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  THE GO AHEAD BOYS AND THE TREASURE CAVE

  BY

  ROSS KAY

  Author of "Dodging the North Sea Mines," "With Joffre on the BattleLine," "The Air Scout," "The Go Ahead Boys on Smugglers' Island," etc.,etc.

  The GOLDSMITH Publishing Co.

  New York N.Y.

  MADE IN U.S.A.

  Copyright, 1916 by BARSE & HOPKINS

  PREFACE

  The love of adventure is inborn in all normal boys. Action is almost asupreme demand in the stories they read with most pleasure. Recognizingthis primary demand, in this tale I have endeavored to keep in mind thisrequisite and at the same time to avoid sensational appeals. The unusualis not always the improbable. The Go Ahead Boys are striving to beactive without being unduly precocious or preternaturally endowed.

  ROSS KAY.

  CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE VOYAGE IS BEGUN 11 II A PLUCKY FEAT 20 III A SUPERSTITIOUS COOK 29 IV A CODE 37 V A TROPICAL STORM 46 VI ADRIFT 54 VII A DESPERATE STRUGGLE 64 VIII A SORRY PLIGHT 71 IX IN SEARCH OF LAND 81 X ASHORE 89 XI A SERIOUS MISHAP 98 XII A NEW HOME 107 XIII AN IRON CHEST 116 XIV AN ODD DISCOVERY 124 XV SAM REMEMBERS SOMETHING 133 XVI THE RIDDLE 143 XVII UNDERGROUND WORK 151 XVIII IN THE WATER 159 XIX SHARK 167 XX TALKING IT OVER 176 XXI A NEW MEMBER 184 XXII A CLUE 193 XXIII Progress 201 XXIV Solved 211 XXV On the Beach 220 XXVI The Spot Is Marked 230 XXVII Conclusion 240

  THE GO AHEAD BOYS AND THE TREASURE CAVE

  CHAPTER I

  THE VOYAGE IS BEGUN

  "A-a-ll ha-a-ands! Up anchor! A-ho-oy!"

  Instantly all was bustle and action on board the brig _Josephine_.The sailors ran hither and thither, the sails were loosed and the yardsbraced. The clanking of the windlass soon told that the anchor was beingraised.

  "Whew! I never saw so much excitement and hurry in all my life,"exclaimed a boy, who with three companions stood on the deck of the brigand looked on at these activities without actually taking part in themthemselves. The speaker was Fred Button. He was a tiny little fellow,known affectionately among his friends as Stub, or Peewee or Pygmy. Thislast name was frequently shortened into Pyg, much to Fred's disgust,though he had learned better than to lose his temper because of teasingor little things that did not just suit him. He had given up suchfoolishness long ago.

  With his three companions he had embarked on the _Josephine_ for avoyage to Buenos Aires in South America. The lure of the sea hadattracted these four boys and the desire to see something of foreignlands had spurred them on. They were on board in the capacity ofpassengers though it was also their desire to help the crew in whateverway they were able.

  Standing beside Fred Button was John Clemens, a boy who was as unusuallytall as Fred was short. He was extremely thin, however, and with his sixfeet three inches of height he looked like a string, according to hisfriends. In fact that was what they usually called him.

  Next to him was Grant Jones. Grant was about eighteen, the same age asthe other three boys though he was their leader in a great many ways. Nomatter what he attempted he always did it well. In school work heusually led his class and on the athletic field he far outshone theothers. His talents had won him the nickname of Socrates which, however,was usually shortened to Soc. "Old Soc Jones" was always a favorite.

  The fourth member of the group was George Washington Sanders. He wasalways good natured and his witty remarks had made him intensely popularwith all who knew him. In honor of the name he bore he sometimes hadbeen referred to as the father of his country, which appellation,however, had finally been corrupted to Pop.

  "It certainly is busy around here, isn't it?" exclaimed Grant Jones inresponse to Fred Button's remarks previously referred to.

  "And it's all mystery to me," added John Clemens. "These orders beingshouted and the strange things the men are doing are getting mebewildered."

  "I've been standing here expecting some one of the sailors to mistakeyou for a mast and hang a sail on you any minute, String," said PopSanders slyly, at the same time nudging Fred Button.

  "Is that so?" exclaimed John Clemens quickly. "At any rate, I'd ratherbe the shape of a mast than a bag of ballast."

  "That's the way, String," said Grant Jones encouragingly. "Don't let himget the better of you."

  "He never has and he never will," said John complacently.

  "Stop arguing," exclaimed Fred Button, "and tell me what kind of a boatthis is that we are on."

  "It's a sailing boat," said Pop Sanders. "Did you think it was asteamer?"

  "I mean what kind of a sailing boat is it. Is it a schooner or a bark,or what?"

  "It's a brig," said Socrates Jones. "You can always tell a brig from theway she is rigged. She has two masts and is square rigged."

  "I thought that was a brigantine," protested Fred.

  "No," said Grant. "A brigantine is very much the same though. She hastwo masts and is square rigged on the foremast, but schooner rigged onthe other."

  "Which is called the mainmast," said Fred.

  "Quite right," agreed Grant. "I'll make a sailor of you yet."

  The _Josephine_ was now sliding through the waters of New York Bay.The Statue of Liberty was just ahead on her right (or rather herstarboard side) while on the port side was Governor's Island, with itsold fort and parade ground plainly to be seen. Two big ocean linersloomed up a short distance away. One was just completing her voyage fromEurope while the other was only starting. Saucy little tugs rushedhither and thither. Ferryboats passed, bearing their precious burdens ofhuman freight. Great barges loaded to the water's edge were towed slowlyalong. Ahead could be seen many steamers lying at anchor in the lowerbay off the quarantine station, while now and again a sailing vesselsimilar to the one on which the Go Ahead boys were embarked could alsobe seen. They were not very numerous, however.

  "Well, what do you think of it, boys?" demanded a bluff, hearty voicebehind them. It was Captain Roger Dodge, the commander of the_Josephine_, who spoke to them. His face was bronzed by the sun andwind and his drooping mustache was faded to a straw color. His gray eyeswere the features that struck any one who observed him closely, however.A merry twinkle could be seen in them, but at the same time theirexpression denoted that their owner was a man who would never be afraidof anything on land or sea.

  "We think it's fine," exclaimed Fred Button speaking for the others.

  "It's a wonderful harbor all right," said Captain Dodge. "I think it'sjust about the finest in the world and I've seen most of them too."

  "What one do you like next to this, captain?" inquired Grant. Old SocJones was always eager to learn something.

  "Well," said the captain slowly, "I guess the harbor at Sydn
ey,Australia, next to this. Still San Francisco has a wonderful harbor,too. That golden gate out there is a sight worth seeing."

  "I wish I could see it," said Grant, wistfully. "Some day I hope to doit, too. Still, there are so many wonderful places in the world it'shard to say which ones you'd rather see first."

  "That's very true," agreed the captain. "I've seen a good many, but Ialways want to see more. I've knocked around the world so long that Idon't believe I could settle down and be happy now. I guess I've got thewanderlust all right."

  "It's easy to get," exclaimed Pop Sanders, serious for once. "We've allgot it ourselves."

  "How long have you been a sailor, captain?" asked John Clemens.

  "Thirty years. I started in as a cabin boy when I was fourteen years oldand I've been at it ever since."

  "You ought to know about all there is to know about it, I should think,"said Fred.

  "Without boasting at all, I can safely say that I do know a lot aboutthe business," said Captain Dodge, smilingly. "I've done about all thereis to do on a ship, I guess."

  "And you've had some wonderful experiences," suggested Grant.

  "Yes, I have," said the captain smilingly.

  "Will you tell us about them sometime?"

  "I should be glad to," said the captain readily. "Not now, though, for,as you can see, I am pretty busy," and the bluff sailor hurried away,shouting orders to his men, who all seemed to like him and take delightin carrying out his commands as quickly as possible.

  "Captain Dodge isn't much like the sea captains we used to read about inthe old story books, is he?" remarked Grant Jones.

  "Why not?" demanded Pop Sanders. "He certainly looks like a sailor."

  "I know that," agreed Grant, "but I meant the kind of a man the crew allhated and feared and who used to give them the rope's end every timethey did anything he didn't like."

  "That day has passed, I guess," laughed John Clemens. "Perhaps it'slucky for us, too, for we might get it ourselves."

  "Any one would have to be a pretty good shot to hit you with anything,String," said Pop Sanders teasingly.

  "Huh," snorted John, but he made no other reply.

  At this moment Captain Dodge approached.

  "We've got to anchor, boys," he said. "The wind is dead ahead of us herein the narrows and I think I'll wait till it shifts."

  "We might all go to Coney Island then," exclaimed Fred Button eagerly.

  "And the wind might change almost any minute and we'd sail off and leaveyou behind," laughed Captain Dodge. "Coney Island is just around thatpoint, though, and you could row there in a little while."

  "I guess we'll stay aboard if you're thinking of leaving us," said Fred."I'd rather go to Buenos Aires than Coney Island."

  "That's what I say," exclaimed John Clemens.

  "Can't we do something to help around here?" asked Grant. "We're onlyamateur sailors, but we're anxious to do what we can."

  "I know you are," said Captain Dodge. "I expect you to take your regularturns on watch with the rest of the crew. Just now I want the sailstaken in, though. Do you suppose one of you could go up that foremast?"

  "I could," cried Fred quickly. "Let me go."

  "Think you can take in that topsail?"

  "I can help."

  "That's all I want, of course. There'll be a sailor up there with you totell you what to do and perhaps you can be of assistance to him."

  "I'd like to try it, anyway," said Fred eagerly.

  "All right," said the captain. "Mr. Johnson," he called to the firstmate, who was a big blonde-haired Swede, "this young man wants to goaloft. Will you let him help your man take in that fore-topsail?"

  "Yes, sir," came the quick reply, and Fred ran to the foot of the mast,where Mr. Johnson, the mate, and a sailor named Petersen were standing.

  "Follow me," said Petersen, and he began to climb. Up the rigging hewent, with Fred close behind him. It was hard work for the inexperiencedboy to keep pace with the hardy sailor, and he was well-nigh exhaustedwhen at last they stood upon the yards.

  "That's hard work," panted Fred.

  "You'll get used to it," smiled the sailor. "There's a knack about it."

  "What do we do now?" demanded Fred.

  "Wait till we get our orders. The captain will bring 'er up into thewind in a minute and that's when we get to work."

  "What shall I do?"

  "You grab all the loose sail you can, right in your arms, and try tohold it there. They'll let go below."

  Fred felt dizzy, standing so high above the decks, and he clung to theropes which were all about him, for dear life. He heartily wished thathe was once more with his comrades, but it was too late now. He must gothrough with it, and he was determined, if possible, not to betray hisnervousness.

  "Stand by!" came the faint call from below.

  "Hang on now," cautioned Petersen. "They're going to bring 'er 'round."

  The steersman put the helm hard over and the _Josephine_ swungrapidly around with her bow into the wind. In spite of the warning Freddid not hold on as tightly as he should. He felt himself slipping. Heclutched madly at the maze of ropes which entirely surrounded him. Hetried to call out, but no sound came. Desperately he strove to savehimself, but his efforts were unavailing.