CHAPTER XVIII. TWO SECRETS DISCOVERED
Squire Brackett sat in his office, deep in thought. To say that he wasout of temper, would be putting it mildly. Something that he was tryingto do baffled him; and, being thwarted, he was irritable and unhappy. Nowwhen Squire Brackett was unhappy, he usually succeeded in makingeverybody else with whom he came in contact likewise unhappy. Therefore,when he betook himself to his office, of an afternoon, and sat himselfdown at his desk, to attempt to solve a certain puzzle, as he had donenow for several weeks, at intervals, the members of his household keptdiscreetly aloof.
Before the squire, on the shelf of his desk, lay the paper on which hehad pasted the scraps of Mr. Carleton's letter. The first effort at asolution of the puzzle had been one more of curiosity than aught else onhis part. He had thought it would be rather a smart achievement, todiscover something which another man had attempted to destroy, though itprobably would be of no particular importance to the discoverer. But,from that condition of mind, he had progressed to a state wherein hethought he saw, hidden in the fragments of the letter, something of morethan ordinary import.
As Squire Brackett had arranged them, the words and parts of words nowlay before him thus:
lock ey must be sound mbers aboard yacht starboa still under ays third
The squire's increase of curiosity had resulted largely from hisinterpretation of the first two fragments. At a casual glance, he haddecided that the first four letters were a part of the word,"locker,"--which would be natural if the writer were referring to ayacht. But he arrived at a different and more exciting conclusion, whenit suddenly dawned upon him that the first word was really complete as itstood; that it was the word, "lock." This, because the next two lettersclearly were part of the word, "key."
"Of course," he exclaimed. "If I hadn't been stupid I'd have thought ofthat before. Aha! I have a whole sentence now, by simply supplying a fewof the missing words." He wrote as follows, picking out these words thatthe letter, as he had it before him, contained: "key -- lock -- must bestill aboard yacht."
"That's plain enough for a boy to read," said Squire Brackett. "Thesentence was, 'The key to the lock must be still aboard yacht.'"
"Hm!" he exclaimed, rubbing his forehead, reflectively. "That'sinteresting; and it's queer. Somebody knows a thing or two about thatboat--and that somebody, whoever he is, has been writing it to Carleton.Still, I don't see how that helps me. I can't make much out of it."
The letter, having yielded up this much of its secret to the squire,became immediately of greater interest to him; but, at the same time, anobject of greater annoyance and perplexity. He couldn't get the thing offhis mind. It became a sort of continual nightmare to him. Why, he asked,should any one write to Mr. Carleton about a key to a lock aboard the_Viking_?
Being somewhat heavy-witted, in spite of a certain natural shrewdness,the squire did not answer his own question readily.
On this particular afternoon, however, he advanced a step farther.
"Perhaps," he said to himself, "that word, 'sound,' does not refer totimbers at all. It might be Long Island Sound, where this yacht has beenat some time, probably. Oh, I wish I had the rest of the letter."
"I tell you what!" exclaimed the squire, "this thing is queer. That'swhat it is. Who should know anything about this yacht, and who would bewriting to Mr. Carleton about it? It couldn't be the men that had itbefore the boys got it. They were a band of thieves. What's that? Hello!Why not? This man Carleton has cleared out. He didn't buy that land ofme. He never intended to; that's what."
"I've got it!" he cried, jumping up excitedly and thumping his desk withhis fist. "Chambers! Chambers! That's the man. He's the man that set fireto the hotel. He's the man that Jack Harvey captured down in theThoroughfare. He's the man that knows about the _Viking_--and there's hisname in the letter--or a part of his name.
"Those letters, 'mbers,' don't mean 'timbers' at all. They were a part ofthe name 'Chambers.' Yes, and those letters at the end of the list,'ays,' don't mean 'stays,' either, as I thought they did. That word is'says.'
"'Chambers says' something--now what does he say? I have it:
"'Chambers says key to the lock must be still aboard yacht.'
"Wait a minute," said the squire to himself. "That word, 'starboard'comes in here somewhere. Starboard--starboard--oh, I see; 'starboardlocker.' That first word is 'locker,' just as I thought in thebeginning."
The squire wrote his translation of the letter, as he had thus farevolved it, as follows:
"Chambers says the key to the starboard locker must be still aboardyacht."
"Now let me see," reflected Squire Brackett, "that leaves only three morewords--'sound,' 'third,' and 'under.' Well, I don't know what they haveto do with it. They probably referred to something else in the letter.But what on earth can that be in the starboard locker,--that's what I'dlike to know."
Deeply agitated, he arose from his chair and strode up and down the room.He rubbed his hands together in a self-satisfied way.
"Looks like I'd get even with some of 'em yet," he exclaimed, softly."There's something aboard that yacht that's valuable--and what's more,that man Carleton came all the way down here on purpose to get it. I seeit--I see it. They had a locker where they hid valuables, and there'ssomething there yet worth getting. Oh, I wish I had the rest of thatletter!"
The squire, forming a sudden resolve, put the precious paper in a drawer,locked it therein, and hurried down to the tent on the point. By goodluck, he met Henry Burns coming away from it.
"How d'ye do, my boy?" he said, trying to smile agreeably and to concealhis excitement, at the same time.
"How do you do, Squire Brackett?" replied Henry Burns, reading easilysomething of more than ordinary significance in the squire's shrewd face."Nice day, sir."
"Yes--yes, so it is," returned the squire. "See here, I'd like to hirethat yacht of yours for a few days--possibly a week. I won't sail her, ofcourse. I'm no skipper. I'll get John Hart to run her for me."
"Sorry to disappoint you, squire," said Henry Burns, "but we can't letthe _Viking_. The season is most over, you see, and we want to have somefun with her the rest of the time. We've begun cleaning her out andwashing her insides, ready for painting. Perhaps the crew will let youhave the _Surprise_, though. I guess Harvey will be willing."
"Well, now," said the squire, "supposing I pay you ten dollars for her,just for four days. I'll take--"
"No, sorry to refuse," said Henry Burns, "but I don't see how we can doit. Besides, we've got lots of money, ourselves, you know. We've beenmackereling."
The squire continued his urging, but Henry Burns was obdurate. The_Viking_ couldn't be hired--by Squire Brackett, at least. He went home,fuming inwardly.
"If I only had the rest of that letter," he kept repeating. "I don't dareto offer them very much, on a mere chance. It might turn out like thatland I bought of Billy Cook."
The squire, having his mind thus tantalized, began to worry over themystery and even to dream of it. One night he dreamed that he had hiredthe yacht, and that he had found a bag filled with twenty dollar goldpieces in it; and, when he woke up, he was so angry to find it was only adream that he scandalized poor Mrs. Brackett with his exclamations.
Young Harry Brackett was made to feel the effects of his father's mentaldisturbance. The squire assailed him with questions about Mr. Carleton,which puzzled the son exceedingly. Finally the squire demanded,point-blank, to know what Mr. Carleton had said to him when hecommissioned him to buy the yacht.
"And you needn't deny that he did get you to try to buy it, either," heexclaimed, warmly, "because I know all about that."
Harry Brackett, taken aback, but concluding that Mr. Carleton had toldhis father about it, admitted the commission, but could not recallanything in particular that Mr. Carleton had s
aid at that time.
"Didn't he want to know something about the yacht that he was intendingto buy?" demanded the squire. "Now just wake those sleepy wits of yoursup and try to think."
Harry Brackett, much confused, endeavoured to obey.
"No, I don't remember that he did," said he, finally, "only he wanted toknow, of course, if I'd heard anything wrong about the yacht--anythingqueer about her--or something of that sort--seems to me he asked if therewas anything queer about the boat--anything ever discovered about her."
The squire concealed a thrill of satisfaction by scowling, and exclaimed:
"Well, why didn't you say so before? I might want to buy that boat,myself, sometime. I want to find out about her."
A night or two after this, Squire Brackett awoke. He had had anotherdream: that he and Mr. Carleton had stolen aboard the _Viking_, in thedead of night, and had broken into the cabin. There, after the strangeand impossible fashion of dreams, they had discovered the man, Chambers,at work, tearing up the cabin floor. Then, the dream progressed to astage wherein Mr. Carleton and Chambers were handing out bags of money tothe squire, piling his arms full of them.
By degrees, these bags grew heavier, until the squire sank under theirweight. But, to his horror, Carleton and Chambers did not cease heapingthe bags of money upon him until he was smothering under them. Theycovered his face, his nose, the top of his head. He woke up in the midstof a vain endeavour to call for help, in which he could not utter asound.
Possibly the squire's dream was explained by the fact that he foundhimself submerged beneath the bed-clothes, which he had drawn completelyover his head, almost stifling himself. His pillow, which he clutchedtightly in his arms, rested also on his left ear, like one of theimaginary bags of gold.
"Oh! oh!" he groaned, freeing himself from the weight of clothing, "thatwas a terrible nightmare. Confound that yacht! I wish it was sunk in themiddle of Samoset Bay, and I'd never set eyes on it again."
But, with this awakening, the old subject of the mystery of the _Viking_returned to torment him. He lay awake for a half-hour or more, vainlytrying to forget it and go to sleep, but finding the paper with thecryptogram forever flitting before his eyes.
Then, of a sudden, he sprang out of bed, with a yell that awakened poorMrs. Brackett in terror. Her first thought, naturally, was of burglars.
"I have it! I have it!" cried Squire Brackett, dancing about like acertain philosopher of old, "I have it--it's 'money!'"
"James Brackett!" exclaimed his wife, sitting up and glaring at himindignantly, "I believe you're going crazy over money. That's all youthink about, is money--and all you talk about is money; and now here youare dreaming about money. Aren't you ashamed of yourself, jumping out ofbed in the middle of the night and screaming 'money,' and frightening mealmost to death? You come back to bed!"
But the squire did seem to have gone actually crazy, for it was evidenthe was fully awake. He continued to prance about excitedly, exclaiming,"It's money! I've got it! I've got it!" until poor Mrs. Brackett was ather wit's end.
Ignoring alike her entreaties and her scornful remarks, he descended tohis office, drew forth the mystical paper, eyed it triumphantly for amoment, and then wrote as follows:
"Chambers says MONEY must be still aboard yacht."
"Hooray!" cried the squire. "There it is. Oh, I reckon I'm pretty deep,myself. Yes, and I see the rest of it now." The squire finished theletter thus:
"Sound under third starboard locker."
"That's right," he said. "That means there's some sort of a secretchamber in one of the starboard lockers, and that by sounding, orhammering, on the right spot, it will echo hollow, or give some sounddifferent from the other boards. Oh, I'll get that yacht, no matter whatI have to pay--and I'll get the money, too. I reckon I haven't cut myeye-teeth for nothing."
The squire could hardly close his eyes for the rest of the night. Bydaybreak he was out alongside the _Viking_.
"Look here," said Squire Brackett, as he opened the doors of the cabin,and peered in at Henry Burns and Harvey, who were at breakfast, "I wantyou boys to do me a little favour."
Harvey's face betrayed his astonishment.
"Oh, I'll make it worth your while, too," continued the squire. "I'mwilling to pay handsomely for it. You see, I've got a party of friendscoming down the bay, and I want to meet them at Mayville and give them afew days' cruising. I'll admit there's a little business in it for me,too. Now I want to do the thing up in good shape, and my boat isn't fitfor putting on style. I want the _Viking_ for just one week, and I'll payyou twenty dollars for it."
There was no immediate response. Henry Burns and Harvey looked at eachother doubtfully. The offer was almost tempting.
"Well," cried the squire, seizing the opportunity, "I'll not stand atfive dollars at a time like this. Say twenty-five dollars for a singleweek, and the money is yours."
"In advance?" asked Henry Burns.
"Yes, sir," replied Squire Brackett, "in advance--though I reckon my nameon a piece of paper is good for that amount anywhere in this county. Yes,and I'll do more. I'll sign an agreement to deliver the yacht back to youin this harbour, one week from the time of hiring it, in as goodcondition as when I get it, or pay for the difference."
Henry Burns looked at Harvey, inquiringly. Harvey nodded.
"Well," said Henry Burns, "on those conditions I think we'll let you haveher--but only for one week. You'll have to wait two days, though. We'vegot some fresh enamel on part of the woodwork, and some of the mahoganyfinish has been scraped and newly oiled, and it isn't quite dry enoughfor hard usage yet. Let's see, to-day is Wednesday. You may have her onSaturday morning, if you'll bring her back the next Saturday, any timebefore night."
"Here's the money," said Squire Brackett, promptly. "We'll consider thebargain closed, eh?"
"Yes," assented the two yachtsmen.
"Now what do you make of that?" exclaimed Harvey, as the squire rowedawkwardly ashore.
"Why, I think he has some land deal on hand," replied Henry Burns, "andhe wishes to make a grand impression on the persons he is going to meet.He calls them his friends, but he's friendly to any one that he thinks hecan make money out of. They probably are from the city, and he wishes tohave them enjoy the sights of the bay in a fine boat. There's money in itin some way for the squire, you can depend on it, or he wouldn't do it."
Henry Burns was certainly right, in part.
"Well, we will have the yacht in fairly good shape for him by Saturday,"said Harvey. "We'll bring down the fine cushions and fixings from theWarren cottage, Friday night."
The boys worked industriously through this and the two succeeding days,putting the _Viking_ in shape. The outer body of the boat had notreceived hard usage, even in their fishing, and the decks had been keptcarefully scrubbed. So, with the cleaning and painting and oiling of thecabin woodwork, and varnishing, where needed, they had got the yacht infairly good condition before the squire had applied for her. Now, withthe finishing touches, and the rubbing up of brass work, the _Viking_ wasbeginning to shine and glisten as of old.
"I am almost sorry we agreed to let the squire have her," said HenryBurns, as he and Harvey lay rolled in their blankets, the former on thestarboard, the latter on the port berth, in the midship section of theyacht, on Friday night. They had finished a hard day's work, hadextinguished the cabin lantern, and were having a quiet chat before goingoff to sleep.
"Oh, well, a week will soon pass," said Harvey, "and twenty-five dollarswill swell our bank-account and put a finishing touch to the season'sbalance. We'll have to go and figure up with Rob Dakin, pretty soon, andsee how we stand."
Rob Dakin, the storekeeper, was the boys' banker. They had depositedtheir earnings in his safe, from time to time, keeping an account withhim for groceries and rigging, and drawing out what they needed.
"Yes," responded Henry Burns, "we've got a good balance coming to us--andwe've had a good time, too."
"I've had the best time I ever had her
e," said Harvey, enthusiastically.
They were talking in this way, growing drowsy, and speaking in low tones,when Henry Burns suddenly uttered a warning "hush" to Harvey, and halfarose, resting on one elbow.
"What's the matter?" whispered Harvey.
Henry Burns laughed, softly.
"The boat is bewitched," he said. "You needn't get nervous, though. It'sjust a funny little, squeaky kind of witch-noise. I heard it the othernight when I was lying here; but, when I sat up and listened, the soundstopped."
"What sort of a noise is it?" asked Harvey, not much interested.
"Why, I'll tell you," answered Henry Burns, "I suppose the witchcraft isreally something loose about this berth, or about one of those shelves,or lockers; and that it works with the swinging of the boat in some way,and makes a squeaking noise."
"I don't see anything very mysterious about that," muttered Harvey.
"I don't, either," replied Henry Burns. "Only the queer thing about itseems to be, that when I get up and listen for it, it stops."
"Well, if any witches fly out of that locker, just wake me up to take alook at them," laughed Harvey, preparing to roll up in his blanket againfor the night.
Henry Burns, also, lay down again, and the cabin was still. In about fiveminutes more, Henry Burns reached down quietly for one of his shoes andrapped with it on the shelf, above his head.
"What's that?" demanded Harvey, roused from the early stages ofslumber--"some more of your witches? Say, you can't make me nervous, soyou better let me go to sleep."
"Jack," said Henry Burns, arising and stepping over beside his companion,"go over and try my berth awhile. Don't go to sleep, but keep still, andlisten--and tell me what you hear."
Harvey, grumbling a little at his comrade's oddity, complied, yawningferociously.
"If I see a witch I'll eat him up," he exclaimed. "I'm dead tired."
"Keep quiet," was Henry Burns's admonition. Harvey was silent, and againthey lay still for almost ten minutes. Then, of a sudden, Harvey raisedhimself on an elbow. Henry Burns was all attention. "Did you hear it?" heasked, softly.
"Sh-h-h," whispered Harvey. He lifted his head close to the door of thelocker and listened intently. Then, presently, he burst into laughter.
"You're right, Henry," he cried. "They're witches--four-legged ones--andwe'll have to clear 'em out of this cabin before they do any mischief.There's a nest of young mice in there somewhere, and it's them we hearsqueaking."
"Well, to tell the truth, I thought of that, too," said Henry Burns; "butI didn't suppose mice ever got into a boat like this in the summer-time,when it's in use."
"Well, I don't know as I ever heard of it," responded Harvey, "though Idon't see why they shouldn't. The schooners and fishermen have them inthe hold, often. But sure enough they've got in here somehow. Let's havea look."
The boys got up, lighted two of the cabin lanterns, and proceeded toinvestigate.
The berth on which Henry Burns had lain, and from which Harvey had justarisen, was in the middle of the boat. It was about six feet long by twofeet wide, and sufficiently raised from the cabin floor to admit of twogood-sized drawers occupying the space beneath. There was a locker in theside of the cabin, opening by a door close by the head, and one of thesame size at the foot, of the berth. Between these was an alcove withsome shelves.
The door of the forward locker was so disposed that, if one were lying onthe berth with his head forward, the door could not be opened without itscoming in contact with his head. Therefore, the sound, if it came fromwithin the locker, would be immediately in the ears of any one occupyingthe berth.
Holding a lantern in one hand, Henry Burns opened the door of the lockerand looked within. There was no sign of anything alive there.
"We gave this cabin a pretty good overhauling before, after thattreasure," said Harvey. "It looks just the same now as it did."
"Well, it must be underneath, then," said Henry Burns.
"Yes, and we looked there, too," said Harvey.
"Well, we'll do the job more thoroughly, this time," replied Henry Burns."Hand me one of those candles, and I'll look underneath."
So saying, he set down his lantern, and pulled out one of the drawersdirectly underneath the berth where he had lain. As he did so, he gave anexclamation of surprise.
"What is it?" asked Harvey, appearing with the candle.
"I think we're on the right track," said Henry Burns. "Look, there'swhere the witches get through."
Close to the cabin floor, where a support of the cabin roof came down, afew inches below the lower edge of the drawer, was a small hole, largeenough to admit of a mouse.
"That looks like the front door, sure enough," said Harvey.
They looked within the drawer, but there was no sign of occupancy there.
"We'll take the drawer completely out," said Henry Burns. "I don'tbelieve we did that, before. Perhaps it doesn't fill the entire space."
"All right, I'll take the other one out, too," responded Harvey. "We'lllook behind both."
He drew the drawer out and set it down on the cabin floor. Henry Burnspulled out the drawer he had been examining, and set it down on top ofthe other. Then, as he glanced at them by the light of the candle whichhe held, he said, abruptly:
"Look there, Jack. We've found it. As sure as you live, this drawer issix or seven inches shorter than the other. There's a chamber behind it.Say, you don't suppose--"
Henry Burns did not conclude his sentence. Instead, he got down on handsand knees, held the candle under the berth, and peered within. As he didso, he uttered a cry of triumph.
"Here, Jack, look inside," he said, hastily, withdrawing his head, andhanding the candle to his companion.
Harvey ducked his head, and peered within.
What he saw, in the chamber behind the space taken up by the drawer, wasa little boxlike object, fastened in some manner to the under side of thebottom of the locker.
Harvey, in turn, handed the candle over to Henry Burns.
"Here," he said. "You found it. It's your right to have the first look atwhatever is there."
Henry Burns, as near the point of actual excitement as he ever got, tookthe candle, eagerly, and looked again. The boxlike object was clearly adrawer of some sort, for, on closer scrutiny, there was revealed a tinyknob by which it might be drawn out.
"The mice are here, anyway," said Henry Burns, as he reached in and setthe candle down, preparatory to extending his arm at full length to drawout the box. "I see a hole in one corner where they can get in and out."
Then, as he seized the knob and pulled the little drawer open, theredarted out a small object that ran across his hand and disappeared in thedarkness beyond the lantern lights.
Henry Burns laughed, the next moment, for he had dodged back, bumping hishead and letting go of the knob.
"Run for your life, Jack," he cried. "Here comes the witch."
Then, before Harvey's astonished eyes, Henry Burns drew forth into thelight of the cabin lantern a little drawer; and, within it, a nestfashioned of odds and ends of paper and soft stuff; and, within the nest,a family of tiny mice, lying as snug as the proverbial bug in a rug.
The drawer was about a foot in length, six inches deep, and perhaps fourinches in height. It contained no apparent treasure--only a litter ofpaper that mice had torn and gnawed into pieces. There was no gold norjewels therein.
"Hm!" exclaimed Harvey, with an expression of chagrin overshadowing hisface, "Don't look as though there was anything there to make us rich--orto have warranted Carleton in breaking into our cabin, eh?"
"There isn't now," replied Henry Burns, calmly, but with a shade ofdisappointment in his voice. "There isn't now, but there was. The micehave got here before us, that's all."
He held up to the light a scrap of the torn paper. It was no ordinarypaper that the lantern-light revealed to the eyes of the astonishedHarvey--far from it. It was the paper that no man may make forhimself--the paper of a national bank-note--and t
here were, on thisparticular fragment, yet to be seen, a full cipher and the half ofanother. Harvey fairly gasped.
"That was a hundred-dollar bill!" he exclaimed.
"Yes, or a thousand," said Henry Burns.
Harvey groaned.
"Better drop those mice overboard, hadn't we?" said he.
Henry Burns scooped the family up in his hand and passed them over.
"I believe you said if you saw a witch you'd eat her," he remarked,slyly.
"Ugh!" ejaculated Harvey, as he dropped the mice alongside. "Say, youtake it coolly enough, don't you?"
"Well, why not?" replied Henry Burns. "It isn't our money that's gone."
"It would have been," said Harvey.
"I don't know whether it would or not," responded Henry Burns. "We'd haveto turn it over to the authorities, I suppose, to see if any one claimedit--hullo! what's this?"
Running the litter through his fingers, he turned up from the very bottoma piece of the paper that had escaped entire mutilation. He held it uptriumphantly to the light.
"We've got one prize," he cried. "It's the only one that isn'tdestroyed--but it's fifty dollars, and that's something."
"But there's only a piece of it," said Harvey.
"More than half," said Henry Burns, joyfully. "That's enough. We canredeem it."
"Oh, but isn't that awful?" groaned Harvey, gazing ruefully at the litterof paper that filled the drawer. "Just think of all that money going tomake a nest for mice."
"It's what you might call extravagance," replied Henry Burns. "I wonderhow much there was. We'll never know, though. But there was enough tomake it worth while for Mr. Carleton to come down here after it."
"Say," exclaimed Harvey, suddenly, "do you suppose that's what thesquire's after?"
Henry Burns smiled, and stood for a moment thinking, before he replied.
"Possibly," he answered. "But I don't see how he could know of it. Wherecould he have learned of it? At any rate," he added, with a twinkle inhis eyes, "I don't see as we are under any obligation to tell him aboutit. We don't have to assume that he is hiring our yacht to stealsomething out of the cabin. He has told us what he wants the boat for.We'll take him at his word."
"Oh, by the way," he added, "did we throw those lobster shells overboardafter we finished supper?"
"All but one claw that I didn't eat," replied the astonished Harvey."Why, what do you want of it?"
In reply, Henry Burns, his eyes twinkling more than ever, and with aquiet smile playing about the corners of his mouth, went and got thelobster-claw from the ice-box. Emptying out the scraps of now worthlesspaper, he deposited the lobster-claw in their place, took the candle, andonce more replaced the drawer in the secret chamber. Then he shoved inthe larger drawer.
"Whoever finds that may keep it," he said, as he rolled himself in hisblanket and blew out the lantern nearest him.