CHAPTER XI.

  THE SCHOONER.

  "Vat aboudt it, Tick?" queried Carl. "Dere iss more as vone poat namedder _Tolphin_, I bed you."

  "Sure; but there's no such happenchance in this case. Sixty's boat wasa brig, and that was her name. This boat's a square-rigged two-master,and the word _Dolphin_, plain as the nose on your face, is there on thestern. It's a cinch this was Sixty's boat."

  "Vell, subbosing id vas? Id don'd cut some ice. Ve're here, und Sixtyiss on der shdeamer. Led's go looking some more."

  "There's something main queer about all this tangle," muttered Dick,leading the way to the sliding doors of the after companion andremoving the tarpaulin. "This ought to take us into the captain'squarters, and maybe we'll find something there that will shed light onthe situation."

  The doors were locked, but Dick sent Carl for the axe and smashed themopen. The close air was almost stifling, but the boys faced it anddescended into the small cabin. A sextant and a chronometer were thefirst things Dick's eyes lighted upon.

  "If there are charts in that locker in the charthouse," he observed,"we can very easily tell whereabouts in the gulf we are."

  Carl wanted to know how this was to be done, but Dick did not have timeto explain, just then. He opened some windows, and the door leadingout through the break in the poop. This caused a refreshing current ofair to blow through the room.

  There was a bunk built against one wall, and, like those in thefo'c'sle and the charthouse, it was in a state of disorder. A sea chestwas near one wall. It was opened and, from the way its contents werescattered, it appeared to have been hastily rummaged.

  In the centre of the cabin was a table, securely bolted to the floor.Dick pulled open a drawer of the table and drew out a couple of papers.

  "The skipper got away in such a hurry," said Dick, "he didn't even taketime to get these."

  "Vat dey vas, anyhow?" inquired Carl, drawing close and looking overDick's shoulder.

  "The ship's log and her manifest," answered Carl.

  "Dot's a funny kind oof a log," said Carl. "Vy dey call some bapers alog?"

  "It is just a name, matey, and means a document in which the firstofficer sets down the things that happen to the ship, how far shesails, any notable things that occur, and so on. It's a sort of diary."

  "Vat a funny pitzness!" exclaimed Carl. "Und dot odder t'ing, vat yousay iss a manivest. Vat's dot?"

  "Why, a manifest is a paper signed by the master. It gives the vessel'sname and tonnage, the port she hails from and a full description ofthe cargo. This tells the number and character of the various boxes,bales and packages in the cargo, where they're taken aboard, and wherethey're going to. This is full of information for us, matey. And it'ssigned by James Sixty, as master, which proves conclusively that we'reon the boat that was once under his orders."

  "Meppy dot's righdt. Anyvay, id don'd make so mooch tifference so longas Sixdy ain'd here now."

  "But it's queer we happened to slam into his boat during the storm lastnight."

  "Forged aboudt dot und dell me vere der prig comes from, vat she's gotapoardt, und how mooch salvage ve ged oof ve take her py New Orleans."

  An examination of the log and the manifest showed the boys that the_Dolphin_ had been doing some great stunts at traveling. Her last portof call was New Orleans, where she had discharged some manufacturedproducts from Liverpool and filled out the available space in her holdwith oak barrel staves. On her way from Liverpool she had also put inat Boston and taken on a consignment of mill work--that is, doors,sashes, window frames, etc.--which was to go to Belize. Before reachingLiverpool, the _Dolphin_ had called at Lisbon, Portugal, for part of aload of cork. Previous to reaching Lisbon she had picked up some hempand sugar and copra at Manila, which she had put ashore at Liverpool.Originally, the brig had cleared from San Francisco.

  "Dot mixes me all oop," muttered Carl, who had seated himself in achair while listening to Dick's reading.

  "Belize seems to be the place she was going to when she left NewOrleans," said Dick. "It appears, too, that she took on canned goodsin addition to mill work in Boston, and that both were for BritishHonduras. We'd better go down in the hold and hunt for those cannedgoods."

  Carl was immensely delighted with the proposition; anything that hada prospect of food at the end of it always made a hit with him. Alantern was secured in the captain's cabin, lighted with a match fromthe galley, and the boys stripped open a hatch and got into the 'tweendecks.

  Between the main and the lower deck there was a good deal of water, andbarrel staves were floating in every direction. There were a number ofboxes snugly stowed out of reach of the water, however, and Dick, bythe aid of the lantern, discovered that some of the upper boxes werefilled with canned pork and beans.

  "Yah," chuckled Carl, clinging to the iron ladder that led down fromthe hatch, "I bed you dot come from Poston! Iss id der parrel staves,Tick, vat keeps der wreck afloat?"

  "No," answered Dick, crawling over the cargo and pushing the lanternahead of him, "there are not enough staves to do that, although, ofcourse, they help--and so does the mill work. The cork, though, must bedown in the lower hold, and that, I take it, is what buoys the ship upprincipally. Cork is a great---- Well, keelhaul me!"

  Dick broke off his words with a startled exclamation.

  "Vat's to pay now?" cried Carl.

  "There's something here, matey, that's not down in the manifest."

  "Vat id iss?"

  "Boxes of ammunition and Krag-Jorgensen rifles."

  "Hoop-a-la! Meppy olt Sixdy vas going to durn birate, und dot a galeplew along, wrecked der prig und made him shange his mindt. Vell, nefermindt dot shtuff, Tick. Der pork und peans iss ammunidion enough forme. Id's pooty near tinner dime, so come on mit a pox."

  Dick finished inspecting the rifles and ammunition and crawled backalong the piles of boxes and over the sloshing water. Between the twoof them, the boys succeeded in getting a case of the canned beans up onthe deck.

  "Sixty is an old law-breaker," averred Dick. "I had already sized himup for being a beach comber and I can't understand why Captain Nemo,Jr., has anything to do with him."

  "Meppy Nemo, Jr., don'd have somet'ing to do mit him, und dot vat Sixdytoldt us vas all some cock-und-pull shtories. Aber vat makes you t'inkhe vas a law-preaker?"

  "Those rifles and that ammunition. Things like those, Carl, whenthey're not down in a ship's manifest were not taken aboard for anyproper purpose. My eye! I'd give something handsome to know what's up."

  While Carl was opening the box of beans and getting dinner, Dick beganclearing the deck of the raffle of cordage that covered it. By the timehe had finished and cast the splintered yards adrift, Carl was out ofthe galley and calling for him to come and eat.

  In the afternoon the boys brought the bedding from the bunks in thecharthouse and spread it on the deck to dry in the sun; then theywent down into the 'tween-decks again and looked over as much of thecargo as was above water. They discovered that the freight of arms andammunition was quite extensive. Carl could not work up much interestin the rifles and cartridges, but, while Dick was prowling through thewet hold looking them over, he dug out a box of tinned beef and a caskof ship's biscuit. With these discoveries they were able to vary theirsupper menu.

  Leaving Carl to get supper, Dick hunted up two more lanterns andtrimmed and lighted them and hung them forward, aft and amidships ofthe wreck.

  "I'm tired enough to do a caulk to the king's taste," said Dick, as heleft the galley and cast a self-satisfied glance at the lights, "but wecan't both of us turn in. We'll have to stand watch and watch. Do youwant the first half of the night or the last half?"

  "Vat's der use oof shtanding vatch?" protested Carl. "Dere von't nopodyshdeal der poat, und oof ve vas going to run indo anypody ve couldn'thelup dot."

  "It's necessary, Carl," answered Dick, "to know all that takes placewhile we're on the brig. If our lights should attract any vessel that'spassing, one of us ought to be on the
alert to answer a hail."

  "All righdt. I'll take der fairst vatch, und I vill call you py derchronomoder in der gaptain's room."

  Dick had wound the chronometer and set it by guess. The timepiece mightbe off schedule by an hour or so, but it would serve for dividing thewatches.

  Leaving Carl by the galley, Dick climbed to the poop deck and went tothe charthouse and turned in. Carl's mind was running on "spooks" agood deal, and the swish of water under the deck, and the grinding andthumping of the floating staves, kept his fears and his imaginationworking overtime.

  However, nothing happened; and, after he had gone into the cabin sevenor eight times and consulted the chronometer, he at last found it to betwelve o'clock and bounded up the poop-deck steps.

  Dick had slept soundly, and when he went forward Carl crept into hiswarm blankets and was snoring almost as soon as his head was on thepillow.

  It seemed to him that he had no more than closed his eyes before he wasbrought up in his bunk by a loud yell. It was daylight, and the sun wasshining through the open door of the charthouse.

  "Carl! Come out here!"

  Carl leaped from the bunk and hurried out on the deck and to the brokenmonkey rail.

  From the rail he could look down on the main deck and get a good viewof Dick.

  The sailor had found a piece of canvas and was standing on the stump ofone of the masts, waving a signal.

  Carl's eyes wandered out over the water, and his heart gave a bound asthey rested on a sail not more than half a mile away.

  "It's a schooner," shouted Dick, "and her lookout has seen us! Thecraft's lying-to, matey, and we'll be taken off this old hulk in abrace of shakes."

  "Hoop-a-la!" shouted Carl.

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels