What Happened at Quasi: The Story of a Carolina Cruise

by George Cary Eggleston

  XXXVII

  TOM’S FINAL “FIND”

  “TOM,” said Cal, taking the Virginia boy by the hand and warmlygreeting him, “you have crowned this expedition—”

  “Oh, bother!” interrupted Tom. “You fellows are daffy. I’ve had thegood luck to find the deeds, but it was by sheer accident, and anybodyelse might have—”

  “But ‘anybody else’ didn’t, and that makes all the difference. Nowlisten. I have the floor. I have restrained my natural impulse to doall the talking lately until I’ve had to let out two holes in my belt.I was going to hurl my best speech at your head, but you interrupted,and now the graceful periods have slipped from memory’s grasp. I’llleave the task of adequate expression to my father. He’ll do it quiteas well as I can. But there’s one thing to which I must ask theattention of the company here assembled.”

  “What is it, Cal?” Dick asked.

  “Why, simply that Tom has added another to the purposes with which thisexpedition was undertaken. Our objects were sport and adventure. Wehave had both, and now Tom has added a third—achievement.”

  “That’s all very well,” answered Tom, “but we haven’t made theachievement yet. That will be when we deliver the deeds to your father,and not till then. And we’ll never, never do that unless you stop yournonsense and let us get to work on the catamaran, or raft, or whateverelse you call it. Our present job is to get away from Quasi with thegolden fleece. I suppose we ought to sleep now, but—”

  “But glue wouldn’t stick our eyelids together,” broke in Dick. “Work’sthe thing for us now. Let’s get at it. Oh, I say, Cal, what of thetides? When will they set in strongly toward that little town up there?”

  Cal reckoned the matter up and named the hours at which the young floodtides would begin to run. Then Dick thought a little and asked:

  “Is it all land-locked water from here to the town, or are thereopenings to the sea?”

  “All closely land-locked—all creeks,” Cal answered.

  “Then if we work hard we can have the catamaran ready by to-morrownoon—she won’t need to be much of a craft for such waters—and we canmake our start when the tide turns, about that time. Let’s see; thedistance is only ten or twelve miles, and the tide will run up for sixhours. That ought to take us there with no paddling or poling exceptenough to keep the craft headed in the right direction.”

  “We’ll do it,” declared Cal. “Now to work, all of us. Tell us what todo, Dick.”

  “Let one fellow make a lot of fresh torches,” the Boston boy answered.“The rest of us can keep busy till daylight dragging bamboos, big canestalks and the cross braces down to the shore. As soon as it is lightenough in the morning we’ll fashion the two larger timbers, and getthem into the water. After that two or three hours’ work will finishthe job.”

  “An excellent programme, so far as it goes,” muttered Cal, as if onlythinking aloud.

  “Go ahead, Cal, what’s lacking?”

  “Seems to me,” Cal responded, “that every member of this company is inthe habit of carrying a digestive apparatus somewhere about his person.That’s all.”

  “Right, Cal!” Larry broke in. “We must have breakfast and dinner,and I think I remember hearing that experienced navigator, RichardWentworth, say, once upon a time, that one should never venture uponsalt water without carrying a supply of provisions along.”

  “I humbly submit to the rebuke,” answered Dick, with a laugh. “It wasforgetfulness, but forgetfulness is never quite pardonable. Some onemust go for game immediately after breakfast. We have enough on handfor that meal.”

  “I delegate you to that task, Tom,” said Larry. “Your habit of findingthings may hasten the job.”

  * * * * *

  It was a little past noon when the company pushed away from Quasi onthe rude raft that served them for a ship, and were driven by thestrong flood tide through the maze of broad and narrow passages amongthe marsh islands that lay between them and the town on the mainland.

  There was some discussion before they left Quasi as to what they shoulddo with the rifle and other things in Dunbar’s log lockup.

  Larry settled the matter, saying:

  “We’ll leave his belongings just where he placed them. We are notlikely to find him now, and—”

  “And if he finds himself,” Tom broke in, “he’ll come to Quasi afterthem. Wonder where the poor fellow is, anyhow, and what’s the matterwith him.”

  Nobody could offer a conjecture that had not been discussed before, andso the subject was dropped in favor of more immediate concerns.

  * * * * *

  The tide ran strong, and Dick’s “palatial passenger craft,” as Tomcalled the raft, proved to be cork-like in its ability to float almostas fast as the tide itself flowed. About five o’clock the last ofthe marsh islands was passed, and the little town, perched upon highbluffs, appeared. As the raft neared it, Tom suddenly called out:

  “I’ve found something else! There’s the _Hunkydory_ riding at anchorin that little bay over yonder! Now, maybe the next find will be Mr.Dunbar.”

  While Larry was sending a telegram to his father, the others went tothe boat and with permission of the man in charge, examined it. Noaccident had happened to it and nothing about it gave the least hintthat Dunbar had merely abandoned it. The sail was neatly lashed to theboom; the mast and the rudder had been unshipped and bestowed in thebilge. Every rope was coiled and every pulley block ran free.

  More significant still was the fact that the lockers were all filledwith food stuffs.

  “Obviously he intended to return to Quasi,” Cal argued, “and laid insupplies for us as he had promised. Whatever happened to him must haveoccurred after that and just before the time he had set for sailing.Let’s go up into the town and see what we can learn about him.” Thenpausing, he turned to the man in charge of the boat and asked:

  “Has she been lying at anchor and taking the chance of rain all thistime?”

  “No,” the man answered. “She’s been in that there boat house, butto-day the squire tole me to anchor her out in the sun for an hour ortwo, an’ that’s what I’m a doin’.”

  On their way they met Larry, who had telegraphed his father both at theNorth and at Charleston, uncertain whether or not the earthquake hadhurried his home-coming. In his dispatches Larry had said:

  “Quasi deeds found by Tom Garnett, now in my possession and in perfectorder. Dory sails for Charleston immediately.”

  Two hours later there came two telegrams from Major Rutledge inCharleston, one of them addressed to Larry and the other to TomGarnett. The one to Larry sent congratulations and asked him to hurryhome as fast as he could. What was in Tom’s none of the boys everknew. Tom’s eyes were full of tears as he read it, though his facewas a gladly smiling one as he replaced the paper in its envelope andcarefully bestowed it in his pocket.

  While waiting for these dispatches the boys made diligent inquiriesconcerning Dunbar. He had arrived at the town about three o’clock onthe day of his leaving Quasi. He had intelligently addressed and postedhis manuscript and drawings. After that he had bought camping suppliesof every kind that the town could furnish, and had loaded them verycarefully into the dory. An hour later he had been found sitting undera big tree and seemingly in distress of some kind. He was unable totell who he was, in answer to inquiries. His mind seemed an absoluteblank. Papers found on his person gave a sufficient clue to hisidentity and the addresses of his nearest friends. Telegrams were sentto them, and as soon as possible they came and took the poor fellowaway with them, a magistrate meanwhile setting a deputy constable tocare for the boat and cargo till its owners should appear.

  The young doctor whom Dunbar’s friends brought with them explained tothe old doctor of the town that for many years past Dunbar had beenthe victim of a rather rare mental malady, causing occasional completelapses of memory.

  “This present attack,” he added, “is lasting longer than
usual. He hashitherto been allowed to roam at will, to live in the woods and pursuehis investigations. Now, however, I shall strongly advise his friendsto keep him under some small restraint for the sake of his own safety.”

  “That ends the Dunbar incident,” said Larry when the old doctorfinished his relation of the facts. “Now we must be off for Charleston.What do you say, boys? There’s a moon to-night and we might as well geta little start before it sets.”

  “My own judgment,” ventured Dick, “is that as we worked all of lastnight, we’d better stay here till morning and get some sleep. But ‘I’min the hands of my friends’ as the politicians say.”

  Dick’s suggestion was approved, and the sun was just rising the nextmorning when the _Hunkydory_ set sail. When the boys stepped ashore atthe Rutledge boathouse on the Ashley River, Major Rutledge was there togreet them.

  “We feared you boys might be in serious difficulty down at Quasi,” hesaid, warmly shaking hands all round for the second time, “and I wasabout setting out to rescue you, when Larry’s telegram came.”

  “We rescued ourselves, instead,” Cal replied; “and to us that is moresatisfactory.”

  “It is very much better,” answered the father, catching Cal’s meaningand heartily sympathizing with the proud sense of personal achievementthat lay behind.

  “Come on home now, and over a proper dinner tell your mother and me allabout what happened at Quasi.”

  THE END