CHAPTER XVII.

A TERROR AT SEA.

Two hours went by before any one noted Nick’s absence from the deck of the _Vista_.

Captain Eccles had not seen him about the ship, but he supposed that he was with Frank and Will in the forecastle, and Frank and Will, not seeing him, took it for granted that he was in the cabin with Eccles planning the expedition for the treasure.

When, at last, Nick’s friends met, and all declared they could not find him, a thorough search of the ship was begun, to no purpose, of course. The only theory Captain Eccles could form was connected with the missing yawl.

“He must have seen something drop overboard and started off in the yawl for it,” he said to the skipper of the _Vista_.

“More likely he got sick of the sea and ran away in the yawl.”

“No, he would not do that. Perhaps he went into the yawl out of curiosity, and it got afloat and he couldn’t hail the ship. Captain, if we pass a port-bound ship, I’ll go back in search of him.”

“Nonsense!” growled Dare. “You could not find him any more than a needle in a haystack now. He’s safe enough on calm water like this, and will be picked up by some steamer.”

With this Eccles was forced to be content, but his fears were revived when, an hour later, it was learned that the rope attached to the yawl had been cut and not untied.

“There’s some mystery about it,” said Frank Alden to his brother Will that night.

Jack Benson could have told them what a simple thing it had been to dispose of Nick Collins.

Money had induced Jack to agree to the plots of his uncle, Loucks, and the morning the _Vista_ sailed he was sent to its captain with a note from Loucks stating that he was to give him a free passage to Cuba.

Jack had kept out of the way all the first day for fear of being seen and recognized by Captain Eccles or the boys of the party, but at nightfall he had ventured on deck.

When he saw his enemy, Nick Collins, in the yawl, he decided that it was a fine chance to further the plans of his uncle, and at the same time get even with Nick. The result was that Collins was sent adrift.

Jack’s success made him reckless, and the next morning he came boldly on deck. He recalled the fact that Loucks had given him a certain order to execute when the _Vista_ passed the Gulf of Mexico. Until then he must be idle. Sooner or later he must be seen by Eccles or the boys, so he decided that he might as well go on deck and enjoy himself.

His idea of enjoyment was to go about the ship making a nuisance of himself. He climbed the rigging, tampered with the ropes and the compass, and what else he might have done no one knows; but one of the officers at last ordered him to leave things alone and go to his cabin.

“I’ll go there when I get ready,” Jack replied.

“What’s that, you young scamp?” exclaimed the officer.

“Oh, mind your own business.”

Hardly had the last word left Benson’s lips when the angry officer had him in an iron grasp.

“Let go of me!” cried Jack. “If you don’t, I’ll----”

He never finished the sentence. He received a blow from the man that made him see stars, and they were not the few that were shining in the heavens.

Just at that moment Frank and Will Alden came on-deck. The blow Jack had received did not knock him senseless, but it caused him to stagger and grasp a belaying pin for support. Jack set up a bellowing that could be heard for some distance. It brought Captain Dare hurrying to that part of the ship.

“What’s all this about?” he demanded.

“An unruly passenger, sir,” replied the officer, “and I had to take him in hand.”

“I see. What has he done, Mr. Gallup?”

“Been meddling with things, sir, and when I ordered him to go below, he was insolent.”

“He hit me!” cried Jack.

“Is that so, Mr. Gallup?”

“Yes, sir. I struck him because he told me to mind my own business. I thought it part of my business to make him understand that while he’s on this ship he must behave himself.”

“You did your duty,” said Captain Dare. Then turning to Benson: “Go below, boy, and don’t bother my men.”

“I won’t,” returned Jack.

“What’s that?”

“I won’t go below till I get ready.”

The captain regarded him a moment with flashing eyes. Then he said to the officer:

“Mr. Gallup, have the young mutineer put in irons. Perhaps that will bring him to his senses.”

“You’d better not lock me up,” said Jack. “If you do you’ll get the worst of it.”

The captain smiled.

“Get the worst of it, eh?” he said. “How’s that?”

“My uncle, Mr. Loucks, owns some of this ship, and I’ll have him discharge all of you.”

Captain Dare and the officer burst into laughter. Just then a sailor appeared with a pair of handcuffs. At sight of them all the resistance fled from Jack, and he let go his hold on the belaying pin and scooted for the gangway. As fast as his legs could carry him he went to his cabin.

Frank and Will Alden had witnessed the whole affair.

“What do you think of that, Will?” said Frank. “Think of it. Jack Benson on this ship!”

“How did he ever get here?”

“Search me. Let’s tell Captain Eccles.”

They hunted up Eccles and told him about it. Thus it came about that Eccles went to Captain Dare and learned from him that the owner of the ship was Admiral Semmes’ worst enemy--James Vail. Then the sturdy mariner began to scent a plot. He did not alarm Frank and Will by imparting to them his suspicions, but after that, you may be sure, he kept a close watch on the movements of Jack Benson.

This is how Eccles thought the matter out: “This boy has been put aboard by Loucks and Vail. He has begun his evil mission by sending Nick adrift. No doubt at all that it was he who cut the rope that held the yawl. Poor Nick! I wonder if we’ll ever see him again. By jingo, if I catch that Jack Benson playing any dirty tricks, it will go hard with him.”

But Jack gave no sign after that night of doing anything wrong. He seemed to have been thoroughly cowed by the threat to put him in irons and the apparent indifference of the skipper to the fact that Loucks, or, rather, his employer, James Vail, was owner of the ship. Jack was sullen and reticent, and seldom came on deck. With all his watching, Captain Eccles was thrown off his guard, for it did not look as if any trouble was to be feared from Benson now.

Thus matters stood until one dark night, when a storm seemed brewing. All the passengers had retired to rest. Frank and Will were in their berths, but not sleeping. They were talking over the mysterious disappearance of their chum, Nick, the loss of whom was a severe blow to them. They agreed with Captain Eccles that Jack Benson had something to do with Nick’s disappearance, although, of course, they could not prove anything. In time the boys stopped talking, and fell asleep along with the rest of the passengers. The only persons awake were the officer on the bridge, the men in the engine and boiler rooms, a few sailors on deck, and others who had to be on hand to work the ship.

Jack Benson had pretended to retire, like all the other passengers, but he did not undress. He waited in his cabin until it was late enough for him to carry out the scheme he had planned.

When, at about midnight, he had opened his cabin door a little, looked up and down the passage that ran along by the staterooms, and had made sure that no one was moving about in that part of the ship, he stole out of his cabin and made his way toward the forward hold. Save for the throbbing of the engine, and the swish of the seas against the vessel’s side, all was silence.

In his stockinged feet Benson crossed the main saloon, gained the companionway, ascended to the deck, glanced quickly about him, and made sure that no one was looking.

Then he darted along the deck, and down a gangway that led to a narrow passage, at the end of which was a bulkhead door. Producing a key he had stolen that day from the captain’s cabin, he opened this door, and entered the hold.

Closing the door after him, he lighted a short candle, which he drew from a coat pocket. Its rays cast ghostly shadows about the place, but revealed the indistinct outlines of the great piles of merchandise that were part of the ship’s cargo.

In a moment Jack decided what to do. He caught up a dry pine box that contained some light material--this he knew by the weight of it--and the box he placed beside a barrel of oil not far away. He did the same with one box of the same kind after another, until he had four or five of them ranged near the barrel of oil.

His next move showed that Jack had come well prepared for his fiendish work. From a pocket of his coat he took out a handful of excelsior, and then, reaching into the unbuttoned bosom of his shirt, he drew forth another handful of the same inflammable material. The production of this last lot of the finely cut strings of wood accounted for the wonderful chest development Jack had at the moment he slipped out of his cabin. Now he was himself again as to chest measurement.

He set the excelsior carefully about the boxes, and then, to make certain that his kindlings should not fail, he began hacking with his jack-knife at the boxes, and kept this up until he had added to the excelsior a lot of splinters and chips.

It was remarkable how coolly and with what apparent fearlessness he performed this evil task. Not for a single instant did he hesitate. He did not seem to realize his own peril in firing a ship that was so many miles from land. This might have been because Loucks had assured him that everybody lucky enough to be awake at the time the fire began could escape in the lifeboats.

At last Jack decided that all was in readiness for the match. He lighted one, and applied its flickering flame to the excelsior. Then he ran to the bulkhead door, opened, relocked it, and stole back to the gangway, up that to the deck, and then down the companionway, and along the stateroom passage to his own quarters. He had not encountered a soul.

He stood in the cabin, ears alert, waiting for the cry which he knew would come. He had not more than three minutes to wait.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

This, the most terrible cry that can be heard on shipboard, began to ring, and quickly was taken up on all sides.

A quiver of horror went through the _Vista_ from stem to stern.

The gangways began to fill with partly dressed passengers, trembling, wringing their hands, shouting for help, weeping--laughing, some of them, in a delirium of fright--rushing for safety, or standing still, frozen with terror. Blinding smoke filled the ship, and presently the glare of flames could be seen.

In a moment the upper deck became a scene of hopeless confusion. Officers and crew were powerless to preserve even a semblance of order. One glance that Captain Dare gave the fire convinced him the ship was doomed. He knew it would be useless to fight those all-devouring flames. An attempt to do so would only be a waste of time and a futile risking of human life. Jack Benson had done his work successfully.

“Lower the boats!”

Above the tumult of frightened voices, this order of the captain, delivered in clear, ringing tones, could be heard. It was taken up by the officers, and the crew fell to work getting the boats ready to be lowered from the davits. Sailors stood by each boat keeping back the frenzied passengers until it should be time for them to get in. Other sailors were sent through the ship to wake up any one who, by chance, had not been roused by the cries and general tumult.

Captain Eccles, Frank, and Will managed to keep their heads, and by example or word help others to do the same. They took a hand also in helping the women and children to get into the boats. When the word was given to board the lifeboats, Jack Benson tried to push by some women and children and get into the first one. Frank Alden caught him by the shoulders and pulled him back.

Jack ripped out an oath, and told Frank to mind his own business--a favorite expression of Jack’s, it appears, and one that he accompanied now with a threat against Frank. It was the first time any words had passed between the boys since they had been on the _Vista_.

“All right,” returned Frank to the threat; “you can do anything you like, but you don’t get into a boat until your turn comes. Now, stand back!”

There was a look in Frank’s eye that Benson did not like. So he went off to seek some other boat to which he might have a chance of pushing his way. He shook his fist at Frank as he moved away.

In the rush for the boats one of the passengers, a woman, fell overboard, and there was a delay in the efforts of a sailor to rescue her which held one of the lifeboats hovering near the ship for a long time. The seaman succeeded at last in reaching the boat with his exhausted burden, and both were lifted aboard by willing hands. Such scenes made the hour one of excitement, suspense, and terror. At last, however, every soul on board had been rescued. Even Jack Benson, after several ineffectual attempts to crowd past children, was allowed to get into a lifeboat.

“But if you don’t stop playing the hog,” said the officer in charge of it to him, “I’ll throw you overboard.”

The last boat to leave the ship contained Captain Dare, Eccles, Frank, Will, and several of the crew.

Luckily the storm which seemed brewing did not descend with any fury. The boats, with loads of human freight, reached an island for which they were all headed, about twenty-four hours after the _Vista_ was abandoned.

The cause of the fire was a mystery which bothered Captain Dare a good deal. He talked about it with Eccles as they rowed on. When they arrived at the island mentioned they found the other boats there, and not a single life had been lost by the burning of the _Vista_.

From the island everybody was transferred to the mainland, and from there to various points--according to the port to which they wished to go in order to continue their journey by water.

A week later Captain Eccles, Frank, and Will found a ship bound for the Isthmus of Panama by way of Colon and Aspinwall. On this they arranged for passage.

What had become of Jack Benson they did not know. Having finished the work for which he had been put aboard the _Vista_ by Loucks and Vail, that young scamp had taken himself off with a group of passengers who took ship for Havana, and from there he intended to take passage back to New York. The conspirators had supplied him with plenty of money, which he had been careful to tuck away in a safe place on his person when he set fire to the ship.

Captain Eccles and his boy companions had saved little from the wreck except the clothes they wore. But Eccles had a good part of the cash that belonged to Admiral Semmes, and which was to be used in his interest; so they did not fear for the success of their treasure hunt. And, best of all, despite the hurry in which they had left the burning ship, Eccles had taken good care to bring with him the chart that Nick had recovered from the treacherous bankers.

As for poor Nick, there was no news of him at the port from which they set sail for the Isthmus. They made inquiry at every place where there was likely to be news of a ship having picked up a boy at sea, but all to no purpose. Needless to say, the disappearance of Nick had cast a gloom over the little party, but they decided to continue their quest for the treasure, and hope for the best.

After a stormy passage in the Caribbean Sea, Eccles, Frank, and Will arrived at Colon. From there they went to Panama, where the gigantic work of digging the canal across the Isthmus was in full swing. Armies of workmen, many of them Americans, made a scene of activity in that southern clime which the boys from Parkdale regarded with open-eyed wonder.

Captain Eccles explained to them the great work which the United States Government had undertaken in opening a waterway between the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific.

“Will it be wide and deep enough for big ships to go through?” asked Frank.

“Yes, indeed,” the captain told him. “The very largest ships will be able to pass through. Vessels that now have to make the long voyage around the Horn will take a short cut when the canal is finished. It will save weeks and weeks of time in the passage from New York to the Pacific coast.”

From Colon they took a train across the Isthmus, and this for a part of the way followed the course of the canal, so that the digging operations were in full view from the car window. It was an experience which the boys thought they would always remember. It helped them to forget for a while their sadness over the loss of Nick Collins.

Arrived at the Pacific side of the Isthmus, they were fortunate in finding a ship bound south, and they reached Buenaventura in safety. Here Captain Eccles made inquiry for the ship _Regent_, commanded by his friend Dartmoor. Again they were in good luck. They learned that the _Regent_ was due, on a return voyage from Peru, at Valencia, two hundred miles down the coast, in a week.

For Valencia the three took the first steamer that sailed.

“A little while, boys,” said the captain, elated over the prospect, “and we shall be on our way toward the treasure island.”

It was good news to Frank and Will, as well, but they could not help thinking how happy they would be if only Nick Collins were with them to enjoy the adventures that were soon to be theirs.

They reached Valencia, and found much to interest them in that quaint old place while they waited for the _Regent_ to arrive. In two days she arrived. Eccles was waiting on the wharf when she came up. He was the first one on shore to hail her commander, Captain Dartmoor, his old friend. As soon as the gangplank was down he rushed aboard to clasp hands with the skipper.

Did Captain Dartmoor give him a warm welcome?

He fairly danced with delight at sight of his old shipmate.

“By jingo, Eck!” he exclaimed, “you don’t look a day older.”

“And you,” returned his friend--“why, Jack, you’re the same young fellow of fifteen years ago!”

For more than an hour the brotherly mariners were shut up in the skipper’s cabin while Eccles told his story. Dartmoor listened to it with wrapped attention and wonder.

“By jingo!” he exclaimed, “it takes me back to the days when we used to read yarns of the sea.”

“But this is going to be no yarn, captain.”

“I sincerely hope not, Eck. I hope it will prove to be what you think--the biggest kind of a reality.”

“Don’t you believe it?” asked Eccles.

“Wait a minute,” the other answered evasively. “Give me time to think about it. Let me see that chart.”

Eccles produced the two halves of the letter written by Nick Collins’ father, and spread them before his friend. The latter studied the document for some minutes in silence. Then suddenly he exclaimed:

“Why, first point to reach, according to this, is Mountain Island.”

“Yes. What of it?”

“What of it? Man, I know the place.”

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Eccles. “You’ve been there?”

“Yes. It is little more than a barren reef twelve hundred miles due southwest.”

“Then the letter is right. That’s what it says.”

“That much is right, surely,” chimed in Dartmoor.

“From there we follow the course described in the letter. Now, what do you think of the project?”

“I think very well of it,” drawled Dartmoor, which was a good deal for him to say, as his friend well knew.

“Then you believe in it?” cried Eccles eagerly.

“Yes, old shipmate, I do.”

“Hurrah!” again burst out Captain Eccles. “Just how much confidence have you in it?”

“A great deal.”

“Enough to come along and help me find it?”

“I have, Eccles,” replied the other earnestly.

“Shake on it.”

And the old-time friends and fellow mariners clasped hands.

“This is glorious!” said Eccles. “You’ll know where we can get a ship, how much we ought to pay, and all about it. It’s a long time, Jack, since I was in service, and I’ve sort of lost track of things.”

“What do you want of a ship?” asked Captain Dartmoor after a moment of silence.

“Can we get along without one?” returned the other, smiling.

“You cannot, of course. But I guess one will be enough.”

“It sure will.”

“Well, isn’t my ship good enough?”

“Do you mean,” said the overjoyed Eccles--“do you mean that you’ll use the _Regent_ for our expedition?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Do you suppose I’d let you go in any other ship, Eck, as long as I have one at my command?”

Again the old friends’ hands met in a cordial grasp.

“Now, friendship is one thing and business another,” said Captain Eccles. “I have money. I will charter your ship outright or go in with you on shares.”

“Never mind that part of it. We’ll fix things up satisfactorily to both. I guess we won’t quarrel.”

“But I’d rather have it fixed. I want to do what is right by you and everybody connected with you in this matter.”

“All right. We’ll settle about the money later on. Come on deck.”

It was plain that the project had awakened all the enthusiasm and love of adventure in Captain Dartmoor’s nature, of which there was plenty, although he was a cool and level-headed man.

“Mr. Griggs,” he called to his mate when they had reached the deck.

The mate touched his hat and drew near.

“What’s our cargo to be?”

“Wool.”

“Where for?”

“Buenaventura.”

“I want you to make arrangements to have some other ship carry it.”

The mate looked puzzled.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said. “Do you mean that we’re not to take it aboard?”

“Exactly.”

“But we are under contract to deliver it at Buenaventura.”

“Never mind. The reason for making the change is an important one. You will transfer the cargo and papers to the next ship that is bound for Buenaventura. Be sure that there shall be no slip-up, for I want the delivery to be made just as promptly as if the goods were carried in the _Regent_. This must be done in justice to the persons concerned.”

“I’ll do the best I can, sir,” said the mate.

“See here, captain,” put in Eccles. “I don’t want you to take this risk for me. Suppose----”

“Suppose nothing,” interrupted Dartmoor, his eyes sparkling. “There lies treasure island, doesn’t it?”

He pointed southwest.

“Yes,” Eccles answered.

“That’s our destination, isn’t it?”

“Of course, Jack, but----”

“But me no buts, shipmate,” broke in the skipper of the _Regent_. “You are my life-long friend, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve said, ‘Help me,’ haven’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, when a friend like you says that, Jack Dartmoor is there! That’s all there is to it. Yonder lies our treasure island. We transfer our cargo, we provision, and we sail just as quickly as we can.”

“When will that be?”

“To-night. This very hour,” was Captain Dartmoor’s resolute and hearty answer.

And so it fell out. At nightfall the stately _Regent_, with Eccles, Frank, and Will aboard, sailed into the hazy crimson of the western sky, a trailer on the ill-fated course of the _Star of Hope_, gone down in tropic waters ten years before with all the treasure it had on board.