IN HOT PURSUIT
Captain Matthews had obtained the name of the suspicious schooner from
the master of the _Norsk_. It was _Philomel_, and he at once recognized
it as that of a well-known craft belonging to a sea-otter trader, which
he had frequently seen plying her honest vocation among the islands of
the Aleutian chain. “That is a new dodge and a good one,” he muttered.
“The rascals knew the risk of bringing a strange vessel into the sea,
and so have chartered a well-known craft, thinking that she can go
where she pleases without exciting suspicion. I am on to their game,
though, and they must be a good deal smarter than I think they are if
we don’t have them alongside before many days are past.”
The _Phoca_ first ran down to Oonalaska and dropped anchor in Captain’s
Harbor on the second day after leaving St. Paul. Here her commander
learned, without going ashore, that the _Philomel_ had been chartered
by one Jalap Coombs, and had cleared five days before for a general
trading voyage to Oonimak Island and other Bering Sea points lying to
the eastward.
“Ho! ho! my veteran poacher with the medicinal name! It is you, is it?
and up to your old tricks!” said Captain Matthews to himself, as he
ordered his vessel to be got under way for the eastward.
Late that same afternoon the schooner _Philomel_ was reported at anchor
off the northeast point of Oonimak, and close in shore.
“Very good, sir,” said the captain to his first lieutenant, who made
this report; “we will anchor for the night a cable’s length outside of
her, and you will at once send an officer on board to make a careful
examination of her cargo. If he finds anything suspicious about
her――any guns, extra boats, or other evidences of a sealing outfit――let
him bring her skipper back with him.”
To the surprise of those on board the cutter, she had barely dropped
anchor before a small boat containing two men was seen to put off
from the schooner and come towards her. Captain Matthews, who was
curious to see what sort of a man he had to deal with, stepped on
deck in time to receive a genuine surprise. Instead of the old
sea-dog whom he expected, he beheld a fine-looking man of middle age,
wearing an iron-gray mustache, and clad in the soft hat, corduroy
suit, knee-breeches, worsted stockings, and heavy walking shoes of a
gentleman tourist or sportsman. Lifting his hat as he stepped on deck
and approached the captain, the stranger asked:
“Are you the commander of this vessel, sir?”
“I am,” replied Captain Matthews. Then, thinking to display at once
the extent of his information, he added: “And you, I presume, are the
person who has chartered yonder schooner?”
“I am, sir,” answered the stranger; “and my name is――”
“Coombs, is it not?”
“Oh no! Mr. Coombs is still in the boat, and we have come off to beg
your assistance. As I was about to say, my――”
“Excuse me,” interrupted the captain, “but I fear you are applying
to the wrong person for assistance in the business in which you are
engaged.”
“Do you know what it is, then?” asked the stranger, with an air of
surprise.
“I have reason to believe that you are after seal-skins,” was the
reply, given with an air that seemed to say: “Deny it if you can.”
“I am willing to acknowledge that part of our business here was to
secure certain seal-skins that had been left on yonder island. That,
however, devolved entirely upon Mr. Coombs, and was something with
which I had nothing to do. My errand here, and the one in which I hoped
for your assistance, is the searching for a lost boy――my own son, in
fact. He was known to be on Oonimak Island two weeks ago; but now,
though we have scoured the island from end to end, we can discover no
traces of him.”
“Bless my soul!” cried Captain Matthews. “And your name is――”
“John Ryder; while that of my lost boy, on whose account I am suffering
the greatest anxiety, is Philip――Philip Ryder.”
“Yes, yes! my dear sir! I know him well, the young scamp! And you may
instantly set your mind at rest concerning him. He is safe, sound, and
hearty, not far from here――in a place from which he cannot possibly
escape. Why! he was on board this very ship only a few days ago.”
“But where is he now?” asked Mr. Ryder, eagerly.
“Just over here on one of the Pribyloff Islands, where you will find
him as snug as a bug in a rug; only I defy you to distinguish him from
a dozen of the other young Aleuts there.”
“Then,” sighed the happily relieved but still anxious father, “he is
still three hundred miles away from me.”
“Oh no! not so far as that. Barely two hundred and seventy. A mere step
to one who, like yourself, has already covered such great distances in
searching for him. You see, I know all about your fruitless trip to
Victoria. But how on earth do you happen to be here, and in company
with Rhubarb――Hartshorn――Plague take the man’s pharmaceutical name!”
“Perhaps you mean Jalap,” suggested Mr. Ryder, laughing for the first
time in many days.
“Jalap! That is it――Jalap Coombs. But never mind now. Come down into
the cabin and meet my daughter, and take dinner with us. You can’t
imagine what a pleasure as well as a surprise this is to me. And we’ll
have Jalap down too. Then all our yarns can be spliced together, and
served, until there’s no sign of a break left. Mr. Nelson, will you
kindly invite Mr. Coombs aboard, and in my name request the pleasure of
his company at the cabin dinner-table. Let one of the men look after
his boat. Now, Mr. Ryder, if you are ready.”
Thus it happened that, a few minutes later, the very cabin which had so
recently received Phil and Serge into its cheery presence was occupied
by a group of those friends who were most deeply interested in or had
shared their adventures and experiences. Captain Matthews and Mr. John
Ryder were equally pleased with each other, while Miss May found the
unique personality of Jalap Coombs so fascinating that she devoted
herself to drawing him out and making him feel at home.
The honest sailor was at first shy and embarrassed amid his unaccustomed
surroundings, but under the charming influence of his fair hostess his
self-possession was soon entirely restored. Thus, when she finally said:
“And now, Mr. Coombs, do begin at the very beginning, and tell us how
you happened to desert those poor young lads and leave them without any
one to take care of them on this desolate island,” he readily replied as
follows:
“Wal, marm――that is to say, miss――as old Kite Roberson uster say――”
“I knew he would come in!” cried Miss May, laughing and clapping her
hands.
“Who, marm?” asked the mate, turning a bewildered gaze towards the
cabin-door.
“Your friend Mr. Robinson, of course.”
“Yes, to be sure. You see, me and him’s been friends so long――it’s
going on forty year off and on, boy _and_ man――that now wherever you
find one you’re likely to run agin t’other on the next tack. Wal, he
uster say, Kite did, that while a word’s a word, it has as many sounds
as there be people that uses it. So, while the word desartion has a
pleasant sound coming from your lips, it’s mighty ugly from some; and
I’m proud of the chance to clear myself of the charge, seeing as I
didn’t do it intentional, but with the best of intentions.
“So, to begin with, the day on which I were left, or, as some might
ignorantly call it, desarted, by my young shipmates, on that very day
along comes a schooner, the same _Philomeel_ that is now swinging under
our starn. Although she were in charge of a crew of natyves, with a
natyve cap’n, _and_ in a powerful hurry, she stopped at my signal and
sent a boat ashore to see what was up.
“Do all I could I couldn’t strike no bargain with ’em, nor get ’em to
wait till I could go for the boys. The best they would do was to offer
me passage to Oonalaska, where her owner lived, who, so they said,
would give me a charter in no time. So, seeing as I couldn’t do no
better, and thinking I’d be back again inside of three days, I left a
note for the boys and went aboard. We made a quick run to Oonalaska,
but when I tried to get a charter out of the owner, he wouldn’t hear
of nothing but cash down, and as I hadn’t dollars enough to charter a
dingy, let alone a schooner, there I was. For the best part of a week
I stayed in that melancholy seaport, wishing as I’d never heered of it,
and laboring day by day with the shark what owns the _Philomeel_. I
offered him a quarter of the seal-skins, then a half, and finally the
whole of ’em, only to let his schooner go and fetch off the boys.”
“What a horrid, avaricious old thing he must be!” cried Miss May,
indignantly.
“It ain’t no name for it, marm――that is to say, miss. He is a ‘hunks’
if ever there was one, and so I up and told him. He said he didn’t
believe I had any seal-skins, but just wanted to get his schooner for a
poaching cruise in the sea. While I was thus jibing and filling without
making an inch of headway, a Dutch steamer come in, and I offered
the skins to him to go and fetch the boys back to Oonalaska; but the
Dutchman was suspicious, like the rest of ’em, and said he was in a
hurry to get to St. Michael’s, which, of course, I knowed the boys
wouldn’t want to go there, anyway, seeing as it would make ’em wuss off
than ever.
“Finally, when I was wellnigh desperate and at the end of my cable, the
Sitka steamer came in, and I went aboard to see what I could do with
her cap’n. There I run across the very Mr. Ryder what sits facing of
me at this minute, who, when he heard me say as my name were Coombs,
speaks up quick and sez, ‘Jalap?’ and I sez, ‘Jalap it is.’ Then he
sez, fierce-like, ‘Where’s my boy?’ With that I knowed for the fust
time who he was, and I sez, ‘Don’t ask me, Mr. Ryder, but count on me
to help ye find him, for,’ sez I, ‘I’m as bound as you be to do it, ef
it takes every seal-skin I’m wuth.’
“That same day we had the _Philomeel_ chartered for cash, with me in
as cap’n, and was cracking sail on to her for this blessed island of
Oonimak. We made port in fine style, with our flag a-flying, and would
have fired off our kerosene stove, only we didn’t have any. But it
warn’t no use. There wasn’t nary soul in sight, nor hasn’t been from
that day to this. The seal-skins was gone, too, and it’s my opinion
that blooming Dutchman come along and shanghaied ’em.”
“No, he didn’t,” laughed Captain Matthews. “I seized them in the name
of the United States, and they are in the hold of this very ship at
this very minute.”
“Wal,” said Jalap Coombs, with a comical air of resignation, “ef
government’s got ’em ’tain’t no use, and I might as well do like old
Kite Roberson said. He uster say, ‘Jalap, my son, let by-goners be
by-goners, and never waste time in fretting over lost fish.’”