THE DESERTERS.
By the aid of the block and tackle which Eugene had rigged over the
fore-hatchway, the provisions were lowered through the galley into the
hold, where they were stowed away so snugly that they would not be thrown
about by the pitching of the vessel. This done, the hatch that led
into the hold was closed and fastened. Perk, remembering who had come
through there a short time before, put down the hatch himself, stamping
it into its place, and securing the bar with the padlock—the fore-hatch
was closed and battened down, the block and tackle stowed away in their
proper place, and things began to look ship-shape once more.
The foremast hands, as Eugene called himself and companions, who did not
hold office, gathered in the standing room to converse; Walter and Chase
planked the weather-side of the deck, the former linking his arm through
that of his lieutenant, and talking and laughing with him as though they
had always been fast friends; a fire was crackling away merrily in the
galley stove; and Perk, divested of his coat, his sleeves rolled up to
his shoulders, revealing arms as brown and muscular as Uncle Dick’s, was
superintending the cooking of the “skouse” and “dough-boy,” and singing
at the top of his voice, the words of an old but favorite song of the
Clubs:
“The land of my home is flitting, flitting from my view;
The gale in the sail is setting, toils the merry crew.”
He roared out the following lines with more than his usual energy:
“Here let my home be, on the waters wide;
I heed not your anger, for Maggie’s by my side.
My own loved Maggie dear, sitting by my side;
Maggie dear, my own love, sitting by my side.”
Perk knew a Maggie—only her name was Ella—to whom he used to send
valentines and invitations to barbecues and boat-rides, but she was not
sitting by his side just then, and consequently we doubt if he would have
been quite willing to make his home there on the waters wide, even though
he had the yacht for a shelter and the Club for companions. The Maggie of
whom Perk was thinking was safe at home in Bellville. She knew that her
stalwart admirer was tossing about somewhere on the Gulf, and in spite of
her fears for his safety she would have laughed could she have seen him
at his present occupation.
“Mind what you are about, Eugene,” said Walter, shaking his finger
warningly at his brother. “Handle her easy. Perk’s in the galley, and
that’s a guaranty that there’s something good coming out of there. If you
go to knocking things about and spoiling his arrangements, I’ll put you
in the brig.”
“Very good, Commodore,” replied Eugene, touching his hat with mock
civility, and giving his trowsers a hitch with one elbow; “I want some of
that hot coffee as much as anybody does, sir, even if there is no cream
to put in it; and I’ll make her ride every wave without a tremble, sir.”
Although the young sailors had eaten a hearty lunch not more than three
hours before, they were quite ready for dinner, even such a dinner as
could be served up out of plain ship’s fare. But the principal reason
why Perk was ordered below as soon as the provisions were received, was
because his services were not then needed on deck, and it was a favorable
time to build a fire in the galley while the Gulf was comparatively
smooth—that is, the Club thought it comparatively smooth, although a boy
unaccustomed to the water would have thought that the yacht was going to
roll over and sink out of sight every minute. But the probabilities were
that in an hour things would be even worse. The storm that was coming
up so slowly and surely promised to be a hard one and a long one; and
the dinner that Perk was now serving up might be the last warm meal they
would have for a day or two.
Perk’s song arose louder and louder, a sure sign that the summons to
dinner would not be long delayed. The savory smell of cooking viands
came up from below every time the cabin door was opened, and the boys
in the standing room snuffed up their noses, said “Ah!” in deep bass
voices, and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on in the galley.
The jingling of iron rods was heard in the cabin as the table was lowered
to its place, then the rattling of dishes, and finally three long-drawn
whistles, in imitation of a boatswain’s pipe, announced that the meal was
ready. Chase, Wilson and Bab answered the call, leaving Walter and his
brother to care for the yacht. In half an hour they returned to the deck
looking very much pleased and refreshed, and when Perk gave three more
whistles Walter and Eugene went below.
“Any orders, captain?” asked Chase, who did not like the idea of being
left in charge of the deck even for a minute.
“Follow in the wake of the smuggling vessel,” replied Walter. “That’s
all.”
If the sight that greeted Walter’s eyes as he went below would have
been a pleasing one to a hungry boy under ordinary circumstances, it
was doubly so to one who had stood for hours in wet clothing, exposed
to the full fury of a cutting north-west wind. The cabin was warm and
comfortable, the dishes clean and white, the viands smoking hot, and
Walter, Perk and Eugene did ample justice to them. When the meal was
finished, the two brothers lent a hand in clearing away the table and
washing the dishes; and after the galley stove had been replenished,
they, in company with Perk, stretched themselves out on the lee-locker
and went to sleep. It seemed to the young captain that he had scarcely
closed his eyes when he was aroused by a voice. He started up and saw
Bab, whose clothes were dripping with water, lighting the lamps in the
cabin. “Why, it isn’t dark, is it?” asked Walter.
“It is growing dark. You’ve had a glorious sleep, but you had better roll
out now and see to things, for poor Chase is in a peck of trouble. It’s
come.”
“What has?”
“Can’t you hear it and feel it? Rain and sleet, and wind, and such an
ugly, chopping sea. It is coming harder every minute.”
That was very evident. The howling of the storm could be plainly heard
in the cabin, and the pitching and straining of the yacht as she labored
through the waves, told Walter that it was indeed high time he was taking
matters into his own hands. Hastily arousing his sleeping companions, he
went into the galley for some of his clothing, which he had left there
to dry, and in a few minutes, equipped in pea-jacket, gloves, muffler
and heavy boots, went up to face the storm. It was already dark, and the
rain, freezing as it fell, was coming down in torrents.
“Where’s the schooner?” asked Walter.
“I lost sight of her just after I sent Bab down to call you,” replied
Chase. “My only fear is that we shall not be able to find her again.”
“I have no hopes of it,” replied Walter. “We’ll take an observation
to-morrow if the sun comes out, and hold straight for Havana. Call those
fellows up from the cabin, and after we’ve made everything secure, go
below and turn in for the night. There’s a good fire in the galley.”
The crew were quickly summoned to the deck, and in the face of blinding
rain and sleet, proceeded to carry out the orders which Walter shouted at
them through his trumpet. In twenty minutes more Chase and his drenched
companions were enjoying the genial warmth of the galley stove, and the
Banner, relieved of the strain upon her, and guided by the hands of her
skilful young captain, who stood at the wheel, was riding the waves as
gracefully as a sea-gull.
At eight o’clock the boys below, warmed and dried, and refreshed by the
pot of hot coffee which the thoughtful Perk had left for them, were
sleeping soundly, while Eugene steered the vessel, and Walter and Perk
acted as lookouts. But there were other wakeful and active ones on board
the Banner, besides Walter and his two companions—some, who, alarmed by
the rolling and pitching of the little vessel, and knowing that she was
manned only by boys, were making desperate efforts to reach the deck. Had
any one been standing in the galley ten minutes after the watch below
went into the cabin to sleep, his eyes and ears would have convinced him
of this fact. He would have heard a sound like the cutting of wood, and
a few seconds afterward he would have seen the point of an auger come up
through the floor of the galley, in close proximity to the staple which
confined the hatch leading into the hold. Presently he would have seen
the auger disappear and come into view again in another place. Then it
would have been clear to him that some one in the hold was cutting out
the staple by boring holes in a circle around it. Such a proceeding was
in reality going on on board the yacht, although the fact was unknown to
her crew. Walter had come into the cabin every half hour during his watch
to see that everything was safe—looking at the stove, and turning the
coats and trowsers that hung before it, so that his companions might have
dry clothing to put on when they awoke; but he never thought of casting
his eyes toward the hatch.
The auger was kept steadily at work, and presently the plank into which
the staple was driven, was cut entirely through, the staple with the
circular piece of wood attached was pushed up, the hatch slowly and
cautiously raised, and a pair of eyes appeared above the combings and
looked through the open door into the cabin. They roved from one to the
other of the sleeping boys, and then the hatch was laid carefully back
upon the floor of the galley, and a man dressed in the uniform of the
revenue service sprang out. Another and another followed, until four of
them appeared—all stalwart men, and armed with hatchets, chisels and
billets of wood. They halted a moment to hold a whispered consultation,
and then, with quick and noiseless footsteps, passed into the cabin. Two
of them stopped beside the locker on which Chase and his unconscious
companions lay, and the others jerked open the door of the cabin and
sprang out into the standing room. Paying no attention to Eugene, who
was struck dumb and motionless with astonishment, they glanced about the
deck, and discovering Walter and Perk standing on the forecastle, they
rushed at them with uplifted weapons.
“Don’t move, my lad,” said one of the sailors, seizing Perk by the
collar, and flourishing a heavy chisel over his head. “If you do, I’ll
send you straight to Davy’s locker.”
“Now, just listen to me a minute, and I’ll tell you what’s a fact,”
replied Perk. “Don’t trouble yourself to send me there or anywhere else.
I am not likely to make much resistance as long as you keep that weapon
over me.”
Walter was equally cool and collected. Although he was taken completely
by surprise by the suddenness of the attack, he had no difficulty in
finding an explanation for it. As quick as a flash, some words he had
heard a few hours before, came back to him. He remembered that, when he
told the captain of the cutter that there were two deserters on board the
yacht, the latter had remarked to his lieutenant: “Only two! Then the
others must have escaped to the shore.” These were the “others” to whom
the captain referred. They had not shown themselves, or even made their
presence known during the fight in the galley, and their two companions,
whom Walter had delivered up to the revenue commander, had not betrayed
them. The young captain wished now, when it was too late, that he had
searched the hold while the cutter was alongside.
“Easy! easy!” said Walter, when his stalwart assailant seized him by the
throat, and brandished his hatchet before his eyes.
“Who commands this craft?” demanded the sailor.
“I have the honor,” replied Walter, without the least tremor in his
voice. “Look here, Mr. Revenue-man,” he added, addressing himself
to Perk’s antagonist, “don’t choke that boy. He has no intention of
resisting you, and neither have I. We know where you came from, and what
you intend to do.”
“Well, you’re a cool hand!” said Walter’s captor, releasing his hold of
the young captain’s throat, and lowering his hatchet. “You’re sensible,
too. Will you give the vessel up to us without any fuss?”
“I didn’t say so. I’ve a watch below.”
“O, they can’t help you, for they’re captured already. There’s a half a
dozen of our fellers down there guarding ’em. Now, look a here, cap’n:
there’s no use of wasting words over this thing. We’re deserters from the
United States revenue service, as you know, and we’re bound to get to
Havana some way or other.”
“Well?” said Walter, when the sailor paused.
“Well, we want this vessel to take us there.”
“I suppose she will have to do it.”
“But there’s one difficulty in the way,” the sailor went on. “We don’t
know what course to sail to get there. Do you know anything about
navigation?”
“If I didn’t, I don’t think I should be out here in command of a yacht,”
said Walter, with a smile. And if he had added that he could take a
vessel around the world, he would have told nothing but the truth. He and
all the rest of the Club had studied navigation at the Academy, and under
Uncle Dick, who drilled them in the use of instruments, and they were
quite accomplished navigators for boys of their age.
“Now, this is just the way the thing stands,” continued the sailor.
“You’re too far from Bellville to give us up to the cutter, like you
did them other fellers, and we ain’t likely to let you turn about and
go there either. We’re going to Havana; and if you will take us there
without any foolishness, we’ll be the peaceablest fellers you ever saw.
We’ll obey orders, help manage the yacht, live off your grub, and behave
ourselves like gentlemen; but if you try to get to windward of us in any
way, we’ll pitch the last one of you overboard. Mebbe you don’t know it,
but we are going to ship aboard a Cuban privateer. We can make more that
way than we can in Uncle Sam’s service—prize-money, you know.”
“I know all about it,” replied Walter. “I heard it from your captain.”
“Well, what do you say?”
“I say, that I will agree to your terms, seeing that I can’t help myself.
If I could, I might give you a different answer.”
“You’re sensible. I know you don’t want us here, but as we can’t get out
and walk to Cuba, I’m thinking you will have to put up with our company
till we find that privateer.”
“O, I didn’t agree to any such arrangement,” replied Walter, quickly.
“I said I would take you to Havana, and so I will; but I am not going
all around Robin Hood’s barn looking for a Cuban privateer, for I should
never find her. There’s no such thing in existence. Besides, we’ve got
business of our own to attend to.”
“I don’t care about your business,” said the sailor, who did not know
whether to smile or get angry at Walter’s plain speech. “You’ll go just
where we tell you to go. Don’t rile us, or you’ll find us a desperate
lot.”
“I don’t intend to rile you, and neither am I going to be imposed upon
any longer than I can help.”
Walter turned on his heel and walked aft, and Perk, taking his cue from
the captain’s actions, resumed his duties as lookout, paying no more
attention to the two sailors than if they had been some of the rope-yarns
attached to the rigging. In a few hurried words, Walter explained the
state of affairs to Eugene, whom he found almost bursting with impatience
to learn the particulars of the interview on the forecastle, and then
looking into the cabin, saw Chase and his companions stretched out on the
lockers, wide awake, but afraid to rise for fear of the weapons which the
two sailors who were guarding them held over their heads. Walter had been
led to believe, by what the sailor said to him, that there were at least
eight deserters on board the yacht. Had he known that there were but half
that number, he might not have been so ready to accede to their leader’s
demands.
“Come up out o’ that, you revenue men, and let those boys go to sleep,”
said Walter, in a tone of command.
“Belay your jaw,” was the gruff reply. “We take orders from nobody but
Tomlinson. Where is he?”
“Here I am,” said the sailor who had held the conversation with Walter.
“I’ve the cap’n’s word that we shall be landed in Havana, and no attempts
made to humbug us. _My_ name is Tomlinson,” he added, turning to the
commander of the yacht. “If you want anything out of these fellers, just
speak to me. When does the watch below come on deck?”
“As soon as they’ve had sleep enough. They didn’t close their eyes last
night.”
“All right. I say, mates,” continued Tomlinson, addressing his companions
in the cabin, “just tumble on to them lockers and go to sleep. You’ll be
in that watch, and me and Bob’ll be in the cap’n’s watch; then there’ll
be two of us on deck all the time.”
Walter, without waiting to hear whether the sailor had anything else to
say, slammed the door of the cabin, and in no amiable frame of mind went
forward and joined Perk; while Tomlinson and his companion, after taking
a look at the binnacle, stationed themselves in the waist, where they
could see all that was going on.
“Well,” said Walter, “what do you think of this?”
“I think that revenue captain must be very stupid to allow six men to
desert under his very nose,” replied Perk. “If I had been in his place, I
would have known every man who belonged to that prize crew; and I could
have told whether or not they were all present without mustering them.
What are you going to do?”
“I intend to get rid of them at the earliest possible moment. We shall
not be able to make Havana in this wind, but we’ll hit some port on the
Cuban coast, and we’ll try to induce these fellows to leave us there. I
didn’t agree to find a privateer for them, and I am not going to do it.
That revenue cutter has been the cause of more trouble to us than she is
worth.”
And the trouble was not yet ended, if Walter had only known it. The
deserters were not to be got rid of as easily as he imagined.
The storm was fully as violent as the young captain expected it would be.
It might have been a great deal worse, but if it had been, the story of
the Club’s adventures would not have been as long as we intend to make
it. Walter had ample opportunity for the display of his seamanship, and
if any faith is to be put in the word of the deserters, the yacht was
well handled. These worthies, true to their promise, conducted themselves
with the utmost propriety. They watched Walter pretty closely for the
first few hours, but finding that he knew what he was doing, and that he
had no intention of attempting to secure them, they gave themselves no
further concern. They obeyed orders as promptly as if Walter had been
their lawful captain, and treated the young yachtsmen with a great show
of respect.
One day Tomlinson, in reply to a question from Walter, explained their
presence on board the yacht. He and five companions belonged to the
prize crew which had taken charge of the Banner after her capture by
the cutter. While they were guarding the prisoners in the cabin, they
learned from them that the yacht was bound for Lost Island, and that she
would begin the voyage again as soon as the difficulty with the revenue
captain was settled. Upon hearing this, Tomlinson and his friends, who
had long been on the lookout for an opportunity to desert the cutter,
concealed themselves in the hold, hoping to escape discovery until the
Banner was once more outside the harbor of Bellville. They made their
first attempt to gain the deck at the wrong time, as it proved, for Perk
was on hand to defeat them. They knew that the young sailors had seen but
two of their number, and when Walter opened the hatch and ordered them
on deck, two of them obeyed, while the others remained behind, awaiting
another opportunity to make a strike for their freedom. They never had
any intention of taking the vessel out of the hands of her captain. All
they wanted was to be on deck where they could see what was going on, and
to have the assurance that they should be carried to Havana.
On the morning of the fifth day after leaving Bellville Cuba was in plain
sight, and at noon the Banner, after passing several small islands,
entered a little harbor about a hundred miles to the eastward of Havana.
The Club were in a strange place and among a strange people, but the
sight of the little town nestled among the hills was a pleasant one to
their eyes. They were heartily tired of being tossed about on the Gulf,
and longed to feel the solid ground under their feet once more. Their
provisions were entirely exhausted, and where the next meal was coming
from they had not the slightest idea. This, however, did not trouble
them so much as the presence of the deserters. They had quite enough of
their company. It was Walter’s intention to remain in the harbor until
the wind and sea abated, and in the meantime to use every argument he
could think of to induce the men to go ashore. The young captain was
utterly discouraged. He had seen nothing of the schooner since the first
day out, and he was not likely to see her again, for he had been blown
a long way out of his course, and by the time he could reach Havana,
Fred Craven would be shipped off to Mexico, and the schooner would have
discharged her contraband cargo and be half way on her return voyage to
Bellville.
“Captain, there’s an officer wants to come aboard,” said Tomlinson,
breaking in upon his reverie.
Walter looked toward the shore and saw a boat putting off from the
nearest wharf, and a man dressed in uniform standing in the stern waving
his handkerchief. “Who is he?” asked the young captain.
“One of them revenue fellers, I guess. These chaps are very particular.”
“I am glad to hear it, for if we can find that schooner we may be able
to induce them to examine her.”
The yacht was thrown up into the wind, and in a few minutes the officer
came on board—a fierce-looking Spaniard, with a mustache which covered
all the lower part of his face, and an air as pompous as that of the
revenue captain. He touched his hat to Walter, and addressed some words
to him which the latter could not understand.
“I hope there’s nothing wrong,” said the commander, anxiously. “I may
have violated some of the rules of the port, for I am like a cat in a
strange garret here. Tomlinson, can you speak his lingo?”
“No, sir. Talk French to the lubber, if you can.”
Walter could and did. The visitor replied in the same language, and his
business was quickly settled. He was a revenue officer, as Tomlinson had
surmised, and wanted to look at the yacht’s papers, which were quickly
produced; although of what use they could be to a man who did not
understand English, Walter could not determine. The officer looked at
them a moment, with an air of profound wisdom, and then returning them
with the remark that they were all right, touched his hat and sprang
into his boat. As soon as he was clear of the side the yacht filled
away again, Walter taking his stand upon the rail and looking out for a
convenient place to moor his vessel; but there were but two small wharves
in the harbor, and every berth seemed to be occupied. As he ran his eye
along the brigs, barks and schooners, wondering if there were an American
among them, his gaze suddenly became fastened upon a little craft which
looked familiar to him. He was certain he had seen that black hull and
those tall, raking masts before. He looked again, and in a voice which
trembled in spite of all his efforts to control it, requested Eugene to
hand him his glass.
“What’s the matter?” asked the crew in concert, crowding up to the rail.
“What do you see?”
“He sees the Stella, and so do I!” exclaimed Bab, in great excitement.
“Yes, it is the Stella,” said Walter, so overjoyed at this streak of good
fortune that he could scarcely speak. “Now, we’ll see if these Cuban
revenue officers are as worthless as some of our own. But I say, Perk,”
he added, his excitement suddenly increasing, “take this glass and tell
me who those three persons are who are walking up the hill, just beyond
the schooner.”
Perk leveled the glass, but had not held it to his eye long before his
hand began to tremble, and his face assumed an expression much like that
it had worn during his contest with the deserters, and while he was
confronting Bayard Bell and his crowd. Without saying a word he handed
the glass to Eugene, and settling his hat firmly on his head pushed back
his coat sleeves. He acted as if he wanted to fight.
“They are Mr. Bell, the captain of the Stella, and—who is that walking
between them? Fred Craven, as I live!” Eugene almost shouted.
“Now, listen to me a minute, and I’ll tell you what’s a fact,” said Perk,
bringing his clenched fist down into the palm of his hand. “That’s just
who they are.”
“Fred sees us, too,” continued Eugene. “He is looking back at us.”
“I didn’t think I could be mistaken,” said Walter. “Perk, keep your eye
on them and see where they go. Stand by, fellows. When we reach the wharf
make everything fast as soon as possible; and Eugene, you and Bab see if
you can find that revenue officer. If you do, tell him the whole story,
and take him on board the schooner. Perk and I will follow Fred, and
Chase and Wilson will watch the yacht.”
In ten minutes more, the Banner’s bow touched a brig lying alongside the
wharf, and too impatient to wait until she was made fast, Walter and Perk
hurried to the shore and ran up the hill in pursuit of Fred Craven. How
great would have been their astonishment, had they known that they were
running into a trap that had been prepared for them.