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Sign of the Green Arrow
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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A Mystery Story
SIGN OF THE GREEN ARROW
by
ROY J. SNELL
Reilly & LeeChicago
Copyright 1939ByReilly & LeePrinted in the U.S.A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE I "This is Our Secret" 11 II Spooky Waters 22 III A Bright Eyed Beach-Comber 34 IV Spies 46 V Whispering Depths 54 VI Real Progress! 73 VII Mystery Singers of the Night 82 VIII Monster of the Deep 96 IX Dave's Electric Gun 105 X Little Big-Heads 115 XI Tigers of the Sea 125 XII Johnny's Day Off 136 XIII The Green Arrow Trail 150 XIV An Important Discovery 161 XV Adrift in the Depths 167 XVI Voice of Drums 174 XVII Marching on the Castle 183 XVIII The Battle 192 XIX On the Bottom 204
SIGN OF THE GREEN ARROW
CHAPTER I "THIS IS OUR SECRET."
It was midnight. Johnny Thompson paced the deck of the _Sea Nymph_ alone.He would be doing this until daybreak. The tropical night was glorious.There was a faint breeze--just enough to ripple the waters where thephosphorescent light thrown off by a million tiny creatures rivaled thestars above.
"Spooky," he thought, meditatively. "Out here all alone with thenight.... Natives over there." He faced the east, where dark green hillsloomed out of the water. Over there was a small island. Johnny never hadbeen there. Some time he'd get into a canoe and paddle over. Earlier inthe evening he had seen a light, a white man's light, he had thought,without knowing why. He--
His thoughts were interrupted by someone moving, up forward. Or wasthere? He had supposed they all were asleep--the strange old man, bonyand tall, with goggle eyes and heavy glasses, the tall young man and theblonde girl. They all had berths forward. The captain and mate were aft;the native crew, below deck. There was no need for any of the crew, now.The boat was anchored. Only he, Johnny Thompson, was needed, to keepwatch for prowlers of the sea, or signs of a storm.
It was strange, this new job. He was not sure just what these people wereplanning--some scientific expedition, he thought. The ship's outfit wasrather irregular, but he had been glad of the chance to sign up as watch.He loved the sea.
"Someone--" he said to himself, "--is moving, up there." He startedforward, cautiously.
He had covered only half the hundred and twenty-five foot length of deckwhen suddenly he beheld the girl of the party.
"Walking in her sleep," Johnny thought, with a touch of alarm. But shewasn't.
"Hello!" She poked a hand from beneath her midnight-blue dressing gown."It's too swell a night to sleep."
"Yes," Johnny agreed.
"You're not a regular watch, are you?" she asked.
"That--er--" Johnny hesitated. "That's not my regular job. Nothing is.Does that matter?"
"No, I suppose not. Anyhow nothing could happen, here."
"Plenty could happen," he contradicted, quietly.
"How do you know?"
"I've been in the Tropics before. Natives get ugly sometimes. Theyimagine white men are getting the best of them--which, for the most part,they are!" Johnny laughed. "Then there are storms," he went on. "Wildestplace for storms you've ever seen. Once I drifted before a storm forthirty-six hours in a boat just about like this, only--" he hesitated,"it was different."
"Yes," the girl laughed, "it must have been, as there's not another boatquite like this in all the world, I guess. It--
"Look!" she exclaimed softly, pointing toward the distant island. "What'sthat strange light?"
"Light?" Johnny spun round. "Oh! Say--that _is_ strange! It's green. Agreen light."
"Like an arrow," the girl whispered. "Green arrow of the Tropics. Quiteromantic! But what can it be?"
"It's not for us," said Johnny. "It--it seems to blink. Wait!"
Retracing his steps he went to a box of life-preservers where he had lefthis heavy field glass. He returned quickly to her side.
"Now," he invited, "have a look!" He held the glass in position for her.
"It--it _does_ blink," she murmured. "It's like an electric sign. Somelights go off; others go on!"
"Let's see." Johnny took the glass. "Why--it's some sort of signalling,"he decided at once. "But not for _us_!"
Instinctively they turned to scan the sea.
"There's no other boat out there," said Johnny. "At least there wasn'tany at sunset. If one had moved in, we'd see the light."
"If there were a light," whispered the girl, "how gorgeously mysteriousit'd be. How--
"Look!" she exclaimed. "Do you see it? A green arrow out there on thesea?"
"No--oo," Johnny said, after a moment of gazing. "I can't see it. Musthave been a reflection of that other light. That often happens, you--"
"No!" The girl said, emphatically. "There! I saw it again!"
"Perhaps I'm color-blind," said Johnny after another long look. "But Ijust don't see it!"
At that he turned around to continue his study of that land light.
"It's strange," he murmured. "I can't quite count the lights, but they_do_ go on and off. Irregularly, too. It must be a signal. But what arethey saying?"
"And to whom?" the girl added.
"Well," she sighed a moment later, "we'll not learn the answer, at leastnot tonight. Because it's gone!"
"So it is," said Johnny, after a long look at the island.
"Sha--shall we tell them?" he asked after a moment.
"Who? Grandfather and Dave? Oh--why should we? It can't be anything thataffects us! Let's keep it for our own little secret. Perhaps we'll solvethe riddle--"
"All right," Johnny agreed, readily. There's a queer girl for you, he wasthinking. She'd be lots of fun, though.
"Is the elderly man your grandfather?" he asked.
"Yes. Professor Casper's his name. Only wish I knew as much as he does.My name's Doris--Doris Casper." She put out her hand. "I--I'll be seeingyou. Good night. And don't forget--it's our secret--sign of the greenarrow!"
She was gone.
"Sign of the green arrow," Johnny whispered, softly. "Perhaps I _should_report it to the professor. And then again--perhaps I shouldn't. It can'thave a thing to do with this boat, and it's entirely out of my line ofduty. The girl wants to share a secret. Most girls do, in fact. So whynot?"
With that, for the present at least, the whole affair was dismissed fromhis mind.
Half an hour later he found himself sitting alone on the after deck,glancing away at those dim, mysterious shores, and thinking back over theevents that had led up to this mildly exciting night.
Two months before, he had found himself in New York wanting a job, andnot able to find one. After three weeks of trying he had grown somewhatbitter a
bout the whole thing.
"I'm intelligent," he had said to a prospective employer. "I've alwaysworked. I like it. Why shouldn't I have a chance?"
"Why not?" the grey haired man had replied sadly. "I've asked thatquestion often, but I don't know the answer. I only know we can't useanother man."
That very afternoon, while watching boats moving out to sea, Johnny hadhis chance, and took it. He caught sight of a young man, strugglingtoward a gang-plank under a heavy load.
"Give you a lift?" he had volunteered, courteously.
"Whew! Yes." The man mopped his brow. "Looking for a dime?"
"Not yet!" Reddening, Johnny impulsively jerked a few small bills fromhis pocket. "Not broke, yet."
"Oh!" The man looked at him with interest. "Say!" he exclaimed. "Ishouldn't wonder if you'd do!"
"For what?" the boy asked.
"I'm off to the Spanish Main to take pictures--native life, ancientruins, and all that. There's a lot of stuff to lug, and--" he hesitated,"perhaps a fight to step into now and then! Want to go?"
"_Do_ I?" Johnny grabbed the two largest bags.
"There's no money in it! Just experience and expenses."
"All right! What are we waiting for?" Johnny led the way up thegang-plank.
All that had been two months before and what wonderful months those hadbeen! Sailing from island to island, they had taken pictures of quaint,native homes, of native women with flashing eyes, of ancient buccaneercannon, fast rusting to nothingness. There had been three excitingfights, with men who had thought they were intruding. In one of these, amachete had come within a fraction of an inch of Johnny's ear. He seemedto feel the cool swish of it now.
Then, he thought with a sigh, those golden days had ended. Lee Martin,the photographer, had been called back to New York.
"You keep the stuff," Lee had said to Johnny. "You may be able to getsome unusual pictures. If you do--send 'em home to me. I'll see what Ican make out of 'em, for you."
Johnny had watched Lee's boat fade into the distance. Then, with heavyheart, he had marched back to his lodgings in Port au Prince, the capitalof the Island Republic of Haiti.
That very day he had noticed the _Sea Nymph_, located the man in charge,and signed up as watch. His photographic equipment was in his stateroom.He had laid in a good supply of film packs and plates. Would he findopportunity to use them? Would he get some unusual pictures to send toLee Martin? Time was to answer all these questions in its own way....
"It's a strange layout," he thought, as he took a turn about the deck. "Isuppose I'll know what it's all about before long."
It was indeed a strangely equipped craft. A three-master, with anauxiliary motor for bad weather, the _Sea Nymph_ had been built forisland trade. Since the bottom had dropped out of the sugar market, shehad been lying idle in the harbor. Without making many changes, theelderly professor had equipped her for his purpose, whatever that mightbe. Johnny had not yet been told. There had been a hold at the boat'scenter, for sugar and other freight. This had been transformed into atank--or swimming pool. Johnny could not tell which. Doris, garbed in agay swim suit, had taken a morning plunge there, but he had a notion itwas for some other purpose, also.
Strangest of all, close to the stern where it could be reached by thestout hoists, was a large, hollow steel ball. It was all of eight feet indiameter, and its walls were several inches thick. What, he had askedhimself more than once, could that be for? But he had asked no one else.The natives would not know, and one simply did not ask such questions ofan employer. Besides, Johnny had learned long before, it is a waste oftime to ask questions which, in good time, will answer themselves....