Before they retired for the night, the boys talked the situation over once more.
“I don’t see why we can’t make a break for it,” grumbled Randy. “We can wait until about two or three o’clock in the morning. Nearly everybody will be sound asleep by that time, and we could steal to the stern and get to the motor boat by the cable without half trying.”
“Yes! But how about grub?” questioned Fred.
“And how about gasoline?” put in Ralph. “We couldn’t run very long on the supply that was left when we were captured. We were running mighty low, and I was afraid we would go short before we got out of the fog.”
“You’ve got to remember one thing,” observed Spouter. “If they found us trying to steal away in the darkness, they’d have no mercy on us. They’d probably handcuff us and throw us in the ship’s brig and feed us the poorest food they have on board.”
“Yes, and they’d probably steal everything we’ve got in the bargain,” came from Gif.
In the end they resolved to take Ira Small’s advice and wait at least another day.
All of the other lads had listened with interest to what Jack had told them about the lanky sailor’s yarn of thirteen rocks and the pirates’ hidden gold.
“It might not be such a fairy tale as you think,” said Fred. “If you’ll remember, the pirates of years gone by hid lots of gold and other treasure on out-of-the-way islands of the West Indies.”
“Yes, but that was a good many years ago,” answered Jack.
“I don’t care. I was reading in a newspaper only a short while ago about a hunt being made along the South American coast for a treasure said to have been secreted there by one of the notorious buccaneers.”
“Oh, we’ve all read such yarns,” put in Gif. “There may be some pirates’ gold somewhere. But I’ll wager it’s so well hidden it will never be brought to light. Why, folks have been digging for Captain Kidd’s gold ever since I can remember.”
“I wonder what he means by thirteen rocks?” mused Andy.
“There must be thirteen rocks around the place—maybe pointed ones,” said Jack.
“In that case, if I ever get down to the West Indies I’m going to keep my eyes open for the lucky thirteen,” grinned Randy.
The sea air made the boys drowsy, and although several of them thought to keep awake, almost before they knew it each of them was sound asleep. Nor did any of them rouse up until the golden sun was peeping up over the eastern rim of the ocean.
“Gosh, what a disagreeable smell around here!” muttered Gif, as he arose and stretched himself. “It makes my head ache.”
“That’s funny. I’ve got a headache myself,” replied Jack, who sat on the edge of one of the rough bunks, rubbing his eyes. “I feel just as if I’d been in a swing, or something like that.”
“Maybe we’re getting seasick,” came dismally from Fred. He, too, had just arisen, and his face was unusually pale while he seemed to breathe with difficulty.
“Say, Fred, you certainly look odd!” cried Jack. “Do you really think you’re getting seasick?”
“I don’t know,” was the slow response from the youngest Rover. “I never felt so queer in my life,” he went on, as he took a few staggering steps around the forecastle. “Guess I need a little fresh air. It’s dreadfully close in here.”
“It can’t be so very late,” said Ralph. He felt for his watch, and then uttered an exclamation. “My watch is gone!” He thrust his hands into his pockets. “My money is gone, too, and so are my keys! Everything is gone!”
Jack and the others gazed at Ralph in astonishment. Then simultaneously they felt in their own pockets.
“My watch is gone too!”
“So is mine!”
“My diamond scarf pin is gone!”
“So is my ruby ring!”
“I’m cleaned out of everything!”
“Gee, fellows! they’ve robbed us!” groaned Randy. “They took everything we carried while we were asleep.”
“How could they do that without some of us waking up?” questioned Spouter. “We don’t all sleep like logs at once, do we?”
“I’ve got it!” exclaimed Jack. “Don’t you remember that funny smell we noticed when we first awoke? I’ll bet five dollars to a cent they drugged us!”
“That’s it!” broke in Ralph, eagerly. “Sure they did! That’s the smell of chloroform. I know, for we used it once when dad chloroformed our old sick cat.”
The others felt that their chum was right, and everybody boiled with indignation over this new indignity that had been heaped upon them.
“I wish I had a shotgun—I’d show them a thing or two!” cried Jack, his eyes blazing wrathfully. “Captain Gilsen and his gang are nothing but a bunch of pirates!”
“Maybe the captain didn’t do it. This may be the work of Ferguson or Letts, or some of the others,” remarked Spouter.
But the others could not agree with this. They were of the opinion that the theft had been committed by those in authority on board the craft. Nevertheless, they took it upon themselves to question several of the sailors who were just arising.
“I ain’t got any of your stuff, Buddy,” growled one of the men. “And don’t you say I have, either, or I’ll knock your block off,” and he glared wickedly at the boys.
“If you’ve been robbed, go to the cap’n with your yarn,” said another.
“I will go to the captain!” returned Jack. “I’m not going to stand for any such treatment any longer!”
“And I’m with you!” broke in Randy. “Come on, let’s arm ourselves!”
The boys were thoroughly aroused, and each looked around the forecastle for something which might be used as a weapon.
“Take my advice and go slow, you kids,” growled one of the sailors. “The cap’n and Ferguson and Letts go well heeled, and they’d jest as lief fill you full of holes as not. You’ve seen a little roughness so far, but you haven’t seen nothin’ of what might happen if you got those men worked up. The cap’n won’t stop at nothin’ when he’s roused up.”
Nevertheless, the boys left the forecastle, each armed with a stick or a spike, or whatever came to hand.
Just as they came on deck they ran into Ira Small. The lanky sailor looked at the weapons they carried, and then shook his head dubiously.
“Don’t you do it. Throw them clubs away,” he whispered hoarsely. “If you start a fight you’ll git the worst of it and spile everything. Take a meek-like way. Pretend you ain’t got no backbone—that you’re scared stiff—and then maybe we’ll git a chance to outwit ’em. I know how I can git some grub and the gasoline you want,” he went on impressively. Then, as he saw the mate approaching, he hurried back to where he had been busy coiling up some ropes.
“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded the mate, coming to a halt and eyeing the clubs and other things the boys carried.
“We were robbed last night, and we want to know who did it,” answered Jack, coldly.
“Robbed! What do you mean?” and the mate tried to put on an air of innocence.
“While we were asleep our watches, money and everything else was taken away from us,” said Randy.
“I don’t know anything about that,” replied the mate. “But you listen to me,” he went on sternly. “Drop those things, or it’ll be the worse for you.”
“I want to talk to Captain Gilsen and to that fellow Ferguson,” said Jack.
“They’re both asleep. You can’t see ’em.”
Some bitter words followed, and it was all the boys could do to keep themselves from pouncing upon the mate and giving him the thrashing they felt he deserved. In the midst of the talking, Captain Gilsen and Ferguson appeared, each carrying a pistol.
“You boys get forward and stay there, and no more nonsense!” roared the captain, when they had again mentioned the robbery. “If I hear another word out of you, I’ll put you in the brig.”
“Oh, dear, this is dreadful!” exclaimed Andy, and suddenly burst out crying, much to the amazement of the others. But when he had his back turned on the captain and the other enemies, he winked at his twin and at Fred.
“Cry!” he whispered. “Cry for all you’re worth! Make ’em think we’re licked bad. Then they won’t watch us.”
Catching the cue, Fred began to blubber, and Randy followed suit. At first the others were amazed, but then they saw through the trick, and all suddenly looked glum.
“It ain’t fair,” whined Jack, in tearful tones. “It ain’t fair at all, Captain Gilsen. I think you ought to let us go.”
“I want to go home!” groaned Gif. “I want to go home!”
“We didn’t do anything to you,” said Spouter, mournfully.
“Some day you’ll catch it! You see if you don’t!” bewailed Ralph, and the seven boys retreated slowly to the forward deck of the Hildegarde, acting as if thoroughly cowed.
“I reckon they’ve learned their little lesson,” was Captain Gilsen’s comment. “I thought I could break ’em sooner or later. I’ll bet in another day they’ll be willing to eat out of my hand.”
“I’ve got another scheme,” said Ferguson, a few minutes later, when the boys were out of hearing. “Perhaps we can make a barrel of money out of this.”
“How so?”
“It looks to me as if those boys came from pretty wealthy families. They wear good clothes and they all had fine jewelry and plenty of spendin’ money. Don’t you think their folks would pay a good price to have the boys back home safe and sound?”
“You mean hold them for a ransom, Bill?”
“Why not? That has been done before, and folks have paid handsome, too.”
“Humph! I hadn’t thought of that, but it might be worth considering,” answered the captain of the Hildegarde, pulling meditatively at his moustache.
“It would be a dead easy thing to do,” continued Ferguson. “We could sail the schooner over to one o’ those little islands where nobody lives and git ’em to sign letters askin’ their folks to pay up to have ’em released. Why, say, Cap’n, we might make thousands of dollars out of it—a good deal more’n we ever made out o’ the liquor business.”
“Yes, but think of the risk we’d be running. It’s a big crime to kidnap people like that.”
“Well, look at the risk we run gettin’ liquor into the States. Some day those revenue cutters will open fire on us and maybe blow us to pieces.”
“Let’s find out a little more about the boys,” said Captain Gilsen, after a moment’s thought. “If their folks are real well off, it might pay to do as you say. I think the crew will stand for it all right enough, and I know Letts would be all right—he’s been mixed up in half-a-dozen shady transactions.”
“Why, say! just look at what we might make out of it,” cried Ferguson, his eyes glistening greedily. “If we got only ten thousand dollars for the safe delivery of each boy, that would amount to seventy thousand dollars!”
“Humph! If their folks are really wealthy, perhaps we can get two or three times that amount out of ’em, Bill,” returned the captain, tugging on his moustache more fiercely than ever. “If we go into this at all, we might as well do it right. Of course, we’d run a big risk, but a hundred thousand dollars—or maybe two hundred thousand—isn’t to be sneezed at.”