Early one afternoon Chap Webster might have been seen rowing a little boat, near the water’s edge, in front of the Hyson Hall estate. In the stern of the boat was a box with a piece of canvas thrown over it, and in the bow were several large packages. These things had been brought home by Chap, in a wagon, that morning from Boontown, where they had been sent to him from the city.

When Chap reached a spot nearly over the sunken vessel—and he found the place very easily, for it was marked by a little floating buoy which he had put there after many previous soundings and surveys—he anchored his boat with a long rope, and began to carry out the great scheme on which his mind had so long been set.

A large package securely tied up in India-rubber cloth, with the ends of a long, double wire inserted into it, was lowered to the bottom of the river, where it rested as near as possible to the side of the sunken ship. The upper ends of the double wire were then attached to the ends of two long, covered wires, which lay in separate coils in the boat. This being done, Chap pulled up his anchor and slowly paddled his boat to shore, carefully letting out his wires with one hand as he paddled with the other.

This was quite a difficult thing to do, and it would have been much better if he had had one of the other boys to help him. But he had come to the conclusion that there must be no faint hearts in this matter, and he had said nothing to them about it.

When he reached the shore, he fastened the boat to a stake, and taking one coil of wire in his arms, he carried it up to the fence, which stood at a little distance from the water’s edge, carefully uncoiling it as he proceeded.

Then he laid it along the bottom of the fence, until he came to a little brook which ran to the river through a pasture-field, and which was bordered by thick bushes. He laid the wire along the edge of this brook until it was all uncoiled. Then he went to his boat and brought the other coil of wire, laying it by the side of the first.

Having thus carried these wires up the brook as far as they would reach, he went to the boat and brought his box, which contained an electric battery, to the spot where the farthest ends of his wires lay.

It was evident that all the distances had been measured and the localities carefully surveyed. Having placed the box under some overhanging bushes, where it could not readily be seen, Chap walked along the line of his wires, carefully concealing them with leaves and weeds wherever he thought it was necessary.

There were no cattle in the fields that afternoon, and as people seldom passed that way, it was likely that his wires would be unnoticed and undisturbed for an hour or so at least. Having settled these matters to his satisfaction, Chap got into his boat and rowed away.

The first thing Chap did on reaching home was to go to Helen and tell her all about this great affair.

His sister had often heard him talk of the wreck and the treasure he thought it contained; but when she heard that Chap had made all the arrangements for blowing the ship out of the water, and that it was to be done that very afternoon, she was indeed astounded.

“Don’t you intend to tell the other boys?” she asked.

“No,” he answered. “They’ll be sure to want to put it off for this thing or that, and might want to wait till we could have tin hoppers made to catch the money in, or something of that kind. I’ve been waiting long enough to do this thing, and I’m not going to hold back another day. But I just felt I couldn’t keep it all to myself, so I told you, for I know you’re the kind of girl who won’t hinder. Now I’m going to take you down with me to see the thing blow up. Would you like that?”

“Oh, yes!” said Helen, her eyes sparkling, “if we don’t have to go too near.”

“We’ll keep out of danger,” said Chap. “But I’m going to do something more for you. I’m going to let you touch her off!”

“Me!” cried Helen. “Oh, Chap! I couldn’t do that!”

“Why, it is nothing to do,” said Chap. “We’ll be far enough away, and you’ve only got to touch a knob. Get your hat and come along. We’re going to have the grandest blow-up ever heard of in these parts.”

A little nervous as to the danger, but wild with excitement as to what was going to happen, Helen ran for her hat, and the two started away, walking across the fields to the place where the battery had been concealed.

On the way, Chap explained to his sister all his arrangements.

“According to what I can make out,” said he, “I’ve got enough giant-powder sunk by the side of that wreck to blow up two ships.”

“I shouldn’t think they’d sell that stuff to a boy,” said Helen.

“It isn’t everybody who takes me for a child,” said Chap, loftily, and made no further remarks on the subject.

“But how are you going to get the treasure?” asked Helen, presently. “Won’t it be scattered all over, in every direction?”

“Now, look here, Helen,” said Chap, “I don’t want you to be making objections. I didn’t let you into this thing for that purpose. I’ve put the powder on the outside of the wreck, and it’s my opinion that most everything will be blown in shore. If the money is stowed away in iron boxes, perhaps they’ll come down without breaking. But we can’t calculate for everything. The main thing is to blow her up.”

Soon after this the two arrived at their destination, and, uncovering his battery, Chap exhibited it to his sister, and explained its action.

One of the wires which came from the jar which contained his simple battery he united to the end of one of his wires from the river. The end of the other wire was laid on a small board which covered one end of the box, and was held in position by two wooden pegs. Directly over this end of the wire was the end of the other short wire which came from the battery, and which was fastened under a little wooden spring, which Chap had made, and to the top of which he had fixed a small knob or button.

“Now, Helen,” said Chap, when everything had been made ready, “you can see just how the thing will work. When you press that knob, and push the spring down, the two ends of the wires will touch, and the electric circuit will be complete. These wires, which are insulated by being covered with tape dipped in paraffine, except these upper ends, which don’t need insulating, as they lie on wood, which is a non-conductor, extend from the battery down to the giant-powder at the bottom of the river. The two ends which are in the powder are united by a little piece of thin platinum wire. When the circuit is completed by pressing down the wire fastened to the spring, the electricity runs along one wire, to come back by the other, but when it reaches the little platinum wire it makes it red-hot, and that explodes the powder. So, you see, it is all simple enough.”

“Yes,” said Helen, a little hesitatingly, “but you must have studied a good deal to understand it all, and these things must have cost a good deal of money, too.”

“I don’t mind expending time or capital,” said Chap, “when I am going to do anything of importance. And now I think everything is ready.”

He then ran to a fence near by, and got up on the top rails, from which he could get a view of the river for some distance up and down. Jumping to the ground, he hastened back to Helen.

“There is no boat nor anything in sight!” he cried, “and the great moment has arrived. Just push down that knob.”

“Oh, Chap, I can’t do it!” cried Helen, springing back.

“But you must! I want you to have the honor of touching her off. It’s nothing to do, and it can’t hurt you. Just press down the knob.”

With trembling hand, Helen put her finger on the little knob and pressed it down.

A great boom, not loud, but deep and heavy, shook the air, and Chap, who was standing outside the bushes, saw a column of water rise from the river, together with a mass of mud and timbers. Smaller objects flew high into the air, and as the wind was blowing from the river, a sudden shower of spray fell all around him, as if it had been raining. Then pieces of wood came thumping down, some in the field near by.

One large stick, nearly three feet long, stuck into the ground not a dozen yards from the spot where Helen sat, her hands before her eyes.

Chap rushed to his sister, as if he would throw himself over her to protect her, but there was no need of that. Everything that was coming down had come.

“Oh, Helen!” he cried. “I might have killed you! I ought to have had ever so much longer wires. But there is no danger now. Let’s run down and see how it looks.”

Before they reached the water’s edge, it was easy to see that something very unusual had happened. The river was still heaving and tossing above the place of the explosion. The water was thick and dark with mud for some distance from the shore. Fresh mud was scattered over everything,—the leaves and trunks of trees, the grass, the ground. Pieces of timber, some half in and half out of the water, and some thrown high up on shore, lay scattered about, but nothing was floating on the surface of the river. All the woodwork of that vessel had become water-logged long before, and such of it as had fallen into the water had sunk again to the bottom.

With anxious eyes and hurried steps, Chap and Helen went up and down the beach, looking here and there and everywhere, but they found no iron boxes, nor did they see a single piece of gold or silver.

Mr. Berkeley and Phil, with Phœnix Poole, were sitting on the porch at Hyson Hall, when they heard a great explosion down the river. There was no flash or smoke, but they saw black objects flying into the air.

They sprang to their feet, and Phœnix exclaimed,—

“I’ll bet a thousand dollars that is Chap. He’s blown up the ship.”

Without another word all three started off at full speed for the river-bank. When they reached the spot, they found Chap and Helen still searching among the fallen timbers and clots of mud.

When the story had been told, and Chap had explained everything to the astonished Mr. Berkeley, Phil exclaimed,—

“And haven’t you found any money?”

“Not a cent,” said Chap, ruefully. “I believe the crew must have been paid off before they left the ship.”

Mr. Berkeley appeared much excited by what had occurred.

“Look here, young man,” he cried, clapping Chap on the shoulder, “you needn’t trouble yourself about not finding any money. If you have really blown that old wreck out of the channel, we’ll have a town here, and I’ll give you a corner lot. I never thought the thing could be done so easily.”

“Where is the scow?” said Phil. “If we could get a grapnel we might fish up something.”

The boys looked up and down the beach, but saw no scow. And then Chap pulled a long face.

“I forgot the scow was moored here,” he said. “I guess she’s blown to flinders. But I’ll pay you for it, sir.”

“Not a bit of it,” cried Mr. Berkeley. “The old tub is not worth considering. Judging from the timber lying around here, there can’t be much of the wreck left. You didn’t think, young lady,” said he, addressing Helen, “that when you touched that button you were starting a town?”

“No, indeed, sir!” said Helen, with brightening eyes.

“But such was the fact,” said Mr. Berkeley; “and if we ever have the town it shall be called Helena.”

When the bed of the river was afterwards examined, it was found that there remained no obstructions to navigation which had not been so shattered and loosened by the explosion that they could easily be removed, and there was no reason why a wharf at that point could not be used by river steamboats.

It was not long before Mr. Muller received a letter from Mr. Berkeley assuring him of his hearty co-operation in the matter of the town of Helena, which town ultimately proved a success, and became a source of so much profit to Mr. Berkeley that the incumbrances upon Hyson Hall were removed long before he had made out his titles to his Western lands.

The first time the man with the black straw hat met Chap, he warmly shook him by the hand.

“I didn’t suppose anything would come of your explosive ideas,” he said, “but you have been the best man of us all. Mr. Berkeley says he is going to make you a landed proprietor.”

“I don’t want any town-lots,” said Chap. “What I want is to be captain of a tug-boat.”

“All right,” said Mr. Muller. “If the town ever owns a tug-boat, I’ll see that you command her.”

On two stout brackets, over the dining-room mantel-piece at Hyson Hall, and secured to the wall by a stout hasp and padlock, hangs Old Bruden.

When Mr. Berkeley heard Susan’s story about the gun, her superstition pleased his fancy, for he was an imaginative man.

“It shall always be the master’s gun,” he said, when he hung it there; “and when we shall have built our town, and paid our debts, and I shall go to the city to practise law, Hyson Hall shall belong to my dear Phil, and his shall be the master’s gun.”

THE END.