TOM HAS ANOTHER IDEA.
"Yes, sir," repeated the governor of the Crusoe band, in a tone of great
satisfaction, "we're off fur our island at last. Them spooneys will
never trouble you any more, cap'n. You're safe from Johnny Harding, an'
I'm safe from Mr. Grimes, Bobby Jennings, an' all the rest of 'em.
Hurrah fur us!"
Tom stood leaning over the schooner's rail, watching the Storm King,
which was rapidly fading from his view, and thinking, not of Johnny
Harding, but of the failure of his grand idea. He would not have been
greatly disappointed if he had known that he should never see Crusoe's
island. He had, of course, expected that when he should be comfortably
settled in some remote corner of the world, far away from all the
troubles and vexations that had made his life in Newport so miserable,
he would realize his idea of supreme felicity; but one element in his
happiness was to be the satisfaction of knowing that he had carried out
his threat, and "squared yards" with every body; that he had destroyed
the Storm King; that he had rendered the naval commission, in which
Harry Green took so much pride and delight, perfectly useless to him,
and that he had taken ample revenge upon his father and upon the
principal of the military academy. With such thoughts as these to
console him, Tom imagined that he would be perfectly content to pass the
remainder of his days on some desert island, even in the company of such
uncongenial fellows as Sam Barton and his men; but now he knew that
could not be. His splendid scheme had failed. The yacht was still right
side up, as swift and as handsome as ever, and as sound as a dollar, in
spite of the charred and smoked wood-work in her galley. That was enough
to banish all Tom's hopes of happiness. He could not enjoy a moment's
peace of mind as long as the Storm King remained above water. He was a
disappointed boy--an unlucky, ill-used, and unappreciated boy,
too--whose life must henceforth be a desert and a blank. No more sport,
no more enjoyment for him, and all because of that one unkind act of his
father's.
This was the way the captain of the Crusoe band reasoned with himself as
he leaned over the rail, gazing through the darkness toward the spot
where he had last seen the yacht, and that was the way he would have
told his story to any stranger who he thought would sympathize with him;
but if such sensible fellows as Johnny Harding, Harry Green, and Bill
Steele had been consulted, they would have shown Tom up in a different
kind of light altogether. They would have cleared Mr. Newcombe, and
placed all the blame right where it belonged--upon Tom's own shoulders.
They would have described the home and surroundings of this "Boy of Bad
Habits"--this "ROLLING STONE"--who had gone from one thing to another in
search of that which none of us find in this world--freedom from care
and trouble--and would have proved that he ought to have been one of the
happiest boys in Newport. They would have told that his sole object in
life had been to avoid every thing that looked like work, and to
establish himself in some easy, pleasant business, that would run along
smoothly, without the least exertion on his part. They would have
described him as a boy utterly wanting in firmness of purpose, except
when he got one of his grand ideas into his head, and then he was as
unreasonable and obstinate as a mule. They would have said that his
numerous failures had not taught him wisdom, but had made him more
determined; that he would not listen to any one's advice, and that he
clung with bull-dog tenacity to his favorite belief that "nobody could
teach him." And they would have come, at last, to the inevitable
consequences of such a life as Tom had been leading, and told how he had
been going down hill all this while, until he had at last got so low
that no boy who had the least respect for himself could associate with
him; that he was the leader of a band of rascals, the companion of
burglars, a fugitive from justice, and one of the most miserable and
despised of human beings. Tom could not help acknowledging to himself
that such was his condition, but he clung to the idea that it was not
his fault. His father was responsible for it all.
"If he had only given me that yacht, as he ought to have done," Tom had
said to himself twenty times that night, "things would have been very
different. I could have paid him back his four hundred dollars in a week
or two, and after that every cent I earned would have been clear profit.
But now--just look at me! I won't stand no such treatment from any body,
and that's all about it."
"What's the row now, cap'n?" asked the governor.
"O, I was thinking about that yacht," drawled Tom.
"And, talkin' about her, too," returned Sam; "I heard what you said.
This is a hard world, Tommy, that's a fact. The lucky ones go up, an'
the onlucky ones go down. Life's nothing but luck, nohow."
"Well, if that's the case," whined Tom, "what is the use of a fellow's
exerting himself at all? If it is his lot to go ahead in the world, he
will, and if it isn't, he won't, and all the working and planning he can
do will not better his condition in the least."
"Exactly! Sartinly! That's just my way of thinkin' to a dot; an' every
thing goes to prove that I am right. Now, me an' you were born to be
poor--to go down hill; an' your father was born to be rich--to go up
hill. Haven't you tried hard to be somebody?"
"O, now, yes I have!"
"I know it. I never in my life saw a feller that tried harder, an'
what's the reason you didn't succeed? 'Cause you are onlucky. It aint
your lot to go up hill. You might work an' scheme, an' try your level
best, till you are as old as your grandfather, but it wouldn't do you no
arthly good, whatsomever. Now, just look at your father! He's one of the
lucky ones. Every thing he touches turns to money to onct. He needn't do
no work if he don't want to. He can set back on his easy chair an' read
his paper, an' the cash comes pourin' in so fast that he has to hire a
man to take care of it. Now, I ask, Why is it? It's his lot; that's the
reason, an' he aint no better'n I be, neither. Things aint fixed right,
nohow, 'cordin' to my way of thinkin'."
Tom was not overburdened with common sense, but he was not foolish
enough to believe in Sam Barton's doctrine. He knew that it is the
industrious, prudent, and persevering who go up hill, and the lazy and
worthless who go down. He knew that his father had made many a long
voyage as a common sailor, and a good many more as captain, and worked
hard for years with hand and brain before he could "set back in his easy
chair" and read his newspaper during business hours. But he was quite
ready to agree with the governor when he said that "things were not
fixed right" in this world. Tom was quite sure they were fixed wrong. He
had tried so hard, and had been so certain of success! If his plans had
not all failed so miserably, he would have been a happy and prosperous
trader, and the owner of the finest little sloop about the village,
instead of a captain in the Crusoe band. He could not see that he had
made any mistakes in refusing to listen to the advice so often given
him. The blame rested entirely with his father.
Tom was a very unhappy boy, and the only consolation he could find was
in the thought that, by this nights work, he was severely punishing his
father. Mr. Newcombe would, of course, hear all the particulars of the
robbery, and of the attempted destruction of the yacht, and then he
would regret that he had not paid more attention to his son's wishes.
But it would be too late. The ill-used one would be miles at sea before
morning, and he would never again return to Newport as long as he lived.
Tom told himself that he was resolved upon that; but, after all, he did
go back, and perhaps we shall see how he looked when he got there.
All this while the schooner had been bounding along the south shore of
the island, headed toward the narrows. Xury was still at the wheel, Tom
and the governor were standing at the head of the companion-ladder, the
rest of the Crusoe men were gathered on the forecastle, and the robbers
were leaning over the rail in the waist, looking down into the water,
and conversing in low tones. The governor had been so busy since they
came on board the schooner that he had scarcely spoken to them, but now
he left Tom (who had again fallen into one of his meditative moods) to
scrape an acquaintance with them. The burglars were so deeply engrossed
in discussing their affairs that they did not hear the sound of Sam's
footsteps, and he approached within a few feet of them without being
discovered. So close was he to them, indeed, that he could catch every
word of their conversation. He had not thought of playing the part of
eaves-dropper, but he found that they were talking about the thousand
dollars they had promised to pay the Crusoe men for taking them to sea,
and something that was said brought Sam to a stand-still.
"You were not in earnest when you made that offer, were you?" he heard
one of the robbers ask.
"Yes, I was. I thought there were some men in the party, and that we
could afford to pay them well for passage on board their vessel; but I
see they are all boys, and we can give them the money or not, just as we
please."
"It would be a foolish piece of business to throw away a thousand
dollars, after coming so far, and working so hard for it."
"I know that, and I don't intend to do it. They seem to understand
managing a vessel pretty well, and they may succeed in taking us to a
place of safety. If they do, we'll step ashore and let them whistle for
their money."
"But won't they make a fuss?"
"Who cares if they do? Haven't we both got revolvers?"
"Well, now, if this yere don't beat all the world," soliloquized the
governor, who could scarcely believe that he had heard aright. He stood
for a moment as motionless as if he had been nailed to the deck, looking
the very picture of astonishment and alarm; then he shook his head
threateningly, moved quietly across to the other side, and settled into
a comfortable position, to think the matter over.
Since the robbers made him that offer, the thousand dollars had never
once been out of his mind. In his eyes it was an immense fortune, and he
would have been willing to do almost any thing in his power to obtain
possession of it. He already regarded the money as his own, and he had
laid his plans for the disposal of it. He would not trust it in the
hands of the treasurer of the band, but would take charge of it himself.
He would invest a portion of it in weapons, fishing-tackle, clothing,
powder, shot, and other articles they needed to complete their outfit,
and with the remainder he would purchase provisions. He had never
dreamed that the burglars would refuse to live up to their promise, but
he had heard enough of their conversation to satisfy him that they would
bear watching. Sam thought they were the meanest men he had ever heard
of.
"I won't give up the money," said the governor, striking his fist upon
the rail to give emphasis to his words; "that's just all about it. They
promised to give it to me if I would take them out to sea, and they
sha'n't go off this vessel till I have it in my hands. If they won't
stick to their bargain, like men had oughter do, I must find some way to
make 'em. Step this way a minute, skipper. What do you think them two
bugglars are doin'?" he added, in a scarcely audible whisper, glancing
toward his passengers, who were still leaning over the rail. "They're
layin' their plans to swindle us out of our money!"
"No!" exclaimed Tom, who had also built his hopes high upon that
thousand dollars, and could not bear the thought of losing it.
"It's a fact. I heard them talkin' about it."
"O, now, did any body ever hear of such luck?" drawled the captain,
stamping his foot impatiently upon the deck, and twisting his mouth on
one side as if he had half a mind to cry. "I don't see how I can stand
another disappointment to-night. That money would have bought so many
things we really need! What did they say, Sam?"
The governor repeated the conversation he had overheard as nearly as he
could recall it, and when he had finished his story Tom thrust his hands
into his pockets and thoughtfully paced the deck. Sam watched him
closely, and when he saw the captain's face brighten up, and the scowl
disappear from his forehead, his hopes rose again. "What is it,
skipper?" he asked.
"I've got another idea," replied Tom, excitedly. "We want that money,
don't we?"
"Of course we do, an' we're bound to have it, if we can get it. There
ain't a single dollar in the treasury. I'd like to punish them fellers,
too, fur bein' so mean as to think of cheatin' us."
"Well, we can do it," said Tom, mysteriously. "Sam," and here he
approached the governor, and placed his lips close to his ear--"I can't
see the use of being satisfied with a thousand dollars when we can just
as well have more."
"More!" echoed the governor; "more'n a thousand dollars?"
"Don't talk so loud. We've got just as much right to the money in the
valise as those robbers have; don't you think so?"
"I reckon I do. It don't belong to nary one of us."
"Well, let's take it."
"What! All of it--the whole five thousand dollars?"
"Yes, every cent of it."
The governor staggered back against the rail and looked at Tom without
speaking. He had, by this time, become well acquainted with the captain,
and when the latter declared that he had another idea, Sam was prepared
to listen to something desperate, such as arming the band with the empty
shot-guns, and demanding the passage money at their muzzles; but he had
not dreamed that Tom would think seriously of attempting to deprive the
burglars of their ill-gotten gains.
"If you want to punish them," continued the skipper, "I don't know any
better way."
"Nor me, neither," returned Sam. "But how can we do it? that's the
question. We're only boys, an' they're men an' carry revolvers. I wish
we had a few loads fur our guns."
"Just leave this thing to me, governor," replied Tom. "I can think it
over in half an hour, and then I'll let you know what I have decided to
do. You had better tell the other fellows what has been going on, and
ask them what they think of it."
As Tom said this he once more buried his hands in his pockets and began
pacing the deck, and Sam ran off to repeat to the rest of the band the
conversation he had overheard between the burglars, and to tell them
what he and the captain had determined upon. The Crusoe men listened
attentively, and it is hard to tell whether they were the more indignant
at their passengers, or amazed at the audacity of their skipper. They
spoke of the revolvers, and declared that, rather than face them, they
would give up the thousand dollars.
"O, we aint goin' to fight the bugglars," said Sam, quickly. "Tommy an'
me aint so foolish as to believe that six boys are a match fur two men
with loaded pistols in their pockets. We're goin' to fool 'em, somehow.
We'll either get the revolvers away from 'em, or study up a plan to get
hold of the valise, without puttin' ourselves in the way of the shootin'
irons. The matter is in the cap'n's hands, an' he is thinkin' it over
now. We'll larn them fellers a thing or two before we are done with
'em."
The governor left his men to talk the matter over at their leisure, and
walked toward the robbers, who had brought their consultation to a
close, and seemed to be awaiting an opportunity to speak to him. "Look
here, boy," said one of them, as Sam came up, "who are you, and where
are you going?"
"Well, mister," replied the governor, "it's a long story, but, if you
want to hear it, I reckon I can tell it to you."
The passengers declared their willingness to listen, and Sam proceeded
to give them a complete history of the Crusoe band from the day it was
organized down to the time he met the robbers at Mr. Henry's store,
describing their adventures in glowing language, and dwelling, with a
good deal of pride, upon the exploits of this particular night. The men
were no less astonished than every one else had been who had heard the
story, and Sam could see that they were uneasy, too.
"So you really set fire to a vessel before you left the harbor, did
you?" asked one.
"Sartin. We might as well have let it alone, howsomever, fur her crew
put out the fire before it had a chance to do any damage, an' she is
after us now. But that needn't scare you none, fur we are leavin' her
behind fast."
"That makes no difference," replied the robber. "If she can't catch you,
there are plenty of other vessels that can do it. You'll have the whole
town after you before long, and we are in danger as long as we remain
with you. We want you to set us ashore at once."
"How about our money?" asked Sam.
"What money?"
"Why, the thousand dollars you promised to pay us fur takin' you out to
sea."
"O, you haven't earned that yet. We told you that you should have it
when you had carried us safely out of sight of Newport. That's
something you can't do, and so you need not expect to receive the money.
We can't give it to you for nothing, you know."
"Well, if this yere aint the very meanest piece of business I ever heard
of," muttered the governor, as he turned on his heel and left the
robbers. "But they aint by no means so smart as they think they are.
We'll larn 'em how to cheat us. What's the trouble now?"
This question was addressed to the skipper, who was running about the
deck in a high state of excitement, having just discovered the Storm
King coming up the narrows. Although Tom was very much interested in his
plot against the robbers, he had not forgotten the responsibilities
resting upon him, and he had kept a bright lookout for their pursuers.
He knew the yacht had gone down the other side of the island, and he was
well aware of the fact that he ran some risk of being cut off, but he
had great confidence in the speed of his vessel, and held on his course,
hoping to beat the sloop in the race, and to pass through the narrows
before she came in sight. But in this he was disappointed. The Storm
King was directly in his path and coming toward him at a rate of speed
that made the skipper of the pirate craft extremely nervous.
"I say, Tommy," cried Sam, as soon as he had recovered from his
surprise, "there's them spooneys again."
"O, now, am I blind?" drawled the captain. "Don't I see them as plainly
as you do?"
"But how does it come that they are in front of us? That's what I want
to know. I thought they were a mile behind by this time. We can make up
our minds for a fight now, sartin."
"Why, they are boys," exclaimed one of the robbers. "We have nothing to
fear from them."
"Now, don't you fool yourself," replied the governor. "If they are boys,
there's lots of 'em, and they've got muskets, pikes, an' cutlasses, an'
they know how to use 'em, too. You'd better be gettin' them shootin'
irons of your'n ready."
For a few minutes there was a great commotion on the deck of the
Sweepstakes. The captain's orders were promptly obeyed, but the schooner
came about very slowly, while the Storm King continued to approach at
the top of her speed, and the governor could see that Harry was making
preparations to come to close quarters. While the little vessels were
rushing through the water, side by side, and so close together that an
active boy could almost jump from one to the other, the excitement on
board the Sweepstakes was intense, and it was increased when the yacht
began to fall off and swing toward the schooner. The Crusoe men had no
desire to face cold steel in the hands of twenty enraged students.
"All hands repel boarders," shouted the captain of the pirate craft,
flourishing his handspike about his head. "Crowd her, Xury. Jack
Spaniard, get an ax and stand by to cut us loose if they try to lash the
yacht fast to us."
But we know that Harry did not succeed in his attempt to lay his vessel
alongside the pirate. Her superior sailing qualities enabled her to
escape, and by the time the yacht was ready to fill away in pursuit, she
was almost out of sight in the darkness. There was no exultation on the
part of the officers of the Crusoe band, however. They had escaped from
one danger, but they knew that there were others close at hand. It had
been their desire to get into deep water with the least possible delay,
but the yacht had sadly interfered with their plans. The Sweepstakes was
fairly blockaded.
"I wish that sloop was at the bottom of the ocean," exclaimed Tom. "If
we don't look out, Harry Green will get the better of us yet."
"Don't you think we could run by her?" asked the governor, anxiously.
"No, indeed. The schooner is very swift, but she couldn't do that. We
must go back to our harboring-place. It isn't safe to go around the
island again, for those tugs have raised steam by this time, and,
whatever we do, we must keep away from them. Perhaps if we run into the
cove we can give Harry Green the slip. He will not know where we are,
and if he goes off to hunt us up, we'll come out and start for our
island again."
The governor did not like this plan. The cove was too near the village
to be a safe hiding-place now, and as soon as the events of the night
became generally known the harbor would be covered with vessels and
tugs. But he could see no other way of escape, and he finally went aft,
and took his place at the wheel. The passengers stood in the waist,
holding fast to the money, and watching all that was going on; but they
had nothing to say until they heard the roar of the breakers, and
discovered that the schooner was headed directly toward them. Then they
wanted to know where the captain was going, and what he intended to do,
but the reply they received did not convey to them the desired
information. Tom could not forget that they had laid their plans to
cheat the Crusoe band, and he thought that men who could go back from
their word, as these intended to do, were not worth noticing. "You will
please attend to your own business," said he.
"But this is our business, captain," protested one of the passengers.
"We don't want to be wrecked."
"Well, if you are afraid, you can get out and go afoot," said Tom. "I am
master of this vessel, and if you will keep quiet, you will find out
that I know what I am doing."
But the robbers' actions indicated that they did not feel disposed to
keep quiet. They looked at the shoals, whispered together for a moment,
and then one of them thrust his hand into his pocket, and, approaching
Tom, said, savagely:
"Look here! We are not going in among those rocks. If you want to keep
out of trouble--"
Just at that moment the Sweepstakes dashed into the channel that ran
between the shoals and the bluffs on the island, and the burglar forgot
what he was about to say to Tom, and thought only of self-preservation.
They both rushed frantically to the side, and while one of them held
fast to the rail with one hand, and to the valise with the other, his
companion hurriedly divested himself of his pea-jacket, and kicked off
his boots, in preparation for his battle with the waves, which he seemed
to believe was not far distant. The governor was uneasy also. He had
never before attempted to take so large a vessel as the Sweepstakes
through the channel, and he was by no means certain as to the result of
his undertaking. But luck was still in his favor, and, after being
tossed about on the angry waves for ten minutes--it seemed much longer
to the trembling and excited Crusoe men--the schooner glided swiftly
between the rocks at the entrance of the cove, and ran her bowsprit
among the bushes that grew on the bank in front of the cabin. And while
Harry Green and his crew were wondering at her mysterious disappearance,
and telling one another that they had been pursuing a phantom, she lay
snug and safe in the cove, and none the worse for her rough passage
across the shoals.
"Well, I done it, didn't I?" exclaimed the governor, triumphantly. "We're
safe from Harry Green now, an' if it wasn't fur the fuss we had with
them farmers, we could stay here fur a year, an' nobody would be the
wiser fur it. I'll go an' see how Jed is gettin' along."
Sam jumped ashore and ran toward the cabin, and Tom, after he had seen
the schooner made fast to the bank, turned to the robbers and asked:
"What do you think of it now?"
"We think we have seen quite enough of you Crusoe men," was the reply.
"We shall leave you. You can go your way and we'll go ours."
"You'll talk to the governor before you go, won't you?"
"The governor! What do we want to talk to him about?"
"Why, about that money--the thousand dollars, you know."
"Guess not," answered one of the robbers, with a laugh. "Good-by,
captain."
"You are not gone yet," said Tom, to himself. "If I know any thing you
will be glad to come to terms before you are ten minutes older." He
waited until the burglars were out of sight, and then, calling his crew
about him, continued: "Those fellows are trying to cheat us out of their
passage money. They can't find their way out of the cove without a
guide, and if they ask any information of you, send them to me or to the
governor. If one of you says a word to them about that path, we'll tie
you hand and foot, and leave you here on the island. We'll show them
that we are quite as smart as they are."
At this moment the governor came running from the cabin, breathless and
excited, and, clambering over the rail, stormed up and down the deck,
swinging his arms about his head like the shafts of a wind-mill.
"Fellers," he shouted, "we're done fur now. Our cake's all dough. Jed's
gone!"
"Gone!" echoed all the Crusoe men, in concert.
"Yes, gone--sloped--mizzled--cleared out--and I can't find hide nor hair
of him. We'll have all them farmers down on us now."
"Well, I wonder if any living man ever heard of such luck!" drawled Tom.
"Our jig is danced at last," snarled Will Atkins. "I knew all the whole
time that we'd never see our island."
There was great excitement among the Crusoe men.