The Go Ahead Boys and the Treasure Cave Part 1

The Go Ahead Boys and the Treasure Cave.

by Ross Kay.

PREFACE

The love of adventure is inborn in all normal boys. Action is almost a supreme demand in the stories they read with most pleasure. Recognizing this primary demand, in this tale I have endeavored to keep in mind this requisite and at the same time to avoid sensational appeals. The unusual is not always the improbable. The Go Ahead Boys are striving to be active without being unduly precocious or preternaturally endowed.

ROSS KAY.

CHAPTER I

THE VOYAGE IS BEGUN

"A-a-ll ha-a-ands! Up anchor! A-ho-oy!"

Instantly all was bustle and action on board the brig _Josephine_.

The sailors ran hither and thither, the sails were loosed and the yards braced. The clanking of the windla.s.s soon told that the anchor was being raised.

"Whew! I never saw so much excitement and hurry in all my life,"

exclaimed a boy, who with three companions stood on the deck of the brig and looked on at these activities without actually taking part in them themselves. The speaker was Fred b.u.t.ton. He was a tiny little fellow, known affectionately among his friends as Stub, or Peewee or Pygmy. This last name was frequently shortened into Pyg, much to Fred's disgust, though he had learned better than to lose his temper because of teasing or little things that did not just suit him. He had given up such foolishness long ago.

With his three companions he had embarked on the _Josephine_ for a voyage to Buenos Aires in South America. The lure of the sea had attracted these four boys and the desire to see something of foreign lands had spurred them on. They were on board in the capacity of pa.s.sengers though it was also their desire to help the crew in whatever way they were able.

Standing beside Fred b.u.t.ton was John Clemens, a boy who was as unusually tall as Fred was short. He was extremely thin, however, and with his six feet three inches of height he looked like a string, according to his friends. In fact that was what they usually called him.

Next to him was Grant Jones. Grant was about eighteen, the same age as the other three boys though he was their leader in a great many ways. No matter what he attempted he always did it well. In school work he usually led his cla.s.s and on the athletic field he far outshone the others. His talents had won him the nickname of Socrates which, however, was usually shortened to Soc. "Old Soc Jones" was always a favorite.

The fourth member of the group was George Was.h.i.+ngton Sanders. He was always good natured and his witty remarks had made him intensely popular with all who knew him. In honor of the name he bore he sometimes had been referred to as the father of his country, which appellation, however, had finally been corrupted to Pop.

"It certainly is busy around here, isn't it?" exclaimed Grant Jones in response to Fred b.u.t.ton's remarks previously referred to.

"And it's all mystery to me," added John Clemens. "These orders being shouted and the strange things the men are doing are getting me bewildered."

"I've been standing here expecting some one of the sailors to mistake you for a mast and hang a sail on you any minute, String," said Pop Sanders slyly, at the same time nudging Fred b.u.t.ton.

"Is that so?" exclaimed John Clemens quickly. "At any rate, I'd rather be the shape of a mast than a bag of ballast."

"That's the way, String," said Grant Jones encouragingly. "Don't let him get the better of you."

"He never has and he never will," said John complacently.

"Stop arguing," exclaimed Fred b.u.t.ton, "and tell me what kind of a boat this is that we are on."

"It's a sailing boat," said Pop Sanders. "Did you think it was a steamer?"

"I mean what kind of a sailing boat is it. Is it a schooner or a bark, or what?"

"It's a brig," said Socrates Jones. "You can always tell a brig from the way she is rigged. She has two masts and is square rigged."

"I thought that was a brigantine," protested Fred.

"No," said Grant. "A brigantine is very much the same though. She has two masts and is square rigged on the foremast, but schooner rigged on the other."

"Which is called the mainmast," said Fred.

"Quite right," agreed Grant. "I'll make a sailor of you yet."

The _Josephine_ was now sliding through the waters of New York Bay.

The Statue of Liberty was just ahead on her right (or rather her starboard side) while on the port side was Governor's Island, with its old fort and parade ground plainly to be seen. Two big ocean liners loomed up a short distance away. One was just completing her voyage from Europe while the other was only starting. Saucy little tugs rushed hither and thither. Ferryboats pa.s.sed, bearing their precious burdens of human freight. Great barges loaded to the water's edge were towed slowly along. Ahead could be seen many steamers lying at anchor in the lower bay off the quarantine station, while now and again a sailing vessel similar to the one on which the Go Ahead boys were embarked could also be seen. They were not very numerous, however.

"Well, what do you think of it, boys?" demanded a bluff, hearty voice behind them. It was Captain Roger Dodge, the commander of the _Josephine_, who spoke to them. His face was bronzed by the sun and wind and his drooping mustache was faded to a straw color. His gray eyes were the features that struck any one who observed him closely, however.

A merry twinkle could be seen in them, but at the same time their expression denoted that their owner was a man who would never be afraid of anything on land or sea.

"We think it's fine," exclaimed Fred b.u.t.ton speaking for the others.

"It's a wonderful harbor all right," said Captain Dodge. "I think it's just about the finest in the world and I've seen most of them too."

"What one do you like next to this, captain?" inquired Grant. Old Soc Jones was always eager to learn something.

"Well," said the captain slowly, "I guess the harbor at Sydney, Australia, next to this. Still San Francisco has a wonderful harbor, too. That golden gate out there is a sight worth seeing."

"I wish I could see it," said Grant, wistfully. "Some day I hope to do it, too. Still, there are so many wonderful places in the world it's hard to say which ones you'd rather see first."

"That's very true," agreed the captain. "I've seen a good many, but I always want to see more. I've knocked around the world so long that I don't believe I could settle down and be happy now. I guess I've got the wanderl.u.s.t all right."

"It's easy to get," exclaimed Pop Sanders, serious for once. "We've all got it ourselves."

"How long have you been a sailor, captain?" asked John Clemens.

"Thirty years. I started in as a cabin boy when I was fourteen years old and I've been at it ever since."

"You ought to know about all there is to know about it, I should think,"

said Fred.

"Without boasting at all, I can safely say that I do know a lot about the business," said Captain Dodge, smilingly. "I've done about all there is to do on a s.h.i.+p, I guess."

"And you've had some wonderful experiences," suggested Grant.

"Yes, I have," said the captain smilingly.

"Will you tell us about them sometime?"

"I should be glad to," said the captain readily. "Not now, though, for, as you can see, I am pretty busy," and the bluff sailor hurried away, shouting orders to his men, who all seemed to like him and take delight in carrying out his commands as quickly as possible.