CHAPTER V.

Spencer Vance had become greatly interested in the beautiful

Renie during the walk along the beach. He had become deeply

impressed with the purity, yet weirdness of her character. He

had pressed the girl for some reminiscence of her early

childhood, but she had no recollections beyond the sea and the

fisherman's cabin where she had lived with old Tom Pearce and

his wife.

Her supposed father had for years rowed her every morning

across the bay to the mainland, where she had attended the

village school, from whence she had passed to the high school,

at which her reputed father had supported her for a couple of

years.

Mrs. Pearce died suddenly one day after a few hours' illness.

Just before her death Renie was alone with her in the room.

The woman had been unconscious, but she momentarily recovered

consciousness and summoned the girl to her bedside and

attempted to communicate some parting intelligence, but alas!

she only succeeded in uttering a few disjointed exclamations,

suggestive, but not directly and fully intelligible. The

half-uttered exclamations only served to confirm certain

suspicions that had long floated unsuggested through the

girl's mind, and her disappointment was bitter when the icy

hand of death strangled the communications which the dying

woman was seeking to make.

The girl had formed a sort of attachment for Tom Pearce. The

man was a good-natured, jolly sailor sort of a fellow, and, as

intimated, had always treated the girl with the utmost

kindness and consideration.

It was thus matters stood up to the time of the detective's

strange meeting with the girl upon the beach.

As the girl pointed to the house and concluded the words which

close our preceding chapter, she glided away, and left the

detective to "work his own passage".

During the walk along the beach Renie had been a little more

explicit in explaining her immediate peril, and our hero was

prepared to more intelligently enact the role of the

eavesdropper.

The cabin of Tom Pearce, the boatman, was an ordinary

fisherman's hut, built in the midst of white sand-hills, with

a few willows planted on a little patch of made earth, and

serving as protectors against the fierce summer blaze of the

sun.

The detective crept up to the cabin, and climbing upon a rear

shed which served as a cover to several boats and a large

quantity of nets, he covered himself with a fragment of old

sailcloth, and secured a position from where, through a little

opening which in the summer was left unclosed, he could see

into the main room of the cottage. He could not only see, but

could as readily overhear any conversation that might occur.

Glancing into the room, he saw Tom Pearce, whom he had seen

many times before on board several of the boats that sail over

the bay. The fisherman, or rather smuggler, was seated before

a table on which stood a ship's lamp, reading what appeared to

be an old time-stained letter, and after an interval he

muttered aloud:

"Well, well, I don't know what to do! That girl is dear to my

old heart, and I'd rather die than any harm should come to

her; and again I don't like to stand in her way; while

according to this letter from the old woman, written nigh on

to thirteen years ago, I've no right to let her pass from my

possession."

The mutterings of the old man were interrupted by a loud rap

at his rickety door.

"Come in!" called the old smuggler.

The door opened, and a roughly dressed man strode into the

cabin.

"Hello, Pearce! I see you are here to meet me."

"Yes, Mr. Garcia, I'm waiting for you."

Mr. Garcia took a seat by the table opposite the old smuggler,

and saw the latter crumple the letter, and put it in his

pocket.

"Eh, old man, what's that your hiding?"

"Nothing that will interest you, sir; it's only an old

letter from my dead wife, sent to me many years ago

when she was visiting some of her friends over in

Connecticut."

"How about this Government officer who has been prowling

around here?" was the next question which fell from Garcia's

lips.

"Well, that's more than I can tell you, but he'll be fixed

to-night, whoever he is! Yes, sir, he'll not cause the lads

any trouble, they've 'tumbled' to him! too soon."

"They've tumbled, eh?"

"Yes; and they got up a false cruise to-night on purpose to

carry him out to sea."

"How was it the boys chanced to 'drop' to him?"

"Renie did the business."

"Renie did the business?" ejaculated the man.

"Yes, sir; she went through him. She is a wonderful girl, she

is, but I don't think she really meant to give the fellow

away, but we caught her in a trap."

"You caught her in a trap?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Well, she was sending a message to warn the detective of his

danger, and the letter was intercepted, and so we got into the

whole business. I tell you the fellows were mad, and had it

been anybody but Renie they'd never have sent another

message."

"Does Renie know her letter was intercepted?"

"I don't think she does."

"Why would she want to give the Government officer the 'tip'?"

"No telling about these women, sir, no telling about them; you

see this man is a good-looking chap, a very handsome fellow,

and he's a daring man, too, and a splendid sailor! It's a pity

he wasn't one of the crew. I tell you he saved the lives of

all the lads one night off the coast; but he's doomed! He'll

never save nobody again!"

"Has he been making love to the girl?"

"No; I reckon he's never seen her, but she's seen him; you see

Renie goes under cover sometimes, and she wanders along the

shore for hours, and one night she came upon the detective

when he was holding a parley with a pal from the city; the gal

'laid low' and overheard all that was said, and at the same

time she 'nipped' a letter which the man dropped from his

jacket, and thus got down on the whole business; but somehow

her heart went ag'in giving the man away, and she writes a

letter ready to deliver to him; and by ginger, she mislaid her

letter, and my nephew, a rattling little chap, 'nipped' it and

gave it to the Cap, and the whole business was out!"

"You are sure there has been no acquaintance between the

detective and your daughter?"

"Yes; I am sure of that."

"Why are you sure?"

"Well, I've Renie's word, and that gal would die before she

would tell a lie; no, sir, she's never spoke to him, and as

she never has, she never will, for his accounts will all be

cleared to-night! the lads will have a dead open and shut on

him."

"I reckon you've been deceived," said Garcia.

"How so?"

"That gal has known more of this man than you think. She

would not warn a stranger that his life, was in peril,

especially when that stranger was her father's foe."

"Well, it don't make any difference. She will never see him

again!"

"We can't tell about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll bet a thousand dollars the man didn't go off on the

cruise to-night!"

"Yes, he did."

"Did you see him aboard?"

"No: but I know he went."

"That girl would know that the letter was lost."

"Yes, very likely."

"Well, she'd take some other measures to warn the man; you've

been deceived, old man!"

"I hope you're mistaken, or it will be bad for Renie. I tell

you the men will be raging mad if the detective slips through

their nets to-night."

"They will be, and now you recognize the necessity of turning

the girl over to me."

"I've been thinking over that matter."

"You remember what I promised you?"

"Yes, yes; but suppose he should come?"

"Who should come?"

The old smuggler had spoken the words in a thoughtful manner,

and the question was really addressed to himself. The old

smuggler recognised that he had made a startling admission and

remained silent.

Garcia said:

"I suppose you mean the day might come when someone will

appear to claim the girl, and you will lose a large sum of

money?"

"No; no; you do not know what I mean, you have never heard the

girl's strange history."

"I know she is not your child."

"Yes; you forced that confession from me a long time ago."

"Tell me the girl's history."

"I dare not."

"Does she know the tale?"

"No."

"She believes herself your child?"

"I think she has a suspicion that she is not my child, but she

loves me."

"Has she ever asked you whether or not she is your child?"

"Never!"

"Nor hinted?"

"No."

"Then why do you say she suspects that she is not your child?"

"Well, from many little things I have been led to suspect

that. She herself has a suspicion of the real truth."

"You must then tell me her history."

"I dare not."

"Listen old man, I am her friend and your friend; this is no

place for Renie; when she was a mere child it was all right,

but now it is not safe. You must give her to me! and listen;

should anyone ever come to claim her, she shall be

surrendered, and you will receive any reward that may be

paid!"

"I do not think anyone will ever come for her, but could I

solve one mystery I know where to look."

"For what?"

"Her friends."

The "Dock Rats" of New York; Or, The Smuggler Band's Last Stand · 第 5 / 43 章