Before they reached the water’s edge, it was easy to see that something very unusual had happened. The river was still heaving and tossing above the place of the explosion. The water was thick and dark with mud for some distance from the shore. Fresh mud was scattered over everything,—the leaves and trunks of trees, the grass, the ground. Pieces of timber, some half in and half out of the water, and some thrown high up on shore, lay scattered about, but nothing was floating on the surface of the river. All the woodwork of that vessel had become water-logged long before, and such of it as had fallen into the water had sunk again to the bottom.
With anxious eyes and hurried steps, Chap and Helen went up and down the beach, looking here and there and everywhere, but they found no iron boxes, nor did they see a single piece of gold or silver.
Mr. Berkeley and Phil, with Phœnix Poole, were sitting on the porch at Hyson Hall, when they heard a great explosion down the river. There was no flash or smoke, but they saw black objects flying into the air.
They sprang to their feet, and Phœnix exclaimed,—
“I’ll bet a thousand dollars that is Chap. He’s blown up the ship.”
Without another word all three started off at full speed for the river-bank. When they reached the spot, they found Chap and Helen still searching among the fallen timbers and clots of mud.
When the story had been told, and Chap had explained everything to the astonished Mr. Berkeley, Phil exclaimed,—
“And haven’t you found any money?”
“Not a cent,” said Chap, ruefully. “I believe the crew must have been paid off before they left the ship.”
Mr. Berkeley appeared much excited by what had occurred.