TOM IN TROUBLE.
For the first time in a good many months, Tom was willing to acknowledge
that he was a happy boy. The life he led in Sam Barton's harboring-place
exactly suited him. He had plenty to eat, no work to do, and nothing to
trouble him. By virtue of his rank, he was exempt from all camp duty;
and the only labor he had to perform during the day-time was to dispose
of his meals when Friday said they were ready. When he felt so inclined,
he took part in the conversation, and discussed with the others the best
methods of carrying out the plans they had determined upon; but he
believed the position he held warranted the display of a little dignity
on his part, and he generally kept aloof from all his companions, except
the governor, and spent the most of his time in dozing and building
air-castles. If the Storm King had been destroyed, he would have been
willing to pass the remainder of his days in the cove. That would save
him the trouble and inconvenience of a long voyage at sea, which,
reckless as he was, he was in no hurry to undertake. What if the
Sweepstakes should be caught out in a storm, like the one they had
experienced the night they made the attack on the yacht? The captain did
not like to think about this; but the question would now and then force
itself upon him, and he finally determined that, if he found himself
likely to get into trouble, he would shirk the responsibility by turning
the command of the vessel over to his mate.
On the evening of the fourteenth day after the Crusoe men had taken up
their abode in the cove, Tom lay upon the grass, gazing into the water,
and lazily fanning himself with his hat. The band had been employed,
during the day, in enlarging the cabin, and Tom had condescended to lend
a very little assistance, and was now resting after his labors. A fire
was burning brightly under the bluff, and, before it, supported upon
sticks driven into the ground, were half a dozen fine fish, which, under
the influence of the heat, were emitting an odor that would have tempted
an epicure. A coffee-pot simmered and sputtered on a bed of coals that
had been raked out on one side of the fire, and on the other stood
Friday, the cook, watching some potatoes that were roasting in the
ashes. A short distance from the fire was the table, laid for supper. It
was a little knoll, thickly covered with grass, which answered the
purpose of a tablecloth. The most prominent object upon it was a huge
piece of beech bark, which did duty as a bread-plate--only it was filled
with crackers, instead of bread; and, judging by the quantity it
contained, Friday must have thought his companions would be very hungry
after their day's work. Around it were arranged the dishes with which
each member of the band had been required to provide himself--a tin
plate and cup, and also a spoon, knife, and fork. Two more pieces of
bark lay near the fire, waiting to receive the fish and potatoes.
The outfit provided by the band for their former expedition, and which
fell into the hands of the students when they recaptured their vessel,
had been restored to the owners by the principal, and they had brought
it to the island with them. Will Atkins was now engaged in stowing it
away in the cabin, Xury was arranging the beds, and Jack Spaniard was
fixing up some brackets to receive the guns.
The governor was off reconnoitering. He had issued orders prohibiting
his men from going outside the cove in the day-time, but he himself
ascended to the upper world at least once in every two or three hours,
to see what was going on, and to satisfy himself that the farmer on
whose land the cove was situated had seen nothing to arouse his
suspicions.
"Now, then," said Friday, "supper's ready. Will Atkins, go after the
governor."
"Who made you an officer?" replied Atkins. "Go yourself."
"Now, look here," exclaimed Tom, raising himself on his elbow, and
looking indignantly at the cook, "by whose authority do you issue
commands here? There are a captain and mate in this society now, and all
orders must pass through them."
"I forgot," said Friday. "Cap'n, will you tell somebody to call the
governor?"
"Mr. Mate," drawled Tom, "be kind enough to send a man after the
governor."
"Will Atkins," said Xury, "go up an' tell the governor that if he wants
any grub he'd best be gettin' down here."
The order came from the proper authority this time, and through the
proper channels, and Atkins could not refuse to obey.
This style of passing orders had been introduced by Tom, and was what he
called the "man of war routine." He insisted that it was no more than
right that all the officers should have something to do with whatever
was going on; and, after a few objections from Sam, who did not like to
surrender any of his authority, he had carried his point. The governor
was sharp enough to see, after a little reflection, that this rule, if
strictly carried out, would establish him more firmly in his position
than ever before. By allowing his officers to show their authority on
all occasions, they would be kept good natured; and if any trouble arose
in the band, he could depend upon their assistance and support. There
were two among the Crusoe men, however, who were not at all pleased with
this state of affairs, and they were Will Atkins and Jack Spaniard. By
carrying out Tom's system they were made hewers of wood and drawers of
water to their companions; and Will Atkins, who was a turbulent fellow,
declared that he wouldn't stand it--that there would be a big fuss in
the society some day, if the officers persisted in making a servant of
him. He always obeyed orders, because he was afraid to refuse; but he
growled about it like any old sailor.
"I think this is a purty how-de-do," said he, sullenly, as he started
off to obey the mate's command. "It's 'Will Atkins, do this!' 'Will
Atkins, do that!' That lazy governor, an' Muley, an' Xury can set around
an' do nothin'; but Atkins can't have a minute's peace."
"Go on, and obey the order," said Tom, sternly. "If I hear another word
out of you, I'll report you to the governor."
This thread silenced the dissatisfied member of the Crusoe band. He
knew, by experience, that the chief had a very unpleasant way of dealing
with rebellious spirits, and fear of bodily harm kept him quiet.
By the time Friday had dished up his supper, Atkins returned with the
governor, who threw himself upon the grass at the head of the table,
while his officers seated themselves on each side of him. He passed his
cup to the cook to be filled with coffee, and, as he did so, he ran his
eye over the table, and smiled with great satisfaction.
"This is a heap better grub than I had while I lived here alone," said
he. "Friday, you know I am heavy on taters; why didn't you cook more of
'em?"
"Them's the last," was the answer.
"Then we must lay in a new supply," said Sam. "We'll go up after dark,
an' hook a bushel or so. I've been watchin' them fellers up there, fur
the last half hour; an' I notice they have left a good many piles of
taters in the field. It'll be the easiest thing in the world fur us to
get as many as we want."
The matter was settled without any further remarks. The governor's
orders had thus far been received and obeyed without comment; and so
small and uninteresting an enterprise as robbing a potato-patch was not
worth talking about. The Crusoe men had done such things so often that
they thought no more of them than they did of going fishing.
But this expedition was destined to be rather more exciting than any of
a similar kind in which they had ever engaged; and if they had only
known what was to happen before morning, and could have looked far
enough into the future to see the long string of events that was to
result from the governor's order, it is probable that they would one and
all have refused duty.
Supper over, the Crusoe men lounged on the grass, in front of the cabin,
and talked of what they had done, and what they intended to do--all
except Friday, who busied himself in clearing the table, and washing the
dishes. At sunset it was quite dark in the cove; but the governor knew
there was still plenty of light on the cliffs above, and he waited
nearly two hours more before he gave the signal for action.
"I reckon we can be movin' now," said he, at length. "I don't s'pose
there is any danger, but, of course, it will be well for us to keep our
eyes an' ears open. If them fellers up there havn't found out by this
time that there's something goin' on, it aint no fault of our'n; fur
we've made mighty free with their fruit an' vegetables durin' the last
few nights. Cap'n, see that each man is provided with a sack to put the
taters in."
Tom repeated the order to his mate, who went into the cabin, and
presently returned with an armful of bags, which he distributed among
the band. The chief then lighted his lantern, and, every thing being
ready for the start, led the way toward the cliff, the ascent of which
was regarded by the members of the band as the worst part of the
undertaking. The fissure along which the path ran, was as dark as
midnight; and the faint light which the governor's lantern threw out,
afforded them but little assistance in finding their way.
They had made the ascent so often, however, that they had become quite
familiar with the path, and there was no danger of losing their way, or
of falling over the rocks. They crossed the chasm by the rope bridge in
safety, and finally reached the summit, where the governor extinguished
his light, and stopped to reconnoiter. Every thing was still, and Sam
was satisfied that the coast was clear, although he thought it best to
give his men a few final instructions.
"There don't seem to be nothin' wrong," said he, "but, bein' an old fox,
I know it aint always best to put too much faith in appearances. We
won't go straight to the field, 'cause there may be somebody on the
watch, you know; an' if they see where we come from, they'll discover
our hidin'-place, an' then we can bid good-by to all hopes of ever
seein' our island. If they get after us, we'll scatter out an' hide from
'em--we can easy do that in the dark--an' when they're gone, we'll meet
here. But remember, fellers, we aint comin' back without them taters."
Sam, who had by this time become well acquainted with the country about
his hiding-place, once more placed himself at the head of his men, and
led them down the shore for a quarter of a mile; and after passing
through two or three fields, came up on the other side of the
potato-patch. If the farmer was on the watch, this maneuver would lead
him to believe that Sam and his band had come from the village.
The governor had no difficulty in finding the place where the farmer had
left his potatoes, and after he had ordered two of the band to act as
sentries, he set to work with the others to fill the bags.
For a wonder Tom labored as hard as the rest, and without once noticing
how sadly he was soiling his hands and clothes. He was rendered
extremely uneasy by the precautions the governor had taken to avoid
capture, and he was anxious to get the work done as soon as possible.
When his bag was filled, he tied it with a string he had brought with
him for the purpose, and was making some desperate efforts to raise it
to his shoulder, when an exclamation from one of the sentinels caused
him to drop his burden as if it had been a coal of fire.
"See there, fellers!" whispered Xury.
"Look out, men!" chimed in Will Atkins. "I hear something."
Tom looked, but could see nothing. He knew there was danger near,
however, and without waiting to see what quarter it was coming from, he
jumped over his bag of potatoes, and drew a bee-line for the beach at a
rate of speed that astonished himself. He had not made more than half a
dozen steps, when an appalling yell rang out on the air, followed by the
roar of a gun which sounded so loud that Tom, in his terror, thought it
must have been fired close to his ear.
"Halt there, you villain!" shouted a voice close behind the flying
captain of the Crusoe band.
Tom heard the order, and knew it was addressed to him, but he did not
heed it. He ran faster than ever, the sound of rapidly pursuing
footsteps lending him wings. But all his efforts were in vain. The
footsteps grew louder, and presently Tom felt a strong hand grasp his
collar. A moment afterward he found himself lying flat on his back, with
a heavy weight on his breast holding him down.