Part 1 (1/2)
DAVE FEARLESS AND THE CAVE OF MYSTERY.
Roy Rockwood.
CHAPTER I
SPLENDID FORTUNE
”It's gone! It's gone!”
”What is gone, Dave?”
”The treasure, Bob.”
”But it was on board--in the boxes.”
”No--those boxes are filled with old iron and lead. We have been tricked, robbed! After all our trouble, hards.h.i.+p, and peril, I fear that the golden reward we counted on so grandly has slipped from our grasp.”
It was on the deck of the _Swallow_, moored in the harbor of a far-away Pacific Ocean tropical island, that Dave Fearless spoke. He had just rushed up from the cabin in a great state of excitement.
Below loud, anxious, and angry voices sounded. As one after another of the officers and sailors appeared on the deck, all of them looked pale and perturbed.
What might be called a terrific, an overwhelming discovery had just been made by Captain Paul Broadbeam and by Dave's father, Amos Fearless, the veteran ocean diver.
For two weeks, after a hard battle with the sea and its monsters, after fighting savages and piratical enemies, the beautiful steamer, the _Swallow_, had plowed through sun-tipped waves, favored by gentle breezes, homeward-bound.
Every heart on board had been light and happy. Labeled and sealed on the sandy floor of the ballast room, lay four boxes believed to contain over half a million dollars in gold coin.
Legally this vast treasure belonged to Amos and Dave Fearless, father and son. To those who had aided and protected them, however, from Doctor Barrell, on board the _Swallow_ to make deep-sea soundings and secure specimens of rare marine monsters for the United States Government, down to Bob Vilett, Dave's chosen chum and the ambitious young a.s.sistant engineer of the vessel, every soul on board knew that when they reached San Francisco, the generous ocean diver and his son would make a most liberal division of the splendid fortune they had fished up in mid-ocean.
As said, the serenity of these fond hopes was now rudely blasted. Dave, rus.h.i.+ng up on deck quite pale and agitated, had made the announcement that brought Bob to his feet with a shock.
They were two st.u.r.dy boys. The flavor of the briny deep was manifest in their bronzed faces, their attire, their clear bright eyes, and sinewy muscles. They had known hards.h.i.+p and peril such as make men resolute and brave. Although Dave was deeply distressed, determination rather than despair was indicated in the way in which he took the bad, bad news now being conveyed with lightning speed, mostly with depressing effect, all through the s.h.i.+p.
Bob Vilett steadied himself against a capstan and stared in silence at his chum. Dave's hand grasped the bow rail with an iron grip, as if thereby seeking to relieve his tense feelings. His eyes were directed away from Bob, away from the s.h.i.+p, fixedly, almost sternly, scanning the ocean stretch that spread almost inimitably towards the west. It seemed as if mentally he was going back over the long course they had just pursued, never dreaming that they were carrying a ballast of worthless old junk instead of the royal fortune on which they had fondly counted.
”Well, all I've got to say,” observed Bob at length, with a great sigh, ”is that it's pretty tough.”
”I fancy,” responded Dave, in a set, thoughtful way, ”it's a case of three times and out. We fished it up--one. We've lost it--two. We must find it again--three. That's all.”
”You're dreaming!” vociferated Bob. ”Say, Dave Fearless, you're a genius and a worker, but if you mean that there is the least hope in the world in going back over a course of over a thousand miles hunting up men with a two weeks' start of us--desperate men, too--scouring a trackless ocean for fellows who have to hide, and know how to do it, why, it's--bos.h.!.+”
”Bob Vilett,” said Dave, with set lip and unflinching eye, ”we are only boys, but we have tried to act like men, and Captain Broadbeam respects us for it. We have his confidence. He is old, not much of a thinker, but brave as a lion and ready for any honest, logical suggestion.
Here's a dilemma, a big one. You and I--young, quick, ardent--we must think for him. We have been robbed. We must catch the thieves. We must recover that treasure. Where's the best and surest, and the quickest way to do it? Put on your thinking-cap, Bob, and try and do some of the hardest brain work of your life.”
”Hold on--where are you going?” demanded Bob, as his chum went away over into a remote corner of the bow and sat down on an isolated water barrel.
But Dave only waved his hand peremptorily, almost irritably, at Bob.
His chum knew that it would be useless to renew the conversation just now. He had seen Dave in just such a mood on other occasions--it was when affairs were going wrong and needed straightening out.