Kitabı oku: «The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Pacific», sayfa 5
CHAPTER XVII. – AN ENCOUNTER AT BOMOBORI
It was on a clear day a little more than a week later that the lookout announced land dead ahead. All on board knew that it must be New Guinea, the wild and little known country where Mr. Jukes had confident hopes of finding his lost brother. Captain Sparhawk made an excellent “land-fall,” as sailors call it, and by night they came to anchor off Bomobori.
It was a beautiful scene. The waves dashed against a golden strand. Behind lay vast and mysterious forests, looking dark and uninviting in the evening light. Beyond the forests rose great mountains veiled in the bluish mist of the far distances. As darkness fell, the lights of Bomobori began to twinkle, casting reflections in the still waters of the harbor and river, the mouth of which latter could be seen to the north of the town.
“Well, I’m ready to go ashore,” remarked Raynor, as he joined Jack on deck at the conclusion of his duties in the engine-room. “It will certainly feel good to put foot on shore once more.”
“Indeed it will,” agreed Jack, warmly. “I’m anxious to get a look at New Guinea too. It’s a country about which very little is known – I mean so far as the interior is concerned.”
“Well, we are likely to have plenty of opportunity for exploration,” said Raynor. “I heard Mr. Jukes telling the captain that he believed, from what he had heard about ‘Bully’ Broom at Tahiti where he is well known, that the rascal has a secret hiding place in the interior somewhere.”
“Then it’s likely to take a long time to locate him,” said Jack. “This is a pretty big country and very densely wooded, with big mountains and rivers galore. I’m afraid it’s a needle and hay-stack job.”
“I expect Mr. Jukes means to get a clue in Bomobori, where Broom is probably well known,” hazarded Raynor.
“That is probably his idea,” said Jack. “Anyhow, he is not a man who would give up his purpose for any ordinary difficulties.”
It was decided not to leave the yacht till the morning. It can well be imagined then that the sleep of the boys that night was not as sound as usual. Both lay awake wondering what lay before them, and whether they would succeed or fail in the mission, for that evening Mr. Jukes had appointed them members of the expedition, and declared that he would rely upon them to the uttermost to aid him.
It was then that Jack had made a suggestion. The yacht was to be left in the harbor with a crew to guard her, but communication with her might be important, even necessary, if they were driven to some other part of the coast and were unable to return to Bomobori.
Jack’s suggestion was that, with the spare parts of the ship’s wireless, of which a big stock was carried, he should construct a portable radio apparatus by means of which they could at all times be in touch with the yacht. He had an idea that he could do this easily. Thurman, who had been conducting himself in an irreproachable manner, could be left in charge of the Sea Gypsy’s plant with perfect safety, the boy felt confident. And so, subject to his success with a portable set, it was arranged.
“This doesn’t appear to be much of a town,” observed Raynor, as they landed the next day, a little before noon, in a warm, gentle shower of rain such as frequently swept across the island at that time of the year.
“Well, you could hardly expect to find it a New York or London, you know,” rejoined Jack.
In truth Bomobori was a very fair specimen of a town in that section of the world. Along the water front, back of which squatted a line of tin-roofed warehouses, were moored native craft from up the river with bamboo cabins and great lattice sails that housed a whole family of natives. In spite of the rain it was warm and steamy, and a strange assortment of odors greeted their nostrils as the boat was run up to the principal dock and made fast.
The population was a very mixed one. Pallid white men, who looked like Frenchmen for the most part, rubbed elbows on the water front with Chinese, Lascars, Malays, Javanese and the wild-looking Papuans from the interior with their frizzed hair and ornamental cloaks of bird skins and long spears. Here and there a stout German in white ducks waddled by with a sun-helmeted Englishman. There appeared to be quite a lot of trading going on.
But they were anxious to hurry on to the hotel where Mr. Jukes hoped to begin the inquiries which he was sanguine would result in his finding his brother. The hostelry for which they were bound lay some squares back from the water front. It was situated, like most tropical hotels, in a park in which flowers and shrubs of all kinds grew luxuriantly, and bright colored birds flew with harsh cries, like (bright) jewels, among the brilliant foliage. It was a two-story affair in front of which a fountain plashed coolingly in the hot, heavy air. Verandas, upon which every room opened, completely surrounded each story.
They entered the office where the hand baggage they had brought was picked up by barefooted, white-garmented servants. Mr. Jukes was bending over the register writing his name and those of his party when Jack caught sight of somebody lounging in a bamboo chair in the reading room that nearly took his breath away.
“Well, if that isn’t – ”
“What is it, Jack?” asked Billy quickly.
“Look at that chap there reading a paper. It’s Donald Judson – Donald Judson, as sure as you’re a foot high!”
CHAPTER XVIII. – DONALD JUDSON AGAIN
Jack was right; the boy sitting in the reading room was indeed the formerly ne’er-do-well son of the man who had headed the plot to steal the naval code, though what he could be doing in Bomobori neither of the boys could guess. But so changed was he in appearance from the flashily-dressed, aggressively-conceited Donald Judson they had known, that for a moment both boys doubted the evidence of their eyes.
Donald had always, in the past, been inclined to dudishness in his clothes. Now his clothing was dilapidated and torn, his shoes were old canvas ones that looked ready to fall apart, and he had a scarecrow of a battered straw hat on his head.
Moreover, his face was careworn and his cheeks hollow and one eye appeared to have suffered a blow of some sort for it was blackened and swollen. Altogether he was a most woebegone looking specimen of humanity, and the boys wondered he was suffered about the hotel. Donald’s presence there, however, was later accounted for, although this, of course, the boys did not know, by a long tale of disaster and suffering he had sustained while gold hunting in the interior. Donald said he was expecting remittances from America and on this account had been accommodated with quarters.
“My gracious, what a change,” exclaimed Billy under his breath. “He looks like a regular scarecrow.”
“He must have been in mighty tough luck,” rejoined Jack. “But what beats me is what he is doing here. It’s a very odd coincidence that we should run into two of our old enemies on this trip.”
“It is, indeed. But see, he is looking at us. I suppose we ought to speak to the poor chap.”
Donald had dropped his paper and was staring straight at the two lads as if they had been ghosts. Then he got to his feet and came toward them.
“Jack Ready!” he exclaimed, “where did you come from?”
“We might ask the same question of you, Judson,” said Jack, “but – er – you’ll excuse my saying so, but you look as if you’d been in hard luck lately.”
“I have been, oh I have been,” said Donald, in a voice far different from his old bragging one. “I got out of a job and shipped for a sailor. I’d heard it was a fine life. The ship I was on sailed away from Honolulu while I was still ashore after overstopping my leave. Then I got a job on a schooner that had a bad reputation, when I was nearly starved, but I had to live somehow. The captain of the South Sea Lass was a brute. He – ”
“Here, hold on,” cried Jack, seizing his arm which was thin and bony, “was his name Broom – ”
“Yes. ‘Bully’ Broom. He is little better than a pirate. He treated me worse than a dog, and finally, after blacking my eye, put me ashore here several days ago. He – say, hold on, what’s the matter?”
Jack and Billy had seized him one on each side and were dragging him across the floor of the hotel office.
“There’s somebody here we want you to tell your story to,” explained Jack. “It’ll be worth something to you, but be sure to tell the truth.”
“As if I could lie, no matter what I said about that wretch, ‘Bully’ Broom,” declared Donald. “I’m sure he was mixed up in some illegal business. Why we put into an island called the Pommer-Pommer – ”
“The Pamatous?” came from Billy.
“That’s it.”
“And some men were taken prisoners from a schooner called the Centurion?” demanded Jack.
“Yes, but see here Ready, how in the world – ?”
“Never mind that. What became of those prisoners?”
“He locked them up in cabins. He said that they were bad men and pearl robbers and that he was bringing them to justice.”
“Did you ever talk with them?”
“No; except one, and I never got a chance to say much to him. Broom watched me very closely. He’d have murdered me if he’d thought that I was trying to pry into his affairs.”
“What was the name of the man you talked to?”
“He was a kind of a leader of the party, I guess,” was the reply. “I used to take him his meals and there were precious few of those too, for we were on short rations ourselves.”
“But his name – his name?” demanded Jack.
“Oh, Flukes – something like that, anyhow. I never was good at names.”
“Was it Jukes?”
“That was it,” cried Donald, snapping his fingers.
“Well, boys, what’s the matter?” demanded the missing man’s brother as he finished with the register and turned amazedly to face his two young followers grasping Donald’s ragged figure on each side as if they had a prisoner in custody.
“Mr. Jukes, this boy has seen and talked to your brother within the last two weeks,” was the announcement from Jack that sent the millionaire staggering back against the hotel desk, for once in his life giving way to uncontrolled amazement.
CHAPTER XIX. – HE TELLS A STRANGE STORY
“Bless my soul,” he exclaimed, when he found breath, “you boys are always digging up somebody. Who is this?”
He regarded the ragged figure of the unfortunate Donald with some disapprobation. Jack explained, and then Donald, stumbling and stuttering somewhat under Mr. Jukes’ steady eye, told his story.
“But you have not told us the most important part of it all,” said the millionaire, as he concluded. “Where was my unfortunate brother taken to by this ruffian?”
“That’s just what I don’t know, sir,” rejoined the boy. “You see, they took good care I shouldn’t know too much about their operations. All I know is that I heard them saying something about 'up the river.’”
“Meaning this river – the Bomobori?” asked Mr. Jukes.
“I suppose so.”
“Do you know where the schooner is now?” was the millionaire’s next question, but Donald did not. All he knew was that, after landing him in Bomobori, ‘Bully’ Broom had departed under cover of night. Where he had headed for was a mystery.
Jack whispered something to the millionaire when Donald had concluded his narrative and Mr. Jukes put his hand in his pocket and drew out some coins. Then as he moved off Jack rather hesitatingly said to Donald:
“You’ve had a hard time of it for money, I suppose?”
“Hard? That’s no name for it,” exclaimed the other. “That rascal Broom never gave me a cent, though when he shipped me he promised me wages. If you hadn’t arrived I don’t know what I should have done.”
“Well, we are willing to let bygones be bygones,” said Jack.
“It wouldn’t be fair to be rough on a fellow who is down on his luck,” muttered Donald rather grudgingly. “And – and I guess I’ve learned a lesson, fellows.”
“By the way, Donald,” said Jack, handing the boy the coins Mr. Jukes had given him, “here is something from Mr. Jukes to help you along for the present. I am sure he will see to it that you do not suffer any more hardships in return for the valuable information you have given us.”
The destitute lad’s face brightened wonderfully. The money – about twenty dollars – was more than he had seen in a long time. He fingered the coins greedily.
“I – I’m much obliged to you and to your friend, too,” he muttered rather shamefacedly, “and – er – I’m sorry I ever played you mean tricks.”
“Never mind about that now,” said Jack, cutting him short. “My advice to you is not to hang about here, but to get a job on the first ship that touches here and go home.”
“I’ll go down to the shipping offices right now and see what the chances are,” promised Donald, and with a new spring in his step he started out of the hotel.
“What a change,” exclaimed Jack, when he had gone. “I never thought Donald Judson could become so humbled.”
“He is certainly blue, and that is hardly surprising,” agreed Billy. “But the question is whether his seeming repentance is sincere.”
“Let’s hope all that he has been through has taught him a good lesson,” said Jack.
“It surely ought to have,” said Billy, and then the subject was dismissed by a tall, half-clothed native striding into the lobby and beating stridently on a huge brass gong inscribed with queer characters.
“What’s that for?” asked Jack of the clerk behind the desk who looked like a German.
“Dot iss for Riz Tavel,” replied the clerk.
“For Riz who?” asked Billy.
“For Riz Tavel,” rejoined the man impatiently, as if surprised at their ignorance. “Riz Tavel, dot means lunch.”
“Oh, I see,” replied Jack. “Well, I’m ready for it whatever they call it.”
At the summons of the gong several guests of the hotel came into the lobby, appearing as if they had just got out of bed. The boys were amazed to see that many of the male guests wore pyjamas, while the women were in negligee. This, however, applied only to the half castes and Dutch residents. The Germans and English, who did most of the trading at Bomobori, wore tropical suits of conventional make.
They were waited on by barefooted Malays who set before each of the boys and their shipmates, when these latter appeared, big soup plates full of rice.
“They call this the 'riz-tavel,’ that means the rice table,” explained Captain Sparhawk, thus clearing away the secret of the mysterious words. “Rice is a staple all through the East, just like bread is at home.”
Having filled their plates with rice, as they saw everybody else do, the Americans waited for the next move. The waiters had all vanished after depositing the rice, and Jack was moved to remark whether that was all they were going to get.
His question was answered by the re-appearance of the barefooted servitors. They bore numerous dishes piled with fish, duck, chicken, pork, omelette, onions and peppers. The guests all piled portions of every one of these dishes on the top of the rice, and the visitors seeing that they were not expected to ask for more plates were fain to do the same. The boys, however, balked at a thin curried sauce which was supposed to be poured over this hodge-podge of edibles.
Having disposed of what in itself was a mighty meal they then found that they were expected to despatch beefsteaks, salad and fruit.
“Well, they don’t starve you here, that’s one thing sure,” said Jack.
“You must remember that their 'breakfast,’ as they call it, is eaten in the cool of the morning and usually only consists of coffee and fruit,” said Captain Sparhawk.
A groan from the dyspeptic Mr. Jukes, who had eaten a hearty meal, was followed soon after by the breaking up of the party. There was much to be attended to, but Captain Sparhawk said it would be useless to try to transact business till the late afternoon when the sea breeze sprung up. The interval between riz-tavel and that hour he said was set aside for sleeping, and nobody ever dreamed of interfering with the custom. In fact, he would have found nobody to transact business with.
He warned the boys against walking about in the scorchingly hot afternoon sun also, as it was said to induce fevers. There was nothing left for them to do, therefore, but to pass the afternoon in their rooms, although they would have preferred exploring the town.
When they came down again they found Donald Judson in the lobby. He appeared very disconsolate. He said that no ships for American ports would call at the port for a long time.
“I guess I’m stuck here for the rest of my life,” he complained, and then made a sudden suggestion.
“Say, why can’t you take me with you on that expedition?” he asked, for the boys had told him something about the object of their presence in New Guinea.
“Um – er – I don’t know that Mr. Jukes wants anybody else along,” hesitated Jack.
“I’d work hard and do anything I was told to,” said Donald pleadingly. “Won’t you ask him about it? It’s awful to be stuck here like a bump on a log.”
“Well, perhaps we might see about it,” relented Jack, really feeling sorry for the unhappy plight of their former enemy, mean and despicable as he had proved himself to have been in the past.
“Thanks, awfully,” exclaimed Donald, gratefully, and he went off through the gardens, saying that he was going to get himself a pair of new shoes. Soon after Mr. Jukes, having got over his attack of dyspepsia, appeared, the boys laid Donald’s request before him.
“I really don’t know,” he hesitated. “Of course, the lad is in hard luck, but somehow I don’t exactly like his looks and I don’t see what use he could be to us. I’d rather leave money here to pay for his living till some ship arrives he could get a berth on.”
“If you left him money in a place like this he might fall back into his old bad ways,” suggested Jack.
“That is true. I wouldn’t wish to push any one down the hill when there was a chance of helping them up,” said the millionaire, musingly. “Well, I’ll see about it,” he added after an interval of thought. Just then, as Captain Sparhawk came up, the incident was ended and the two elders set out for a trading store to arrange for supplies and other necessaries for their dash into the interior, for Mr. Jukes had resolved to act on Donald Judson’s unexpected clue and make his way up the river.
“I’ve got a notion that if we did take that fellow Donald along that he would make trouble for us,” said Raynor as soon as they were out of ear-shot.
“I don’t see how he could, or what object he would have,” doubted Jack. “Still, I myself wouldn’t trust him very far, in spite of his declarations of reform.”
But as it so happened neither of the boys need have troubled themselves over the matter, for that evening, when Mr. Jukes sent for Donald to have a talk with him, the boy’s manner had changed entirely. He was no longer servile and cringing as he had been earlier. In fact, he intimated very plainly that he wanted nothing more to do with the Jukes party.
There was a reason for this, a reason that none of the party naturally was able at the time to guess. Donald’s change of front was not due to any mere caprice. A deep-seated reason lay behind it, and that reason was rooted in an encounter he had had just after he left the boys in the hotel garden.
CHAPTER XX. – A TRAITOR IN CAMP
Donald’s encounter had been with no less a personage than ‘Bully’ Broom himself, whose spies in the town had informed him that a party of Americans had arrived on a yacht and had been making inquiries about a missing man named Jukes. Broom at once knew that the half-suspected had happened, and that a strong party in search of the missing man had, by some inexplicable (to him) chance, arrived in Bomobori.
He perceived at once that Donald’s presence at the hotel, where he had abandoned him to his fate, might result disastrously for him and he congratulated himself that the boy did not know more of the fate of Jerushah Jukes than he had already told our friends. But even that meager information, Broom foresaw, might be used to great advantage, so he posted himself in a resort frequented by men of his type of whom there are many in the South Seas, and despatched some of his crew to look for the boy he had cast off.
It was not long before Donald who, to do him justice, came unwillingly at first, was presented to Broom by two villainous-looking half-caste Malay sailors, for Broom had few white men in his crew.
“They talk too much,” he was wont to say.
As soon as Donald appeared, the ‘Bully’ reversed his usual tactics and tried to make himself as pleasant as possible. He was a huge-framed ruffian with a tangled black beard, and burned brown enough by sun and wind to be taken for a negro. Donald soon saw that he had nothing to fear from Broom now, and being a sharp boy he proceeded to take the initiative after some verbal sparring.
“You’ve got an awful nerve sending for me after the treatment you gave me,” he observed. “What do you want, anyhow?”
“Now see here, boy,” bellowed Broom, in his gruff voice which he tried to render amiable without much success, so used was he to ruling his band with an iron hand, “I’ll admit that I may have used you a bit roughly, but that was the way of the sea. A fine young fellow like you, though, oughtn’t to mind that. A little knocking about is good for you.”
“Yes, and it was good for me to be left stranded in this hole, too, I suppose,” said Donald.
“I didn’t leave you stranded. I was merely out of funds and was coming back to pay you up and get you out of trouble,” protested Broom, with an earnestness that appeared genuine. “See here.”
He plunged his hand into his pocket and drew out a handful of gold and then let it fall trickling on the table.
“That doesn’t look as if I wasn’t able to do it, either, does it?” he demanded. “Now, see here,” he went on, “I’ve got a proposition to make to you. You’re a smart lad, a clever lad, and one that’s bound to get on the world. I’m going to help you, too.”
“Well, what do you want?” demanded Donald, who was very susceptible to flattery, and who had a weak nature, easily played upon by any one skillful enough to touch the right chord.
“That gang that arrived on the yacht? What about them?” came from Broom.
“They are going to cook your hash if you don’t look out,” said Donald. “That’s Jukes’ brother, and they’re going to find him wherever you’ve put him and then nab you.”
“So that’s the program, eh?” muttered the ‘Bully.’ “Now see here, Donald, I want you on my side and I’m not afraid to pay for it. A smart and clever boy like you could do me a deal of harm if you were sided with the enemy. You’ll be no loser by it. You haven’t told them anything about our little deal with the Centurion yet, have you?”
Donald did some quick thinking. He was sharp enough to see that Broom was afraid of what he might have said, for even in Bomobori there was law and if it were known to Mr. Jukes that Broom was in the vicinity it would be immediately invoked. He balanced his two opportunities against each other. Cupidity, greed for money, had always been his main fault, and now he thought he saw a way to make more out of Broom than he could out of Mr. Jukes. Besides, although he had appeared so humbled before the boys, and ashamed of his past conduct, his hatred still rankled, for the reason that he blamed all his troubles on them and had often brooded over plans of revenge.
“No, I haven’t told them anything about the Centurion,” he said at length, fearing that if he told Broom how much the Jukes party knew the freebooter might withdraw from any deal he was about to make. “I simply gave them a cock-and-bull story about myself when they were astonished to find me here.”
“Ah! So you know them, then? They are friends of yours?” exclaimed Broom.
“Hardly friends,” muttered Donald. “I knew them in America.”
“You’ve no particular affection for them, though?”
“How do you know?”
“Your tone told me that, my young friend.”
“Well, I might as well admit it. I don’t like them. They wronged me in America and that’s why I am here now. I’ve treated them in a friendly way because I’m out of money.”
Broom’s deep set eyes flashed.
“You’ve got a good head boy, very good,” he said, approvingly. “Now to get down to business. I’ll give you a handsome sum to stay on my side.”
“Spot cash?”
“The money on the nail. I want you to do a little job for me in return. Keep your mouth absolutely shut, but find out all you can about their plans. You will always find me here when you want to report. Here’s something to start with,” and he pushed over the gold which lay on the table.
Donald’s eyes sparkled greedily as he counted it.
“All right, I’ll do what you say,” he remarked, as he pocketed it, “but tell me one thing: Where is Jerushah Jukes?”
“Ah, that is for me to know and for them to find out,” was Broom’s reply, “but I’ll tell you all about it in proper time.”
“It’s a wonder you are not afraid to be seen in the town,” said Donald. “Any one might tell them about your being here.”
“Nobody knows about me but my friends, and there is no danger of their talking.”
“But your schooner, which is as well known in this part of the ocean as a mail steamer?”
Broom smiled.
“You don’t think I’d be fool enough to bring my schooner in here after I heard about the arrival of Jukes’ yacht?” he asked. “The South Sea Lass is safely hidden up the coast. I came here on a native canoe.”
“Well, you ought to be good at covering up your tracks, you’ve had enough experience,” said Donald, with a sort of grudging admiration for the ruffian.
“One thing more,” said Broom, acknowledging what he chose to take as a compliment with a grin. “Jukes is very rich. Has he much money with him this trip?”
“I guess not. Jukes is pretty foxy with his money. If he has much it would be in some form that is not negotiable. He is not the sort of man to take chances.”
Broom nodded his massive head ponderously. He was evidently revolving some plan in his mind. Presently he brought down his heavy fist with a crash on the table.
“Jukes has poked his nose into this business,” he exclaimed, “and it will cost him something to get out of it before he gets through.”
“What do you mean?” asked Donald.
“If he was made a prisoner for instance, he would pay handsomely to be released.”
“I should say so. He’s worth about $20,000,000.”
Broom smacked his lips.
“Some of that’s as good as ours if you do what I tell you,” he exclaimed.
“Ours?” A greedy look crept into the boy’s face.
“Yes, when he pays up you’ll get your share and get even with the people you dislike at the same time.”
When Donald left the place with one of his ragged pockets bulging with unaccustomed wealth, a compact had been formed that was to cause our friends a great deal of trouble in the near future.
