The Blue Dragon: A Tale of Recent Adventure in China

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER X

  WHAT HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO CHINA

  Of course, the telegram purporting to come from the Chinese secretaryof legation, by which Jo had been lured to New York, was a forgery; norhad either of those intrusted by him to the bogus messenger-boy, whodelivered it, ever been forwarded to its address. Thus, Jo's Hattonfriends had no idea that he had left S----, but supposed him to be therein company with Mr. Wang. They were well satisfied that this should beso for a time, and Rob was especially glad; for whenever he met any ofthe muckers they were sure to call out:

  "Say, saphead, where's yer Chinee? Don't yer dare let him out, for fearhe'll get hurted? Yer scared to be seen on the street with him, that'swhat's the matter! Yer needn't be, though, fer we wouldn't tech him witha ten-foot pole, specially if yer'd muzzle him and lead him by a chain,same as they do all the other big monkeys. Bet yer don't know where heis! Bet he's got woozy and runned away! He'd better stay away, too, orwe'll fix him good!"

  So, for about a week, Rob was not sorry to have his friend in a placethat promised a greater safety than Hatton. At the end of that time,however, the Hinckley family began to wonder why they did not hear fromtheir young guest, and Rob wrote him a letter, that he sent to the hotelin S----. It was promptly returned, with a note from the proprietorstating that the Chinese lad only had stayed in his house one day, andthen had disappeared, but that a telegram for him lay unclaimed in theoffice.

  Mr. Hinckley at once sent for this telegram, which proved to be fromMr. Wang, dated at Boston, stating that he should be unable to revisitS----, and advising Jo's immediate return to Hatton. It was a week old.Upon this Mr. Hinckley telegraphed to Washington, only to receive wordthat Mr. Wang was travelling in the South and would not be back fora month. Inquiries for the missing lad were now set on foot in everydirection, but no clew to his whereabouts could be found; nor was it forlong months after his disappearance that its mystery was cleared away.

  In the mean time, much as our Hatton friends were troubled by theiryoung guest's unexplained vanishing, their attention was largelydiverted from it by news from China that Dr. Hinckley was seriously ill.The first intimation of this came in a letter that told of his failinghealth and of his plan to seek its restoration through a visit toAmerica.

  "Won't it be fine!" exclaimed Rob, "to have them here? Father'll be sureto get well as soon as he sights the Connecticut Valley. Its air alwayshas made a new man of him."

  For a whole day he revelled in these happy anticipations. Then came thefateful cablegram that in a moment swept away his light-heartedness andchanged the whole current of his life. It was from his mother, and wasin the private code that his parents had prepared when they left himin Hatton. In all the years since then he had been obliged to refer tothis code but twice; for people living on small salaries cannot oftenafford to send messages costing several dollars per word, with bothaddress and signature to be paid for at full rates. The present messagethat had been flashed from far-away China, across Asia, under the IndianOcean, the Red Sea, and the Mediterranean, across Europe and under theAtlantic, read as follows:

  "Syntax, Boston.--Fable, garnet, hazel."

  The word "Syntax" had, from the first, been registered in the WesternUnion office at Boston, to save the expense of cabling the name of theState in which Hatton was located, and it meant, "Rev. William Hinckley,Hatton," to which address the despatch had been forwarded at an extracharge of twenty-five cents.

  "Bring the code-book, quick, Rob!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, as thismessage dropped like a bombshell into the quiet circle gathered inthe pleasant parsonage parlor that evening. Rob had been studying hislessons for the next day, his uncle was reading, and Mrs. Hinckleyhappened to be writing a letter to China.

  In a few seconds the boy had dashed up-stairs and was back with thealphabetically arranged code-book.

  "Fable?" said his uncle, and Rob, turning to the F's, ran his fingerhastily down the long column.

  "Oh!" he gasped, "Fable means, 'Mason too ill to travel.'"

  "Garnet?" continued Mr. Hinckley, huskily.

  "Garnet means, 'Wants to see Rob before he dies.' Do you believe it canbe as bad as that, Uncle Will?" and a choking sob rose in the boy'sthroat.

  "First find the meaning of 'Hazel,' and then we will talk about it,"replied Mr. Hinckley.

  "Hazel," replied Rob, in another moment, "means, 'Send Rob to us atonce.'"

  "Oh, Rob! my dear, dear boy!" cried Mrs. Hinckley. "It is terrible foryou, and it is going to be dreadfully hard to give you up, for you havebecome as our own son."

  "But we must give him up, and that at once," said her husband,sorrowfully, "since the meaning of this despatch cannot for a moment bemisunderstood. Mason's illness must have taken such a sudden turn forthe worse that his life is endangered. They evidently hope, though, toprolong it for some weeks, at least, or Fanny would not send for Rob.She knows that he cannot, under the most favorable conditions, reach herin less than a month."

  "But in case of the worst, she would want Rob with her," suggested Mrs.Hinckley.

  "In that case she would come to him, for, with Mason dead, there wouldbe nothing to keep her in China."

  "That's so," said Rob, hopefully. "I hadn't thought of that. When do youthink I can start, Uncle Will? I suppose we'll have to telegraph allthe different companies to find out which of them sends out the firststeamer."

  "That would be expensive and take time," replied Mr. Hinckley. "Ibelieve we can do better. The Post-Office Department keeps track of thesailing dates of all steamers that carry mails, in order that lettersmay be despatched as often and as quickly as possible. So, though ourpost-office must be closed by this hour, I will go over to PostmasterGarrett's house, and see if he hasn't a printed slip giving the sailingdates of Pacific steamers for the next few weeks. While I am gone, youand your aunt can be getting your things together ready for packing."

  With this Mr. Hinckley was about to leave the house, when his wife said:

  "Why, William, those post-office notices are always published in theBoston papers, and there is yesterday's lying on the table."

  "So it is!" exclaimed Mr. Hinckley, picking up the paper as he spoke."How stupid I am! Yes, here is the very thing we want: 'China andJapan, _via_ Tacoma, mails close 5 P.M. on the 6th, steamship_Oriental._.' That is to-morrow, and it means that mails will be takenon the evening express which reaches Albany about midnight. There itmeets and makes part of the New York night express for Chicago. FromChicago they will go to St. Paul, and then, by way of the NorthernPacific Coast, Limited, to Tacoma, reaching there on the 10th, whichundoubtedly is the _Oriental's_ sailing date. At any rate, Rob, so longas you go with the mail you are bound to be travelling the quickestpossible way. To catch the Boston express, you must go to Albany by thenoon train to-morrow. I shall go with you that far, and we will make allyour ticket arrangements there."

  Thus, within fifteen minutes from the time that fateful cablegram foundRob Hinckley quietly studying lessons for the morrow, and expecting todo little else for many months more, school had become a thing of theseemingly remote past, and he was a traveller bound on a journey thatwould take him half-way around the world. Moreover, the earlier detailsof this journey were already planned, and he was to set forth within afew hours. It is no wonder that he got but little sleep that night, northat he was up at daylight packing his trunk and sorting out certaincherished possessions that he meant to distribute as keepsakes among hisboy friends.

  He went to school at the usual hour, but only to announce his departureto the masters, say good-bye, and collect his books. The head-masterrequested him to wait a few minutes and accompany him to the great hallwhere the entire school assembled for morning prayer. There, to Rob'sembarrassment, he was conducted to a seat of honor on the platform,from which the master gave notice of his coming departure, stated itssad cause, said some very flattering things about Rob himself, andthen asked the school to join him in an earnest prayer for their youngfriend's safety during the tremendo
us journey he was about to undertake,and that at its end he not only might find his dear father alive, butrestored to health.

  At the conclusion of this prayer tears stood in Rob's eyes and in thoseof many of his young friends as well. He wanted, before leaving, to saygood-bye to the whole body of his school-mates, as he did not expect tosee any of them again; but he did not exactly know how to do so, and wasimmensely relieved when the head-master further said:

  "Robert is to leave Hatton by the noon train to-day, and in order thathis friends here gathered may have the opportunity, which I am sure theydesire, of bidding him farewell and seeing him off, all classes will bedismissed at eleven clock."

  As a result of this thoughtful provision, for nearly an hour precedingthe departure of the Albany train the little Hatton railway-stationpresented one of the liveliest scenes in its history, and Rob wasgreatly affected by the innumerable evidences of esteem showered uponhim by his school-mates. When the train finally pulled out, with ourlad waving his hat from the rear platform of its last car, it was to anaccompaniment of a hurricane of cheers and farewell shouts.

  "Who is the most popular fellow in Hatton?" cried the leader of theacademy rooters.

  "R-O-B, Rob! H-I-N-C-K-L-E-Y, Hinckley! ROBHINCKLEY! Hi-ho! Hi-ho! GOOD-BYE!" was the answer shoutedforth in tremendous chorus by every boy and girl present; and this wasour young traveller's final farewell from the place that seemed his homemore than any other in all the world.

  For three days after leaving Albany, Rob journeyed swiftly and withoutuntoward incident past Buffalo and Chicago, up into the great Northwest,through St. Paul, amid the vast wheat-fields of Minnesota and the RedRiver valley, over the limitless prairies of North Dakota, through the"Bad Lands" bordering the Little Missouri, and into the incredibly richcopper regions of Montana. Then came the dreadful day on which he losthis train, and with it all hope of catching the only advertised steamerto leave the "coast" for a week. It happened at Helena, where the trainwas to remain for fifteen minutes; and Rob, tired with being so longshut up in a car, decided to take a brisk walk into the town. He wantedto see something of the place, and needed the exercise.

  So he set forth, walked as far as he dared, allowed too narrow a marginof time for his return, missed his way, and finally regained thestation only to see his train pulling out from its farther end. Fora second he could not believe his eyes. Then he ran madly after thedisappearing cars, screaming for them to stop. Even in the blindness ofhis excitement a moment of this effort convinced him of its folly, andhe halted on the edge of the platform, while two great, scalding tears,that he had no heart to repress, coursed slowly down his cheeks.