  “Incredible!” exclaimed Captain Sparhawk, unable to think of anything else to say at the astounding information. “But, nevertheless, true. Sparhawk, this message confirms the truth of your theory about ‘Bully’ Broom. That rascal attacked and overcame the unsuspecting crew of the Centurion, and obtained the 'Tear of the Sea’.” “The infernal scoundrel,” breathed Captain Sparhawk. “There is not another man in the South Seas who would have dared such a coup. But does the message give any clue to your brother’s fate, sir?” he added respectfully. The millionaire’s face glowed and suddenly lost its careworn look. “That’s the best part of it,” he explained. Inside the cabin the millionaire spread on the table the yellowed, scribbled bit of paper that just then meant more to him than any document he had ever seen in his life. “I’ll read aloud,” he said, and then, in a clear voice, he recited the contents of the missive. “Any one finding this please notify my brother Jacob Jukes of New York, who will reward him lavishly for the trouble. This is being written on board ‘Bully’ Broom’s schooner, South Sea Lass. We are all prisoners and the 'Tear of the Sea’ is in the ruffian’s possession. We are being taken, as I overheard, to Bomobori, in New Guinea, with what object I cannot say. May Heaven help us in our desperate strait. I am throwing this, with a prayer to Heaven that it may be found, from the window of the cabin in which I am confined. Jerushah Jukes.” “I know Bomobori well,” exclaimed Captain Sparhawk, as Mr. Jukes finished reading. “I was there in '87 and again in '89.” “Not much of a town,” was the reply. “It is at the mouth of a river that penetrates a wild country. If ‘Bully’ Broom wished to hide his captives, he could not have taken them to a better place.” “Sparhawk,” and the millionaire’s voice was vibrant with determination, “how long will it take us to get there?” “I should say not more than a week. But we should have to re-coal at Tahiti if we are to make the run at top speed. How about that, Raynor?” “You’re right, captain,” said the young engineer. “I’ll guarantee to run the Sea Gypsy’s engines faster than they were ever run before, but I’ve got to have the coal to do it with.” “That steamer is through coaling us now?” asked the millionaire, after he had made a few calculations on a scrap of paper. “Good,” was Mr. Jukes’ response. “Send the captain to me and I will give him my check. Raynor, how soon can you have steam up?” “In an hour, sir,” responded the young engineer. “Splendid; make all the time you can. Every moment is valuable now. Ready——” Jack was all attention. Into the millionaire’s manner had come a snap and a grip of affairs that had not been there since they had sailed. He had something tangible to go upon now, and was plainly prepared to make the most of it. “Ready,” he went on, “I want you to raise Tahiti at once. Order coal to be ready for us when we arrive and have a force of men engaged to hustle it on board without loss of time.” “Yes, sir,” rejoined Jack, hurrying from the cabin. Within a few minutes the entire atmosphere Shortly before sun-down Raynor reported all ready in the engine room. “Very well, captain,” said Mr. Jukes, “you may get up your anchor.” The necessary orders were soon given and as the chains rattled home through the exhaust pipes the yacht swung her bow gracefully seaward. A big crowd of canoes and the small tramp, which had also taken up anchor, accompanied her some distance out to sea. The natives raised their voices in melancholy songs as they paddled, and from time to time cried out: “Come back, white men.” |
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