CHAPTER XXIX.
THE ONE FELLOW WHO WAS LEFT YET.
During the morning, Mr. Berkeley and Phil were busily engaged in farm affairs with Jenny’s father and Joel. Chap had thought of going home, but Mr. Berkeley had urged him not to break up the family party so soon, and Mr. Muller remained until he should have an opportunity of entering upon his own business.
Chap was delighted when he saw the man with the black straw hat sitting alone under one of the trees on the lawn, but it cannot be truthfully said that the heart of Mr. Muller leaped very high for joy when he saw the long-legged boy striding down upon him.
“What about that wreck?” said Chap. “I’ve been just aching for a chance to speak to you. We ought to go right to work. It won’t do to let this family slide back again into misery the very minute they’ve got a little hoist out of it. From what I can make out, there’ll be lots of money wanted yet. And that wreck has got to be bounced out of the mud in short order. I suppose you are all ready to pitch right in. Have you told Mr. Berkeley what you’re here for?”
“Well, no,” said Mr. Muller, “I haven’t yet. There has been no time. And I am sure there is no hurry about that wreck. It has been in the mud a long time, and it will wait there till we want it.”
“No, it won’t,” cried Chap. “No, it won’t. There isn’t a night but I tremble for that wreck. That French boy knows all about it, and you can’t tell when he and his father will come up the river in a boat, with divers and submarine armor, and they’ll have a hole cut in the side of that ship, and all the treasure-boxes taken out, before we know a thing about it.”
“That would be bad, indeed,” said Mr. Muller, “but I don’t see how it is to be prevented, unless a guard is kept up on the river-bank.”
“Prevented!” cried Chap. “The way to prevent their doing it is to do it ourselves—slam-bang! without waiting a minute longer than we can help.”
Mr. Muller did not know what reply to make to his enthusiastic companion.
“Suppose we go and look at this wreck,” he said, after a moment’s thought.
This suited Chap exactly, and without further ado the two proceeded to the river-bank. The tide was not very low, and only the extreme ends of the exposed ribs of the treasure-ship could be seen.
“She is pretty well covered up,” remarked Mr. Muller.
“You can see more of her at low tide,” said Chap, “but we don’t care anything about that part of the ship. That is the bow, and most likely there is nothing in it but sailors’ clothes and such stuff.”
“Which would be dreadfully old-fashioned now,” remarked Mr. Muller.
“The part we want to get at,” continued Chap, “is the stern, which is out there in deep water, and never can be seen at all. The treasure would, very naturally, be in that part of the ship.”
“Quite likely,” said Mr. Muller, “but it is frightful to think of its being out there in deep water.”
“Yes,” said Chap, “and, what is more, one side of it must be jammed against the shore, and pretty well covered up with mud.”
“The channel must come quite near the bank in this part of the river,” said Mr. Muller.
“Oh, yes,” replied Chap, “a good stone’s-throw from where we stand it is deep enough to float anything. Down below here, near the place where the Thomas Wistar was run ashore,—they’ve towed her off now,—it’s shallow ever so far out, and it’s pretty much the same thing above.”
Mr. Muller looked about the place where he was standing, and seemed to be considering something.
“Well,” said Chap, impatiently, “what do you say? Are you ready to go right ahead with this thing? You may think it is none of my business, but I’ve been pushing on the affair for ever so long, and I want to be on hand when anything is done.”
“I have no doubt you will be,” said Mr. Muller,—“no doubt of it at all. But I really cannot counsel immediate action in this matter. A great many things have to be considered first. I think we had better let the subject drop for the present.”
“All right!” said Chap. “Drop her!”
And, without another word, he marched off, leaving Mr. Muller standing on the river-bank.
Disgusted with human beings, especially with the man in the black straw hat, Chap walked directly home.
“I did think,” he said to himself, “that when I got to work with a man something would be done; but men are just as pokey and shilly-shallying as boys. But there is one fellow left yet!” he continued, giving himself a bold slap on the chest; and, with a stern and determined mind, the one fellow who was left yet strode rapidly home.
In the course of a few days Mr. Berkeley made arrangements by which he procured the money to refund to the three boys the amount they had received from the owners of the Thomas Wistar. Phil declared he did not want his share, but his uncle insisted he should take it. It had been fairly earned by his own exertions, and he must keep it. The sum was accordingly handed over to Mr. Welford to be invested in Phil’s name.
“What are you going to do with your money?” asked Chap, the first time he met Phœnix after the distribution.
“We have been talking the matter over a great deal at our house,” said the stout Phœnix, “and I haven’t made up my mind whether I’ll put my money into land or into education.”
“The whole of it into one of them?” eagerly asked Chap.
“Yes,” said Phœnix. “Mother wants me to go to college; but father says if I buy a piece of land down below our place, and get it ditched, and put into grass, and cleared up, it will be a valuable property by the time I am married.”
“Married!” cried Chap, in accents of scorn. “Think of a fellow waiting to get the good of his money till he is married!”
“From what I have heard the folks say,” said Phœnix, “I should think that would be the best time to get the good of it. But I don’t know that I’ll put my money into land. I may switch off into a straight-out education. Mother says that is better than any property. What are you going to do with yours?”
“Well,” said Chap, “a part of mine is to be put into stocks, along with Phil’s. That is what they all thought was the best thing to do with it for the present. But there’s a certain lot of it I’m going to keep for my own square, particular, and not-to-be-talked-about purposes, and no questions asked or answered.”
“All right,” said Phœnix, “nobody is asking any.”
The next day Chap made a visit to the city, and spent the whole day there. He paid his own way. It was vacation time, and no one interfered with him.
On his return he was asked a good many questions, especially by Helen, but answered none. For several days he spent a good deal of time away from home, but he did not go to Hyson Hall, nor did Phœnix see anything of him.
Mr. Berkeley was not long in making up his mind not to return to his hut in the woods; but, although his affairs demanded his attention at home, he determined to continue the study of law, for he was not too old to achieve success in this profession, and he felt he ought to devote his life to something for which he was better suited than scientific farming.
A small room in the third story was fitted up as his study. His books and papers were taken there, and strict orders were given that during certain hours in the day he was not to be disturbed on any pretext.
It was much easier to observe these orders than it would have been before the time in which our story began; for now John Morgan—Jenny’s father—was regularly installed as farmer and general manager on the Hyson Hall estate, while Joel was retained as his assistant.
Phil was much pleased with the new arrangement, and listened with great interest to all the plans which were discussed.
This pleased Mr. Berkeley, for he wanted Phil to like a country life, and to understand better than he had ever done how to manage with comfort and profit an estate like Hyson Hall.
It may be here remarked that Emile never came to Boontown to stand his trial. His father thought it prudent to send him to France on business, and his bail was forfeited.
The man with the black straw hat had some time since told his business and gone away. He had come to Hyson Hall to try to induce Mr. Berkeley to build a town. This seemed like a vast enterprise to suggest to a private gentleman, but Mr. Muller had studied the subject for a long time, and had very clear and definite ideas about it.
He was quite ready to prove that it would be an easy thing for Mr. Berkeley to have a small town on his property, if the work should be begun in the way which he (Mr. Muller) recommended. It was plain enough that a town was needed in this locality. The people living along the river for several miles below had to go to Boontown for their groceries and other merchandise, and their crops and produce had to be hauled to that place to be shipped to the city and other points.
Moreover, a little town or village on this beautiful part of the river-bank would attract people who would like to have a rural home not too far from the city. Nothing of this kind was offered at Boontown. That place was not attractive, and its river-front was particularly disagreeable.
If Mr. Berkeley would lay out his land along the river in building lots, and buy, perhaps, some adjoining tracts, and then build a wharf, so that the steamboats could stop there, and put up a store, the thing would be begun, and the place would then grow of itself. Mr. Muller was ready to stock and take charge of the store. That was in his line of business.
Mr. Berkeley listened with great attention to the long discourse of his visitor, and then remarked that the idea was not a new one, and had been seriously thought of before.
His father had greatly desired to have a small settlement on his place, and had gone so far as to put up a wharf, so that people could come up here by boat and look at the property, and the produce of the surrounding country could be shipped from this point. But the first steamboat that stopped there struck on a sunken wreck, that lay not far from the wharf, and old Mr. Berkeley had to pay for the damages done to her. Disgusted with this, he had had the wharf taken down, and the piles pulled up, for fear that some other steamboat would make a stop, and more damages would have to be paid.
“But could not a wharf be built farther out, or at some other point?” asked Mr. Muller.
“There is no other point suitable for a steamboat-landing on my property,” said Mr. Berkeley. “The channel makes a bend inland here, and above and below the water is shallow for some distance out; besides it would be very expensive to build a wharf into the deep water beyond the sunken wreck. It is not the part that you may see sticking out of the mud that is dangerous,” he continued. “It is another portion of the vessel which is sunk in the channel, but not far from the bank. The condition of my fortune does not warrant me in removing this wreck, which has been there so long that it has probably become a part of the bank. You see, therefore, that as it is impossible for us to have a steamboat wharf here at present, it is useless to talk of starting a town.”
Thus the matter was disposed of, and Mr. Muller discovered that although he had not had the slightest idea of the fact when he told Chap the story of the three brothers, the sunken ship had, after all, very much to do with his business at Hyson Hall.