a solitary clue,” he exclaimed with a heavy sigh as, dust-covered and perspiring from his exertions, he sank down at the long dining table in the main cabin. For a time he appeared lost in thought and the others stood about silently. To Jack it was almost awe-inspiring, to see this over-mastering man of affairs, who bullied whole corporations into his way of thinking, sitting there in the cabin of the derelict schooner utterly at a loss, and apparently defeated. At length Mr. Jukes spoke. His first words were a surprise:
“I suppose you all have heard of my brother, Jerushah Jukes?” he asked.
“The traveler and explorer?” asked Captain Sparhawk. “I guess every one in America knows of him, Mr. Jukes.”
Paying no attention to the captain’s reply, the millionaire went on.
“The papers reported some months ago that he had set out for Central Africa.”
“I read the account,” said Jack, “but – ”
Mr. Jukes waved his hand. The boy fell into an abashed silence; in a second the millionaire had changed once more from a crushed, defeated human being into Jacob Jukes, millionaire and king of commerce.
“He did not go to Africa,” he said. “Instead, his destination was the South Pacific. He chartered this schooner, the Centurion, and the last I heard of him was when he set sail from San Francisco. If no news of him was received within a certain time I promised him to come in search of him. You see,” he added with a simplicity new from him, “he was my younger brother and I promised my mother on her death-bed always to look after him.”
There was a pause. In the silence of the long-deserted cabin they could hear the dismal creak of the neglected rudder and the bang-banging of the swinging spars above.
“We were poor then, miserably poor, and my mother never lived to see the rise of our fortunes, for as I advanced in business I helped my brother up, too. But his bent was not for finance. He had a streak of the adventurous in him. But I put it to paying purpose. I seldom lose on any venture.” Unconsciously as it seemed, the hard vein in Jacob Jukes had cropped out again. “I decided to put my brother on a paying basis. The results were good. Concessions in South America, gold mines in Alaska, and certain South African enterprises were put through, largely through his instrumentality.
“And now, to get down to the present time. The Centurion was chartered to obtain for Mrs. Jukes, who has a craze for expensive and rare jewelry, the ‘Tear of the Sea,’ the most famous pearl of the South Seas. I had obtained information of its whereabouts in the Pomoutou Archipelago through means which are not important to relate here. I thought that an expedition to purchase the ‘Tear of the Sea’ and, incidentally, other pearls, would be a good investment and keep my brother, who was getting restless, in occupation.
“In the meantime, however, a dishonest employee managed to get wind of what was about to take place and furnished the information to a firm of European jewelers with agents in New York and all over the world. From that moment, I rushed through the Centurion’s expedition with all possible speed, for I knew the conditions of competition in the Pacific. There is little more law among pearl traders than there is north of fifty-three. My brother knew this as well as I did and realised the necessity for haste. Moreover, we knew that the European firm was anxious to obtain, for a royal customer, the very pearl that I was after. In addition, this firm was known as one of the most unscrupulous in gaining its ends, and maintained, in the South Pacific, a system of spies and bullies which brought most of the pearl hunters’ prizes into their hands. Ugly stories have been told of their methods of gaining their ends – and – and I am afraid the fate of the Centurion will have to be added to the black list.”
“There is nothing in the papers to show what happened to your brother, sir?” asked Captain Sparhawk presently.
“Nothing. They are merely formal documents, ship’s papers, clearance bills and so forth. There is no memorandum relating to the pearl in any way.”
Captain Sparhawk knitted his brows. For a minute he appeared lost in deep thought.
“Do you mind telling us the name of that firm, sir?” he asked at last.
“There is nothing we can prove against them,” said the millionaire. “They work without their hands showing in any of their ugly transactions. Their name, however, is F – & Freres.”
“Of Amsterdam?” queried the captain.
“The same. They have practically a monopoly of the pearl trade of Europe.”
“I know that, sir,” said the captain, clenching his hands. “They tried to work their tricks on a ship-mate of mine who went a-pearl trading. But, sir, to change the subject, did you ever hear of ‘Bully’ Broom?”
The millionaire shook his head.
“I have; and have good cause to remember him,” said the captain. “But none of that at this time. Sir,” he continued earnestly, “your brother may be as safe and sound as we are. He may have the pearl. But if neither of these things have happened, Bully Broom is the man to look for if we have to hunt him all over the Pacific. I’ve sailed these seas and know that ‘Bully’ Broom did F – & Co.’s dirty work for them. He calls himself a trader, but, like lots of others doing business under that name in these waters, ‘Pirate’ would be a sight better name for him.”
“And you think that this man ‘Bully’ Broom, as you call him, has something to do with this mysterious disappearance of my brother?” asked Mr. Jukes, who had listened with deep attention, willing to hear of any clue, however slight.
“I ain’t dead sure,” said the captain, “but it’s my impression that if the firm you spoke of was after this ‘Tear of the Sea,’ then ‘Bully’ Broom knows where Jerushah Jukes is,” and he brought his lean, gnarled fist down with a thump on the table.
The old ginger came back into Mr. Jukes’ eyes, the wonted crisp authority into his voice as he snapped out:
“That being the case, we’ll find ‘Bully’ Broom.”
“No matter where we have to go?” asked Captain Sparhawk, raising his eyebrows.
“We’ll scour the whole Pacific if necessary. But nobody of the Sea Gypsy’s crew need accompany her against his will. All I ask is that they remain till we can touch at some civilised port, such as Papeiti or Honolulu and ship a man in his place. Do you boys wish to stick?”
“To the finish,” came from Jack, and Raynor, standing beside him, nodded his assent.
As for Captain Sparhawk, he simply reached out one of his brown hands toward the millionaire, who clasped it, and said:
“I’m with you till the bottom drops out of the ship.”
“Thank you, Sparhawk. It’s what I expected of you all,” said Mr. Jukes quietly, but his voice shook.
Thus, in the desolated cabin of the derelict Centurion, there was ratified a bargain that was to lead the boys into strange seas and stranger adventures.
CHAPTER VII. – AN OLD ENEMY ODDLY MET
The lads stood on the stern deck of the Sea Gypsy, gazing behind them. On the horizon hovered a tall, black column of smoke. It marked the last resting place of the Centurion, for Mr. Jukes, after ransacking the cabin of everything associated with his brother, had decided to burn the
