After some persuasion from Captain Jeb, who declared he could trust matey
Dan's navigation now against any wind and tide, Brother Bart consented to
Freddy's morning sail with his sturdy chum.
"Sure I know Dan loves laddie better than his own life," said the good old
man anxiously, as he watched Neb's ragged sail flitting off with the two
young fishermen. "But it's only a boy he is, after all."
"Mebby," said Captain Jeb, briefly. "But thar's boys wuth half a dozen
good-sized men, and matey is that kind. You needn't scare about any little
chap that ships with him. And what's to hurt him, anyhow, Padre? You've
got to let all young critters try their legs and wings."
And Freddy was trying his triumphantly this morning. It was one of Dan's
lucky days, and the lines were drawn in again and again, until the college
girls' breakfast and many more silvery shiners were fluttering and gasping
in old Neb's fish basket. Then Dan proceeded to deliver his wares at
neighborly island shores, where summer campers were taking brief holidays.
Some of these islands, more sheltered than Killykinick, were fringed with
a thick growth of hardy evergreens, hollowed into coves and inlets, where
the waves, broken in their wild, free sweep, lapped low-shelving shores
and invited gentle adventure.
On one of these pleasant outposts was the college camp; and half a dozen
pretty girl graduates, in "middies" and khaki skirts, came down to meet
Dan. One of them led a big, tawny dog, who made a sudden break for the
boat, nearly overturning Freddy in his leap, and crouching by Dan's side,
whining and shivering.
"Oh, he's yours! We said he was yours!" went up the girlish chorus. "Then
take him away, please. And don't let him come back; for he howled all
night, and nearly set us crazy. Nellie Morris says dogs never howl that
way unless somebody is dead or dying; and she left her mother sick, and is
almost frantic. Please take him away, and don't ever bring him near us
again!"
"But--but he isn't mine at all," replied Dan, staring at the big dog, who,
shivering and wretched as he seemed, awoke some vague memory.
"Then whose is he?" asked a pretty spokesman, severely. "He could not have
dropped from the clouds, and yours was the only boat that came here
yesterday."
"Oh, I know,--I know, Dan!" broke in Freddy, eagerly. "He belongs to that
big man who came with us on the steamboat. He had two dogs in leashes, and
this is one of them, I know, because I saw his brown spot on his head when
I gave him a cracker."
"Mr. Wirt?" Dan's vague memory leaped into vivid light: Mr. John Wirt's
big, tawny dog indeed, who perhaps, with some dim dog-sense, remembered
Freddy. "I do know him now," said Dan. "He belongs to a gentleman named
Wirt--"
"Well, take him where he belongs," interrupted the young lady. "We don't
care where it is. We simply can't have him howling here."
"Oh, take him, Dan!" said Freddy. "Let us take him home with us."
"Mr. Wirt must be around somewhere," reflected Dan. "He said perhaps he
would come to Killykinick. We'll take him," he agreed cheerfully, as he
handed out his basket of fish to the pretty, young campers. "And I think
his master will come along to look him up."
And the boys started on their homeward way, with Rex (which was the name
on their new companion's collar) seated between them, still restless and
quivering, in spite of all Freddy's efforts to make friends.
"He wasn't this way on the boat," said Freddy as, after all his stroking
and soothing, Rex only lifted his head and emitted a long, mournful howl.
"I went down on the lower deck where the big man had left his dogs, and
they played with me fine,--shook paws and wagged their tails and were real
nice."
"I guess he knows he is lost and wants to get back to his master," said
Dan. "Dogs have a lot of sense generally, so what took him over to that
girls' camp puzzles me."
"He didn't like the girls,--did you, Rex?" asked Freddy, as he patted his
new friend's nose. "My, he is a beauty,--isn't he, Dan? Just the kind of a
dog I'd like to have; and, if nobody comes for him, he will be ours for
keeps. Do you think Brother Andrew will let us have him out in the stable
at St. Andrew's? Dick Walton kept his rabbits there--"
"Until a weasel came and gobbled them up," laughed Dan, as he steered away
from a line of rocks that jutted out like sharp teeth from a low-lying,
heavily wooded shore.
"They couldn't gobble Rex,--could they, old fellow!" said Freddy, with
another friendly pat.
But, regardless of all these kindly overtures, Rex sprang to his feet,
barked in wild excitement for a moment, made a plunge from the boat and
struck out for shore.
"Oh, he's gone,--he's gone!" cried Freddy, desperately.
"Rex! Rex!" called Dan. "There's nothing or nobody there. Come back,--come
back! Well, he must be a durned fool of a dog to be jumping off at every
island he sees.--Rex! Rex!--He'll starve to death if we leave him here."
"Oh, he will,--he will!" said Freddy, wofully. "Come back, Rex, old
fellow, nice dog,--come back!"
Freddy whistled and called in vain: Rex had vanished into the thick
undergrowth.
"Oh, let's go for him,--let's go for him, Dan!" pleaded Freddy. "Maybe he
is after a wild duck or something. We ought not to let a fine dog like
that get lost and starve to death. One of the deck hands on the steamboat
told me those dogs were worth a hundred dollars a piece, and that they had
more sense than some humans."
"Well, he isn't showing it this morning, sure; and he didn't yesterday
either," said Dan, gruffly. "He isn't the kind of dog to leave around here
for any tramp to pick up, I'll agree; but how are we to haul him back,
unless he chooses to come? And I know nothing about this shore, anyhow.
Neb told me they called it Last Island, and there was once a light here
that the old whalers could see fifty miles out--why, halloo!" Dan paused
in his survey of the doubtful situation. "He's coming back!"
"Rex! Rex!" shouted Freddy, gleefully; for it was Rex indeed,--Rex coming
through the dense low growth, in long leaps, with quick, sharp barks that
were like calls; Rex plunging into the water and swimming with swift
strokes to the waiting boat; but Rex refusing absolutely to be pulled
aboard. He only splashed and shook himself, scattering a very geyser of
salt water on the tugging boys, and barked louder and sharper still as if
he were doing his best to talk.
"Jing!" exclaimed Dan, giving up all efforts to manage him. "I never saw
such a durned chump of a dog! I'm wet to the skin."
"Oh, he wants something!" said softer-hearted Freddy. "He is trying to
tell us something, Dan."
Rex barked again, as if he had heard the words; and, leaping on the edge
of the boat, he caught Freddy's khaki sleeve.
"Lookout there, or he'll pull you overboard!" shouted Dan in fierce alarm,
as Rex pulled still harder. "Golly! I believe he wants us to come ashore
with him."
"Oh, he does,--he does!" said Freddy, eagerly. "He has hunted something
down and wants us to get it, Dan. Let us see what it is."
It was a temptation that two live boys could not resist. Mooring Neb's old
fishing boat to a sharp projecting rock, they proceeded to wade where it
would have been impossible to navigate; Rex leaping before them, barking
jubilantly now, as if he had won his point.
"You stand back, kid!" (Through all the excitement of a discoverer, Dan
did not lose sight of his responsibilities.) "Let me go ahead, so if there
is anything to hurt I'll strike it first. Straight behind in my steps, and
lookout for suck-holes!"
And, with Rex leading, they proceeded Indian file over the narrow strip of
sand that shelved to the sea, and then on through thicket and branches
that hedged the shore in wild, luxuriant growth, until suddenly the ruins
of the old lighthouse rose out of the tangle before them. The shaft that
had upheld the beacon light was all gone save the iron framework, which
rose bare and rusted above the little stone cabin that had sheltered the
keeper of long ago, and that still stood amid crumbling stones and fallen
timbers.
"Back, Freddy,--back!" shouted Dan, as something big and fierce bolted out
of the ruins. "Why, it's the other dog!" he added in relief. "Mr. Wirt
_must_ be somewhere around."
And, peering into the open door of the cabin, he stood dumb with dismay;
for there indeed, stretched upon the rotten floor under the broken roof,
was his friend of the steamboat. His gun was beside him, his head pillowed
on his knapsack, his eyes closed, all his pride and strength and manly
bearing gone; only the short, hard breathing showed that he was still
alive.
"Golly!" gasped Freddy, who had crept in behind his chum. "Is--is he dead,
Dan?"
"Not--not--yet, but he looks mighty close to it. Mr. Wirt--" he faltered,
bending over the prostrate form; "Mr. Wirt!" he repeated louder. There was
no answer. "I'm afraid he's gone," said Dan, in an awe-struck voice; and
Freddy burst into boyish tears.
"What are you crying about?" asked Dan, gruffly.
"Oh, I don't know,--I don't know!" was the trembling answer. "I--I never
saw anybody dead before. What--what do you think killed him, Dan?"
"Nothing. He isn't killed," replied Dan, who had been taking close
observations. "He is still breathing. I guess he came here to hunt and got
sick, and that's what the dog was trying to tell people. Gosh, it's a pity
dogs like that can't talk!"
"Oh, it is,--it is!" murmured Freddy, putting his arm around Rex, who, his
duty done, was seated on his hind legs, gravely surveying his master.
The sick man moved a little, and groaned feebly: "Water!" the word came
faintly through parched lips. "Water,--a little--Water!"
Dan picked up a can that had evidently done duty before.
"Stay by him, Freddy, so he'll know there is something here. I'll go to
get some water. They must have had a pump or well around a place like
this,"
And while Dan discovered the broken, half-choked cistern at the back of
the Old Light, Freddy watched the sick man. He had never before seen any
one very sick, and it took some pluck to keep his post especially when Mr.
Wirt suddenly opened his eyes and looked at him. It was such a strange,
wild, questioning look that Freddy felt his heart nearly leap into his
throat.
Then Dan came back with the can full of water, and together they did their
best for their patient,--bathing his head, wetting his parched lips,
laving the helpless hands that were burning with fever, until the bright,
sunken eyes closed and the sick man sank into a fitful sleep.
"He is pretty badly off," said Dan, who had seen pain and sickness and
death, and knew. "He ought to have a doctor right away, and it's for us to
get one quick as we can. But it will be a good three hour's job; and"
(Aunt Winnie's boy's voice softened) "I hate to leave the poor fellow here
without any one to give him a drop of water, when he's burning up like
this. But you can't sail the boat alone, kid."
"No, I can't," faltered Freddy,--"I can't sail the boat, Dan; but--but"
(the young voice steadied bravely) "I can stay here with him."
"You can!" echoed Dan, staring at his little chum in amazement. "You'd
scare to death, kid, here all alone with a dying man. He is likely to go
off any minute."
"Maybe," faltered Freddy. "But--but I'd stay by him all the same, Dan. I
can bathe his head and his hands, and give him water to drink, and say
prayers like Brother Bart says we must when people are dying. O Dan, we
can't leave him here to die alone!"
"No, we can't," said Dan, heartily. "I'd never think of asking a kid like
you to stay. But, with the two dogs on the watch, there's nothing to fear.
And you are doing the real right and plucky thing, for sure. I'll sail
over to Killykinick and see if I can get Jim or Dud off for the nearest
doctor, and be back here as quick as I can. And you, kid" (Dan's tone
softened tenderly to his little chum), "don't scare more than you can
help. Stick it out here as best you can."
Dan was off at the words, and for a moment Freddy felt his heart sink
within him. He looked at the broken walls, the gaping roof, the dying man,
and his blood chilled at the thought of the long hours before any one
could return to him. Standing at the door of the Old Light, his eyes
followed Dan's sturdy figure leaping swiftly through the bramble bush, and
now he had reached the boat and put off.
Freddy was left indeed. He gulped down a big lump that rose in his throat,
and, with the can of water Dan had freshly filled for him, took his seat
at his patient's side. Rex came up and put a cold nose on his knee, and
Freddy's watch began.