UNWELCOME VISITORS
After he had eaten his supper, Eben washed his few dishes and went out
on deck. He sat down upon one of the blocks of granite and looked out
over the water. It was a beautiful evening, with not a breath of wind
astir. The river shimmered like a great mirror, its surface only
ruffled when an occasional motor-boat hurried by, and the little
steamer "Oconee," on her regular evening trip from the city, ploughed
past and blew for a wharf a short distance beyond. A noble river is
the St. John, enwrapped with the halo of romance and deeds of daring.
In days long ago it bore upon its bosom the light canoes of Indians as
they journeyed to and fro for trading or warlike purposes. It felt the
surge of larger vessels, both of England and France, during the
stirring days when those two nations contended for the supremacy of a
virgin land. Later it saw the slow-creeping boats of hardy pioneers,
Loyalists, who came to make for themselves homes in the wilderness.
Its shores re-echoed to the shouts and songs of sturdy raftsmen in the
days when acres of great logs were floated down to the sea. It had
cradled upon its bosom fleets of boats, their white sails swelling to
every wind that blew. These were gradually replaced by noisy steamers
and tugs until only a few remained, of which the "Eb and Flo" was one.
To an imaginative mind the history of such a river would be sufficient
to thrill the soul. But to the youth sitting there alone upon deck it
meant nothing. In fact, he did not notice the beauty of the evening,
nor the soft calmness which surrounded him. His mind was upon other
things. He was thinking of the scene which had just been enacted on
board the boat. He was in a rebellious mood, and now, as often before,
quietness and deep thought were his two choice friends. He glanced
occasionally toward the shore and up to the little cottage nestling
among the trees. It was his home, and yet he had little affection for
the place. It was there he had received food and shelter nearly all
his life, but no sweet memories clustered around that little house. He
had always been misunderstood, and he could not recall the time when he
had not been scolded for everything he did. His mother was a woman who
did her duty according to her light, and looked well after the bodily
welfare of her family. But she overlooked the fact that people need
more than bread and clothing, and that eternal scrubbing, washing and
dusting do not make a real home. For the first time in his life he
felt a deep pity for his father as he thought of the stern inquisition
he was no doubt undergoing. And Flo, too, would have much to say, for
her mother had moulded her according to her own design.
"Poor dad must be having a lively time of it now," he mused. "I wish
he'd show a little more spunk, an' stand up fer his rights. Ma an'
Flo'd think more of him if he did. I don't believe all women act that
way. I wonder----?"
His thoughts trailed off to the one girl who had ever stirred his soul.
How different she was from his own sister, he thought. He felt quite
sure that she would not always be finding fault with everything he did.
His eyes glowed with a new light, and his heart beat faster as he
remembered how interested she had been in his drawings. Then his
feelings underwent a swift change. He was nothing to her. She never
once thought of him after she met Hampton at the quarry. And he had
struck her instead of his enemy! Would she ever learn the truth? he
wondered.
A low rumble of thunder in the distance aroused him. He looked off
toward the right. The sun had gone down, and big black clouds were
massing in the distance and rolling up from the west. The thunder was
becoming more audible, while flashes of lightning were already
splitting the air. He was well accustomed to such storms, which at
times came up suddenly after a day of intense heat. They were
generally accompanied by a heavy wind, and he remembered, how twice
that very summer the "Eb and Flo" had dragged her anchor when hit by a
furious gale. The first time she had, drifted out into the main
channel, and they only had time to hoist sail and get her under way.
On the second occasion she had gone ashore, and barely escaped a pile
of rocks. Fortunately it had been low tide, so when the water rose, a
passing tug had pulled her off, undamaged. The anchor was too small,
and his father had often spoken about getting a larger one. But this
he had neglected to do, principally because of the expense. Had there
been good anchorage at Beach Cove, Eben would have felt more at ease.
But he knew that the bottom here was gravelly and would afford but a
poor hold for the best of anchors. A louder rumble of thunder fell
upon his ears.
"It'll soon be here," he muttered. "Guess I'd better lower the sail.
It won't do to have it up when the squall strikes."
He rose to his feet and was making his way across the pile of stones,
when a motor-boat sputtered near, and slowed down close alongside.
There were two men on board, one steering, and the other at the engine.
"Is this the 'Eb and Flo'?" the former asked.
"Guess so," was the reply. "What d'ye want?"
At once the motor-boat was made fast to the deck-rail, and the two men
climbed on board. Such liberty was not at all pleasing to Eben. His
fists doubled and his eyes expressed anger. He recognised one of the
visitors as Donaster, the man from whom Jess Randall had fled. He did
not like the look upon his face nor his insolent manner. What right
had these men to come on board the "Eb and Flo"? he asked himself. He
felt in a fighting mood, but he realised that he could do little, for
Donaster's companion was a big burly fellow, of the fighting type. All
this passed quickly through his mind as he stepped back and waited to
see what the men would do. He did not have many seconds to wait, for
Donaster, after peering keenly around as if expecting to see someone
else, turned impatiently toward Eben.
"Have you a young woman on this boat?" he asked.
"S'pose I have, what bizness is it of yours?" Eben retorted, now more
angry than ever.
"You'll know d---- quick whether it's my business or not if you don't
answer my questions."
"I don't have to. This boat's me own, an' I kin have anyone I like on
board. You clear out of this."
"Don't get insolent, you young cuss. Keep a civil tongue in your mouth
or it won't be well for you. I want to know if you have a young woman
on board?"
Eben did some quick, hard thinking just then. A spirit of natural
shrewdness came to his assistance, and a sudden idea flashed into his
mind. He could not fight these men single-handed, and win. He must
get them at a special disadvantage, and there was only one way in which
this could, be accomplished. He thought of the cabin.
"S'pose I have a woman on board, what of it?" he asked.
"We want her; that's all."
"Well, then, ye'll have to find her yerselves. Don't frighten her,"
and he motioned aft.
"What! In the cabin?" Donaster was much excited now.
Eben merely nodded, and stepped back.
"Come on, Bill," Donaster ordered. "I suspected she was here."
So intent were the two men upon their search that they paid no more
heed to Eben, but hurried at once toward the cabin. Had they been the
least suspicious and glanced back, they might have been more cautious.
They would have seen the young man they despised as of no account
following, his face clouded with anger, and bearing in his hands a
stout stick he had picked up from the deck. But sure of themselves,
the visitors reached the cabin and descended. No sooner had their
heads disappeared below the hatchway than Eben leaped forward, and
stood menacingly on guard above. In his hands he clutched the stick
and waited. He heard the men groping around below.
"It's as dark as h---- down here," Donaster was saying. "Hustle on
deck, Bill, and fetch that fool down to give us a light."
The man at once obeyed, but no sooner had he placed his right foot upon
the bottom step than a roar of warning greeted him from above. It was
Eben's voice, and there was no doubting its meaning.
"Come up an' I'll brain ye," he roared.
Instinctively Bill drew back, while an exclamation of annoyance and
fear escaped his lips. In the twilight of evening he could see the
threatening lad above and the uplifted stick.
"Here, none of that, you fool," he cried. "What's your idea?"
"Come up an' I'll show ye. But I guess ye'll stay there all right.
Mebbe I'm not sich a fool as ye think. Ye know now who owns this boat,
don't ye?"
The men were in a trap, and knew it. They were very angry and
threatened and cursed in the most violent manner. But the more they
raved, the more satisfied Eben became. It was rare sport, and he was
enjoying it. But he was determined for all that, and if the men had
ventured up the stairway he certainly would have knocked them down.
The peals of thunder were now becoming louder and more frequent. The
intense calmness was ominous of the coming storm. Eben glanced
uneasily toward the west and then forward. He knew that the sail
should be down, but he did not dare to leave his post even for a
minute. The men were whispering to each other. What they said he
could not make out, but presently he heard the scratching of a match,
and a light flared up. They were searching for a lamp, which they soon
found and lighted. He knew that they could only escape from their
prison by means of the door, for his father had built the upper part of
the cabin exceptionally strong to keep out thieves when the boat was
lying at her wharf in the harbour.
A vivid flash of lightning rent the air, followed almost immediately by
a tremendous crash of thunder. From the cabin came a howl of fear, and
looking down Eben could see two frightened faces staring up at him.
"For God's sake, let us up out of this hole!" Donaster pleaded. "We'll
smother here."
"Jist stay where ye are," was the reply. "Ye got yerselves into this
fix, an' ye'll have to make the best of it."
"But the lightning might strike the boat," Donaster argued.
"It would serve you divils right if it did. But, heavens, the storm's
upon us!"
He slammed to the cabin door, and securely bolted it.
He next leaped across the deck-load and tore loose the halliard.
Instantly the sail came down with a rush, the gaff striking the boom
with a bang. Across the hills came the storm. It could be heard a
mile or more away, and in a few minutes the first drops of rain
pattered upon the deck. Eben struggled to gather together the sail as
it flopped in the first fitful gusts of wind and make it secure. But
before this could be accomplished the storm was upon him. The thunder
was terrific and the lightning incessant. The rain descended in
torrents, and the wind whipping across the deck, caught the half furled
sail and drove the boom with a thud to the full length of its sheet.
In a few minutes Eben was soaked to the skin as he leaned against the
mast for support. But he thought little of himself. His only concern
was for the "Eb and Flo" as she reeled beneath the storm and strained
heavily at her anchor.