Chapter 9 THE GOLD COMPANY

Two minutes later I had begun to regret my decision, and to wonder if it was a mistake to stay on the island. I reflected that I was alone, with two strangers. Yet they were posting advertisements, and asking everybody in Lanesport to come to the island tomorrow. They would hardly do that if there was anything shady about them. From the very first, I had no fault to find with the Professor. The trouble with the other man was that he seemed to be so very, very GOOD.

"Now, James," said he, "we'll leave the Professor to finish some work here, while you and I go up to the house. ... Wonderful man, the Professor!" he continued, after the latter had vanished down the trap-door, and we had started up the hill,-"wonderful man! How future generations will bless his name! That is it,-that is all that induced me to become connected with this great enterprise,-the blessedness of it! I would never have anything to do with any work unless it was for the good of my fellowman. I asked the Professor if his work was going to be for the benefit of ALL mankind. He told me that it was. Then I consented to come in with him. He has a marvellous brain."

"What is he professor of?"

"Transcendental chemistry ... He has studied in all the leading universities of Europe. ALL of them. The name of Von Bieberstein will be blessed by generations yet unborn. And how devoutly happy am I that the name of Snider will come in for some of those blessings! It will be associated with his in this great work,- this GOOD work!"

"Is that his name?"

"Professor Von Bieberstein. Yes. And mine is Snider. ... James, I hope you are a good boy."

I said nothing, but if to be a good boy would turn me into anything like Mr. Snider when I grew up, I hoped I was the worst kind of boy.

"You don't use tobacco, I hope, James?"

"No."

"Don't ever do it. It leads to lying. And drinking. I have known the greatest criminals and blacklegs in the city of New York, murderers, and thieves, and men like that,-and they all became what they were through using tobacco. All of them."

We had arrived at the house, and Mr. Snider led the way around to the side-door.

"Here is the platform, you see, James," said he, pointing to the band-stand, "all ready for the gathering tomorrow. Yes. It will be a great occasion. Historic. Nothing that this ancient house has ever seen could match it. And yet I suppose that many of the world's great discoveries were made in places humble and obscure like this. ... Suppose we split a little wood, James, and bring some water from the well. Then we can have supper ready, when the Professor comes back from his work. He is very absent-minded. Very. His mind is engaged on these problems all day. He would not remember to eat unless I reminded him of it. I have to take care of him,-his life is very precious to the world, James!"

We went to a shed where there was a little kindling wood in one corner. Mr. Snider handed me a hatchet, and I split some wood, while he stood near and talked to me about the importance of being good and virtuous.

"It's the way to be happy, James, and successful, and RICH. Did you ever hear of Abraham P. Fillmore, James?"

"Oh, yes. Lots of times." "Worth ninety million dollars, James! Think of it! Ninety million dollars!" Mr. Snider licked his lips. "The richest man in the world, today. Some say that John Sanderson is richer,-but it isn't true. No; it isn't true. The last time I saw A. P. Fillmore, I said to him: 'Brother Fillmore,' I said, 'how do you account for it? How did you do it? How did you GET it?' And he said: 'Caleb,' he said, 'I'll tell you. It was by following the Golden Rule.' That's all there is to it, James,- just by being GOOD. Isn't that simple, James? Oh! why can't we all do that!"

I looked at Mr. Snider in astonishment. Here was a man who knew the famous millionaire, A. P. Fillmore, well enough to call him "Brother Fillmore," and to be called "Caleb" in return by him. I had seen pictures of Fillmore in the newspapers ever since I could remember,-people were always talking about him. "You must think I am as rich as A. P. Fillmore!"-how many times I had heard people say that! And Mr. Snider, who was on such friendly terms with him, was standing here in a woodshed, talking with me! I wondered why I had never heard of Mr. Snider before.

Presently we went in the house, after we had the wood and a pail of water. The house was almost empty of furniture, and it was pretty dismal. The kitchen was the only room they used downstairs,-it contained a cook-stove, two tables, a couple of broken-down chairs, and some boxes set on end, for seats. An old- fashioned kitchen clock, its hands broken off, stood on a shelf, silent. But a handsome little glass and gold clock was ticking away in front of it.

The Professor joined us while we were kindling a fire in the stove. He did not seem at all neglectful of his food, he inquired how soon supper would be ready, and suggested that we have some sausages in addition to what Mr. Snider was preparing to cook. They sent me out to the shed for some more wood, and again to the well for another pail of water, so that we could wash our hands and faces at the sink.

We ate our supper in the kitchen, and as soon as the Professor finished eating he lighted a long cigar. Mr. Snider did not seem to notice this, though it made me wonder why he did not tell his friend how many scoundrels he had known who had come to their downfall through using tobacco. When the cigar was nearly gone, the Professor said he would wash the dishes, if I would help him wipe them. I agreed, and we began the work. Mr. Snider presently started to talk to me once more about being good. He did not get very far, however, before the Professor turned to him and said:

"Oh, shut up!"

Mr. Snider raised his eyebrows, smiled his hideous smile, and relapsed into silence. After a minute or two he went outside, and walked slowly up and down the driveway, with his hands behind his back. When the dishes were finished, the Professor lighted another cigar, sat down at a table, and began to write and figure on a piece of paper.

This wasn't very amusing to me, so I looked about to see if I could find something to do. In a passage leading from the kitchen to another room, I found a shelf which held some empty medicine bottles, and four or five dusty books. I took the books down, one after the other. There was "The Life of Rev. Thomas Miltimore,"-I put that back on the shelf. There was "Leading Men of Rockingham County,"-I put that back. Then there was a book of hymns, and Foxe's "Book of Martyrs." I was about to take the latter to the kitchen with me, and curdle my blood again with its ghastly pictures, when I found another book under an old, yellow newspaper. It was "The Rifle Rangers; or Adventures in Southern Mexico by Captain Mayne Reid." The frontispiece, which was protected by a torn and stained leaf of tissue paper, showed a soldier in a tropical forest, being startled by a skeleton which had apparently risen out of the ground. On the title-page someone had written in pencil "A mity Good Book." Underneath, in another handwriting, were the words, "you Bett!" This seemed well recommended,-even if the name of the author hadn't been a strong recommendation in itself. A faded legend on a fly-leaf showed that the book had been "Presented to Edward Rogers, on his Fourteenth Birthday, Jan'y 21st, 1852, By his Uncle Daniel."

I took that book back to the kitchen. The Professor had a lamp burning on the table beside him, and I sat down in its light. In a few seconds I was following the adventures of the hero,-a hero whose foot, it seemed "had pressed the summits of the Andes, and climbed the Cordilleras of the Sierra Madre." He had "steamed it down the Mississippi, and sculled it up the Orinoco."

The Orinoco! That magic river with the musical name! I knew it too, and could see it in my mind's eye as I read. The branches of the trees met across the stream,-parrots screamed, monkeys chattered, and scampered from one tree to another. The kitchen, the Professor, vanished from my sight. I was unconscious of the hard, uncomfortable chair in which I sat, and of the dim, sputtering light of the badly trimmed lamp.

What else had he done? He told you about his past adventures, before he began upon the new one. "I had hunted buffaloes with the Pawnees of the Platte, and ostriches upon the Pampas of the Plata; I had eaten raw meat with the trappers of the Rocky Mountains, and roast monkey among the Mosquito Indians." Now, it seemed, he was off for the war in Mexico,-and I could come along with him, if I liked.

I did like, and it was two hours later when I suddenly heard an oily voice saying: "Why, it's half past nine,-James, you're not going to read all night, are you?" Then I came back to Rogers's Island with a bump, and saw the obnoxious face of Mr. Snider looking down at me. The Professor had left the room, though I had not noticed when he went.

"What is that book, James? Something improving, I trust?"

"It's a fine book," said I.

He took it and looked it over, making a clicking sound of disapproval with his tongue.

"How much better it would be," he observed, "to read some book of useful information, or something with a MORAL! Such a book as this TEACHES you nothing. Couldn't you find anything better?"

I was sorry that the Professor wasn't there, to tell him to shut up. I had no patience to stay and hear a book of brave adventure decried by this sanctimonious looking hum-bug,-whose mouth watered when he talked about old Fillmore and his ninety million dollars. Fillmore, so everybody said, was so stingy that he cut his own hair, and went around looking like a fright, rather than pay a barber. Worse than that, he was hated like fury by all the people who worked for him because he screwed their wages down to the lowest possible figure. But Mr. Snider thought him a great man, and boasted to me of knowing him within ten minutes of the time we met.

I told Mr. Snider that I was ready to go to bed, if he would show me where I was to sleep. He led me upstairs, past two or three rooms, to one in the rear. The floors were all bare, but the rooms had some furniture,-four-post beds, wash-stands, and one or two hair-cloth chairs. The bed in my room had a mattress and blankets, but no other bed-clothes. Mr. Snider bade me good-night, tried to shake hands with me-an attempt in which I foiled him-and softly departed down stairs.

After I was in bed I could hear the murmur of his voice below, as he talked with the Professor. Just as I was dropping off to sleep the voices grew suddenly louder for a moment or two, as if a door had opened somewhere.

"Maybe," I heard the Professor say, "but they'd never send a kid like that."

Mr. Snider answered something,-I could not distinguish the words.

"Oh, rats!" said the Professor, "what could he have seen?"

Again Mr. Snider murmured.

"Oh, sure, sure," the Professor's voice came again, "I was for keeping him, from the first. But just to be perfectly safe. We want to keep him till the first crowd has gone, anyway,-and till the second one has gone, if you say so. I don't care."

Another mutter from Snider; the Professor laughed and spoke again:

"It won't make a bit of difference. Bowditch has got all those hayseeds hypnotised. That's where you come in,-with your pink whiskers. ... Say, that door's open!"

There was a sound of footsteps, and the soft closing of a door. Presently another door closed, outside, and I heard the two men come upstairs. I jumped out of bed, and locked the door of my room. It was fairly plain to me that I was in the house with a couple of swindlers, of some kind or other, and though I didn't believe they would harm me, there was no need to take unnecessary chances.

They went into one of the front rooms. I heard four thumps, one after the other, as they took off their shoes, and threw them on the floor, so I judged they were going to bed. As I lay there, listening for them to begin to snore, I fell asleep myself.

I waked, a little at a time, in a room which was in broad daylight, with the sun shining through one window. For a moment I could not remember where I was,-at home, on the "Hoppergrass," in the jail at Bailey's Harbor, or on the other yacht. Then I recalled Rogers's Island, Mr. Snider and the Professor. I got up and listened for them, and looked out of the window, but I neither heard nor saw anybody. I dressed, unlocked the door, and tried to open it. But I could not do so,-a bolt had been shot, or a button turned, and the door was locked outside. While I was rattling and shaking at it I heard Mr. Snider in the passage.

"Dear me!" he said, "what's the matter? Is that you, James? Just wait a moment."

I heard a fumbling, and my door came open.

"Dear me!" said he again, "this bolt had slipped over, and locked the door. It does that sometimes. An old house, you know, all out of repair. You must have thought we were trying to keep you inside. It DID look that way."

What a clumsy liar he was! I said nothing at all to him, but hurried down stairs as fast as I could without running. I felt much safer with the Professor,-perhaps he was as big a rascal as the other,-but he wasn't as slimy in his manner.

It was half past seven, and they had eaten their breakfast. They had saved some for me, and I ate it, keeping an eye out for Snider. He did not reappear, however, and after I had finished eating, I got "The Rifle Rangers" and went outside with it to read, and wait for the people who were coming on the steamboat. I felt more comfortable outdoors than in. With Mr. Snider creeping from one room to another I never knew what might happen, nor how he might try to cage me up. Outside, he wouldn't be able to touch me, if I had any kind of a start.

I had thought it over while I was eating breakfast. There was some sort of hocus-pocus going on, connected with this excursion and the gold company. Anybody could see that. Whether they really expected Captain Bannister to come on the steamboat, or whether that was all a lie to make me stay, I could not tell. Captain Bannister had said, according to the men at the Eagle House, that he was coming to Rogers's Island, so it might be that the Professor's story was true. On the other hand, it might have been made up out of whole cloth in order to keep me there over night. But why should they want to do that? They thought I had seen something,-the Professor had asked: "What could he have seen?" I hadn't seen anything,-except that they were working over some boxes on the platform beneath the wharf. They had both acted like boys caught in the jam closet.

I sat on the front porch, and thought it over, and read, and then thought it over again, until the smoke of the steamboat was in sight. This must have been about half past nine. The Professor and Mr. Snider had been out in the barn most of the time, or bringing chairs and putting them up on the platform in the side yard. When the smoke of the steamboat appeared they both came around to the front of the house. The Professor shook hands with me, and said goodbye. He had to go to Lanesport, he said, on important business, and he must start now. He was going by the road.

"Of course," said he, "I wish I could stay for the excursion, but

Mr. Snider will have to receive them, and explain the works."

"And James," added Snider, "will come around to the side and help me with the chairs,-won't you, James? It will only take a moment."

The Professor vanished around the corner of the house, as we turned into the drive.

"I hope you understand, James," said Mr. Snider, "that any-er- precautions we have taken since you came amongst us, were only such as were perfectly necessary under the circumstances. We are guarding here, of course, a valuable scientific discovery,-a VERY valuable discovery. There are people who would give thousands of dollars, and go to ANY lengths to get our secret away from us. Any lengths. We are determined that these men-these wicked men, I regret to say-shall not steal from the Professor the fruit of his brain. The workings of this-er-this precious secret will be displayed today, when the good folk arrive from Lanesport. We have the recommendation, as you must have seen, of two of the most respectable men in the town,-their names alone are proof of the high moral plane on which our Company is conducted. I say this to you because you do not know me, nor the Professor, and you are young, and thoughtless, and might jump to wrong conclusions. That would pain me very much, James. Very much. You will see, after the good folk arrive, and after you have heard Mr. Bowditch and Deacon Chick, that everything is as open as the day."

In spite of Mr. Snider's manner, in spite of his oily voice, I was nearer believing in him then, than at any time while I was on the island. After all, I had heard of inventions which must be kept secret. Moreover, there may have seemed something suspicious about the way in which I had come. I had bungled in giving that false name, and made them think that I was simply prying into their affairs. All that I wished now was to see if Captain Bannister were on the steamboat, or if I could get news of him or the "Hoppergrass," and I told this to Mr. Snider.

"Very well, then," said he, "it will be all right, now we have a clear understanding. And I would like you to keep near me while the people are here. You may be able to help, and thereby you can work off some of your debt to us for the two meals you have had at our expense. Though we would not charge you much for them,-about fifty cents for the supper, and thirty-five-or forty-for the breakfast, I think. Now, we will go down to the wharf."

The steamboat was less than quarter of a mile distant. It gave three long, shrill toots of its whistle, and came straight for us. It was a small boat, covered with flags and streamers. A brass band, in red coats, sat in the bow playing "Sweet Marie." As the boat came nearer I was surprised to see how few people, aside from the band, were on it. I had expected to see a big crowd,-a picnic gathering. Instead, there were only about two dozen people. Most of them were men, but a few had brought their wives-nice looking old ladies-with them.

Mr. Snider stood up on a high place, took off his black felt hat, with a great flourish, and put on his ghastly smile. "Welcome!" he shouted, "welcome to Rogers's Island!"

There was a big man with a frock coat and top hat standing near the band. He must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, and all his movements were slow and majestic. He took off his hat, faced toward the people who were sitting about the deck on camp- stools, and shouted in a deep but tremendous voice:

"Three cheers for Brother Snider!"

Then, counting "One, two, three!" and waving his tall hat in slow circles, he gave the three cheers all by himself. No one else opened his mouth.

The steamboat came alongside the wharf, was made fast, and a gang- plank run out. The big man came ashore, together with another who had a gray beard,-Deacon Chick, as I found out later. They shook hands with Mr. Snider very warmly, and introduced him to some of the other people as they stepped off the gang-plank.

"The Professor not here!" I heard the big man say; "that's a great disappointment!"

Then they all started up the wharf toward the house. The men of the band had scrambled ashore, and they headed the procession,- still playing "Sweet Marie" with loud blasts. Then came Mr. Snider, accompanied by the big man (he was the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch) and by Deacon Chick. Behind him were the people from Lanesport, two by two, some of them carrying baskets, and most of them in their Sunday clothes. At the end were some men from the steamboat with armfuls of camp-stools.

Captain Bannister was not there. I had watched all the men as they came ashore, and I asked one of the crew of the "May Queen" about him. He had never heard of such a man, he said. So I decided to go up to the house, hear what was going to happen, and then go back to Lanesport on the steamboat. It would leave, so the man told me, at twelve o'clock sharp, and get to Lanesport about one. I would be in time to meet Ed and Jimmy, Mr. Daddles and the rest, and find out if they had had better luck at Big Duck Island.

Mr. Snider had a great amount of trouble in getting the people placed as he wished them. The band was in one corner of the garden playing "Razzle Dazzle" in very lively fashion. This helped make the occasion gay, but it also made it hard for anyone to hear what was being said. Mr. Snider's smooth remarks, as he teetered about, the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch's stentorian bellowings, and Deacon Chick's confidential whispers were all drowned out by the music. Some of the men wanted to inspect the barn, and the premises generally, and one or two of the women had shown a desire to look into the kitchen. They had to be headed off by Mr. Snider, who gave them all a smile, a clammy hand-shake, and a patting on the shoulder, as he rounded them up on the camp-stools near the platform. Then he and Mr. Bowditch and the Deacon mounted the stand. There was a table with a pitcher of water and a glass, and Mr. Snider took his place behind it.

But when he smiled, and opened his mouth to speak, the band seized upon that moment to burst into music again. Their choice this tune was "Daisy Bell,"-

"Daisy! Daisy!

Give me my answer true!"

they blared forth, with their full strength. Mr. Snider turned toward them and tried to maintain his smile, while the Hon. Mr. Bowditch, and Deacon Chick waved their hands furiously at the leader.

The leader, however, was quite unconscious of their efforts, as his back was turned toward them. He was a short, very stout man, stuffed into a scarlet coat. He stood up to lead, and instead of waving a wand, played a cornet. This he moved about in the air, swaying his head and the upper part of his body in time with the music. His face was deep red, and it seemed as if he might burst if it were not for blowing into the cornet. The tune went on, defiantly, in spite of all the hand-wavings from Bowditch and Chick.

Finally, a trombone player caught sight of their gestures, and he attracted the leader's attention to the fact that something was wrong by giving him a prod in the stomach with the slide of his trombone. The leader hesitated, stopped, and then faced about to the speakers' stand. Some of the band paused, while others kept right on with "Daisy Bell."

Mr. Snider smiled, bowed, and I suppose, with a desire to make himself agreeable, thrust out his hands and applauded. At any rate, the band-master mistook the meaning of it, for he silenced those who were still playing, leaned forward to say something to them all, waved his cornet, and started them once more on "Razzle Dazzle." He had thought that Mr. Snider preferred that to "Daisy Bell," and wanted it repeated. Then they had to begin the hand- wavings and gesticulations all over again. Nothing could stop them this time until Deacon Chick descended from the stand, went over to the band-master, tapped him on the shoulder, and whispered excitedly in his ear. At last they got them all quieted down, except one tremendous man who sat on two stools, playing an enormous bass-horn. For quite two minutes after the others had ceased he went on with his: "Um-pah! Um-pah! Um-pah!"

"The boys don't get a chance like this more'n once a year," said a man who was standing beside me, "and you bet they are going to give J. Harvey his money's worth!"

He was a sharp-faced man, a farmer evidently, not more than thirty-five years old. He had bright black eyes, which he kept fixed constantly on Mr. Bowditch and Mr. Snider.

Finally, Mr. Snider got his chance to speak. He said he would call them all "Friends" as that suited them better than "Ladies and Gentlemen." He told how sorry he was because the Professor had been called away by the illness of a relative. Then he told what a great inventor the Professor was, and how he was even more remarkable for doing good. For this invention was one which would do good to so many people.

This led Mr. Snider up to his favorite subject, and he began to speak on doing good and being good. The black-eyed man beside me began to utter little groans.

"I knew I was in for J. Harvey Bowditch," he said under his breath, "and I thought that was enough punishment for one day."

At last Mr. Snider got back to the gold company. "From the earliest times, my friends, scientists have known of the existence of gold in sea-water. Together with other metals,-silver, platinum, and so on, there is a great amount of gold in sea-water. It is in tiny particles, not so big as the point of a needle. There it is,-but how shall it be got together? How shall it be extracted from the water? Aristotle tried to discover a method. He failed. Diogenes Laertius tried. He failed. Sir Isaac Newton, Benjamin Franklin,-they tried. And THEY failed. Professor Von Bieberstein has succeeded. And YOU are to see this method demonstrated today, and YOU, my friends, are to benefit by this discovery."

Then he talked at some length about the big "plant" which they expected to build, and how they would "treat" seventy millions (or billions, I forget which) of gallons of water daily. In one year from that date, he predicted, IF the plan received support, the gold taken every month from Broad Bay would be worth three hundred thousand dollars. Mr. Snider licked his lips. "Think of that, friends,-three hundred thousand dollars a month!" Shares in this Company were on sale for five dollars each. They would be placed on sale after the demonstration. He now had the pleasure and the honor to introduce to them one who needed no introduction to an audience from Lanesport,-the Hon. J. Harvey Bowditch.

Mr. Bowditch came forward with majestic tread. He thrust his right hand into the lapel of his coat, and commenced, in the deep booming tones of a bass-drum.

"My friends," he said, "I shall detain you here for just one moment."

"The poet Byron," he continued, "has written in words which must be forever immortal, of the deep and dark blue ocean. He said,-"

Mr. Bowditch talked for three quarters of an hour. That was his idea of "just one moment." Several people went sound asleep, one man pitched forward out of his chair while asleep, and some of those in the back began to get up and tip-toe away. At last Mr. Snider got him to stop-by pulling at his coat-tails-and they began to hand around the gold specimens.

That woke them up! Deacon Chick came down from the stand with a neat little box, and walked around among the people, showing off the gold. There were six nice, fat little nuggets-smooth, and yellow,-and delightful to handle. Each was about as big as a postage-stamp, and about half an inch thick. This was the gold which the Professor and Mr. Snider had extracted from the water, right there at Rogers's Island, by their secret, chemical process. It had been in tiny particles then, like dust, but they had sent it somewhere, and had it made into these nuggets,-plump and pleasing! They had a letter from someone in the Treasury to prove that it was solid and pure, and of the very best quality. No one needed the letter. The nuggets spoke for themselves,-they were so heavy! I held two of them, one in each hand, and weighed them. We all held one or two of them, and felt of them, and got a great deal of pleasure out of them.

The people from Lanesport gathered around Deacon Chick, the men looked at the gold nuggets, weighed them, and smiled at each other.

"Looks like the real stuff,-hey?"

"Looks like it to ME, all right!"

Everybody was interested, brightened up, happy and good-natured. They smiled and joked over the gold. Only one man seemed at all troubled in his mind.

"There's jus' one thing," I heard him say to two other men, "there's jus' one thing that kinder worries me. If we go ahead and perdoose gold at this rate, we're goin' to flood the market! Yessir! Gold will get so common that the price of everything will go sky-high, an' that'll raise old Ned!"

The other two looked pretty serious at this, and they started to discuss it. One of them thought they had better hold back most of the gold, "and only spring it on people a little at a tune."

Suddenly Mr. Snider shouted: "Now, friends, if you please, we will go down to the wharf for the demonstration!"