CHAPTER VIII--TOM DISCOVERS THE HEIR
Tom Halstead wasn't drowned--not quite. The wicked seldom find safety inbelieving that their evil work has come out in the way that will mostbenefit them. We shall presently see what _did_ happen to Tom.
Although he tried to pretend that he was not affected by the tragedythat he believed had just been enacted, Senor Alvarez, when he returnedto his seat by the wheel, did not at once call for speed ahead. Insteadhe rolled a fresh cigarette with trembling fingers, spilling so much ofthe tobacco that he had to make a fresh start. When, at last, he had thething lighted and had taken a couple of whiffs, he turned to the blackman to ask:
"After all, Pedro, what difference can it make if the meddling boy chosethe ocean to our company? Am I not a gentleman of Honduras, Don EmilioAlvarez? Am I not descended from Spanish grandees? Why should I bothermy head because one of the American riff-raff has gone overboard!"
"Dat's a fac', boss. Why should yo' bother yo' haid?" responded Pedro,though he did not say it very heartily.
Don Emilio smoked for some moments in silence. Then the sight of a cabinsloop rounding a point of land to the northeast of them claimed hisattention.
"Pedro," he called, pointing, "that sloop carries the red jackfluttering from her bowsprit tip. That, then, is our boat."
"Fo' shuah, boss. An' I done hope dat Cap'n Jonas French done got somegood news ob de kind dat we wanter heah."
"Give us some speed and we'll soon be alongside the sloop."
The launch was soon going along at her usual speed of some six miles anhour, veering in shore somewhat to cross the course of the sloop. Asthey came to close quarters a voice from the other boat called:
"The news is all right, Alvarez."
It was the voice of the florid-faced one, yet he, too, had changedalmost as much as had the gentleman from Honduras. Captain French'scheeks were no longer deep red in color. His skin had more of a bronzehue. As such changes do not occur naturally within a few days, it wasevident that the captain must have employed some dye with much skill.Even the tint of his hair was changed.
"I have something to discuss with you, my friend," replied Don Emilio."I will come aboard for a while. Throw off your mainsheet and lie to, sothat I can come alongside."
Pedro slowed down the speed considerably. Don Emilio, with a skill thatspoke of some practice, ran the launch around to leeward and up underthe sloop's quarter. The two craft touched lightly and at that instantAlvarez stepped aboard the sloop. Pedro, with his hand on the starboardwheel rope, eased gently away from the sailing sloop.
"Now run into the cove, Pedro," called back Don Emilio. "Wait thereuntil I come to you, unless danger threatens. If you see signs oftrouble, act in whatever way you may need to act."
"I'se understand yo', boss," replied the black man.
As Captain Jonas French hauled in his mainsheet and the sloop's sailfilled, Pedro made obliquely for shore. Having no need of speed, he madeless demand on the engine than he had been doing.
Some time later Pedro ran halfway into a little cove that dented themainland of Massachusetts. Stopping the speed he stepped forward andcast over an anchor, reeling in the slack and making fast. This done,the darky drew out an old pipe, filled it and lighted it, settling backfor a lazy smoke.
And Tom Halstead? He was doing his best not to pant and betray himself,but his had been a rough experience. None but a boy as much at home inthe water as on land could have stood the strain of this performance.
When Tom went overboard, striking the water, the cold shock had arousedall his faculties. He went over the starboard gunwale and, findinghimself going, had had the sense to dive as deeply as he could. Hepassed under the hull, coming out at port. Then he turned, keeping stillunder water until one of his hands touched the port side of the hull.
Just as this happened Halstead's other hand struck a line trailing inthe water. Then the boy was forced to come up for air. As he did so heheard the voices of the pair aboard over at the starboard gunwale. Thatgave Tom a safe chance to give the trailing rope a pull. It held,showing that it was made fast on board.
Necessity makes one think fast. To Tom the discovery of this rope was amost unexpected bit of good fortune. As soon as he had time to get hisbreath, he tied a loop in it securely. Through this he could thrust oneor both arms, at need.
The trailing overboard of a line in this fashion was a piece ofdisorderly ship's housekeeping of which an American skipper would hardlybe guilty. But the sailors of the Latin races are less particular. Thatline might have been over the gunwale for hours or even days, but a manlike Alvarez would give little heed to it.
When the launch went on her way again Tom had his right arm hooked wellthrough the loop. He floated, his feet astern along the side, though inno danger from rudder or propeller. His head, out of water, was hiddenby the bulging lines of the launch's side hull. He was not likely to bediscovered unless one of the occupants of the launch leaned well out andlooked down.
"If only they'd run a little slower this would be about as easy as lyingin a soft bed," chuckled the young motor boat captain gleefully. He hadgrinned broadly at Don Emilio's seeming unconcern over his fate.
"I reckon where they go I'm going too," Halstead told himself with greatsatisfaction. His clothing, filled with water, would have beenuncomfortable, even dangerous, had he attempted to swim far, but as itwas the launch's engine was doing all the work. Tom simply allowed hisrather buoyant body to be towed. None the less the speed of the towing,so greatly in excess of a swimmer's speed, began to tell upon hisendurance. Later that cabin sloop was briefly in the boy's sight.Halstead was forced to lower his head all he could in the water, butCaptain French, having no reason to scan the launch's water line, didnot happen to detect the strange "tow." As the two boats went alongsideit was the launch's starboard bow that touched, so that Tom, at port,was in no danger of being seen from the other craft.
Nor was the young motor boat captain again in sight after the two craftparted. Pedro's slower speed, making for the cove, came as a huge reliefto the "boy overboard."
While the anchor was being dropped, Halstead had opportunity to see howwild and deserted a bit of nature the surroundings were. There was not ahouse or other sign of human habitation anywhere in sight.
While Pedro sat up forward, smoking, a voice sounded that thrilledCaptain Tom Halstead with instant wonder.
"Hullo, Pedro! What a nap I must have had."
"Yo' shuahly did sleep fast, chile."
"I'm coming out, now."
"Ef yo' do, young boss, be kyahful," warned the black man.
"Oh, there's no one around here to see me," contended that other voice,and now it sounded as though the owner were in the bow of the craft.
"Ef Ah done thought Ah could trust yo' Ah'd tuhn in in dat forrad cubbymahself," declared the negro. "Ah's powahful drowsy."
"Go ahead, Pedro," agreed the other speaker. "You needn't be afraid ofme. I'll keep a bright lookout."
There was the sound of the negro stowing himself away in the forwardcubby, much roomier than the one Tom had tried at the stern.
Halstead had heard the conversation with a feeling at first as thoughhis brain were whirling inside his head. The long dousing in the waterwas beginning to make itself felt in a chill, but it was not wholly thisthat made the young skipper shake.
"That's Ted Dunstan's voice," he told himself, trembling. "He's on boardthis very craft. I've found the missing Dunstan heir."
Soon Pedro's snores could be heard. Then Tom Halstead hauled himself upalong the rope until he could just peer over the gunwale. His last doubtvanished; he could no longer question his ears, for now his glancefastened upon the living heir of the Dunstans!