Dave Porter in the South Seas Part 21

"Seems to me I do."

"Don't you remember traveling around with your bundle and your satchel?

You had some money in bankbills and some loose silver, and a work on navigation, and a Bible----"

"Yes! yes! I remember the Bible--it was the one my aunt gave me--G.o.d bless her! She, Aunt Lizzie--took care o' me when my mother died, an'

she told me to read it every day--an' I did, most o' the time."

"Well, you had the Bible and your satchel and your bundle of clothes,"

went on Dave, impressively. "And at that time you fell in with a man who afterwards gave you his photograph."

"So I did--the man who looks like you. But I----"

"Wait a minute. Don't you remember his telling you a story about a crazy nurse and a lost child?"

"I certainly do, but----"

Dave drew the photograph from his pocket and thrust it forward, directly before the tar's eyes.

"There is the man!" he cried. "Now, what is his name? Tell me his name, at once!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Tell me his name, at once!"--_Page 121._]

"Dunston Porter!" fairly shouted the sailor. "Dunston Porter! That's it!

I knew I would remember it sometime! Dunston Porter, of course it was!

Funny how I forgot it. Better write it down, afore it slips my cable again."

"Dunston Porter!" murmured Dave, and the others likewise repeated the name.

"Ha! this is remarkable!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Caspar Potts. "Dave, do you remember what you called yourself when you were first found and taken to the poorhouse."

"I do, sir. I called myself Davy, and Porter, and Dun-Dun."

"Exactly, and Dun-Dun meant Dunston. You were trying to repeat the name, 'Dunston Porter'!"

"That would seem to be the fact," came from Oliver Wadsworth. "And if so----" He paused significantly.

"You think my real name is Dunston Porter?"

"Either that, or else that is the name of some relative of yours."

Dave's heart beat fast. He felt that he was getting at least a faint glimpse of his past. He turned again to Billy Dill.

"Then this Dunston Porter was your friend?" he observed.

"He was, and he helped me when I was stranded," was the answer. "I can't give ye all the particulars, cos some o' 'em is more like a dream than anything to me. When I try to think, my head begins to swim," and the sailor wrinkled his forehead as before and twitched his eyes.

"Tell me one thing," said the rich manufacturer, "Do you think this Dunston Porter is still at Cavasa Island, or in that locality?"

"I suppose so--I don't know."

"When did you come away from there?" asked Professor Potts.

"It must be nigh on to a year ago. I came straight to 'Frisco, went up the coast on a lumber boat to Puget Sound, and then took pa.s.sage to New York. Next, I drifted up here to look up some friends, and you know what happened after that."

"Was Dunston Porter alone out there?" questioned Oliver Wadsworth.

"Why--er--I can't say as to that. He didn't say much about himself, that I can remember. Once he told me about that child, but--but it's hazy--I can't think! Oh, it drives me crazy when I try to think! The roar of the sea gets in my ears, and the light from the lighthouse fires my brain!"

And the old tar began to pace the floor in a rolling gait.

"He is growing excited!" whispered Caspar Potts. "It is too bad! Were he in his right mind, he might be able to tell us a great deal."

"Supposing we go out and have lunch together," suggested Oliver Wadsworth. "And then we can go for a ride on the lake."

He spoke to the sanitarium manager, and the upshot of the matter was that the whole party went out to a hotel for dinner. Previous to going, Dave gave Billy Dill the satchel and money and the bundle, which seemed to tickle the tar immensely.

"Douse my toplight, but I feel like old times again!" he cried, when they had had a good dinner and were seated on the forward deck of one of the lake boats, used to take out pleasure parties. "Oh, but I love the water!"

"I suppose this doesn't look anything like around Cavasa Island,"

remarked Dave, trying to draw the sailor out.

"Not much, my boy. Cavasa Island has a volcano in the middle of it, and once in a while that volcano gets busy, and folks run for their lives.

An' they have earthquakes, too. Once I was out with Dunston Porter, and along came an earthquake, and the other fellow, Mr. Lemington, almost had his leg broken."

"Who was Mr. Lemington?" asked Caspar Potts, quickly.

"Why, he was Dunston Porter's partner in the treasure-hunting scheme.

Oh, I didn't tell you about that, did I? Funny, how it slipped my mind, eh? They went to the volcano for the treasure. I guess that was when the baby disappeared--and that other man--I don't remember much of him, he was wild. It was misty, misty. But they didn't get any treasure, I know that. And then Mr. Lemington got disgusted and sailed for Australia."

"Did you ever see the baby?" asked Dave.

"Did I? Why--I think so. I don't remember."

This was all they could get out of the sailor, try their best, and, upon Oliver Wadsworth's advice, they did not bother him any further. Before returning to the sanitarium, the rich manufacturer called Dave to one side.

"Dave, do you want to go to Cavasa Island?" he asked, with a quiet smile.

"I do," was the prompt answer. "I was going to speak to you about it.

You know I told you that Phil Lawrence is going--on one of his father's ships this summer. I'd like very much to go with Phil."

"Then you shall go, if we can make the necessary arrangements. Now, what I want to know is: Do you not think it would be an excellent thing to take this Billy Dill along? The trip might cure him entirely, and he might aid you greatly in clearing up this mystery."

"Why, Mr. Wadsworth, you must have been reading my thoughts!" exclaimed the country boy. "I was going to suggest that very thing."

"Then we will speak to Dill about it before we leave him. Do you know when your friend Lawrence is to join his father's ship?"

"No, sir; but I can soon find out. And here is Mr. Lawrence's address, if you want it," added Dave, and wrote it on a card.

When the idea of sailing on the Pacific once more was broached to Billy Dill, his eyes lit up with pleasure.