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_THE GO-AHEAD SERIES._
NO MOSS;
OR,
THE CAREER OF A ROLLING STONE
BY HARRY CASTLEMON
AUTHOR OF "THE GUN-BOAT SERIES," "THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES," ETC.
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
PHILADELPHIA
CHICAGO, TORONTO
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
R. W. CARROLL & CO.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States,
for the Southern District of Ohio.
COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY CHARLES A. FOSDICK.
CONTENTS.
I. FIRE QUARTERS
II. SAM BARTON'S HARBORING PLACE
III. A NEW PLAN
IV. TOM IN TROUBLE
V. ATKINS REFUSES DUTY
VI. THE GOVERNOR'S STRATEGY
VII. THE GOVERNOR STORMS THE REBELS
VIII. CROSSING THE SHOALS
IX. JOHNNY HARDING'S VISITORS
X. A STRANGE ENCOUNTER
XI. TOM'S SPLENDID IDEA
XII. HOW IT RESULTED
XIII. CRUSOE AFLOAT AGAIN
XIV. THE PHANTOM SCHOONER
XV. TOM HAS ANOTHER IDEA
XVI. JOHNNY IS MISTAKEN FOR AN ENEMY
XVII. THE BATTLE AT THE BRIDGE
XVIII. THE ROBBERS ARE PUNISHED
XIX. THE ARMY AND NAVY
XX. A CHAPTER OF INCIDENTS
XXI. CONCLUSION
NO MOSS,
OR,
THE CAREER OF A ROLLING STONE.
CHAPTER I.
FIRE QUARTERS.
"Four bells, sir!" reported the messenger-boy, to the officer who had
charge of the deck of the Storm King.
"Very good. Quartermaster, make it so."
The silvery tones of the little bell rang through the vessel, and
immediately there began a great noise and hubbub on the berth-deck,
which, but a moment before, had been so quiet and orderly. Songs, shouts
of laughter, and noises of every description, that can be made only by a
lot of healthy boys just turned loose from their studies, arose through
the hatchway, and presently the crew came tumbling up the ladder. The
foremost held a guitar under his arm; the one that followed at his heels
brought a checker-board; a third had a box of dominoes; and the boy who
brought up the rear carried a single-stick in each hand, and went about
challenging every one he met to a friendly trial of skill. Some of the
crew walked aft to converse with their officers; the boys with the
checkers and dominoes seated themselves on deck to engage in quiet
games; he of the single-sticks very soon found an antagonist; and the
sailor with the guitar perched himself upon the heel of the bowsprit,
and, after tuning his instrument, cleared his throat, preparatory to
treating his companions to a song containing the information that he had
at one time "Sailed in the good ship Bessie."
The second dog-watch (the hours from six until eight in the evening) was
a season of recreation with the students attached to the Storm King, and
they never failed to make the most of it. A first-class boy, or an
ordinary seaman, could then walk up to the executive officer and
challenge him to a contest with broadswords, without committing any
breach of discipline; and the first lieutenant could talk sociably with
his men, with no fear of being brought before the principal and
reprimanded for unofficer-like conduct. The boys played, sang, ran races
through the rigging, swung Indian clubs and dumb-bells, and, of course,
yelled all the while at the top of their lungs.
The Storm King had now been in possession of the principal of the
academy about two months, and was every day growing in favor with the
students. Indeed, the addition of a navy to the academy bid fair to
cause some radical changes in the programme of studies, for military
honors were at a heavy discount, and all the students were working for
positions on board the yacht. No one cared for the colonel's silver
eagle now, but every body cast longing eyes toward the anchors he wore
in his naval shoulder-straps. The little vessel had had at least one
good effect. She had put ambition into the boys, elevated the standard
of scholarship, and convinced such lazy fellows as Martin, Rich, and
Miller, that they must pay more attention to their books, or be left
behind by every student in the academy.
The yacht was in commission now: the Stars and Stripes floated from her
peak, and strict naval discipline had been established. She mounted a
"Long Tom" amid-ships, in the shape of a six-pounder pivot gun; and on
the berth-deck was an ample supply of small arms, consisting of
cutlasses, pikes, pistols, and muskets. The crew numbered twenty boys,
including captain, lieutenants, masters, midshipmen, warrant and petty
officers, and seamen. They were dressed in the uniform of the United
States navy; and the first lieutenant, whose whole soul was wrapped up
in his duties, had drilled them until they were as handy and expert as
the crew of any man-of-war.
The boys never grew tired of their work: they were passionately fond of
this new branch of the service, and their efforts to perfect themselves
in every department of their duties were amusing, and sometimes
ridiculous. On one occasion, a frigate came into the harbor and anchored
a short distance from the Storm King. Instantly the students were on the
alert, for that was the time to learn something. Captain Steele ordered
his executive to follow the man-of-war in striking the time of day; and
this show of respect very soon attracted the attention of the commodore,
who, in the afternoon, put off in his gig to visit the Storm King, where
he was piped over the side, and received with all the ceremony due his
rank. The students obtained liberty, visited the vessel, talked with the
old tars on the streets, and the result was soon apparent: the boat's
crew began to pull the regular man-of-war stroke; the seamen took to
wearing their caps on the back of their heads, hitched up their trowsers
with their elbows, grumbled in the most approved sailor fashion when any
thing went wrong with them, and, when they walked, they rolled from side
to side like vessels in a gale of wind. They remembered all the
sea-phrases they heard the old tars use, and never failed to bring them
in on all proper occasions. It was certainly laughable to hear a
fair-haired little fellow exclaim, "Sink my tarry wig!" whenever he
heard any thing that astonished him.
The boatswain's mate of the yacht made friends with the boatswain of the
frigate, put himself under instructions, and soon learned to use his
whistle with wonderful skill, and to issue his commands in a voice which
seemed to come all the way up from his boots. And then, when he gave an
order, he would hasten obedience by such expressions as--"Rouse a bit,
there!" and "Make a break, now, bullies!" In short, before the frigate
left the harbor, the young sailors had made great improvement in all
the minor branches of their profession, and often told one another that
their rivals at the academy had a good deal to learn before they could
make the crew of the yacht take back seats.
Harry Green was still executive officer of the Storm King. The Court of
Inquiry, which he had requested in his report of the attack made on the
yacht by the Crusoe band, had been held, and the lieutenant came off
with flying colors. The only particular in which he had failed to carry
out the orders of his superior officer was in permitting the governor to
escape: but that was something he could not prevent. Sam, in his
desperation, had jumped overboard before the students could get near
enough to seize him; and Harry had but little difficulty in proving, to
the satisfaction of the Court, that not only was it impossible to pick
him up, but that the attempt to do so would have endangered the vessel
and the lives of his crew. Of course, when Harry was cleared, his
officers and men were cleared also, and allowed to retain their
positions on board the yacht, much to the disappointment of their
rivals, who wanted to man the vessel themselves. But, after all, the
escape from disgrace had been a very narrow one--so much so, in fact,
that the only thing that restrained the students from venting their
spite upon the projector of the attack--Tom Newcombe--was the fear of a
court-martial, and dismissal from the navy. They were all highly enraged
at Tom, and, one day, two of the seamen stopped him on the street, and
told him that if he ever got another idea into his head about that
yacht and attempted to carry it out, they would certainly duck him in
the harbor. The interview took place in front of Mr. Newcombe's
residence. Tom wisely held his peace, and made no reply to the young
sailors' threats until he was safe inside the gate, when he drawled out:
"Didn't I tell you that, if I did not own and sail that yacht, nobody
should? Well, I meant it. I've got another idea."
The young tars, being well acquainted with Tom, understood the meaning
of this declaration, and hurried off to report the matter to the first
lieutenant. Harry listened with evident uneasiness, and, after taking a
few turns across the deck, went ashore to consult Captain Steele.
"If it was any body else in the world," said the executive, after he had
told his story, "I should laugh at it; but, coming from the source it
does, I know it is no laughing matter. Newcombe has given us abundant
proof that he is a reckless, bull-headed rascal, and, if he once gets an
idea, he sticks to it, and one might as well talk to the wind as to
attempt to reason with him. I can not imagine what new scheme he has got
into his head, but I am satisfied that the yacht is in danger. What a
pity it is that that boy does not spend the time he wastes in studying
up plans for mischief, upon his books! he would soon be the best scholar
of his age in the village."
Captain Steele, as may be imagined, was not at all pleased with the
information he had received. He was afraid of Tom, and he did not
hesitate to tell his lieutenant so. He could not, of course, determine
where the threatened danger was coming from, but he was as firmly
convinced as was the executive that trouble was brewing in some quarter.
He could only order his subordinate to keep a bright lookout at all
times, especially at night.
"I'll do that," soliloquized Harry, as he returned to his vessel, "and
if Tom Newcombe comes around the upper end of this harbor with any more
Crusoe bands, he'll not escape as easily as he did before. I don't want
to see him hurt, because his father gave us that vessel, but I'll teach
him that I am tired of living in constant fear of having the yacht
destroyed and my commission revoked."
This incident happened about two weeks before the commencement of our
story, and, during that time, an event occurred that caused considerable
excitement in the village, and relieved the lieutenant of a great load
of anxiety. It was the sudden and mysterious disappearance of the
members of the Crusoe band. Tom Newcombe went up to bed, one night, as
usual, and, the next morning, he was gone; and so was his shot-gun, and
fishing-tackle, and a good portion of his clothing. Xury, Jack Spaniard,
Friday, and Will Atkins were also missing; and, what was more, nothing
had ever been seen or heard of them since their departure. They had
disappeared as completely as though they had never existed at all. The
event had been a nine-days' wonder, but now nearly every one, except the
students, had ceased to talk about it. Their curiosity had been aroused,
and they left no stone unturned in their efforts to find the means of
satisfying it. They made inquiries of every body, guessed, wondered, and
speculated, but all to no purpose; for even the talkative Tom Newcombe
had left the village without giving any one so much as a hint of his
intended movements. On the evening in question, some of the crew started
the all-absorbing topic by saying, as they had probably done twenty
times before, that they could not imagine what had become of Tom, or
what his object could have been in running away. As far as the object he
had in view was concerned, Harry also confessed ignorance; but said he
believed Tom had started with the Crusoe band for the North Pole. The
boatswain was sure that he was on his way to South America; and one of
the quartermasters thought his face was turned toward the Rocky
Mountains.
"Now, fellows, I'll tell you all about it," said Jackson, who, if he
ever forgot the Crusoe men, had only to look at his hand, which bore a
long, ragged scar from the wound made by the bayonet that had been
thrust through it: "In the first place, imagine the most impossible
enterprise in the world--something that nobody but Tom Newcombe would
ever think of attempting; in the second, make up your minds which is the
most outlandish place on the globe; then put the two together, and you
have the key to his last movement."
"I wonder if he is the leader of the expedition!" said one of the
midshipmen; "perhaps Sam Barton has turned up again."
"Impossible! he could not have lived two minutes in those waves."
"Well, we know one thing," said Harry; "and that is, we are rid of our
arch enemy, and the yacht is safe. But I would give something to know
what his new idea was."
"Quartermaster, strike eight bells," said the officer of the deck.
The movements that followed this order, showed how successful the
lieutenant had been in his efforts to establish discipline among the
noisy, fun-loving boys who composed his crew. Scarcely had the bell been
struck, when the desperate broadsword fight, that had been going on on
the forecastle for the last quarter of an hour, was brought to a close;
dumb-bells, Indian clubs, and checkerboards quickly disappeared; the
star-gazers came down out of the rigging; the quartermaster once more
put his spy-glass under his arm, and began planking the deck; and
quietness and order took the place of the confusion and noise that had
reigned supreme a moment before. The hammocks were piped, the anchor
watch set, the boatswain's whistle was heard again, followed by the
injunction, "Keep silence, fore and aft!" and the crew of the yacht was
disposed of for the night. The officers went into the cabin, and those
who were to stand watch that night soon turned in; while the others,
never forgetting the rivals on shore who were working night and day to
dislodge them, resumed their books. On the berth-deck the lights were
turned down too low to admit of study, the rules forbade conversation,
and the only thing the students could do was to tumble into their
hammocks.
"Now, then," whispered the boatswain's mate, as he settled himself
comfortably between the blankets, "I wonder if that lieutenant will
allow us to sleep in peace to-night. He hasn't called us up to put out a
fire for two weeks."
Among other things in which Harry had drilled his men until they were
almost perfect, was fire quarters; and he had rung so many alarms that
the students began to call him the "fire lieutenant." Of course he never
took them away from their studies, but he had an uncomfortable habit of
calling them up in the night. Harry sometimes pored over his books until
nearly twelve o'clock; and when every one, except himself and the
officers and men on watch was asleep, he would come out of his cabin and
ring the ship's bell as if his life depended upon it. The crew would
tumble out of their hammocks and hurry to their stations, some manning
the pump, and others getting out the hose and buckets, and all of them
growling lustily to themselves, because they knew there was not a spark
of fire on board the vessel. These false alarms, although annoying to
the students, had the effect of making them thoroughly posted in their
duties; and Harry was satisfied, that if, by any accident, his little
vessel should really catch on fire, the practice the crew had had would
enable them to save her. He afterward had reason to congratulate himself
that he had been so particular on this point.
At one o'clock, every one on board the Storm King, except the officers
of the deck, quartermaster, and the two seamen who stood the anchor
watch, was sound asleep. The night was very dark--so dark that the watch
did not see a skiff which approached the vessel, propelled by slow,
noiseless strokes. But the skiff was there, and, when it had been
brought alongside the yacht, the bow-oarsman arose to his feet, and
fastened into the fore-chains with a boat-hook, after which, a figure in
the stern sheets placed his hands upon the rail, and drew himself up
until he had obtained a view of the vessel's deck. He could not see much
on account of the darkness, but his ears told him that the presence of
himself and companions was unsuspected; and, having satisfied himself on
this point, the visitor, whoever he was, clambered carefully over the
rail, and a moment afterward was crouching on deck at the head of the
ladder which led down into the forecastle.
"What's that?" exclaimed one of the watch, suddenly interrupting the
story he was relating to his companion.
"I didn't hear any thing," replied the other.
"Well, I imagined I did. Every dark night that I stand watch, I think of
the Crusoe band."
"O, they're a hundred miles from here by this time--perhaps more. Go on
with your yarn."
The young sailor listened a moment, but as the sound which had attracted
his attention was not repeated, he resumed his story; whereupon, the
figure at the hatchway arose to his feet, and stealthily descended the
ladder. He was gone about five minutes, and then re-appeared, crawled
noiselessly across the deck, and had just placed his hands upon the
rail, when he was discovered by one of the watch.
"Hallo! Boat--ship--I mean, man--ahoy!" shouted the young tar, evidently
at a loss to determine how he ought to hail a stranger found on deck of
his vessel, under such circumstances.
Both the watch made a rush for the mysterious visitor, who disappeared
over the rail like a flash; and, by the time they reached the side, he
was in his boat, which was moving off into the darkness. But he did not
get away in time to escape recognition by the watch, both of whom stood
for an instant as if petrified, and then called out, in amazement and
alarm,
"TOM NEWCOMBE!"
"Where?" exclaimed Jackson, the officer of the deck, hurrying forward.
"In his boat there, sir, with half a dozen other fellows. He has been on
board the vessel; we caught sight of him just as he was climbing over
the rail."
The officer was thunderstruck. The presence of their evil genius at that
hour, and under such circumstances, boded no good to the yacht and her
crew, and, for a moment, Jackson stood holding fast to the rail,
imagining all sorts of terrible things. He would not have been
astonished if the waters of the harbor had suddenly opened to swallow up
the vessel and her sleeping company. He even thought he felt the deck
rise under his feet, and held his breath, expecting to hear an
explosion, and to find himself struggling in the water amid the wreck of
the Storm King. But nothing of the kind happened: the yacht remained
right side up; and if Tom Newcombe had placed a barrel of gunpowder in
her, with a slow-match attached, intending to blow the vessel and her
crew to atoms, there might yet be time to frustrate his designs.
"Quartermaster, spring that rattle!" shouted the officer, as if suddenly
awaking out of a sound sleep--"Smith and Simmonds, lower away the
jolly-boat."
Jackson ran below to report the matter to the first lieutenant; the
sailors hurried off to execute their orders; and, before Tom Newcombe
and his companions were out of sight of the yacht, they heard the rattle
calling the crew to quarters.
"Wake up, sir," cried Jackson, roughly shaking his superior officer by
the shoulder--"Tom Newcombe!"
The second lieutenant knew that the mention of that name would arouse
the executive sooner than any thing else.
"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Harry, "you don't say so! Where is he?"
"In his boat, now, and going down the harbor at the rate of ten knots an
hour. He has been on board this yacht doing some mischief, of course,
and I am expecting every instant to find myself going to the bottom. His
pirate crew is with him."
"The Crusoe band!" Harry almost gasped.
"There are several fellows with him, and I don't know who else they can
be."
"Call away the jolly-boat, and man her with an armed crew," said Harry.
"Mr. Richardson!"
"Here, sir," answered the midshipman, who had just come into the cabin
with his boots in one hand, and his coat in the other.
"Take charge of the jolly-boat, pursue those fellows, and capture them,
at all hazards, if they can be found. Mr. Jackson, stand by to get the
vessel under way immediately."
The second lieutenant sprang up the ladder, followed by the midshipman,
and, a few moments afterward, Harry heard the boat's crew scrambling
over the side, and the boatswain's whistle calling the men to their
stations.
"Am I doomed to live in constant fear of that fellow as long as I remain
at the academy?" said the first lieutenant to himself. "What could he
have wanted here? I'll have the yacht searched at once, and discover, if
I can, what he has been up to."
But the executive soon learned that it was not necessary to search the
vessel to find out what Tom Newcombe had been doing, for, just at that
moment, he was alarmed by the rapid tolling of the bell, and Jackson
burst into the cabin, pale and excited.
"The yacht is on fire, sir!" said he.
Harry, too astonished to speak, hurried on deck, and, to his
consternation, saw a dense smoke arising from the fore-hatchway. The
students did not grumble now at being called to fire-quarters, for this
was not a false alarm; the inside of the galley was a sheet of flames.