"Dat's de talk!" muttered Old Ben, as he eyed St. John darkly. "Ma.s.sah Jack's as good as dat coward any day!"

"As you please, doctor; but I shall hold to my opinion."

Dr. Mackey shrugged his shoulders.

"You have that right. Come, Ben, we will be on the way. Mr. Ruthven, allow me to bid you good-day," and the doctor bowed stiffly.

"Good-day," was the curt response.

Soon the surgeon and Old Ben were in the boat, and the negro was rowing swiftly in the direction of the wreck. St. John walked up the sh.o.r.e, but presently turned to view the doctor from a distance.

"He talks as if he knew a thing or two," muttered the spendthrift to himself. "Can it be possible that he knows something of the past, and is going out to the wreck for a purpose?"

CHAPTER X.

THE PAPERS ON THE WRECK.

As the waters of the bay were quiet, it did not take Ben long to row Dr.

Mackey over to the wreck on the rocks.

"Be careful how you steps out, sah," said the colored man. "De rocks am slippery, an' you kin twist an ankle widout half tryin', sah."

"I will be careful, Ben. So this is the wreck?"

"Yes, sah."

"I presume all that was movable in the ship has been carried off?"

"Long ago, sah."

"But the inside of the ship itself was not torn out?"

"No, sah. De folks around yeah is too afraid ob ghosteses fo' dat."

"Ah, yes! so I heard--at least, I would suppose so," replied the doctor, in some confusion. "By the way, you need not remain here. I will visit the wreck alone. You can come back in an hour or so."

"Wery well, ma.s.sah."

"But don't forget to come back. I don't want to be left here all night."

"Don't worry, sah; I'll be back fo' dat dollah, sah," and Ben grinned.

"Oh, yes! I forgot about the dollar. Well, you shall have it when you take me back to sh.o.r.e."

The doctor walked slowly toward the wreck, glancing back several times to see if Old Ben was following him.

The colored man rowed away in a thoughtful mood.

"Somet'ing is on dat man's mind, suah!" he muttered to himself. "He's gwine ter do somet'ing."

With difficulty the surgeon climbed up to the deck of the wreck. A desolate spectacle presented itself. Everything was charred by the fire.

"Truly a nice place to come to," said the man to himself. "Now, supposing this thing turns out a wild-goose chase, after all? Let me see, the stateroom was No. 15. I wonder if I can still locate it?"

With caution he descended the companion way and entered the main cabin of the stranded vessel. Here he drew from his pocket a candle and lit it.

He walked slowly toward the side of the cabin until he reached a stateroom bearing the number 7 upon the door.

"Seven," he murmured. "And the second from this is eleven. That shows the numbers on this side are all odd. The next must be thirteen, and the next fifteen."

He held the candle to the door, but the number plate was gone. Without hesitation he pushed upon the door, which was already partly open. It fell back, exposing the interior of the stateroom, now bare of all things movable, and covered with dust and cobwebs.

"A dirty job this," he murmured, and set the candle down upon a beam running along the side of a wall. He gazed around the stateroom curiously, as if hardly knowing what to do next.

"The little closet was set in the wall at the foot of the bed. Now which was the foot of the bed? I'll try both ends." He did so, tapping on the woodwork with his knuckles. Presently he found a hole where there had once been a small k.n.o.b.

"The closet, sure enough!" he cried, and his face took on a new interest. "Now where is that door-k.n.o.b?"

He hunted on the floor, but no k.n.o.b came to view. But a bent nail was handy, and this he inserted into the hole sideways, and pulled with all his force. There was a slight creak, and a small door came open, revealing a dark closet about a foot square and equally deep.

If the room was dirty the closet was more so, for a crack at the top had let in both dirt and water, and at first he could see nothing but a solid cake of dirt before him. Digging into this, he presently uncovered a heavy tin box, painted black.

"Eureka! the box at last!" he cried, in a tone full of pleasure. "I am the lucky one, after all!"

He brought the tin box forth and brushed it off. There was a little padlock in front, and this was locked. Bringing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he began to try them, one after another. At last he found one to fit, and opened the box.

"The papers at last!" he murmured, and his eyes gleamed with expectation. "Let me see what there is." He turned them over. "The marriage certificate for one, and letters from his father about that property. And other letters from her folks--all here, and just what I wanted." He shoved the doc.u.ments back into the box. "The fortune is mine!"

Returning to the closet he cleaned it out thoroughly, to learn if it contained anything more of value. But there was nothing more there, and presently he blew out the candle, hid the tin box under his coat, and returned to the deck.

Ben was rowing not far away and saw the doctor wave his hand.

"Is yo' ready, ma.s.sah?" he called out.

"Yes, Ben."

The colored man said no more, but rowed insh.o.r.e, and in the meantime the doctor hurried down to meet him.

"Did you find any gold, ma.s.sah?" asked the colored man, his white teeth gleaming.

"Gold! Why, you foolish n.i.g.g.e.r, what chance is there of finding gold on a wreck over ten years old? The best thing you can do is to break the boat to pieces and take the wood ash.o.r.e for fuel."

"But de ghosteses, ma.s.sah! Besides, Mrs. Ruthven wouldn't let us touch dat wrack nohow."

"On account of the boy, I suppose."