Chapter 5

A NAVAL DISASTER.

"A cork?" cried Ida. "Let me see it."

Brian handed over the small object which he had seen lying in a corner of the empty box. It was an ordinary cork, such as would fit a good-sized medicine bottle.

"That's what we must have heard the other day rolling about when we turned the chest up on its end," said Guy.

"What's the good of it? Throw it away!" cried Elsie, who could not get the bank-notes out of her mind.

"I wonder how it can have got there!" said Guy, as the family prepared to move back into the warmer room. "What could be the good of locking up and sealing a cork in an iron-bound box for twenty years?"

"I don't suppose it was put there on purpose," answered his father. "It dropped in by mistake."

"Oh, come on! Let's get to our lessons," said Ida. "I'm sick of that stupid box."

At that moment Brian, who had stayed behind to put the chest back in its place, appeared in the room.

"Uncle," he said, "this cork has got a little round label on the top, with the name of a chemist on it--'Greenworthy.'"

Mr. Ormond took the cork, looked at it, held it nearer the lamp, and looked at it again.

"This is curious," he muttered.

"What's curious, father?" asked Elsie.

"Why, this cork has Greenworthy's name on it, and Greenworthy hasn't been in business for more than ten years at the outside, so how can one of his corks come to be inside a box that has been shut for twenty?"

"Then the box has been opened," said Brian.

Mr. Ormond seemed to doubt this. "One of you children must have dropped the cork in just now," he said. "Are you sure you didn't, Brian?"

"Quite sure, uncle," answered the boy.

"And I'm sure neither of us did," added each of his cousins.

"Perhaps there's a knot-hole in the box through which the cork might have been poked some time," suggested Elsie.

"I don't think there is," said Guy, moving towards the door. "But I'll soon see."

He returned a few moments later, but only to report that there was not the smallest crack or hole in the wood through which a pin could be dropped.

"It's certainly very funny," said Mr. Ormond. "The cork must have fallen out of some one's pocket after we'd opened the box. I may have dropped it in myself."

"But we heard it rolling about in the box some time ago," remarked Elsie.

"Well, it's a mystery," answered her father, laughing--"one which I can't explain."

The children prepared to retire to the breakfast-room and begin their day's lessons. Brian, however, had still one more question to ask.

"Uncle," he said, "supposing a thief had opened that box, wouldn't it be possible for him to imitate the seals?"

"Of course it would be possible to get a duplicate die made," was the answer. "But I'll tell you why I feel sure that in this case the locks have not been tampered with. Uncle Roger's seal came into my possession directly after his death, and has been in my safe ever since. In one place it was slightly damaged. There was a peculiar cut or scratch on the metal face, and I noticed that this cut was visible in the impression on the seals we broke just now. That could not have been imitated, and I'm quite convinced in my own mind that the box has not been opened."

* * * * *

By Saturday the keen edge of the disappointment had somewhat worn off, though Elsie had hardly recovered her accustomed spirits, and still grieved for the pony which she had quite made up her mind was to have been a black one, with white socks, and a white star on its forehead. Perhaps the boys felt the failure of their hopes and expectations less than the girl, from the fact that they had something on hand just then which occupied a considerable amount of their attention, and a good portion of their spare time.

Brian's great hobby was ship-building, and the fact that there was a fish-pond in the garden at the Pines enabled him to give each fresh model a practical test as soon as it was ready to be launched. He had constructed vessels of all descriptions--ships that sailed, and ships that didn't; gunboats which mounted a brass cannon, and peaceful merchant traders which carried cargoes of earth and stones across the water from one shore to another.

Now he had upon the stocks a vessel of an altogether novel design, and this latest addition to his miniature navy had cost him a great many hours of work and the exercise of no small amount of patience before it could be pronounced ready for use. It was said to be a "torpedo-boat destroyer," and was constructed out of the hull of an old tin boat. Her engines had once formed the motive power of a clockwork locomotive, but they had now been adapted to marine requirements, and made to turn a small screw.

With the determination to be up to date, Brian had resolved to have no woodwork about this war vessel. With considerable labour he had cut decks, funnels, and other fittings out of tin; to fix these in place it had been necessary to acquire the art of using a soldering-iron, and this he had done, though at the price of at least one rather bad burn and a blistered finger.

Evening after evening, when lessons were done, he had devoted his spare time to work on his model, fixing the engines, soldering down the decks, and putting in ballast, so as to balance the boat and keep her on an even keel. At length the work was finished; the _Fury_, as she was called, was painted all over an orthodox black, and when given a trial trip in the bath, ran from end to end in a manner which was quite satisfactory. Brian's next wish was to prove that the little vessel was equal to a trip across the fish-pond.

Saturday afternoon was fixed upon for the experiment, and soon after dinner Guy, Elsie, and their cousin assembled at the water-side, Ida having gone out with a friend. The pond was circular in shape, with a brick bottom, and was perhaps about thirty feet in diameter. It was shallow near the shore, and in one or two places were large pots in which water-lilies were planted, these forming dangerous reefs on which an unskilful captain of a model craft might well run his vessel aground. Brian wound up the engines of the _Fury_, keeping his finger on the screw to prevent it starting off with a whiz; then, adjusting the rudder, he lowered the "destroyer" into the water.

"Doesn't she look fine?" cried Guy, as the little vessel started off in good style. "Just like a real little steamer. Wouldn't it be fun if we could have two fleets, and make them fight? Hullo! She's changing her course."

The last remark was occasioned by the small craft bearing round in a curve, and making for the shore in another direction.

"It's the rudder," said Brian. "It doesn't work right. Give me a bit of string, and I'll see if I can't fix it properly this time."

After some little delay, the _Fury_ was ready for another voyage. In moving round the pond Elsie had found a broken lead soldier lying on the brick-work, a relic of some bygone naval engagement.

"Here!" she said; "let me put this man on board."

Brian seldom refused any of Elsie's requests.

"All right," he said; "put him on the bridge."

The lead soldier was propped up against the little wire railing. "There!" cried Elsie; "that's William Cole going out to Australia."

Once more the little vessel was placed in the water, and her propeller allowed to revolve. Away she went in grand style, straight across the pond, and leaving quite a miniature wake in her stern.

"Oh, bother!" muttered Brian, as again the straight course became a curve. "There she goes! That rudder _will_ work round."

"Hullo!" exclaimed Guy. "Look out! She'll be wrecked in a minute!"

The "destroyer" was now heading for one of the submerged pots; a moment later she struck, and remained with her screw still working, but with her bow entangled in a bunch of weed.

"I shall have to court-martial the captain for running his ship ashore," said Brian.

"Poor William!" cried Elsie; "fancy being shipwrecked on his first voyage!"

For some minutes the children stood gazing idly at the disabled craft; her engines had stopped working, and it was evident that she would have to be towed into port.

"We must get a long stick--a fishing-rod, or something of that kind," said Guy. "Hullo!" he added. "Look, Brian! I believe she's sinking."

It was only too true; the "destroyer" was slowly settling down, stern foremost.

"Oh, do get it!" cried Elsie; but the wreck was well out of reach--at least ten feet from the shore. For a minute the spectators stood hesitating, undecided what to do; then the vessel gave a lurch, her bows slipped from the edge of the flower-pot, and down she went.

"O Brian, I am so sorry!" exclaimed Elsie. "You've taken so much trouble to make it, and poor William's drowned!"

Brian laughed. "Oh, we can get her out again," he said. "I think she must have been leaking where the propeller shaft goes through her stern."

If it had been summer one of the boys would probably have rolled up his trousers and waded into the water to recover the boat. As it was, they had to improvise some form of drag.

"We must get that big rake," said Brian. "We can lash it to one of those clothes-props, and then we shall be able to reach her and haul her out."

The rake was found, and bound with stout cord to the clothes-prop, and the process of "salving" the wrecked steamer commenced.

"I must mind and not damage her with these iron spikes," said Brian, carefully thrusting out the head of the rake and lowering it into the water.

"Hullo! I've got something," he remarked an instant later, as he hauled in the drag. "But it isn't the boat. What can it be?"

The prongs of the rake grated on the bricks, and there, amid dead leaves, rotten twigs, and muddy sediment, lay something which at first glance might have been mistaken for a dead fish. Guy stooped down and picked it up out of the water. For a moment he gazed at it in utter astonishment.

"Why, it's the missing carving-knife!" he exclaimed.