Curlie Carson Listens In - Part 11
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Part 11

"What?" The magnate's face became a study, then it broke into a smile.

"I like your spirit," he said seizing Curlie's hand in a viselike grip.

"You have the power of the law behind you; you need no consent of mine.

But so be it; if my son has broken the law, he shall suffer the penalty."

"There is one other matter," said Curlie soberly. "At the present moment it is merely a theory. I am unable to offer any worth-while proof for it, but it is my belief that your son and his chum, Alfred Brightwood, are considering a very perilous seaplane journey. Indeed, they may even at this moment be on their way. If that is true they should be followed at once in some swift traveling vessel, for they are almost certain to meet with disaster."

"That Brightwood boy will be the death of us all yet," exploded the father. "For sheer foolhardy daring I have never known his equal. Time and again I have attempted to persuade Vincent to give up a.s.sociating with him, but it has been of no avail. Alfred appears to hold some strange hypnotic power over him."

For a moment he stood there in silence. When he spoke he was again the sober, thoughtful business man.

"If what you say is true, and you find that they have already departed on this supposed journey, my private yacht is at your disposal. It lies in the mouth of the river at Landensport. The captain and engineer are on board. You will need no further crew. She is the fastest private engine-driven yacht afloat. If necessity demands, do not hesitate risking her destruction, but you will not, of course, endanger your own life."

"All right; then I guess everything is settled. You will wire instructions to the captain of the yacht. I must hurry to my train."

Curlie hastened from the room.

Joe was awaiting Curlie at the depot. Filled with an eager desire to know what was to be the nature of this new adventure, he could wait scarcely long enough to buy tickets, reserve sleeper berths, and to board the train before demanding full details.

The train was a trifle slow in pulling out. As he outlined the situation to Joe, Curlie kept an eye out of the window. Once he caught sight of a slight girlish figure which seemed familiar. He could not be sure, so heavily veiled was her face.

He had quite forgotten the incident when, a few hours later, he entered the diner for his evening lunch. What then was his surprise, on entering, to see Gladys Ardmore calmly seated at a table and nibbling at a bun.

She motioned him to a seat opposite her.

"You didn't expect to have me for a fellow-pa.s.senger, did you?" she smiled.

Curlie shook his head.

"Well, I didn't expect to go until the last moment. Then the professor came with the translation of the writing on the map all written out.

Father thought you should have it, so he sent me with it. I arrived just in time and decided all at once that I ought to--Oh, that I wanted--that I _must_ go with you." There was a pathetic catch in her voice that went straight to Curlie's heart.

"After all," he told himself, "he's her brother and that means a lot."

When he looked at her the next moment he discovered there the strangely determined look which was so like her father's, and which he had seen once before on her face.

"Here is the translation," she said simply as she pa.s.sed over a roll of paper. "Order your dinner; we will have plenty of time to look over the papers later."

"She's a most determined and composed little piece of humanity," was Curlie's mental comment. "I don't like her following me, but since she's here I suppose I better make the best of it!"

Had he known how far she would follow him and what adventures she was destined to share with him, he might have been tempted to wire her father to call her back. Since he did not know, he ordered meat-pie, French fried potatoes, English tea biscuits, cocoa and apple pie, then settled himself down to talk of trivial matters until the meal was over.

When at last he saw the waiter remove the girl's finger bowl, Curlie put out his hand for the paper. The hand trembled a trifle. Truth was, he was more eager than he was willing to admit to read the French teacher's translation of the writing on the back of the map.

Now as he held it in his hand one question came to the forefront in his mind: Was this photograph a reproduction of the map that had looked so much like it, the one in the great volume at the library? The translation would dear up that point.

But then it might not be, he reasoned. The book said that the original of this map had belonged to an English lord something like a hundred years ago; that it had disappeared and nothing had been heard of it since.

"The professor said," smiled the girl, a trifle anxiously, "that the writing was in very, very old Spanish and for that reason he might not have understood every word of it correctly but that taking it all in all he thought he had made the meaning clear."

"We'll have a look," said Curlie, unfolding the paper.

"He said it was the photograph of a very unusual ma.n.u.script, rare and valuable." There was something about the way the girl said this which led Curlie to guess that she might know who was in possession of the original. He was, however, too much excited over the first lines of the translation to ask her any questions.

"The Island of Lagos." He read the t.i.tle to himself. Beneath this in brackets were the words:

"Being the account of how the good ship Torence was cast ash.o.r.e on an unknown island in the midst of the great sea; an island whereon there are many barbarians having much gold."

Curlie caught his breath. Save for one word the translation was the same as that he had read in the book. That word was of no consequence.

"It's the same map!" he told himself. "The very same!"

The girl, leaning over the table, watched him eagerly. She was both excited and elated over the find.

"Isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "I think it's great! And to think that my brother and his chum were the ones who found it!"

"Haven't read it all," Curlie mumbled.

"Then read on. Read it all. Please do."

CHAPTER XI

"MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD"

Curlie, obeying her instructions, read on and with every line his conviction grew stronger that the conclusions he had come to were well formed.

This is what he read:

"Having spent Good Friday with his family, our captain, deeming further delay but loss of time, determined to cast anchor and sail for the coast of Ireland. Here he hoped to do a brisk business at barter with the peasants and fisher-folk who inhabit the sh.o.r.es.

"But Providence had determined otherwise. Hardly had we been from sh.o.r.e a half day's journey, when, without warning, from out the night there rose a great tumult. This tumult, coming as it did from the sh.o.r.e, grasped us in its mighty arms and hurled us league by league in directions that we would not go. And being exceedingly tossed with the tempest we lightened the ship. On the fourth day we, with our own hand, cast out the tackle of the ship. And when not sun nor moon nor stars had appeared for many days, we counted ourselves for lost; for, having been carried straight away these many days, we expected nothing but that we would come soon to that dark and dreadful place which is the end of all land and all seas."

"Isn't it wonderful?" whispered the girl.

Curlie was too much absorbed to answer her.

"When we had given up all hope," he read on, "Markus Laplone, a very old seaman, said we were nearing some land.

"We took soundings and found it forty fathoms. Then again it was thirty.

Then with hopeful hearts we looked for that land. But when at last it broke through the fog it was no land that any of the men had seen, no, not the oldest seaman.

"But fearing to be cast upon rocks, we kept a good watch that we might find some harbor. At last we were rewarded, for to the right of us there was a river flowing into the sea.

"The storm having somewhat abated, we took oars, such as had not been broken by the storm, and some with two men to the oar and some with but one, we made shift to enter this river; having accomplished which, we dropped anchor and gave thanks to G.o.d for the preservation of our lives.

"Now, on coming on sh.o.r.e we found this to be indeed a strange land. Not alone were the trees and all vegetation of a sort unknown to us, but the barbarians who came about us were of a complexion such as not one man of us had ever before beheld.