"En Route" for Europe
It was three weeks after the affair of the copper mine and the runaway
German, and of the murder of Charlie by this unscrupulous agent of the
Kaiser, that Jim and Larry and the juvenile English Bill--William John
Harkness--made definite plans for their departure.
"Yer see," said Larry, as he stood, hands thrust deep into the
capacious pockets of his trousers, his head tilted forward, and his cap
over his brows, "yer see, young feller, it ain't been possible before
to get a move on. There's been--there's been things to do," he said
rather lamely, a little diffidently.
"Huh!" Jim merely nodded and looked a little askance at Bill, who, like
many a youngster, coloured as his deeper feelings were stirred.
"Yep," he blurted out a minute later, though the two of them saw him
gulp. "Yep," he repeated, aping the speech of Larry; for Larry and Jim
seemed to this young English lad personalities to be envied, admired,
and copied. "There's been things! The burial of Father, for instance,
the winding up of affairs."
"Aye," grunted Larry, "the winding up of affairs, and yours have been
important, Bill."
Jim nodded, and again the young fellow beside them flushed. Indeed,
the winding up of his personal affairs had been to him, if not to the
others, quite a big concern, which, coming very fortunately for him
immediately after the death and burial of a father whom he admired and
respected and cared for deeply, had helped to distract his grief from
the loss he had suffered.
Curiously enough, it turned out that Charlie, the bar tender, was by no
means bereft of this world's goods. It should be noted that bar tending
in America is a highly-thought-of occupation, controlled by its own
particular Union, demanding high wages, and the best of surroundings
and conditions. Add to this that Charlie, popular with all with whom he
came in contact, was a man possessed of no small intellect, and one can
gather good reasons for his becoming affluent.
"A man can work quite contented at what seems a subordinate job, young
Will," he told his only son soon after he had joined him from England.
"I don't mind saying I could give up this work to-morrow if need be,
and live perhaps at ease like what's sometimes called a 'gentleman'
back in England. But I ain't the one for living at ease. Work's what
I like, and plenty of it, so long as it's congenial; and here it's
that all the time. And mark you this, lad, I'm a teetotaller, though
I do serve drinks over a bar, often enough to rude miners. But I was
sayin', a chap don't need to leave his work if he likes it, and working
behind a bar don't prevent me from making a way in other directions.
There's mining shares to be bought by the chap that's saved; and I've
bought 'em. If yer mother had lived, she could have gone back to
England and aped the lady. There's been ranch shares to buy, and them
too I've taken a liking to, and done well with 'em. Think it out, me
boy, a man thrifty and careful, and who works steadily most every day
and most hours of the day, will have dollars to spare to put into work
that other men are doing; and so it goes on till one day he turns round
and finds that he's got quite a tidy sum tucked away to cover the time
when he's too old for working."
It was that "tidy sum" that Larry referred to when he said that English
Bill had had "affairs" to clear up, and it was those "affairs" and the
attorney to whom Jim introduced him that distracted Bill's attention
from the loss he had suffered, taking his mind from the gruesome act
of that rascally German and forcing him to concentrate on other more
humane affairs. Now everything was cleared up, the estate of the
murdered Charles was either sold already or being sold, the money was
banked, and there was no longer any need for Bill to be in attendance.
As for Jim, he was satisfied that Dan was progressing, slowly, perhaps,
but surely.
"Though he won't be fit for months yet," the doctor told him. "As it
is, he's had as narrow an escape as you could imagine, and it'll be
months before he's able to run about, which means that it will be
months before he finds his way to France to take part in smashing that
villain of a Kaiser. Aye, villain!" he cried, bringing a fist down with
a bang on the edge of the operating-table. "D'you think we over here
don't know? Haven't I friends, American doctors, that have been over in
England these months past, who joined up to help the British Medical
Service? Haven't they been in France? Aren't there friends of mine who
have been working for months in the French hospitals? And what's their
tale?"
If Jim had waited to hear the whole tale--for the doctor was
notoriously garrulous--he would have heard much that he had already
read, and would certainly have gathered some new information: news of
shattered villages, of smashed châteaux, of a country ravaged wherever
the Hun could reach it, of the Cathedral of Reims levelled almost, of
poisoned gas projected at French and British, of dastardly acts in all
directions, of the bombing of towns and villages, and the slaughtering
of women and innocents. But Jim knew a lot about it himself. It had not
required the dastardly act of that German who murdered Charlie to rouse
him to a state of indignation, to make him swear to leave for France
at the earliest possible opportunity. He had read of the ravaging of
Belgium; he too knew something of the diabolical acts of the Germans
to their British and French prisoners. Besides, it did not want a
very wise man to realize that the German was no ordinary combatant. He
had not hesitated to break every rule of warfare. Was not one of his
infractions of the general usages his new, widely proclaimed intention
to torpedo and submarine every ship afloat, whether it carried women
and children, or whether only merchandise?
Jim knew his own mind, like thousands and thousands of other Americans.
He had only waited the word of the President of the United States.
That word was spoken, and nothing now could hold him back, after the
personal experience he had so recently met with.
"Guess we can board the train to-morrow," said Larry, pushing his head
a little farther forward and looking at Bill in such a truculent way
that one would have thought that he meant to be pugnacious.
"Yep--the 5.45 out," came the answer. "Bags packed; got some dollars in
my pocket, with a draft on a bank at Noo York."
"And then?" asked Jim, for, though the three had made up their minds to
leave for France together, they had not yet discussed the details of
their journey. It didn't seem to matter, in fact, so long as they did
reach France, and at the earliest possible moment.
"And then?"
"Oh, and then? Yep," said Larry, opening his lips, shutting his eyes,
and then grinning inanely at the two of them.
"Yep," he repeated, and looked hard at Jim.
"Yep," said Bill, looking in the same direction.
"And then--oh!--and then," said Jim, scratching his head, "well, let's
get there," he added in the most practical voice. "The train will take
us there without any bother, and once on the spot we'll be nearer the
coast--on the water, as you might say--and could really get a move on
about sailing."
See them then on the cars _en route_ from Salt Lake City, via the
Canyon, to New York, where, in the course of four days, they put in an
appearance.
"First thing is to fix up quarters," said Larry as he jingled a few
cents in his pockets. "Time was when I come to Noo York and gone to the
best hotel. That was in good times, Jim, when I was out for a holiday
and didn't mind spending. But this is business; we're on a different
jaunt altogether now. Say now, we'll make right down for the docks."
Taking their "grips" (hand-bags) with them--for, like many an American,
the three travelled very light, and (porters not being in evidence
at the stations as they are in England) were therefore not in any
difficulty--they found their way to the cars (tram-cars) which plough
in all directions through the old and new portions of this premier city
of America, where once the Dutch held play, and where in their turn
the British dispossessed them. Presently they were down in the docking
area, with warehouses about them, the masts of huge ships projecting
into the air--amongst them not a few which were German. Larry jerked a
somewhat dirty thumb in that direction.
"There's the _Vaterland_ and what-not yonder," he grinned. "Ships nigh
thirty or more thousand tons, what the Kaiser built to beat creation on
the water. Guess they'll be American soon, if they ain't already."
"Not yet," replied the critical Jim, "though in effect they do belong
to the country. I was reading in the news last night that Uncle Sam
has put a guard upon each of the ships belonging to Germany, and that
the crews which have lived on them all these months since the war
began in Europe have been sent ashore. Pity is that in the meanwhile
they've damaged the engines, though our workmen will soon make that
good. And--who knows?--in a few months' time they'll be taking American
soldiers to France to teach the Kaiser his lesson."
To Larry and Jim the sights they saw all along the waterside were
novel, for, though Larry had been to New York before, and indeed had
travelled quite a considerable amount in America, the water-side had
never attracted him, but now that he was likely to embark for France,
ships and all that passed on the ocean were a source of interest to
him. To English Bill--young Bill as they sometimes called him--the
sight was a common one.
"There'll be ships and ships going across," he told his two companions.
"Store-ships filled with food, some for the Belgians, who are nigh
starving, other store-ships with food for Britain, because, you see,
being an island with a big population, she cannot very well feed them
all. Besides, as folks told me before I came out, she has these many
years devoted herself to manufacturing all sorts of articles. She's
allowed her land to go under grass, and hasn't been growing the crops
that once she used to produce. There's the Argentina, there's America,
there are the wide wheatfields of Canada to supply her."
"Or were," Jim said laconically, "or were, young Bill."
"Aye," agreed Larry, with a puff of the lips, "and will be yet, Jim.
You are thinking of submarines. Well, it'll take all the submarines
that the Kaiser's got, and a heap more, to keep America from sending
food to our British allies. But you was talkin' about ships, Bill. What
then?"
"There's others full of ammunition--ammunition made in American
factories--going over to be fired by British and French guns. There'll
be steamers and sailing vessels. Seems to me that, as not one of us
three knows one end of a ship from the other, we'd better keep away
from sailing vessels. There would be jobs, perhaps, aboard one of the
steamers, and we might manage to get taken on."
"You! Take you on!" said a huge upstanding figure with a ruddy face,
whose curly locks protruded from beneath the blue sailor cap he was
wearing. "You!" he laughed, almost scornfully, and yet with a kindly
note, as he stood over English Bill and peered down at this smiling
youngster. "Think as we've got jobs for such as you aboard our vessel!"
Then he laughed outright, and clapped a huge hand on Bill's shoulder.
"You'll be English," he said.
"Aye. English Bill, we call him," Larry interjected.
"British!" Bill fired out, "same as these here two, only they're
American."
"American, of course," the huge sailor responded, looking a little
puzzled. "But British? How?"
"He means," said Jim, with one of his pleasant smiles, "that America's
allied with Britain and France and all the rest of the Entente against
the Kaiser and his barbarians, so that we are all one and the same--all
friends, all fighting for the identical cause. Besides, Bill and we two
are chums, so it don't matter whether you call us all three Americans
or all three British. I ain't ashamed of being one or the other after
seeing the way Britons have shown up, have come forward by the million,
have fought the Hun in France and many another place. After that, why,
who's going to be ashamed of being mistaken for a Briton? Not me, eh,
Larry?"
"Nor me neither," jerked the latter, his head thrust forward as was
his wont, his cap tilted at a most dangerous angle, his eyes screwed
up, peering at the big sailor. "See here," he said, "I like yer look,
stranger. Yer come from aboard that ship, do yer?"
"I do," the man admitted, and then laughed uproariously. "You three
just take it! And what may be yer wants? This 'ere youngster you've
called English Bill has asked for a job. Well, there may be a job--two
or three of 'em; only what for? What's your game? There's talk of
America adopting conscription, eh?" and he looked a little slyly at
them--a little sharply at Larry and Jim, whereat the former actually
scowled and then smiled.
"I know what you're thinking of, but it's natural. Down at the mines,
if a chap had said that to me, most likely there would have been
shooting. You are right, though. There has been men elsewhere, perhaps,
that has tried to escape their national duty by slipping away from
their country. Well, stranger, just listen to this. We three are bound
for France. We're in a hurry to join up and get a slap in at the
Germans."
Thereupon they sat down on the quay-side and told their story, to which
the big sailor listened intently, sometimes scowling, then nodding his
head in evident approval.
"Tom's my name," he said, when the yarn was finished--"Tom Burgan, but
Tom'll be good enough for you young fellows; and let me say I like yer
spirit. It was a pity, though, that you didn't nail that Heinrich.
I should say that he was an enemy agent. There are lots of 'em in
America, as you people must know by now, seeing the way there have been
fires at works which have been manufacturing munitions for us Britons.
What do they call that, eh?"
"Sabotage," said Jim.
"Aye, something of that sort," agreed Tom. "'Sabitarge,' let's call it.
Dirty work, whatever you calls it. Pity is, I say, that this Heinrich
escaped, 'cause he's free to carry on the same sort of work elsewhere.
And he shot young Bill's father, did he? And he was a good man, eh?"
Bill's lips twitched; they always did when his father was referred to.
"A good man, Tom!" he ejaculated; "there never was a better."
"And proudly spoken, too. Happy's the man that knows that his son will
say that of him. Well, let's hope you'll meet this German again; only,
look out for squalls if you do. As for the search you made for him, it
must have been tricky business in that mine. It must have been nervy
sort of work seeking for him in those dark passages. And now you're
looking for more trouble. That don't surprise me. Every man that's
the proper age--and the younger and more active he is, the sooner he
seeks it--seeks for something over in France, on the high seas, or
elsewhere, some job that he can do to put a spoke in the wheel of the
German Emperor dominating the world. Well, he flooded the sea with his
submarines to keep all ships from sailing. Ho, ho, ho!" laughed Tom
uproariously, disdainfully, and the trio who listened to him joined in
heartily. "But come aboard; we'll go and see the old man."
"Old man?" said Jim.
"Aye, old man," Tom repeated, winking at Bill, who evidently understood
the meaning of the words he had employed.
"Old man?" said Larry, a puzzled look on his face. "See here, Tom, and
no offence meant, I don't want to be serving under no old man."
"You come aboard," said Tom, gripping him by the shoulder and lifting
Larry to his feet as if he were a child or a doll or some quite
inconsiderable person. "The old man's my skipper. 'Old man' stands for
skipper in the navy. You'll find him young enough even for your liking.
Step aboard."
"Af'noon, sir," he said, addressing a dapper, clean-shaven, nautical
individual who at that moment emerged from a companion and stepped on
the deck before them. "Here's three who wants to make for France to
fight the Germans. There's three jobs goin' aboard, for you're short
of your complement by that and more. How'll they do? This 'ere lad's
English to his toe-nails."
"Oh!" The nautical individual looked Bill up and down in that swift way
that officers have, and seemed to take in every tiny feature. "To his
toe-nails," he tittered, for Tom was quite a character aboard the ship,
and could take certain liberties with his officers.
"Aye, sir," repeated Bill, liking his look, "from the hair of my head
to the soles of my feet, and these two are Americans, just as much
American as I am British."
"And what can you do?" asked the Skipper, for it was he undoubtedly.
"This young fellow," and he pointed to Jim, "looks strong and steady,
and could do almost any job aboard. Young Bill, here, will fit in
almost anywhere, but you----" and he pointed a finger at the diminutive
Larry. Even to be unusually kind to him and a little flattering, Larry,
with his small attenuated figure, his ill-fitting clothes, his absurdly
big head, and his somewhat buccaneering appearance, was anything but
an attractive object, and certainly looked as though he were hardly
capable of strenuous work. "But you----" repeated the Skipper; "now I
have my doubts!"
It was like Larry to fire up at once.
"Doubts! See here, Old Man," he growled.
Whereat Jim put out a restraining hand, and Tom, enjoying the joke,
roared heartily.
"He can do a day's hard work with anyone, yep," said Jim; "and if you
was to get into any sort of trouble this here Larry would be a good
man: he can shoot, he can. When we're out at sea he'll give you a show,
and if it's a case of hitting a dollar at ten yards or of perforating
a tin that's thrown in the air, why Larry's your man. And he ain't so
fierce as he looks, nor so delicate neither."
The upshot of the whole thing was that then and there the three were
taken on as hands aboard the vessel, for indeed it was hard to obtain
full crews just at that period. A day later the ship cast off her
mooring, backed into the Hudson River, and, swinging round with the
assistance of a tug, was soon steering out towards the ocean. Little
did Bill and his friends dream, as they looked back and watched New
York disappear, and the banks of the beautiful Hudson River sink into
the distance, that their voyage to Europe and to France would prove as
eventful, even more so, as had been their last few weeks at the copper
mine, where the German had put in an appearance.
A peaceful voyage was denied them, first, because the weather was
unpropitious. A hurricane faced them as they gained the ocean, and for
four or five days the vessel whirled amongst the waves, huge masses of
spray bursting over her forecastle, while her decks heaved and tossed
in a manner which tried even Tom and older sailors. As for Bill and Jim
and Larry, all the fight was knocked out of them.
"I'd rather die!" groaned Larry, after many hours had passed, as he lay
prostrated in his bunk. "Here, you, Tom!" he said feebly, "take me up
and shy me overboard. I'd like to drown."
"You'll just sit up and swallow this 'ere 'ot cup o' stuff," the sailor
told him, roughly gripping him with that huge hand of his; "now open
yer face and take it in. No lyin' down again, neither; up yer get! Move
up and down! Now you, Jim! Bill's already feelin' better--youngsters
do. How's that, Larry? It's made yer feel good and warm inside.
What?--you won't? Oh, won't yer?"
And Larry did in most obedient manner. Indeed Tom's friendly treatment
soon brought him round, so that, as the gale abated, all three were
already proving useful. It was then, or a little later, that events
occurred to disturb the remainder of the voyage.