The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

Why it was they were more than usually careful it was hard to understand; but that such was the fact could not be overlooked.

  It might be they were watching for the arrival of some one else, or, knowing that something important was on hand for that night, they were on the alert.

  Poor Sam was in a state of great agitation, and made an awkward attempt to assist his young friend.

  He offered to act as watch through the night, but the offer was declined.

  They intended to keep the decks themselves.

  “Dar’s mischief a-brewin’,” he whispered, “and yous had better git out ob dis unarthly place jist as quick as de good Lord will let you.”

  Which was precisely what Jim meant to do, as soon as Providence would open the way.

  As the only chance was by a bold stroke, and as there was no telling the precise moment when the danger would burst upon him, Jim Travers did not wait long.

  Creeping softly up the short stairs, Jim raised his head barely enough to see where the crew were.

  The two sailors were standing aft, talking together in low tones. Probably they were discussing at that very moment the best plan of disposing of the boy, who had become a dangerous encumbrance to them and their employer.

  It was more than likely that Hornblower had failed in his attempt to secure a ransom for the child, who was not the one for whom the other parties were negotiating.

  The age of the captive was such that his liberty would prove fatal to his abductors.

  Sam, the burly negro, was leaning against the mainmast, probably torturing his thick skull as to the best means of helping his young friend, whom he loved so well.

  Jim saw enough, and, creeping out of the cabin, he crawled down over the rudder, upon which he rested a few seconds, while he made ready for his venture. He could see the dark bank, and he wished that the moon would hide itself behind a thick cloud, the better to give him a chance. But the sky was clear, and it might be fatal to wait any longer.

  With a muttered prayer to Heaven not to desert him in his peril, he let himself down in the river, and struck out for the shore. He proceeded with all the care and stillness of which he was capable; but he had taken no more than half a dozen strokes, when he was seen by both the sailors.

  “Hello! what’s that?” asked Bob, running to the stern of the vessel, and peering over in the gloom.

  “I guess it am a whale,” suggested Sam, anxious to befriend the lad.

  “A whale!” repeated the man with an oath, “it’s that kid. Hello, there! Stop, or I’ll shoot you!”

  And he pointed his revolver at the head of Jim, who, instead of heeding the command, sank beneath the surface, swimming as far as he could before coming up. When he reappeared he was a dozen yards from the schooner.

  The very moment he came up the villain discharged two shots from his pistol directly at his head.

  “Look out, or dey’ll hit yous!” called Sam, unable to repress his solicitude for the boy.

  Could the miscreant finish the lad when swimming, it would be as good a way as any to dispose of him.

  It looked as if he had succeeded, for Jim uttered a groan, and sank out of sight.

  But it was only a trick intended to deceive the sailor.

  The latter observed the head as it reappeared, still nearer shore, and he fired again, two shots, as before. The other sailor, fearful of a miss, was hastily lowering a boat.

  He worked so expeditiously that the craft dropped into the water the next minute. Both sprang into the boat, and began rowing with might and main in pursuit of the fugitive.

  Poor Sam could only stay on deck, in a torment of fear, while he prayed the good Lord to protect the boy.

  When the little boat left the side of the larger one, Jim Travers had improved the precious moments to the utmost.

  He had already passed over the greater part of the intervening distance, and never in all his life did he swim as now. And there was need of it, for the pursuers were determined he should not escape them.

  Providentially, none of the bullets had struck him, though one or two had passed very near.

  Jim cast a terrified glance over his shoulder, and saw the boat coming with great speed toward him.

  There was no escape by diving, for there was too much light from the moon.

  He must reach land far enough in advance to give him an opportunity to flee or hide himself.

  A second after, Jim dropped his feet, and they touched bottom. Straightening up, he found the water reached only to his waist; and, with all the strength of which he was master, he fought his way to dry land, and hurried up the bank.

  The pursuers were close behind him, and both fired, the boat being so near that the impetus already given by the oars carried it hard against the shore.

  It was the best spot possible for the fugitive to land, being covered with wood and undergrowth, extending almost to the verge of the river itself.

  Directly into this Jim plunged and ran with the speed of a frightened deer, until he had gone a few rods, when he darted to one side, ran a little farther, and dropped flat on his face. For a moment, while he lay listening, he heard nothing but the thumping of his own heart, which he feared would betray him.

  In the silence he wondered what had become of his pursuers.

  Had they given up the chase, believing the fugitive was gone beyond recovery?

  Jim had no more than asked himself the question when he heard them moving through the undergrowth, a great deal closer than was agreeable. Worse still, they were approaching him, and discussing the question while doing so.

  “He didn’t run far,” said one, whose voice the lad recognized as belonging to Bob.

  “No; he must be hiding somewhere close by; we’ve each a charge left, and we’ll keep it ready to fire when he shows himself.”

  “Yes, he must be somewhere around here, and we’ll scare him up before long,” was the assuring expression.

  It looked very much as if they would keep their word, and Jim was sure he would have to move his quarters to escape discovery. This was a matter of exceeding difficulty, for the wretches were listening for some such noise, which would betray their victim.

  They seemed to be pursuing the hunt in a scientific manner, by walking back and forth over a certain area, gradually verging to the right, which was where Jim was crouching.

  The boy succeeded in creeping a dozen feet, perhaps, without drawing attention to himself, when he was brought to a standstill by coming squarely against a fence, whose rails were too close together to allow his body to pass through.

  Jim was in an agony of fear, for the two were steadily drawing near him.

  When he was in despair there came the flutter of a bird in precisely the opposite direction, and the suspicion of the sailors immediately turned thitherward.

  This was Jim’s golden opportunity, and he was over the obstruction in a twinkling. But the fates seemed against him. Just as he left the top rail, it broke with a loud crash; and, feeling that everything now depended on his fleetness, he made his legs do their duty. Once over the fence, the fugitive found he was in the broad, open highway, along which he darted like a lad whose life was at stake.

  As there was a light gleaming only a short way ahead, his enemies must have seen that it was hardly a safe thing to pursue their evil intent any farther.

  Dreading they would not stop, Jim kept up his headlong flight, dashing through the open gate, without a pause for dogs, and giving so resounding a knock on the door that the old farmer instantly appeared, wondering what in the name of the seven wonders could be the matter.

  “Can I stay here over night?” asked Jim, panting with terror; “a couple of bad men are after me.”

  “Yes, certainly, my boy; come in. I’ve one patient now, but you are welcome. My other boy is well enough to sit up.”

  Looking across the room, the astounded Jim saw his old friend, Tom Gordon, sitting in an easy-chair, with one leg bandaged, as though suffering from a hurt.
r />   CHAPTER XVII.

  The meeting between Tom Gordon and Jim Travers was one of the most joyous character.

  As soon as the fugitive recognized his old friend, he uttered a cry of delight, and rushing forward, threw his arms around his neck, and the latter responded with a regular shout of happiness.

  Then they laughed and asked and answered questions for some ten minutes, both in such a flutter of excitement, that their stock of knowledge was scarcely increased in the least.

  By the time they got down to their sober senses, Jim awoke to the fact that a couple of bad men were after him, and were likely to pursue him across the threshold of the farmer’s home.

  There was no one present during the affecting interview between the lads excepting the kind host, and he was so touched by the joy of his guests that he more than once drew his hand across his face in a very expressive manner.

  When Jim explained his peril, telling how it was he escaped to this place, the farmer said,—

  “You may bid farewell to all earthly fear while you’re here with me. The old woman is over to one of the neighbors’, and there ain’t no one home but me; howsomever, I’m equal to any two.”

  Just then the gate was heard to shut, and the farmer stepped hurriedly to the window and looked out.

  “Yes, there’s two men coming up the path.”

  “They’re after me,” said the frightened Jim; “let me run out through the back way; I can get away from them.”

  “You won’t do any such thing,” was the resolute reply of the old man, while he compressed his lips, and his eyes flashed resolutely.

  “This is my home, and the law says it is my castle; and if any man attempts to cross that threshold against my orders, on his head be the consequences.”

  By way of making matters consistent, he stepped briskly into the next room; and when he returned, which was in the course of three seconds, he held a loaded double-barreled gun in his grasp.

  “It’s well to have something like this to sorter emphasize what you say, you know—hello!”

  The scoundrels were at the door, and a resounding knock was heard.

  “Come in,” called back the old man, who stood in the room, gun in hand.

  Instead of opening the door, the criminals on the outside knocked again, their evident purpose being to gain an advantage by bringing some one to them.

  “Come in!”

  This was uttered in a tone that could be heard a hundred yards, and those who were applying for admission could not pretend to be ignorant of such a lusty welcome as that.

  The latch was lifted, the door shoved inward, and there the two sailors stood, each with a revolver in hand, looking into the room, but neither venturing to step over the threshold.

  We have stated where the farmer stood, and what his pose meant.

  Tom Gordon was nearly recovered from his fractured leg, and he, too, had risen from his chair with his pistol in hand. He told Jim to get as near him—or rather behind him—as he could, and if there was to be any shooting, why, he would take a hand.

  The sailors could not fail to take in the fact that the three were on their mettle, and something more than a summons was necessary to bring them to terms.

  “Well, what do you want?” asked the farmer, in a voice like a growl, while he lowered upon them in the most ominous style.

  “We want that boy,” replied Bob, the sailor, pointing his pistol at the fellow, whose heart beat a little faster when he found himself confronted by such danger.

  “Do you want to go with them?” asked the farmer of the boy.

  “No; they mean to kill me; they’ve tried it already, and you can see that my clothes are still wet from jumping into the river to swim away from them.”

  “He belongs to us. We don’t wish to hurt him; but he must go with us. If he refuses, we shall take him, and it will be bad for you.”

  “It will, eh?” muttered the farmer, a peculiar click, click, where his hand grasped the gun, showing that he was cocking the weapon, so as to be ready for business. “It will, eh? Now I’ll give you just two seconds and a half to take yourselves out of my sight, and if you don’t, I’ll empty both barrels of this gun into you.”

  “Let me know when you’re going to shoot, Mr. Pitcairn,” said Tom, also cocking his revolver, “because I want to join in.”

  The sailors, with some muttered imprecations, wheeled about and took themselves off, leaving the three masters of the field.

  This danger removed, the boys sat down, and while the farmer went out to attend to some work about the premises, they talked coolly and sensibly over the past and future.

  Tom was almost entirely recovered from the hurt to his leg, and expected to leave the house in the course of a few days.

  He had written to and received a letter from his employers, notifying him that his situation was gone and there was none to give him.

  So his future was as uncertain as that of Jim, who had not received a penny since leaving home the winter before, and who had not the remotest idea as to what he should do.

  Jim had a small sum of money with him, and his other clothes were still preserved by his friend.

  As Tom was the owner of some extra garments, these were donned by the fellow who had received such a ducking; and, as the room was pleasantly warm, he experienced no inconvenience from his bath.

  Tom had also quite a sum in the savings-bank, and though he was reluctant to call upon it, yet there was enough to provide both against any want.

  Tom said Farmer Pitcairn was a kind man, and thought he should be paid something for his entertainment of the wounded boy, as was manifestly his due; yet he would treat them as well without the slightest compensation.

  When the farmer came in, and the case was laid before him, he said that he could make use of Jim at once, and of Tom as soon as he should be able to go around, and they might remain on the farm as long as they chose.

  The life of a young farmer was not very attractive to either of the lads, but they concluded to fall back on it until they could find some more agreeable opening.

  There was some fear that the two sailors would show themselves again and make trouble, but nothing more of them was ever seen.

  When Jim related the story of his abduction, Tom and Mr. Pitcairn boiled with indignation, and insisted on a prosecution of the scoundrels, including Mr. Hornblower, who could easily be reached by the strong arm of the law.

  On mature reflection, however, the scheme was abandoned.

  Jim made himself as useful as he could; and being unusually bright and quick to learn, he disappointed the farmer with his readiness in picking up the hundreds of mysterious little things which make up the farmer’s life.

  He learned to milk the cows, to drive the plow, to ride the most fractious horses, and to break the fiery young colts; he knew precisely how to look after the horses, cattle, pigs, sheep, fowls, and everything at night and in the morning.

  As Tom regained the use of his limb, he joined him in this pursuit of knowledge, which had a great many pleasant features about it.

  They became expert in the use of the gun, and as one of the neighbors owned a rifle which he was willing to lend, they practiced until they grew quite skillful in the use of that weapon.

  The pistol afforded another branch of the science of projectiles, and, as the revolver was an unusually good one, they also became remarkably expert in the use of that little “bulldog.”

  Jim visited the city a short time after his arrival at the farmer’s, and brought back all the property belonging to himself and Tom, as well as the money deposited in the savings-bank.

  This latter move was one of the best they ever made. Two days after, the bank in which the deposit was made went to pieces, the depositors, consisting mainly of the poorer classes of people, losing all, while the officers retired with plethoric pockets to wait till the storm should blow over.

  During these beautiful days the lads held long and earnest conferences as to what th
ey should do, for they had reached an age wherein there was little time to spare.

  They discussed the plan of learning some useful trade, and decided to do so; but, after several attempts to secure the opportunity, all resulting in failure, they gave it up, concluding that the fates had not intended them for such a life. They could not bring themselves down to the plan of remaining farmers all their days.

  Tom would have liked to become a lawyer, and Jim inclined to the profession of medicine; but being without friends to secure the openings, they were compelled to give them the go-by, for the present at least. Another occupation seemed peculiarly attractive to them; that was one where each could make use of his skill in penmanship, something in the way of clerical work. In the pursuit of this phantom they learned the rather mournful fact that every such situation in the United States has from ten to a hundred applicants.

  The boys became well satisfied that Farmer Pitcairn was allowing them to remain with him under the pretense of work, when the real truth was that they were more of a hindrance than a help. This knowledge made them uncomfortable, and caused them to resolve that it should not continue.

  The spring wore along until the mild summer came, and still the boys remained with Farmer Pitcairn.

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  One night Jim Travers talked a great deal in his sleep. His tossing awoke Tom Gordon several times and caused him some anxiety, which was increased when he touched his friend’s cheek and found him suffering with a burning fever. Toward morning Jim’s restlessness partly subsided, and he fell into a fitful slumber. Tom dropped off, and did not awake until he heard his friend astir.

  “What’s the matter?” asked the elder, sitting up in bed and looking in a scared way at Jim, who having partly dressed himself, was sitting on the side of the couch.

  “I don’t know; I feel awful queer; my head is light; I saw father and sister Maggie last night: did you see anything of them?”

  “No; you were dreaming.”

  “They were here; father came in the room and looked at me, but did not speak and went away, but Maggie took hold of my hand and asked me to go with her. Wasn’t it strange, Tom, that she should come back after all these years? I saw her as plain as I do you.”