The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Pacific

Donald had always, in the past, been inclined to dudishness in his clothes. Now his clothing was dilapidated and torn, his shoes were old canvas ones that looked ready to fall apart, and he had a scarecrow of a battered straw hat on his head.

Moreover, his face was careworn and his cheeks hollow and one eye appeared to have suffered a blow of some sort for it was blackened and swollen. Altogether he was a most woebegone looking specimen of humanity, and the boys wondered he was suffered about the hotel. Donald’s presence there, however, was later accounted for, although this, of course, the boys did not know, by a long tale of disaster and suffering he had sustained while gold hunting in the interior. Donald said he was expecting remittances from America and on this account had been accommodated with quarters.

“My gracious, what a change,” exclaimed Billy under his breath. “He looks like a regular scarecrow.”

“He must have been in mighty tough luck,” rejoined Jack. “But what beats me is what he is doing here. It’s a very odd coincidence that we should run into two of our old enemies on this trip.”

“It is, indeed. But see, he is looking at us. I suppose we ought to speak to the poor chap.”

Donald had dropped his paper and was staring straight at the two lads as if they had been ghosts. Then he got to his feet and came toward them.

“Jack Ready!” he exclaimed, “where did you come from?”

“We might ask the same question of you, Judson,” said Jack, “but – er – you’ll excuse my saying so, but you look as if you’d been in hard luck lately.”

“I have been, oh I have been,” said Donald, in a voice far different from his old bragging one. “I got out of a job and shipped for a sailor. I’d heard it was a fine life. The ship I was on sailed away from Honolulu while I was still ashore after overstopping my leave. Then I got a job on a schooner that had a bad reputation, when I was nearly starved, but I had to live somehow. The captain of the South Sea Lass was a brute. He – ”

“Here, hold on,” cried Jack, seizing his arm which was thin and bony, “was his name Broom – ”

“Yes. ‘Bully’ Broom. He is little better than a pirate. He treated me worse than a dog, and finally, after blacking my eye, put me ashore here several days ago. He – say, hold on, what’s the matter?”

Jack and Billy had seized him one on each side and were dragging him across the floor of the hotel office.

“There’s somebody here we want you to tell your story to,” explained Jack. “It’ll be worth something to you, but be sure to tell the truth.”

“As if I could lie, no matter what I said about that wretch, ‘Bully’ Broom,” declared Donald. “I’m sure he was mixed up in some illegal business. Why we put into an island called the Pommer-Pommer – ”

“The Pamatous?” came from Billy.

“That’s it.”

“And some men were taken prisoners from a schooner called the Centurion?” demanded Jack.

“Yes, but see here Ready, how in the world – ?”

“Never mind that. What became of those prisoners?”

“He locked them up in cabins. He said that they were bad men and pearl robbers and that he was bringing them to justice.”

“Did you ever talk with them?”

“No; except one, and I never got a chance to say much to him. Broom watched me very closely. He’d have murdered me if he’d thought that I was trying to pry into his affairs.”

“What was the name of the man you talked to?”

“He was a kind of a leader of the party, I guess,” was the reply. “I used to take him his meals and there were precious few of those too, for we were on short rations ourselves.”

“But his name – his name?” demanded Jack.

“Oh, Flukes – something like that, anyhow. I never was good at names.”

“Was it Jukes?”

“That was it,” cried Donald, snapping his fingers.

“Well, boys, what’s the matter?” demanded the missing man’s brother as he finished with the register and turned amazedly to face his two young followers grasping Donald’s ragged figure on each side as if they had a prisoner in custody.

“Mr. Jukes, this boy has seen and talked to your brother within the last two weeks,” was the announcement from Jack that sent the millionaire staggering back against the hotel desk, for once in his life giving way to uncontrolled amazement.

CHAPTER XIX. – HE TELLS A STRANGE STORY

“Bless my soul,” he exclaimed, when he found breath, “you boys are always digging up somebody. Who is this?”

He regarded the ragged figure of the unfortunate Donald with some disapprobation. Jack explained, and then Donald, stumbling and stuttering somewhat under Mr. Jukes’ steady eye, told his story.

“But you have not told us the most important part of it all,” said the millionaire, as he concluded. “Where was my unfortunate brother taken to by this ruffian?”

“That’s just what I don’t know, sir,” rejoined the boy. “You see, they took good care I shouldn’t know too much about their operations. All I know is that I heard them saying something about 'up the river.’”

“Meaning this river – the Bomobori?” asked Mr. Jukes.

“I suppose so.”

“Do you know where the schooner is now?” was the millionaire’s next question, but Donald did not. All he knew was that, after landing him in Bomobori, ‘Bully’ Broom had departed under cover of night. Where he had headed for was a mystery.

Jack whispered something to the millionaire when Donald had concluded his narrative and Mr. Jukes put his hand in his pocket and drew out some coins. Then as he moved off Jack rather hesitatingly said to Donald:

“You’ve had a hard time of it for money, I suppose?”

“Hard? That’s no name for it,” exclaimed the other. “That rascal Broom never gave me a cent, though when he shipped me he promised me wages. If you hadn’t arrived I don’t know what I should have done.”

“Well, we are willing to let bygones be bygones,” said Jack.

“It wouldn’t be fair to be rough on a fellow who is down on his luck,” muttered Donald rather grudgingly. “And – and I guess I’ve learned a lesson, fellows.”

“By the way, Donald,” said Jack, handing the boy the coins Mr. Jukes had given him, “here is something from Mr. Jukes to help you along for the present. I am sure he will see to it that you do not suffer any more hardships in return for the valuable information you have given us.”

The destitute lad’s face brightened wonderfully. The money – about twenty dollars – was more than he had seen in a long time. He fingered the coins greedily.

“I – I’m much obliged to you and to your friend, too,” he muttered rather shamefacedly, “and – er – I’m sorry I ever played you mean tricks.”

“Never mind about that now,” said Jack, cutting him short. “My advice to you is not to hang about here, but to get a job on the first ship that touches here and go home.”

“I’ll go down to the shipping offices right now and see what the chances are,” promised Donald, and with a new spring in his step he started out of the hotel.

“What a change,” exclaimed Jack, when he had gone. “I never thought Donald Judson could become so humbled.”

“He is certainly blue, and that is hardly surprising,” agreed Billy. “But the question is whether his seeming repentance is sincere.”