BOY SCOUTS IN SOUTHERN WATERS
Or, Spaniard's Treasure Chest
by
G. HARVEY RALPHSON
Author of _Boy Scouts In The North Sea_, _Under Fire In Flanders_,_Boy Scouts In An Airship_, _Boy Scouts In A Motor Boat_
1915
CONTENTS
I. A COLLISION IN THE FOG II. CRIPPLED BY THE STRANGER III. A MYSTERIOUS MESSAGE IV. THE HOLE IN THE BOAT V. WIG-WAGGING A WARNING VI. A MAROONED BOY SCOUT VII. THEIR PIRATE PRISONER VIII. JACK STRICKEN BY A BULLET IX. A NIGHT ATTACK X. FIRST AID AND AN ESCAPE XI. AN ELUSIVE BOB WHITE XII. SAVED BY A STRANGER XIII. A FRUITLESS SEARCH XIV. TWO BEAVERS IN PERIL XV. A SURPRISE AT THE FORTUNA XVI. RESCUE AND CAPTURE XVII. WHAT BURNED IN THE CABINXVIII. SHANGHAIED! XIX. TREACHERY EXPOSED XX. RESCUED AT SEA XXI. A FRIEND AND AN ENEMY XXII. A DESPERATE ATTEMPTXXIII. AT THE SPANISH FORT XXIV. DEFEATED BY GREED XXV. THE TREASURE
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BOY SCOUTS IN SOUTHERN WATERS OR THE SPANIARD'S TREASURE CHEST
CHAPTER I
A COLLISION IN THE FOG
"Wow! Look at that one! That's a monster!"
"That must be the ninth wave."
"What do you mean by the ninth wave, Jack?"
"Why, Arnold, don't you know that every third wave is bigger than thetwo preceding it and that every ninth wave is bigger than the precedingeight?" queried Jack Stanley.
"No, can't say that I ever knew that," replied Arnold Poysor leaning outof the pilot house of a sturdy motor boat plowing her way through thewaters of that part of the Gulf of Mexico known as Mississippi Sound."But I do know," he continued, "that if the Fortuna takes many moregreen ones over her bow, we'll have to get something other than oilskinsto keep us dry!"
"Gee, I wish this fog would lift and let us find out where we are!" putin a third member of the part. "This is fierce!"
"It's thicker than the mush we used to get in that South Water Streetrestaurant when we were fitting out in Chicago!" declared the firstspeaker. "That was a bum place to eat!"
"Never mind the eats!" replied the one addressed as "Jack." "Just youkeep that Klaxon going. You know we're on government waters here and thepilot rules require us to keep a fog signal sounding once every minute.We had hard enough work to convince the United States Inspectors thatthe Klaxon would make a perfectly good fog signal. Let's not fall downnow on the job of keeping it going."
"I'd hate like everything to have a collision!"
"So would we all!" declared the first speaker.
Four boys were standing in the pilot house of a sturdily built andsplendidly equipped motor boat that was being rolled and tossed by the,waves driven from the Gulf of Mexico before a southerly wind. Greatbanks of fog were rolling inland before the wind--fog so thick it wasscarcely possible to see a boat's length ahead.
The boys were all dressed in suits of oil skins under which might havebeen seen neat khaki Boy Scout Uniforms. If their jackets had beenexposed one might have distinguished medals that betokened membership inthe Beaver Patrol, Boy Scouts of America. Other insignia indicated tothe initiated that the boys had won distinction and were entitled to thehonors in Seamanship, Life Saving, Stalking and Signaling. On the jacketof the one addressed as "Jack" were insignia that betokened his rank asScout Master and also as Star Scout. These had been won by sheer merit.
All four were manly young fellows of about seventeen and, though young,their faces gave evidence of alert natures thoroughly reliable and readyfor any emergency.
Their vessel, the Fortuna, appeared fully equal to any task that mightbe expected of her. Trimly built and graceful, yet solidly and staunchlyconstructed, she rode the waves like a thing of life. Her engines, whichby common consent had been reduced to half speed in deference to thelaw, worked perfectly, driving the powerful hull through the watereasily. Just now she met the oncoming waves, driving into them with agood deal of spray about the bows.
Jack Stanley, Scout Master of the Beaver Patrol of Chicago, Boy Scoutsof America, was Captain of the Fortuna. His father was president of abank in Chicago and had requested Jack and his chums to take the Fortunafrom Chicago to Southern waters where they would later on be joined bythe banker for a cruise among the islands and points of interest in thatvicinity. Jack was a fine, manly lad who well deserved the honorsbestowed upon him. His companions were equally clean and worthy youngboys who were members of the Beaver Patrol and who all were devoted toJack.
Harry Harvey, an orphan, worked as messenger for one of the largetelegraph companies. He had seen a great deal of life and was far olderthan his years. Tom Blackwood worked as an inspector in one of the greatdepartment stores of State Street while Arnold Poysor was an apprenticein a printing establishment and was possessed of an ambition to become agreat journalist.
Without doubt it would have been difficult to find four more congeniallads than the crew of the Fortuna. Widely different in their appearancethey still gave one the impression that they all belonged to each other.There was the same fearless, honest look in their sparkling eyes, thesame erectness of carriage, the same confident walk that bespoke clean,ambitious, well-trained lives.
Just now they were all anxiously gathered in the pilot house eagerly onthe lookout for any possible danger that might be threatening them fromout the dense fog being swept inland by the wind. Harry was at the wheelwhile Jack stood with his hand close to the switchboard that governedthe engines pulsating below. Tom and Arnold were leaning half way out ofthe open windows heedless of the fog and the spray that now and againfell in sheets over the pilot house as the Fortuna thrust her nose intoa large wave.
"Great fishes!" ejaculated Tom. "I'd like to have a collision with someeats right soon. I'm nearly starved and drowned and several otherthings! I haven't eaten since we left Mobile!"
"Score one for Tom!" cried Harry. "He washes the dishes next time!Remember our bargain, old Scout," he continued. "Do you remember what weagreed to do when we left Chicago?"
"Could I forget it with your melodious Klaxon working overtime?" queriedTom. "Great Fishes isn't slang, though! Ask Jack."
"How about it, Jack?" asked Harry. "Does he wash or not wash, that's thequestion. Fair play here--let the umpire decide!"
Before he spoke, Jack pressed the button that actuated the Klaxon. Whenthe raucous noise of the fog horn had died away
he turned to the twodisputants with a quizzical look and said:
"You'd be more careful of your language if your mother were here,wouldn't you, Tom?" and then, as a look of triumph on the face ofexultant Harry was about to be followed by a shout of rejoicing, hecontinued. "And I'm sure that when Harry makes a mistake we'll all be asconsiderate of his feelings as we are able. But Tom washes the dishes asa penalty for using slang!" he announced in a tone of pleasant finalitythat was unmistakable.
"Who's going to be cook this next watch?" asked Arnold.
"It's my work, by the schedule," replied Jack, "but if you lads willexcuse me now, I'll do double duty later on. I hate to leave the deckeven for a few minutes. I don't feel at all easy!"
"Why, what can make you uneasy?" put in Harry.
"I don't know," Jack answered. "I suppose it's only a notion due toindigestion after eating some of Tom's cookery, but I have a sort ofuneasy feeling that something is going to happen and I want to be ondeck when it comes. That's all!"
"Well, I'm about starved and so if this portentous calamity will pleasepostpone its arrival until I get my lunch, I'll be much obliged!"remarked Arnold. "I'll go get dinner. I follow Jack on the cookingschedule. What'll it be, gentlemen?"
"More of that fine Red Snapper!" quickly answered Harry.
"If you boys can wait long enough, I'd like some of those famousbiscuits Arnold knows so well how to make," added Tom.
"And I," said Jack, "would like a double portion of both of those and acup of that excellent coffee we bought at Mobile."
"Wee, Mong Sewers! Zee Chef departs!" announced Arnold disappearing downthe stairs leading to the cabin from whence in a short time the aroma ofdelicious coffee was wafted up to the three boys in the pilot house,each striving to peer farther into the fog which seemed to be gettingthicker each passing moment.
"Seems to me I hear the booming of the surf on a jagged and rock boundcoast," remarked Harry after an interval of silence following the wailof the Klaxon fog signal being sounded at regular intervals.
"Harry, you ought to be serious once in a while!" admonished Jack."There are no rocks down in this part of the world. Everything is sandand lots of it. Besides the real coast is over here to our starboardhand side. You can't hear any surf there!"
"Maybe so, but I can hear what I believe to be the pounding of waves ona shore, just the same!" stoutly insisted Harry.
"Listen a minute," exclaimed Tom raising a hand for silence.
"There!" cried Harry after an interval. "There it is again!"
"Jack," Tom asked turning to his chum, "can you get it?"
With his face a trifle paler than was his wont, Jack nodded his head andwith his lips closed tightly peered into the fog.
"Great Wigglin' Pollywogs!" ejaculated Tom. "If we're into a surf theFortuna had better give up now! We can't ever expect to get out of thatsort of a mess with this little rabbit!"
"Two times heavy on the dish washing for Thomas!" gloated Harry. "Butwe're not into the surf yet a while! Listen!"
His hand was held up again for silence. From the cabin came the sound ofthe clock striking the hour in nautical fashion.
"Five bells!" announced Jack.
"Let's see," mused Harry. "I never can get used to that."
"Ten thirty," Tom put in, "if it was a railroader; half past o'clock foryou Dutchmen," he added with a chuckle, wrinkling a freckled nose atHarry and winking at Jack.
"All right!" assented Harry. "Log a surf heard at--how many bells? Oh,yes, five bells in the morning. Log Tom Blackwood for uncivil languageto an officer and for refusing duty under fire!"
"Hark, boys!" commanded Jack "We may be getting into a mess and it's notime for joking and carrying on like that!"
"You're right, Jack, as always!" assented Tom. "Just to show that I'mserious, I'll joke no more until this fog lifts!"
"Here, too!" declared Harry. "But look at Rowdy! What's the matter,Rowdy, old chap?" he continued as a great white bulldog came up theladder from the cabin. "What ails you?"
The bulldog was evidently excited about something for the hair on hisshoulders and neck was standing straight up while from his throat issueda low fierce growl scarcely audible above the noise of the tumblingwaters. His every action bespoke antipathy to something. Raising himselfupon his hind legs, the dog rested his paws upon the window sill of thepilot house. He peered eagerly into the white shroud of mist thatenveloped the motor boat.
"He hears that surf, too!" declared Tom. "He hears it!"
"I don't believe it's surf he hears," Jack stated. "He looks just likehe did back there in Mobile when we found that black browed fellowtrying to board the Fortuna.
"Good old Rowdy!" soothingly murmured Tom reaching over to give the doga pat. "What do you see, boy? Tell your friend."
"Looks to me like it might be a person he scents!" Harry stated. "Onlyit isn't a likely place for a person to be out in this mess!"
"We're out in this mess, aren't we?" objected Tom.
Jack's hands swiftly traveled over the switchboard seeming to find as ifby instinct just the right levers. The engines stopped and then reversedfull speed! The Fortuna shook and quivered from stern to stern. She felloff slightly into the trough.
"On deck!" shouted Jack. "Here's a collision."
Tom and Harry were on deck instantly. Jack leaned against theswitchboard and groaned. The next instant came a crash!