Kitabı oku: «The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless: or, the Dot, Dash and Dare Cruise», sayfa 5
CHAPTER IX
MR. SEATON UNBURDENS HIMSELF
“Really, I see no reason why I shouldn’t tell you,” went on the charter-man of the “Restless.” “When I first engaged you youngsters and your boat for this month I had little more in mind than using your boat for pleasure cruising about here. Yet the fact that you had a wireless equipment aboard the ‘Restless’ did influence me not a little, for I had at least a suspicion that big affairs might come to pass, and that telegraphing from ship to ship might be wonderfully convenient.
“At the same time, I was careful to look up the references that you gave me, Captain Halstead. Those references were so wholly satisfactory that I know I can trust you to serve me as bravely and loyally as you have, in the past, been called upon to serve others. And now, just for the reason that you may be called upon to take some big fighting chances for me, I’m going to tell you what lies back of the curtain of mystery that you’ve been staring at.”
As his voice died out Powell Seaton arose, locked the door and glanced out through the windows. Then he returned to the table, motioning to the boys to incline their heads close to his.
“Probably,” began their host, “you’ve regarded me as a wealthy man, and, until the last two or three days, as one of leisure. I am reasonably well-to-do in this world’s goods, but most of my life, since I was twenty, has been passed in storm and stress.
“It is not necessary to tell you all about the life that I have led. It will be enough to tell you that, three years ago, not satisfied that my fortune was large enough, I went to Brazil in order to learn what chance there might be of picking up money fast in that country.
“In Brazil there are many ways of making a fortune, though perhaps not as many as right here at home. However, there are fewer fortune-seekers there. In coffee, rubber and in many other staples fortunes may be made in Brazil, but the biggest, wildest, most desperate and scrambling gamble of all is found in the diamond-digging fields.
“Most of the diamond fields have, perhaps, been discovered, and their working has become systematized to a regular, dividend-paying basis. There are still, however, some fields not yet located. It was a small field, but one which I believe may be worth millions, that I located somewhat more than a year ago. See here!”
From an inner pocket Powell Seaton drew forth an ordinary wallet. Opening it, he dropped out on the table six diamonds. Though none was of great size, all of the stones were of such purity and such flashing brilliancy that the motor boat boys gazed at them in fascination.
“They must be worth a fortune,” declared Hank Butts, in an awed, subdued tone.
“Not exactly,” smiled Mr. Seaton. “These stones have been appraised, I believe, at about twelve thousand dollars.”
After passing the gems from hand to hand, the owner of the bungalow replaced them in the wallet, returning the latter to the same pocket before he resumed:
“This new diamond field, a patent to which has not yet been filed with the Brazilian Government, is in the state of Vahia. There is no harm in telling anyone that, as Vahia is a state of great area. It is in a section little likely to be suspected as a diamond field, and the chance that someone else will accidentally discover and locate it is not large.”
“Yet you know the exact location – can go right to it?” breathed Tom Halstead, his eyes turned squarely on Mr. Seaton’s.
“Yes, but I don’t dare go to it,” came the smiling answer.
“Oh! May I ask why not, sir?”
“The Government of Brazil is, in the main, an honest one,” replied Powell Seaton. “The President of that country is an exactly just and honorable man. Yet not quite as much can be said for the governments of some of the states of that country. The governor of Vahia, Terrero, by name, is probably one of the worst little despots in South America.
“Now, as it happened, before I came to know anything about this new diamond field I had the bad fortune to make an enemy of Governor Terrero. Some American friends were being shamefully treated by this rascally governor, and I felt called upon to become mixed up in the affair. I even went so far that I incurred the deadly hatred of Terrero. It was right after this that I came upon my diamond field. But Terrero’s enmity was pressing upon me, and I had to flee from Brazil.”
“Why?” asked Tom, wonderingly.
“Do you know how things are done in South America?” demanded Powell Seaton, impressively. “If a man like Terrero hates you, he has only to inspire someone to prefer a serious charge against you. The charge may be wholly false, of course, but officers and soldiers are sent, in the dead of the night, to arrest you. These wretches, when they serve wicked enough officials, shoot you down in cold blood. Then they lay beside your body a revolver in which are two or three discharged cartridges. They report, officially, that you resisted arrest and did your best to kill the members of the arresting party. This infamous lie all becomes a matter of official record. Then what can the United States Government do about it? And the governor, or other rascally official, has triumphed over you, and the matter is closed. Though an honest man, Halstead, you are officially a desperate character who had to be killed by the law’s servants. It was such a fate that Terrero was preparing for me, but I escaped his wicked designs.”
“That must be a nice country!” murmured Hank Butts.
“Yet you say the President of Brazil is an honorable man?” asked Halstead. “Can’t he remove such a governor?”
“The President would, in a moment, if he could be supplied with proofs,” rejoined Powell Seaton, with emphasis. “Governor Terrero is a wily, smooth scoundrel who is well served by men of his own choice stamp. Terrero is wealthy, and backed by many other wealthy men who have been growing rich in the diamond fields. In fact, though they are wonderfully smooth about it, the Terrero gang are terrors to all honest diamond men in that one part of Brazil.”
“So, then,” hinted Captain Tom, “you know where to find one of the rich diamond mines of the world, but you don’t dare go to it?”
“I’d dare,” retorted Mr. Seaton, his eyes flashing. “But what would be the use of daring? I am almost certain to be killed if I ever show my face in Vahia while Terrero is alive. So, then, this is what I have done: Since my return to this country I have been arranging, ever so quietly, with moneyed men who have faith in me and in my honesty. After much dickering we have arranged a syndicate that is backed by millions of dollars, if need be. And we may need to spend a good deal of money before we get through. We may even have to try to turn Terrero’s most trusted lieutenants against him. We won’t, if we can help it, but we may have to. The stake is a big one!
“Through turning this business over to the syndicate I am bound to lose the greater portion of the fortune that might have been mine from this great enterprise. Yet, even as it is, I stand to reap rich returns if ever the syndicate can locate and secure the patent to the diamond fields that I discovered.
“At this moment three members of our syndicate are in Rio Janeiro. They are big, solid American men of moneyed affairs. As far as they permit to be known, they are in Brazil only as a matter of vacation and pleasure. In truth, they are awaiting the arrival of Albert Clodis on the ‘Constant.’ When he had arrived, with the papers from me showing where and how to locate the diamond field, they were to have moved quickly, spending plenty of money, and filing a patent to the fields. Under the law the Brazilian Government would be entitled to a large share of the find in precious stones, but even at that our share would have been enormous. Once the patent to the diamond field was filed, the President and the whole National Government of that country could be depended upon to protect the owner’s rights, even against the greed and treachery of Terrero. So all that appeared to be left to do was to get to my friends of the syndicate the two sets of papers that would enable them to locate the unknown diamond field. Neither set of papers is worth anything by itself, but with the two sets the field can be promptly located.
“My first thought was to send the two sets of papers by two different men. Yet, strange as it may appear to you boys, I could not decide upon two men whom I felt I could fully trust under all circumstances. You have no idea how I have been watched, the last year, by agents of Terrero. Dalton, though an American, is one of the worst of these secret agents of the governor of Vahia. I knew how thoroughly I was being watched, and I, in turn, have had others watching Anson Dalton as effectively as it could be done in a free country like the United States.
“Well, to make this long story short, when I had all else in readiness I decided upon Bert Clodis as the one man I could fully trust to deliver the two sets of papers to the members of the syndicate at Rio Janeiro. I believed, too, at the time, though I could not be sure, that my relations with Bert Clodis were unknown to Anson Dalton.
“Yet, not for a moment did I trust too thoroughly to that belief. I had Dalton watched. If he engaged passage aboard the ‘Constant,’ my suspicions would be at once aroused. We now know that he secured passage, by mail, under the name of Arthur Hilton. Beyond the slightest doubt Dalton, that infernal spy, had succeeded in discovering that I was sending Clodis with the papers. Yet Dalton, or Hilton, as he chose to call himself, did not go aboard the ‘Constant’ openly at New York. I can only guess that he boarded from the tug that took off the pilot when the liner had reached open sea.
“I had impressed upon Bert Clodis the importance of keeping the two sets of papers apart, and had advised him that it might not be safe to deposit either in the purser’s safe, from which they might be taken through the means of a deep-sea burglary.
“So the probability is that Bert Clodis had one set of papers concealed on his person. The other set of papers – the one I now have safe – he seems to have put away in his trunk, believing that no one seeking to rob him would think him simple enough to leave valuable papers in a trunk that could be rather easily entered in the hold of a liner.
“As I have already told you, I had the ship watched at New York, and received a message, after her sailing, which told me that no one answering Dalton’s description had boarded the ‘Constant’ at her pier.
“As the liner entered this latitude Bert Clodis was to send off a wireless message which, though apparently rather blind, would be enough to advise me that no one answering to Dalton’s description had appeared among the passengers or crew of the ‘Constant.’ This news I awaited at the wireless station at Beaufort, and you can imagine my anxiety.”
“That was why, then,” broke in Joe, suddenly, “when I received that message about the injury to Mr. Clodis, you were able to break in so quickly?”
“Yes,” nodded Mr. Seaton. “I was waiting, and was on tenterhooks. I would have joined you, and would have gone out in haste to receive Bert Clodis myself, but I realized that, if I delayed you, the big liner would get past us, and Bert Clodis must most likely die on the way to Brazil.”
“Why weren’t you out here, sir, at this bungalow, where you could have received the message as well, and then have gone out with us on the ‘Restless’?” inquired Tom Halstead, with deepest interest in this strange narration.
“I was at Beaufort,” responded Mr. Seaton, “because I felt it very necessary to be where I could use a private wire to New York that I had reserved. I was, at that time, waiting for word from New York of any possible discovery that could be made concerning the movements of the infamous Dalton, whom I did not then know, or believe, to be on board the ‘Constant.’”
There was silence for a few moments, but Powell Seaton at last went on, thoughtfully:
“We now know that Bert Clodis did not deposit any papers with the purser of the ship. One set of the papers, therefore, must have been tucked away in his clothing. Dalton, after assaulting Bert Clodis, or having it done, must have rifled his pockets and found one set. He even had time to look through them and discover that that set was incomplete. Then, on seeing Clodis’s trunk go aboard the ‘Restless’ with the injured man, Dalton guessed that the remaining papers might be in the trunk. That was why Dalton decided to leave the ‘Constant.’ But your flat refusal to let him go down into the cabin, where the baggage had been taken, foiled the fellow at that point. Then, fearing that he would run into me, and that I might even resort to violence, Dalton hailed that schooner, the ‘Black Betty,’ and made his momentary escape.”
“No doubt,” interposed Halstead, “Dalton has had plenty of chance to put his set of the stolen papers in safe hiding. But isn’t it barely likely that he had already engaged Captain Dave Lemly to be hanging about in these waters with that little black schooner?”
“Wholly likely,” nodded Mr. Seaton, thoughtfully. “However, boys, I have trusted you with as much as my very life is worth in telling you all this. I would rather lose my life than see my friends, as well as myself, beaten in this great diamond game. As the matter now stands, Dalton has won the first step, but he hasn’t enough knowledge to enable his employer, Terrero, to locate my precious find. I can duplicate the missing papers, and the other set, which I have here secure, I must also send to Rio Janeiro by some other most trusted messenger, should Clodis, poor fellow, die, or prove unfit to make another attempt.”
“And do you think, sir, that there’s only one honest man on earth?” asked Tom Halstead, in considerable surprise.
“There are several men that I believe to be honest,” returned the owner of the bungalow, “yet only one that I know to be honest, and who possesses at the same time the judgment to undertake a mission like the one I have been telling you about.”
“Then it won’t really do Dalton any good to start for Brazil unless he can get hold of the contents of the other set of papers?” Halstead asked, after a pause of a few moments.
“Not until the fellow can get his clutches on the papers that I have secretly locked in that closet over there,” confirmed Mr. Seaton. “And I have told none but you trustworthy youngsters that the other set is hidden in such an easy place to get at.”
Then, as though struck by a thought, Powell Seaton crossed the room, drawing his key-ring from a pocket. He fitted the right key to the door, and swung the latter open. An instant more, and there came from Mr. Seaton’s lips a cry much like the frightened howl of a wild beast.
“The second set of papers is gone – stolen from here!”
There was an almost simultaneous gasp of consternation from the three Motor Boat Club boys as they rushed forward. But they had no need to search. Seaton had done that thoroughly, and now he turned to eye them. As he stared – or glared – a new thought came into Seaton’s mind, reflecting itself in his eyes. The boys could see him fighting against his own new suspicion.
“Halstead,” cried Powell Seaton, clutching at the side of the doorway, “I told you all about this hiding place. I trusted you!”
It was Tom Halstead’s turn to go deathly white and stagger.
“Do you mean, sir, that YOU SUSPECT ME?” demanded the young skipper, in a voice choked with horror.
CHAPTER X
THE TRAITOR AT THE AERIALS
“Wait! Don’t take anything too seriously. I’ve – got to – think!”
Powell Seaton had stood, for two or three moments, staring from Halstead to the other motor boat boys.
“Humph! Well, this is good, but I don’t like it,” grimaced Hank Butts, taking two steps backward.
Powell Seaton began to pace the room, his hands at his head. He looked like one who suddenly found it impossible to think.
Hank opened his mouth to say something angry, but Captain Tom checked him with a look and a gesture.
“May we search in that closet for you, sir?” called Halstead, when a thud told that the owner of the bungalow had dropped heavily back into his chair.
“You may look there, if you want to. Anyone may look there – now!” uttered the amazed one.
Without saying more Tom, in deep agitation, began the task he had invited upon himself. Joe Dawson came and stood looking quietly over his chum’s shoulder, ready to help if necessary. As for Hank, he stood, a picture of injured pride, staring at the distracted man.
“No; there’s nothing here,” admitted Halstead, at last. “At least, the only thing we’re interested in isn’t here.”
“Of course it isn’t,” moaned Seaton. “Yet you boys were the only ones I told. And, the only time I left the house, it was safe upon my return. I also told you boys that.”
“If he keeps on talking in that strain,” muttered Hank, half-aloud, “I’ll make his head ache!”
“No, you won’t,” uttered Captain Tom, gripping his comrade’s arm almost fiercely. “There’s trouble enough on the premises as it is. Hold your tongue, Hank, until we’re all in a good mood to say pleasant things.”
Thereupon, with a snort, Hank dragged a chair into a far corner, and seated himself in it.
Halstead walked slowly to the table, on which Mr. Seaton was resting his elbows, his face buried in his hands.
“There must be some explanation for this, Mr. Seaton,” began the young motor boat skipper, more calmly. “I don’t mind your first suspicion of me, because–”
“Not you, more than the others,” broke in the bungalow’s owner, excitedly. “All of you young men knew about the hiding-place. You were the only ones besides myself who did know.”
Again Hank gripped his fists tightly, but a stern look from Joe Dawson prevented Butts from giving any further expression of his feelings.
“Don’t sit there like that, Mr. Seaton,” broke in Tom Halstead, once more. “Whatever has happened, something must be done – and it must be the right thing, and at once.”
“You can search us, if you want–” began Hank’s growling voice, but Joe Dawson stood before him, towering in grim purpose.
“Don’t you open your mouth again, Hank, until you’ve collected some sense,” warned Joe. “Let Tom do the talking. He’s the captain, anyway.”
“You’re right,” responded Powell Seaton, looking up in a good deal of a daze. “I must do something – quickly – yet what?”
“If anyone has stolen the final set of papers,” advanced the young skipper, “it must have been either Dalton or someone working for him. In either case, Dalton must now have the papers, or he soon will have.”
“But what does this lead to?” inquired Mr. Seaton, regarding his young captain dubiously.
“Why, sir, it must be plain that the best course is to drop all other steps and concentrate every bit of your energy and ingenuity on getting hold of Anson Dalton.”
“Yet what can I do to him, if I do?”
“In the first place, you might charge him with being the man who struck Albert Clodis over the head. That would be enough to have your man arrested on, even if you couldn’t prove the charge. A charge that you can fight on is that of having helped to steal the ‘Restless’ the other night. If you can only get the fellow locked up, then you’ll have more time to find out whether there’s any way of getting the missing papers away from him, or from any hiding place in which he has put them.”
“Lock the fellow up?” jeered Powell Seaton. “Bah, boy, you don’t seem to realize the money that’s behind him. Ten thousand dollars, or a hundred thousand, it would all be the same, and Dalton, out on bail, could flee in whatever direction he wanted to.”
“Then what are you going to do?” demanded Captain Tom, incisively.
In this instant of utter uncertainty a tinkling of a bell broke in upon them. It was the call bell that Dawson had attached to the wireless apparatus.
“Remember, you keep quiet,” almost whispered Joe to Hank, then quitted the room hastily. Butts suddenly began to grin sheepishly. Rising, he sauntered over to a window.
Joe had hurried to the wireless room on the mere chance that it might be a message for Lonely Island. It was much more likely to be the regular business of ships passing on the sea. But as he entered the room Dawson heard the clicking call from a receiving instrument:
“CBA! CBA!” That was Lonely Island’s call surely enough.
Breaking in at the key, Joe sent the sparks chasing each other up the aerials. Having answered, he slipped on the head-band, fitting the watch-case receivers over his ears. Picking up a pencil, he wrote.
It was a rush telegram from Mr. Seaton’s lawyer, up at Beaufort, and it read:
Man much resembles description of Dalton has just been reported embarking on seventy-foot cruising motor boat ten miles above this city. Man in command of boat positively said to be Captain Dave Lemly.
“Remain at wire for further talk,” Joe’s trembling fingers signaled back. Then, leaping up, he bounded into the next room.
“Read it to me,” Powell Seaton begged.
Tom Halstead took the sheet, reading rapidly yet clearly. The young skipper was excited, though he forced himself to remain cool.
“There’s your call to action, Mr. Seaton,” he wound up with.
“Yes, but what action?” demanded the owner of the bungalow. Ever since the discovery of the loss of the papers this man had seemed all but unable to speak.
“We’ve got to overhaul that other motor boat, though her length will have to be description enough if we can’t get a better one,” declared the young skipper. “Hank, go down and open up the motor room. Start the motors going, though be gentle. Don’t break anything, or put the motors out of business. Joe, go back to the wireless, and see whether you can get a more exact description of that boat – especially the course she is believed to have sailed on. Hustle! Mr. Seaton, hadn’t you better inform Dr. Cosgrove that you’ll be absent for a while?”
The owner of the bungalow moved as though glad of directions that saved him the trouble of thinking.
Joe promptly sent a wireless back to Beaufort asking for a better description of the seventy-footer and the last course upon which she had been seen.
The only further word the lawyer’s informant could furnish, as Joe ascertained ten minutes later, was that the boat was painted a drab tint and had a “smoke-stack” ventilator. When last seen the boat was heading out nearly due east from her starting-point.
“Going out to meet a liner, for some port,” clicked Tom, as he heard the news. “Well, it’s our business to find that drab motor boat.”
As Joe caught up his cap, Mr. Seaton looked rather uncertainly from one boy to the other.
“You say we’re to go out on this jaunt over the water,” remarked the owner of the bungalow. “But I don’t know. Perhaps you want me to go too badly. There may be something behind–”
“Stop right where you are, if you please, sir,” broke in Tom Halstead, a decided trace of bitterness in his tone. “You’re still more than half-inclined to suspect us boys of causing the loss of the papers you had hidden in the closet. I am not blaming you altogether, Mr. Seaton, though you are doing us a great injustice. But you must believe in us just at the present time, for going with us offers you your only chance of catching up with Dalton and saving your own friends of the syndicate. Come along, sir! Try to trust us, whether it seems wise or not, since it’s your only chance.”
The young skipper seized his charter-man by one arm, almost dragging him along. Yet Powell Seaton, who was in a state of horrible uncertainty, permitted this forcing.
Outside, on the porch, Captain Tom hesitated for a moment, then, after glancing at the guards, went on briskly:
“Mr. Seaton, I know you don’t want to carry an armed force for purposes of attack on anyone, and you wouldn’t have a right to do it, anyway. But, as we may be attacked, if we run afoul of Dalton and his friends, won’t it be much better if you take at least a couple of your armed guards from this place?”
Nodding curtly, Mr. Seaton called to Hepton and Jasper, two of the guards, explaining that they were needed for a cruise on the “Restless.” The pair followed along after the others.
“You can keep your rifles, just as well, in the motor room,” suggested Captain Tom, and the fire-arms were placed below.
Hank had everything in readiness for casting off. Within forty-five seconds after boarding, the “Restless” was under way, poking her nose in a north-easterly direction.
“We’d better loaf later on, rather than now, Joe,” proposed the young skipper. “See how much speed you can crowd out of the motors.”
Powell Seaton chose to go aft, all alone, dropping into one of the deck arm-chairs. For a long time he remained there, moody and silent.
“What liner do you figure on Dalton trying to overtake and board?” queried Joe, coming up at last out of the motor room.
“Why, I don’t just know,” confessed Tom, pondering. “But I’ll tell you what you can do, Joe. Leave Hank to watch the motors. You go to the wireless apparatus and send out the longest spark you can get. Direct your call to any vessel bound for Rio Janerio, or Brazil in general. If you get an answer from such a craft, ask her latitude and longitude, course and speed, so we can make for her directly.”
As Joe nodded, then dropped down into the motor room, intending to go by the passageway under the bridge deck, Tom noted a lurking figure a few feet behind him.
“Hullo! What are you doing there, Jasper?” queried the young captain.
“Jest mindin’ my own business,” replied the man, with a half-surly grin.
“I’m minding mine, in asking you,” retorted Halstead, quietly. “I don’t like passengers so close to me when I’m handling the boat.”
“I s’pose mebbe you don’t,” rejoined Jasper, yet making no move.
“Won’t you take a hint?” asked Tom, rather bluntly.
“Where d’ye want me to stand?” asked the fellow, sulkily.
“You could go further aft, for instance,” replied Tom. One hand on the wheel, he stood half-turned, eying this stubborn guard.
“Oh, all right,” came gruffly from Jasper, as he started slowly aft.
“Maybe I’m wrong for thinking much about it,” muttered Tom, under his breath, “yet it was this same man who was so close to us the other night when Mr. Seaton and I were talking about the papers hidden in the closet at the bungalow.”
Two or three minutes later a slight sound caused the young skipper to turn with a start. He saw Jasper in the very act of fitting a wire-nipper to one of the parallel wires of the aerial of the wireless.
In an instant Captain Tom Halstead jammed his wheel and locked it. Then he dashed at the fellow.
