does the case stand? Here's a lot of crazy _hombres_ e'en a'most ready
to fight for her. 'Twould cost a fortin to get her ready for sea. Her
bottom's foul as a cow-yard; some of her copper's torn off; upper
works rotten; she needs calkin', paintin', new riggin', new----"
"There, hold on!" cried Charley, laughing heartily at Bill's truly
formidable catalogue of wants; "I give in. I vote to lease the old
barky by the month--that is, if Walt here thinks as I do."
"In for a penny, in for a pound," Walter assented decisively.
So the bargain was concluded before the cargo was half out of the
ship, so eager was the lessee to get possession. Walter drew up the
lease, a month's rent was paid in advance, and the thing was done.
"Well, now, boys, that's off our minds," said Charley gleefully; "my
head's been turning round like a buzz-saw ever since this thing's been
talked about."
"And a good job, too, seein' as how we skipped without a clearance,"
Bill put in quietly.
The two friends looked at him blankly, then at each other. It was
plain that no such matter had ever entered their minds. Charley gave a
long, low whistle. "By George, I never thought of that!" he exclaimed,
in great ill humor with Bill. "What'll they do to us?"
"No use cryin' over spilt milk," said that worthy. "Keep dark's our
lay. Didn't Noah's Ark sail without a clearance, without papers or
flag, and for no port?" he added.
"We 'cleared out,' as the sayin' is, with a vengeance," Charley
remarked, trying to turn the matter off with a joke.
"There's only one thing for us to do," said Walter, "and that is to
go right up to the custom-house and explain matters to the collector,
when we get back to the Bay. Perhaps he'll let us off with a fine,
when he finds we didn't mean to run away with the ship and turn
pirates."
The idea of turning the old, water-logged _Southern Cross_ into a
pirate was so comical that all three joined in a hearty laugh.
What to do with all their money was the most perplexing question.
They could neither eat nor sleep for thinking of it. In every face
they saw a thief, every footstep startled them. In their dilemma it
was determined that the safer way would be to divide it up between
them. Three miner's belts were therefore procured, and after locking
themselves up in the cabin the three friends stuffed these belts
as full as they would hold with the precious metal. But there was
still a good-sized pile left to be disposed of when this was done,
so Bill suggested sewing the remainder in their shirts. At it they
went, without more words, sitting meantime in their trousers and
undershirts; and a truly comical sight was this original sewing
circle, stitching away for dear life under lock and key.
But even when this operation was finished, a heap of the shining metal
still lay on the table before them. All were so weighed down with
what they had about them that they waddled rather than walked. Bill
declared that if anything happened to the boat at their returning they
would all sink to the bottom like so much lead. While thus at their
wits' end, Charley's eagle eye chanced to fall upon an old fowling
piece hung up by some hooks in the cabin. This was quickly torn from
its resting place, the charges drawn, and while the others looked on
in silent wonder Charley filled both barrels with gold dust, after
which the muzzles were tightly fitted with corks. "She's loaded for
big game. We take turns carryin' her, don't you see?" he remarked
with a broad grin.
Towards dusk the trio took passage on board the first boat bound for
the Bay, nor did they feel themselves wholly safe with their treasure
until they once more trod the deck of the old _Argonaut_, fairly worn
out with a week of such rapidly shifting fortunes as no one but an old
Californian has ever experienced.
The three inseparables were snugly rolled up in their blankets, Bill
loudly snoring in his bunk, when the distant booming of a gun caused
Walter to raise his head and say drowsily, "Hello! a steamer's in."
"I don't care if there's twenty steamers," Charley yawned, at the same
time burying his nose still deeper under his blanket; "I was almost
gone and now you've made me begin all over again. All ashore that's
goin' ashore."
XIX
HEARTS OF GOLD
Mr. Bright came in that steamer. As Walter's letter seemed to hold
out fair hopes of recovering some part of the _Southern Cross_ and
her cargo, the merchant had decided to look into the matter himself,
though in truth both he and his partners had long regarded the venture
as a dead loss.
Had he suddenly dropped from the clouds, the _Argonaut's_ little
company could not have been more astonished than when the merchant
stepped on deck, smiling benignantly at the evident consternation he
thus created.
After a hearty greeting all round, though poor Walter turned all
colors at the remembrance of how and where they had last met, Mr.
Bright began by explaining that he had found them out through the
consignee of the _Southern Cross_. "But where in the world is the
_Southern Cross_?" he asked. "Here has the boatman been rowing me
around for the last hour, trying to find her. Nothing has happened to
her, I hope," he hastily added, observing the friends exchanging sly
glances.
This question, of course, led to an explanation from Walter, during
which the old merchant's face was a study. His first look of annoyance
soon changed to one of blank amazement, finally settling down into
a broad smile of complete satisfaction when the story was all told.
Then he shook his gray head as if the problem was quite too knotty for
him to solve, how these boys, hardly out of their teens, should have
dared, first to engage in such a brilliant transaction, and then have
succeeded in carrying it through to the end without a hitch.
"Pretty well for beginners, I must say," he finally declared. "Taken
altogether that's about the boldest operation I ever heard of, and
I've known a few in my experience as a business man. But," looking at
Walter, "where's all this money? Quite safe, I hope."
By way of answer, the young men brought out their treasure from
various ingenious hiding-places, the fowling piece included. When all
the belts and parcels of dust were piled in a heap on the table, Mr.
Bright sat for some time with his hand over his eyes without speaking.
What the merchant's thoughts were it were vain to guess. Finally he
said, "You seem to have done everything for the best. Bill here was
quite right about the ship. She is earning something where she is, at
least. Now about the cargo?" turning to Walter; "I think you said in
your letter that Charley here bought half of that in?"
Walter gave a nod of assent.
"Why, then," resumed Mr. Bright, "as the other half belongs to his
partner, I don't see that we've anything to do with this money.
Perhaps we may compromise as to the ship," he added, looking at
Charley.
Charley then explained his agreement with his partner, who had so
mysteriously disappeared. "I sold out to Walter. Settle it with him,"
he finished, jamming his hands in his pockets and turning away.
"Well, then, Walter, what do you say?"
"I say that Charley ought to have half the profits. Why, when I wrote
you, the lumber was worthless. Besides, Charley did all the business.
Settle it with him."
"I see. The situation was changed from a matter of a few hundreds to
thousands shortly after your letter was written." Walter nodded. "And
you don't care to take advantage of it?" Walter simply folded his
arms defiantly. "But between you you saved the cargo," the merchant
rejoined. "We've no claim. You must come to terms. Was there no
writing?"
Walter scowled fiercely at Charley, who, notwithstanding, immediately
produced his copy of the agreement. The merchant glanced over it with
a smile hovering on his lips.
"Why, this is perfectly good," he declared. "Well, then, as neither of
you has a proposition to make, I'll make you one. Perhaps Walter here
felt under a moral obligation to look after our interests in spite of
the unjust treatment he had received. That I can now understand, and I
ask his pardon. But you, Charles, had no such inducement."
"No inducement!" Charley broke out, with a quivering lip; "no
inducement, heh, to see that boy righted?" he repeated, struggling
hard to keep down the lump in his throat.
"Axin' pardons don't mend no broken crockery," observed Bill gruffly.
Mr. Bright showed no resentment at this plain speech. He sat wiping
his glasses in deep thought. Perhaps there was just a little moisture
in his own eyes, over this evidence of two hearts linked together as
in bands of steel.
The silence was growing oppressive, when Walter nerved himself to say:
"You see, sir, Charley and me, we are of one mind. As for me, I'm
perfectly satisfied to take what I put in to fit Charley out, provided
you pay him back his investment, and what's right for his and Bill's
time and trouble."
Charley coughed a little at this liberal proposal, but Walter signed
to him to keep quiet. Bill grunted out something that might pass for
consent.
But Mr. Bright was not the man to take advantage of so much
generosity. In truth, he had already formed in his own mind a plan by
which to come to an agreement. Changing the subject for the moment, he
suddenly asked, "By the way, have you never heard anything of Ramon?"
At this unexpected question a broad grin stole over the faces of the
three kidnapers. "I was coming to that," Walter replied, bringing out
from his chest the money and papers which Ramon had been so lately
compelled to disgorge. The merchant took them in his hands, ran his
eye rapidly over them, and exclaimed in astonishment, "What! did he
make this restitution of his own accord? Wonders will never cease, I
declare."
"Well, no, sir, not exactly that; the truth is, he was a trifle
obstinate about it at first, but we found a way to persuade him. That
confession was signed in the very same chair you are now sitting in."
Mr. Bright again said, with a sigh of deep satisfaction, "Marvelous!
We shall now pay everything we owe, except our debt to you, Walter;
that we can never pay."
"If my good name is cleared, I'm perfectly satisfied," Walter
rejoined, a little nervously, yet with a feeling that this was the
happiest day of his life.
"And his good name, too, why don't you say?' interrupted the
matter-of-fact Bill, from his corner. "Seems to me that's about the
size of it," he finished, casting a meaning look at the dignified old
merchant, who sat there twiddling his glasses, clearly oppressed by
the feeling that, as between himself and Walter, Walter had acted the
nobler part. He could hardly control a slight tremor in his voice when
he began to speak again.
"I see how it is," he said. "You return good for evil. It was nobly
done, I grant you--nobly done. But you must not wonder at my surprise,
for I own I expected nothing of the sort. Still, all the generosity
must not be on one side. By no means. Since I've sat here I've been
thinking that now we are embarked in the California trade, we couldn't
do better than to start a branch of the concern in this city. Now,
don't interrupt," raising an admonitory hand, "until you hear me
through. If you, Walter, and you, Charles, in whom I have every
confidence--if you two will accept an equal partnership, your actual
expenses to be paid at any rate, we will put all the profits of this
lumber trade of yours into the new house to start with. Suppose we
call it Bright, Seabury & Company. Fix that to suit yourselves, only
my name ought to stand first, I think, because it will set Walter here
right before the world."
Neither Walter nor Charley could have said one word for the life of
him, so much were they taken by surprise. Bill's eyes fairly bulged
out of his shaggy head. Mr. Bright went on to say, "With our credit
restored, we can send you all the goods you may want. Suppose we now
go and deposit this money--one-half to the new firm's credit, one half
in trust for Charles' former partner. I myself will put a notice of
the copartnership in to-morrow's papers, and as soon as I get home in
the Boston papers, and I should greatly like to see the new sign up
before I go."
It was a long speech, but never was one listened to with more rapt
attention. Charley turned as red as a beet, Walter hung his head, Bill
blew his nose for a full half-minute.
"Where does Bill come in?" he demanded, with a comical side glance at
the merchant.
His question, with the long face he put on, relieved the strain at
once.
"Oh, never fear, old chap; you shall have my place and pay on the old
ship," Charley hastened to assure him.
"Then you accept," said Mr. Bright, shaking hands with each of the new
partners in turn. "Something tells me that this is the best investment
of my life. The papers shall be made out to-day, while we are looking
up a store together. Really, now, I feel as if I ought to give a
little dinner in honor of the new firm--long life and prosperity to
it! Where shall it be?"
"What ails this 'ere old ship where the old house came to life agin,
an' the new babby wuz fust born inter the world?" was Bill's ready
suggestion.
"Capital! couldn't be better," exclaimed the merchant. "And now,"
taking out his notebook, "tell me what I can do for each of you
personally when I get back to the States?"
Walter spoke first. "Please look up my old aunty, and see her made
comfortable." Mr. Bright jotted down the address with an approving
nod, then looked up at Charley.
"Send out a couple of donkey engines; horses are too slow."
Mr. Bright then turned to Bill.
"Me? Oh, well, I've got no aunt, I've no use for donkeys. You might
lick that sneakin' perleeceman on the wharf an' send me his resate."
When the two young men took leave of Mr. Bright, on board the _John L.
Stephens_, after a hearty hand-shaking all round, that gentleman gave
them this parting advice: "Make all the friends you can, and keep them
if you can. Remember, nothing is easier than to make enemies."
At a meaning look from Walter, Charley withdrew himself out of
earshot. Walter fidgeted a little, blushed, and then managed to ask,
"Have I your permission to write to Miss Dora, sir?"
Mr. Bright looked surprised, then serious, then amused. "Oho! now I
begin to catch on. That's how the land lies, is it? So that was the
reason why you were prowling around our house one night after dark,
was it? Well, well! Certainly you may write to Dora. And by the way,
when next you pass through our street you may ring the doorbell."
XX
BRIGHT, SEABURY & COMPANY
Thus the new firm entered upon its future career with bright
prospects. A suitable warehouse on the waterfront was leased for a
term of years. True to their determination to stick together, the two
junior partners fitted up a room in the second story, and on the day
that the doors were first opened for business they moved in. The next
thing was to get some business to do.
Charley had a considerable acquaintance among the ranchmen across
the Bay, which he now improved by making frequent trips to solicit
consignments of country produce. The sight of an empty store and bare
walls was at first depressing, but their first shipments from the East
could not be expected for several months. There was a sort of tacit
understanding that Walter should attend to the financial end of the
business, while Charley took care of the outdoor concerns. They were
no longer boys. The sense of assumed responsibilities had made them
men.
The two partners were busy receiving a sloop-load of potatoes,
with their shirt sleeves rolled up, when a big, burly, bewhiskered
individual dropped in upon them. Scenting a customer, Charley, always
forward, briskly asked what they could do for him.
"I want to see the senior partner."
Charley nodded toward Walter, who was checking off the weights.
The man gave a quick look at the tall, straight young fellow before
him, then said, "Can I speak to you in private for five minutes?"
"Come this way," Walter replied, showing the stranger into the little
office.
The newcomer sat down, crossed one leg over the other, stroked his
long beard reflectively a little, and said, "I've come on a very
confidential matter. Can I depend upon the strictest privacy?"
"You may," said Walter, quite astonished at this rather unexpected
opening. "Nobody will interrupt us here."
The man cast an inquisitive look around, as if to make sure there were
no eavesdroppers near, then, lowering his voice almost to a whisper,
said pointedly, "You may have heard something about a plan to aid the
poor, oppressed natives of Nicaragua to throw off the tyrannical yoke
of their present rulers?"
"I've seen something to that effect in the papers," said Walter
evasively.
"So much the better. That clears the way of cobwebs. I want your
solemn promise that what passes between us shall not be divulged to a
human being."
"I have no business secrets from my partners," Walter objected.
"Your partners! Oh! of course not."
"I've already promised," Walter assented, more and more mystified by
the stranger's manner. "Nobody asked you for your secrets. You can do
as you like about telling them," he continued rather sharply.
"I'll trust you. You are a young concern. Well connected. Bang-up
references. Likely to get on top of the heap, and nat'rally want to
make a strike. Nothing like seizing upon a golden opportunity. 'There
is a tide'--you know the rest. Now, I'm just the man to put you in the
way of doing it, as easy as rolling off a log."
As Walter made no reply, the visitor, after waiting a moment for his
words to take effect, went on: "Now, listen. I don't mind telling
you, in the strictest confidence, then, that I'm fiscal agent for
this here enterprise. I'm in it for glory and the _dinero_. We want
some enterprising young firm like yours to furnish supplies for the
emigrants we're sending down there," jerking his head toward the
south. "There's a big pile in it for you, if you will take hold with
us and see the thing through."
Walter kept his eyes upon the speaker, but said nothing.
"You see, it's a perfectly legitimate transaction, don't you?" resumed
the fiscal agent a little anxiously.
"Then why so much secrecy?"
"Oh! there's always a lot of people prying round into what don't
concern them. Busybodies! If it gets out that our people aren't
peaceable emigrants before we're good and ready, the whole thing might
get knocked into a cocked hat. They'd say--well, they even might call
us filibusters," the man admitted with an injured air.
Walter smiled a knowing smile. "What do you want us to do?" he asked.
"In the first place, we want cornmeal, hard bread, bacon, potatoes,
an' sich, for a hundred and fifty men for two months. I can give you
the figures to a dot," the agent rejoined, on whom Walter's smile had
not been lost. "See here." He drew out of his pocket a package of
freshly printed bonds, purporting to be issued by authority of the
Republic of Nicaragua, and passed them over for Walter's inspection.
"Now, the fact is, we want all our ready funds for the people's
outfit, advance money, vessel's charter, and so on. Now, I'm going to
be liberal with you. I'll put up this bunch of twenty thousand dollars
in bonds, payable on the day Nicaragua is free, for five thousand
dollars' worth of provisions at market price. Think of that! Twenty
thousand dollars for five thousand dollars. You can't lose. We've got
things all fixed down there. Why, man, there's silver and gold and
jewels enough in the churches alone to pay those bonds ten times over!"
"What! rob the churches!" Walter exclaimed, knitting his brows.
"Why, no; I believe they call that merely a forced loan nowadays,"
objected the fiscal agent in some embarrassment.
Seeing that he paused for a reply, Walter observed that he would
consult his partner. Charley was called in and the proposal gone over
again with him. As soon as advised of its purport he turned on his
heel.
"Not any in mine," was his prompt decision.
"Mine either," assented Walter.
The stranger seemed much disappointed, but not yet at the end of his
resources. "Well, then," he began again, "you take the bonds, sell
them for a fair discount for cash, and use the proceeds towards those
provisions?"
"Hadn't you better do that yourself? We're not brokers. We're
commission merchants. If you come to us with cash in hand we'll sell
you anything money will buy, and no questions asked; but Nicaragua
bonds, payable any time and no time, are not in our line." So said
Walter.
"Not much," echoed Charley.
"Your line seems to be small potatoes," muttered the stranger
testily. Then quickly checking himself, he carelessly asked, "I
suppose you'd have no objection to keeping these bonds in your
safe for a day or two for me, giving me a receipt for them, or the
equivalent? I don't feel half easy about carrying them about with me."
"Why, no," said Charley, looking at Walter, to see how he would take
it.
"Yes," objected Walter, "most decidedly."
"'No;' 'yes;' who's boss here, anyhow?" sneered the agent, dismissing
his wheedling tone, now that he had played his last card. Even Charley
seemed a trifle nettled at being snubbed by Walter in the presence of
a stranger. After all, it seemed a trifling favor to ask of them.
"My partner and I can settle that matter between ourselves. Once for
all, we don't choose to be mixed up in your filibustering schemes in
any way. Your five minutes have grown to three-quarters of an hour
already. This is our busy day," he concluded, as a broad hint to the
stranger to take leave, and at once.
"Very well," said the unmoved fiscal agent, buttoning up his coat.
"But you'll repent, all the same, having thrown away the finest
opportunity of making a fortune ever offered----"
"This way out, sir," Charley interrupted, throwing wide the office
door.
When the strange visitor had gone Charley asked Walter why he refused
to let the bonds be put in the safe. "Now we've made an enemy," he
said resignedly.
"To let him raise money on that receipt for twenty thousand dollars,
_or equivalent_--on Mr. Bright's name? No, sir-ee. Where were your
wits, Charles Wormwood? That fellow's a sharper!"
"Guess I'd better attend to those potatoes," was all the junior
partner could find to say, suiting the action to the word.
As was quite natural, much curiosity was felt as to what had become
of Ramon, by his former business associates. In some way he had found
out that Mr. Bright was in San Francisco, and taking counsel of his
fears of being sent back to Boston as a confessed felon, he cast his
lot among the most lawless adventurers of the day. Learning that a
filibustering expedition was being fitted out at San Francisco against
Lower California, under command of Walker, the "Gray-eyed Man of
Destiny," Ramon joined it, keeping in hiding meanwhile, until the
vessel was ready to sail. As is well known, the affair was a complete
failure, Walker's famished band being compelled to surrender to the
United States officers at San Diego. From this time Ramon disappeared.
* * * * *
Some five years later a young man, ruddy-cheeked, robust, and well
though not foppishly dressed, drove up to the door of a pretty cottage
in one of the most fashionable suburbs of Boston. Alighting from his
buggy and hitching his horse, he walked quickly up the driveway to the
house. The front door flew open by the time he had put his hand on the
knob; and a young woman, with the matchless New England pink and white
in her cheeks, called out, "Why, Walter, what brings you home so early
to-day? Has anything happened?"
"Yes, Dora; Charles Wormwood is coming out to dine with us to-day. He
only arrived to-day overland. I want to show him my wife."
THE END
The transcriber made these changes to the text:
1. p. 152, "the the certificate" changed to "the certificate"
2. p. 224, "eend" changed to "end"
3. p. 246, "Charlay" changed to "Charley"
4. p. 281, "dimissing" changed to "dismissing"
End of Project Gutenberg's The Young Vigilantes, by Samuel Adams Drake