Chapter 22 The Quest of the Missing Map by Carolyn Keene
Treachery
“Wish I were going along,” Carson Drew said enviously as he bade his daughter farewell at the station on the appointed day. “Have a good time and bring home the treasure!”
“At least I’ll get a good tan,” Nancy laughed, squeezing her father’s hand and kissing him.
The party, consisting of Mrs. Chatham, Trixie, the three Smiths, Bill Tomlin and Nancy’s own group of young friends, had a gay train ride to New York. Wednesday morning they taxied to the dock, there obtaining their first glimpse of the Primrose.
“Isn’t she beautiful!” Nancy exclaimed, gazing at the trim yacht. “And there’s Captain Stryver waving to us!”
The Primrose proved to be a comfortable, seaworthy craft which plowed through deep waves with scarcely a roll. Even so, Mrs. Chatham, a poor sailor, soon was confined to her cabin with a mild case of seasickness.
Left mostly to themselves, Nancy and her young friends thoroughly enjoyed the daylight hours on deck. That night they danced and held an impromptu entertainment. Tom More, one of Ned’s college friends, proved to be a talented piano player, and was pressed into service to accompany Ellen.
“Sing us something about the sea,” George urged the girl. “Something with plenty of vim and vigor.”
“I might try the Boston Come-All-Ye,” laughed the Smith girl. “That is, if I can remember the words.”
While Tom played chords on the piano she sang the first few verses of a well-known sailors’ song which began:
“ ‘Come, all ye young sailor-men, listen to me,
I’ll sing you a song of the fish of the sea.
Then blow ye winds westerly, westerly blow,
We’re bound to the south’ard, so steady she goes!’ ”
“What is the history of that song?” Tom More inquired when Ellen had responded to several encores.
“It was sung by the men who followed the fishing fleets,” she explained. “The chorus is thought to be of Scottish origin.”
The young people would not allow Ellen to escape until she had obliged them with many other selections. Finally she pleaded off, saying that she was very tired.
“I guess you have good reason to be,” Bess Marvin commented rather bluntly. “You had to chase Trixie all day.”
It was true that the child had caused the young people a great deal of annoyance. Shortly after luncheon she had alarmed Ellen by disappearing. When everyone feared she had been washed overboard, she was discovered hiding in a lifeboat, and said she was only playing a game.
The second day at sea Nancy came on deck to find a dark, evil-faced sailor at the wheel of the Primrose. She did not like his appearance and recalled that Captain Stryver had been compelled to hire the burly fellow because another man could not be found quickly.
“Good morning,” she greeted him pleasantly. “Have you seen Captain Stryver?”
“No, Miss, and I ain’t likely to,” he answered, a suggestion of satisfaction in his voice.
“Why, where is he?”
“Sick in his cabin,” said the sailor. He spun the wheel, bringing the boat more to the east. “The mate’s flat on his back, too,” the man added.
“How strange that both of them should be taken ill! Surely they’re not seasick?”
“Guess it’s something they ate—anyway, the cook got a dressin’ down for serving up tainted food.”
Nancy walked aft. Meeting Ned, she mentioned the illness of the two officers.
“It certainly seems odd that of all the persons aboard those two alone should be sick,” she commented thoughtfully. “We all ate the same food last night.”
“There’s something else queer too, if you ask me!” Ned responded soberly. “Have you noticed anything funny about this boat?”
“Why, no,” Nancy returned, surprised by the question. “We seem to have changed our direction a little.”
“A little! Unless I’m mixed in my directions we’re a lot off! I think I’ll talk with Tom More. He’s been charting our course since we left New York.”
The young man was gone perhaps fifteen minutes. When he rejoined Nancy, Tom More was with him.
“I was right,” Ned announced grimly. “Tom thinks we’re off our course. You know, he has run boats all his life, and studied navigation.”
“Let’s talk to that fellow at the wheel,” proposed Tom, leading the way. “I want to ask him a few questions.”
Upon being interviewed, Snorky took the sullen attitude that guiding the Primrose was his responsibility and not that of anyone else.
“We may be a mite off our course,” he admitted, “but not enough to do any harm. I’ll swing her back as soon as I can.”
“You’ll swing her back now!” young More ordered sharply. “Unless you do, we’ll talk to the captain.”
Angrily Snorky brought the bow of the Primrose more to the south. However, no sooner had the young people moved away than the sailor again altered the course. Tom, who felt the lurch of the vessel as it turned, was sufficiently irritated to do battle.
“Please don’t get into a fight with Snorky,” Nancy pleaded. “We’ll talk with the captain. If he’ll allow us to examine the chart, we’ll be certain we’re making no mistake.”
Without delay the young people went below to see Captain Stryver. Barely able to sit up in bed, the officer nevertheless declared that he would be able to get about within a few hours.
“I’m worried about things,” he confessed before Tom could explain the difficulty. “I’ve got to get up on deck.”
“We’re worried too,” Nancy declared quickly. “The man at the wheel, Snorky, seems to be steering the boat straight east.”
“East!” the captain exclaimed. “Help me out of this bed and we’ll find out about that!”
“No, you mustn’t exert yourself when you’re so weak,” Nancy protested. “If Tom may have the chart, I’m sure he can check up on the matter.”
“The chart is in the desk,” the captain mumbled, sinking back on the pillow. “Ask the mate to come here.”
The young people did not tell the captain that the mate was even sicker than he. Instead they obtained the chart and went on deck.
“I was right!” Tom cried in a few seconds. “We’re several points off our course.”
“What shall we do?” Nancy asked in despair. “I feel sure Snorky deliberately is trying to delay us. But there’s no other sailor who can be spared to take his place.”
“I can steer the Primrose,” Tom declared confidently. “There’s nothing to it. Come on, we’ll take care of Snorky!”
He and Ned went forward, having a brief argument with the sailor. When the fellow refused to give up the wheel, they bodily removed him and Tom took over.
All went well throughout the day, save that Snorky glowered angrily as he washed down decks. Nancy could not help feeling that the man meant to get revenge for the humiliation which had been forced upon him.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s the one responsible for the Captain’s illness,” she confided to Bess. “He may have bribed the cook to put something in his food.”
The next morning Tom More suddenly was taken sick while at the wheel of the Primrose. His attack was a mild one, and he refused to leave his post, yet it served to convince the girls anew that someone aboard the vessel was resorting to treachery.
Unknown to the others, Nancy Drew and George began to watch the galley. They became well acquainted with the jolly Negro who presided there, winning the man’s gratitude by peeling a large pan of potatoes. After they had talked with him for half an hour, the girls decided that he never had connived with Snorky.
Watching their chance, George and Nancy next slipped into the forecastle. There they located Snorky’s belongings which they searched without success. Then Nancy ran her hand under the mattress of the sailor’s bunk.
“Here’s something!” she cried, holding up a small envelope.
Upon investigating, she discovered that it contained an odorless white powder. At once she became certain it was with this that part of the ship’s food had been tainted by Snorky.
“I have an idea!” Nancy said suddenly. “Wait here for me.”
While George kept watch at the door, she ran to the galley, soon returning with a salt shaker.
“We’ll substitute this for the powder!” she chuckled, emptying the innocent seasoning into an envelope, and taking the other to their cabin.
By now Nancy had no doubt but that Snorky had been hired by the enemies who were seeking to gain the treasure. Taking her friends into her confidence, she organized a watch over the galley. On the pretext of helping the overburdened cook, the girls even assisted in serving the meals. Notwithstanding, Ned complained at dinner that his food tasted very salty.
“Snorky is a sly fellow,” Nancy observed to George as they discussed the situation. “We must tighten our watch. If we don’t, I’m afraid something dreadful may happen before we reach Little Palm.”
An unexpected change in the weather temporarily drove all thought of Snorky from the minds of the young people. The barometer began to fall steadily and within a few hours waves were dashing over the decks of the Primrose.
Although barely able to walk, Captain Stryver resumed command of the ship, relieving the weary Tom More. As the day wore on the gale became steadily worse so that the young people were driven below. Nancy, however, grew restless. Deciding that Snorky should be watched, she went to look for him. The sailor could not be found, even after Ned and Tom had joined in the search.
“Say, maybe he was washed overboard!” the latter said uneasily. “I’ll ask the captain if he has seen him.”
Nancy did not believe that the sailor had met an ill fate. Without telling either Ned or Tom where she was going, she went below to the galley. Before she could enter, the door opened and the missing sailor came out, carrying a box in his arms.
“Now what was he doing in there?” the girl thought suspiciously. “He must have poisoned the food, and he’s carrying away good stuff for himself!”
Thoroughly alarmed, Nancy started up the ladder, intending to warn her friends not to eat anything served. She was midway up the rungs when the boat gave an unexpected lurch. There were terrified screams from above, for a huge wave had crushed the Primrose’s port railing.
Nancy was thrown off her balance. Unable to save herself, she toppled backwards, falling to the floor. Her head struck hard and everything went black before her eyes.
When next she opened them it was to find herself lying on a couch in Captain Stryver’s cabin. Anxious friends were grouped about her.
“Are you all right now?” Ned asked, pressing a glass of water to the girl’s lips. “You had a nasty fall.”
Nancy sat up, trying to recall what had happened. Her eyes roved from one face to another.
“What is it, Nancy?” Ned asked, sensing that she was trying to tell them something.
“Don’t eat,” she whispered. “Whatever you do, don’t touch anything coming from the galley!”