CHAPTER IV.--A NEW FRIEND.
How long Budd remained unconscious he never exactly knew. It must havebeen some hours, however, for when he recovered sufficiently to lookabout him it was night; at least a darkness almost thick enough to befelt was all around him. He could hear the wind whistling fiercely abovehis head, yet he felt it not. He could hear the sound of dashing wavesbut faintly, as though some distance away. He was evidently lying upona hard board or floor; yet to it there was a gentle, undulating motion,like that of a boat in some sheltered harbor, or drawn, bow up, onto asandy beach.
With difficulty he sat up. His clothes were heavy with water, and hewas stiff and numb from cold and exposure. He put out his right hand,and it rested upon a short board partition; he stretched out his lefthand, and it touched a similar one, about the same distance away. Thenhe knew he was in the body of his ox-cart, which had in some way becomedetached from its wheels. It must have been this into which he had beenprovidentially thrown just as he had lost consciousness. But _where_was the cart-body?
Certainly it was no longer tossed about by the angry waters of the bay.Where, then, had it landed? He rose up, and his head came so forciblyin contact with a heavy planking that he was thrown off his feet.Rubbing the bruised spot tenderly, he crept along to the side of thecart-bed and put out his hand as far as possible; but it touchednothing. Slowly stepping ever the side, he found himself standing in afew inches of water. Walking directly ahead a few steps, he came upagainst a solid wall, that extended either way farther than he couldreach.
He now knew that he was under some wharf, where the waves had tossed thecart-bed. This accounted for the planking above his head, for hishearing the whistling wind without feeling it, for the sound of thedashing of the waves at such a distance from him, and for the heavydarkness settled around. But _what_ wharf was it? Which way should hego to find the opening by which he had entered?
He straightened himself up and looked steadily first in one and then inan opposite direction. He soon became convinced that to the left hecould see a little more clearly than to the right, and that it was fromthat direction that came what little air he could feel stirring. Inthat direction, then, he determined to go.
As he advanced the water deepened, and the roof became more elevated.Not only could he now stand erect, but the planking was higher above hishead than he could reach. Soon the stone wall ceased, and wooden pilesheavily boarded took its place. Now he saw a light space just ahead;the wind fanned his cheek; the opening was not far off; but the waterwas up to his neck, and he must swim for it. A few strokes, and he wasin the open air. It was very dark, yet not with the intenseness he hadexperienced under the wharf. The wind and the rain beat fiercely uponhim. Unless some house were near, he had better return under the dockfor shelter and wait for morning.
With the little strength that remained to him he drew himself up ontothe wharf and looked anxiously about him. As he looked, a great hopesprung up within his heart. Not far away, and gleaming brightly throughthe thick darkness, was a light. With a hoarse cry of exultation hestaggered to his feet and went toward it. Brief as the walk was, itexhausted him. He was afraid that he would not reach the house fromwhose window he now knew the light shone forth, and in his despair heshouted:
"Help! Help!"
The next instant the door of the building swung open, letting out aflood of light upon the exhausted lad, and a voice asked:
"Who are you? Where are you?"
"Here!" answered Budd, feebly, stretching out his hands toward thestranger, who sprung forward and caught him just as he was fallinghelplessly at his feet.
The stranger was a youth no older nor larger than Budd himself; but heshowed that he possessed enormous strength by lifting his helplesscompanion in his arms and carrying him into the house.
Closing the door against the storm, he went to work upon Budd with adirectness and skill that showed he knew just what to do for anexhausted person. The wet clothing was stripped off; the numbed andchilled body was rubbed until the blood began to circulate freelythrough it; dry clothing and a warm blanket were then wrapped about therecovering lad, and he was laid upon a rude pallet of straw before therusty stove, in which, however, a good fire was burning. Nor did theyoung stranger's attention to his unexpected guest end here. From someunseen quarter he brought forth a tin cup, and filled it with hot coffeefrom a pot on the stove. Milk and sugar were also fished out of theirhiding-places and added to the beverage; then the whole was put toBudd's lips, with the simple comment:
"There; drink that down, and I'll warrant you'll be kicking round hereas lively as a kitten, in a few minutes."
Budd drained the offered cup, and then said, gratefully:
"I don't know how I shall ever repay you for your kindness to me. I waspretty near used up, I declare."
The young host took the cup from his guest without a word and refilledit. Sipping this slowly off himself, he eyed his visitor until he hadfinished it; then he asked, abruptly:
"Will you tell me how you came here, Budd Boyd?"
"Where am I? Who are you?" asked Budd, surprised that the lad hadcalled him by name, and sure that he had never seen him before.
The boy-host gave a comical shrug of his shoulders, and with aflourishing gesture answered:
"I am Judd Floyd, at your service. This is Fox Island, where I have forthe present taken up my solitary abode, and am monarch of all I survey.But how came you here in all this tempest? Did you see my lightstreaming far across the watery deep, and attempt to walk over? Hangedif I wouldn't think so, from the looks of your clothes!"
Weak as he was, Budd could not help laughing at the serio-comic air ofhis companion, but as briefly as possible he related his adventure.
"'Twas a close shave, now, wasn't it?" Judd said, with a shrill whistle,as Budd concluded. "I don't want to try that sail, at least on thatkind of a craft, such a night as this, you bet. Lucky for you I washere, else you might have perished from sheer exhaustion beforemorning."
Budd at once admitted this; then he asked:
"But how is it that you knew me? And how long have you been here?"
"Oh! I've seen you up at the village with Benton's ox-team, andinquired your name. I couldn't help remembering it, for it sounds muchlike my own. Yours is Budd Boyd, and mine is Judd Floyd. Guess we mustbe sort of second-rate twins," said the irrepressible Judd with acomical grin; and indeed the lads, in size, figure and features, werenot unlike.
"How long have I been here?" he went on.
"Just a week to-night, by actual count. You see, I have lived, as farback as I can remember, in an old shanty just out of the village. Popgot drunk as a steady business, and ma took in washing and ironing tokeep our souls and bodies together. I know now I didn't help her as muchas I ought, but she would keep me in school, and I did try to help her,out of school hours. But last winter she got rather tired of thisworld, and went where I trust she has peace and rest. She deservesthem, for she never had them here;" and the lad tried to keep back thetears that would gather in his eyes.
"Well, after her death pop carried on worse than ever, and so the townauthorities sent him up to the State Farm for a six-month term as anhabitual drunkard. Then the same worthy individuals that disposed ofhim talked of putting me on the Poor Farm down there on QuidnessettNeck; but I had a slight objection to the arrangement, and the nextmorning I was among the missing.
"I'd been over here before, and knew there was an old stove, a chair ortwo, and some other odd pieces of furniture in the house; so I packed upa few necessary traps at the shanty, stowed them aboard pop's old boat,and came over here by night. Here, too, I've remained in undisputedpossession ever since."
"How do you live?" asked Budd, with a good deal of curiosity.
"Oh! that's easy enough," said Judd, with a laugh. "I catch fish anddig clams. Some I eat; the rest I sell. That enables me to purchasewhat groceries and provisions I may want. I was over to the village andmade
some purchases early this morning. By and by, when thewatering-places open up, I can get odd jobs enough. I shall fare aswell as I have ever done, I assure you. I'm no pauper--not if I knowmyself. By the way, won't you have something to eat?"
Without waiting for Budd to answer, he drew up before the fire a largebox. On this he spread a cloth; then he brought out some cold ham, somefresh bread, butter, cookies, poured out another cup of coffee, andremarked:
"I've eaten supper already, but help yourself. There's more, when thisis gone."
Budd accepted his host's hospitality and made out a comfortable meal.
Then Judd said:
"I'm sorry I've no bed for you to sleep on. That old pallet is all Ibrought over, but you are welcome to that. I'll roll up in a blanketand sleep on the floor. It won't be the first time I've done it;" andsoon both boys were sound asleep.
The next morning Budd felt quite like himself; but the storm stillraged, and he was obliged to remain quietly with his new friend. Towardnoon, however, the force of the tempest was spent, and Judd announcedhis willingness to take the anxious lad over to the main-land afterdinner.
So not far from one o'clock they embarked in Judd's boat, and ahalf-hour later landed safely on "The Hummocks." Budd could find notrace of either the oxen or the missing wheels of the cart, and with aheavy heart he started off for Mr. Benton's.
As Judd parted with him he remarked:
"I say, Budd, I wouldn't be in your shoes for a good deal. There is noknowing what old Benton will do to you for losing his cart and oxen.You'd better go back to the island with me, and let him think you aredead."
"No," said Budd. "My duty is to go to him and tell him the whole story,let the consequences be what they may, and I shall do it."
"I always did admire pluck," replied Judd, in undisguised admiration,"and you have it. I'd rather take your sail of last night than go backand face the old tyrant. Only, if he kicks you off of the farm,remember you are welcome to go pards with me on the island. It's betterthan no place to lay your head."
Thanking him for the invitation, which he knew was as genuine as it wasrough, Budd turned away and walked slowly along the roadway leading toMr. Benton's, wondering greatly what that cruel and grasping man wouldreally say and do when he learned of the serious loss he had sustained.Doubtless the fact that he had been so long away had led Mr. Benton tobelieve that he had perished. Would not his providential deliverancefrom a watery grave awaken such feelings of gratitude, even in thatstony heart, that the pecuniary loss he had experienced would beforgotten by the avaricious man? Budd hoped so; and yet it was withterrible misgivings he went bravely on, to meet whatever fate might bein store for him.