IN NO MAN'S BAY--MAG'S HOVEL.
The day passed, the night came on, and out of the gloom the passenger
on board the schooner caught glimpses of the many islands that go to
make up the Thimble group.
Then, indistinctly, the main land came into view, and at last the
schooner came to anchor in the little bay behind No Man's Island.
As the great sails were lowered, a shrill whistle from the shore
reached them. The captain answered it promptly; and presently the sound
of oars working in rowlocks was heard.
"That's Pete Coffey," whispered Barney. Then, as the boat came into
view, "I wonder who he's got with him?"
No one spoke again until the boat was alongside the schooner.
"Here, take the painter," called out Pete, "and make it fast," and he
threw the end of the rope on board.
A sailor caught it and fastened it accordingly.
"Clarky," then said Pete to his companion in the boat, "you stay here,"
and the next moment he himself was on board the schooner.
He seemed astonished to see Barney and Bissell, and looked upon Bunce
with some show of suspicion.
"What's up with you fellows?" he asked. "And who is this chap?"
"We've been driven out of New York, and have got to skip the country,"
answered Barney.
"And the long and short of it is," Bissell hastened to add, "you must
find some safe place in which to secrete us until the schooner is ready
for sea."
"Hum! I don't know about you, Mr. Bissell."
"Don't know about me! What do you mean, sir?"
"I don't think it's particularly safe to have anything to do with you.
I've noticed that whoever has worked with you, or for you, has been
fetched up with a round turn sooner or later, and that you always get
off scot-free."
"Come, come, Pete," said Barney hastily, "if you've got any grudge
against Emory, it's no time to show it now, when we're all in serious
trouble. Just lay it aside till we're in smooth water again."
"Well, for your sake, Barney, I suppose I must do what I can for the
crowd; but I tell you what, old fellow, it goes awfully against the
grain to do anything for that smooth-tongued traitor."
"Come, come, Pete," said Bissell, in his most plausible tone, "if I've
offended you in any way I'm ready and willing to make it all right with
you. And now tell us, where can you put us for a night and a day?"
"First, I want to know who this stranger is. You'll please to remember
that I haven't been introduced to him yet."
"Excuse me, Pete," Barney hastened to say. "It's Bill Bunce, a friend
of mine; you've heard me speak of him;" and then he explained how he
happened to be with them.
Pete heard him through to the end; then, with some show of interest, he
asked:
"Do I understand you to say that that slippery Jew, Jake Klinkhammer,
has really passed in his checks at last?"
"Yes, poor Jake got something in his stomach that he couldn't very well
digest, and so he was obliged to throw up the sponge."
"The deuce! whose turn will it be next, I wonder? Do you know, Barney,
they're after me, hot and heavy, for that little job in the Stony Creek
railway station?"
"They are! But they can't fasten anything on to you."
"I don't know about that; they've got half a dozen men on my track, and
if they can't find any evidence against me, they'll manufacture some.
Leave the hounds alone for that."
"Is it really so bad, Pete?"
"You just bet it is. And, by the way, cap'n, one thing I came out to
say is, that for your sake, as well as my own, I daresn't help you land
the liquor or store it away to-night."
"Thunder!" exclaimed the captain, "what'll I do, then?"
"I've got two friends--safe fellows, who are working in the quarry as a
blind; they'll help you, and do whatever I could do myself."
"Ah! but where are they now?"
"Waiting in my boat-house--you know the spot."
"Yes, where we usually land, ain't it?"
"That's the place."
"Well, is everything clear to get to work now?"
"Yes, I've given my regular attendants the slip to-night, and you can
go ahead with your work as soon as you've a-mind to, and I'll go ahead
with mine. Now, then, gentlemen, I'm ready to pilot you to a safe place
whenever you're ready to accompany me."
"We're ready now," said Barney, with alacrity. "Let's get into the boat
without a moment's delay."
"All right, jump in," and Barney quickly clambered over the schooner's
gunwale, and slipped down into the boat.
"Are you sure it's safe for us to land--sure there's no one on the
lookout for us?" asked Bissell, nervously.
"Sure as I can be of anything," answered Pete. "At any rate, it's safer
than it is for you to stay here, so go ahead," and Bissell let himself
down into the boat, and was quickly followed by Bill Bunce, Pete
himself bringing up in the rear.
"Where's your togs, gentlemen?" asked Pete, looking about the bottom of
the boat as he took his seat.
"What we managed to get away with, we've left on board the schooner,"
answered Barney. "She expects to get to sea to-morrow night, you know,
and we thought it wouldn't be worth while to bring anything ashore for
so short a time."
"All right, you ought to know best, but I can't fit you all out with
clean shirts and collars, understand."
"Oh, don't let that worry you, my good friend," said Bissell, with a
good deal of effusion, "we will excuse you, and do very well, I have no
doubt."
Clarky remained silent--indeed, he hardly spoke even when Pete
addressed him, but worked away at his oar as if his very life depended
upon it.
Presently they reached the shore and landed.
Pete addressed a few words to Clarky in a low tone, and then turning to
his other companion, said:
"All ready; come on," and at once started up a narrow pathway, at some
distance from the main road.
Bissell, with some curiosity, looked back.
He saw Clarky haul the boat well up out of the water and fasten it to a
stake. He then saw him start toward a little clump of trees, where the
faint outlines of a boat-house could just be seen.
Pete walked on rapidly, and it was all his friends could do to keep up
with him.
They kept on in this way for almost half an hour, when they came to
what appeared to be a deserted stone-quarry.
Pete now turned to the left, and they skirted this quarry for some
distance until they came to a little cluster of huts or shanties, most
of them, like the quarry, deserted.
One or two of the shanties were set well back against a side hill, and
into the largest of these Pete conducted his companions.
The place contained two good-sized rooms, one a general living-room,
and the other a bedroom.
The first was empty, the other occupied, as was evident, when a woman's
voice, in querulous tones, demanded to know who was there.
"It's me, Mag," answered Pete. "Don't fret yourself."
"Don't fret myself! You uneasy, restless villain; you're enough to fret
a saint. What're you up to at this time o' night, anyway? Why ain't ye
at home and in bed, where you ought to be?"
"I've got business to attend to, and some friends to look after; I
shall stow them away inside for twenty-four hours. There's plenty of
food in there, I suppose?"
"I suppose there is. If there ain't there ought to be, and that's all I
know about it."
"And beds fit to sleep on?"
"How many is there with you?"
"Three."
"Then there are beds enough, so that each one can have two. And now
will you let me go to sleep, Pete Coffey?"
"Yes, unless you want a little taste of the Bouncing Betsey's West
Indian rum."
"The Bouncing Betsey! West Indian rum, eh? Bring it right here, Pete,
like a good fellow."
"I'm coming, my dear."
"That's right, come on. Oh! a friend in need is a friend indeed. I was
just longing for some good, pure spirits; and now, here you come to me,
like an angel of mercy!"
By this time Pete was in the bedroom and had found his way to the side
of the bed.
"Where is it, Pete?" asked the old woman, eagerly stretching out her
hand.
He handed her one of several bottles the captain had given him just
before he had got into his boat.
She uncorked it and placed the nozzle to her lips; then she took a
good, long, hearty pull.
"There! let up!" exclaimed Pete, at last.
But it was hard to induce the old gal to take her lips from the bottle
after she had once got them fastened to it.
Pete, understanding the situation, waited patiently, and when at length
she stopped to breathe, drew the bottle gently away.
She resigned it with a sigh.
"Good-night, Mag. Sorry I can't leave it with you," and Pete returned
to those who were modestly waiting in the other room.