CHAPTER XI.
CAPTAIN LAWLESS TRIES TRICKERY.
“Do you intend to let them get away from us like this?”
It was Mate Durkee, of the _Tropic Bird_, who asked the question ofCaptain Lawless, as the two stood leaning on the schooner’s rail,watching the fast-diminishing form of the Motor Rangers’ capable craft.
The wind had fallen, and the schooner was dipping and rolling on theswells, with her canvas flapping idly. The crew, grouped in a massforward, were watching their superior officers with some curiosity.Plainly they were anxious to see how the situation was to be met.
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” demanded Lawless.
“I’ve got a plan, but it involves a good deal of risk,” was the reply.“Are you willing to take a chance?”
“I’m willing to do almost anything to get even on that outfit,” was theresponse, in a vicious tone.
“Then listen to me. I happen to know that we are not far from an islandwhere I’m pretty sure we can sell the schooner to the old chief for agood price. When that is done, we can get a canoe from him and havesome of his men paddle us out into the track of that line of Dutchsteamers that run from Manila to Callao. If we spin a good enough yarn,we can get passage all right.”
“Well, what then?” grunted Captain Lawless.
“Why, can’t you see? We’ll get from Callao to that Chilean port forwhich that outfit is bound in very little time. Once there, we can useour own judgment as to how to proceed. But I must admit, that I, forone, mean to get a chance at the treasures of the lost city.”
“Suppose we did make that island you are talking of,” said CaptainLawless, in tones that showed that the mate’s plan had made a deepimpression on him, “how soon would that Dutch steamer be going by?”
Mate Durkee made a rapid mental calculation.
“I used to run on the line, so I know their schedule pretty well,” hesaid. “She should be going by by to-morrow night, at latest.”
“Humph! But you don’t seem to have taken the crew into consideration.What are we going to do with them?”
“Oh, give them some sort of song and dance and abandon them. They canlive very well on the island till some vessel takes them off.”
This cold-blooded proposal seemed to banish Captain Lawless’ lastlingering trace of hesitation.
“It’s a good plan,” he said, “but a daring one. Suppose it ever leaksout how we sold the schooner? There’ll be a clear case of barratryagainst us.”
“So far as that is concerned,” urged Durkee, “we can’t be much worseoff than we are now, can we? That professor means to make things hotfor us in the States. I saw that in his eye. We must take refugesomewhere, and Chile looks about as good to me as any place I can thinkof right now.”
“I don’t know but what you’re right,” agreed Lawless. “Let’s go belowand look at the chart. How long ought it to be before we reach thisisland, if we get a good breeze?”
“Not more than eight hours. If the wind picks up, we should make alandfall before midnight.”
Some two hours later a spanking breeze arose out of the northwest. Theschooner’s sails bellied to it, and a spirit of joy was abroad amongthe crew. Their officers had promised them a quick run to a fineisland, and then unlimited shore leave. Little dreaming of the trapthat was being laid for them, the crew went about their tasks oftrimming sails with songs and glad shouts.
When twilight fell the schooner was bowling along at a twelve-knotgait, bound for the island of which Mate Durkee had spoken. It wasknown to him as Brigantine Island, although the charts called it Cook’sLand.
As the mate had foretold, it was not long after midnight when a cry of“Land ho!” rang out from the forward lookout. It was bright moonlight,and in the silvery radiance those on board the schooner had nodifficulty in making out a long, low elbow of land right ahead. Closeat hand they could hear the thunder of the surf as it broke on the reef.
“Do you know the passage?” asked the skipper of his mate.
“I could run it blindfold,” was the response. “Close haul on thosehead-sheets!” he called out. “Lively, now! Bring her about! That’s theway! Here, I’ll take the wheel myself!” he cried the next instant,springing to the helm.
Under his skillful guidance, for there was no denying that the rascalwas an able seaman, the _Tropic Bird_ was swung through the narrowpassage-way in the reef, and shot into the calm waters of the lagoonbeyond.
“Don’t seem to be much life ashore,” said Captain Lawless, scanning themoonlit island.
“Fire a rocket, and you’ll see the dingoes come running out of theirholes,” laughed the mate.
A big signal rocket was procured from the ship’s stores, and discharged.
As it burst in a cloud of blue flame, and the “bang” which accompaniedits bursting resounded loudly, lights began to flash on shore, and theycould see scores of dark figures scuttling about the white beach.
“What did I tell you?” said the mate, with a grin. “We’ll get a greatreception, all right.”
“They don’t happen to be cannibals, do they?” inquired Captain Lawlesstimidly, his habitual caution asserting itself.
The mate laughed.
“What a one you are to get scared, Lawless!” he said. “Your name don’tfit you a bit. Cannibals, is it? I should say not. Those chaps aremission natives—some of them—and as smart a bunch as you’d want to see.”
As there was no time to be lost, if they wished to carry out theiraudacious plan, the captain ordered a boat lowered and he and his matewent ashore immediately. The chief was soon found. In fact, he was downon the beach. He recognized Durkee, who seemed to have some sort of ahold over him, and negotiations for the sale of the schooner were atonce begun. Like most dealings with savage folk, it required a lot ofdiplomacy to accomplish the desired end. The trading was carried onunder a palm-thatched roof, while natives with torches stood all about.
If the two white men had not been so engrossed with their own affairs,they might have been inclined to admire the savage picturesqueness ofthe scene. But, as it was, they devoted their attention strictly tobusiness.
The chief, who rejoiced in the name of Billy Bowlegs—an appellation ofwhich he seemed quite proud—proved an adroit old bargainer. He spokeEnglish well, and was to the full as shrewd as any Caucasian trader.
But at last they managed to “make a deal,” as the saying is. BillyBowlegs was in need of a good schooner, and had long coveted the_Tropic Bird_, which was well known in those waters before CaptainLawless acquired her. The chief was willing to give three hundreddollars in cash and two valuable pearls, worth fully the same amounteach, for the craft.
As this was the best they could do, the two rascally white men agreedon this figure, and Billy Bowlegs agreed to give them transportation ina war canoe as far as the path of the Dutch liners, which passed toseaward of the island by fifty miles or so.
The crew, carousing and enjoying themselves in their own rough fashion,knew nothing of the departure of their captain and mate that morning,nor did those two worthies wish that they should. By the time theabandoned men awoke to the true state of affairs, Lawless and Durkeewere on board the Dutch steamer _Prinz Joachim_ of the Imperial Peruand Manila Line, bound for Callao. They were regarded with muchinterest on board the craft as two luckless mariners—rough buthonest—who had lost their vessel in the great magnetic storm.
And so, while the Motor Rangers were gleefully heading for the land ofthe lost city, their two malignant foes were likewise speeding towardSouth America on a fast, well-equipped vessel.