Chapter XXII: The Search

Toward dusk on Sunday evening, Tom, after a lazy day, having once more perused the paper bound love story which he invariably carried in his pocket, was reminded of his promise to join Jim and Juarez on shore.

He called to Jo, and, while waiting for him, let down into the long boat at the ship's side some small casks, which were to be filled with fresh water.

"When you get ashore, send the steward on board," said the professor. "It's near supper time, and he should be here."

"What did he go ashore for?" asked Tom.

"He said that he wanted to look for some kind of leaves that he wished for flavoring."

"H'm," drawled Tom. "Hope he hasn't gone to look for something to poison us with."

"What makes you so prejudiced against the steward, Tom?" asked the professor. "There isn't anything against him, except that he is a Mexican, and--"

"That's enough for one thing," asserted Tom. "I am pretty sure that he is the one that has caused all the trouble here."

"But why?" persisted the professor. "He has been my steward off and on for many years, and he has always been faithful and honest."

"Maybe he has," persisted Tom. "But still I don't trust him."

"All right, Tom," replied the professor, laughingly, "keep your eye on him, but still I think he is all right."

"I say, Tom," broke in Jo, who had climbed down into the small boat, "if you are coming you had better make a start and hurry up Berwick. It will be night before we get away. Say, what did you do with the rowlocks?"

"What would I do with them," retorted Tom. "Left them in their place, of course."

"Well, they are not there now," grumbled Jo. "How do you think we are going to row without any rowlocks?"

"What is that?" asked the professor.

"Somebody has taken the rowlocks out of the boat," complained Tom, "and Jo seems to think I did it."

"Perhaps some of the crew took them out when they were unloading it last," suggested the professor. But a hasty questioning of the men who had hoisted out the filled casks showed that they had not removed them.

"It is certainly strange," admitted the professor. "Are they all gone?"

"All of them," returned Jo, emphatically.

"Well, you will have to get some out of the storeroom," said the captain, who had been attracted by the discussion. "I think it is likely someone has taken them out and forgotten them."

"Now, then," cried Jo, when the other rowlocks had been put in. "Where's Berwick? Give him a hail, will you?"

At this instant Berwick came up the ladder from the engine room, excitedly swinging an iron bar.

"Hallo," called Tom. "What have you got there?"

"What do you think of that!" demanded Berwick as he came toward the others.

"What is it?" asked the professor.

"It is an iron bar that I found wedged in the engine," replied Berwick. "I thought I would take a look over the engine before I went ashore and I found this."

"What was it doing there?" asked the professor.

"Well, it wasn't doing anything," replied Berwick, grimly, "but if the engine had been started with that thing in it, it would have made a junk heap of the whole thing in about ten seconds."

"How did it get there?" asked Tom.

Berwick shrugged his shoulders.

"You know as much about it as I do. Whoever put it there meant mischief. If that infernal little hunchback isn't around--"

"His first cousin is," supplemented Tom, "but he has gone ashore now and I don't believe he will be back."

"Who are you talking about?" demanded Berwick.

"The steward."

"I am not quite ready to concede that," said the professor, "but I think there is a traitor aboard somewhere, and there is mischief brewing. It seems to me that the best thing to do is to get Jim and Juarez on board again until we can clear this thing up. Get over, boys, into the boat. I am going with you."

Tom ran down the ladder into the boat, followed by the professor, and in a moment the boat was speeding for the shore as fast as Tom and Jo could pull it.

"Where are your guns?" asked the professor, when they landed.

"We left them with Jim," replied Jo. "He was to bring them ashore and clean them up."

"Jim and Juarez were to be somewhere abouts but I don't see either of them," put in Tom.

"They certainly are not here now," exclaimed the professor, anxiously.

"They can't be far away," said Tom. "Wait until I give them a call. Ohe-ee! Jim! Juarez! Oho-e-e!" he shouted.

There was no response, however, to their repeated calls.

"It's strange," said the professor. "Look around and see if you can find their trails."

"Here's the guns," cried Jo, a moment later, "hid away in these bushes."

"That's queer," commented the professor, "they must have gone off somewhere, but why?"

"Here's Juarez's trail," announced Tom. "I can see, too, that he went off first and that Jim went afterward."

"Better take your guns along, boys," advised the professor. "There is no telling what we may meet."

Picking up their guns the boys started off on the trail with Tom in the lead. They had not gone very far on the way when Tom stopped and raised his hand.

"There is something or someone coming," he whispered as the others came up with him. "Get behind or into the bushes until we see who it is, or what."

Only a person with ears trained by experience in the woods would have detected the approach of someone as Tom had. There was an occasional snapping of a twig or rustling in the bushes as the coming object moved. There was an unevenness about the movements that puzzled the boys.

With his rifle cocked and ready for instant use, Tom crouched behind the bush ready for quick action if necessary. Then as the figure of someone came into view, moving slowly, and stealthily through the woods, he sprang forward.

"Hallo, Juarez," he called. "Anything the matter? Where have you been?"

"Where is Jim?" asked Juarez.

"Jim?" echoed Tom. "I don't know. Isn't he with you?"

"Then those pirates have got him!" exclaimed Juarez. "I tried to get back to warn him, but I had a fall, and it took me longer than I expected."

"Come. Sit down and tell us about it," said the professor, fixing, meanwhile a place beneath a tree, "while I see what is the matter with you. Where are you hurt?"

"It is my foot," explained Juarez. "I expect I strained it when I fell. I can hardly walk."

"Hardly!" exclaimed the professor when he examined Juarez's foot. "It's a wonder you walked at all. You have a dislocation. And your head, too?"

"Never mind that," cried Juarez. "Never mind anything. We want to get after the pirates."

"All in good time, Juarez," replied the professor. "The first thing to do is to get you into shape again, for we shall need your help. Here, Tom, you get a hold of this leg. Hold it steady, now, ready." With a little click the bone slipped back into place when the professor gave a pull and a little twist to the foot, but although Juarez's face went white, he did not utter a sound.

"Now," commanded the professor, "see if you can get some cold water, Jo, and Tom, you find something for a bandage. You'll find some sail cloth among the stuff we brought in the boat."

Tom was off in a second to return presently with a strip of cloth as Jo came up with his cap full of water. Tearing the material into strips and dipping them into the water, the professor soon had both Juarez's head and foot bandaged in a way that gave him comparative relief.

"Now," said the professor, "tell us about Jim."

Whereupon Juarez told briefly of his journey that afternoon, and how, when trying to observe the approach of some strangers, he had fallen, and then he repeated the conversation he had overheard, and told how he had tried to get back to the shore in time to warn Jim of the impending danger. All listened intently and Tom could not avoid an occasional interruption to express his opinion of the steward.

"The villain!" cried Tom between his teeth, in a tone that boded ill for the man.

"You were evidently right," the professor reluctantly admitted, "the man is a traitor."

"I hope we catch him," cried Jo.

"Come on, now," says Tom, starting up.

"Where are you going?" asked the professor.

"To help Jim. If you will stay with Juarez, Jo and I will follow up his trail," responded Tom.

This seemed feasible and wise and aided by some instructions given by Juarez they were in a measure able to make good progress. They soon came upon a place where there were evidences of a struggle, and here they carefully searched about and called loudly, but got no response.

But one inference was possible, Jim had been overpowered by a superior force and made prisoner; so they reluctantly returned to the professor with this report.

"We can't do anything more to-night," determined the professor. "It is too late. If there are enemies about under cover of darkness they have every advantage. I think our best plan would be to go back to the Storm King and make our plans for to-morrow. With a night's rest, Juarez will be in shape to help us, and we will have Berwick, too."

"But they may kill Jim before morning," objected Tom.

"I don't think there is any danger of that," replied the professor. "They would not have bothered to take him prisoner if any harm were intended. If we went on now, even if we knew what direction to take, we would only be working in the dark, literally and figuratively. We will have to reconnoitre a little first and plan accordingly."

"I don't know but what you are right," admitted Tom, very reluctantly, "but it doesn't seem the right thing to do to leave Jim that way."

"Festina lenta, Tom," rejoined the professor. "You remember the old proverb, 'Make haste slowly.' We'll do more by not trying to do things too quickly. We will go back and get ready for to-morrow."

"What do you know about this Captain Beauchamp, who is evidently the commander of the Marjorie?" Jo inquired.

"He is a buccaneer, a pirate and a slave to do the bidding of anyone who will pay for his service. Still he has the reputation for dealing fairly and is far more likely to hold Jim as hostage for ransom or other advantage than to do him bodily harm."

"Have you ever had dealings with the captain?"

"No. I have never seen him. Know of him only by hearsay. He is rather well educated, and, I hear, sometimes speaks with a southern drawl, but he even varies that to suit himself."

"I shall be better satisfied when I know Jim is safe," concluded Jo.

"Indeed we all shall," said the professor, and addressing Juarez, "What do you make out about the natives, whom you observed as you were coming down the cliff side?"

"I knew that they were natives by their dress, or lack of it," said Juarez. "They had but very little clothing on, and I believe that two of the party were ill, for the other four at times assisted their comrades."

"Likely you were right," asserted the professor. "Probably it was a pilgrimage to the sulphur spring."

With occasional help and the aid of a stick which Jo cut to a proper length and fashioned in the form of a crutch, Juarez was able to get back to the boat with comparative ease, and they were soon rowing toward the yacht.

Arriving on board they found that the steward had not yet returned.

"A good thing for him," asserted Tom. An opinion which no one could gainsay.

"Now, boys," advised the professor when a late supper had been eaten and a short consultation had been held, "you had better get off to your bunks. Even if you don't feel inclined to sleep, you will get some needed rest, and that is important, as we are likely to have a hard day's work ahead of us for to-morrow."