Jerry vouchsafed no explanation of his ordered consultation until the three men in question had come down to the cabin where he and the boys waited. Mart detected something strange in the old man’s manner, and the instant the men came down he saw an insolent expression on Birch’s face that he did not understand. He was soon to understand it, however, with a good many other things.
“Now, comrades, what had best be done?” asked Jerry. “These here lads don’t want us to make the Kanakas go down, and you don’t want to go down neither. Our dynamite’s gone, so I asks you again, what’s to be done?”
Yorke leered with his twisted mouth.
“Take a rope’s end to the Kanakas, Shark. Ain’t you master aboard here?”
“Aye, that I am, Yorke, but owners is owners.”
Jerry chuckled again, which disarmed Bob’s anger. Mart was watching the four men anxiously. Their attitude puzzled him, for the seamen were undoubtedly insolent, but Jerry seemed to pay no attention; and the old quartermaster was usually a stickler for sea etiquette.
“Are you sure the Pirate Shark’s down there, Jerry?” asked Bob suddenly. “Don’t you think he’s gone out to sea—”
“No, no, lad, he lives down there—eight fathom down, in the wreck, with the fish all around and us up above.”
“He didn’t go after the Kanakas,” persisted Bob skeptically.
“You’re right, lad, he didn’t—’cause why, he knowed better, he did! He’s waitin’ till a diver goes down, lads—a real diver wi’ the shoes an’ helmet, as can’t swim about like the Kanakas. I’ll go down myself.”
“What!”
The cry of surprise broke from men and boys alike, but Jerry nodded, his jaw set and his old face showing a sudden angry determination.
“Yes. I’ll go down, wi’ some kind o’ weapon, and I’ll—”
“Take that kris of mine!” shouted Bob eagerly.
“Stow your jaw!” The one-eyed Birch turned on them roughly and threateningly, to Mart’s amazement. “Jerry, stop this fooling. What you goin’ to do with these kids, eh?”
“Let them go down,” broke in Borden, a malicious expression on his wrinkled face. “Let ’em go down, Jerry, to the wreck.”
“Shut up!” Jerry straightened up. So swiftly had this dialogue passed that the two boys had hardly realized its import, when the old quartermaster shook his fist at Birch. “Shut up, I say! Them boys ain’t a-goin’ to be hurt, understand? Nor they ain’t goin’ to hurt us neither; I’ll see to that. Borden, you and Yorke go up and lay that engineer in irons in the forehold. Birch, get hold o’ Dailey and take a gun to them Kanakas till they agree to go down. This here is business, and I’m boss. So step lively.”
The men obeyed quickly, for Jerry’s gentle face was transformed into furious energy. The two boys, however, leaped forward with an angry cry as the meaning of his orders broke on them.
“See here,” exclaimed Mart, taking the old man by the shoulder and whirling him around to face them. “What’s this mean anyhow?”
“You’re crazy with the heat, Jerry,” added Bob angrily. “This isn’t any pirate—”
Jerry, with unexpected strength, put a hand on each of their chests and flung them back with seeming ease. When they recovered, his blue eyes were blazing and a revolver showed in his hand.
“Now, lads,” he said in his soft, penetrating voice, “I like you, I do, and I’m takin’ care o’ you. You heard what old Borden said, eh? ‘Let ’em go down to the wreck,’ he said, lads, but not me. No, old Jerry likes you, an’ you ain’t a-goin’ to be hurt.”
“Why—why, blame it all, what do you mean?” gasped Mart.
“He’s puttin’ up a joke on us, Mart,” grinned Bob. Jerry chuckled.
“Joke, eh? Look ye here, lads. Up back at the village yonder, the cap’n and Joe Swanson is took care of in a hut. They’re safe enough, but they’re took care of. That’s why I went ashore first, to see my friends. This here yacht belongs to me, lads, until we get up the treasure out o’ the wreck. Then me and the rest, we’ll be off all shipshape and Bristol fashion, we will, and no one won’t be hurt. Understand that, lads?”
Mart stared. But there was no denying the earnestness of the old man. Then over both boys flashed the whole thing—the three old men plotting at Waikiki, the different snatches of talk they had heard, everything that pointed to the same end. Jerry and his comrades had seized theSeamew.
“You mean you’re a gang of pirates?” asked Bob, paralyzed with astonishment.
“That’s it, lads,” chuckled Jerry calmly. “You ain’t to be hurt so long’s you keep quiet, lads. Pirates it is—the fish down below and us up here above, lads. But when we’ve got the treasure out o’ the wreck, we’ll set the cap’n free and leave you wi’ the ship. Fish tell no tales, lads—fish tell no tales!”
And with that Jerry turned and ascended the companion, revolver in hand.
CHAPTER XII
THE ELEPHANT GUN
The boys sank into chairs, stunned. Their wildest dreams had fallen short of this terrible reality, and when it finally faced them they were staggered by it. Captain Hollinger and Swanson prisoners ashore; the yacht in the hands of pirates!
“Mart, it—it’s awful!” blurted out Bob, white-faced. “Jerry must have meant to do this all along! What if dad—”
“Buck up, Holly,” said Mart cheeringly, though he felt a terrible dismay within him. “Your dad ain’t in any danger. Jerry went ashore to arrange with the natives to hold him, or to keep him out after tigers. He’s all right, and Swanson’s with him.”
“Looks like Swanson wouldn’t join ’em,” replied Bob dully. “Maybe they’ll kill ’em both, Mart.”
“Nonsense!” Mart forced himself to brace up, in order to overcome his friend’s hopeless despair. “Jerry’s fixed this whole thing so’s to kill nobody, Bob. That’s easy to see. All he’s after is the treasure that he thinks is down there in the wreck. When he gets that, he and the rest will light out with it, that’s all. They’re not the old kind of pirates. They’re bad enough, but they’ve got too much sense to murder anyone.”
Under this sensible view of the situation Bob began to take a more cheerful outlook, for he was more worried about his father than himself. The broken wireless was now explained, and although Mart thought that he could repair it, that would be out of the question at present. They agreed that their best plan would be to accept things quietly, but that Mart should get the wireless in shape at the first opportunity. He knew their position, and if he could send out one call for help it would undoubtedly be answered, as there were plenty of ships in these waters.
There was a tramping of feet on the deck, with loud shouts, and the boys awoke from their lethargy of despair. It suddenly occurred to Bob that they might arm the Kanakas and retake the ship, but upon searching for Captain Hollinger’s rifles, they found all vanished. Beyond a doubt, Jerry and his men had confiscated the weapons and with them could easily hold the Kanakas in check.
The only weapon remaining was an old elephant gun which Mart found in a locker. It was a brute of a rifle, more like a cannon in appearance, and there was no ammunition for it; in fact, Bob explained that his father only kept it as a curiosity, and it was quite useless. Mart laid it down, giving up thoughts of resistance.
“Let’s see if they’ll let us up on deck, Holly.”
“Sure. Jerry ain’t afraid of us, Mart. He knows we’re helpless.”
The discouraged Bob led the way up the companion. They reached the deck with no opposition, and found Jerry and his mates in complete possession. Up forward, the Kanakas were huddled in an angry but helpless mass under the rifles of Dailey and Birch, while Borden and Yorke were just carrying the body of the Scotch engineer into the forecastle. There was blood on the man’s brow and he was heavily ironed, which proved that he had not gone down without resistance.
The boys stood where they were, watching. Jerry had led one of the Kanakas to the gangway and was endeavoring to for
ce him to don the diving outfit. But, although the old quartermaster’s face was terrible in its rage, with his white hair flying free and his blue eyes flashing fire, the Kanaka stolidly refused, even when Jerry placed his pistol against the brown chest of the man.
For a moment the boys thought Jerry would murder him, but Birch intervened with the suggestion that they send down four of the Kanakas again to see how the wreck lay. To this Jerry assented, as did the Kanakas themselves, and Dailey sang out that two praus were coming out of the river toward them.
Jerry at once put Birch in charge of the gangway landing and the four men who were diving, and without paying any heed to the boys, assembled his mates for a brief conference, at the ladder.
“No use tryin’ to force the Kanakas,” declared Yorke. “I know ’em, Shark Smith, and so do you. They’ll never put on that divin’ dress, not if we flogged ’em.”
“Yorke’s right,” spoke up Borden. “Send ’em ashore, Jerry. Send ’em ashore in the praus, and the engineer with ’em.”
“Yes,” added Dailey with an oath, and a black look toward the boys. “And put them two kids ashore, too, Jerry.”
“What are you afraid of, mates?” Jerry chuckled and tipped Mart a wink. “Them lads stay here, mates—hostages, they are. They can’t do us no hurt, and the cap’n won’t neither while we hold his son. See? But we’ll send them Kanakas ashore, mates. I’ll arrange wi’ the Malays to hold the crowd safe for a couple o’ weeks, then we’ll be off an’ gone to Saigon in the boats, wi’ the treasure.”
Mart glanced at Bob, and the boys exchanged a sickly grin. The reason for old Jerry’s clemency now became evident. With Bob in his hands, he well knew that he was safe from any effort on the part of Captain Hollinger to retake the vessel, even should the captain and Swanson escape.
Upon this the mutineers agreed, and save for the four Kanakas who were now engaged in diving, the others were summoned aft to the landing and bound securely, one by one. The boys advanced to the rail, and were watching for the reappearance of the four brown bodies in the water, when Jerry gave a yell and leaped down to the landing in a perfect frenzy, shaking his fist and cursing, apparently at nothing.
“Good heavens, Bob!” gasped Mart. “Look at the water!”
Gazing down, the boys felt suddenly sick. For up through the water was rising a red stain, and even as they looked, they saw the figures of three men come shooting up in wild fear. The brown bodies leaped for the landing and dragged themselves up—and as they did so the two boys distinctly saw a great gray shape, so huge that it appeared monstrous, sweep past underneath the ship.
“By juniper!” exclaimed Bob weakly. “Did you see that, Mart!”
Mart nodded and turned away, unable to speak. He knew only too well that one of the Kanakas had been caught by the shark, and the giant size of the terrible fish was too plainly attested by the panic of the other Kanakas, who were shivering and gray with fright. That red stain and the giant shadow in the water were destined to remain in the boys’ dream for many a day.
The chattering natives were somewhat relieved from their panic when the two praus shot alongside the gangway and Jerry held animated converse with his friend the headman of the village. Their words were unintelligible, but from Jerry’s satisfied air the boys made out that his plans must have gone well, and that the captain and mate were by this time prisoners, or safely hunting tiger somewhere in the jungle.
More fruit was brought aboard, and Jerry presented the headman with one of Captain Hollinger’s cherished rifles, to Bob’s wrath. After this, the bound Kanakas were taken aboard the two praus, the still unconscious but not badly hurt engineer was carried down, to join his chief on shore with the captain and mate, and the praus shoved off.
Thus there were left on board the yacht only the boys, Jerry and his four mates, and Ah Sing, the Chinese steward. Ah Sing had gained a glimpse of the proceedings and had promptly barricaded himself in his quarters, where he took to burning joss sticks in wild panic. As he would make no answer either to Jerry or the boys, Mart and Bob set to work getting something to eat, for it was getting well on toward noon, and the occupation would at least keep their minds busy.
Although some of the men flung them occasional black looks, the death of the Kanaka and that fleeting vision of the giant shark had sobered everyone tremendously. Not until the men had gathered in the mess-saloon—for they were making free with the officers’ quarters, though they had touched nothing except the rifles and revolvers—and had stowed away some of the tinned provisions and hot coffee that the boys provided, did their spirits seem to rise. Jerry had been remarkably silent, but he thawed out over the coffee.
“Well, what next?” queried the one-eyed Birch, leaning back in his chair and lighting one of Captain Hollinger’s cigars, as did the rest. “Now we’re rid o’ the Kanakas, mates, and the ship’s ours, what next, I asks?”
“Jerry’s the cap’n now,” grinned Dailey. “How about it, Shark Smith?”
“I’m a-goin’ down after that there Pirate Shark,” announced Jerry, his mouth grim and set. He seemed to enjoy the consternation of the others hugely. “Now look ye here, mates. We’ve lost that dynamite. The only way to get at the treasure is to kill that there shark. He’s mine, an’ I’m a-goin’ to kill him, mates. Bob, lad, you’ll lend old Jerry that ’ere kris, won’t you?”
The old man’s lack of fear, or rather his stubborn determination to kill the Pirate Shark, was amazing. There was something about the gentle-faced old quartermaster, in spite of his plotting and his villainy, which attracted the boys—perhaps it was merely because he professed to like them. That he really cared nothing about them, except as hostages, they knew very well; he was caring for them in order to save his own skin.
However, Jerry soon proved that his brains were working as fast and as surely as ever. He listened to the protestations and arguments of the others unmoved, and at last brought down his fist with decision, until the dishes rattled in their skids.
“Mates, and you, lads, look ye here. That shark, I says, has had one good meal today, ain’t that so? Well, he’s a wise un, he is. He’ll know that no more divers’ll come down after he’s gobbled one, so he won’t hang around waitin’. He’ll mebbe go off to take a stroll, like.
“All I want, mates, is to get inside that there wreck, with that kris in my hand. Then if he comes at me, why, he can’t get at me, d’ye see! So long as a man’s got his back to a wall, wi’ solid bottom under him, a shark can’t get him. It’s when he’s goin’ down or comin’ up that the shark can come along an’ tip him over an’ cut his lines and end him, mates.”
This argument was plausible, and impressed all with its good sense. However, that did not remove the danger. It was highly probable that the shark was still hanging under the shadow of the Seamew waiting for more divers, and Jerry’s courage did not alter matters in that respect.
The Kanakas had reported that the bottom was coral rock, and that the wreck seemed to be lying on its side, with gaping openings through the deck where the masts had been. During the discussion that followed Jerry’s expressed plan, it was decided that if the ship was indeed an old galleon, she might have lodged on the rocks and split apart under the action of the currents, which would account for the openings in her decks. She was so overgrown with marine life, the Kanakas had said, that little could be made out during their short visits below the surface.
“No use talking, mates,” declared Jerry obstinately, “I’m a-goin’ down, and the sooner the better. Mates, you ’tend the pumps and keep watch for any sign o’ that there black fin. If you see it, haul up. Bob, lad, lend me that ’ere kris, will you?”
As Jerry was plainly set upon the undertaking, there was nothing for it but to assent, which the other men did with bad grace. All tramped out on deck at once, and while Bob departed for the kris, Mart followed to the landing. As he did so, he noted that while the men still wore revolver belts, they had left their rifles at the head of the ladder. Jerr
y noticed it also, and paused.
“Yorke,” he ordered abruptly, “you stand by wi’ one o’ them guns, in case I come up wi’ the Pirate Shark after me. If you get a shot at him, take it and haul away.”
Yorke nodded and remained on deck beside Mart, while the others went down the ladder to the landing with Jerry. Here the two diving suits had been laid out that morning, together with the wooden box containing the pumps. The hose and lifelines had already been connected, and all was prepared for a descent.
As Jerry began getting into the neck of the huge rubber dress, he cautioned the others against pulling him up too fast, for even in eight fathoms there is danger from the sudden lessening of air-pressure should the diver be hauled up rapidly. At this juncture Bob reappeared with his kris, which was handed down to the men below.
The two boys stood watching, a dozen feet from Yorke, who leaned carelessly on his rifle. Jerry struggled into the dress by slow degrees, for the sun was burning hot, then got the cuffs clipped tightly about his wrists while Dailey and Birch fastened on the heavy corselet. The sixteen-pound boots came next, and very comical indeed the old quartermaster looked, with his white hair blowing in the wind and his blue eyes as eager and lively as those of Bob himself.
Then Borden helped him into the huge copper helmet and screwed it on fast, while Dailey and Birch went to the pumps and began to turn the two handles. Jerry had not yet closed the front window of the helmet, and now his voice came for the last time.
“Well, good-bye, mates and lads! Here’s for the treasure o’ the Pirate Shark!”
With that he closed his helmet and seized the kris, waved a hand at the pumping men, and calmly stepped off the landing while Borden paid out the air hose and lifelines. For an instant the two boys stared down at the flashing shape in the water, then Bob felt a tug at his arm and met the excited eyes of his chum.
“Go get that old elephant gun,” ordered Mart in a whisper. “Quick! Step soft!”
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 255
