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Read Ebook: Catty Atkins Sailorman by Kelland Clarence Budington
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Ebook has 1513 lines and 49018 words, and 31 pages
Catty motioned to me and jerked his head aft. I saw he wanted to say something to me, so I got up and went to the after deck and he came along in a minute.
"Hear that talk?" says he.
"Not being deaf," says I, "I did."
"What did you make out of it?"
"Nothing," says I, "unless Mr. Topper is crazy, or he's running away from somebody with something."
"Um. He doesn't look crazy to me."
"That settles it then," says I, kind of sarcastic.
"And he isn't running away from the police. Mr. Browning wouldn't have that kind of a man aboard."
"Treasure," says he, "buried treasure. Old Captain Kidd used to hang around these parts."
"Bet it hasn't," says he. "Bet Mr. Topper's got a map, and that black yacht is full of folks who know it, and they're going to attack us and take it away from him."
"All right," says he, "you wait and see. Come on, they may suspect we're talking about it."
We walked forward, and just as I got to the bridge I heard Mr. Browning say, "Hush. Here come the kids. You'll be scaring the lives out of them."
Well we chugged along and Mr. Browning showed us how to keep the log and navigate by chart. He showed us how to set a course, and all day we were busy checking up lights and nuns and bell buoys and beacons and red and black stakes. It was a lot of fun, and Mr. Browning said if a fog was to come up, that would be how we would find our way. Every time we passed a mark we would put it down in the log with the exact hour and minute.
Along about five o'clock--we had crossed the sound diagonally and were running up the Connecticut shore just near enough so we could see how lively it was through the glasses--Mr. Browning says, "There we are. The Thimbles. It's a hard place to get into. All rocks and reefs." He slacked speed and headed for what looked like a solid cliff of rock, and on both sides we could see the water lapping on nasty ledges of rock. In a few minutes we swung into a channel of deep water, with high rocks lifting on either side, and on the rocks were summer cottages. And pretty soon we were right among the Thimbles, and could see dozens and dozens of little rock islands, all with cottages on them, and channels running every which way.
"This used to be a refuge for pirates, years and years ago," said Mr. Browning. "They used to run in here and hide, and folks have dug up every inch of this place for buried treasure."
"Ever find any?" says Catty.
"I don't know," says he.
"Do you think there is any--anywheres? Must have all been dug up years ago," says Catty.
"Oh, I don't know," says Mr. Browning. "I guess a lot of it was buried, and it isn't likely it's all been found."
"Gosh," said Catty, "I wish we could get a chance to dig for some."
"Well," says Mr. Browning, with a grin, "you may before this cruise has ended. Never can tell what will happen when you're on salt water."
Catty looked at me and wrinkled his nose, as much as to say, "I told you so."
And then--the black yacht nosed through the passage and dropped her anchor not a hundred yards from us.
Mr. Topper just pointed with the longest, boniest finger I ever saw, and I thought he was going to cry.
"There," says he. "Look at that."
"Fiddlesticks," says Mr. Browning. "Ninety yachts out of a hundred come in here for anchorage the first night out of New York."
"See anybody you know?"
Mr. Topper shook his head. "Everybody's below except a man in dungarees. Part of the crew. Smoke's coming out of the funnel. Galley stovepipe must come up there. Probably all getting ready for dinner."
"Sounds good," says Catty.
"Well," says Catty after a while, "guess my dinner's settled. Let's go in for a swim."
We dropped off our clothes and stood up on the rail and dove in. Wow! I've been in some pretty cold water, but that water in the Thimbles was colder than I'd expect to find it at the North Pole. It wasn't so bad after a minute though, and we swam around enjoying it to beat everything.
"Say," Catty says after a minute, "let's swim over and have a look at the pirate."
"All right," says I, "but let's not get lost."
"Always can see the riding light," he says. "Swim as still as you can."
So we started off towards the pirate, swimming so quiet we could hardly hear ourselves. It wasn't much of a swim, though there was quite a little current. We got to the pirate and all around her. There wasn't a light except her riding light, and for a while we couldn't hear a sound. It was just as if she was deserted. But when we got just under her tail we could hear a murmur of voices and Catty reached out and touched my shoulder and whispered, "Grab hold of her stern and listen."
So we grabbed and lay still on the water. But we couldn't make out a word for quite a while. Then one of the men got up and stood right over us and says, "Well, so far--so good."
"Any fool can chase a boat in broad daylight," says the other man, who came and stood by him.
"But we aren't sure he's aboard."
"I am," says the other man.
"Oh, he never suspected a thing. How should he?"
"Rubbish."
"And, as I said, he may have fooled us. I didn't see him aboard that yacht."
"Why don't you row and pay him a friendly call? Nothing unusual in that. Here we are anchored side by side and nobody would think anything of it if you made a call."
"What now."
"I've a notion to slip into the water and swim over. Kind of take a look at things."
"Go it," says his friend, "if it'll make you feel any better."
Catty nudged me.
In a couple of minutes we heard the man say, "Well, here goes," and then there was a faint splash.
"Everybody's spying tonight," Catty whispered. "Let him get a little start and we'll follow him."
So we did, and you can bet we swam mighty silently. We had the advantage because we knew he was there, and he didn't know we were there. Of course we couldn't see him because it was so dark and we couldn't hear him, so we just swam straight for our light and kept our eyes peeled.
"Wow!" says he, startled, and he kicked out like he thought a shark was trying to eat him.
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