Chapter 8

"Senator!" said Macloud, a little later, when they had finished luncheon. "I want to ask a slight favor--not political however--so it won't have to be endorsed by the organization."

The Senator laughed. "In that event, it is granted before you ask. What is it I can do?"

"Have the Secretary of the Navy issue us a permit to camp on Greenberry Point."

"Where the devil is Greenberry Point?" said Rickrose.

"Across the Severn River from Annapolis."

Rickrose turned in his chair and glanced over the dining-room. Then he raised his hand to the head waiter.

"Has the Secretary of the Navy had luncheon?" he asked.

"Yes, sir--before you came in."

The Senator nodded.

"We would better go over to the Department, at once, or we shall miss him," he said. "Chevy Chase is the drawing card, in the afternoon."

The reception hour was long passed, but the Secretary was in and would see Senator Rickrose. He came forward to meet him--a tall, middle-aged, well-groomed man, with sandy hair, whose principal recommendation for the post he filled was the fact that he was the largest contributor to the campaign fund in his State, and his senior senator needed him in his business, and had refrigerated him into the Cabinet for safe keeping--that being the only job which insured him from being a candidate for the Senator's own seat. It is a great game, is politics!

"Mr. Secretary!" said Rickrose, "my friends want a permit to camp for two weeks on Greenberry Point."

"Greenbury Point!" said the Secretary, vaguely--"that's somewhere out in San Francisco harbor?"

"Not the Greenberry Point they mean," the Senator replied. "It's down at Annapolis--across the Severn from the Naval Academy, and forms part of that command, I presume. It is waste land, unfortified and wind swept."

"Oh! to be sure. I know it. Why wouldn't the Superintendent give you a permit?" turning to Macloud. "It is within his jurisdiction."

"We didn't think to ask him," said Macloud. "We supposed it was necessary to apply direct to you."

"They are not familiar with the customs of the service," explained Rickrose, "and, as I may run down to see them, just issue the permit to me and party. The Chairman of the Naval Affairs Committee is inspecting the Point, if you need an excuse."

"Oh, no! none whatever--however, a duplicate will be forwarded to the Superintendent. If it should prove incompatible with the interests of the service," smiling, "he will inform the Department, and we shall have to revoke it."

He rang for his stenographer and dictated the permit. When it came in, he signed it and passed it over to Rickrose.

"Anything else I can do for you, Senator?" he asked.

"Not to-day, thank you, Mr. Secretary," Rickrose answered.

"Do you actually intend to come down?" asked Macloud, when they were in the corridor. "That will be bully."

He shot a look at Croyden. His face was a study. Hunting the Parmenter treasure, with the Chairman of the Naval Affairs Committee as a disinterested spectator, was rather startling, to say the least. The Senator's reply reassured them.

"Impossible!" he said. "The campaign opens next week, and I'm drawn as a spell-binder in the Pacific States. That figurehead was ruffling his feathers on you, just to show himself, so I thought I'd comb him down a bit. You'll experience no difficulty, I fancy. If you do, wire me, and I'll get busy. I've got to go over to the State Department now, so I'll say good-bye--anything else you want let me know."

"Next for a sporting goods shop," said Macloud as they went down the steps into Pennsylvania Avenue; "for a supply of small arms and ammunition--and, incidentally, a couple of tents. We can get a few cooking utensils in Annapolis, but we will take our meals at Carvel Hall. I think neither of us is quite ready to turn cook."

"I am sure, I'm content!" laughed Croyden. "We can hire a horse and buggy by the week, and keep them handy--better get a small tent for the horse, while we're about it."

They went to a shop on F Street, where they purchased three tents of suitable size, two Winchester rifles, and a pair of Colt's military revolvers with six-and-a-half inch barrels, and the necessary ammunition. These they directed should be sent to Annapolis immediately. Cots and blankets could be procured there, with whatever else was necessary.

They were bound up F Street, toward the Electric Station, when Macloud broke out.

"If we had another man with us, your imprisonment idea would not be so difficult--we could bag our game much more easily, and guard them more securely when we had them. As it is, it's mighty puzzling to arrange."

"True enough!" said Croyden, "but where is the man who is trustworthy--not to mention willing to take the risk, of being killed or tried for murder, for someone else's benefit? They're not many like you, Colin."

A man, who was looking listlessly in a window just ahead, turned away. He bore an air of dejection, and his clothes, while well cut, were beginning to show hard usage and carelessness.

"Axtell!" Macloud observed--"and on his uppers!"

"There's our man!" exclaimed Croyden. "He is down hard, a little money with a small divide, if successful, will get him. What do you say?"

"Nothing!" replied Macloud. "It's up to you."

Axtell saw them; he hesitated, whether to speak or to go on. Croyden solved the question.

"Hello! Axtell, what are you doing here?" he said, extending his hand.

Axtell grasped it, as a drowning man a straw.

"You're kind to ask, Mr. Croyden! Mighty kind in one who lost so much through us."

"You were not to blame--Royster's responsible, and he's gone----"

"To hell!" Axtell interrupted, bitterly. "May he burn forever!"

"Amen to that wish!" Croyden smiled. "Meanwhile, can I do anything for you? You're having a run of hard luck, aren't you?"

For a moment, Axtell did not answer--he was gulping down his thoughts.

"I am," he said. "I've just ten dollars to my name. I came here thinking the Congressmen, who made piles through our office, would get me something, but they gave me the marble stare. I was good enough to tip them off and do favors for them, but they're not remembering me now. Do you know where I can get a job?"

"Yes--I'll give you fifty dollars and board, if you will come with us for two weeks. Will you take it?"

"Will I take it?--Well, rather!"

"What you're to do, with Mr. Macloud and myself, we will disclose later. If, then, you don't care to aid us, we must ask you to keep silence about it."

"I don't want to know anything!" said Axtell. "I'll do my part, and ask no questions--and thank you for trusting me. You're the first man since our failure, who hasn't hit me in the face--don't you think I appreciate it?"

"Very good!" said Croyden. "Have you any other baggage?" nodding toward a small bag, which Axtell had in his hand.

"No."

"Then, come along--we're bound for Annapolis, and the car leaves in ten minutes."

X

PIRATE'S GOLD BREEDS PIRATE'S WAYS

That evening, in the seclusion of their apartment at Carvel Hall, they took Axtell into their confidence--to a certain extent (though, again, he protested his willingness simply to obey orders). They told him, in a general way, of Parmenter's bequest, and how Croyden came to be the legatee--saying nothing of its great value, however--its location, the loss of the letter the previous evening, the episode of the thieves on the Point, that morning, and their evident intention to return to the quest.

"Now, what we want to know is: are you ready to help us--unaided by the law--to seize these men and hold them prisoners, while we search for the treasure?" Croyden asked. "We may be killed in the attempt, or we may kill one or both of them, and have to stand trial if detected. If you don't want to take the risk, you have only to decline--and hold your tongue."

"My dear Mr. Croyden!" said Axtell, "I don't want you to pay me a cent--just give me my board and lodging and I'll gladly aid you as long as necessary. It's a very little thing to do for one who has lost so much through us. You provide for our defense, if we're apprehended by the law, and _that_" (snapping his fingers) "for the risk."

Croyden held out his hand.

"We'll shake hands on that, Axtell, if you please," he said; "and, if we recover what Parmenter buried, you'll not regret it."

The following morning saw them down at the Point with the equipage and other paraphernalia. The men, whom they had brought from Annapolis for the purpose, pitched the tents under the trees, ditched them, received their pay, climbed into the wagons and rumbled away to town--puzzled that anyone should want to camp on Greenberry Point when they had the price of a hotel, and three square meals a day.

"It looks pretty good," said Croyden, when the canvases were up and everything arranged--"and we shan't lack for the beautiful in nature. This is about the prettiest spot I've ever seen, the Chesapeake and the broad river--the old town and the Academy buildings--the warships at anchor--the _tout ensemble!_ We may not find the treasure, but, at least, we've got a fine camp--though, I reckon, it is a bit breezy when the wind is from the Bay."

"I wonder if we should have paid our respects to the Superintendent before poaching on his preserves?" said Macloud.

"Hum--hadn't thought of that!" Croyden answered. "Better go in and show ourselves to him, this afternoon. He seems to be something of a personage down here, and we don't want to offend him. These naval officers, I'm told, are sticklers for dignity and the prerogatives due their rank."

"Hold on!" exclaimed Macloud. "On that score, we've got some rank ourselves to uphold."

"What!" said Croyden.

"Certainly! the Chairman of the Committee on Naval Affairs, of the United States Senate, is with us. According to the regulations, is it his duty to call _first_ on the Superintendent?--that's the point."

"Give it up!" laughed Croyden. "However, the Superintendent has a copy of the letter, and he will know the ropes. We will wait a day, then, if he's quiescent, it's up to us."

"Great head!" laughed Macloud. "You should have been a diplomat, Croyden--nothing less than an Ambassadorship for you, my boy!"

Croyden smiled.

"A motor boat would be mighty convenient to go back and forth to Annapolis," he said. "Look at the one cutting through the water there, midway across!"

It came nearer, halted a little way off in deep water, and an officer in uniform swept the tents and them with a glass. Then the boat put about and went chugging upstream.

"We didn't seem to please him," remarked Macloud, gazing after the boat. Suddenly it turned in toward shore and made the landing at the Experiment Station.

"We are about to be welcomed or else ordered off--I'll take a bet either way," said Macloud.

"Welcomed!" Croyden responded. "Otherwise, they wouldn't have despatched an officer--it would have been a file of marines instead. You haven't lost the permit, Macloud!"

"You don't seem very sure!" Macloud laughed.

Presently, the officer appeared, walking rapidly down the roadway. As soon as he sighted the tents, he swung over toward them. Macloud went a few steps forward to meet him.

"Is this Senator Rickrose?" the Lieutenant inquired.

"No," said Macloud. "Senator Rickrose isn't coming until later. I am one of his friends, Colin Macloud, and this is Mr. Croyden and Mr. Axtell."

"Very glad to meet you, gentlemen!" said the Lieutenant. "The Superintendent presents his compliments and desires to place himself and the Academy at your disposal." (He was instructed to add, that Captain Boswick would pay his respects to-morrow, having been called to Washington to-day by an unexpected wire, but the absence of the Chairman of the Naval Affairs Committee rendered it unnecessary.)

"Thank Captain Boswick, for Senator Rickrose and us, and tell him we appreciate his kindness exceedingly," Macloud answered. "We're camping here for a week or so, to try sleeping in the open, under sea air. We're not likely to prove troublesome!" he added.

Then they took several drinks, and the aide departed.

"So far, we're making delightful progress," said Croyden; "but there are breakers ahead when Hook-nose and his partner get in the game. Suppose we inspect the premises and see if they have been here in our absence."

They went first to the place where they had seen them conceal the tools--these were gone; proof that the thieves had paid a second visit to the Point. But, search as they might, no evidence of work was disclosed.

"What does it mean?" said Croyden. "Have they abandoned the quest?"

"Not very likely," replied Macloud, "with half a million at stake. They probably are seeking information; when they have it, we shall see them back again."

"Suppose they bring four or five others to help them?"

"They won't--never fear!--they're not sharing the treasure with any one else. Rather, they will knife each other for it. Honor among thieves is like the Phoenix--it doesn't exist."

"If the knifing business were to occur before the finding, it would help some!" laughed Croyden. "Meantime, I'm going to look at the ruins of the light-house. I discovered in an almanac I found in the hotel last night, that the original light-house was erected on Greenberry Point in 1818. This fact may help us a lot."

They went out to the extreme edge, and stood gazing across the shoals toward the ruins.

"What do you make the distance from the land?" Croyden asked.

"About one hundred yards--but it's very difficult to estimate over water. It may be two hundred for all I can tell."

"It is exactly three hundred and twenty-two feet from the Point to the near side of the ruins," said Croyden.

"Why not three hundred and twenty-two and a half feet!" scoffed Macloud.

"I measured it this morning while you were dawdling over your breakfast," answered Croyden.

"Hitched a line to the land and waded out, I suppose."

"Not exactly; I measured it on the Government map of the Harbor. It gives the distance as three hundred and twenty-two feet, in plain figures."

"I said you had a great head!" Macloud exclaimed. "Now, what's the rest of the figures--or haven't you worked it out?"

Croyden drew out a paper. "The calculation is of value only on the assumption--which, however, is altogether reasonable--that the light-house, when erected, stood on the tip of the Point. It is now three hundred and twenty-two feet in water. Therefore, dividing ninety-two--the number of years since erection--into three hundred and twenty-two, gives the average yearly encroachment of the Bay as three and a half feet. Parmenter buried the casket in 1720, just a hundred and ninety years ago; so, multiplying a hundred and ninety by three and a half feet gives six hundred and sixty-five feet. In other words, the Point, in 1720, projected six hundred and sixty-five feet further out in the Bay than it does to-day."

"Then, with the point moved in six hundred and sixty-five feet Parmenter's beeches should be only eighty-five feet from the shore line, instead of seven hundred and fifty!" Macloud reflected.

"Just so!" said Croyden.

"But where are the beeches?" asked Axtell.

"Disappeared!" Croyden replied. "As the Point from year to year slipped into the Bay, the fierce gales, which sweep up the Chesapeake, gradually ate into the timber. It is seventy years, at least, since Parmenter's beeches went down."

"Why shouldn't the Duvals have noticed the encroachment of the Bay, and made a note of it on the letter?" Macloud asked.

"Probably, because it was so gradual they did not observe it. They, likely, came to Annapolis only occasionally, and Greenberry Point seemed unchanged--always the same narrow stretch of sand, with large trees to landward."

Macloud nodded. "I reckon that's reasonable."

"Next let us measure back eighty-five feet," said Croyden, producing a tape-line.... "There! this is where the beech tree should stand. But where were the other trees, and where did the two lines drawn from them intersect?"...

"Yes, now you have it!" said Macloud--"where were the trees, and where did the lines intersect? I reckon you're stumped."

"Let us try some more assuming. You had a compass yesterday, still got it?"

Macloud drew it out and tossed it over.

"I took the trouble to make a number of diagrams last night, and they disclosed a peculiar thing. With the location of the first tree fixed, it matters little where the others were, in determining the direction of the treasure. It is practically the same. The _objective point_ will change as you change the position of the trees, but the _direction_ will vary scarcely at all. It is self-evident, of course, to those who understand such things, but it was a valuable find for me. Now, if we are correct in our assumption, thus far, the treasure is buried----"

He opened the compass, and having brought North under the needle, ran his eye North-by-North-east. A queer look passed over his face, then he glanced at Macloud and smiled.

"The treasure is buried," he repeated--"the treasure is buried--_out in the Bay_."

Macloud laughed!

"Looks as if wading would be a bit difficult," he said dryly.

Croyden produced the tape-line again, and they measured to the low bluff at the water's edge.

"Two hundred and eighty-two feet to here," he said, "and Parmenter buried the treasure at three hundred and thirty feet--therefore, it's forty-eight feet out in the Bay."

"Then your supposition is that, since Parmenter's time, the Bay has not only encroached on the Point, but also has eaten in on the sides."

"It would seem so."

"It's hard to dig in water," Macloud remarked. "It's apt to fill in the hole, you know."

"Don't be sarcastic," Croyden retorted. "I'm not responsible for the Bay, nor the Point, nor Parmenter, nor anything else connected with the fool quest, please remember."

"Except the present measurements and the theory on which they're based," Macloud replied. "And as the former seem to be accurate, and the latter more than reasonable, we'd best act on them."

"At least, I am satisfied that the treasure lies either in the Bay, or close on shore; if so, we have relieved ourselves from digging up the entire Point."

"You have given us a mighty plausible start," said Macloud.

"Land or water?" Croyden laughed. "Hello, whom have we here?" as a buggy emerged from among the timber, circled around, and halted before the tents.

"It is Hook-nose back again," said Macloud. "Come to pay a social call, I suppose! Anything about for them to steal?"

"Nothing but the shooting-irons."

"They're safe--I put them under the blankets."

"What the devil do they want?"

"Come to treat with us--to share the treasure."

"Hum! they've got their nerve!" exclaimed Croyden.

By this time, they had been observed by the men in the buggy who, immediately, came toward them.

"Let us get away from this place!" said Croyden, and they sauntered along landward.

"And make them stop us--don't give the least indication that we know them," added Macloud.

As the buggy neared, Macloud and Croyden glanced carelessly at the occupants, and were about to pass on, when Hook-nose calmly drew the horse over in front of them.

"Which of you men is named Croyden?" he asked.

"I am," said Geoffrey.

"Well, you're the man we're lookin' for. Geoffrey is the rest of your handle, isn't it?"

"You have the advantage of me," Croyden assured him.

"Yes, I think I have, in more ways than your name. Where can we have a little private talk?"

"We can't!" said Croyden, stepping quickly around the horse and continuing on his way--Macloud and Axtell following.

"If you'd rather have it before your friends, I'm perfectly ready to accommodate you," said the fellow. "I thought, however, you'd rather keep the little secret. Well, we'll be waiting for you at the tents, all right, my friend!" and he drove ahead.

"Macloud, we are going to bag those fellows right now--and easy, too," said Croyden. "When we get to the tents, I'll take them into one--and give them a chance to talk. When you and Axtell have the revolvers, with one for me, you can join us. They are armed, of course, but only with small pistols, likely, and you should have the drop on them before they can draw. Come, at any time--I'll let down the tent flaps on the plea of secrecy (since they've suggested it), so you can approach with impunity."

"This is where _we_ get killed, Axtell!" said Macloud. "I would that I were in my happy home, or any old place but here. But I've enlisted for the war, so here goes! If you think it will do any good to pray, we can just as well wait until you've put up a few. I'm not much in that line, myself."

"Imagine a broker praying!" laughed Axtell.

"I can't," said Macloud. "But there seem to be no rules to the game we're playing, so I wanted to give you the opportunity."

As they approached the tents, Hook-nose passed the reins to Bald-head and got out.

"What's to do now?" asked Macloud. "They're separated."

"Leave it to me, I'll get them together," Croyden answered.... "You wish to see me, privately?" to Hook-nose.

"I wish to see you--it's up to you whether to make it private or not."

"Come along!" said Croyden, leading the way toward the tent, which was pitched a trifle to one side.... "Now, sir, what is it?" as the flaps dropped behind them.

"You've a business way about you, which I like----" began Hook-nose.

"Never mind my ways!" Croyden interrupted. "Come to the point--what do you want?"

"There's no false starts with you, my friend, are there!" laughed the other. "That's the thing--bang! and we are off. Good!--we'll get to business. You lost a letter recently----"

"Not at all," Croyden cut in. "I had a letter _stolen_--you, I suppose, are the thief."

"I, or my pal--it matters not which," the fellow replied easily. "Now, what we want, is to make some arrangement as to the division of the treasure, when you've found it."

"I thought as much!" said Croyden. "Well, let me tell you there won't be any arrangement made with you, alone. You must get your pal here--I don't agree with one. I agree with both or none."

"Oh, very well, I'll have him in, if you wish."

Croyden bowed.

"I do wish," he said.

Hook-nose went to the front of the tent and raised the flap.

"Bill!" he called, "hitch the horse and come in."

And Macloud and Axtell heard and understood.

While Hook-nose was summoning his partner, Croyden very naturally retired to the rear of the tent, thus obliging the rogues to keep their backs to the entrance.

"Mr. Smith, this is Mr. Croyden!" said Hook-nose.

"I'm glad to make your acquaint----" began Smith.

"There is no need for an introduction," Croyden interrupted curtly. "You're thieves, by profession, and blackmailers, in addition. Get down to business, if you please!"

"You're not overly polite, my friend--but we'll pass that by. You're hell for business, and that's our style. You understand, I see, that this treasure hunt has got to be kept quiet. If anyone peaches, the Government's wise and Parmenter's chest is dumped into its strong box--that is, as much as is left after the officials get their own flippers out. Now, my idea is for you people to do the searching, and, when the jewels is found, me and Bill will take half and youn's half. Then we all can knock off work, and live respectable."

"Rather a good bargain for you," said Croyden. "We supply the information, do all the work and give up half the spoils--for what, pray?"

"For our silence, and an equal share in the information. You have doubtless forgot that we have the letter now."

"And what if I refuse?" Croyden asked.

"You're not likely to refuse!" the fellow laughed, impudently. "Better half a big loaf than no loaf at all."

"But _if_ I refuse?" Croyden repeated.