“‘Well,’ I says, ‘as I told ye before, that’s for you to decide. But if you’re agoin’ to trust me, get along with your trustin’, for I reckon I’ve had about enough of this ’ere place; I don’t like the looks of the folks I sees around me, not a little bit, and I’m growin’ sorter keen to get out of it.’
“‘All right,’ he says, ‘let’s git.’ So we got, and made our way to Central Park, where we found a seat in a quiet, secluded spot, and sat ourselves down. And there, a’ter sayin’ as he’d got a secret that he must share with somebody if he was to get any good out of it, and that I was the only reely honest feller he knowed, Abe up and told me how, a’ter he’d built a bit of a raft out of some of the wreckage of the ship, so’s he could go off fishin’ in her, he one day happened to hit upon a big bed of pearl-oysters, thousan’s—millions of ’em! He sorter guessed what they was when he first set eyes on ’em, as he looked down through the clear green water, and tried to get down to ’em by divin’. But that wa’n’t no good; the water was too deep—a good five fathom he said there was over ’em—and then there was sharks about too. So he unlaid a bit o’ rope from the wreckage, knocked some nails out o’ some o’ the timber that had druv ashore, and fixed up a sorter small grapple, with which he went gropin’ out on this here oyster bed. But the thing wasn’t of much account, accordin’ to what Abe himself said. First he’d got to git it just so over a oyster afore it’d take holt; and then, when he’d hooked one, as often as not the blamed thing’d let go agin afore he got the oyster up out o’ water: consequently it come to this, that with all his gropin’ he only managed to land four oysters altogether. But out of them four two had pearls in ’em, one bein’ as big as a small marble, while the others was little ’uns—three of ’em—’bout the size of cherry stones.
“Well, he took care of them there pearls, and managed to bring ’em home with him. And then, ’stead of takin’ of ’em to a respectable jeweller, he must needs try to trade ’em off to a Chinaman! Of course you can guess what happened. The Chink purtended that he was game to buy, took Abe to his house—leastways the Chink said it was his—doped Abe, stole the pearls, and vamoosed!
“Then, a few days a’terwards, along comes I; and when Abe reckernised me he made up his mind in a minute what he’d do. First of all he offered to sell me the secret of the whereabouts of the oyster bed for fifty thousand dollars! Only fifty thousand, mind yer, and nothin’ but his bare word for it that there was so much as a single oyster in the place! I got up to go away and leave him; and then he asked me if I was game to go shares with him—he to give me the secret, I to go out to the Pacific and fish up the pearls, and the two of us to divide equally when I got back home again. Well, that was somethin’ more like a business proposition, and after a lot o’ talk I agreed; and he give me the latitood and longitood of the place right there, afore I left him, I givin’ him a hundred dollars on account, to carry him along a bit until he could get a job. Then I went back home to Baltimore and began to figure upon the best way to work the scheme. I wa’n’t rich enough to make the trip purely as a speculation, so at last I hit upon the sandalwood idea, which I reckon’ll pay the expenses of the v’yage and return me a profit, even if I don’t find nary a pearl, although I’ve a very good notion that they’re where Abe said they was. The next thing I did was to get a few p’ints upon the ins-and-outs of sandalwood tradin’; and when I’d done that I started out to get my stock of notions, overhaul the schooner and make her ready for the v’yage, and look about for a crew of men that I could be sure wouldn’t play no tricks after we’d got hold of the pearls.
“We sailed from Baltimore the day a’ter Christmas, and, as we was castin’ off, this here letter that I told ye about was handed aboard. And when I come to open it, what d’ye think was the news in it? Reckon you’ll never guess. I’ve got a cousin ’way over in Nantucket—he’s pretty well-to-do—and findin’ myself runnin’ a bit short o’ money when it come to fittin’ out the schooner, I went over to him, told him all about Abe and the pearls, and asked him to lend me a thousand dollars to leave with my old Marthy, to keep her goin’ while I was away. He knows me, and let me have the dollars straight away. Well, this here letter was from him; and what it said was that he was writin’ in a hurry to tell me that he’d just heard, quite by accident, that Abe was dead—died in hospital in New York, havin’ been run over and fatally injured by an express wagon two days a’ter I’d left him. And—this is where the trouble comes in—afore he died he sent post-haste for his brother-in-law, Abner Slocum, to go to him to oncet, as he had somethin’ most terrible partic’lar to tell him. Abner went; and although my cousin don’t know what Abe told him, he guesses it had somethin’ to do with the pearls, because when Abner got back after buryin’ Abe he went to work in a most tremenjous hurry to get his schooner, the Kingfisher, ready for sea, observin’ the greatest secrecy about it, and refusin’ to say what the hurry was, or where he was boun’ to. But he was layin’ in such a big stock of provisions and water that people got talkin’ about it; and that was how my cousin got to hear what was goin’ on. But he didn’t get to hear of it until just at the very last, which was on the day that the Kingfisher went to sea, which was two days before Christmas! So, you see, this Abner Slocum was in such a tarnation hurry to git away that he wouldn’t even wait to spend Christmas with his wife and kiddies. Now, what d’ye make of that yarn?”
“Well,” said Cunningham, “I am bound to admit, Captain, that it looks very much as though your friend Abe, finding himself upon his deathbed, had sent for his brother-in-law and divulged to him the secret of the oyster bed. Probably when he found himself dying, and realised that he could derive no personal benefit from his discovery, he wished that the wealth should go to his own family.”
“That’s how I figure it out,” agreed the skipper. “But I reckon that my claim’s just as good as Abner’s, Abe havin’ entered into a business agreement with me. Besides, it isn’t as though Abner’d make good use of the money when he’d got it. I know Abner Slocum through and through, and I tell you, gents, that he’s out-and-out the very worst character in all Nantucket—a real, downright hard case, and—well, everything that’s bad; and if he happens to get any o’ them pearls he’ll just drink hisself to death in three months, and most likely kill his wife into the bargain.”
“Then in that case,” said I, “it seems to me that it will be a great deal better that he should not have any of them.”
“Well, that’s just my view of it too,” agreed the skipper. “But I guess he’s goin’ to do his level best to get hold of ’em,” he continued. “I reckon that Abe must ha’ told him that he’d parted with his secret to me, and that I was fittin’ out to go in search of them there oysters, and that’s the reason why he was so all-fired anxious to get to sea before me. And as a matter o’ fact he did it; he sailed three clear days ahead of me, and must ha’ been just about off Cape Henry when we cleared it. So it’s a race between the two schooners which’ll get there fust, and, barrin’ accidents, I reckon it’s goin’ to be a neck-and-neck one, for the Kingfisher’s the smartest schooner sailin’ out o’ Nantucket; and although Abner Slocum’s such a downright ‘bad man’ I’ll say this for him—there ain’t a better seaman sailin’ under ‘Old Glory’ than what he is.
“Now, gents, this here is my idee. I’m agoin’ to carry on, night and day, to get to that there spot in the Pacific where them pearls be; and when I gets there I’m goin’ to scrape up as many oysters as ever I can lay hands on. And when I’ve got ’em, and have realised upon ’em, I shall look upon half of the proceeds as belongin’ to Abe, or—he bein’ dead—his heirs. But I mean to take partic’ler care that, let the heirs be who they may, that skunk Abner don’t touch a penny of the money. If it turns out that Abner’s children is the heirs, then I’m goin’ to app’int trustees to look a’ter the money for ’em until a’ter Abner’s dead, and then they can have it.”