TROUBLE IN THE RUNAWAY CAMP.
“What are you running for?” shouted Bill Stout,
as Raimundo and Bark Lingall ran ahead of
him after the party landed from the felucca. “We are
all right now.”
Bill could not quite get rid of the idea that he was the
leader of the expedition, as he intended to be from
the time when he began to make his wicked plans
for the destruction of the Tritonia. He had the vanity
to believe that he was born to command, and not to
obey; and such are generally the very worst of leaders.
“Never mind him, Lingall,” said the second master.
“When we get to the top of this rising ground we can
see where we are.”
“I am satisfied to follow your lead,” replied Bark.
“If our plans are spoiled, it will be by that fellow,”
added Raimundo.
But in a few minutes more he halted on the summit
of a little hill, with Bark still at his side. Bill was
some distance behind; and he was evidently determined
to have his own way, without regard to the
wishes of the second master. On the rising ground,
the lights revealed the position of the city; but the
fugitives looked with more interest, for the moment, at
the sea. Raimundo had run when he landed, because
he saw that the lay of the land would conceal the movements
of the felucca from him if he remained where he
had come on shore. Perhaps, too, he considered it best
to put a reasonable distance between himself and the
dangerous boatman. On the eminence they could distinctly
see the felucca headed away from the shore in
the direction from which she had come when they were
on board.
“I was afraid the villain might be treacherous, after
all,” said Raimundo. “If he had headed into the port
of Tarragona, it would not have been safe for us to go
there.”
“What’s your hurry?” demanded Bill Stout, coming
up at this moment. “You act as though you were
scared out of your wits.”
“Shut up, Bill Stout!” said Bark, disgusted with his
companion in crime. “If you are going to get up a
row at every point we make, we may as well go back
to the Tritonia, kiss the rod, and be good boys.”
“I haven’t made any row,” protested Bill. “I
couldn’t see what you were running for, when no one
was after you.”
“Raimundo knows what he is about; and, while the
thing is going along very well, you set to yelling, so as
to let the fellow know where we were, if he took it into
his head to follow us.”
“Raimundo may know what he is about,” snarled
Bill; “but I want to know what he is about too, if I
am to take part in this business.”
“You will not know from me,” added Raimundo
haughtily. “I shall not stop to explain my plans to a
coward and an ignoramus every time I make a move.
We are in Spain; and the country is big enough for all
of us. I did not invite you to come with me; and I
am not going to be trammelled by you.”
“You are a great man, Mr. Raimundo; but I want
you to understand that you are not on the quarter–deck
of the Tritonia just now; and I have something to say,
as well as you,” replied Bill.
“That’s all! I don’t want to hear another word,”
continued Raimundo. “We may as well part company
here and now as at any other time and place.”
“Now you can see what you have done, Bill,” said
Bark reproachfully.
“Well, what have I done? I had as lief be officered
on board of the vessel as here, when we are on a time,”
answered Bill.
“All right; you may go where you please,” added
Bark angrily. “I am not going about with any such
fellow as you are. If I should get into trouble, you
would lay back, and let me fight it out alone.”
“Do you mean to say, Bark Lingall, that you will
desert me, and go off with that spoony of an officer?”
demanded Bill, taken all aback by what his friend had
said.
“I do mean to say it; and, more than that, I will
stick to it,” said Bark firmly. “You are both a coward
and a fool. Before we are out of the first danger, you
get your back up about nothing, and make a row.
Mr. Raimundo has been a gentleman, and behaved
like a brave fellow. If it hadn’t been for him, we
should have been robbed of all our money, and perhaps
have had our throats cut besides.”
“But he got us into the scrape,” protested Bill.
“He hired that cut–throat to take us to this place without
saying a word to us about the business. I knew
that fellow was a rascal, and would just as lief cut a
man’s throat as eat his dinner.”
“You knew what he was, did you?”
“To be sure I did. He looked like a villain; and
I would not have trusted myself half a mile from the
shore with him without a revolver in my pocket,”
retorted Bill, who felt safe enough now that he was on
shore.
“I don’t care to hear any more of this,” interposed
the second master. “It must be half–past seven by
this time, and I am going to hurry up to the town. I
looked at an old Bradshaw on board, while I was
making up my plans, and I noticed that the night
trains generally leave at about nine o’clock. There
may be one from this place.”
“But where are you going?” asked Bark.
“It makes no manner of difference to me where I
go, if I only get as far away from Barcelona as possible,”
replied Raimundo. “The police may have
received a despatch, ordering them to arrest us at this
place.”
“Do you believe they have such an order?” asked
Bark, with deep interest.
“I do not believe it; but it may be, for all that. I
am confident no one saw the felucca take us off those
rocks. I feel tolerably safe. But, when Filipe gets
back to Barcelona, he may tell where he took us; and
some one will be on my track in Tarragona as early as
the first train from the north arrives here.”
Raimundo walked towards the town, and Bark still
kept by his side. Bill followed, for he had no intention
of being left alone by his companions. He
thought it was treason on the part of Bark to think of
such a thing as deserting him. He felt that he had
been the leader of the enterprise up to the time he
had got into the boat with the second master; and
that he had conducted Bark out of their prison, and
out of the slavery of the vessel. It would be rank
ingratitude for his fellow–conspirator to turn against
him under such circumstances; and he was surprised
that Bark did not see it in that light. As for the
second master, he did not want any thing more of
him; he did not wish to travel with him, or to have
any thing to do with him. He was an officer of the
Tritonia, one of the tyrants against whom he had
rebelled; and as such he hated him. The consciousness
that he had behaved like a poltroon in the presence
of the officer, while Bark had been a lion in
bravery, did not help the case at all. Raimundo
despised him, and took no pains to conceal his sentiments.
All Bill Stout wanted was to roam over the country
with Bark. In the boat he had imagined the “good
times” they would have when free from restraint.
They could drink and smoke, and visit the places of
amusement in Spain, while the rest of the fellows were
listening to lectures on geography and history, and visiting
old churches. His idea of life and enjoyment was
very low indeed.
After walking for half an hour in the direction of the
nearest lights, they reached the lower part of the town;
and the second master concluded that the railroad
station must be in this section. He inquired in the
street, and found they were quite near it. He was also
told that a train would leave for Alicante and Madrid
at thirty–five minutes past eight. It was only eight
then; and, seeing a store with “_A la Barcelona_” on
its sign, he knew it was a clothing–store, and the party
entered it. Raimundo bought a long cape coat which
entirely concealed his uniform. Bark and Bill purchased
overcoats, each according to his taste, that
covered up their nautical costume in part, though they
did not hide their seaman’s trousers. At another shop
they obtained caps that replaced their uniform headpieces.
With their appearance thus changed, they repaired to
the station, where Raimundo bought tickets to Valencia.
This is a seaport town, one hundred and sixty–two
miles from Tarragona. Raimundo was going there
because the train went there. His plans for the future
were not definitely arranged; but he did not wish to
dissolve his connection with the academy squadron.
He intended to return to his ship as soon as he could
safely do so, which he believed would be when the vessels
sailed from Lisbon for the “isles of the sea;” but
in this connection he was troubled about the change in
the programme which the principal had introduced
the day before, of which Hugo had informed him. If the
American Prince was to convey the Josephines and the
Tritonias to Lisbon, and bring back the Princes,—for
the several ships’ companies were called by these names,—it
was not probable that the squadron would go to
Lisbon. All hands would then have visited Portugal
and there would be no need of going there again.
Raimundo concluded that the fleet would sail on its
Atlantic voyage from Cadiz, which would save going
three hundred miles to the northward in the middle of
winter.
“Do you want first or second class tickets?” asked
Raimundo, when they stood before the ticket–office.
“A second class is good enough for me,” replied
Bill.
“What class do you take?” asked Bark.
“I shall go first class, because I think it will be
safer,” replied Raimundo. “We shall not meet so
many people.”
“Then get me a first class,” added Bark.
“Two first class and one second,” repeated the
second master.
“I’m not going alone,” snarled Bill. “Get me a
first class.”
The tickets were procured; and the party took their
places in the proper compartment, which they had all
to themselves. Bill Stout was vexed again; for, small
as the matter of the tickets was, he had once more
been overruled by the second master. He felt as
though he had no influence, instead of being the leader
of the party as he aspired to be. He was cross and
discontented. He was angry with Bark for thinking of
such a thing as deserting him. He was in just the
mood to make another fuss; and he made one.
“I think it is about time for us to settle our accounts
with you, Mr. Raimundo,” said Bark, when they were
seated in the compartment. “We owe you a good deal
by this time.”
“_Mr._ Raimundo!” exclaimed Bill, with a heavy
emphasis on the handle to the name. “Why don’t you
call me Mr. Stout, Bark?”
“Because I have not been in the habit of doing so,”
replied Bark coldly.
“We are not on board the ship now; and I think we
might as well stop toadying to anybody,” growled Bill.
“About the accounts, Mr. Raimundo,” continued
Bark, taking no further notice of his ill–natured companion.
“How much were the tickets?”
“Ninety–two _reales_ each,” replied Raimundo. “That
is four dollars and sixty cents.”
“You paid for the boat and the provisions,” added
Bark. “We will make an equal division of the whole
expense.”
“I paid five hundred _reales_ for the boat, and sixty
for the provisions.”
“You paid more than you agreed to for the boat,”
interposed Bill sulkily. “You are not going to throw
my money away like that, I can tell you.”
“I hired the boat for my own use, and I am willing
to pay the whole of the bill for it,” replied Raimundo
with dignity.
“That’s the sort of fellow you are, Bill Stout!”
exclaimed Bark indignantly.—“No matter, Mr. Raimundo;
if Bill is too mean to pay his share, I will pay
it for him. You shall pay no more than one–third anyhow.”
“I am willing to pay my fair share,” said Bill, more
disturbed than ever to find Bark against him every
time. “Then three dollars for that lunch was a swindle.”
“I had to take what I could get under the circumstances,”
added Raimundo; “but you drank most of
the wine.”
“I was not consulted about ordering it,” growled
Bill.
“If there ever was an unreasonable fellow on the
face of the footstool, you are the one, Bill Stout!”
retorted Bark vigorously. “I have had enough of you.—How
much is the whole bill for each, Mr. Raimundo?”
“An equal division makes it two hundred and
seventy–eight _reales_ and a fraction. That is thirteen
dollars and sixty cents.”
“But my money is in sovereigns.”
“Two and a half pence make a _real_. Can you figure
that in your head?”
Bark declined to do the sum in his head; but, standing
up under the dim light in the top of the compartment,
he ciphered it out on the back of an old letter.
The train had been in motion for some time, and it was
not easy to make figures; but at last he announced his
result.
“Two pounds and eighteen shillings, lacking a
penny,” said he. “Two shares will be five pounds and
sixteen shillings.”
“That is about what I had made it in my head,”
added Raimundo.
“Here are six sovereigns for Bill’s share and my
own,” continued Bark, handing him the gold.
“You needn’t pay that swindle for me,” interposed
Bill. “I shall not submit to having my money thrown
away like that.”
“Of course I shall not take it under these circumstances,”
replied the second master.
“I am willing to pay for the boat and the provisions,”
said Bill, yielding a part of the point.
Bark took no notice of him, but continued to press
the money upon Raimundo; and he finally consented
to take it on condition that a division of the loss
should be made in the future if Bill did not pay his
full share.
“You want four shillings back: here are five _pesetas_,
which just make it,” added Raimundo.
“Of course I shall pay you whatever you are out,
Bark,” said Bill, backing entirely out of his position,
which he had taken more to be ugly than because he
objected to the bill. “But I don’t like this swindle.
Here’s three sovereigns.”
“You need not pay it if you don’t want to. I did
not mean that Mr. Raimundo should be cheated out of
the money,” replied Bark.
“Stout,” said Raimundo, rising from his seat, “this
is not the first time, nor even the tenth, that you have
insulted me to–day. I will have nothing more to do
with you. You may buy your own tickets, and pay
your own bills; and we will part company as soon as
we leave this train.”
“I think I can take care of myself without any help
from you,” retorted Bill.—“Here is your money,
Bark.”
“I won’t take it,” replied Bark.
“Why not?”
“You have insulted Mr. Raimundo ever since we
started from Barcelona; and, after you say you have
been swindled, I won’t touch your money.”
“Are you going back on me, after all I have done
for you?” demanded Bill.
“What have you done for me?” asked Bark indignantly;
for this was a new revelation to him.
“I got you out of the Tritonia; didn’t I?”
“No matter: we will not jaw about any thing so
silly as that. I won’t touch your money till you have
apologized to Mr. Raimundo.”
“When I apologize to _Mr._ Raimundo, let me know
it, will you?” replied Bill, as he returned the sovereigns
to his pocket, and coiled himself away in the corner.
“That’s not my style.”
Nothing more was said; and, after a while, all of
the party went to sleep. But Bill Stout did not sleep
well, for he was too ugly to be entirely at rest. He
was awake most of the night; but, in the early morning,
he dropped off again. At seven o’clock the train
arrived at Valencia. Bill was still asleep. Raimundo
got out of the car; and Bark was about to wake his
fellow–conspirator, when the second master interposed:—
“Don’t wake him, Lingall, if you please; but come
with me. You can return in a moment.”
Bark got out of the carriage.
“I wish to leave before he wakes,” said Raimundo.
“I will go no farther with him.”
“Leave him here?” queried Bark.
“I will not even speak to him again,” added the
second master. “Of course, I shall leave you to do as
you please; though I should be glad to have you go
with me, for you have proved yourself to be a plucky
fellow and a gentleman. As it is impossible for me
to endure Stout’s company any longer, I shall have to
leave you, if you stick to him.”
“I shall not stick to him,” protested Bark. “He is
nothing but a hog,—one hundred pounds of pork.”
Bark had decided to leave Bill as soon as he could,
and now was his time. They took an omnibus for the
_Fonda del Cid_. They had not been gone more than
five minutes, before a porter woke Bill Stout, who
found that he was alone. He understood it perfectly.