodness, that door has no lock on it."
"Barton!" said Mr. Barr, in a resonant voice.
"Well?" snarled the lunatic.
"Be calm now and listen to reason. Is it money you wish?"
"No, blood! Human lives!" shrieked the maniac.
At precisely that instant, like a projectile from a gun the ensign'spowerful body shot forward. Crash came his solid one hundred andeighty-five pounds against the door.
At the same instant there was another crash, the sharp crack of arevolver! In that confined space it sounded terribly loud.
"He's shot him!" cried Mr. Barr.
But Barton had done nothing of the kind. The attack had been utterlyunexpected by him, and as the door banged against him with terrificforce, he had been knocked down. As he fell the revolver exploded;before he could pull the trigger a second time the powerful youngofficer of Uncle Sam's Navy was upon the man. Barton fought like awildcat, and with the superhuman strength of those afflicted withinsanity.
At last, however, he was overpowered and, raving incoherently, was tiedhand and foot and carried out to the cabin where he was placed on alounge. Mr. Barr, who knew something of medicine, gave him a calmingdose from the submarine's medicine chest, and he became less violent.
"Barton
, where did you put that lever?" demanded the ensign.
The man whimpered like a child.
"I--I don't remember," he gasped out.
Consternation showed on every face. Already the air was getting worseand worse.
The ensign bent over the bound man, who was now crying weakly.
"You must remember, man. You must, I say!" he snapped, in tones that cutlike the crack of a whip. "Think! think! our lives depend upon it!"
"If I knew, I would tell you," murmured the man; "but I don't. I don'tremember."
A stillness like death itself settled on the occupants of the cabin.Barton had accomplished his insane purpose only too well, it seemed.