Part 41 (2/2)
Hardly had it ground on the s.h.i.+ngle than a tattered and ragged--a tottering figure crawled from the bushes. It was the figure of a man, much emaciated from hunger. But the eyes showed bright from under the matted hair and from out of the straggly beard. Inez, who had come ash.o.r.e with the first boat-load, sprang forward.
”Padre! Padre!” she cried, opening wide her arms, ”I have found you at last! Padre! Padre!”
The others drew a little aside.
Once more the Tartar was under way. She was nearing the end of her strange cruise, for she was headed for San Juan--the blue harbor of San Juan. Seated on deck, in an easy chair, was a Spanish gentleman, about whom Inez fluttered in a joy of service. It was her father.
He had, after many failures, made his escape from Sea Horse Island in a small boat, and had lived, for some time on the little coral rock, hardly worthy the name islet. He had almost starved, but he was free. Then his privations became too much for him, and he hoisted his signal for help. He would even have welcomed a Spanish party, so distressed was he.
But his own daughter--and friends--came instead. And, had he but waited a few weeks, he need not have so suffered in running away from his prison. The papers Inez had secured would have brought about his freedom from the unjust charge.
”But we have him anyhow!” cried Jack, ”and a good job it was, too!”
”Isn't Jack just splendid!” murmured Bess to Cora. ”He is so well again!”
”Yes, the trip, in spite of its hards.h.i.+ps, has worked wonders for him.”
”And I suppose we'll have to go back North again soon,” remarked Belle. ”Papa's business here is practically finished.”
”Yes, we are going back to civilization, without smugglers and mutineers,”' said Mrs. Kimball.
”Oh, I rather liked them, they were sort of a tonic,” laughed Mrs.
Robinson.
”Sometimes one can take a little too much tonic,” spoke Cora. ”But it certainly has been a wonderful experience.”
The Tartar dropped anchor at San Juan, coming to rest in the waters blue, over which she had skimmed on so many adventuresome trips of late.
”Well, are you glad to be back here?” asked Jack, of Senor Ralcanto.
”Indeed, yes, I am. And you have all been so kind to me. I can never repay you for what you have done for my daughter and myself,”
and he stroked the dark hair of Inez, who knelt at his side.
”Well, send for us again if you--er--need our services,” suggested Walter.
”Thank you--but I am going to keep out of prison after this,” was the laughing answer.
There is little more to tell of this story. Senor Ralcanto was speedily recovering from his harsh experiences, when our friends took a steamer for New York, some weeks later. The mutineers and smugglers of the Ramona, including Senor Ramo, the real, influential leader, were duty punished.
After a final cruise about the blue waters of San Juan, in the Tartar, our friends bade farewell to the craft that had served them so efficiently.
”Good-bye!” called Cora, as she stood on the steamer-deck, homeward bound, and waved her hand to the blue sky, the blue waters, the blue mountains and the green, waving palms. ”Good-bye! Good-bye!”
And we will echo her words.
THE END
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