SOME STARTLING NEWS.
"I don't much like the idea of sneaking out as if I were a thief," said
Roy, involuntarily following the guide's motions and speaking in a
low and guarded tone. "What's the object of so much secrecy? I know I
have no right here, but since I was brought against my will, I have a
perfect right to go out open and above board."
"Easy, easy," whispered Willis, raising his hand with a warning
gesture. "We don't want to disturb Mrs. Moffatt for nothing. The timid
old soul lives in constant fear of a visit from New London burglars,
and if we should wake her up she would be scared to death."
Roy did not think to ask himself whether or not this was a good reason
for Willis's stealthy movements, for his mind was too busy with other
matters. He wanted to see the boat that was to take him across to the
city, and fervently hoped it might prove to be a large and seaworthy
one; for when he got out of the house he saw that the sky was overcast,
that the wind was rising, and that the surface of the bay looked dark
and threatening.
"Isn't it going to be an ugly night?" said he, as he accompanied his
guide down one of the broad carriageways that had been laid out along
the beach. "What a lovely road for a wheel," he went on, without giving
Willis a chance to reply. "It is as hard as rock and level as a floor."
"Yes; here's where Rowe learned to ride," said Willis. "We have twenty
miles of just such roads on the island."
"Then that was what you meant when you said Rowe's clothes were just
like mine; he is a wheelman," said Roy. "He has a nice place for
his regular runs, and I should much like to see it by daylight; but
I should think he would get lonely and long to take a spin on the
mainland now and then. I tell you it's going to blow," he added, as a
strong gust of wind shook the branches of the trees that shaded the
road on both sides. "Are you going to the city with me?"
"I can't leave the island until I put the hands to work in the
morning," replied Willis. "But I will give you a good crew and a stanch
boat. You'll go over all right. You are not afraid of a capful of wind,
I hope?"
"No, but I am afraid of a gale. I am used to smooth water, and don't at
all relish the idea of being out in a storm."
"Oh, it isn't going to storm. But if you get frightened after you are
out a little way, tell the men to bring you back or to put you aboard
some coaster, bound in. Here we are."
As Willis said this he turned off the road and led the way down the
bank and to the beach, where Roy found a boat and two men who were
evidently waiting for him.
"Here he is," said Willis, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. "He
doesn't much like the idea of going out in this breeze--"
"The breeze don't blow to hurt anything," growled one of the men,
pulling his sou'wester lower over his forehead and turning the collar
of his pea-jacket up around his ears.
"That's what I told him; but of course his wishes must be respected,
and I want you to mind this: If it gets too heavy for you, you will
either bring him back, or put him aboard some larger craft, bound in.
If you will step this way a minute, Tony, I will give you an order for
some goods I want brought from the city."
The superintendent drew off on one side out of earshot, and one of the
muffled figures followed him.
"Me and Bob hain't yet made up our minds whether we'll have a hand in
this business or not," said he, in a hoarse whisper. "Looks most too
risky, don't it?"
"There isn't a particle of risk about it," replied Willis. "Do you
think I would put the colonel's nephew in danger for the sake of a
paltry five hundred dollars? I tell you, there's nothing to fear. The
colonel told me to attend to this business for him, and when he finds
I've not done it, what shall I say to him? Do you want me to tell him
that you wouldn't obey orders because you were afraid?"
"Well, I am afraid, and that's flat," said Tony, doggedly. "I have
heared of Cap'n Jack, and I'm scared to trust myself on board his ship."
"You needn't be, for the colonel will protect you. Give him this the
minute you get aboard, and it will see you through," said Willis,
slipping an envelope into the pocket of Tony's pea-jacket. "Now, hurry
up, for the captain is in a great taking to go to sea, and he's liable
to run out at any moment. He's been waiting a long time--"
"He's been waiting long enough to get good and mad, and I wouldn't be
one of the crew he takes to sea with him this trip for all the money
there is in the broad world," said Tony, with a shudder. "He'll haze
'em till they'll be glad to jump overboard."
"You and I have nothing whatever to do with the way Captain Jack Rowan
sees fit to treat his crew," said Willis impatiently. "All you and Bob
have to do is to set this boy on board the White Squall, so that he can
get that money. But mind you: You are not to tell him where you are
going. He's as much afraid of the White Squall as you seem to be, and
wouldn't put a foot over her rail if he knew it. He thinks he going
into the city, and that you are to take him straight to a hack-stand.
Say yes or no, and be quick about it. The wind is rising every moment,
and if you don't start pretty soon you'll not be able to get away from
the beach."
"All right, Mr. Willis. We'll tend to the business for you."
Tony spoke these words in a tone loud enough to reach the ears of Roy
Sheldon, who remained near the boat in company with the man Bob. The
former supposed the words had something to do with the "order" of which
Willis had spoken, but Bob knew they were intended to convey to him the
information that the job on hand was to be carried out just as it had
been planned.
"Jump aboard, lad," said he, motioning Roy to get into the boat.
"Holler good-by to the old man, and that will do just as well as
shaking hands with him."
But Roy had no opportunity to "holler" his farewell, even if he had
thought of it; for by the time the boat was fairly afloat, the crew in
their places, and the oars shipped, the thick darkness of the on-coming
storm closed down over them, and the beach was shut out from view.
"I reckon that's the last of this scrape for one while," soliloquized
Willis, as he pulled his hat down over his ears and retraced his steps
to the house. "If there ever were two born fools in the world, they are
me and Babcock. How we managed to make such a blunder, I can't for the
life of me imagine. Now Rowe Shelly can cut his lucky and go and find
his father and mother, for all me. I'll never try to catch him, for my
cue now is to make folks believe I've had him here, and that he gave me
the slip and cleared out. Is that you, Benny? You don't know how you
startled me."
Just then some one stepped out into the road and confronted the
superintendent. It was his son; and all I know about him is that he was
called "a chip of the old block," so he must have been a rascal. The
first words the young man spoke proved that this was not the first
interview they had had that night.
"Well, how is it?" said he.
"They've gone," replied his father shortly.
"Then we've seen them for the last time; for when they get back we'll
not be here. Captain Jack will be sure to carry them off with him."
"Ain't you kinder sorry to treat Tony and Bob that way? They've been
good, faithful fellows, and I hate to think of their being kicked and
knocked about by those mates."
"They're used to it," replied Benny indifferently. "Besides, what
else could you do? You couldn't keep the boy, for he was not Rowe
Shelly; and if you had let him go, he would have had the law on you for
abduction. You couldn't have hired Bob and Tony to take him aboard the
White Squall and leave him there, because they wouldn't have done it,
and they would have blabbed about it into the bargain. By doing as I
said, you've got rid of the whole of them at once, and they'll never
come back to trouble you."
The superintendent groaned.
"I know what you're afraid of," continued Benny. "You're scared that
the ship will go to the bottom with all hands. Well, then, what made
you be such a dunce as to capture the wrong boy? You got into the
scrape and you had to get out, didn't you? Now I'm going to bed."
"There's going to be the biggest kind of a commotion on this island,
and before long, too," said Willis dolefully. "I have warning of it in
every breath of wind that comes off the bay."
I do not suppose that Willis closed his eyes in slumber that night.
It would have been a wonder if he had slept, with so guilty a
conscience for company. He arose at an early hour, saw the yacht when
she put off through the white-caps shortly after daylight to bring
the morning's mail from the city, and waited with what patience he
could for her return. She did not bring any of Roy Sheldon's friends
with her, but she landed a larger supply of mail than usual, and in
it the superintendent found a letter addressed to himself in Rowe
Shelly's well-known handwriting. Its contents were enough to drive one
frantic, Willis told himself. He had hoped that the runaway would be
satisfied now that he had got off the island, and that he would quietly
disappear and never "turn up" again; but here he was threatening the
superintendent with the terrors of the law if he did not at once
release the boy who had been mistaken for himself.
"Somebody put him up to that," groaned Willis, "for Rowe never would
have thought of such a thing himself. I wish I _could_ send that boy
back where he belongs, and if I had ever dreamed of this, I would
have done it. I made a mistake in taking Benny's advice and sending
Roy Sheldon away to be "shanghaied," for instead of getting out of
trouble, I have only pulled myself deeper into it. What is it, Jobson?"
he added, addressing himself to one of the hired men who just then
appeared at the door.
"I came in to see if you could tell me anything about Tony and Bob
Bradley," was the reply; and the words added big weight to the
superintendent's heavy load of anxiety. "They are not on the island,
and a boat that looks wonderfully like theirs is being driven ashore
from the Sound. I didn't know but you might have sent them to the city
for something."
"In all that storm?" exclaimed Willis. "Say, Jobson," he continued,
changing the subject, for it was one he did not like to dwell upon,
"was the storm so very hard? I mean, was it severe enough to keep
vessels from going and coming?"
"Oh, no. I see the White Squall has left her anchorage. She must have
gone out in the height of it, for she was there when I went to bed."
"If those two men went away last night they did it without any orders
from me," said Willis. "It's nothing to worry over. No doubt they will
come around presently. So the White Squall has gone at last!" he added,
as Jobson left to continue his search for Bob and Tony. "She has been
anchored out there in the bay for more than two weeks, waiting for a
chance to drug and steal a crew, and if she has sailed, that interloper
must have sailed with her. In that case it will be a long time before
he shows up again, for he'll not touch land this side of Cape Town.
This is too damaging a thing to lay around loose, so I will chuck it in
there," he added, tossing Rowe's letter into the grate. "Those people
from the city will be along in the course of an hour or so, and I know
what I am going to say to them. Now, why doesn't Mrs. Moffatt come in
and tell me that Rowe has run away again?"
Willis picked up one of the papers which the yacht had brought from the
city, and the minute it was opened his eye fell upon this startling
paragraph:
MUTINY IN THE HARBOR.
An Infamous Vessel and a Rebellious Crew.--A Sailor Prefers Death to
a Voyage in the White Squall.
"Pilot-boat No. 29, Caleb Rogers master, which was driven into the
harbor by the gale, reports a suicide committed under peculiarly
distressing circumstance. When off the light-ship bound in, Captain
Rogers passed the White Squall going out. As the readers of _The
Tribune_ have often been told, this interesting ship had lain at
anchor in the outer bay for nearly three weeks, waiting for a crew;
but no man who sails out of this port, so long as he kept a level
head on his shoulders, could be induced to affix his name to her
shipping articles. Now and then a few foreigners, under promise of
big pay, plenty to eat and kind treatment, have been coaxed aboard
of her, but they always deserted when they found out where they were
and who the captain was. With the aid of shipping agents, or in some
other underhanded way, the captain at last succeeded in mustering
crew enough to handle his vessel, and this morning she went out in
the teeth of the storm that forced Captain Rogers to seek shelter.
When off the light-ship a man was seen to spring upon her rail and
deliberately throw himself into the water. At the same time a white
fishing-boat was cut loose from her starboard quarter, and the wind
blew it out of sight. This, Captain Rogers thinks, made it evident
that the crew had laid their plans to desert in a body, and that the
plot was discovered and thwarted by the officers. Captain Rogers at
once rounded to, lowered a boat, and made diligent search for the
poor fellow who preferred to die rather than trust himself to the
tender mercies of Captain Jack Rowan and his brutal mates, but he
must have sunk immediately, for he was not seen after striking the
water. At certain stages of the tide, heavy vessels like the White
Squall are obliged to pass quite close to the ledge that bounds the
northern side of the channel, and in ordinary weather a fair swimmer
might succeed in reaching the light-ship; but under the circumstances
Captain Rogers thinks there was no chance for this unfortunate
man's life. The White Squall kept on her way without making the
least effort to pick him up. Now what is the use of having any law,
we should like to know, if it is not intended to reach just such
ruffians as this Captain Jack and his officers? If that sailor made
way with himself in his desperate efforts to escape their brutality,
they ought to be punished with the utmost severity."
Willis read this paragraph with eyes that seemed ready to start from
their sockets, and long before he finished the paper was shaking so
violently in his hands that the noise it made could have been heard
across the room. He understood some portions of the paragraph as well
as though he had stood upon the White Squall's deck and witnessed the
thrilling scenes that must have taken place there before that unhappy
sailor gave himself up to the mercy of the waves. But was it a _sailor_
who jumped overboard? Might it not have been some one else? How did he
know but it was--The exclamations that fell from the superintendent's
lips when this thought came into his mind can not be expressed in
words, for I do not know how to spell them.
"Benny's plan worked too well," said Willis, throwing down the paper
and getting upon his feet. "Why didn't he stay here and see me through,
instead of going off in the yacht the first thing in the morning? They
were all shanghaied, as we meant they should be; but was there any one
in the white fishing-boat that was cast adrift from the ship and which
Jobson says is now coming toward the island? And who was the fellow
who jumped overboard? That is a question that will haunt me till I
go ashore and learn the truth. I do not think Tony or Bob would do a
thing like that, for they are used to hard treatment at the hands of
shipmasters; and if it was Roy--Gracious Peter! I'm in a worse scrape
than I thought."
Willis did not have time to follow out this train of thought, for just
then Mrs. Moffat came into the room. The man knew well enough what she
was going to say, for the look of anxiety her face wore could be easily
interpreted.
"Good morning, Mr. Willis," said she, with a sorry attempt to appear as
cheerful as usual. "Have you seen Rowe since we left him in his room
last night?"
"I have not," replied the superintendent, resuming his seat and once
more unfolding the paper. "What makes you ask?"
"Why, I went up just now to tell him breakfast would soon be ready, and
he wasn't there," answered the housekeeper. "More than that, his bed
was not slept in."
"That doesn't signify. He took to the lounge probably, and went out
before any of us were up for his usual morning's spin on his wheel."
"But he took his wheel when he went to the city, and you did not bring
it back," Mrs. Moffatt reminded him.
"That's so. I had forgotten about it. I'll send for it as soon as he is
ready to tell me where he left it. Then he took his pony."
"The pony hasn't been out this morning. The hostler told me so. Mr.
Willis," said the housekeeper, becoming earnest, "I'm afraid he's gone."
"Again?" exclaimed Willis, as if the thought had just been suggested to
him. "Why, we only brought him back last night."
"I can't help that. I don't believe he is on the island."
The man knew he must make a stir about it, for any lukewarmness or
show of indifference on his part would be reported when the colonel
returned, and Willis was not yet ready to give up his lucrative
position. He wanted to make a little more money out of it first. So
he hurried from the house, making a great show of nervousness and
apprehension; and every man he met he sent off to make inquiries about
Rowe Shelly.
"If he has run away again I shall surely think he is out of his head,"
he took occasion to remark, in Mrs. Moffatt's hearing. "He couldn't go
back to the city without crossing the bay, and no boy, or man either,
would think of trying that in such a gale as we had last night and this
morning, unless he was clean gone crazy. Have you brought any news,
Jobson?"
"The little I've got is bad enough," replied the hired man. "The boat
I was telling you about a while ago has come ashore down there in the
cove--"
"And there's nobody in it," exclaimed the superintendent. "Mrs.
Moffatt, I fear the worst. Rowe tried to reach the city in that boat,
and the storm capsized him. I am afraid we shall never see him again."
"If Rowe went off in that boat Bob and Tony must have gone with him,"
said Jobson, "for they ain't either one of them to be found on the
island, and their folks don't know anything about them."
"Do you think it possible that Rowe could have bribed them to take him
across to the mainland?" said Willis anxiously. "If he did, then they
have all gone to their death."
"How could he have bribed anybody when he had no money?" cried Mrs.
Moffatt.
"Madam," replied the superintendent impressively, "he had money, and
plenty of it, too."
"When and how did he get it?"
"You tell. All I know is, that every dollar of the funds the colonel
left in my hands to pay expenses during his absence has disappeared."
"I don't care if it is," snapped the housekeeper. "Rowe Shelly never
took it. He isn't capable of such a thing."
To an inexperienced rascal it would have seemed as though the situation
was about as bad as it could be, and even Willis trembled when he tried
to look far enough into the future to see what the outcome was likely
to be. But, as it happened, he was saved from the consequences of his
folly and wickedness (for the present, at least), by one of those
unexpected freaks of fortune that sometimes happen in this world. He
did not want to talk about the stolen money, especially to a person
as sharp of tongue and as firmly convinced of Rowe's innocence as Mrs.
Moffatt was, so he sent word to the captain of the yacht to get ready
for an immediate return to the city, and hastened to his room. His
first care was to make some important changes in his wearing apparel,
and his second to hide the morning papers and take possession of a
well-filled pocket-book he found in his bureau.
"I don't know as there is any sense in putting those papers out of Mrs.
Moffatt's sight," said he to himself, "but somehow I don't want her
to see the account of that suicide until I am away from here and out
of reach of her tongue. I thought, by the way she looked at me, that
she rather suspected me of stealing that money; and didn't Rowe say in
his letter that if there was any money gone, he'd sooner think I took
it than accuse anybody else? Well, here it is, and more besides, and
into my pocket it goes. It sort of runs in my head that I am going to
see and hear something before I get back; and if it should be anything
unpleasant, I shall be prepared to take the train."
Having arranged things so that he could run or stay, as circumstances
seemed to require, Willis hurried to the jetty and ordered the captain
of the yacht to shove off. Of course the strange events that had taken
place on board the White Squall were in the mouths of all the yacht's
crew, for they had heard all about them during their first trip to the
city, and besides they had read the _Tribune_. Wherever Willis went,
into the pilot-house, the engine-room, or on the forecastle, he was
sure to hear them discussed; and after repeatedly declaring that he
didn't know anything about them, and that he was going to New London
to see if he could learn any additional particulars, Willis finally
retreated to the cabin and tried to interest himself in a paper.
What it was that induced him to jump ashore the minute the yacht
landed, and draw a bee-line for the Lafayette House, the superintendent
could not have told. But he went, as if impelled by some impulse he
could not resist, and the first person he saw when he entered the
reading-room was the very one he did not want to see. It was Roy
Sheldon. He wore a bandage over one eye, the other was slightly
discolored, and Willis noticed that when he moved his right arm he did
it with some difficulty. It had evidently been injured in some way. He
had on different clothes, a dress suit, in fact, consisting of blue
broadcloth knickerbockers and shirt, black silk stockings, low shoes,
and new white helmet. If Willis had never seen him before, he would
have rushed up and called him Rowe Shelly; but he knew it wasn't Rowe.
He took just one glance at him, then wheeled about to retire without
attracting his notice, when Roy, who was impatiently waiting for Joe
and Arthur, looked up and saw him. In an instant he was on his feet
and coming toward the man, who could not retreat. Roy had but to say a
word to bring in the policeman who was standing in front of the hotel.
But, to the superintendent's great surprise, he did not say it. On the
contrary he held out his hand, and even tried to smile. What in the
world did it mean? Willis asked himself.
"Good-morning," said Roy, in cheery tones. "I made it, as you see, but
I had a tight squeak for it. Say! I am sorry for Tony and his friend.
The waves and wind got so heavy they couldn't make headway against
them; they dared not round to and go back to the island for fear of a
capsize, so they hailed a ship that was getting under way. We supposed
that she was going to pull farther into the harbor for shelter; in
fact, one of her officers told us so. But, by gracious! the minute we
got aboard what did that scoundrel of a captain do but--Sit down, and
I will tell you all about it. It's a little ahead of anything I ever
heard of. Seen this morning's _Tribune_?"
"No; that is to say, yes. I've seen the _Tribune_, but no other paper,"
replied Willis, who was so astounded that he hardly knew what he said.
"Then, of course, you know about the poor sailor-man who preferred
death to a voyage in the White Squall," continued Roy. "Well, there
wasn't any suicide. The fellow who deliberately threw himself into the
water was I; and I tell you--Why don't you sit down? I'm as lame as
though I had been pounded with a club, although I know I was struck
only twice, once in each eye, and almost had my arm jerked out of
place. I can't stand long at a time."
Willis mechanically seated himself and listened like one in a dream,
while Roy related the following story of his adventure.