Kitabı oku: «The Last Cruise of the Spitfire: or, Luke Foster's Strange Voyage», sayfa 3

CHAPTER VI
A TURN OF FORTUNE

It was now almost nine o'clock, and Nassau Street, where the patent offices of Stillwell, Grinder & Co. were situated, was crowded with people. My uncle made such a show of what he was doing that it was not long before quite a crowd was following us, all anxious to know what had happened.

"There is no use of your making such a show of the poor boy," said Mr. Banker. "You act as if he had murdered some one."

"Mind your own business," snarled Mr. Stillwell.

Mr. Banker was an upright farmer, and there was little of natural meekness in his nature. He resented my uncle's speech, and quite an altercation took place.

While the two were talking I was doing some hard thinking. The idea of going to prison became every moment more odious to me. I could fancy myself in a dark, damp cell, surrounded by criminals of every degree, awaiting a hearing. What would my friends think? And if the affair once got into the newspapers my good name would be gone forever.

The more I thought of the matter the more determined I became that I would not go to prison. Suppose I ran away?

No sooner had this foolish thought entered my mind than I prepared to act upon it. We were now on the corner of Fulton Street, and to cross here was all but impossible. My uncle and Mr. Banker were still in hot dispute, and for an instant neither of them noticed me.

"Good-bye, Mr. Banker, I'm off!" I cried out suddenly.

And the next moment I had torn myself loose from my uncle's grasp, and was dashing down Fulton Street at the top of my speed.

"Hi! come back!" called out Mr. Banker after me; but I paid no heed.

"Stop him! Stop him!" yelled my uncle. "Stop the thief!"

His last words set the street in commotion. The cry of "Stop the thief!" resounded on all sides, and soon it seemed to me that I was being followed by at least half a hundred men and boys, all eager to stop me in hopes of a possible reward.

But now that I had once started, I made up my mind not to be captured. I was a good block ahead, and by skillful turning I gradually managed to increase the distance.

I was headed for the East River, and it was not long before I came in sight of the docks and the ferry slips. At one of the slips stood a ferry-boat just preparing to leave for Brooklyn.

The sight of the boat gave me a sudden thought. I dashed into the ferry-house, paid the ferry fare, and in a moment was on board, just as the boat left the slip.

It had been a long and hard run, but at last I was safe from being followed. Once in Brooklyn there would be a hundred places for me to go in case of necessity.

Wiping the perspiration from my face, I made my way to the forward deck. But few people were on board, and quite undisturbed, I leaned against the railing to review the situation.

What should I do next, was the question that arose to my mind, and I found no little difficulty in answering it. I was half inclined to think that I had acted very foolishly in running away. Now every one would surely believe me guilty, and if I was caught it would go hard indeed with me.

Had I better go back? For one brief instant I thought such a course would be best; then came the vision of the cell, and I shuddered, and resolved, now I had undertaken to escape, to continue as I had begun. Whether I was wise or not I will leave my readers to determine after my story is concluded.

It was not long before the boat bumped into the slip on the opposite shore. The shock brought me to a recollection of the present, and in company with the other passengers I went ashore. I had something of a notion that a policeman would be in waiting for me, but none appeared, and I passed out to the street unaccosted.

I had been to Brooklyn several times on errands for the firm, so I knew the streets quite well. But fearful of being seen, I passed close to the wharves, and finally came to a lumber yard, and here I sat down.

It was a hot day, and it was not long before I was forced to seek the shade. Close at hand was a shed, and this I took the liberty of entering.

It was a rough place, used for the seasoning of the better class of wood. I found a seat on some ends of planking in a cool corner, quite out of the line of observation of those who were passing.

Here I sat for full an hour. Nothing seemed to be going on in the lumber yard, and no one came to disturb me.

But at last came voices, and then two rough looking men approached. I was about to make my presence known, but their appearance was such that I remained silent; and they took seats close to the spot where I was.

"And the captain is sure that she is fully insured?" asked the taller of the two.

"Trust Captain Hannock to cover himself well!" laughed the other. "You can bet he has her screwed up to the top notch."

"And what is this cargo insured for?"

"McNeil didn't say. Not much less than a hundred thousand, I guess. Of course you'll go, Crocker?"

"Ya-as," replied the man addressed as Crocker, somewhat slowly. "I can't pick up a thousand dollars any easier than that."

"I thought I had struck you right. Are you ready to sail?"

"Anytime you say, Lowell. I owe two weeks' board now, and Mammy Brown hinted last night I'd better pay up or seek other quarters."

And Crocker gave a short, hard laugh.

"Then meet me at the Grapevine in an hour," said the man called Lowell. "I've got to make a few other arrangements before we start."

"Right you are."

"And remember, not a word – "

"Luff there! As if I didn't understand the soundings."

"All right. Come and have one."

The two men arose at once and headed for a saloon that stood upon the near corner.

I arose also and watched them out of sight. The conversation that they had held had not been a very lucid one, yet I was certain they were up to no good. One of them had spoken of making a thousand dollars in an easy manner, and I was positive that meant the money was to be gained dishonestly.

What was I to do? I was no detective, to follow the men, and I was just at present on far from good terms with the police. It seemed a pity to let the matter rest where it stood, but for the present I did not feel inclined to investigate it. I would keep my eyes open, and if anything more turned up, or was noted in the papers, I would tell all I had heard.

I wandered along the docks, piled high with merchandise of all descriptions. Beyond, a number of stately vessels rested at anchor, large and small, among which the steam tugs were industriously puffing and blowing, on the lookout for a job.

The sight was a novel one to me, and soon I walked out upon the end of a dock to get a better view.

"Hi, there! No loafing on this pier!" called a burly watchman; and I lost no time in moving on.

Presently I came to a wharf that seemed to be more public, and walked out to one side of it. Here it was shady, and close at hand floated a large row-boat.

The craft was deserted. Wishing to observe the scene without being noticed, I leaped into her. There was a cushion on the stern seat, and on this I sat down.

The breeze and the gentle motion of the boat were delightful, and for a moment I thought how pleasant a life on the ocean must be. Alas! little did I realize what was in store for me on the boundless deep.

As I sat on the soft cushion I could not help but speculate on all that had transpired within the last few hours. Early in the morning my mind had been free from care that was anyway deep; now I was a fugitive, not knowing which way to turn or what to do.

But I was not disheartened. I was healthy and strong and I felt confident that I could work my way in the world. But I was worried about clearing my fair name of the suspicion Uncle Felix had cast upon it. I must do that at any and all costs.

Presently a footstep sounded above me on the dock, and a well-dressed young man appeared.

"Hullo, there!" he cried, on catching sight of me.

"Hullo!" I replied, shortly. I was not in a talkative humor, and wished him to know it.

"What are you doing down there?" he went on, rather sharply.

"Nothing much."

"Do you know that that is my boat?"

"No, I didn't know it," I returned, and then jumped to my feet. "Excuse me, but I haven't hurt anything."

"But what are you doing there?"

"Only resting. I've walked a good bit to-day and I am tired. I'll go if you want to use the boat."

"Oh, no, that's all right. I don't want the boat for a couple of hours yet. You may stay where you are."

"Thank you."

He was about to turn away, but a sudden thought seemed to come into his mind.

"You say you have walked a good bit to-day?" he asked curiously.

"That's it."

"You are not out of work and on the tramp, are you?"

"Something like that," I replied. "I'm out of work and as I can't pay to journey around, I'll have to walk."

"I see. Well, I hope you strike something before long. It's not pleasant to be out of work and money."

The young man nodded pleasantly and walked away. I must confess I gazed after him longingly. I warmly appreciated the few kind words he had given me.

As I turned back to sit down once more I heard two men get up from behind a number of packing-cases on the pier, and walk away. I had not noticed them before, and I wondered if they had overheard the conversation which had taken place.

It was rather warm in the boat, and the rocking motion caused by the waves soon put me in a drowsy mood. My time was my own, and I felt in no humor to move away. I allowed my head to fall back, and almost before I knew it I had dropped into a light doze.

My wakening was a rude one. The row-boat gave a violent lurch, nearly precipitating me into the water. I tried to scramble to my feet, but some one with a big bag pushed me back.

"Here, what does this mean – " I began, indignantly.

"Shut up!" come back in hurried tones.

Then the bag was pulled over my head and arms, and in five seconds I found myself a prisoner and hardly able to move hands or feet.

I tried to cry out and to ask questions, but could not. The bag was thick, and, being tied around my neck, almost took away my breath.

For the first instant I was afraid that the police from New York had found me, but I as quickly gave up this idea. They would never treat me in this strange fashion, I felt certain. But who were my strange assailants, and what did they intend to do with me?

I felt myself lifted out of the boat and into another craft. Then I was thrown on my back and something that felt like a piece of canvas was spread over me.

The boat, with me and my captors moved off and kept moving for perhaps ten minutes or quarter of an hour. I tried to struggle to my feet, but strung hands held me down.

"Better keep still!" I heard a voice cry. "You can't escape, no matter how hard you try."

When the boat finally came to a standstill I was nearly suffocated for the want of fresh air, and I wondered if I had not been chloroformed when first assaulted. I was hoisted up by several men and placed upon my feet, and then the cords which bound me were cut and the bag was removed.

I looked around with a start. I was on shipboard, with the great ocean all around me.

"Down with him!" shouted a voice behind me.

Before I could turn to face the speaker a big black hole loomed up in front of me, and I was tumbled down into utter darkness. The hatch above was closed, and I was left a prisoner!

CHAPTER VII
ON BOARD THE SPITFIRE

As I have said, I was tumbled into the black hole, and the hatch was closed over me. Luckily I fell upon a pile of loose sailing, so my fall was broken and did me no harm.

But I was so completely bewildered by what had taken place that for a moment I did not know what had happened. Then I gradually became wide awake, and realized that I had been entrapped on board the vessel, which was probably short of sailors.

I had read of men who were thus pressed into the service, but never dreamed that such a thing could occur so close to the great metropolis, and in broad daylight.

Who my captors were or where they were taking me was a mystery. For an instant I thought the affair might be my uncle's work, but soon dismissed that idea as being too dime-novelish altogether.

With some difficulty I rose to my feet, but the motion of the vessel, as the sailors got her under way, was too strong for me, and I was forced to lie down.

The place was intensely dark, and even after my eyes became accustomed to the blackness, I could see little or nothing. On all sides not a light was to be seen, and overhead only a single streak of brightness around the hatch was visible. I was indeed a prisoner, and must make the best of it.

I crawled about the hold for quite a while, feeling everywhere for a place to escape, but none came to hand. Meanwhile I heard the creaking of the blocks as the sails were being hoisted, and the tramp of the sailors as they hurried around obeying orders. I could hear the murmur of voices, but try my best, could not make out a word of what was being said.

Presently, by the motion beneath me, I knew we were fully under way. The cargo below me groaned as it shifted an inch or two this way and that, and for an instant I was alarmed lest a case of goods should by some chance break loose and crush me. But nothing of the kind happened, and after a while all became comparatively quiet.

I knew not what time of the day it was, but judged it must be about the middle of the afternoon. How much longer would my captivity last?

If I could have found something with which to do so, I would have climbed up to the hatch, or shoved it open. But nothing was at hand, and the opening was fully five feet above my head.

The air in the hold was stifling and soon I breathed with difficulty. I longed for a drink of water, and wondered how long I could stand being in the place should those on deck forget I was there.

But those on deck had not forgotten me, as I soon saw. Presently the hatch was raised, letting in a flood of sunshine, and then a man's head was bent low.

"Below there!" he called out.

"Let me out," I replied.

"Will you be easy if we do?" he went on.

"That all depends. Why was I brought on board?"

"Because you belong here."

"Belong here!" I ejaculated. "I don't belong to this vessel."

"Well, that's what I was told; I don't know anything about it myself. Here, catch the rope and I'll haul you up."

As the sailor spoke he lowered a piece of heavy rope. Thinking anything would be better than remaining in the hold, I complied with his request, and a moment later stood upon the deck of the vessel.

As I came up, a man, whom I took to be the captain, came towards me. He was a tall, lank individual, with a red beard and hair. The look on his face was a sour one, and it was easy to see that he was not of a kindly nature.

"Hello, my hearty!" he exclaimed. "So you're up at last. Had quite a nap, didn't you?"

"Why was I brought on this ship?" I demanded.

"Why was you brought on board? Well, now, that's a mighty good one, smash the toplight if it isn't."

"You have no right to bring me on board," I went on, "and I want you to put me ashore at once."

The captain gave a scowl.

"See here, youngster, I don't allow any one on board to speak to me in that fashion. You've got to keep a civil tongue in your head."

"Why was I brought on board?"

"Because you belong here."

"I don't belong here."

"Oh, yes, you do."

"I'd like to know why. I never saw or heard of this vessel before."

"Come now, that's a good one. Didn't you sign papers with Lowell yesterday morning?"

This question astonished me in more ways than one. First, because I had not signed papers with any one, and second, because Lowell was the name of one of the men I had overheard talking in the lumber shed in the morning. Was it possible I had been kidnapped upon the same ship the two had been discussing?

"I don't know what you mean," I replied. "I don't know Lowell, and never signed any papers."

"Nonsense. Lowell!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

And the same man I had seen upon the dock in Brooklyn came forward.

"Isn't this Luke Foster that signed with you yesterday?"

"Aye, captain."

I was more astonished than ever. How had they come to know my name!

"So you see there is no mistake," went on the captain, turning to me. "Now I want you to go forward with Lowell. He'll show you the ropes. Come, step lively. We allow no skulking on board the Spitfire. You've signed articles, and you've got to abide by the deed."

"I didn't sign any articles, and if he says so he lies!" I burst out in deep anger at the way I was being treated. "It is true my name is Luke Foster, but how you came by it I don't know."

"Well, you're on the book, and that's all there is to it. Perhaps you were drunk when you signed, but I have nothing to do with that."

"I don't drink," I replied, and such was and is a fact. "This is all a put-up job."

"Hold your tongue!" cried the captain. "Hold your tongue, or I'll crack your head open with a marlinspike! I don't allow any one to talk back to me. Lowell, take him forward."

"Come along," said the sailor. "If the old man gets his dander up it will be all day with you," he added in a whisper.

For a moment I stood irresolute. I had a momentary idea of jumping overboard and swimming for liberty. But land could be seen fully a good half-mile away, and no vessels of consequence were near, so I was forced to give such a course up.

I walked forward, but my mind was in a whirl. Never before had I been so completely taken in. Surely this was escaping from the law with a vengeance!

"Who owns this boat?" I asked, as we reached the forecastle.

"Captain Hannock. She's just as good a two-masted schooner as sails, is the Spitfire; so you have no reason to complain."

"Where are we bound?"

"On an eight months' cruise, up the Down East coast, and then to England."

An eight months' cruise! What a time to stay on shipboard! But perhaps I might escape before the end of the period.

"What's the first landing?"

"New Bedford."

That was not so bad. If I could leave the vessel at that place I could easily find my way up to Boston, and a sojourn in that city would just suit me. All trace of my going there would be lost, and it was not likely that my uncle would look for me so far from New York.

"Here's your bunk, and here's some old clothes to put on," went on Lowell, as he pointed the things out. "You had better save your good clothes for shore. Knocking around the ship will wear them out in no time."

"What am I to do on board?" I asked, as I surveyed the greasy shirt and trousers with some dismay.

"Learn to do your duty as a foremast hand. If you obey orders and don't kick up any muss you'll have a first-class time of it," was his reply.

I was somewhat doubtful of the truth of this statement, but as nothing was to be gained by refuting it, I bit my lips and said nothing.

"You can take your time about changing your clothes," went on Lowell. "There ain't much to do at present. When it storms is the time all hands work lively, for their own sake as much as for the sake of any one else. When you're in working rig come to the bow, and I'll give you a pointer or two about how to tackle things."

With these words the boatswain – for such Lowell was – left me to myself.

CHAPTER VIII
PHIL JONES

I found the forecastle of the Spitfire a dark and rather unwholesome place. The ventilation was bad, and the smell of tar and oakum was so strong that for a moment I had to turn away to catch my breath.

Luckily my bunk was close to the doorway, so I had the best light the place afforded. Close to me was a chest, and upon this I sat down to think.

It would be hard to express my feelings at this moment. Had I gone on board the Spitfire of my own will I would not have considered the matter as bad. True, I had no great fancy for a life on the ocean wave, such as most boys are supposed to cherish. I knew that at best it was little better than a dog's existence.

"Hello, there!"

I looked up. A boy several years younger than myself stood near me. He was thin and pale, and his eyes had a frightened look.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm Polly Jones," he replied.

"Polly Jones," I repeated. "That's a girl's name."

"'Tain't my right name. They used to call me Phil at home, but the sailors all call me Polly here, because they say I act like a girl."

"What do you do on board?" I asked with some curiosity.

"I'm the cabin boy and the cook's help. What are you?"

"I don't know what I am yet. I didn't come on board of my own free will."

"You didn't?" Phil Jones's eyes opened to their widest. "You don't look like a sailor."

"Come down here," said I. "I want to have a talk with you."

The cabin boy gave a sharp look about the deck and then hurried into the forecastle.

"I don't want Captain Hannock to see me down here," he explained. "If he did he'd thrash the life out of me."

"Is the captain such a hard man?"

"Is he? Just you wait until something goes wrong and you'll find out quick enough. See here," the cabin boy bared his arm and exhibited several bruises that made me shudder, "he gave me those day before yesterday, just because I wasn't spry enough to suit him."

"He must be a brute!" I exclaimed. "He shall not treat me like that, I can tell you."

"I'd like to see some one stand up against him," said Phil. "None of the men dare to do it."

"What makes you stay on board?"

"I have to. Captain Hannock has charge of me until I'm twenty-one."

"He is your guardian?"

"Yes."

"He ought to treat you better. Did you ever try to run away?"

"Once; while we were at Baltimore. But Lowell caught me, and the captain nearly killed me when I got back. I could have got away, only I had no money."

"Doesn't the captain allow you anything for your services?" I asked, at the same time wondering if I would be paid for what I was called upon to do.

"Not a cent. To tell the truth he even takes away what the passengers – if we have any – give me."

"He must be mighty mean," said I.

"If you've any money you had better hide it," went on the cabin boy. "'Tain't safe here."

"Thank you, Phil, I'll take your advice. I've got four dollars and a half, and I don't want to lose it."

As I spoke I felt in my pocket to make sure that the amount was still safe.

To my chagrin the money was gone!

I must confess that I felt quite angry when I discovered that my hard-earned savings had been taken from me. To be sure, four dollars and a half was not a large sum, but it had been my entire capital and I had calculated upon doing a great deal with it.

"What's the matter?" asked Phil Jones, as he stood by, watching me turn my pockets inside out to make sure that there was no mistake.

"My money is gone!" I exclaimed. "I have been robbed."

"Where did you have it?"

"Right here, in my vest pocket."

"You're foolish to carry it loose. Any one could take it from you," said the cabin boy, with a knowing shake of his head.

"I didn't take every one for a thief. Who do you suppose took the money?"

"The captain or Lowell. He's only boatswain, but the two work hand in hand."

I had already surmised this from the conversation I had overheard. The two were well mated, and no doubt the sailor was the captain's ready tool on all occasions.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Phil curiously.

"Get it back if I can," I replied with determination. "I'm not going to be fleeced in this manner."

"You'd better let it go," said the cabin boy, with a grave shake of his head. "You'll only get yourself into trouble, and it won't do a bit of good."

Phil Jones's advice was good, and I would have saved myself considerable trouble by following it.

But I was angry, and, as a consequence, did not stop to count the cost.

I searched my other pockets, and soon learned that everything I had had about my person was gone, including the letter from England. No doubt it was through this letter that Captain Hannock had found out my name.