JIM BOARDS THE PIRATE
"Whither away, Brother?" questioned John Berwick, as they bent gently
and rhythmically to the oars.
"I thought we might lay alongside the _Sea Eagle_, and invite Brother
Broome to surrender," suggested Jim.
"All right, I'm with you, as I can't walk ashore," replied John Berwick.
However, instead of rowing straight in the direction of the _Sea Eagle_,
Jim bent a circuitous course around her. It was now growing towards
evening and a heavy fog was rolling in even then over the sea towards
the Golden Gate. The two comrades in a short time reached the western
shore of the bay near which the _Sea Eagle_ lay anchored.
Here they rowed slowly along, looking for some place to camp. At first
the shore was high and rocky, but after rowing for nearly a mile they
came to a small inlet where a tiny stream trickled down from a hidden
spring above in the woods. There were pines and sycamore trees both, and
altogether it was a delightful place for a camp. Jim's trained eye took
it all in at a glance.
"Here's where we haul in, John," he said.
"It looks good to me," agreed Berwick.
Indeed, it was an excellent place, well sheltered, and with good water.
The rest they had with them.
"What time are you going to make your attack, Jim, my boy?" asked
Berwick.
"I fancy any time between eleven and one would do," said Jim. "That will
give us time to get in a couple of hours' sleep at least. It's just as
well to store up a little rest. There is no telling what will happen;
when we once get started it may be a week before we get another chance."
"Correct," said Berwick; "which watch shall I take, Captain?"
"The first," said Jim, "if you don't mind."
"But I do mind," said Berwick quickly, "when I'm told."
While Jim sat watching some hours later, with everything quiet except
the gentle lapping of the water along the rocky shore, his mind reverted
to the incidents of the past few hours, but quickly changed to the
distant scene of his home.
"I wish I had Jo and Tom with me, and Juarez, too; it looks to me as
though there was going to be a change of scene soon, and then we will
need 'em by way of reënforcements." He brooded thus to himself over his
home folks and the chances of the future until it was time for them to
reconnoiter the enemy if nothing else was done. "I have given John
three-quarters of an hour longer than he expected," he said as he looked
at his watch. "It is now a quarter of twelve."
Berwick responded promptly to the call of time.
"Jove!" he said, "I don't see how you can pick up the _Sea Eagle_ or
anything else in such thick weather."
"It would not be easy if we struck out direct from this inlet," replied
Jim, "but I'm going to keep along the shore to a point that I made a
note of coming in, and then row direct out; we can't lose her."
They did accordingly, but they had to row very slowly, so that Jim could
be able to make out his landmark.
"There it is," he said. "See, here is a point of rock that juts out;
there is no mistaking it."
"What is your plan?" asked the engineer.
"There is only one thing to do," replied Jim; "we are not taking this
exercise for our health. We will drop along the _Sea Eagle_, board her,
find where the señorita is, and row her ashore."
"Are you sure she is on the yacht?" queried Berwick.
"Nowhere else," replied Jim stoutly. "You don't suppose that old Broome
would leave her in the castle after the alarm we raised. The reason he
didn't search for us around the premises was because he had gone off to
hide on the _Sea Eagle_."
Nothing more was said, and they rowed slowly from the point of departure
until they saw the faint loom of the _Sea Eagle_ through the night and
fog. There was a light astern and two forward, one on the starboard and
the other on the port, while a fourth shed a dim light from the
masthead.
There was no sound, whatever, and no figure in sight, which was not
remarkable, considering you could see no distance whatever on account of
the thick fog, but Jim was seaman enough to know that there was sure to
be someone on the bridge, and a watch forward. Berwick brought the boat
gently along the side near the stern rail and Jim was aboard in a jiffy.
Then the engineer pushed off for a few feet where he and the black boat
could not be seen, and waited in ambush for what might happen. He
believed that Jim stood a good chance to rescue the señorita, a much
better chance, in fact, than when she was held captive in the castle.
Once get her into the boat and they, too, would make sure of her safety.
Jim felt a thrill as he once more set foot on the well-known deck. He
felt strong enough to take her back single-handed, and what would he not
have given to be on the bridge again, with Jo and the rest of the old
crew on deck, and the _Sea Eagle_ pushing her nose out through the
Golden Gate, heading for the enchanted regions of the tropic seas.
But Jim took only a moment for such romancing. There was grim and hard
work ahead before he could ever be master of his own boat again. He knew
the ship as a hand does a glove, and in this there was a great
advantage. He cautiously tried the doors of the staterooms on the upper
deck. In one he made out the lean figure of the second mate in his bunk,
sound asleep. At that moment he saw the door of the captain's cabin
open. Jim glided aft and crouched low near the capstan, where he was
hard to be distinguished from a coil of rope.
He saw the squat figure of Captain Broome with the long, swinging,
gorilla-like arms revealed in the light which shone from the interior of
the cabin, and then he slammed the door and strolled forward towards
the bridge. Jim held his breath, hoping he would not come his way.
When the old pirate had disappeared, Jim completed his search of the
deck staterooms, but the señorita was in none of them. The only thing
that remained for Jim was to search the rooms leading from the main
saloon below. He rather mistrusted going down there, and he had most
sincerely hoped that the girl would be in one of the deck rooms, then
his task would have been comparatively easy, but it seemed as if luck
was breaking against him.
He went cautiously but quickly along the deck until he reached the
stairway leading down into the cabin. There was the large lamp lit in
the saloon, but turned very low. As he cautiously descended into the
saloon his heart went into his throat at the sight of the gaunt woman
with the red hair who had been the señorita's jailer in the castle. She
was apparently asleep on one of the divans, but Jim would have much
rather seen anyone else on guard than this redoubtable woman whose
vigilance had been his undoing before. It might have been possible to
have outwitted or defeated a man, but he really was in some awe of this
Amazon.
The first thing for Jim to do was to determine which of the four cabins
opening off the saloon was the prison of the señorita. He could not go
from one to the other opening the doors, for the woman on guard would be
sure to hear, nor could he say after the manner of children, "My mother
told me to take this one."
It was like the suitor of Portia in the "Merchant of Venice," who was
forced to choose his fate from one of three chests with misleading
mottoes on them. But there was no time to lose. Should he take a chance?
There seemed no other way. However, Jim was an experienced scout, as the
reader well knows, and his skill could be put to use inside of walls as
well as out on the desert or in the pathless mountains, where he might
be searching for some obscure trail.
He crawled over the heavily carpeted floor on his hands and knees to the
first door, but he found no trace to guide him. The second seemed to
reward his scrutiny, for the nap of the rug showed the imprint of feet
and the brass knob of the door was somewhat tarnished.
At that moment he heard the sound of heavy feet upon the stairway. He
knew that tread; he had heard it before. There was no hiding-place
except under the hanging of the heavy tablecloth, and with a quiet
celerity, Jim slid under its protection just as the woman stirred from
the divan, and then the captain's heavy, growling voice made itself
heard as he came down into the saloon.
"I'm going to pull anchor out of here to-morrow, Ann," said the skipper;
"it's jest about time."
"What hour, Brother?" asked the woman.
This startled Jim, who had not guessed that this woman was any relation
of the redoubtable Bill Broome, and that so human a word as "Brother"
could be applied to the old pirate had never entered his head. This
rawboned woman was quite the equal of her brother, and her life had
brought out that hardness and cruelty that is latent only too often in
the New England character.
To her question the captain replied, "Not later than four if we are to
get clear. I'm going into Frisco on a little business first."
"Do we take the gal?" questioned the woman, following his thought in
some obscure way.
"Then she is here," mused Jim.
"Part way, anyhow," he rumbled in his harsh voice. "Every day of bother
getting rid of her brings up her price."
Jim felt the hot blood of rage warm the roots of his hair. The
cold-blooded cruelty and calculation of it made him long to get hold of
the old codger. Perhaps he would in a moment.
"Git me something to eat, Ann, old gal," he said. "I'd better begin to
lay in ballast for to-morrow."
The captain took his seat at the table, and put his feet squarely on the
unsuspected Jim. Then came the explosion.
"By tarnation thunder, there's somebody under thar," he exclaimed,
rising to his feet.
Jim crawled from under as quick as he could, and with a sense of sullen
fury he saw the game was up for a second time. If he had cared to escape
without striking a blow he did not have a chance. As he emerged the
captain was on his back with all the ferocity of a hyena.
"It's that blasted young beggar again," he yelled. "We'll do him good
this time."