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

by Gabrielle E. Jackson

  CHAPTER XIX SURPRISES FOR JACK HARVEY

  Jack Harvey and Tom Edwards, standing in the middle of the road thatextended drearily northward before them through St. Mary county, on thecold winter morning of December 28, gazed at each other ruefully. Theywere aching from the exertions of their escape and of the night spentwithout sleep, wandering across country. They were lame, foot-sore, andhungry, and the cold now began to penetrate their garments, unprotected,as they were, for lack of oil-skins or heavy coats. The discovery thatthey were also now almost penniless, and in an out-of-the-way andsparsely settled section of Maryland, was well-nigh appalling. They castanxious glances over the fields and low rolling hills, to see if theycould discover shelter.

  Off to the left of the highway, there wound a thin ribbon of frozenstream, going down to the southwest, through some irregular ridges;twenty rods away, on the southern bank of this stream, the roof of asmall house showed, with a chimney sending up a light coil of smoke.Harvey and his companion left the road and made their way toward thehouse.

  The occupant of this dwelling, whoever he might be, would not be takenunawares by their coming, surely, for there bounded out toward them threedogs, barking. Harvey and Tom Edwards halted, then proceeded slowly. Thedogs did not offer to molest them, but ran close by their side, as a sortof escort.

  A man appeared in the doorway, warned by the dogs, and called to thethree to come away. Then he gave a greeting to the two travellers.

  "Don't mind the dogs," he called; "they're not savage. We're notaccustomed to seeing travelers often, though, and it makes them excited."

  The speaker was a middle-aged, well-built man, of medium height, bronzedby sun and wind, with an expression and bearing that told of a conditionin life above that of the poor settler. He spoke, too, in accentsdifferent from what they had been accustomed of late to hear. He eyedthem shrewdly, as they came to the door.

  "Come inside," he said, holding the door ajar for them. "You're fishermenby your dress--and you're not. Am I right? If I were to guess, I'd takeyou to be northerners, though what you're doing away down in thislonesome place is what puzzles me. You've been on the bay, perhaps, butyou don't look like bay men."

  All the while he spoke, his keen, brown eyes were bent critically uponthem, as if the two afforded him an interesting study.

  "You're right, sir," answered Tom Edwards, "we have been fishermen, butwe're not now; and what's more, I hope we never shall be again. We'veescaped from a dredger. And, sir, if you will allow me, you don't looklike a man that toils hard for a living. You've got a business hand."

  The man smiled and nodded. "You and I are regular Sherlock Holmeses," hesaid. "Sit down by the fire. No, I'm not a resident here. I'm an invalid.Do I look it?"

  He threw out his chest and laughed heartily.

  "You certainly do not," answered Tom Edwards.

  "Well, I was," continued the stranger. "My name is Phillips, and I livein New York. I'm a lawyer, and I'm taking a year off for my health. I hadspent many vacations, shooting and fishing about the Chesapeake, and whenI had to give up work for a year, I came down here with my dogs and gunand rod. I hired this old house and set up as monarch of all Isurvey--including an old darkey servant who does my work and cooking. I'ma pretty lusty invalid, I can tell you. Now where did you come from?"

  "It's a long story," said Tom Edwards, stretching out comfortably in hisarmchair before the hearth fire, "but I'll make it brief." And hesketched rapidly the adventures that had befallen himself and Harveysince their captivity aboard the dredger. Their host listened intently.

  "That's a strange story, sure enough," he said, when Tom Edwards hadfinished; "but I've heard of cases like it before. It's a bad state ofaffairs. I'd like to help prosecute that man, Haley. What a rascal hemust be!"

  Mr. Phillips arose, stepped to a closet and produced from a shelf abottle and a glass.

  "Mr. Edwards," he said, "I won't offer this to your young companion, butyou look played out. I keep it on hand, for cases just like this."

  So saying, he poured the glass partly full and handed it to Tom Edwards.The latter took it, arising from his chair as he did so, and started toraise it to his lips. To his utter astonishment, and that of the host,Jack Harvey stepped to the side of his elder companion, drew back hisright arm and planted a blow on Tom Edwards's shoulder that nearly senthim off his feet, knocked the glass from his hand and sent it crashing tothe floor.

  Tom Edwards recovered his balance, flushed angrily and turned on Harvey,who stood, chuckling at the effect of his unexpected blow.

  "Look here," cried Tom Edwards, confronting his friend, threateningly,"what kind of tom-foolery do you call that? What's the matter with you?Have you gone crazy?"

  Mr. Phillips, seeing the fate of his liquor and his glass, had alsoflushed with resentment and stood glaring at Harvey. Harvey laughed.

  "You asked me to do it, Tom," he said.

  "What's that!"

  "I did it just to oblige you," insisted Harvey. "Don't you remember thefirst night we met in that beastly old forecastle of the Brandt? You saidif I ever saw you try to take a drink again to punch you good and hard.Well, I did the best I know how. Truly, though, Tom, I'm sorry if you'reangry. I just happened to remember it, and I did it for fun, right offquick. Say you're not mad, will you?"

  Tom Edwards, thus confronted with his own words, stood, open-mouthed withsurprise. Then a smile overspread his face. He turned to his host,somewhat embarrassed; the expression on his face became serious.

  "Mr. Phillips," he said, "the boy is right. I asked him to do it. Andwhat's more--though I owe you an apology, sir--I'm glad he did it."

  He turned to Harvey and extended his hand.

  "Jack, old chap," he said, "you did just right. Upon my word, I forgot. Imeant that, when I said it aboard the Brandt, and I did intend to stickto it, upon my word. The fact is, Mr. Phillips, if it hadn't been forthat stuff, I never should have been caught in this plight. I swore I'dnever touch another drop; and if you'll excuse me, sir, I'll start allover again. Jack, here's my hand on it. I'll stick to it this time, aslong as I live."

  Mr. Phillips, seating himself in his chair, doubled up with laughter.

  "Excuse you, why, of course," he roared. "Bless me, if that wasn't themost effective temperance lesson I ever saw in my life. Young fellow, ifyou can convert 'em as quick as that, you ought to go into the business."

  "I was only in fun," said Harvey, apologetically. "I thought it wouldsurprise Tom, to give it to him, just as he said."

  "Surprise!" roared Mr. Phillips, "I never saw such a surprised man in allmy life." And the lawyer leaned back in his chair and roared again.

  "Well," he said, finally. "I'll try you on the food question. You're bothhungry enough, I dare say. Just make yourself comfortable and I'll havemy man start breakfast."

  Harvey and Tom Edwards settled back in their chairs, warm and grateful.It seemed too good to be true, to be comfortably housed and with theprospect of a good breakfast, after the hardships they had gone through.And when they sat down to the table some time later, with coffee and eggsand bacon and hot rolls and crisp fried potatoes arrayed appetizinglybefore them, they could hardly believe they were not dreaming. Hope andcourage grew anew within them, and already their troubles seemed at anend.

  They were glad enough, when they had finished, to accept the profferedhospitality of a bed; and they went off to sleep, wearied and worn butvastly content in the consciousness that they were safe, and might restunmolested. They slept the most of that day, and roused up at eveningonly, to partake of a bit of supper and then turn in again, for a longnight of sleep and rest.

  The next day, the easterly storm blew up that had made life miserableaboard the dredger, Brandt, away across the bay on the eastern shore. Howfar from their minds was the thought that, while they sat, comfortablysheltered against the snow and sleet, the youth, Artie Jenkins, who hadbrought all their troubles upon them, was, himself, toil
ing miserably andwretched, at the winch aboard the Brandt. By no stretch of theimagination could Harvey have pictured his friend, Henry Burns, underbondage to Haley, as he himself had been.

  Harvey and Tom Edwards, urged to remain until they were fully refreshed,and until the weather softened to admit of their travelling withoutdanger or great hardship, gladly accepted. They remained that day and thenext under the roof of their good host. He, on his part, was glad oftheir company, and would have had them remain even longer.

  On the fourth day, however, the weather moderating and not enough snowhaving fallen to make the road impassable, Harvey and his companiondetermined to set out. They were in high spirits, for their generous hosthad lent them money for their passage to Baltimore and to purchase whatthey might need on the way. Moreover, he had given them the name of a manat a small settlement called Trap, a mile or two up the road, who owned ahorse, and who, he thought, would drive them northward. In the forenoon,then, they started, with a cordial farewell and wishes for good luck.

  Lawyer Phillips had been a generous and thoughtful friend. The shabby,sea-worn clothing that the two had worn on their arrival at his home hadbeen replaced by garments from his own wardrobe--second-hand, to be sure,but far better and warmer than what they had. Over his shoulder Harveycarried a small sack which contained half a boiled ham, two loaves ofbread, some corn biscuit and a big bottle of coffee. They were rested andhad been well fed; and they went along the icy road in high spirits.

  In a little more than an hour they had reached the settlement to whichthey had been directed, consisting of some three or four houses. Theywent in to the door of one of these, and knocked. A man opened the door.

  "We are looking for Mr. Stanton," said Tom Edwards.

  "That's my name," responded the man; "what's wanted?"

  They told him Mr. Phillips had sent them, and informed him of theirerrand. The man shook his head.

  "I'd do anything for Mr. Phillips," he said, "but my horse can't travelclear to Millstone and back over this road, this time of year. But I tellyou what I will do; I'll take you by water. My canoe is down at the creekyonder. We can run up in four hours, I guess; and I'll put you up withfriends of mine when we get there, and you can stay till the boat comes.How will that suit you?"

  "Suit us!" exclaimed Tom Edwards, "nothing ever suited us half so well inthis world. When can you start?"

  "Right away, as soon as I throw a few things into a bag."

  Five minutes later, the three were going along a road that led off fromthe highway to the right, diagonally toward the shore. Their guide andnew acquaintance, a small, undersized man, led the way at a brisk pace.The entrance to the creek, a quite extensive sheet of water, bordered bysalt marshes, was about two miles distant. When they had come to within aquarter of a mile of this, a small cabin could be seen, squatted downamong the reeds by the shore.

  Suddenly their guide stopped short, gazed off to the side of the road,and uttered an exclamation of surprise. Then he pointed to an object ashort distance away, and ran toward it. Harvey and Tom Edwards followed.What they saw was the figure of a man, or youth, lying on a little patchof underbrush, where he had evidently fallen.

  The heavy breathing of the person told the three, as they bent over him,that he still lived; but he seemed to be in a sort of stupor. Mr. Stantonturned him over and looked at his face.

  "I knew it," he said. "He's a stranger; some poor chap from a dredger,sure as you live. He's not the first one that's been put ashore downhere. We've got to get him into the cabin and give him something hotpretty quick, or we won't save him."

  "Lift him up on my shoulders, and I'll carry him," said Harvey. "It isn'tfar, and he doesn't weigh much."

  They lifted the youth up and Harvey started toward the cabin, carryinghim over his shoulder, while the others steadied the swaying figure. Hewas, as Harvey had said, not heavy--a youth of about twenty, perhaps,slender and sickly looking. His face seemed swollen, as though from blowsor from being frost-bitten. As Harvey, strong and athletic, carried himover the uneven ground, he groaned and muttered something unintelligible.The jolting had roused him partly from his stupor.

  The cabin proved to be a rough affair of boards--with wooden bunks oneither side, and a sheet-iron stove in one corner--used merely as anoccasional shelter by tong-men. Harvey laid his burden down and madehaste to start a fire. Tom Edwards produced the coffee from the bag, andpoured some into a tin can that he found in one corner of the cabin, inorder to heat it on the stove. The man, Stanton, began untying the shoesand loosening the clothing of the unknown youth, who now stirred slightlyand half opened his eyes. There were two tattered blankets by thedoorway, and Mr. Stanton spread these by the stove, where Harvey soon hada fire roaring, and they laid the youth down on them.

  "It's just as I thought," exclaimed Stanton, indignantly, turning downthe youth's coat and shirt, so that a part of his bare shoulder wasexposed; "he's been beaten with a rope's end. It's a disgrace, the waythey treat men."

  Harvey's face flushed, as he looked.

  "We know how to sympathize with the poor fellow," he said. "We know whatdredging is like, eh, Tom?"

  "Well, I rather think we do," responded Tom Edwards. "We've got somescores of our own to settle with a few men, when we get back toBaltimore."

  Tom Edwards advanced now with the coffee.

  "Hold him up, Jack," he said. "This will warm him."

  Harvey put his hand under the youth's head, raised him to a sittingposition, and Tom Edwards held the tin to his lips. The youth opened hiseyes and looked them in the face. As he did so, Harvey fairly gasped andnearly let him fall back.

  "Tom," he exclaimed, "look! See who it is!"

  Tom Edwards set the tin down on the floor.

  "Why, I've seen him before," he cried. "He's the chap I met in Baltimore,or his twin brother. How can that be, though? Jack, what do you say? Whois he?"

  "Artie Jenkins!" exclaimed Harvey. "I'd know him, no matter where he was.He's the chap that trapped me--and of all places to find him! Say, you'reArtie Jenkins, aren't you?"

  He looked the youth in the eyes and shook him. The youth nodded, feebly.

  "Yes," he whispered.

  "Well," said Tom Edwards, lifting the tin again, "you get the coffee,just the same--but hang me if I ever thought I'd do that much for you.Hold him up, Jack. Here, drink this."

  Artie Jenkins, choking and breathing hard between his efforts, drank thetin-full of hot coffee, and they laid him down again. They rubbed hislegs and arms till they were warmed with renewed vitality. Then theyrolled him in the blankets and let him lie by the fire.

  "He's all right, I guess," said Stanton, "but he had a close call.Another hour out there in the cold and he never would have waked up. It'sfunny, though, that you know him; how did it happen?"

  "Yes, he's an old friend of ours," said Tom Edwards, smiling; "we're sortof old Johns Hopkins chums, he and Harvey and I. We went to school withhim--on the Baltimore water front." And he narrated the story of theiracquaintance with Artie Jenkins. "Jack and I had a score to settle withhim," he said in conclusion; "but it looks to me as though someone hadsettled it for us. Judging by the looks of our friend, I guess he's hadenough, eh, Jack?"

  Harvey nodded.

  "I guess we'll call it even," he replied. "But what puzzles me is, whatare we going to do with him?" Harvey looked at Mr. Stanton, inquiringly.The latter did not answer, but started suddenly toward the door.

  "There's a sloop coming to anchor just outside," he said. "Perhaps theyknow something about him. Just keep close, now. There's a skiff comingin, with two in it. I'm a justice of the peace. I reckon this revolverwill be a good argument for them to stop. I'll hold them until that chap,Jenkins, is able to sit up again. If he identifies them as the ones thatbrought him in here, I'll put them under arrest. Have you got a weapon?"

  Harvey produced Haley's revolver.

  "Good!" exclaimed Mr. Stanton, "keep it handy and stand by. When I stepout, you follow."

 
Peering through the doorway, they saw the skiff come in to shore and twopersons step out--one a large, powerfully built man, the other a youth ofabout Harvey's age. The two came up a path leading from the shore, towardthe cabin. Their boots crunched the ice just outside the door when Mr.Stanton, motioning to Harvey, stepped quickly outside. Harvey followed.

  "Hold up there," cried Mr. Stanton, "I put you two under arrest till Ifind out--"

  He stopped abruptly and jumped with surprise when Jack Harvey, uttering awhoop and a yell, darted past him.

  "George Warren!" bawled Harvey, rushing up to the astounded youth; "wheredid you come from? How in the world did you ever get here? Any more ofthe fellows with you? Is Henry Burns out aboard? I was right. I saw youweeks ago through Haley's telescope. Tom, come on out. They've come forus. Hooray!"

  Mr. Stanton, wide-eyed with wonder, lowered his weapon and bowed to theman with George Warren.

  "The arrest is off," he said. "I apologize, sir. Come inside and I'llexplain."

  George Warren, embracing his friend Harvey, was almost too dumfounded tospeak. But Harvey continued to ply him with questions.

  "How did you happen to come to look for me?" he asked.

  "We didn't," replied George Warren, while an expression of anxietyoverspread his face; "we are looking for Henry Burns."

  "For Henry Burns!" repeated Harvey. "Why, what's become of him--you don'tmean he's been carried off, too? Say, it's making my head swim. Come inand explain."

  The four entered the cabin where Artie Jenkins lay sleeping by the fire.George Warren introduced his companion as Will Adams. Then he turned toHarvey.

  "Who'll explain first, you or I?" he asked.

  "Why," replied Harvey, "you know about us, or you wouldn't be here--yougot the note I sent ashore, I suppose. It's a long story, all that'shappened. I want to know about Henry Burns. Is he lost?"

  George Warren recounted the events leading up to the disappearance oftheir friend; and then, how they had discovered, on the morning of the27th of December, that Henry Burns was missing; how they had found theskiff adrift in the Patuxent; how they had learned, by questioning theriver men, that Haley's bug-eye had been seen that night in the Patuxent;and how they had set out in the sloop, Mollie, to hunt for him, afternotifying the authorities. There were, out aboard the sloop, the othertwo Warren boys and Edward Warren, their cousin.

  "And you'll have to make room for two more," cried Jack Harvey. "TomEdwards and I can tell Haley's old bug-eye a mile away. You won't findhim on this shore, though. He's on the Eastern shore, among the islands."

  "That's what we thought most likely," said Will Adams, "but we thoughtwe'd clean up this side first, to make sure. We saw your smoke and ran into inquire--"

  He stopped abruptly and turned to Tom Edwards.

  "Say, was it you two that slept in Warren's barn?" he asked.

  "I guess it was his barn, sure enough," replied Tom Edwards; "and wasn'tit a piece of hard luck that he didn't catch us? We'd all be home by thistime,--and they wouldn't have lost the other boy. What a shame!"

  "Things do happen queerly, sure enough," said Will Adams. "But who's thisman asleep here?"

  Tom Edwards turned and pointed to Artie Jenkins, shaking his finger atthe sleeping figure.

  "That chap," he said, "is the cause of it all. Isn't it a queersituation, that he should be here too?"

  He told the story of their experience with Artie Jenkins.

  "And what are you going to do with him?" asked Will Adams.

  Tom Edwards knelt by the sleeper and turned down his shirt collar.

  "Take a look here," he said, pointing to the red marks upon the youth'sshoulder. "When I was out aboard Haley's bug-eye," he continued, "I usedto spend hours thinking what I'd like to do to this fellow, if I everfound him. I had nine hundred and ninety-nine different ways all thoughtout of making him pay for my troubles. But"--Tom Edwards arose and foldedhis arms--"I think he's had his punishment. Somebody put him just wherehe put us--aboard a dredger; and he must have struck a Tartar as bad asHaley. I think we'll let him go. That is, if we can. Mr. Stanton, what doyou say? We shall not need your help now, to get to Millstone. We'regoing with this sloop to the Eastern shore; but we can't leave thisfellow, Jenkins, here, deserted."

  "Leave him to me," replied Mr. Stanton. "He won't be the first one we'vehad on our hands. I'll go back and hitch up the horse and take him to thesettlement, and we'll ship him up the bay the first chance we get. Butyou ought to prosecute him. Ten to one, if he ever gets his health again,he'll go back to the business."

  Tom Edwards shook his head vigorously.

  "No, he won't," he said; "I'd stake my last dollar that he's had enoughof it. He's been beaten, and he's had the heart all taken out of him. Hehasn't got the nerve left to try it again."

  And Tom Edwards was right.

  They shook hands with Mr. Stanton, took a last look at the unhappy objectby the fire, and went down the path to the landing. Soon the sloopMollie, with her new recruits aboard, was standing away from the creek,tossing the spray as the search for Haley's bug-eye and for Henry Burnswas resumed.