Part 29 (1/2)
They were coming down to the dock, one evening to take a boat out to their own craft, when an aged colored man, who spoke fairly good English, accosted them. At first Jack took him for a beggar, and gruffly ordered him away, but the fellow insisted.
”I've got news for you, boss,” he said, with a curious British c.o.c.kney accent. ”You lookin' for s.h.i.+pwrecked parties, ain't you?”
”Yes,” said Jack, a bit shortly. But that was common news.
”Well, there's an island about fifty miles from here,” the black went on, ”and there's somethin' bloomin' stringe about it;” for so he p.r.o.nounced ”strange.”
”Strange--what do you mean?” asked Walter.
”Just what I says, boss, stringe. If you was to say it'd be worth arf a crown now--”
”Oh, I haven't time to bother with curiosities!” exclaimed Jack, impatiently.
”Let us hear his story, Jack,” insisted Cora. ”What is it?” she asked, giving him a coin, though not as much as he had asked for.
”'Thank ye kindly, Miss. It's this way,” said, the colored Englishman. ”I works on a fis.h.i.+n' boat, and a few days ago, comin'
back, we sighted this island. We needed water, and we went ash.o.r.e to get it, but--well, we comes away without it.”
”Why was that?” asked Walter, curiously.
”Because, boss, there's a strange creature on that island, that's what there is,” said the negro. ”He scared all of us stiff. He was all in rage and t.i.tters, and when he found we was sheering off, without coming ash.o.r.e, he went wild, and flung his cap at us. It floated off sh.o.r.e, and I picked it up, bein' on that side of the boat.”
”But how does this concern us?” asked Jack, rousing a little.
”I could show you that cap, boss,” the Negro went on. ”I've got it here. It's dark, but maybe you can make out the letters on it. I can't read very good.”
Jack held the cap up in the gleam of a light on the water-front. His startled eyes saw a cap, such as sailors wear, while in faded gilt letters on the band was the name: ”RAMONA.”
CHAPTER XXII
THE LONELY ISLAND
Walter, looking over Jack's shoulder, rubbed his eyes as though to clear them from a mist, and then, as he saw the faded gilt letters, he closed both eyes, opening them again quickly to make sure of a perfect vision.
”Jack!” he murmured. ”Do I really see it?”
”I--I guess so,” was the faltering answer.
”Cora, look here!”
The girls, who had drawn a little aside at the close approach of the negro, came up by twos, Cora and Belle walking together.
”What is it?” asked Jack's sister, thinking perhaps the man had made a second charity appeal to her brother, and that he wanted her advice on it.
”Look,” said Jack simply, and he extended the cap.
As Walter had done, Cora was at first unable to believe the word she saw there.