CHAPTER V
CAPTAIN FENLICK
A little while later they entered the store the rich young man had mentioned and asked about the lost book. The proprietor of the shop shook his head.
“Haven’t seen it.”
“It was a small, square book, bound in a red cover,” said Bob.
The man scratched his head.
“’Pears to me I did see that book,” he said slowly. “A man was in right after you and he had some kind of a red covered book when he went out.”
“What kind of a looking man was it?” asked Barry.
“He looked like a seafaring man, and was dressed in a suit of blue with a blue cap to match.”
“Do you know his name?”
“No, he was a stranger to me,” answered the shopkeeper.
“Do you know where he went?”
“Down toward the docks, I imagine. I took a walk afterward and saw him in that neighborhood.”
No more could be learned of the book or the man, and Barry and Bob left the store.
“Let us take a look around the docks,” said the young owner of the Arrow.
The docks were soon gained and they gradually got back to the Arrow. As they approached the steam yacht Bob uttered a cry.
“There is a man in a blue suit now!”
“Where?”
“Just went on board of your yacht.”
Bob was right, and as they came up the stranger introduced himself as Captain Richard Fenlick.
“I used to run the Mohawk for Lincoln Vanderbilt,” said Captain Fenlick. “But the yacht was run down by an ocean steamer and so badly damaged they are not going to repair her, so I’m out of a job. I heard that you wanted a new captain.”
“I do,” answered Barry, for his old commander had retired to his home on Staten Island.
“Then perhaps we can come to terms. I know all about a craft like this—have run such yachts for years for some of the best families.”
“Well, I want a man who will take a long trip,” answered Barry, without stopping to think twice. “A trip almost to the South Pole.”
“The South Pole!” cried the stranger. “Why, I——” And then he stopped short.
“Did you pick up a book with some writings in it about the South Pole?” broke in Bob.
Captain Fenlick hesitated and his face changed color.
“No—that is—no,” he said, slowly.
“I lost such a book,” said Barry, eyeing the captain sharply.
“And what makes you think I picked the book up?” was the uneasy answer.
“Because somebody picked it up who was dressed as you are dressed, down in Radway’s store.”
“I don’t know anything of the store you mention.”
While the captain was speaking Bob had been eyeing his coat closely. There was a square bulge outside, over an inner pocket. The boy stepped closer.
“I would like to know what is in that pocket,” he said boldly, and at the same time drew the coat open. The top of the red-bound book was plainly revealed.
“Hi! stop!” cried Captain Fenlick savagely. “What do you mean by touching me?”
“You give up that book,” answered Bob, angrily. “It belongs to me. I didn’t like your look the minute I clapped eyes on you.”
“That’s the book,” put in Barry, “and you must give it up.”
At once Captain Fenlick began to fume, and then he tried to back away. But both Bob and Barry held him, and in the end he was forced to give the book up.
“Now you’ve got the book, I reckon I can take myself off,” muttered the captain.
“We ought to have you arrested,” was Barry’s comment.
“What for? I didn’t steal the book. I found it in the doorway of the store you mentioned.”
“But you were going to keep it, after you knew it belonged to us,” said Bob. “I think you’re a bad egg.”
“Shut up!” roared the captain. “I guess you don’t want to hire me to run your steam yacht for you.”
“Not much!” retorted Barry. “You get out as fast as you can, and don’t you ever let me catch sight of you near my boat.”
“Humph! You think you’re on top, but some day it may be my turn,” growled Fenlick, and with a sour scowl on his dark face he leaped to the dock and walked swiftly toward the street. Barry and Bob watched him out of sight.
“He’s a rascal if ever there was one,” was the comment of the young yacht owner.
“We want to keep our eyes open for him,” returned Bob. “He’ll make trouble for us if he can. It’s too bad that he picked up the book. I wonder if he read the contents.”
“I don’t see how he could have had time, Bob.”
“But if he didn’t know the book was valuable why did he deny having it? If he had given it up at once it might have gotten him the job he was after.”
“True enough. But still I don’t believe he did more than glance at the book,” answered Barry.
But for once the young yacht owner was mistaken.
Immediately after finding the book Captain Fenlick had repaired to a near-by saloon, and there read its contents carefully while seated at a table drinking several glasses of liquor.
He had seen at once the importance of his discovery and he had wondered if it would be possible for him to interest anybody in an expedition south in search of the lost treasure ship.
He had been thinking of such an expedition when he had applied to Barry for a position, and the sudden turn of affairs had dazed him.
“I made a mess of it there,” he muttered to himself as he stole off. “But I’ll keep track of those two young fellows, and perhaps sooner or later something will turn up in my favor. I’m not going to let such a chance for money slip by—not much!”