Frank Reade, Jr., left in the cabin of the sunken galleon was certainly in a position which it is hardly possible for one to adequately realize.
All hope seemed lost.
The failure of his friends to return or open the hatch had satisfied him that their fate was sealed.
His one aim now was to get out of the galleon’s cabin.
So he rained blow after blow with his ax upon the closed hatch. But it seemed obdurate.
Above one layer of planks was another.
This was discouraging.
Yet he kept on and after a long period of fatiguing work actually succeeded in cutting a hole through the hatch.
But as he did so his ax sunk into some substance which moved and fell in some quantity. It was sand.
“Mercy!” muttered the despair-stricken man, “it is true that the sand has again covered the deck up.”
45In this event his efforts to dig his way out would be futile.
He was aweary and exhausted. In fact, he had barely strength enough left to creep down the ladder.
A strange drowsiness came over him. He could not resist it.
He crept back to the captain’s cabin and sank down upon a couch. Almost instantly he was asleep.
How long he slept he never knew.
When he awoke he started up with a queer sense of his surroundings. In a few moments, however, memory supplied the blank.
Then he looked about him in a hopeless way.
He wondered if rescue had yet come, and arose to open the door into the main cabin.
As he did so he was startled at an unexpected sight.
The hatch was open and a man’s body was just sliding down through it.
“Saved!” gasped the imprisoned man with a wild thrill. Then he ceased to speak.
He stood like one overcome with horror.
“On my word,” he finally managed to mutter, “fate has played it into Parker’s hands after all.”
For it required no second glance for him to see that the new-comer was one of the Aurelian’s crew.
The peculiar fit of his diving suit and the life lines were evidence of this.
For a moment Frank knew not what to do.
Should he face the new-comers and give them battle? He could hardly hope to successfully meet such odds.
What should he do?
In lieu of a better move he stepped behind the captain’s big desk. Through an orifice in the scrolled frame he could see and not be seen.
Down into the main cabin came four of the Aurelian’s men.
They were held at bay for some moments by the ghostly crew of the Veneta. But the love of gold overcame all their scruples finally and they came across to the door of the captain’s room.
They stepped inside, and as Frank had done before them, carefully examined everything.
Fortunately Frank had closed the door to the treasure vault; they did not find this.
46But they came up to the captain’s desk and proceeded to ransack it. Frank watched them intently.
What should he do? In the very indecision of the moment the divers from the Aurelian moved away.
They passed from the captain’s cabin into the forward cabin; for a moment Frank hesitated.
It would have been an easy matter for him to have reached out and cut the life lines of his foes.
But he shrank from such an act of murder with repugnance.
His one purpose was to reach the gangway and get out of the hold of the vessel as soon as possible.
It seemed to him that his best move was to regain the deck of the submarine boat and rejoin his friends as soon as possible.
So, when the divers had passed from the captain’s cabin into the main cabin, he slipped out from his concealment and started for the gangway.
Fatal move!
One of the Aurelian’s men turned just in time to see him. Instantly the fellow raised his ax and hurled it at Frank.
It was at close range, and the blunt head of it struck the young inventor’s helmet.
The shock was sufficient to instantly deprive him of his senses.
He fell like a log.
In a moment his captors were upon him. One of them fiercely raised his ax to brain the defenseless man.
But another caught his arm, and thrusting his helmet against his, shouted:
“Avast there, Parker! Don’t kill him yet!”
“Why not, Warren? Let go of my arm! There is no reason why I should spare his life!”
“Yes, there is!”
“What is it?”
“It is likely that he can give us information in regard to the galleon’s gold. At any rate do not kill him yet, messmate.”
Captain Warren’s admonition had its effect upon Gilbert Parker. The would-be murderer lowered his ax.
“All right, Warren,” he said; “perhaps you’re right after all.”
Frank’s body was lifted up and he was placed upon a rotting 47couch near. He was already regaining his consciousness.
But at this moment Warren gave a start. He placed his helmet to Parker’s and shouted:
“A danger signal from above!”
“What is it?”
“Wait until I can learn.”
Warren was enabled to speak through his tube with those on the Aurelian’s deck.
Presently he turned to Parker and said:
“A hurricane is coming up. Mate Clark has already got the anchor under way, and has recalled our boat.”
“Then we have got to give up the search for now?”
“Yes.”
“But how can we escape the hurricane?”
“Make for Miller’s Cay, which is within sight of the ship’s masthead. We can then return and reclaim the galleon’s gold.”
The diving lines did not proceed from the Aurelian’s deck, but from a small launch which was moored at some little distance from the ship.
So when the crew of the Dolphin saw the Aurelian weigh anchor the divers were not aboard her, nor did they get aboard until some while later.
A consultation was held as to what it was best to do with their captive.
“Take off his weights and take him aboard with us,” cried Parker.
“No!” objected Warren.
“I have a better plan.”
“Ah, what is it?”
“Leave him here. Batten down the hatches and let him stay until we return. Bind him so that he cannot move!”
“Capital!” cried Parker. “We can decide what else to do with him when we return!”
“Exactly.”
This move decided upon, no time was lost in executing it.
Frank was quickly bound hand and foot. Then he was left lying upon his back in the main cabin, with the floating corpses all about him.
His captors disappeared up the stairway and he was left alone.
48He heard them batten down the hatch and cover it over with sand. Then he groaned:
“Oh, my soul! I am truly lost. The end of this can only be death.”
The sharp cry uttered by Hartley at the close of a preceding chapter while he and Pomp were sailing blindly about in the deep sea with the Dolphin was well warranted.
Afar in the distance the captain saw a faint star of light.
It was not in the searchlight’s path, and consequently easily seen. Pomp also saw it.
“What is that?”
“Massy Lordy!” gasped Pomp. “Wha’ am it but de helmet lamp ob some one ob our men!”
“It must be!” cried Hartley hopefully, “it can be nothing else.”
“Yo’ am right!”
“Turn the searchlight on to it!”
A sharp cry of joy burst from the lips of each. The distant figure of a man was seen.
“Hurrah!” cried Hartley; “by the North Star if that isn’t one of our men. We shall save him!”
“Golly! dat am good luck!” cried Pomp joyfully.
It was the turning of the searchlight full upon them that had caused Barney and Clifford such a thrill of surprise as was depicted at the close of a preceding chapter.
When the remote chance of a reunion was fully considered this could be deemed nothing short of miraculous.
The submarine voyagers certainly had good reason to congratulate themselves.
The submarine boat now bore down upon the two lost voyagers.
“Thank God, Barney, we are saved!” cried Clifford, joyfully; “fate is with us!”
“Begorra, we’ll be on deck yet, be the sowl av Pat Murphy!” cried Barney. “Shure, it’s a bit av luck fer us!”
Nearer drew the submarine boat. In a short while it loomed up near at hand.
Then the two lost men clambered aboard.
They were quickly in the cabin, and were fairly embraced by Pomp and Hartley.
Mutual congratulations followed, and then all was fully explained. After both stories were told, Barney cried:
49“Begorra, phwat do yez think has happened to Frank Reade, Jr.?”
“Golly, I done fink yo’ ought to know de mos’ about dat!” cried Pomp.
“Be me sowl, we left him in the cabin av the sunken ship!”
All looked at each other.
“Then he must be there yet!” said Clifford.
“Of course,” agreed Hartley. “God grant no harm has come to him!”
“I cannot see why it should,” said Clifford. “At least our best move is to go right back there and find him. There is no doubt but that we shall find him all right, unless——”
The same thought crossed the minds of all in that moment. They remembered the Aurelian’s men and the opportunity they had.
If they had come upon Frank and made him a prisoner, there was no telling what the villain Parker might do with him.
“Golly!” cried Pomp, “if dey hab done Marse Frank any harm dey bettah say dere prayers, fo’ dey will pay fo’ it as suah as I is a bo’n niggah.”
“That is right, Pomp,” declared Clifford. “We are all with you to a man. It shall be so. But we will continue to hope that he is all right.”
“Yas, sah!”
At once preparations were made for resuming the search for the sunken galleon.
It was not so very difficult to locate her.
Bearings were obtained and then the Dolphin sailed down for the spot. As she drew nearer the reef nothing was seen of the Aurelian’s divers.
But traces of their visit were discovered.
In the sand there were spades and other tools left by them. This would seem to be evidence that they meant to return.
“On me worrud as a gintleman,” cried Barney, “I belave they’ve done harrum to Misther Frank.”
“Let us hope we will find him in the galleon’s cabin,” said Clifford. “Anchor the boat, boys.”
The Dolphin was quickly set down and anchored. Then lots were drawn to see who were to be the favored ones to visit the galleon.
50It fell to Hartley and Pomp. This seemed just enough, as they had previously remained aboard the Dolphin.
“All right,” cried Clifford. “I find no fault. Only bring Frank back with you.”
“Golly! we done do dat if we can, yo’ bet,” cried the darky.
In a few moments they had donned their diving suits and left the Dolphin. They crossed the intervening distance to the deck of the galleon.
The sand had been excavated, and the hatch was open.
One moment the two explorers paused at the head of the cabin stairs.
Then Hartley said:
“Follow me, Pomp!”
“A’right, sah!”
Down the stairs they went. The sight which they met appalled them.
The floating corpses was more than Pomp could stand.
If there was one thing the darky had a horror of it was a corpse.
“Massy Lordy!” he groaned; “de debbil am down dere fo’ shuah! He done git dis chile!”
“Nonsense!” cried Hartley, impatiently. “Come along, you black rascal!”
But no amount of persuasion could induce Pomp to enter the dead men’s cabin.
Hartley gave up the task.
“Well,” he said, “I must go alone. Keep guard at the hatchway, then.”
“I do dat,” agreed Pomp.
Down into the cabin Hartley went. He pushed the floating bodies aside.
He passed from one part of the ship to another. There were marks of a former visit plain enough.
Someone had entered before him.
But the object of his quest—Frank Reade, Jr.—could not be found.
There was no trace of him to be found anywhere.
It was very mysterious.
To the reader this will seem strange, as we left him securely bound and the hatches closed by the departing divers of the Aurelian.
Frank Reade, Jr., left bound hand and foot upon the floor of the main cabin of the Donna Veneta, was in by no means a happy frame of mind.
He was always clear grit and never given to despair.
Yet at that moment his case looked black and hopeless enough.
He lay for some while after the departure of his captors without making a move of any kind.
The other occupants of the cabin were respectful enough. Occasionally one of the dead buccaneers would lazily change his position, or, catching a current, float across the cabin.
At such times the young inventor could not avoid a chill of horror, so ghostly and supernatural did the buccaneers look.
Some time elapsed.
It seemed an age to Frank.
He speculated upon his chances in a methodical sort of way and gave himself up to somewhat morbid reflection.
After all, his worst fate could only be death. It must come to him some time. Drowning was, after all, not the worst form.
Again the suicidal mania threatened him. Especially was this the case when he reckoned the hopelessness of his position.
After a time, however, reaction was bound to set in.
Life never seemed to have a more rosy hue. It would seem a transition into paradise to reach the upper world.
With this came a desperate sort of hope.
Why not make a supreme effort?
He could do no worse than fail. Once his mind was made up there was no faltering.
He began work on his bonds. He writhed and twisted for some while. The water had swollen the ropes, but it had also weakened the strands.
He rolled over and over until he reached the door of the captain’s cabin. Here his gaze fell upon an object which gave him a thrill.
It was an ax.
52It had been dropped there by one of the divers. At once Frank saw his opportunity.
He rolled over to it in such a manner as to press his bonds against its keen edge.
Again and again he pressed the cords against the keen blade; one by one the strands snapped.
Finally the last one was cut; Frank experienced a thrill.
The rest was easy.
He had the use of his hands now, and with the blade of the ax he cut the other bonds.
He scrambled to his feet a free man; for a moment he was undecided how to act.
His impulse was to get out of the cabin of the galleon; but how could this be done?
The hatch had been battened down by the Aurelian’s divers when they went away. Could he hope to break it open? He could at least try.
He ascended the stairs and dealt the hatch a blow. Joy! it yielded, and with a great effort he forced it open.
He pushed away the sand and emerged at last from the prison he had occupied so long.
He examined his generator.
There were chemicals enough in it to last full forty-eight hours longer.
“Perhaps by that time they will return for me,” he reflected. “At least I will cling to hope.”
He looked about him.
There was no sign of the submarine boat or of the Aurelian’s men in the vicinity. He was in a quandary as to what to do.
While in this state of doubt he wandered away from the spot for some ways.
Again a strange drowsiness came upon him. He could not help but yield to it.
He waited for a time, fighting off the sensation. Then selecting a secluded spot under the reef, he sank down.
In a few moments he was sound asleep. The water surged about his prostrate form, little fishes came and peered in at the windows of his helmet.
But nothing of this kind woke him. How long he slept he knew not.
But when he woke up all was a glare of light about him. He was some while collecting his scattered senses.
53Then he arose and looked about him. His whole being thrilled.
“Saved!” he gasped.
It was no dream. Not fifty yards distant was the submarine boat, Dolphin.
Frank at once started for it. He reached its side and clambered over the rail.
He entered the vestibule and exhausted it of water. Then he removed his helmet and stepped into the cabin.
The effect was startling.
Clifford sat by a table looking over some maps. Barney was engaged in the pilot-house.
Clifford started up with a gasping cry:
“Heaven preserve us!” he shouted, “it is Frank Reade, Jr.”
Frank was wildly embraced by both.
“Be the sowl av Pat Murphy s cow, I’m happy onct more,” cried Barney, turning somersaults across the cabin.
“But—how on earth did you get here, Frank!” cried Clifford, “we had given you up.”
“I have had quite an experience,” said Frank, with a smile, “but where are the others?”
“They are in the cabin of the galleon.”
“But—what has become of the Aurelian?”
“Driven away by a gale. The coast is clear. Before she can return we can recover the Donna Veneta’s treasure and be off.”
“You are right.”
Then Frank told his story.
Clifford was more than delighted when he learned of the amount of the galleon’s treasure.
“We will cheat old Parker out of it after all!” he cried wildly. “That is to pay the old scamp for his rascality.”
“You are right,” said Frank, and began to put on his helmet.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going down to join Hartley and Pomp, and help them get the chests of gold out.”
“Good! What assistance can we be?”
“Keep watch for us and manipulate the searchlight to our advantage.”
“I will do that!”
54Frank now left the Dolphin. He slid over the rail and started for the galleon’s hatch.
Reaching it, he began to descend, but before he reached the bottom of the staircase a form slid forward and embraced him.
“Massy Lordy, if it ain’ Marse Frank. Whereber you cum from, sah?”
It was Pomp.
It is useless to dwell upon that reunion. It was a happy meeting.
It did not take long for them to exchange experiences. Then Hartley said:
“So the Aurelian was driven away by the hurricane, eh? Well, she will return, you may be sure. Old Gilbert Parker is a genuine bulldog.”
“Let him return,” said Frank. “We will deal with him next time as he deserves. It is true that he would have murdered the whole of us.”
“Golly, dat am right!” cried Pomp. “I done fink we bettah get dat gold abo’d de Dolphin an’ start fo’ home.”
“That is just what we will do,” agreed Frank.
So they went to work at once hoisting the chests of gold out of the Donna Veneta’s hold.
In a short while they were all piled up on the sands outside.
Then they were easily transported aboard the Dolphin. The galleon’s hatch was then closed, and it was left with its ghastly occupants to remain forever buried at the bottom of the Honduras Gulf.
There seemed no reason now for lingering in the vicinity.
But Frank had some curiosity to know what was the fate of the Aurelian, so he sent the Dolphin away toward the Miller’s Cay in quest of her.
The hurricane had passed, yet Frank did not deem it advisable to go to the surface. So the Dolphin pursued her way under water.
When at a point which Hartley declared was not two miles from the Cay, it was decided to go to the surface.
Up went the Dolphin; then as she rose above the waves every eye scanned the watery waste for a sail.
No sail was in sight, but not half a mile to windward a wreck drifted.
“Mercy on us!” cried Frank. “Can it be the Aurelian?”
55The submarine boat ran nearer to the wreck. Then upon the stern was read the name “Aurelian.”
She was a shattered, water-logged hulk.
Not a sign of her crew was visible; she was hailed repeatedly, but no answer came back. Even as the voyagers were gazing at her she took a sudden plunge and went down.
After the last ripples had died away upon the spot where she disappeared, Frank turned the Dolphin’s head homeward.
Nothing was ever seen again of Gilbert Parker, of Captain Warren, or any of the Aurelian’s crew. It was safe to say that all had met a deserving fate in the waters of the Gulf of Honduras.
Homeward bound was the Dolphin with her Spanish gold.
Readestown was safely reached at last. Then followed a division of the treasure. It made all rich enough.
56Clifford and Hartley returned to their homes happy men. Frank Reade, Jr., went back to his shops and his plans.
Barney and Pomp resumed their duties as of yore, waiting for the moment when Frank should be impelled to go off on another cruise to some wonderful part of the world. Until such time we will bid the reader a kind adieu.
THE END.