[Illustration]
[Illustration: That which had come out of the east on this bright June
morning was a ship's lifeboat about eighteen feet long.--Page 4.]
JACK THE HUNCHBACK;
A STORY OF ADVENTURE ON THE
COAST OF MAINE.
BY JAMES OTIS,
_Author of "The Castaways," "A Runaway Brig,"
"Search for the Silver City," "The Treasure Finders,"
"With Lafayette at Yorktown," "With Washington at
Monmouth," "The Treasure of Cocos Island," "Wrecked on
Spider Island," etc., etc._
NEW YORK:
A. L. BURT, PUBLISHER
Copyright, 1892,
BY BRADLEY & WOODRUFF.
_All rights reserved._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ADRIFT 1
II. AT AUNT NANCY'S 14
III. LEARNING TO MILK 28
IV. PURSUED 40
V. AN ENCOUNTER 52
VI. A MENTAL STRUGGLE 64
VII. FARMER PRATT 75
VIII. A SECOND WARNING 88
IX. THE ALARM 99
X. SICKNESS 111
XI. GARDENING 122
XII. LOUIS'S ADVENTURE 137
XIII. THE SEWING CIRCLE 152
XIV. AFTER THE STORM 167
XV. BROTHER ABNER 179
XVI. A HURRIED DEPARTURE 191
XVII. CAMP MEETING 204
XVIII. A DISASTER 218
XIX. JACK'S PROPOSITION 232
XX. BILL DEAN 247
XXI. STARTLING INFORMATION 261
XXII. THE ARRIVAL 273
_JACK THE HUNCHBACK._
CHAPTER I.
ADRIFT.
Tom Pratt firmly believed he was the most unfortunate boy in Maine when,
on a certain June morning, his father sent him to the beach for a load
of seaweed.
Tom had never been in love with a farmer's life.
He fancied that in any other sphere of action he could succeed, if not
better, certainly more easily, than by weeding turnips or hoeing corn on
the not very productive farm.
But either planting or digging was preferable to loading a huge cart
with the provokingly slippery weeds which his father insisted on
gathering for compost each summer.
Therefore, when the patient oxen, after much goading and an unusual
amount of noise from their impatient driver, stood knee-deep in the surf
contentedly chewing their cuds and enjoying the cool footbath, Tom,
instead of beginning his work, sat at the forward part of the cart
gazing seaward, thinking, perhaps, how pleasant must be a sailor's life
while the ocean was calm and smiling as on this particular day.
So deeply engrossed was he in idleness that his father's stern command
from the hillside a short distance away, "to 'tend to his work an' stop
moonin'," passed unheeded, and the same ox-goad he had been using might
have been applied to his own body but for the fact that just as Farmer
Pratt came within striking distance a tiny speck on the water attracted
his attention.
"It looks to me as if that might be a lapstreak boat out there, Tommy.
Can you see anybody in her?"
"I reckon that's what it is, father, an' she must be adrift."
Farmer Pratt mounted the cart and scrutinized the approaching object
until there could no longer be any question as to what it was, when Tom
said gleefully,--
"It must be a ship's boat, an' if she hasn't got a crew aboard, we'll
make a bigger haul than we could by cartin' seaweed for a week."
"Yes, them kind cost more'n a dory," the farmer replied dreamily, as he
mentally calculated the amount of money for which she might be sold. "I
reckon we'll take her into Portland an' get a tidy--"
"I can see a feller's head!" Tom interrupted, "an' it shets off our
chance of sellin' her."
That the boat had an occupant was evident.
A closely shaven crown appeared above the stem as if its owner had but
just awakened, and was peering out to see where his voyage was about to
end.
Nearer and nearer the little craft drifted until she was dancing on the
shore line of the surf, and the figure in the bow gazed as intently
landward as the farmer and his son did seaward.
"It's a boy, father, an' he ain't as big as me!" Tom cried. "Well, that
beats anything I ever saw!"
This last remark probably referred to the general appearance of the
young voyager.
He was an odd-looking little fellow, with a head which seemed unusually
small because the hair was closely cropped, and a bent, misshapen body
several sizes too large for the thin legs which barely raised it above
the gunwales. The face was by no means beautiful, but the expression of
anxiety and fear caused it to appeal directly to Tom's heart, if not to
his father's.
Farmer Pratt was not pleased at thus learning that the boat had an
occupant.
Empty, she would have been a source of profit; but although there was
apparently no one save the deformed lad aboard, he could make no legal
claim upon her.
The craft was there, however, and would speedily be overturned unless he
waded out into the surf at the risk of a rheumatic attack, to pull her
inshore.
Although decidedly averse to performing any charitable deed, he did this
without very much grumbling, and Tom was a most willing assistant.
That which had come out of the east on this bright June morning was a
ship's lifeboat about eighteen feet long, and with the name "Atlanta"
painted on the gunwales.
She was a much more valuable craft than Mr. Pratt had ever seen ashore
on Scarborough beach, and yet he failed to calculate her value
immediately, because as the bow grated on the sand the misshapen boy,
from whose white lips not a word had escaped during all this time,
suddenly lifted what at first appeared to be a bundle of cloth.
This act in itself would not have caused any surprise, but at the same
moment a familiar noise was heard from beneath the coverings.
Farmer Pratt stepped back quickly in genuine alarm and wiped his face
with the sleeve of his shirt as he exclaimed,--
"Well, this beats anything I ever seen!"
"It's a baby, father!" Tom cried, starting forward to take the burden
from the crooked little sailor's arms; but the latter retreated as if
afraid the child was to be carried away, and the farmer replied
testily,--
"Of course it's a baby. Haven't I heard you cry often enough to know
that?"
"But how did it come here?"
"That's what beats me"; and then, as if suddenly realizing that the
apparent mystery might be readily solved, he asked the stranger, "Where
did you come from, sonny?"
"From Savannah."
"Sho! Why, that's way down in Georgy. You didn't sail them many miles in
this 'ere little boat?"
"No, sir. We broke adrift from Captain Littlefield's ship yesterday when
she blowed up, an' the baby's awful hungry."
"Ship blowed up, eh? Whereabouts was she?"
"Out there"; and the boy pointed eastward in an undecided manner, as if
not exactly certain where he had come from.
"What made her blow up?" Tom asked curiously.
"I don't know. There was an awful splosion like more'n a hundred bunches
of firecrackers, an' the captain put Louis an' me in the lifeboat to
wait till his wife got some things from the cabin. While all the sailors
was runnin' 'round wild like, we got adrift. I hollered an' hollered,
but nobody saw us." Then he added in a lower tone, "Louis cried last
night for somethin' to eat, an' he must be pretty hungry now."
"Well, well, well!" and as the thought of whether he would be paid for
the trouble of pulling the boat ashore came into the farmer's mind, he
said quickly, "'Cordin' to that you don't own this boat?"
"She belongs to the ship."
"An' seein's how the vessel ain't anywhere near, I reckon I've as much
right to this craft as anybody else. Where do you count on goin'?"
"If we could only get back to New York I'm sure I would be able to find
the captain's house."
"It's a powerful long ways from here, sonny; but I'll see that you are
put in a comfortable place till somethin' can be done. What's your
name?"
"John W. Dudley; but everybody calls me Jack, an' this is Louis
Littlefield," the boy replied as he removed the coverings, exposing to
view a child about two years old.
Master Tom was delighted with the appearance of the little pink and
white stranger, who was dressed in cambric and lace, with a thin gold
chain around his neck, and would have shaken hands with him then and
there if Jack had not stepped quickly back as he said,--
"He's afraid of folks he don't know, an' if you get him to cryin' I'll
have a worse time than last night. What he wants is somethin' to eat."
"Take 'em right up to the house, Tommy, an' tell mother to give them
breakfast. When I get the boat hauled around (for I've got every reason
to consider her mine), I'll carry both out to Thornton's."
Jack clambered from the craft, disdaining Tom's assistance, and, taking
the child in his arms, much as a small cat might carry a very large
kitten, stood waiting for his guide to lead the way.
Farmer Pratt's son was in no especial hurry to reach home, for while
escorting the strangers he certainly could not be expected to shovel
seaweed, and Jack said as Tom walked leisurely over the hot sand,--
"If you don't go faster, the baby'll begin to cry, for he's pretty near
starved."
"Why not let him walk? He's big enough; his legs are twice as large as
Mrs. Libby's baby, an' he went alone a good while ago."
"I'd rather carry him," Jack replied; and then he refused to enter into
any conversation until they were at the foot of the narrow, shady lane
leading to the house, when he asked, "Who's Mr. Thornton?"
"He keeps the poor farm, an' father's goin' to take you out there."
"What for? We want to go to New York."
"Well, you see I don't reckon you'll get as far as that without a slat
of money, an' father wants to put you fellers where you'll be took care
of for a while."
Jack stopped suddenly, allowed the baby to slip from his arms under the
shade of an apple-tree whose blossoms filled the air with perfume, as he
said angrily,--
"Louis sha'n't be taken to the poorhouse! I'll walk my feet off before
anybody but his mother shall get him."
"You couldn't go as far as New York, an' if he's so hungry you'd better
let him have some bread an' milk."
"How long before your father'll be back?"
"It'll take him a couple of hours to carry the boat down to the Neck,
an' that's the only place where she can lie without gettin' stove."
"Then we'll go into your house long enough to feed the baby, an' I'll
leave before he comes."
"All right," and Tom took up the line of march once more. "I don't know
as I blame you, for Thornton's ain't the nicest place that ever was, an'
I'd rather haul seaweed for a month than stay there one night."
Jack looked wistfully at the little farmhouse with its beds of old
maid's pinks and bachelor's buttons in front of the muslin-curtained
windows, thinking, perhaps, that shelter should be given him there
rather than among the town's paupers; but he made no remark, and a few
moments later they were standing in the cool kitchen while Tom explained
to his mother under what circumstances he had made the acquaintance of
the strangers.
Mrs. Pratt was quite as economical as her husband; but the baby face
touched her heart fully as much as did the fact that the boat in which
the children had drifted ashore would amply repay any outlay in the way
of food and shelter.
She accepted the statement made by Tom, that the children were to be
sent to Thornton's, because the town provided such an asylum, and there
was no good reason, in her mind at least, why it should not be utilized
in a case like this.
Thus, with the pleasing knowledge that her involuntary guests would
remain but a short time and cost her nothing, she set out a plentiful
supply of fresh milk and sweet home-made bread, as she said,--
"Fill yourselves right full, children, for it will rest you to eat, and
after you've had a nice ride, Mrs. Thornton will give you a chance to
sleep."
Jack looked up quickly as if about to make an angry reply, and then, as
little Louis went toward the table eagerly, he checked himself, devoting
all his attention to the child by waiting until the latter had finished
before he partook of as much as a spoonful.
Then he ate rapidly, and after emptying two bowls of milk, asked,--
"May I put some of the bread in my pocket?'"
"Certainly, child; but it won't be needed, for there is plenty to eat at
Thornton's, and most likely in a few days the selectmen will find some
way to send word to the baby's relatives."
Jack put three slices of bread in his pocket before replying, and then,
as with an effort he lifted Louis in his arms, said,--
"We're not goin' to the poor farm, ma'am. We are bound to get to New
York, an' thank you for the bread an' milk."
Just at that moment Mrs. Pratt was intent on carrying the dishes from
the table to the pantry, therefore she did not see the deformed boy
leave the house quickly, Tom following close behind.
Jack heard her call after him to wait until Mr. Pratt should return; but
he shook his head decidedly, and trudged out from the green-carpeted
lane to the dusty road, bent only on saving his little charge from
the ignominy of the poorhouse.
"Say, hold on for father!" Tom cried. "You can't walk even so far as
Saco, an' where'll you sleep to-night?"
"I'd rather stay in the woods, an' so had Louis," Jack replied; and then
in reply to the child's fretful cries, he added, "Don't fuss; I'll find
your mother."
"But how can you do it if the ship has blowed up?" Tom asked, quickening
his steps to keep pace with the deformed boy. "Perhaps mother'll let you
sleep in my bed to-night, an' you won't have to go out to the poor
farm."
"And then again she mightn't, so I guess we won't risk it."
"Have you got any money?"
"Not a cent."
Tom halted irresolutely for a moment, and then his charitable impulses
gained the mastery.
"Here's half of what I've got, an' I wish it was more."
Involuntarily Jack extended his hand for the gift.
Four marbles were dropped into it, and then Tom turned and ran like a
deer as if afraid he might regret his generosity.
The dusty road wound its way among the fields like a yellow ribbon on a
green cloth, offering no shelter from the burning rays of the sun, and
stretching out in a dreary length.
The hunchback plodded steadily on with his heavy burden, and as he
walked the good people in the neighboring city of Portland were reading
in their morning papers the following item:--
A SINGULAR EXPLOSION.
The ship "Atlanta" anchored inside the breakwater just before
midnight, and her master reports a remarkable accident.
The "Atlanta" loaded at Savannah last week with cotton and
turpentine, bound for Bremen. Owing to baffling winds she was
eighty miles off Wood Island yesterday afternoon when an explosion
occurred which blew off the main hatch, and was followed by dense
volumes of what appeared to be smoke.
Believing the ship to be on fire, Capt. Littlefield's first thought
was of his wife and child, who were on board. The lifeboat was
lowered, and in her were placed the captain's son and the cabin
boy, a hunchback.
Before Mrs. Littlefield could be gotten over the side, the sailors
reported no fire in the hold, and the vapor supposed to be smoke
was probably the gases arising from the turpentine stored in porous
barrels of red oak.
In the excitement no particular attention was paid to the children
for some time, since the boat was believed to be firmly secured,
and the consternation of the captain can be imagined when it was
discovered that the craft had gone adrift.
The ship stood off and on several hours without discovering any
signs of the missing ones, and was then headed for this harbor.
As a matter of course the captain will be obliged to proceed on his
voyage without delay; but Mrs. Littlefield is to remain in town
several days hoping to receive some news of her child, and it is
believed that the revenue cutter "Cushing" will cruise along the
shore until the boat is found.
It is understood that a liberal reward will be offered for any
information which may be given regarding the whereabouts of the
children, and until that has been done the editors of this paper
will thankfully receive tidings of the missing ones in case they
have been seen or sighted.
It is particularly desirable that masters of vessels should keep a
sharp lookout for a drifting boat.