The Boy Chums in the Gulf of Mexico

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  "Charley leveled his gun and sent sixteen shriekingbullets just above the wheelman's head."]

  The Boy Chums In the Gulf of Mexico

  OR

  On a Dangerous Cruise with the Greek Spongers

  BY WILMER M. ELY

  Author of "The Boy Chums on Indian River," "The Boy Chums on Haunted Island," "The Boy Chums in the Forest," "The Boy Chums' Perilous Cruise."

  A. L. BURT COMPANY NEW YORK

  Copyright 1913

  BY A. L. BURT COMPANY

  THE BOY CHUMS IN THE GULF OF MEXICO

  CONTENTS

  I. 3 II. MR. DRIVER. 11 III. PREPARATIONS 19 IV. THE START 27 V. THE START 36 VI. FIRST TROUBLE 45 VII. SPONGING 53 VIII. TROUBLE 61 IX. MANUEL'S RELEASE 68 X. A RASH RESOLVE 76 XI. A MYSTERY 84 XII. IN A DIVING SUIT 94 XIII. A CLOSE CALL 100 XIV. THE DISCUSSION 107 XV. A DESPERATE PLAN 115 XVI. TOO LATE 122 XVII. OUTWITTED 129 XVIII. IMPRISONED 136 XIX. WRECKED 144 XX. HUNTING HELP 152 XXI. THE CASTAWAYS 159 XXII. ANOTHER DANGER 167 XXIII. THE RELAPSE 175 XXIV. THE FLOOD 182 XXV. THE FLOATING HATCH 189 XXVI. WITH THE BOYS 197 XXVII. THE JOURNEY 205 XXVIII. JUDSON 212 XXIX. THE FEUD 219 XXX. BESIEGED 225 XXXI. THE ENEMIES 233 XXXII. THE CASTAWAYS AGAIN 240 XXXIII. THE RESCUE 247 XXXIV. CONCLUSION 255

  THE BOY CHUMS

  IN THE GULF OF MEXICO

  CHAPTER I.

  "IT'S just like stepping suddenly into a strange country. I am glad wecame even if we decide not to go into the business."

  The speaker, a sturdy, manly-looking boy of eighteen, was one of aparty of four persons who were strolling along a street in the Greeksection of Tarpon Springs, a small Florida town, located on theAnclote River, a few miles from the Gulf of Mexico. His companionswere a boy about his own age but of less robust appearance, a littlenegro lad with a good-humored intelligent face, and a middle-aged,heavily-bearded, blue-eyed man whose tattooed arms and rolling gaittold of a life spent on tossing seas and whose confident bearing andair of authority stamped him as one above the rank of a common sailor.

  Those who have followed The Boy Chums through their many adventureswill recognize in the little party their old friends Charley West,Walter Hazard, Captain Westfield and the Bahama lad, Chris, who latelyreturned from a perilous trip along the Atlantic beach searching forwreckage, and now seeking some promising venture in which to invest theFifteen Hundred Dollars they earned on that voyage.

  "You're right, Charley," agreed the other boy. "I didn't know beforethat there was a sight like this in Florida. Here's a bench. Let's setdown and rest a bit. I am tired from walking."

  "Golly, I reckon dis nigger's tired some too," chimed in the littledarkey, "I'se dun had de toothache in mah legs for most an hour, butI'se had to keep up wid you-alls. Don't dare let you white chillenprognostracate 'round a queer place like dis alone."

  The seat selected was a long bench standing on the edge of thesidewalk, its back to the sandy street. The four seated themselves atone end and gazed around with eager interest at the strange scene,unconscious of the curious glances bestowed upon them by a large,deeply-tanned man, who, seated on the other end of the bench, waslanguidly whittling on a piece of white pine with a large sheaf knife.

  The scene was one to arouse more than passing interest. Up and downthe sidewalk hurried swarthy-faced, powerfully-built men of all agesand appearances, but all possessed of the same clear-cut features andstraight noses. Singly and in groups of two and three, they hurriedpast, picturesque in their bright-colored clothing with gaudy sashesknotted about their waists. About all clustered an air of energy andbustle uncommon to sleepy Florida towns.

  Built up close to the inner edge of the sidewalk was a row of largebuildings startling in their coats of bright yellow, red, blue, andgreen paint. Stretching away, close together in the distance, theygave one the impression of a gigantic rainbow. Through their wide-opendoors and windows the interested onlookers could gain a plain view ofthe interiors, from which came the confused jangle of foreign tongues.To the right of where the little party sat was a busy grocery store,its windows filled with strings of dried garlic, strange-lookingcheeses, queer nuts and fruits and a multitude of eatables strange toAmerican eyes. To the left of them was a tobacco factory, the whirlingmachines shredding up the huge brown leaves into hair-like fibers andbinding them up into pound packages. Directly before them was a greathall filled with little tables around which were seated groups of theregular-featured men, playing cards, eating, or puffing at strangepipes, with a small hose for a stem, the smoke passing through greatglass vessels partly filled with rose water before it reached thesmoker's lips.

  "That's the fifteenth place of that kind I've counted to-day," remarkedCharley West. "From their numbers, one would imagine that these peopledid nothing but eat and play cards."

  "I'd like to try one of them pipes," said Captain Westfield, wistfully."I'll bet they give a good, cool smoke."

  "Let's go in and get dinner," Walter suggested. "I am hungry as a wolfand that food smells mighty good. You can try a pipe after we eat,Captain."

  The man at the end of the bench shifted his position closer to them.

  "Strangers here?" he enquired.

  "Just came in this morning. We're looking into the sponge business abit," replied the Captain.

  Charley eyed the tanned man closely. There was a sinister expression tothe fellow's face, and his eyes shifted uneasily away from the lad'slevel glance. The keen-witted boy was not favorably impressed with thestranger's appearance, but the man's cordiality drove away his faintfeeling of distrust.

  "I'll go in with you then," he offered. "Those fellows don't speak muchEnglish and you would have a hard job making them understand what youwanted. I know a little Greek and may be able to help you out a bit."

  "Much obliged to you," said the Captain, gratefully. "We don'tunderstand a word of their lingo. I'll stand treat to the dinner ifyou'll eat with us."

  "It's a go," agreed the stranger, quickly. "Come on. My name's Robert,Captain Roberts," he volunteered when the little party were seatedaround one of the tables, "I'm a retired ship's master."

  Captain Westfield introduced himself and his companions. "As I said, weare lookin' into this sponge business a bit, but it's hard to pick outthe proper course from these twisted-tongued furriners," he said. "Doyou happen to know anything about it?"

  "I used to be in the business myself," Captain Roberts repliedpromptly. "I made enough money in it to quit the sea for good."

  "Then I reckon you're the very man to give us a few pointers. Is thereas much money in it as one hears tell of?"

  "More," declared the other. "These Greeks are getting rich offsponging. It is not anything unusual for a schooner's crew to clear upthree or four thousand dollars from a single trip. It takes quite a bitof money to make a start, though."

  "We have got a little change in our clothes," said the Captain,modestly. "Do you reckon a person could get started good on a Thousanddollars?"

  "That would do nicely," declared Captain Roberts, "and I can tell youjust how to lay it out to the best advantage, but let's order di
nnerfirst. We can talk while we are eating."

  He beckoned to a dark-skinned, ill-favored waiter and gave an order inlow-pitched fluent Greek.

  The waiter was back almost instantly with a tray-load of steamingdishes which he placed upon the table. The boys could not determinethe exact nature of the strange viands, but they were too hungry to becritical, and attacked the food with hearty appetites.

  "This mutton stew is delicious," Charley declared as he took anotherhelping. "I don't know as I ever tasted anything better."

  Captain Roberts grinned. "You don't want to make any guesses aboutGreek food," he declared. "That isn't mutton, but just tough oldBilly-goat, fattened on a diet of tin cans. These fellows have theknack of fixing up such things so they can't recognize them themselves.Just wait till the coffee is served. You'll say you never drank anybetter. But let's get back to that sponging business now, Captain."

  He and Captain Westfield were soon plunged in a tangled maze of talkabout schooners, diving boats, sponges, and divers.

  The boys gave but little heed to the discussion for their attention waspartly diverted by the unusual scene around them.

  "It's just like being in another country," Walter whispered to his chum.

  "Yes, but I don't like the attention we seem to receive," Charleyreplied. "Those fellows are staring at us as though there was somethingwrong in our being here."

  The Greeks gathered around the other tables indeed seemed more thancasually interested in the little party. They stared frequently at themand their new acquaintance, and exchanged significant glances and lowwords with each other.

  "I guess we appear as odd to them as they do to us," Walter said,carelessly. "There is a man who is not a Greek. That fellow leaningagainst the end of the counter in the corner."

  The man indicated was unmistakably an American. He was short,heavily-built and had a determined, aggressive face. He was engaged ina heated discussion with the proprietor of the cafe and his heavy facewas flushed with anger. As the boys gazed curiously, he brought downhis clenched fist on the counter with a force that shattered some ofthe dishes piled upon it.

  "You needn't smirk, grin, and make excuses," he thundered at the suave,smiling Greek. "You've got to pay me that bill you owe me. It's beenstanding for months and I happen to know that you are making money allthe time, hand over fist. It's no use pretending you don't understandme," he shouted, as the smiling Greek shrugged his shoulders. "You knowwhat I say. If you don't come up with the money by to-morrow night I'llclose up this place and have you prosecuted for obtaining goods underfalse pretences. And it will not be any use for you to try your nicelittle Greek trick of a knife in my back in the dark. I go heeled andI don't go to sleep when I walk this street. The fellow who tries thattrick on me will stop enough lead to start a cartridge factory."

  He turned and was walking towards the door when his glance rested for amoment on the boys and their companions. His glance swept swiftly overeach member of the little party. He paused, hesitated a moment, thenturning, walked swiftly towards their table.

  Captain Roberts rose hastily at his approach. "There's a friend of mineover there," he said hurriedly, "who I want to speak to. I'll be backin a minute."

  The approaching stranger noted his departure with a grim smile. Hestopped beside the Captain and stood gazing down for one brief minute.

  "Are you fools or strangers?" he demanded, crisply.