Cyro

CHAPTER VI PAWNED WEALTH

WITHIN the study, Danforth Gaudrin and Dunwood Marr were reclining in easy chairs. The two had lighted fresh cigars. Tall glasses in hand, they had settled down to a comfortable chat. Yet there was a contrast in their bearing.

Gaudrin, elderly and aristocratic, seemed troubled; while Marr, vigorous and pleasant, was enjoying himself immensely. The reason for the difference was financial. Danforth Gaudrin was at the end of his resources; Dunwood Marr was a reputed millionaire.

“Marr,” Gaudrin opened negotiations, “I feel that I owe you an explanation.”

“On what score?” quizzed Marr, in surprise.

“Regarding the Nautilus,” stated Gaudrin. “I have had word from Captain Emory.”

“Nothing has happened to the yacht?”

“No; but the arrival will be delayed.”

“That does not matter. I do not need the yacht immediately.”

Gaudrin gave a slight sigh of relief. He clicked the ice in his glass; then leaned forward and spoke directly.

“Marr,” stated the old aristocrat, “I appreciate your friendship. It has served me in a time of great need. When you purchased the Nautilus, one month ago, you did me a marvelous favor.”

“I don’t agree, Danforth,” replied Marr. “The favor was yours. You offered me the Nautilus for twenty thousand dollars. A mere half of its value. Naturally. I made the purchase.”

“But I promised you delivery of the yacht within thirty days, or your money back with interest—”

“And you tell me now that I must wait a little longer to receive the ship. That is a trifling matter.”

“You don’t understand, Marr,” said Gaudrin, in a kindly tone. “I have kept the real facts from you. Purely as a matter of policy, you understand. I have been striving for something, Marr; the goal is almost attained. I want you, as my friend, to hear the details.”

Marr looked interested, though puzzled. Danforth Gaudrin smiled.

“I am telling you no secret,” declared the elderly man, “when I state that I have been living on the verge of poverty. Not just for the past month; but for nearly two years. My finances have long since reached the stage of exhaustion.”

“I understand, Danforth. If there is anything—”

“No. You have done enough. Two years ago, Marr, I reached the point where my resources consisted chiefly of this house and my yacht; the Nautilus. I could have sold the yacht. Instead, I kept it and chartered it for cruises. I made just enough to keep the yacht in service.

“You chartered the Nautilus a year ago, Marr. That is how we came to meet. You said that you and your guests enjoyed the cruise in the Gulf of Mexico. You — like others — wondered why I did not extend those trips to the Caribbean.”

“I recall that,” nodded Marr.

“Well,” stated Gaudrin, “the answer is simple. While you and others were enjoying your pleasure cruises, the Nautilus was also serving me. It was prospecting, under the command of Captain Peters Emory, in an effort to restore my lost resources.”

“Prospecting!” exclaimed Marr. “A yacht — prospecting—”

“I thought that would interest you,” interposed Gaudrin. “A man who has made his wealth through Mexican mines, as you have, should be intrigued by the idea of hunting for gold with a yacht. That, Marr, is exactly what the Nautilus has been doing all along.”

THE old aristocrat paused to take a swallow from his glass. He smiled dryly as he leaned back in his chair. Then he continued.

“More than one hundred years ago,” he declared, “a Spanish ship named the Don Carlos left Cadiz on a special errand. Its object was to regain lost treasure from the wreck of a Spanish galleon that lay off the coast of Hispaniola. The Don Carlos succeeded in its mission.

“Presumably a merchantman, the Don Carlos cruised westward and rounded Cuba, en route to Havana. There, the ship encountered a storm. In a sinking condition, it put in toward the Gulf Coast. It reached some obscure place that offered safety; there it sank, close by land.

“The crew took to the small boats. Only a few had survived; those men were the possessors of a great secret. They knew where the wreck of the Don Carlos lay. They were sure that they could regain the treasure for themselves. So they decided not to return to Spain.

“They fell in with the crew of a pirate ship belonging to the famous Jean Lafitte. They joined that band and all was well until one of the Spaniards decided to betray his companions. He made a deal with certain of his new pirate friends. They were to supply a ship and aid him in a secret expedition to regain the treasure. That led to trouble.”

“The other Spaniards discovered the treachery?” Marr put in.

“Exactly! A battle followed. In the melee, all of the Spanish survivors were slain. Not one man remained who knew where the wreck of the Don Carlos lay. Hard after that came the disintegration of Jean Lafitte’s pirate band.

“The secret of the Don Carlos came down through generations. But no one who learned it possessed the means to search for the lost vessel. Some years ago; I heard the story. I bought the Nautilus and assigned Captain Emory to the treasure hunt.

“My resources failed. But I clung to the Nautilus, chartering it for cruises under Emory’s command, hoping that he might locate the missing treasure. One month ago, he returned from a cruise with the news that he had located the wreck.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Marr. “Do you know, this explains some odd events that happened on the cruise I took. Emory was always going on launch trips whenever the Nautilus was at anchor near an island. He said that he was studying navigable passages.”

“That was his pretext,” smiled Gaudrin. “He was actually seeking the Spanish wreck. But let me proceed. When Emory returned from the last cruise, bringing the good tidings, I was forced to inform him that the Nautilus was under attachment for the sum of fifteen thousand dollars.”

“I DID not know that, Danforth.”

“Of course not, Marr. I wired you in Florida. You were kind enough to come to New Orleans. I offered you the yacht for twenty thousand dollars. You agreed to purchase it.”

“On a bargain basis.”

“Perhaps. But you conceded to my terms. They were quite unusual, I must admit — cash down, with the yacht to be delivered in one month.”

“I remember. But you explained that, Danforth. You told me that you had chartered the yacht to a British professor, Pearson Babcock, who intended to go on a coral hunting cruise. He had come here from London. You did not want to disappoint him.”

“That is true. I used Babcock as an excuse.”

“Then he did not take the present cruise?”

“Yes, indeed. He is aboard the Nautilus studying his corals. Emory and I decided that he should most certainly make the trip.”

“Why so?”

“Because I invested some of the five thousand — the money of yours that remained after I paid the attachment — in special diving equipment.”

“Yes. I remember that. You said that Professor Babcock needed it for gathering coral.”

“Another excuse, Marr. Babcock’s cruise had been publicized. By going through with it, Emory and I were able to offset the comment that would have arisen had Emory alone set out equipped to scour the bottom of the Gulf.”

Dunwood Marr chuckled in admiration. He took a swallow from his glass; then declared:

“You took me in completely, Danforth. I saw that new equipment for the Nautilus. I fell for the coral story. Well, good luck to the enterprise” — Marr raised his glass — “and you are welcome to keep the Nautilus at sea until she finds the treasure.”

“Thank you, Marr,” said Gaudrin, warmly. “Your kindness assures my success. You are not pressing me for the twenty thousand dollars—”

“Of course not. Unload your treasure — here’s hoping Emory finds it — then deliver me the yacht. I had not intended to use it for some time to come.”

“It is not a case of seeking the treasure, Marr. Emory has already found it. A radio message informed me that the gold will soon be raised from the wreck of the Don Carlos.”

MARR was speechless. He arose from his chair and extended his hand to Gaudrin. The two men gave the clasp of friendship.

“I am worth millions, Marr,” declared Gaudrin. “Much of my gain will go toward restoring my former losses. But I shall be wealthy, even after repaying Captain Emory and his faithful crew. As for you — well, Marr, I shall have a present for you.”

“A present?”

“Yes. The Nautilus. I shall return your twenty thousand dollars when I give you the papers to the yacht.”

Marr began a protest, trying to make Gaudrin retract his generous offer. The elderly host would not listen. Shaking his head, he filled up the glasses.

Marr finally subsided in his protests. He chuckled as he thought of Danforth Gaudrin’s good fortune. Then, suddenly, Marr’s face clouded.

“Your son Luke,” he questioned, seriously. “Does he know about this treasure?”

“No,” declared Gaudrin, emphatically. “He knows nothing.”

“That is good,” decided Marr. “Of course, Alicia could be trusted.”

“I have not mentioned the matter to her.”

“Then no one knows, outside of Professor Babcock?”

“That is correct. Of course—”

Marr looked quizzical as Gaudrin paused.

“I was thinking about Exeter,” explained Gaudrin. “It is possible that he knows something of the matter.”

“Through whom?”

“Through Babcock. You met Babcock — the professor—”

“Yes. Owlface — big glasses — looks like a fossil—”

“A good description, Marr. Well, Babcock was harmless, so I took him into my confidence. The treasure meant nothing to him. He was completely lost in the idea of gathering coral. But Exeter had intended to go on the cruise with Babcock.”

“Is Exeter an Englishman?”

“No. He is an Australian. He happened to be in New Orleans at the time the professor arrived — while the Nautilus was still out on cruise. Exeter read an account of Babcock’s arrival that appeared in the Picayune. He came to see Babcock, who was staying here.”

“He knew Babcock?”

“No. But he had met friends of the professor in Australia. Babcock liked Exeter and invited him to go on the coral cruise. Afterward, I urged the professor to revoke the invitation.”

“How did Exeter take it?”

“Very decently. Babcock handled it rather poorly; Exeter caught the point and said himself that he would have to change his mind about the cruise. He said that he might have to go to England at any time, so he preferred to remain in New Orleans.”

“And you invited him to stay here?”

“Alicia did. She likes Exeter immensely. He has proven to be a real gentleman. He volunteered to act as chauffeur during his stay. As yet, he has not received word from London.”

“Perhaps that was just an excuse to relieve the professor’s embarrassment.”

“Probably. And Alicia just won’t let the young chap leave us. If I explain circumstances to her, she would become indignant if I suggested that Exeter might be waiting to see the treasure.”

“And I think she would be right,” decided Marr. “If Exeter appears all right and has no friends here in New Orleans, he can hardly be a schemer.”

“Then you would let matters rest as they are?” inquired Gaudrin. “Regarding Alicia and Reginald Exeter?”

“YES. Well, Danforth, again allow me to congratulate you. Tomorrow I shall fly back to New Orleans. Wire me after the Nautilus arrives.”

“I shall wire you before. In fact, Marr, I shall expect you back as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“To see my ship come in. To receive your twenty thousand dollars. You can cruise back to Florida in the Nautilus. By the way, Marr, how would you like to receive payment in Spanish doubloons and pieces-of-eight?”

“Great!” exclaimed Marr. “Do you know, Danforth, that suggestion makes me almost willing to accept the money that you offer.”

“Almost willing?” inquired Gaudrin. “Look here, young man, you’ll take that twenty thousand if I have to load it in the cabin of the Nautilus.”

“I’ll settle the argument,” chuckled Marr. “How much do you expect to salvage from that wreck?”

“Perhaps two million dollars,” replied Gaudrin. “Based on the present level of gold valuation.”

“Then here’s the bargain,” decided Marr. “If you gross over two million, I shall take the twenty thousand. I don’t need the money, Danforth. My Mexican mines are bringing me more than I know what to do with. But if you gross over two million, I shall agree that you can spare twenty thousand.”

“Very well,” smiled Gaudrin. “We made one bargain with the Nautilus and you accepted my terms. This is another bargain and I shall accept yours. Come. Let us go out upon the lawn.”

Chairs slid back. Glasses plunked upon the table. The two men strolled from the study. Then came a slight sound beyond the locked door in the far corner.

IN the passageway, Luke Gaudrin rose stealthily. He turned and made his way to the parlor. He closed the door behind him. In sneaky fashion, he went into the hall. Seeing no one, Luke shuffled out to the front porch.

There the sallow-faced young man dug into his pocket and produced a few dollars. Luke smiled sourly; then shrugged his shoulders. He walked along the driveway, headed for the avenue and waited until a passing taxi appeared.

Luke clambered aboard, gave an address and settled back in the rear seat. His smile denoted pleasure. Apparently, Luke Gaudrin, like his father, was looking forward to a prosperous future, thanks to the incoming Spanish wealth.