CHAPTER VI.
ON THE SCENT.
Fritz had been stunned a little, even after tumbling off from theyelping Irishman; still, he had sense enough to struggle to his feeton seeing the smugglers rush from the building.
"Shut oop!" he cried, addressing Grogan. "The smugglers are upon us!Draw your wippons, if you have any, and fire!"
"Dom tha wippons!" Grogan howled, refusing to hear to reason. "Och!holy Vargin! it's kilt sure I am ontirely!"
"Helloo! what the devil is the matter here?" the captain shouted,waving his lantern on high. "Who is it that's making all this noise?"
"Spies--detectives!" suggested one of his companions. "Shoot 'emdown!"
"Hurrah! Death to the spy!" cried a third, and then they made a rushforward and seized upon Pat, despite his lively use of his "bit o'buckthorn" on the defensive.
Perceiving that he was not seen, Fritz crawled softly away to a safedistance, and then paused to gaze back.
The yelling had ceased in the vicinity of the house, and the lanternlight had disappeared from view, leaving naught but blank darkness andthe pouring rain, which came down monotonously but heavily.
"I'll bet a half-dollar dot they've choked der life oud off dot duke'sson-off-a-gun," Fritz muttered, creeping under the cover of a densetree. "I vonder off I proke any of his pones ven I lit on him. Byshimminy! he must haff a gonstitution like a mule, or I'd 'a' smashedhim all to sausage meat."
Evidently something was to pay, for, except the sound of the storm andthe dashing of the ocean against the bluff, all was quiet. Thesmugglers had either killed Grogan on the spot or taken him back intothe house with them.
And poor Hartly--what had become of him?
That was the question which troubled Fritz far more than the fate ofthe lean man from Kilkenny.
"He vas a gone-up goose now anyhow, und I don'd suppose id vil do somegreat deal off good to vorry apoud him, only I vish I could haff savedhim," he mused.
It was a wild night at the best, and Fritz heartily wished that he wasback in Philadelphia, sitting in the old pawnbroker-shop, beside hisgirl, Rebecca.
Still, he would not willingly have given up what he had learned inreference to the smugglers' league for a good deal, and he wasresolved to hang to the matter attentively, until he should be able totrip and trap the rogues and break up their existence as anorganization.
Knowing of no other available shelter in the vicinity, he resolved tolinger under the tree until the smugglers should leave the building,when he would once more take possession.
The night was well advanced, however, when he heard them leave in abody, and start off down the lonely road.
On first thought, he was tempted to follow them, but a cold blast ofwind from off the ocean warned him that he was wet to the skin, andthe best thing he could do would be to get under roof and dry off.
He accordingly went back into the deserted house, and sat down in thelower hall. Though not cowardly, he had no desire to keep furthercompany with the grinning skull of the late lamented Budge, whoeverhe may have been.
Rolling up one end of the old carpet he converted it into a sort ofpillow, and lay down, out of the draft.
Sleep soon came to his relief, and he slept soundly until morning,when he was awakened by the sun shining in his face, through a rearhall window.
Rising, he went out-of-doors to reconnoiter, and consider what wasbest to do next.
It was a clear, glorious morning after the storm; the sun shonebrightly, and a soft salt breeze blew off from the ocean, which was atonce refreshing and invigorating.
But it was not this sort of refreshment that Fritz now yearned for. Hehad had nothing to eat since the previous morning, and was decidedlyhungry and faint.
"Dose fellers don'd vas can live a good vays from here, vot I saw,last night," he mused, "but, ten to one uff I ask 'em for somedings toeat, dey bounce me oud."
He advanced to the northern edge of the bluff, and took a look in thatdirection.
To his surprise he saw, not more than a half mile away, a littlevillage, nestling near the beach.
This village, for charity's sake, we will call Millburg, as that namewill answer quite us well as any other.
There might have been a hundred buildings, all told, and it wasevidently a fishing hamlet, as a number of small boats, and smacks,were drawn up along the beach.
Just outside the breakers, an ocean steamship, of small size and trimbuild, was anchored. Upon her sides was painted in large letters theword, "Countess."
"I don'd know petter I go down there, or not," Fritz muttered, gazingdown upon the village. "I don'd vas know, neider, vich job I betterlook to, first--der smuggler pizness, or der girl pizness. For derlatter I haff der bromise of five t'ousand dollars--for der former, Ilike ash not get paid off mit a proken head. Still I don'd vant toleave dis blace ondil I trip und trap der game, und turn id over toder law, for dis is der whole game, sure!"
After some deliberation he decided to go down to the village. Thepeople would not offer him any molestation, probably, unless he gavethem cause to suspect him, and he resolved to be constantly upon hisguard.
Descending from the bluff, he walked along the beach, and finallyentered the little burg.
It was rather a rough-looking place, built up of weather-worn woodenshanties, a few stores, and a sort of tavern.
There were, however, two imposing residences, on opposite sides of theonly street, which were built of stone, and set down in large shadedlawns.
Passing up the street, Fritz was the target for many curious glancesof rough-looking men, who sat in their doorways, but, paying noattention to them, he entered the tavern and purchased his breakfast,to which he was able to do full justice.
Afterward he came out in the bar-room and sat down.
A half a dozen rough-looking fellows were lounging about, who, tojudge from their looks, were in the habit of ingulfing more grog thanwas good for them.
Then the landlord, who kept a close watch over them, was the fattestspecimen of manhood Fritz had seen; his girth was something enormous.He was not a villainous-looking man, like the rest, and this factimpressed Fritz more favorably than anything else he saw about thepremises.
During the forenoon a well-dressed, fine-looking man, with iron-grayhair and mustache, galloped up to the tavern on horseback. He lookedas if he had been reared in luxury, for there was that haughtiness ofmien that betokened the arrogant aristocrat.
"Good-morning, John," he said, as the tavern-keeper waddled to thedoor. "Will you send up a basket of champagne during the day, and abarrel of good ale--the champy for her ladyship, the countess, youknow, and the ale for the villagers. Going to have a sort of ajollification at the lawn to-night, you know, in honor of the arrivalof the countess, and want you all to turn out."
Then he galloped on, quite as airily as he had come.
"Who vas dot big-feelin' rooster?" Fritz asked, when John re-enteredthe tavern.
"That? Why, that's Honorable Granby Greyville," the fat manreplied--"the rich haristocrat who owns most of the land hereabouts. Aright big-feeling man, too, as you say."
"Granby Greyville, eh?" Fritz commented, under his breath. "Vel, dotish funny. I thought sure dot was Captain Gregg, der smuggler, und Idon'd vas so much foolished apoud it yet. I'll pet a half-dollar Ifind oud somedings pefore I leave der blace."
Resolved to remain a few days in the village for the purpose ofprospecting, Fritz made himself at home about the hotel.
One suspicion after another was gradually occurring to him, and he wasnot slow to give them a thorough consideration prior to putting themto test.
Of all things, he was desirous of attending the "jollification," asthe horseman had termed it, with a view of seeing the countess, who,he learned, had lately arrived from England, in her own steamship, fora few weeks' stay upon the Atlantic coast, and a visit to herprospective husband, Greyville.
During the afternoon a man entered the tavern, who evidently had"blood in his eye.
" His whole appearance seemed to indicate that hewas anxious to have a fight with some one, and was not particular whoit was.
He was a large, raw-boned fellow, with great muscular development; hisface was large, with a bristling stubble of black beard upon the lowerportion; his eyes were dark and wild, his hair silvered with broadstreaks of white, and worn in a shaggy, unkempt mass.
His mouth was large, and his teeth projected beyond his lips, in ahorrible manner.
His attire, too, was ragged and greasy, with clumsy, stogy boots uponhis feet, and a dilapidated hat upon his head.
On entering the room, he paused and glared around him, as if in searchof some one on whom to vent his wrath.
"Well, Bully Jake, what'll ye have!" the tavern-keeper demanded, witha frown, for the ruffian was evidently an unwelcome intruder.
"Waal, I don't keer ef I do take a drap o' likker!" the man growled,glaring around.
"You to blazes! I mean, what d'ye want here?" Fat John grunted.
"A fureigner--a fureigner! Ye know I'm death on 'em, an' thar can'tnone o' 'em can stay around hyar, while I hev things _my_ way."
"What foreigner is there here, now?"
"A Dutch cuss, blarst his eyes! Thar he sets," and he indicated Fritzwho was tipped back in one corner. "Oh! but I'll go through him,though! I'll pulverize and sow him to the seven winds of the earth."
Then, with a tragic stride, he made for Fritz, pausing but a few pacesaway from him, and shaking his fist fairly in his face.
"You, look!" the ruffian cried. "D'ye know who I am?"
"Vel, I dinks I don'd vas haff made your acquaintance!" Fritz replied,retaining his seat, but on guard for an attack, if one was made.
"Ho! ho! I reckon not, an' ye'll wish ye never had, afore I gitthrough with yer!" Bully Jake declared. "Behold in me, my furinrooster, Jake Jogagog, commonly known as Bully Jake, the Terror o'ther Coast. I'm a cyclone, I am. Then, I'm prime minister ter hishonor, Granby Greyville, an' from him I hev orders to demolish everyfurin craft wot sots anchor in his domains. Therefore, ef ye wanterescape teetotal annihilation, I'd advise ye ter _git_! Ef ye ain'tseen goin' in less'n two seconds, I'll stamp ye out o' existence."
"Vel, when I gits ready to go, den I vil go, und not pefore!" Fritzretorted. "Uff you makes me any droubles, I plack your eye for you!"
"Oh! ye wull, hey? Oh! snortin' walrusses an' white-haired whales!"roared the bully, and sprung savagely upon the young detective, as ifbent on his certain destruction, Fritz clinched with him.
It was to be a struggle of brute strength now.
Fritz to the Front, or, the Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter Page 6