Read Jack Harvey's Adventures; or, The Rival Campers Among the Oyster Pirates Page 16


  CHAPTER XV HENRY BURNS IN TROUBLE

  Will Adams, stirring the coals in the fireplace of his cheerydining-room, added two sticks of oak to the blaze, resumed his seat andaddressed his guests.

  "I've been wishing for years," he said, "that I could have a chance tocatch one of these dredging pirates that misuse their men so. Why, I'velain in bed on summer nights and heard those poor fellows out aboardbegging for mercy--and I couldn't do anything to help them. It's hard tocatch a captain in the act of beating a man, and they have all kinds oftricks to escape; the worst ones stand together and help one another out.But we'll get this man, Haley, because he comes into the river, you say.I don't remember him, at all, but I think I know the boat, as youdescribe it."

  "We'll get a warrant for him, the first thing," said Edward Warren.

  "Well, that's what we'll have to depend on," replied Will Adams; "butthat's a slow process, and we may be able to do better, in the meantime,ourselves. We want to get young Harvey, right off, before he has any moreof Haley's rough handling.

  "I'll tell you what we'll do, Ed. You take the boat, day after to-morrow,for Baltimore, swear out the warrant, and get back here as quick as everyou can. That will start the authorities after the fellow. But I warnyou, they're rather slow. They'll have to put a steamer on Haley's trail,to make sure.

  "You see, news has a way of leaking out up in Baltimore. I don't know howthey do it--politics, I suppose. But as soon as a warrant is out,somebody gets word of it on the water-front and then the news travelsdown the bay like wildfire. One captain passes it along to another. Why,the chances are, Haley might have young Harvey out of the way aboard someother craft, or set ashore down in the Eastern shore swamps, before anypolice captain came up with him.

  "That's why I say I hope we can get the boy off, ourselves, in themeantime. Now I've got a sloop up in the creek back of Solomon's Island,that I can fit out and have ready by to-morrow afternoon. She's a goodone, too, is the old Mollie. She's fast, and she can go across the bay inanything that ever blew; thirty-seven feet long; a good, roomy cabin thatwill sleep six of us easy, and seven on a pinch, by making up some bedson the cabin floor. She'll carry sail, too, and if it comes to a brushbetween us and Haley's craft, why the Mollie will show up surprisingly.He'd have hard work to give us the slip, altogether, unless night cameon.

  "Yes, sir," exclaimed Will Adams, arising and squaring his broadshoulders, "we'll fit out the Mollie like a regular sloop-of-war. I'vegot three shot-guns and any number of revolvers, and you've got a goodrifle, Ed. Why, we could show enough force to capture a Malay pirate, letalone Haley. We may get him easier than that, right here in theriver--and then again we may not. We'll be ready for anything. What doyou say?"

  "Well," said Edward Warren, "I'm for capturing the man wherever he showshimself, if we can; but I'm not so sure that I ought to let theseyoungsters run the risk of getting into a fight like that."

  Will Adams smiled.

  "Perhaps I put it a little bit strong," he said. "I don't really thinkthere would be very much fight about it. Haley is a coward, I'll ventureto say, if it comes to a pinch. Most bull-dozing men like that are. Wewon't give him a chance to fight, if we can help it; just take him of asudden, and he'll give up."

  "Don't you worry about us, Cousin Ed," said George Warren. "We are oldenough to take care of ourselves. We don't mind running some risk, if wecan only get Jack out of his scrape."

  "Well," replied Edward Warren, "you fit up the Mollie, Will, and waittill I get back from Baltimore before you start off anywhere. Then we'llsee."

  "I wish we could start to-night," said Henry Burns.

  It was surprising, the change that had come over this usually coolest andmost deliberate of the boys. He and Jack Harvey had not always beenfriends; but now that circumstances had brought them together, and theyhad cemented their friendship by a summer together and a partnership in afishing enterprise, they were loyal comrades. Henry Burns would have setout on the moment, for Solomon's Island and the sloop Mollie, and haveworked all night to get her ready, if Will Adams had only said the word.

  But there was, plainly, nothing to be done until morning; and so, with ahearty handshake all round, the boys and Edward Warren left the big houseon Drum Point and headed homeward across the river in the canoe.

  There was no time lost, on the following morning, however. They were upand across the river at an early hour; and, taking Will Adams into thecanoe, they all went along by the shore into the creek where the Mollielay at her mooring. She was stripped of her sails and some of herrigging, out of commission for the winter season.

  The young yachtsmen recognized her for what she was, a smart sea boat;and they went to work with a will to assist in getting her ready forcruising. From a loft on Solomon's Island they carried down the bigmain-sail and the jibs and a single topsail. They lugged the biganchor-rode and two anchors, including a spare one, carried foremergency, down to the shore, and rowed the stuff out aboard. Theyassisted in bending on the sails; lacing them to boom and gaff; inreeving rigging; splicing a rope here and there; trying the pump andputting on a fresh leather to the sucker rod; greasing the foot of themast, where the hoops chafed; putting aboard water jugs and sparerigging--in short, the score and more things that went to make the craftfit and safe for winter cruising.

  By early afternoon, the sloop, Mollie, was spick and clean andship-shape, with a brand new main-sheet and topping-lift, that wouldstand a winter's squall; her ballast stowed in, as some of it had beentaken ashore. Everything was in readiness for the cruise, even to thestarboard and port lights, for use at night, and some charts of the bayprovided by Will Adams. They locked the cabin, and went back in thecanoe, first to Will Adams's landing and then across to the other shore.George Warren held the tiller, in the absence of Edward Warren, who hadremained at home, preparing for his trip to Baltimore the followingmorning.

  Through all that afternoon and until darkness settled over the river,there was not a half hour that did not find Henry Burns either at awindow or out in the dooryard, gazing off through Edward Warren'sspy-glass. He looked longingly for the sight of a craft, the image ofwhich, with its exact lines and the cut of its sails, was clear anddistinct in his mind.

  George Warren pointed out at him, once, and called Edward Warren to look.

  "He's all cut up about poor Jack," he said. "I never saw him so worked upabout anything. You'd better hurry back from Baltimore, Cousin Ed, orhe'll be sailing off alone in the Mollie after Haley's bug-eye."

  Edward Warren laughed.

  "I'll risk that," he said. "Don't you boys worry; we'll get Haley, allright. We'll have young Harvey ashore here before many days, or I miss myguess."

  That very afternoon, the bug-eye, Z. B. Brandt, was coming slowly up thecoast, heading for Cedar Point, the lighthouse on which marked theturning-point for vessels bound into the Patuxent. Hamilton Haley,sitting gloomily at the wheel, turned a sour face upon the mate, as thelatter stepped near.

  "I never did see such all-fired mean luck since I took to dredging!" heburst out, glowering at the mate, as though Jim Adams were in some way atfault. "First it's that sneaking foreigner, that we took to help Billout, that gets away. Who'd have thought he'd ever swum for it, a nightlike that, and all that way from shore? I hope he drowned! I hope hedrowned and the dog-fish ate him. That's what."

  "He'd make pow'ful bad eatin', I reckon," suggested Jim Adams.

  "Yes, but he could have turned a handle of the winch like a soldier,"said Haley. "And he's a dead loss, being as I'm bound by the law as wemake ourselves, and swear to, to leave Sam Black aboard Bill's boat, solong as I've gone and lost Bill's man."

  "I didn't think that youngster, Harvey, and that business chap, Edwards,had the nerve to do what they did," said Jim Adams.

  Hamilton Haley snorted. The subject was like a match to gun-powder.

  "'Twas that young rascal, Harvey, that did it!" he cried. "I didn't beathim up enough. I wi
sh as how I had him lashed up for'ard there now.'Tother chap wouldn't have gone and done it. 'Twas the youngster's work.And p'raps it didn't cost me a penny!"

  Haley pointed, with high indignation, to a new hatch which replaced theone on which Harvey and Tom Edwards had floated to shore.

  "Seven dollars for that!" he exclaimed, "to say nothing of the time ittook to make it. And ten dollars apiece to Artie Jenkins for the two of'em that's gone. And Sam Black worth as much more. I tell you it ain'tright for a poor dredger, as earns his money by hard work and tends tobusiness, to get such luck as that dealt out to him."

  Haley was half whining. From his view-point, the fates had, indeed, beenunkind.

  "There's someone coming down," remarked the mate.

  Haley took a long look ahead, at a craft visible nearly a mile away.

  "It's Tom Noyes's boat," he said, finally. "I'd know his masts anywhere."

  The other craft, a bug-eye somewhat smaller than the Brandt, came dead ontoward them. The distance between them rapidly diminished, and they camepresently within hailing distance. The other craft did not merely hail,however. It came up into the wind and lowered a boat. Haley brought theBrandt into the wind, also, and the small boat came alongside. A manstepped aboard and said something to Haley. The latter jumped as though ashot had been fired at him. A grin of satisfaction overspread his dullface.

  "You don't mean it, Tom!" he cried. "Hooray! I'd rather get him than tenbushels of oysters in one heap. Come below. Jim, you take the wheel."

  The two captains descended into the cabin, leaving Jim Adams to hold thebug-eye into the wind. They remained below some minutes, conversingearnestly; and when they reappeared Haley was in a good humour that madeJim Adams stare.

  "Jim," he said, slapping the mate on the shoulder with a jocularity allunusual to him, "you're a right good mate. We're going up the riverto-night--away up. We're going to ship a good man--a right good man, Jim.You never saw such a rare fellow at a winder as he'll be. Ho! Ho! Ireckon the rest of 'em won't have to work at all with him aboard.Good-bye, Cap'n Tom. I'll see you down on the Eastern shore. We're goingto quit around here. The reefs seem all played out. Good luck!"

  Haley, seeing his guest off, turned to Jim Adams and proceeded to impartto him a piece of information that brought a broad smile to his features,also. The two had emerged thus suddenly from the depths of gloom anddiscouragement into a feeling almost of hilarity. The bug-eye was broughtby the wind once more, and they went on up the bay.

  The night falling, Henry Burns, up at the old farmhouse, gave overlooking for any sail and went in to supper. It was a serious lookingparty at table that night. The next few days might mean much to them, orlittle, according as fortune favoured. The boys urged upon Edward Warrento lose no time in returning to them.

  "And you look out for yourselves, while I'm away," he cautioned. "If yousee anything of Haley, just take the canoe and scoot for Drum Point. Thenlet Will Adams handle the thing. He's careful and he knows everybodyaround here, and just what to do."

  "We will," replied George Warren. "We'll be all right. Don't you worry."

  They were off to bed in good season, though Henry Burns would have sat upand gone down to the shore from time to time. He was persuaded by EdwardWarren that it were better to turn out at daybreak and look for thevessel, before she should get under weigh, if she should happen to comein during the night.

  Henry Burns was usually the soundest of sleepers. He had a way ofdismissing care for a night, when he knew there could be nothing affectedby lying awake. He could have slept at sea in the hardest of storms, oncesatisfied that the vessel was staunch and weathering the gale. Butto-night it was different. He had at first suggested that they watchthrough the night, by turns; but Edward Warren had not approved. His mindwas set on the warrant and the action by the authorities.

  Therefore, Henry Burns was restless. Once he arose and sat for a time bythe window, Young Joe slumbering peacefully in the bed. The moon wasbeginning to show above the horizon, and it made a fine sight. But HenryBurns thought of Jack Harvey out aboard Haley's bug-eye, and the nighthad little of beauty in it for him. He turned in and slept, lightly, foran hour or two. Then the impulse to arise again was too strong. He creptout of bed, wrapped a blanket about him, and seated himself in a bigarmchair by the window.

  Sleep overtook him as he sat there, with the picture of the moonlight,lying across the river in a great flooding pathway, before his eyes asthey closed.

  Again he awoke. The picture was still there. The moon had risen higher,however, and the pathway of silver light across the river was morediffused. The river rippled and danced beneath the mellow flood. But thepicture was not just the same, either. There was something in it which hehad not seen before--the masts and rigging of a vessel, clearly outlinedin the moonlight. Henry Burns gave one look, rubbed his eyes to convincehimself that he was really awake, then sprang to his feet.

  "It's the Brandt," he said, softly. "I can't be mistaken. I'll just slipdown and make sure."

  It was, indeed, Haley's bug-eye, anchored for an hour, for Haley to pickup some stuff he had left up on the bank--a bit of rigging and a smallanchor he had bought--for he would not stop on his way down the river,but would make all sail for the Eastern shore.

  Henry Burns dressed himself hurriedly, but quietly, without waking YoungJoe. He would make sure, before arousing the household. If he should getthem up and then prove to be mistaken, he knew what Edward Warren wouldthink. He was warmly clad, but he found a short reefer, which was athick, warm overcoat, on the rack in the hall below, and he put that on,for the night was sharp.

  Cautiously, he slipped the bolt of the front door and stole out of thehouse, closing the door gently after him. Then he set off for the shoreat a rapid pace.

  He came to the bank overlooking the river, shortly, and crouched down bysome bushes, looking off at the vessel carefully. He was sure he couldnot be mistaken in her. She lay not over quarter of a mile off shore, andhe could see her lines and rig sharply defined.

  "I'd stake my half of the Viking on its being the Brandt," he murmured."I'd like just one glimpse of her name, though, to make sure."

  As he spoke the words, there flashed into his mind the idea of going outto see. It was easy. There was the skiff that went with the canoe, onlong trips. It lay at a stake, just a few feet from the canoe. He knewwhere the sculling oar was hidden, under a log at the foot of the bank.Henry Burns arose and stole quickly down to the shore, a short distanceup river from where he had been hiding. In a moment more, he was seatedin the skiff.

  He was no novice in small boat handling. It was the work of but a fewminutes for him to be close upon the bug-eye. He waited a moment, a fewrods away, listening intently. There was no sound aboard. There was nolight showing. He drew nearer, and drifted alongside. There was nomistaking the craft now. There, in dull and worn lettering, but plainlyto be read, was the name on the bow, "Z. B. Brandt."

  It was an exciting moment for Henry Burns. Two ideas met in conflict inhis brain. One was, to hasten ashore and alarm the Warren household; theother, to slip aboard the vessel and see if he could not arouse Harvey inthe forecastle, and carry him off triumphantly then and there. The secondidea overmastered him. It was too tempting to be resisted. Think ofappearing in one brief half-hour at the old house, presenting Jack Harveyto their astonished gaze and saying, proudly, "Here he is--and without awarrant."

  Henry Burns, cool enough at a crisis, made his skiff fast forward, andclimbed aboard. Another moment, and he had stepped to the companion-wayand slipped below.

  At the same moment, two figures on the shore, who had been watching hismanoeuvres, in astonishment and wrath, stepped into another skiff and oneof them sculled harder than he had ever sculled before, for the bug-eye.

  Henry Burns, groping down into the forecastle, called softly, "Jack, JackHarvey. Jack, old boy, where are you?" There was no response, only a stirin one of the bunks and a murmur from some drowsy sleeper. The sailors ofthe Brandt, worn out
with work, were seizing the short stop on the way upthe river for a snatch of sleep, and were slumbering as only tiredsailors can.

  Henry Burns felt through his pockets and produced a match, which helighted and held to the faces of three of the sleepers in turn. No JackHarvey! The match burned out, and he lighted another, and yet one more.When he had seen the last match flicker out on the face of the oneremaining man in the forecastle, and that one was not Jack Harvey, HenryBurns felt his heart drop clear down till it seemed to leave his body. Asense of disappointment and alarm overpowered him. His legs were weak.There was no Jack Harvey in the forecastle! What had become of him?

  Henry Burns, his brain in a whirl, climbed the companion steps weakly. Heput his hand on the side of the hatch at the top and took one step ondeck. As he did so, a rough hand grasped his wrist; another seized uponhis throat so he could utter no sound, while the hoarse voice of HamiltonHaley sounded in his ears, "You little thief! Stealing, eh? I know youyoung shore-rats, always looking for a chance to run off with stuff. Youwon't get away so easy this time. You'll get a bit of dredging for this.Hang you! You can cull oysters, if you give out at the winders. Takethat, and stay below till you're called for."

  The heavy fist of Hamilton Haley shot out. Henry Burns, sent spinningdown the companion way by the blow, landed in a heap on the forecastlefloor, stunned, senseless. A moment more, and he was tossed into a bunklike a sack of dunnage. There was a call for the crew to turn out.

  The bug-eye, Brandt, was going on up the river--not secretly this time,under cover of fog, but boldly in the full moonlight, in the middle ofthe river, getting the benefit of the flood tide, coming in with therising moon.

  Captain Hamilton Haley had nothing to hide--not now. He was merely goingafter another recruit. And he had gained still another, all unexpectedly.Luck seemed to be turning.