The Radio Boys Under the Sea; or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure
CHAPTER XXX
VICTORY!
They went down to the place where Ramirez had made his camp. Here they found signs of haste and confusion. Utensils had been scattered about, and even some things of value left in the eagerness to be off. Evidence of panic was everywhere.
“There’s been no lack of booze here at any rate,” remarked Phil with a grin, as he looked about at a host of empty bottles.
“Drink and loot were their watchwords, like those of the old pirates,” replied Benton. “‘Heigh-O and a bottle of rum.’ But now let’s get back to the other fellows and set their minds at rest.”
Great was the jubilation among their comrades when they returned with their news. It was like the passing of a nightmare. Now they had the island to themselves, and could pursue their work without the danger of being robbed and murdered.
One anxiety yet remained. Behind them the volcano reared its head, smoke still issuing from its cone, while every once in a while the earth shook with that dizzying, sickening motion. At any moment, giant subterranean forces might be unleashed that would mean their utter destruction.
“It’s up to us to get a move on pronto,” observed Phil. “It’s too late now to do anything further today, but tomorrow morning early we’ve got to get on the job. If the volcano will only be good for a couple of weeks longer, we’ll have nothing more to ask.”
“If it doesn’t stay good we find ourselves in a worse fix than the other fellows,” said Dick. “They at least had a ship to get away in, but if we were driven from the island we’d have nothing but that little dory. And if a storm came up that wouldn’t last for ten minutes. We’d lose not only the treasure but our lives.”
“The thought came to me of seizing that ship after the fight this morning,” said Benton. “Not exactly seizing it either, for it doesn’t belong to us, but of getting possession of it long enough to put in it what treasure we’ve got, running it back to San Domingo where we could place it safely, and then coming back again to go on with our work. I’ve no doubt that in the scared state those fellows were we could have done it. But I dismissed the thought almost as soon as I had it, because it would lead to all sorts of complications. The best use that schooner could be to us would be to get those fellows away from the island.
“But the very fact that they are away makes it necessary for us to hurry up our work,” he continued. “As soon as they get back to San Domingo, they’ll get talking to fellows of their own kind, the wharf rats and toughs that infest the water front. It might be an easy enough thing to get up another expedition, especially when they tell them how few we are. We’ll have to scratch gravel now and make every minute tell.”
They turned in early that night, in order to rise at the first streak of dawn. The hurried look they cast at the sea told them that it was scarcely disturbed by a ripple, and they looked forward to a day of fruitful work. They hastened through their breakfast and then made for the beach.
Phil was in the van, and as he reached the shore he gave a startled shout that speedily brought his comrades to his side.
There, scattered along the beach were the timbers of a ship, while other debris of a vessel, hatches, parts of masts and deck planks bobbed up and down in the surf.
They looked at each other in utter perplexity.
“Some ship must have foundered,” exclaimed Dick, “and yet I don’t see how that could be. There hasn’t been any big storm recently.
“An old ship it must have been too,” said Tom, stooping to examine a piece of timber. “This beam is worm eaten. No wonder the old tub went to pieces. I only hope that her crew has escaped.”
“They didn’t escape,” said Phil quietly. “The ship went down with all on board. And it went down more than two hundred years ago.”
Dick jumped as though he had been shot.
“You mean, you mean—” he stammered and stopped, his brain whirling with the tumultuous thoughts that surged through it.
“The old pirate ship!” gasped Tom, who had caught Phil’s meaning.
“By ginger, that’s what it is,” cried Benton excitedly. “See,” he went on, pointing to a piece of hatch. “Look at that splintered piece that has been torn off. See how new the broken place looks compared to the old. That’s where it was torn apart by our charge of dynamite.”
They stood for a moment as if stunned. There was something awe-inspiring in the sight of the remnants of the old ship that had come again into the sunlight after its two-hundred years’ sleep on the ocean bed.
Phil was the first to break the silence.
“How could it have happened?” he asked in bewilderment.
“I think I understand,” said Benton. “It’s all bound up with the volcano and the earthquake. The same forces have caused an upheaval in the bed of the sea. The old ship has been close to the center of disturbance, the timbers already shattered by the dynamite have been further wrenched apart and the entire mass thrown up to the surface of the sea.”
“Then that puts an end to our treasure hunting,” said Phil, voicing the thought that came in the minds of all.
“It sure does,” replied Benton. “Even the log that marked the position of the ship has disappeared,” pointing out to the unbroken surface of the sea. “We might hunt now for a hundred years and not locate the spot. And even if we did, the treasure would have been scattered all over the sand of the ocean bed. No, the game is up. We can thank our stars that we got what we did. That is enough to make the expedition a glorious success. Perhaps after all, it’s better that nature took a hand, or we might have stayed on here so long as to end in our destruction. Now let’s get back to the cave and figure out our next move, for we’ll have to do some quick thinking.”
They retraced their steps, Bimbo keeping well abreast of them and occasionally casting frightened glances back at the fragments of the pirate ship.
“What Ah tell you, Marse Phil?” he said, as well as his chattering teeth would permit. “Dey’s a spell on dis yar islan’. Nebber any good fussin’ wiv daid men’s bones. Nussah, deed dey ain’t. Ole piyate ship come back. Bimeby dem piyate skelintons come moseyin’ along too. Min’ mah wuds, Marse Phil, min’ mah wuds.”
Phil made some laughing reply, but he was too much engrossed at the moment with the sudden change in the situation to pay much attention to Bimbo’s superstitious fears, and the latter, with a shake of the head at Phil’s obtuseness, retired within himself, still however keeping up his mutterings and giving a wide berth to the grave of Ramirez and his men as he approached the cave.
“Now here,” said Benton, as they sat down for a conference, “is where that blessed radio of ours comes in to get us away from this island. We want to get busy right away and send out messages that will bring a ship here to take us off. Some of the ships in these waters I wouldn’t want to come, for they’re sailed by as precocious a gang of cutthroats as Ramirez himself. But that kind don’t have a radio outfit, so we can dismiss them from consideration. Any of the liners that ply between the ports of the Caribbean would be all right. But what I would prefer above any other would be one of Uncle Sam’s naval vessels that patrol these waters. There are always some of them cruising about. But beggars can’t be choosers and we’ll have to take what we can get.”
“He calls us beggars,” grinned Dick, “and here we are with enough treasure to form a king’s ransom.”
“True enough,” laughed Benton, “and about that same treasure we’ve got to be mighty careful. It would be exasperating now to lose it after we’ve run such risks in getting it. We don’t want any inquisitive people asking questions or any thievish people doing something worse.”
“How are we going to explain our presence on the island?” asked Tom.
“And how are we going to get the treasure off without its being noticed?” put in Dick. “It’s pretty heavy stuff.”
“The answer to the first question is easy enough,” replied Benton. “We can say that we were shipwrecked while cruising about the Caribbean. We don’t have to tell them why we were cruising there. They’ll probably jump to the conclusion that it was just a pleasure trip, such as is common in these waters, and let it go at that.
“As for the second, that will take a little more planning. The jewels we can fasten in our clothing securely. The gold however is heavier and bulkier and a different proposition. Of course it would never do to keep it in the boxes in which we brought it up. Those boxes would excite curiosity at once. We’d better make some stout boxes out of rough boards and pile a lot of our stores and belongings in them and hide the money well under everything. Then we can have those boxes taken on board of the ship that comes for us and their very roughness and commonplace appearance would prevent anyone being especially interested in them.
“Now Phil, as you’re the most expert sender, suppose you get busy at the radio while the rest of us hustle around, pack up the treasure and get ready to leave.”
For the next few hours they were as busy as beavers. Phil sent out his signals winging their way through space and before an hour had passed had several answers and offers of help. One especially appealed to him that came from the American naval cutter Centaur doing patrol duty in those waters. She was over a hundred miles distant at the time, but the captain, after Phil from Benton’s figures had given him the exact latitude and longitude of the island, promised to be on hand and take them off the following morning.
He kept his promise and the boys’ hearts thrilled as the smart cutter with the Stars and Stripes flying over it hove into view the next morning. She stopped a little way out and sent a boat under the command of an ensign to take them off. The ensign proved to be a fine upstanding young fellow of their own kind, and was most cordial and helpful. The transfer of their belongings was made without delay or difficulty, and before noon they were on their way to Jamaica, which for obvious reasons they had chosen as their first landing place instead of San Domingo, with its lurking dangers from the discomfited members of the gang of Ramirez.
They stood in a group on the after deck of the vessel that afternoon, looking back at the old pirate’s island that was just sinking below the horizon.
“Well,” remarked Dick, with a sigh of huge satisfaction, “it wasn’t a wild goose chase after all. We got the treasure.”
“And a mighty hefty one too,” put in Tom. “I wonder how much it will pan out.”
“Fully a hundred thousand dollars, I should say at a rough guess,” replied Benton. “That’ll be a pretty nice nest egg for each one of the five of us.”
“It’ll come in mighty handy,” observed Phil. “And just think of the adventures we had in getting it. I don’t suppose we’ll ever have such exciting times again in all our lives.”
But how far he was from the facts will be seen by those who read the next volume of this series, entitled: “The Radio Boys In the Rockies; Or, The Mystery of Lost Valley.”
They landed safely in Jamaica, and then as fast as boats and trains could carry them made for home. At Bimbo’s earnest entreaty, Phil agreed to take him along with them.
“The one thing this trip has taught me is that it pays to take chances,” Dick remarked, as they were speeding along in the last lap of their journey. “We took big chances and got away with them.”
“He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dreads to put it to the touch And win or lose it all,”
quoted Steve.
“What was it pulled us through?” mused Tom. “Luck or pluck?”
“A combination of both perhaps,” laughed Benton. “Not throwing any bouquets at ourselves or anything like that.”
“You’ve left out the most important thing,” said Phil. “Without it we wouldn’t have found the ship. Without it we wouldn’t be here now.”
“What is that?” asked Dick with a puzzled air.
“Radio,” answered Phil.
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