THE DISASTER ON THE WHARF.
It was after midnight when we arrived at the hotel in Priam. We were
all fatigued enough to retire immediately, and Tommy Toppleton and I
took a room together at his suggestion. He did not like to be alone,
and I judged that he found it difficult to banish the image of his
terrible tormentor from his mind. Without distorting the truth in
regard to his past conduct, I did all I could to comfort him. When he
undressed himself, I was shocked to see the bruises and wales upon
his body. He had suffered much more than I supposed; but he conducted
himself with much fortitude, and I really sympathized with him.
I washed the wales in cold water, and did everything for him which the
circumstances permitted. He did not say much after we went to the room,
except to express his gratitude to Wolf and myself for the service
we had rendered him. I did not wake the next morning till the young
captain rapped on my door. I admitted him and Christy Holgate.
“How do you feel, Tommy?” asked Wolf, tenderly, as my bedfellow opened
his eyes.
“I don’t feel very well,” replied he.
“Perhaps you had better go down on the boat with me.”
“Thank you, Wolf. I will. I intended to join the battalion and serve
in whatever place the new major gives me, just to show that I am right
towards the fellows,” added Tommy, languidly; “but I don’t feel able to
do so.”
Tommy had, indeed, switched off!
“Do you feel sick?” inquired Wolf.
“I do; and I want to go home. Before I go, I wish you all to promise me
one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Do not say a word to any one about what has happened to me at that
house--not a word,” answered Tommy, earnestly.
“Why so?” inquired Wolf.
“I’ll tell you another time. I will be down stairs in a few minutes.”
Our visitors retired, and I saw that my companion was suffering much
pain. He was hardly able to get out of bed, and I assisted him in
dressing himself.
“I don’t see how we can keep this affair still, Tommy,” said I. “And
the fellows will want to know where you have been.”
“Don’t tell them. I have fought the battle, and got the worst of it.
I don’t want to be laughed at, and I don’t want to be pitied. I feel
sick, and I’m all used up.”
“You will have to tell your own folks about it.”
“No, I will not,” he protested stoutly, even in his weakness.
“They will see the marks upon your body.”
“I shall not say where I got them.”
“Don’t you intend to prosecute Jed for what he has done?”
“No!” he replied decidedly. “If I can get out of this scrape, I will
never get into another.”
I was entirely satisfied that he should have his own way. I helped him
down stairs, for I found that he needed my assistance. He paid the bill
of the whole party at the office, and ordered a wagon to convey him to
the steamer. I was really alarmed about him, for though he put the best
face upon his condition, I was certain that he was very ill. He was hot
and feverish, and I was glad that in a couple of hours more he would be
at home.
I went on board of the Ucayga with him, as she made fast to the wharf.
Wolf gave him his state-room, and he lay down in the berth. I shook
his hand as I left him, and he pressed mine with the warmth of a true
friend. Leaving him I went down to the engine-room, at the door of
which Christy was waiting, deeply agitated in view of his approaching
meeting with the man he had wronged. Wolf and I went in first, to
prepare the way.
“Father, here is the money you lost two years ago--twenty-four hundred
dollars,” said the young captain, presenting the roll of bills to the
astonished engineer.
“You don’t mean so, Wolf!” exclaimed Mr. Penniman.
“Count the money, father, and see if I don’t.”
“Where in the world did you get it?”
“Ned, here, put me on the track of it yesterday, and that is the reason
I left the boat. But, father, we haven’t much time to talk now. I found
Christy Holgate on his knees begging Heaven for forgiveness of his
crime. If God can forgive him, surely you can, father, for Christy gave
me back the money. He is a new man now.”
“Well, but--”
“Here he is, father,” interrupted Wolf, leading the penitent into the
engine-room.
“There’s my hand, Christy,” said Mr. Penniman, suiting the action to
the word. “What my boy says I believe.”
“Ralph, I don’t deserve any favors from you; but I have suffered more
with this money than you have without it,” replied the penitent, with
deep emotion. “If God forgives me, and you forgive me, Ralph, I shall
be at peace, whatever happens to me in this world.”
“It’s all right, so far as I am concerned,” added the engineer.
“He is to be the assistant engineer of our boat, father. I have given
him the place. Colonel Wimpleton told me to engage one some time ago.”
“All right! But do you drink anything now, Christy?” asked Mr. Penniman.
“Not a drop. I haven’t tasted any kind of liquor since we drank
together in the engine-room of the Ruoara.”
“Nor I!” exclaimed Mr. Penniman.
“And with the grace of God, I never will again.”
“Nor I!”
The bell rang to start the engine, and I rushed for the plank. It was
hauled in, but I jumped ashore without difficulty.
“Look out for Tommy,” I shouted to Wolf as the boat began to gather
headway.
“I will take good care of him,” replied Wolf.
“Where’s that crazy man?” shouted some one near me.
I turned, and saw Jed Trottwood driving his four-year-old colt down the
pier.
“Where is he?” demanded he, fiercely, as he reined in his fiery animal.
“On board that steamer,” I replied.
“Stop her! Stop her!” yelled Jed, at the top of his lungs. “Here, hold
my colt!”
The colt certainly needed holding; for, as the steamer began to tumble
the volumes of water out behind her, he became alarmed, and stood up,
as he had done when we first saw him. The driver, who was not so cool
as when Miss Clarissa was at his side, tried to get out of the vehicle,
but the restless animal would not permit him to do so, and he was
compelled to hold on the reins to keep him from running away. Jed was
angry and excited. More of his attention was devoted to the steamer
than to the colt, while the latter needed all his thought and all his
skill. He was more intent upon securing the crazy man than the crazy
horse.
“Can’t you tell the steamboat to stop, cap’n?” said Jed to me, as his
horse still reared and plunged.
“I can tell it to stop, but I don’t believe it will do so.”
“That crazy man will tear somebody to pieces.”
“Your colt will tear you to pieces, if you don’t look out for him,” I
replied.
I was no seer, but my words were more prophetic than I anticipated.
Suddenly, in spite of bit and rein, the colt whirled round and
attempted to run up the long pier, which had been extended to deep
water. The pier was not wide enough for the wagon to turn from the
point where it had stood, and the instant the fractious colt saw the
yawning abyss of waters, towards which he was headed, he sheered
violently. The forward wheel cut against the body, overturned it, and
with a thrill of horror I saw Jed whirled into the lake.
Several men sprang forward to seize the bridle of the furious beast;
but the wagon went over into the lake. This time the snipe-bill, which
had evidently been keyed into the axletree after the last disaster,
did not draw out, as before. The whole vehicle hung together like
“the wonderful one-horse shay.” For an instant the colt struggled to
escape from the weight of the wagon which was pulling him down, but it
was only for an instant; then horse and vehicle dropped into the lake
together.
[Illustration: THE DISASTER ON THE WHARF.]
The momentum of the whirl which had tossed Jed into the water carried
him a little beyond the place where his team fell, or he might have
been entangled in the wreck, and, perhaps, have been kicked to death
by the struggles of the infuriate horse. I held my breath with terror
and anxiety for the fate of man and horse. Others shouted and screamed;
but for a moment no one did anything to save the animal or his driver.
Perceiving a skiff hauled up on the beach, near the upper end of the
wharf, I rushed for it with all the speed my half-paralyzed limbs would
permit. I pushed it off, and sculled towards Jed, who was floundering
in the water, out of his depth, and apparently unable to swim.
I soon reached him, and he had nearly upset the boat in his efforts
to get into it, when I begged him to desist, or he would certainly
be drowned; but there was no more sense in him than there was in the
colt. Cool as he had before been on the land, he was beside himself in
the water. As it was impossible for him to get into the frail skiff,
he was soon weary of his exertions. I was of mine in keeping him from
upsetting the boat. I finally persuaded him to hold on at the stern,
till I paddled ashore.
Jed was safe, but the horse was not. He was so entangled in the harness
that he could not swim, and his violent efforts soon disabled him. By
this time three boats were near enough to do something but the colt had
somehow turned himself over. His head seemed to be caught under water,
and he was still at last. A rope was thrown beneath him; but when he
was pulled up by the men on the wharf, it was all over with him. The
colt was drowned.
Jed was overwhelmed by the disaster. He swore like a pirate; and then
people did not seem to pity him. Some of them told him it was his own
fault, because he had foolishly driven an unbroken colt upon the pier.
“The colt was worth two hundred dollars of any man’s money,” muttered
he, after he had become a little cooler. “Who’s going to pay for him?”
he demanded, turning to me.
“I’m not,” I replied.
“But I guess that Toppleton boy’s folks will have to do it.”
“I think not,” I replied, in a low tone. “If Tommy’s folks don’t send
you to the state prison, you can’t afford to bring in any bills against
them.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, a little disturbed.
I told him what he had done to Tommy, and that his victim was on board
of the Ucayga. He seemed to be alarmed, and wanted to talk with me. I
explained the case to him as I understood it, and assured him he would
be lucky if he escaped with only the loss of the colt.
“But what do they want of the crazy man?” he continued.
“Christy Holgate?”
“You know all about him, then?”
“I do; he is one of the engineers on board of that boat.”
This information was enough to complete the sum total of Jed’s misery.
He felt like a planter who had lost his best slave,--for such the
penitent had been to his relatives. Then I added that Christy had given
up the money; and Jed seemed to feel as though he and his father had
been abused. I suggested that it would be fair for them to pay back
the money they had received for the penitent’s board, as he had earned
double the amount for his persecutors.
I left him to find the battalion. He was obliged to hire a horse to
take him home. If Tommy Toppleton had been deservedly punished, the
Trottwoods had not gained anything, either by their treatment of
Christy or by taking the law into their own hands.