Dave Porter in the South Seas Part 20

"Why, certainly," cried Phil. "Open it, by all means. It may throw light on some things which Billy Dill has been unable to explain."

The satchel was not locked and came open with ease. Inside was a bag containing some loose silver and a roll of forty-six dollars in bankbills. There was also a locket, containing the picture of a motherly old lady, probably the sailor's parent. Under the locket were a small Bible and a work on ocean navigation, and at the bottom a thick, brown envelope containing a photograph.

"Let us see whose picture that is," said Phil, and Dave opened the envelope and drew the photograph forth. As he held it up there was a general cry, in which he was forced to join.

"That's the man who looks like you, Dave!" cried Roger.

"What a striking resemblance!" exclaimed Phil.

"And he has the mustache, just as the sailor said," added Ben. "Dave, that man looks enough like you to be your older brother, or your father!"

Dave said nothing, for he was too much overcome to speak. As he gazed at the picture, he began to tremble from head to foot. Taking away the mustache, the face was exactly like his own, only older and more careworn. He did not wonder that Billy Dill had become confused because of the resemblance. He turned the picture over. There was not a sc.r.a.p of printing or writing on it anywhere.

What was the meaning of this mystery? What was this man to him? Was he the man who had once lost a child through a crazy nurse? In his perplexed state of mind, the questions were maddening ones to the boy.

"What do you think of it, Dave?" asked Phil, after a pause, and the eyes of all the others were turned on the poorhouse boy.

"What do I think of it?" he repeated, slowly. "I think this: I am going to find this man, if he is alive, even if I have to go around the world to do it. He must know something of my past--most likely he is a relative of mine. I am going to be a poorhouse n.o.body no longer. I am going to establish my ident.i.ty--and I am going to do that before I do anything else."

Dave spoke deliberately, weighing every word. It was almost as if he was registering a vow. The others saw a look of determination settle on his face, and knew that he would do as he said.

The boy from the country had suddenly lost interest in clearing up the mystery surrounding Shadow Hamilton, and allowed the others to finish the search for cla.s.s pins and postage stamps. One more pin was found and three rare stamps from Brazil, and then the search was abandoned, and they returned to Oak Hall, Dave carrying the sailor's possessions.

That evening there was an interesting interview in Doctor Clay's office, in which Dave and his friends took an active part. The worthy master of Oak Hall listened to all the boys had to tell with keen attention, and smiled quietly when told how Dave and Roger had first followed Shadow in his somnambulistic feat. He took possession of the cla.s.s pins and the stamps, and said the latter were undoubtedly from his collection.

"We now have nearly all of the cla.s.s pins," he said. "But fully nine-tenths of the postage stamps are still missing and they represent a value of at least twenty-five hundred dollars. I am tolerably sure that Maurice Hamilton took them in his sleep, but the question is, did he destroy the others, or did somebody else come along and take them?"

"I believe Chip Macklin came to see you, sir," said Dave, significantly.

"He did, Porter, and I am going to follow that clew up--if it is a clew," answered Doctor Clay, gravely.

After the others had departed, Dave showed the things he had found belonging to Billy Dill. The master of the Hall was as much astonished as anybody over the resemblance between his pupil and the photograph, and examined the picture with care.

"I do not wonder that you wish to investigate this," said he. "I should wish to do so, were I in your position."

"I have simply got to do it, Doctor!" cried Dave. "I shall not be able to settle my mind on a thing until it's done. Would you go home and see Mr. Wadsworth and Professor Potts first, or go direct to that sailor?"

"Why not send a long letter to your friends, telling them what you have told me? You can add that I agree that the photograph resembles you closely, and that you wish to talk the matter over once again with this William Dill."

As impatient as he was, Dave concluded to follow this advice, and a letter of ten pages was sent to Mr. Wadsworth and to Caspar Potts the next morning. In the meantime, it may be added here, Doctor Clay had a closer watch than ever set on Shadow Hamilton's movements, and he also began a quiet investigation of Gus Plum's doings.

The letter that Dave sent to Crumville created a sensation in the Wadsworth household, and was read and re-read several times by the members of the manufacturer's family and by Professor Potts.

"There is undoubtedly something in this," said the professor. "It certainly is ent.i.tled to a strict investigation. If you will permit me, I will run up to Oak Hall to see Dave, and then take him to see this Billy Dill."

"I will go with you," answered the rich manufacturer. "The outing will do us both good, and I am greatly interested in Dave's welfare. I only trust that there is a happy future in store for him."

"And I say the same, sir, for no boy deserves it more," answered Professor Potts.

A telegram was sent to Dave, and on the following day Oliver Wadsworth and Caspar Potts journeyed to Oakdale. Dave met them at the depot with the Hall carriage.

"There he is!" exclaimed old Caspar Potts, rushing up and shaking hands. "My boy! my boy! I am glad to see you again!" And he fairly quivered with emotion.

"And I am glad to see you," cried Dave, in return. He shook hands with both men. "Mr. Wadsworth, it was kind of you to answer my letter so quickly," he added.

"I knew you would be anxious, Dave. My, how well and strong you look!

The air up here must do you good."

"It is a very healthful spot," answered the youth, "and I like it better than I can tell."

"A fine school--a fine school!" murmured Professor Potts. "You could not go to a better."

On the way to the Hall, Dave told his story in detail, and exhibited the photograph, which he had brought with him, scarcely daring to leave it out of his sight.

"It is just as you have said," remarked Oliver Wadsworth. "A most remarkable resemblance, truly!"

"That man must be some relative to Dave," added Caspar Potts. "There could not be such a resemblance otherwise. It is undoubtedly the same strain of blood. He may be a father, uncle, cousin, elder brother--there is no telling what; but he is a relative, I will stake my reputation on it."

The visitors were cordially greeted at Oak Hall by Doctor Clay and made to feel perfectly at home. They were given rooms for the night, and in the morning the doctor and his visitors and Dave had breakfast together.

It had been decided that a visit should be paid to Billy Dill that very afternoon, and by nine o'clock Mr. Wadsworth, Professor Potts, and Dave were on the way to the town where was located the sanitarium to which the sailor had been taken. Dave had the tar's satchel and clothing with him, and the precious photograph was stowed away in his pocket. Just then he would not have parted with that picture for all the money in the world.

CHAPTER XIV

A GLEAM OF LIGHT

"I would advise that you keep that satchel and the picture out of sight at first," said Professor Potts, as he rang the bell of the sanitarium.

"Talk to the old sailor and try to draw him out. Then show him his belongings when you think the time ripe."

Mr. Wadsworth and Dave thought this good advice, and when they were ushered into the old sailor's presence, the boy kept the satchel behind him.

"Well, douse my toplights, but I'm glad to see ye all!" cried Billy Dill, as he shook hands. "It's kind o' you to pay a visit to such an old wreck as I am."

"Oh, you're no wreck, Mr. Dill," answered Oliver Wadsworth. "We'll soon have you as right and tight as any craft afloat," he added, falling into the tar's manner of speaking.

"Bless the day when I can float once more, sir. Do you know, I've been thinkin' that a whiff o' salt air would do me a sight o' good. Might fix my steerin' apparatus," and the tar tapped his forehead.

"Then you must have a trip to the ocean, by all means," said Caspar Potts. He turned to the rich manufacturer. "It might be easily arranged."

"Dill, I want to talk to you about the time you were out in the South Seas," said Dave, who could bear the suspense no longer. "Now, please follow me closely, will you?"

"Will if I can, my hearty." The sailor's forehead began to wrinkle. "You know my memory box has got its cargo badly shifted."

"Don't you remember when you were down there--at Cavasa Island, and elsewhere--how hard times were, and how somebody helped you."