EUCHRED ON THE SHORE
Captain Ringgold and Louis Belgrave did not at once understand what
Frinks was doing, for the boat could hardly be seen in the gloom of
the dark and stormy night. They heard the noise made in getting away
from the shore, and then the dip of the oars in the water. The young
millionaire was the first to suspect that something was wrong, but he
did not feel well enough assured of it to say anything, for he was
strongly opposed to becoming a prophet of evil under any circumstances;
but he halted in the march which had already been begun in the
direction of the town.
The young man stopped short a few rods from the shore, and listened
with all his ears for any sounds which would afford him further
information, while the shipmaster and the cook continued on their way.
He could plainly hear the hurried dip of oars, and the rattle of the
looms in the thole-pins. Beyond a doubt there was a movement of some
kind on the part of the mate, and Louis rushed in hot haste to the bank
of the creek, for there were signs of treachery on the part of the
Maud’s officer in the boat.
“Halloo! Hallo! Mr. Frinks!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, which
were not weakened by consumptive tendencies.
“On shore!” replied the mate, as he ceased rowing.
“What are you about, Mr. Frinks?” demanded Louis.
The boat was already too far off for an easy going conversation; but if
the mate condescended to explain his movement, it might do something to
restore the young man’s confidence.
“I am going to look along the shore towards the town to see if there is
another creek you will have to cross, and to ferry you over if I should
find one,” answered Frinks, still laying on his oars.
“What is the matter, Louis?” asked Captain Ringgold, hastily returning
to the shore, followed by Bickling.
“I don’t know that anything is the matter,” replied Louis. “The mate
shoved off in the boat, and says he is going towards the town to see if
there is another creek, in order to ferry us across it if there should
be one.”
“I don’t quite like the looks of that movement, and I am decidedly in
favor of keeping the mate on shore with us. If a boat-keeper is needed,
let the cook attend to that duty,” replied the captain; and his tones
indicated that he also discovered some signs of treachery.
“All right; order him to bring the boat back to the shore, captain,”
answered Louis.
“In the boat!” shouted the shipmaster.
“On shore!” replied Frinks. “What do you want now?”
There was something in the tone of the mate, and in the little word
“now” with which he ended his sentence, that indicated a sort of
contempt for the one who hailed him.
“Bring the boat to the shore!” added Captain Ringgold, loud enough to
be heard half-way across the bay.
“Very well, captain! I will come ashore as soon as I have taken a look
across this point of land,” answered Frinks; and Louis thought there
was something of the raillery with which he had mixed up his speeches
when he explained in what manner he had made the capture of the party
in the forenoon; in other words there was something like triumph in his
tones.
“Come ashore at once!” cried the captain, fortified in his suspicion
that all was not right by the manner of the mate.
“All right! You wait till I come!” was the response of Frinks.
At the same moment the rattle of the oars and the dip of them in the
water were heard, and it was evident that the treacherous mate was
pulling with all his might away from the spot where he had landed his
late companions in the boat.
“Come ashore at once! If you don’t I will fire upon you!” yelled the
captain, as he drew one of the large revolvers from his pocket.
“Fire away!” returned Frinks in tones of derision, mingled with a
chuckling laugh that fully indicated the treason of the mate.
Captain Ringgold got the direction of the boat as well as he could
from the sounds that came from it, and then discharged his revolver,
which he had loaded in the steerage when the pair of weapons were given
to him.
“Good!” shouted the mate contemptuously.
The shipmaster, using all the care the situation permitted, fired
again; but it was very much like shooting at the moon, so far as the
chances of hitting were concerned. The darkness was impenetrable, and
the shipmaster had nothing to guide his aim but the sounds from the
boat.
“Good again!” returned Frinks derisively, and the sound of his voice
grew less distinct as he increased his distance from the shore.
“No use to fire at him any more, captain,” replied Louis in a tone of
utter despondency, as he realized that the battle, according to present
appearances, was utterly lost.
But the captain continued to fire until he had discharged all the
barrels in his two pistols. The mate could hear the reports, and
he responded to every one of them in tones of the utmost contempt,
as though he was enjoying the chagrin of the young millionaire and
his stalwart companion. He had certainly won the victory again over
the young Parkite, and he appeared from his tones to be enjoying it
heartily.
“There is a light off there now, and it must be on board of the Maud,”
said the captain, as he peered through the gloom in the direction from
which they had come in the boat. “All I have to say, Louis, is that we
have been euchred!”
“So it appears,” added the young man bitterly. “And my mother is
on board of that craft still, with no one to protect her from the
wiles of that villain. I am afraid I have been stupid in trusting to
appearances. We had Scoble bound hand and foot, and we brought the mate
off with us. I ought not to have believed a word that oily-tongued
rascal uttered.”
“It is no use to groan over it, my boy; we must act,” added the
shipmaster, evidently ashamed that he had permitted himself to be
overreached, but not so utterly cast down as his young companion, as he
had less reason to be.
“What can we do?” demanded Louis, suddenly rousing himself from his
despondency.
“Oh, I don’t give it up yet, my boy! All we can do is to make our way
to the town, procure a tug-boat, and give chase to the schooner. I
think we have taken away all the firearms there were on board of her,
and with such officers as we can procure in Southfield, where I am
somewhat acquainted, we may yet be able to arrest the villain, and save
your mother from further persecution. I feel that I am somewhat to
blame for the accident which has happened to us, and I pledge you all
my time, and all my fortune, which is nothing near as large as yours,
to follow this Scoble all over the world if necessary, till we have him
behind the iron bars,” continued Captain Ringgold with a heartiness
that made Louis his friend for life.
“Whatever fortune I have is nothing compared with the safety and
happiness of my mother, and I would spend every dollar of it, if my
trustee will allow me to do so, to redeem her from the power and
possession of John Scoble,” said Louis earnestly.
His million and a half, as that was the amount of it in round numbers,
seemed like a bagatelle to him at the present moment, for he could
neither pay it out nor pledge it to procure the return of his mother to
her new home at the Park. But the captain did not despair of being able
to accomplish something in the pursuit of the villain who had again
brought grief and shame to those it had once been his duty to protect.
“It is certainly the time for action, as you say, Captain Ringgold; but
what shall we do? What can we do?” he demanded.
“That is the question to be immediately settled,” replied the captain,
looking about him as if to obtain further information that would assist
him in taking some action. “This creek is too wide to be crossed
without a boat; and there seems not to be even a punt about here.”
“What good would it do to cross the creek, if we could do so?” asked
Louis.
“Perhaps none. If we could get over to the hill that shelters the
vessel from the gale, we should still be too far from the Maud even
to shoot those on board of her; and we could not get on board of her
without a boat. It is no use to look in that direction,” was the
captain’s conclusion. “The only thing we can do is to make our way over
to Southfield; and I hope we shall find a tug-boat there, though it is
by no means certain. It is plain enough to me now that Frinks knew more
about this bay than he pretended, for he made sure to land us this
side of the creek so that we could not get near the Maud again. He has
managed his case very well.”
“That light was not exhibited on the Maud when we left her,” suggested
Louis.
“It was not; but the mate is expected to come back, and the light is
hoisted to enable him to make the quickest time on his return. I have
no doubt Captain Scoble will put to sea the moment he is on board. I
dare say the reefed sails are set, and the anchor hove short by this
time.”
“We have seen that the Maud can’t do much in the way of sailing in
such a heavy sea, and with the wind nearly ahead of her,” added Louis,
taking comfort from the reflection.
“That is very true, my lad; but the ocean is almost boundless, and
it is very hard to find a vessel, even a slow sailer, on its vast
expanse,” replied the captain. “I was an ensign in the navy during the
last part of the Rebellion, and my ship was looking for months for the
Alabama; but we did not find her. Scoble may not sail before morning,
and we may get a steamer on his track by that time. But we can’t waste
any more time in talking about the matter; let us move towards the
town.”
Captain Ringgold led the way, and Louis kept at his side. Bickling
came up behind them. He had been forgotten in the excitement of the
stirring event of the evening; and then, for the first time, the young
man recalled the application of the cook to be taken in the boat with
him. He called him to his side, for they were walking over a salt marsh
which was dry enough at that stage of the tide, and there was room
enough for all of them to march abreast.
“Why did you desire to go in the boat with me, Bickling?” asked Louis,
in opening his inquiry.
“You have been very kind to me, sir, which I appreciate a good friend,
sir, and I wanted to be of some service to you, which I am afraid it is
too late now,” replied the cook.
“Then, why didn’t you speak out before?” demanded the young man
indignantly.
“Which I couldn’t do it, sir, though I would gladly ’ave done it,
sir,” protested the man, who even now seemed to be frightened about
something, though he had no reason to fear his present companions.
“Why couldn’t you do it? You had a tongue in your head!” added Louis
very warmly, for it was clear to him that the cook knew something about
the plot which had just been sprung upon them.
“I ’ave to mind my own business, sir, and I can’t hafford to meddle
with hother people’s haffairs, which it is just as plain to you, sir,
as it is to me, sir, who am a poor man,” replied Bickling. “I tried to
do something for you, sir, but I failed.”
Louis thought that he was perhaps unjust to the poor man, and softened
his manner.