Cherry Ames 21 Island Nurse (19 page)

“Yes, I see him,” Lloyd whispered back.

“The sea will be calm enough tonight,” Little Joe was saying, “to bring our boat into Rogues’ Cave. I want to get this silver out of here by tonight. I’ve worked out a place to have it crushed and the silver extracted and no questions asked. We’ll block up the tunnel before we leave, so no one will get wise to the fact we’ve

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discovered a silver mine worth a fortune. Then we’ll turn up in St. John’s with a horrible tale of suffering—

of being lost at sea, riding out the storm, and fi nally reaching shore.”

For several moments Cherry had the eerie feeling that someone was looking at them.

Now, letting her glance rove about the room, she gave a joyful little gasp upon encountering two eyes staring at her out of what she had mistaken for a sack of rocks in the shadowy corner. Sitting on the fl oor with his back against the wall of the alcove, trussed up with rope and gagged, was Old Jock Cameron. She nodded to him to let him know that she had seen him.

Then, clutching Lloyd’s arm so he would not move and make a noise, she said in barely audible tones,

“Look closely, Lloyd, you’ll see Mr. Cameron. You have a knife. If you can get close enough or he can wriggle this way, you can cut him loose.”

Lloyd answered by squeezing her hand. Leaning over he said, “Untie the rope around your waist. Tell Meg and Dr. Mac to do the same.”

When they were all freed from one another, Lloyd said softly, “Now, here’s my plan of action, everybody.

Cherry, you and Meg stand against the wall and don’t make a sound. Doc, get out your knife. Meg, let me have your knife. As soon as I’ve cut Old Jock free, I’ll whistle just once softly. That’s your cue, Doc, to come out fi ghting. We’ll rush Little Joe and his men. None of them seems to be armed. I can’t see anything that looks like a gun, can you, Doc?”

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Dr. Mac peered at the men a moment. “No.” He took his knife out of the sheath. “Well, I’m all set.”

“Now, you, Cherry and Meg,” said Lloyd. “You get out of here as fast as you can when Dr. Mac and I rush those men in there. We’re not going to use our knives, but we are going to try to frighten them enough so they won’t give us any trouble. But the Doc and I don’t want you girls in this. So get out fast.”

“Do we go back the way we came?” asked Meg.

“No, follow the new tunnel,” said Lloyd. “It has to lead out through the cave. The smuggling is out through the cave, remember? Just be sure, by playing your lights over the tunnel walls and the wood that it is the newly dug tunnel. It probably leads right into one of the tunnels in the cave that you know, Meg. Everybody all set?” Lloyd asked.

The three said they were.

“Hang on to these,” Lloyd told Cherry, giving her his binoculars and geologist’s hammer and pick. With that, he dropped to the fl oor of the tunnel and started crawling toward Old Jock in the alcove. The light was dim and the place was full of shadows.

As the three waited, they heard Little Joe and the others still talking.

“Have you fi gured out yet what to do with old man Cameron, Little Joe?” asked one.

“The storm caused a lot of accidents—some of them fatal,” suggested Little Joe.

This was greeted with general laughter.

A whining voice complained, “Sure, Little Joe, that takes care of the old man, but what about the kid?

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That night in the storm when we ran after the old man and caught him, we shouldn’t have bothered taking the kid. Besides, the kid got away, anyway—a regular eel.”

“Never mind the kid.” Little Joe brushed the matter aside. “He probably drowned. You told me yourself you saw him disappear just before you reached the cave.

Rogues’ Cave was fi lled with water way up over the ledge, you said.”

“Yes, but you can’t be sure he fell in,” the voice whined.

“Forget it,” snapped Little Joe.

“Tammie! Oh, my goodness!” Cherry murmured despairingly. “Poor little Tammie, drowned in Rogues’

Cave.”

Then it struck her that perhaps he had not drowned at all. Tammie had disappeared just before he had reached the cave, the man had said.

Cherry focused her attention on Lloyd, crawling as slowly as a snail toward Old Jock. He had only a little way to go. Even as Cherry watched, Lloyd was reaching out with his knife to cut the rope that bound Old Jock’s ankles. Now, Lloyd had pulled himself alongside Old Jock and was cutting the rope that bound his hands behind him. He handed the knife to Old Jock and took Meg’s knife in his hand. Old Jock ripped the gag off his mouth. It had all been done so slowly and quietly that it was like watching a silent fi lm in slow motion.

With a start, Cherry heard a short whistle. It was Lloyd’s cue to Dr. Mac. And the doctor sprang from 184
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his place against the wall, and darted into the alcove to take his place beside Lloyd and Old Jock.

Little Joe and his three men got up so quickly they knocked over the box on which they were playing cards. Then altogether they started toward Lloyd, Dr.

Mac, and Old Jock, who held their knives menacingly in their hands.

Meg grabbed Cherry’s arm as the men rushed toward each other and started to grapple. “We must go. Lloyd said we mustn’t stay here,” she said.

“I know,” Cherry said. They switched on their miners’ lamps and started off. Meg led the way, fl ashing her lamp on the walls and boards to see if they were following the newly dug tunnel. They raced along for quite some distance, then Meg stopped suddenly.

“Look!” she said to Cherry. “This is where the new part ends.”

The two girls shone the lamps over the sides of the tunnel and they could see clearly where the old shoring was next to the new. Beyond the newly dug part, the tunnel continued, but it had been dug and shored up long ago.

“Listen!” Cherry put her hand on Meg’s arm. The two of them stood still for a moment. “I hear the pounding of waves on the shore,” Cherry said. “Don’t you, Meg?”

“Yes,” Meg answered. “We are near Rogues’ Cave.”

“Meg, we can’t be far from the hidey-hole, can we?” asked Cherry.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Meg said. “Tammie.

Tammie may be in the hidey-hole.”

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They raced down the tunnel, the sound of the sea growing louder and louder in their ears all the time. At last they came to the passage that Cherry remembered from her visit with Meg. They were not far from the hidey-hole.

Cherry began calling, “Tammie! Tammie, where are you!”

Meg was infected by Cherry’s desperately hopeful cry that Tammie must be there in the hidey-hole, or in the cave somewhere. Meg took up the call and both girls shouted at the top of their lungs.

The tunnel echoed and re-echoed their call of “Tammie, Tammie, Tammie.”

Suddenly ahead of them a little door screeched over the stones. Their lights picked up a small fi gure in sou’wester, oilskins, and high rubber hoots emerging from the hidey-hole.

He cried, “Meg! Oh, Cherry!” and rushing forward fl ung his arms around them.

Half an hour later, a dismal-appearing group, muddy and dirty from head to foot, went trooping into the hall of Barclay House. They made a great clatter. Cherry and Meg, holding Tammie’s hands, marched in fi rst. Then came Little Joe Tweed and the three sullen members of the
Heron’s
crew, their hands tied behind their backs.

Bringing up the rear were Lloyd, Dr. Mackenzie, and Old Jock, with bags of native silver fl ung over their shoulders, looking like country peddlers. All the men were dirty, their clothes torn, and bore bruises and scratches.

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Higgins on his way downstairs from the second fl oor was stopped in his tracks at the amazing apparition.

“Where’s Uncle Ian?” asked Lloyd at once.

“He’s in the library with Mr. Broderick, sir,” replied Higgins, mouth agape.

Just then they heard a door open and Sir Ian’s voice say, “You may bankrupt
me
if you like, Mr. Broderick, but you’ll never get control of the Balfour Mines.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” said Mr. Broderick fi rmly.

“I know what I’m talking about and ye don’t,” said Sir Ian. “For the last couple of days I’ve been carefully checking over everything I possess. My share in the mines right now will pay just about what I owe the bank.

Barclay House and everything in it belong to my daughter Meg. I don’t own anything else. Either ye take the payments on the money ye loaned me—and I’ll pay several thousand a quarter out of my income, or ye leave it.”

“Suppose I choose to leave it,” said Broderick.

“Then ye’ll be cutting off your nose to spite your face,” declared Sir Ian. “Ye won’t get your money back and ye won’t gain control of the mines, either.”

“I don’t want to press you too much,” Broderick said, sounding slightly disconcerted. “You’ve been a great man in Canadian mining for too many years and your family before you. I admire your courage, holding onto a family dynasty in these modern times.”

“I’m much obliged to ye,” said Sir Ian. “I shall act towards ye in good faith, that ye know. Dinna press me and ye’ll get every penny coming to ye.”

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“Well, Sir Ian, I’m a modern businessman,” declared Broderick. “I’ve little patience with outdated methods of mining and paying debts. Unless you can clear up your debts soon, I’ll have to take further steps.”

“Ye’ve warned me,” said Sir Ian. “Now, good day to ye, sir.”

None of the group in the hall had moved. They had listened in fascinated silence.

The next instant, Mr. Broderick came striding toward them. He halted abruptly at the entrance to the hallway. Lloyd, bag over shoulder, went up to him.

“You won’t have long to wait, Mr. Broderick,” Lloyd said. “You’ll be paid your money within a very short time, I guarantee it. So it won’t be necessary for you to take further steps to collect your money.”

“That’s it, my lad!” shouted Old Jock encouragingly to Lloyd. “The Barclays have a silver mine. It’s bonanza!”

“Is that true, Mr. Barclay?” Mr. Broderick asked, turning to Lloyd.

“Every word of it,” replied Lloyd.

The noise brought Sir Ian storming out of the library.

“What in the world is going on here?” he demanded, irate and amazed.

Before anyone else could answer, Mr. Broderick spoke up. “Sir Ian,” he said ruefully, “it appears you have a silver mine. A bonanza. And, as your nephew just told me, I’ll have the money you owe me very soon.

My business defi nitely is over now. Good day, Sir Ian, Mr. Barclay.” Nodding to Meg and Cherry, he started 188
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toward the door. Then he turned around suddenly and went up to Little Joe Tweed.

“Mr. Tweed, the other day when you and my pilot, Jerry Ives, came into the coffee shop in St. John’s, you said you wanted to make me a proposition. Well, I told you then that any proposition coming from you was bound to be crooked and I refused to let you say anything.

“Afterward, my pilot told me you had run into him on the wharf and began talking about having a lot of native silver to sell. He couldn’t get rid of you until he had brought you to see me. Now I know where you must have got the silver. You smuggled it out of the Barclays’ mine.”

With that, Mr. Broderick started once again toward the door, which Higgins hurried to open, and strode outside. Jerry Ives was waiting in one of the company

“Bugs” to take his boss to the Balfour airfi eld and fl y him back to St. John’s.

For several minutes after Mr. Broderick’s departure, the Barclay hall was in complete turmoil, with Little Joe shouting that Sir Ian had always had it in for him, even when he, Little Joe, was working in the mines.

And he was going to fi ght the Barclays in court. Little Joe’s men started to shout, too, and there was a great deal of shouting all round before Smith, the chauffeur, and Ramsay, the gardener, got the men in a car and took them off to the chief of police of the island.

When they had gone, Sir Ian exclaimed, “
Now
, ye people, tell me what this is all about! A silver mine.

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Smugglers. Those sacks, ye’ve brought. Jock here with Tammie. The lot of ye all bedraggled. I’ve never seen the likes of such a hullabaloo.”

“I’ll tell you, Uncle,” said Lloyd. He turned upon Cherry an admiring look that ignored tangled curls, the streaks of dirt, bedraggled clothes. And he said, “Since Miss Cherry Ames is the real heroine of this occasion, I think she should begin the story. It’s called ‘The Silver of the Mine.’ ”

The story that Cherry began was taken up by Old Jock after they had all washed and cleaned up, and were sitting comfortably in the library, waiting for Higgins to announce luncheon.

Old Jock told of becoming suspicious at fi rst of something going on in the Old Mine and in Rogues’ Cave when the series of accidents occurred in No. 2 mine.

“Every time we dug in the direction of the Old Mine,” Old Jock said, “something happened. And the same two men always were involved. At least, the other men reported carelessness or negligence by one or the other of these two miners. They were from St. John’s and I noticed they were very friendly with Little Joe Tweed. I began to wonder if those two miners had a reason for keeping us from extending Number Two mine any nearer the Old Mine.”

Old Jock explained that a vein of ore, which had been opened, might very well extend into the Old Mine. His vague suspicions led him to do a bit of investigating.

Soon he discovered that the
Heron
was frequently offshore. Then he saw a heavily laden rowboat leaving 190
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