The Go Ahead Boys and the Treasure Cave Part 5

"That's all right," said Captain Dodge. "In case he is s.h.i.+pwrecked he can tell in which direction he is going anyway. Not that that knowledge would do him very much good."

"And my diary," added Pop. "Don't forget that. I always carry a diary in my hip pocket with a little pencil in it so that I can jot things down just as soon as they happen or rather when I think to do it. You see when you have it with you you are more apt to keep it up to date."

"A good idea," said the captain warmly. "I see that you are a very methodical young man and probably I shall get you to keep the log for me."

"I guess you wouldn't want me to do that," laughed Pop. "I'm afraid it wouldn't be done very well."

All day long the boys lolled about on the deck. Fred had joined his companions and the four friends discussed what they should do when they arrived at Buenos Aires, the beautiful South American city of which they had heard so much. They talked of a sailor's life and all its hards.h.i.+ps and its pleasures. Like everything else it is a mixture of good and bad and too much of either is harmful anyway.

After supper that evening the wind died down. The water became almost as quiet as a mill pond and more than one of the four friends whispered to his comrades that the Finn was at the bottom of it all. George Sanders mentioned this to Captain Dodge in a joking way but the captain only laughed and said, "Wait. Unless I am very much mistaken we'll have a fine favoring wind inside of two hours."

His prophecy was soon fulfilled too, for in a short time a damp night-breeze sprang up out of the west. Up came the anchor, the sails were set, and the _Josephine_ slid ghost-like down through the narrows, around Sandy Hook and out into the open sea.

"We're off, String," exclaimed George Sanders joyously. The two boys were standing near the forward hatchway looking out across the black water. If Pop had known what awaited them perhaps he would not have been quite so light hearted.

CHAPTER IV

A CODE

The breeze held strongly and the _Josephine_ made splendid progress. The life on s.h.i.+pboard had endless attractions for the four young boys. They learned the parts of the s.h.i.+p, the names of the sails and how to navigate. Sailors taught them to splice ropes and how to tie the hundred and one knots familiar to those who follow the sea. The weather was ideal and as everything went well, all on board were in excellent spirits.

"I guess Sam was wrong about this hard luck business," remarked John Clemens one day to Grant Jones. The two boys were standing near the bow of the brig, watching two of Mother Carey's chickens, those friendly little birds that follow and play around boats even out in the middle of the ocean.

"It certainly looks so, String," said Grant. "We can't hold much against the Finn so far, can we?"

"I should say not. Let's hope it keeps up."

"I don't see how it can," said Grant. "So far it has been almost too good to be true, and I don't see how it can last."

"I think it will though."

"Sam says not. He says that maybe we have escaped so far but he still insists we're going to have something happen to us before we're through."

"He's cheerful, isn't he?" laughed John. "I'm not worrying though."

"Mr. Johnson says that we're almost bound to strike bad weather when we get into the gulf-stream."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know except for what he said. He says that sometimes you can see the low banks of clouds over the gulf-stream and that you may run from a clear sky and light wind, with all sail, into a heavy sea and cloudy sky where you'll need double reefs."

"Isn't that queer," exclaimed John. "I wonder when we'll reach it."

"Fairly soon, I should say," said Grant. "We must be getting pretty far south by now."

"We are. Captain Dodge told me we'd be in the West Indies before long."

"I wish we could stop."

"You want to see everything," laughed John. "We're going to South America, aren't we? What more do you want?"

At that moment Fred and George Sanders approached the two boys.

"We ought to be Sons of Neptune in a few days," exclaimed George gayly as he and Fred came up to the place where their two friends were standing.

"What do you mean by that, Pop?" asked John curiously.

"Just what I say, String, my boy," said George. "You don't mean to tell me that you don't know what a Son of Neptune is! Every man that sails any of the seven seas ought to know that."

"Don't be funny, Pop," warned John, a.s.suming a threatening att.i.tude.

"Tell me what it means and be quick about it."

"You swear you don't know?"

"You heard what I said, didn't you?"

"Yes," grinned Pop, "but you know I don't believe half what you say."

"Throw him overboard, String," urged Fred. "Don't fool with him any longer."

"That's just about what I had decided to do," said John.

"Wait," cried Pop, stepping forward and holding up his hand dramatically. "Spare my life and I will tell all."

"Be quick about it then," warned John. "I shan't fool with you much longer."

"I know it," said Pop, pretending to be greatly alarmed. "I know it, String, and I must say I am awfully frightened."

John stepped forward and raised his hands as if he was about to seize George W. Sanders by the neck. He had no opportunity to do so, however.

"I'll tell. I'll tell," cried Pop quickly.

"I'll give you till I count three," said John. "One, two--"

"A man becomes a Son of Neptune," said George, "when he has crossed the equator on a boat. Now will you promise not to hurt me? Not that you could do it if you tried," he added, but he muttered the words so softly to himself that no one else heard him.

"Is that what a Son of Neptune is?" exclaimed John.

"Yes, String, that's what a Son of Neptune is," said George, imitating as nearly as possible his friend's tone of voice.

"Who told you?" demanded Grant.

"What has that got to do with it?"

"Who told you?" repeated Grant sharply. "We'll have to take some of this freshness out of him pretty soon, String," he added.