CHAPTER XIV HARVEY MEETS WITH A LOSS
Jack Harvey and Tom Edwards had made good their escape--escape from theirown friends. Alas, they knew not how near they had been to the end of alltheir troubles. As it was, now that they were out of sight and sound ofthe farmhouse, the whole adventure seemed amusing. Harvey leaned againsta tree and roared with laughter.
"You're a sight!" he exclaimed to his companion. "I'd like to see youwalk into a store now and try to sell a man some goods. Oh, but I'mwinded. How we did scoot."
Tom Edwards was, indeed, nearly used up, from the dash across the fields.His shabby garments were covered with wisps of hay and straw; his veryhair was filled with it. His face was stained with the dust of thehay-mow and the exertion of running. Altogether, he looked not unlikesome huge fowl, half plucked, with short feathers sticking out here andthere. His shoes, much worn and breaking through, were miry with the soilof the corn field. He looked himself over, as Harvey spoke, and a grimsmile overspread his face.
"I nearly died under all that hay," he said. "And when that chap cameinto the mow and walked toward me, I had to hold in with might and mainto keep from letting out the biggest yell I ever gave in my life. Iexpected that pitchfork to go into my leg every minute. If it had,there'd have been one scared farmer in Maryland, I tell you."
Harvey roared again. Then his face grew serious.
"Poor old Tom!" he exclaimed. "You've had the hardest time of it rightalong. I thought, one time, you wouldn't stand the winter at the dredges.Well, we're through now, though. Lucky I saved that money. We'll get downto the shore, and find out about the boat. Then, hooray for Baltimore!"
"And after Haley!" added Tom Edwards, emphatically. "I'm going to put himwhere he belongs."
"And I'm going to put this where it belongs," remarked Harvey, drawingforth a biscuit, from his pocket. "I'm hungry enough to eat some of thathay, back in the barn. Here's a piece of corn bread, too. It's good, ifGeorge Haley did cook it. It wasn't meant for the crew, that's why."
Tom Edwards producing other of the food taken from the Brandt, they madea breakfast in the open, without stopping to build a fire; and theyquenched their thirst from the water of a little stream that trickleddown through the wood.
"This will do well enough for now," said Tom Edwards, as he bolted apiece of biscuit, hungrily; "but just you wait till we get intocivilization once more, Jack, old fellow. I'm going to take you to Bostonwith me, and we'll go to the best hotel there, and I'll order a bigsirloin steak as thick as your two hands, and we'll sit and eat till wechoke."
"Hooray!" mumbled Harvey, biting into a piece of corn bread; "isn't itgood to be free?"
When they had eaten, they started back into the country, on a long detourto avoid the farmhouse, to make their way to the shore in theneighbourhood of the steamboat landing. They walked across a somewhatuneven country, broken here and there by little streams that flowed downinto the creeks that cut into the shore line. Some of these were frozenso as to bear their weight; others had open water, so they were forced towalk some distance in order to find a crossing place. Once they ascendeda hill of perhaps a hundred feet, from which they could see thesurrounding country and the river, plainly.
There were several smaller hills lying to the eastward of this, betweenone of which a stream of some considerable size ran down into a largecreek above Millstone landing. They could see the farmhouse from thishill; and, with the coming in of the morning, they saw a sight thatthrilled them--that made them burn with exultation--the bug-eye Brandt,making sail and going across the harbour to Solomon's Island. Theywatched the craft with satisfaction for a long time. Then they slowlydescended the hill in the direction of the landing.
Crossing more uneven country, Harvey and Tom Edwards came finally into aroad that trended down toward the shore. They followed that for aboutthree quarters of a mile, till another road crossed it at right angles.At this point, they espied, coming down the road that intersected the onethey were on, a man, carrying a gunny sack over one shoulder. Theyhalted, and waited for him to come up.
The man was ill favoured, roughly dressed, stooping and almost stealthyin his gait, looking about him from side to side. As he approached, heeyed them slyly out of the corners of a pair of sharp, black eyes,turning his head and giving them no direct glance. He would have passedthem without speaking, but Tom Edwards hailed him.
"Can you tell us what time the boat will go up the river to-day, sir?" heasked.
The man stopped, lowered his sack to the ground, and stood, dartingglances at them, without replying for a moment. Then he answered, curtly,"'Twon't go up at all to-day."
Tom Edwards and Harvey looked at each other, with keenest disappointmenton their faces.
"When will it go up?" continued Tom Edwards.
"Day after to-morrow--it will, if the weather's right. If it isn't, itwon't. Where d'yer want to go?"
"We want to go to Baltimore," replied Tom Edwards; and added, by way ofexplanation, "we've come ashore from a vessel."
"Hmph!" ejaculated the stranger. "Reckon you'll stay right here to-day."He eyed them shrewdly for a moment, in silence. Then he said, "Off avessel, eh? You ain't flush with money, then. Couldn't pay for a night'slodging, I suppose."
"Yes, we can," answered Harvey, promptly. "We haven't got much money, butwe can pay for that, and for a dinner, too. Do you know where we can getit?"
The man's appearance bespoke poor hospitality that he might have tooffer; but they had met with ill success, in seeking shelter, andanything would be better than a night in the fields.
"Hm! What might you be willing to pay for keeping you over a night, withmeals?" inquired the man, casting doubtful glances at their shabby,mud-stained clothing.
Harvey looked at Tom Edwards. The latter made answer.
"We'll give you a dollar for dinner, supper, night's lodging and abreakfast to-morrow," he said. "Then we'll see about what we'll do."
The man's eyes twinkled shrewdly.
"Make it two, and it's a bargain," he said.
"All right," said Harvey.
"Well, I'm going down to the shore," said the man, "and I'll be back thisway. You can come along, or wait for me here. I won't be gone long."
"We'll wait for you," replied Tom Edwards.
The man shambled off down the road toward the landing.
"It doesn't look very inviting," said Tom Edwards, as their new-foundhost went on his way, "but we've got to take what we can get. We'll makeup for it when we get to Baltimore."
The man's promise to be back soon was not fulfilled, for it was more thanan hour before they saw him returning. He was burdened, however, with theweight of the sack, which he had evidently been to the warehouse to fill.He set it down as he came up to them, and Harvey offered to carry it away for him--an offer which was accepted promptly.
"I'm not so spry as I used to be," he remarked; "and you're young andrugged."
He started up along the road he had first come, and the two followed,Harvey carrying the sack, which proved to be filled with potatoes. Theyproceeded for about half a mile, when Harvey, wearied with his load,inquired how much farther they had to go.
"Oh, just a leetle piece," responded the man, cheerfully. He did notoffer to relieve Harvey of the sack, however. The "leetle piece" provedto be fully a half mile more, when the man turned from the road andfollowed a wheel track through the fields. They proceeded along that forabout a quarter of a mile.
"I guess I'll stop and rest for a minute," said Harvey presently. "Thissack is pretty heavy."
"Sho!" exclaimed the man. "You've been carrying it a long way, haven'tyou? I'll take it the rest of the way."
He gave a grin, as he spoke, the reason for which was soon apparent. Theyhad gone on for only a rod or two more when they espied, in a clump oftrees, a dingy, weather-beaten house. It was of one story in height,leaning over at an angle that threatened its complete collapse at nodistant day. The hearts of Tom Edwards a
nd Jack Harvey sank. It was not apleasant prospect for Christmas.
Throwing open the door, the man invited them to enter. They foundthemselves within a shabby room, bare of furnishing, save a wooden table,some chairs, strengthened with pieces of board, and a horse hair sofa inone corner, the springs of which had broken through and were touching thefloor.
"You're welcome, misters," said the man, "to such as it is. It ain'tnothing to boast of, but it's a sight better than some dredgers I'veseen. Had breakfast?"
Harvey nodded. The place left him little appetite.
It was some time before the man spoke again. He seemed to be consideringsomething. Then he said, somewhat hesitatingly, "Misters, I know as howyou are all right, by the looks of you--sailors, eh, but not such aswould take advantage of a poor man. But bein' as you are strangers, whyit will have to be pay in advance--and no offence intended. Besides, Idon't keep much on hand, as I live alone; and I'll have to go along upthe road a piece, and buy a bit of meat."
Harvey was prepared for it. In the absence of the man on his errand tothe warehouse, he had carefully withdrawn four one dollar bills from themoney pinned into his clothing, and now he had the two dollars ready. Hehanded them over.
The man snatched the money greedily, while his eyes twinkled. He tookdown his slouch hat from a peg, and prepared to be off again.
"Will you make yourselves at home, misters," he said, more deferentiallythan before. "I'll be after a bit of meat for dinner. The old house isn'tmuch to look at, but it don't leak rain, and it's warm. You keep the firegoing, and I'll promise you'll have a dinner that beats dredgin' grub bya long sight."
He went out and left them alone. They sat for a moment in silence. ThenHarvey laughed, as he surveyed the dingy room.
"Merry Christmas! Tom," he said.
It was Tom Edwards's turn to smile now.
"The same to you, Jack, old boy," he exclaimed, heartily. "I guess theold cove is right, after all. It does beat Haley's dredger--but not bysuch a big margin."
They explored the ramshackle house, together. There was a room openingoff the one they were in, a sleeping room, with a rough cot in it thatmight accommodate two, on a pinch. A wood-shed led off from the firstroom, also. That was the extent of the cabin. They returned to the livingroom, which, with a small cook-stove set up in it, answered fordining-room, parlour, and kitchen in one. They replenished the fire-potwith wood, from a box, and stretched themselves out at length on thefloor beside the fire. The room was at least warm, and they were stillweary from lack of sleep.
The hours passed, and it was near noon when they heard the returningfootsteps of their host. He came in and busied himself with preparationsfor dinner, setting out a coffee pot on top of the stove and cutting somestrips of bacon to fry in a pan. He took from a closet a few cold boiledpotatoes, and sliced these into the pan, with the bacon.
That was their Christmas dinner; but they were hungry, and ate heartily.Toward the end of the meal, their host eyed them slyly, but critically.He noted their clothing, their shoes, even the wisps of hay stillclinging to their hair. He arose and pretended to be busy about the fire,but cast sidelong glances at them.
"I heard that there were tramps got into Warren's barn, over yonder, lastnight," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "We don't have much of thataround here. Neighbour Darrell says Warren would give a dollar, andperhaps more, to catch them. But I says, 'Probably the poor fellowsdidn't have nowheres else to go, and I wouldn't tell on 'em, if I knewwhere they were.'"
Again the man stole a stealthy glance at his guests.
"I wouldn't take money for that," he added, "though I reckon it would beworth a dollar to the chaps, themselves, to keep out of the lock-up."
Harvey, and Tom Edwards exchanged significant glances. It was only tooclear what their host was driving at. But Harvey waited for some timebefore he yielded. It was half an hour later, when they had finisheddinner and were sitting by the fire, that he met the sly demand.
"Look here," he said, suddenly, as though the thought had just struckhim, "you're giving us the best you can, and we haven't paid you enough.Here's another dollar. I'd give more than that, if we could afford it."
He held out the dollar. The man took it, eyed it avariciously and stuffedit into a pocket.
"I wouldn't take it if I wasn't as poor as poverty," he said.
Late that afternoon, he took down his hat and said he would go "up theroad" again, and be back shortly. They watched him till he was out ofsight. Then Tom Edwards turned to Harvey, his face clouded with anger.
"Jack," he said, "we've got to get out of here, and now's our chance. Iwouldn't trust that old rascal another minute. He may be lying about thelock-up he spoke of--I don't believe there's one for miles around. Buthe'd sell us to the first captain that came along. What do you think?"
Jack Harvey nodded, wearily.
"You're right," he said. "It's a beastly shame, though. I want a night'ssleep. But we can't get away from here any too soon, I'm thinking. Comeon. Let's bolt."
They started off, running along the wheel track, and thence down the roadthey had come before. It was already growing dark, and their hearts sank,as they hurried on, wondering anxiously where they should spend thenight.
They followed the road down to the landing, because they knew not whereelse to go. They came finally to the wharf, with its warehouse at thefarther end. This was shut fast, and no sign of life about it. They satdown for a moment, to rest.
"Well?" queried Harvey, "what do you think?"
"Try another farmhouse?" suggested Tom Edwards.
"I'm scared to do it," replied Harvey. "There's an old barn, or factoryof some sort over yonder, however, that looks deserted. Anything will dofor a night. Let's go and see."
They made their way over to the eastward of the wharf, for a distance ofseveral rods, and came up to an old canning factory, which had been sometime out of use and was closed. They forced the shutter of a window andentered, finding themselves almost in darkness.
What sort of a place they were in, what it consisted of, and whateveraccommodations it might afford them for a night's lodging, they had nomeans of finding out. They had only a few matches, and these would servethem but little. They feared to wander about, lest some rotten timbersshould let them through to the cellar, or whatever might be beneath. Thesingle match they lighted sufficed to show them all they needed.
The little patch of light fell upon a litter of old straw, as though frompacking boxes of some sort. Tired and sleepy, they crept into this,devoured the remaining biscuits they had in their pockets from theBrandt's cabin, and fell sound asleep.
Both awoke shivering, the following morning, for there had been scantcovering to their bed, and the building was cold. They hastened out intothe sunshine, going around to the southern exposure of the cannery, wherethe warmth was greatest. Again, Harvey took the precaution of dividingthe money in his small and very private bank, drawing on the accountpinned to his undershirt, for three dollars, leaving fourteen thussecured.
He had hardly accomplished this transfer when they heard voices, andthree men came past the corner of the old cannery, going off to the rightin the direction of a great creek. Harvey halted them, with a call, andthey turned in surprise. They were negroes, and evidently oystermen ofsome sort.
"Hello, what be you two doing here?" inquired one of them, who seemed byhis manner to be the leader of the three.
"We want to get to Baltimore," replied Harvey.
The man shook his head.
"Boat don't go to-day," he said.
"We want something to eat," said Tom Edwards. "You fellows got anythingto sell?"
"Mebbe a little bread, and sure enough some oysters," answered the man."They's down 'board the boat, though. You'll have to come and get 'em."
The three negroes started on again, Tom Edwards and Harvey following. Thethree apparently paid no more attention to Harvey and his companion--atleast, they did not arouse the suspicion of the two. Nevertheless, one byon
e, as they walked along, the three turned and looked the strangersover. Then they conversed together, softly, but with more than ordinaryinterest.
Arrived at the creek, there appeared a great canoe drawn up to shore,with perhaps a bushel of oysters lying in a heap in the bottom. It was acanoe of unusual size, at least twenty-four feet long, and broad of beam.The man who had spoken handed over to Tom Edwards half a loaf of bread,while another of the men began shucking some of the oysters. He passedthese to them, and they devoured them hungrily.
"You want to go to Baltimore right away?" asked the negro, suddenly,turning to Tom Edwards.
"Quick as we can get there."
"Jim," said the man, addressing one of his companions, "what time thisafternoon does that Potomac river steamer get 'round to Otter Point?"
"About five o'clock," answered the man promptly.
"You know Otter Point?" asked the first man, of Tom Edwards.
The latter shook his head.
"I know," said Harvey. "It's a long way down."
"'Bout eighteen miles," said the negro. "Good offshore wind this fo'noon;take you down in 'bout three hours, you catch the afternoon steamer, getyou into Baltimore to-morrow mo'ning."
"How much will you charge?"
"Guess it's worth 'bout a dollar."
"What do you say, Tom?" asked Harvey.
"I say, let's go," answered Tom Edwards.
"All right," said Harvey. "When will you start?"
"Jes' as soon as you get aboard," replied the negro.
Harvey handed a dollar to the man, and they stepped into the canoe. Themen shoved off, the sails were set and the canoe glided out of the creek,through a narrow opening, into the bay. There was a smart breeze comingup, off the land; and the canoe, with the wind about abeam, headed downalong shore. It was fast, and they made good time. Some three hourslater, at about eleven o'clock in the forenoon, they ran between twopoints of land, into a creek that spread out broadly for over a mile inwidth, and extended northward for some three miles.
They ran for something like a mile northwesterly, and turned into one ofthe numberless coves, to where a small cabin stood, a little way backfrom shore. The country round about was desolate. There was not anothersign of habitation in sight.
They went up to the cabin, with the three negroes, and entered. It was amere fisherman's shack, with some bunks on two sides, filled with hay forbedding. A cook stove warmed it. There was a table in the middle of thefloor, with some empty boxes to serve as seats.
Despite the barrenness of it, however, Harvey and Tom Edwards made a gooddinner, about two hours later, of fried fish and bread and hot coffee.
They were in good spirits, when they stood, at a quarter to five thatafternoon, at Otter Point, awaiting the steamer.
But there was no wharf there--nothing but a rude framework of poles, atwhich a small boat might moor.
Harvey turned to their one companion, in surprise.
"A steamer can't land here," he exclaimed.
The leader of the three negroes, who had accompanied them from the cabin,answered, with assurance.
"The landing was over yonder," he said. "It was carried away, and theyjust puts folks ashore and takes them on here. We has to send a boatoff." He took out a pipe and began smoking stolidly.
Five o'clock came--and six--and there was no steamer. Night had settleddown. The negro answered their questions by asserting that "somethingmus' have hap'nd; that boat was always on time befo'."
They waited a little while longer, with fast dying hopes. It was allguesswork to them. They could not know that, at six o'clock in theevening, by its schedule, the Potomac river steamer bound for Baltimorewas twenty miles back on its course, coming out of St. Mary River, intothe Potomac; that it never did stop at the creek where they wereanxiously waiting, and that it would go by sometime in the night. Athalf-past six o'clock they gave it up and rowed back with the negro, in askiff, to the cabin.
"Jack," said Tom Edwards, as they turned in for the night, in bunks, oneabove the other, "I'm afraid they've played a trick on us, though I don'tknow what for. I don't like the looks of this place."
"Nor I," said Harvey. "I'm going to keep awake for an hour or two, andwatch. I've got Haley's revolver." He took it from his pocket and hid itin the straw under his head. "We'll be ready for them, anyway," hemuttered.
But they had reckoned without their weariness. In less than an hour, theywere both fast asleep.
Nothing evil befell throughout the night, however. The morning found themundisturbed. The negroes were stirring, and the odour of cooking broughtthem to their feet, hungry and refreshed.
That day seemed endless. There would be no boat up river untilto-morrow, they were now assured. They could only wait. They weresuspicious--alarmed. The place was so out of the way, and so dreary. Butthey decided to wait the one more day, and then, if no boat came, tostrike off across country for themselves.
Harvey slept soundly that next night, for several hours. Thensomething--he knew not what--roused him. He stirred sleepily, half awokeand turned in his bunk. A figure stole away from him, in the darkness,toward the door. It is probable that Harvey would have relapsed intosound slumber once more had he not felt cold. He awoke, shivering, andfelt a draft of cold night air blowing in on him. Then he saw a patch ofmoonlight streaming in through the half-opened door.
Harvey, fully dressed, as he had turned in, rolled out of the bunk andstepped to the door. Some distance away, two men were going down to theshore. The next thing he saw sent the blood leaping through his veins.Out in the creek, the moonlight was reflected on the sail of a bug-eye.It was rounding to, coming up into the wind. Harvey darted back into thecabin and awoke Tom Edwards, shaking him vigorously.
"Tom, get up, quick!" he said; and dragged him from where he lay.
"There's a vessel coming in, Tom," he cried, "and the men from here aregoing down to meet it. They're after us--that's what. Tom, we'll be soldagain to a dredger if we don't get out of here. That's what they got usdown for."
They had, fortunately, no clothing to put on, for they had turned indressed, even to their shoes. They waited only for a moment, snatching upsome pieces of dry bread that remained on the table from the supper. Thenthey hurried out of the door.
They were not a moment too soon. Perhaps the third man had been about thecabin somewhere and had given the alarm. As they stepped outside, thethree negroes came plainly into sight, in the moonlight, armed with shortpoles which they brandished as clubs, running back toward them and cryingout for them to halt.
There was a sharp surprise for the three, however. Tom Edwards, madedesperate by the crisis, had drawn a fish knife that he had taken fromthe cabin of the Brandt; Jack Harvey stood coolly in his tracks, holdingHaley's revolver.
"Stand back there, or I'll shoot," he cried.
The negroes stopped short and stood, holding their clubs in hand. Theywere clearly taken all by surprise. The leader, balked of his prize moneyfor two able-bodied men for the dredger, was not to be beaten, off-hand,however. His eyes flashed with anger, as he advanced a step.
"That thing isn't loaded," he asserted. "You can't fool us. It won'tshoot."
"Won't it?" said Harvey. "Let's see." He raised the weapon, aiming itover the man's head, and pulled the trigger. The report of the weaponsounded afar in the still night air, ringing out across the water. Theman sprang back, in terror, and, the next moment, the three startedrunning for the shore toward the vessel.
"Tom," cried Jack Harvey, "get your wind for a run now. We've got to getout of here before they bring the captain and mate and his men after us.We'll have to run and trust to luck."
They started off across country, away from the shore, as hard as theycould run. The moonlight, fortunately, showed them the ground over whichthey ran--though they knew not whither they were travelling.
All that night they proceeded, coming to a road, after a time, that wentnorthward. They followed along that. Not until daybreak did they pause torest.
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br /> Poor Tom Edwards was groaning, and gasping like a fish out of water.
"The luck's against us, Jack, old boy," he murmured. "Here we are, twentymiles worse off than we were before--and, only to think, that other boatgoes up to-morrow from Millstone, and we won't be there in time."
"Never mind," said Jack Harvey, stout-heartedly, "we'll get out of itsome way. We'll follow the road, and we won't starve. I've got the moneyto pay for food along the way."
He thrust his hand under his waistcoat, as he spoke--and uttered a cry ashe did so.
"Tom," he shouted, "I haven't got the money. I've been robbed! It'sgone!"
He felt through his clothing, feverishly. He drew forth from one pocket asingle dollar bill and a small amount of change. It was all he had left.The money that had been pinned to his clothing had been taken, pin andall, while he slept. The dollar left to him had been in the trouserspocket, protected by his body.
They were too poor now to pay their fare up the river. They were worseoff than before against the cold or any storm that might arise; for theyhad left their oil-skins back in the cabin, in their flight.
Jack Harvey's Adventures; or, The Rival Campers Among the Oyster Pirates Page 15