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As d.i.c.k reached the group, he read the names from the list in his hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. John McCarthy. You are in stateroom number seven. Take what baggage you can carry, the rest will be put on board." He called each name and stateroom; they headed for the s.h.i.+p. John McCarthy he found was the man he had met in the office, and he _still_ had his perpetual grin. Evidently his fiancee had agreed to the pact for they were now man and wife.
When d.i.c.k started toward the s.h.i.+p, after watching the baggage put on board, he was stopped by a tap on the shoulder. The cab drivers were still waiting for their money. Morquil had left everything in his hands, even to paying for the motor trip to the dock.
It was a strange departure, with only a few people on the dock to say goodbye. Even they were just neighbors of the pa.s.sengers. Most of the women on board were crying as the _Primrose_ nosed out through the harbor toward the open sea.
d.i.c.k was still at the rail when the captain approached. "I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Barrow, but I must know our destination so I can set the course."
The young leader's day dreaming was cut short, to jerk him back to his duties. He felt that the lives and hopes of everyone on the s.h.i.+p had been thrust into his hands.
Even the captain didn't know where they were going. The s.h.i.+p had been chartered for a voyage of several months, to an unknown destination. He and the crew were well paid, and didn't care where they went.
d.i.c.k drew a sealed envelope from his pocket, detached a slip of paper and handed it to the captain. He read the note, then repeated it. "You are to keep the destination to yourself. No one on the s.h.i.+p is to know where we are going, and you will not mention it to me again. I hope that we have good weather, Captain, and a fast trip."
Barrow felt like a fool. Repeating messages as if they were his own--without the slightest knowledge of what they were about. _He_ was supposedly charting the course--and didn't have the slightest idea where they were going.
When d.i.c.k reached his stateroom (after answering questions from everyone on board--and telling them nothing) he found Dolores sobbing. She had kept her smile until the boat sailed. Now she was crying her eyes out.
It was not a new sight, as every woman on the s.h.i.+p seemed occupied in the same way, with the men trying to comfort them.
As d.i.c.k sat down beside her, he could feel the throb of the diesel motor. It seemed to carry the rhythm of adventure through the walls of the cabin, giving the feeling of the unknown. For a long time there was silence while Dolores held one of d.i.c.k's hands for protection.
"d.i.c.k! We only have _one_ cabin! I'm supposed to stay here with you--and I _hardly know you_! Morquil told me that I must stay here, there are no extra rooms."
"I'm sorry, Dolores. We will just have to put up with things as they are. We've got into this and will have to see it through. After all, we _are_ man and wife, and the people on board would think it strange if we didn't occupy the same room. There are two bunks, so I won't have to sleep on the floor. It will be a long trip, and we might as well enjoy it as much as possible."
Days changed into weeks as the s.h.i.+p plowed steadily south. They stopped at one port for a few hours to refuel, but there was little to see. The s.h.i.+p was slow and it felt good to walk on land again. But no one spoke enough English to answer questions.
It was the only time they sighted land until just before the end of the trip, when small islands began to slide by. Some within a few hundred feet, others just visible in the distance. Morquil hadn't appeared on deck during the entire trip, but now he approached the rail.
His face lighted with an ethereal glow as he gazed across the blue water. He looked like a man who was sighting his home after many years of absence. d.i.c.k couldn't help but feel glad for him, while cold chills of misgiving crept up and down his own spine. Their voyage was ending at a far different place that he had pictured in his mind, and quite the opposite of the description which Morquil had given of gigantic mechanical development.
They were pa.s.sing by small south-sea islands, where mechanical equipment was out of the question. They hardly appeared _habitable_!
When the captain approached d.i.c.k, Morquil joined the conversation.
"_I'll_ give you the directions, Captain. Mr. Barrow is not feeling well, and I can do it for him.
"In about an hour we will reach the island, and I will point out the entrance to the harbor. It is well protected and there is no need to worry about any storm while we unload."
Every inch of s.p.a.ce in the s.h.i.+p was packed with supplies. There were crates of books as well as pieces of machinery. Considerable radio equipment included a.s.sembled sets as well as parts. There were rifles and even one small cannon. Several crates of chickens and turkeys joined the other things on the beach. Then to the amazement of the party, a crate of pigs appeared.
It required three days to empty the s.h.i.+p, and with each pa.s.sing hour the little party grew more apprehensive. It seemed as if they had been transferred to an island to start a _new_ civilization, instead of a place where mechanical development was far advanced. Because d.i.c.k was the leader of the party, the others began to look at him with hatred; Morquil was almost forgotten.
When the last piece of equipment was covered with heavy tarpaulins, they constructed a shelter against one side of the pile. It was almost dark when everything was finished, and the captain decided to wait until the next day to sail. Everyone was invited on board the _Primrose_, for a farewell party.
d.i.c.k was forced to call a meeting in the main cabin, to forestall danger of the party deserting with the s.h.i.+p. Morquil had instructed him carefully.
"Friends, we are facing a great adventure. I'm in no different position than you, except that as leader I am responsible for whatever happens. I must take all blame for whatever comes, yet know that it will eventually work out as we expected.
"You all know that it is forbidden to talk about this trip, or to surmise our destination. I can a.s.sure you that it is done for your benefit, and later you will appreciate the fact that you did _not_ know the future. I can't say what the next few days will bring to all of us, but be a.s.sured that everything you have been promised will be fulfilled.
"At the moment it seems impossible that things can turn out as we expected, but they _will_! You must simply be patient, and do not lose faith in this great adventure."
As d.i.c.k finished his speech, Morquil smiled, well satisfied. Dolores even smiled faintly, although it required effort to overcome her feeling of disaster.
The following morning everyone went ash.o.r.e, and John McCarthy went around trying to aid Barrow in cheering up the party. He lied like a trooper, whispering to everyone that he had discovered something that satisfied _him_ about the marvelous civilization they would reach before long.
Word of this reached Morquil, and he hurriedly called d.i.c.k and John out of sound of the others. He appeared almost frightened, and the moment they were alone, he spoke.
"What have you learned? I wanted you to know nothing, and it is better if you are ignorant. Whatever you learned is too much, and may upset the future."
John started to laugh, then seeing the expression of agony on the face of Morquil, he stopped short. "Don't worry. I haven't learned _anything_! I simply tried to help d.i.c.k keep the people satisfied. They were getting so restless they _needed_ something. In my home town I was known as a famous liar, and thought my ability might come in handy."
Slowly the agony disappeared from Morquil's face. "Someday you will understand how much you have done for me, John. You will never regret it!"
The McCarthys remained jovial, and tried to keep up the spirits of the others as the days of loneliness pa.s.sed.
Philip Jones and his wife were quiet, and waited patiently. Andrew and Emma Smith had taken over the cooking, and served the meals. George and Mary Martin were the youngest couple, and d.i.c.k doubted whether either of them was past twenty-one. The others were all nearer thirty. They spent their time side by side, gazing over the sea, perfectly happy in each other's company.
Jerold Brown and Peter Yarbro were constantly fis.h.i.+ng, from the collapsible boat, while their wives played cards.
One night they were awakened by brilliant flashes of light. Running to the beach, they watched in amazement.
They appeared like big guns firing just above the surface of the water, a few miles away. While they watched they gradually faded out. It was like a terrific electric storm, and the little party drew close together for comfort.
When the lights faded out entirely, Morquil told them to get some sleep.
They would have to move equipment aboard a new s.h.i.+p the following day.
With the first streak of dawn d.i.c.k was back at the edge of the beach, straining his eyes into the gloom, but it was almost an hour before any object was visible.
After breakfast the s.h.i.+p was much plainer. They could see a rounded hull, like the top of a huge submarine, above the water. One of the women remarked that she would _stay_ on the island before she'd enter an undersea s.h.i.+p. The trip on the _Primrose_ was bad enough, but it wasn't _below_ the surface.
Morquil called them within the canvas shelter, as if to make a speech.
He held a small ball in one hand, and while they waited for instructions it landed in their midst.
A cloud of yellow vapor burst from the object, and everyone in the party slowly sank to the ground. Morquil joined the others in unconscious stupor, a victim of his own gas.
CHAPTER III
_Strange Destination_