ENTER MR. FINNEGAN
With that crash the floor shot from under their feet. Stumbling and
clutching, the three, Marian, Rod, and the captain, pitched across the
deck and landed in a heap against the rail. The lighted cabin seemed
to rear straight up from the deck and lunge toward them. There was an
uproar of shouts, a hideous pounding of machinery. Marian shut her
eyes.
Then, with a second deafening crash, the steamer righted herself; and,
thrown like three helpless ninepins, Marian, Rod, and the captain
reeled back from the rail and found themselves, bumped and dizzy,
tangled in a heap of freight and canvas. Rod was the first on his
feet. He snatched Marian up, with a groan.
"Sister! Are you hurt? Tell me, quick."
"Nonsense, no." Marian struggled up, bruised and trembling. "I whacked
my head on the rail, that's all. What has happened?"
"We've struck another bunch of runaway logs. They've fouled our
wheel," shouted the captain. "Put this life-preserver on your sister.
Swing out the yawl, boys!" For the deck crew was already scrambling up
the stairs. "Here, where's Smith?"
"He's below, sir, stayin' by the boiler. The logs struck us for'ard
the gangway. She's got a hole stove in her that you could drive an
ice-wagon through," answered a fireman. "Smith says, head her inshore.
Maybe you can beach her before she goes clean under."
The captain groaned.
"Her first trip for the year! The smartest little boat on the river!
McCloskey!" he shouted angrily up the tube. "Head her inshore, before
she's swamped. You hear that, I reckon?"
"Ay, ay, sir." It was a very meek voice down the tube.
Very slowly the _Lucy_ swung about. Creaking and groaning, she headed
through the darkness for the darker line of willows that masked the
Illinois shore.
For a minute, Roderick and Marian stood together under the swaying
lantern, too dazed by excitement to move. On Marian's forehead a
cheerful blue bump had begun to rise; while Rod's cheek-bone displayed
an ugly bruise. Suddenly Marian spoke.
"Rod! Where is Empress! She will be frightened to death. We must take
her into the yawl with us."
The young fireman turned.
"That grand big cat of yours, ma'am? You'll never coax a cat into an
open boat. They'll die first. But have no fear. We are not a hundred
yards from shore, and in shallow water at that. 'Tis a pity the _Lucy_
is hurt, but it's fortunate for us that she can limp ashore."
Marian felt a little foolish. She pulled off the cork jacket which Rod
had tied over her shoulders.
"We aren't shipwrecked after all, Rod. We're worse frightened than
hurt."
"I'm not so sure of that. Keep that life-preserver on, Sis."
The _Lucy_ was blundering pluckily toward shore. But the deck jarred
with the thud and rattle of thrashing machinery, and at every forward
plunge the boat pitched until it seemed as if the next fling would
surely capsize her.
Rod peered into the darkness.
"We'll make the shore, I do believe. Shall I leave you long enough to
get our bags and Empress?"
"Oh, I'll go too. You'll need me to pacify Empress. She will be
panic-stricken."
Poor Empress was panic-stricken, indeed. The little cabin was a chaos.
The shock of the collision had overturned every piece of furniture.
Even the wall cabinets were upset, and their shells and arrowheads
were scattered far and wide. The beautiful old-time crystal
chandeliers were in splinters. Worst, the big gilt mirror lay on the
floor, smashed to atoms. Only one object in all that cabin held its
place: the stuffed eagle. And high on the eagle's outspread wing,
crouched like a panther, snarling and spitting, her every silky hair
furiously on end, clung poor, terrified Empress. Rod exploded.
"You made friends with the nice bird, after all, didn't you, Empress!
Come on down, kitty. Let me put a life-preserver on you too."
No life-preservers for Empress! Marian coaxed and called in vain. She
merely dug her claws into the eagle's back and growled indignant
refusal.
"Let's go back on deck, Sis. She'll calm down presently."
The _Lucy_ was now working inshore with increasing speed. But, as they
stepped on deck, the boat careened suddenly, then stopped, with a
sickening jolt.
"Never mind, miss," the young fireman quickly assured her. "She has
struck a sand-bar, and there she'll stick, I fear. But we are safe
enough, for the water is barely six feet deep. We'll have to anchor
here for the night, but don't be nervous. She can't sink very far in
six feet of water."
"I suppose not." Yet Marian's teeth chattered. Inwardly she
sympathized with Empress. What a comfort it would be to climb the
stuffed eagle and perch there, well out of reach of even six feet of
black icy water!
The captain was still more reassuring.
"Well, we're lucky that we've brought her this near shore." He wiped
his forehead with a rather unsteady hand. "Ten minutes ago my heart
was in my mouth. I thought sure she'd sink in mid-stream. You're
perfectly safe now, Miss Hallowell. Better go to your state-room and
get some sleep."
"Yes, the _Lucy_ will rest still as a church now," said the young
fireman, with a heartening chuckle. "She's hard aground. Though that's
no thanks to our pilot. I say, McCloskey! Where were you trying to
steer us? Into a lumber-yard?"
Down the hurricane deck came Mr. McCloskey, white beard waving, eyes
twinkling, jaunty and serene as a May morning.
"This little incident is no fault of me steerin'," said he, with
delightful unconcern. "'Twas the carelessness of thim raftsmen,
letting their logs get away, no less. Sure, captain dear, I'd sue them
for damages."
"I'll be more likely to sue you for running full speed after dark,
against orders," muttered the captain. Then he laughed. "I ought to
put you in irons. But the man doesn't live that can hold a grudge
against you, McCloskey. Take hold now, boys. Bank your fires, then
we'll patch her up as best we can for the night."
Marian went to her state-room, but not to sleep. There was little
sleep that night for anybody. In spite of protecting sand-bar and
anchor, the boat careened wretchedly. Strange groans and shrieks rose
from the engine-room; hurrying footsteps came and went through the
narrow gangway. And the rush of the swift current, the bump of
ice-cakes, and the sweep of floating brush past her window kept her
aroused and trembling. It seemed years before the tiny window grew
gray with dawn.
The captain's voice reached her ears.
"No, the _Lucy_ isn't damaged as badly as we thought. But it will take
us two days of bulkheading before we dare go on. You'd best take your
sister up to the camp in my launch. It is at your service."
"That's good news!" sighed Marian. "Anything to escape from this
sinking ship. I don't like playing Casabianca one bit."
She swallowed the hot coffee and corn bread which the captain's boy
brought to her door, and hurried on deck. Their embarking was highly
exciting; for poor Empress, having been coaxed with difficulty from
the eagle's roost, where she had spent the night, promptly lost her
head at sight of the water and fled shrieking to the pilot-house. Rod,
the pilot, the engineer, and the young fireman together hunted her
from her fastness, and, after a wild chase, returned scratched but
victorious, with Empress raging in a gunny-sack.
"Best keep her there till you're ashore, miss," laughed the young
fireman. And Marian took the precaution to tie the mouth of the sack
with double knots.
Up-stream puffed the launch, past Grafton Landing into the narrower
but clearer current of the Illinois River. Now the black mud banks
rose into bluffs and wooded hills. Here and there a marshy backwater
showed a faint tinge of early green. But there was not a village in
sight; not even a solitary farm-house. Hour after hour they steamed
slowly up the dull river, beneath the gray mist-hooded sky. Marian
looked resentfully at her brother. He had unrolled a portfolio of
blue-prints, and sat over them, as absorbed and as indifferent to the
cold and discomfort as if he were sitting at his own desk at home.
"He's so rapt over his miserable old contract that he is not giving me
one thought," Marian sulked to herself. "I just wish that I had put my
foot down, and had refused, flatly, to come with him. If I had dreamed
the West would be like this!"
Presently the launch whistled. An answering whistle came from
up-stream. Rod dropped his blue-prints with a shout.
"Look, Marian. There is the contract camp, the whole plant! See,
straight ahead!"
Marian stared. There was not a house to be seen; but high on the right
bank stood an army of tents; and below, moored close to shore, lay a
whole village of boats, strung in long double file. Midway stood a
gigantic steam-dredge. Its vivid red-painted machinery reared high on
its black, oil-soaked platform, its strange sprawling crane spread its
iron wings, like the pinions of some vast ungainly bird of prey.
Around it were ranked several flat-boats, a trim steam-launch, a
whole regiment of house-boats. Rod's eyes sparkled. He drew a sharp
breath.
"This is my job, all right. Isn't it sumptuous, Marian! Will you look
at that dredge! Isn't she magnificent? So is the whole outfit, barges
and all. That's worth walking from Boston to see!"
"Is it?" Marian choked back the vicious little retort. "Well, I'd be
willing to walk back to Boston--to get away!"
"Ahoy the launch! This is Mr. Hallowell?" A tall, haggard man in
oilskins and hip boots came striding across the dredge. "Glad to see
you, sir. We hoped that you would arrive to-day. I am Carlisle, the
engineer in charge." He leaned over the rail to give Rod's hand a
friendly grip. He spoke with a dry, formal manner, yet his lean yellow
face was full of kindly interest. "And this is your sister, Miss
Hallowell? You have come to a rather forlorn summer resort, Miss
Hallowell, but we will do our best to make it endurable for you."
Roderick, red with pleasure, stood up to greet his new chief. Behind
Mr. Carlisle towered a broad-shouldered, heavily built young man, in
very muddy khaki and leggings, his blond wind-burnt face shining with
a hospitable grin.
"This is our Mr. Burford, Mr. Hallowell. At present, you and he will
superintend the night shifts."
Mr. Burford gave Roderick a hearty handshake, and beamed upon Marian.
"Mr. Burford will be particularly glad to welcome you, Miss Hallowell,
on Mrs. Burford's account. She has been living here on the work for
several months, the only lady who has graced our camp until to-day. I
know that she will be eager for your companionship."
Mr. Burford grew fairly radiant.
"Sally Lou will be wild when she learns that you are really here," he
declared eagerly, in his deep southern drawl. "She has talked of your
coming every minute since the news came that we might hope to have you
with us. You will find us a mighty primitive set, but you and Sally
Lou can have plenty of fun together, I know. I'd like to bring her and
the kiddies to see you as soon as you feel equal to receiving us."
"Thank you very much." Marian tried her best to be gracious and
friendly. But she was so tired that young Burford's broad smiling face
seemed to blur and waver through a thickening mist. "I'm sure I shall
be charmed----"
"Hi, there!" An angry shout broke upon her words. "Mr. Carlisle, will
you look here! That foreman of yours has gone off with my skiff again.
If I'm obliged to share my boat with your impudent riffraff----"
"Mr. Marvin, will you kindly come here a moment?" The chief's voice
did not lose its even tone; but his heavy brows narrowed. "I wish you
to meet Mr. Hallowell, who is your and Mr. Burford's new associate.
Miss Hallowell, may I present Mr. Marvin?"
Marian bowed and looked curiously at the tall, dark-featured young man
who shuffled forward. She remembered the captain's terse
description--"a cub engineer, and a grizzly cub at that." Mr. Marvin
certainly acted the part. He barely nodded to her and to Roderick,
then clamored on with his grievance.
"You know I've told the men time and again to leave my boat alone.
But your foreman borrows my launch whenever he takes the notion, and
leaves her half-swamped, or high and dry, as he chooses. If you won't
jack him up for it, I will. I'll not tolerate----"
"I'll take that matter up later, Mr. Marvin." Marvin's sullen face
reddened at the tone in his chief's voice. "Mr. Hallowell, I have
found lodgings for your sister three miles up the canal, at the Gates
farm. Mr. Burford will take you to Gates's Landing, thence you will
drive to the farm-house. Your own quarters will be on the engineers'
house-boat, and we shall hope to see you here for dinner to-night.
Good-by, Miss Hallowell. I hope that Mrs. Gates will do everything to
make you comfortable."
The launch puffed away up the narrow muddy canal. It was a straight,
deep stream of brown water, barely forty feet wide. Its banks were a
high-piled mass of mire and clay, for the levee-builders had not yet
begun work. Beyond rose clumps of leafless trees. Then, far as eye
could see, muddy fields and gray swampy meadows. Rod gazed, radiant.
"Isn't it splendid, Marian! The finest equipment I ever dreamed of.
Look at those barges!"
"Those horrid flat-boats heaped with coal?"
"Yes. Think of the yardage record we're making. Five thousand yards a
day!"
Marian rubbed her aching eyes.
"I don't know a yardage record from a bushel basket," she sighed.
"What is that queer box-shaped red boat, set on a floating platform?"
"That is the engineers' house-boat, where your brother is to live.
Mayn't we take you aboard to see?" urged Burford.
Marian stepped on the narrow platform and peered into the cubby-hole
state-rooms and the clean, scoured mess-room. She was too tired to be
really interested.
"And that funny, grass-green cabin, set on wooden stilts, up that
little hill--that play-house?"
Burford laughed.
"That's my play-house. Sally Lou insists on living right here, so that
she and the babies and Mammy Easter can keep a watchful eye on me. You
and Sally Lou will be regular chums, I know. She is not more than a
year or so older than you are, and it has been pretty rough on her to
leave her home and come down here. But she says she doesn't care; that
she'd rather rough it down here with me than mope around home, back in
Norfolk, without me. It surely is a splendid scheme for me to have her
here." He laughed again, with shy, boyish pride. "Sally Lou is a
pretty plucky sort. And, if I may say it, so are you."
Marian managed to smile her thanks. Inwardly she was hoping that the
marvellous Sally Lou would stay away and leave her in peace. She was
trembling with fatigue. Through the rest of the trip she hardly spoke.
At Gates's Landing they were met by a solemn, bashful youth and a
buckboard drawn by two raw, excited horses. They whirled and bumped
through a rutted woods road and stopped at last before a low white
farm-house. Marian realized dimly that Rod was carrying her upstairs
and into a small tidy room. She was so utterly tired that she dropped
on the bed and slept straight through the day.
She did not waken until her landlady's tap called her to supper. Mr.
and Mrs. Gates, two quiet, elderly people, greeted her kindly, and set
a Homeric feast before her: shortbread and honey, broiled squirrels
and pigeon stew, persimmon jam and hot mince pie. She ate dutifully,
then crept back to her little room, with its mournful hair wreaths and
its yellowed engravings of "Night and Morning" and "The Death-bed of
Washington," and fell asleep again.
The three days that followed were like a queer, tired dream. It rained
night and day. The roads were mired hub deep. Roderick could not drive
over to see her, but he telephoned to her daily. But his hasty
messages were little satisfaction. The heavy rains had overflowed the
big ditch, he told her. That meant extra work for everybody on the
plant. Carlisle was wretchedly sick, so Rod and Burford were sharing
their chief's watch in addition to their own duties. Worst, Marvin had
quarrelled with the head runner of the big dredge, and "We're having
to spend half our time in coddling them both for fear they'll walk off
and leave us," as Rod put it. In short, Roderick had neither time nor
thought for his sister. Marian realized that her brother was not
inconsiderate. He was absorbed in his work and in its risks. Yet she
keenly resented her loneliness.
"It isn't Rod's fault. But if I had dreamed that the West would be
like this!"
But on the fourth day, while she sat at her window looking out at the
endless rain, there came a surprising diversion.
"A gentleman to see you, Miss Hallowell. Will you come downstairs?"
"Why, Commodore McCloskey!" Marian hurried down, delighted. "How good
of you to come!"
Commodore McCloskey, dripping from his sou'wester to his mired boots,
beamed like a drenched but cheery Santa Claus.
"I've taken the liberty to bring a friend to call," he chuckled. "He's
young an' green, an' 'tis few manners he owns, but he's good stock,
an'--Here, ye rascal! Shame on ye, startin' a fight the minute ye
enter the house!"
Marian gasped. Past her, with a wild miauw, shot a yellow streak. That
streak was Empress. Straight after the streak flew a fat, brown,
curly object, yapping at the top of its powerful lungs. Up the
window-curtain scrambled Empress. With a frantic leap she landed on
the frame of Grandpa Gates's large crayon portrait. Beneath the
portrait her curly pursuer yelped and whined.
"Why, he's a collie puppy. Oh, what a beauty! What is his name?"
"Beauty he is. And his name is Finnegan, after the poem, 'Off again,
on again, gone again, Finnegan.' Do ye remember? 'Tis him to the life.
He is a prisint to ye from Missis McCloskey and meself. An' our
compliments an' good wishes go wid him!"
"How more than kind of you!" Marian, delighted, stooped to pat her new
treasure. Finnegan promptly leaped on her and spattered her fresh
dress with eager, muddy paws. He then caught the table-cover in his
teeth. With one frisky bounce he brought a shower of books and
magazines to the floor. Mr. McCloskey clutched for his collar. The
puppy gayly eluded him and made a dash for the pantry. Marian caught
him just as he was diving headlong into the open flour-barrel.
"I do thank you so much! He'll be such a pleasure; and such a
protection," gasped Marian, snatching Mrs. Gates's knitting work from
the puppy's inquiring paws.
"'Tis hardly a protector I'd call him," Mr. McCloskey returned. "But
he'll sure keep your mind employed some. Good-day to ye, ma'am. And
good luck with Finnegan."
Poor Empress! In her delight with this new plaything, Marian quite
forgot her elder companion. Moreover, as Mr. McCloskey had said,
Finnegan could and did keep her mind employed, and her hands as well.
"That pup is energetic enough, but he don't appear to have much
judgment," said Mrs. Gates, mildly. In two hours Finnegan had carried
off the family supply of rubbers and hid them in the corn-crib; he had
torn up one of Rod's blue-prints; he had terrorized the hen-yard; he
had chased Empress from turret to foundation-stone. At length Empress
had turned on him and cuffed him till he yelped and fled to the
kitchen, where he upset a pan of bread sponge.
"Suppose you take him for a walk, down to the big ditch. Maybe the
fresh air will calm him down."
Marian made a leash of clothes-line and marched Finnegan down the
sodden woods toward the ditch. She was so busy laughing at his droll
performances that she quite forgot the dull fields, the wet, gray
prospect. Crimson-cheeked and breathless, she finally dragged him from
the third alluring rabbit-hole, despite his pleading whines, and
started back up the canal. As she pushed through a hedge of willows a
sweet, high, laughing voice accosted her.
"Good-morning, my haughty lady! Won't you stop and talk with us a
while?"
Startled, Marian turned toward the call. Across the ditch, high on the
opposite bank, stood the quaintest, prettiest group that her eyes had
ever beheld. A tall, fair-haired girl of her own age, dressed in a
bewitching short-waisted gown of scarlet and a frilly scarlet bonnet,
stood in the leafless willows, a tiny white-clad child in her arms.
Behind her a stout beaming negress in bandanna turban and gay plaid
calico was lifting another baby high on her ample shoulder.
Marian stared, astonished. The whole group might well have stepped
straight out of some captivating old engraving of the days before the
war.
"Haven't you time to pass the time o' day?" the sweet, mischievous
voice entreated. "You are Miss Hallowell, I know. I'm Sarah Louisiana
Burford, and I am just perishin' to meet you. There is a board bridge
just a rod or so up the canal. We'll meet you there. Do please come,
and bring your delightful dog. March right along now!"
And Marian, laughing with amusement and delight, marched obediently
along.