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The Radio Boys Under the Sea; or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure Page 5
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CHAPTER V
MAROONED
There were many separate papers in the package that Benton spread outbefore the fascinated eyes of the boys. Only one or two larger sheetsseemed like a consecutive narrative. Others were mere scraps of paperthat looked as though they had been picked up in lieu of somethingbetter for the writer to put his thoughts upon.
Bitter thoughts most of them were, thoughts of vengeance, imprecationsupon the authors of alleged wrongs from which the writer had suffered,chants of hate that seemed as though they might have blistered the paperon which they were written. As the boys handled carefully those yellowedsheets of paper, so brittle from time that they were almost fallingapart, so yellowed that in many cases the writing was almost illegible,the years rolled away and before them rose up the picture of thatsolitary figure on an island in the Caribbean eating his heart out withrage and hate and finding his only solace in setting down from day today his prayers for vengeance on the souls of those who had brought himto that pass.
Benton had arranged them as nearly as might be in chronological orderand kept up a running series of comments and explanations as he wentalong.
"You can see," he said, "that the writing isn't merely a scrawl. It wasthe work of a man with considerable education. I've gathered from thestory as I went through it that he was the son of a well to do family inone of the colonies that bordered on the Caribbean Sea about twocenturies ago. Those were wild and reckless days in that quarter of theworld, with the buccaneers roaming up and down the Spanish Main, sinkingships and once in a while attacking the towns on the coast and robbingthem of their treasures. This fellow was probably the black sheep ofsome respectable family who went to the bad and ran away and joined thepirates. Probably he was just as bad as any of the rest of them, thoughto read his story you'd think that he was a poor persecuted man and thatall the wrong was on the side of his shipmates.
"You know that in those days the pirates had a code of laws of theirown. They were some of the vilest wretches that ever went unhung andflouted all the laws of the civilized nations of the world. They wereIshmaels, their hands against every man's and every man's hands againstthem. But even they had to have some laws of their own, or theBrotherhood, as they called their choice collection of scoundrels, wouldhave gone to pieces.
"Now one of the laws that they laid most store by was that whenever aship or a town was looted, none of the pirates should hold out anyparticular bit of treasure that he might come across. Everything was tobe brought and placed in a great pile at the foot of the mast on thepirate ship and then a division was made, so much to the captain, somuch to the mates, so much to each member of the crew.
"The punishment for any member of the crew who was caught violating thislaw was that he should be marooned. That meant that he was to be takento some one of the many little desolate islands that stud the Caribbean,put ashore with about enough provisions to last him a month and thenleft to shift for himself.
"In most cases that amounted to a sentence of death. Either the manwould starve after his provisions were exhausted, or even if hesucceeded for a time in dragging out a miserable existence he would gomad from loneliness and hopelessness. It was one of the punishments mostdreaded by the pirates of the Brotherhood.
"Well, marooning was what happened to Santos, the pirate whose writingis on these papers. Likely enough he deserved it, though he says hedidn't. You can see what he says here."
Benton picked up one of the sheets and read:
"I swear by the Holy Virgin that at the taking of the galleon Ciudad deRodrigo I rendered to the common mass every doubloon and jewel that Ihad taken from the passengers before they were made to walk the plank.But Cerillos the captain--may his soul be accursed--hated me because hefeared that I might some day supplant him, and brought it about that acrucifix with gems upon it was found in my sea chest. But I swear that Iknew it not."
"You see," resumed Benton, as he laid down the paper, "he claims that hewas the victim of what in these days we would call a 'frame-up.' Maybehe was and maybe he wasn't. You know that most criminals when they go tothe electric chair proclaim that they are innocent.
"However that may be, they seemed to have the goods on the old boy, andhe was taken to this island, where he was put ashore and left to live ordie as fate might decree.
"Where that island was is a most important matter, and on that wehaven't any too much information. There are scores, probably hundreds ofthem in the Caribbean. Some of them are mere rocks a few acres inextent. Others cover a good many square miles. This one where Santos wasmarooned was one of the larger ones, and there was enough in the way offruits and cocoanuts together with what fish he could catch to keep himalive.
"Now the only clue we have," Benton continued, picking up a frayed pieceof paper, "to the location of the island is this rough sketch thatSantos drew. You can see for yourself that it's like a rough quadranglein shape."
The boys bent over and scanned with eyes shining with excitement therude outline. There were wavy lines to indicate the water, and a blackermass which was evidently intended for the island itself. On this werepeaks rising to a considerable height, and the effect of the skyline wassomething like the teeth of a saw. There were figures on the map almostillegible, but by the aid of a magnifying glass which Phil took from adrawer they could make out what seemed to be the figures "14" and "81."
"That's probably the latitude and longitude," exclaimed Dick, while Philmade a dive for an atlas.
"So I figured it," replied Benton. "Probably the old boy made more orless of a guess at it, but in a rough way it's likely to be correct. Itisn't probable that he had any instruments with him, but if what he saysof the captain's jealousy is correct it indicates that he was animportant figure in the crew and probably had some knowledge ofnavigation. If he had had any ambition to supplant the captain, he'dhave to know something about latitude and longitude."
By this time Phil had found the page in the atlas referring to the WestIndies, and was running his finger down it.
"Latitude 14, longitude 81," he repeated. "Here it is in the Caribbeansomewhere on a line between Jamaica and Honduras."
"That's correct," assented Benton. "And there's one very important pointconnected with that special location. You know that the Caribbean variesgreatly in depth. In places it's thousands of feet deep. In others thereare hundreds of miles where the water is very shallow, where what seemto be great plateaus rise from the bed of the sea to within a hundred ortwo hundred feet of the surface. Now one of these shallow basins is thatwhich lies between Jamaica and Honduras. Then too, the old piratementions in one part of this diary of his that when the vessel fromwhich he was marooned was approaching the island, soundings were takenby the captain. That was because he knew he was in shallow waters andfeared he might run aground.
"Now bear this fact in mind," Benton adjured them impressively, "for onit hangs the whole story."