Dave Porter in the South Seas: or, The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel

That evening there was an interesting interview in Doctor Clay's office, in which Dave and his friends took an active part. The worthy master of Oak Hall listened to all the boys had to tell with keen attention, and smiled quietly when told how Dave and Roger had first followed Shadow in his somnambulistic feat. He took possession of the class pins and the stamps, and said the latter were undoubtedly from his collection.

"We now have nearly all of the class pins," he said. "But fully nine-tenths of the postage stamps are still missing and they represent a value of at least twenty-five hundred dollars. I am tolerably sure that Maurice Hamilton took them in his sleep, but the question is, did he destroy the others, or did somebody else come along and take them?"

"I believe Chip Macklin came to see you, sir," said Dave, significantly.

"He did, Porter, and I am going to follow that clew up – if it is a clew," answered Doctor Clay, gravely.

After the others had departed, Dave showed the things he had found belonging to Billy Dill. The master of the Hall was as much astonished as anybody over the resemblance between his pupil and the photograph, and examined the picture with care.

"I do not wonder that you wish to investigate this," said he. "I should wish to do so, were I in your position."

"I have simply got to do it, Doctor!" cried Dave. "I shall not be able to settle my mind on a thing until it's done. Would you go home and see Mr. Wadsworth and Professor Potts first, or go direct to that sailor?"

"Why not send a long letter to your friends, telling them what you have told me? You can add that I agree that the photograph resembles you closely, and that you wish to talk the matter over once again with this William Dill."

As impatient as he was, Dave concluded to follow this advice, and a letter of ten pages was sent to Mr. Wadsworth and to Caspar Potts the next morning. In the meantime, it may be added here, Doctor Clay had a closer watch than ever set on Shadow Hamilton's movements, and he also began a quiet investigation of Gus Plum's doings.

The letter that Dave sent to Crumville created a sensation in the Wadsworth household, and was read and re-read several times by the members of the manufacturer's family and by Professor Potts.

"There is undoubtedly something in this," said the professor. "It certainly is entitled to a strict investigation. If you will permit me, I will run up to Oak Hall to see Dave, and then take him to see this Billy Dill."

"I will go with you," answered the rich manufacturer. "The outing will do us both good, and I am greatly interested in Dave's welfare. I only trust that there is a happy future in store for him."

"And I say the same, sir, for no boy deserves it more," answered Professor Potts.

A telegram was sent to Dave, and on the following day Oliver Wadsworth and Caspar Potts journeyed to Oakdale. Dave met them at the depot with the Hall carriage.

"There he is!" exclaimed old Caspar Potts, rushing up and shaking hands. "My boy! my boy! I am glad to see you again!" And he fairly quivered with emotion.

"And I am glad to see you," cried Dave, in return. He shook hands with both men. "Mr. Wadsworth, it was kind of you to answer my letter so quickly," he added.

"I knew you would be anxious, Dave. My, how well and strong you look! The air up here must do you good."

"It is a very healthful spot," answered the youth, "and I like it better than I can tell."

"A fine school – a fine school!" murmured Professor Potts. "You could not go to a better."

On the way to the Hall, Dave told his story in detail, and exhibited the photograph, which he had brought with him, scarcely daring to leave it out of his sight.

"It is just as you have said," remarked Oliver Wadsworth. "A most remarkable resemblance, truly!"

"That man must be some relative to Dave," added Caspar Potts. "There could not be such a resemblance otherwise. It is undoubtedly the same strain of blood. He may be a father, uncle, cousin, elder brother – there is no telling what; but he is a relative, I will stake my reputation on it."

The visitors were cordially greeted at Oak Hall by Doctor Clay and made to feel perfectly at home. They were given rooms for the night, and in the morning the doctor and his visitors and Dave had breakfast together.

It had been decided that a visit should be paid to Billy Dill that very afternoon, and by nine o'clock Mr. Wadsworth, Professor Potts, and Dave were on the way to the town where was located the sanitarium to which the sailor had been taken. Dave had the tar's satchel and clothing with him, and the precious photograph was stowed away in his pocket. Just then he would not have parted with that picture for all the money in the world.

CHAPTER XIV

A GLEAM OF LIGHT

"I would advise that you keep that satchel and the picture out of sight at first," said Professor Potts, as he rang the bell of the sanitarium. "Talk to the old sailor and try to draw him out. Then show him his belongings when you think the time ripe."

Mr. Wadsworth and Dave thought this good advice, and when they were ushered into the old sailor's presence, the boy kept the satchel behind him.

"Well, douse my toplights, but I'm glad to see ye all!" cried Billy Dill, as he shook hands. "It's kind o' you to pay a visit to such an old wreck as I am."

"Oh, you're no wreck, Mr. Dill," answered Oliver Wadsworth. "We'll soon have you as right and tight as any craft afloat," he added, falling into the tar's manner of speaking.

"Bless the day when I can float once more, sir. Do you know, I've been thinkin' that a whiff o' salt air would do me a sight o' good. Might fix my steerin' apparatus," and the tar tapped his forehead.

"Then you must have a trip to the ocean, by all means," said Caspar Potts. He turned to the rich manufacturer. "It might be easily arranged."

"Dill, I want to talk to you about the time you were out in the South Seas," said Dave, who could bear the suspense no longer. "Now, please follow me closely, will you?"

"Will if I can, my hearty." The sailor's forehead began to wrinkle. "You know my memory box has got its cargo badly shifted."

"Don't you remember when you were down there – at Cavasa Island, and elsewhere – how hard times were, and how somebody helped you."

"Seems to me I do."

"Don't you remember traveling around with your bundle and your satchel? You had some money in bankbills and some loose silver, and a work on navigation, and a Bible – "

"Yes! yes! I remember the Bible – it was the one my aunt gave me – God bless her! She, Aunt Lizzie – took care o' me when my mother died, an' she told me to read it every day – an' I did, most o' the time."

"Well, you had the Bible and your satchel and your bundle of clothes," went on Dave, impressively. "And at that time you fell in with a man who afterwards gave you his photograph."

"So I did – the man who looks like you. But I – "

"Wait a minute. Don't you remember his telling you a story about a crazy nurse and a lost child?"

"I certainly do, but – "

Dave drew the photograph from his pocket and thrust it forward, directly before the tar's eyes.

"There is the man!" he cried. "Now, what is his name? Tell me his name, at once!"

"Dunston Porter!" fairly shouted the sailor. "Dunston Porter! That's it! I knew I would remember it sometime! Dunston Porter, of course it was! Funny how I forgot it. Better write it down, afore it slips my cable again."

"Dunston Porter!" murmured Dave, and the others likewise repeated the name.

"Ha! this is remarkable!" ejaculated Caspar Potts. "Dave, do you remember what you called yourself when you were first found and taken to the poorhouse."

"I do, sir. I called myself Davy, and Porter, and Dun-Dun."

"Exactly, and Dun-Dun meant Dunston. You were trying to repeat the name, 'Dunston Porter'!"

"That would seem to be the fact," came from Oliver Wadsworth. "And if so – " He paused significantly.