In Search of Treasure

“It certainly would.”

“But if the treasure were found, the one who incurred the expense would be richly repaid.”

“Well, perhaps so,” said the captain, skeptically.

“You won’t go anywhere near the island, then, captain?”

“No, Guy, I sha’n’t.”

Guy sat quiet a moment. He was very much disappointed. He began to realize how utterly quixotic was the expedition on which he had embarked.

“I begin to wish I had never found the letter,” he said.

“As to that, Guy, no harm is done. I presume, if you hadn’t found the letter, I should not have had the pleasure of your company on this voyage.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Probably you will derive some pleasure and benefit from the trip, even if you never touch a dollar of this treasure.”

“That is true, captain; but I have a special reason for wishing I might obtain money from this source, or some other.”

“What is it?”

Then Guy told what he had learned as to Deacon Crane’s intention of driving his father from the parish. It would be a heavy blow to the minister, who was no longer endowed with a young man’s energy or hopefulness.

“You are a good boy, Guy, to have so much consideration for your father; but I am afraid you are leaning on a broken reed if you have any idea of helping him by the discovery of this treasure. However, I will turn the idea over in my mind, and if I can think of any suggestion to offer you I will do so.”

CHAPTER V

AN ADVENTURE IN BOMBAY

Guy’s conversation with Captain Grover left him with a feeling of disappointment. He felt that the captain had little faith in the reality of the treasure, and considered his enterprise a failure in advance.

Guy had overlooked the principal difficulties in the way. He had managed to reach the Indian Ocean, but this had brought him no nearer the realization of his hopes. If he had had nothing on his mind he might have enjoyed the bright, calm days and the clear skies, with glimpses here and there of islands covered with tropical vegetation.

But he had started on his voyage with a purpose. He wanted to find and secure the treasure hinted at in his uncle’s letter, and make his father independent for life. Of this there seemed to be now no chance, or next to none.

There was nothing for him to do except to remain on board the Osprey till the vessel reached Bombay. Then there would be the return voyage, at the end of which he would have seen considerable of the world, but would have gained nothing to repay him for the year he had spent away from home.

But there was no help for it. The captain would not change his course, and Guy must be content to leave the island unvisited, and the great problem unsolved.

At last they reached Bombay.

Guy surveyed the place with curious interest. He was not prepared to find it so large.

A city which contains seven hundred thousand inhabitants is a great city in any part of the world.

Not having any duties on board the ship, Guy was allowed to go and come when he pleased.

He found that among the foreign residents the English were the most prominent and influential. His walks were chiefly in what is called the European town, but he frequently strolled through the more picturesque part occupied by the natives.

One evening he was sauntering through the Persian quarter when he was startled by seeing a brown-faced native, his head surmounted by a turban, dart from an alleyway and pursue a well-dressed man, apparently either English or American.

That his object was murder or robbery, perhaps both, seemed evident, for he held in his hand a long, narrow, dangerous-looking knife.

Guy was not only courageous, but prompt. He carried a stout cane, not that he needed its support, but because he had been recommended to have it with him for defense, if needed.

He did not pause a moment, but springing forward, brought it down with emphasis on the arm of the Persian.

The native gave a sharp, shrill cry, which attracted the attention of the man whom he had intended to attack.

He was clearly an Englishman, inclined to be stout, and apparently about forty-five years of age.

He looked quickly from the native to Guy, and back again.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Only that this man was about to attack you with his knife.”

“And you saved me?”

“Yes; I was, fortunately, in time to prevent his striking you.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, but I must deal with this scoundrel, first.”

He seized the Oriental by the throat, and forced him to his knees.

“Dog!” he said, “what have you to say before I kill you?”

The cowardly fellow uttered voluble and abject entreaties for pardon in bad English. The purport of his speech was that he was a poor man, and had no money.

“Forgive me, Mr. Saunders,” he said.

“Ha! You know my name!” said the Englishman.

He bent over and scanned the face of his would-be assailant closely.

“I know him,” he said, briefly. “He was a native servant in my employ. I had to discharge him because I found him dishonest and a liar. Probably his attack to-night was prompted by a spirit of revenge.”

“Don’t kill me!” pleaded the Persian, in terrified accents.

“So you would have killed me, you scoundrel!” retorted the Englishman, shaking him vigorously.

“I—pardon me—I didn’t know it was you, worshipful sir!”

“You knew it well enough, I’ll be bound!”

“If you will go with me,” went on the Englishman, turning to Guy, “I will conduct this fellow to the police office. I do not propose to let him off. He is evidently a dangerous man, and, coward as he is, he may do harm unless he is secured.”