CHAPTER III.
OFF FOR THE SOUTH POLE.
The court-room was crowded as the boys entered it, but armed withBilly's police card they soon made their way through a rail thatseparated the main body of the place from the space within which themagistrate was seated. On the way over Frank had related hisconversation over the wire with Captain Hazzard. It appeared thatOyama, the Jap, was missing and that several papers bearing on theobjects of the expedition which were,--except in a general way,--amystery to the boys themselves, had been stolen.
Putting two and two together, Frank had made up his mind that the Japwhose case Billy had been assigned to investigate was none other thanOyama himself, and as they entered the space described above his eyeseagerly swept the row of prisoners seated in the "Pen."
"I was sure of it," the boy exclaimed as his eyes encountered anabject, huddled-up figure seated next a ragged, besotted-lookingtramp.
"Sure of what?" demanded Harry.
"Why, that Oyama was the man who stole the papers from the SouthernCross."
"Well?"
"Well, there he is now."
Frank indicated the abject object in the corner who at the same momentraised a yellow face and bloodshot eyes and gazed blearily at him.There was no sign of recognition in the face, however. In fact the Japappeared to be in a stupor of some sort.
"Is that little Jap known to you?"
Frank turned: a gray moustached man with a red face and keen eyes wasregarding him and had put the question.
"He is--yes," replied the boy, "but----"
"Oh, you need not hesitate to talk to me," replied the stranger, "I amDr. McGuire, the prison surgeon, and I take a professional interest inhis case. The man is stupefied with opium or some drug that seems tohave numbed his senses."
"Do you think it was self-administered?" asked the boy.
"Oh, undoubtedly. Those fellows go on regular opium debauchessometimes. In this case perhaps it is very fortunate for some one thathe was imprudent enough to take such heavy doses of the drug that thepoliceman picked him up, for a lot of papers were found on him. Theyare meaningless to me, but perhaps you can throw some light on them."
"The papers, we believe, are the property of Captain Hazzard, the headof the government's South Polar expedition," exclaimed Frank, whosesuspicions had rapidly become convictions at the sight of the Jap. "Wehave no right to examine into their contents, but I suppose therewould be no harm in our looking at them to make sure. I can thennotify the Captain."
"You are friends of his?"
"We are attached to the expedition," replied Frank, "but I must askyou not to mention it, as I do not know but we are breaking ourpromise of secrecy even in such an important matter as this."
"You can depend that I shall not violate your confidence," promisedDr. McGuire.
It was the matter of few moments only to secure the papers from thecourt clerk. There was quite a bundle of them, some of them sealed.Apparently the thief, elated over his success in stealing them, hadindulged himself in his beloved drug before he had even taken thetrouble to examine fully into his finds. One paper, however, had beenopened and seemed to be, as Frank could not help noticing, a sort ofdocument containing "General Orders" to the expedition.
It consisted of several closely typewritten pages, and on the firstone Frank lit on the magic words,--"--AND CONCERNING THE SHIP OF OLAF,THE VIKING ROVER, YOU WILL PROCEED ACROSS THE BARRIER, USING ALLDISCRETION, AS A RIVAL NATION HAS ALSO SOME INKLING OF THE PRESENCE OFTHE LONG-LOST VESSEL AND,--"
Though the boy would have given a good deal to do so he felt that hecould not honorably read more. He resolutely, therefore, closed thepaper and restored it to its place in the mass of other documents.There was, of course, no question that the papers were the property ofCaptain Hazzard, and that the Jap had stolen them. The latter wastherefore sentenced to spend the next six weeks on Blackwell's Island,by the expiration of which time the Southern Cross would be well onher voyage toward The Great Barrier.
As the boys left the court, having been told that Captain Hazzard'spapers would be sealed and restored him when he called for them andmade a formal demand for their delivery, they were deep in excitedtalk.
"Well, if this doesn't beat all," exclaimed Frank, "we always seem tobe getting snarled up with those chaps. You remember what a tusslethey gave us in the Everglades."
"Not likely to forget it," was the brief rejoinder from Harry.
"I'll never forget winging that submarine of Captain Bellman's," putin Billy.
"Well, boys, exciting as our experiences were down there, I think thatwe are on the verge of adventures and perils that will make them lookinsignificant," exclaimed Frank.
"Don't," groaned Billy.
"Don't what?"
"Don't talk that way. Here am I a contented reporter working hard andhoping that some day my opportunity will come and I shall be a greatwriter or statesman or something and then you throw me off my base bytalking about adventure," was the indignant response.
"Upon my word, Billy Barnes, I think you are hinting that you wouldlike to come along."
"Well, would that be so very curious. Oh cracky! If I only could get achance."
"You think you could get a leave of absence?"
"Two of 'em. But what's the use," Billy broke off with a groan,"Captain Hazzard wouldn't have me and that's all there is to it. No,I'll be stuck here in New York while you fellows are shooting Polarbears--oh, I forgot, there aren't any,--well, anyhow, while you'rehaving a fine time,--just my luck."
"If you aren't the most contrary chap," laughed Frank. "Here a shorttime ago you never even dreamed of coming and now you talk as if you'dbeen expecting to go right along, and had been meanly deprived of yourrights."
"I wonder if the Captain----," hesitated Harry.
"Would take Billy along?" Frank finished for him, "well, we will dothis much. We have got to go over to the Erie Basin now and tellCaptain Hazzard about the recovery of his papers. Billy can come alongif he wants and we will state his case for him, it will take threeboys to manage that sledge anyway," went on Frank, warming up to thenew plan. "I think we can promise you to fix it somehow, Billy."
"You think you can," burst out the delighted reporter, "oh, Frank, ifyou do, I'll--I'll make you famous. I'll write you up as thediscoverer of the ship of Olaf and--"
"That's enough," suddenly interrupted Frank, "if you want to do me afavor, Billy, never mention any more about that till Captain Hazzardhimself decides to tell us about it. We only let what we know of thesecret slip out by accident and we have no right to speculate on whatCaptain Hazzard evidently wishes kept a mystery till the time comes toreveal it."
"I'm sorry, Frank," contritely said Billy, "I won't speak any moreabout it; but," he added to himself, "you can't keep me from thinkingabout it."
As Frank had anticipated, Captain Hazzard agreed to ship Billy Barnesas a member of the expedition. He was to be a sort of generalsecretary and assist the boys with the aeroplane and motor sledge whenthe time came. The reporter's face, when after a brief conference itwas announced to him that he might consider himself one of theSouthern Cross's ship's company, was a study. It was all he could doto keep from shouting at the top of his voice. The contrast betweenthe dignity he felt he ought to assume before Captain Hazzard and thedesire he felt to skip about and express his feelings in some activeway produced such a ludicrous mixture of emotions on Billy's face thatboth the boys and the captain himself had to burst into uncontrollablelaughter at it. Laughter in which the good natured Billy, withoutexactly understanding its cause, heartily joined.
A week later the final good-byes were said and the Southern Cross wasready for sea. She was to meet a coal-ship at Monte Video in theArgentine Republic which would tow her as far as the Great Barrier.This was to conserve her own coal supply. The other vessel would thendischarge her cargo of coal,--thus leaving the adventurers a plentifulsupply of fuel in case the worst came to worst, and they were frozenin for a second winter.
In case nothing was heard of them by the following fall a relief shipwas to be despatched which would reach them roughly about thebeginning of December, when the Antarctic summer is beginning to drawto a close. The commander of the Southern Cross expected to reach thegreat southern ice-barrier in about the beginning of February, whenthe winter, which reaches its climax in August, would be just closingin. The winter months were to be devoted to establishing a camp, fromwhich in the following spring--answering to our fall--the expeditionwould be sent out.
"Hurray! a winter in the Polar ice," shouted the boys as the programwas explained to them.
"And a dash for the pole to cap it off," shouted the usuallyunemotional Frank, his face shining at the prospect.
As has been said, the Southern Cross was an old whaler. Built ratherfor staunchness than beauty, she was no ideal of a mariner's dream asshe unobtrusively cleared from her wharf one gray, chilly morningwhich held a promise of snow in its leaden sky. There were few but thestevedores, who always hang about "the Basin," and some idlers, towatch her as she cast off her lines and a tug pulled her head roundtill she pointed for the opening of the berth in which she had lain solong. Of these onlookers not one had any more than a hazy idea ofwhere the vessel was bound and why.
As the Southern Cross steamed steadily on down the bay, past the bleakhills of Staten Island, on by Sandy Hook, reaching out its long,desolate finger as if pointing ships out to the ocean beyond, thethree boys stood together in a delighted group in the lee of a pile ofsteel drums, each containing twenty gallons of gasolene.
"Well, old fellow, we're off at last," cried Frank, his eye kindlingas the Southern Cross altered her course a bit and stood due southdown the Jersey coast.
"That's it," cried Billy, with a wave of his soft cap, "off at last;we're the three luckiest boys on this globe, I say."
"Same here," was Harry's rejoinder.
The blunt bows of the Southern Cross began to lift to the long heaveof the ever restless Atlantic. She slid over the shoulder of one bigwave and into the trough of another with a steady rhythmic glide thatspoke well for her seaworthy qualities. Frank, snugly out of thenipping wind in the shelter of the gasolene drums, was silent forseveral minutes musing over the adventurous voyage on which they weresetting out. Thus he had not noticed a change coming over Harry andBilly. Suddenly a groan fell on his ear. Startled, the boy lookedround.
On the edge of the hatch sat Billy and beside him, his head sunk inhis hands, was Harry.
"What's the matter with you fellows?" demanded Frank.
At that instant an unusually large breaker came rolling towards theSouthern Cross and caught her fair and square on the side of the bow.Deep laden as she was it broke over her and a wall of green water cametumbling and sweeping along the decks. Frank avoided it by leapingupward and seizing a stanchion used to secure the framework holdingdown the deck load.
But neither Harry nor Billy moved, except a few minutes later whenanother heavy roll sent them sliding into the scuppers.
"Come, you fellows, you'd better get up, and turn in aft," said Frank.
"Oh, leave me alone," groaned Billy.
"I'm going to die, I think," moaned Harry.
At this moment the new steward, a raw boy from Vermont, who had beenat sea for several years, came up to where the two boys weresuffering.
"Breakfast's ready," he announced, "there's some nice fat bacon andfried eggs and jam and----"
It was too much. With what strength they had left Billy and Harrytumbled to their feet and aimed simultaneous blows at him.
It was a final effort and as the Southern Cross plunged onward towardher mysterious goal she carried with her two of the most sea-sick boysever recorded on a ship's manifest.
Boy Aviators' Polar Dash; or, Facing Death in the Antarctic Page 3
