The Hunniwell boys and the platinum mystery
“‘I see a ship and it’s coming this way. Maybe I’ll see the folks again
after all.’”
“Is that all?” Bill asked as he stopped reading.
“That’s all except for a map on the other side of the paper which shows
where they hid the stuff.”
“That stuff was platinum,” Bill declared.
“I think you’re right,” Rogers told him.
“And a hundred pounds,” Gordon gasped. “How much would that be worth?”
“About a hundred and forty thousand dollars,” Rogers told him.
“Is there any name signed to the letter?” Bill asked.
“It’s signed Sol Rogers.”
“Then he must have been one of your ancestors,” Gordon declared.
“He was,” Rogers told them. “He was my grandfather about six times
removed. In his day he was a pretty well known whale hunter and,
according to the records, he was some man.”
“But how do you suppose that letter ever got in that trunk?” Bill asked.
“You know as much about it as I do. He was lost at sea and I don’t know
whether it was on that voyage or not.”
“Probably it wasn’t,” Gordon said. “If it had been I don’t see how that
letter ever got ashore.”
“I imagine you’re right. But take a look at the map and tell me what you
make of it.”
He spread the paper out on a small table and all three bent over it. It
was rather faint but very well drawn and, after a short inspection, Bill
said:
“Looks like the Hawaiian Islands to me, and this larger map over on this
side seems to be an enlargement of Molokai.”
“I think there’s little doubt about it,” Rogers told them. “The old
fellow must have been up on his geography because I’ve compared it with
a modern map and it matches almost perfectly.”
“And you think the platinum, or whatever it was, is still there?” Gordon
asked.
“That’s hard to say. What would you guess?” Rogers smiled.
“Seems to me he’d have taken it with him if he was rescued,” Bill gave
as his opinion.
“At first thought it would seem so,” Rogers said. “But when you come to
think of it it doesn’t seem so likely, or at least it doesn’t to me. In
the first place he wasn’t sure it was any good and then the ships of
that time usually carried a pretty tough crew and he might have been
afraid to take it on board. No, I think he left it there hoping to come
after it some other time if he found out it was worth it. Probably he
took a sample with him.”
“And perhaps he went back and got it,” Gordon suggested.
“I hardly think so or it would have been mentioned in the family
history. I looked and there was no word about it. My candid opinion is
that he never got back home.”
“Then how did the letter get in that trunk.” Gordon asked.
“Of course I can’t answer that,” Rogers smiled. “But there are several
explanations any one of which is possible.”
“Such as what?” Gordon asked.
“Well, for one the letter might have been placed in a tight box of some
kind and been washed ashore and someone found it and sent it to his
people.”
“Sounds pretty far fetched if you ask me,” Gordon declared, shaking his
head.
“Granted,” Rogers smiled. “But it got there some way that’s certain.”
“No doubt about that,” Bill broke in. “But what about it?”
“I’m going to see if I can find it,” Rogers told him slowly.
“You are?”
“Of course I fully realize that it’s more than likely to be a wild goose
chase,” Rogers told them, “but I’ve never been out there and I’m going
to have a try at it. That is if I can get two boys to go with me. I can
get a month’s leave of absence.”
“You mean you want us to go with you?” Gordon asked.
“That was the impression I was hinting at,” Rogers smiled.
“Molokai. Isn’t that where they send lepers?” Bill asked.
“Yes, there’s a leper colony there,” Rogers told him. “But you know
leprosy isn’t contagious.”
“Gee, but I’d like to try it,” Gordon declared. “How about you, Bill?”
“I’m on.”
“Fine. How about your parents? Will they want you to go?”
“Oh they won’t object,” Gordon assured him.
“But how’ll we go?” Bill asked. “I think you told us once that you had
promised your wife that you’d never fly again and that lets the
Albatross out.”
“Ah, but it doesn’t,” Rogers smiled. “You see, my wife is a pretty good
sport and when I told her about this find and explained how safe your
plane is she consented to let me go.”
“Then we can go in the old bird?”
“You bet. And if we find anything of value we’ll divide it three ways.”
“No, two ways. You half and Gordon and I the other half,” Bill insisted,
and neither he nor Gordon would agree to any other plan.
“Oh, well, we probably won’t find anything anyway so we won’t fight
about it,” Rogers finally gave up.
CHAPTER II
OFF FOR MOLOKAI
As they had expected it did not take very much urging to gain the
consent of their parents although Mr. Hunniwell told them frankly that
he had no faith in their hopes. “However,” he continued, “you have never
been in that part of the world and if you are careful not to take any
chances the trip will undoubtedly be a good one and you will enjoy it.
But don’t be disappointed if you find nothing. That paper is too old to
have any value in my opinion.”
They had decided to start in a week as it would take them that time to
make all their preparations. Or rather Rogers told them it would take
him that long as he was obliged to go back to New York and attend to
several matters connected with his work. As for Bill and Gordon, they
declared that they could be ready to start the next day.
It was arranged that they would pick Rogers up on the flying field on
Long Island as he lived not far from there and he left late that
afternoon.
“I’ll bet we find it just the same,” Gordon declared as they watched the
train pull out from the station.
“Now you don’t want to get your hopes up too high,” Bill advised. “To my
way of thinking it’s a mighty long shot. A hundred years is a mighty
long time and the chances are that, even if the letter isn’t a fake and
he never returned and got the stuff, we’ll never be able to find it.”
“Well, maybe not, but we’ll have a mighty good time hunting for it, let
me tell you.”
After they had gone to bed that night they took up the conversation
again.
“Say, Bill, you don’t happen to know how big that island is, do you?”
Gordon asked.
“Sure do. Two hundred and sixty-one square miles.”
“How do you know?”
“Looked it up, of course.”
“And how far is it from San Francisco?”
“Twenty-one hundred miles.”
“And all the way over water.”
“Sure. There’s no bridge there.”
“Smarty.”
“Well, you asked me.”
“Know anything more about it?”
“Not much. There’s a leper colony there.”
“I knew that.”
“Indeed.”
“Know how many lepers live there?”
“No.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, you can’t expect me to know everything,” Bill laughed.
“I don’t,” Gordon chuckled.
“But I know one thing.”
“Indeed.”
“And that is I’m going to sleep if you’ll let me.”
“Far be it from me to keep your mighty intellect working over time. Good
night.”
“Bon nuit.”
Impatient to be off and chafing at the delay the boys put in all the
time possible going over the Albatross until Gordon declared that if
they did not quit they would wear it all out before they started.
“You’ve oiled that motor about a dozen times in the last two days,” he
told Bill, “and you know that once in two thousand miles is a plenty.”
“And how many times have you greased that main bearing?” Bill retorted.
“Well, I guess all it needs,” Gordon laughed.
But at last the day came and they bade farewell to their parents and
promised to be careful and take no unnecessary chances for the twentieth
time. Rogers was awaiting them when about ten o’clock in the morning the
plane settled to the ground.
“Been waiting long?” Bill asked as he leaped from the cockpit and
grasped his hand.
“Only about fifteen minutes,” Rogers told him. “I’ve got all my stuff
here. Think we can find room for it?”
“I reckon,” Gordon assured him. “There’s lots of room back of that back
seat. What’s in that box?” he asked pointing to a wooden box about
eighteen inches square.
“That’s my laboratory,” Rogers told them. “You see,” he explained, “we
don’t want to bring home a hundred pounds of something that’s not worth
anything. I happen to know a little about Chemistry and I’m taking along
enough equipment to be able to make some tests.”
“You talk as though you really expected to find it,” Bill smiled.
“Of course I do,” Rogers told him. “What do you suppose we’re going
for?”
“Platinum,” Gordon answered.
“You said it, son.”
All this time they had been busy packing away Rogers’ stuff and, as soon
as the task was accomplished, they were ready for the start.
As there was no particular hurry they had decided not to attempt a
non-stop flight but to land as soon as it began to get dark and spend
the night at a hotel.
“We ought to get pretty near out to Chicago before dark,” Gordon
declared as he got to his seat beside Bill.
“Easy,” Bill told him.
It was a perfect day as they rose in the air. There was a bit of light
breeze and even that was in their favor and everything seemed
auspicious.
“How quiet it is,” Rogers said as Bill started the forward propeller.
“I suppose you miss the noise of the engine,” Gordon said.
“I sure do, but it’s a happy miss,” Rogers laughed.
Bill climbed rapidly until they reached an altitude of a little over a
thousand feet and then leveled the plane and increased the speed until
they were making a hundred and fifty miles an hour and for some time
kept it there.
“There’s Lake Erie,” Gordon announced about one o’clock, “and I move we
eat.”
“Looks to me like a shower coming this way,” Bill said an hour later.
“I’ve been watching that cloud for some time,” Rogers said, “and I think
we’re going to hit it.”
“Looks like it,” Bill agreed, “unless we can go over it.”
“How about landing till it passes?” Gordon asked. “I had one experience
in a thunder storm and don’t exactly hanker for another.”
“Just as you say,” Bill told him. “But it looks rather low to me and I
believe we could go over it without any trouble. What do you say?” he
asked turning to Rogers.
“There’s no use in taking chances,” replied the older man. “But if you
think there’s no danger, go ahead as far as I’m concerned.”
“I really believe it’s as safe as it would be to land,” Bill declared.
“That storm is going to be a pretty good one and it might wreck the
plane even on the ground. If you two are willing I’d like to try it.”
“Go to it,” Gordon declared and Rogers nodded his head in agreement.
So Bill gave the stick a sharp pull and the Albatross turned her nose
upward. Up crept the needle of the altimeter until it registered ten
thousand feet and still the dark clouds seemed just ahead of them. Then
suddenly a thick mist enveloped them and they knew they had entered the
cloud. For some time they had heard the distant mumbling of thunder and
seen flashes which told them that the storm was rushing toward them. And
now the wind was rapidly increasing in strength and coming directly
against them.
“Think we’ll make it?” Gordon asked, and there was more than a suspicion
of anxiety in his voice.
“I think we’re above the center of it,” Bill answered as he glanced over
the side of the cockpit.
“Still going up?” Rogers asked.
“Yep, still going up,” Bill told him.
The flashes of lightning were closer now and the rattling of thunder was
almost incessant and Bill’s heart sank as he realized he had made a
mistake. “I should have landed,” he muttered as he gave the stick
another pull.
Then, almost as suddenly as they had entered the cloud, the plane burst
into bright sunshine.
“Hurrah, we made it,” Gordon shouted.
“And just in time if you ask me,” Bill returned. “I was beginning to get
scared.”