CHAPTER XXIII.—CLOUD ISLAND
Cloud Island was just a bulk of mist when the lads came opposite it. The outlines of the shore were not to be seen, for steam pouring out of the fissures in the rocks clouded everything. To the west, however, a small hut was to be seen on the narrow rim which lay between the river and the mountains. While they looked, checking the speed of the Rambler until it just held against the current, two figures moved out of the structure and motioned to the boat.
“That’s John!” Frank cried, putting his fingers to his lips and giving out a long, wavering whistle which cut the air like a knife. “That is John,” he went on—“the man I left in charge of my affairs here. I think we would better land at the little pier just above.”
But there was no pier there, only a mass of burned and twisted timbers and blackened stones! However, Frank put ashore in the row-boat, soon returning with the man who had motioned from the shore. He was a muscular young fellow with the dusky complexion of the native Indian and the regular features of the American. He was dressed in European clothing and spoke English fluently, although Frank assured his friends that he had never lived out of Peru.
It was evident that Frank and John had discussed personal affairs on the way to the deck of the Rambler, for the boy now asked:
“What happened to the pier?”
The boys gathered around to hear the reply, for the wreck which had drifted by them told of violence which had not been confined to the boat.
“Before we go into that,” John replied, “suppose you head up to the station just above—where your father used to live—and bring down a surgeon. I have two patients at my hut.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” asked Frank.
“I thought you might want to stop and talk with them,” was the reply, “and every minute is precious if their lives are to be saved.”
“Who are they?” asked Clay, unable to longer restrain his curiosity.
Frank’s eyes asked the same question, and John continued:
“You remember Lord Wilson? The Englishman who came here with a valet two years ago? Well, one of the men in need of surgical aid is Edward, the valet. He came in here a few days ago with another Englishman, in a queer combination of launch and motor boat.”
“Ahead of the Señorita?” asked Frank.
“Just behind her. This man Lewiso, who formerly worked for your father, was in charge of the Señorita, and the two men mixed at once. You see,” he added with a smile, “they were both after the gold we have so often talked about, and each believed that the other knew the exact location of it. They both prowled about Cloud island, each watching the other, until they came to blows.”
“That was to have been expected,” Frank said.
“The crew of the Señorita deserted when shooting began, and Lewiso and Edward had it out together, one day, on the pier, where the Señorita lay. Neither was much injured, but that night the steamer was blown out of water with dynamite stolen from my warehouse. I pushed the wreck of the vessel down stream not long ago.”
“We just passed it.”
“The companion of the Englishman, Edward, was killed that night, but Lewiso escaped. Last night they came together—Edward and Lewiso—on Cloud island, while searching for the gold, and this morning my men brought them to my place wounded unto death. They are there now, and the doctor’s house is in sight, and we’ll interrupt the conversation long enough to get him on board,” John added, as the motor boat headed in at a little cove on the west shore.
The doctor was soon on board—a fussy little fellow with gray hair and a beard like a goat—and the Rambler shot down stream again.
“Of course the men never found what they were looking for?” asked Frank, as the boat sped on its way.
“Certainly not, and for a very good reason!”
“Not being able to find the right cavern, I suppose?” laughed Frank.
“Oh, they found the right cavern, all right, but that helped them not a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
Frank sprang to his feet excitedly, and the others gathered around, anticipating the next sentence. There had been no gold in the cavern! Frank’s father had been mistaken! Was that what John was about to say? Had all this excitement, all these dreams of wealth, come to such a dreary ending?
“There was no gold there for them to get!” John said.
Frank sank back with a sigh.
“That is a corker!” he said. “No gold there?”
“For the reason,” continued John, with a laugh, “that I had taken it out and shipped it away!”
Clay was about to ask the speaker if he considered it a good joke to rob a fellow like that and then laugh over it, but there was so much humor in John’s eyes that he hesitated to put the impertinent, accusing and degrading question.
Frank arose wearily and walked away, but John caught him by the arm and turned him back.
“When we get up to the hut,” he said, “I’ll show you how much I got for the gold. It was sold at Para, at a small discount.”
Frank did not appear at all interested in the price of this gold—the gold he had considered his own.
“All right!” he said, dully. “Then we’ll turn back.”
“Not until you look over the island,” cried Alex. “I’ve a notion that there’s something crooked been going on here, and I want to remain here-abouts long enough to dig it out,” he continued, his eyes flashing in John’s direction. John did not appear to mind this in the least, and even Captain Joe seemed to make light of the hostile demonstration, for he sniffed a moment at John’s trousers and then, taking him into his confidence lay down at his feet!
“You must have made a good thing off Frank’s gold!” Jule broke in.
“Something like $300,000,” was the cool reply.
“That’s nice!” cried Case, moving toward the speaker.
“And the check for it all,” John went on, laughing as he talked, “is waiting for Frank! It was his mine, you know, and if he wants to pay me for my trouble, why——”
An avalanche of boys flowed over John! They dragged him about the deck, tore at his clothes, shouted his name——
“John! John! John! He’s a brick is John!”
“Here’s for a revel! Bring him along! Who? John!”
“That will answer for the present,” John managed to say. “Save the pieces! I want to see a little of the world yet!”
It took a long time for John to describe how the cavern had been opened by himself, and how he had engaged men to work the gold out during the night-time, and how it had been secretly shipped away, and how all the money it brought lay at Frank’s disposal in a bank at Para!
But the story was told at last, and then the Rambler landed the surgeon and all went up to John’s hut to see the two men who had fought each other for an empty cavern! John’s servant opened the door for them and pointed silently to two bunks standing next the wall. The figures on the bunks were still, and a white cloth was laid over each face.
The boys turned away and went back to the Rambler. And so the quest for the Cloud island gold ended, and so the secret of Cloud island was told.
The boys remained a week at Cloud island, and then, accompanied by John, started back down the Amazon. Before leaving, Frank gave to John what was left of his father’s estate, and the latter refused to accept any other reward for getting out the gold. The honest fellow had long ago been taken into the confidence of Frank’s father in the matter of the gold, and so it was, after all, no great wonder that he had found it!
His idea in not acquainting Frank with the true condition of affairs before the boy left for Chicago, was that the boy ought to go about a bit and learn the value of money before taking such wealth into his boyish hands.
Then followed more magnificent days and nights on the Amazon. The boys were now in the midst of the wet season on the upper river, and many of the camps they had made on the way up were under water. However, the Rambler behaved admirably, and Captain Joe seemed so proud of her conduct in the face of the flood that he was always found looking over the stern with an air of dignity and triumph!
And so, with Jule completely restored to health, the boys stepped out on the pier on the South Branch one sharp day in early winter. And who should be there but Captain Joe, with his ruddy face and wooden leg! The dog immediately made friends with him, of course, and, in order that names might not become mixed, was called merely “Joe” as long as the boys remained in the city.
When they set foot on the pier that first day Clay turned to Frank and seized him by the neck, in mock anger.
“Tell me!” he cried. “Tell me who put the marked newspaper on the boat that morning!”
“I did,” was the calm reply. “You see,” the boy continued, “those were my diamonds, and——”
“And you paid the reward!”
“I pledged the stones to the lawyer to get the money to pay that reward!” laughed Frank.
It was so noisy for a time, on account of what the boys were saying and doing to Frank, that nothing more was said. Then Clay:
“But the diamonds were stolen?”
“Stolen by a lad who had slept with me in a cheap lodging house on Clark street,” was the reply. “You see, I had kept the stones, even when hungry and cold, because they had been the last gift of my mother. When they were stolen I followed the track of the thief until I came to this dock, where we had often loitered together before. As it turned out, the boy had repented of his act, and was here to return the stones to me, he believing that I would come here to watch your boat, as we had done together many a night. But Lewiso—whose name was Lewis, by the way—saw him have the gems and fought him for them. He secured them and ran away, as you know, before I could interfere or find breath to follow him. Well, you saved the diamond, and the next morning I arranged for the reward to come to you. I guess you know all the rest.”
“Not yet!” broke in Captain Joe. “There is a matter of $300, you know!”
“But you gave that, Captain!”
The good-natured captain pointed to Frank.
“After he gave it to me and told me what to do with it.”
Then followed another demonstration which it is not necessary to describe! Everything had been explained save the robbery of the boat that night, and that would never be anything but a mystery.
One of the first men to call on the boys was Dr. Holcomb, who made a great claim for damages on his boat! But he was appeased when he saw how well Jule looked, and offered the boat for another river trip. Finally he called Jule aside and whispered:
“Did you tell them?”
Jule shook his head and Clay called out:
“Tell them what?”
Again the boys gathered around to hear a story told.
“The day before you left,” the doctor began, “I found a little property which belonged to Jule. You see, his parents had owned a lot out on Cottage Grove avenue, and it had increased in value. Jule, it seems, had been paying the taxes without knowing it, for the tenant of the place had paid the claims for taxes and improvements and put the rest of the rent money in bank. He did not know that Jule’s father was dead, but expected him back any day to demand an accounting. I told Jule about it that night, and kept him quite a long time doing it!”
“Can’t you dig up a fortune for Alex and Clay now?” asked Case. “I would just enjoy being the only poor one in the bunch. I’ve cut out the prophet-of-evil business, and that is enough for me for one year.”
“This property belongs to us all,” Jule cried. “At least the income from it does, and right here we’ll form the Six Rivers Motor Boat Club and get ready for a trip in the spring.”
“Where?” asked the doctor.
“The Colorado?” hinted Alex.
“The Mississippi,” said Jule.
“The St. Lawrence,” declared Case.
“The Ohio,” Clay suggested.
“Or the Columbia!” Frank mentioned.
“That’s it!” they all cried. “The Columbia! And a larger boat, and no gold caverns, and no snakes!” added Jule.
The story of the adventures of the boys at the headwaters of the Columbia will be found in the second volume of the Six-River Motor Boat Club Series, entitled: “Motor Boat Boys on the Columbia; or, the Confession of a Photograph.”
THE END.