Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal
signs=.
OFF SANTIAGO WITH SAMPSON
THE "Stories of American History" Series.
By JAMES OTIS,
Author of "Toby Tyler," "Jenny Wren's Boarding House," etc. Each story
complete in one volume; with 17 original illustrations by L. J.
Bridgman.
Small 12mo, neatly bound in extra cloth, 75 cents each.
=1. When Dewey Came to Manila.=
=2. Off Santiago with Sampson.=
Two new volumes on the recent Spanish-American War, in the author's
deservedly popular "Stories of American History" Series.
=3. When Israel Putnam Served the King.=
=4. The Signal Boys of '75=: A Tale of the Siege of Boston.
=5. Under the Liberty Tree=: A Story of the Boston Massacre.
=6. The Boys of 1745= at the Capture of Louisburg.
=7. An Island Refuge=: Casco Bay in 1676.
=8. Neal the Miller=: A Son of Liberty.
=9. Ezra Jordan's Escape= from the Massacre at Fort Loyall.
Dana Estes & Co., Publishers, Boston.
[Illustration]
OFF SANTIAGO WITH SAMPSON
BY
JAMES OTIS
AUTHOR OF "JENNY WREN'S BOARDING-HOUSE,"
"JERRY'S FAMILY," "THE BOYS' REVOLT,"
"THE BOYS OF 1745," ETC.
Illustrated
BOSTON
DANA ESTES & COMPANY
1899
Copyright, 1899
BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY
Colonial Press:
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, U. S. A.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. "KEEP OUT" 11
II. KEEP IN 31
III. OFF SANTIAGO 48
IV. THE MERRIMAC 66
V. THE CHASE 86
VI. TEDDY'S DADDY 103
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE MARIA TERESA IN FLAMES _Frontispiece_
AT THE GATEWAY 12
TALKING WITH THE LONGSHOREMAN 17
THE MERRIMAC 22
TEDDY COMES ON BOARD THE MERRIMAC 27
SETTING THE HIDING-PLACE IN ORDER 34
TEDDY DISCLOSES HIMSELF 41
THE FLEET 51
"'THIS 'ERE STEAMER IS GOIN' TO BE SUNK'" 57
THE TEXAS 63
SAILORS FROM THE TEXAS 68
KEEPING WATCH OF THE BROOKLYN 73
THE SINKING OF THE MERRIMAC 79
THE SUNKEN MERRIMAC 83
TEDDY TRIES TO ASSIST THE WOUNDED SAILOR 90
THE TEXAS IN THE FIGHT 99
OFF SANTIAGO WITH SAMPSON.
CHAPTER I.
"KEEP OUT."
It was a small but by no means feeble-looking boy who stood in front
of a driveway disclosed by the opening of huge gates which, until they
had been swung inward, appeared to have been a portion of the high
fence of boards.
There was seemingly no inducement for a boy to linger in this
vicinity, unless, indeed, it might have been the sign posted either
side the gate, on which was painted in letters rendered conspicuous
because of the vivid colouring, the forbidding words, "Keep Out."
"I'll not keep out 'less I'm minded to, an' him as can hold me this
side the fence needs to be spry on his feet," the small boy said, half
to himself, and with a gesture of defiance which told he had not been
accustomed to obeying commands that might be evaded.
Through the gateway nothing could be seen save enormous heaps of coal,
some enclosed in pens formed of planks as if to prevent them from
mingling with the others, and between all a path or road of no more
than sufficient width to permit the passage of a cart. In the
distance, a rough building abruptly closed the view, and beyond it the
puffing of steam and rattle of iron implements told of life and
activity.
[Illustration]
Outside the fence, it was as if this certain portion of the city had
been temporarily deserted; but one could hear the rumble of wheels
over the pavements on either hand, giving token that the coalyard was
situated just beyond the line of city traffic.
The boy gazed into the uninviting-looking place as if fascinated, only
glancing up now and then at the signs which mutely forbade his
entrance, and, as if unconscious of his movements, stole slowly nearer
and nearer the gateway until he stood directly on the line that
separated the yard from the sidewalk.
"If I wanted to go in, it's more'n a couple of signs that could keep
me out," he muttered, threateningly, and then, with one backward
glance to assure himself that no unfriendly policeman was watching
from the distance, the boy darted forward, taking refuge behind the
nearest heap of coal, lest an enemy should be lurking near at hand.
Save for the hum of labour everywhere around, he heard nothing. No
guardian of the smutty premises appeared to forbid his entrance, and
after waiting a full minute to make certain it was safe to advance yet
farther, he left one place of partial concealment for the next in his
proposed line of march.
So far as he could see, there was no other guardian of the yard save
the two signs at the entrance, and the only purpose they served was to
challenge him.
Grown bolder as the moments passed without bringing to light an enemy,
the lad advanced more rapidly until he stood, partially concealed by
one of the pens, where it was possible to have a full view of all that
was being done in this place to which the public were not supposed to
be admitted.
If the intruder had braved the unknown dangers of the yard simply in
order to gratify his curiosity, then had he paid a higher price than
the view warranted.
The building, which from the street appeared to mark the end of the
enclosure, was a structure wherein puffing engines, grimy men, long
lengths of moving chains, and enormous iron cars or boxes were
sheltered from the sun or rain. In front of it a wooden wall extended
down into the water,--a pier perhaps it might be called,--and at this
pier, held fast by hemp and iron cables, lay a gigantic steamer built
of iron.
The intruder gave no heed to the busy men and machinery within the
building. The vessel, so powerful, but lying there apparently
helpless, enchained his attention until he had made mental note of
every spar, or boat, or cable within his range of vision.
Then, suddenly, from somewhere amid the chains, and cars, and puffing
steam, came the shrill blast of a whistle, and as if by magic all
activity ceased.
The engines no longer breathed with a heavy clank; cars and chains
came to a standstill, and men moved quietly away here or there as if
having no more interest in the hurly-burly.
One of the weary labourers, his face begrimed with coal-dust until it
was not possible to distinguish the colour of his skin, took from its
near-by hiding-place a dinner-pail, and came directly toward where the
small boy was overlooking the scene.
Within two yards of the lad the dusty man sat down, brushed the ends
of his fingers on his trousers, rather from force of habit than with
any idea of cleansing them, and without further delay began to eat his
dinner.
The boy eyed him hungrily, looked around quickly to make certain that
there were no others dangerously near, and stepped out from behind his
screen of coal.
"You'd better keep an eye out for the watchman," the man said,
speaking indistinctly because of the bread in his mouth, and the boy
replied, defiantly:
"I'd like to see the watchman 'round here that I'm 'fraid of, an'
besides, he couldn't catch me."
"What'er you doin' here?"
"Nothin'."
"A boy of your size has got no business to be loafin' 'round doin'
nothin'."
"I might be eatin' if I had a chance; but there hasn't been much of an
openin' for me in that line this quite a spell."
"Hungry?"
"Give me a piece of that bread an' I'll show yer."
"Don't you do anything for a livin'?" the man asked passing the lad a
generous slice from the loaf.
"Course I do."
"What?"
"Anything that pays. I've sold papers some since the Spaniards got so
funny; but it ain't any great snap, only once in awhile when the news
is humpin' itself. A feller gets stuck mighty often, an' I'm thinkin'
of tryin' somethin' else."
"Where's your folks?"
"I ain't got any to speak of now, since my father got giddy an' went
off to war."
"Out for a soldier, eh?"
"Not a bit of it! He shovels coal aboard one of them big steamers
that's down smashin' the life out'er Cuby, that's what he does, an'
he's nobody's slouch, dad ain't!"
"What's your name?"
"Teddy Dunlap."
"Want more bread?"
The boy leaned over in order to look into the dinner-pail, and then
said, promptly:
"I've had enough."
"Don't think you're robbin' me, 'cause you ain't. I believe in feedin'
well, an' this is only my first pail. There's another over there that
I'll tackle later."
Teddy glanced in the direction pointed out by his new acquaintance,
and, seeing a pail half concealed by some loose boards, at once
stretched out his hand, as he said:
"If you've got plenty, I don't care if I do have another piece of that
bread."
"Can't you earn enough to keep you in food?" and the man gave to the
boy a most appetising sandwich.
"Say, that's a dandy! It's half meat, too! Them you get down-town
don't have more'n the shadow of a ham bone inside the bread! Course I
make enough to buy food; but you don't think I'm blowin' it all in
jest for a spread, eh?"
"Runnin' a bank?"
"Well, it's kind'er like that; I'm puttin' it all away, so's to go
down to Cuby an' look after the old man. He allers did need me, an' I
can't see how he's been gettin' along alone."
"Where's your mother?"
"Died when I was a kid. Dad an' me boomed things in great shape till
he got set on goin' to war, an' that broke it all up."
"Did he leave you behind to run wild?"
[Illustration]
"Not much he didn't, 'cause he knows I can take care of myself; but he
allowed to make money enough so's we could buy a place out in the
country, where we'd have an imitation farm, an' live high. Oh, I'm all
right, an' every time I catch a sucker like you there's jest so much
more saved toward goin' down to Cuby. You see I never did take much
stock in dad's kitin' 'round fightin' Spaniards, an' since he left it
seems as if I was mighty foolish to let him go, so I'm bound to be
where he is, when things come my way."
"Look here, Teddy," and the dust-begrimed man spoke in a more kindly
tone to the boy, "If your father is a coal-passer in the navy, an'
that's what he seems to be, 'cordin' to your story, you couldn't see
very much of him, even though you was on board his vessel all the
time."
"Don't yer s'pose I know that? I ain't sich a baby that I count on
bein' right under his nose; but I'm goin' to be somewhere near the old
man in case he needs me."
"It seems as if you might get down to Cuba easier than earnin' the
money to pay your passage."
"How?" and Teddy ceased eating for the instant to look at this new
friend who had made a suggestion which interested him more than
anything else could have done.
"Why don't you try to work your passage? Now, here's this 'ere
steamer, loadin' with coal for the navy--perhaps goin' to the very
ship your father is on. If you could jolly the captain into takin' you
to do odd jobs, it would be a snap, alongside of payin' for a ticket
an' trustin' to luck after gettin' there."
"Well, say! That would be a great racket if it could be worked! Is it
a dead sure thing that the steamer's bound for our war-vessels?"
"That's what, though it ain't to be said that she'll be goin' to the
very craft your father's on. All I know is Uncle Sam has bought this
coal, an' it's bein' taken out to our navy somewhere 'round Cuba."
"I don't reckon any but them what enlists can go aboard the steamer,
an' the snap can't be worked, for I've tried four times to get taken
on as a sailor."
"But bless your heart, this 'ere craft is only a chartered collier."
"A what?"
"I mean she's only a freighter that Uncle Sam has hired to carry coal.
You won't find enlisted men aboard of her."
"An' do you really think there's a chance for me?"
"I can't say as to that, lad; but I'd make a try for a berth aboard if
my mind was set on goin' into that part of the world, which it ain't.
The captain went below not ten minutes before the noon-whistle
sounded, an' he's likely there this minute."
Teddy gazed inquiringly at this new acquaintance for an instant, as if
suspicious that the man might be making sport of him, and then marched
resolutely toward the end of the pier, with the half-eaten sandwich
almost forgotten in his hand.
After perhaps five minutes had passed, he returned, looking
disappointed, but not disheartened, and seating himself by the side of
the owner of the two dinner-pails, resumed operations upon the
sandwich.
"See the captain?"
"Yep."
"Didn't want a boy, eh?"
"Guess not; he said he'd give me two minutes to get out of the cabin,
an' I thought perhaps I'd better go."
"Quite natural, lad, quite natural; I'd done the same thing myself.
There couldn't have been any very great harm worked, though, in askin'
the question."
"It stirred him up considerable; but I guess he'll get over it without
any very bad spell," Teddy said, grimly, and after a brief pause,
added, reflectively, "It seems as though some men hated boys; I've
seen them as would take a good deal of trouble to kick a feller if he
stood the least little bit in the way, an' I never could understand
it."
"Perhaps there's more'n you in the same box; a brute's a brute whether
he be old or young, an' age always makes 'em worse. It's a pity,
though, that you didn't strike one of the right kind, because if
you're set on gettin' down where the fightin' is goin' on, this 'ere
steamer would have been the safest way."
"Do you know when she's likely to leave?" Teddy asked, after a long
pause, during which he had been gazing intently at the gilt letters,
_Merrimac_, on the vessel's rail.
"Some time to-night, I reckon. We've been workin' night an' day at the
loadin', an' it's said that she'll leave the dock within an hour
after the last scoopful has been put aboard."
"How long will it take her to get there?"
"I can't say, lad, seein's I don't rightly know where she's bound; but
it shouldn't be a long voyage at the worst, for such as her."
[Illustration]
Again Teddy gazed at the gilt letters on the rail, as if in them he
saw something strange or wonderful, and when the owner of the
dinner-pails had come to an end of his meal, the boy said, abruptly:
"Do you know the watchman here?"
"Watchman! I haven't seen any yet, though I reckon likely there is one
around somewhere; but he ain't agitatin' himself with doin' much
watchin'."
"Is the yard open all the time?"
"I haven't seen the gates closed yet; but most likely that's because
the work has been pushed on so fast, there hasn't been time to shut
'em. Look here, lad!" and now the man sat bolt upright, staring as
intently at the boy as the latter had at the gilt letters, "Is it in
your head to stow away on that steamer?"
"Sim Donovan did it aboard a English steamer, an' I've heard it said
he had a great time."
"Yes, I reckon he did, if the captain was the usual sort," the
dust-begrimed man replied, grimly.
"I could keep out of sight a whole week, if it was for the sake of
comin' across dad," the boy added, half to himself.
"That's what you think now, lad; but it ain't the easy work you're
countin' on. As a general rule, stowaways get it mighty tough, an' I'd
sooner take my chances of swimmin', than to try any such plan."
"If a feller kept under cover he couldn't get into much trouble."
"But you can't stay in hidin' any great length of time, lad. You'd
have to come out for food or water after a spell."
"Not if I took plenty with me," Teddy replied, in the tone of one who
has already arrived at a conclusion.
"It looks easy enough while you're outside; but once shut in between
decks, or cooped up in some small hole, an' you'd sing a different
tune."
"I wouldn't if it was a case of seein' dad when we got there."
"But that's the trouble, my boy. You don't know where the steamer is
bound. She might be runnin' straight away from him, an' then what
would you do?"
"You said she was goin' to carry the coal to our vessels, didn't you?"
"Yes; but that don't mean she'll strike the very one your father is
workin' on."
"I'll take the chances," and now Teddy spoke very decidedly.
For an instant it was as if the owner of the two dinner-pails would
attempt to dissuade him from the hastily formed determination, and
then the man checked himself suddenly.
"I like to see a boy show that he's got some backbone to him, an' it
may be you'll pull out all right. It'll be an experience you'll never
forget, though, an' perhaps it won't do any harm."
"How can it?" Teddy asked, sharply.
"Them as have tried it might be able to explain more'n I can; there's
no call for me to spend wind tryin' to tell what you won't listen to,
so I'll hold my tongue. I'm bound to say this much, though, which is
that you're certain to catch it rough when the time comes for showin'
yourself."
"That'll be all right; I can stand a good deal for the sake of seein'
the old man once more."
Having said this, Teddy turned his head away as if no longer inclined
for conversation, whereupon the owner of the two dinner-pails surveyed
him admiringly.
"I wouldn't wonder if you had considerable sand in you, Teddy Dunlap,"
he said, musingly. "An' even though it seems a queer thing for a grown
man to do, I'm minded to give you a lift along what's goin' to prove a
mighty hard road."
"Meanin' that you're willin' to help me?" the lad asked, his face
brightening wonderfully.
"It's little I can do, an' while I ought'er turn you over to the
police in order to prevent your makin' a fool of yourself, I'll see
the game out so far as I can. What have you got by way of an outfit?"
"I don't need any."
"You must have food and water."
"I ain't broke, an' it won't be any great job to buy as much grub as
will keep me goin' for a spell."
"That's the same as all stowaways figger, an' the consequence is that
they have to show themselves mighty soon after the ship sails. I ain't
advisin' you to try the game; but if you're set on it, I says, says I,
take all you'll need for a week, an' then perhaps there'll be a turn
in affairs that'll help you out of a bad hole. Here are my pails;
they're yours an' welcome. Fill 'em both with water, or perhaps cold
tea would be best; buy whatever will be most fillin', an' walk aboard
as bold as a lion within the next hour. Them as see you are bound to
think you're waitin' upon some of the workmen, an' not a word will be
said. The hidin' of yourself is easy enough; it's the comin' out
that'll be rough."
"Say, you're what I call a dandy!" and Teddy laid his hand on the
man's knee approvingly. "I was mighty lucky to come across one of your
kind."
"I ain't so certain about that. Before twenty-four hours have gone by
you may be wishin' you'd never seen me."
"I'll risk that part of it, an' if you really mean for me to have the
pails, you'll see me go aboard the steamer mighty soon."
"They're yours, my boy, an' I only hope you'll come out of the scrape
all right."
"Don't worry 'bout that; it'll be a terrible spry captain that can
make me cry baby when I'm headin' toward where dad is. Be good to
yourself!"
Teddy took up the pails, and as he turned to go out of the yard his
new acquaintance asked, solicitously:
"Got money enough to buy what'll be needed? If you haven't there's
some odd change about my clothes that--"
"I'm well fixed, an' that's a fact. Ever since the idea came to me of
huntin' dad up, I've kept myself in shape to leave town on a hustle.
You're mighty good, just the same."
"I'm makin' an old fool of myself, that's what I'm doin'," the man
replied, angrily, and then turned resolutely away, muttering to
himself, "It's little less than sheer cruelty to let a lad like him
stow away on a collier. There ain't one chance in a thousand of his
findin' the father he's after, an' the odds are in favour of his
havin' a precious hard time before gettin' back to this town."
[Illustration]
Then a whistle sounded as a warning that the labourers must return
to their tasks, and a moment later the building was alive once more
with the hum and whir of machinery, the clanking of great chains, and
the voices of men.
One of the steamer's hatches was already on and battened down. A
second was being fastened in place, and the final preparations being
made told that the enormous hold had been nearly filled with the black
fuel needed by the war-ships.
Every man, whether a member of the vessel's crew, or one of the
labourers employed for the lading, was intent only on his own
business, and among all that throng it is probable that but one gave
any heed to a small boy who came rapidly down through the yard
carrying two tin pails in his hands, and a large paper parcel under
his arm.
That single workman, who was giving heed to other than his own special
work, nodded in the most friendly fashion as the lad passed near where
he was standing, and whispered, gruffly:
"God love you, lad!"
The boy winked gravely, and then, setting his face seaward, marched
boldly up on the steamer's deck, glancing neither to the right nor the
left, lest it should be observed that he was not familiar with his
surroundings.
The man, who a few moments previous had been the possessor of two
dinner-pails, watched carefully as the small lad walked rapidly
forward, and only when the latter was lost to view did he give heed to
his own work, saying half to himself as he took up the task once more:
"I've half a mind to blow on the boy even now, for it's a cruel shame
to let him take the chances of stowin' away with but little hope of
ever findin' his father."
As if in pursuance of this thought he took a step forward, and then
checked himself, adding, thoughtfully:
"It would be more cruel to stop the little shaver just when he
believes he's workin' his plan so smooth. Better let him go his own
course, an' trust that them he comes across will remember the time
when they were lads."