CHAPTER XVII.CONCLUSION.
Don’s senses were by this time pretty well restored, and he was able to think the situation over calmly. He had read enough to know that it is no uncommon thing for shipping agents, when seamen are scarce, to kidnap landsmen, and thrust them into a ship’s forecastle to do duty as sailors; and he knew, too, that these “shanghaied men,” as they are called, are sometimes absent for so long a period that their friends on shore mourn them as dead. But Don was well aware that he had not been kidnapped because sailors were scarce. He had heard Lester Brigham’s name mentioned in connection with some money that was to be paid to Barr, and he knew whom he had to thank for the trouble he had got into.
“But what have I done to Lester that heshould take this way of being revenged upon me?” Don asked himself, in deep perplexity. “I am sure that I have always treated him as well as he would let me, and it is not my fault that I can’t be friends with him. But if he thinks he has seen the last of me, he will find that he is very much mistaken. I have been in many a tight place, first and last, but somehow I generally manage to get out not very much the worse for my experience.”
But his prospects for getting out of this scrape were not very bright, as Don found when he came to make the attempt to free himself from his bonds. Pete and Barr had done their work well, and with all his tugging and pulling the prisoner could not loosen the ropes in the least. After a few vain efforts he ceased his exertions, and waited with as much patience as he could to see what was going to happen. He could hear the footsteps of the crew above his head and the bumping of the bales and boxes as they were lowered into the hold, and he knew when the order was given to get the schooner under way. Then Don began to nerve himself for a desperate attempt at escape. If the captain orderedhim on deck before the shores of Maryland were out of sight, he would do it at the risk of losing one of his crew. As it happened, he did do it before his vessel had left the pier a quarter of a mile behind. By the time he came down the ladder to release his captive, the latter had made up his mind just how to act.
“Well, my hearty,” said the skipper, who looked enough like Barr to be his brother, “are you ready to turn to now?”
“Ay ay, sir,” replied Don.
“I suppose you don’t remember of shipping aboard my vessel and signing the articles, do you?” continued the captain, who was surprised at Don’s prompt and sailor-like answer. He had looked for a storm of threats and protests, but he was not prepared for this ready surrender on the part of the shanghaied boy. It had just the effect upon him that Don intended it should have. It threw him off his guard, and rendered it comparatively easy for him to carry out the plans he had formed.
“No, sir, I don’t remember that I have ever been aboard this craft before,” said Don.
“I can show you your name on the articles,all fair and ship-shape, if you want to see it,” remarked the skipper, as he proceeded to untie the ropes with which Don was confined. “What have you done with the advance I paid you?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Of course you don’t. The next time you get a few dollars in your pockets for ballast, keep a clear head on your shoulders by steering wide of grog-shops. Now, then, tumble up and turn to. Go for’ard and——”
The captain suddenly paused, for he was talking to the empty air. He had unwittingly allowed Don, who was stretching his arms and legs to limber up his muscles, to get between him and the open window in the stern, and the last the captain saw of him, he was sailing through that window like a bird on the wing. He heard a loud splash, and by the time he could get to the stern and look out, there was nothing but a bubble or two on the surface of the water to show where Don had disappeared.
Among the many ways that the academy boys had of amusing themselves, and of which we never before had occasion to speak, were private theatricals, which were given in the presence ofthe faculty and all the students. During the last term the members of the first class had produced the pantomime called “The Golden Egg,” with Don Gordon, who was by long odds the best gymnast in school, as the Harlequin. If you have ever seen this pantomime played, you will remember that one of the things the Harlequin has to do is to dive through a window, placed about the height of his shoulders from the floor of the stage, his fall being broken by a blanket held by ten or a dozen people on the other side of the scenes. The ease and grace with which Don performed this difficult feat always called forth rounds of applause from the students, who would have been astonished if any one had told them that the Harlequin’s agility would one day be of real service to him. The assiduous practice which had enabled him to perform his part so creditably on the academy stage, stood him in hand now. While the captain of the coaster was talking to him, Don bounded from the floor like a rubber ball, went through that window without ever touching the sides of it, and disappeared in the water under the stern.
Knowing that instant pursuit would be made,the boy wasted no time in trying to hide. He believed that the very first place the captain would look for him would be under the pier, so he kept away from it, swimming under water as long as he could hold his breath, and striking out for the middle of the bay the instant he arose to the surface. As soon as he thought it safe to do so, he stopped long enough to pull off some of his clothing, and after that he made better headway. He knew when the sailors tumbled into the yawl, and he saw Pete and Barr when they pushed their canoe out from the shadow of the pier and joined in the pursuit. When he caught sight of the Firefly bearing down upon him, he felt a thrill of exultation. He had never doubted that he should escape if he got a fair chance to make the attempt, and now he was positive that that coaster would not take him to Cuba. He recognized the schooner, and knew that if he could make Enoch hear him, his escape was assured. Enoch had never been a friend of his, but Don knew that in a case like this he would fight for him as long as he had strength enough to stand on his feet. By doing some of his best swimming he succeeded in crossing theschooner’s bows, and then he hailed her in tones just loud enough to reach the ears of the boys he saw on her deck, butnotloud enough to show his pursuers where he was. The second hail pointed out his position, and brought him the rope by which he was hauled on board the Firefly.
This was the substance of the story that Don told Jones and Enoch as he sat in the cock-pit, while the latter was steering his vessel off through the dark to get away from the coaster. The only portions of it he omitted were those that related to Lester Brigham’s complicity in his abduction. He thought his rescuers knew nothing about it, and he did not mean that they should hear of it from him. Bert was the only one he would ever take into his confidence. There were no secrets between him and Bert now.
“You have had a time of it, that’s a fact,” said Enoch, when Don paused. “I have often heard of men being shanghaied and made to do duty as foremast hands, but this is the first instance of the kind that ever came under my personal observation. Your Harlequin business came in good play, didn’t it?”
“Who is it that says that every bit of knowledgewe possess will be of use to us some day, if we only wait long enough?” said Don, in reply. “I know that little things I have picked up at odd times, have often come handy to me.”
“If I were in your place, I would make that captain smart for this night’s work,” Jones remarked.
It was right on the point of Don’s tongue to answer that he couldn’t do it without making others smart also; but he caught his breath in time, and said:
“It would be too much bother. By the time he gets back, I hope to be in Mississippi; and if I should have him arrested, I should have to come all the way to Maryland to testify against him. By the way, what did Pete mean, when he said that if the captain didn’t take me, there would be no one to pick up his cigars when he returned?”
“Aha!” exclaimed Enoch. “So Barr is in that business, is he? I’ll tell you what he meant: Barr’s family and Pete’s live in Havre de Grace, but the men themselves spend the most of their time in a little shanty down here on the beach. When that schooner returns from Cuba, she willmake it a point to pass that shanty in the night, even if she has to lie over somewhere, in order to do it. When she goes by, the captain will throw overboard a few thousand cigars, done up in water-proof packages, and Barr and his partner will take charge of them until the skipper sees a chance to sell them without paying the duty.”
“Oh, he’s a smuggler in a small way, is he? Well, who was that darkey whose dogs were so determined to make a meal of me?”
“He’s a petty thief—a robber of hen-roosts and smoke-houses, and there are those who believe that he has been guilty of worse things than that. But if he found your gun he will give it up. He wouldn’t dare keep it.”
Don drew a long breath of relief when he heard this. He had been mourning over the loss of the weapon, ever since he came to his senses. He would not have parted with it for many times its value, for he was too fond of the father who gave it to him.
When Enoch had run so far up the bay that he thought there was no more danger to be apprehended from the coaster, he came about and laid a course for Mr. Egan’s house, off which he arrivedjust as the first gray streaks of dawn were seen in the east. Early as it was, Egan and the rest were astir. They had passed a sleepless night, and were making ready to start out in the Sallie to resume their search for Don Gordon. The actions of the Firefly, which came toward her with all sails set as if she meant to run the cutter down, attracted their attention, and Egan, with some nervousness in his manner, turned his glass upon her. He held it to his eyes for a moment, and then threw his hat up toward the cross-trees and uttered a deafening whoop.
“Didn’t I tell you that if Enoch found him he would stay by him?” he shouted, gleefully. “Don has certainly been somewhere, for he has Enoch’s coat and hat on.”
The glass was passed rapidly from hand to hand, and the rescued boy, after returning Egan’s welcoming yell with interest, stood with his hat by his side, striking what Curtis called “stunning attitudes,” so that all his friends had a different view of him. His long swim had not washed any of his love of fun out of him.
As the Firefly drew nearer she began hauling down her sails, one after the other, and Hopkinscaught the rope that Jones threw to the Sallie. Long before any of the lookers-on thought that the little vessels were within jumping distance of each other, Don cleared the gap between them by a tremendous leap, and landed in Bert’s arms.
“Enoch, we shall never forget you for this,” said Egan, who knew instinctively that Don had something startling to tell.
“Oh, that’s all right,” replied Enoch, who, nevertheless, was highly delighted over what he had done. The boy he had befriended was able to surround him and Jones with good influences, and make it comparatively easy for them to hold to the resolutions of amendment they had made. “I guess Don would have done as much for us if he had been in our place and we in his. Cast off that line, please.”
“What for?” demanded Egan.
“We had better be getting along toward home,” replied Enoch. “We’ve been out all night, and as the breeze has been rather fresh, the folks may be worrying about us. Besides we haven’t had any breakfast yet.”
“Not much you won’t go home until we aredone with you,” said Egan. “The fresh breeze will not alarm your people, because they know that you are too good a sailor to get into trouble with a cap-full of wind. As to breakfast, we haven’t had any, either. We brought it aboard, intending to eat it while we were looking for Don. Come over and take a bite with us, while we listen to what Don has to say for himself.”
As much as Enoch and Jones desired to be received as friends by the cutter’s crew, they would have been glad to postpone all intimacy with them for a day or two, at least. The fact was, they were ashamed of themselves; but they didn’t see how they could refuse to accept Egan’s invitation. Accordingly a rope-fender was dropped over the Firefly’s rail to keep the little vessels from chafing each other as they bobbed up and down on the waves, and Jones and Enoch clambered over into the cutter’s cock-pit.
“Don tells us that Brigham has gone home,” said Egan, as he passed a well-filled plate to each of his new guests. “What started him off in so great a hurry?”
Enoch repeated his stereotyped story about Lester having heard bad news and being homesickand all that, and there was not the least sign on Don Gordon’s face to indicate that he knew better. He admired Enoch for his loyalty to his friend, and Enoch and his companion admired the cutter’s crew for the very temperate language they used when speaking of the absent boy. Every one of them, except Bert, had seen the time when they would most gladly have improved an opportunity to punch his head, but they had nothing but kind words for him behind his back. Enoch told himself that the good will of such fellows was worth working for.
The story to which the boys listened while they were disposing of the good things Egan’s mother had put up for them, was the same in substance as the one we have already related, all reference to Lester Brigham and his responsibility in the matter, being omitted. The cutter’s crew were mad enough to fight when Don pushed up his hat and showed them the lump on his forehead which had been raised there by Pete’s hard fist, and even Bert bristled up like a bantam on the war-path. The surest way to make him angry was to do something to Don. They all agreed that there could be nothing done about the matter unlessDon were willing to stay and prosecute every one who had a hand in kidnapping him; but Don couldn’t do that without bringing Lester into trouble, and all he had to say about it was, that he was satisfied to get off without going to Cuba. He was among friends again, and that was all he cared for. Pete hadn’t hurt him any to speak of. He was sorry he had lost his gun, but perhaps——
“But perhaps you haven’t lost it,” said Egan, finishing the sentence for him. “In fact, I know you haven’t. We found it this morning leaning against the door of the boat-house, where that chicken-thief left it last night. Whether or not he knew what happened to you, I can’t say; but I do know that when he discovered the gun, he made all haste to return it, for fear that we might look for it and so run on to his hiding-place.”
“That’s the best piece of news I have heard in a long time,” exclaimed Don. “But how does it come that that darkey knew where to leave it? He never saw me before.”
“Don’t you believe it. He knows everything that goes on around here as well as Barr does.Now, boys,” said the ex-sergeant, “I should like to ask you a few questions which I would not have asked you under any consideration while I was a member of the academy; but don’t answer them unless you can do so without violating anybody’s confidence. How did you learn about our plans? You must have known all about them, or you could not have managed matters with so much skill.”
“Jones and I were hidden in the recitation room when you held your business meeting,” replied Enoch. “I mean on the night that Blake and his committee presented their report.”
“Why, Enoch!” exclaimed Hopkins, who was fairly staggered by this revelation. “Didn’t you know that by doing that you put yourselves in the way of the best kind of a thrashing?”
“We did, but we took our chances. Now, I want to askyoua question: Did we shut the door of that lodge-room against ourselves by playing the part of spies?”
“Of course not,” answered Egan, promptly. “You didn’t hear anything, and you never will until you have traveled—so and so.”
Here Egan made several motions with hishands, only one of which was intended to mean something; but which one that was, nobody but a first-class boy could have told.
“Now clear up another point,” continued Egan. “Did Bob Endicott’s father know what base uses his carriage was going to be put to that day?”
“No, sir,” said Enoch, with a laugh. “Bob told him that he wanted the carriage, and his father let him have it; but he did not know what was going to be done with it. Bob was sharp enough to keep that to himself. He gave Sam and the footman five dollars apiece for what they did.”
“And they earned the money,” observed Curtis. “Blake and his committee had a fearful time finding their way out of the woods, and Mr. Colson said that when they came into his office they looked like a lot of tramps. It was a sharp trick, Enoch, and no one but you could have managed it.”
“And no one but Lester Brigham would have thought of it in the first place,” said Egan.
From this it would appear that Lester’s secrets were not likely to be revealed. Huggins couldnot say that it was he who suggested to Lester the idea of running off with a private yacht, for he had left school long ago; and Ross dared not tell that he was the one who planned the stealing of the class dinner, for he was afraid that he would be court-martialed and punished if he did. Lester’s other secret was in the keeping of boys who knew how to hold their tongues.
When the breakfast had been disposed of, and the exciting and amusing incidents that happened during their last term at the academy, as well as the events of the previous night, had been thoroughly discussed, Egan and his party got into the canoe and pushed off for shore, to let Mr. and Mrs. Egan see that the missing boy had come back safe and sound, while Enoch and Jones went aboard the Firefly and set sail for home. In accordance with his promise, Enoch wrote to Lester that very day. After telling him how Don Gordon had escaped from the coaster, he wound up his letter as follows:
“We have not seen Barr since his failure to overhaul us after Don had been taken on board the Firefly, and I don’t think he will ever trouble you. There are too many things against him thathe wouldn’t like to have brought to light in a court of law. Don knows nothing whatever of your complicity in his abduction, and you may be sure that we shall not enlighten him. We hope to see you next term, but we tell you plainly that if you have any more schemes for mischief in your head, you can keep them there, or look to somebody besides Jones and me to help you carry them out. We are tired of playing the part of scamps and law-breakers, and are going to see how boys feel who honestly try to behave themselves. It will be a novel experience to us, but we hope to live through it. We are friends with all Egan’s party now, and they have invited us to join them in their hunts and pleasure-rides. They didn’t throw any fatherly advice at our heads, but we have as good evidence as we want that they will stand by us and help us all they can.”
It was wonderful what a change that breakfast on board the cutter made in Enoch and his friend Jones. After that they were seen in Egan’s company almost every day, and the officers of the Magpie, who had more than once told themselves that Enoch would bear watching, began to think that they had been greatly mistaken in him. Heand Jones had been brought to their senses in the same way that Don Gordon was. The influence that Egan and his friends exerted over them was a silent one, but it was none the less powerful. They often went sailing and hunting together, and Enoch’s skill as a wing-shot enabled him to present Bert Gordon with one of the largest and finest swans that had ever been killed on the bay. They did not get a shot on the day that Don was lost in the marshes (it was probable that Barr’s sloop frightened the birds away), but they afterward had fine sport with the swans, and every one of Egan’s guests took a specimen home with him.
Affairs went smoothly after that, and the boys who have been spoken of in this book asThe Young Wild-Fowlerswere happy—all except Lester Brigham. He was as miserable as a boy ever gets to be. When Don was a prisoner, and in danger of being sent off to some distant port, Lester’s terror almost drove him frantic; but as soon as he learned that Don had come safely out of his troubles, that Enoch and Jones had been at hand to assist him when he made that bold “Swim for Liberty,” and that through his influenceand Egan’s, his sworn friends had been led to desert him and to resolve to mend their ways—when Lester knew all these things, his fear gave way to rage, intense and bitter. To repeat the expression Enoch Williams once made, he could not have been more alone in the world if he had been set down on Robinson Crusoe’s island, before the man Friday made his appearance. Bert could hardly believe his ears when his brother told him that it was Lester who put Barr up to do as he did, and he threatened to expose him in spite of the pledge of secrecy he had given; but Don promised to duck him in the bay if he did, and so Bert said nothing, although he stormed a good deal.
The boys were sorry to say good-bye to their genial host, but they were eager to start for home. Christmas was coming, and it was a gala day with all of them. Don and Bert enjoyed it, as they always did, but they afterward told each other that no Christmas had ever seemed quite like this one. They took solid comfort in looking back over the year that had just passed. Their record was a clear one, and Don was happy in the thought that he had never caused his mother amoment’s anxiety since Egan, Hopkins and Curtis got hold of him. They never got a glimpse of Lester Brigham, and neither did he go back to school with them. His father, having learned that life on a plantation was not just what his imagination had pictured it, sold his property in Rochdale and removed to New Orleans, where Lester lives at this writing. Whether or not he took a high stand among the boys there, we don’t know for certain, but we feel safe in saying that he did not. His future is easily predicted. To quote once more from Enoch, he is all talk and nodo; and a boy who has that failing, is not likely to make much of a man.
It gives us great pleasure to say that Enoch and Jones held firmly to their good resolutions, in spite of all the temptations that came in their path, and that the influence that had been exerted upon them made itself felt, through them, upon other members of “the crowd,” who gradually fell into their ways. During the term no boys worked harder than they did, and the result of the examination was just what the members of the first class said it would be. Enoch was made captain, and Jones won a first sergeant’schevrons.
Don and Bert did not leave the academy at the close of the term, but remained to take the finishing course, which they will complete next year. What they will do after that they have not yet decided; but it is safe to say that if they make truthfulness, fidelity and manliness their guiding-stars in the future, as they have in the past, they will be of some use in their day and generation.
Curtis is in a fair way to end his days in the regular army, and Enoch Williams, to whom he has written glowing accounts of his life at “The Point,” is looking in the same direction, and longing for an opportunity to distinguish himself as one of his country’s defenders. He has a fair prospect of going to West Point. If he is ever intrusted with a command, and exhibits the same generalship in battle that he did in carrying out Huggins’s idea, and Ross’s, he will certainly win a high place in his chosen profession.
Hopkins is studying law in Baltimore, and Egan is in South America building railroads; but he is coming home next September, and has invited all his old friends, Enoch and Jones included, to meet him at his father’s house. Donis looking forward with impatience to a month’s sport with the canvas-backs and red-heads, but he does not care to see Barr again, or to be the hero of another adventure like the one we have attempted to describe inThe Young Wild-Fowlers.
THE END.
THE END.
THE END.