Long after they were snoring I sat in the moonlight thinking of our strange adventures of the past twenty-four hours; the recovery of the gold, the destruction of the robbers, and our present means of release from the dangerous pinnacle that had threatened to hold us fast prisoners. And I realized, with a grateful heart, that I owed all of my good fortune and narrow escapes to the faithful black men, and made a vow that I would never in the future forget the services they had rendered.
Meantime there had been much excitement and confusion in the camp when it was discovered that several of the men, including Nux and Bry, and even “the boy Sam,” had disappeared during the night with most of the gold dust that had been accumulated.
I can relate fairly well what occurred, for I heard the story often enough afterward.
The Major was furious with rage, at first, and sent at once for Uncle Naboth, whom he accused of being at the bottom of the plot to rob him.
Mr. Perkins was so full of his own anxieties that he paid little attention to the red-bearded giant’s ravings.
“I’m afraid Sam’s in trouble,” he said, nervously.
“In trouble! You bet he is,” yelled the Major, “I’ll skin him alive when I catch him.”
“That’s the point,” answered Uncle Naboth. “How are we to find him again? I’ll risk your hurting the boy, if we can only find out where they’ve taken him.”
“Your niggers are gone, too,” the Major reminded him.
“That’s the only thing that gives me hope, sir,” retorted my Uncle. “Those black men are as faithful and honest as any men on earth, and I’m thinking they’re gone after Sam to try to rescue him.”
“Then you think he’s been kidnapped, do you?”
“Of course. The men that are missing are the worst of your lot—the ones that have caused you the most trouble in every way. There’s not a man from the ‘Flipper’s’ crew among them. The way I figure it out is that Daggett, Larkin, Hayes and Judson have made a plot to steal all the gold, and escape with it. They robbed you first, and then they robbed Sam, and when the boy tried to make a fuss they just kidnapped him and took him along with them.”
“How about the niggers?” asked the Major, sarcastically.
“That puzzles me, I’ll admit,” acknowledged my Uncle. “Bry and Nux may have seen the thieves get away with Sam, and followed after them, to try to rescue him. That’s the only way I can figure it out just now. But we’re losing time, Major. What’s to be done?”
“Two things. Get back the gold, and shoot down the robbers like dogs. They can’t get away, you know. They’re somewhere on this Island, and I mean to find them.”
“There’s the ship.”
“What of it?”
“If they get aboard and sail away we’ll be in a bad box.”
“How can they get aboard? We’ve got the small boats.”
“They can make a raft, or even swim out to the ship,” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly, “I tell you, Major, you’re wasting time. Why don’t you do something?”
The Major glanced at him as if undecided whether to be angry with him or not. But Mr. Perkins was undoubtedly right, and the miners were gathering outside the door with curses and threats against the men who had robbed them, for the news had quickly spread throughout the camp.
So their leader sent six men, heavily armed, in the ship’s long-boat to board the “Flipper” and protect the vessel from being captured. These were all his own men, for he still suspected that the “Flipper’s” crew were in some way implicated in the theft.
Then he picked four miners and four of the sailors to form a party to search for the robbers, and decided to lead the band himself and to take Uncle Naboth with him. The rest of the men were ordered to resume their work of washing out gold.
“I’m going to trust you, Perkins,” said the Major, “for your loss is as great as ours, and you seem anxious over that boy of yours. But if I meet with any treachery I’ll shoot you on the spot; and if I find that Sam Steele is one of the thieves I’ll show him no mercy, I promise you.”
“Quite satisfactory, sir,” answered Uncle Naboth, calmly. “Only let us get started as soon as possible.”
It was a puzzle at first to know in which direction to look for the fugitives; but Ned Britton had been carefully inspecting the edge of the forest, and came upon one of the paths Daggett had made in the course of his various wanderings inland. It was not the one we had taken, but away they started through the thicket, on a false scent, and the entire day was consumed in a vain search.
As they sat over their camp fire at evening Ned proposed that they try the other side of the island the following day.
“It’s there where the ship lies anchored, sir,” he told the Major; “and it’s most likely the men are in that neighborhood. The paths we’ve been following today are old trails that lead nowhere in particular, and there’s no use going any further in this direction.”
This proposition was so sensible that the Major at once agreed to it, and daybreak saw them tramping through the tangled underbrush toward the opposite side of the Island. Britton, who had a good sense of direction and knew about where the ship lay, undertook to guide them, and was fortunate enough to strike the trail of the robbers about the middle of the afternoon. The tracks lay directly toward the beach, and they pressed on with renewed vigor; but the heat was terribly oppressive in the more open country they had now reached, and the men were all exhausted by the long tramp. When, a little later, the sky grew black and the storm burst upon them, they withdrew to a thick grove of trees and rigged up a temporary shelter with their blankets, beneath which they passed the night.
The storm raged all around them, and occasionally the crash of a fallen tree startled their nerves; but the high cliff broke the force of the wind and the lightning was less severe than it was directly on the coast.
Uncle Naboth thought of me more than once during this rage of the elements, and hoped I was safe from harm; indeed, his anxiety was so great that he scarcely closed his eyes throughout the night.
At daybreak they left their shelter and gazed wonderingly at the scene of devastation around them. The storm had wrought fearful havoc everywhere, and when they resumed their journey their progress was necessarily slow and difficult.
Still they labored on, and in the afternoon passed through the forest and came upon the coast directly opposite the place where the “Flipper” still rode at anchor under bare masts. She seemed to have escaped all danger from the storm, and although the sea was still rolling high the good ship nodded her prow to each wave with a grace that betokened she was still in good condition.
“Well, boys, the robbers haven’t got her yet!” cried Uncle Naboth, delightedly.
“No; but they’ve had a try for it already,” said the Major, significantly, as he pointed to a half-finished raft that had been lifted high by the waves of the previous night and wedged fast between two great trees. “Evidently the scoundrels don’t know we have sent a squad to guard the ship.”
“We’re on their trail, all right,” remarked Ned Britton, after examining the crudely constructed raft carefully. “But where do you suppose they are?”
“Somewhere on the coast, of course,” said Uncle Naboth. “Let’s walk up the edge of the bay to the inlet, and see if they’re in that direction.”
So they made for the inlet, failing, of course, to find any traces of the thieves. They were seen from the deck of the “Flipper” by the men who had been sent aboard in the long boat, and the Major signaled them to remain where they were for the present.
After a brief halt the little band retraced their steps to examine the coast in the other direction, and another night overtook them within hailing distance of the rocky peak where I and my two blacks were resting beside our newly acquired bridge to await impatiently the morning. But the Major’s party was, of course, unaware of this, and went into camp in a hollow where the light of their fire was unobserved by us.
At daybreak, however, Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton were up and anxiously exploring the coast; and presently they saw, a little distance away, the tall form of Bryonia walking carefully across our tree trunk. The black almost fell into the arms of Uncle Naboth, as he stepped off the tree and the old man’s first anxious question was:
“Where’s Sam?”
“Here I am, Uncle!” I called from my rock. “I’ll be with you in a minute, but we’ve got to get the gold over first.”
“The gold!” cried Uncle Naboth, in amazement. “Have you got it, then, after all?”
“To be sure,” said I, with a touch of pride, “every grain of it!”
Uncle Naboth groaned.
“I didn’t think as you’d do it, Sam, my boy,” he said regretfully.
“I couldn’t have done it, without Nux and Bry,” I answered, not understanding that I had been accused of the theft.
The old man turned reproachfully to Bry, who stood grinning beside him.
“Did I ever teach you to steal, sir?” he demanded, sternly.
“Takin’ gold from robbers ain’t stealin’,” replied the black, in a calm tone.
“What robbers?”
“Daggett, an’ Pete, an’——”
“Oh, I see!” exclaimed Uncle Naboth, a light breaking in upon his confused mind. “They stole the gold from the camp, I suppose, and you and Sam have followed them up, and got it back again?”
“That’s it, exactly, Uncle!” I declared from my side of the precipice, where I could hear every word spoken. “I’ll tell you the whole story bye and bye.”
Just then I was wondering if I dared cross the tree. It seemed very frail, and the rounded trunk was difficult to walk upon. Should I lose my balance there were only a few slender branches to cling to in order to keep from toppling over into the gulf below.
Bry saw my dilemma, however, and running lightly across the tree again he caught me up bodily and perched me upon his broad shoulders.
“Hold fast, Mars Sam,” he called, and the next moment stepped out fearlessly and, while Uncle Naboth held his breath in grim suspense, the black crossed the swaying tree and dropped me safely on the other side.
The old man had barely time to grasp both my hands in a warm clasp when the big Major came up, blowing and sputtering, with the balance of the party.
“Well, where’s the rest o’ the thieves?” he cried out, glaring fiercely at me and then at Bry.
“Under that rock, sir,” I answered gravely, with a shudder at the recollection of their dreadful punishment; and then, in as few words as possible, I told the story of our adventures, relating how we had followed the robbers and recovered the gold, and of the great storm that had sent the rocking-stone hurling into the chasm to seal up the evil band in a living tomb.
Even the Major was impressed by the weird tale, and Uncle Naboth wiped the sweat from his brow as he leaned over the cliff and marked the immense wedge of rock that had closed forever the mouth of the cavern.
“It seems there’s no one left to punish,” growled the red-beard, in a low voice; “and I’m glad the fate of those scoundrels was taken out of my hands. As for you, young man,” turning suddenly to me, “you’ve acted splendidly, an’ so have the niggers. Let’s shake hands all ’round!”
I felt my face turn as red as the Major’s whiskers at this unexpected praise.
“Hooray!” yelled Ned Britton, and the others joined him in a mighty shout of approval.
Then Ned and Bry crossed the tree to where Nux was still standing on the peak, and hoisted the loaded trousers to Bryonia’s back. Nux crossed over in front and Ned Britton behind the bearer of the precious gold, to save him if he made a misstep; but their caution was unnecessary. The big Sulu was as sure-footed as a goat, and safely deposited his burden at the Major’s feet. Then we all returned to the near-by camp for breakfast, after which, the gold being taken from the trousers and distributed into several small packages, that they might be more easily carried, Nux was given his leg-coverings again, to his infinite satisfaction.
“And now,” said the Major, “we’ll make tracks for the camp. We’ve been away a long time, but we’ve got the gold back, and got rid of the worst characters among the lot of us; so there’s nothing much to grumble over, after all.”
Perhaps it was only natural that I should become the hero of the miners when the camp was at last reached and the men learned the strange story of our recovery of the gold. Nux and Bry also came in for a good share of praise, which they well deserved, and it seemed as if the adventure had established a permanent good feeling between the gold seekers and our crew of the “Flipper.” There was no more suspicion on either side, and when the Major made a new division of the recovered gold he generously insisted that I should receive even more than I had been robbed of, for my share. Whatever the Major’s faults might be, he was certainly liberal in his dealings with others, and Uncle Naboth was greatly pleased with the profitable result of an adventure that had at first threatened to ruin the fortunes of the firm of Perkins & Steele.
No one mourned very much over the death of the men who had stolen the gold; on the contrary, there was a feeling of general relief that the four desperadoes were unable to cause any more trouble. Therefore the camp resumed its former routine, and the miners set to work with renewed vigor to wash out the golden grains from the rich sands of the inlet.
It was about this time that the grave and reserved Captain Gay proved himself to be a genius, and by an act of real cleverness that crowned his name with glory materially shortened the stay of our entire community on the island.
The Captain had worked side by side with the common sailors, for the Major showed no favoritism, and insisted that every able-bodied man should perform his share of the work. Even Uncle Naboth had from the first day of our capture toiled from morning till night; but he accepted his tasks with rare good nature, and frequently confided to me, in his droll way, that his enforced labor had added ten years to his life.
“I was gettin’ altogether too chunked and fat,” he said one evening, “and likely enough I’d ’a’ been troubled sooner or later with apoplexy or dropsical. But now I’ve lost twenty or thirty pounds weight, an’ feel as lively as a cricket in a hornet’s nest. Work’s a good thing, Sam. I’m glad the Major made me do it. Probably he’s saved my life by his cussedness.”
Captain Gay had been working at the upper end of the inlet near to the place where a slender mountain stream fell from a precipice above and mingled its fresh water with that of the inlet. This stream fell upon a rocky bottom, but in course of years it had worn a bowl-shaped hollow in the rock, which could be distinctly observed through the transparent water.
“There ought to be a lot of gold in that hollow,” Ned Britton had remarked to the Captain one day. “I’ve an idea all the gold we find in the sands of the inlet has been brought here by the mountain streams.”
“I’ve been thinking that, myself,” answered the Captain; but it was a week later that he climbed the rock and followed the bent of the stream for nearly a mile, marking carefully the lay of the land.
The next morning he went to the Major with his plan, which was nothing less than a proposal to turn the stream from its bed, several hundred yards above, and let it follow a new course and reach the inlet a hundred feet distant from its present fall.
The Major stared thoughtfully at the Captain for a time, and then followed him up the stream and made a careful examination of the territory. The result was an order for all the seamen of the “Flipper” to place themselves at the disposal of Captain Gay and obey his orders.
In three days they had built a dam of rocks and brushwood nearly across the stream, and pried away the banks in another place to allow the water to escape by the new channel.
The fourth day the opening was closed in the dam, and the stream plunged away on its new course, leaving its former bed practically dry.
Immediately the men ran down to the inlet, where the Major himself waded to the hollow caused by the previous fall of water and dipped a pan of sand from the cavity. Upon examination it proved richer in gold than any of us had anticipated, the sands containing many small nuggets which, being heavier than the grains of metal, had been accumulating for many years in the basin.
All hands were set to work in this locality, and inspired by the rich harvest that rewarded their toil, they labored early and late, until the bags of dust and nuggets had become so numerous that even the Major was filled with amazement.
But this was not all that was gained by turning the mountain stream from its bed. In several hollows up above Captain Gay discovered rich deposits of small nuggets that were secured with ease, and two weeks later the Major called a meeting of all the members of the party on the sands before his tent.
“Boys,” said he, “we’ve got enough to make every one of us rich for life. What’s the use of staying here longer? I’m getting homesick, for one, and a good many of you are longing to get back to the States and begin spending your piles. What do you say—shall we board the ship and go home?”
“Yes!” they yelled, without a dissenting voice.
“Then,” said the Major, “tomorrow we’ll divide the spoils, so that every man has his honest share; and then we’ll pay our passage money to Mr. Perkins and sail away home.”
The division was accomplished with very little dissatisfaction or friction, for the worst elements in our assorted company had been removed, and the Major was absolutely just in his decisions. One or two, to be sure, grumbled that the provisions from the “Flipper” had been purchased at too high a price, or that too much of the gold was set aside to pay for the passage back to San Francisco; but not one objected when the Major set aside three heavy bags of gold to reward Captain Gay for his clever feat in turning the mountain stream.
When Uncle Naboth and I, in the seclusion of my hut, had figured out our share of the profits, the old man was hugely delighted.
“My partner!” he exclaimed, slapping his thigh with enthusiasm, “it’s paid us better than three trips to Alaska! We’ve nearly made our fortunes, Sam, my boy, and if we get safe home again we can thank the Major for making us his prisoners.”
It did not take our party long to transfer all their possessions to the decks of the “Flipper,” where the ship’s carpenter and part of the crew had been sent beforehand to clear up the rigging, ship a new rudder, and make some repairs that had been rendered necessary by the storm that had driven us to this strange island.
To my own inexperienced eyes the damage had been so great that it seemed as if the sailors would require weeks in which to make the vessel fit to put to sea again; so that I was astonished, when I went aboard, to note how quickly the task had been accomplished. Indeed, the “Flipper” seemed as trim and staunch as when she last sailed out of the Golden Gate, and doubtless she was fully able to bear us all safely home again.
All our party having been put aboard, together with their property, Captain Gay ordered the anchors hoisted, and at eleven o’clock on the morning of September 16th, the “Flipper” headed out to sea before a fair breeze.
The quarters aft had been given up to the miners, most of whom were obliged to swing hammocks in the cabin. The mate offered his little room to the Major and bunked with the sailors in the forecastle; but Captain Gay and Mr. Perkins retained their own rooms, and so did I, in order to watch over the firm’s gold, which was stowed carefully away in my lockers. You may be sure I was glad to get back to my books and my comfortable bed again, and overjoyed to find myself on the way to a more civilized land.
As the ship stood out to sea, the Major, who had been pacing the deck with a thoughtful brow, noticed Captain Gay taking his bearings with the aid of the sextant, while I stood by observing him. At once the big man’s countenance cleared, and he strode over to us and anxiously watched the Captain while the latter made notes of his observations. Several of the miners likewise seemed interested, but it was evident they did not understand in the least what the Captain was doing.
No sooner, however, had Captain Gay returned to his cabin, where at his request I followed him, than the Major knocked for admittance, and being invited to enter he cautiously closed the door after him and said:
“You’ve relieved me of a great worry, Captain. I was afraid we’d never be able to find this island again. But the sextant gives you the latitude and longitude, doesn’t it?”
Captain Gay nodded, and looked thoughtfully out of his little window at the fast receding island.
“That island’s mine,” continued the Major, in a stern voice; “and I shall claim it until some one else proves a better right to the place.”
Still the Captain made no reply.
The Major stared at him as though he had just discovered the man.
“Does any one else aboard know how to use those instruments?” he finally asked.
“No one,” answered the Captain, briefly.
“Then the secret is safe with us,” resumed the Major. “I’ll just trouble you, my good fellow, to give me the exact latitude and longitude of the island. I’ll mark them down in my note-book.”
“Come to me tomorrow noon,” said Captain Gay.
“Why tomorrow noon?” with a sudden frown.
“Can’t you understand? Don’t you know it requires hours to figure out so complicated a problem?”
“Oh, does it?”
A nod.
“Well, I’ll come in tomorrow. But understand, not a word of the true reckoning to a soul on board. Not even to Perkins or the boy here, who has no business to be listening to this conversation, and had better forget it. The island is mine!”
Captain Gay sat silent; merely drumming with his fingers on the little table before him. The Major gave him another curious look and stalked away, whistling softly to himself, as if something had occurred to puzzle him. Indeed, the Captain’s face was so set and stern that it made me uncomfortable, and I soon left him and returned to my own room.
The “Flipper” made good time during the afternoon, and before darkness fell those on board saw the island where they had labored so hard and endured so much, gradually sink into the sea and disappear.
The breeze held all through the night, and daybreak found the sturdy ship plowing steadily onward over the waste of gray waters. The sailors had fallen into their usual routine and performed their labors with mechanical precision, while the miners lay around the deck and watched them with the interest landsmen usually show when on a sailing ship.
At the stroke of twelve I saw the Major promptly approach the Captain’s room, where I knew the seaman was busily engaged in writing.
Wishing to learn the result of this second interview I crept forward and without hesitation established myself beside the door, which the red-beard had carelessly left ajar. I even ventured to peer curiously through the opening; but neither of the men observed my intrusion.
The Major for a moment stood staring with the same wondering gaze he had bestowed on Captain Gay the day before; but suddenly his face brightened and he said:
“By Jupiter! I’ve struck it at last!”
“Struck what?” asked the Captain, looking up.
“The resemblance that bothered me. You’re the living image of that man Daggett, who caused us that trouble on the island. It’s a wonder I never noticed it before.”
The Captain flushed, but said nothing.
“No relation, I hope?” queried the Major, grinning.
“To Daggett?”
“Yes; the scoundrel who stole our gold.”
Captain Gay had resumed his writing, but said, lightly, as if the matter was too preposterous to be treated seriously:
“Is it likely, sir?”
But already the Major’s mind had turned to a more important subject.
“I’ve come for that little memorandum, sir.”
“What memorandum?” asked the Captain, quietly.
“The location of the island.”
“Oh; I can’t give it to you,” said the other. “When you left this room yesterday the draft from the open door caught the paper I had made my figures on, and carried it out of the window. So the record is lost.”
“Leave this room, sir!”
“Lost!” The Major stared at him in amazement.
“Absolutely lost, sir.”
“Do you mean to tell me you don’t know where that island is?” demanded the Major, fiercely.
“I haven’t the slightest idea of its location. During the night the helmsman altered our course several times, steering by the stars. I think we’re going in the right direction, but I can tell better when I’ve taken our observations for today. Unfortunately, however, that won’t help us to locate the island.”
The Major sat down heavily on a chest. The information he had received fairly dazed him, but his gaze remained firmly fixed on the Captain’s expressionless face.
After a time he gave a laugh, and said:
“I told you yesterday that island was mine. I’ll take that back. It’s yours and mine. You’ll share it with me, Captain Gay, I’m sure.”
“It is still yours, Major, as far as I’m concerned. If I knew its location, I would tell you willingly. But I don’t. You’ll have to find your property yourself.”
The Major sprang up with an oath.
“You infernal scoundrel!” he cried, “do you think I’ll be played with like this? Give me the location of that island, or by the nine great gods, I’ll kill you where you sit!”
“Leave this room, sir.”
The Captain was angry too, by this time. He stood erect and pointed with dignity to the doorway, from which I dodged with alacrity.
“I command this ship, sir,” he said, “and here my will is law. I’ll endure no browbeating, Major, or any insolence from you or any of my passengers. On the island I obeyed you. Here you will obey me, or I’ll lock you fast in your cabin. Leave this room!”
The Major stood irresolute a moment. Then sullenly and slowly, he quit the cabin and returned to the deck.
Even to my wondering but immature intellect it was evident that Captain Gay had won the battle.
The “Flipper” made good time, and sighted the Oregon coast on the morning of the fifth day. From there she followed the dim outlines of the distant land down to the Golden Gate, and cast anchor safely and without event in the bay of San Francisco.
The Major had been sullen and ill-tempered during the entire voyage, but although he made repeated efforts to see Captain Gay privately and renew his request for the location of the golden island, that officer positively refused to hold any further communication with him.
Therefore the Major was helpless. After all, the Captain might be speaking the entire truth; and if so all argument was useless. Threats do not affect a man of his temperament, and beyond threats the Major did not care to go, even to secure the information he wished. Bribery, in such a case, was absurd. Therefore nothing could be done but bear the disappointment with a good grace. The Major’s fortune was, for the present, ample, and I wondered why he should ever care to visit the island again.
As soon as the anchors were dropped the miners clamored to be set ashore, and by night they had all quitted the ship and established themselves in lodgings in the town, from whence they at once flocked to the bankers and began to turn their golden grains into cash.
Uncle Naboth and I remained on board another day. There were settlements to be made with the sailors and various other details that needed attention at the close of the voyage; so that I was kept busy with my books of accounts and Uncle Naboth stood constantly at my elbow to give me the necessary instructions.
We both longed to be on shore again, however; so as soon as the last formalities were completed, we put our heavy sacks of gold into a boat and carried them to the docks, from whence an escort of our trusty sailors accompanied us to the bank wherein Mr. Perkins was accustomed to keep his deposits.
So many ships had lately returned from Alaska bearing gold from the mines that Mr. Perkins’ heavy deposit aroused no wonder except as to its extent, and the banker warmly congratulated him upon his good fortune in making so successful a voyage.
Both Uncle Naboth and I remained at the bank until every sack of gold had been carefully weighed and sealed, and the proper receipt given. Then, breathing freely for the first time since the gold had been in our possession, we repaired to my Uncle’s former lodging house, where Mr. Perkins was warmly welcomed.
“We’ll have the best dinner tonight the establishment can set up, Sam, my boy,” said the old man, rubbing his hands gleefully together; “for we’ve got to celebrate the success of the new partnership. You must ’a brought the firm luck, my lad, for this here is the biggest haul I’ve heard of since I’ve been in the business. We’re rich, nevvy—rich as punkins!”
“How much do you suppose we’re worth, Uncle?” I enquired, rather curiously.
“I can’t tell exactly, o’ course, till after we’ve got the quality of our gold properly graded, and put it on the market; but my opinion is, we’re at least fifty thousand dollars to the good.”
“As much as that!” I exclaimed, greatly elated.
“Full as much, I judge.”
“Then,” said I, drawing a sigh of relief, “I can pay Mrs. Ranck that four hundred dollars I owe her for my board.”
Uncle Naboth made a wry face.
“It’s a shame to throw good money away on that old termagan’,” he remarked, “and I’ve no doubt she’s been overpaid already, by stealin’ the contents o’ Cap’n Steele’s chest. But if it’d make you feel easier in your mind, Sam, I’ll fix it so you can send her the money as soon as you like.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” I replied, gratefully, “I’ll never be happy until the debt is off my shoulders. Whether she’s entitled to the money or not, I promised Mrs. Ranck I’d pay the debt, and I want to keep my word.”
“An’ so you shall,” said Uncle Naboth, with an approving nod.
We feasted royally at dinner, and afterward Uncle Naboth took me to the theatre, where we sat in the top gallery among the crowd of laborers and sailors, but enjoyed the play very much indeed.
“Some folks who had just banked fifty thousand,” remarked my Uncle, reflectively, “would want to sit down there among them nabobs, in a seat that costs a dollar apiece—or perhaps two dollars, for all I know. But what’s the use, Sam? Do they hear or see any better than we do up here?”
“Probably not,” I answered, with a smile.
“Then we’re getting as much fun for our quarter as they get for a dollar,” declared Uncle Naboth, chuckling, “an’ tomorrow mornin’ we’ll be so much richer, an’ nothin’ lost by it. Sam, the secret o’ spendin’ money ain’t in puttin’ on airs; it’s in gettin’ all the pleasure out of a nickel that the nickel will buy. ‘Live high,’ is my motto; but do it economical. That’s the true philosophy o’ life.”
Next morning, as we were sitting in Uncle Naboth’s little room, we were surprised by the entrance of Captain Gay. He was accompanied by two of the sailors from the “Flipper,” bearing in their arms the easily recognized canvas sacks of gold from the island.
The Captain motioned his men to place the sacks upon the rickety table, (which nearly collapsed beneath the weight), and then ordered them to leave the room. When they were gone he carefully closed the door and turning to my Uncle said, abruptly:
“There, sir, is every grain of gold I got in that accursed island. The most of it was given me for turning the bed of the mountain stream, as you will remember.”
“No more than you deserved, sir,” said Uncle Naboth, puffing his pipe vigorously.
“It ought to be worth a good deal of money,” continued the Captain, his voice faltering slightly.
“Twenty thousand at least, in my judgment,” said Uncle Naboth, eyeing the sacks.
“Well, sir,” announced Captain Gay, with decision, “I want to exchange this gold for a bill of sale of the ship.”
“What! The ‘Flipper?’”
“Yes, sir.”
Uncle Naboth winked at me gravely, as if to convey the suggestion that the man had gone crazy.
“Cap’n,” said he, after a pause, “I don’t mean to say as Sam and I won’t sell the ship, if you’d like to buy her; but the tub is old, and has seen her best days. She’s worth about six thousand dollars, all told, and not a penny more.”
“You must take all that gold or nothing, sir.”
“What do you mean?” asked my Uncle, in amazement.
Captain Gay sat down and looked thoughtfully out of the window.
“Perhaps I must take you into my confidence,” he remarked, in his slow, quiet tones, “although at first I had thought this action would be unnecessary. I’ve an idea I’d like to own a ship myself, and to trade in a small way between here and Portland.”
“And the golden island, occasionally; eh, Cap’n?” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly. “I’ve heard from Sam here how you lost the paper containing your observations; but, I suppose you could find the place again, if you wanted to.”
Captain Gay flushed a deep red.
“Sir,” he answered, “you wrong me with your suspicions. I shall never revisit that island under any circumstances. Nor do I wish anyone else to do so. That is the true explanation of why I lost that paper.”
“Did you lose it?”
“I threw it overboard.”
Uncle Naboth whistled.
“I’m free to confess, sir, that I’m all at sea,” he said.
The Captain arose and paced the room with unusual agitation.
“Mr. Perkins,” said he, “I once had an older brother, who, when a boy, robbed my father and ran away from home. I never saw him again until we reached that island, where I recognized my erring brother in the man who called himself Daggett.”
Uncle Naboth scratched a match, and relit his pipe.
“I marked the resemblance between you,” he observed, “but I thought nothing of it.”
“To my grief I saw that he had not altered his course for the better,” resumed the Captain. “Of his final theft of the gold and the awful judgment that overtook him and his fellows you are well aware. I shall never forget the horror of those days, sir. It seems to me that that isolated unknown island is my brother’s tomb, where he must lie until the call of the last judgment. I do not wish anyone ever to visit the spot again, if I can help it.”
“That’s nonsense,” declared Uncle Naboth, coldly.
“Perhaps so; but it’s the way I feel. That’s why I don’t wish to touch the gold. I’ll take the ship in exchange for it, but I won’t use the stuff in any other way, or have anything more to do with it.”
“You’re foolish,” said Uncle Naboth, with a sternness quite foreign to his nature. “But if you really want to give away a matter of twenty thousand for an old hulk that’s worth about six, I’ll let you have your way.”
“That’s my desire, sir,” announced our visitor, meekly.
“Well, then, we’ll go to a lawyer and draw up the papers. Sam, you stay here and look after the gold, till I get back.”
“Very well, sir,” I replied, full of wonder at this queer business transaction.
Together they left the room, and it was an hour before Mr. Perkins returned.
“I signed for both of us, partner,” he said, briskly, “an’ the ‘Flipper’s’ now the sole property of Cap’n Gay. With the money this gold will bring, we can buy a ship twice as good as the old one, in which, with good luck to back us, we ought to make many a prosperous voyage.”
“Why do you think he did it, sir,” I enquired musingly.
“It’s just one of two things,” replied Mr. Perkins. “Either the man’s a bit cracked, as I’ve sometimes suspected, and really feels sentimental about his brother’s death, or else he’s got a sly scheme to make trips to the island in an old ship that won’t attract attention, and bring away many cargoes of gold. That ain’t so unlikely, Sam. No one will remark on Cap’n Gay’s owning the old ship he’s commanded for years; but if he bought a new one, and started out for the island, he might be watched and his true business suspected. Either the feller’s mighty deep, or mighty innocent; but it ain’t our business to decide which. We’ve got the money, and now we’ll look for a newer and finer ship.”
“New England’s the best place to buy a good ship, sir. I’ve often heard my father say so,” I suggested.
“Then let’s go to New England,” returned Uncle Naboth, promptly. “We’ll travel together, and you can run up to Batteraft and pay the old hag that money.”
“I’d like to do that,” said I, greatly pleased. “It would do me good to see her surprise when she finds I’ve earned so much money already.”
“Then it’s all settled,” declared Uncle Naboth. “I’ll go up to the village with you, and see fair play. ’Twould be a fine chance to give that cankered Venus a piece of my mind, just as a parting shot.”
“Would you dare, sir,” I asked, recollecting his former experience with Mrs. Ranck.
“Would I dare? Do you take me for a coward, then?” demanded the old man, indignantly.
“No, sir, but I remember——”
“Never mind that, Sam. I was worried about other things that day, and wasn’t quite myself. But now—well, just wait till I get the old serpent face to face. That’s all!”
“All right, Uncle. When shall we go?”
“Just as soon as we’ve paid all the bills and settled our accounts for the last voyage. A week’ll do that, I reckon. An’ now, partner, just run out and hire a closed carriage, and we’ll get Cap’n Gay’s gold to the bank as soon as possible. Sam, my boy, if this streak o’ luck holds good we’ll be the envy of Rockyfeller in a few years!”