by Roy Rockwood
CHAPTER IV
A PAIR OF SCHEMERS
"The treasure is on the Windjammers' Island!" exclaimed Bob Vilett.
"Yes," nodded Dave confidently, "I have every reason to think so."
"Begorra!" cried the Irishman excitedly. "On my paternal dominions? Onthe principalities of King Patrick Stoodles? A horse, my kingdom fora--no, I mane a ship. Lad, if the goold those Hankers stole is anywhereamong my subjects, we'll have it back, mind me!"
"Well, let me explain," said Dave, "and then hear what you have to say.We three have shared too many perils and secrets together, to need to betold that all I tell now is in strict confidence until we get ready toact."
"Spoke like a lawyer," commented Stoodles.
"Like a friend, you mean," corrected Bob. "Leave it to smart Dave towork a way out of a dilemma. I'm interested and excited, Dave."
"Well, first and foremost," continued Dave, "do you recognize thatpicture, Bob?"
Dave handed out the photograph that Adair had given him on the_Swallow_.
"Why, sure," answered Bob promptly. "It's a picture of that rascallypilot."
"No, no---I mean the other figure in the photograph."
"Oh--oh!" said Bob slowly, studying it. "N-no," he continued, quite asslowly. "Yes--no. H'm! One minute the face looks familiar, the next itlooks strange. I can't fix it, although it seems as if I've seen thatman before."
"You have," declared Dave. "Here, Mr. Stoodles, you take a try."
"Yes, there's the pilot," announced Stoodles. "The other is the ouldpawnbroker that was on the _Raven_."
Dave's face grew eager and bright with satisfaction.
"Good for you," he said. "I knew I was right. Yes, that is the man theHankers picked up at San Francisco--a pawnbroker named Gerstein. Hefurnished some of the money to fit out their ship for the expedition.Well, my friends, Gerstein, under the false name of Schmitt-Schmitt, isnow on this island."
"Then the _Raven_ crowd escaped!" exclaimed Bob.
"I don't know that," answered Dave. "I do know that Schmitt-Schmittappeared here a few days ago. He has been trying to engage a ship to goafter a fortune he says he can find. Of course it's our treasure."
"The spalpane! Of coorse it is!" cried Stoodles excitedly.
"My theory," went on Dave, "is that the _Raven_ was terribly disabled orlost in the cyclone. I am also pretty sure that the treasure was saved.Perhaps it was already hidden somewhere on land. At all events,Schmitt-Schmitt was in the secret, either as the partner and emissary ofothers of the _Raven_ crowd or on his own account. He managed to get asmall boat afloat, was taken up by a liner, and landed here. Now hiswhole time is given, as I said, to finding a ship that will go after afortune, as he terms it, on shares."
"Your theory is raisonable, your theory is right," insisted Stoodles.
"Schmitt-Schmitt," proceeded Dave, "made friends with the governor here.He seems to be staying at the pilot's house. When the _Swallow_ wassighted he at once reasoned it out that we had discovered the realcontents of those four boxes, that we might be bound straight back forthe Windjammers' Island. He induced the pilot to run us onto the sunkenbrig in the creek."
"Dave, I believe you've got this matter just right," said Bobthoughtfully.
"If that is true," continued Dave, "they will do all they can to delayus. Who knows but what this rascally governor and his crew may intendto take the _Swallow_ away from us and furnish Schmitt-Schmitt with thevery means he wants to go after the treasure, with no chance of beingfollowed?"
"Dave, have you told Captain Broadbeam about all this?" inquired Bobanxiously.
"I haven't had the chance. I learned what I have told you only in thepast hour," responded Dave. "As soon as we return to the _Swallow_,though, I shall warn him. I had a purpose in coming ashore."
"Are we to help you, Dave?" asked Bob.
"All hands must help. I want to locate the pilot's house, I want to besure that this Schmitt-Schmitt is really there and that he is the samefellow we knew as Gerstein on the _Raven_."
"That's easy," declared Stoodles. "The picture gives us a hint as tothe house."
"We will separate so as to excite no notice or suspicions," directedDave. "Let each one of us find out all he can, and report at this spotin three hours."
"In three hours be it," nodded Stoodles, looking very businesslike.
"All right," assented Bob, taking another good look at the picture ofthe pilot's house.
Dave allowed his two friends to select their own course. Then, whenthey were out of sight, he took an independent route.
He surmised that the pilot would probably live near the water's edge.In this he found his calculations correct, and an hour's search broughtsome results.
"That is the house," spoke Dave finally, peering from a clump of thickhigh bushes. "Yes, there is the very bench the pilot and Schmitt-Schmittsat on when Mr. Adair took their picture."
Before Dave lay a ground plot of considerable extent and fairlysmothered in luxurious vegetation, sloping down to the beach. In itscenter was a lone hut, open and rambling, and having a broad porch thatran clear around it.
It was a typical tropical habitation of the poorer class. No one seemedstirring about the place except far back in the rear. Here there was athick plantation of high resinous bushes. One man was feeding theseinto a rude grinding mill operated by a big lazy mule treading in acircle.
Dave stood quietly in his place of concealment for fully half an hour.The man drove his mule away. The place seemed now entirely deserted.However, just as Dave was about to leave the spot someone came out onthe front porch.
"It's the man. Yes, sure, it is Gerstein--Schmitt-Schmitt!" said Dave.
Schmitt-Schmitt was dressed in a thin linen suit. He carried a largebut light wicker valise. This he set down beside a bench, looked at hiswatch, then in the direction of the town, and stretched himself outlazily in a hammock.
"Looks as if he was going away," mused Dave, critically analyzing allthe movements of the person he was spying on. "Looks too as if he wasexpecting and waiting for somebody--probably the pilot."
Dave thought out the situation and its possibilities for about fiveminutes. He decided to go back to the yawl. Then he realized that hewould be considerably interested in hearing what the pilot and his guestmight say when they met.
Schmitt-Schmitt lay with his back to Dave. On this account, and becauseof the shelter of many shrubs and bushes, Dave found it no task at allto cover the space unnoticed between his present hiding-place and theporch.
Its floor was nearly two feet from the ground. Dave crawled way backunder this open space, got pretty nearly under the hammock, and lay onhis back. The porch boards were badly warped and splintered, and hecould look right up at the hammock and its occupant.
At the end of about ten minutes Dave heard footsteps coming up thegraveled walk. He turned his eyes sideways and was gratified torecognize the pilot.
"Whew, this is hot!" ejaculated the owner of the place, stamping heavilyacross the porch and throwing himself into a chair near the hammock, inwhich Schmitt-Schmitt now arose to a sitting posture. Then the speakerglanced in the direction of the plantation where Dave had noticed thetreadmill.
"Ah," continued the pilot, with an angry scowl. "That lazy rascal hasceased making the frew-frew? I will cut him half a day's pay."
"Yes, it is hot," answered his guest. Each of the precious twain had alanguage of his own, so they compromised on very broken English.
"What you done?" asked Schmitt-Schmitt. The pilot chuckled and grinnedfrom ear to ear.
"I have undone," he said gleefully. "Have I not? But the governor wenttoo far. He charged them prices for repairing the _Swallow_ the captainwouldn't stand, and he is doing his own repairing."
"He is?" cried Schmitt-Schmitt, in a tone of alarm. "He is quick,smart. He will be off in twenty-four hours."
"Not at all," declared
the pilot calmly. "You wish him delayed? Delayit shall be, a long delay. Delay after delay. Only--my pay must come.The governor's too. We are exceeding the law for you."
"Both of you shall be rich--rich! As soon as I get my fortune,"promised Schmitt-Schmitt recklessly. "Have you found out for me yet--dothey think they have the treasure aboard the _Swallow_?"
"They have just found out differently, my spies tell me," said thepilot.
"Then they will go right back to search for it," declaredSchmitt-Schmitt. "I know them--plucky fellows, all. They must bestopped."
"Fear not. As I told you," interrupted the pilot calmly, "that end ofit is easy. I hope your getting the treasure is as simple."
"Get these fellows out of the way, get me a ship, and I will show you,"said Schmitt-Schmitt eagerly.
"One thing at a time, then," Dave heard the pilot say next in order."See, my friend."
"A brush, a little bottle of paint?" inquired Schmitt-Schmitt.
Dave wriggled and twisted his neck to get a focus on these two articles,which the pilot held up. Then the pilot leaned over and said somethingto his companion in so low a tone that Dave could not catch its import.
"Capital, capital, oh, that is just famous!" gloated Schmitt-Schmitt."You have found the man to experiment on?"
"He will be here to-night."
"And after the stuff is on?"
"Bah--a sponge and some turpentine, and the patient recovers."
"Good, good!" said Schmitt-Schmitt. "Yes, that will indeed delay the_Swallow_. Now, listen, my friend: I must not run the risk of beingseen by any of the _Swallow_ people."
"No, indeed."
"It would at once give them their cue--my escape from the Windjammers'Island. I have packed my valise, I will disappear for a few days."
"Excellent. You will go at once?"
"I think so. You will remember! A blue light, I am sick or in danger.A red light, I need provisions."
"Signal any time from ten to twelve. I will be on the watch. If yousay so I will start up the launch at once and take you to yourdestination."
"H'm," mused Dave, as double footsteps sounded the length of the porch."Some new mysterious trick to delay the _Swallow_? Schmitt-Schmitt goingaway somewhere? This is too interesting to miss."
Dave crept out from under the porch. He dodged in among some bushes.Peering thence he saw Schmitt-Schmitt leading the way towards the beach,the pilot carrying his wicker satchel.
Dave did not venture to follow them direct. He lined the "frew-frew"plantation, and at a clearing in it near the treadmill cut across it.
From the grinding-mill a rude wooden trough extended. This was full ofa sticky resinous mass, and the ground all round was spattered with theglutinous substance.
"Frew-frew must be a sort of gum or oil they make from those stalksyonder," decided Dave. "The mischief! it's worse than fly paper."
Dave's shoes stuck to broad leaves and lifted them bodily as he walked;they became tangled in vines which raised about him like ropes. He madean effort to get out of the direct zone of stickiness.
Dave leaped over the edge of a board where the wooden trough ran inamong tangled vines and plants.
"Oh, yes!" he gasped. In an instant, as his feet struck a soft, givingmass, Dave knew he was in danger. Unconsciously he had landed in thecenter of an immense cistern--the storage receptacle for the frew-frewproduct.
He tried to reach its edge but was held fast. He struggled to releasehis limbs but was pulled back and dragged down.
Dave sank in five seconds to the neck. His chin went under. As hestarted to yell his mouth was submerged. With a last dip eyesight wasshut out and Dave sank under the sticky mass entirely submerged.
