The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner Part 18

"As ve stoodt dere annuder big vave come sweeping ofer undt half drowned us. A big rock just missed mein headt, undt der vater go pouring down der stairs like a cascade.

"'Ve must go pelow undt shut der door at der bottom of der stairs,' I say; 'uddervise ve pe drowned oudt.'

"Der oldt man nodded as if he only half understoodt.

"'Yah, yah; drowned, drowned, drowned,' he saidt to himself; 'drowned like der poor folk on der wreck.'

"I got him down der stairs pefore annuder big vave come, undt den shut der door so dot no more big vaves come into der room. Budt der place vos a sight! Dere vos six inches of vater in dere vich hadn't flowed oudt unter der door. Budt liddle by liddle idt drained oudt.

"No more big vaves come. Idt look as if der storm, hafing wrecked der lighdthouse, vos content to lie down undt pe quiet for a vhile. Bimeby, ven der vind drop, I go out py der boiler house.

"Idt hadt gone! Vere idt hadt stood dere vos nudding! Dose vaves hadt taken idt off der rock as if idt hadt been a sh.e.l.lfis.h.!.+

"'Ach, dis is badt,' I say to meinself. 'Der lighdthouse is wrecked undt I lose my yob!'

"Der storm died down fast, undt py der time idt vos daylighdt, dere being nuddings to do budt to sit round undt vait for der supply boat to come back, I dropped off into a soundt sleep. I vakened oop an hour or two later. Der kitchen vere ve hadt been sitting vos empty. I vent up into der ruins of der lamp, budt oldt man Abbott vos not dere eidder.

"I call for him budt dere comes no answer. Den I go oudtside on der rock undt I findt him. He is lying very still on der edge of der vater. Close py him is a big log vich look like part of der spar of a s.h.i.+p. Preddy soon I see dat dere is someting on der spar, undt I look undt see dot idt is a man. He is quite dead, dat I see by a look adt his face.

"Den I look again. Undt den I see vy oldt man Abbott lies so still on der edge of der rock. Der face of der man on der spar vos der face of his son Harry! Undt oldt man Abbott is deadt.

"Der s.h.i.+p dot der oldt man, in some mysterious vay, heardt drive to her death on der rocks, vos his son's s.h.i.+p, der vun on vich he vos making his homevard voyage. Vell, for a day I stay on der rock midt der dead fadder undt der deadt son, undt den der relief s.h.i.+p come. Dey bury der oldt man undt der boy side py side der next day, undt I leave dot part of der country; undt since den I nefer see a lighdthouse budt I d.i.n.k of oldt man Abbott undt der homevard bound son he never saw."

Not long after the conclusion of the old sailor's story, which left him glum and taciturn, the white spiral of the Sombrero Island Light came into view, sticking up like a finger on the sandy islet whose name it bore. As they drew closer, Jack could make out a solitary figure on the beach. It was the light keeper, who was soon greeting them with heartfelt grat.i.tude. He was probably a young man, but the anxiety he had been through had aged him in a few nights.

While the sailors were unloading the provisions and water, for drinking water on that desolate island could only be caught in tanks when it rained, Jack visited the other light keeper. He found him much better than he had been when the wireless message was sent out. In fact, after some of the remedies Dr. Flynn had sent had been administered, he declared he would be strong enough to go about his duty that night.

The light keepers explained that they were doubly anxious for a sight of the relief s.h.i.+p, for her appearance meant that they would go on a month's vacation, their places to be taken by two other men the relief craft was bringing out. Before they left the island, Jack had the satisfaction of spying a distant sail on the horizon. The light keeper, who was up and about, scrutinized it through his gla.s.s. He broke into an exclamation of thankfulness the next minute.

"It's the old _Solitaire_, sure enough!" he cried. "She must have been delayed by storms."

"Looks as if one of der top masdts, idt has been carried avay," declared Schultz, who had borrowed the gla.s.s.

"Is the _Solitaire_ the relief s.h.i.+p?" asked Jack.

"Yes; the same old schooner that always comes. Oh, won't Barney be glad!

It'll be better to him than medicine." And the keeper of the light ran toward the tower to tell his companion the good news.

And so, as they rowed back to the s.h.i.+p, they left the light keepers happy, but nevertheless old Schultz shook his head as he spoke of them.

"Aber, I'd radder pe a sea-cook dan a keeper py a lighdthouse," he said with deep conviction; and added, nodding his head solemnly, "I know."

CHAPTER XXII

A DECOY MESSAGE

The following days pa.s.sed quickly and pleasantly. The friends.h.i.+p between De Garros and Jack ripened, being nourished, of course, by their mutual interest in wireless, of which De Garros was a capable exponent. He did not revert again to the subject of any previous acquaintance with Jarrold and his niece and, seeing his reticence concerning it, Jack avoided the topic.

At last Jamaica was sighted on the horizon. Some hours later they were steaming through a deep blue sea along brilliantly green sh.o.r.es, above which rose rugged peaks and mountains. Jack and Sam gazed with delight at the scene as it unrolled.

The big steamer slowly rounded the long, sandy arm of Port Royal and took on the black pilot. Then she proceeded up the harbor, following a twisted, tortuous channel, past mangrove swamps, ruined batteries and rankly growing royal palms.

As soon as the s.h.i.+p had docked, Jack and Sam both received leave to go ash.o.r.e. As may be imagined, they did not waste much time on preparations, but were on the deck almost as soon as the gang-plank was down. Most of the pa.s.sengers followed their example, and as but few of the s.h.i.+p's company were leaving the _Tropic Queen_ at Kingston, the quaint town, with its cement stores and hotels, its dusty streets and swarming negroes, was soon thronged with sightseers.

Jack and Sam chartered one of the hacks that are everywhere present in the town, and ordered the driver to show them about the city. They found that while the main town was businesslike and substantial with its concrete structures and stores, the back streets still showed abundant evidences of the earthquake, which some years ago shook down most of the city and caused a tremendous loss of life.

Some of the houses looked as if they had been sh.e.l.l-ridden. The roofs had fallen in, showing the bare rafters. Walls were cracked, and in some places the entire front was out of a house, revealing the interior of the bare rooms.

"I don't see very much that is interesting here," said Jack at length.

"Suppose we go back to the hotel that was recommended to us?"

"I'm agreeable," said Sam. "So far, my chief impression of Kingston is dust and noisy n.i.g.g.e.rs."

The order was given to the black driver, and they were soon rolling back to the hotel that Jack had mentioned. It was a picturesque structure in the Spanish style of architecture, which harmonized well with the tropic gardens surrounding it. Pa.s.sing through the lobby, where they stopped to buy postcards, the boys found themselves in a palm grove facing the blue waters of the harbor.

A delightful breeze rustled through the palms and the boys contentedly threw themselves into chairs and ordered two lemonades. They sipped them slowly while they enjoyed the view and the shade. Many others from the s.h.i.+p had found their way there, too. Among them was Colonel Minturn with a party of friends.

He pa.s.sed the boys with a friendly nod. He had hardly gone by, when Jack, who had happened to look around, gave a start.

Standing behind a palm and watching the Minturn party intently, was Jarrold. The trunk of the tree afforded him ample protection from the observation of the man he was watching with an unwavering scrutiny.

Apparently he had not seen the boys. Jack nudged Sam and gave him a whispered warning not to turn around.

"Jarrold is there, watching Colonel Minturn. He is plotting some mischief. I am sure of it."

"Wherever he is, there is trouble," agreed Sam.

"That's just where you are right," replied Jack.

"Is his pretty niece with him?" inquired Jack's companion.

"I don't see her. By the way, I wonder where De Garros met them. Queer that, although they know each other, as De Garros admits, they never speak."

"They probably met abroad somewhere," hazarded Sam.

"I suppose so," was the reply, and then the talk drifted to other subjects. But Jack had s.h.i.+fted his chair so as to watch Jarrold without appearing to do so. Before long, the man turned and strolled in the direction of a terrace which opened on the palm garden.

Jack half rose from his chair as if he intended to follow him.

"What's the trouble?" asked Sam.

"I don't mean to let Jarrold out of my sight, that's all," said Jack.

"But look! He has stopped. He is talking to someone. That chap in a sun helmet. I can't see his face, but somehow he looks mighty familiar to me."

The young man who had joined Jarrold strolled along the terrace with him till they both found chairs. Then they sat down and seemed to be engaged in earnest conversation. The stranger, who yet seemed familiar to Jack, had his back turned to them so that it was impossible to see his features.