Here the pathetic record ended abruptly and of the fate of the unfortunate captain the boys had of course no inkling. They, however, took the log-book with them for delivery in the future to the vessel's owners, and ten minutes later were back on board the Golden Eagle.
"It feels good to be off that 'horror ship' as her captain called her," exclaimed Frank, as he started up the engine.
"I should say so," was Harry's reply, in a sobered tone, "and I suppose scores of other ships have met the same fate."
"Undoubtedly," said Ben, "every year vessels sail from the United States and foreign ports that are never heard of again. No accounts of storms are received during their voyages, yet they never reach port; undoubtedly many of them wind up in the graveyard of the Sargasso."
"I'm glad we have a good stout air-ship to carry us," exclaimed Frank, as the Golden Eagle soared into the air and soon left the derelict far behind.
CHAPTER XX.
THE GOLDEN GALLEON.
A sharp hail from Harry, who had the glasses, aroused Frank from a reverie into which he had fallen as the Golden Eagle skimmed along. It was some time since she had left the ill-fated Durham Castle.
"Look, Frank,—here, take the glasses," the younger boy cried excitedly,—"there's a queer-looking ship dead ahead of us—can she be the Buena Ventura?"
Frank surrendered the wheel to Harry and gave the object a prolonged scrutiny. Then he handed the glasses to Ben with a quiet: