“Thank Heaven!” was the involuntary ejaculation of everyone of the Lookout’s company. “To go through so much and come out with the loss of only one of the crew, who may yet be found alive and well! It is wonderful!”
Uncle Dick’s face wore an expression that no one had ever seen there before, and his voice was husky as he seized his brother’s hand, and wringing it energetically, asked what was to be done now? Mr. Gaylord and the officer advised an immediate return to Don Casper’s; and in obedience to Uncle Dick’s orders, the Lookout again filled away, and the Banner came about, and followed in her wake.
The adventures we have attempted to describe in this volume comprise all the exciting events in the history of the Club’s short sojourn in Cuba, but by no means all the interesting ones. If time would permit, we might enter into minute details concerning the grand re-union that took place in the cabin of the Lookout shortly after she and the Banner entered the bay, and anchored at the stern of the frigate. It was a happy meeting, in spite of the gloom thrown over it by the absence of Chase, and the consequent anxiety and distress of his father. Wilson was obliged to tell, over and over again, all he knew about the missing boy. He held his auditors spell-bound for half an hour, and when he finished his story, Walter began. Among the listeners was the captain of the iron-clad; and when the young commander told how narrowly he had escaped discovery and capture when the man-of-war was entering the bay, the officer patted him on the head and said that he was a brave lad and a good sailor.
Uncle Dick and his crew were highly indignant over what had happened in the cove at Lost Island. They had heard it all from the master of the revenue cutter. The old sailor and his brother, who, it will be remembered, were in the woods searching for Featherweight when the Banner began her cruise, returned home at daylight, and learning from Mrs. Gaylord where the boys had gone, they hurried to Bellville, raised a crew for the Lookout, and put to sea. Before they had gone far they found the John Basset, drifting helplessly about on the waves, her engine being disabled. That explained why she did not make her appearance at Lost Island. Uncle Dick took Mr. Chase and Mr. Craven aboard his own vessel, listened in amazement to their story, and shortly afterward met the cutter. He held a long consultation with her captain, who, after describing what had taken place in the cove, told him that the last he saw of the Banner she was following after the Stella, which had set sail for Cuba. Uncle Dick at once filled away in pursuit; but being too old to believe that a vessel carrying contraband goods would go to so large a port as Havana, ran down until land was sighted, and then held along the coast, carefully examining every bay and inlet. As the Lookout was a much swifter vessel than the Stella, he gained time enough to do all this work, and to reach Port Platte on the evening of the same day the smuggler arrived there.
Mutual explanations being ended, the entire party, accompanied by a squad from the frigate, went ashore to look for Chase. They searched high and low (the Club found time to peep into the wine cellar where he and Wilson had been confined), but could find nothing of him. At daylight the three vessels sailed in company for Port Platte, and the whole of that day and the succeeding one was spent in fruitless search. Chase had disappeared as utterly as if he had never had an existence. Being satisfied at last that he had shipped on board some vessel bound for the States, his father consented to sail with his friends for Bellville. They reached the village without any mishap, and in ample season for the Club to perfect numerous plans for their amusement during the holidays. Some interesting events happened about that time—one especially which threw our heroes into ecstacies—and what they were, shall be told in “The Sportsman’s Club among the Trappers.”
THE END.
Famous Castlemon Books.
No author of the present day has become a greater favorite with boys than “Harry Castlemon,” every book by him is sure to meet with hearty reception by young readers generally. His naturalness and vivacity leads his readers from page to page with breathless interest, and when one volume is finished the fascinated reader, like Oliver Twist, asks “for more.”