Dave Porter in the South Seas: or, The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel

CHAPTER XXII

ABOUT SOME MISSING MEN

The hotel proved to be a one-story building of Spanish architecture, with numerous small windows and a rather low door. It was presided over by a round-faced Englishman, who stared at Billy Dill curiously when the old tar presented himself.

"Do you remember me, Mr. Chadsey?" asked the sailor.

"I do," was the answer. "You were here some years ago. But I cannot recall your name."

"Billy Dill."

"Oh, yes, yes; you were with Mr. Porter and Mr. Lemington," returned the hotel-keeper.

"That's it. I am looking for Mr. Porter now."

"Sorry, but he isn't here."

"Isn't here?" cried Dave, and his heart sank. "Isn't he in town at all?"

"No, he left the island a couple of months ago."

"And where did he go to?"

"I don't know. He said something about going to Sobago Island and something about going to Australia, but where he really did go to, I have not learned."

"This young man is very much interested in meeting Mr. Porter," explained Billy Dill. "His name is Porter, too, and I reckon they are related. Have you any idea where we can find out where Dunston Porter went?"

"Might find out at the shipping offices."

"Why, of course!" exclaimed Dave. "Let us go to the different offices at once."

Billy Dill was willing, and without loss of time led the way to the street upon which the majority of the shipping of Cavasa Island was booked. The offices were mostly small and rather dirty, and around them hung sailors and other men, of various nationalities, and some of them far from prepossessing in their general appearance.

They visited two offices without success, and then came to a place located on a corner, with doors on both streets.

"Hello!" cried Roger. "There is Mr. Van Blott just ahead of us! Is this the shipping firm with which Mr. Lawrence does business?"

"I don't think it is," answered Billy Dill.

"Then what is he doing here?"

"Must have a little business of his own," said Dave. "But I don't care. Come along." Just then he was thinking only of his personal affairs.

They entered the office, which reeked of tobacco smoke and the smell of rum. In the rear was another office, and they were just in time to see the supercargo go into this, shutting a partition door behind him.

Looking around, Dave saw a clerk at a corner desk looking over some papers with an elderly German.

"I will be at liberty in a few minutes," said the clerk, in broken English. "Please to take seats," and he pointed to a couple of low benches set against the wall and the partition.

Billy Dill sat down on the bench along the wall and Dave and Roger upon that next to the partition, which was not over seven feet in height. Save for the rattling of the papers at the corner desk the office was very quiet, and the boys readily heard the talk going on behind the partition.

"So you really have some goots on board?" came in a somewhat German voice. "I vos afraid you vould not bring any."

"Didn't I say I'd bring them, Baumann?" returned Jasper Van Blott. "I've got them, and the only question is, how am I to get them here, and when are you going to pay me?"

"I pay so soon as de goots is here," said the German shipping agent. "I not pay a dollar before."

"But you will send your men down to the dock?"

"Oh, yes, I do dot. Vot dime you vonts dem, hey?"

"To-morrow morning at eight o'clock, sharp. Tell them to watch me, and when I wave my handkerchief they can come forward and get the goods."

"How many poxes vos dere?"

"Sixteen, all told. You want to be careful and caution your men. I don't want Captain Marshall to learn what I am – "

The boys heard no more, for at this juncture the clerk came forward, having finished his work at the corner desk.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, blandly.

"I am looking for a man who is supposed to have left Cavasa Island by steamer, or sailboat, about two months ago," said Dave. "His name is Dunston Porter. Can you tell me if he shipped from here?"

The clerk looked over a book he drew from a desk.

"I see nothing of the name," he said, after a pause.

"You would have the name, if he had taken passage from here?" questioned Roger.

The clerk nodded. Then, when he found that he could do nothing more for them, he dropped into an easy chair, lit a black-looking cigar and took up a newspaper.

"There is one more shipping office," said Billy Dill, as he led the way to the street. "We'll go there."

"Dave, did you hear that talk in the back room?" questioned the senator's son, as they were hurrying down the street.

"I did."

"What do you think of it?"

"I think the supercargo is up to some game, and we must tell Phil and Captain Marshall."

"That's just my idea, too, Dave. Let me see, the name of the firm was Baumann & Feltmuller, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

They were soon at the last of the shipping offices. Here the clerk could scarcely talk English, and they had to call in the services of a gentleman who chanced to be present and who could speak the native tongue. A booking list was consulted, and it was announced that Dunston Porter had taken passage for Nanpi, on Sobago Island, just six weeks before.

"Six weeks!" cried Dave. "I hope he is there still. Now, how can I communicate with him, Roger?"

"You can send him a letter," answered Roger. "But you must remember that the Stormy Petrel is going to Nanpi as soon as her cargo for this town is unloaded."

From the shipping clerk they learned that Dunston Porter had gone to Sobago alone – that is, without his partner, Mr. Lemington. A further searching into the shipping lists revealed the fact that the partner had sailed for Australia seven weeks past.

"I reckon they dissolved partnership," observed Billy Dill, "an' one went his way, an' tudder the other way. An' I likewise guess they didn't git thet treasure."

There was now nothing to do but to return to the bark, and this they did without delay. The boys found that Captain Marshall had gone ashore on business, and so called Phil aside and related to him what had been heard in the office of Baumann & Feltmuller.

"You are right – there is something in the wind," said the shipowner's son. "I wish the captain was here, so I could consult with him."

"He'll be back soon, won't he?" questioned Roger.

"He said he might not be back until late this evening."

Phil was interested in what Dave had to tell about Dunston Porter, and said he would urge the captain of the Stormy Petrel to set sail for Nanpi at the earliest possible moment.

It was not until ten o'clock that Jasper Van Blott came back to the bark. He immediately walked up to the first mate and the pair engaged in conversation for some time. Then the supercargo went to bed, and Roger and Dave did the same. Phil sat up, reading and awaiting the captain's return.

It was almost seven o'clock when the country boy sprang up and awakened the senator's son. Both hurried into their clothes and then into the cabin, where they met Phil, whose face was full of worry.

"What's the matter?" asked both.

"Captain Marshall hasn't come back yet."

"Hasn't come back?" ejaculated Dave. "Do you mean to say he stayed away all night?"

"Exactly; and I don't know what to make of it."

"Did he say he might remain away?" came from Roger.

"No."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know, and neither does Mr. Shepley."

"What will you do about – " began Dave, and cut himself short, as Jasper Van Blott came into the cabin.

"Mr. Van Blott, do you know anything about the captain?" questioned Phil.

"I do not," was the short reply.

"It is queer that he should stay away all night."

"Oh, captains like to have good times occasionally," continued the supercargo, with a sickly grin.

"If you mean by that, that Captain Marshall went off to have a good time, as you put it, I do not think so," returned Phil, coldly. "He is not that sort."

"Perhaps you know him better than I do," flared up the supercargo.

"I know that he is a man who sticks to his duty, Mr. Van Blott. Something has gone wrong, or he would be back."

"As you please." The supercargo paused. "Well, it doesn't matter much," he continued. "I know what to do, and I am going ahead without waiting for him."

"You mean about unloading?"

"Yes."

"Would it not be better to wait until Captain Marshall returns?"

"No, it would only be a waste of time."

No more was said just then, and a few minutes later breakfast was announced. As soon as it was over, Phil called his chums aside.

"I wish you'd do me a favor," he whispered. "Go ashore and try to hunt up the captain. He must be around somewhere. I will try to hold the supercargo back as much as I can."

Dave and the senator's son were willing, and in less than ten minutes were on the dock and moving for the streets beyond.

"Where are those boys going?" asked Jasper Van Blott, coming up to Phil.

"They are going to look for Captain Marshall."

"Humph!" muttered the supercargo, and said no more.

"I think we had better wait until the captain returns," went on Phil.

"I am not going to wait," snapped Van Blott. "I am going to get that cargo ashore as quickly as it can be done."

And fifteen minutes later the hatches were opened and the work of getting out the boxes, barrels, and casks began.

CHAPTER XXIII

IN WHICH THE SUPERCARGO IS CORNERED

From one street corner Dave and Roger hurried to another, looking in every direction for some sign of Captain Marshall. This hunt they kept up for the best part of half an hour, but without success.

"He is certainly nowhere in this vicinity," said the senator's son. "I wonder where he can be keeping himself."

They walked on more slowly, and at the entrance to a lane came to another halt. Then, chancing to look into the lane, Dave uttered a short cry:

"There he is!"

Coming along the lane was Captain Marshall. His step was an uncertain one, and he pitched from side to side. As the two boys ran forward, the master of the Stormy Petrel gave a lurch and landed on some old boxes with a crash.

"Oh, Dave, can this be possible!" murmured Roger. "I did not think the captain would do it."

"Let us help him to the ship," answered Dave. He was as much shocked as his companion, and he could not help but think of what the supercargo had said.

"Oh, is it you, boys?" mumbled the captain, as he espied them. "I want to – to get back to the ship."

"We'll help you," said Dave.

"I've had an awful night – my mind is in a perfect whirl," went on the master of the Stormy Petrel.

"We'll soon have you safe on the bark," put in Roger.

The two assisted the captain to his feet. His eyes had a peculiar stare in them. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his pocket.

"Funny!" he muttered. "Very funny! I've got my watch! And I've got my money, too!"

"Did you think they were gone?" queried Dave.

"Well, I shouldn't be – be surprised. I thought they did it to rob me. What time is it? Oh, but I am weak in the legs, boys!"

"It is about eight o'clock."

"In the morning?"

"Yes."

"Then I must get back to the Stormy Petrel by all means. I – how did you come to find me?"

"We were out looking for you," answered Roger. "We were alarmed, and so was Phil, because you didn't come back last night."

"I – I meant to come back. Oh, how my head spins! I wish I had a drink of water! That coffee they dosed me with was vile."

"Coffee they dosed you with?" queried Dave. "Were you drugged?"

"I must have been, lad. I met some men, and they wanted me to drink with them. I refused. Then they offered me some coffee and native cakes, and, to be sociable, I took the stuff. Directly afterward I began to grow sleepy, and then I didn't know a thing until I woke up at the end of that lane awhile ago."

"Did you know the men?" asked Roger.

"I did not, but they pretended to know me. It's queer they didn't rob me. I wonder why they drugged me?"

"I don't know," answered Dave, "unless – "

"Unless what?"

"I shouldn't like to say, Captain Marshall. But I'll tell you one thing, you are wanted on board of the Stormy Petrel at once."

"Who wants me?"

"Phil Lawrence. We have learned something about Mr. Van Blott which we think you ought to know. But you must get your head cleared up, first of all."

They walked the captain back to the bark, and, by accident more than design, managed to get the skipper on board without the supercargo seeing the party. Then they called Phil into the cabin, and in the meantime got the captain some fresh water and some other things they fancied might do him good. They were glad to note that his dizziness was fast leaving him.

"This looks suspicious to me," said Captain Marshall, after he had heard what the boys had to relate. "But I cannot accuse Van Blott of having me drugged, as I have no proof of it. I do not know who those men were, and, more than likely, they will keep themselves out of sight."

"That is true," returned Phil. "But you can help me regarding this stuff to be taken away by Baumann & Feltmuller, can't you?"

"Certainly, Phil. I want to know all about that stuff before it leaves this ship. Have you the records of the goods?"

"No, sir; Mr. Van Blott has locked the books in the safe."

"Then, if I were you, as your father's representative, I should demand to see the records. I will back you up."

"If you will back me up, I'll go to him at once. He is already getting the goods out of the hold."

"I'll put a stop to that," answered the captain.

He was still feeble in the legs, but managed to climb to the deck, and walked to where the supercargo and the first mate were directing the unloading of a portion of the cargo.

"Hello, so you are back!" exclaimed the supercargo, and his face paled a little.

"I am," returned the captain, coldly. "Mr. Shepley, did you give orders to unload?" he went on, turning to the mate.

"I – I – er – did," stammered the mate. "You said yesterday we were to start first thing this morning."

"I did – but I expected to be here when we began. Mr. Van Blott, Philip Lawrence wishes to see you in your office."

"I haven't time to bother with him now," growled the supercargo. "Go ahead with those cases!" he shouted to some stevedores who were nearby, and pulling out his handkerchief he gave it a flourish toward the dock.

"Drop those cases!" roared Captain Marshall, his face growing red. "Drop them, I say!" And the natives who were carrying the cases stopped short.

"Captain Marshall – " began Jasper Van Blott. "I – what do you mean by this – er – by this – "

"I told you that Philip Lawrence wanted to see you in your office. You had better see him before we move any more of this cargo."

"Yes, but – "

"I won't argue the matter, Mr. Van Blott. I was drugged last night. Do you understand? Drugged! But my mind is clear now, and I want everything on this bark to run smoothly. You had better go to your office, and I'll go with you."

The supercargo glared at the captain, and the latter glared in return. Then Van Blott shrugged his shoulders.

"As you please," he said. "But it is a strange proceeding." And he walked to that part of the ship where was located his little office. As he passed the first mate, he gave the man a wink and turned his eyes toward the cases on the deck. Paul Shepley nodded slightly.

In the office they found Phil awaiting them. Roger followed the pair, but Dave had seen the wink that was passed, and remained on deck, and a moment later seated himself on one of the very cases the stevedores had been in the act of removing from the ship.

"Ain't you going with them?" asked the first mate, coming up with a dark frown on his face.

"No, I think I'll stay here until they come back," answered Dave, lightly.

"Then please get off of that box."

"I am not hurting the box, Mr. Shepley."

"Get off, I say!"

The boy from the country did so.

"I believe Captain Marshall wanted nothing moved until he came back," said Dave, gazing boldly into the mate's angry face. "Perhaps I had better call him, if you are going to work again."

"Who said I was going to move anything?" growled Paul Shepley, his manner showing that that was just what he had had in mind to do. "Don't you get too fresh around me, or there will be trouble!"

"Well, if there is trouble, I'll do my best to stand up against it."

"Aw! you make me tired!" grumbled the first mate, and strode away in deep disgust, leaving Dave master of the field.

In the meantime a stormy meeting was being held in the supercargo's office. At first Van Blott flatly refused to allow Phil to look at his books, but at last brought forth several, which the shipowner's son knew were of little importance.

"I want the books that relate to the goods to be landed here," said Phil. "I want to know all about each piece before it is put ashore."

"Humph! You are getting very particular, young man!" observed the supercargo.

"I do not deny it."

"Did your father send you on this trip to spy on me?"

"You may put it that way, if you wish, Mr. Van Blott. I am here simply to learn this business and to see that everything is O. K."

"If everything is all right, what have you to fear from an inspection like this?" came suggestively from Captain Marshall.

"I am not going to work here and be watched like a criminal!" stormed Jasper Van Blott. "If old man Lawrence can't trust me, it is time we parted company!"

"I agree with you," returned the captain.

"Do you?" came with a sneer. "Very well. I'll close up my accounts and quit."

"You'll not do it just yet," put in Phil. He was pale, but determined.

"I won't?"

"No. Before you quit you must make an accounting to me of goods and money, and satisfy me, and also Captain Marshall, that everything is O. K. in every particular."

"Bah! Boy, who gave you authority to talk to me in this fashion?"

"My father."

"I don't believe it. Why, you are a mere boy – you don't know what you are saying. I'll close up this business to suit myself and leave my keys with Captain Marshall, and that will end it."

"Mr. Van Blott, you must remember that Philip Lawrence is the shipowner's son," said the captain, sternly.

"I don't care if he is. He has no legal authority, and I don't propose to let him drive me."

"Just wait a minute, until I come back," said Phil, starting for the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Roger.

"To my stateroom. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"What is he going to do?" questioned the supercargo, uneasily.

"I don't know," answered Captain Marshall, shortly. "But, if I were you, Mr. Van Blott, I should listen to him. In a certain sense, he represents his father on this vessel."

"He doesn't represent him with me!" muttered the supercargo. His anger had made him lose a good portion of his common sense.

There was a minute of silence, during which Jasper Van Blott strode up and down the narrow office. Then a step was heard outside, and Phil reappeared, carrying a large envelope in his hand.

"My father said I was not to use this unless it was necessary," he said, drawing a paper from the envelope.

At the appearance of a legal-looking document the supercargo started back.

"What's that?" he demanded, hoarsely.

"This is a document authorizing Captain Marshall to take charge of your affairs, Mr. Van Blott. He is to investigate everything, under my supervision, and is to hold you strictly accountable for everything you have done since starting on this voyage."

CHAPTER XXIV

THE CARGO MYSTERY EXPLAINED

There was a death-like silence for several seconds after Phil made his announcement. Even Captain Marshall was astonished, for he had not anticipated such a turn of affairs.

"Let me see that paper!" demanded Jasper Van Blott, wildly. "I will not believe a word of what you have said until I read that paper."

"Then read it," answered the shipowner's son, and passed it over.

With compressed lips, the supercargo perused the document. Then he gritted his teeth.

"So this is the game you have been playing on me, eh?" he snarled. "Well, it doesn't work."

"Doesn't work?" came from Roger, who was as much interested as any one.

"No, it doesn't work. That paper isn't worth the ink it's written with. It was drawn up in the United States, and we are not in the United States now."

"Perhaps not, but we are sailing under the United States flag, Mr. Van Blott," said Captain Marshall, quickly. "Besides that, I think the authorities here will respect a legal document drawn up in Uncle Sam's country."

"It's not worth a pinch of snuff!" roared the supercargo, and would have torn the paper to bits, had not Phil and Roger leaped forward and prevented him.

"None of that!" cried Phil. "Let that alone, or I'll have Captain Marshall place you under arrest."

"Arrest? Me under arrest? I'd like to see you do it!" fumed the supercargo.

"I'll do it, unless you do what is right," said the master of the Stormy Petrel, quickly. "Mr. Van Blott, your actions do you no credit. Trying to destroy that document proves to me beyond a doubt that you have something to conceal. I shall begin an investigation at once, and the boys shall aid me."

"I don't care!" roared Jasper Van Blott. "But I am done with the ship and the whole crowd."

"Please hand over the keys to your safe boxes."

With bad grace, the supercargo did so.

"Now you will please sit down and let us go through the accounts," continued the captain.

The supercargo squirmed and argued, and did his best to get away, but it was all to no purpose, and, in the end, he had to remain in the office until the captain, Phil, and Roger had examined all the shipping accounts. Some of the entries were mixed up, and they could not obtain any satisfactory explanation regarding them.

"Now we will go on deck and examine that stuff that was to go ashore," said Captain Marshall.

"Especially the goods for Baumann & Feltmuller," put in the senator's son.

"Ha! What do you know about that firm?" gasped Jasper Van Blott.

"Not much."

"You – you have been spying on me – you must have followed me on shore," gasped the supercargo. "But you are mistaken, you will find nothing wrong," he added, suddenly, and then appeared to calm down.

They went on deck, where they found Dave still on guard. The first mate was sulking near the rail. As soon as the captain appeared Dave walked up to him.

"I am glad you are here," he whispered. "Mr. Shepley wanted to send the goods ashore, but I told him that, if he did so, I would call you."

"Is that so? Thank you, Dave, I am glad you went on watch," replied the master of the Stormy Petrel.

The inspection of the goods began, and in the midst of the work Jasper Van Blott gave an exclamation.

"Did anybody bring that brown book up?" he queried.

Nobody knew anything about a brown book, and all looked puzzled.

"That has this transaction in it in full," went on the supercargo. "I remember now, I put the book in my stateroom. I will go below and get it. That will prove everything is as straight as a string. Then I am going to sue somebody for heavy damages," he added.

He walked to the companionway and disappeared. Captain Marshall continued to inspect the goods to go ashore, and the boys aided him. That something was wrong they did not doubt, and they waited impatiently for the supercargo to reappear with his brown book.

"The first mate has gone below, too," announced Roger, presently. "Maybe the pair are talking it over between them. They are certainly hand-in-glove with each other, according to what Dave says."

"Go below and tell Mr. Van Blott I want him to come up at once," returned Captain Marshall.

The senator's son disappeared down the companionway and was gone for several minutes. He came up with a worried look on his face.

"I can't find Mr. Van Blott anywhere!" he cried.

"What!" roared the master of the Stormy Petrel. "He must be down there."

"Unless he has sneaked ashore!" came quickly from Dave.