Chapter XIV: The Pursuit

The morning of the third day was an epoch in the lives of the passengers on board the Storm King, for a passing vessel was signaled. It hove to, and the captain quite willingly accepted as passengers to his next port of call, San Francisco, the Senor and his daughter.

It is needless to say that Jim gazed long and intently after the Lotus which bore away the Senorita and her father, and equally long and intently, although Jim did not know it, did the young lady watch the Storm King until it had become but a speck on the horizon.

For several hours Jim was seen no more on deck, and many a merry quip was bandied at his expense. What Jim was doing will appear later.

"It is certainly out of the ordinary," admitted Becket. He had just come aft to where the professor was consulting with Jo and Tom. They had been discussing the action of the Marjorie, the ship which had taken its departure from San Francisco on the same day and very hour that they had sailed, and which had again been sighted when they left San Matteo. She was trailing about a mile astern of them, and here it was the third day since they had sailed.

"She has been following us right along," observed Tom. "Do you think she is going the same way we are?"

"A man might be justified in thinking so," replied Berwick, dryly.

"I mean," corrected Tom, "to the island?"

"I don't know what to think," admitted the professor, "but I don't like it somehow."

"It is queer," reiterated the engineer.

"Let us run away from him," suggested Jim, who now joined them.

"I have tried to outsail him, but it's no use," returned the captain. "She is burning up the coal, yet only traveling as fast as we do under sail."

"Suppose we try again and see if she is really following us."

"Let us radically change our course, captain, and see if they follow us," said the professor.

"That isn't a bad idea," agreed the captain. "It won't do any harm to try it. We will have her head put due west. I see that we are running about S. S. W. now. If they change their course it will be pretty conclusive evidence that it is purpose and not chance that keeps them in our wake."

"Mr. Berwick," said the professor, "the wind is light and fitful, suppose we add steam to our propelling force. Give us all the speed you can, and we will see if we can't shake them off."

"All right, sir," replied the engineer, going toward the engine room. "I will do my very best to get all the speed there is in her."

An hour later the throbbing of the engine, as the pressure was gradually increased, was felt throughout the vessel. Like a spirited steed with a bit in her teeth, and at the snap of the whip the vessel darted forward, plunging through the long rolling waves, and leaving behind her a white wake that curved like a bow as her prow was turned to the west.

The group on the after deck of the Storm King watched with interest the course of the other vessel, which was now being rapidly distanced, would pursue.

"Hurrah!" cried Tom. "We are leaving her behind."

"But she is getting up more steam," observed Jo, as a thickening volume of smoke poured from her funnel.

"She is following us, too," cried Tom a little later. "She evidently likes company."

It was evident from the change in her course that the Marjorie was bent on keeping near the Storm King.

"She is just like some people," went on Tom. "She doesn't wait for an invitation, she is coming along, too."

The Storm King, under a full head of steam was rolling off the knots, and increasing the distance from the Marjorie.

"If we can keep this up," said Tom, joyfully, "she will soon be hull down."

"If we had a nigger to put on the safety valve," said the professor.

"A nigger on the safety valve," questioned Tom, "I don't understand."

"Why they say that on the Mississippi river when they have a race on, they put a negro on the safety valve to keep it down when the pressure gets so high as to blow it off at the regular set weight."

"But that must be dangerous," objected Tom.

"Of course, it is," laughed the professor, "but nobody cared for danger where there was a race on."

But in the meantime the Marjorie was once more picking up the distance and growing more distinct. For three or more hours the race went on, but the Marjorie regained and then maintained her relative distance, and the professor reluctantly directed the captain to slow down.

"It is no use," he said. "We cannot shake her off that way. We might as well resume our regular course."

The following morning the same conditions were found to prevail. The distance between the boats seemingly never changed.

"She is a good boat and jolly well sailed, don't you know," remarked the mate, who was a typical English sailor.

"What is that flag for?" asked Tom suddenly.

"What flag is that?" asked the captain in return.

"Why, that one there," replied Tom, pointing to a square of red bunting flying from a davit of their own ship.

"That," laughed the captain. "Well, you ought to know better than I do."

"Why?" asked Tom.

"Really," said the captain, "didn't some of you boys put it there?"

"Why, of course not," disclaimed Tom. "I thought maybe it was some kind of a signal."

"Well, I'll be blowed," exploded the captain, "if I didn't think you did it for a lark."

"There is one like it on the Marjorie," said Jim, who was using the binocular.

"Well, what do you think of that!" burst out the captain.

"What does it mean?" asked Tom.

"It means that someone on board is exchanging signals with the Marjorie," replied the professor.

"I wish I could catch them at it," muttered the captain, grimly.

"Let us take turns in watching," suggested Jim.

"I am going to do a little watching on my own account," growled the captain, making a dash for the supposed signal.

"Don't pull it down," advised the professor, "perhaps we can see who puts them up."

"I think you are right."

"They are doing some kind of signaling on the Marjorie now," went on Jim. "I can see some one waving a flag."

"There isn't anyone here who could see it," said the captain, looking over the deck. "Let me have a look," taking the glass. "There is some kind of signaling going on, but who can it be to?" Jo walked quietly to the stern of the boat, and leaning over the rail looked down. The stern windows of the cabin afforded a view of the pursuing vessel, and where the signals could be observed, but he could not see if anyone was there.

Something did attract his attention, however, though it only impressed itself on his mind as an odd chance. A keg was floating in the wake of the Storm King, but most unusual things are sometimes seen on the surface of the ocean, hundreds of miles from land.

"Perhaps there is someone in the cabin," he suggested, as he came back to where the captain was standing.

"By jove!" gasped the captain, making a dash for the companion way, "I believe you have it."

At this moment the steward came on deck.

"See here!" roared the captain, "What is the meaning of this?"

The steward smiled complacently, and said, "Why, sir, I know nothing about the flag. I have finished my tasks in the pantry, and came on deck for a breath of air."

The captain, debating the matter in his mind, concluded he would say no more at that time, and turned his attention again to the others. The steward went about his duties.

"They have quit signaling," reported Tom.

"What do you make of that other ship's continued interest in us, captain?" asked the professor.

"I'm blessed if I know," he replied. "It's too deep for me. They have been following us ever since we left the bay, and I'm blessed if I don't think they are after us. But I cannot imagine for what purpose."

"I suspect," said the professor, "that they have some knowledge of the fact that we are after a treasure."

"Oh," said the captain, "but they can't expect to keep us under observation for a long trip like this. It would be ridiculous."

"What they want most likely is the chart. Only with its aid can anyone locate the island or the treasure."

The captain sat for a few moments in thought. "There must have been somebody on board getting the signals. Now who could it be?"

"One of the crew," suggested Tom.

"Quite likely," agreed the captain, "unless--"

"What?" said the professor.

"It was the steward."

"No," said the professor. "You can leave him out. He has been with me for years."

"All the more reason," returned the captain. "He'll jolly well stand watching. What we have got to do is to watch out, and perhaps we can trap them."

"I think--" he added. With a sudden thought he got up and went to the companion way, returning slowly to his seat. "I may have a clue."

"What is it?" cried Tom.

"It is only an idea, don't you know, and I won't say anything until I work it out. You say the chart is aboard?"

"Yes."

The captain whistled softly for a minute. "Better put it away somewhere."

"That has already been done," admitted the professor, looking at the boys. "It is hidden away, and I don't think anyone can find it."

"Even if they could find it, how could they get away with it?" inquired Tom.

"That's easily done," explained the captain, "when they find it."

"When!" interrupted Tom.

"Maybe only a matter of days," returned the captain. "They will signal to the other ship, put it in a keg, drop it over and the others will pick it up."

"A keg," queried Jo. "I saw a keg floating in the wake of our ship just a little while ago."