The Emerald Key

by Christopher Dinsdale

  The nearest boat was the pride and joy of the Prescott Shipping Company: the Carpathia II. Built and designed right here in Prescott, her sleek silhouette shimmered in the twilight sky. Freshly painted twin smokestacks rose up from behind its streamlined superstructure. Between the smokestacks, two imposing walking arms were poised and ready to pump power from brand new steam engines into the two massive paddlewheels that were mounted on either side of the ship. The pilothouse rose up like a proud forehead above its graceful wooden bow. Lines of portholes marked the comfortable berths that would soon carry passengers for the owner, the Western Star Shipping Line.

  Denny strolled up to the new ship and rubbed his hand along the side of her spotless white hull. Everything was quiet, as it always was at this time in the evening. He listened to a bass splash in the water beside the dock as it leapt high in the air for an evening snack. The hungry fish reminded him of the gooseberry pie. Turning, he strolled back toward the gatehouse. He could see Rodney, his partner, sipping on a freshly made cup of tea. A spot of tea and a slice of pie on a cool night like this will be the perfect start to the shift, Denny thought to himself as he reached for the door.

  Beyond the gatehouse, a wire-linked fence cut across the dock in order to keep trespassers at bay. Three young teenagers, a girl and two boys, were fishing off the dock on the other side of the fence. They’d been at it since he’d first arrived.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you youngsters head back home to your parents?” Denny called out. “It’s getting late.”

  “We’ll be going soon,” shouted the girl. “I first want to try out this new night jigger. My pa made it out of balsa wood last week!”

  “Good luck, then,” replied Denny, twisting the handle.

  Denny had heard about these new night jiggers. He made a mental note to give one a try next time he went out with his own rod and reel.

  “Hey Rodney, do you mind pouring me …”

  “Whoa! It’s huge! Oh my gosh, don’t let go of the rod! Help! We need help!”

  Denny stuck his head back outside the door. “Are you kids all right?”

  The girl and boy held the second boy by the waist. “He’s got a monster fish on the line! Maybe a muskie! He’s going to fall in!”

  Dennis hesitated. “A muskie? Are you sure?”

  Just the mention of a mighty muskellunge, the St. Lawrence’s number one prized fish, got his attention. He’d hate to see this kid lose a once-in-a-lifetime fish. Must have been the lure. He had to get a look at their magical night jigger while he had the chance.

  “Rodney,” he called into the shack. “I’ll be right back.”

  “All right, Denny,” the other man replied. “I’ll have the tea waiting.”

  Denny jogged to the fence while fumbling through his key chain. Quickly unlocking the gate, he ran over to the children. The boy’s rod was bent right over and he was fighting the fish like crazy. The other two had their feet dug in and were still hanging on to his waist.

  “I can’t hold on!” cried the boy. “Please, sir, help me land him!”

  “Sure, son, let me grab ahold of the rod. Good. All right, I got it!”

  Denny took the rod, expecting his arms to be pulled out of their sockets, but surprisingly, it didn’t happen. In fact, it just hung there like the hook was attached to a sunken log.

  “Hey, kid, I don’t think … whoa!”

  Distracted by the rod, Denny didn’t see the three kids quietly move in behind him and with a terrific push, they sent the night watchman flying off the dock. A second later, there was a tremendous splash in the river below.

  Rodney Leary had just finished making the second cup of tea when he heard the splash.

  “Help!” called a girl. “The guard has fallen into the river!”

  “What?” called Rodney, confused. He stepped out the door and saw the open gate.

  “Denny, where are —”

  Rodney’s world went black as something heavy was thrown over his head. Suddenly, dozens of hands were wrestling him to the ground while his wrists and ankles were bound with rope. The soggy night watchman was also rescued from the water, blindfolded, and tied up beside his partner in the gatehouse. Jamie Galway strode around the room and congratulated all the orphans.

  “Well done. And don’t worry, these men will be released by the workers when they arrive in the morning. We don’t have much time. Follow me.”

  As the collection of youngsters made their way out of the gatehouse, the oldest of the orphans, Daniel Kenny, leaned down to Beth.

  “I thought you said Jamie was a priest.”

  “He is.”

  “So far he’s sprung a dozen orphans out of an orphanage, abducted a pair of night watchmen, and now we’re going to steal a full-sized steamship?”

  She smiled and pointed up. “All for the Greater Good.”

  Daniel guffawed. “I don’t recall a story like this in the Bible.”

  “Look, Jamie explained this all to me. We didn’t hurt the watchmen, and we’re only borrowing the boat. This shipping company owes us one. He told me how many hundreds of Irish have died on their ships coming over from Ireland, including probably some of our parents. And we’re not stealing it. We’re going to give it back to them when we’re done.”

  “And what are we going to do with this steamship?”

  She shrugged. “He said something about killing two birds with one stone. He seems to like that expression. I assume one of the things has to do with finding his brother.”

  “I’ve never met a priest like this before.”

  She grinned. “Neither have I, but if you’d prefer to go back to Montreal, we’re not going to force you to get on the boat.”

  Daniel jumped onto the gangplank that led to the Carpathia II. “Go back to the orphanage so I can miss this adventure of a lifetime? Forget it! I’m in!”

  Jamie realized that if the heist of the Carpathia II was to work, they would have to be well away by first light and then manage to stay ahead of the authorities, who he was sure would be hot on their trail. He took the six oldest orphans down into the boiler room. The brand new twin engines gleamed in the light of the freshly lit oil lamps. The six young teenagers had spent the entire trip on Big John’s steamship below deck in the engine room, learning how a big steam engine operated — with the help of the Kentson crew. Now Jamie was banking everything on the hope that their brief education had taken hold.

  “But there’s two of them!” protested Daniel, the self-designated chief engineer, pointing to the two huge boilers.

  Jamie shrugged. “So you just double everything. Two boilers, two pistons, two walking arms, and two paddlewheels. Just do everything twice! Here, let me help you get things started.”

  Jamie divided them up into two groups of three. He then pointed out the boiler doors, the coal, the shovels, and the lighter fluid.

  “So, Daniel, you’re in charge of the boiler on the right and Laura, your group can take the boiler on the left. Talk to each other. Everyone will need to work together as a team to make this work. Now I need to head topside. Give it your best shot. We’re counting on you.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” replied Daniel, saluting. The other orphans burst into hysterical laughter. After months in a boring orphanage, it was like Jamie had just given them the best Christmas present imaginable. Jamie looked back from the stairs.

  “All right, start stoking those boilers and get them fired up as soon as possible. We need to get this bucket of bolts moving.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain!” they all shouted in unison, followed by a salute and another burst of laughter.

  Jamie shook his head, smiling, as he disappeared up the stairs. Beth was waiting for him at the top. Behind her were three girls, two boys, and Colin. “We’ve gone through the entire ship. They must have been just about ready to sail — the cupboards are stocked full of food. There’s no bedding yet in the staterooms so we’ll have to sleep on the bare wooden frames. Other than that, everyt
hing looks good.”

  “That’s great news,” said Jamie. “See if you can find anything soft to throw on those bed frames. We’ll need to get rest in shifts at some point. This is going to be a long trip. And remember, don’t carry candles or oil lamps on the open deck or anywhere near the windows. We need to run dark until we’re well away from Prescott. Someone might see our escape and alert the authorities.”

  The children hurried off toward the passenger berths.

  Daniel poked his head up the stairs from the engine room. “The boilers are lit and the steam pressure is starting to rise. I think we can get started in a minute and increase speed later on as the pressure continues to build.”

  Jamie could smell the thick smoke flowing out from the stacks above his head. “Brilliant work, Daniel. I think we better get going before someone smells that burning coal.”

  Jamie walked down the elegant, wood-panelled corridor towards the bow. He reached the first mooring rope and unlashed it from the cleat. With the bow free, he could feel the river’s current begin to push the front of the ship away from the dock. He quickly ran along the outer walkway to the stern and pulled in the stern line. Another run along the length of the ship and Jamie headed up top to the wheelhouse. Just as he had hoped, the current had moved the nose of the boat a good ten feet away from the dock while the stern stayed close. Getting around the moored ships should now be easy.

  Standing in front of the large polished oak wheel, Jamie pulled twice on the rope that hung next to the wheel, thereby ringing the bell in the engine room to get Daniel’s attention. He grabbed the brass handle on the round telegraph and pushed it forward until it read Ahead Slow. A different brass bell on the other side of the wheel rang twice in response, and a small brass arrow on the inside of the telegraph also moved to Ahead Slow, acknowledging the order from the bridge. The ship gave a shudder as the pair of huge walking beams began to tilt slowly back and forth like gigantic teeter-totters. The shafts at the end of each beam pumped the paddlewheels. The paddlewheels slowly slapped at the dark, moonlit water and the Carpathia II steamed away from the dock.

  Hawkeye Summers joined the captain in the wheelhouse as the first of the Thousand Islands began to glide past the old steamship. Hawkeye saw his captain absent-mindedly rubbing the worn wheel as he hummed a tune.

  “You’re going to miss her, aren’t you?”

  Big John looked around the rusty old wheelhouse and nodded. “A lot of memories in this old girl, but we’re going to give her one heck of a send-off.”

  Hawkeye’s eyes lit up. “You’re still planning on shooting her down the Lachine Rapids?”

  He smiled. “As soon as I drop off my cargo in Montreal, we’ll head out to the rapids. I can’t wait to race her through those rapids like a bolt of lightning. I’ve canoed and paddled those rapids for over a week, planning out the perfect route. We’re going to retire this girl in style.”

  “Every captain in the area will be out at the rapids watching. They’ve been talking about it in the pub for weeks, even putting wagers on whether she’ll make it down the rapids in one piece. No one has tried shooting those rapids in a ship this size.”

  “And what did you put your money on?” asked Big John.

  Hawkeye laughed. “On you making it, of course. Can I ask a favour of an old friend?”

  “Sure.”

  “Can I be up here in the wheelhouse with you when we shoot the rapids?”

  Big John slapped his friend on the back. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you down in the engine room anyway, just in case I do lose your bet.”

  Two loud dings from a nearby bell broke their conversation. Big John knew it had come from a nearby ship, but where was it? There wasn’t a ship in sight.

  “Do you see a ship?” he asked Hawkeye.

  Hawkeye ran to each window. “Wait, ah … there she is. Look behind us to port!”

  Glancing out his port side, Big John yelped in shock. Only thirty feet from his stern, another paddlewheeler was pulling up alongside his boat. It was a beauty of a ship with a double set of brand new paddlewheels. Big John had to work hard to control his temper. What idiot would sail a brand new ship so close to his and risk a collision?

  “Uh, Captain, you better leave the wheel and come over to see this.”

  “What’s that idiot of a captain doing now? Cleaning the dirt out from under his toenails?”

  “No. He’s waving to you.”

  “Great. A friendly idiot. Well, I’m not in the mood to wave back.”

  “You might want to. And he’s not the only one waving either.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll take the wheel, Captain. You have to come and see this for yourself.”

  Fuming, Big John handed the wheel to Hawkeye and tilted his head out the portside window. His jaw nearly hit the floor. Waving to him from the wheelhouse of the stunning new paddlewheeler was Jamie Galway. A half-dozen of the orphans whom he had dropped off in Prescott were laughing and dancing on the open bow as if they were at a party. He tried to make out the name of the ship on the bow. A new piece of wood had been placed on top of the original. In still-wet paint, which must have been written by the hand of a child, read the name the Flying Irishman. On the deck, the children recognized Big John and waved to him excitedly. He sheepishly waved back.

  “Hawkeye,” he said. “Keep the helm. I’m heading out on the yardarm.”

  “Yessir, Captain,” Hawkeye replied with a chuckle.

  Big John stepped outside the wheelhouse door and leaned out over the port yardarm railing. To his further shock, he saw Jamie Galway hand the wheel over to that young girl named Beth. Jamie walked over to his starboard yardarm railing and waved across the small expanse of water that separated the two ships.

  “How you doing, Captain?”

  Big John threw his arms in the air. “Jamie! What the heck are you doing on that ship?”

  “Taking the kids on a tour. Remember?”

  “That cannot be your boat! It looks brand new!”

  “Actually, we’re just borrowing it. The captain owed me and a lot of other Irish immigrants a big favour.”

  “And where are you planning to go on your tour?”

  “West,” Jamie replied cryptically. “Quite far west, actually.”

  “I don’t believe this,” muttered Big John.

  Jamie pointed ahead. “According to my map, I think we’re about to enter the Thousand Islands. I was hoping you could help lead me through the narrow channels. It looks a little tricky, especially with the currents and night coming soon. To tell you the truth, this is the first time I ever skippered anything bigger than a rowboat.”

  “The first time he’s ever skippered anything bigger than a rowboat,” muttered Big John to himself, shaking his head. “He’s got the newest ship in all of Canada under his command. and he’s asking me for help.”

  “So what do you say, Captain? Can you help me out?” called Jamie.

  Big John pointed one of his huge fingers at Jamie. “I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Got it?”

  Jamie scrunched up his brow. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

  “Very funny. And stay a good distance behind me. Your sleek ship has twice the speed of mine so the last thing we need is a collision at night. Once we get to Kingston, son, you keep going west and you’ve made it to the open waters of Lake Ontario. From there, you’re on your own. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir!” Jamie saluted. “And thank you, Captain.”

  Big John returned a weak salute and watched as Jamie gave the telegraph a signal to the engine room to slow her speed. The Flying Irishman started to slow down and then drifted in behind the Kentson. She took up her position at the rear of the procession, as ordered.

  “Is that entire ship being run by children?” asked Hawkeye incredulously.

  “We didn’t see anything,” corrected Big John, still shaking his head. “And go tell the rest of the crew they didn’t see anything either.”
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  Chapter 17

  A sombre Jonathon Wilkes waited in queue at the Western Star Shipping Line ticket booth. He had been so close to having the Book of Galway, his next fortune, in his possession, and now he had to return to England empty-handed. He wondered how he could have blundered so badly. The book, he was sure, was now lost in the massive fire that had consumed Canada’s House of Parliament. He felt no remorse about being responsible for the death of the two Irish children, but he found the burned-out shell of the parliament building strangely disturbing. In all of his travels, he had never experienced a local population torching their own legislature. This Province of Canada is going nowhere, he surmised. The crowds have no respect for authority, and the leaders can’t even protect their own government buildings from riots and arson!

  “May I help you, sir?” asked the ticket clerk.

  “Yes, I would like a first-class ticket on the next Western Star ship leaving for London, England, please.”

  As the clerk scanned the schedules, a door burst open at the back of the office. An irate fellow with a thick black beard stormed out of the office, and he was quickly followed by a tall man dressed in an immaculate business suit. Wilkes suddenly recognized the black-bearded fellow as Captain Chamberlain of the Carpathia.

  “Richard, you need to calm down!”

  “Calm down? You want me to calm down? How can I? You just told me my new ship has been stolen right off the dock of your Prescott shipyard!”

  “We will find the ship shortly, I assure you. Surely, a bunch of troublemaking children can’t get too far. They have no training in the operations of a steamship. They likely beached themselves in a nearby marsh.”

  “It was a bunch of Irish children, you say?”