The Radio Boys Under the Sea: or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure

Then while two of the men removed the ghastly huddled heap from the grass, Ramirez proceeded to give his reason for delaying the attack. Phil listened eagerly. Half-sickened as he was by what he had seen, he knew he must keep his senses intensely alert.

“They have not recovered all of the treasure,” said Ramirez. “I hear them talk. They have three chests. There are more. When they have them all, then we shall take them from them. We shall be rich and they – they shall be dead.” His mouth stretched in an evil grin.

Phil waited for no more. Silently, as he had come, he slipped away into the darkness.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE HORRORS OF THE LAGOON

Not until he had reached the rise of ground from which he had first looked down into the ravine did Phil pause. Then he turned and cast one backward glance at the sinister group gathered about the fire.

They seemed to have settled down into a drunken sleep, for their figures, dwarfed with distance, were sprawled upon the ground and the fire had burned low.

Phil wondered about the man whom Ramirez had shot down. Was he dead? He shuddered at the thought of that shapeless, huddled figure on the grass. He turned and hurried on through the blackness.

But he had not gone very far when he was stopped by an obstruction which had not been there when he had passed that way before.

At this point the rocky side of the mountain jutted almost to the sea. Phil remembered how when he had been cautiously following the flitting shadow of Ramirez, he had been forced to circle this projection, coming well out onto the sandy beach.

Now there was no beach, nothing but a swirling sea of water, seeming to mock at his helplessness. For a moment Phil was dumbfounded and then the explanation of the thing came to him.

While he had been following Ramirez, while he had been spying upon that band of ruffians gathered about the fire, the water, urged on by the incoming tide, had crept up and up until it had covered that narrow strip of sand, pounding in vain against the almost perpendicular side of the mountain.

For a moment Phil did not realize the full meaning of this calamity. But it was not long before the peril of his predicament was brought home to him.

At first he thought that the water could not be very deep. He did not realize how long a time had passed since he had been that way before. Tentatively he put his foot in it, then stepped back quickly. He had seen something that made the blood run cold in his veins.

There, dimly outlined in the wan light of the stars was the dorsal fin of a shark! He thought there were more than one, but he could not be sure.

Sharks! It is no wonder that for a moment Phil felt utterly thwarted and helpless. He was caught, caught in a trap as pretty as though Ramirez himself had set it for him.

He might get back to the cave by retracing his steps toward the ravine he had just left and find another route across the island, but this after a moment he rejected as being almost impossible.

He was not familiar with this part of the island and he knew that the damage done by the earthquake had made some sections of it impassable. It was getting near morning too, and it would never do to be found wandering about this part of the island after daybreak.

Someway he must get back to the cave and warn his unsuspecting comrades. Someway he must get across that swirling lagoon. Once on the other side, the rest would be simple. He had only to follow the shore to reach the cave.

But once more the problem confronted him. How to cross that narrow stretch of water. The water was probably swarming with sharks. He could not hope to get a third, no, not even a quarter, of the way across the death stretch without meeting a most horrible fate. And yet his comrades must be warned!

He gazed up at the stars as though seeking some help from them. But they looked down at him unblinkingly, far away, remote, cold. He could expect no help from them.

Although the night was breathlessly hot, Phil shivered. He stared at the narrow, menacing lagoon as though it fascinated him. He made a step toward it, then stopped as something wound and clung about his foot.

He stooped to disentangle himself and his groping fingers found themselves buried in wet seaweed. Suddenly, with the swiftness of inspiration, the idea came to him. It was a mad idea of course, utterly desperate, but then, his case was desperate.

There was plenty of that seaweed, great bunches of it, thrown up by the incoming tide. If he should bury himself in it, winding it about him so that he resembled a huge tangle of the stuff, might he not hope to fool the sharks? He could not fool them for long that was sure, but the lagoon was narrow. Their bewilderment might give him the chance to get across.

No sooner did Phil think of it than he began to put the idea into practice. He was feeling excited, almost elated. Now that he had a plan, no matter how dangerous, there was a great relief in being able to put it into practice.

He had no difficulty in gathering together all the sea weed needed for his purpose. Dexterously he wound it about his body, binding it about his waist with his belt and fastening it about his neck and arms and ankles with long strands of the grass itself.

When his work was finished, he looked like nothing so much as a huge haystack in action. The seaweed was mighty uncomfortable, its dampness penetrating his clothes and the sharp edges pricking his skin where it was exposed.

“I hope I can manage to keep afloat with all this cargo aboard me,” he said grimly to himself as he paused on the edge of that death stretch, gathering courage to fling himself into its shark-infested waters. “Now for it – and here’s trusting to luck that I ever come out of it.”

He tried to speak lightly, more for the sake of his own encouragement than anything else, but as he slowly waded into the water he knew that the adventure he was entering upon might very well be his last.

Slowly, with infinite caution, he waded into the water till it was about his waist, then slowly raised his feet and lowered his arms till he lay face downward, swaying with the motion of the water.

Never before in his life had he done anything as hard as that. As long as he was on his feet, it seemed there was the chance to fight. But lying there like this, at the mercy of those giant pirates of the sea! He shivered and still lay motionless.

Then quietly, very gently, so as not to arouse the suspicion of his enemies, he began to move his arms, then his legs, ever so slowly, so that the motion was scarcely noticeable in the swirling of the water.

Before him, beside him, everywhere around him, flashed the sinister fins of sharks. Puzzled, they swam closely about this queer object that looked like seaweed but that moved as though it had life.

Phil hardly breathed. It seemed to him as though even his heart had stopped beating. The shore – would he never reach it? He did not even dare to lift his head to see.

CHAPTER XXIV

CHEATING THE SHARKS

An immensity of stars glittering in the sky, staring indifferently down upon an endless waste of water, and upon this waste of water, close up toward the shore, a little clump of seaweed, agitated by the motion of the sea.

Inside the covering of seaweed which was so slight a protection against the danger that menaced him on every side, Phil made his tedious, nightmare journey toward the farther side of the lagoon.

The bodies of the sharks edged in closer. They were becoming bolder as their suspicions grew. They could smell the unmistakable odor of human flesh and they could not much longer be denied.

Knowing this, Phil had a mad desire to throw all caution to the winds and swim rapidly toward the safety of the beach. However, he knew that the moment he gave way to this desire the suspicion of the sharks would change to certainty. And the instant that happened all chance of escape would be gone.

He turned sick as he felt the hideous creatures nosing at his disguise. They were pressing so close upon him that it was all he could do to make any progress at all. They were becoming bolder with each second. Just a little while more and it would be all over. Over – Phil repeated to himself, trying to gather fortitude to meet his fate.

He thought of the fellows, Jack Benton and poor old Bimbo. In one agonizing moment there came to him the realization of what would happen to them when he did not come to warn them of the danger lurking on the island.

They would search for him, of course. His disappearance would always be a mystery to them. They would not have time to think much about him though – again that blood-curdling, inquisitive pressure against his sides, his legs, his hands. They were closing in – closing in – his body was cold and numb – he wondered if he were dying – he could hardly move his hand – closing in – closing in – he shivered convulsively – then – what was that?

He could not have been mistaken. His knee had struck bottom. He had reached shallow water! The renewed hope that flooded him was like pain. If he reached his foot downward he could touch bottom – stand up.

Without stopping to think, acting merely upon a quick impulse born of desperation, he sprang upright, splashing madly about him.

The ruse worked. The sharks, momentarily puzzled and bewildered by his quick action, drew back. That was all Phil wanted. With a wild shout he sprang forward, and a moment later felt the sand beneath his feet.

He staggered a few feet and then fell down in the sand, half-crazed with joy. He stripped off the clinging seaweed and half-buried his shivering body in the sand, letting handfuls of it slip through his fingers for the sheer delight of feeling it and knowing that he was safe. Never would he be again any closer to death than he had been in the last hideous few minutes. His escape seemed a miracle. He could scarcely believe yet that he was safe.

For a long time he lay there, gazing up at the stars, the warmth of the sand comforting his chilled body, luxuriating in the mere fact of living.

Then as he became quiet and the strength came back to him, the faint gray of dawn coloring the horizon in the east warned him that he must get back to the cave.

What had he been thinking of, wasting all this precious time when he should be back there warning his comrades, putting them on their guard!

As he scrambled to his feet, brushing the sand from him, he was conscious of a queer glow of exultation. The blood was pounding once more warmly through his veins. In spite of the tremendous odds against him he had come safely through that death-haunted lagoon. By means of strategy he had outwitted the monster fish, any one of which could have ended his life with one snap of his murderous jaws.

He had braved one of the worst dangers that can confront a man and now he was safe, free to warn his comrades of danger, free to ward off the attacks of Ramirez and his men, free to guard the treasure from all comers.

No wonder he was exultant. He raised his arms above his head and gazed up at the star-gemmed sky.

“The treasure is ours,” he cried aloud to the night. “I’d like to see anyone get it away from us.”

And with this challenge he turned and hurried toward the cave. By the time he reached it, it was almost morning.

As he stopped at the mouth of the cave it seemed impossible, after all that had happened to him, that the boys could still be sleeping soundly. While he had been making his tremendous discovery, been fighting his fight with death, they had slept on without ever a worry to disturb their dreams.

“They’re going to wake up now, just the same,” he muttered. “They’ve had all the sleep they’re going to have for one night.”

Whereupon he shook Dick by the shoulder, calling upon him urgently to give up slumber and come back to earth.

“Say, what’s the matter with you?” groaned Dick, trying to shake off Phil’s grip of his shoulder. “We only just got to bed. Don’t you know that?”

“Snap out of it,” retorted Phil and there was a note in his voice that caused Dick to blink at him owlishly. “When you hear what I have to tell you, you’ll agree with me that this is no time for sleeping!”

One after another, the boys roused up, helped no doubt by the urgent quality in Phil’s voice. When they were awake enough to know what he was talking about he began swiftly to tell them of his adventure.

At his first words, they forgot all about their desire to go back to bed. Bimbo had lit the one lamp their quarters boasted and in the light of this they stared at Phil as though they thought he were weaving fairy stories for their benefit.

“Ramirez – on this island,” said Tom, dazedly. “How did he get here?”

“How many men were there with him, Phil?” asked Jack Benton quietly. In the light of the lamp his eyes glowed and his lips were set in a straight line.

“About nineteen or twenty, I should say,” returned Phil, adding with a grim smile, “If the fellow is dead that Ramirez took a shot at that makes one less against us, anyway.”

“It’s – it’s hard to realize yet,” said Tom, softly. “How could they have been here all the time on the island and we not know about it? It seems as if we must have heard something or seen something – ”

“I did,” Phil interrupted him. “But when I told you about it, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You mean that shot you thought you heard?” broke in Steve excitedly.

“The shot I’m sure I heard, you mean,” Phil corrected, and then went on to tell about the first time he thought he had caught sight of a man slipping from the cave. “I thought at the time, I must have dreamed it,” he finished. “But now of course I know it was as real as my adventure to-night.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it?” asked Dick, who was always eager for action. “Why couldn’t we make a surprise attack upon those ruffians and clean them out – ”

“It’s nearly morning,” Phil interrupted the wild scheme. “By the time we reached them they’d probably be up and stirring and your surprise would come to nothing. Beside,” he added with an unpleasant memory of the lagoon, “we would have to wait till the tide went out, anyway. We’d have to swim a stretch of about fifty yards of water that’s packed full of sharks.”

He had not told them yet about his narrow escape from death and now Jack Benton leaned forward, intense interest on his face.

“Then how did you get here?” he demanded.

“I swam that fifty yards of water,” Phil answered, quietly.

CHAPTER XXV

IN DEADLY DANGER

It took the boys a moment or two to catch the full significance of this simple question and answer. Phil never boasted of his exploits. He never spoke of them unless directly questioned.

But suddenly they realized just what his simple answer meant. He had swum safely through fifty yards of shark-infested water! Impossible. It couldn’t be done.

“Listen Phil,” cried Steve, eagerly, “Don’t kid us, old boy. You couldn’t pull off a stunt like that and live to tell the tale. It just isn’t being done.”

“The sharks were dead ones,” suggested Tom, skeptically.

“I wish they had been,” Phil returned. “I’d have been saved a lot of bother. Tying myself up in that slimy wet seaweed wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“Seaweed,” repeated Tom while the boys looked more and more mystified. “What do you mean – seaweed?”

Then Phil quickly sketched for them that nightmare journey across the shark-infested lagoon. They drank in his words eagerly, living over with him every moment of that hideous experience.

When he had finished they stared at him with eyes in which there was admiration and a new respect. Bimbo, who, all during the recital, had been edging nearer his idol, now crouched beside him, looking up into Phil’s face adoringly, even while he shook with fright.

“Seaweed,” muttered Jack Benton. “Now who, but you, would have thought of that, Phil? It’s a clever idea, all right.”

“It was a lucky one,” said Phil. “It sure had those maneaters guessing, all right. But now,” he added, going back to the danger which menaced them in the shape of Ramirez and his men, “we’ve got to get busy and hide the treasure. From what I saw last night, that gang of his won’t be held off much longer. For all I know they may attack this morning.”

“At any rate, we’ll have to be prepared for them,” agreed Jack Benton, rising as he spoke. “As you say, the first thing is to dispose of the treasure.”

So in the ghostly first light of the early dawn, the boys filed out of the cave armed with pickaxe and shovel, determined to put the boxes with their precious contents safely out of harm’s way.

As Tom had said, it was hard for them to realize that Phil’s strange story was actual fact. They had gone to sleep the night before so secure in their possession of the treasure. It seemed impossible that now not only it, but their own lives, as well, were menaced.

But Phil, who had discovered the danger and had no doubts whatever as to the reality of it, worked like a beaver, driving them on mercilessly whenever they stopped to take breath.

“We can rest all we want to, afterward,” he reminded them when they protested. “But now our job is to get these chests out of sight and be mighty quick about it. Hi there, Steve, heave to, my lad. You’re wasting time!”

They had chosen a spot for the burying of the chests quite a distance from the cave but not so far but what they could “keep an eye” upon the place.

When they had finished and pounded the disturbed earth down hard over the great hole that contained such riches they scattered stones and twigs over it with apparent carelessness so that when the task was completed to their satisfaction, there was nothing to distinguish the spot from the surrounding scenery.

“There,” said Phil, drawing a great breath of relief. “Now I guess we can take time for some breakfast. I’m about famished.”

As the boys found themselves in the same sad fix they returned to the cave, relieved Bimbo of guard duty – a revolver had been thrust into the darky’s hands but it is doubtful if he would have had the courage to use it in case of necessity – and commanded him to “rustle some grub.”

This Bimbo did willingly, glad to escape to the comparative safety of the cave’s interior.

“Poor Bimbo,” observed Dick, as he examined his revolver to make sure it was ready for action. “Something tells me he isn’t enjoying himself the way he should.”

Steve grinned, but the grin quickly changed to a more serious expression.

“Say, Phil,” he said, uneasily, “Don’t you think we’d better scout about a bit and find out if there’s anybody spying on us? All the time we were burying the treasure I felt as though someone were looking on.”

Phil shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Then you don’t think they’ll attack right away?” put in Dick quickly.

Again Phil shook his head.

“I think Ramirez has them pretty well under his thumb,” he said. “They won’t dare to carry mutiny very far. And as for Ramirez himself, he’s a pretty cautious rascal – and a greedy one too. He must have spent a good deal of his time around these diggings. At the moment we brought in the treasure he was hiding somewhere nearby. Later he came so close to the cave that he listened in on our conversation.”

The boys looked startled and glanced about them uneasily. The sun had risen flamingly giving promise of another fine day, but even its bright rays did not do much to lessen the uncomfortable feeling that someone was lurking near, spying upon them.

“The rat!” muttered Dick under his breath. “How much did he hear, Phil?”

“Enough,” Phil answered earnestly, “to make him sure that we had not only found the treasure but that there was still more to come. That’s his chief reason for not wiping us off the map at once.”

“Wants us to do the work, eh?” said Jack Benton. “And then when we’ve recovered all the treasure for him – which feat he couldn’t hope to accomplish for himself, not having the necessary equipment – he’ll get rid of us and triumphantly carry off the treasure?”

Phil smiled grimly.

“Almost his very words,” he said.

“Well,” Steve fingered his trusty revolver, resolutely, “I have an idea he won’t find it quite as easy as he thinks for. We’ll give him a good fight for his money anyway.”

“For our money, you mean,” corrected Tom with a grin.

“I was a fool to think we had seen the last of that scoundrel, Ramirez,” said Jack Benton, moodily. “The smell of gold to that kind of scum is like raw meat to a pack of wolves. Of course it was he that shadowed us in San Domingo. On the strength of his story of treasure, it would have been the easiest thing in the world to gather about him a band of desperate men, ready for any illegitimate adventure. They have chartered some sort of ship and followed us here. Simplest thing in the world.”

“You bet,” agreed Phil. “And now they think they have everything their own way. They know now certainly there is a treasure and though they know it is temporarily in our possession – ”

“Temporarily – say, where do you get that stuff?” demanded Steve indignantly. “You don’t suppose they’ve got a chance in the world of getting that gold away from us, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” said Phil, adding soberly. “But it won’t do for us to forget for a minute, that they are twenty against our six.”

“Five and a half, you mean,” said Tom with a grin as he thought of Bimbo. “I imagine old Bimbo – ” But Phil sent him a warning glance as the black boy himself appeared in the door to announce that “breffus done been prepared dis long time. Done nobody else wanna eat it Ah will, yassir, Ah’s one hungry nigger!”

Phil insisted on keeping watch while the other boys ate and no amount of argument could move him from his stand. However, Dick hastily finished his breakfast and relieved the famished Phil.

As soon as they had fortified themselves with food, they set about to barricade the cave. For, as Phil had said, the odds were tremendously on the side of Ramirez and his men and in order to overcome these odds it was necessary that their position be strongly fortified.

They barricaded the mouth of the cave, leaving a gap only wide enough for one person to squeeze through with difficulty. They were careful to leave peep holes, however, through which they might watch the movements of the enemy.

A heavy stone had been rolled inside the cave so that even the narrow aperture might be blocked up if it became necessary.

“There,” said Phil, grimly as he regarded the operations. “Now let ’em come on.”

CHAPTER XXVI

THE VOLCANO WAKES

Then began the hardest part of it all for the boys – the waiting part. There was no telling what time Ramirez and his men might take for the attack so that all they could expect to do was to keep a close guard upon the cave and – wait.

They thought constantly of the rest of the treasure which still lay in the hold of the sunken ship. If only they had been able to recover the remainder of those precious chests before they had learned of the new danger that threatened them!

Dick was for going ahead anyway on the chance that Ramirez would not attack that day. But the rest were all against such a wild plan.

“There is no use risking what treasure we have already – as well as our lives,” said Phil. “What’s to prevent Ramirez and his men from sneaking up while we were out there on the raft and barring our way back to shore? With the heavy odds against us, what chance would we have?”

“We’d have the choice,” Steve took up the argument, “of pitting our six men against their twenty or staying out on the raft to starve or be caught in one of the sudden storms that we have around here and drown – ”

“Later to be eaten by the sharks,” finished Tom, gloomily, and at this even Dick seemed convinced that the part of wisdom would be to stick close to the shore.

All day long they kept guard, ready at the first sign of attack to make for the barricaded cave, thus more or less evening the odds against them.

They were confident of being able to rout the enemy. It was only the delay that worried.

“Why don’t they get busy?” cried Dick, pacing up and down, his hands shoved savagely in his pockets. “I can stand anything but this waiting game. If they don’t start something pretty soon, I’m going to take my gun and do a little war dance over to their part of the island all by myself if nobody else will come with me.”