Young Hunters in Porto Rico: or, The Search for a Lost Treasure

CHAPTER XXXII

WHAT BECAME OF DICK

"Where on earth, or under the earth, am I now?"

It was Dick who uttered the remark, as he crawled out of the stream, and sat down on a slippery and slimy rock.

The tumble over the ledge had been broken by a fall into the underground stream, and he had been hurled along by the current for a distance of fully two hundred feet.

He had felt that he was drowning and could hold his breath no longer, when he had shot up into pitch dark space, and climbed onto the rock mentioned.

He was almost exhausted, and for several minutes could do little but pant and hold on.

He had not the slightest idea where he was, saving that he had reached some lower shaft of the gigantic cave.

His companions must be above him, but how far, there was no telling.

His heart sank within his breast and he felt like giving himself up for lost.

"I can't swim back," he thought, as he remembered how that mad current had hurled him onward.

Ten minutes passed. He felt around for his torch, but it was nowhere within reach.

Then he got a firmer hold on the rock with one hand, while with the other he pulled a match-safe from his pocket.

Luckily the safe was a water-proof one, and the contents were, therefore, dry. Soon he had a lucifer lit, and by its tiny light he sprang to the shore of the stream.

There were some odds and ends of driftwood there – grass and bits of tree twigs – and of these he made a little fire. Then he bethought himself and set up a yell.

But as we know, his cries were not heard, and no answering call came back. The only sound that broke the stillness was that of the water as it took a plunge downward at one end of the opening he had entered.

"I guess I'm in a trap," he muttered. "But I must get out somehow. Oh, God, help me to get out!"

The prayer was repeated over and over again, and at last the boy grew calmer. Then he took the flaring driftwood in his hands and set out on a tour of inspection.

The chamber he had entered was not over twenty feet wide by three times as long. To one side the roof sloped downward, and here there appeared to be another opening, running to some higher level.

"Anyway to get out," thought Dick, and scrambled up the slope. It was rough, and more than once he went down; but he picked himself up quickly and went on.

The upper chamber gained, the youth saw before him a long and winding gallery, moving gradually to a still higher level. Should he follow this?

Again he prayed for Divine aid, and then went on, over loose rocks and across ugly cracks. The driftwood had nearly burnt itself out, and his fingers were blistered in several places from holding it. Soon he would be in darkness again, and what should he do, then? He looked around for something more that might be lighted, but nothing showed itself.

On and on, and still on, following one turn after another. Now the driftwood had flickered down to the last dead twig. He tried to save the tiny flame – but with a flicker it went out – and all became as black as night around him – yes, even blacker than night.

He sank down on a rock, almost stunned. All of the stories of people lost in caves and coal mines that he had ever heard about, crossed his mind – how they had wandered about for days without food and drink and light, to be found at last either dead or jibbering idiots. He felt that it would not take much to turn him crazy.

How long he remained on the rock he could never tell. At last, like one in a dream, he got up and ran – ran as hard as he could, as though a legion of demons were after him – along one rocky wall and another. His outstretched hands and good fortune saved him from many a nasty bump, and thus fully a mile was covered, when he fell down so exhausted he could not go another step.

"I'm buried alive!" he cried aloud; and a thousand echoes answered him: "Buried alive – alive – alive!" Then a strange vision came to him of untold horrors – snakes, demons, falling rocks and great torrents of water – and he fell flat in terror, and fainted.

When Dick came to his senses he leaped up, then sank back exhausted. Clearly he was out of his mind – for he thought that he was in a beautiful palace, and that a fairy of gold was dancing before him. Then the fairy seemed to motion him to come on, and he moved along slowly and painfully for fully a quarter of a mile. Presently the vision left him, and he sank down once again, only to get up when he was able, and run, he knew not where.

Ha! what was that? a light, or only another hallucination? No, no, it was a light – a spot of sunshine, streaming in from some opening overhead. He gave a shout of joy. Oh, to be free once more! Never, never, would he enter that cave again.

It was some time before he could locate the opening. Then to get to it was difficult. But the light gave him a superhuman strength, and up he went, over one rock after another, climbing a height that would have made him dizzy had he been able to see his way.

At last the opening was gained. It lay between two immense rocks, and he had all he could do to squeeze through. When he came into the outer air, the first thing that he noticed was that the sun was rising, not setting. He had been underground all night!

He looked at himself. He was thoroughly soaked, and covered with mud and a sort of soot. His face and hands were as dirty as his clothing.

"But I don't care," he murmured, half aloud. "Thank God I am safe! Oh, what an adventure that was!"

Not far away was a mountain spring, and here Dick got a drink, and then washed himself. He had no idea in what direction the camp lay.

"I wonder what the others thought when I disappeared," he mused. "I'll wager they felt pretty bad, Bob especially. Won't they be surprised to see me safe and sound!"

He was close to the very top of the mountain, and resolved to make a circle around the summit and see if he could not locate the camp.

Travelling here was easy, for the bushes grew but scatteringly, and there were hardly any trees. Presently he reached a slight eminence, and from this point made out the smoke of a camp-fire.

"That must be our camp," he said to himself, and struck off in the direction. Soon he was in the midst of the jungle, but managed to keep a straight course. Now his scare was over, he felt very hungry, but could not bring himself to stop for anything to eat.

"Danny shall supply me," was his thought. "I know he'll be only too glad to give me the best on hand."

The jungle passed, he came to a small clearing overlooking a deep valley. The camp-fire was just ahead. Not a soul was in sight.

"Have they gone on a hunt for me?" he mused, when of a sudden a man leaped upon him and bore him to the ground with ease. The man was Joseph Farvel.

"Turn about is fair play, I reckon," growled the rascal. "Didn't expect to run across me, did you?"

"Let go of me," cried Dick.

"Oh, I'll let go," was the sarcastic rejoinder. "You had lots of mercy on me, didn't you?"

"You started the quarrel, Joseph Farvel."

"Did I? I reckon not. You did that – when you came here after the treasure that belongs to me. Tell me – has your party found anything yet?"

"I won't tell you a word."

"I'll make you!"

"You can't do it."

"Can't I? We'll see. Come."

With brutal force the man dragged the weak and worn-out lad to his camp. With some handy vines he bound Dick's hands behind him, and then fastened the youth to a slanting rock. The rock was thin and set up against a second rock, leaving an opening like the letter A beneath.

Into the opening Farvel kicked the burning embers of the fire, and then heaped on more fuel.

"Now we'll see how you feel when your legs begin to get warm," he cried. "I reckon those vines will not catch for quite awhile, they are that green."

"Would you burn me?" cried Dick, in horror.

"And why not?"

"You are as bad as the savage Indians used to be!"

"I mean to have my rights," growled Farvel. "Now if you have anything to tell me, out with it."

CHAPTER XXXIII

GOOD-BYE TO PORTO RICO – CONCLUSION

Dick felt his heart sink within him. Farvel was in an exceedingly ugly mood, and looked as if he fully intended to let the youth suffer as he had intimated.

"You rascal! What is the meaning of this?"

The words were spoken in English, and caused Joseph Farvel to jump as though he had been shot. Turning, he saw himself confronted by several gentlemen, one of whom carried a pistol.

"Mr. Grey!" gasped Dick – as he recognized the gentleman Bob had brought to the Dashaway, while taking on stores at St. Augustine – "Help me, please!"

"Why, is it possible!" ejaculated the merchant. "You are – er – the young man from that yacht, are you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And who is this – this villain?"

"An Englishman, who has tried to do our party a great deal of injury. He claims that a treasure that we have been hunting for belongs to him."

"That is no reason why he should treat you in this fashion. Stand where you are, sir, while I release the youth."

Several of the party sprang to Dick's side and one cut the vines. Then Garrison Grey turned to collar Joseph Farvel.

But the rascal realized the position he was in, and not wishing to serve a term in prison, he dashed away, straight for the jungle.

Dick went after him and called upon Mr. Grey to do the same, and soon the entire party of newcomers were in the chase.

More alarmed than ever, Joseph Farvel turned from the jungle toward a high bank overlooking the valley.

He was not careful of his footsteps, and of a sudden he plunged into a rocky gully all of fifty feet deep.

He turned over twice in his fall and then landed on his chest and shoulder. When the party got to where he was lying, they found him unconscious.

The newcomers were all Americans, out sight-seeing, and one of them was a well-known physician of Philadelphia.

"What do you think of this case, Doctor Carey?" asked Mr. Grey, while Dick looked on with interest.

"He has his shoulder broken and also several ribs," replied the physician, after a thorough examination. "Luckily for him, I doubt if there are any internal injuries."

While the physician set to work to make Joseph Farvel as easy as circumstances permitted, the others turned to Dick and made him relate his tale, the boy only omitting the interesting detail that the treasure had been found.

"I've heard of these treasures, in Ponce," said the coffee trader. "They will belong to anybody who finds them. The smuggler who placed them there left no heirs."

Dick thought Joseph Farvel had suffered enough for his misdeeds, and decided to let the man go his own way – which was not saving much, as he had to be conveyed by litter to a wretched little hospital at Caguas.

Here the man laid on a sick bed for nearly four months, when he made his way to Ponce, on money furnished by Robert Menden. Menden likewise furnished Farvel with money to take him back to England, where he remained a sadder and, probably, a wiser man. The members of the Gun and Sled Club never heard of him again. "And we never wanted to," said Bob, in telling of the circumstance.

Garrison Grey's party had met old Jacob and the others on the road, and they directed Dick to his friends' camp. The owner of the Dashaway was hailed as one from the tomb.

"The Lord be praised!" cried old Jacob, as he embraced the lad; and then the others joined in, until happy Dick was almost hugged to death. Danny danced an Irish jig for joy, and prepared such a spread as none of the party had eaten since leaving the yacht.

It was decided by all hands, now that the treasure was found, to go back to the Dashaway without delay; and inside of twenty-four hours they were on the way to Caguas. Here Robert Menden paid a short visit to Joseph Farvel; but what passed between the pair never came to light, excepting that Menden gave the man the money mentioned. "Poor beggar; I couldn't do less," was all Menden would say.

At Caguas the party hired a native carriage, and with the treasure divided between them, set off on the ride to San Juan. All were armed, and a strict watch was kept for brigands; but Bumbum had learned a lesson and did not appear, nor did any others of his calling put in an appearance.

At San Juan the Dashaway was found just as they had left her, and it was with a long sigh of relief that Dick and the others boarded the craft, followed by the ever-faithful Dash. At once the man who had had charge of the craft was paid off, and stores sufficient to last them for a trip to the United States were taken on board.

It was decided to run directly for Savannah, and they dropped out of the harbor of San Juan one bright morning when nature seemed to be at its loveliest. The sun was shining brightly, the sea was almost as smooth as glass, and scarcely a cloud dotted the deep blue sky.

"Good-bye to Porto Rico!" cried Bob, swinging his cap in the air. And all of the others echoed the words. Then they sped on their course, and before night, town and coastline had faded far away in the distance.

It must not be imagined that the return to the States was made without incident. As in coming, they encountered a severe storm, and once came very close to drifting on the rocks in a calm, when the anchor was lost and not recovered.

But taken all in all, the voyage was a happy one. On the first days out they tried to count up the value of the treasure. But this was impossible, as they had no idea what the precious stones would bring in.

"I believe the gold is worth all of twenty thousand dollars," said Robert Menden. "Perhaps the stones are worth as much more."

"That will be forty thousand dollars," replied Leander. "Quite a haul, eh?" and he winked his eye joyfully.

They were in the best of spirits, and when Danny was not working, he was dancing, or singing or whistling at the top of his lung power. "We'll be millionaires, dat's wot!" he was wont to say, to anybody who would listen to him. He intended to give nearly all of his share to his mother – a poor widow, who took in washing for a living. "It will most strike her dead; I know it will!" he whispered one day to Don.

But all voyages must come to an end, and one morning old Jacob electrified everybody by announcing that land was in sight. Before night they entered the harbor of Savannah.

It was Robert Menden, old Jacob and Bob, who took the gold to one of the banks and got a receipt for it. Carefully weighed, the treasure proved to be worth twenty-two thousand and three hundred dollars.

Then the stones were taken to a reliable jewelry firm, sorted and tested. Their value brought the total amount of the treasure to a little over fifty thousand dollars.

Of this, Robert Menden insisted upon keeping only one-half. The other twenty-five thousand was placed to Dick's credit. Of this amount the members of the Gun and Sled Club divided five thousand equally between old Jacob and Danny, and kept the twenty thousand for themselves – Dick, Don, Bob and Leander to share and share alike.

The good news was sent ahead by mail, and created a veritable sensation in Waterford. Poor Mrs. Guirk could not believe her good fortune, and shed tears of joy when Squire Hobart read to her the letter Danny had managed to pen, with Bob's aid.

"Sure an' it's a blessing from Heaven, Squire," said she. "Danny's a good b'y, but I niver expected this of him, never!" And she wiped her tears away with her apron.

When the Dashaway arrived at home the boys found the water-front of the town decorated in their honor. A grand feast was had at the home of Dick Wilbur, and here their various adventures had to be told again and again, for the benefit of the club members' parents, and their numerous friends. It was a jolly time and one never to be forgotten; and here we will leave them, satisfied that, no matter what adventures they may have in the future, they will never have any more thrilling than those encountered while treasure-hunting in Porto Rico.