ON BOARD THE BOUNCING BETSEY.
The Bouncing Betsey was beating her way up the Sound in the face of a
head wind, and hence her progress was aggravatingly slow. There were a
goodly number of craft in sight, but none near enough to distinguish
the persons of those on board the schooner, and so her three worthy
passengers had ventured on deck.
Emory Bissell could not be said to be distinguished by either a very
healthy or a very happy look. His face was ghastly pale and his step
feeble.
Barney Hawks and Bill Bunce were seated on what might be called the
quarter-deck. Bissell slowly approached, and when he had almost reached
the couple, Barney pushed a camp-stool toward him.
The wounded man sank down upon it with a sigh.
"So Hen Chamberlain gave you a pretty considerable dig in the ribs, did
he?" asked Barney, in the way of starting conversation.
"He did that, and if the knife hadn't glanced off exactly as it did, it
would have been all over with me, as sure as you're born."
"What made the cub strike you? I know he's pretty hot-blooded, but I
shouldn't have thought that of him."
"He resented what he termed my meddling with his business, I believe."
"And had you done so? I didn't even know that you two were acquainted."
"Oh, yes, I have always known Hen, and I have ventured to give him good
advice now and then."
"It must have been good advice if _you_ gave it to him."
"To be sure, it was so, if he had had the genius to profit by it."
"But what started you on the run? Didn't you dare to stay and face the
music?"
"Why, you see, his attack upon me could but draw the attention of the
public to me, and knowing the fact that he has called at my rooms
several times, and remained an hour or so each time, would be sure to
come out and be put down to my disadvantage, I concluded to dig out
while I had an opportunity to do so."
"I am inclined to think you did wisely," said Barney, after some
moments' reflection.
"But how the deuce did you manage it, in your condition?" asked Bill
Bunce. "If I understood you rightly last night, there were officers in
the house watching you, if not in your very room."
"It was a pretty sharp piece of work," returned Bissell, thoughtfully.
"A detective was just outside my door--some one had called him out the
moment before; two more--one of them Old Spicer himself--were in the
office below, and another, I believe, was on the sidewalk watching the
several entrances. But I knew well enough that my only chance had come,
and I resolved to take it.
"Fortunately, my room was connected with the next by a doorway cut
through the inner wall of a closet, and the outlet to this room was
upon a corridor running at right angles with that upon which mine
opened.
"I could hear my keeper talking with some one just outside my door.
Cautiously I raised myself in bed. The next moment I slipped out upon
the floor.
"On my bureau was a bottle of brandy and a glass. I seized the
bottle----"
"But didn't bother with the glass, I'll go bail," interrupted Barney,
quickly.
"Not much, you bet. I uncorked the bottle, placed it to my lips, and
took such a drink as I hadn't had before in a long time. Then, like
a flash, I changed my coat and vest, seized a hat, and disappeared
through the closet door.
"Crossing the adjoining room, I opened the door on to the corridor.
A gentleman and lady were just passing. I merely bowed, and hurried
toward the private staircase at the rear of the hall.
"I didn't see another soul until I had reached the floor below. Then
two or three ladies and a gentleman came out of a large room and
started toward the stairs. Before they had had a chance to see me I
slipped into a sort of private reception-room, and, when they were well
out of the way, rushed to the outside door, opened it, and the next
minute was standing on the sidewalk.
"As good luck would have it, a cab was passing. I hailed it, the driver
stopped, and I sprung inside.
"'Where to?' he asked.
"By Jove! I hadn't thought up to that moment where I wanted to go to,
so I simply said, 'Straight ahead!'
"Fortunately he was headed eastward, and, as I didn't interfere, he
kept on to the river. At sight of it, what we were talking about
yesterday came over me like a flash of lightning, and thinks I, 'Why
shouldn't I join Barney and Jake in their voyage to the Gulf of
Mexico?' The next moment I decided to do it. And so I told the driver
at what point I wanted to get out, and from there I found means to be
conveyed to the schooner in the bay."
"Were you wise in letting the cabman take you where you did?" asked
Barney, in a somewhat anxious tone.
"I suppose not," was the reply; "but I was far too weak to walk, and so
had to risk it."
"It may prove a risk that will cost us all dear."
"As matters turned out, I don't think so, my friend."
"How's that?"
"Why, even if the detectives should happen to stumble upon that cabman,
it isn't at all likely they'll ever unearth the man who conveyed me to
the bay."
"Who was he?"
"Blessed if I know. I didn't take the trouble to ask."
"How did you happen to fall in with him?"
"He owned a pretty yacht, and was just going aboard of her, when he
noticed me on the pier.
"'You seem to be looking for some one?' he said.
"'I was hoping to find an old man who hangs around this pier a good
deal,' I replied, 'and who owns a small craft in which he takes parties
to different points on the river.'
"'There's no such man about here just now,' said the gentleman.
"'So I see,' I returned, and I fancy I sighed.
"'You are sick and weak,' he exclaimed quickly.
"'Weak I surely am,' I said; 'but I'd be all right, I'm sure, if I
could only get up the river a piece.'
"'Well, I'm going up the river. Come on board my yacht and welcome.'
"I thanked him warmly, and he landed me, as you know, on board this
schooner."
"And why do you think the detectives won't find him?" asked Barney,
eagerly.
"Because I drew out of him that he was on his way to Newport, from
whence he was going to sail almost immediately to the Bermudas,
otherwise I never would have let him come up alongside the Bouncing
Betsey."
"Well, if he's off for the Bermudas, I reckon it's all right; for if we
have any kind of luck, it's more than likely we shall be in the Gulf of
Mexico, or even in Mexico itself, before he gets back to New York."
"That's the way I look at it."
"We've got to make better time than we're making now to get anywhere,"
growled Bill Bunce, discontentedly.
"You're right enough there, Bill," said Barney; "but I suppose the
captain's doing the best he can, so there's no help for it."
"I suppose there isn't; but I've got it beat into me that this delay
will cost us dear."
"I don't see how it can," said Bissell quickly. "Without the testimony
of that yacht-owner they can't connect any one of us with the Bouncing
Betsey."
"Perhaps not, but they'll do it all the same."
"Why, do you suspect that you and Barney were, or can be, traced to the
schooner?"
"No, I don't think that; for after we got away from the detectives at
my place, we disguised ourselves so thoroughly that our own mothers
never would have known us, and we took the most roundabout way to the
bay, and came on board at midnight."
"Then I don't see what there is to fear."
"Nor I, so far as caution is concerned. But that cursed detective they
call Old Spicer is like no other man alive, I believe; and before we
know it he'll drop down upon us--you'll see."
"Come, come, old fellow, cheer up, or you'll give us all the horrors,
and that's useless."
Presently the wind changed, then it became fair, and the Bouncing Betsy
bounded over the waves at a lively rate.
Even Bill Bunce, who had so much to make him sad, became cheerful, and
in some measure forgot his somber forebodings.