“What!” Stryver shouted, and went off to get more details.
Nancy said to Ned, “Snorky has probably joined Spike and maybe others on the island.”
A few minutes later Captain Stryver came topside and said all the men except Mr. Smith would go back to the island in search of the fugitive.
“When it’s safe for you girls to land, I’ll let you know.”
Mrs. Chatham, Mrs. Smith, Nancy, and the other girls remained on deck. Anxiously they watched the men go ashore, then vanish behind a fringe of palms.
Mrs. Chatham walked the deck nervously. “Oh, I wish they’d return!” she said over and over.
“Listen!” Nancy cried suddenly. “I thought I heard someone shout!”
“So did II” agreed Ellen, who was standing beside her.
A moment later the watchers saw several men on the beach. Seizing the binoculars, Nancy adjusted them to her eyes.
“They’ve caught Snorky!” she exclaimed. “Another man, too. I think he’s Spike Doty.”
“Who’s that in the white suit?” Mrs. Chatham asked. She had observed him join the group on the beach.
Nancy replied, “His big hat is pulled too low for me to get a good look at him.”
As she watched intently Nancy could tell that the newcomer was arguing with Captain Stryver. He seemed to be ordering the Primrose party away from the island. This was substantiated by Ned and a sailor when they rowed back to the yacht a few minutes later.
“That Heyborn fellow in white claims he owns the island,” Ned explained. “He won’t permit us to land or to dig.”
“But there’s been a lot of digging on the island already,” Nancy said in quick protest.
“He claims he knew nothing about it. We’ve caught Snorky, and that other guy in the blue jeans may be the one who robbed the Smith home,” Ned declared. “I came back to get Nancy and Ellen for a positive identification.”
The two girls set off for the island with Ned. Heyborn had disappeared before their arrival. One glance satisfied them that Snorky’s companion was indeed Spike Doty.
Captain Stryver said, “Mr. Heyborn, the owner of the island, volunteered to look after the prisoners, but I declined the offer. I don’t entirely trust him.”
He lowered his voice when he saw the man in the white suit returning. Darkness was coming on, and although Nancy tried her best, she could not obtain a good view of the bearded man’s face buried under a low-brimmed hat.
“Please let us search,” Ellen pleaded. “It means so much to Mrs. Chatham and my family.”
“Sorry, I can’t allow that,” he said irritably.
Ned and Ellen would have pressed the matter further but Nancy gave them a warning glance.
“I can see your point of view,” she said to the owner. “We’ll leave at once.”
Her friends stared, aghast. A few minutes later, on their way to the yacht, they demanded an explanation.
“I wanted to throw him off the track,” Nancy told them. “I don’t believe he’s the owner of Little Palm Island. He must be a pal of Snorky and Spike.”
Ellen was thoroughly alarmed. “We must do something to stop him then. But what?”
“I have a little plan,” Nancy said.
She proposed that a few of them wait until after dark, then steal back to the island and investigate.
“Where does Mr. Heyborn live?” she asked Ned. “He must have some kind of a house in the woods.”
“It’s a cabin,” Ned replied. “We saw it from a distance while we were chasing Spike and Snorky among the trees.”
“Then we should begin there,” Nancy stated. “Maybe Bill will go with us.”
Ellen, who was somewhat timid, did not care to be included in the adventure. Bill Tomlin, however, was enthusiastic.
“Nothing would suit me better than to round up that gang,” he said.
In a short while the trio quietly launched a boat. With muffled oars they rowed to the beach as thick clouds scudded overhead, obscuring the moon.
“No sign of anyone around,” Ned whispered as the boat grated on the beach. “All the same, we’d better be on our guard.”
After camouflaging their craft with palm leaves, the three moved stealthily through the tropical woods. Presently they came to a worn path which led them to a one-story building made of palmetto logs.
“That’s the place,” Ned told his companions. “Now what?”
“Somehow we must look inside,” Nancy whispered to the boys. “I suspect that the real owner of the island may have been taken prisoner by the man who claims to be Heyborn. And I’ll bet that the impostor is here, too.”
Moving to the rear of the cabin, flashlights off, the three paused beside a window. Nancy pressed her face against the screen.
“Let me have your flashlight, Ned,” she whispered. “I think a woman is lying on the bed, bound and gagged.”
“Maybe it’s Mrs. Heyborn,” he replied.
Nancy flashed the beam, drawing in her breath at what she saw. A sleeping woman lay on the bed, her ankles tied together and chained to one of the posts!
Horrified, Nancy raised the screen and called to her softly. At first the figure did not stir. When the woman did lift her head from the pillow, she shivered in fear.
“Don’t be afraid!” Nancy called in a soothing voice. “We’re here to help you.”
“Please! Please!” the woman pleaded pitifully. “My husband and son are prisoners, too!”
Ned hoisted Nancy through the window so that she could talk with less fear of discovery. He and Bill waited outside, keeping watch.
“Are you Mrs. Heyborn?” Nancy asked, and introduced herself.
“Yes,” the woman murmured. “Two men landed here a few days ago in a boat. They accepted our hospitality, then made us prisoners. My husband and son are chained in another room. Oh, I hope they’re all right!”
“What became of the boat? We didn’t see it when we landed.”
“Gone,” Mrs. Heyborn revealed. “I heard one of the men—the others call him Spike—say it would return in a day or two with a lot more digging equipment.”
After examining the woman’s bonds, Nancy realized she could not hope to release her without the key to the padlock.
“I’ll be back,” she said in a comforting tone. “Then I’ll get this lock off.”
Tiptoeing to the window, she climbed out and rejoined Bill and Ned. She told them everything she had learned.
“We must capture the man who is impersonating Mr. Heyborn and get the key to the padlock from him right away. And, boys, the real Mr. Heyborn and his son are prisoners somewhere.”
The sleeping woman was chained to a bedpost
At the rear of the building was a screened porch which the young people had barely noticed. As they walked around the house they saw that a cot had been set up in the enclosure. A man was stretched out on it.
“That must be the impostor!” Nancy whispered to her companions. “If we’re quiet, we can take him without a struggle!”
Making no sound, the three opened the door of the porch and slipped inside. Ned took a rope from his pocket and bound the man’s feet. The startled prisoner, awakening, struggled to a sitting position. A beard lay on a nearby chair with a big straw hat and white coat.
“Mr. Rorke!” Nancy exclaimed.
He tried to break free, but Ned and Bill held him securely while Nancy tied his hands behind his back. The boys searched his pockets and turned the man’s keys over to Nancy. She hurried to Mrs. Heyborn, freeing her, then her husband and young son.
The little boy grinned sleepily. “This is just like in a storybook,” he remarked.
When Mr. Heyborn heard the entire story, he was amazed. He assured the young people that he would not interfere with the Tomlin treasure hunt.
“Dig to your hearts’ content,” he urged them generously. “My wife and I came here to enjoy a peaceful existence. And our son loves it. I’m a naturalist, connected with the American Mu
seum, and have been studying the flora of the island. All I ask is the privilege of continuing my work without interruption.”
With Spike Doty, Snorky, and Rorke captured, Nancy believed there would be no further trouble. A ship-to-shore telephone call was made to government officials, requesting that a boat be dispatched from the nearest point to take charge of the three prisoners.
On the way back to the yacht Nancy questioned Rorke. He admitted learning of the treasure from the son of the first mate of the Warwick, not the Sea Hawk. The man, now dead, was not named Gambrell. The mate had stolen Captain John Tomlin’s copy of the half section of the parchment map, but had lost it. The only words he could remember on the paper, he had told his son, were “Pa” and “South Atlantic.”
Rorke had discovered the whereabouts of the captain’s twin brother, now known as Tomlin Smith. Accordingly, Rorke offered Ellen’s father money for his section of the map.
At that point in the confession, the rowboat reached the Primrose. Nancy decided to wait until morning for the remainder of the account. Dawn was coming up and the adventurers needed rest.
Nancy fell into a deep sleep, but early in the morning she awakened with a start. From somewhere a young man’s voice was calling, “Nancy Drew! Come out on deck! It’s important!”
She quickly put on a robe and tiptoed to the door. No one was in the corridor.
“Did I dream I was being called?” Nancy wondered.
The summons was not repeated. Nancy went back to bed, but not to sleep. She had just begun to feel drowsy when she heard the summons again. This time the sounds seemed to come through the open porthole.
Once more Nancy got up, poked her head out, and looked to the deck above. The young sailor who had announced the disappearance of Snorky was leaning over the rail. He smiled down at her.
“I have an important note for you from Mr. Rorke. I can’t bring it down because I’m on duty. Please come up and get it.”
Intrigued, Nancy replied, “Okay.”
As she quickly put on slacks and sweater, Nancy kept wondering what the note might say. Was it a further confession, a clue to the treasure, or perhaps a warning?
Bess and George had not awakened and she did not disturb them. Nancy hurried up the corridor and climbed the metal stairway to the open area above. The sailor was working at one of the big rowboats on deck near the prow. He was untying the heavy canvas tarpaulin stretched over it under the direction of a heavy-set crewman. Together they laid the canvas on deck.
“Good morning, miss,” the sailor said. “This guy’s got the note.” He walked off and disappeared.
Nancy went up to the burly crewman. “You have a note for me from Mr. Rorke?”
“It’s a message,” the man replied. “He says to tell you you’re goin’ t’ be punished for not mindin’ your own business, Miss Nancy Drew!”
In a surprise move the sailor knocked Nancy down so that she sprawled on top of the tarpaulin. Before she could get up, he had pulled the canvas around her and now tied the ropes tightly.
“Help! Help!” Nancy cried, but the sounds were too muffled for anyone to hear.
Seconds later she felt herself being lifted up and then thrown. She landed in the water and began to sink!
CHAPTER XX
The End of the Quest
NED Nickerson’s cabin was next to the one Nancy, Bess, and George occupied. He had also heard Nancy’s name spoken, and the summons for her to come up on deck. At first he had thought little of it, but upon second thought it worried him.
Leaning out his porthole, he called to Nancy but there was no response. Alarmed now, Ned threw on some clothes and dashed up to the deck above. From a distance he could see Nancy being rolled into the tarpaulin and quickly tied up. Ned dashed forward but he was too late to keep the burly seaman from hurling her overboardl “You rat!” he yelled at the man.
With a tremendous swing at the sailor’s jaw he sent him crashing to the deck in a knockout punch. The next second Ned was poised on the rail, then he dived into the water.
Nancy was not in sight. Because of the weight of the tarpaulin she had plummeted straight down. There was enough air inside it so she could breathe for a few minutes and Nancy struggled hard to free herself. But her attempts were futile. She knew now that she would die of suffocation rather than drown.
“Poor Dad!” Nancy thought. “And I promised him I’d be careful.” Then, after praying a little, she added, “I don’t want to leave Ned and Bess and George and Hannah, too—all the people I love!”
Suddenly Nancy became aware of something touching her. Within seconds the rope was untied and the tarpaulin was being unrolled. Then, as if a miracle had happened, she was free! Nancy was already holding her breath, and with an assist from Ned, she swam to the surface.
By this time Bess, George, Dave, and Burt had been awakened by the young sailor. Having thought over the episode of the note, he had begun to suspect trouble. The young people had rushed to the deck and were puzzled to find the crewman unconscious.
Just then two heads broke the surface of the water. The onlookers were aghast to see Nancy and Ned, now taking in great gulps of fresh air.
“They have on regular clothes,” Bess commented. “What happened?”
Burt leaned over the rail. “Need a hand?” he called.
“Guess we can make it,” Ned called back. “Get the captain. And put down the ladder.”
Dave dashed off. When Captain Stryver arrived, the two bedraggled swimmers were back on deck. Nancy and Ned told what had happened and pointed to the burly seaman, who was just reviving.
The captain yanked the sailor, John Todd, to his feet and demanded an explanation. He said that Rorke had told him when he reached New York he was to go to a certain place and receive a large amount of money for “putting Nancy Drew out of the picture.”
Under his breath Burt said, “And he’s too dumb to know he’d be double-crossed and never get a cent.”
Todd said the young sailor was innocent. He had been asked to summon Nancy because she knew him. He apologized profusely to Nancy and to the captain.
“Nancy,” said George, as Todd was taken away, “you’re shivering. Let’s go and get some dry clothes.”
“And a hot breakfast,” Bess added.
A half hour later everyone gathered in the captain’s dining room. In order not to alarm Trixie, Nancy had requested that no mention be made of what had happened. Conversation was all about the hunt for the treasure.
“I want to dig,” said Trixie. She reached under the table and brought out a small pail with a shovel. She kept looking into it and smiling. “I got a map,” she said.
“May I see it?” Nancy asked.
“I don’t want to show it,” Trixie replied.
“Why not?” her mother asked. “And where did you get it?”
Trixie’s lips began to quiver. On the verge of tears she answered, “From a drawer in Nancy’s cabin.”
Mrs. Chatham scolded her daughter. When the girl began to cry, Mr. Smith tried to quiet her by showing his copy of half the old map.
Nancy spoke up. “Don’t worry. Trixie, you never could have found the treasure with that half map, even if it had been matched with the good half.”
“What do you mean?” the little girl asked.
As everyone listened in amazement, Nancy explained. “When Irene and Fred Brown followed me that day and I was afraid they might steal the exact copy of Mr. Smith’s half map, I mailed it to Dad at his office. However, before I did, I made another drawing of it, but I deliberately reversed all the directions. And that’s the paper you have, Trixie.”
Everyone laughed and George said, “Leave it to Nancy to outwit the schemers!”
The Smiths were eager to start the treasure hunt. Ellen’s father felt much better and insisted upon going. Digging tools were procured and the group set off in rowboats.
When they assembled on the beach of Little Palm Island, Nancy rearranged her figures on the
half map to give the correct directions. Then work started near a large palm tree. Soon mound after mound of sandy soil had been turned up. No treasure chest was revealed.
A disheartening thought struck Nancy. Suppose the treasure had been dug up long ago and carried away!
She went off by herself, and using a compass, re-figured the directions. “What a goose I’ve been!” she scolded herself as she looked at the result. “We’ve been working at the wrong spot!”
She hurried back to tell the others and chose a different palm tree for the search. It stood on a beautiful knoll overlooking the rolling sea.
“I’m sure this is the place!” Nancy exclaimed, marking off a large rectangle on the ground.
Again the young people turned up the sandy soil and loose rocks. After fifteen minutes Ned’s spade struck a hard object.
“Probably just a rock,” he said, without much hope.
Turning up another spadeful of earth he bent to examine the object.
“This is no rock!” he shouted jubilantly. “I think we’ve found the treasure!”
The other boys rushed to help him dig. Presently the top of a rusty iron chest was uncovered. In another five minutes they were able to lift it from the hole.
“This seems too good to be true,” Ellen said, tears of happiness in her eyes.
“Nancy,” Mr. Smith spoke up, “you must have the honor of opening the lid.”
“If you don’t mind,” she answered, “I’d rather you three Smiths do it. But the chest must be pried open with a crowbar.”
Ned offered to do this and soon succeeded. As Mr. Smith raised the lid, everyone stared in stunned silence. Inside lay hundreds of gold and silver coins, jewelry and rich ornaments from all over the world. That the wealth had been the property of Ellen’s great-grandfather, Captain Tomlin, there could be no doubt, for a stained letter addressed to his descendants bore his signature.
Mrs. Smith clasped her husband’s hands in happiness, and Ellen exclaimed, “Dad! Everything’s going to be fine from now on!”
Congratulations, handshakes, and thanks were exchanged. Everyone praised Nancy, who modestly reminded them, “Without Mrs. Chatham we couldn’t have made the trip.”