The Bungalow Boys in the Great Northwest
Page 17
CHAPTER XVII.
A STRANGE ENCOUNTER.
On deck they found a scene of the wildest confusion. The wind had abatedsomewhat, but there was still a big sea running. To the east the sky wasgray and wan with the first streaks of dawn, and the waste of tumblingwaters was lighted dimly by the newborn light. Forward was a crowd ofmen, in the midst of them being Zeb Hunt. The wounded Bully Banjo hadmanaged to claw his way forward along the swaying decks also, and stoodby his mate's side, holding on to a back stay.
Mr. Chillingworth and Tom Dacre hastened forward to see what hadhappened. They found the group of seamen clustered about some figuresthat they had just hauled over the side with life belts.
"Their boat went down like a rock when we struck her," one of the crew,who had been on deck when the collision occurred, was explaining toanother, as the boy hastened past.
But the next instant he stopped short with a gasp of astonishment. Inthe center of the group of sailors and rescued persons from the smallcraft the schooner had seemingly just run down, was one that wasstrangely familiar. As Tom drew nearer he heard a youthful voice pipeup. Its owner's small form was hidden by the clustering seamen of theschooner:
"What kind of a boat is this, pa-pa?"
"This is a schooner, my child. It has just run us down," rejoined thetall, lanky figure.
"What did they run us down for, pa-pa?"
"Professor Dingle!" cried Tom, recognizing first the questioning voiceof the professor's son and heir, and then the tall, bony figure.
"Tom Dacre, my boy!" cried the professor delightedly.
"How came you here?" asked Tom.
"I might ask the same question of you," rejoined the professor. "I wascruising north toward the Aleutian peninsula in my little yawl-riggedboat, when out of the darkness this schooner came upon me and ran medown. My two faithful Kanakas and my boy and myself only managed to saveourselves by a hair's breadth."
"But how did you come to be hereabouts, professor?" asked Tom.
"Again the same question might apply to you, my lad, but the fact isthat I'm off on a scientific cruise to the Aleutian Islands in search ofrare specimens. We sailed from Victoria three days ago and ran into thatterrible storm last night."
The crew stood about grinning while the professor was making hisexplanations. They seemed to think the whole thing a rare joke, now thatthe shock of the collision was over and it had been ascertained that nodamage had been sustained by the schooner. As for the professor himself,he accepted the situation as calmly as if it were an everyday matter.His two Kanakas, brown-skinned, black-haired fellows of slender, yetathletic build--of whom more hereafter--also accepted the situation,seemingly as an unavoidable stroke of fate.
Tom introduced the professor to Mr. Chillingworth. Surely never wereintroductions gone through amid stranger surroundings! Hardly had theceremony been concluded than word came forward by one of the crew thatSimon Lake wished them all to report aft in the cabin at once.
This was not a summons to be disregarded, and, headed by Tom and theprofessor, whose inquisitive offspring clutched tightly to his hand,they started along the plunging, rolling decks. On their way aft Tomexplained the exact situation to the professor--or as much of it as hecould in the few seconds of time he had. The man of science took it withas unmoved an air as he accepted most happenings in his life.
He was vexed, though, at the interruption of his scientific expedition,which he had undertaken in the interests of the Puget Sound University,whose intention it was to form a museum of Pacific Coast flora andfauna, second to none.
"However," he remarked, with a philosophical shrug, "it is no userailing at fate. The only thing to be done is to make the best of it."
Which, incidentally, was as good a bit of philosophy as the professorcould have found in any of his books.
"And now," he concluded briskly, "let us see what sort of a man is incommand of this ship."
The first object that met their eyes as they made their way down thesteep companion stairs was not one calculated to inspire a timid manwith confidence.
The tall Chinaman, his face contorted from the pain of his tight thongs,was still secured to the stanchion. His face worked as he saw thenewcomers, and for an instant Tom thought he was going to make an appealfor mercy. But if such had been his intention, he thought better of itand remained silent. It was Simon Lake who broke the silence thatreigned as the "passengers," as they may be called, ranged themselvesalong the cabin bulkhead, awaiting Simon Lake's announcement of thecause of his summons. It was not long in coming. Lake, who was sprawledout on the lounge with Zeb Hunt at his side, eyed them a minute as if insome doubt how to begin. His hawk-like face was not improved by thebandage which now enwrapped his head.
"What makes that man look so funny, pa-pa?" whispered the professor'soffspring inquiringly.
"Hush," cautioned the professor; "he's going to speak."
"Waal, gents," began Simon Lake harshly, "we've got considerable more ofa crew on board this craft than we started out with. Ther only questionin my mind is wot ter do with yer."
Certainly Simon Lake had a way of coming to the point without beatingabout the bush, which might be imitated by some of our legal lights andother public luminaries.
As no one answered, and he did not seem to expect them to, he resumed:
"Of course, I might chuck the whole shootin' match of yer overboard. ButI ain't goin' ter do it. You, Chillingworth, I don't see as you'reentitled ter any mercy. You'd hev made it hard fer me ef yer could.You'd hev seen me ahind bars ef you'd hed yer way--wouldn't yer now?"
"Well, since you put it so directly, Simon Lake, I certainly would havedone my best to secure your being put out of business, so far as yournefarious trade is concerned."
"Ah, but yer didn't," grinned Simon Lake maliciously, "and now I've gotyer right whar I want yer--an' I'm goin' ter keep yer, too. Lucky Inailed yer afore you could carry out yer little idee of settin' therSecret Service onter me--eh?"
"He knows nothing about Sam Hartley, then," thought Tom, with a flash ofdistinct relief.
As Mr. Chillingworth made no answer except to look the rascal straighterin the eye, Lake resumed.
"Waal, luck, er fate, er providence, er whatever yer like ter call it,hez certainly turned ther tables on yer in a most re-markable way," hewent on, in a musing tone. "An' I ain't one ter fly no ways in ther faceuv providence. Here you are, and here you'll stay. I've got work fer youan' ther rest, too, whar we air a-goin'."
"And where is that, may I ask?" inquired Mr. Chillingworth.
Lake grinned.
"Why, to er delightful island thet we ought ter be raisin' at any momentnow."
But if they hoped to hear any more about their destination just then,they were disappointed, for Lake went on without any further referenceto it.
"This gent here is a perfesser, I understan'," he said. "Waal, maybeI'll hev a job fer him, too. Do you understand assaying, perfesser?"
"The science of gauging the value of the metals contained in anyore-bearing rock, do you mean?" asked the scientist.
"Waal, that's a heap o' fancy sail ter carry onter it, but ter come downter brass tacks, by Chowder, that's jes' the idee I want ter convey. Doyou understand it?"
"Why, to some extent--yes. Have you any ore you wish assayed?"
"I'll tell yer abaout thet later," said Lake, with a cunning leer. "Now,then," he resumed, "what is them two black fellers you've gotthar--Kanakas, ain't they?"
The professor nodded.
"I hope you mean them no harm," he said. "They are faithful,hard-working fellows, and excellent sailors. Their names are Monday andTuesday, so called after the days on which they were hired."
"Das so. Yes, boss, das so, fer a fac'," said one of the South Seanatives, pulling his black silky forelock in true sailor fashion.
"I reckon we kin fin' work fer them, too," decided Lake. "Yer see, it'sjes' this way: Whar we're goin' every one hez
ter work, er else starve.I reckon you'd rather work then starve, so I'm goin' ter give yer all achance."
"One question, Lake," put in the rancher. "I've a home and wife backyonder on the Sound. In mercy's name, tell me, and tell me the truth--amI ever going to see them again?"
Lake looked at him curiously, and then the wretch deliberately rose tohis feet.
"Reckon the weather's clearin' quite a bit, Zeb," he said, withouttaking the slightest notice of the perturbed rancher. "We'd best begittin' on deck. By the bye," he said suddenly turning to Tom, "you didme a sarvice with that thar yaller devil. I'll not forget it."
He started for the companionway stairs followed by Zeb. It was hisevident intention to pay no heed to Mr. Chillingworth. But the rancherintercepted him.
"As you are human, Lake," he pleaded, "answer my question. Think, man,what it means to me--to my wife----"
He stopped short, evidently afraid to trust his voice further. Laketurned and met his outburst with a cruel smile.
"We're reckonin' on hevin' yer with us fer quite a stay, Chillingworth,"he said, setting his foot on the bottom step of the companionway, "somake up yer mind ter thet. We need yer ranch, and----"
Before he could add another word Chillingworth's form was hurtlingacross the cabin. The rancher, distracted for the moment by his wrongs,flew at the bully like a wild beast. Lake staggered and almost fellunder the unexpected onslaught, but the next instant he recoveredhimself and drew and leveled a pistol. That moment might have been therancher's last, but for Zeb Hunt. At the same instant as Lake drew hisrevolver, the mate of the schooner raised his heavy-booted foot anddealt Mr. Chillingworth a brutal kick in the pit of the stomach. As thepistol exploded the rancher sank down in a heap, groaning in agony. Thebullet flew by Tom's ear and buried itself in a panel of the cabin.
"Thet's what any uv ther rest uv yer'll git ef yer try ter cut up monkeyshines, by Heck!" snarled Lake, blowing the smoke from the barrel of hisrevolver with the utmost calmness.
While Tom sprang forward to aid the suffering rancher, Lake and Zeb Huntproceeded to the deck. Under the lad's ministrations Mr. Chillingworthpresently grew somewhat better, and Tom and the professor managed tohelp him into his cabin, where they laid him out on a bunk.
While they were all in the small stateroom, even the two Kanakas, whoseemed to dislike the idea of being left alone, being with them, therecame a sudden click of the lock of the door.
Tom, guessing what had happened, but still not permitting himself tobelieve it, sprang to the portal. He shook it furiously, but it resistedhis efforts to open it.
"Prisoners!" he gasped. "They've locked the door!"
Realizing that it was no use attempting to force the portal open, theydecided to await Lake's pleasure in the matter of opening it. In themeantime, they turned once more to the subject of a possible chance forescape.
"One thing is certain," the professor decided, at the end of thediscussion of a dozen or more plans, "we are in no immediate danger. Itis equally certain that we can do nothing while we are on board theschooner. The only thing to do is to wait till we reach this island.When we know just what is going to happen to us we can formulate plansbetter, in the meantime we----"
He stopped short. There was a trampling of feet in the cabin outside. Itsounded as if a struggle were in progress. For an instant a voice brokeout in wild pleadings--or so it seemed--but the cries were suddenlyhushed as if a hand had been placed over the mouth of whoever wasuttering them.
Then the trampling ceased and the sound of footsteps ascending thecompanion stairway could be heard. All this the prisoners in the cabinhad heard in silence. As the sounds died away Tom turned to the others.
"It must have been that Chinaman! They----"
A sudden piercing scream assailed their ears. Their cheeks whitened asthey heard it, so wild and ringing and appealing was the cry.
It was succeeded by deadly silence. What could have occurred? They allhad a guess in their minds, but none of them dared to voice it. Onething, though, Tom was certain of, and that was that the cry had comefrom the deck. In that case----
But at this point of his meditations the cabin door was suddenly flungopen and Zeb's unwieldy form stood framed in the doorway.
"You kin come out now," he said.
Was it Tom's imagination, or did the mate's voice seem less blusterythan usual, and his cheeks not quite so red? Suddenly Lake's voice camehailing down from the head of the companion stairs:
"On deck here, Zeb. We'll be makin' a landfall soon."
It seemed to Tom that Lake's voice, too, was subdued and quiet. It heldalmost a quaver. But he had little time for noticing these things, for,as they emerged from the cabin--with Mr. Chillingworth, who was nowalmost recovered--there came a sudden electrifying hail:
"Land ho!"
"Where away?" came Lake's roar from above.
"Two points off'n the sta'bo'd bow," came back the answer from somewhereforward.
As the castaways, excited by the sensation that the end of their strangevoyage was in sight, sprang up the companion stairs, Tom noted onething.
The cabin was empty of life. At the foot of the stanchion, to which theChinaman had been tied, the ropes which had bound him lay in an untidytangle. But the man himself was gone, nor did they ever see him again.