“UNTIL TO-MORROW”
There was a moment of silent amazement. It was broken by Chub.
“Huh,” he grunted. “I knew you weren’t any book agent!”
“And I knew you knew it,” laughed Billy. “I’m sorry I had to sail under
false colors, but I had a difficult job on hand and I was forced to
take every precaution. And when you say I was not a book agent you
aren’t altogether correct, for I really have been a book agent for
nearly two months this time, and I’ve acted the same part before. As
a matter of fact I’ve taken orders for nineteen sets of Mr. Billings’
‘Wonders of the Deep’ during my stay around here.”
“Were you trying to arrest some one?” asked Dick eagerly.
“Just that,” was the reply. “The Department found nearly a year ago
that some one was getting out some very clever imitations of ten-dollar
bank-notes of the series of 1902. I was instructed to find the
counterfeiters and arrest them. With me was a man named Brady. You’ve
seen him.”
“The man at the wharf!” cried Chub. “The fellow that helped us with
the launch that day, Roy! Remember? Isn’t that right, Mr. Noon?”
“That’s right. He was watching the freight and people that went out
from Silver Cove because I discovered finally that the counterfeit
money was being sent to New York from this point. I took up the
vocation of book agent since it provided me with an excuse for visiting
all the houses around here. About the time you boys came to the
island--I was camping on the shore of the mainland then--we got word
from New York that a new batch of the bills had made their appearance
there. We knew that they didn’t go by express, and satisfied ourselves
that they hadn’t gone by freight; so we concluded that they had been
taken by messenger, probably by one of the gang itself. As it is easier
to come and go unnoticed by boat than by train we decided that the
messenger had traveled by river. For awhile I thought that perhaps he
had a small boat of some sort and was making trips up and down in it,
but after watching closely for over two weeks I gave that notion up.
Brady found the messenger when he returned,--spotted him the moment he
put his foot off the boat,--and followed him out of town only to lose
him finally about three miles north. Then I took up the hunt again and
finally located the outfit in a small cabin up in the hills some four
miles from here. But we wanted to get all the evidence we could, press,
plates that the bills are printed from, and some of the counterfeit
money itself; and we wanted to get the whole gang.
“So we watched for awhile, Brady and I taking turns, and found that
there were only three of them. One of them, the engraver, was an old
hand and the Department had been after him for years. He was the one
who took the money down to New York and handed it over to a confederate
there for circulation. About two weeks ago he made another trip, and
we set men to watch him when he reached the city. He was shadowed, his
confederate marked down and we learned that he was coming back to-day.
He reached here on the noon boat. At seven o’clock Brady and I went up
and rounded up the three of them.”
“Was there fighting?” asked Chub eagerly.
“No, we managed to surprise them. We got their press, some plates, and
a few counterfeit bills, enough to convict them, I guess. We took them
to the jail at Silver Cove, and at midnight we’ll go on with them to
New York. Now you know all about it. I’m sorry I’ve had to deceive you
at times, but it’s necessary in my business.”
“Then you weren’t a clown at all?” asked Roy.
“Oh, yes, I was--for awhile. And all the other things I told you
about,” answered Billy smilingly. “In the service we have to play many
parts. Well, I must, be getting on. I was sorry I couldn’t come to your
party, Miss Emery. Perhaps, though, we will meet again some day. I
hope so. I’ve enjoyed knowing you and these young gentlemen immensely.
It’s been real fun, and it isn’t often I manage to combine fun with
business. Good-by.”
Harry shook hands with him sorrowfully.
“I wish you weren’t going,” she said.
“Thank you,” he answered. “So do I. I’ll miss the fishing and the good
times we’ve had around your camp-fire.”
“I hope we’ll meet you again,” said Chub. “It’s been awfully jolly for
us fellows, having you here.”
“That’s so,” echoed Dick and Roy. “And I’m very much obliged for the
help you gave me with the launch,” added the former. Billy smiled,
hesitated, and--
“I’ve got a confession to make,” he answered. “I don’t want you to
think I wouldn’t have done anything for you that I could have, but I
was more interested in that launch than you suspected. I thought that
perhaps some day I might want to use it and use it in a hurry. And so
I made up my mind to find out just how she ran. As things turned out,
though, I had no use for her.”
Dick laughed.
“Well, I hadn’t suspected that,” he said, “but you’d have been welcome
to her if you’d wanted her. And I’m just as much obliged to you.”
Billy turned to Mr. Cole.
“Good-by,” he said. “You and I’ll see each other again.”
“Well, we always have so far,” said the artist heartily as he shook
hands.
“We’re bound to,” was the response. “I owe you for something since
yesterday, you know, and I’ve got to pay that off. Until then,
good-by.”
[Illustration: “Good-by”]
They all followed Billy out to the deck and watched while he jumped
into the _Minerva_, which lay with idly flapping sail beside the _Jolly
Roger_.
“What becomes of your boat?” asked Mr. Cole.
“I sold her this morning to the chap who brought her up for me. I’d
have let her stay where she was if it hadn’t been for the few things on
board of her. There was the can of mushrooms, you know. Brady and I are
going to have those for supper when I get back!”
He pushed off, the sail filled and the _Minerva_ began to drop down the
river. Billy waved and called a last good-by.
“Good-by,” answered Mr. Cole. “And good luck.”
“Good-by,” called Roy and Dick and Chub. Only Harry was silent. But in
a moment she was running along the deck toward the stern.
“Mr. Noon!” she cried. “Mr. Noon! You’ve forgotten something!”
There was an instant or two of silence and Harry thought he hadn’t
heard. But he had, for presently his voice floated back to them across
the water:
Good-by and good night!
And I hope as we part
That I float from your sight,
But not from your heart!
“Bravo! Bravo!” cried the artist. And “Good-by!” called the others. But
there was no answer from the darkness which had swallowed the last wan
gleam of the _Minerva’s_ sail. They turned back to the sitting-room.
“I didn’t want him to go,” said Harry rebelliously.
“I trust you’ll say the same when I’m gone,” said Mr. Cole. “For I,
too, must up sail and away soon.”
Chub glanced at Roy and the latter nodded.
“I guess it’s good-by all around,” said Chub. “Dick and I have got to
go Saturday, and Roy thinks he might as well go too.”
“Oh!” cried Harry. “I’m so glad!”
“What!” they cried in one voice.
“Oh, not because you’re going, exactly,” she explained, “but I’ve got
to go too!”
“You!”
“Yes, Aunt Harriet’s back and she wants me to come to her the last
of this week. Isn’t that horrid? I didn’t tell you before because I
thought you’d be sorry.”
“That’s the reason we didn’t tell,” laughed Roy. “So we’re all in the
same boat.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Cole, “and the boat’s name is the _Jolly Roger_. Where
do you boys go to?”
“New York,” they answered.
“And you?” he asked of Harry. And when she had told him: “Well, that’s
all right then. We sail Saturday morning.”
“What do you mean?” cried Harry.
“Why, that you must be my guests, Miss Emery, the whole lot and parcel
of you. I’ll get you to New York Sunday morning, and that ought to
be soon enough for any one. You’ve never sailed under the skull and
cross-bones before, I’ll wager, and here’s your chance. So pack up your
duds to-morrow and come aboard bright and early Saturday morning. And
it’s, Hey for the pirate’s life!”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be glorious!” cried Harry. “Do you suppose we could?”
“Of course we can,” said Roy stoutly. “And we’ll do it. And we’re
awfully much obliged, Mr. Cole. It’ll be fine!”
“That’s settled then,” answered the artist. “To-morrow we’ll get in our
stores and prepare to slip anchor.”
“Bully!” cried Chub. “I’ve always wanted to be a pirate.”
“So have I,” declared Harry quite seriously. “Oh, dear, what time is
it, please, somebody?”
It was after ten and Harry scurried around for her things. Roy brought
the canoe alongside and Harry was helped into it, her precious deed and
her presents in her lap. Then Roy and Chub followed and lifted their
paddles.
“Good night, Mr. Cole,” said Harry. “I’ve had a perfectly splendid
time. And I can’t tell you how much I like my picture.”
“Not nearly as much as I like the original,” answered the artist
gravely. The darkness hid Harry’s blushes. Then:
“Please be very careful of my island,” she called.
“I will,” was the answer. “Until to-morrow!”
“Until to-morrow!” they replied. And--
“Until to-morrow!” echoed Dick as he stepped ashore and headed toward
the camp.
Mr. Cole pulled his tender over the stern and then paused at the studio
door. From across the darkness in one direction came the faint sound of
voices and the sibilant swish of the paddles. From down the beach came
the sound of a merry whistle. The artist smiled.
“‘Until to-morrow,’” he murmured. “It’s a good world where we can say
that!”
He closed the door behind him, and, as he did so, a great golden moon
pushed its rim up over the edge of the eastern hills and threw a mantle
of radiant light over Harry’s Island.
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).
--Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.