MIKE CONNELL TO THE RESCUE
On the very day that the White Pine logging expedition had been so
completely disbanded, the tug _Broncho_ had been sent up the coast in
a hurry after a supply of timber. She reached Laughing Fish Cove in
the evening after Peveril's departure from his camp, and spent the
night there awaiting him. Her captain was greatly perplexed by the
failure of any of the party to put in an appearance, and the more so
when he learned from the fishermen that Peveril had returned alone
only to depart again on foot soon afterwards.
By morning he dared not wait longer, for his instructions were to
start back immediately with such logs as had been collected. He also
imagined that, having picked up all the timber they could find, and
becoming tired of waiting for him, the wreckers might have set out for
Red Jacket on foot. So, taking in tow the raft that he found in the
cove, he started down the coast, arriving at his destination that same
evening.
Mike Connell, who had been anxiously awaiting Peveril's coming, was at
the landing to meet his friend, and was much disappointed at his
non-appearance. After gaining all the news concerning the missing
party that Captain Spillins could give him, he hastened back to Red
Jacket, and went at once to the Trefethen cottage with a faint hope
that Peveril might be there.
The inmates of the little house had also pleasantly anticipated the
return of the young man in whom they were so interested, and had made
such simple preparations as came within their means for welcoming him.
Now their disappointment at Connell's report was mingled with a
certain anxiety that increased as they discussed the situation.
"I'm feared lad's got into some trouble along of they furriners,"
reflected Mark Trefethen, as he puffed thoughtfully at his short pipe.
"Not but he'll find way outen it, though, for he's finely strong and
handy wi' his fists. Still, there's always the knives and deviltry of
they furriners to be reckoned with."
"They do tell as hit's a cruel country up yon, full o' thieves and
murderers, to say naught o' smuggling pirates," put in his wife;
"which, as I were saying to Miss Penny no longer ago than yesterday,
when me and 'er was looking in at company store, the same as Maister
Peril should be running this blessed minute if 'e 'ad 'is rights,
'Miss Penny,' sez I, 'that pore young man'll never get it in this
world, now 'e's gone for a sailor, mark my words,' little thinking
they'd so soon come true."
"If I was a man," said Nelly Trefethen, at the same time casting a
meaning glance at her sweetheart, "I'd not be sitting here wondering
how he's to be got out of trouble, especially if he'd done for me what
he has for some."
"No more will I," spoke up Mike Connell, "for I'm going to find him,
which is what I came to say along with telling the news."
"And I'll go with you!" exclaimed Tom Trefethen, springing to his
feet, as though for an immediate start.
"No, Tom; glad as I'd be of your company, it's best I should go alone,
seeing as I know that country well, and one man can get along in it
when two couldn't. Besides, you are needed here, while I'm not."
In spite of young Trefethen's protests, the Irishman remained firm in
his decision to set forth alone in search of his friend; and as he
left the house Nelly, who with the others accompanied him to the door,
managed to give his hand an approving squeeze.
Although Major Arkell gave orders for the tug to return to Laughing
Fish in search of the missing loggers the moment her services could be
spared, it was not until twenty-four hours after bringing in the raft
that it was possible for her to do so.
In the meantime Mike Connell, starting at the break of day, and
walking briskly northward, reached the cove that still held Peveril's
deserted camp that same afternoon.
Through an intimacy with several of his countrymen who were successful
peddlers of Ralph Darrell's smuggled goods, Connell had learned much
concerning that section of country, and the various operations
conducted within its limits. He had at one time seriously contemplated
going into the peddling business himself, and had made so many
inquiries in regard to its details that he was even familiar with
"Darrell's Folly," though it was a place he had never visited.
Knowing it to be a headquarters for smugglers, and believing that, if
Peveril had really got himself into trouble, it would be in connection
with some of those people, he felt that it was a likely locality in
which to search for information. Accordingly he headed directly for
it, only going a short distance out of his way to visit Laughing Fish
Cove. Having heard that the fisher-folk were in league with the
smugglers, he did not care to betray his presence to them, and so did
not show himself in the little settlement, but only skirted it, until
certain that his friends were not there. Then he proceeded towards his
destination by the same trail that Peveril had followed only two
nights before.
As he walked slowly along the narrow pathway, trying to invent some
plausible excuse for presenting himself before the irascible old man
who, he had heard, excluded all strangers from "Darrell's Folly," his
steps were arrested by the sound of voices approaching from the
opposite direction. In another moment he saw three men hurrying
towards him, gesticulating wildly and talking loudly in an unknown
tongue.
As they drew near he recognized in them the three car-pushers recently
driven from the White Pine Mine. It also flashed into his mind that
these were the men whom he had urged to make a cowardly attack on the
young fellow he had then considered an enemy, but for whom he was now
searching as for a dear friend.
The new-comers also recognized him, and, regarding him as of one
purpose with themselves in all that concerned Peveril, did not
hesitate to advance and speak to him. After an exchange of greetings,
Connell broached the business in hand by asking if they had seen
anything in those parts of the chap who had driven them from White
Pine.
The men glanced at each other hesitatingly for a moment, and then
Rothsky answered:
"Yes, my friend, indeed we have seen him, and to our sorrow, since it
is but now that he has driven us from another job, better even than
that."
"How so?" inquired Connell, pricking up his ears.
"It is this way: We are working, at good wages, for the old fool over
yonder, when that devil of a Per'l comes and tries to steal our
timbers. Then the boss compels us to seize him and put him in his
boat, which we tow far out in the lake. Then, as he makes a try to
escape, the boss, who is like a man crazy, shoots him with a pistol
through the head, and we all see him fall without life in the bottom
of his boat. He is so very dead that he does not even move, and so is
let go to drift, him and his boat, while we return to shore."
"A fine way of treating trespassers, bedad!" exclaimed Connell; "but
all the same, there is folks who would call it murder."
"Yes, was it not? But wait. All that was three days ago; and yet, but
one hour since, two of us have seen the ghost of this beast Per'l
standing on the black rocks, with the white face of death, the wet
hair of the drowned, and his clothing torn by the teeth of fishes. He
said not one word, but waited for us, and would have dragged us to the
bottom if we had not fled in time. Now, with such things allowed, we
can no longer work in this place, and so, for the second time, has he
driven us from our good job."
"It's a cruel shame and an outrage on dacency, nothing less!" cried
Connell, in pretended indignation. "At the same time, Rothsky, man,
I'd like to have been with you, for do you know I've never laid eyes
on a ghost at all, but would like mightily to have the exparience.
Would ye mind tellin' me now where could I find this one, just for the
pleasure of the sensation?"
"No, no, Mist Connell! Don't go near it, for you'll be going to your
death if you do."
"But, if I'm willing to risk it why not?"
So the Irishman insisted that they should permit him to share with
them the glory of having seen a ghost, and finally won from them full
directions how to discover the place from which they had fled in
terror. The sly fellow even made pretence of wishing them to go back
with him, and, when they declined to consider his invitation, declared
them to be a set of cowards, and set forth alone.
"It's my belief," he said to himself, as he made his way towards the
place where they had told him he would find a boat, "that them divils
of Dagos have played some dirty trick on Mister Peril. If there'd been
but two of them I'd found some way of extorting a confession from
their lying mouths, but odds of three to one is too big to risk. So I
had to blarney them; but maybe I'll be able to help the lad some way;
and, anyhow, here's for the trying."
It was dusk when Connell, having found the boat, pulled unobserved out
of the land-locked basin, and by the time he reached the ledge, where
he had been told he would find Peveril's ghost, darkness had so closed
in that he could not tell whether it was occupied or not until he had
left his craft and explored its limited area.
"Mister Peril!" he called, softly; "come out, if you're hiding, for
it's only me, Mike Connell, come to take you away from this--Oh, bad
cess to it, he's not here at all, and it's a great song-and-dance them
Dagos give me! Now I'll have to go and beg a night's lodging of the
old man, and maybe he'll give me a job in place of them as has just
left him. In that case I'll find out something, or me name's not--Holy
smoke! where's me boat? Bad luck to the slippery craft! It's gone
entirely, and here I am left to spend the cruel night alone on a bit
of a rock in the sea. If I was in jail I'd be better off."
It was only too true. The light skiff, carelessly left to its own
devices, had been caught by a gentle breeze and borne without a sound
beyond sight or hearing.
As the second prisoner claimed by the black ledge that day stood
dismally bemoaning his hard fate, a light flashed out above him, and,
glancing upward, he saw what he took to be a man in the act of hanging
two lanterns to a bit of a tree. It was a danger-signal warning the
smugglers to keep away, and Mary Darrell was placing it by order of
her father, who feared Peveril might still be lingering in that
vicinity.
"Hey, lad," cried Connell, noting her slight figure, "will you help a
fellow-creature in distress by tossing down the end of a rope?"
"Are you really still there?" exclaimed the girl, in a tone of dismay,
and striving to peer down through the darkness.
"I am that, but most anxious to get away."
"And if I do let down the rope, will you promise to depart at once the
same way you came?"
"I'll promise anything if you'll only let me up."
"Well, then, there it is. I know I am doing wrong, but I can't leave
you down there all night, for you would be dead by morning."
"True for ye," answered Connell, as he began briskly to climb the
rope, hand over hand.
As his face appeared within the circle of lantern-light, the poor
girl, who was waiting with trembling anxiety, uttered a cry of terror
and fled into the gloom of the cavern.
"Well, if that don't bate my time!" exclaimed the new-comer, as he
gained a foothold on the ledge. "Whatever could the lad be frightened
of?"