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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85eb9c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51916 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51916) diff --git a/old/51916-0.txt b/old/51916-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ded3044..0000000 --- a/old/51916-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9726 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry Anne, by Samuel Merwin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Merry Anne - -Author: Samuel Merwin - -Illustrator: Thomas Fogarty - -Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51916] -Last Updated: March 13, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE MERRY ANNE - -By Samuel Merwin - -Illustrated by Thomas Fogarty - -The Macmillan Company - -1904 - - -[Illustration: 0010] - -[Illustration: 0011] - -[Illustration: 0012] - - - - -THE MERRY ANNE - -[Illustration: 9013] - -Dear H. K. TV.: - -This tale dedicates itself to you as a matter of right. For we grew up -together on the bank of Lake Michigan; and you have not forgotten, over -there in Paris, the real house on stilts, nor the miles we have tramped -along the beach, nor, I am sure, the grim old life-saver on the near -Ludington, and his sturdy scorn for our student life-savers at Evanston. -And the endless night on Black Lake, with Klondike Andrews at the tiller -and never a breath of wind, we shall not forget that. Once we differed: -I failed to tempt you into a paddle in the Oki, one fresh spring day -three years ago; but then, your instinct of self-preservation always -worked better than mine, as the adventure in the Swampscott dory will -recall to you. - -But, after all, these doings do not make up the reason why the story -is partly yours; nor do the changes in the text that sprang from your -friendly comment. I will tell you the real reason. - -[Illustration: 8014] - -Early, very early, one summer morning, you and I stood on the -wheel-house of the P'ere Marquette Steamer No. 4--or was it the No. 3--a -few hours from Milwaukee. The Lake was still, the thick mist was faintly -illuminated by the hidden sun. Of a sudden, while the steamer was -throbbing through the silence, a motionless schooner, painted blue, with -a man in a red shirt at the wheel, loomed through the mist, stood out -for one vivid moment, then faded away. - -That schooner was the Merry Anne; and the man at the wheel was Dick -Smiley. What if he should some day chance upon this tale and declare it -untrue? know better, for we saw it there. - -S. M. - - - - -CHAPTER I--DICK AND HIS MERRY ANNE - -THE _Merry Anne_ was the one lumber schooner on Lake Michigan -that always appeared freshly painted; it was Dick Smiley's wildest -extravagance to keep her so. Sky blue she was (Annie's favorite color), -with a broad white line below the rail; and to see her running down on -the north wind, her sails white in the sun, her bow laying the waves -aside in gentle rolls to port and starboard, her captain balancing -easily at the wheel, in red shirt, red and blue neckerchief, and slouch -hat, was to feel stirring in one the old spirit of the Lakes. - -It was a lowering day off Manistee. Out on the horizon, now and then -dipping below it, a tug was struggling to hold two barges up into the -wind. Within the harbor, at the wharf of the lumber company, lay the -_Merry Anne_. Two of her crew were below, sleeping off an overdose -of Manistee whiskey. The third, a boy of seventeen, got up in slavish -imitation of his captain,--red shirt, slouch hat, and all,--was at work -lashing down the deck load. Roche, the mate, stood on the wharf, the -centre of a little group of stevedores and rivermen. “Hi there, Pink,” - he shouted at the red shirt, “what you doin' there?” - -The boy threw a sweeping glance lake-ward before replying, “Makin' -fast.” - -“That 'll do for you. There won't be no start _this_ afternoon.” - -“But Cap' Smiley said--” - -“None o' your lip, or I 'll Cap' Smiley you. - -“Pretty ugly, out there, all right enough,” observed a riverman. -“Cornin' up worse, too. Give you a stiff time with all that stuff -aboard.” - -“I ain't so sure about that,” said Roche, with a swagger. “If _I_ was -cap'n o' this schooner, she'd start on the minute, but Smiley's one o' -your fair-weather sort.” - -“Sure he is. He done a heap o' talkin' about that time he brung the -_William Jones_ into Black Lake before the wind, the day the _John T. -Eversley_ was lost; but Billy Underdown was sailin' with him then, and -he told me hisself that he had the wheel all the way--Smiley never done -a thing but hang on to the companionway and holler at him to look out -for the north set o' the surf outside the piers; and there's my little -Andy that ain't nine year old till the sixth o' September, could ha' -told him the surf sets south off Black Lake, with a northwest wind. If -it hadn't been for Billy, the Lord only knows where Dick Smiley'd be -to-day.” - -A tug hand had joined the group, and now he addressed himself to Roche. - -“Cap'n Peters wants to know if you're a-goin' to try to make it, Mr. -Roche.” - -“Not by a dam' sight.” - -“Well--I guess he won't be sorry to wait till mornin'. What time do you -think you 'll want us?” - -“Six o'clock sharp.” - -“Them's Cap'n Smiley's orders, is they?” - -“Them's _my_ orders, and they're good enough for you.” - -“Oh, that's all right, of course, only Cap'n Peters, he said if 'twas -anybody else, he'd just tie up and wait, but there ain't never any -tellin', he says, what Dick Smiley 'll take it into his head to do.” - -“You tell your cap'n that Mr. Roche said to come at six in the mornin'.” - -“All right. I 'll tell him. Say--Cap'n Smiley ain't anywhere around, is -he?” - -“_No, Cap'n Smiley ain t anywheres around!_” mimicked Roche, angrily. -“If you want to know whereabouts Cap'n Smiley is, he's uptown -skylarkin', that's where _he_ is.” - -The river hands laughed at this. - -“I reckon he's somethin' of a hand for the ladies, Dick Smiley is, with -them blue eyes o' his'n,” said one. “I ain't a-tellin', you understand, -but there's boys in town here that could let you know a thing or two if -they was minded.” - -As a matter of fact, Dick was at that moment in an up-town jewellery -shop, fingering a necklace of coral. - -“I want a longer one,” he was saying, “with something pretty hanging on -the end of it--there, that's the boy--the one with big rough beads and -the red rose carved on the end.” - -“Must be somebody's birthday, Captain,” observed the jeweller, with a -wink. - -And Dick, who could never resist a wink, replied: “That's what. Day -after to-morrow, too, and I haven't any too much time to make it in.” - -“Here's a nice piece--if she likes the real red.” - -Dick took it in his hands and nodded over it. “I think that would please -her. She likes bright colors.” He drew a wallet from a hip pocket and -disclosed a thick bundle of bills. - -“I shouldn't think you'd like to carry so much money on you, Captain, in -your line of work.” - -“It isn't so much. They are most all ones.” But the jeweller, seeing a -double X on the top, only smiled and remarked that it was a dark day. - -“Yes, too dark. I don't like it. Makes me think of the cyclone three -years ago April, when the _Kate Howard_ went down off Lakeville. I spent -three hours roosting on the topmast that day. It was black then, like -this. If it keeps up, you 'll have to turn on your lights in here.” - -“Guess I will. It wouldn't hurt now. Well, good-by, Captain. Drop in -again next time you run in here.” - -“All right. But there's no telling when that will be. I have to go where -Captain Stenzenberger sends me, you know.” - -“You don't own your schooner yet, then?” - -“No; only a quarter of it. Well, good-by.” And he left the shop with the -corals, securely wrapped, stowed in an inside pocket. - -The first big drops of rain were falling when he reached the schooner. -The deck was deserted, but he found Roche and his wharf acquaintances -settled comfortably in the cabin. Their talk stopped abruptly at the -sight of his boots coming down the companionway. - -“Why isn't the load lashed down, Pete?” he asked, addressing Roche. - -“Why--oh, it was lookin' so bad, I thought we'd better wait till you -come.” - -“Where's the tug? Don't Peters know we want him?” - -The loungers were silent. All looked at Roche. - -“Why, yes--sure. He ain't showed up yet, though.” - -“You ain't goin' to try to make it, are you, Cap'n?” asked a riverman. - -“Going to try? We _are_ going to make it, if that's what you mean.” - -One of the men rose. “I'm going up the wharf, Cap'n. If you like, I 'll -speak to Peters.” - -“All right. I wish you would. And say, Pete, you take Pink and see that -everything is down solid. I don't care to distribute those two-by-fours -all down the east coast.” - -Roche went out, and the others got up one by one and took shelter in the -lee of a lumber pile on the wharf. A little later, when he saw the tug -steaming up the river, Roche shook the rain from his eyes and looked -long at the black cloud billows that were rolling up from the northwest, -then he slipped below and took a strong pull at his flask. The tug came -alongside, and then Roche sought Dick. - -“Cap'n, what's the use?” he said in an agitated voice. “Don't you -see we're runnin' our nose right into it? Why, if we was a -three-hundred-footer, we'd have our hands full out there. I don't like -to say nothin', but--” - -Smiley, his hat jammed on the back of his head, his shirt, now dripping -wet, clinging to his trunk and outlining bunches of muscle on his -shoulders and back, his light hair stringing down over his forehead, -merely looked at him curiously. - -“You see how it is, Cap'n, I--” - -“What are you talking about? All right, Pink, make fast there! Who's -running this schooner, you or me?” - -“Oh, I don't mean nothin', Cap'n; but seein' there ain't no particular -hurry--” - -“No hurry! Why, man, I've got to lay alongside the Lakeville pier by -Wednesday night, or break something. What's the matter with you, anyhow? -Lost your nerve?” - -“No, I ain't lost my nerve. And you ain't got no call to talk that way -to me, Dick Smiley.” - -“Here, here, Pete, none of that. We're going to pull out in just about -two minutes. If you aren't good for it, I 'll wait long enough to tumble -your slops ashore. Put your mind on it now--are you coming or not?” - -“Oh, I'm cornin', Cap'n, of course, but--” - -“Shut up, then.” - -The idlers on the wharf had not heard what was said, but they saw Roche -change color and duck below for another pull at his flask. - -The tug swung out into the stream; the _Merry Anne_ fell slowly away -from the wharf. - -“Call up those loafers, Pete,” shouted Smiley, as he rested his hands -on the wheel. The two sailors, roused by a shake and an oath, scrambled -drowsily upon the deck with red eyes and unsettled nerves, and were -set to work raising the jib and double-reefing foresail and mainsail. -Captain Peters sounded three blasts for the first bridge, and headed -down-stream. - -Passing on through the narrow draws of the bridges and between the -buildings that lined the river, the _Merry Anne_ drew near to the long -piers that formed the entrance to the channel. And Roche, standing with -flushed face by the foremast, looked out over the piers at the angry -lake, now a lead-gray color, here streaked with foam, there half -obscured by the driving squalls. His eyes followed the track of one -squall after another as they tore their way at right angles to the surf. - -Already the _Anne_ had begun to stagger. At the end of the towing hawser -the tug was nosing into the half-spent rollers that got in between the -piers, and was tossing the spray up into the wind. - -One of the life-saving crew, in shining oilskins, was walking the pier; -he paused and looked at them--even called out some words that the wind -took from his lips and mockingly swept away. Roche looked at him with -dull eyes; saw his lips moving behind his hollowed hands; looked out -again at the muddy streaks and the whirling mist, out beyond at the two -barges laboring on the horizon, gazed at the white and yellow surf. Then -his eye lighted a little, and he made his way back to the wheel. - -“Don't be a fool, Dick,” he shouted. “Just look a' that and tell me -you can make it. I know better. I'm an old friend, Dick, and I like you -better'n anybody, but you mustn't be a dam' fool. Ain't no use bein' a -dam' fool.” - -“Who are you talking to?” - -“Lemme blow the horn, Dick.'Taint too late to stop 'em. We can get back -all right--start in the mornin'. Don't you see, Dick--” - -Smiley's eyes were fixed keenly on him for a moment; then they swept -to the windward pier. He snatched the horn from Roche's hand and blew a -blast. - -The sailors up forward heard it, and shouted and waved their arms. A tug -hand, seeing the commotion, though he heard nothing, finally was made -to understand, and Captain Peters slowed his engines. Smiley, meanwhile, -was steering up close to the windward pier. - -“Tumble off there, Pete,” he ordered. “Quick, now.” - -“What you going to do to me? Ain't goin' to put me off there, are you?” - -“Get a move on, or I 'll throw you off. There's no room for you here.” - -“Hold on there, Dick; I ain't got no clothes or nothin'. And you owe me -my pay--” - -“You 'll have to go to Cap'n Stenzenberger about that. Here, Pink, heave -him off. Quick, now!” - -“Don't you lay your hand on me, Pink Harper--” - -But the words were lost. The young sailor in the red shirt fairly -pitched him over the rail. The life saver, running alongside, gave him -a hand. Captain Peters was leaning out impatiently from his wheel-house -door, and now at the signal he dove back and hurriedly rang for full -steam ahead; it was no place to run chances. And as the schooner passed -out into the open lake, leaving the lighthouse behind her, and soon -afterward casting off the tug, there was no time to look back at the -raging figure on the pier. Though once, to be sure, Dick had turned with -a laugh and shouted out a few lines of a wild parody on the song of the -day, “Baby Mine.” - -The song proved so amusing that, when they were free of the tug and -were careening gayly off to the southwest with all fast on board and -a boiling sea around them, he took it up again. And braced at a sharp -angle with the deck, one eye on the sails, another cast to windward, his -brown hands knotted around the spokes of the wheel, he sang away at the -top of his lungs:-- - - “He is coming down the Rhine. - - With a bellyful of wine,” - -Young Harper worked his way aft along the upper rail. His eye fell on -the figure of his captain, and he laughed and nodded. - -“Lively goin', Cap'n.” - -Lively it certainly was. - -“Guess there ain't no doubt about _our_ makin' it!” - -“Doubt your uncle!” roared the Captain. And he winked at his young -admirer. - -“Guess Mr. Roche didn't like the looks of it.” - -“Guess not.” - -Harper crept forward again. And Smiley, with a laugh in his eye, squared -his chest to the storm, and thought of the necklace stowed away in the -cabin; and then he thought of her who was to be its owner day after -to-morrow, and “I wonder if we will make it,” thought he; “I wonder!” - -And make it they did. Sliding gayly up into a humming southwest wind, -with every rag up and the sheets hauled home, with the bluest of skies -above them and the bluest of water beneath (for the Lakes play at April -weather all around the calendar), Wednesday afternoon found them turning -Grosse Pointe. - -The bright new paint was prematurely old now, the small boat was missing -from the stern davits, the cabin windows had been crushed in, and -one sailor carried his arm in a sling, but they had made it. Harper, -hollow-eyed, but merry, had the wheel; Smiley was below, snatching his -first nap in forty-eight hours, with the red corals under his head. - -“Ole,” called Harper, “wake up the Cap'n, will you? I can't leave the -wheel. He said we was to call him off Grosse Pointe.” - -So Ole called him, and was soon followed back on deck by another -hollow-eyed figure. - -“Guess it's just as well Mr. Roche didn't come along,” observed the -boy, as he relinquished the wheel. “_He'd_'a' had all he wanted, and no -mistake.” - -“He had enough to start with. There wasn't any room for drunks this -trip.” - -As he spoke, Smiley was running his eye over the familiar yellow bluffs, -glancing at the lighthouse tower, at the stack of the water works -farther down the coast, at the green billows of foliage with here and -there a spire rising above them, and, last and longest, at the two piers -that reached far out into the Lake,--one black with coal sheds, the -other and nearer, yellow with new lumber. - -Between these piers, built in the curve of the beach and nestling under -the bluff, was a curious patchwork of a house. Built of odds and ends of -lumber, even, in the rear, of driftwood, perched up on piles so that the -higher waves might run up under the kitchen floor, small wonder that the -youngsters of the shore had dubbed it “the house on stilts.” - -Old Captain Fargo (and who was not a “Captain” in those days!) had built -it with his own hands, just as he had built every one of the sailboats -and rowboats that strewed the beach, and had woven every one of the nets -that were wound on reels up there under the bluff. - -A surprisingly spacious old house it was, too, with a room for Annie -upstairs on the Lake side, looking out on a porch that was just large -enough to hold her pots and boxes of geraniums and nasturtiums and -forget-me-nots. - -Smiley could not see the house yet; it was hidden by the lumber piles on -the pier. But his eyes knew where to look, and they lingered there, -all the while that his sailor's sixth sense was watching the set of the -sails and the scudding ripples that marked the wind puffs. He wore a -clean red shirt to-day and a neckerchief that lay in even folds around -his neck. Redolent of soap he was, his face and hands scrubbed until -they shone. And still his eyes tried to look through fifty feet of -lumber to the little flowering porch, until a sail came in sight around -the end of the pier. Then he straightened up, and shifted his grip on -the spokes. - -The small boat was also blue with a white stripe. At the stern sat a -single figure. But though they were still too far apart to distinguish -features, Dick knew that the figure was that of a girl--a girl of a -fine, healthy carriage, her face tanned an even brown, and a laugh in -her black eyes. He knew, even before he brought his glass to bear -on her, that she was dressed in a blue sailor suit, with a rolling -blue-and-white collar cut V-shape and giving a glimpse of her round -brown neck. He knew that her black hair was gathered simply with a -ribbon and left to hang about her shoulders, that her arms were bared to -the elbow. He could see that she was carrying a few yards more sail than -was safe for a catboat in that breeze, and there was a laugh in his own -eyes as he shook his head over her recklessness. He knew that it would -do no good to speak to her about it; and her father and mother had never -been able to look upon her with any but fond, foolish eyes. - -Steadily the _Merry Anne_ drew in toward the pier; rapidly the -_Captain_--so Annie called her boat--came bobbing and skimming out to -meet her. A few moments more and Dick could wave his hat and shout, -“Ahoy, there!” And he heard in reply, as he had known that he should, a -merry “Ahoy, there! I 'll beat you in!” And then they raced for it, Annie -gaining, as she generally could, while the schooner was laboriously -coming about, and working in slowly under reduced sail. She ran in close -to the pier, came up into the wind, and waited there while the crew were -making the schooner fast. - -At length the stevedores started unloading the lumber and Dick was free. -He leaned on the rail and looked down at Annie who had by this time -come alongside; and he saw that she had a bunch of blue-and-white -forget-me-nots in her hair. - -“Well,” she said, looking up, and driving all power of consecutive -thought out of Dick's head, as she always did when she rested her black -eyes full on his, “well, I beat you.” - -“Take me aboard, Annie. I've got something for you.” - -“All right, come down. You can take the sheet.” - -Dick pushed off from the schooner's side and the _Captain_ filled away -toward the shore. - -“Hold on, Annie, come about. I don't have to go in yet.” - -“Where do you want to go?” - -“I don't care--run out a little way.” - -Annie brought her about and Dick watched her with admiring eyes. “Well, -now,” he began, as they settled down for a run off the wind, “I didn't -know whether I was going to get here to-day or not.” - -“It _was_ pretty bad.” - -“You were thinking of me, weren't you, Annie?” - -She smiled and gave her attention to the boat. - -“Roche was drunk, and I had to leave him at Manistee.” - -“You didn't come down shorthanded, did you, Dick,--in that storm?” - -He nodded. - -“But how? You couldn't have got much sleep.” - -“I didn't get any till this noon.” - -“Now, that's just like you, Dick, always running risks when you don't -have to.” - -“But I did have to.” - -“I don't see why.” - -“What day's to-day?” - -A mischievous light came into her eyes, but her face was demure. -“Wednesday,” she replied. - -“Yes, I knew that.” - -“Why did you ask me, then?” - -“Oh, Annie, Annie! When are you going to stop talking that way?” - -Again the boat claimed all her attention. He leaned forward and dropped -his voice. - -“Don't you think I've waited most long enough, Annie?” - -“Now, Dick, be sensible.” - -“But haven't I been sensible? Not a word have I said for two months. And -I told you then I would speak on your birthday.” - -“So you really remembered my birthday?” - -“Remembered it, Annie! What a girl you are! Do you know how long I've -been waiting? And all the boys laughing? It's two years this month. It -was on your birthday that I saw you first, you know. And it wasn't a -month after that that I spoke to you. How could I help it? Who could -have waited longer? And you, with your way of making me think you were -really going to say yes, and then just laughing at me.” - -“Now, Dick--if you don't stop and be sensible, I 'll take you straight -inshore.” - -“Oh, you wouldn't do that, Annie?” - -“Yes, I would. I will now. Ready about!” The _Captain_ came rapidly up -into the wind, but stopped there with sail flapping; for Dick held the -sheet, and his hand had imprisoned hers on the tiller. - -“Now, Dick--Dick--” - -“Wait a minute. Don't be angry with me when I've risked the schooner -and everybody aboard her just so's to get down here on your birthday. -Promise me you 'll hold her in the wind while I get you your present.” - -She hesitated, and looked out toward the horizon. - -“Promise me that, Annie, and I 'll let go your hand.” - -“You--you've forgotten--what you promised--” - -“I know, I said I'd never take hold of your hand again until you put it -in mine--didn't I?” - -She nodded, still looking away. - -“And I've broken the promise. Do you know why, Annie? It's because when -you look at me the way you do sometimes, I could break every promise -I've ever made--and every law of Congress if I thought it would just -keep you looking at me.” - -Not a word from Annie. - -“Promise me, Annie, that you 'll hold her here?” - -Still no word. - -“Won't you just nod, then?” - -She hesitated a moment longer, then gave one uncertain little nod. He -released her hand, held the sheet between his knees, drew the package -from his pocket, and displayed the corals. She was trying bravely not to -look around, but her glance wavered, and finally she turned and looked -at it with eager eyes. “Oh, Dick, did you bring that for me?” - -“I surely did.” He held it up, and when she bent her head forward, he -slipped it over and around her neck. Her eyes shone as she ran the red -beads through her fingers and looked at the carved pendant. Dick leaned -back and watched her contentedly. Finally she let her eyes steal upward -and meet his, with a smile that was half roguish. “I never really -laughed at you, did I, Dick?” - -He moved forward with sudden eagerness. “Don't you think now is a good -time to say yes, Annie,--now, on your birthday? I own a quarter of the -schooner now, you know; and I'm ready to make another payment to-morrow. -And don't you see, when we're married you can help me to save, and -before we know it we can have a home and a business of our own.” She was -bending over the corals. “You didn't really think you could save more -with--with me, than you could alone, did you, Dick?” - -“Yes, I'm sure of it. It will give me something to work for, don't you -see?” - -“But--but--” very shyly, this--“Haven't you anything to work for now?” - -“Oh, Annie, do you mean that--are you telling me you 'll give me the -right to work for you? That's all I want to know.” - -“Now, Dick--please let go my hand--you promised, you know--” - -“What is a promise now! If you knew how you torture me when you lead me -on till I'm half wild and then change around till I don't know what I've -said or what you've said or hardly who I am--” - -“No, Dick, you mustn't--I mean it. We must go in. See, there's father on -the beach. It must be supper-time.” - -“Wait a minute--I haven't half told you--” - -But she was merciless. The _Captain_ came about and headed shoreward. - -“Did you meet the revenue cutter anywhere up the Lake--the _Foote?_ She -was here yesterday.” - -“There you are again, all changed around! What do I care about the -_Foote_--when I'm just waiting to hear you say the only word that can -make my life worth living. Now, Annie--” - -“You mustn't, Dick. I've let you say too much now. If you go on, you 'll -make me feel that I can't even thank you for your present.” - -“Was that all? Were you only thanking me?” - -She nodded, and Dick's face fell into gloom. But when the _Captain_ was -beached, and Annie had leaped lightly over the rail, she turned and gave -him one merry blushing look that completely reversed the effect of her -reproof. And as she hurried up to the house, he could only gaze after -her helplessly. - - - - -CHAPTER II--THE NEW MATE - -[Illustration: 0046] - -IN the morning the _William Schmidt_, Henry Smiley, Master, came in -from Chicago and tied up across the pier from the _Merry Anne_. - -Henry, Dick's cousin, was a short, stocky, man, said to be somewhat of -a driver with his sailors. He seldom had much to say, never drank, was -shrewd at a bargain, and was supposed to have a considerable sum stowed -away in the local savings bank. Though he was wanting in the qualities -that made his younger cousin popular, he was daring enough in his quiet -way, and he had been known, when he thought the occasion justified it, -to run long chances with his snub-nosed schooner. - -After breakfast Dick walked across the broad pier between the piles of -lumber, and found Henry in his cabin. They greeted each other cordially. - -“Sit down,” said Henry. “Did you come down through that nor'wester?” - -Dick nodded. - -“Have any trouble?” - -“Oh, no. Lost some sleep--that's all. You aren't going down to the yards -to-day, are you?” - -“Yes--I think likely. Why?” - -“I 'll go along with you. I'm ready to make another payment on the -schooner. I've been thinking it over, and it strikes me I'm paying about -three times what she's worth. What do you think? Would it do any harm to -have a little talk about it with the Cap'n? You know him better than I -do.” - -Henry shook his head. “I wouldn't. He is too smart for you. He will beat -you any way you try it, and have you thanking him before he is through -with you. I have gone all over this ground before, you know. Of course -he is an old rascal--but I don't know of any other way you could even -get an interest in a schooner. You see, you haven't any capital. He will -give you all the time you want, and I don't know but what he's entitled -to a little extra, everything considered. But don't say anything, -whatever you do. You've got too good a thing here.” - -“You think I ought to just shut up and let him bleed me?” - -“He isn't bleeding you. Just think it over, Dick. You are making a -living, and you already have a quarter interest in your schooner. You -couldn't ask much more at your age. Have you heard from him yet, by the -way?” - -“No.” - -“He spoke to me the other day about wanting to see you when you came in. -There's another order to come down from Spencer.” - -“Where's that?” - -“Up in the Alpena country.” - -“Lake Huron, eh? Oh--isn't that where you went in the spring?” - -“Yes, I've been there. An old fellow named Spencer runs a little -one-horse mill, and he's selling timber and shingles. And from what -the Cap'n said, I don't think he'd care if you brought along a little -venture of your own. That's the way I used to do, when I was paying for -the _Schmidt_.” - -“How could I do that?” - -“Spencer will give you a little credit. You can stow away a few thousand -feet, and clear twenty or thirty dollars. It helps along.” - -“All right, I 'll try it. Are you sure the old man won't care?” - -“Oh, yes. He's willing enough to do the square thing, so long as it -keeps us feeling good and doesn't lose him anything.” - -“Say--there's another thing, Henry. I fired Roche, up at Manistee.” - -“Fired him?” Henry's brows came together. - -“Yes, I had to. I had stood him as long as I could.” - -“I don't know what the Cap'n will say about that.” - -“I'd like to know what he can say. I was in command.” - -“Yes, I know--of course you had a right to; but the thing is to keep on -his good side. Suppose we go right down to the yards, and see if you can -get your story in before Roche's.” - -“What does the Cap'n care about my men, I'd like to know!” - -[Illustration: 0051] - -“Now, keep cool, Dick. Roche, you see, used to work for him,--I don't -know but what they're related,--and it was because the Cap'n spoke to -me about him that I recommended him to you when I did. And look here, -Dick,”--Henry smiled as he laid a hand on his cousin's shoulder,--“I'm a -good deal older than you are, and you can take my word for it. Don't get -sour on things. Of course people will do you if they can; but it's human -nature, and you can't change it by growling about it. You are doing -well, and what you need now is to keep your eyes open and your mouth -shut. Why should you want to hurry things along?” - -A flush came over Dick's face. “There's a reason all right enough. You -see, Henry, there's a little girl not so very many miles from here--” - -“Oho!” thought Henry, “a little girl!” But his face was immobile, -excepting a momentary curious expression that passed over it. - -“Now don't get to thinking it's all fixed up, because it isn't--not yet. -But you see, I've been thinking that when I've got a little something to -offer--” - -“There's another thing you can take my word for, my boy,” said Henry, -with a dry smile; “don't get impetuous. Marrying may be all right, but -it wants to be done careful.” - -Captain Stenzenberger's lumber yard was a few miles away, at the Chicago -city limits. As the two sailors left the pier to walk up to the railway -station, Dick was glad to change the subject for the first one that came -into his head. “What do you suppose the _Foote_ has been doing here this -week, Dick? I heard she put in Tuesday or Wednesday.” - -“Looking for Whiskey Jim, I suppose.” - -“Oh, are they on that track again?” - -“Haven't you seen the papers?” - -“No--not for more than a week.” - -“Well, it's quite a yarn. From what has been said, I rather guess it's -the liquor dealers that are stirring it up this time. There is a story -around that he has been counterfeiting the red-seal label on their -bottles. I think they're all off the track, though. Anybody could -tell 'em that there's no such man. Every time a case of smuggling comes -up, the papers talk about 'Whiskey Jim,' no matter if it's up at the -straits or down on the St. Lawrence.” - -“But what's the trouble now?” - -“Oh, they're saying that this fellow is a rich man that has a big -smuggling system with agents all around the Lakes and dealers in the -cities that are in his pay,--sort of a smuggling trust.” - -“Sounds like a fairy story.” - -“That's about what it is. The regular dealers have taken up the fight to -protect their trade, and one or two of the papers in particular have put -reporters on the case, and all that sort of thing. And as usual they're -announcing just what they've done and what they're going to do. The old -_Foote_ is to make a tour of the Lakes, and look into every port. And if -there is any Whiskey Jim, I 'll bet he's somewhere over in Canada by this -time, reading the papers and laughing at 'em.” Captain Stenzenberger was -seated in his swivel chair in his dingy little one-story office at the -corner of the lumber yard. His broad frame was overloaded with flesh. -His paunch seemed almost to rest on his thighs as he sat there, chewing -an unlighted cigar in the corner of his mouth,--a corner that had been -moulded around the cigar by long habit and that looked incomplete -when the cigar was not there. His fat neck--the fatter for a large -goitre--was wider than his cheeks, and these again were wider than his -forehead, so that his head seemed to taper off from his shoulders. A -cropped mustache, a tanned, wrinkled face and forehead, and bright brown -eyes completed the picture. When his two captains came in, he rested -his pudgy hands on the arms of his chair, readjusted his lips around the -cigar, and nodded. “How are you, boys?” said he, in a husky voice. “Have -a good trip?” This last remark was addressed to Dick. - -“First part was bad, but it cleared up later.” - -“Did you put right out into that storm from Manistee?” - -“Yes--you see I had the wind behind me all the way down. Got to get a -new small boat, though.” - -The “Captain” did not press the subject. In return for the privilege -of buying the schooner by instalments he permitted Dick to pay for the -insurance, so the young man could be as reckless as he liked. - -Dick now explained that he had come to make a payment, and the -transaction was accomplished. - -“Step over and have a drink, boys,” was the next formality; and the two -stood aside while Stenzenberger got his unwieldy body out of the chair, -put on his hat, and led the way out. - -Adjoining the lumber yard on the west was a small frame building, -bearing the sign, “The Teamster's Friend.” It had been set down here -presumably to catch the trade of the market gardeners who rumbled -through in the small hours of every morning. In the rear, backed up -against a lumber pile, was a long shed where the teams could wait under -cover while their drivers were carousing within. A second sign, painted -on the end of this shed, announced that Murphy and McGlory were the -proprietors of the “sample room and summer garden.” The three men -entered, and seated themselves at a table. There was no one behind the -bar at the moment, but soon a woman glanced in through the rear doorway. - -Stenzenberger smiled broadly on her, and winked. “How d' do, Madge,” he -said. “Can't you give us a little something with a smile in it,--one o' -your smiles maybe now?” - -She was a tall woman, with a full figure and snapping eyes,--attractive, -in spite of a crow's-foot wrinkle or so. She returned the smile, -wearily, and said, “I 'll call Joe, Mr. Stenzenberger.” - -“You needn't do that now, Madge. Draw it with those pretty hands of -yours, there's a dear.” - -So she came in behind the bar, wiping her hands on her apron, and -quietly awaited their orders. - -“What 'll it be, boys?” - -Dick suggested a glass of beer, but Henry smiled and shook his head. -“You might make it ginger ale for me.” - -“I don't know what to do with that cousin of yours,” said Stenzenberger -to Dick. “He's a queer one. I don't like to trust a man that's got no -vices. What _are_ your vices, anyhow, Smiley?” - -Henry smiled again. “Ask Dick, there. He ought to know all about me.” - -Stenzenberger looked from one to the other; then he raised his foaming -glass, and with a “Prosit” and a stiff German nod, he put it down at a -gulp. - -“Been reading about the revenue case?” Henry asked of his superior. - -“I saw something this morning.” - -“I've been quite interested in it. Billy Boynton told me yesterday that -they had searched his schooner. It's a wonder they haven't got after us -if they're holding up fellows like him. Do you think they 'll ever get -this Whiskey Jim, Cap'n?” - -“No, they talk too much. And they couldn't catch a mud-scow with that -old side-wheeler of theirs.” - -“Guess that's right. The _Foote_ must have started in here before the -_Michigan_, and she's thirty years old if she's a day. The boys are all -talking about it down at the city. I dropped around at the Hydrographic -Office after I saw Billy, and found two or three others that had been -hauled over. It seems they've stumbled on a pipe-line half built under -the Detroit River near Wyandotte, and there's been a good deal of -excitement. There's capital behind it, you see; and a little capital -does wonders with those revenue men.” - -Stenzenberger was showing symptoms of readiness to return to his desk, -but Henry, who rarely grew reminiscent, was now fairly launched. - -“They can't get an effective revenue system, because they make it too -easy for a man to get rich. It's like the tax commissioners and the -aldermen and the legislators,--when you put a man where he can rake off -his pile, month after month, without there being any way of checking him -up, look out for his morals. And where they're all in it together, no -one dares squeal. It's a good deal like the railway conductors. - -“You remember last year when the Northeastern Road laid off all but two -or three of its old conductors for stealing fares? Well, it wasn't a -month afterward that one of the 'honest' ones came to me and hired the -_Schmidt_ to carry a twelve-hundred-dollar grand piano up to Milwaukee, -where he lives. He had reasons of his own for not wanting to ship by -rail. No, sir, it wouldn't be hard for me to have sympathy with an -honest thief that goes in and runs his chances of getting shot or -knocked on the head,--that calls for some nerve,--but these fellows that -put up a bluff as lawmakers and policemen and revenue officers and then -steal right and left--deliver me!” - -“Well, boys, I guess I 'll have to step back. I'm a busy man, you know. -Have another before we go?” - -“One minute, Cap'n,” said Dick. “There's something I want to talk over -with you, if you can spare the time.” - -Stenzenberger sat down again. Henry, whose outbreak against the evils of -society had stirred up, apparently, some pet feeling of bitterness, now -sat moodily looking at the table. - -“It's about Roche, Cap'n,” Dick went on. “I had to leave him at -Manistee.” - -“Why?” - -“He drinks too much for me--I couldn't depend on him a minute. He bummed -around up there, and got himself too shaky to be any use to me.” - -Stenzenberger, with expressionless face, chewed his cigar. “What did you -do for a mate?” - -“Came down without one.” - -“Have you found a man yet?” - -“No--haven't tried. I thought you might have some one you could -suggest.” - -“I don't know. You 'll want to be starting up to Spencer's place in a day -or so.” He chewed his cigar thoughtfully for a moment, then dropped his -voice. “There's a man right here you might be able to use. Do you know -McGlory?” - -“No.” - -“You do, Henry?” - -“Yes, he was my mate for a year.” - -“Well,” said Dick, “any man that suited Henry for a year ought to suit -me.” - -“You 'll find him a good, reliable man,” responded Henry, in an -undertone. “He has a surly temper, but he knows all about a schooner.” - -“Well,--if he's anywhere around here now, we could fix it right up.” - -Stenzenberger looked around. The woman had slipped out. “Madge,” he -called; “Madge, my dear.” - -She entered as quietly as before. - -“Come in, my dear. You know Cap'n Smiley, don't you?” - -No, she didn't. - -“That's a fact. He's never seen in sample rooms. He sets up to be better -than the rest of us; but I say, look out for him. And here's his cousin, -another Cap'n Smiley, the handsomest man on the Lakes.” Dick blushed at -this. “Sit down a minute with us.” - -She shook her head, and waited for him to come to the point. - -“Where's that man of yours, my dear? Is he anywhere around?” - -“What is it you want of him?” - -“I want him to know our young man here. I think they're going to like -each other. You tell him we want to see him.” - -She hesitated; then with a suspicious glance around the group left the -room. - -In a moment McGlory appeared, a short, heavy-set man with high -cheek-bones, a low, sloping forehead, and a curling black mustache. He -nodded to Stenzenberger and Henry, and glanced at Dick. - -“Joe,” said the lumber merchant, “shake hands with Cap'n Dick Smiley. -He's the best sailor between here and Buffalo, and the only trouble with -him is we can't get a mate good enough for him. A man's got to know his -business to sail with Dick Smiley. Ain't that so, Henry?” - -“I guess that's right.” - -“And Henry tells me you're the man that can do it.” - -This pleasantry had no visible effect on McGlory. He was looking Dick -over. - -“I don't know about that, Cap'n. I promised Madge I'd give up the Lake -for good.” - -“The Cap'n here,” pursued Stenzenberger, “is going to start to-morrow -or next day for Spencer, to take on a load of timber and shingles.” His -small brown eyes were fixed intently on the saloon keeper as he talked. -“And I think we 'll have to keep him running up there for a good part of -the summer. Queer character, that Spencer,” he added, addressing Dick. -“He has lived all his life up there in the pines. They say he was a -squatter--never paid a cent for his land. But he has been there so many -years now, I guess any one would have trouble getting him out. He has -got an idea that his timber's better than anybody else's. He cuts it all -with an old-fashioned vertical saw, and stamps his mark on every piece.” - -“Why should it be any better?” - -“I don't know that it is, though he selects it carefully. The main thing -is, he sells it dirt cheap,--has to, you know, to stand any show against -the big companies. He's so far out of the way, no boats would take the -trouble to run around there if he didn't. Well, McGlory, we've got a -good thing to offer you. You can drop in here once a week or so, you -know, to see how things are running. Come over to the office with us and -we 'll settle the terms.” Stenzen-berger was rising as he spoke. - -“Well, I don't know. I couldn't come over for a few minutes, Cap'n.” - -“How soon could you?” - -“About a quarter of an hour.” - -“All right, we 'll be looking for you. Here, give me half a dozen ten -cent straights while I'm here.” - -McGlory walked to the door with them, and stood for a moment looking -after them. - -When he turned and pushed back through the swinging inner doors, he -found Madge standing by the bar awaiting him, one hand held behind her, -the other clenched at her side, her eyes shooting fire. - -He paused, and looked at her without speaking. - -“So you are going back to the Lake?” she said, everything about her -blazing with anger except her voice--that was still quiet. - -He was silent. - -“Well, why don't you answer me?” - -“What's all this fuss about, Madge? I haven't gone yet.” - -“Don't try to put me off. Have you told them you would go back?” - -“I haven't told 'em a thing. I'm going around in a minute to see the -Cap'n, and we 'll talk it over then.” - -“And you have forgotten what you promised me?” - -“No, I ain't forgot nothing. Look here, there ain't no use o' getting -stagy about this. I ain't told him I 'll do it. I don't believe I will do -it.” - -“Why should you want to, Joe? Aren't you happy here? Aren't you making -more money than you ever did on the Lake?” - -“Why, of course.” - -“Then why not stay here?” - -“There's only this about it,” he replied, leaning against the bar, and -speaking in an off-hand manner; “Stenzenberger offers me the chance to -do both. I could be in here every few days--see you most as much as I do -now in a busy season--and make the extra pay clear.” - -“Oh, that's why you have been thinking you might do it?” - -“Well, that's the only thing about it that--” He was wondering what was -in her other hand. “You see, I can't afford to get the Cap'n down on -me.” - -“You can't? I should think _he_ would be the one that couldn't afford--” - -“Now see here, Madge.” He stepped up to her, and would have slipped his -arm around her waist, but she eluded him. “I guess I 'll go over and see -what he has to offer, and then I 'll come back, and you and me can talk -it all over and see if we think--” - -“If _we_ think!” she burst out. “Do you take me for a fool, Joe McGlory? -Do you think for a minute I don't know why you want to go--and why -you mean to go? Look at that!” She produced a photograph of a pretty, -foolish young woman, and read aloud the inscription on the back, “To -Joe, from Estelle.” - -An ugly look came into his eye. “I wouldn't get excited about that -kiddishness if I was you.” - -“So you call it kiddishness, do you, and at your age?” - -“Well, so long now, Madge. I 'll be back in a few minutes.” - -“Joe--wait--don't go off like that. Tell me that don't mean anything! -Tell me you aren't ever going to see her again!” - -“Sure, there's nothing in it.” - -“And you won't see her?” - -“Why, of course I won't see her. She ain't within five hundred miles of -here. I don't know where she is.” - -“You 'll promise me that?” - -“You don't need to holler, Madge. I can hear you. Somebody's likely to -be coming in any minute, and what are they going to think?” He passed -out into the back room, and she followed him. - -“How soon will you be back, Joe?” She saw that he was putting on his -heavy jacket--heavier than was needed to step over to the lumber office. - -“Just a minute--that's all.” - -“And you won't promise them anything?” - -“Why, sure I won't. I wouldn't agree to anything before you'd had a look -at it.” - -He watched her furtively; and she stood motionless, trembling a little, -ready at the slightest signal to spring into his arms. But he reached -for his hat and went out. - -She stood there, still motionless, until his step sounded on the front -walk; then she ran upstairs and knelt by the window that overlooked the -yards. She saw him enter the office. A few moments, and the two men who -had been with Stenzenberger came out and walked away. A half-hour, -and still Joe was in there with the lumber merchant. An hour--and then -finally he appeared, glanced back at the saloon, and walked hurriedly -around the corner out of sight. And she knew that he had slipped away -from her. The photograph was still in her hand, and now she looked at it -again, scornfully, bitterly. - -A man entered the saloon below, and she did not hear him until he fell -to whistling a music-hall tune. At something familiar in the sound a -peculiar expression came over her face, and she threw the picture on the -floor and hurried down. When she entered the sample room, her eyes were -reckless. - -The man was young, with the air of the commercial traveller of the -better sort. He was seated at one of the tables, smoking a cigarette. -His name was William Beveridge, but he passed here by the name of -Bedloe. - -“Hello, Madge,” he said; “what's the matter--all alone here?” - -“Yes; Mr. Murphy's down town.” - -“And McGlory--where's he?” - -“He's out too.” - -He looked at her admiringly. Indeed, she was younger and prettier, for -the odd expression of her eyes. - -“Well, I'm in luck.” - -“Why?” she asked, coming slowly to the opposite side of the table and -leaning on the back of a chair. - -But in gazing at her he neglected to reply. “By Jove, Madge,” he broke -out, “do you know you're a beauty?” - -She flushed and shook her head. Then she slipped down into the chair, -and rested her elbows on the table. - -“You're the hardest person to forget I ever knew.” - -“I guess you have tried hard enough.” - -“No--I couldn't get round lately--I've been too busy. Anyhow, what was -the use? If I had thought I stood any show of seeing you, I would -have come or broken something. But there was always Murphy or McGlory -around.” He could not tell her his real object in coming, nor in -avoiding the two proprietors, who had watched him with suspicion from -the first. “Do you know, this is the first real chance you've ever given -me to talk to you?” - -“How did I know you wanted to?” - -“Oh, come, Madge, you know better than that. How could anybody help -wanting to? But”--he looked around--“are we all right here? Are we -likely to be disturbed?” - -“Why, no, not unless a customer comes in.” - -“Isn't there another room out back there where we can have a good talk?” - -She shook her head slowly, with her eyes fixed on his face. And he, of -course, misread the flush on her cheek, the dash of excitement in her -eyes. And her low reply, too, “We'd better stay here,” was almost a -caress. He leaned eagerly over the table, and said in a voice as low as -hers: “When are you going to let me see you? There's no use in my trying -to stay away--I couldn't ever do it. I'm sure to keep on coming until -you treat me right--or send me away. And I don't believe that would stop -me.” - -“Aren't you a little of an Irishman, Mr. Bedloe?” - -“Why?” - -She smiled, with all a woman's pleasure in conquest. “Why haven't you -told me any of these things before?” - -“How could I? Now, Madge, any minute somebody's likely to come in. I -want you to tell me--can you ever get away evenings?” - -“Of course I can, if I want to.” - -“To-morrow?” - -“Why?” - -“There's going to be a dance in the pavilion at St. Paul's Park. Do you -ride a wheel?” She nodded. - -“It's a first-rate ride over there. There's a moon now, and the roads -are fine. Have you ever been there?” - -“No.” - -“It's out on the north branch--only about a four-mile run from here. We -can start out, say, at five o'clock, and take along something to eat. -Then, if we don't feel like dancing, we can take a boat and row up the -river.” - -She rested her chin on her hands, and looked at him with a half smile. -“Do you really mean all this, Mr. Bedloe?” - -For reply, he reached over and took both her hands. “Will you go?” - -“Don't do that, please. Do you know how old I am?” - -“I don't care. What do you say?” - -“Please don't. I hear some one.” - -“No, it's a wagon. I want you to say yes.” - -“You--you know what it would mean if--if--” - -“If McGlory--Yes, I know. You're not afraid?” - -Her face hardened for an instant at this, and then, as suddenly, -softened. “No,” she said; “I'm not afraid of anything.” - -“And you 'll go?” - -She nodded. - -“Shall I come here?” - -“No, you'd better not.” - -“Where shall we meet?” - -“Oh--let me see--over just beyond the station. It's quiet there.” - -“All right. And I 'll get a lunch put up.” - -“No--it's easier for me to do that. I 'll bring something. And now -go--please.” - -He rose, and slipped around the table toward her. . - -“Don't--you _must_ go.” - -And so he went, leaving her to gaze after him with a high color. - - - - -CHAPTER III--AT THE HOUSE ON STILTS - -[Illustration: 0076] - -DICK and Henry did not go directly back, and it was mid-afternoon when -they reached the pier. As they walked down the incline from the road, -Dick's eyes strayed toward the house on stilts. The _Captain_ lay with -nose in the sand, and beside her, evidently just back from a sail, stood -Annie with two of the students who came on bright days to rent Captain -Fargo's boats. They were having a jolly time,--he could hear Annie -laughing at some sally from the taller student,--and they had no eye for -the two sailors on the pier. Once, as they walked out, Dick's hand went -up to his hat; but he was mistaken, she had not seen him. And so he -watched her until the lumber piles, on the broad outer end of the pier, -shut off the view; and Henry watched him. - -Dick hardly heard what his cousin said when they parted. He leaped down -to the deck of the _Merry Anne_, and plunged moodily into the box of -an after cabin. His men, excepting Pink Harper, who was somewhere up -forward devouring a novel, were on shore; so that there was no one -to observe him standing there by the little window gazing shoreward. -Finally, after much chatting and lingering, the two students sauntered -away. Annie turned back to make her boat fast; and Dick, in no cheerful -frame of mind, came hurrying shoreward. - -She saw him leap down from pier to sand, and gave him a wave of the -hand; then, seeing that he was heading toward her, she turned and -awaited him. - -“Come, Dick, I want you to pull the _Captain_ higher up.” - -Dick did as he was bid, without a word. And then, with a look and tone -that told her plainly what was to come next, he asked, “What are you -going to do now?” - -“I guess I 'll have to see if mother wants me. I've been sailing ever -since dinner.” - -“You haven't any time for me, then?” - -“Why, of course I have,--lots of it. But I can't see you all the while.” - -“No, I suppose you can't--not if you go sailing with those boys.” - -Annie's mischievous nature leaped at the chance this speech gave -her. “They aren't boys, Dick; Mr. Beveridge is older than most of the -students. He told me all about himself the other day.” - -“Oh, he did.” - -“Yes. He was brought up on a farm, and he has had to work his way -through school. When he first came here, he got off the train with only -just three dollars and a half in his pocket, and he didn't have any idea -where he was going to get his next dollar. I think it's pretty brave of -a man to work as hard as that for an education.” - -Dick could say nothing. Most of _his_ education had come in through his -pores. - -“I like Mr. Wilson, too.” - -“He is the other one, I suppose?” - -Dick, his eyes fixed on the sand, did not catch the mirthful glance -that was shot at him after these words. And her voice, friendly and -unconscious, told him nothing. - -“Yes, he is Mr. Beveridge's friend. They room together.” - -“Well, I hope they enjoy it.” - -“Now, Dick, what makes you so cross? When you are such a bear, it -wouldn't be any wonder if I didn't want to see you.” - -He gazed for a minute at the rippling blue lake, then broke out: “Can -you blame me for being cross? Is it my fault?” - -She looked at him with wondering eyes. - -“Why--you don't mean it is _my_ fault, Dick?” - -“Do you think it is just right to treat me this way, Annie?” - -“What way do you mean, Dick?” - -He bit his lip, then looked straight into her eyes and came out with -characteristic directness:-- - -“I don't like to think I've been making a mistake all this while, Annie. -Maybe I have never asked you right out if you would marry me. I'm not -a college fellow, and it isn't always easy for me to say things, but -I thought you knew what I meant. And I thought that you didn't mind my -meaning it.” - -She was beginning to look serious and troubled. - -“But if there is any doubt about it, I say it right now. Will you marry -me? It is what I have been working for--what I have been buying the -schooner for--and if I had thought for a minute that you weren't going -to say yes sooner or later, I should have gone plumb to the devil before -this. It isn't a laughing matter. It has been the thought of you that -has kept me straight, and--and--can't you see how it is, Annie? Haven't -you anything to say to me?” - -She looked at him. He was so big and brown; his eyes were so clear and -blue. - -“Don't let's talk about it now. You're so--impatient.” - -“Do you really think I've been impatient?” - -She could not answer this. - -“Now listen, Annie: I'm going to sail in the morning, away around to a -place called Spencer, on Lake Huron; and I could hardly get back inside -of ten or twelve days. And if I should go away without a word from -you--well, I couldn't, that's all.” - -“You don't mean--you don't want me to say before to-morrow?” - -“Yes, that's just what I mean. You haven't anything to do to-night, have -you?” - -She shook, her head without looking at him. “Well, I 'll be around after -supper, and we 'll take a walk, and you can tell me.” - -But her courage was coming back. “No, Dick, I can't.” - -“But, Annie, you don't mean--” - -“Yes, I do. Why can't you stop bothering me, and just wait. Maybe -then--some day--” - -“It's no use--I can't. If you won't tell me to-night, surely ten--or, -say, eleven--days ought to be enough. If I went off tomorrow without -even being able to look forward to it--Oh, Annie, you've got to tell -me, that's all. Let me see you to-night, and I 'll try not to bother you. -I 'll get back in eleven days, if I have to put the schooner on my back -and carry her clean across the Southern Peninsula,”--she was smiling -now; she liked his extravagant moods,--“and then you 'll tell me.” He -had her hand; he was gazing so eagerly, so breathlessly, that she could -hardly resist. “You 'll tell me then, Annie, and you 'll make me the -luckiest fellow that ever sailed out of _this_ town. Eleven days from -to-night--and I 'll come--and I 'll ask you if it is to be yes or no--and -you 'll tell me for keeps. You can promise me that much, can't you?” - -And Annie, holding out as long as she could, finally, with the slightest -possible inclination of her head, promised. - -“Where will you be this evening?” he asked, as they parted. - -“I 'll wait on the porch--about eight.” - -For the rest of the afternoon Dick sat brooding in his cabin. When, a -little after six, he saw Henry coming down the companionway, his heart -warmed. - -“Thought I'd come over and eat with you,” said his cousin. “What's the -matter here--why don't you light up?” - -Dick, by way of reply, mumbled a few words and struck a light. Henry -looked at him curiously. - -“What is it, Dick?” he asked again. - -There had been few secrets between them. So far as either knew, they -were the last two members of their family, and their intimacy, though -never expressed in words, had a deep foundation. Before the present -arrangement of Dick's work, which made it possible for them to meet -at least once in the month, they had seen little of each other; but at -every small crisis in the course of his struggle upward to the command -of a schooner, Dick had been guided by the counsel and example of the -older man. Now he spoke out his mind without hesitation. - -“Sit down, Henry. When--when I told you about what I have been -thinking--about Annie--why did you look at me as you did?” - -“How did I look?” - -“Don't dodge, Henry. The idea struck you wrong. I could see that, and I -want to know why.” - -“Well,” Henry hesitated, “I don't know that I should put it just that -way. I confess I was surprised.” - -“Haven't you seen it coming?” - -“I rather guess the trouble with me was that I have been planning out -your future without taking your feelings into account.” - -“How do you mean,--planning my future?” - -“Oh, it isn't so definite that I could answer that question offhand. -I thought I saw a future for myself, and I thought we might go it -together. But I was counting on just you and me, without any other -interests or impediments.” - -“But if I should marry--” - -“If you marry, your work will have to take a new direction. Your -interests will change completely. And before many years, you will begin -to think of quitting the Lake. It isn't the life for a family man. But -then--that's the way things go. I have no right to advise against it.” - Henry smiled, with an odd, half bitter expression. “And from what I have -seen since my eyes were opened, I don't believe it would do any good for -me to object.” - -“You are mistaken there, Henry,” the younger man replied quietly; “it -isn't going well at all. I've been pretty blue to-day.” - -“Well,” said Henry, with the same odd expression, “I don't know but what -I'm sorry for that. That future I was speaking of seems to have faded -out lately,--in fact, my plans are not going well, either. And so you -probably couldn't count on me very much anyway.” - -He paused. Pink Harper, who acted as cook occasionally when the _Anne_ -was tied up and the rest of the crew were ashore, could be heard -bustling about on deck. After a moment Henry rose, and, with an -impulsive gesture, laid his hand on Dick's shoulder. “Cheer up, Dick,” - he said. “Don't take it too hard. Try to keep hold of yourself. And look -here, my boy, we've always stepped pretty well together, and we mustn't -let any new thing come in between us--” - -“Supper's ready!” Pink called down the companionway. - -Dick was both puzzled and touched; touched by Henry's moment of -frankness, puzzled by the reasons given for his opposition to the -suggested marriage. It was not like his cousin to express positive -opinions, least of all with inadequate reasons. Dick had no notion of -leaving the Lake; he could never do so without leaving most of himself -behind. Plainly Henry did not want him married, and Dick wondered why. - -It was half-past seven, and night was settling over the Lake. Already -the pier end was fading, the masts of the two schooners were losing -their distinctness against the sky; the ripples had quieted with the -dying day-breeze, and now murmured on the sand. The early evening stars -were peeping out, looking for their mates in the water below. - -On the steps, sober now, and inclined to dreaming as she looked out into -the mystery of things, sat Annie. A shadow fell across the beach,--the -outline of a broad pair of shoulders,--and she held her breath. The -shadow lengthened; the man appeared around the corner of the house. -Then, as he came rapidly nearer, she was relieved to see that it was -Beveridge. - -He was in a cheerful frame of mind as he stepped up and sat beside her. -It was pleasant that the peculiar nature of his work should make -it advisable to cultivate the acquaintance of an attractive young -woman--such a very attractive young woman that he was beginning to -think, now and then, of taking her away with him when his work here -should be done. - -“What do you say to a row on the Lake?” he suggested, after a little. - -“I mustn't go away,” said Annie. “I promised I would be here at eight.” - -“But it's not eight yet,” Beveridge replied. “Let's walk a little -way--you can keep the house in sight, and see when he comes.” - -“Well,” doubtfully, “not far.” - -They strolled along the beach until Annie turned. “This is far enough.” - -“I don't know whether I can let your Captain come around quite so -often,” said he, as they sat down on the dry sand, in the shelter of a -clump of willows. “It won't do--he is too good looking. I should like to -know what is to become of the rest of us.” - -This amused Annie. They had both been gazing out towards the schooners, -and he had read her thoughts. He went on: “You know it's not really -fair. These sailor fellows always get the best of us. He named his -schooner after you, didn't he?” - -“Oh, no, I don't believe so.” - -“Sailors and soldiers--it's the same the world over! There's no chance -for us common fellows when they are about. Tell you what I shall have -to do--join the militia and come around in full uniform. Then maybe you -would be looking at me, too. I don't know but what I could even make you -forget him.” - -She had to laugh at this. “Maybe you could.” - -“I suppose it wouldn't do me any good to try without the uniform, would -it?” - -She tossed her head now. “So that's what you think of me--that I care -for nothing but clothes?” - -“Oh, no, it's not the clothes. His red shirt would never do it. But it's -the idea of a sailor's life--there is a sort of glitter about it--he -seems pluckier, somehow, than other men. It's the dash and the -grand-stand play that fetches it. I suppose it wouldn't be a bit of use -to tell you that you are too good for him.” - -She made no reply, and the conversation halted. Annie gazed pensively -out across the water. He watched her, and as the moments slipped away -his expression began to change; for he was still a young man, and the -witchery of the night was working within him. - -“Do you know, I'm pretty nearly mean enough to tell you some things -about Dick Smiley. I don't know but what I'm a little jealous of him.” - -She did not turn, or speak. - -“I'm afraid it is so. I would hardly talk like this if I were not. I -thought I was about girl-proof,--up to now, no one has been able to keep -my mind off my work very long at a time,--but you have been playing the -mischief with me, this last week or so. It's no use, Annie. I wouldn't -give three cents for the man that could look at you and keep his head. -And when I think of you throwing yourself away on Smiley, just because -he's good-looking and a sailor--you mustn't do it, that's all. I have -been watching you--” - -“Oh,--you have?” - -“Yes, and I think maybe I see some things about you that you don't see -yourself. I wonder if you have thought where a man like Smiley would -lead you?” She would have protested at this, but he swept on. “He can -never be anything more than he is. He has no head for business, and even -if he works hard, he can't hope to do more than own his schooner. You -see, he's not prepared for anything better; he's side-tracked. And if -you were just a pretty girl and nothing more,--just about the size of -these people around you,--I don't suppose I should say a word; I should -know you would never be happy anywhere else. Why, Annie, do you suppose -there's a girl anywhere else on the shore of Lake Michigan--on the whole -five Lakes--living among fishermen and sailors, as you do, that could -put on a dress the way you have put that one on, that could wear it the -way you're wearing it now? - -“Oh, I know the difference, and I don't like to stand by and let you -throw yourself away. You see, Annie, I haven't known you very long, but -it has been long enough to make it impossible to forget you. I haven't -any more than made my start, but I'm sure I am headed right, and if -I could tell you the chance there is ahead of me to do something big, -maybe you would understand why I believe I'm going to be able to offer -you the kind of life you ought to have--the kind you were made for. I -don't want to climb up alone. I want some one with me--some one to help -me make it. You may think this is sudden--and you would be right. -It _is_ sudden. I have felt a little important about my work, I'm -afraid, for I really have been doing well. But ever since you just -looked at me with those eyes of yours, the whole business has gone -upside down. Don't blame me for talking out this way. It's your fault -for being what you are. I expect to finish up my work here pretty soon -now, and then I 'll have to go away, and there's no telling where I 'll -be.” - -Annie was puzzled. - -“Oh, you finish so soon? It is only September now.” - -“I have to move on when the work is done, you know. I obey orders.” - -“But I thought you were a student, Mr. Beveridge?” - -He hesitated; he had said too much. Chagrined, he rose, without a word, -at her “Come, I must go back now,” and returned with her to the house. -And when they were approaching the steps, he was just angry enough with -himself to blunder again. - -“Wait, Annie. I see you don't understand me. But there is one thing you -_can_ understand. I want to go away knowing that you aren't going to -encourage Smiley any longer. You can promise me that much. I don't want -to talk against him; but I can tell you he's not the man for you; he's -not even the man you think he is. Some day I will explain it all. -Promise me that you won't.” - -But she hurried on resolutely toward the house, and there was nothing -to do but follow. “Will you take my word for it, Annie,--that you 'll do -best to let him alone?” - -She shook her head and hurried along. - -On the steps sat a gloomy figure--Dick, in his Sunday clothes, white -shirt and collar, red necktie, and all. His elbows rested on his knees, -his chin rested on his hands, and the darkness of the great black Lake -was in his soul. He watched the approaching figures without raising his -head; he saw Beveridge lift his hat and turn away toward the bank; he -let Annie come forward alone without speaking to her. - -She put one foot on the bottom step, and nodded up at him. “Here I am, -Dick. Do you want to sit here or--or walk?” - -He got up, and came slowly down to the sand. - -“So this is the way you treat me, Annie?” - -“I'm not late, am I, Dick? It can't be much after eight.” - -“So you go walking with him, when--when--” - -“Now, Dick, don't be foolish. Mr. Beveridge came around early, and -wanted me to walk, and--and I told him I couldn't stay away--” - -She was not quite her usual sprightly self; and the manner of this -speech was not convincing. Dick's reply was a subdued sound that -indicated anything but satisfaction. - -“I'm mad, Annie,--I know I'm mad--and I don't think you can blame me.” - -“I--I didn't ask you to come before eight, Dick.” - -“Oh, that was it, was it? I suppose you told him to come at seven.” - -“Now, Dick,--please--” - -But he, not daring to trust his tongue, was angry and helpless before -her. After a moment he turned away and stood looking out toward the -lights of the schooner. Finally he said, in a strange voice, “I see I've -been a fool--I thought you meant some of the things you've said--I ought -to have known better; I ought to have known you were just fooling with -me--you were just a flirt.” - -He did not look around. Even if he had, the night would have concealed -the color in her cheeks. But he heard her say, “I think perhaps--you had -better go, Dick.” - -He hesitated, then turned. - -“Good night,” she said, and ran up the steps. - -“Say--wait, Annie--” - -The door closed behind her, and Dick stood alone. He waited, thinking -she might come back, but the house was silent. He stepped back and -looked up at her little balcony with its fringe of flowers, but it was -deserted; no light appeared in the window. At last he turned away, and -tramped out to the _Merry Anne_. The men were aboard, ready for an early -start in the morning; the new mate was settling himself in the cabin. -To Dick, as he stood on the pier and looked down on the trim little -schooner, nothing appeared worth while. He leaped down to the deck, and -thought savagely that he would have made the the same leap if the deck -had not been there, if there had been fourteen feet of green water and a -berth on the scalloped sand below. But there was one good thing--nothing -could rob Dick of his sleep. And in his dreams Annie was always kind. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--THE CIRCLE MARK - -[Illustration: 0098] - -EARLY in the morning they were off. Dick, glum and reckless, took the -wheel; McGlory went up forward and looked after hoisting the jibs and -foresail. The new mate had already succeeded, by an ugly way he had, in -antagonizing most of the men; but their spirits ran high, in spite of -him, as the _Merry Anne_ slipped away from the pier and headed out into -the glory of the sunrise. - -“Hey, Peenk,” called Larsen, “geeve us 'Beelly Brown.'” And Pink, who -needed no urging, roared out promptly the following ballad, with the -whole crew shouting the spoken words:-- - - Oh, Billy Brown he loved a girl, - - And her name was Mary Rowe, O-ho! - - She lived way down - - In that wick-ed town, - - The town called She-caw-go. - - (Spoken) WHERE'S THAT? - - The place where the Clark streets grow. - - - “Oh, Mary, will you bunk with me?” - - “Say, ain't you a little slow, O-ho! - - 'Bout sailin' down - - To this wicked town - - To tell me you love me so?” - - (Spoken) GO 'LONG! - - She's givin' 'im the wink, I know. - - - Oh, the wind blowed high, an' the wind blowed strong, - - An' the Gross' Point' reef laid low, O-ho! - - An' Billy Brown - - Went down, down, down, - - To the bottom of the place below. - - (Spoken) WHERE'S MARY? - - She's married to a man named Joe. - - -“You're makin' noise enough up there,” growled McGlory. Pink, with a -rebellious glance, bent over the rope he was coiling and held his peace. - -As they started, so they sailed during four days--the Captain reckless, -the mate hard and uncommunicative, the men cowed. And at mid-morning on -the fourth day they arrived at Spencer. - -The Hydrographic Office had at that time worked wonders in charting -these Great Lakes of ours, but it had given no notice to the little -harbor that was tucked snugly away behind False Middle Island, not a -hundred miles from Mackinaw City on the Lake Huron side; merely a speck -of an island with a nameless dent behind it. But old Spencer, a lank, -hatchet-faced Yankee, had found that a small schooner could be worked in -if she headed due west, “with the double sand dune against the three -pines till you get the forked stump ranged with the ruined shanty; meet -this range and hold it till clear of the bar at the north end of the -island; circle around to port; when clear of the bar, hug the inner -shore of the island until the mill can be seen behind the trees; then -run up into the harbor. Plenty of water here.” - -This discovery had resulted in such a curious little mill as can be -found only in the back corners of the country,--a low shed with a flat -roof; one side open to the day; within, an old-fashioned vertical saw; -the whole supplied with power by a rotting, dripping, moss-covered -sluiceway. - -All about were blackened pine stumps--nothing else for a hundred miles. -And all through the forest was the sand, drifting like snow over roads -and fences, changing the shape of the land in every high wind, blowing -into hair and clothes, and adding, with the tall, endless, gray-green -mullein stalks, the final touch of desolation to a hopeless land. Here -and there, in the clearings, sand-colored farmers and their sand-colored -wives struggled to wring a livelihood from the thankless earth. Other -farmers had drifted helplessly away, leaving houses and barns to blacken -and rot and sink beneath the sand drifts, and leaving, too, rows of -graves under the stumps. - -Twenty miles down the coast, where a railroad touched, was a feeble -little settlement that was known, on the maps, as Ramsey City. - -This region had been “cut over” once; it had been burned over more -than once; and yet old Spencer, with his handful of employees and his -deliberate little mill, wore a prosperous look on his inscrutable -Yankee face. There was no inhabited house within ten miles, but he was -apparently contented. - -McGlory, it seemed, knew the channel; so Dick surrendered the wheel -when they were nearing the island, and stood at his elbow, watching the -landmarks. The mate volunteered no information, but Dick needed none; -he made out the ranges with the eye of a born sailor. But even he was -surprised when the _Merry Anne_ swung around into the landlocked harbor -and glided up to a rude wharf that was piled with lumber. Behind it was -the mill; behind that, at some distance, a comfortable house, nearly -surrounded by other smaller dwellings. - -“So this is Spencer, eh?” observed Dick. - -“This is Spencer,” McGlory replied. - -The owner himself was coming down to meet them, reading over a letter -from his friend, Stenzenberger, as he walked. His wife came out of her -kitchen and stood on her steps to see the schooner. Two or three men -in woodman's flannels were lounging about the mill, and these sat up, -renewed their quids from a common plug, and stared. - -“How are you?” nodded Spencer, pocketing the letter. He caught the line -and threw it over a snubbing post. “This Mr. - -“Smiley?” - -“That's who,” said Dick. - -“How are you, Joe?” to McGlory. - -“How are you, Mr. Spencer?” - -In a moment they were fast, and Dick had leaped ashore. He caught -Spencer's shrewd eyes taking him in, and laughed, “Well, I guess you 'll -know me next time.” - -“Guess I will.” There was a puzzled, even disturbed expression on the -lumberman's face. “I was thinking you didn't look much like your cousin. -The stuffs all ready for you there. You'd better put one of your men on -to check it up. Will you walk up and take a look around the place?” - -“Thanks--guess I 'll stay right here and hustle this stuff aboard. I'd -like to put out again after dinner.” - -Spencer drew a plug from a trousers pocket, offered it to Dick, who at -the sight of it shook his head, and helped himself to a mouthful. Then -his eyes took in the schooner, her crew, and the sky above them. “Wind's -getting easterly,” he observed. “Looks like freshening up. Mean business -getting out of here against the wind--no room for beating. You'd better -leave your mate to load and have a look at the place.” - -“Well, all right; McGlory, see to getting that stuff aboard right off, -will you? We 'll try to get out after dinner sometime.” - -When Spencer had shown his guest the mill and the houses of his men, -he led the way to his own home and seated his guest in the living room. -Here from a corner cupboard he produced a bottle and two glasses. - -“I've got a little something to offer you here, Mr. Smiley,” said he, -“that I think you 'll find drinkable. I usually keep some on hand in case -anybody comes along. I don't take much myself, but it's sociable to -have around.” Dick tossed off a glass and smacked his lips. “Well, say, -that's the real stuff.” - -“Guess there ain't no doubt about that.” - -“Where do you get it from?” - -“I bought that in Detroit last time I was down. Couldn't say what house -it's from.” - -“Oh, you get out of here now and then, do you r - -“Not often--have another?” - -“Thanks, don't care if I do.” - -“You see I've got a little schooner of my own, the _Estelle_,--named her -after my wife's sister,--and now and then I take a run down the shore to -Saginaw or Port Huron, or somewhere.” - -“Do you get much lumber out?” - -“Enough for a living.” - -“I noticed you had a mark on the end of every big stick--looked like a -groove cut in a circle--most a foot across.” - -“Yes, that's my mark.” - -“The idea being that people will know your stuff, I suppose.” - -Spencer nodded shortly. “I'm getting out the best lumber on the Great -Lakes--that's why I mark it--help yourself to that bottle--there, I 'll -just set it where you can reach it.” Dick would have stopped ordinarily -at two glasses. To-day he stopped at nothing. “Much obliged. I haven't -touched anything as strong as this for two years.” - -“Swore off?” - -“Sort of, but I don't know that I've been any better off for it. There's -nothing so good after sailing the best part of a week.” - -“You're right, there ain't. And that's the pure article there--wouldn't -hurt a babe in arms. Take another. You haven't been working for Cap'n -Stenzenberger many years, have you?” - -Throughout this conversation Spencer was studying Smiley's face. - -“No, nothing like so long as Henry.” - -“How do you get along with him?” - -“The Cap'n? Oh, all right. He's a little too smart for me, but I guess -he's square enough.” - -“Doing a good business, is he?” - -“Couldn't say. I don't know much about his business.” - -“Oh, you don't?” There was a shade of disappointment in the lumberman's -voice as he said this, but Dick, who was reaching for the bottle, failed -to observe it. - -“McGlory been with you long?” - -“No, this is his first trip.” - -“You don't say so! Wasn't he with your cousin a while back?” - -“Yes, for a year.” - -“Thought I'd seen him on the _Schmidt_. Is he a good man?” - -“Good enough.” - -“Let's see, wasn't he in with Stenzenberger once?” - -“Couldn't say.” - -“Oh, you couldn't?” - -“No. Say, I 'll have to step down and see how things are going. Here, -I 'll just have another nip out o' that bottle.” - -“Nonsense, Cap'n; sit down, sit down. I guess McGlory's competent to get -the load aboard all right. I ain't hardly begun to get acquainted with -you yet. We 'll have dinner pretty soon now, and when you've put a little -something solid inside you, we 'll go down and have a look at things. -Don't get bashful about the bottle. There's plenty more where that come -from.” - -“I don't know but what I've had all that's good for me.” - -“Pshaw! A man of your inches? Here now, here's to you!” - -They drank together, and a little later they drank again. - -When Mrs. Spencer, a tired, faded out little body, came to the door and -said, “Dinner is ready, Ed,” Dick's spirits were soaring amazingly, and -his voice had risen to a pitch slightly above the normal. Spencer nodded -toward his guest and remarked, “This is Cap'n Smiley, Josie.” - -“Glad to make your acquaintance,” exclaimed Dick, boisterously, striding -forward to shake her hand. - -“Show the Cap'n to the dining room, will you, Josie?” Spencer said. -“I 'll step out and call the boys.” - -Mrs. Spencer led the way through the short hall to the dining room, -where a table was spread for Spencer's eight or ten men (Mc-Glory and -the crew were to eat on the _Merry Anne_). Dick, stepping high, followed -her, and found himself being presented to a blond young woman with blue -eyes and an agreeable expression. “My sister Estelle, Cap'n Smiley,” - said Mrs. Spencer. - -“Glad to meet you,” said Dick, looking so hard at her as they shook -hands that she blushed and dropped her eyes. - -Mrs. Spencer slipped out to the kitchen after the introduction, leaving -them to await the men. - -“You've never been here before?” she ventured. - -“Never have. Do you live here?” - -“Yes, I've been with sister four years now.” - -“Well, say, this is a pretty lonely place for a girl like you. I 'll have -to sail around often.” - -“I guess you will.” - -“Yes, _ma'am_, you're too pretty for this corner of the woods.” - -Estelle blushed and shook her head. - -“But that's the gospel truth, sure as I'm Dick Smiley. And I can see -you're too sensible to get mad at any one for telling the truth.” - -“Oh, Captain, I'm afraid you're a flirt,” simpered Estelle. - -“Me, flirt? Never. Not on your diamond ear-rings!” - -“Sh! What would Ed think if he was to come in and hear you talking like -that?” - -Spencer, in truth, was already on the steps; in another moment he came -into the room at the head of his men. And Dick, suddenly aware that his -tongue was taking liberties with him, shut his lips tight and refused -to speak another word throughout the meal. In vain the lumberman rallied -him; in vain the men made advances; in vain Estelle, who was waiting -on table, threw him glances from behind Spencer's chair or let her hand -brush his in passing him the potatoes; from a flushed, talkative man, -Dick had turned abruptly into a silent, moody one, and he ate steadily, -with eyes for nothing but his food. - -The meal was nearly over when Spencer, looking around the table, said, -“Hello, where's Pete?” - -“He's busy,” replied one of the men, “said he'd be a little late.” - -“Well, if he likes his vittles cold, I guess it's his own funeral.” - -“There he is now, outside there.” - -At this Spencer pushed back his chair and went to the window. “Hello, -there, Pete,” he called. “Ain't you coming to dinner?” - -“Yes, be right along.” - -Dick stopped eating at the sound of the last voice, and listened, his -fork in the air, for what was coming next. Hearing nothing further, he -faced around and watched the door. A moment later in came Roche, trying -to greet the men without looking at his former captain, and sliding into -his chair with averted face. - -“Mr. Roche, don't you know Cap'n Smiley?” said Spencer. - -“Yes, yes, I know him. How are you, Cap'n?” - -“How are you, Pete? How'd you get here?” - -“Oh, I--” Roche was embarrassed. “I used to work for Mr. Spencer, and -when I left you he took me back.” - -Dick merely grunted, and went on eating. - -“Here, Estelle!” called Spencer. “Estelle, Cap'n Smiley'd like another -piece o' pie. Ain't Estelle there, Josie?” - -Mrs. Spencer appeared in the kitchen doorway. “No, she ain't here.” - -“Why, I just saw her a minute or so ago.” - -“She said it was hot in the kitchen and stepped outside. What is it you -want?” - -“Cap'n Smiley'd like some more pie.” - -“All right, I 'll get it for him.” - -Dick bolted the second helping in the silence that had enveloped him -since the meal began. Then he got up, said something about the schooner -that nobody quite understood, and left the house. - -Matters were going slowly at the wharf. - -There was still a small pile of timber, and another of shingles waiting -to be loaded. So far as Dick could see, Harper seemed to be directing -the work. - -“What are you doing there, Pink?” he demanded, in a tone that made Pink -look curiously at him before replying. - -“Loadin' up.” - -“Where's McGlory?” - -“I don't know.” - -“You _don't know!_ Well, why in------don't you know?” - -“I 'll tell you, Cap'n.” - -“Oh, you 'll tell me, will you?” - -“Yes, I will. Mr. McGlory was awful partic'lar about the first load -o' stuff that went aboard, handled most of it hisself, and made us work -slow, an' then he just naturally quit workin' and walked off without -sayin' a word, an' so I an' the boys have been tryin' to hustle it -aboard, like you said, without him.” - -“Quit workin'! What right's he got to quit workin'?” - -“I don't know, Cap'n.” - -Two of the sailors, standing near by, had been watching their captain -during this talk. - -Now one of them turned away to hide a grin. - -“What are you grinning about there?” roared Dick. - -“I wasn't grinnin', Cap'n.” - -“Oh, you wasn't. Get to work, then, and shut your mouths. You're a lot -o' loafers, that's what you are. Hustle, now!” He lent a strong hand -himself, glad to vent in work the explosives that were working in his -head; and as he worked he muttered, “So we quit workin' when we're -tired, do we?” - -Meanwhile the mate was strolling in the forest a few hundred yards away -with Estelle. He was looking closely at her, as they walked, from under -heavy eyebrows. She was flushing a very little and studying the sand at -her feet. - -“Who's been giving you that kind o' talk about me?” he was asking. - -“Why--I don't know as it was anybody especial.” - -“You didn't believe it, did you?” - -“N-no--but you see, you told me you were coming right back, and then you -didn't--and I didn't know whether I was ever going to see you again or -not. I thought--” - -“Well, what was it you thought?” - -“I thought you probably could have come if you'd wanted to!” - -“You know better than that, Estelle. The only way I could come was on -the schooner, and Cap'n Henry laid me off before the next trip. The -minute I had a chance to come up here with this man, I grabbed it. What -I'd like to know is, who is there up here that wants to tell lies about -me? What else have you heard?” - -“You--you won't be mad, Joe, if--if I tell?” - -“Course not. Here, let's sit down.” - -They found a seat in the hollow of the sand, where the undergrowth -screened them. - -“You see, Joe, I heard that you--were married.” - -He started up. “That's a lie!” - -“You said you--wouldn't get mad.” - -He dropped down again, muttering: “I ain't mad at you, Estelle, but -don't you see there's some one that's just setting out to spread these -lies. It's enough to rile a fellow. Who was it told you?” - -“I don't know--it was quite a while back--maybe it was--Josie.” - -“But she don't know anything about me. Who could 'a' told her?” - -“I don't know. You won't say anything to her, will you, Joe?” - -“No, course not. It's funny, that's all. But so long's you don't believe -it, I don't suppose I've got any cause for kicking.” - -“Of course I don't believe it--not now. Before you'd come back, and -after all you'd said about--” - -“About what, Estelle?” - -“About coming up here for me--and our going away from here--” - -“That's it,” he broke in eagerly--“that's just it. I couldn't do it then -because I didn't have the ready. But now, you see, I've got a little -put by, and there ain't nothing to hinder our clearing out o' here for -good.” - -“Isn't there, Joe?” - -“Not a thing.” - -“Oh, I'm so glad. You don't know--you don't know how sick I get of this -place, and these men around. I most die with it sometimes--feel as if -I could go away alone if I knew of any place to go. Once I thought a -little of--of just doing it anyhow, and maybe finding you in Chicago. -You've told me where your place is, you know, up on the north side.” - -“Yes, I know, but we can do it now.” - -“Now, Joe?” - -“Sure.” - -“To-day?” - -“Well--you see--I couldn't hardly do it to-day. I've got to finish my -trip.” - -“Oh--” - -“Now wait, Estelle. If I got impatient, I'd lose the trick, don't you -see. This man, Dick Smiley, is working for the man that's got to help -me. I know a way to make him back me--set me up in my own place in some -new town maybe. I couldn't leave Smiley in the lurch without getting his -boss down on me. I've got a hold on him, but he'd never stand for that. -This Smiley's a no-good lot, but I've got to stick out this trip with -him.” - -“But--then you 'll be back in Chicago.” - -“I know. I'm coming up here by train. Or say I meet you at Saginaw.” - -“You thought you could do that before.” - -“I was broke then. Now I've got the stuff. And I know how I can turn -a trick on this trip back that 'll be worth an easy five hundred to me. -That 'll take us clear down to Niagara Falls, maybe.” - -“Oh, could we go there, Joe?” - -“Sure, anywhere you say.” - -“But, how 'll I know when to start?” - -“Well, let's see. I can't be sure of getting back to Chicago, and -cleaning things up, and coming up to Saginaw inside of seven days. Call -it eight; that 'll make it--to-day's Tuesday--next week Wednesday. What -day does Spencer drive down to Ramsey?” - -“Thursdays.” - -“Then that's our day. You could get him to take you along, couldn't -you?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then you give him the slip and catch the afternoon train to Saginaw.” - -“But how could I take my things? He'd be sure to see them.” - -“Leave 'em behind. I 'll buy you what you need. Have you got any money?” - -“Not very much?” - -He sat up and drew out a handful of bills. “Here--say I give you -twenty-five. That 'll see you through, won't it?” - -“Oh, yes, Joe.” - -She was decidedly pretty now. Her weak face was alive with eagerness, -her eyes were dancing. And McGlory, as he looked at her, seemed to feel -something approaching a thrill. - -There they sat, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, until the brush parted -and Dick stood over them. - -“Well, Mr. Man,” said he, “I hope you're passing a pleasant afternoon -with your friend.” - -Estelle got to her feet first. - -“We thought maybe you'd spend a few minutes with us to-day,” continued -Dick. “You see we can't stay very long.” - -“Who're you talking to?” growled the mate. - -“I'm a-looking right at you.” - -It was an awkward moment for McGlory. He felt that it was downright -necessary to show his superiority, for it is only by such a show -that women like Estelle are kept constant. On the other hand, even he -understood the danger of openly defying his captain. But the seconds -were flying. - -“You go back to your schooner, Dick Smiley. You ain't boss here.” - -“Well, by--” Dick checked himself, with a half bow toward Estelle. “I -beg your pardon, my dear. Your friend kind o' surprised me.” - -McGlory flashed a suspicious glance at her. - -“None o' your jaw now, Smiley. You can do your talking when it's time to -sail. You 'll have to shut up here.” - -“Maybe you 'll be good enough to tell me when you 'll be ready to start,” - suggested Dick, with extravagant politeness. - -McGlory rumbled an unintelligible reply; and Dick turned again to -Estelle. “Will you excuse him, my dear. You see he's got a previous -engagement with me. But you couldn't hardly blame him for forgetting, -with such a lady friend to talk to.” - -“Look here,” McGlory broke out; “you've said enough. You go back to your -schooner where you belong!” - -“Thanks, I'm going. We're all going. You 'll come with us, my dear?” - -Estelle, who was plunged in confusion, said nothing, but fell in with -him. And McGlory, fuming, had to follow. - -The east wind was freshening; the sky was darker. Spencer, who stood -awaiting them on the wharf, shook his head at Dick. “You aren't going to -start now, are you, Cap'n?” - -“Sure we are.” - -“It's mean business with an east wind. But still McGlory knows the -channel.” - -“McGlory be----!” said Dick, throwing off his ceremonial manner now that -Estelle had escaped to the house. “I'd take her through hell for fifty -cents. Just watch my smoke.” Spencer said nothing further. The mate was -ordered up forward; the lines were cast off; Dick took the wheel. And -out they went, with a reckless daring that made Spencer and Pink Harper -smile from different motives. - -“He's going to butt a hole clean through Middle Island,” muttered the -lumberman. But before the words were out, the Merry Anne swung cheerily -about and went skimming along the channel bank. Soon she rounded the -island in safety and disappeared. - -Not until they were fairly out on Lake Huron did Dick call his mate. -Then he gave up the wheel without a word and stumbled down into the -cabin. His high spirits had given place to weariness and depression; -and, dropping down for a moment on his bunk, he fell asleep. - -On deck McGlory, with an expression of smouldering anger, stood at the -wheel, glancing now at the sails, now at the water, now at the receding -shore. If his eyes could have penetrated the bluffs and the forest, he -would not have been happier. For Estelle, who seemed to be the victim of -her emotions today, was listening to some earnest talk from a boastful -fellow named Roche. - - - - -CHAPTER V--BURNT COVE - - -[Illustration: 0124] - -DURING the rest of the afternoon, during the evening, on into the -night, Dick's hearty snoring floated up the companionway. At supper-time -McGlory called Ole Larsen to the wheel, and went below. The Swede looked -after him and observed that he took the steps slowly and cautiously, -and was more quiet than usual in the cabin. From the mate his attention -turned to the binnacle. His instructions were to hold the course, -nor'east, pointing into the wind with the sheets hauled close. -Ordinarily he would not have taken the trouble to question any orders -that might have been given him, but the dislike and distrust all the -crew felt for their new mate was stirring in his mind. He took occasion, -when Harper came aft about some work, to beckon him and point to the -compass. - -“Aye tank we don' go at Mackinaw, no,” he said in a half whisper. - -“Is that the course he gave you?” - -“Ya-as, dat's her.” - -“I was thinkin' myself it was funny. Near's I can figure, we're pointin' -for Manitoulin Island. Now what in thunder--Look here, Ole--first chance -I get I'm goin' to wake the Cap'n.” - -“Aye tank we do dat, ya-as.” - -They had dropped their voices, but Mc-Glory had heard them. He now -came tiptoeing up the companion steps, wearing an ugly scowl. “Go up -forward,” he commanded, addressing Harper. - -“I was just askin' about the course, Mr. McGlory. It didn't quite seem -to me--” - -“Go up forward!” - -Pink hesitated, then he raised his voice. “Cap'n Smiley generally likes -me to wake him when he's slept as long's this.” - -“Go up forward.” - -“Well--” - -He was starting, but he moved too slowly. McGlory's temper gave way, and -he struck him, with the back of his hand, across the face. - -“You hit _me!_” The blood rushed into Harper's face; he drew himself up, -his fists contracting, the muscles of his bare forearms knotting. Ole -gazed impassively at the compass, but his fingers were twitching on the -spokes of the wheel; he saw from the expression of Harper's eyes that -the boy needed no assistance. For one tense moment, as they stood -there on the sloping deck, a faint light shining on them from the open -companionway, anything seemed possible. Had Mc-Glory been a coward he -would have retreated from the blazing figure before him; but he was not -a coward. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, gripped Harper's -arm, and whirled him around. “Go up forward!” he said for the fourth -time. And Pink, swallowing hard, went. - -A gentle sigh escaped the wheelsman. The mate turned on him; but Ole was -gazing out into the dark with an expressionless face. Into the silence -that followed came a gurgling snore from the cabin; if Pink had hoped to -wake the captain, he had failed. And the end of this brief incident was -that McGlory returned below and finished his supper, while the _Merry -Anne_ continued to point nor'east. - -Towards eleven o'clock the moon rose and showed Duck Island six miles -off the port bow. McGlory was again at the wheel. He now brought her up -still closer to the wind, heading a few points off Outer Duck Island and -skimming the lower edge of Jennie Graham Shoal. Huddled up in the bow, -out of the mate's view, Harper and Larsen were watching out ahead, -pulling at their pipes and occasionally exchanging a whispered word or -two. Linding, the third sailor, lay flat on the deck by the windlass, -his head pillowed on a coil of rope, the regular sound of his breathing -telling that he was asleep. Soon Ole's practised eyes made out a bit of -land far off to port, and he pointed it out to his companion. - -“What is it?” - -“Meedle Duck Island, ya-as.” - -A few minutes more and they saw a line of coast dead ahead. - -“Manitoulin Island?” whispered Pink. - -“Aye tank.” - -On they went until the shore lay plainly before them in the -moonlight,--on until the breeze began to fail them, so close were they -in the shelter of the land. Finally they heard McGlory say in a guarded -voice, “Ready about, up there!” and they sprang to their places. - -It proved a short tack. Hardly a quarter of an hour later, when the land -had faded but a little way into the indistinct night, they came about -again. This time they ran in so directly for the land that Pink grew -nervous. He stood up, pipe in hand, looking back at the mate, then -forward at the shore. The breeze fell away, but they drifted on through -a mirror of shapes and shadows. The trees of the bank loomed before -them, then, it seemed, around them. - -Still the _Merry Anne_ drifted on, her wheelsman turning every stray -breath to advantage. She was in a cove now, though how wide it was or -how far it extended the sailors could not tell, so strangely were the -bluffs and the trees reflected in the water. Drifting, however, is lazy -work, and Harper sat down to it and relighted his pipe, At length the -schooner came lazily up into the wind and McGlory ordered the anchor -overboard. Here was a chance to try to wake the Captain, and the -chance was seized; but even the dank and rattle of the chain failed to -interrupt the snoring in the cabin. - -“Linding,” said McGlory, “come back here.” - -Larsen and Harper looked at each other,--they had not told -Linding,--then between them they woke him and sent him aft. - -Without a word the mate motioned the sailor to help him lower the boat -over the stern. - -“He's goin' ashore,” whispered Harper. Ole nodded. “He's beckonin' for -us--say, Ole, shall we go?” - -But the Swede started promptly aft. The habit of obedience is so strong -in a well-dis-posed sailor that only great provocation will overthrow -it. With but a moment's hesitation, Harper followed. - -“Climb down there,” said the mate; “and mind you're quiet about it.” - -Down they went; McGlory came after and took the rudder; and, propelled -by two pairs of oars, the boat slipped away, crossed a patch of -moonlight, and entered the mysterious region of shadows. - -“Way enough--easy now!” - -They literally could not distinguish the shore--it was all distorted, -unnatural. They dragged the oars in the water and looked over their -shoulders. Linding was in the bow with a long boat-hook ready in his -hands. Then they found themselves floating quietly alongside a narrow -landing pier, and it was necessary to tumble in the oars in a hurry. - -Linding checked the boat's headway, the others reached out and caught -the planking with their hands; and McGlory stepped out. - -“Make her fast,” he said, “and come ashore.” - -They obeyed. - -“Now, boys,”--he seemed of a sudden to be making an attempt at -good-nature,--“I want you to wait here for me. I 'll be back in five -minutes.” And walking along a path that mounted the bluff, he left them -standing there. - -For a few moments they were silent. Then Harper spoke up: “Look here -fellows, I don't know how it strikes you, but I'm hanged if I like this -way o' doin' business. What we'd better do is to pull right back an' -wake the Cap'n.” - -“Meester McGlory, she haf geef us orders, ya-as?” - -“What's that got to do with it?” - -But the two Swedes shook their heads. They were slow of body and mind; -the idea of rowing off without the mate was too daring. “You won't do -it, then?” - -They looked at each other. - -“All right,” said Harper, pulling off his coat, “all right. Have it your -way. But I'm goin' back, an' I'm goin' now.” He tossed his coat into the -boat, pulled off his boots and threw them after, let himself down into -the water, waded a few steps, and struck out for the schooner. It was -but a little way. He swam around to the stern, and drew himself up by -the boat tackle, which had been left hanging down close to the water. -Rushing down into the cabin, where a single lantern burned dimly, he -bent over the Captain, who lay dressed in his bunk, and shook him. - -“Wake up, Cap'n, wake up!” - -“Lemme be, will you?” - -“Wake up! It's me--Harper.” - -“I don't care if it is. You needn't drown me.” - -“But, Cap'n!” - -“Well, what's the row?” Slowly Dick raised his head and looked around. -“Good Lord! What time is it?” - -“Twelve o'clock.” - -“Twelve o'clock _what!_” - -“Midnight.” - -“Midnight your gran'ma!” - -“But it is. Mr. McGlory, he--” - -“Just let go o' me, will you? Go over there and drip on the steps.” Dick -was slowly swinging his feet around and sitting up. “You've soaked my -bedding now. What's the matter with you anyhow? Been trying to swim -home?” - -“No, Cap'n, but Ole says we're up at--” - -“See here, why haven't I been waked up?” - -“Mr. McGlory wouldn't let me wake you.” - -“Wouldn't let you?” - -“No, he--” - -“What's the matter with your lip?” - -“McGlory hit me.” - -“Hit you!” Dick sprang to his feet. “What in thunder are you talking -about?” - -“I'm tryin' to tell you, Cap'n, if you 'll just listen--” - -“Go on, be quick about it.” - -“You've been sleepin' ever since we left Middle Island. Ole an' me we -seen that the course was nor'east instead o' nor'west, an' I was goin' -to wake you, but he wouldn't let me, an' I hollered loud but it -didn't wake you, an' now we're in a place Ole thinks is Burnt Cove on -Manitoulin Island, an'--an' Mr. McGlory's made me row him ashore, an' -told us to wait there for him, an' I swum back to wake you--” - -Dick was standing close to Harper, staring at him with a mixture of -astonishment and incredulity. Now he brushed him aside and ran up the -steps. Sure enough, on every side were trees and the shadows of trees. -The Lake was not to be seen. He turned again to Harper who was close at -his elbow. “Where's the boat?” - -“Right over there--not a hundred yards.” - -“Ole!” called Dick. - -“Ya-as.” - -“Bring that boat back and hustle about it.” - -In a moment they heard the clanking of oars, and soon the boat appeared -in the moonlight and ran alongside. - -“What are you doing there?” said Dick. - -“Mees' McGlory, she say to wait.” - -“Oh, she does, does she! Well, we 'll see about it.” He leaped down to -the boat and took the stern. “Pull ashore.” - -“Cap'n,” said Harper, “will you let me go?” - -“Sure, if you want to. Take Linding's place. Linding, you stay on the -schooner. And mind, there's nobody but me giving orders around here. -Pull away, boys.” - -The landing pier was deserted when they ran alongside. “Which way did he -go?” asked Dick, as he stepped out. - -Harper pointed at the dim path. - -“How long ago was it?” - -“Just a few minutes.” - -“All right. We 'll wait here.” He sat down with his back against a post, -and filled his pipe. “Got a match, Pink? Oh, I forgot, you're wet. Ole, -give me a match.” He lighted up and settled back to smoke and think. - -McGlory had evidently walked some little distance back from the Cove, -for nearly ten minutes passed before they heard his step in the brush. -Dick sat still until he saw the mate coming down the bluff, then he -said, “Get aboard, McGlory.” - -At the first word McGlory stopped short. - -“Well,” Dick added, rising, “how long are you going to keep us waiting?” - -Still there was no word from the motionless figure. Not until Dick -stepped to the stern of the boat did he speak. “Come up here a minute, -will you, Cap'n? I want to speak to you.” - -“You can do any speaking you have to do on the schooner. Swing around, -Pink. I 'll hold her.” - -“Just a minute, Cap'n, you know what I mean.” - -“All I know about you is that you can't be trusted.” - -“Seems to me you're gettin' mighty innocent all to once.” - -“You can have your choice, McGlory, of getting aboard or staying behind. -For my part, I'd a heap sight rather leave you behind.” - -“You needn't talk that way. I know what I'm doin'--I know I'm not to -talk to you--” - -“All right, Pink,”--Dick stepped into the boat,--“let her go.” - -McGlory turned and looked back up the path, as if listening. Then -suddenly he ran out on the landing and got aboard just as the men were -pushing off. He took the bow thwart, and settled down without a word. -When they reached the schooner, he got out the boat-hook, and held her -steady while Dick climbed out. - -“That 'll do there,” said Dick, when McGlory and Larsen were hoisting -the boat up to the davits. “Let her down again. Pink, you'd better take -Linding and sound the channel ahead of us. We 'll start right out.” - -“That ain't necessary,” put in the mate, hurriedly; “I can take her -out.” - -Dick turned and looked him over sharply. “How do I know you wouldn't run -her aground? You seem to be raising the devil generally.” - -“I ain't a fool,” replied the mate, with an impatient gesture. - -“I'd feel a little safer if you were. Well, all right, Pink, make her -fast. We 'll let him try it.” - -McGlory took the wheel, and Dick sat by him on the cabin trunk. They -went out as they had come in, gaining a rod here and a yard there, as -the vagrant night breezes stirred the trees and faintly rippled the -water. Up forward the men settled down as quietly as if working out of -Burnt Cove after midnight were a part of the daily routine. Dick smoked -in silence. The mate alone was nervous. For some reason he seemed -as anxious now to get out of the Cove as he had been to get into it. -Occasionally his eyes wandered back toward the darker spot where the -landing was. Once he seemed to hear something,--they were then in sight -of the open lake,--and he swung her off quickly to gain headway. Finally -Dick asked:-- - -“Got another o' your lady friends stowed away up here?” - -The mate grunted. - -“Maybe you thought you'd just drop around for a little call. That the -idea?” - -“No, that ain't the idea.” - -“I didn't know you were a Mormon.” - -Another grunt. - -“Case o' temporary mental aberration, perhaps. You thought you owned the -schooner. Or maybe you dreamed I was going to give it to you--not for -its intrinsic value, but as a token of affection _and_ esteem. That it?” - -“No, that ain't it, an' you know it ain't.” - -“Oh, I'm in the secret, am I?” - -McGlory leaned across the wheel and looked at him. “Are you a-tryin' to -make me think you don't know why I come here?” - -“I certainly am.” - -“Well, you beat me.” - -“Then we're in the same condition. It isn't exactly usual, you know, to -take another man's schooner off for a summer cruise without asking him -if he don't mind. Of course, between friends, it's all right---only -there are some little formalities that are customary. But I suppose you -aren't going to tell me anything about it--why you did it.” - -The mate said nothing. They were now slipping out into deep water, where -the breeze could fill the sails, and the schooner began to heel and to -nose through the ripples with a grateful sound. The light was stronger -out here, and the mate could see the Captain's face more plainly. What -he saw there answered several questions that lay, unspoken, in his mind. - -“I 'll take the wheel now,” said Dick. “Hold on, don't you go forward. -Wait here till I get through with you.” He raised his voice and called -to the others. “Come back here, boys, all o' you.” And when the crew -was grouped about the wheel: “Pink, here, is going to be my mate for -the rest o' this trip. I want you to take his orders the same as if -they were mine. McGlory has nothing more to say on this schooner. That's -all.” - -The men looked at each other. The Swedes were slow to grasp what was -said. McGlory stood back in the shadow, and his face told nothing. -Harper was excited. - -“That's all, I tell you. You can go back.” - -They went at this--all but Pink, who lingered. “Cap'n--” - -“Well, what is it?” - -“I was just goin' to say--it's more'n square--you've been more'n white -to me--” - -“Hold on there. You needn't bother about engrossing any resolutions. -You 'll find it hard enough.” - -“Well--I'm mighty obliged for--” - -“Not at all.” - -Thirty-six hours later, when the Merry Anne was slipping through the -islands west of the straits and heading southward for the run down Lake -Michigan, McGlory slipped aft and addressed Harper, who had the wheel. -“I was sort o' hasty awhile ago, Pink, when I hit you that time. I hope -you ain't a-layin' it up against me.” - -Pink stared at him, but offered no reply. - -“I was a little excited. You see, Cap'n Smiley's a good sailor, but he -don't know where his own interest is.” - -“I ain't got nothin' to say to you about Cap'n Smiley.” - -“I know. Say, you ain't got no objections to turnin' an honest penny, -have you? - -“That depends.” - -“Or say maybe it was a neat little five hundred--good hard stuff.” - -“Where's it cornin' from?” - -“You know where we was--over in Canada?” - -“I ought to.” - -“Well, Smiley knows all about that.” - -“The---------he does!” - -“Sure thing. He's been there before, more'n once.” - -“Funny he didn't know the channel then. There ain't a place around the -Lakes he couldn't sail the _Anne_ through if he'd smelled it once.” - -“I know. That's the queer part of it. He knows it with his eyes shut. He -had some reason or other for puttin' up the bluff he did, an' I'd give -just about ten round dollars to know what it was.” - -“Better ask him.” - -“Watch me. This ain't the kind o' thing you can talk out about. I know -he knows, an' he knows I know; but he's down on me an' there's nothin' I -can say--here, anyway.” - -“What do you want o' me?” - -“You're the right sort--you've got nerve an' a head on you. Help me -carry this business through, an' I 'll divvy up with you--five hundred, -sure, to start with.” - -“What am I to do?” - -“Nothin' hard. You've got a good stand in with Smiley. Just put in a -word for me, so's he won't fire me before another trip, anyway. You -fellows made a mistake this time in not standin' by me. I can do better -by you than he can--a lot better. Help me to stay aboard for the next -trip, an' I 'll hand you fifty right now for a sweetener.” - -“Well, I 'll see what I can do.” - -“I've got the fifty down below. I 'll get it.” - -“Hold on--don't be in a hurry. You'd better see what I can do for you -before you do any sweetenin'.” - -McGlory nodded and slipped back to his station. When the watch was -changed, he went below and settled down to writing a letter on crumpled -paper with a pencil. He seemed to be thinking hard. Three times he made -a start, only to hold the paper up to the lantern, shake his head over -it, tear it up, and stuff the pieces into his pocket. But the fourth -attempt, which follows, suited him better. - -“Dear Estelle: I ain't done the trick I was going to do this trip. The -Captain woke up too soon and stoped me. But I've got a fellow here on -bord that's going to see me threw next trip so don't you go down to -Saginaw yet. Wait til you see me at Spencer's and Ile tell you al about -the scheme itll be worth a thousand cool anyway I should say its worth -waiting for. I'm doing it for you you know so don't you get impatent but -just wait a litle longer and we 'll have a gay old time. - -“Joe.” - -When he gave the wheel to Dick, Harper repeated to him the whole -conversation and asked him what he made of it. - -“Give it up.” - -“You don't think he's layin' for you, do you? I couldn't tell what he -was up to. Of course he wouldn't hardly let me see into his game the -first time we talked.” - -“Oh, no,--hardly.” - -“Will I go on lettin' him talk to me?” - -“If you see any fun in it.” - -“It ain't that--I thought maybe we could find out what he's after.” - -“I don't want to know about it.” - -“But you don't think he 'll try to--stick it into you anyway?” - -“Let him try. He can't do much harm.” - -“Well--” - -“Take my advice, Pink, and quit thinking about him. I don't like this -business any more than you do, but the worse it is the less I want to -know about it. When we get back we 'll fire him, and that will end it.” - -“Don't you think we'd better tie him up, or somethin'?” - -“That wouldn't do any good. You'd better tumble below and get some -sleep. There's nothing like it when you're a little worked up.” - -Dick had indeed something else to think of than his rascal of a mate. -Only four days of sailing, if the wind should hold, lay between the -_Merry Anne_ and the Annie for whom she had been named. These days would -slip away before he knew it, and then? The uncertainty was hard, but -still he dreaded the meeting--that might be harder still. - -Off Waukegan on the last day the wind swung around to the south, nearly -dead ahead; and as the schooner lost headway and was forced into beating -to windward, the dread suddenly gave place to impatience. So variable -were his thoughts indeed, as the miles slipped astern and the long -green bluff that ends in Grosse Pointe grew nearer and plainer, that his -courage oozed away. - -Far down the Lake, between the Lake View crib and the horizon, was a -speck of a sail. Dick's heart sank--he knew as if he could make out the -painted name that it was the _Captain_. He watched it hungrily as the -_Merry Anne_, headed in close to the waterworks pier, swept easily -around, and started on the last outward tack. Then he called to Pink, -and had the sheets hauled close; and he laughed softly and nervously as -the schooner responded with a list to port and a merry little fling -of spray. He could at least come in with a rush, with all his colors -flying. - -He was waiting for the tiny sail to swing around and point northward. -He was disappointed. He reached for the glass and took a long look--then -lowered it, and smiled bitterly. There were two figures seated in the -stern of the _Captain_. - -The _Schmidt_ was lying on the south side of the pier; and the wind -enabled Dick to come easily up on the opposite side and make fast. It -was late in the afternoon, and Dick released the two Swedes, both of -whom had families on shore. Then he crossed the pier, between the high -piles of lumber, and found Henry sitting quietly, as usual, in his -cabin. - -To the older man's greeting Dick responded moodily. “I want to talk to -you, Henry. What's my reputation, anyhow, among the boys? Do they call -me mean, or a driver, or hard to get along with?” - -Henry looked at him curiously, and shook his head. “I never heard -anything of that sort. Your row with Roche was the only thing, and I -guess he was a poor stick.” - -“Well, I'm through with McGlory, too.” - -“Through with him?” Henry was startled. “You haven't discharged him?” - -“No, but I'm going to to-night. I've brought him back here, and he wants -to stay, but I won't have him aboard another minute.” - -“What's the trouble?” - -Dick gave him the whole story, including the conversation between -McGlory and Harper up in the straits. - -“I don't like the sound of it very well,” said Henry, when he had -finished. “Couldn't you get on with him a little longer?” - -“After that?” - -“I know--there is some deviltry behind it. But still he is a good man. -You 'll have hard work finding a better. And honest, I would kind of hate -to face Cap'n Stenzenberger myself with this story.” - -“Why? I can't have a man around that's going to steal my schooner in my -sleep.” - -“Oh, well, he could never do that again. I can't see what he was -thinking of. Do you see into it at all?” - -Dick had been staring at the cabin table. At this question he raised his -eyes, for an instant, with an odd expression. “I know all I want to. -The whole thing is so outrageous that I am not going to try to follow it -up.” - -“He talked to your man about a rake-off, didn't he?” - -Dick nodded. - -“What do you suppose he was going to rake?” - -Dick, whose eyes were lowered, and who was therefore unconscious of the -pallor of his cousin's face, said nothing. - -“I know we don't look at some things quite the same, Dick,” Henry went -on. “But if anybody on _my_ schooner is going to do any raking, he has -got to see me first. A dollar's a dollar, my boy. When you are my age, -you will think so too.” - -“I don't mix in this business.” - -“No more would I. But it seems to me, if McGlory's got some way of his -own of making a little pile, and if you could have your share for just -letting him stay aboard, you'd be sort of a fool not to do it.” - -“Excuse _me!_” - -Henry smiled indulgently. “There's nothing very bad in what you have -told me. Of course, if there are things you _haven'_t told me, it might -make a difference.” - -“You have the whole story.” - -“Do you know, Dick, you make me think of the folks up at the college -here. You know that brewer that died repentant and left five hundred -thousand dollars to the Biblical School? Well, a lot of the old -preachers got stirred up over it and made them refuse the money-- -made 'em refuse five hundred thousand cash! Good Lord! if these -particular folks would look into the private history of all the dollars -in the country, they'd never touch one of them,--not one. There isn't a -dollar of the lot that hasn't got a bad spot somewhere, like the rest -of us. The main thing is, are your own hands clean when you take it? If -they are, the dollar can't hurt you.” - -“But look here, Henry, my mind's made up about this. I won't have that -fellow on my schooner.” - -“Going to turn him off to-night?” - -“Yes, right now.” - -“All right. You can send him over here. I 'll give him a bunk till -morning. But what are you going to do for a mate?” - -“Pink is all right. I could go farther and do worse.” - -“All right. Tell Joe to bring his things along.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI--THE RED SEAL LABEL - - -[Illustration: 0152] - -IT was on Friday morning that the _Merry Anne_ had sailed away from -Lakeville for her first trip to Spencer's. On this same Friday another -set of persons were passing through a series of events which concern -this story. - -Dick had sailed out at daybreak. A few hours later, when the morning -was still young, Roche, who had come down by train from Manistee, was -hanging about near “The Teamster's Friend.” now standing on the corner -by the lumber office looking stealthily up and down the street, now -passing by on the opposite sidewalk, closely watching the screened -windows. Finally he crossed over and entered the saloon to ask for -McGlory. Murphy, the senior partner in the business, who lived a -few blocks away, came in for his day's work and found Roche there. -“McGlory,” said Murphy, “won't be back for a week or so.” At this, with -an angry exclamation, Roche went out. The quantity of bad whiskey he had -taken in since his discharge from the _Merry Anne_ at the Manistee pier, -had not worked to change his humor or to calm his faculties. He was -plunging around the lumber office into a side street when Beveridge, who -had been watching his every movement, accosted him. - -“Beg pardon, have you got a match?” - -“Hey? What's that?” - -“Have you got a match?” - -“A match? Why, sure.” - -“Much obliged. I've got the cigars. Better make a fair trade. You 'll -find 'em a good smoke.” - -“Well, don't care 'f I do. Here, you can't light in this wind.” - -“Oh, yes, I'm Irish. Say, haven't I seen you somewhere?” - -“Couldn't say.” - -“Why, sure I have. Isn't your name Roche?” - -“That's what it is.” - -“And you're mate of the _Merry Anne_, sailing out of Lakeville?” - -“You're wrong there.” - -“No, I'm sure of it. I've seen you too many times.” - -“Why, do you b'long out there?” - -“Yes, I live at Lakeville.” - -“Well, look here; I 'll tell you how it is. I was on the _Merry Anne_, -but I ain't any more.” - -“Oh, you quit Smiley?” - -“You're right, I quit him. No more Smiley for me.” - -“What's the trouble?” - -“What _ain't_ the trouble, you'd better say. But I ain't tellin'. -Smiley's done me dirt, an' I know 'im for just what he is, but I ain't -tellin'.” - -They were passing another saloon, and Roche accepted an invitation to -step in. - -“I've seen Smiley a good deal around the piers,” said the young fellow, -when they were seated. “Likes to swagger some, doesn't he?” - -“Oh, he's no good.” - -“Mean to work for? Those conceited fellows generally are.” - -“He's mean, yes. But that ain't the worst thing about him.” Roche paused -guardedly, and glanced around the empty room. - -“I don't know much about him myself, just seen him now and then. But of -course I've heard things. - -“I 'll tell you right here, you arn't the only one that 'll be hearin' -things before much longer.” Another cautious glance around. “You don't -happen to know anythin' about law, do you?” - -“I've studied it some.” - -“Well, look here. I know some things about Dick Smiley, and if it was -worth my while, I'd tell 'em. But you see, I am an honest man, an' I've -got my livin' to make, an' he's just cute enough to lie about me an' try -to drag me down with 'im. Folks might say I didn't quit him the first -minute I found 'im out. I can't run no risks, you see.” - -“I can tell you this much--but, of course, it's none of my business.” - -“Go on.” - -“Well, it depends on the case. But if he has done anything serious, -and if the authorities find it hard to get evidence against him, you -probably wouldn't have any trouble, even if you were right in with him. -A man can turn state's evidence, you know.” - -“But I wasn't in with 'im. When I'd found him out, I quit him--the first -good chance I got.” - -“Yes, of course. But it all depends. I couldn't tell you anything more, -because I don't know the case. It all depends on how bad they want him.” - -“They want him bad enough.” He dropped his voice, and leaned across the -table. “Did you ever hear o' Whiskey Jim?” - -“You don't mean to say--” - -Roche nodded. - -“Why, man, you're rich.” - -“How do you make that out?” - -“Haven't you seen the papers?” - -Roche shook his head. - -“There's a reward of five thousand up for Whiskey Jim.” - -“Who 'll give it?” - -“The Consolidated Dealers. You see, there has been a counterfeit label, -of the Red Seal brand, on the market; and I understand the liquor men -have been running it down and putting the Treasury Agents on the track -to protect their business.” - -“Fi' thousand, eh? An' do you think we could make it?” - -“If you have the evidence to convict this Whiskey Jim, we can. But now, -before we go into this, what sort of an arrangement will you make with -me if I steer it through for you?” - -“What would you want?” - -“Well--I should go at it something like this. I should go to the United -States Treasury officials and tell them I could get them the evidence -they want if they would agree not to prosecute us. It would take some -managing, but it can be done. But I can't do it for nothing.” - -“What do you want?” - -“Say one thousand. That's twenty per cent.” - -“Too much.” - -“Not for the work to be done. Remember, I agree to get you off without -any more trouble than just giving in your evidence.” - -“But I don't need to get off. I ain't done nothin'.” - -“No, I understand. Of course not.” - -“Say five hundred, and it's a go.” - -“No, sir. I can't do it for that. I might take seven hundred and fifty, -but--” - -“It's too much, a--------sight too much. You'd ought to do it for less.” - -“Couldn't think of it.” - -“Well--” - -“Is it a go?” - -“I suppose so.” - -“All right. That's understood. If I can get the five thousand for you, -you will hand me seven hundred and fifty. Now, I suppose the sooner we -get at this, the better for both of us. When can I see you and talk it -over?” - -“You might come around this afternoon.” - -“Say two o'clock?” - -“That's all right.” - -“Where do you live?” - -“I'm stoppin' over on North Clark. Forty-two-seventy-two an' a half, -third floor. You 'll be around, then, will you, Mr.--Mr.--” - -“Bedloe's my name. Yes, I 'll be there at two sharp.” - -But at two o'clock, when Beveridge called at the boarding-house on North -Clark Street he found that Roche was gone. “He only stopped here a day,” - said the landlady. “This noon he paid me and said he was called out of -town by a telegram.” - -“Did he say when he would be back?” - -“He didn't know.” - -“Did he leave his things?” - -“No. What little he had he took along.” Beveridge turned thoughtfully -away and walked around the corner, where Wilson was awaiting him. He had -no means of knowing that Roche was already well on the way to Spencer, -where Smiley saw him a few days later. - -“Not there, Bill?” asked Wilson. - -“No,--skipped.” - -“Lost his nerve, eh?” - -“I guess so.” - -“Well, what now?” - -“Nothing, until I see Madge to-night.” - -“Do you really expect anything there?” - -“I don't know. It's a chance, that's all.” - -“Do you think she 'll keep her promise?” - -“Couldn't say. I 'll give her a chance, anyhow.” - -She did keep it. Very shortly after five, while Beveridge was riding -slowly up and down near the meeting-place, he saw her coming, and his -eyes lighted up with surprise. He could not know how much thought had -been given to the effect which pleased him so; he only observed that she -looked like a young girl in her short wheeling skirt and leggings, and -with her natty little cap and well-arranged hair. - -They found St. Paul's Park gay with lights and music when they arrived. -Dancing had been going on all the afternoon on the open-air -platform. The ring-the-cane booth, the -every-time-you-knock-the-baby-down-you-get-a-five-cent-cigar booth, were -surrounded by uproarious country folk, with only here and there a city -face among them. A little way down the slope, through the grove, ran the -sluggish North Branch, a really inviting spot in the twilight; and to -this spot it was that Beveridge led the way after checking the wheels. - -“The boats don't amount to much,” he said to Madge, as he helped her -down the bank, “but I guess we can have a good time, anyhow.” - -She did not reply to this, but there was a sparkle in her eyes and a -flush on her cheek, as she stepped lightly into the boat, that drew an -admiring glance from Beveridge. - -He took the clumsy oars, and pulled upstream, under the railroad bridge, -past all the other boats, on into the farming country, where the banks -were green and shaded. - -“Pretty nice, isn't it?” said he. - -She nodded. They could hear the music in the distance, and occasionally -the voices; but around them was nothing but the cool depths of an oak -copse. She was half reclining in the stern, looking lazily at the dim -muscular outlines of her oarsman. “You row well,” she said. - -“I ought to. I was brought up on water.” - -“You don't know how this takes me back,” said Madge, dreamily. “I -couldn't tell you how long it is since I have been out in the country -like this.” - -He pulled a few strokes before replying, “Didn't McGlory ever take you -out?” - -“I don't like to think about him now. Let's talk of something else.” - -“I'm glad you don't like to. That's the only thing that bothers me.” - -“What--Joe?” - -“Yes.” - -“Oh, he needn't bother you.” - -“I can't help it. You see, you're--” - -“His wife? Yes, so I am. But I'm--” - -“What, Madge?” - -“I don't know what you would think if I said it.” - -“Say it, please.” - -She glanced into his face. He saw with surprise that her eyes were -shining. “Well--I was--going to say--that--that--I'm about through with -him.” - -“Do you mean that, Madge?” - -She was silent; perhaps she had not meant to say so much. - -“Has he been ugly to you?” - -“It isn't his meanness altogether. If that were all, I could have stood -it. I have tried hard enough to love him all the while. Even after he -first struck me--” - -“You don't mean--” - -She smiled, half bitterly, and rolled her sleeve up above her elbow. -Even in that faint light he could see the discoloration on her forearm. -“He meant it for my head,” she said. - -“Why, he's a brute.” - -She smiled again. “Didn't you know that a woman can love a brute? It -wasn't that. Even when he made me live in the saloon, and when I found -out what his business really was--” she paused. “I was brought up a -little better than this, you know.” - -“Yes, I have always thought that.” - -“And when I learned that he wasn't--well, honest, I don't believe I -should have cared very much.” - -“Oh, I guess he is not dishonest, is he?” - -“He is bad enough, I'm afraid. He--I don't know--I don't believe it -would do any good to tell you--” - -“No, don't, if you'd rather not, Madge.” - -“I don't care--I'd just as soon. You don't know what a relief it is to -have somebody I can talk out with. I have guarded my tongue so long. And -I suppose, even after all that is past, that if he hadn't left me--” - -“You don't mean that he has gone?” - -She nodded. “It comes to the same thing. He will drop in once in a -while, I suppose. But he has gone back to the Lake with Captain Smiley, -and that means that he wants to see--” she turned toward the shadow of -the oaks--“there's somebody up in Michigan that--that he--” - -“Oh,” said Beveridge. - -“Yes, I have known it a long while.” She turned, looked at him, and -spoke impetuously: “Do you think I haven't been fair to him? Do you -think he--anybody--could say I hadn't stood all a woman ought to stand?” - -Her real emotion caught Beveridge off his guard. For an instant he -hesitated; then he said gently: “Don't let it disturb you now, Madge. -I don't think he can bother you much more. There is no reason why that -shouldn't all slip into the past.” - -“I wish it could.” - -Beveridge was silent for a moment. He wished to lead her into telling -all she knew about McGlory and his ways, yet he hesitated to abuse the -confidence so frankly offered. But, however--“There is one thing about -it, though, Madge,” he said quietly. “If he is on the Lake, he will have -to go where his boat goes, and there isn't much chance for him to get -into bad ways. Even if, as you think, he is dishonest, he will have to -behave himself until he gets back to town.” - -“You don't understand,” she cried. “It is just there, on the water, that -he can do the most harm. I'm going to tell you, anyway. I don't care. -He is a smuggler, or a moonshiner, or something,--I don't know what you -would call it.” - -“A moonshiner--here in Chicago!” - -She nodded nervously. “He is only one of them. I have known it for a -long time, and sometimes I have thought I ought to speak out, but then -he--oh, you don't know what a place he has put me into--what he has -dragged me to! There is one thing I will say for Joe,--he is not the -worst of them. The rest are smarter than he is, and I believe they have -used him for a cat's-paw. But he is bad enough.” - -“You don't know how hard this is to believe, Madge. That a man sailing -on a decent lumber schooner can manage to do enough moonshining--or even -smuggling--to hurt anybody--” - -“But that is just it! It is in the lumber.” - -“In the lumber!” He had stopped rowing, and was leaning forward. Had her -own excitement been less, she could hardly have failed to observe the -eager note in his voice. - -“Yes--oh, I know about it. But it's no use saying anything. They will -never catch the head man--he is too smart for them--” Beveridge took her -hand, and held it gently in both his own. “Don't let's think any more -about any of them, Madge. I don't wonder it excites you--it would -anybody. But you are through with them all now.” She sat up, rigid, and -looked at him. “Are you sure I am?” - -“Yes.” - -“But how? Joe is my husband. Tell me what you mean. What am I to think? -You see what I have done. I have let you bring me out here; I have--I -have told you things that could put Joe in prison. Do you--do you mean -that you can help me--that I can get free from him?” - -For a moment Beveridge thought of turning and rowing back. But he was -not yet through. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but he -would not retreat now. - -“You are willing to be free?” he whispered. “Oh--yes.” - -“To leave him forever?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then we understand each other, Madge. It may take some time.” - -“I don't care--I don't care for anything now.” - -“I shall have to do some thinking.” - -“Do you think it will be hard?” - -“No, but we shall see. Shall we start back--I'm afraid you won't get -home till pretty late, now.” - -“It doesn't matter; I'm alone there now, you know. But still, perhaps -we'd better.” As they rowed down the stream, and later, on the ride back -to the city, Beveridge could not but be fascinated by Madge, in the flow -of spirits that had come with the freedom of this evening. She liked -to look at him and to laugh at his little jokes. She caressed him in a -hundred ways with her voice and her eyes. She rode her wheel with the -lightness of youth, and led the way flying down the paved streets of the -city. And when at last she dismounted at “The Teamster's Friend,” and -unlocked the side door, she was in a merry glow. - -“Come in,” she said. - -“Don't you want to get to sleep? It is late.” - -“I'm not tired. We must have something to eat after that ride. Wasn't it -fine?” - -So he went in with her, and they sat down to a cold lunch in the dining -room. - -When he rose to go, and they were both lingering in the dining-room -door, he said, smiling, “By the way, Madge, while I think of it, I want -an empty bottle.” - -“Come out into the bar-room. You can help yourself.” - -She lighted the gas for him, and he went in behind the bar and rummaged -among some bottles and flasks that stood on the floor. At length he -found one that seemed to suit him, and stood a moment looking intently -at the label. - -“Do you find what you want?” - -“Yes, this will do first-rate.” - -She followed him to the door, and said, as he stood on the step, “When -am I to see you again?” - -“In a few days.” - -“Not to-morrow?” - -“No, I'm afraid not. I expect to be out of the city over Sunday. I have -to go where I'm sent, you know.” - -“Do you know,” she said, with a smile, “you have not told me anything -about your business? Why, I hardly think I know anything about you.” - -“You will soon know enough.” - -She smiled again. “Wait, you will have to be a little careful about -coming. Mr. Murphy goes away about ten o'clock every night. You might -come a little later, and then if Joe isn't here, I will be down. If you -don't see me, you mustn't ask any questions.” - -“I won't.” - -“And you will be thinking about--” - -“Yes. We 'll talk it over next time. Good night.” - -“Good night,” she replied. And when he had walked a little way, he heard -her humming a tune to herself in the doorway. - -Wilson was sitting in the shadow on the steps of the lumber office. He -rose and came forward. - -“Hello, Bill!” - -“That you, Bert?” - -“What's left of me. If I'd known you were going to be gone half the -night, I'd have brought a blanket.” - -“Couldn't help it.” - -“I suppose not. Not even if she'd been fifty-five, with red hair and a -squint, eh?” Beveridge, instead of laughing, made an impatient gesture. -“Come out here in the light, Bert. Nobody around, is there?” - -“No. Our friend the policeman went by ten minutes ago. Just as well he -didn't see you with your friend. They say he's a chum of McGlory's.” - -“See what you think of this,” said Bedloe, drawing the bottle from under -his coat. - -“Hello, you don't mean to say you've got it?” - -“Take a good look.” - -“Yes, sir. Well, I 'll be----! There's the red seal, and the left foot -a little out of drawing, and the right hand turned out instead of in, -and--is it?--yes, an imperfection in the capital C. Yes, sir, you've -got it! I won't say another word, Bill. You're a wizard. You must have -hypnotized her.” - -“Well, I got it. No matter how. And I got something else, too. Here, -step into the lumber yard before we're seen. Stenzenberger doesn't keep -a private watchman, does he?” - -“No. He doesn't need it, with his friendly hold on the police.” - -A board was loose in the rear fence. Within a very few minutes the two -men were stepping cautiously between the piles of lumber, Beveridge -peering eagerly into the shadows, his companion watching him and -following close behind. - -“Wish we'd brought a lantern, Bill.” - -“I thought of it. But it would hardly be safe.” - -“Come this way--over by the Murphy and McGlory shed. That's where it -would have to be handled.” - -Silently they tiptoed forward, reaching out with their hands, to avoid a -collision with the projecting timbers. Once Beveridge tripped and would -have fallen if Wilson had not caught his arm. “Wait--keep still, Bert!” - -“It's all right. We're way back from the street here.” - -“It isn't the street I'm watching. See that light?” He pointed up to a -second-story window in the adjoining building. “She's still up; and it's -awful quiet around here.” - -A moment later Beveridge stopped and sniffed. - -“What is it, Bill?” - -“Don't you smell anything?” - -“Ye-yes, guess I do, a little. But there are a lot of old kegs and -bottles on the other side of the fence.” - -“There are no old kegs about this.” He moved forward, feeling and -sniffing his way along a pile of twelve-by-twelve timbers. “Here, have -you that big jack-knife on you, Bert?” - -“Yes; here it is.” - -Cautiously, very cautiously, Beveridge began prying at the end of one of -the big sticks. - -“Shall I lend a hand, Bill?” - -“No; it's got to be done without leaving any signs of our being here. It -may take time--the thing is in for keeps, all right.” - -During fully a quarter of an hour they stood there, Beveridge prying -with the long blade of the knife, his companion watching him without a -word. Finally Beveridge gave a suppressed exclamation. - -“Fetched her?” - -“Yes. Take hold--easy now.” - -Together they pulled a long, circular plug from the end of the timber, -and set it on the ground. - -“Just put your arm in there, Bert.” - -“Well, I 'll be----! Did she tell you about this?” - -“She certainly did.” - -“But how did you do it, man, without letting on?” - -“Never mind about that,” replied Beveridge, shortly. - -“Yes, sir. It's all there--no end of it.” - -“All right now; that's enough. Let's put the plug back. Now's the time -for us to go slow.” - -“You're right there. Even with this it will be awful hard to bring it -home. The next thing to get is the man. I wish we knew where that fellow -Roche went. What do you think?” - -“I'd be willing to buy him a new hat if he isn't on the train for -northern Michigan just about now. But we don't need him very bad. We -want a bigger man than him.” - - - - -CHAPTER VII--DRAWING TOGETHER - - -[Illustration: 0178] - -THE eleven days Dick had given her for considering were going faster -than any other days Annie had known. To make it worse, she had to pass -them alone, for Beveridge, who was always diverting, hardly appeared -after Dick sailed away. It was now the afternoon of the tenth day, a -bright, cool afternoon with a southerly breeze and a rippling lake. She -was in her room, looking out at the pier, where the _Schmidt_ lay, when -a voice caught her ear. She stepped nearer to the window and then could -see Beveridge and his friend Wilson standing on the beach. While -she looked, Wilson said good-by, and strolled over to the pier; and -Beveridge turned irresolutely toward the house on stilts, looking up at -the flowering balcony. - -Annie remembered that she had not watered her flowers. She always waited -until the shadows crept around to the eastern side of the house; they -were here now, so, filling her pitcher, she stepped out. Beveridge, -fully recovered from the odd sensations of his evening with Madge, -raised his cap, but found that she had turned her back on him and was -absorbed in her forget-me-nots. “Annie,” he called, “aren't you going to -speak to me?” - -“Oh,”--she came to the railing,--“oh, how do you do?” - -“Won't you come out?” - -“Why--I suppose I might.” - -“All right. I 'll wait down here.” When she appeared on the steps, he -suggested a sail. - -“I don't mind--if the wind holds. It's not very strong, and it may go -down with the sun.” She was looking about from lake to sky with the easy -air of a veteran mariner; and he was looking at her. - -“Let's chance it.” - -So they pushed out; and at the moment when Dick and the _Merry Anne_ -were coasting along the bluffs above Grosse Pointe the _Captain_ was -skimming out on a long tack for the Lake View reef. - -Little was said until they were entering on the second mile, then this -from Beveridge, lounging on the windward rail, “Have you been thinking -about our talk that evening, Annie?” - -“Oh, dear!” thought she; but she said nothing. - -“You haven't forgotten what I said?” - -“Oh, the evening you came up for me?” - -“Yes, and Smiley came later.” - -“But you don't--you don't want me to think that you meant--” - -“But I did, Annie. Do you remember I told you I thought I had a fair -chance to be something in the world? Well, I'm nearer it than I thought, -even then. There are a good many things I'm going to tell you some -day,--not just yet,--but when you know them, you 'll understand why I've -dared to talk this way. If I didn't believe I was going to be able to -do for you all you could want, and more; if I didn't feel pretty sure I -could help you to grow up away from this beach, to get into surroundings -that will set you off as you deserve, I'd never have said a word. But -I _can_ do these things, Annie. And if I could only know that I had the -right to do them for you--I want to take you away from here.” - -“But I don't want to leave the beach.” - -“I know--I think I understand just how you feel. It's natural--you were -born here--you've never seen anything else. But I can't stay here, and I -can't go without you. I can't get along anywhere without you.” - -“But--” - -“What, Annie?” - -“You've got along very--very well, lately.” - -“No--that's just it, I haven't. My work has kept me out of town.” - -“Your work?” - -“Yes, I've--” - -“Mr. Beveridge, are you a student, or aren't you?” - -“I--” - -“Tell me, please. Some of the things you have said I don't understand.” - -“Well--no, I'm not.” - -“Then what you have said hasn't been true?” - -“No--some of it hasn't.” - -“And yet you--” She hesitated. - -“In a very little while, Annie,--maybe only a day or two,--some -surprising things are going to happen. I wish I could tell you, but I -can't. I have been perfectly honest with you,--no, don't look at me that -way; it is true,--and if I have misled you in one or two little things, -it was only because I couldn't honestly tell you the whole truth yet. -A few days more, and you shall know everything. I'm not a student. If I -were, I could never offer you what I do offer you now.” He straightened -up, his eyes lighted, and an eager note in his voice compelled her -attention. “I have made a big strike, Annie, or so near it that it can't -get away from me now. I have no earthly business to tell you this,--I -never talked so to any one before,--but I have offered you everything, -myself and all I have, and it would be poor business not to trust you -with part of my secrets, too. I want you to know, because I trust you; -and because I--I'm going to be able to spare you some disagreeable -scenes.” He leaned forward. “Tell me, Annie, when does Dick Smiley come -back?” She turned and looked up the Lake. His eyes followed hers; there, -on the horizon, were the white sails of the _Merry Anne_. - -“Then I can tell you sooner than I thought--to-morrow. To-morrow night -I 'll tell you everything. And maybe you will tell me too--everything. -Will you, Annie? If I come for you to-morrow night and tell you all -about myself, will you give me your answer?” - -She was still looking northward; to-morrow was Dick's eleventh day. “I -can't,” she said slowly; “I have an engagement for to-morrow evening.” - -“Not--not with him?” - -She nodded. - -“Break it, Annie, break it. Or no, wait--I won't say that. We 'll just -leave it. I'm willing to let it work itself out. I think, maybe, when -to-morrow comes, you won't want to see him any more than I want you -to. I won't tell you he's a rascal; I'd rather let you find it out for -yourself. I want you to know why I've spoken out this way, and how hard -I have tried to save you from doing something you would regret all your -life.” - -She was bewildered. - -“Tell me this, Annie,--haven't you an aunt or anything here in town?” - -“Yes,”--her voice was hardly audible,--“Aunt Lizzie lives up by the -waterworks.” - -“Do you go up there much?” - -“Sometimes.” - -“Won't you go to-day, and stay over till to-morrow about this time?” - -“Why?” - -“It may save you annoyance. I think some disagreeable things are going -to happen here--I'd rather not have you at home. It's only on your own -account.” - -“I don't see what can happen to me at home.” - -“Nothing will happen to _you_, but don't ask me to tell you now. -To-morrow evening I 'll come up for you and bring you down, and then I 'll -tell everything. You see, I must have your answer to-morrow. I shall -probably have to go right away, and I couldn't go thinking I had left -this--the one thing of all that I care about--unsettled. I want you to -know that everything in the world I have to offer you is yours forever. -I want you to know this, and then, when you've thought it over and -realized what it means for both of us, I want you to come to me and give -me your hand and tell me that--that it's all right--that you give me -everything, too.” A long silence. “Let's sail up toward the waterworks -now, Annie. I can drop you off there at the pier, and bring the Captain -down alone.” - -She looked again toward the Merry Anne. - -He read her thoughts. “We needn't pass near her. We 'll run in close to -the shore.” - -She shook her head. “I'm going to turn back.” - -And back they turned. In vain he urged her, reproached her, pleaded with -her; hardly a word could he get during all the run back to the beach. He -pulled up the boat for her, and walked by her side to the steps. There, -with an odd pressure of the lips, she shook her head at him, as if -afraid to trust her voice, and mounted the steps. - -“Annie, you haven't told me. Will you go?” - -She shook her head again, and entered the house. Beveridge, motionless, -looked after her. Finally he turned, and glanced with a troubled air at -the approaching schooner, then at the sleepy pier, where he could see -Wilson stretched out flat holding out a bamboo fishpole over the water. -Behind the house Captain Fargo was mending his nets. Beveridge heard him -humming a song as he worked, and after hesitating a moment longer walked -around and greeted him. - -“How do you do, Captain.” - -“How are you?” The fisherman straightened his spare old figure and -looked at the young man. His face was brown above the beard, and -crisscrossed with innumerable fine wrinkles. Beveridge knew, in meeting -those faded blue eyes with their patient, subdued expression, that he -was facing a man whom he could trust. - -“I have something to say to you, Captain, that may be a surprise,--I -want Annie.” - -“You want her?” - -“Yes. You may think I've not known her very long, but it has been long -enough to show me that I can't go on any longer without her.” - -Captain Fargo stood for a moment without replying, then asked simply, -“What does she say?” - -“It isn't settled; I have told her how I feel, and asked her for an -answer to-morrow night.” - -“Isn't she a little young?” - -“I don't think so.” - -“And you--you're a student?” - -“No, I'm not.” - -“Do you think you could support her? I'm afraid we have taught her to -expect more than our position would seem to make right.” - -“Yes, I can support her comfortably. You see, I--” - -“Hasn't Annie told me you were a student?” - -“Yes, I told her that, myself. There was a reason for it, Captain. The -situation is unusual, and my only chance of keeping her out of what is -to come lies in talking it out plainly with you.” He swept the beach -with a swift glance, stepped close to the older man, and spoke rapidly -and eagerly in a subdued voice. - -The Captain removed his hat, and looked out over the water with a -distressed expression. “Are you sure you are right about this?” he -asked, when Beveridge had finished. - -“Perfectly.” - -“You know, it is generally easy to prove a thing when your mind's set on -it.” - -“There is no doubt whatever. My mind is set on nothing but carrying out -my orders. Do you think I would tell you this if I didn't have the whole -case right in my hands--cold? I tell you, I've got it. It's the end of -one of the worst cases in fifty years.” - -“Well, I don't know. I hate to think it.” - -“In my business we learn not to think anything. I always thought Maxwell -would live and die in the work. If there was a clean man and a good -friend to me anywhere on earth, it was Tommy Maxwell. But he had this -work before me, and they paid him I don't know how much to cover the -scent and skip to Mexico. After all his experience, Tommy couldn't walk -by that offer, and now he must end up in Mexico for it. If I told you -about the men and the methods that I have had to fight in this business, -you would find it hard to believe me. In some ways it has been even -a dangerous case.” This was Beveridge's first opportunity to free his -mind, and his tongue was threatening to run loose. He was speaking with -a certain pride. “You know there is one of us shot, on the average, -every year, in this work.” - -“I don't know,” said Fargo again. “Maybe you are right about her going. -It wouldn't be pleasant for her. I 'll speak to her mother about it.” - -“Of course, the sooner the better.” - -“Yes. I 'll go in now.” - -“One minute, Captain. You understand, don't you, my putting it before -you? It's just to spare Annie. There may be rough work.” - -“Yes, I understand.” - -“You 'll hardly find it necessary to tell Mrs. Fargo what I have told -you.” - -“No, I suppose not. Though it would be perfectly safe with her.” - -“If you don't mind, I'd rather not.” - -“Very well.” - -The Captain went into the house; and Beveridge walked away. The _Merry -Anne_ was at the moment coming slowly in toward the north side of the -pier. - -When he had nearly reached the pier, Beveridge turned and stood frowning -and snapping his fingers. A glance told him that Wilson had just hauled -out a fine perch and was baiting his hook for another. He turned toward -the house, and found that the Captain was approaching him. - -“Well,” said Beveridge, “will she go?” - -“I haven't said anything yet. I thought I'd turn it over in my mind. -Aren't you pretty young for this work, Mr. Beveridge?” - -“Not so very. Do as you like about it. I have said all I can.” - -“Oh, it's all right, of course; well, I 'll step in and see how Annie -feels about going.” - -A second time they parted, and a second time Beveridge walked away. -He looked over his shoulder, and saw Annie running down the beach for -something she had left in the _Captain_. He hurried back and intercepted -her. - -“Annie.” - -“Yes.” - -“I don't know if you understand--you see, I have gone a good way in -telling you what I have--” - -“Oh, of course, if you want to take it back--” - -“But I don't. Not a word of it. I was only going to say--” he hesitated -again. She waited. “It isn't what I have asked you for myself; that -stands, Annie, and always will. It's the other. Don't you see how I have -put myself in your hands? I never did such a thing before in my life. -Just by letting you know that there's going to be something going on -here to-night, and by asking you to be away, I have put a lot of power -in your hands. You won't mind--you won't be offended--if I ask you not -to breathe a word of it to a soul?” - -He waited, hoping for some reassuring word or sign, but she only looked -at him with wide eyes. - -“You see a chance word might undo everything. If--” he glanced out -toward the two schooners--“if a hint of the facts gets out there to -him--don't you see? It simply can't happen. You know why I've told -you. It was because I love you, because I want to save you from it -all,--that's why I've put myself in your hands.” - -But all she said was, “Don't say any more; I must go in.” - -He was silent. But with one foot on the first step, she turned. “Wait, -tell me--” - -“Yes?” - -“Tell me--have you anything to do with that revenue cutter that was in -here the other day?” - -“Oh, dear Annie, you mustn't ask me that.” Then she hurried into the -house. - -In the kitchen Captain Fargo was trying to tell his wife some -half-truths, never an easy thing for him to do. - -“But what is it? What's the trouble? I don't see that anything could -happen here that it would hurt her to see.” - -“It wouldn't hurt her, but it really would be better to take her up to -Lizzie's. You and she could come back together to-morrow.” - -“Oh, it's me too! Now what is all this about, anyway?” - -The Captain, instead of replying, spoke to himself: “I can't believe it. -There has been a mistake made. They never should have sent a boy of his -age to do such work.” - -“What work? Is there something you have promised not to tell me?” - -“Yes, there is. Don't ask me what it is. Just talk it over with Annie, -and see if she won't go with you up to Lizzie's.” - -Mrs. Fargo threw a glance at her husband, hesitated, then went up to -Annie's room. - -“Let me in, dear.” Annie obeyed. “I want you to put on your things and -go out with me.” - -“Not to Aunt Lizzie's?” - -“Yes. Your father thinks--” - -“Has _he_ been talking to father, then?” - -“Your father and I have been talking it over. He hasn't told me just why -he asks it--” - -“But I know.” - -“Oh, do you?” There was a note of burning curiosity in these three -words. - -“Yes, I do. And I don't believe a word of it.” - -“It's nothing very bad, I hope?” - -“Oh, I don't mean that I understand it all, but I know something about -it. Mr. Beveridge had no right to go to father.” - -“Oh, it was Mr. Beveridge?” - -“Yes, it was. Tell me, mother, did he--do you know what else he said?” - -“No, I haven't asked him. But he wants us to go very much, and I don't -think we had better say anything.” - -“He wants you to go, too?” - -“Yes.” - -“Now, mother, you won't think I'm very bad if I--don't go?” - -“I'm afraid your father--” - -“Father doesn't understand it himself, I'm sure. It is all a mistake--” - -“Your father thinks that, too.” - -“Oh, does he? Then he won't mind if I don't go!” - -“I don't know. I 'll tell him what you say.” The mother slipped out, and -returned to the kitchen. “She doesn't want to go, father.” - -“But I have asked her to. I can't explain to you, or her--” - -“She seems to know more than you do. She says it's a mistake.” - -“It is; it must be. But I said--” - -“Now, father, don't you think we'd just better not say anything more? -Nobody is going to hurt us in our own home.” - -“No, he said that himself.” - -“Well, now, suppose we just let her have her way. I could see something -was troubling her, and I think she'd best be let alone.” - -The Captain had done what he could, so now he returned to his nets and -left his wife to begin getting supper. - -Beveridge was standing at the shore end of the pier waiting for Wilson, -fish-pole on shoulder, to approach. “Well, what luck, Bert?” - -Wilson held up a small string of perch. “Fair. It's too late in the day -to catch many.” - -“Going up to the house?” - -“Yes, I guess so.” - -Then their voices dropped. - -“Where will you be, Bill?” - -“In the park here, by the road. You 'll be back early?” - -“Yes, soon as I can make the arrangements.” - -“You have spoken to them at headquarters?” - -“Yes.” - -“All right. So long.” - -“So long.” - -At seven o'clock, after supper, Captain Fargo was hailed by Henry -Smiley. - -“How are you, Henry? Glad to see you. You haven't been around much -lately.” - -“No, too busy.” - -“On your way up-town?” - -“No, just been. I ran out of tobacco and went up to get some. I -generally live on the schooner, you know. I have no other place to go -to. That's the devil of it, Cap'n, when you get to be my age without a -home or a near relation. There isn't a soul that cares anything about -me.” - -“I guess you need some supper. Come in with us, 'tain't all cold yet.” - -“That wouldn't help any. I've had enough to eat.” - -“What do you mean by talking about your age? You're young yet.” - -“Do you call forty-five young?” - -“What do you think of me? I'm most sixty.” - -“That's another story. When you go, you 'll leave something behind to -show that your life was worth living.” - -“I wasn't much younger than you when I married.” - -“None o' that for me,” said Henry, with a sort of smile. “I never was -minded to it. If you have seen anything worth while about living, you're -lucky. I never could.” - -“Look here, Henry, I don't like to hear you talking that way. What's the -matter with you?” - -Another questionable smile. “I 'll tell you how it looks to me. We have -to live with a pack of rascals, and heaven help the fools!” - -“Henry, you're enough to give a man the blues.” - -“I've had enough to-day to give 'em to me. To tell the truth, Cap'n, I -don't know what to make of Dick. I'm afraid he is one of the fools.” - -“There isn't anything serious the matter, is there?” This was said -nervously. - -“He's young, and independent. He has no idea of easing off his own -notions so as to keep things running smooth with other people. I've -done everything a man could to help him get on, but it's no use; he -antagonizes the only people who can help him. He's bristling all the -time. A couple of weeks ago he just naturally got sick of his mate and -fired him. I smoothed things over and got the Cap'n to suggest another. -And now he's fired this one, and won't have him on his schooner at -all,--and I've had to take him in for the night.” - -“Wasn't there any reason?” - -“Reason--yes. I know he means to tell the whole story, but he has no -idea how hasty he is sometimes. McGlory's so ugly I could hardly trust -my own self with him. I thought the best thing would be to walk off for -a while, and maybe we'd both cool off.” - -“Dick's all right, though, isn't he? No--no trouble, or anything?” - -“Why? Been hearing anything?” - -“I--I've thought he wasn't quite himself lately.” - -“Why did you think that?” - -“Oh, I couldn't say, exactly.” - -“Why, no, I don't think he's in any trouble.” Henry smiled again. “I -suppose you know as much as I do what's bothering him.” - -“No. What is it?” - -“Well now, see here, if it's that way, I oughtn't to say anything. But -you don't quite follow. Surely, you know. Just about the little girl.” - -“My Annie?” - -“Yes. Of course we all know how Dick feels there.” - -“Well, I've thought of it, of course.” - -“That's another thing that's been bothering me. He's got no earthly -business to think of such a thing. I don't know what to make of him, -anyhow. I used to think I understood him, but Lord! he has new sides to -him every day--you might as well try to organize a volcano. It's kind of -discouraging. He's the nearest approach to something to care about I've -got, and if he would only let me, I'd like to sort o' push him along. -But I don't know--I don't know.” - -“I'm afraid I misled you a little just now, Henry.” - -“How's that?” - -“What I said about not having heard--I _have_ heard something.” - -“About Dick?” - -“Yes. I can't tell you what. I know it isn't so, but it has bothered -me.” - -“What sort of thing--about his character?” - -“In a way--yes.” - -Henry looked sharply at the Captain with an expression of doubt and -uncertainty. Then he half turned away. - -“You aren't going, Henry?” - -“Yes, guess I'd better, and see what Mc-Glory's up to. I'd let him go -back to the city, but I want to see Cap'n Stenzenberger before he does. -Good night.” - -Henry walked out on the pier to his schooner. - -The evening came slowly on and settled over the lake. The breeze, -instead of dropping with the sun, had freshened, and now was stirring -up little waves that lapped the two schooners and the piling under the -pier. Annie, sitting out on her balcony in an inconspicuous dress, her -arms on the railing, was listening and watching--and waiting. She had -heard Henry say good night to her father, and had seen him walk out on -the pier until he was lost among the lumber piles. She saw the afterglow -die in the north, the red-gold lake fade to amber, to gray-blue, almost -to black, while the twinkle of the lighthouse on the point grew into -a powerful beacon and sent an arrow of light deep into the water. She -watched the horizon line grow dimmer and dimmer until it disappeared, -and sky and lake blended in darkness. All was quiet on the pier. The -lights of the schooners swayed lazily; occasionally a voice floated in -over the water, a quiet, matter-of-fact voice. She looked up the beach, -down the beach; all was peaceful. - -But there was no quiet in Annie's heart. She was rigid; her hands were -clasped; her eyes shifted nervously from point to point. Once she got up -and went into her room and tried to read; but in a few moments she was -back. And there she sat until the late twilight had darkened into night. - -Then she rose, passed through the room, leaving the light burning, -stepped out into the hall, and softly, very softly, closed the door. She -stood motionless, still holding the knob. Her father and mother were -in the sitting room quietly talking. She went slowly down the stairs, -stepping cautiously over the one squeaky step, and slipped through the -hall. The sitting-room door was closed. - -“Annie?” - -“Yes, mother.” - -“Is that you?” - -“Yes, I'm out here.” - -“What is it?” - -“Nothing. I'm going out for a breath of air.” - -“Where are you going?” - -“Oh, not far.” - -“Come in soon, won't you?” - -“Yes, of course. I'm not going off anywhere.” - -There was apparently no further need for quiet, yet she was half a -minute closing the front door after her. Again she looked up and down -the beach. She could see the street now on the low bluff; but no one -appeared within the light of the corner gas lamp. Then she hurried along -the beach, climbed up on the pier by some rough steps that she knew, -and walked rapidly out toward the schooner, stepping on the balls of her -feet, and avoiding loose planks. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY - - -[Illustration:0206] - -ONCE within the shadow of the lumber Annie paused. Not a sound came -from the two schooners. She knew that the _Merry Anne_ lay to leeward, -on the north side, and after a moment of listening and a glance behind -she turned toward it, making her way by feeling the lumber until she -found an opening. In another moment she stood at the edge of the pier, -looking down on the schooner. At first she thought Dick must be asleep, -for there was no light in the cabin; then she saw him sitting on the -cabin trunk, his hands clasped about his knees, his pipe between his -teeth, his eyes fixed on the dark water. The night was still, the -lapping of the ripples was the only sound. - -“Dick,” she whispered. - -He turned with a start and removed his pipe. Though he looked directly -toward her, he evidently could not see her, for her black dress blended -with the shadows. - -“Dick,” she said again. - -This time he ducked under the boom and came across to the rail. “Who's -there?” - -“It's me, Dick. I'm coming down.” - -“No, wait.” He stepped up beside her, and added, in a low, uncertain -voice, “You might wake Pink; he's sleeping below.” And before she knew -it, his pipe lay on a plank and he had taken both her hands. “You came -out to see me, Annie?” - -“Yes, but wait, Dick; I don't know how to tell you--I couldn't help -coming--” He waited for her to go on, but she could not. She could not -even withdraw her hands, but stood motionless, her wits fluttering. -Finally he spoke:-- - -“You said you came to tell me--” - -“Not that, Dick--not what you think. It's something else.” - -He released her hands. He even, in his bewilderment, took up his pipe -again. - -“I've found something out, Dick. I couldn't let it go by without telling -you. It's about--Mr. Beveridge.” - -“Oh,” said Dick. - -“Did you think he was a student?” - -“Yes, I thought so.” - -“Well, he isn't at all.” - -“Oh,” said Dick again. And then, “Isn't he?” - -“No, he has something to do with--don't you understand what I'm getting -at, Dick?” He shook his head. - -“Are you going to make me tell you?” - -“You needn't tell me anything you don't want to, Annie.” - -“O dear, I don't understand it myself, much of it; but I thought you -would if what he says is true.” - -“It's something about me, then?” - -“Yes, Dick,--and the revenue cutter.” - -“The revenue cutter?” - -“Yes, the _Foote_. He has something to do with her.” - -“He's a revenue officer, then?” - -“Yes, or something. I don't know just what he is. But you understand it -now, don't you?” - -“Not a bit.” - -“But you must, Dick. He says something is going to happen, right here.” - -“On the pier?” - -“Yes.” - -“When?” - -“Now--to-night. I was afraid it would be before I could get out here. -And I had to wait till dark, you know.” - -“But how do you know all this, Annie?” - -“Mr. Beveridge--Mr. Beveridge told me more than he meant to, I guess. -And then he talked with father. And father and mother both tried to make -me go up to Aunt Lizzie's early this evening, so I wouldn't be here. It -was to save me from something, they said.” - -“But I don't see, Annie--” - -“Why don't you go, Dick. I've come out here to tell you, so you can -sail away before he comes. Then you won't have any trouble. There's a -mistake, I know; and when they have found it out, you can come back.” - -“Oh, I couldn't do that, Annie. I have no reason to go away. If anybody -wants to see me, he knows where he can find me.” - -This silenced Annie. She looked at Dick, and then looked away from him, -out over the Lake, not knowing what to say or think. - -“You came out just to warn me, Annie?” - -She nodded. - -“There must be something more then--something you haven't told me.” - -“No--only he--Mr. Beveridge said a good deal--he tried to make me -believe you were--dishonest, or something.” - -“And you didn't believe it?” - -She made no reply to this. She was beginning to think about getting back -to the house. When Dick spoke again, it was in a gentler voice. - -“I'm glad you came out, Annie, mighty glad. And I know you 'll be glad to -find out that he is wrong.” - -“Oh, I know that--” - -“But there must have been some things I don't understand at all. I don't -know but what it's a good thing he is here. If he can clear it up, it -will be better for all of us. So I 'll stay right here, and if he wants -me, he can have me. That's no reason why I should dodge any man living.” - -“I knew it--I'm glad--” - -Then Dick's reserve broke down. He caught her hands again. “But you -can't tell me your coming out here doesn't mean anything, Annie. You've -told me already what I didn't dare to ask you.” - -“No, Dick, let me go. I'm going back.” - -“But after this--you can't put me off now, Annie. Don't you see? It's -no use trying to make me think you would have done this for anybody, -because you wouldn't. I know it, and you know it.” - -“Now, Dick, please! I'm afraid--” - -“If you only knew how I've felt this trip,--what a regular hell it has -been,--you wouldn't keep me waiting any longer. I know to-morrow's the -time; and I wouldn't have said a word to-night if you hadn't come out -here. But you _are_ here, and you have let me know so much that it's -only a matter of saying a word. You can't blame me if I take your coming -that way.” - -Annie was struggling, and Dick in his eagerness was holding her tightly. -But she got her hands free now and turned away. - -“Let me go back with you, Annie. I--I 'll try not to bother you. I didn't -mean to just now. Hang it, I never can trust myself when--” - -“No, you mustn't come.” - -“Not even good night, Annie?” - -But she hurried off without a word into the shadows, and felt her way -nervously until she reached the central roadway, where it was lighter. -It was now getting on toward nine o'clock, and nothing had happened. -Perhaps nothing was going to happen, after all. What with her hope that -it all might be a mistake, and her fear that she had come on a fool's -errand, Annie was in a pretty state of mind. She did not know what to -make of Beveridge; she did not know what to make of herself; the natural -thing, apparently, was to get angry with Dick, and this she was rapidly -doing. - -When she was passing the last but one of the lumber piles, hurrying -along with less caution than she had used in coming out, a man appeared -out of the shadow and blocked the way. She stepped aside and tried to -run by, but he, as quick as she, stepped aside too and caught her wrist. -Then she saw that it was Beveridge. - -“Let me go!” she said breathlessly. - -“No, Annie, wait. You decided to warn him, did you?” - -“Let me go. You have no right to hold me.” - -“Yes I have, more right than you know. Now tell me, why did you do it?” - -“Mr. Beveridge--” - -“You must wait, Annie. No one is going to hurt you. If you had known -what you were doing, you never would have come. It's no place for a -woman. But now that you have done this, now that you are here, I think -you had better stay and see with your own eyes what you have done. Then -perhaps you will believe me.” - -Poor Annie could say nothing more. Her head whirled. She let him lead -her back along the roadway. - -Close to the spot where she had turned off to reach the schooner -Beveridge stopped. In a moment he was joined by another man. - -“Bert?” - -“Yes. What is it? Want me to take her home?” - -“No. Wait here, in case I call. And have an eye on the other boat.” - -“You aren't going to take her back there?” - -“Never you mind what I'm going to do.” - -“But look here, Bill! This is no place for--” - -“Do what you're told and keep still.” - -Annie heard this muttered conversation without taking it in. Beveridge -still held her wrist, held it tighter than he knew, but she was hardly -conscious of this either. She was caught up and whirled along on the -high wind of events. She was conscious only of Beveridge, of a new side -to his character. The young man she had known on the beach and aboard -the _Captain_ had vanished. This Beveridge was hard, irresistible; his -manner, the atmosphere about him, spoke of some object that must be -reached without regard to obstacles. Her Beveridge had been friendly, -considerate; there was nothing considerate about this man. And yet, a -part of his object was to convince her that he was right and that Dick -was wrong; and she knew why. - -Dick had gone back to his seat on the cabin trunk. Beveridge, gripping -Annie's wrist, stood at the pier edge, and looked down. - -“Smiley,” he said. - -Dick crossed the deck. “I'm Smiley. What is it?” - -“I shall have to ask you to come away with me.” - -“Who are you?” - -“Beveridge, special agent of the United States Treasury Department.” - -“Well, what do you want me for?” Dick was peering forward, trying to -make out the figure in the background. - -“I guess it isn't necessary to tell you that; I 'll give you a minute to -get what things you need.” - -“Who have you got there?” - -“It's me, Dick.” - -“Annie!” Dick leaped up to the pier. “Have you dragged her out here to -see--” - -“Get back there on your schooner, Smiley. It won't be necessary to do -any talking. Anything you say is likely to be used against you. Get back -there.” - -Dick looked at him a moment, then jumped down. Beveridge followed, -helping Annie, none too gently. - -“Where's your man Harper?” - -“Pink,” called Dick. “Pink, come up here.” - -In a moment the sleepy mate appeared. - -“Harper,” said Beveridge, “get an axe. Be quick about it.” - -Pink looked at Dick, who said, “Go ahead. Do whatever he tells you.” - -The axe was brought and handed to Beveridge. - -“Now, Smiley, you and your man go below, please.” - -“Below?” - -“To the hold. I 'll follow.” - -“Pink,” said Dick, “get a lantern.” - -They had to wait a minute, while Pink was lighting the lantern. There -they stood, without speaking, each watching the other. Finally Pink -led the way to the open hatch, and descended the ladder. Dick followed. -Beveridge led Annie to the opening. “Wait,” he said; “I 'll go first, and -help you down.” - -Dick, standing below on the timbers, looked up like a flash. “I wouldn't -try to bring her down here if I were you.” - -“I'm not talking to you, Smiley.” - -“No, but you will be if you bully her much longer. Just try to make her -go down that ladder. Try it!” - -Beveridge, without heeding, turned to Annie. - -When he turned back, Dick, with itching fingers, stood on the deck -beside him. - -“What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go below?” - -“Annie,” said Dick, “just say the word--just look at me--if you -want--look here, Mister Beveridge, I don't know much about law, but it -seems to me you haven't shown me any papers, and, until you do, you can -have your choice of letting go of her hand or losing your front teeth. -Just whichever you like.” - - -But Beveridge did neither. “No, Smiley,” said he, “we won't get into -that sort o' talk.” After which remark, he stooped over and looked down -at Pink and his lantern, and at the timbers on which Pink was standing. -“I guess maybe you can see without going down, Annie. Sit down here, and -watch what I do. Go ahead, Smiley.” - -[Illustration: 0219] - -Dick again descended the ladder, and the special agent followed, axe in -hand. Annie, with horrified eyes, sat limp against the hatch and took in -every motion in that dimly lighted group below. She saw Dick and Harper -stand aside; she saw Beveridge raise the axe a little way and bring it -down sharply on the end of a stick of timber,--an end that was marked -with a circular groove; she saw the timber split open, and a plug fall -out; she saw Beveridge stoop and dip his fingers in a brown liquid that -was flowing from some sort of a broken receptacle; she smelled whiskey. -She was confused, she had only a half understanding of what it meant, -but she shivered as if a cold wind were blowing upon her; and when they -had all three mounted to the deck and were standing about her, she was -still sitting there, holding to something, she knew not what, and gazing -with fascinated eyes into the square black hole,--blacker than at first, -now that Harper was holding the lantern before her on the deck. But she -knew when Beveridge stepped forward to help her up, only to be brushed -aside by Dick, who raised her gently, with a low exclamation of pity, -and helped her across the deck. - -The three men gathered about her at the rail. - -“Before we go any farther,” said the agent, in a conversational tone, -“will you men walk into Cap'n Fargo's house with me and sit down while -we talk this over a little? If you say you will, I'm willing to take -your word. But if not, I have men on the pier and on the bank that might -help you to make up your minds.” - -“That's not necessary. We 'll go with you. Just a step up, Annie. Put -your hand on my shoulder.” - -“All right, Mister Smiley. Come, Harper.” In passing his assistant, -Beveridge paused to whisper: “I 'll be at the house. See that McGlory -doesn't try to get ashore. If he gives you any trouble, whistle.” - -A few moments more, and they were seated around Mrs. Fargo's dining -table, Beveridge, Dick, Pink Harper, and the old fisherman. Annie was -shut in her room, refusing admittance even to her mother. - -“There's one question that comes up right here, Mr. Smiley,” began -Beveridge, “before we go any farther. Is this man Harper one of your -accomplices?” - -“What do you mean by that?” - -“Don't take my time by evasions. You have given me trouble enough -now. If you will tell me he has had little or nothing to do with this -business, and if he can give a good account of himself, I 'll let him go. -What do you say?” - -“Will you tell me what you mean?” - -“That's enough. I won't waste any more time on it. We 'll hold him. -Cap'n,” turning to Fargo, “there's one thing--I guess you can understand -my position--I shall have to call on Annie for a witness, a little -later.” - -Here Dick broke out. “So that's why you dragged her into this, is it?” - -“Be careful what you say, Mr. Smiley.” Dick looked hard at him, then -glanced around the group, then settled back in his chair. After a short -silence, Captain Fargo spoke. - -“This isn't all settled, is it, Mr. Beveridge? Dick hasn't told you that -what you thought was so?” - -“It was hardly necessary. I found the proofs right there on his -schooner.” - -“Is that right, Dick?” - -“It seems to be.” - -“You don't mean to say right out that you're a smuggler, Dick?” - -“No, I'm not.” - -Captain Fargo was puzzled. He looked from one to the other of the two -men, until Beveridge, with an air of settling the matter, rose. “You'd -better not throw away any sympathy there, Cap'n. You can be thankful -to find out in time that he's a bad one. I'm only sorry to have to draw -your family into it. I tried hard enough not to.” - -“Yes, I know that.” - -There was a shout outside, a noise on the steps, and a hammering on the -door. Then before the fisherman could get out of his chair, the outer -door burst open, and down the hall and into the dining room came Wilson, -breathless, his hat still on his head. - -“Well, Bert--” - -“He's skipped!” - -“McGlory? What were you thinking of? Where'd he go?” Beveridge was on -his feet. - -“No use, Bill; sit down. It 'll take a steamer to catch him.” - -“You didn't stand there and let him sail off.” - -“Wait 'll I tell you. I was back a little way, where the pier narrows, -so's he couldn't slip by through the lumber. The schooner he was on, -the--the--” - -“_Schmidt_,” put in Pink. - -“The _Schmidt_ was on the south side, the--the--” - -“_Merry Anne_” said Pink, “--was on the north. There's a south wind, you -see. And the first thing I knew I heard the tackle creaking off to the -left. Thinks I, that's from the _Merry Anne_, only there ain't a soul -aboard her. I ran out and looked, and sure enough, there she was, with -two or three men hauling away on the sails.” - -“And you didn't stop 'em?” - -“How could I, Bill? You see, they'd cut the ropes and let her drift off -down the wind. She was a hundred feet out before they made a move.” - -“But what were they doing on the _Merry Anne?_” - -“Don't you see?” said Pink; “she can beat the old _Schmidt_ hands down.” - -“They'd sneaked across out by the end,” added Wilson, “while I was -nearer shore.” Beveridge sat down again, and tapped the table nervously -as his eyes shifted from one to another of the faces before him. “How're -they sailing, Bert?” - -“Right off north.” - -“Before the wind?” - -“Yes, sure,” said Pink; “how could they help it with a south wind?” - -“Smiley,”--Beveridge had turned on Dick, and was speaking in a keen, -hard voice,--“where are they going?” - -“I couldn't tell you.” - -“Think a little. Your memory's poor, maybe.” - -But Dick was stubborn. Pink, however, was struck by a flash of -intelligence. “I 'll bet I know.” - -“Where, Harper?” - -“Why, to Spencer's, where we just come from.” - -“Where's that?” - -“Around in Lake Huron. If I had a chart here--Cap'n, ain't you got a -chart o' Lake Huron?” - -Except for Pink's eager voice, the room was still. The four other men -sat like statues, leaning forward. As he waited for the reply, the boy -became suddenly conscious of the odd expression of their faces. He had -meant to help both Dick and himself--was he helping? - -The thought that had already found a place in Dick's mind, the thought -that they were in the hands of a merciless agent, whose whole object was -to prove them guilty, whose own advantage, whose future perhaps, lay in -proving them guilty--and that the course to be followed was not a matter -for offhand decision, came now to him, and he faltered. - -Captain Fargo shook his head. “No,” said he, huskily, “not even of Lake -Michigan.” - -“Go on, Harper. Perhaps you can tell us. Your memory's better than -Smiley's.” - -When Beveridge spoke that last sentence, he made a mistake. Pink glanced -at Dick, and dropped his eyes. When he raised them, his lips were closed -tight, as if he were afraid to open them at all. - -“Well, go on.” - -Pink shook his head. - -“Don't be a fool, Harper. If you can help me get McGlory, it may make it -easier for you.” - -“But him--” Pink motioned toward Dick--“would it make it easier for -him?” - -Beveridge shook his head. “I don't believe the Lord a'mighty could save -him.” - -“Then,” said Pink, with a flash of anger, “you can go to hell for all o' -me!” - -Beveridge sat thinking. He looked at Dick from under his eyebrows, -studying the man with shrewd eyes. With the same scrutiny, he looked at -Pink. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket and consulted a list -that had been jotted on the back; and followed this with a Milwaukee -time-table, which he studied with eye and finger. “It's now--” he looked -at his watch--“nine-twelve. We 'll make the nine-forty. Come along with -me, Smiley.” Captain Fargo asked the question that Dick would not ask. -“What are you going to do with the boys, Mr. Beveridge?” - -“We're going to Milwaukee now, on the nine-forty.” - -“To Milwaukee!” - -“Yes. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you.” Dick and Pink took their -hats and rose. Wilson stepped back to fall in at Pink's shoulder, -leaving Smiley to his superior. Suddenly Captain Fargo, after a moment -of puzzled silence, broke out with, “Wait--has anybody seen or heard of -Henry?” - -All looked blank. - -“Where was he seen last?” asked the Special Agent. - -“He was here on the beach after supper. We had a little chat together. -He'd been uptown after some tobacco, and said he was going right out to -the _Schmidt_, and would be spending the night there.” - -“He hasn't been around since?” - -“No--not here.” - -“You haven't seen him?” This was addressed to Pink. Beveridge wheeled -suddenly on him in asking it, and raised his voice with the idea of -bullying him into a reply. But Pink shook his head. - -“They wouldn't likely have lugged him across the pier with them. He may -be on the _Schmidt_ yet. How about it, Bert?” - -“I don't think so. I looked around the cabin. Shall I look again?” - -“Yes. We 'll wait here. You 'll have to hurry with it. We can't stay here -more than ten minutes longer.” - -Wilson was out of the room at a bound, down the steps and across the -beach and running out on the long pier. In five minutes he was back. - -“Well--” - -“Not a soul there.” - -“How many men did he have aboard? Do you know, Cap'n?” - -“Only one or two, I guess, besides Mc-Glory.” - -“They've gone along, of course. The only question is, did they take him -with 'em?” - -“How could they?” said Wilson. “He is a strong man, and there wasn't any -sound of a scuffle. No, if there had been anything like that, I should -have heard it.” - -“I 'll tell you what I think,” said Fargo. “It isn't what I think, -either; but it keeps coming up in my mind. He didn't seem quite himself -when he was talking to me.” - -“How--nervous?” - -“Oh, no, but kind of depressed. He never says a lot, but then he isn't -generally blue like he certainly was to-night. He talked about McGlory, -too.” - -“What did he say about him?” asked Beveridge sharply. - -“He said that McGlory and Dick had disagreed, and Dick had ordered him -off his schooner, and he had taken him in for the night. McGlory, he -said, was so ugly there was no getting on with him. He had sort of made -an errand up-town so he could get away and cool down a little. I guess -he felt so glum himself he was afraid to trust himself with a man that -acted like McGlory was acting.” Beveridge was standing by the door, -ready to start, watching the Captain closely during this speech. Now -a look of intelligence came to his face. “How are Henry Smiley's -affairs--money and that sort of thing?” he asked. - -“Oh, all right, I think. He has always been saving. He must have a neat -little pile tucked away by this time.” - -“And he wasn't married, or--” Beveridge paused. - -“Not Henry. No, he was a woman-hater, pretty nearly.” - -“Was he pessimistic--kind of down on things? Did he have any particular -object in living--anything to work for specially?” - -“He was pessimistic, all right. Didn't believe in much of anything. I--I -know what you're thinking, Mr. Beveridge, but I--I can't hardly think -it's possible. I don't know, though, I guess his schooner was about the -only thing he cared for, except maybe Dick here.” - -“Oh, fond of his cousin, was he?” - -“Yes, I think you could say he was that.” - -“Had you dropped him any hint of what I told you?” - -“Well, now you speak of it, I don't know but what maybe I did let him -see that I was a little worried about Dick.” - -Beveridge nodded. “I can't wait any longer. Come, Bert. You, I suppose,” - turning to Dick and Pink, “will come along without any trouble?” - -“Certainly,” said Dick. - -“Good-by, Captain--and say, by the way, Captain, if I were you, I would -send right up to the life-saving station and have them set a few men to -dragging out there.” - -“Do you really believe that--” - -Beveridge nodded. “If he is found anywhere, it will be within fifty feet -of the pier. Good-by. Come, Bert.” - -They hurried over to the railway station, Beveridge walking with -Dick, Wilson with Harper. In the minute or two that they had to wait, -Beveridge scrawled the following message, and had it put promptly on the -wire:-- - -“To Captain B. Sullivan, on board U.S. Revenue Cutter _Foote_, -Milwaukee. - -“Am coming Milwaukee with two of our men. Third has stolen schooner and -headed Lake Huron. Will be aboard for chase about midnight. Kindly have -all ready. - -“Wm. Beveridge. - -“_To Operator_:--If not there, try Sheboygan, Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay, -and Marinette,--in order named. Beveridge. - -“RUSH!” - - - - -CHAPTER IX--THE CHASE BEGINS--THURSDAY MORNING - - -[Illustration: 0236] - -THE four men were in the smoking-car, spinning along toward Milwaukee. -Beveridge handed Dick a cigar. Then, after a little:-- - -“Say, Smiley, I'm doing a rather odd thing with you.” - -“Are you?” - -“Yes--in taking you off here instead of having you locked right up in -Chicago.” - -Dick waited. - -“You see, I have thought this business over pretty carefully; I have -thought _you_ over pretty carefully--and I like you. Now I have been -some time on this case, and I understand it, I think. I understand you, -and McGlory, and Stenzenberger, and the lot of you. But there is one -place where I'm still weak,--that is Spencer and his places up there in -Lake Huron. That is the only thing we haven't run down. I could get -it of course in time, but it _would_ take time, and that's just what I -don't want to take now. I'm depending on you to set me right. Of course -it's your privilege, if you want, to shut your mouth up tight. But I -don't take you for that sort of a chap. I have a way of my own of going -at these things. There are some of our men would bully you, but that -isn't my way--not with you. I 'll tell you right here, that any help you -can give me will be a mighty good thing for you in the long run.” - -“What do you expect me to tell you?” - -“You will know at the proper time. All I want to find out now is whether -you are going to stand by me and help me through with it or not.” - -“Why, I will do what I can.” - -“What does that mean exactly?” - -“I will tell you all I know.” - -“All right, sir. Now we understand each other. And I 'll do what I can to -make it easy for you.” - -“There's one thing--” - -“What is it?” - -“What are you going to do with us in Milwaukee?” - -“If we have to stop over night, why, we 'll go to a hotel.” - -“Not the jail, eh?” - -“No,”--Beveridge gave his prisoner a keen glance, then shook his -head,--“no, that won't be necessary.” - -The _Foote_ was not at Milwaukee; apparently she was not at Sheboygan, -Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay, or Marinette. Throughout the night, while -Dick and Harper were shut up with Wilson on the top floor of the hotel, -Beveridge haunted the telegraph office downstairs. Simultaneous messages -went out to Cedar River, Green Bay, Two Rivers, Kewaunee,--to every -little town along the west shore, even back to Kenosha, Racine, and -Waukegan. Then Beveridge thought of the east shore, and tried all the -ports from Harbor Springs down to St. Joseph, but with no success. He -dropped on the lounge in the hotel office for a cat nap now and then. -And finally, at half-past five in the morning, he was called to the -telephone and informed that the _Foote_ had just been sighted heading in -toward the breakwater. - -Promptly he aroused his prisoners, who obligingly tumbled into their -clothes; and the party drove down to the river and boarded a tug. A -little time was to be saved by meeting the revenue cutter before she -could get in between the piers. So out they went, past silent wharves -and sleepy bridge keepers, out into the gold of the sunrise. - -There was the _Foote_ nearly in, her old-fashioned engine coughing hard, -her side wheels beating the water to a foam, making her very best speed -of nine miles an hour. She caught the signal from the tug, stopped, -backed, and let down her companion ladder. Captain Sullivan, a grizzled -veteran, bearing evidences of hasty dressing, was at the rail to meet -them. - -“Well,” said Beveridge, “I'm mighty glad to see you, Captain. I didn't -know whether you were on earth or not.” - -“I got your message at Sturgeon Bay, and came right down.” - -“Did you answer?” - -“Of course,” somewhat testily. “You gave me no Milwaukee address. I sent -it to Lakeville.” - -“That so? They should have forwarded it. They must have gone to sleep -down there.” - -“I know nothing about that. All clear down there? All right, Mr. -Ericsen!” - -The tug backed away, the paddle-wheels revolved again, and the old -steamer swung around in a wide circle. - -“You haven't told me where you want to go, Mr. Beveridge.” Captain -Sullivan was taking in Smiley and Harper with an eye that knew no -compromise. - -“We 'll do that now, Cap'n. Mr. Smiley here is going to help us out a -little if you will show us your chart of Lake Huron.” - -“_He_ is!” was the Captain's reply. Then he turned abruptly and led the -way up to the chart room. - -The chart was spread out, and the three men bent over it. - -“Now, Mr. Smiley,” said Beveridge, “can you put your finger on Spencer's -place?” - -Dick did so. - -“There's a harbor there, you say?” - -“What's that nonsense,” broke in Captain Sullivan, “a harbor behind -False Middle Island?” - -“Yes,” Dick replied, “a good one.” - -“You'd better tell that to the Hydrographic Office.” - -“I don't need to tell it to anybody. I've been in there with my -schooner.” - -“When was that, young man?” - -“This month.” - -The Captain turned away with a shrug, and joined his lieutenant on the -bridge. “We 'll make for False Middle Island, Mr. Ericsen, just beyond -Seventy Mile Point.” - -“Very well, sir.” - -Deliberately, very deliberately, the Foote coughed and rumbled -northward, and Milwaukee fell away astern. She could not hope to catch -the Merry Anne if the southerly breeze should hold. The schooner was -running light, and even though she might have made but eighty or ninety -miles during the night, she was by this time more than abreast of -Milwaukee, and on the east side of the Lake, where she had the advantage -in the run for the Straits of Mackinac. - -“Do you think,” asked Beveridge, when the Captain had gone to the -bridge, “that we can overhaul her in the Straits?” - -Dick shook his head. “Hardly. She has had a pretty steady breeze all -night.” - -“But it isn't very strong.” - -“It doesn't need to be. There is nothing she likes better than running -before just such a breeze. And when the sun is well up, it will blow -harder.” - -“Are you sure?” - -“Yes.” - -“This here is sort of an old tub, too.” - -Dick sniffed. “You have to watch the bubbles to see which way she's -going.” - -Beveridge studied the chart. “See here,” he said, “where's the Canadian -hangout?” Dick laid his finger on the indentation that represented Burnt -Cove. - -“Beyond the--what's this--Duck Island?” - -“Just beyond the Duck Islands.” - -“Which place do you think he will make for?” - -“Well--I can only tell you what I think.” - -“Go ahead.” - -“What McGlory will do will be to head for Spencer and take off the old -man.” - -“And then run over to Burnt Cove?” - -“That's what I think. Burnt Cove is in Canada, you see.” - -“Yes, I see it is. The boundary line runs down west and south of -Manitoulin Island.” - -“If you want to stop him very bad, you'd better have Captain Sullivan -go over to the boundary, close to Outer Duck Island, and then head for -Spencer. In that way we shall be approaching Spencer along the line that -McGlory must take if he tries to make the cove; and if it is not night, -we ought to stand a good chance of sighting him. I figure that we ought -to get up there just about in time.” - -“Of course, he doesn't know that we're so hot on his trail,” mused -Beveridge. - -Dick sniffed again. “If you call this hot.” - -The Captain returned from the bridge, and Beveridge repeated Dick's -suggestion. - -“How are we to know this schooner?” - -“She's sky-blue with a white line.” - -“Is she fast?” - -“She don't need paddle-wheels to beat this.” This remark did not please -Captain Sullivan. He turned away. - -“I don't know how you feel, Smiley,” said - -Beveridge, “but I didn't get much sleep last night. Did you?” - -“Precious little.” - -Within a few moments, while the colors of the dawn were fading, while -the _Foote_ was pounding heavily along northwest by north, the special -agents and their two prisoners were sleeping like children. - -At two o'clock Thursday morning the Foote lay, with motionless engines -and lights extinguished, to the southward of Jennie Graham Shoal, near -Outer Duck Island. Smiley and Harper, with Wilson close at hand, stood -leaning on the rail, watching a launch that the crew were lowering to -the water. - -“Well,” said Dick, in a low voice, “it looks as if we might get them.” - -“Shouldn't wonder,” Wilson replied. He, too, was subdued by the strain. - -“Pretty dark, though.” - -“That isn't all on their side.” - -“No, perhaps it isn't. Going to put out both launches, eh?” - -“It looks that way.” - -Cautiously and swiftly the sailors worked. One launch, and then the -other, was lowered into the water. - -“Pretty neat, ain't it?” whispered Pink. “Why, with this wind they've -got to run in right by one or other of the boats to get to Burnt Cove. -Would they let us sail the _Anne_ around, think, if they get her back?” - -Dick shook his head. - -Farther aft Beveridge was talking to Captain Sullivan. “It's the only -thing to do, Captain. With him along, we can't miss her.” - -“I've nothing more to say. I don't like it; but he's your man.” - -“One thing more, Captain. It won't hardly be necessary to send an -officer with me.” - -“But--” - -“You see Wilson and myself, and about four husky sailors, a couple of - 'em to run the launch, will be enough, Why not just leave it that way? -You might tell your men they're to take my orders.” - -His meaning was obvious to the Captain; but he hesitated. This man -Beveridge was young and bumptious. Irregular things had sometimes to be -done, but it were best that they should be done by a seasoned officer. -Still, it was Beveridge's case. They walked together toward the -prisoners. - -“Smiley,” said Beveridge, “I'm going to take you along. I guess there -isn't much doubt you could tell your schooner in the dark?” - -“Tell her in the dark!” exclaimed Pink. “Why, he knows the squeak of -every block!” - -So Dick went. The Captain added a fifth sailor for safety, and took time -to give him a few quiet instructions before he joined the launch. Then -they pushed off and slipped away into the night. For four hours after -that, the only sound heard aboard the _Foote_, where Pink, sleepless, -hung over the rail, guarded by a deep-chested sailor, was the occasional -puff-puff of one of the launches as it changed its post. A dozen pairs -of eyes were searching the dark, looking for any craft that might be -coming from Michigan. - -As Captain Sullivan suspected, Beveridge's launch was over the Canadian -boundary half an hour after she lost sight of the ship. Then Beveridge -drew Dick back near the boiler. “Tell me this, Smiley. Do you think -those fellows could possibly have got through before now?” - -“I haven't much doubt of it.” - -“What makes you think so?” - -“Because of the wind. It has never let down a minute since they started. -If they lost no time at Spencer's, they could have done it easily.” - -“That's what I thought. Will you take the wheel and pilot us into Burnt -Cove?” - -“Sure, if you want me to.” - -Dick took the wheel. The fifth sailor spoke up. “You can't do that, -sir.” - -“Can't do what?” said Beveridge. - -“Take the wheel, sir. Powers is to keep the wheel. That's the orders.” - -“There's nobody but me giving orders here.” - -“Sorry, sir; but Powers has got to keep the wheel.” - -“We won't have any talk about this, young man. I'm a special agent of -the United States Treasury Department, and I'm running this business. -Powers can sit down.” - -The sailor's orders evidently did not warrant him to resist further. - -Dick looked about for his bearings. Dimly he could make out the islands -to the left. “What does she draw?” he asked. - -“Two feet.” - -With only two feet of draft he could take chances. He was directly on -the course that the Merry Anne had taken in leaving the cove, and he -felt as certain, with the compass before him, as if he had made the trip -by night a hundred times. There was very little sea, and the launch made -good progress. “You might tell the engineer to crowd her all he can,” he -said to Beveridge. “It's quite a run.” - -Once Dick glanced back; and he winced. There sat Wilson, on his left -hand and not a yard away, with a rifle across his knees. At this moment -Beveridge returned from a whispered consultation with the engineer, and -scowled at his assistant. “That isn't necessary, Bert,” said he. “Put it -up.” - -The overzealous young man laid the rifle on the seat behind him; and -Beveridge, after a moment of hard thinking, his eyes fixed on Dick's -muscular back, came up beside the wheel and leaned on the coamings. -Dick's gaze left the compass only for the darkness ahead, where the -outline of something that he knew to be a coast line was, to his trained -eye, taking shape. - -“Say, Smiley,”--the special agent's voice was lowered; his tone was -friendly,--“don't let that bother you. Nobody is holding a gun on you -here. That isn't my way--with you.” - -Dick's eyes were fixed painfully on the compass. - -“I just want you to know that it was a mistake. These guns aren't for -you.” - -Beveridge, having said enough, was now silent. Apparently too boyish for -his work, often careless in his talk, he was handling Smiley right, -and so well did he know it that he was willing to lounge there at his -prisoner's elbow and watch the course in silence. If Beveridge was -ambitious, greedy for success and promotion, frequently unscrupulous -as to the means to be employed,--as now, when he was deliberately going -into English territory, an almost unheard-of and certainly unlawful -performance,--hard, even merciless, so long as he regarded only his -“case”; he was also impulsive and sometimes warm hearted when appealed -to on the personal side. He had, before now, gone intuitively to the -heart of problems that stronger minds than his, relying on reasoning -alone, had been unable to solve. - -Much as a bank teller detects instantly a counterfeit bill or coin, -he picked his man. He was quick to feel the difference between -a right-minded man who has fallen into wrong ways and the really -wrong-minded man. His course tonight was a triumph. He had given his -prisoner the means to lead his little party to destruction, but he knew -perfectly that nothing of the sort would be done. More, the only man -aboard who could prove in court that he had gone over that vague thing, -the boundary line, was this same prisoner, who should, by all sensible -thinking, be the last man to trust with such information; and yet he -felt perfectly comfortable as he leaned out a little way and watched the -foam slipping away from the bow. - -The launch went on toward the increasing shadows, plunged through the -surf, and glided into the cove. - -“See anything?” whispered Beveridge. - -“Not a thing,” Smiley replied. - -“She isn't here, eh?” - -“No, neither of them.” - -“Neither of what?” - -“Neither the _Anne_ nor the _Estelle_, Spencer's schooner. Shall we go -back outside?” - -“Yes.” - -“You speak to the engineer, then. This bell makes too much noise.” - -They backed cautiously around and returned through the surf to deep -water. - -“Lie up a little way off the shore here,” said Beveridge; “we 'll cut -them off if they try to get in.” - -For a moment nothing was said; then this from Smiley, “Do you mind my -saying a word?” - -“No. What?” - -“It has just struck me--we are wasting time here.” - -“You think so?” - -“I know so.” - -“Why?” - -“It stands to reason that McGlory would expect to be chased, don't it?” - -“Of course.” - -“Well, then, he is not going to put right over here after he has -taken off old Spencer, is he? It's almost like running back on his -course--amounts to the same thing.” - -“But he is likely to come here, isn't he?” - -“I should think so.” - -“Well,” impatiently, “how else could he do it?” - -“Easily enough. He could go right on east from Spencer's place and make -for Owen Channel, up near the head of Georgian Bay. That's at the other -end of this island.” - -“Manitoulin Island? Is it as big as that?” - -“Yes, it lies all across this end of Lake Huron. If he went through Owen -Channel, he could get around into the North Channel, and then down into -Bayfield Sound and Lake Wolsey. Bayfield Sound, you see, pretty nearly -cuts the island in halves. It is right opposite here, only a few miles -overland. That would be a long way around, but it is the safe way. You -see, I've been thinking--” - -“Well--what?” - -“Why, he would be likely to think just like I did, that when you had got -up here you wouldn't be able to resist coming on across the line.” - -“You seem to know these routes pretty well for a man who has been to -Spencer's only once.” - -“I saw it on the chart the other day. A man couldn't help figuring that -out.” - -“What would you suggest doing?” - -“Putting for Spencer's, just as tight as your old stationary wash-tub -can make it.” - -“But hold on, now. If you think they have got away from there long -ago--” - -“I _think_ that, but I'm not sure. Supposing they have--then you've lost -them anyhow. Don't you see? But suppose there was a delay in getting -away there,--it's more than likely McGlory and Spencer wouldn't agree. -McGlory isn't the agreeing kind, and I don't think Spencer is either. It -will be daylight before so very long, and with this wind they can't get -here, if they're coming here at all, without our sighting them on the -way over. And there is just a fighting chance of catching them there -before they make for Georgian Bay, or some other place we don't know -of.” Beveridge thought a moment. “There is something in that. We 'll do -it.” - -At mid-morning the _Foote_ stopped her engines abreast of False Middle -Island, and Captain Sullivan sent for Beveridge. - -“You tell me there is a harbor in there?” - -“That's what I understand. But it won't be necessary to take the steamer -in.” - -The Captain's expression showed that he had not the slightest notion of -taking her in. - -“I think,” Beveridge went on, “that you had better put me ashore with -a few men in there north of the island. I 'll go around behind the -sand-dunes and come on the place from the woods. Then if they should be -there, and if they should try to run out, you can stop them. I 'll have -Smiley guide me.” - -“You're going to take him ashore with you? - -“That's what I'm going to do.” - -“I don't believe in this!” - -Beveridge said nothing. - -“Oh, very well. I 'll have a boat ready.” Smiley was called, and -Beveridge drew him aside and outlined his plan. Shortly Wilson joined -them, and a half-dozen sailors were picked from the crew. Then, all but -Smiley armed with rifles and revolvers, they descended to the small boat -and were brought rapidly to the shore. - -“Which way?” asked Beveridge, sticking close at Smiley's elbow. - -“I 'll show you; come along.” He led the way back among the pines -and made a circuit, bringing up squarely on the landward side of the -settlement. - -“Where is it now, Smiley?” - -“Right there.” - -Beveridge peered out through the trees, then beckoned his men together. -“Come in close, boys, and pick your trees. Keep out of sight--and quiet. -Take my rifle, one of you.” - -“Shall we go in?” asked Wilson. - -“You stay here, Bert.” - -“Hadn't you better take your rifle?” - -“No, I don't want it. Quiet now.” - -The men spread out, taking places where they could command the -outbuildings. - -“Smiley?” - -“Yes.” - -“Which is Spencer's house--where he lives himself?” - -“The biggest one. You can see the roof over that shed there.” - -“All right. Much obliged.” - -Beveridge walked rapidly out into the clearing and disappeared around -the shed. They heard him mount Spencer's front steps and knock. - -“He's plucky enough,” muttered Dick. - -“Oh, don't you worry about Bill Beveridge,” said Wilson. “Why, I've seen -him--” - -But Beveridge was calling for them to join him. - -“Nobody here?” asked Wilson. - -“Not a soul. I took a look around the house. They left in a hurry. See -there.” - -He nodded toward the harbor. There lay the Merry Anne at the wharf. The -smaller schooner was not to be seen. - -“Too late, eh?” said Wilson. - -“Too late.” - -“Suppose they've gone overland?” - -“Not a bit of it. They left Smiley's schooner here and went off in -Spencer's.” - -“Oh, he had one too?” - -“Certainly he did.” - -Dick had made headlong for the schooner. Now they saw him standing on -the after deckhouse, reading a paper which he had found nailed to the -mast. - -“What have you there?” called Beveridge. - -“Come and see.” - -The special agent joined him and took the paper. “It's hard enough to -read. Whoever wrote this was in a big hurry. What's this? 'Left again. -You'd better foot it home. Whiskey Jim.' Whiskey Jim, eh? He's stealing -your thunder, Smiley.” - -“Will you let me see it again?” said Dick. He sat down on the edge of -the deck-house and read it over, gazing at it with fascinated eyes. The -other men watched him curiously. - - - - -CHAPTER X--THURSDAY NIGHT--THE GINGHAM DRESS - - -[Illustration: 0260] - -WELL,” said Wilson, “what do you think?” - -“We 'll do our thinking later. Take these men and search the place. -Smiley and I will wait here.” - -“You don't expect them to find anything, do you?” asked Dick, when the -others had gone. - -“Can't say. We've lost the men, but we may get some evidence.” - -“Where do you think they are?” - -“Where could they be but in Canada?” - -Dick was silent. - -“Say, Smiley, I like the way you're acting in this business. If anything -on earth will make it any brighter for you, it is what you are doing -now. You might even go a step farther if you should feel like it any -time. It's plain that McGlory and Spencer are pretty deep in, and if you -would come out and tell all you know, it might help you a lot.” - -“I have told all I know.” - -“Oh, of course,--that's just as you like.” - -They were silent again for a few moments. Then Dick spoke up. “You feel -pretty sure about their being in Canada, don't you?” - -“Have you thought of anything else?” - -“Yes. Where is the other revenue cutter now?” - -“The _Porter?_ At Buffalo, I think,--or Cleveland, or Detroit.” - -“And she's about twice as fast as the _Foote_, isn't she?” - -“Just about.” - -“Well, now, supposing they weren't sure but what she would be sent up -here too? It was as likely as not.” - -“It should have been done.” - -“Then wouldn't they have been fools to have put right out again to cross -the Lake--with one steamer coming down on 'em through the Straits and -another coming up from Detroit?” - -“Fools or not, they did it. We know that much.” - -“Do we?” - -“_Don't_ we!” - -“I don't see it.” - -“Don't you see what they've done? They have left your schooner here and -gone off in Spencer's. - -“Who has?” - -“Look here, Smiley, you are on the wrong side of this case. You ought to -be working for the government.” - -“I may be before I get through with it. You see what I'm driving at, -don't you?” - -“About yourself?” - -“Hang myself. About Spencer.” - -“And McGlory?” - -“No, not McGlory. Just Spencer.” - -“Why not McGlory?” - -“Just this--” - -Wilson approached. “There's nobody here, Bill.” - -“Wait over there a minute, Bert, with the boys. Go on, Smiley.” - -“McGlory is a sailor; Spencer isn't. McGlory would feel safer on a boat; -Spencer knows these woods like a book. Do you follow?” - -“Go on.” - -“Now, I'm just as sure as that I'm sitting here, that when it came to a -crisis like this, those two would disagree.” - -“And you ought to know them.” - -“I know McGlory. He isn't the kind that takes orders from anybody, drunk -or sober. And from the look I had at old Spencer, I don't think he is -either. He looked to me like a cool hand. Quiet, you know, with a sort -of cold eye. It doesn't sound like Spencer to put out into the Lake with -revenue cutters closing in all around him.” - -“But does it sound like McGlory?” - -“Exactly. He's bull headed.” - -“Then you think the other schooner _was_ here?” - -“More than likely.” - -“And McGlory took it and Spencer didn't?” - -“That's getting near it.” - -“And who wrote that note?” - -“I don't know. I never saw Spencer's writing, and McGlory's only once or -twice. It's written rough, but it looks familiar, somehow.” - -“McGlory's work then, likely?” - -“Maybe.” - -“But what object would Spencer have in staying behind? Where could he -go?” - -“He could get out of Michigan and down to Mexico without one chance in -a hundred of being caught--not unless you had men on every train in the -United States.” - -“You mean he would make for a railway?” - -“Yes.” - -“But he would have to go to Alpena to do it.” - -“Not a bit. He needn't go anywhere near the coast. There's a town called -Hewittson, on the Central Road, about fifty miles back in the woods, -southwest of here. It's the terminal of a branch line, and it's the -nearest point.” - -“Even then he would have to go through Detroit or Michigan City, where -we _have_ men.” - -“No, he wouldn't. He could get over to the Grand Rapids and Indiana with -a few changes and without passing through a single big town. When he -once got down there in Indiana, you would have a pretty vigorous time -catching him.” - -Beveridge mused. “This is all very interesting, Smiley, but it is hardly -enough to act on.” - -“Isn't it, though? What earthly good could you do on the water that -Captain Sullivan couldn't do just as well without you? There he is with -his men, and he ought to do what you tell him.” - -“I don't know about that,” said Beveridge, with a smile. - -“Anyhow,” Dick went on eagerly, “the old _Foote_ isn't going to make any -more miles an hour for having you on board.” - -“There's something in that. You seem to be keen on this business.” - -“Keen! Good Lord, man! don't you see the position I'm in? Don't you see -that my only chance is to help you run this down and get at the facts? -Honest, I don't see what you could lose by taking a flier overland to -Hewittson. It's just one more chance opened up for you, and you ought to -take it.” - -“How did you happen to know so much about these railroads up here?” - -“You didn't suppose I had my eyes shut when I was looking at that chart -the other day, did you?” - -“It seems to me you took in a lot in a thundering short time.” - -“Of course I did. It is my business to take in a lot when I look at a -chart.” - -“Well, this is interesting, Smiley. I 'll think it over. Come on, boys.” - -The sailors rowed them back to the steamer; and the special agent -was promptly closeted with Captain Sullivan. He laid out the whole -situation, suggesting that the Captain keep a close watch on the Burnt -Cove region and that he leave a launch at Spencer's. The fugitives -had left nearly all they had, even to clothing, behind, and it was -conceivable that they might return. - -“I wish,” he added, as he rose to go, “that I could call on the county -authorities. Wilson and I may have our hands full if we meet them.” - -“You think you'd better not?” - -“Hardly. It is even chances that they are mixed up in the business some -way. Spencer has known them longer than we have.” - -He left the Captain's stateroom, and found Smiley waiting for him by -the wheel-house. “There's one thing I didn't say when we were talking,” - began the prisoner, looking with some hesitation at the agent. - -“What's that, Smiley? Speak up. I'm starting now.” - -“You're going to try it, then?” - -“Yes.” - -“Will you take Pink and me with you?” - -Beveridge straightened up and flashed a keen, inquiring glance through -Dick's eyes, down to the bottom of his soul. Dick met it squarely. - -“By Jove!” said Beveridge. - -Not a word said Smiley. - -“By Jove! I 'll do it!” - -Dick turned away, limp. - -“Smiley!” - -He turned back. - -“Where's Harper?” - -“Down below.” - -“Bring him to my stateroom. Be quick about it.” - -A very few moments more, and Dick and Harper knocked at the special -agent's door. - -“Come in.” - -They entered, and found Beveridge and Wilson together. Beveridge closed -the door, and there the four men stood, crowded together in the narrow -space. Beveridge gave them another of his sharp glances, then he drew -from his coat pockets two revolvers and held them out, one in each hand. - -Dick and Pink looked speechless. - -“Well, take 'em. You boys are to help me see this thing through, now.” - -“Do you--do you mean that?” - -“I don't joke with pistols.” - -Without more words each reached out. Dick thrust his into his hip -pocket; but Pink opened his and looked at the loaded cylinder. - -“Now, boys,” said Beveridge, “we're off.” Wilson descended first to the -launch, and Dick was about to follow when Captain Sullivan hurried up -and caught his arm. “Here, here! This won't do!” - -Dick turned, and started to speak; then, seeing that Beveridge was -approaching, he waited. - -“That's all right, Captain,” called the special agent; “let him go.” - -“Let him go!” - -Beveridge drew the Captain aside. - -“You aren't going to take him ashore with you?” - -“Yes, both of 'em.” - -Anger was struggling with disgust in the Captain's face. “You'd better -hand 'em revolvers and be done with it.” - -“I've done that already.” - -“Oh, you _have!_” - -“Yes, sir. And I don't mind telling you that, guilty or not, there -aren't two men I'd feel safer with in the Southern Peninsula.” - -“Oh, there _ain't!_” A feeble reply, but the old Captain was beyond -words. “Very well,” was all he could get out, “very well!” - -With that they parted; and the boat, with the strangely selected party -aboard, made for the shore. - -“Now, Smiley,” said Beveridge, when the boat had left them on the sand, -“how about our direction?” - -“Exactly southwest from here. I suppose we shall have to make for -Hewittson in a straight line, and see if we can't get there first.” - A sort of road led off in a southwesterly direction, and this they -followed for an hour. Then it swung off to the left, and they plunged -into the forest, from now on to be guided only by the compass. The -afternoon wore along. For two hours, three hours, four hours, they -tramped through the forest, which now opened out into a vista of brown -carpet and cool shade, now ran to a blackened jungle of stumps and -undergrowth; but always underfoot was the sand, no longer white but -yellow and of a dustlike quality. It gave under the foot at every step; -it rose about them and got into their throats and finally into their -tempers. - -“Say, Smiley,” called Wilson. He had swung his coat over his shoulder; -his face was streaked with sweat and dirt; the spring was gone from his -stride. “Say, Smiley, where are those streams you were talking about?” - -“Give it up.” - -“This is a pretty place you're getting us into.” - -“Shut up, Bert!” said Beveridge. “You tend to business, and quit -talking.” - -“Who's talking? Can't I ask a civil question?” - -“From the sound, I guess you can't.” - -“You're saying a word too much there, Bill Beveridge!” - -Beveridge stopped short and wheeled around. He had tied the sleeves -of his coat through one suspender so that it hung about his knees and -flapped when he walked. His waistcoat was open, his collar was melted to -a rag; altogether he was nearly as tired and hot as his assistant. - -“What do you say to sitting down a minute?” suggested Smiley, -diplomatically. - -But Wilson returned to the attack. “How long are you going to keep on -this way, Bill?” - -The obstinate quality in Wilson's voice roused a counter-obstinacy in -Beveridge. He decided not to reply. - -“Maybe the sand's getting into his ears so he can't hear well,” said -Wilson, addressing Harper as nearly as anybody. But Pink, rather than -get into the controversy, went off a little way to a spruce tree and -fell to cutting off a piece of the gum. - -“It's just as you like, Bill,” pursued Wilson. “Of course, it ain't -any of my business,--but I just thought I'd tell you we passed that big -clump of pines over there about two hours and a half ago.” - -In spite of him, Beveridge's eyes sought the spot indicated. - -“I don't care, you understand, Bill. I 'll go where I'm ordered. But if -you _will_ go on trusting that compass of yours, don't you think maybe -we'd better be thinking about saving up what sandwiches we've got left? -These Michigan woods _ain't_ a very cheerful spot to spend the fall, -unless you've planned that way, you know,--brought tents and things, and -maybe a little canned stuff.” - -“Oh, go to----!” muttered Beveridge, without turning. - -“What's that you said?” Wilson was on his feet. - -Here Smiley broke in with the suggestion that they try marking trees. - -And for an hour they were tearing their shirts to strips, and sighting -forward from tree to tree; then the early twilight began to settle on -the forest. They spoke of it no more, but pushed on feverishly under the -leadership of Beveridge, whose spirits, which had reached low-water mark -in the difference with Wilson, were flowing again. From rapid walking -they took to running; still the twilight deepened. Finally the uneven -ground and the deep shadows led them into scratches and tumbles, and -they were obliged to stop. - -“Bill,” said Wilson, “look over there.” - -“Where?” - -“That tree--runs up six feet or so, and shoots off over the ground, and -then turns square up again.” - -“Yes. What about it?” A queer sound was creeping into the special -agent's voice. - -“Don't you remember--about three o'clock--the tree we passed? Harper -said it was exactly like a figure four, because of the broken part that -stuck up above the branch,--and you said--” - -“Well, but--” - -“Just take a good look at it.” - -Beveridge stepped a little way forward and looked and looked. - -“Well?” - -Beveridge was silent. His eyes left the tree only to fix themselves on -the ground. - -“What do you think, Bill?” - -Instead of replying, the special agent turned abruptly and walked away -through the brush. He soon disappeared, but his assistant could hear him -thrashing along. In a few moments he returned, and without a word set -about building a fire. They all lent a hand, and soon were sitting -around the blaze, moody and silent. - -“Say, boys,”--it was Smiley speaking up,--“I have an idea. Let me take -your compass a minute, Beveridge.” - -There was no reply. Smiley thought he had not been understood. “Let's -have your compass, Beveridge.” - -Then the special agent looked up. “If you can find it, you're welcome to -it,” he said. “Why, you haven't lost it?” - -“If you've got to know, I've thrown it.” - -“The------you have!” - -A moment's silence. Somewhere off in the wilderness a twig crackled, and -they all started. Harper's scalp tingled during the long stillness that -followed the sound. - -“What did you do that for?” asked Smiley. “Because we're sitting at -this moment within a hundred feet of where we sat at three o'clock this -afternoon.” - -After this the silence grew unbearable. “I don't know how you fellows -feel,” said Wilson, “but I'm thirsty clear down to my toes. If there's -any water around here, I'm going to find it.” He drew a blazing pine -knot from the fire and started off. - -“Look out you don't set the woods afire,” growled Beveridge. - -For five minutes--long minutes--the three sat there and waited. Then -they heard him approaching, and saw his light flickering between the -trees. He came into the firelight, and paused, looking from one to -another with a curious expression. It almost seemed that he was veiling -a smile. - -“Come this way,” he finally said. And they got up and filed after him. -He led them a short fifty yards, and paused. They stood on the edge of a -clearing. A few rods away they saw a story-and-a-half farm-house, with -a light in the kitchen window. Farther off loomed the outline of a large -barn. They stumbled on, and found midway between the two buildings a -well with a bucket worked by a crank and chain. - -They could not speak; they looked at one another and grinned foolishly. -Then Beveridge reached for the crank, but Dick caught his arm. - -“Hold on there, Bill,” he said fervently, drawing a small flask from his -hip pocket, “you wouldn't spoil a thirst like this with water?” - -“You don't mean to say that you've had this in your clothes all along?” - said Beveridge. - -“Yes. I thought from the way things were going we might need it more -to-morrow than to-day.” - -There was a general smacking of lips as the flask went around. Then they -paused and looked at the house. - -“Well,” observed Beveridge, “I'm not sure that I want to be told where -we are--but here goes!” And he walked slowly toward the kitchen door, -sweeping his eyes about the farmyard and taking in all that could -be seen in the darkness. At his knock there was a noise in the -kitchen,--the sound of a chair scraping,--and the door was opened a very -little way. - -“How are you?” began the special agent. - -The farmer, for it was he who blocked the doorway, merely looked -suspiciously out. - -“We're a camping party, Mr.--Mr.--” - -“Lindquist's my name.” His voice was thin and peevish, a fit voice for -such a thin, small man. - -“--Mr. Lindquist, and we seem to have lost our way. Can you take us in -and give us a little something to eat?” - -“Why, I don't know's I could. How many is there of you?” - -“Four.” - -“You say you're campers?” - -“That's what we are.” - -“Is your tent near by?” - -“Blest if we know. If we did, we shouldn't be here.” - -It was plain to the three of them, standing back in the dark, that -Beveridge, for reasons of his own, was moving very cautiously, and -equally plain that the little man had some reason for being cautious -too. It was hard to think that any honest farmer, living so lonely a -life, would be so downright inhospitable. - -“And you say you want something to - -“Well, now,”--there was no trace of impatience in the special agent's -voice,--“that's just as you like. We don't want to impose on you; and of -course we're more than willing to pay for what we get.” - -“Well, I dunno. I s'pose you might come in. Maybe we've got a little -bread and milk.” - -The kitchen was not a large room. The floor was bare, as were the -walls, saving a few county-fair advertisements in the form of colored -lithographs. A thin, colorless, dulleyed little woman was seated beside -a pine table, sewing by the light of a kerosene lamp. The third member -of the family, a boy of fourteen, did not appear until a moment later. -When the sound of the opening door reached his ears, he was lying flat -on his bed, chin propped on hands, feverishly boring through a small -volume in a flashy paper binding. - -Beveridge, as they all found seats, was taking in the farmer, noting his -shifting eyes, and his clothes, which were nothing more than a suit of -torn overalls. - -“Diana,” said Lindquist, “you might give these young men some bread and -milk.” - -His wife laid aside her sewing without a word, and went to the pantry. - -“Now,” began Beveridge, “I suppose we ought to find out where we are.” - -“What's that?” - -“Where are we, Mr. Lindquist? What's the nearest town?” - -“The nearest town, you said?” - -“Yes.” - -“Why, Ramsey, I guess, or--” - -“Or--what?” - -“Or--Spencer's place.” - -“That's what I was afraid of.” Beveridge turned to his companions, -adding, “You see, we've got back near the lake.” - -At the sound of strange voices, the boy came down the stairs and stood -in a corner, gazing at the strangers, and holding his book behind him. - -“How far off is the Lake, Mr. Lindquist?” - -“How--what's that you say?” - -“How far off is the Lake?” - -“What Lake?” - -“Lake Huron, of course.” - -“Lake Huron?--Oh, twenty,--twenty-two mile.” - -“That's another story!” exclaimed Wilson. But Beveridge, evidently -fearing his assistant's tongue, gave him a look that quieted him. The -faces of the four travellers all showed relief. - -The bread and milk were ready now, and they fell to, joking and laughing -as heartily as if their only care had been a camp outfit somewhere in -the woods; but all the time the three were watching Beveridge, awaiting -his next move. It came, finally, when the last crumb of bread had -disappeared and the plates had been pushed back. - -“Now, Mr. Lindquist,” said Beveridge, “it's getting on pretty late in -the evening, and we're tired. Can't you put us up for the night? Not in -the house--I'd hardly ask that--but out in the barn, say?” As he spoke -he laid a two-dollar bill on the table and pushed it over close to the -farmer's hand. - -“Well, I dunno.” For a moment the bill lay there between their two -hands, then Lindquist's nervous fingers slowly closed over it. “I -suppose you could sleep out there.” - -“That's first-rate. We 'll go right out if you don't mind. You needn't -bother about coming. Just let your boy there bring a lantern and show us -where to go.” - -Lindquist did not take to this. “Axel,” he said, “you go up to bed. -Mind, now!” Then he lighted the lantern and led the way to the barn. -When he had left them, tumbled about on the fragrant hay, Smiley spoke -up. “Well, Beveridge, what next?” - -“Didn't he lock the door just then?” - -“Yes,” said Harper, “I'm sure I heard it. I 'll go and see.” - -Slowly he descended, and felt his way across the floor, returning with -the report that the door was fast. - -“Now, boys, I 'll tell you,” said Beveridge. “We 'll take a little rest. -It's all right as long as one of us is awake. Before the night's over -we've got to get hold of that boy, but we won't make a disturbance yet.” - -“Oh,” cried Dick, a flood of light breaking in on his understanding, -“it's the boy you're after.” - -“Yes, it's the boy, of course. I've had to sit down a good many times in -my life and thank the Lord for my luck, but this beats it all.” - -“Are you sure, though, that they went through here?” - -“Am I sure? Could you look at the old man and ask me that? What I'd like -to know is how far off they are just now.” - -“Lindquist doesn't look as if he'd tell.” - -“Oh, no; _he_ won't tell.” - -“Would it do any good to make him?” - -“Put on a little pressure, you mean?” - -“Yes.” - -“I don't think so. He'd lie to me, and we wouldn't have any way of -knowing the difference. The boy is our game.” - -“Why not get him now? We could break out of here easy enough.” - -“No, Smiley, you're a little off the track there. He must tell us on the -sly. Don't you see, he's a good deal more afraid of his father than he -is of us. If we aren't careful, we 'll have him lying too.” - -“Have you thought of the old lady?” - -“Yes, but I'm doubtful there. She is afraid of him too. It's more than -likely that she was kept pretty much out of the way. Anyhow, her ideas -would be confused.” - -“But sitting up here in the haymow isn't going to bring us any nearer to -the boy.” - -“Isn't it?” - -“I don't see how.” - -“Did you notice the book he was reading?” - -“No, what book? I didn't see any book.” - -“I guess maybe you were right, Smiley, about your eyes being trained for -sea work. Now, I 'll tell you what. This little rest may be the only one -we're entitled to for a day or so, and I wish you fellows would curl -right up and go to sleep. I'm going to stay awake for a while. Harper, -over there, is the only sensible one in the lot. He's been asleep for -ten minutes.” - -“No, he ain't,” drawled a sleepy voice. - -“I can't get comfortable,” growled Wilson. “How is a man going to sleep -with this hay sticking into your ears and tickling you?” - -“Next time I take you out, Bert,” said Beveridge, “I 'll bring along a -pneumatic mattress and a portable bath-tub and a Pullman nigger to carry -your things.” - -“That's all right, Bill. Wait till you try it yourself. There are -spiders in the hay, millions of 'em,--and if there's anything I hate, -it's spiders.” - -“Here,” said Harper, “take some o' my pillow. I ain't having no -difficulty.” He threw over a roll of cloth, which Wilson, after some -feeling about, found. - -“Hold on, Harper, this isn't your coat?” - -“No, it's part of a bundle of rags I found here.” - -“What's that!” Beveridge exclaimed. “A bundle of rags?” - -“Feels like part of an old dress,” said Wilson. - -“Give it here, Bert. I 'll take what you've got too, Harper.” With the -cloth under his arm Beveridge found the ladder and made his way to the -floor below. Then he lighted a match. - -The others crawled to the edge of the mow and looked down into the -cavernous, dimly lighted space. - -“Look out you don't set us afire, Bill.” - -“Come down here, Smiley, and see what you make of this.” - -It was not necessary to summon Dick twice. He swung off, hung an instant -by his hands, dropped to the floor, and bent with the special agent -over what seemed to be the waist and skirt of a gingham dress. The -examination grew so interesting that Harper and Wilson came down the -ladder and peered over Dick's shoulders. - -“You see,” said Beveridge,--“here, wait till I light another match. Take -this box, Bert, will you, and keep the light going? You see, it isn't an -old dress at all. It's rather new, in fact. Mrs. Lindquist would never -have thrown it away--never in the world. Now what in the devil--what's -that, Smiley?” - -“I didn't say anything. I was just thinking--” - -“Well--what?” - -“I don't know that I could swear to it, but--you see, you can't tell the -color very well in this light.” - -[Illustration: 0287] - -“Oh, it's blue, plain enough.” - -“You're sure?” - -“Perfectly.” - -“Looks nearer green to me. But if it's blue, I've seen it before.” - -“Where?” - -“The day I was at Spencer's. There was a girl there, the old man's -sister-in-law, and she wore this dress.” - -“Are you perfectly sure, Smiley?” - -“Well--dresses aren't in my line, but--yes, I'm sure. I noticed it -because her eyes were blue too--and there was this white figure in it. -Her name is Estelle. She waited on table, and--” - -“Go on--don't stop.” - -“Wait up,” said Wilson. “If you've got it identified, I'm going to quit -burning up these matches. There are only about half a dozen left.” - -“All right. Put it out.” And they talked on in the dark, seated, Dick -and Beveridge on the tongue of a hay-wagon, Wilson on an inverted -bucket, Harper on the floor. - -“Why, she waited on table; and then McGlory disappeared and I had to go -after him, and I found him talking to her--” - -“Hold on!” Beveridge broke in. “You say you found her and McGlory -together?” - -“Yes. I guess we're thinking of the same thing. From the way they both -acted, I rather guess it's an understood thing. It wasn't as if he had -met her there by chance, not a bit of it. And I've been thinking since, -it seems more than likely that she would go wherever he went.” - -“That's right!” Beveridge exclaimed. “I'm sure of it. I know a little -something about it myself.” - -“You do?” - -“Yes. This McGlory has left a wife behind him in Chicago.” - -“Madge, you mean?” - -“Yes. The main reason he took up the offer to go out with you, Smiley, -was so he could get up here and see this--what's her name?--Estelle.” - -“So there is more than a fighting chance that where she is you 'll find -him.” - -“Exactly.” - -“And that means that he has been here to-day.” - -“Right again.” - -“Then who sailed the schooner for Canada?” - -Harper, leaning forward in the dark and straining to catch every -syllable of the low-pitched conversation, here gave a low gasp of sheer -excitement. There had been moments--hours, even--during the day when -the object of this desperate chase had seemed a far-off, imaginary thing -beside the real discomforts of the tramp through the pines. But now, in -this sombre place, they were plunged into the mystery of the flight, and -he had been the unwitting means of deepening the mystery. - -“That sort of mixes us up, Beveridge,” said Smiley. - -“Never mind.” Beveridge's voice was exultant. “We're hot on the trail -now. This taking to the woods is about the neatest thing I ever did.” - -“You're right there, Bill,” Wilson chimed in. - -Until now Dick had supposed that the land chase had been entirely his -own notion, but he said nothing. - -“Look here, Bill,”--it was Wilson breaking the silence,--“there isn't -any use of our trying to sleep to-night. Let's break out and run this -thing down.” - -“How are you going to know your way in the middle of the night?” - -“Make 'em show us.” - -“Suppose you can't make them?” - -“I know--you're still thinking about that boy. But we are no nearer him -than we were an hour ago.” - -“Listen a minute!” - -They sat motionless. There was no sound; nothing but the heavy stillness -of the night. - -Wilson whispered, “Think you heard something?” - -“S-sh!” - -A key turned softly in the lock. Then the door opened a little way, -and against the sky they could see a head. Wilson drew his revolver. -Beveridge heard the hammer click, and said quietly, “Don't be a fool, -Bert. Put that thing back in your pocket.” - -“Are you's in there?” came a voice from the door. - -“Yes. Come along.” - -The door opened wider to admit the owner of the voice, then closed. -A moment later a lantern was lighted and held up before the grinning, -excited face of the farmer's son. - -“Come on, Alex. What do you want?” - -The boy slowly approached until he stood before them; then he set the -lantern on the floor, where it cast long shadows. - -“What is it, my boy?” - -Axel looked knowingly at them. “Say,” he whispered, “I know what you's -are. You're detectives.” - -“Oh, we are, are we? What makes you think that?” - -“You're detectives. I know.” - -“Sit down, and talk it over. Do you smoke?” - -“Can I smoke? Well, I should say I can. You just watch me.” He accepted -a cigar, his first, and lighted it. “Don't let on to Pa, will you? He'd -give me--” Unable to call up a strong enough word, the boy concluded -with a grin. - -“That's all right. We know how it is ourselves. Your father has enough -to worry him just about now, anyhow. Didn't he have but the one suit of -clothes?” - -“Well, there was his old everyday suit, but that got tore so bad Ma said -she couldn't mend it, and there wasn't only his Sunday suit and his work -clothes left.” - -“You don't mean that he had to fight with those fellows?” - -“Oh, no,--that was a long time ago. Say, this cigar is the real thing.” - -“It ought to be good. It's a fifteen-cent-straight.” - -“_You_ don't say so!” - -“I 'll tell you one thing, Alex.” - -“My name's Axel.” - -“I 'll tell you one thing. Your father has made a bad mistake in allowing -himself to get mixed up with these people. He is with the wrong crowd. -I'm the only one that could help him out.” - -The boy began to be frightened. “Oh, he ain't mixed up in it!” - -“He isn't?” - -“No. He never seen 'em before.” - -“What does he want to act this way for, then?” - -“Well, you see--” - -“Now look here, my boy. The sooner we understand each other, the better. -Your father has got himself into a dangerous situation. He can't deceive -me. I know all about it. Does he think he could keep me in here any -longer than I want to stay by locking the door? I'm half minded to -arrest him for this. He can't do that sort o' thing to me!” - -Axel was downright frightened now. He held his cigar so long that it -went out. Wilson struck a match, and lighted it for him. - -“I suppose you would like me to believe that he was forced to give up -his clothes?” - -“Oh, he was! The fellow with the black hair--” - -“McGlory?” - -“Seems to me they called him Joe.” - -“That's the same man. Go on.” - -“Why, he pulled a gun, and marched Pa out here to the barn. Ma ran -upstairs crying. And the lady, she was crying, too. And the dark fellow, -he made the lady climb up where you was, on the hay--” - -“Yes, I know,” Beveridge interrupted, indicating the dress. - -“And then he held the gun while Pa took off his Sunday suit that he'd -put on because he thought they was going to be visitors, and he threw it -up to the lady, and she put it on. One of the suspenders was busted, and -she didn't know how it worked, and she cried, and then Pa had to holler -up how he'd fixed it with a string and you twisted the string around -twice and then tied it. And then the dark fellow, he made me run in and -get Pa his overhauls.” - -“So they changed clothes right here, eh?” - -“Yes, and the lady cried, and when she'd got all dressed in Pa's -clothes, why, she just said she wouldn't come down. And Joe, he said she -would, or he'd know the reason why. Then the others laughed some--” - -“_The others!_” - -“Yes, and they--” - -“Hold on! How many were there in this party?” - -“Why, three or four, counting in the lady.” - -“Three or four! Don't you know?” - -“Well, you see, I didn't think about counting 'em then. What was I -saying?” - -“You said the others laughed.” - -“Oh, yes. Not very much, you know,--just a little. Then the boss, he -said--” - -“What sort of a looking man was this boss?” - -“I dunno.” - -“Didn't you see him?” - -“Oh, well, I--” - -“What was it he said this time?” - -“Oh,--he said something to Joe about not getting excited. I guess he -thought he was kind o' mean to the lady. Anyhow, she come down after a -little and kind o' stood around behind things. She was frightened some, -I guess. And then they all went off.” - -“Which way?” - -“I dunno. They told us we hadn't better watch 'em, and so I thought -maybe I wouldn't.” - -“Was that the last you saw of them?” - -“Well--not quite.” - -“Not quite! What else?” - -“Before they'd gone very far, the boss came back.” - -“Oh, he did?” - -“And he told Pa he guessed Joe was a little excited, and they hadn't -meant to be hard on him. And so he gave Pa a little money for his -trouble.” - -“I thought you said your father wasn't mixed up with them.” - -“He ain't. Not a bit.” - -“But you say he took their money?” - -“What else could he do? They ain't the sort o' men you'd want to argue -with.” - -“There is something in that. But why did he try to lock us in here?” - -“I dunno.” - -“Oh, you don't.” - -“No, but--I 'll tell you. Pa's rattled.” - -“I shouldn't wonder.” - -“He come up to my room just after he'd been out here with you, and -says if I ever said a word about it, it would land the whole family in -state's prison. That ain't so, is it?” - -“Well, I'm not prepared to say.” - -The cigar was out again. “Oh, say, now, it wasn't his fault. He didn't -do nothing but what they made him do.” - -“Of course, the fact that he helped them under compulsion might be -considered in a court of law, but I'm not prepared to say that it -mightn't go hard with you all. I 'll do what I can to get you out of it, -but it's a bad scrape. What direction is Hewittson from here?” - -“Off that way. There's a road 'most all the way.” - -“That's first-rate. I want you to go with us.” - -“When?” - -“Now.” - -“Oh, Pa--he wouldn't let me--” - -“But I tell you to come.” - -“Would it help us any in getting off?” - -“I might be able to make it easier if you really give me valuable -assistance.” - -“We 'll have to get away pretty quiet.” - -“Very well.” Beveridge was rolling up the blue dress into a small -bundle. “All ready, Bert--Smiley?” - -“All right here.” - -“Put out your light, Axel.” - -They stepped cautiously outside, and the boy locked the door behind -them. “Hold on,” he whispered; “don't go around that way. Pa ain't -asleep, never in the world!” - -“Which way shall we go?” - -“Here--after me--through the cow-yard.” They slipped around behind the -barn, made a short detour through the edge of the forest, and reached -the road beyond the house. - -“Does this road run both ways, Axel?” Beveridge asked. - -“Yes, from Hewittson to Ramsey.” - -“Do you hear that, Smiley? We must have been within a few hundred yards -of it most of the way.” - -“Never mind, we 'll make better time now, anyhow.” - -They pushed on, indeed, rapidly for half a mile, guided by the lantern, -which Axel had relighted. Then the boy, overcome by the tobacco, had to -be left, miserably sick, in a heap by the roadside. Beveridge snatched -the lantern from his heedless fingers, thrust a bill into his pocket by -way of payment, and the party pushed on. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--THURSDAY NIGHT--VAN DEELEN'S BRIDGE - - -[Illustration: 0302] - -THE stars were shining down on the stream that passed sluggishly under -Van Deelen's bridge, but they found no answering twinkle there. A gloomy -stream it was, winding a sort of way through the little farm, coming -from--somewhere, off in the pines; going to--somewhere, off in the -pines; brown by day, black by night; the only silent thing in the -breathing, crackling forest. It seemed to come from the north, gliding -out from under the green-black canopy with a little stumble of white -foam, as if ashamed in the light of the clearing. Then, sullen as -ever, it settled back, slipped under the bridge--where the road from -Lindquist's swung sharply down--with never a swirl, and gave itself -up to the pines and hemlocks that bent over. Behind the barn-yard it -circled westward, and paralleled the road for a few hundred yards, as if -it, too, were bound for Hewittson; but changed its mind, turned sharply -south, and was gone. Whither? The muskrats and minks perhaps could tell. - -The clearing, in spite of the house and barn, was desolate; the pines -were pressing irresistibly in on every side to claim the land Dirck van -Deelen had stolen from them. The road, after crossing the bridge, lost -itself in the confused tracks between house and barn, only to reappear -on the farther side and plunge again into the forest,--a weary, yellow -road, telling of miles of stump land as well as of the fresher forest. - -It was late, very late, but there was a light in the house. A woman, -in man's clothing, lay on the parlor sofa, too tired to rest. She was -white; her breath came hard; her eyes were too bright. McGlory stood -over her with a pair of scissors in his hand. He had cut off her long -hair, and now it lay curling on the floor. - -“Here, you,”--he was speaking to Van Deelen,--“get a broom and take that -up. Be quick about it. What are you gawking at?” - -Van Deelen, slow of movement and slower of thought, obeyed. - -“Now,” said McGlory to the woman, “come along!” And he took her arm. - -“Oh, no, Joe! I can't go! It will kill me!” - -“Cut that--get up!” - -Roche, who had been eating in the next room, came in, looked at them, -and then hurried out, where the leader of the party awaited him. - -“Aren't they 'most ready?” - -“Yes--coming right along--if it don't kill her.” - -But when they heard a step and turned, only the woman appeared in the -doorway. - -“Where's Joe, Estelle?” - -“He--he's coming.” She staggered. Roche caught her, helped her down the -steps, and with his arm about her waist led her out to the road. “He -says to go along, and he 'll catch us.” She was plucky, or frightened, -for she staggered along biting her lip. - -This was what McGlory had said to Van Deelen after he had got her to the -door: “Give me some paper and a pen--quick!” - -They were promptly placed on the diningroom table; and he scrawled off -a few lines, folded the paper, and looked up with a scowl. The strain of -the week had not improved his expression. “Give me an envelope; I want -you to mail this for me.” - -“I haven't got one.” - -“The------you haven't!” - -“Honest--that's the truth. I'd have to go to Hewittson, anyway. It 'll be -quicker for you to take--” - -“Oh, shut up. I'm sick o' your voice. Here, take this.” He thrust the -letter into his pocket and counted out twenty-five dollars in bills. -“This is for you. And mind, nothing said. You don't know us--never seen -four men coming through here in the night. Don't remember ever having -seen four men come through. Understand?” - -Van Deelen drew back a step, and nodded. “No mistake about this now. If -you say a word, the world ain't big enough to hide you.” His hand -was straying toward a significant pocket. “None of your hemmings and -haw-ings--if you're in a hurry to get to heaven, just give us away. -Understand?” - -Another nod,--all the farmer was capable of; and McGlory was gone with -a bound, out the door, on toward the little group at the farther side of -the clearing. - -They heard his step and his loud breathing. “What's this?” He had just -made out Roche's arm across Estelle's back. “What's _this?_” He tore the -arm away, whirled Roche around, and slapped his face so hard that he---- - -“By------!” gasped Roche. “By------!” - -They glared at each other; Estelle sobbed. “Try that again, Joe McGlory! -Just try it! Hit me again! Why, you--why, I 'll break your neck!” - -“_You_ will?” - -“Yes, I will. Just hit me again!” - -McGlory looked him over, decided to accept the invitation, and plunged -forward. Roche, without a moment's hesitation, turned and bolted up the -road,--ran as if the fiends were on his heels. McGlory finally stopped, -laughed viciously, and hurled a curse after him. - -The third man let them go; he merely took Estelle's arm and helped her -along, soothing her a little, trying to calm the outburst of hysteria -that had been threatening for twenty-four hours. McGlory waited for -them in the shadow of the woods; and a little farther on Roche fell in -behind, muttering softly, and keeping well away from McGlory. - -Estelle could hardly stagger along. McGlory passed his arm through hers -and dragged her forward. Now she was silent, now she stifled a sob, now -she begged piteously to be left behind. “Let me go back to Van Deelen's, -Joe--please! I can't go on.” - -“I thought you was such a walker.” - -“Oh, but--not so far as this. Let me go back there.” - -“Wouldn't that be smart, now! To leave you where you could blab the -whole thing!” She tried to walk a few steps farther; then she broke -away, stumbled to the roadside, and, sinking to the ground, covered her -face with her hands. - -Roche stopped short and stared at her. The other spoke up: “This won't -do, Joe. There's no use killing her. We 'll drop back in the woods and -take a rest. We 'll all be better for it.” - -McGlory sullenly consented. He dragged Estelle off through the -undergrowth to the clearer ground under the trees, and they all -stretched out. In five minutes Roche was the only one awake of the -three men. Without raising his head he slipped over close to Estelle and -rested his hand on her shoulder. She rolled over with a start. “S-sh! -Not so loud, Estelle.” - -“Oh, it's you?” - -“Yes. You didn't think I'd forgot, did you, Estelle?” - -“I--I don't understand.” - -“Don't you think it's time to quit 'em? What's the use? I guess you know -him now for what he is.” - -“Yes, he's mean to me. But--” - -“Don't you see--we can skip out and leave 'em here, and go back near the -house and hide. He wouldn't dast come back after us. The boss wouldn't -never let him.” - -“Do you think we could? I'm afraid. He wouldn't stop at anything.” - -“You just leave it to me. I can take care o' _him:_” - -“I--I'm afraid. He's so determined. And I told him I'd go with him.” - -“What was he a-doin' back there in the house after he sent you out?” - -“I don't know.” - -“Not so loud--whisper. Didn't you hear him say anything?” - -“He asked for a pen and paper.” - -“Must 'a' wrote a letter. There it is--look there--sticking out of his -pocket. Wait a minute.” - -“Don't you try to take it. He 'll shoot you.” - -“Oh, damn him! I ain't afraid of two Joe McGlorys. Lemme go.” He crept -over, drew out the letter skilfully, and returned. “I don't like to -strike a match here--” - -“Oh, no, no--don't!” - -“Can you crawl off a little ways--behind them bushes?” - -“I guess so; I 'll try.” He helped her. “S-sh--careful.” - -Behind the bushes they felt safer. Roche lighted a match and held up the -paper. This is what they read:-- - -“Dear Madge: There's a little misunderstanding up this way and I can't -get back for a little while I want some money you put the bills in a -envelope to generel dilivry South Bend Indiana. Don't you try to come to -me because it ain't a very pleasent situation I 'll tell you later where -to come don't forget the money and don't you put my name on it call me -Joe Murphy. Burn this soon as you read it. - -“J.” - -Neither saw the insolent brutality of this letter; their thoughts were -elsewhere. Estelle gazed, thunderstruck. Roche held the match until it -burned his finger. As he dropped it and the paper to the ground, and the -dark closed in again, one of the sleepers tossed and mumbled. Estelle -caught his arm. - -“He told me it wasn't so,” she whispered. “He told me it wasn't so.” - -“Oh, he's just a common, everyday liar. Madge is his wife. Didn't I tell -you so the first day I come to Spencer's?” - -“I don't know. What can we do? Do you think we could get away?” - -“Sure thing.” - -“But how?” - -“We 'll sneak back a ways and off to one side in the woods. He can't come -back and search the whole county for us. Don't you see?” - -“But wouldn't _they_ catch us?” She glanced toward the east, whence -pursuit might come. - -“Not a bit of it. Just trust me. Come on--now's the time. Move cautious -till we get on the road.” - -He helped her up, and they stole away. For a few moments she was buoyed -up by this new excitement, but soon fell back into the old weariness. -She clung to Roche until he was almost carrying her. “Keep a-going,” he -whispered. “I 'll skip back to the house and pick up something to eat, -and then we 'll take to the woods. They can't never catch me, I tell you. -_I 'll_ fool 'em.” - -They struggled along. Halfway back to the farm-house Estelle completely -lost heart. “I can't do it!” she moaned. “Stop--let me sit down.” - -“Not here, Estelle! Not in the road!” - -“Let me down, I tell you!” - -“But he may be along any minute.” - -“I don't care. Let me down.” - -“Look here, Estelle, can't you see how it is? If he gets you, he 'll half -kill you. And you 'll have to walk farther with him than you would with -me.” - -She was beyond reason. She clung around his neck, holding herself up -even while she begged to be let down. Her condition and the terrible -loneliness of the night were unnerving Roche. “Come along,” he said -angrily, “or I 'll make you come!” - -“Don't hurt me!” - -“By------! Don't you say another word!” - -He jerked her roughly forward, while his wild eyes sought the road -behind. - -“You said you'd be good to me!” - -“Well, ain't I good to you? Ain't I saving your life, and you haven't -got the sense to see it?” - -“O dear! Don't--” - -“Keep still, now--come on--Don't you say any more.” - -Soon they reached the clearing, and, pausing for breath in the shadows, -they looked about. The night was far advanced, but a light showed in an -upper window of the house. Over in the barn a horse was thrashing about -his stall; the noise was deafening after the stillness. Roche released -Estelle, and to his horror she sank to the ground in a faint. He spoke -to her--she did not hear. He bent over and shook her, felt her wrist and -her forehead. Then he straightened up and looked back along the road. -His breath came fast and hard; the loneliness was closing in on his -soul. He shivered, though the air was not cold, then stepped back, -mopped the sudden sweat from his face, looked down again at the -woman,--even stirred her with his foot,--then turned and ran. Not down -the road, for the lowbrowed McGlory lay sleeping there; not to the -south, for the stream barred the way; but skirting the clearing to the -northern edge and then plunging into the woods, endlong and overthwart, -with a thousand ugly fancies hounding him, with a traitor in his bosom -that opened the door for the mad thoughts freely to enter and gnaw -there. He tripped on a log, pitched headlong and rolled over, scrambled -up with bleeding hands, and ran on in an ecstasy of fear. And the vast -black forest shut in behind him and swallowed him. - -[Illustration: 0315] - -When Estelle's eyes opened, she returned from peace to wretchedness. -Yes, the trees and the night and the swollen feet were real. She crawled -toward the farm-house; something within her warned her not to try to -rise. She lived months in dragging that hundred yards; the one goal of -life was the low stoop and the door under the light. When she reached -it,--her clothes torn, the dust ground into her face and hands,--she -fainted again, and clung to the steps. - -Dirck van Deelen was sitting at the window with a shot-gun across his -knees. He had watched the--he could not see what it was--crawling to -his door. Now he looked out and saw it lying there. Whatever, whoever it -was, this would not do; so he opened the door and carried her up to the -room where his frightened wife was trying to sleep. - -“We 'll have to take her in, Saskia.” - -“What is the matter? Is she hurt?” - -“I don't know. I found her on the stoop. Help me examine her.” - -But they found no mark of bullet, knife, or blunt instrument. And while -the Dutch woman worked over her, the man went for water. At last she was -brought to a sort of consciousness, and, leaving his wife to care for -her, Van Deelen returned to his window and his gun. - -Roche and Estelle had not been gone an hour when McGlory, haunted by the -fear of pursuit, awoke. He stretched himself, sat up, and looked over to -the spot where Estelle had been lying when he fell asleep. At first he -thought he saw her, a darker shadow, but on rising and walking over he -found no sign of her. He looked about, and called. Roche, too, was not -in sight. He hesitated, not yet fully awake, then turned back and woke -his companion. - -“Well, what's the matter?” - -“They're gone.” - -“Who's gone?” - -“Roche and Estelle.” - -“How do you know? Have you looked around?” - -“Come over here.” - -They prowled behind the trees, parted the bushes here and there, called -as loud as they dared, lighted matches, and examined the ground. Finally -McGlory broke out with an oath: “The little fool! So she thinks she can -serve me this way, eh?” - -“You think they've skipped out?” - -“Think? Do I think it? What do I want to _think_ for? Didn't I see him -a-hugging her?” - -“He was just helping her then.” - -“Oh, just helping her, was he?” - -“Well, what you going to do about it?” - -“What'm I going to do?” McGlory was lashing his anger. His voice swelled -until he was roaring out the words: “What'm I going to do? I'm going -to run that Pete Roche down if I have to go to hell for him! I'm going -to---” - -“Drop your voice, Joe. I can hear you. How're you going to find him?” - -“Who you telling to shut up?” - -“Hold on, now. None o' that talk to me!” - -“Oh, you think you can boss me, do you?” - -“Think? I know it. Don't waste your breath trying to bluff me. I asked -you how you're going to find him.” - -“How'm I going to--how'm I--why, I 'll break his head--I 'll--” - -“Don't work yourself up. It won't help you any.” - -“You think you can talk like that to me? If you ain't careful, I 'll -break _your_ head. I 'll--” - -“How are you going to find him?” - -“You say another word, and I 'll knock your teeth down your throat.” - -“I've got my hand in my pocket, Joe, and I've got a loaded gun in my -hand, and if you threaten me again, I 'll blow a hole through you. I've -half a mind to do it anyway. A fool like you has no business getting -into a scrape if he can't keep his head. I'd a heap rather kill you than -get caught through your fool noise. The sooner you understand me, the -better for you. Now tell me how you're going to find out which way to -take.” - -“How--” McGlory was not a coward, but he could not face down the -seasoned courage of the man before him. “Why--that's a cinch. Ain't he -headed the same way we are?” - -“Now, Joe, hold on. Don't be a bigger fool than you can help. You don't -really think he'd take her right along over this road, do you?” - -“Why--dam' it!” - -“It's no good talking to you if you can't quiet down. You want to kill -Roche, and you're right. I want him killed, too. The longer he's alive, -the more danger for us. But if you go at him this way, he may kill you.” - -“Him! Kill me! Why--” - -“I mean it. He's desperate, too. You can't be too sure that he 'll always -run like he did to-night. He's got Estelle to look out for, too. Now, -it's plain that he hasn't gone down the road, because, look here,--she -isn't good for more than a mile an hour, and he'd have sense enough to -know we'd catch him.” - -“Where is he gone, then?” - -“Not very far--we know that much. Likely they're back here in the woods. -Or maybe they went back to Van Deelen's.” - -“They'd never go there.” - -“They might have to. I guess you don't know much about women, Joe.” - -“I reckon I know more 'n's good for me.” - -“Then you ought to see she's pretty near done for.” - -“Estelle? She's bluffing.” - -“No, she isn't. Not a bit of it. When a woman's worked up and tired out -at the same time, something's likely to break. You were a fool to bring -her, anyhow. I don't know why I let you.” - -“_You! You_ let me!” - -“You said so much about her being strong. Why, she's a child.” - -“Look here, you've said some things tonight that I don't like.” - -“Oh, have I? But this isn't getting us along any. The first thing is to -look around here a little more. There are any number of ways they might -have taken without going down the road.” - -Even McGlory could see the reason in this suggestion. They lighted -matches and prowled about, peering behind trees and bushes, looking -for broken or bent twigs, for any indication of the passage of a human -being. But the heavy growth of trees shut out what light there was -overhead, and neither was skilful enough to direct his search well. - -“Find anything, Joe?” - -“Not a thing. When it comes to sneaking off, Roche has head enough. It's -the only thing he's good for.” - -“The more I think of it, Joe, the more I believe they've gone to the -house.” - -“You're off there.” - -“No, I'm not. Listen a minute. Supposing they started off in the woods -and tried to dodge the house. Pretty soon Estelle gives out--surer than -New Year's. And it would be pretty soon, too, because the excitement -wouldn't keep her up long. Now what is Roche going to do? He isn't the -man to face out a bad situation like that--never in this world. He'd do -one of two things--he would skip out and leave her, or he would get her -to the house. If he skipped, there isn't one chance in a thousand of our -finding either of them. If he took her to the house, we can get one or -both. We can't stay around here much longer. We'd better try the house, -and if they aren't there, or anywhere about the place, we 'll go on -toward Hewittson.” - -“You 'll have to go without me, then.” - -“You think so?” - -“I don't leave this place till I see Roche curled up stiff.” This was -said as quietly as McGlory could say anything, but it was convincing. -The other looked keenly at him. - -Suddenly McGlory, feeling in his pockets, muttered a curse and started -back toward the spot where they had slept. - -“What's up? Lost something?” - -“None of your business!” McGlory was searching the ground feverishly. - -“If you told me what it was, maybe I could help you.” - -No answer. McGlory's temper was rising again. Finding nothing where he -had lain, he began thrashing about the bushes. - -“Unless it's something important, Joe, you're wasting a lot of time.” - -“Well, say--you--you ain't seen a paper--or anything, have you?” - -“A letter?” - -“Not exactly. It wasn't in an envelope.” - -“Oh, you mean this, maybe.” With a lighted match in one hand, he drew -a folded paper from his pocket and started to open it. McGlory sprang -forward, recognized it, and tried to snatch it away. - -“It ain't necessary to read that. It's private business.” - -“I have read it.” - -“You have read it! You've been prying into my affairs, have you?” - -“Not at all. I found this on the ground and read it. You must have -written it back there when you kept us waiting. You had no business to -do it. I never saw such a fool as you are.” As he spoke, he touched the -match to the paper. - -“Here, quit that! Don't you burn that letter!” - -“Now, Joe, you didn't think for a minute I'd let you send this, did -you?” - -“What right you got--” - -“The right of self-preservation. We can't do any letter writing yet -awhile. I 'll help you out with money, but I won't let you do this -sort of thing. Let's start back.” He led the way to the road, McGlory -sullenly following; and side by side they stepped out for the farmhouse. -“Beastly sort of a thing to do, Joe,--ask Madge for money to help you -run off with this woman.” - -“Well, I'd like to know--Ain't she had enough from me--” - -“I don't doubt she has stood a good deal from you. What sort of a woman -is she, Joe?” - -“Madge? Oh, she's all right.” - -“Pretty fond of you, isn't she?” - -“I guess there ain't much doubt about that.” - -“I've noticed her a little.” - -“Oh, you have, have you?” - -“Certainly. What else can you expect, skylarking around this way?” - -“That's all right. A man's got to have his fling. But when it comes -to--” - -“Madge is a fine-looking woman. I don't believe you know how pretty she -is, Joe. If you got her decent clothes, and took her out to the theatre -now and then, so she could keep her spirits up, she would be hard to -beat.” - -This was a new idea to McGlory. But what he said was, “Seems to me -you've done a lot of thinking about my wife.” - -“It's your own fault. But look here, do you think such an awful lot of -Estelle?” - -“Oh, yes. I've had some fun with her. Of course, she ain't the woman -that Madge is.” - -“I was wondering a little--” McGlory's companion paused. - -“What was you wondering?” - -“What you're going to do with Estelle when you find her.” - -“Do with her? Why--why--” - -“You didn't think she'd come right back to you--things the same as they -was before--did you?” - -“Why--” - -“Did she know you had a wife?” - -“Well, no,--she didn't know that.” - -“But she does now. She has read the letter.” - -McGlory had not thought of this. - -“Estelle isn't altogether a fool, you know. Not so bad as Roche--or -you. If I were you, I'd stick to Madge. If you don't, some better fellow -will.” - -“Who do you mean now, for instance?” - -“Never mind who I mean. I don't think you've seen yet how mussy this -business is. Here Estelle is, like enough, on our hands. Now we can't -leave her behind. She wouldn't come along with you; and even if she -would, she isn't strong enough. If we did leave her here, it simply -means that she would be blabbing out the whole story to the first -goodlooking chap that asked her a few questions.” - -“But don't you see? I can't let a man insult me like Roche done.” - -“No, you can't. But if you could fix things so Roche nor nobody could -get her, and still you'd be free to go back to Madge, you wouldn't -object, would you?” - -“Why, no--sure not. How do you mean?” - -“If you find her there at the house, or in the barn, or anywhere around, -you'd better just--here, your knife ain't much good. Take mine.” He -opened his clasp knife--the blade was five inches long--and held it out. - -McGlory took it, stood still in his tracks looking at it, and then -raised his eyes to the face of his companion. - -“Well--have you got the nerve?” - -“Have I got the nerve!” McGlory laughed out loud, and thrust the open -knife into his belt, at the side, under his coat. - -“I wouldn't use a gun unless I had to.” He paused, laid his hand on -McGlory's arm, and dropped his voice. “Look there! There's a light in -the window.” - -McGlory swelled with rage. “I 'll put a stop to this!” - -“Hold on a minute, Joe. I 'll slip around the bank of the creek here, the -other side of the barn, so I can watch the road and the barn both.” - He ran silently away, dodging among the trees, and in a moment had -disappeared. While McGlory was standing there, breathing hard and -twitching impatiently, he passed behind the barn-yard, keeping always -among the trees of the bank, and on to the bridge. Here he looked -carefully around, then stooped under the beams of the bridge flooring -and got into a scow that lay there. - -McGlory stood still as long as he could, then, throwing, the reins to -his temper, he strode toward the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--THE MEETING - -[Illustration: 0332] - -IT was between eleven o'clock and midnight when McGlory and his -companion returned to Van Deelen's; it was between ten and eleven of -this same Thursday night when Axel Lindquist was taken sick on the road, -not a long walk from his father's house. - -In less than an hour Beveridge and his companions reached a turn in -the road and found themselves at the top of the slope,--it was hardly -a hill,--with Van Deelen's bridge a little way below them, and the -farm-yard beyond. Beveridge extinguished the lantern. “Look there!” - Wilson exclaimed. - -“Where?” - -“At the house yonder. Don't you see there's a light burning?” - -“That's a fact. We 'll move a little quietly, boys. Bert, you step around -between the house and the barn and keep an eye on the back door. Harper -will be with you.” - -They started down toward the bridge while Beveridge was speaking. When -they had crossed over, Harper stopped. - -“Can you wait just a minute? I've got a stone in my shoe.” - -“We 'll go ahead. Come on as soon as you can and join Bert out by the -barn.” And the three passed on, leaving Pink on a log at the roadside. - -Beveridge and Smiley went up to the front door and knocked. There was -no response. But for the light in one window, the house might have been -deserted. Beveridge knocked again. “Open up in there!” he shouted. But -no one answered. Smiley turned and looked around the dim clearing with a -shudder. “Lonesome, isn't it?” he said. “What a place to live!” - -Beveridge's mind was bent on getting in. “So they won't answer, eh? -We 'll see.” He stepped back to the ground, picked up a length of -cord-wood, and struck a heavy blow on the door. At this, a head appeared -in an upper window. - -“Who's there?” - -“Open your door and I 'll tell you.” - -“Tell me who you are, first.” - -“A special agent of the United States Treasury Department.” - -“What do you want me for?” - -“I don't care anything about you. I want the men you have hidden here.” - -“There ain't nobody here but my wife and me.” - -“Will you open, or shall I break in your door?” - -“Wait a minute! Don't break it! How do I know you're what you say you -are?” - -“Smiley, fetch a rail, will you please?” - -“Hold on there! I 'll be down in a minute.” The minute was not a quarter -gone when the same voice was heard through the door, saying, “You -haven't told me your names yet.” - -“Are you going to open this door?” - -“Yes, yes. Don't get impatient now.” The bolt slid back, and the door -opened a few inches. These inches were promptly occupied by Beveridge's -foot. - -“What's your name, my friend?” asked the special agent. - -“Van Deelen. I don't see what you want here. There ain't nobody here but -us.” - -“We 'll see about that.” Beveridge, as he spoke, threw his weight on -the door and forced it open so abruptly that the farmer was thrown -back against the wall. He entered with Smiley close at his heels. “Of -course,” he went on, as he shut it behind him, “if there isn't anything -really the matter here, you won't mind my looking around a little.” - -“Why, no--oh, no--only--” - -“Only what?” - -“My wife's down sick, and any noise or excitement might upset her.” - -“Nervous trouble, maybe.” - -“Yes, something of that sort.” - -“Has to keep her room, I suppose?” - -“Yes, yes.” - -“Room shut up so noise won't disturb her?” - -“Yes, we keep it shut.” - -“Place got on her nerves a little, maybe. Should think it would be sort -of monotonous here. No doctor, I suppose?” - -“No, not this side of Hewittson.” - -“How long has she been troubled?” - -“Why--” - -“Sudden attack, to-day or yesterday? Sick headache, and all that?” - -“Yes--she has a bad headache.” - -“Good deal of nausea, too? Sight of food distasteful?” - -“Oh, yes, she doesn't want anything to eat. - -“Can't keep anything on her stomach? Lost interest in living--no -enthusiasm for anything? Is that the form it takes?” - -“Why, yes--yes--” - -“Curious thing. Seems to prevail in this neighborhood. Young Lindquist, -back up the road, has the same trouble.” - -Van Deelen's stolid face wore a puzzled expression. He seemed not to -know how far to resent this inquisition. “Say,” he asked, “what do you -want?” - -“I want to know if you always receive folks with a shot-gun?” - -“Why--” - -“Bad characters in the neighborhood, maybe. Have they been giving you -trouble to-night?” - -“Who're you talking about?” - -“McGlory and the rest. When did they come?” - -“There hasn't anybody been here.” - -“Oh, all right. That's first-rate--would you mind stepping up and -telling your wife the doctor has come?” - -“You ain't a doctor.” - -“Come, my friend, don't contradict. I'm afraid we 'll have to take a look -into her room.” - -“Oh, you will!” - -“Yes. We 'll walk around this floor a little first. Will you entertain -him a minute, Smiley?” - -Beveridge slipped away, leaving the two standing at the foot of the -stairs. He moved from room to room, carrying a lamp which he had found -in the front room and had lighted. Soon he returned, set down the lamp -where he had found it, and joined Smiley and the farmer. “So Estelle's -had her hair cut,” he observed. - -Van Deelen shot a glance at him, but Beveridge went easily on. “Now -we 'll go upstairs, Dick.” - -Van Deelen, gun in hand, retreated upward a few steps and barred the -way. Beveridge looked at him, then he stepped quickly up and seized the -gun by barrel and stock. The farmer could easily have shot him, but he -made no attempt. And now the two men silently wrestled there, Van -Deelen in the more advantageous position, but Beveridge showing greater -strength than his figure seemed to promise. Finally, with a quick -wrench, the special agent got possession of the weapon and passed it -down to Smiley. “Now, Mister van Deelen,” he said, “will you please -stand aside?” - -For reply the farmer began retreating backward up the stairway, always -facing Beveridge, who followed closely. Dick drew the shells from the -gun, tossed it into the front room, and came after. The upper hall was -square, and of the three doors around it only one was closed. Beveridge -stepped into each of the open rooms, and then tried the door of the -third, while Van Deelen stood sullenly by. - -“Will you open this door?” Beveridge asked, with the beginnings of -impatience. - -No reply from the farmer. Smiley drew Beveridge aside and whispered, -“Maybe it's true that she's sick in there.” - -“Not much.” - -“But we haven't found her anywhere around the house.” - -“If she _is_ there, she isn't alone.” - -“But I kind of hate to break into a woman's room this way.” - -“Don't get chicken-hearted, Dick.” He turned to the farmer and asked -again, “Will you open this door?” - -There was no reply. - -Without another word Beveridge threw himself against it; but it was -stoutly built and did not yield. All three heard a gasp of fright from -within. - -“Hold on, Bill,” Smiley exclaimed. “No use breaking your collar-bone. -I 'll get a rail.” - -He said this with the idea of bullying either the farmer or the persons -within the room into opening the door, but Van Deelen remained sullen -and motionless. Beveridge, however, caught up the idea; and with a “Wait -here, Dick,” he ran down the stairs. In entering the house they had -closed the door after them, and now Beveridge had to stop and fumble a -moment with the lock. - -But it was only a moment, and pulling it open he plunged out. - -A breathless man with his hat pulled down was starting up the steps. -Beveridge stopped short; so did the breathless man. For an instant they -stood motionless, one staring down from the top step, the other staring -up from the bottom. Then Beveridge saw, in the shadow of the hat-brim, -a black mustache; and at the same instant the owner of the mustache -recognized the figure above him. - -Not for worlds would Beveridge have called out. He had McGlory fairly in -his hands,--the moment he had been hoping for, almost praying for, -had come,--and he could never have resisted the desire to take him -singlehanded. McGlory was heavy, muscular, desperate--these were merely -additional reasons. Beveridge had known little but plodding work for -weeks and months--here was where the glory came in. And glory was -what he craved--a line in the papers, the envy of his associates, the -approbation of his superiors. - -And so, when he saw McGlory before him in the flesh, silently tugging -at something in his hip pocket, he not only sprang down on him as a -mountain lion might leap on its prey,--not only this, but he took pains, -even in this whirling moment, to make no noise in the take-off. McGlory -got the revolver out, but he was a fifth of a second too late. Just as -he swung it around, the special agent landed on him, caught his wrist, -gripped him around the neck with his other arm, and bore him down in the -sand of the dooryard. Neither made a sound, save for occasional grunting -and heavy breathing. They rolled over and over, Beveridge now on top, -now McGlory. McGlory was hard as steel; Beveridge was lithe and quick. -If McGlory gripped him so tight around the body that it seemed only -a question of seconds before his ribs must go, one after another, -Beveridge never slackened his hold of that bull-like neck. McGlory -struggled to turn the revolver toward Beveridge; but Beveridge held to -his wrist and bent it back--back--until any other man must have dropped -the weapon for the sheer pain of it. - -The door had swung to behind Beveridge as he went out; the horse was -thrashing in the barn; and Dick, leaning against the closed door of -Mrs. van Deelen's bedroom, looking at the farmer, heard nothing of the -struggle that was going on outside. He was wondering what interest -this farmer could have in a gang of smugglers. He decided to ask. This -business of standing opposite him and exchanging the glances of two -hostile dogs was not a pleasant experience for a man of Dick's sociable -humor. - -“I've been wondering, Van Deelen, what you're acting this way for.” - -A suspicious glance was all this remark drew out. - -“I don't believe you're mixed up with that crew, and I don't see how -you can be interested in covering their tracks. Are you sure you aren't -taking the wrong tack?” - -“I ain't covering anybody's tracks. You don't know what you're talking -about.” - -“Can't you see that we don't enjoy breaking into people's houses and -prying around in bedrooms?” - -“What do you do it for then?” - -“What do we do it for! Why, McGlory and his gang are Smugglers--they're -a bad lot. And this man with me is a government officer.” - -“That ain't telling why you come _here_.” - -“Now, Van Deelen, what's the use of keeping up that bluff? It doesn't -fool anybody. We know all about their coming here. We've tracked them -this far. This officer will never leave the house until he has opened -this door and seen who you've got in here. I can promise you he 'll act -like a gentleman. Now don't you think it would be a good deal better -just to open up and be done with it?” - -Having no reasonable answer to this, Van Deelen fell back into his -sullen silence. - -“Wonder what's taking him so long,” Dick observed. “Would he have to go -far for a rail?” - -There was no answer. - -Altogether, it was not a cheerful situation. Dick, who had borne up -capitally so far, now experienced a sinking of spirits. He looked first -at the glum figure before him, then at the dingy walls and ceiling, then -down into the shadows of the stairway. Seeing nothing that could prop -his spirits, he fell to humming “Baby Mine.” - -“Oh, I beg your pardon,” he broke out, interrupting himself; “maybe I'm -disturbing your wife?” - -There was no answer. - -“You're a hilarious old bird,” said Dick. - -No answer--nothing but that glum Dutch face. - -“Oh, well--go to thunder!” - -Not even a gleam of anger disturbed those Dutch eyes. Dick, his feeble -struggle over, succumbed to the gloom and was silent. And such silence -as it was! The horse, over in the barn, had ceased kicking about; the -air was still. The creakings of the old house sounded like the tread of -feet. The loud breathing of the person within the closed room could be -distinctly heard. - -There was a shot outside--then silence--two more shots--again the -silence. It is curious how a revolver shot, in the stillness of the -night, can be at once startling and insignificant. Curious, because it -is not very loud--no deafening report--no reverberation--but merely a -dead _thud_, as if the sound were smothered in a blanket. And yet it -was loud enough to raise goose-flesh all over Dick's body and send the -creepy feeling that we all know through the roots of his hair, as if a -thousand ants had suddenly sprung into being there. At the first report -he stiffened up; the second and third met his ears halfway down the -stairs. Van Deelen, frightened, bewildered, ran down close after him. - -Dick paused at the foot of the steps and looked around. In an instant -he made out the familiar figure of Beveridge a dozen yards away. The -special agent was standing over a prostrate man, one hand gripping a -revolver, the other fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief. The sweat -was glistening on his face, his collar and tie hung down his breast, his -coat was torn clear across the back. - -Dick joined him, and knelt over the man on the ground. - -“We've wasted time enough on him,” said Beveridge, catching his breath. - -“Who--oh, it's McGlory! Is--is he--” - -“Shouldn't wonder. Help me get a rail, will you?” - -They started without further words toward the barn-yard fence. - -“Hold on,” said Dick. “There's that cord-wood we used on the front -door.” - -“That will do.” - -So they went back and picked up the heavy stick. At this moment Harper -came running up, his shoe in his hand. “I didn't know you was going -to be in such a thundering hurry to begin the shooting, Mr. Beveridge. -I 'most cut my foot to pieces running up here.” - -“Come along, Dick,” said Beveridge. - -“Good Lord!” gasped Harper, suddenly taking in the figure of the special -agent. “What they been doing to you?” - -But Beveridge gave no heed to the question. “Stay here at the steps, -Harper, and if any more come up, don't let 'em get away from you.” With -the cord-wood on his shoulder, he entered the house and started up the -stairs. But Van Deelen hurried after him and caught his arm. - -“Well, what do you want?” - -“You needn't use that.” - -“You 'll let me in?” - -“Yes.” - -Beveridge promptly set down his burden on the stairs, and stood aside to -let the farmer take the lead. - -Van Deelen tapped at the door, and softly, called, “Saskia!” - -“What is it?” - -“You have to open the door and let this gentleman in.” - -“Mercy, no!” - -“But you have to!” - -“Then,--” the voice was very fluttery and agitated--“then wait a minute -after I unlock the door.” - -The bolt was slipped, and they could hear a frantic rustling and -scampering. Van Deelen opened the door and entered the room with -Beveridge and Smiley at his heels. As they entered, another door, -evidently leading to a closet, was violently closed. - -The three men stood a moment in the middle of the room without speaking, -then Beveridge walked over to the bed. The woman lying there had turned -to the wall and drawn the coverlet over her face. Beveridge bent over -and jerked it back. “Smiley,” he called, “come here and see if this -ain't your old friend, Estelle!” - -The woman struggled to hide her face again, but Beveridge rudely held -her quiet. Dick would have turned away but for the special agent's -impatience. As it was he made him speak twice. Then he went slowly and -shamefacedly to the bed. “Yes, I guess this is Estelle, all right.” - -They saw her shudder. Her face was flushed with fever. Dick took -Beveridge's arm and whispered, “For heaven's sake, Bill, don't be a -beast.” But Beveridge impatiently shook him off. - -“Well, Estelle,” he said, “the game's up. We've got them.” - -Her eyes were wild, but she managed to repeat. “You've got them?” - -“Yes. You 'll never see McGlory again.” - -“And Pete--have you got Pete?” Beveridge glanced inquiringly at Smiley, -who, after a moment of puzzling, nodded, and with his lips formed the -name “Roche.” - -“Yes, we've got Roche. Pretty lot they were to leave you here.” - -But Estelle had fainted. - -“Here, Dick,” said Beveridge, “bring some water.” - -Van Deelen indicated the washstand, and Smiley fetched the pitcher. -Beveridge sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her forehead with the -cool water. He asked Van Deelen for some whiskey, and forced a little -between her teeth. Finally her eyes opened. - -“There,” said Beveridge, “that's better. You 'll be all right in a -minute. Now tell me why they left you.” - -“Look here, Bill,” said Dick, “I can't stand this.” - -Beveridge paid no attention, but went on stroking her forehead. “Tell me -why they left you, Estelle. They weren't very square with you.” - -“It was Pete--” The whiskey had revived her a very little. - -“Yes, I know. You were mistaken in Pete. He never meant to stand by -you.” - -“He said--” - -“Yes--go on.” - -“He said we--we could get away--and--” - -“Yes?” - -“--and they were asleep and--and then we saw the house, and--oh, I can't -think--” - -“Bill,--for heaven's sake!” cried Dick. “Yes, it's all right, Estelle. -You're all safe now. Try to think.” - -“I guess I fainted--Pete was gone--and I--I don't know--how I got to the -house--” - -“That will do. Go to sleep, Estelle. We 'll take good care of you.” - Beveridge rose, and looked significantly toward the closet door. “Now, -Mister,” he said, addressing the farmer, “we 'll just take a look in that -closet before we go, and--” - -A protesting voice, muffled by hanging garments, but shrill -nevertheless, came from the closet, and Beveridge smiled. “Is it your -wife?” he asked. Van Deelen nodded. And then, the smile lingering, -Beveridge led the way out of the room. - -As they started down the stairs, Dick observed: “You were awful quiet -down there with McGlory, Bill. I'd heard your second shot before I knew -anything was happening.” - -“You never heard my second shot.” - -“I didn't? I'd like to know why I didn't.” - -“Because I only fired once.” - -“Then who did the rest of it? By Jove! Where's Wilson?” - -Beveridge turned sharply at the question. “That's a fact,” he muttered. -They had reached the front steps by this time, and could see Harper -ostentatiously standing guard with drawn revolver. “Say, Pink, have you -seen Bert anywhere?” - -“No. Thought he was inside with you.” - -“Step around the house, quick. We 'll go this way.” - -They found Wilson lying on the ground, not far from the front of the -house. He had plunged forward on his face, with his arms spread out -before him. Apparently he had been running around from the rear to join -Beveridge when the ball brought him down. In an instant the two men were -kneeling by him. - -“How is it, Bill? Can you tell?” - -“He isn't gone yet. Get a light, will you?” Dick ran back into the house -and brought out Van Deelen with a lamp and some improvised bandages. -Beveridge had some practical knowledge of first aid to the injured; and -the farmer seemed really to have some little skill, as a man must who -lives with his family twenty-five miles from a physician. And so between -them they managed to stanch the flow of blood while Dick and Pink were -carrying a small bed out of doors. With great care not to start the flow -again, they carried him into the front room. - -“Did you notice,” said Beveridge to Smiley, when they had made him as -comfortable as they could, “where he was hit?” - -“In the back, wasn't it?” - -“Yes, and a little to the right. Now if he fell straight,--and I think -he did, because the way he went shows that he was running, and that he -simply pitched forward,--the shot must have come from near the bridge, -maybe from those trees a little down-stream from the bridge. Now there's -just one man could have done it, to my notion. He was an old hand, -because it was a pretty shot at the distance and in that _light_.” - -“Who do you think?” - -“Well, now, there's Roche. He skipped out some time ago and left Estelle -in the woods. He wouldn't have done that unless he was badly scared, -would he? Isn't he a pretty poor lot, anyway--no nerve, just bluster?” - -“That's Pete. If he is fairly started running, he won't stop to-night.” - -“That's about what I thought about him. It's pretty plain he would never -have come back here with McGlory after him--you see McGlory _had_ -come after him,--he was chasing Roche because he had run off with -Estelle--and made such a cool shot as that was. So we 'll rule out Roche. -And McGlory is ruled out too, and Estelle.” - -“Oh--” - -“So that leaves just 'the boss'--Spencer.” - -“That sounds reasonable.” - -“He has nerve enough for anything, hasn't he?” - -“He looks as if he had.” - -“Now I 'll tell you what we 'll do. We 'll get this Dutch woman to nurse -Bert here, and then the four of us will step down to the bridge and see -what we can make of it--or hold on; I 'll take Van Deelen and go to the -bridge, and you and Harper can go down to the creek below the barn and -work up to the bridge. What do you think of that?” - -“First-rate.” - -“You aren't too fagged?” - -“Not me--not while the rest of you are on your pins.” - -“That's the talk. I 'll see about the woman here.” - -“Say, Bill, wait a minute. You aren't planning to walk right up to the -bridge, are you?” - -“Sure. Why not?” - -“If I was you, I'd work around through the trees a little. He may be -there yet, and we know how he can shoot.” - -“What's the use? It's all a gamble anyhow. The thing to do is to go on -the run. A man is a good deal like a dog, you know. If you run right at -him and show all over you that you mean business, why, even if he thinks -he is ready for you, it's likely to bother him. Upsets his nerve--starts -him thinking he is on the losing side.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--WHISKEY JIM - - -[Illustration: 0358] - -BEFORE the four men left the house Wilson revived and asked for his -chief. Beveridge, his torn coat thrown aside, hurried back and bent over -the bed. “What is it, Bert?” - -“That's what I was going to ask you. I don't remember--exactly--” - -“You were running around the house when somebody winged you. It doesn't -amount to anything--you 'll be around in a day or so.” - -“Oh, yes--that's it. It was some fellow behind, wasn't it? I remember I -didn't see anybody ahead.” - -“Yes--he was a little below the bridge, as I figure it.” - -“Yes--yes--don't you see, Bill? That's where Harper was--he stayed -behind with some yarn about his shoe--had a stone in it.” - -“Keep quiet, Bert! don't get worked up--” - -“But think of it, Bill! What you going to do now?” - -“I'm going to find the man that hit you.” - -“Not with those two, Smiley and Harper?” - -“Why, certainly.” - -“But don't you see, Bill? That's just what they want. They've got rid -of me--now they 'll draw you off into the woods--why, you're putting -yourself right in their hands!” - -“You'd better try to think of something else, Bert. Mrs. van Deelen here -is going to take good care of you. I 'll stop in on the way back.” And -Beveridge slipped out the door without giving Wilson further opportunity -to protest. - -The others were waiting impatiently at the steps. Smiley and Harper at -once started off toward the creek below the barn; and Beveridge set out -on a run for the bridge, telling the farmer to follow. - -When he reached the creek, Beveridge searched through the trees for some -distance down-stream and then up-stream, but found no sign of a man. -“Well,” he said, joining Van Deelen at the end of the bridge, “he got -away all right.” - -“Did you look under the bridge?” - -“Yes. Nothing there.” - -The farmer stood still for a moment, thinking; then he clambered down -the bank and peered into the shadow under the bridge floor. “Come -down here,” he said. And when Beveridge had reached his side, standing -ankle-deep in the muddy water, he went on, “See that?” - -“No--wait a minute, I can't see anything yet. What is it?” - -“Feel this rope. It's been cut.” - -“Oh,” murmured Beveridge, “I see. A boat.” - -“Yes. He has stolen my boat.” - -“Of course--and slipped off down-stream as easy and quiet as you like. -He's a cool hand, that Spencer. Come back up here--we 'll go on down and -meet Smiley. Wait, though, he might be hiding anywhere down the stream -here. Are there many bushes and such along the bank?” - -“Yes, it's grown up pretty heavy. I never had any reason for keeping it -cleared.” - -“Well, then, we 'll keep down here close to the water where we can see -things.” - -“It 'll be pretty wet. Will you wait while I get my boots? My -rheumatism's been pretty bad this year--” - -“Go back, then. I can't wait for you.” - -And with this, Beveridge pushed off down the stream. Van Deelen, after -a moment's hesitation, followed. They met the other party just above the -barn. - -“See anything?” asked Dick. - -“Yes. He has gone down in a boat.” Beveridge turned to the farmer. “Does -the creek go on far in this direction?” - -“No, it turns off south pretty soon.” - -“Would it take him anywhere especial?” - -“No--just into the woods.” - -“No houses south of here?” - -“Not for a long way.” - -“And it's sluggish like this all along, isn't it? Full of snags and -shallows?” - -“Oh, yes, he couldn't go very fast.” - -“All right. Come on, boys.” - -On they went, walking over the spongy ground below the bank or splashing -softly through the water. They did not speak, but followed their leader -eagerly through the moving shadows. The trees arched over their heads, -the water slipped moodily onward, blacker than the shadows. Now and then -they stumbled over projecting roots, or stepped down knee-deep in -some muddy hole; all the while their eyes strove to pierce the dark, -searching for a boat in the gloom of the opposite bank, or for a man -among the bushes above, even glancing overhead into the trees, where a -desperate man might have hidden. At length they reached an opening in -the trees of the right bank, and Beveridge, stepping up, found that the -road here paralleled the creek. - -“Which way now?” asked Dick. - -“No sign of a boat, is there?” - -“No.” - -“Then keep on down-stream.” - -They divided now in order to watch both banks, for the creek had widened -a little and the shadows were dense. It was Smiley and Harper who waded -across, stepping down waist-deep in the water and mud. Not a word was -spoken. The only sound was the low splash-splash of four pairs of feet, -with now and then the noise of heavy breathing or a muttered exclamation -as one or another stumbled into a hole. - -“Hello--ouch!” - -The voice was Pink Harper's. At this point the trees had shut in -overhead, and the dark was impenetrable. Beveridge and Van Deelen could -see nothing across the creek, not even the blot of denser black which -told Smiley, only a few feet behind, where his companion had stopped. - -“What is it?” came in a low voice from Beveridge. - -“Hit my shin. Hold on--feels like a boat. Guess you'd better come -across.” - -Without a moment's hesitation the special agent turned to the left -and plunged into the stream. At this point it was deeper, and he found -himself submerged to the armpits. To save time he drew up his feet -and swam across until his knees struck bottom. And then the three of -them,--Van Deelen waited on the farther bank,--now dimly visible to each -other, stood side by side feeling of the boat. - -“You 'll have to come over here,” said Beveridge to the farmer, “and tell -us if it's your boat.” - -Van Deelen had no mind to swim. “Can't you strike a match?” he asked. - -“Strike your aunt!” growled Beveridge, wringing his wet clothes. - -“Well, say, that ain't necessary anyhow. My boat's the only one on the -creek.” - -“Why didn't you say that before I swam over?” - -“Well, I--” - -“You want to watch out or you 'll be coming down with brain fever one of -these days. Come, boys, we 'll go back.” - -“You think what he did was to take to the road back up there and set the -boat adrift?” asked Pink. - -“Of course.” The words came from the deeper water, where the special -agent was already swimming back. A moment more and Dick and Pink were -after him. - -“Now, Mister van Deelen,” said Beveridge, when they had gathered -together, “take us to the road.” - -“It's right back up-stream. You know where it is as well as I do.” - -“Can't we strike right over through the woods?” - -“Why, yes, you could do--” - -“All right, Dick. It 'll be lighter when we get up out of this hole.” - -They floundered through a hundred yards of undergrowth and finally came -upon the open road. They were a dismal enough party. The water in their -shoes gurgled when they moved and spurted out at the lacings in little -streams. Other streams ran down their clothing to the road, where the -sand drank them up. Beveridge was without coat or collar, and the others -were nearly as dilapidated. The physical strain of the chase, and the -loss of sleep, not to speak of Beveridge's fight with McGlory, had worn -them down nearly to the point at which nature asserts her peremptory -claims,--but not one of them knew it. They did not know that they were -a desperate spectacle in the eyes of the bewildered farmer; even if they -could have stood in the light of day and looked full at one another, it -is to be doubted if any of the three would have observed the deep-lined, -white faces, the ringed eyes, of the other two. For the spirit of the -chase was in them. - -“Now, Mister Van,” said Beveridge, almost gayly, “how far is it to the -next house?” - -“Why--why--” - -“Don't think too fast. A man died that way once.” - -“There's an empty house about a mile from here.” - -“All right, we 'll make for that. I want you, Van Deelen, to hitch up a -wagon and come on after us as quick as you can.” - -The farmer turned at once and walked rapidly up the road. - -“Spencer hasn't much start of us,” said Beveridge, as the three men -started in the opposite direction. - -“He couldn't have. It took him a good while to work down here in that -boat. We 'll get him if he keeps the road.” - -“He 'll have to do that. If he took to the woods, he would be lost in an -hour--and that means starvation.” - -Pink ventured a pleasantry, “Maybe he's got a compass,” of which the -special agent took not the slightest notice; but said, turning to -Smiley, “How are your legs, Dick?” - -“Fine. Trim as they make them.” - -“Feel up to a dog trot?” - -“Half a dollar even, I 'll beat you to the deserted house.” - -“Hold on, don't get to sprinting. Save your wind. An easy jog will do -it.” - -All three fell at once into an easy running gait, Smiley and Beveridge -side by side, Pink laboring along in the rear. - -Five minutes later Beveridge paused for breath. “We must have run nearly -a mile by this time, boys.” - -“Easily.” - -“Not so loud. Doesn't it look to you as if the road turned--up ahead -there?” - -It did look so; and as they went on toward the turning it grew plain -that they were approaching a clearing. - -“Wait, boys,” whispered the special agent. “This ought to be the -place,--we don't want to move quite so carelessly now. Dick, you go -around to the left, and I 'll take the right; Pink, you give us two or -three minutes and then move in quietly toward the clearing. In that way -we shall all three close in together. Wait a few minutes now.” - -The two men disappeared in the woods, one on each side of the road, and -Pink was left alone in the shadows. At first he could hear now and then -a low rustle as one or the other brushed through the bushes, but soon -these sounds died away. He was standing in the shadow at the roadside, -gazing with fixed eyes at the opening in the trees and stumps a hundred -yards farther along. He wondered if the three minutes were up. It was -too dark to use his watch. Waiting there under the stars, the minutes -spun out amazingly; all sense of the passage of time seemed to have left -him. He moved forward a few steps,--but no, it was too early; Dick and -Beveridge had surely not had time to get to their positions. Still, what -if he should wait too long, and not arrive in time to act in concert -with the others? - -Out on the Lakes, with a slanting deck underfoot and a dim shore-line -somewhere off in the night, Pink's soul would have thrilled in unison -with the stars, but here, buried in the gloom of the pine stumps,--those -straight, blackened poles that stood in endless monotony,--his soul was -overwhelmed. A panic seized him; he knew he would be late; and he -took to gliding along in the shadows, nearer and nearer, until, seeing -plainly that the road swung around to the right, and that the clearing -was overgrown with tall weeds and was surrounded by a stump fence, he -paused again. His feet sinking at each step in the sand, he made no -sound. - -He stood motionless. Over the weeds he made out the sagging roof of -a small building. Then, forgetting that his own figure was invisible -against the black of the forest, he dropped to the ground and, flat on -his face, wriggled forward. A row of sunflowers grew inside the fence. -At one point was a cluster of them, standing out high above the weeds. -Cautiously inch by inch he crept nearer. The bunched stalks, outlined so -distinctly against the sky, fascinated him by their resemblance to the -hat, head, and shoulders of a human being. - -Nearer--nearer--a moment more and he would be able to place his hand -against the fence. He was holding his breath now; afterward he could -never tell what was the slight noise he must have made. Or perhaps it -was the sense that tells one when a person has silently entered a -room that caused the figure--just as Pink, lying there on the sand and -looking up, had made sure that it _was_ a figure and not a clump of -sunflowers--to look around, up and down. Pink scrambled to his feet and -plunged recklessly forward. The man, who had been sitting on the fence, -quietly dropped down on the inner side. - -A stump fence is not easy to climb, and Pink was on the outer side, -where the tangled masses of roots spread out into a _cheveau-de-frise_ -which, in the dark, seemed insurmountable. When he had finally got to -the top, at the expense of a few scratches, a disturbance in the weeds -near the front of the house told him where the fugitive had taken -refuge. He promptly set up a shout. - -“Ho-o-ho!” came simultaneously from Smiley and Beveridge. - -“Here he is!” - -“Where?” - -“In the--” Pink was balancing on the fence. Before he could finish his -shout a revolver shot sounded from the house, and he went tumbling down -into the enclosure. - -“What's that! Are you hit?” - -“No--just lost my balance. Close in--he's in the house.” He was getting -to his feet during this speech and feeling himself, not sure, in spite -of his statement, whether it was the noise or the bullet that had upset -him. But he could find no trace of a wound. - -“Keep your places!” Beveridge was calling to the others. “Keep your -places! Now then, Mr. Spencer, we have you cornered. You can have your -choice of giving up now or being starved out. Which will it be?” - -No answer from the house. - -“Speak up! I don't propose to waste much more time on you.” - -This time the fugitive decided to reply; but his reply took the form of -a second shot, sent carefully toward the spot in the weeds from which -the voice seemed to be coming. - -“Hi!” shouted Pink, “did he get you?” - -“No. Shut up, will you?” - -The man with the revolver was plainly an old hand, for now he fired -a third time; and the shot came dangerously near, whether by luck or -otherwise, to shutting up the speaker for all time. Beveridge dropped -hastily behind a log that lay at his feet. Then, disgusted with himself, -he scrambled boldly up and stood on the log. - -Pink was obediently silent, 'though trembling with excitement. The -stillness of the forest fell suddenly in upon them. For a few moments -nothing was said or done. The man in the house had a momentary advantage -which all recognized. What light the sky gave was all upon the clearing, -and to move, however cautiously, through that tangle of weeds and bushes -without setting the tops to waving, was impossible. The building was so -small that the man could, with little effort, command all four sides. -And so Beveridge decided on a council of war with Smiley. At his first -movement another shot came cutting through the bushes; but he laughed -aloud, and went deliberately on in a quarter circle until he found -Smiley. “Well,” he said softly and gleefully, “we've got him.” - -“If we can keep awake as long as he can. What are you going to do now?” - -“Wait till dawn, and see how he stands it. No, don't look at me. Keep -your eyes on the house. He's too slippery to run chances with. It -oughtn't to be so very long now. How about you--can you keep up all -right?” - -“Me? Why, certainly.” - -“All right, then. I 'll go around and take the boy's place, so he can -rest a bit. Keep a close watch. So long.” - -“So long.” - -The special agent went on around his circle, and found Pink near the -fence. “I 'll be here for a while, Harper. You'd better try to get some -sleep.” - -“Me--sleep?” - -“Take your chance while you have it.” - -“Moses and the bulrushers! You don't think I could sleep now?” - -“Just as you like.” - -To the three watchers there seemed to be a breakdown somewhere on the -line that leads to dawn. The hours dragged until they stopped short. All -the real things of this world, cities and schooners and houses on stilts -and long reaches of blue water, had slipped back into the dim land of -dreams. Nothing was real but the brooding forest, the rank weeds with -their tale of desolation, the sand--sand--sand. Even Beveridge, sitting -on his log, gave way. At each sound from the forest,--a crackle or a -rustle,--he started like a nervous woman. Chilled by the night air and -his wet clothes, he shivered until his teeth rattled. - -A husky, plaintive voice rose into the night, singing. It came from -Harper's post near the stump fence. - - “A fu-nee-ral per-cession was a-passin' down a street - - That was lin'd with mansions stately, rich, and grand; - - A tiny girl was sobbin', her lit-tull heart most broke, - - A tear-stained hank-er-chuff was in her hand. - - A tall and stately gentlemun, touched by her sorry plight, - - For she was pale and ragged, thin and wan, - - He stopped and took her lit-tull hand, and gently bending o'er, - - 'Don't cry, my child, I 'll help you if I can.'” - - -All the horrors of the night and the forest were gathered up into that -wailing voice. Beveridge shuddered. But Pink was warming up to it now, -sharing his misery with the night. If the verse had been doleful, the -refrain was worse:-- - - “'Mother's in the coffun, sir, - - Mother's left her home; - - The ainjulls come and took her up on high. - - But if I'm good and kindly, sir, - - And never off do roam, - - I 'll meet her in the sweet by-and-by.'” - - -Beveridge rose uncertainly to his feet. The song went on:-- - - - “'Tell me your name, my lit-tull child,' the gentlemun did - - say, - - And when the words she lisping did repeat, - - He staggered back in horror with remorse wrote on his face, - - And--” - - -At this point Beveridge began moving through the weeds. Pink sang on; -and he was just breaking out into the refrain,-- - - Mother's in her coffan, sir, - - Mother's left her home; - - The ainjulls come and took her up--'” - - -when he heard a sound, started, looked up, saw a dark figure bending -over him, and stopped singing with a gasp. - -“That 'll do for you,” said the dark figure. - -“Oh, it's you!” exclaimed Pink, with relief. “That 'll do for you. -Understand?” - -Pink was silent. Beveridge slipped silently back to his log. - -Night has a way of giving place to day, even such interminable nights -as this. Neither hastening nor resting, with no heed for the miserable -little company that surrounded the deserted house in the wilderness, the -hours stepped silently on into eternity. The darkness slowly changed to -blackness; then the east brightened, the sky paled, the new day tossed -its first flaming spears, and the shivering dawn was upon them. - -Beveridge got up very slowly,--for a new kind of pain was shooting -through his joints,--stretched, and, walking bent, like an old man, -cautiously made his way to Smiley's post. The sailor was awake; but -whether he had been awake all night could hardly be, decided from his -face. Beveridge had his suspicions, but decided not to air them. - -“Look here, Dick,” he began. - -“All right. Go ahead.” - -“How are your joints?” - -“Never worse. How about yours?” - -“Same way. I don't know how you feel, but I've had enough.” - -“Can't help that, can we?” - -“I can help it, and I'm going to.” - -“I'd like to know how.” - -“Keep your eyes open and you 'll see. I want you to stay here under -cover.” - -“You aren't going to storm the house?” - -“Yes, sir, that's just what I'm going to do.” - -“Have you thought it over? He 'll shoot you know.” - -“There are two ways of leaving this world, Dick, that I know of. One way -is to catch your death of rheumatism and go off slow; the other is to -let a man who can handle a revolver make a neat, clean job of it. I -don't know how you feel about it, but I prefer the neat way. Now you -wait here while I--” - -“Hold on, Bill. Here we have him nicely penned and our plan of siege -all settled, when you up and change your tactics. I don't see the use of -putting yourself up for a target when we have him sure the other way.” - -“That's all right, Dick.” - -“Here's another thing. Wilson's out of the running--suppose he puts you -out too. What are Pink and I going to do? We have no authority to arrest -the man. I'm not even sure that it would be to our interest to try it in -such a case. Why not wait--just settle down to it. We can get something -to eat from Van Deelen. Say, didn't you tell him to follow us with the -wagon last night?” - -Beveridge indulged in a dry smile. “Yes, I did. But I didn't more than -half think he'd do it. You do as I tell you, Dick, and--” - -“Well, if your mind's made up, I suppose--” - -Beveridge's mind was made up. He set out without further words, and -Dick watched him, uncertain of his movements, until he saw that he was -circling around in the direction of the stump fence and Pink. Dick's -thoughts were unsettled. Such actions were foolhardy, now that it was -nearly broad daylight. It would have been no trick at all to put a few -balls into the body below the waving weeds that marked the progress of -the special agent. For some reason, however, the shots did not come. - -Between Dick and the house there was a comparatively open space. By -stepping forward a few yards he would emerge into full view of the man -in the house, whereas on Pink's side the growth was rank, and Beveridge, -if he should go directly to the house after giving Pink his directions, -would not be visible until he should have nearly reached the door. But -the telltale weeds!--there was something in the thought of Beveridge -being shot down like a porcupine as he floundered through the tangle -that made Dick shudder. - -It would be better to walk straight out into the open and be done with -it. - -Peering from his hiding-place, he could see that all was quiet. -Beveridge had reached Pink, and was probably talking with him. But -he could not hear their voices--the clearing was absolutely still. He -watched--and watched--his eyes fixed on the spot where Beveridge had -stopped. Perhaps his arguments had taken effect; perhaps the plan had -been changed. But no, the weeds were moving again. - -Dick's blood was up. He drew his revolver and plunged straight out into -the open toward the house. - -“Here you in there!” he shouted. “Come out or fight! Do you hear -me? Come out or fight! We've got you on all sides--you can't hit us -all--come out and be done with it.” - -The house was still. Beveridge heard Dick's voice, and knew what he -was doing. He tried to run forward, tripped, and fell headlong in the -briers, cursing like a buccaneer. Pink heard both the voice and the -tumble, and at the instant he too was fighting madly forward through -the weeds. Could he be expected to obey orders? To sit and twiddle his -thumbs while Dick was fighting? Not a sound came from the house. - -Dick walked deliberately to the door and hammered with the muzzle of his -revolver. - -“Come out,” he called, “or I 'll smash it in.” He heard the man stir. - -“Come out, or by----!” - -The man was walking slowly across the floor. Dick went on shouting:-- - -“No tricks, now! Open your door! I've got a gun on you--I've got a gun -on you!” The rusty old key turned and the door swung back. As it opened, -Beveridge broke out of the weeds, with Pink close after, and the three -men stood bewildered, motionless, staring at the square-built figure and -quiet face of--Henry Smiley. - -They could not speak. Even Beveridge had lowered his weapon. - -“Put up your guns, boys,” said Henry, with a sort of smile. “Put up your -guns; I 'll go back with you.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--HARBOR LIGHTS - - -[Illustration: 0386] - -BEVERIDGE recovered first, and said in a businesslike way, “You 'll have -to give me your weapons.” - -Henry at once handed over two large-caliber revolvers, and emptied his -pockets of fully half a hundred cartridges. “It's a lucky thing for -you, Mister Beveridge,” he said, “that Dick came out just when he did. A -minute more and I should have finished you.” - -But Beveridge's thoughts were not heading in the same direction. His -reply was, “Where's Spencer?” - -“Spencer? You didn't get him?” - -“No.” - -“Then he's in Canada.” - -“Oh, I see.” Beveridge turned to Smiley. “Well, Dick, for a man that got -things exactly wrong, you came nearer to being right than I should have -thought possible.” - -As they walked back toward Van Deelen's, Henry fell in with his cousin. -“You don't seem very talkative, Dick. Guess I must have surprised you.” - -But Dick could not find his voice to reply. - -“And you surprised me too, rather. How did you happen to be up here with -this man?” - -“Then you don't know that he's holding me for Whiskey Jim?” cried Dick. - -“No--is he?” - -Dick, overcome with fatigue and emotion, nodded. Henry stopped and -turned to the special agent, who was walking close behind. - -“You didn't think Dick here was in this business, did you?” - -“We 'll discuss that later. Move along, please.” - -“But this won't do, Beveridge. Dick has nothing to do with it, nothing -whatever.” - -“I suppose he didn't know where his schooner went and what he carried -aboard her, eh?” - -“Oh, I can explain all that. He's all right. I'm the man you want.” - -“I 'll talk with you again, Mr. Smiley. We can't stop now.” - -They found Wilson in a bad way. Mrs. van Deelen had been doing her -utmost during the night for her two patients, but to attempt moving -either was out of the question. Beveridge left some money to cover -the expense of caring for his subordinate, and Henry good-naturedly -contributed toward the care of Estelle. It was arranged that Van Deelen -should drive Beveridge and his party back to Spencer's, stopping on the -way to send Lindquist or his boy to Hewittson for a doctor. Nothing more -could be done here, and so they hurried Van Deelen into hitching up at -once. Beveridge could not sleep in comfort until his prisoner should be -safe under guard on the revenue cutter. - -“There's one thing,” said the special agent to Henry Smiley, as the four -haggard men climbed into the wagon that was to take them on the long -drive through the forest, “there's one thing I don't understand. Why -didn't you fellows pick up a horse at one of these places and drive, -instead of footing it,--with a woman along, too?” - -“We did start in Spencer's wagon, but it broke down before we'd gone ten -miles, the road was so bad.” - -“But we didn't see it,” said Pink. - -“We must have passed it on the first stretch before we found the road.” - -“And then,” said Henry, “I thought we'd better stick it out on foot. You -see, I didn't believe it would occur to you that we would take to the -woods. And even if it should, I thought we should have plenty of time -before you started after us. I misjudged it there, you see. I was -thinking hardest about the other end of it--about what we should do -when we got down into Indiana, with maybe your men on the lookout for us -everywhere. And then a horse is a give-away--you can't hide it. And the -road is so heavy with sand that it's 'most as quick to walk. I thought it -all over and decided it that way. So we dragged the wagon off into the -bushes, and led the horse off and shot him. But why didn't you ride?” - -“We didn't get a chance until we reached Lindquist's. And then we were -so close on your trail--and I knew you were on foot--that I decided the -same way. If we had been rattling along in a wagon, you might have heard -us quarter of a mile ahead, and all you would have had to do then would -be to step into the bushes and let us go by.” - -At a few minutes before noon the party alighted from the wagon at -Spencer's wharf, where the _Merry Anne_ still lay, waved a signal to the -launch, and were carried out past False Middle Island to the _Foote_. - -“I guess there isn't much doubt what we 'll do next,” said Beveridge, -with a yawn, as the launch drew near to the companion-ladder, which had -been let down forward of the paddle-wheel. - -“I guess there ain't,” Pink replied with another yawn. - -“One thing, Dick,” said Beveridge, “before we go away from here,--it -isn't right to leave your schooner in there for the porcupines to chew -to pieces.” - -Dick, who had been studying the bottom of the boat, looked up quickly -and with a peculiar expression. After Henry's confession, would he be -allowed to sail her back himself? Beveridge caught the look, and for an -instant his face showed the faintest trace of confusion. “You see,” he -went on, “I've been thinking it over on the way back from Van Deelen's. -It's rather an irregular thing to do, but I'm willing, if Captain -Sullivan will let us have a few men, to turn the schooner over to Harper -here. He's competent to handle her, isn't he?” - -“Oh, yes,” Dick replied in a dry voice, “he is competent enough.” - -Pink's eyes brightened. “Sure thing,” he said, “I can run her easy.” - -Dick glanced at Pink, then dropped his eyes again. The boy had heard -only the words; he had not caught the thoughts that were passing between -his captain and the special agent. To Dick this decision, coming in the -lull after the excitement, coming after what seemed to him proof of his -innocence, sounded like the judge's sentence. Through the hour or two -that followed, during the dinner on the steamer, after the launch had -gone back into the harbor with Pink and his crew, even when the old -side-wheeler had raised her anchor and started on her lumbering way -around through the Straits and up Lake Michigan to Chicago, Dick, -lying dressed in his berth, was trying to puzzle out the meaning of -Beveridge's words and of the momentary confusion that had accompanied -them. And it did not raise his spirits that, after each struggle with -the problem, his thoughts were directed to Annie. Perhaps Beveridge -himself, if he had laid his thoughts bare, could not have helped him -much. For it was not reasoning that had shown him the tactical folly -of allowing Dick to come sailing gloriously in to Annie's very front -door,--red shirt, neckerchief, and all the appurtenances of a hero; it -was the instinct that made it impossible for him to resist holding every -advantage that came to his hand. Beveridge had done a big thing. He -had run down--killed or captured or driven out of the country--several -members of the most skilful gang in the history of smuggling on the -Great Lakes. He had done it alone. He was even beginning to put down his -surprise over the capture of Henry Smiley, and to feel that Henry was -the one man he had been after from the first. Yes, he had made his -success--the thing left was to win Annie. And to do this he must not -only see her before Dick could see her; he must also arrange that Dick's -appearance on the scene, when all the delays had been exhausted, should -be an inglorious one. Some of his finest work was yet to come. In -thinking it over, lying in his berth in the room next to Dick's, their -heads not two feet apart, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips. And -never had the _Foote_ seen such sleeping as followed. When all three -men, accusers and accused, had slept through the afternoon and on -through the night, when they failed to hear even the breakfast gong, -Captain Sullivan began to wonder if they meant to wake at all. - -Afterward, for a day or two, all three, Beveridge, Dick, and Henry, were -very quiet. They sat yawning in deck chairs, or dozed in their berths. -But during this time, thanks to the sunny skies and the peaceful lake, -and thanks to Beveridge's elation and good-nature, to Henry's surprising -cheerfulness, and to the difficulty Dick found in showing the depth -of his feelings, the relations of the three were growing more and more -pleasant. By common consent they avoided discussing the chase or its -cause. - -On the afternoon of the last day out, Dick and Beveridge sat smoking on -the after deck. The _Foote_ was rumbling slowly down the coast somewhere -below Milwaukee, and should make Chicago before midnight if nothing -broke in the engine room. They were discussing the Michigan peach crop -when Henry drew up a chair and joined them. - -“Would you mind telling me,” said Henry to Beveridge, filling his pipe -as he spoke, “what you are going to do with Dick, here?” So Henry was -the one to open the subject. Dick's lips drew together and his hand -trembled, but his eyes were steady. - -Beveridge was evasive. “What am I going to do with him?” he repeated. - -“Yes. You will have a good deal of say about that, won't you?” - -“Why--yes, and no.” - -“Now that you know he had nothing to do with it, you 'll be able to get -him right off, won't you?” - -“Why--yes, so far as I know. I should expect it to turn out that way.” - -Henry saw that a definite answer was not to be expected, so he puffed -a moment, looking off to the green shore-line. Finally he said, “Your -man,--what's his name?” - -“Wilson?” - -“Yes, he's in pretty bad shape, isn't he?” - -“There's no doubt about that.” - -“Do you think he 'll pull through?” - -“I couldn't say.” - -“What would be the penalty if he didn't?” - -“That is for a judge and jury to decide.” - -“I suppose.” - -Henry paused again. Dick was gazing out at the water with fixed eyes. -This cool talk made him shudder. - -“I've been thinking this over,” Henry went on. “Of course, you caught -me red handed; and that, along with what I'm going to tell you, any time -when you're ready, gives you a pretty clear case against me. My outlook -isn't what you would call cheerful. I've never made a will, but I -guess now is about as good a time as any to get about it. I've got my -schooner, and I've got a little money put away,--some of it drawing -interest and some in the bank,--and what there is of it is to go to -Dick. He's the nearest approach to a relation I have, you know. And if I -were you, Dick, I should take some of it the first thing and pay up for -the _Anne_. That 'll make you more or less independent. Do you fellows -mind coming down into the cabin and fixing it up now?” - -“Certainly not,” said Beveridge, rising. - -Dick found it difficult to reply, but he followed them below, and sat -with them at the dining-table. Beveridge got pen, ink, and paper. - -“Now, I 'll tell you,” said Henry. “I 'll just make out sort of a schedule -of what I'm worth. It won't take long. I know just what it is. There, -now, I guess it 'll be enough to say that I devise and bequeath it all, -without any conditions or exceptions, to Dick, he to take everything of -mine for his own, to hold and to use in any way that he may choose. Will -you witness this, Beveridge?” - -“Certainly.” - -“We ought to have some others.” - -“I 'll get them.” Beveridge stepped out, and returned shortly with -Captain Sullivan and his second officer. These put their signatures -under that of the special agent and with the exchange of only a word -or two returned to their posts. Nothing could have been more -matter-of-fact, could have savored more strongly of humdrum, everyday -life. - -The three men sat there looking at the paper. Finally Henry, with a -smile, blotted it, folded it, and handed it to his cousin. “I'm going -to hand this over to you, Dick,” he said. “That's the easiest way of -disposing of it.” - -Dick accepted it and turned it slowly over and over in his hands. “I--of -course, Henry--I appreciate this, but--” and then his face surged with -color, and he broke out in a round voice: “What's the use of talking of -this sort of thing now! Wilson isn't gone yet. I don't believe he will -go either. You make my blood run cold! You'd better just--” - -“No,” Henry interrupted. “No, I'd rather leave it like this.” - -“But, look here, Henry,--why, great guns! You aren't even convicted of -illicit distilling yet, let alone--why, even if you should be, don't you -see, you might lose a few years, but--” - -“Oh, there wouldn't be any doubt about the conviction, Dick. The game is -up, so far as I am concerned. Supposing I should escape, what good would -it do me? I should be a fugitive. I should have to leave the country, -and go to a new place and begin all over again, just as I began here on -the Lakes twenty odd years ago. I have amounted to something here,--I -have held first place. I have kept these fellows,”--he indicated -Beveridge, with a slight upward turn at the corners of his mouth--“I -have kept these fellows guessing from the start. Anywhere else I should -be nobody, and at my age that doesn't appeal very strongly to a man. -Supposing, even, I could buy an acquittal and stay right on here, would -it be any better? You see, my boy, I have been ambitious in a way. I -have built up a machine--a new kind of a machine. If I could have been -let alone a year or so longer, I should have had everything running as -smooth and safe as the Republican County Committee. That was the one -thing I set out to do. But it's busted now. With these fellows once on -to the whole thing, it could never be carried on again. Oh, in a cheap, -shyster way, maybe; but that's not my way. It was my work and now it's -over. And when a man has come as near success as I have, and spent -the best part of his life working up toward it, he doesn't care about -beginning at the little end of something else. His mainspring is -broken.” - -They were silent. Henry was easily the most self-possessed of the three. -Finally Beveridge said:-- - -“You have spoken once or twice, Mr. Smiley, about telling us how you -worked this business.” - -“Yes, certainly, any time,--now, if you like.” - -“You won't mind if I take down the main points and then ask you to put -your name to it?” - -“Not at all. I supposed of course you would want to do that.” - -This cold-blooded courtesy brought Dick near to shuddering again. But he -straightened up in his chair and prepared to listen. - -“You say you are the man known as Whiskey Jim?” - -“Yes. That is the name the papers have given to the whole organization, -and the organization, of course, is me.” - -“Would you mind talking rather slowly? I know shorthand, but I'm -decidedly out of practice at it.” - -“Certainly not. Suppose I explain the organization in a few words.” - -“That 'll do first-rate.” - -“If I forget and get to going too fast, just stop me. You see, as master -of the _Schmidt_, doing a tramp lumber business all around Lake Michigan -and Lake Huron, I was able to run the whole thing at both ends and still -keep about my business. I didn't have to use the mails--I didn't have -to do a thing that didn't look as solemn and proper as the Methodist -minister and his parish calls.” - -“I see. It was ingenious--no doubt about it.” - -“To be on the safe side, I located my stills over in Canada.” - -“I know,--at Burnt Cove.” - -“Yes; it was about as inaccessible there as any place on the Lakes. And -as we didn't try to sell the stuff over there, but shipped it all across -to the States, we were really safe enough. I don't know what either -country could have done about it, so far as the stills are concerned.” - -“Suppose I take it up here, Mr. Smiley, do you mind?” - -“No, go ahead.” - -“Well, when you had got it put up and ready to ship, you brought it -across Lake Huron in Spencer's schooner.” - -“Yes--yes.” - -“And at Spencer's it was repacked in the timber.” - -Henry smiled a little at this. “Some of it was. Of course you know -better than to think that what I could bring down in a load of timber -once in a month, or two, or three, was my only way of getting the goods -to market.” - -“Oh, yes, of course.” - -“I have done things on a fairly large scale, you know. But you are right -in the main. Spencer's was the distributing point for all our goods. -The old man himself was what you might call the shipping clerk of the -organization. But we 'll go ahead with the timber scheme. That one line, -if you follow it up, will be enough to base your case on, won't it?” - -“Yes, for the present. Though you were concerned in the attempt to run a -pipe line under the Detroit River.” - -“No, not very deep. I put a little money into it, but when I saw who was -running it, I got out. I knew they would get nipped sooner or later. -They went at it wrong.” - -“Well, you brought your loaded timbers to the pier at Lakeville. From -there they were hauled by wagons to Captain Stenzenberger's yards. -Stenzenberger, working through Mc-Glory, distributed the stuff in -Chicago.” Henry shook his head with a touch of impatience. “You're -getting off the track there. Stenzenberger had nothing to do with it. I -fooled him through some of his men.” - -Beveridge looked incredulous. “So that's the way you want it to go down, -is it?” - -“That's the way it was.” - -“Excuse me, Smiley, but that's absurd. I already have a case against -Stenzenberger. Even if I hadn't, it would outrage common-sense to state -that this man, a lumber merchant, could handle quantities of hollow -timbers, could have them right there under his nose all this time, -without knowing it.” But Henry was stubborn. - -“Very well,” added Beveridge, “this is your statement. I will take down -just what you choose to say.” - -“You've got about enough there, I should imagine. Oh, about Wilson! I -was in the bushes just below the bridge, when he started to run around -the house, and I shot him. There, now, with the confession of the -smuggling and the shooting, you ought to have a case. Copy it out, -put it in the right legal shape, and I 'll sign it. All but the -Stenzen-berger part. I admit nothing about him.” - -“All right. I 'll put it down as you want. It makes no difference to me, -for you can never save him.” - -“One thing, Henry,” said Dick, “that I don't understand. What was -McGlory after when he ran the _Anne_ up to Burnt Cove that time?” - -“McGlory,” Henry replied, “was a fool. When you first told me about it, -I didn't know what to think myself, but after thinking it over, and from -the way he has talked since when he was a little drunk, I think I -have made it out. He has been planning for some time to skip with this -Estelle--desert his wife. He arranged it with her that time he came up -with you. And as what ready money he had was down in Chicago, where he -couldn't very well get at it without his wife knowing it, he took the -chance of getting to Burnt Cove while you were sleeping off--” Henry -smiled. “I guess old Spencer served you some pretty strong fluids up -there that day. Well, anyway, McGlory thought he could take quite a lot -of the stuff aboard, sell it through one of our regular trade channels, -and get off with the money without going home. He couldn't get it into -his head that you really knew nothing about the business. It was a crazy -thing to do.” - -“I should think so.” - -“McGlory and Roche are pretty good examples of the sort of thing I have -had to contend with. I've never been able to get good reliable men to -work for me.” - -Beveridge wanted to smile over the incongruity in this speech, but he -controlled himself and listened soberly. Henry went on:-- - -“If I could have handled it alone, or with only Spencer to help, you -would never have got me. But with such a big business, I had to employ -a good many men. That was my weak spot. I've known it all along and -dreaded it, but I had to run the risk. There's a risk in every business, -and that was the risk in mine. No, sir, if I could have had competent -men, I should be laughing to-day at the whole revenue system.” - -“I should take exception to that, Smiley,” said Beveridge. “Your men -weren't the only thing that gave you away, not by any means.” - -“Oh, weren't they?” - -“No, the most important clew was the label you used. But say, Smiley, -here is what puzzles me. Why is it that you, a man of unusual ability, -haven't put in your time at something respectable? The brains and work -you have wasted on smuggling would have made you a comfortable fortune -in some other line.” - -“What do you mean by 'respectable,' Beveridge,--politics, trading, -preaching?” - -“I guess you recognize the distinction.” - -“On the contrary, I don't recognize it at all. I asked for information.” - -“Oh, well, there is no use opening up that question. We all know the -difference between right and wrong, honesty and dishonesty.” - -“Do we? Do you?” - -“I have always supposed I did.” - -“You're an unusual man. I congratulate you.” - -“See here, Smiley, this is interesting. You don't mean to say that you -consider smuggling an honorable business?” - -“Why not?” - -“Why not! Why--why--” - -“It might clear your ideas, Beveridge, to go into this question a -little. Smuggling means, I suppose, the bringing of merchandise from, -say, Canada to this country.” - -“Dutiable merchandise, yes.” - -“What makes it dutiable?” - -“The law.” - -“What makes the law?” - -“The law is made by the people.” - -“What people?” - -“Oh, see here, Smiley, this--” - -“No, wait a minute. The trouble with you is you don't do your own -thinking; I 'll do a little for you. Take an imaginary case: There is -a little group of men in this country who manufacture, say, tacks. As -every man should, they are looking out for their own interests. They are -out to make money. The tacks mean nothing to them, except as they can be -turned into money. That is right and proper, isn't it?” - -“Certainly.” - -“Now suppose, among them all, they employ a good many thousand men in -their tack factories, all of them voters. Suppose they're rich, and -ready to contribute a neat little sum to the campaign fund. Now then, -if any other group of men start up, just over the Canadian line, where -labor is cheaper, making tacks, and underselling our tack market, the -natural thing for our tack men to do is to go to their representatives -in Congress and say, 'Here, if you want our votes and our money, you -must pass a law putting a duty on tacks.' Why do they say this? Because -with such a law they can make more money. The people aren't helped -by it, mind you; the people have to pay all the more. The only men to -profit by it are the little group of tack manufacturers who want to get -rich and fat at the expense of this public you talk about. Now do the -Congressmen fall into line and pass the law? Certainly. Why? -Because _they_ are helped by it. They get the votes and the money -contributions--and probably a neat bribe besides. All this while, mind -you, the people are out of the game. They are being robbed by a law that -was made entirely to enrich a little group of men. These bribe givers -and takers put up a job on us, the most dishonest kind of a job, and yet -you seem to think I'm dishonest, too, because I follow their example and -look out for number one.” - -“Hold on, Smiley, there's a fallacy there--” - -“Where? Point it out. I'm doing an honest business. The stuff I sell is -well made. Do you suppose I care what your government people think? Why, -the whole government system is a network of bribes and rake-offs and -private snaps.” - -“Of course, if you're an anarchist--” - -“Look here, Beveridge, this talk seems to be rather personal--suppose we -make it more so. Let's see if we can't find out what your motives are in -this business. Are they Christian, or patriotic, or are you, like myself -and the tack men, and the law-makers, looking out for number one? The -man that was out here before you came I bought off. But it didn't -take me long to see that you couldn't be bought. Now why? That's the -question. - -“Was it because you have principles against it? Not at all. Don't get -mad. I don't doubt a minute that you have some principles that you -learned in Sunday-school; but Lord, when a man's grown up and has his -living to fight for, do you think the Sunday-school has any chance. So, -you see, I thought it over, and reasoned it out about like this: You and -the other man were both ambitious, but where he wanted money, you -want position. It's to your interest to keep the confidence of your -superiors. That's why I couldn't buy you; it's all right, you've done -a good job, but don't try to persuade yourself that your integrity -is armor plate, that you've been doing right for the good of the -Sunday-school or from patriotic motives. Just because you happen to be -on the winning side, because your gang happens to be on top, don't -make the mistake of thinking you're better than the rest of us. For you -aren't.” - -Dick saw that Beveridge's tongue was trembling with a keen retort, and -he broke in, “But you haven't told how I was worked into this, Henry.” - -“Oh, that's simple. I wanted to boost you along in the world, but you -were young and had notions. So I thought if I could once make you bring -down a load of the stuff without knowing it, you would find yourself in -for it, and then I could make you see things in the right proportions. -I wanted you, bad. With one such man as you, I could have fooled them -forever.” He paused and added meditatively: “And I would have made you -a rich man, Dick. But just when I had it arranged, you came and told me -that you had gone daffy over Cap'n Fargo's little girl, and I saw I had -as good as lost you. Yes, sir, I could have made your fortune. Well, -anyhow, you 'll get something out of it, after--” - -Beveridge rose to go to his room, gathering up the papers. “I'm going to -write this out now, boys. I 'll see you later.” - -Late in the evening the statement was ready. Henry read it through, -suggested a few emendations, and signed it. Then the three went on deck. - -Far down on the southwestern horizon was a row of twinkling lights. -Above them, in the sky, was spread a warm glow. - -“We're getting along,” said Henry. “There's Chicago.” - -“Oh, is it?” exclaimed Beveridge with interest. - -“Yes. We 'll soon be in. Isn't it about time to put the handcuffs on me?” - -Beveridge smiled. “That will hardly be necessary.” - -“But Chicago's a bad town. I might get away from you.” - -“We won't worry about that.” - -“Do you carry the things on you? I never saw any.” - -Beveridge drew a pair from his hip pocket, and handed them to Henry. - -“How do they work?” - -“Easily. Slip them on--this way.” - -There was a click and Henry's hands were chained together. - -“That's easy enough, isn't it?” said he, walking a few steps up and down -the deck, surveying himself. Then he went to the rail and leaned on it, -looking silently off toward the lights. - -Just what came next, Dick never could remember. He had turned away to -gaze at the alternating red-and-white lights that marked Grosse Pointe -and home, so that he saw little more than Henry's swift movement and -Beveridge's start. An instant more and he was standing at the rail -with Beveridge, in the place where Henry had been standing a moment -before--gazing down at the foam that fell away from the bows. He heard -the special agent sing out: “Stop her, stop her, Cap'n! Man overboard!” - He was conscious that the engines had stopped; and he heard the -Captain's voice from the bridge: “No use! He went under the wheel!” Then -came the order to lower a boat, and the rush of feet across the deck. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--IN WHICH BEVERIDGE SURPRISES HIMSELF - - -[Illustration: 0416] - -DICK and Beveridge stood on the wharf at Chicago. The lights that -wavered over their faces from the lanterns of the Foote and from the arc -lamp overhead showed them sober, silent. The _camaraderie_ of the chase -and of the voyage that followed had ceased to be. Beveridge's elation -had been subdued by the distressing event of the evening, but still -the mind behind his decorously quiet face was teeming with plans and -schemes. Dick was gloomy, bewildered. Both seemed to be waiting for -something. They stood watching the bustle aboard the revenue cutter as -the crew made her snug for the night, until finally Dick spoke:-- - -“You haven't told me yet what I'm to do next, Bill.” - -“What you're to do next?” - -“Why--yes. You see--” - -“Go on. I'm listening.” - -But Dick found it hard to go on. “I didn't know but what--” - -Beveridge turned abruptly at a noise up the street, placed two fingers -in his mouth, and whistled. And after a moment Dick saw what had kept -him waiting. It was no sense of delicacy. Beveridge had been looking for -a carriage. “Get in, Smiley,” he said, when the driver pulled up. - -“Get in?” - -“Yes--after you.” - -“You mean, then--” - -“Well, what?” - -“I didn't suppose after what has happened that you'd need me any -longer.” - -“Not need you, Smiley?” They were seated within the vehicle now, the -door was shut, and the driver, the special agent's whispered word in -his ear, was whipping up his horses. “I'm afraid you don't understand. I -have no authority to let you off.” - -It was his manner more than his words that suddenly swept away Dick's -delicacy and aroused his anger. “The hell you haven't!” was his reply. - -“Certainly not.” - -“You don't expect me to believe that. You have no case against me now.” - -“I grant you that. And I can promise you that you won't be detained more -than a few days at the outside. But this business has passed up out of -my hands now. All I can do is to deliver you up, make my report, and set -the machinery in motion for your release.” - -Dick sat motionless, gazing into the shadows before him. “What right had -you to let Pink go, then?” - -“That was different.” - -“How?--How?” - -“Nobody ever looked on Harper as of any importance in the business.” - -“That is no answer. You're holding me on a technicality. The importance -of the man makes no difference when you are dealing in red tape.” - -“See here, Smiley, don't you think you had better stop abusing me, and -take a sensible view of it?” - -As he spoke, they were crossing State Street, and the brighter light -illuminated the interior of the carriage. For reply, Dick turned and -looked at his custodian, looked him through and through with a gaze of -profound contempt. Words were not necessary; Beveridge saw that Dick -had fathomed his motives, Dick saw that he was understood. At the moment -neither was thinking of the gloomy city that was closing in around -them; for both saw the wide, free beach, the gleaming lake, the two long -piers, the quaint little house on stilts, the upper balcony with its -burden of forget-me-nots and geraniums and all the blossoms that Annie -loved. And both had in their nostrils the refreshing smell of the east -wind--made up of all the faint mingled odors of Lake Michigan--a little -pine in it, a little fish in it, but, more than all, the health and -strength and wholesome sweetness of the Lakes. And both were silent -while the carriage rattled along, while they stepped out, crossed the -walk, and entered a stone building with barred windows, while, with -Beveridge on one side and a guard on the other, Dick walked to his cell. - -Beveridge caught the half-past eight train for Lakeville the next -morning, and walked straight down to the house on stilts. Annie was out -on the lake, her mother said, looking at him, while she said it, and -after, with doubtful, questioning eyes. So he sat down on the steps and -looked out over the beach and the water. It was a fine warm day, with -just breeze enough to ripple, the lake from shore to horizon, and set it -sparkling in the sun. The sky was blue and white; and the cloud shadows -here and there on the water took varied and varying colors--deep blue, -yellow, sea-green. The shore-line dwindled off to the northward in long -scallops, every line of the yellow beach cut out cleanly, every oak on -the bluff outlined sharply. In truth, it was a glorious day--just the -day Beveridge would have chosen had the choice been his--the day of -days, on which he was to make the last arrangements in clinching his -success, in assuring his future. Annie had gone out to the nets with her -father. She was, at the moment, rowing him in. On other days Beveridge -had sat here and watched her coming in from the nets, with a great box -of whitefish aboard. - -The boat grounded on the sand. Captain Fargo stepped out and drew it up. -Beveridge rose and smiled lazily while he waited for Annie to come up -to the steps. The sun had been in her eyes, and at first she did not see -him distinctly. - -“Well,” said Beveridge, “hello! Didn't expect to see me, did you?” - -She stopped abruptly and looked at him. He did not know just how to -interpret her expression. - -“Aren't you going to speak to me, Annie?” Her answer, when it came, -blanketed him, and left him, so to speak, flapping in the wind. She -said, “What have you done with Dick?” - -“Dick? Why--oh, he's all right.” - -“Why hasn't he been back?” - -“He 'll be around all right. They thought it would be necessary to hold -him for a few days.” - -“To hold him,--where?” - -“Don't you see--” - -“Is he in prison?” - -“Yes, but that will be fixed--” - -“In Chicago?” - -“Yes, he--” - -“Father,” said she, “Dick's in prison. We must go down to see him.” - And she turned back to Beveridge with the question, “When can we get a -train?” - -What could Beveridge do but fumble in his pockets, bring out a handful -of papers, look them over until he found a time-table, and announce that -the next train was the ten-twelve? - -“You will have to show us how to get there, Mr. Beveridge,” said -Annie. “Come and change your clothes, father. Will you wait here, Mr. -Beveridge?” - -Beveridge said that he would, certainly. And then when father and -daughter had hurried into the house, and after Captain Fargo had turned -his box of fish over to a boy who acted on occasions as his helper, the -special agent sat down again and looked at the Lake. The sun was shining -on, bright as ever; the water was still varicolored, the sky still -blue-and-white; but he saw them not. - -In something more than twenty minutes Annie was down and waiting -impatiently for her father. Her whole mind was bent on getting to town. -She hardly saw Beveridge. As for him, chagrined as he was, he had to -admit that she looked very pretty in her trim blue gown. He had never -before seen her dressed for the city. He was inclined to feel awed as -well as bewildered. Then, finally, appeared the Captain in his Sunday -clothes. And the three set out for the train and Dick. - -All the way Annie was preoccupied. Hardly a word could Beveridge get. -From the train they hurried over to the stone building with the barred -windows. Here the special agent held a short, whispered conversation -which ended in the unbarring of doors and the word to follow down a -corridor. And finally the last door was opened and Dick stood before -them, dishevelled, unshaven, but indisputably Dick. Beveridge found -himself slipping into the background when Annie and the prisoner were -clasping hands without a word; but he watched them. He saw the question -in Dick's eyes,--the something deep and burning, the something that -was _not_ a question, in Annie's. He saw that she did not think of -withdrawing her hand; he knew that in one short moment more her arms -would be thrown around Dick's neck. He turned away, and, leaving them -there, walked out into the street. - -The lights were out at “The Teamster's Friend.” It was ten o'clock at -night, and from Stenzenberger's lumber office on one corner through to -the corner at the farther end of the block the street was deserted. But -Beveridge, who slowly turned the corner by the lumber yard,--Beveridge, -who had passed the most turbulent day of his life trying to realize that -he had lost Annie,--knew where to look. Lonely, miserable, plunged into -dejection now that the strain was over, he turned into the driveway that -led to the sheds in the rear of the saloon, and, pausing, looked up. -Yes, there was a light in the upper rear window. He whistled. The -curtain went up a little way--some one was looking down. The curtain -went down again; the light slowly disappeared, leaving grotesque shadows -on the curtain as it was carried from the room. Steps sounded in the -hall; the bolt slipped back, and Madge stood in the doorway. - -“Hello,” said Beveridge. “Here I am.” - -“Oh,” cried Madge, with what sounded like a gasp of relief. She drew him -quickly in, closed and locked the door, and stood looking at him. - -“I had to go out of town, Madge. I didn't get in till late last night. I -have some news for you.” - -“Come in,” she said. And they went back into the dining room, where she -had set down the lamp. They took chairs on opposite sides of the table. -Madge rested her elbows on the red cloth, propped her chin on her -two hands, and waited. Beveridge, while he looked at her, was rapidly -getting back his self-possession. - -“Well, Madge, there's a good deal to tell you. McGlory--” - -She waited as long as she could, then exclaimed, in an uncertain voice: -“What about him? Where is he?” - -“He's gone.” - -“Where?” - -“Nobody on earth can tell you that.” - -She leaned across the table and caught his arm. “Is he dead?” - -“Yes, dead--and buried.” - -She leaned back in her chair. She could not take her eyes from his face, -and yet she said nothing. It could not be said that her face showed -a trace of happiness, but there was, nevertheless, a strange sort of -relief there. - -For a long time neither spoke. But Beveridge's impetuous nature could -not long endure this silence. “Well, Madge,” he broke out, “do you still -want me?” - -She did not answer. - -“That's what I've come to know. If you 'll do it, we will be married -to-night.” - -“You couldn't--” her voice was low and dreamy. “You couldn't get a -license before to-morrow,” she said. - -“It's queer,” said Dick, “but that is the Beveridge of it. You can't -tell what he is going to do next. I don't believe he knows himself half -the time.” - -The _Captain_, with Annie at the tiller and Dick stretched lazily out -beside her, was skimming and bounding along off the Grosse Pointe light. - -“Wasn't it--” Annie wore a conscious expression--“wasn't it rather -sudden?” - -“It must have been. But that is Beveridge.” - -“And she was a saloon keeper's wife?” - -“Yes,--but it wasn't so bad as it sounds when you say it that way. She -was too good for McGlory.” - -“Oh, you--you know her?” - -“I've seen her, yes.” - -“But isn't she--old?” - -“Not so very. She can't be much older than Beveridge. She is good -looking--almost pretty. And she looks sort of--well, when you saw her -there in McGlory's place, it seemed too bad. She was quiet, and she -looked as if she was made for something better.” - -They were silent for a time. Then their eyes met, and she missed his -answering smile. “What is it, Dick?” she asked. - -“I was thinking about Henry--about what he was, and then what he did for -me. We have everything to thank him for, you and I, Annie.” He paused, -then went on. “I suppose he was wrong--he must have been wrong if we -are to believe in law at all. But that night on the steamer, when he -was telling us about it, I watched him and Beveridge both pretty -closely,--the expression of their faces and their eyes. The way a man -looks at you tells so much, Annie. And I knew all the while, though -Beveridge was standing there for the law, and Henry for what they call -crime, still--” - -“What, Dick?” - -“--if I were in a tight place again and had to choose which of those two -men to trust my life with, I shouldn't need to stop to think. It would -be Henry, every time.” - -He sat up to shift his position, when something which he saw on the -northern horizon drove the clouds from his face. This was a great day -for Dick. “Look, Annie!” He was pointing eagerly. “Look there!” - -“Where?” - -“Can't you see it--the _Anne?_” - -Then Annie's heart leaped too. And she ordered Dick to ease off the -sheet, adding only, “We 'll meet her, shan't we?” To which Dick responded -with a nod. - -So they headed north, with everything drawing full and the bubbles -dancing by. Pink saw them and came up into the wind. The _Captain_ -slipped alongside, a sailor caught the painter, Dick handed Annie up, -clambered after, stepped to the wheel, and they swung slowly off. - -“Make the boat fast astern,” called Dick to one of the revenue cutter -men. - -“All right, sir.” - -“Things gone all right, Pink?” - -“First class. Not much wind in the Straits.” - -“I hardly thought there would be.” - -Annie was perched on the cabin trunk, looking at Dick with laughing -eyes. She enjoyed watching him, she liked his easy way of falling into -the command of his schooner, she admired the muscles on his forearm (for -he had rolled up his sleeves). He caught her glance. “Want to take her, -Annie?” - -“Oh, yes, Dick. Will you let me?” - -“If you want to.” - -So Annie took the wheel. She stood there, a merry, graceful -figure,--though Dick kept close by and reached out a steadying hand now -and then,--while the schooner came about, headed for the long pier, ran -up neatly into her berth, threw out her lines, and stopped, her voyage -over. - -_[Note:--In the spring, when the ice broke up in the streams of -Michigan, a party of lumbermen found what had been the body of a man -lying in a shallow creek, deep in the forest. Particulars would be -unpleasant. It is enough to say that they buried him there, being rough -men and far from a coroner; and that on a water-soaked envelope in his -pocket was found a name which, as nearly as anything, seemed to spell -“Roche.” To the persons of this tale his end remained a mystery. It -might be added that Beveridge found more difficulty than he had foreseen -in weaving his net around Stenzenberger. In fact the special agent had -failed, at last accounts, to disturb the serenity of the lumber dealer, -in spite of the moral certainty that his share in the guilt was the -largest of any. Perhaps his secret went to the bottom of Lake Michigan -with Henry Smiley.--S.M.]_ - -[Illustration: 0431] - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry Anne, by Samuel Merwin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - -***** This file should be named 51916-0.txt or 51916-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/1/51916/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Merry Anne - -Author: Samuel Merwin - -Illustrator: Thomas Fogarty - -Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51916] -Last Updated: March 13, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE MERRY ANNE - </h1> - <h2> - By Samuel Merwin - </h2> - <h3> - Illustrated by Thomas Fogarty - </h3> - <h4> - The Macmillan Company - </h4> - <h5> - 1904 - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0010.jpg" alt="0010 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0010.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0011.jpg" alt="0011 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0011.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0012.jpg" alt="0012 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0012.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE MERRY ANNE</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—DICK AND HIS MERRY ANNE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—THE NEW MATE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—AT THE HOUSE ON STILTS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—THE CIRCLE MARK </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V—BURNT COVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI—THE RED SEAL LABEL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—DRAWING TOGETHER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII—THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—THE CHASE BEGINS—THURSDAY - MORNING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X—THURSDAY NIGHT—THE GINGHAM - DRESS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI—THURSDAY NIGHT—VAN - DEELEN'S BRIDGE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—THE MEETING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII—WHISKEY JIM </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV—HARBOR LIGHTS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XIV—IN WHICH BEVERIDGE SURPRISES - HIMSELF </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE MERRY ANNE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figleft" style="width:20%;"> - <img src="images/9013.jpg" alt="9013 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/9013.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - Dear H. K. TV.: - </p> - <p> - This tale dedicates itself to you as a matter of right. For we grew up - together on the bank of Lake Michigan; and you have not forgotten, over - there in Paris, the real house on stilts, nor the miles we have tramped - along the beach, nor, I am sure, the grim old life-saver on the near - Ludington, and his sturdy scorn for our student life-savers at Evanston. - And the endless night on Black Lake, with Klondike Andrews at the tiller - and never a breath of wind, we shall not forget that. Once we differed: I - failed to tempt you into a paddle in the Oki, one fresh spring day three - years ago; but then, your instinct of self-preservation always worked - better than mine, as the adventure in the Swampscott dory will recall to - you. - </p> - <p> - But, after all, these doings do not make up the reason why the story is - partly yours; nor do the changes in the text that sprang from your - friendly comment. I will tell you the real reason. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> - </p> - <div class="figright" style="width:20%;"> - <img src="images/8014.jpg" alt="8014 " width="100%" /><br /><a - href="images/8014.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </div> - <p> - Early, very early, one summer morning, you and I stood on the wheel-house - of the P'ere Marquette Steamer No. 4—or was it the No. 3—a few - hours from Milwaukee. The Lake was still, the thick mist was faintly - illuminated by the hidden sun. Of a sudden, while the steamer was - throbbing through the silence, a motionless schooner, painted blue, with a - man in a red shirt at the wheel, loomed through the mist, stood out for - one vivid moment, then faded away. - </p> - <p> - That schooner was the Merry Anne; and the man at the wheel was Dick - Smiley. What if he should some day chance upon this tale and declare it - untrue? know better, for we saw it there. - </p> - <h3> - S. M. - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—DICK AND HIS MERRY ANNE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE <i>Merry Anne</i> - was the one lumber schooner on Lake Michigan that always appeared freshly - painted; it was Dick Smiley's wildest extravagance to keep her so. Sky - blue she was (Annie's favorite color), with a broad white line below the - rail; and to see her running down on the north wind, her sails white in - the sun, her bow laying the waves aside in gentle rolls to port and - starboard, her captain balancing easily at the wheel, in red shirt, red - and blue neckerchief, and slouch hat, was to feel stirring in one the old - spirit of the Lakes. - </p> - <p> - It was a lowering day off Manistee. Out on the horizon, now and then - dipping below it, a tug was struggling to hold two barges up into the - wind. Within the harbor, at the wharf of the lumber company, lay the <i>Merry - Anne</i>. Two of her crew were below, sleeping off an overdose of Manistee - whiskey. The third, a boy of seventeen, got up in slavish imitation of his - captain,—red shirt, slouch hat, and all,—was at work lashing - down the deck load. Roche, the mate, stood on the wharf, the centre of a - little group of stevedores and rivermen. “Hi there, Pink,” he shouted at - the red shirt, “what you doin' there?” - </p> - <p> - The boy threw a sweeping glance lake-ward before replying, “Makin' fast.” - </p> - <p> - “That 'll do for you. There won't be no start <i>this</i> afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - “But Cap' Smiley said—” - </p> - <p> - “None o' your lip, or I 'll Cap' Smiley you. - </p> - <p> - “Pretty ugly, out there, all right enough,” observed a riverman. “Cornin' - up worse, too. Give you a stiff time with all that stuff aboard.” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't so sure about that,” said Roche, with a swagger. “If <i>I</i> was - cap'n o' this schooner, she'd start on the minute, but Smiley's one o' - your fair-weather sort.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure he is. He done a heap o' talkin' about that time he brung the <i>William - Jones</i> into Black Lake before the wind, the day the <i>John T. Eversley</i> - was lost; but Billy Underdown was sailin' with him then, and he told me - hisself that he had the wheel all the way—Smiley never done a thing - but hang on to the companionway and holler at him to look out for the - north set o' the surf outside the piers; and there's my little Andy that - ain't nine year old till the sixth o' September, could ha' told him the - surf sets south off Black Lake, with a northwest wind. If it hadn't been - for Billy, the Lord only knows where Dick Smiley'd be to-day.” - </p> - <p> - A tug hand had joined the group, and now he addressed himself to Roche. - </p> - <p> - “Cap'n Peters wants to know if you're a-goin' to try to make it, Mr. - Roche.” - </p> - <p> - “Not by a dam' sight.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—I guess he won't be sorry to wait till mornin'. What time do - you think you 'll want us?” - </p> - <p> - “Six o'clock sharp.” - </p> - <p> - “Them's Cap'n Smiley's orders, is they?” - </p> - <p> - “Them's <i>my</i> orders, and they're good enough for you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's all right, of course, only Cap'n Peters, he said if 'twas - anybody else, he'd just tie up and wait, but there ain't never any - tellin', he says, what Dick Smiley 'll take it into his head to do.” - </p> - <p> - “You tell your cap'n that Mr. Roche said to come at six in the mornin'.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I 'll tell him. Say—Cap'n Smiley ain't anywhere around, - is he?” - </p> - <p> - “<i>No, Cap'n Smiley ain t anywheres around!</i>” mimicked Roche, angrily. - “If you want to know whereabouts Cap'n Smiley is, he's uptown skylarkin', - that's where <i>he</i> is.” - </p> - <p> - The river hands laughed at this. - </p> - <p> - “I reckon he's somethin' of a hand for the ladies, Dick Smiley is, with - them blue eyes o' his'n,” said one. “I ain't a-tellin', you understand, - but there's boys in town here that could let you know a thing or two if - they was minded.” - </p> - <p> - As a matter of fact, Dick was at that moment in an up-town jewellery shop, - fingering a necklace of coral. - </p> - <p> - “I want a longer one,” he was saying, “with something pretty hanging on - the end of it—there, that's the boy—the one with big rough - beads and the red rose carved on the end.” - </p> - <p> - “Must be somebody's birthday, Captain,” observed the jeweller, with a - wink. - </p> - <p> - And Dick, who could never resist a wink, replied: “That's what. Day after - to-morrow, too, and I haven't any too much time to make it in.” - </p> - <p> - “Here's a nice piece—if she likes the real red.” - </p> - <p> - Dick took it in his hands and nodded over it. “I think that would please - her. She likes bright colors.” He drew a wallet from a hip pocket and - disclosed a thick bundle of bills. - </p> - <p> - “I shouldn't think you'd like to carry so much money on you, Captain, in - your line of work.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't so much. They are most all ones.” But the jeweller, seeing a - double X on the top, only smiled and remarked that it was a dark day. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, too dark. I don't like it. Makes me think of the cyclone three years - ago April, when the <i>Kate Howard</i> went down off Lakeville. I spent - three hours roosting on the topmast that day. It was black then, like - this. If it keeps up, you 'll have to turn on your lights in here.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess I will. It wouldn't hurt now. Well, good-by, Captain. Drop in again - next time you run in here.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. But there's no telling when that will be. I have to go where - Captain Stenzenberger sends me, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't own your schooner yet, then?” - </p> - <p> - “No; only a quarter of it. Well, good-by.” And he left the shop with the - corals, securely wrapped, stowed in an inside pocket. - </p> - <p> - The first big drops of rain were falling when he reached the schooner. The - deck was deserted, but he found Roche and his wharf acquaintances settled - comfortably in the cabin. Their talk stopped abruptly at the sight of his - boots coming down the companionway. - </p> - <p> - “Why isn't the load lashed down, Pete?” he asked, addressing Roche. - </p> - <p> - “Why—oh, it was lookin' so bad, I thought we'd better wait till you - come.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's the tug? Don't Peters know we want him?” - </p> - <p> - The loungers were silent. All looked at Roche. - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes—sure. He ain't showed up yet, though.” - </p> - <p> - “You ain't goin' to try to make it, are you, Cap'n?” asked a riverman. - </p> - <p> - “Going to try? We <i>are</i> going to make it, if that's what you mean.” - </p> - <p> - One of the men rose. “I'm going up the wharf, Cap'n. If you like, I 'll - speak to Peters.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I wish you would. And say, Pete, you take Pink and see that - everything is down solid. I don't care to distribute those two-by-fours - all down the east coast.” - </p> - <p> - Roche went out, and the others got up one by one and took shelter in the - lee of a lumber pile on the wharf. A little later, when he saw the tug - steaming up the river, Roche shook the rain from his eyes and looked long - at the black cloud billows that were rolling up from the northwest, then - he slipped below and took a strong pull at his flask. The tug came - alongside, and then Roche sought Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Cap'n, what's the use?” he said in an agitated voice. “Don't you see - we're runnin' our nose right into it? Why, if we was a - three-hundred-footer, we'd have our hands full out there. I don't like to - say nothin', but—” - </p> - <p> - Smiley, his hat jammed on the back of his head, his shirt, now dripping - wet, clinging to his trunk and outlining bunches of muscle on his - shoulders and back, his light hair stringing down over his forehead, - merely looked at him curiously. - </p> - <p> - “You see how it is, Cap'n, I—” - </p> - <p> - “What are you talking about? All right, Pink, make fast there! Who's - running this schooner, you or me?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don't mean nothin', Cap'n; but seein' there ain't no particular - hurry—” - </p> - <p> - “No hurry! Why, man, I've got to lay alongside the Lakeville pier by - Wednesday night, or break something. What's the matter with you, anyhow? - Lost your nerve?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I ain't lost my nerve. And you ain't got no call to talk that way to - me, Dick Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - “Here, here, Pete, none of that. We're going to pull out in just about two - minutes. If you aren't good for it, I 'll wait long enough to tumble your - slops ashore. Put your mind on it now—are you coming or not?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'm cornin', Cap'n, of course, but—” - </p> - <p> - “Shut up, then.” - </p> - <p> - The idlers on the wharf had not heard what was said, but they saw Roche - change color and duck below for another pull at his flask. - </p> - <p> - The tug swung out into the stream; the <i>Merry Anne</i> fell slowly away - from the wharf. - </p> - <p> - “Call up those loafers, Pete,” shouted Smiley, as he rested his hands on - the wheel. The two sailors, roused by a shake and an oath, scrambled - drowsily upon the deck with red eyes and unsettled nerves, and were set to - work raising the jib and double-reefing foresail and mainsail. Captain - Peters sounded three blasts for the first bridge, and headed down-stream. - </p> - <p> - Passing on through the narrow draws of the bridges and between the - buildings that lined the river, the <i>Merry Anne</i> drew near to the - long piers that formed the entrance to the channel. And Roche, standing - with flushed face by the foremast, looked out over the piers at the angry - lake, now a lead-gray color, here streaked with foam, there half obscured - by the driving squalls. His eyes followed the track of one squall after - another as they tore their way at right angles to the surf. - </p> - <p> - Already the <i>Anne</i> had begun to stagger. At the end of the towing - hawser the tug was nosing into the half-spent rollers that got in between - the piers, and was tossing the spray up into the wind. - </p> - <p> - One of the life-saving crew, in shining oilskins, was walking the pier; he - paused and looked at them—even called out some words that the wind - took from his lips and mockingly swept away. Roche looked at him with dull - eyes; saw his lips moving behind his hollowed hands; looked out again at - the muddy streaks and the whirling mist, out beyond at the two barges - laboring on the horizon, gazed at the white and yellow surf. Then his eye - lighted a little, and he made his way back to the wheel. - </p> - <p> - “Don't be a fool, Dick,” he shouted. “Just look a' that and tell me you - can make it. I know better. I'm an old friend, Dick, and I like you - better'n anybody, but you mustn't be a dam' fool. Ain't no use bein' a - dam' fool.” - </p> - <p> - “Who are you talking to?” - </p> - <p> - “Lemme blow the horn, Dick.'Taint too late to stop 'em. We can get back - all right—start in the mornin'. Don't you see, Dick—” - </p> - <p> - Smiley's eyes were fixed keenly on him for a moment; then they swept to - the windward pier. He snatched the horn from Roche's hand and blew a - blast. - </p> - <p> - The sailors up forward heard it, and shouted and waved their arms. A tug - hand, seeing the commotion, though he heard nothing, finally was made to - understand, and Captain Peters slowed his engines. Smiley, meanwhile, was - steering up close to the windward pier. - </p> - <p> - “Tumble off there, Pete,” he ordered. “Quick, now.” - </p> - <p> - “What you going to do to me? Ain't goin' to put me off there, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Get a move on, or I 'll throw you off. There's no room for you here.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on there, Dick; I ain't got no clothes or nothin'. And you owe me my - pay—” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll have to go to Cap'n Stenzenberger about that. Here, Pink, heave - him off. Quick, now!” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you lay your hand on me, Pink Harper—” - </p> - <p> - But the words were lost. The young sailor in the red shirt fairly pitched - him over the rail. The life saver, running alongside, gave him a hand. - Captain Peters was leaning out impatiently from his wheel-house door, and - now at the signal he dove back and hurriedly rang for full steam ahead; it - was no place to run chances. And as the schooner passed out into the open - lake, leaving the lighthouse behind her, and soon afterward casting off - the tug, there was no time to look back at the raging figure on the pier. - Though once, to be sure, Dick had turned with a laugh and shouted out a - few lines of a wild parody on the song of the day, “Baby Mine.” - </p> - <p> - The song proved so amusing that, when they were free of the tug and were - careening gayly off to the southwest with all fast on board and a boiling - sea around them, he took it up again. And braced at a sharp angle with the - deck, one eye on the sails, another cast to windward, his brown hands - knotted around the spokes of the wheel, he sang away at the top of his - lungs:—= - </p> - <p>"He is coming down the Rhine. - </p> - <p>With a bellyful of wine,"= - </p> - <p> - Young Harper worked his way aft along the upper rail. His eye fell on the - figure of his captain, and he laughed and nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Lively goin', Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - Lively it certainly was. - </p> - <p> - “Guess there ain't no doubt about <i>our</i> makin' it!” - </p> - <p> - “Doubt your uncle!” roared the Captain. And he winked at his young - admirer. - </p> - <p> - “Guess Mr. Roche didn't like the looks of it.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess not.” - </p> - <p> - Harper crept forward again. And Smiley, with a laugh in his eye, squared - his chest to the storm, and thought of the necklace stowed away in the - cabin; and then he thought of her who was to be its owner day after - to-morrow, and “I wonder if we will make it,” thought he; “I wonder!” - </p> - <p> - And make it they did. Sliding gayly up into a humming southwest wind, with - every rag up and the sheets hauled home, with the bluest of skies above - them and the bluest of water beneath (for the Lakes play at April weather - all around the calendar), Wednesday afternoon found them turning Grosse - Pointe. - </p> - <p> - The bright new paint was prematurely old now, the small boat was missing - from the stern davits, the cabin windows had been crushed in, and one - sailor carried his arm in a sling, but they had made it. Harper, - hollow-eyed, but merry, had the wheel; Smiley was below, snatching his - first nap in forty-eight hours, with the red corals under his head. - </p> - <p> - “Ole,” called Harper, “wake up the Cap'n, will you? I can't leave the - wheel. He said we was to call him off Grosse Pointe.” - </p> - <p> - So Ole called him, and was soon followed back on deck by another - hollow-eyed figure. - </p> - <p> - “Guess it's just as well Mr. Roche didn't come along,” observed the boy, - as he relinquished the wheel. “<i>He'd</i>'a' had all he wanted, and no - mistake.” - </p> - <p> - “He had enough to start with. There wasn't any room for drunks this trip.” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke, Smiley was running his eye over the familiar yellow bluffs, - glancing at the lighthouse tower, at the stack of the water works farther - down the coast, at the green billows of foliage with here and there a - spire rising above them, and, last and longest, at the two piers that - reached far out into the Lake,—one black with coal sheds, the other - and nearer, yellow with new lumber. - </p> - <p> - Between these piers, built in the curve of the beach and nestling under - the bluff, was a curious patchwork of a house. Built of odds and ends of - lumber, even, in the rear, of driftwood, perched up on piles so that the - higher waves might run up under the kitchen floor, small wonder that the - youngsters of the shore had dubbed it “the house on stilts.” - </p> - <p> - Old Captain Fargo (and who was not a “Captain” in those days!) had built - it with his own hands, just as he had built every one of the sailboats and - rowboats that strewed the beach, and had woven every one of the nets that - were wound on reels up there under the bluff. - </p> - <p> - A surprisingly spacious old house it was, too, with a room for Annie - upstairs on the Lake side, looking out on a porch that was just large - enough to hold her pots and boxes of geraniums and nasturtiums and - forget-me-nots. - </p> - <p> - Smiley could not see the house yet; it was hidden by the lumber piles on - the pier. But his eyes knew where to look, and they lingered there, all - the while that his sailor's sixth sense was watching the set of the sails - and the scudding ripples that marked the wind puffs. He wore a clean red - shirt to-day and a neckerchief that lay in even folds around his neck. - Redolent of soap he was, his face and hands scrubbed until they shone. And - still his eyes tried to look through fifty feet of lumber to the little - flowering porch, until a sail came in sight around the end of the pier. - Then he straightened up, and shifted his grip on the spokes. - </p> - <p> - The small boat was also blue with a white stripe. At the stern sat a - single figure. But though they were still too far apart to distinguish - features, Dick knew that the figure was that of a girl—a girl of a - fine, healthy carriage, her face tanned an even brown, and a laugh in her - black eyes. He knew, even before he brought his glass to bear on her, that - she was dressed in a blue sailor suit, with a rolling blue-and-white - collar cut V-shape and giving a glimpse of her round brown neck. He knew - that her black hair was gathered simply with a ribbon and left to hang - about her shoulders, that her arms were bared to the elbow. He could see - that she was carrying a few yards more sail than was safe for a catboat in - that breeze, and there was a laugh in his own eyes as he shook his head - over her recklessness. He knew that it would do no good to speak to her - about it; and her father and mother had never been able to look upon her - with any but fond, foolish eyes. - </p> - <p> - Steadily the <i>Merry Anne</i> drew in toward the pier; rapidly the <i>Captain</i>—so - Annie called her boat—came bobbing and skimming out to meet her. A - few moments more and Dick could wave his hat and shout, “Ahoy, there!” And - he heard in reply, as he had known that he should, a merry “Ahoy, there! I - 'll beat you in!” And then they raced for it, Annie gaining, as she - generally could, while the schooner was laboriously coming about, and - working in slowly under reduced sail. She ran in close to the pier, came - up into the wind, and waited there while the crew were making the schooner - fast. - </p> - <p> - At length the stevedores started unloading the lumber and Dick was free. - He leaned on the rail and looked down at Annie who had by this time come - alongside; and he saw that she had a bunch of blue-and-white - forget-me-nots in her hair. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she said, looking up, and driving all power of consecutive thought - out of Dick's head, as she always did when she rested her black eyes full - on his, “well, I beat you.” - </p> - <p> - “Take me aboard, Annie. I've got something for you.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, come down. You can take the sheet.” - </p> - <p> - Dick pushed off from the schooner's side and the <i>Captain</i> filled - away toward the shore. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Annie, come about. I don't have to go in yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Where do you want to go?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care—run out a little way.” - </p> - <p> - Annie brought her about and Dick watched her with admiring eyes. “Well, - now,” he began, as they settled down for a run off the wind, “I didn't - know whether I was going to get here to-day or not.” - </p> - <p> - “It <i>was</i> pretty bad.” - </p> - <p> - “You were thinking of me, weren't you, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - She smiled and gave her attention to the boat. - </p> - <p> - “Roche was drunk, and I had to leave him at Manistee.” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't come down shorthanded, did you, Dick,—in that storm?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded. - </p> - <p> - “But how? You couldn't have got much sleep.” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't get any till this noon.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, that's just like you, Dick, always running risks when you don't have - to.” - </p> - <p> - “But I did have to.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see why.” - </p> - <p> - “What day's to-day?” - </p> - <p> - A mischievous light came into her eyes, but her face was demure. - “Wednesday,” she replied. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I knew that.” - </p> - <p> - “Why did you ask me, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Annie, Annie! When are you going to stop talking that way?” - </p> - <p> - Again the boat claimed all her attention. He leaned forward and dropped - his voice. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you think I've waited most long enough, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick, be sensible.” - </p> - <p> - “But haven't I been sensible? Not a word have I said for two months. And I - told you then I would speak on your birthday.” - </p> - <p> - “So you really remembered my birthday?” - </p> - <p> - “Remembered it, Annie! What a girl you are! Do you know how long I've been - waiting? And all the boys laughing? It's two years this month. It was on - your birthday that I saw you first, you know. And it wasn't a month after - that that I spoke to you. How could I help it? Who could have waited - longer? And you, with your way of making me think you were really going to - say yes, and then just laughing at me.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick—if you don't stop and be sensible, I 'll take you - straight inshore.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you wouldn't do that, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I would. I will now. Ready about!” The <i>Captain</i> came rapidly - up into the wind, but stopped there with sail flapping; for Dick held the - sheet, and his hand had imprisoned hers on the tiller. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick—Dick—” - </p> - <p> - “Wait a minute. Don't be angry with me when I've risked the schooner and - everybody aboard her just so's to get down here on your birthday. Promise - me you 'll hold her in the wind while I get you your present.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated, and looked out toward the horizon. - </p> - <p> - “Promise me that, Annie, and I 'll let go your hand.” - </p> - <p> - “You—you've forgotten—what you promised—” - </p> - <p> - “I know, I said I'd never take hold of your hand again until you put it in - mine—didn't I?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded, still looking away. - </p> - <p> - “And I've broken the promise. Do you know why, Annie? It's because when - you look at me the way you do sometimes, I could break every promise I've - ever made—and every law of Congress if I thought it would just keep - you looking at me.” - </p> - <p> - Not a word from Annie. - </p> - <p> - “Promise me, Annie, that you 'll hold her here?” - </p> - <p> - Still no word. - </p> - <p> - “Won't you just nod, then?” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated a moment longer, then gave one uncertain little nod. He - released her hand, held the sheet between his knees, drew the package from - his pocket, and displayed the corals. She was trying bravely not to look - around, but her glance wavered, and finally she turned and looked at it - with eager eyes. “Oh, Dick, did you bring that for me?” - </p> - <p> - “I surely did.” He held it up, and when she bent her head forward, he - slipped it over and around her neck. Her eyes shone as she ran the red - beads through her fingers and looked at the carved pendant. Dick leaned - back and watched her contentedly. Finally she let her eyes steal upward - and meet his, with a smile that was half roguish. “I never really laughed - at you, did I, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - He moved forward with sudden eagerness. “Don't you think now is a good - time to say yes, Annie,—now, on your birthday? I own a quarter of - the schooner now, you know; and I'm ready to make another payment - to-morrow. And don't you see, when we're married you can help me to save, - and before we know it we can have a home and a business of our own.” She - was bending over the corals. “You didn't really think you could save more - with—with me, than you could alone, did you, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I'm sure of it. It will give me something to work for, don't you - see?” - </p> - <p> - “But—but—” very shyly, this—“Haven't you anything to - work for now?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Annie, do you mean that—are you telling me you 'll give me the - right to work for you? That's all I want to know.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick—please let go my hand—you promised, you know—” - </p> - <p> - “What is a promise now! If you knew how you torture me when you lead me on - till I'm half wild and then change around till I don't know what I've said - or what you've said or hardly who I am—” - </p> - <p> - “No, Dick, you mustn't—I mean it. We must go in. See, there's father - on the beach. It must be supper-time.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait a minute—I haven't half told you—” - </p> - <p> - But she was merciless. The <i>Captain</i> came about and headed shoreward. - </p> - <p> - “Did you meet the revenue cutter anywhere up the Lake—the <i>Foote?</i> - She was here yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - “There you are again, all changed around! What do I care about the <i>Foote</i>—when - I'm just waiting to hear you say the only word that can make my life worth - living. Now, Annie—” - </p> - <p> - “You mustn't, Dick. I've let you say too much now. If you go on, you 'll - make me feel that I can't even thank you for your present.” - </p> - <p> - “Was that all? Were you only thanking me?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded, and Dick's face fell into gloom. But when the <i>Captain</i> - was beached, and Annie had leaped lightly over the rail, she turned and - gave him one merry blushing look that completely reversed the effect of - her reproof. And as she hurried up to the house, he could only gaze after - her helplessly. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—THE NEW MATE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0046.jpg" alt="0046 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0046.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N the morning the - <i>William Schmidt</i>, Henry Smiley, Master, came in from Chicago and - tied up across the pier from the <i>Merry Anne</i>. - </p> - <p> - Henry, Dick's cousin, was a short, stocky, man, said to be somewhat of a - driver with his sailors. He seldom had much to say, never drank, was - shrewd at a bargain, and was supposed to have a considerable sum stowed - away in the local savings bank. Though he was wanting in the qualities - that made his younger cousin popular, he was daring enough in his quiet - way, and he had been known, when he thought the occasion justified it, to - run long chances with his snub-nosed schooner. - </p> - <p> - After breakfast Dick walked across the broad pier between the piles of - lumber, and found Henry in his cabin. They greeted each other cordially. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down,” said Henry. “Did you come down through that nor'wester?” - </p> - <p> - Dick nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Have any trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no. Lost some sleep—that's all. You aren't going down to the - yards to-day, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—I think likely. Why?” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll go along with you. I'm ready to make another payment on the - schooner. I've been thinking it over, and it strikes me I'm paying about - three times what she's worth. What do you think? Would it do any harm to - have a little talk about it with the Cap'n? You know him better than I - do.” - </p> - <p> - Henry shook his head. “I wouldn't. He is too smart for you. He will beat - you any way you try it, and have you thanking him before he is through - with you. I have gone all over this ground before, you know. Of course he - is an old rascal—but I don't know of any other way you could even - get an interest in a schooner. You see, you haven't any capital. He will - give you all the time you want, and I don't know but what he's entitled to - a little extra, everything considered. But don't say anything, whatever - you do. You've got too good a thing here.” - </p> - <p> - “You think I ought to just shut up and let him bleed me?” - </p> - <p> - “He isn't bleeding you. Just think it over, Dick. You are making a living, - and you already have a quarter interest in your schooner. You couldn't ask - much more at your age. Have you heard from him yet, by the way?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “He spoke to me the other day about wanting to see you when you came in. - There's another order to come down from Spencer.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's that?” - </p> - <p> - “Up in the Alpena country.” - </p> - <p> - “Lake Huron, eh? Oh—isn't that where you went in the spring?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I've been there. An old fellow named Spencer runs a little one-horse - mill, and he's selling timber and shingles. And from what the Cap'n said, - I don't think he'd care if you brought along a little venture of your own. - That's the way I used to do, when I was paying for the <i>Schmidt</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “How could I do that?” - </p> - <p> - “Spencer will give you a little credit. You can stow away a few thousand - feet, and clear twenty or thirty dollars. It helps along.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, I 'll try it. Are you sure the old man won't care?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. He's willing enough to do the square thing, so long as it keeps - us feeling good and doesn't lose him anything.” - </p> - <p> - “Say—there's another thing, Henry. I fired Roche, up at Manistee.” - </p> - <p> - “Fired him?” Henry's brows came together. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I had to. I had stood him as long as I could.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know what the Cap'n will say about that.” - </p> - <p> - “I'd like to know what he can say. I was in command.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know—of course you had a right to; but the thing is to keep - on his good side. Suppose we go right down to the yards, and see if you - can get your story in before Roche's.” - </p> - <p> - “What does the Cap'n care about my men, I'd like to know!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Now, keep cool, Dick. Roche, you see, used to work for him,—I don't - know but what they're related,—and it was because the Cap'n spoke to - me about him that I recommended him to you when I did. And look here, - Dick,”—Henry smiled as he laid a hand on his cousin's shoulder,—“I'm - a good deal older than you are, and you can take my word for it. Don't get - sour on things. Of course people will do you if they can; but it's human - nature, and you can't change it by growling about it. You are doing well, - and what you need now is to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Why - should you want to hurry things along?” - </p> - <p> - A flush came over Dick's face. “There's a reason all right enough. You - see, Henry, there's a little girl not so very many miles from here—” - </p> - <p> - “Oho!” thought Henry, “a little girl!” But his face was immobile, - excepting a momentary curious expression that passed over it. - </p> - <p> - “Now don't get to thinking it's all fixed up, because it isn't—not - yet. But you see, I've been thinking that when I've got a little something - to offer—” - </p> - <p> - “There's another thing you can take my word for, my boy,” said Henry, with - a dry smile; “don't get impetuous. Marrying may be all right, but it wants - to be done careful.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Stenzenberger's lumber yard was a few miles away, at the Chicago - city limits. As the two sailors left the pier to walk up to the railway - station, Dick was glad to change the subject for the first one that came - into his head. “What do you suppose the <i>Foote</i> has been doing here - this week, Dick? I heard she put in Tuesday or Wednesday.” - </p> - <p> - “Looking for Whiskey Jim, I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, are they on that track again?” - </p> - <p> - “Haven't you seen the papers?” - </p> - <p> - “No—not for more than a week.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it's quite a yarn. From what has been said, I rather guess it's the - liquor dealers that are stirring it up this time. There is a story around - that he has been counterfeiting the red-seal label on their bottles. I - think they're all off the track, though. Anybody could tell 'em that - there's no such man. Every time a case of smuggling comes up, the papers - talk about 'Whiskey Jim,' no matter if it's up at the straits or down on - the St. Lawrence.” - </p> - <p> - “But what's the trouble now?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, they're saying that this fellow is a rich man that has a big - smuggling system with agents all around the Lakes and dealers in the - cities that are in his pay,—sort of a smuggling trust.” - </p> - <p> - “Sounds like a fairy story.” - </p> - <p> - “That's about what it is. The regular dealers have taken up the fight to - protect their trade, and one or two of the papers in particular have put - reporters on the case, and all that sort of thing. And as usual they're - announcing just what they've done and what they're going to do. The old <i>Foote</i> - is to make a tour of the Lakes, and look into every port. And if there is - any Whiskey Jim, I 'll bet he's somewhere over in Canada by this time, - reading the papers and laughing at 'em.” Captain Stenzenberger was seated - in his swivel chair in his dingy little one-story office at the corner of - the lumber yard. His broad frame was overloaded with flesh. His paunch - seemed almost to rest on his thighs as he sat there, chewing an unlighted - cigar in the corner of his mouth,—a corner that had been moulded - around the cigar by long habit and that looked incomplete when the cigar - was not there. His fat neck—the fatter for a large goitre—was - wider than his cheeks, and these again were wider than his forehead, so - that his head seemed to taper off from his shoulders. A cropped mustache, - a tanned, wrinkled face and forehead, and bright brown eyes completed the - picture. When his two captains came in, he rested his pudgy hands on the - arms of his chair, readjusted his lips around the cigar, and nodded. “How - are you, boys?” said he, in a husky voice. “Have a good trip?” This last - remark was addressed to Dick. - </p> - <p> - “First part was bad, but it cleared up later.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you put right out into that storm from Manistee?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—you see I had the wind behind me all the way down. Got to get a - new small boat, though.” - </p> - <p> - The “Captain” did not press the subject. In return for the privilege of - buying the schooner by instalments he permitted Dick to pay for the - insurance, so the young man could be as reckless as he liked. - </p> - <p> - Dick now explained that he had come to make a payment, and the transaction - was accomplished. - </p> - <p> - “Step over and have a drink, boys,” was the next formality; and the two - stood aside while Stenzenberger got his unwieldy body out of the chair, - put on his hat, and led the way out. - </p> - <p> - Adjoining the lumber yard on the west was a small frame building, bearing - the sign, “The Teamster's Friend.” It had been set down here presumably to - catch the trade of the market gardeners who rumbled through in the small - hours of every morning. In the rear, backed up against a lumber pile, was - a long shed where the teams could wait under cover while their drivers - were carousing within. A second sign, painted on the end of this shed, - announced that Murphy and McGlory were the proprietors of the “sample room - and summer garden.” The three men entered, and seated themselves at a - table. There was no one behind the bar at the moment, but soon a woman - glanced in through the rear doorway. - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger smiled broadly on her, and winked. “How d' do, Madge,” he - said. “Can't you give us a little something with a smile in it,—one - o' your smiles maybe now?” - </p> - <p> - She was a tall woman, with a full figure and snapping eyes,—attractive, - in spite of a crow's-foot wrinkle or so. She returned the smile, wearily, - and said, “I 'll call Joe, Mr. Stenzenberger.” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't do that now, Madge. Draw it with those pretty hands of yours, - there's a dear.” - </p> - <p> - So she came in behind the bar, wiping her hands on her apron, and quietly - awaited their orders. - </p> - <p> - “What 'll it be, boys?” - </p> - <p> - Dick suggested a glass of beer, but Henry smiled and shook his head. “You - might make it ginger ale for me.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know what to do with that cousin of yours,” said Stenzenberger to - Dick. “He's a queer one. I don't like to trust a man that's got no vices. - What <i>are</i> your vices, anyhow, Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - Henry smiled again. “Ask Dick, there. He ought to know all about me.” - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger looked from one to the other; then he raised his foaming - glass, and with a “Prosit” and a stiff German nod, he put it down at a - gulp. - </p> - <p> - “Been reading about the revenue case?” Henry asked of his superior. - </p> - <p> - “I saw something this morning.” - </p> - <p> - “I've been quite interested in it. Billy Boynton told me yesterday that - they had searched his schooner. It's a wonder they haven't got after us if - they're holding up fellows like him. Do you think they 'll ever get this - Whiskey Jim, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - “No, they talk too much. And they couldn't catch a mud-scow with that old - side-wheeler of theirs.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess that's right. The <i>Foote</i> must have started in here before the - <i>Michigan</i>, and she's thirty years old if she's a day. The boys are - all talking about it down at the city. I dropped around at the - Hydrographic Office after I saw Billy, and found two or three others that - had been hauled over. It seems they've stumbled on a pipe-line half built - under the Detroit River near Wyandotte, and there's been a good deal of - excitement. There's capital behind it, you see; and a little capital does - wonders with those revenue men.” - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger was showing symptoms of readiness to return to his desk, but - Henry, who rarely grew reminiscent, was now fairly launched. - </p> - <p> - “They can't get an effective revenue system, because they make it too easy - for a man to get rich. It's like the tax commissioners and the aldermen - and the legislators,—when you put a man where he can rake off his - pile, month after month, without there being any way of checking him up, - look out for his morals. And where they're all in it together, no one - dares squeal. It's a good deal like the railway conductors. - </p> - <p> - “You remember last year when the Northeastern Road laid off all but two or - three of its old conductors for stealing fares? Well, it wasn't a month - afterward that one of the 'honest' ones came to me and hired the <i>Schmidt</i> - to carry a twelve-hundred-dollar grand piano up to Milwaukee, where he - lives. He had reasons of his own for not wanting to ship by rail. No, sir, - it wouldn't be hard for me to have sympathy with an honest thief that goes - in and runs his chances of getting shot or knocked on the head,—that - calls for some nerve,—but these fellows that put up a bluff as - lawmakers and policemen and revenue officers and then steal right and left—deliver - me!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, boys, I guess I 'll have to step back. I'm a busy man, you know. - Have another before we go?” - </p> - <p> - “One minute, Cap'n,” said Dick. “There's something I want to talk over - with you, if you can spare the time.” - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger sat down again. Henry, whose outbreak against the evils of - society had stirred up, apparently, some pet feeling of bitterness, now - sat moodily looking at the table. - </p> - <p> - “It's about Roche, Cap'n,” Dick went on. “I had to leave him at Manistee.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “He drinks too much for me—I couldn't depend on him a minute. He - bummed around up there, and got himself too shaky to be any use to me.” - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger, with expressionless face, chewed his cigar. “What did you - do for a mate?” - </p> - <p> - “Came down without one.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you found a man yet?” - </p> - <p> - “No—haven't tried. I thought you might have some one you could - suggest.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. You 'll want to be starting up to Spencer's place in a day - or so.” He chewed his cigar thoughtfully for a moment, then dropped his - voice. “There's a man right here you might be able to use. Do you know - McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “You do, Henry?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he was my mate for a year.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Dick, “any man that suited Henry for a year ought to suit - me.” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll find him a good, reliable man,” responded Henry, in an undertone. - “He has a surly temper, but he knows all about a schooner.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,—if he's anywhere around here now, we could fix it right up.” - </p> - <p> - Stenzenberger looked around. The woman had slipped out. “Madge,” he - called; “Madge, my dear.” - </p> - <p> - She entered as quietly as before. - </p> - <p> - “Come in, my dear. You know Cap'n Smiley, don't you?” - </p> - <p> - No, she didn't. - </p> - <p> - “That's a fact. He's never seen in sample rooms. He sets up to be better - than the rest of us; but I say, look out for him. And here's his cousin, - another Cap'n Smiley, the handsomest man on the Lakes.” Dick blushed at - this. “Sit down a minute with us.” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head, and waited for him to come to the point. - </p> - <p> - “Where's that man of yours, my dear? Is he anywhere around?” - </p> - <p> - “What is it you want of him?” - </p> - <p> - “I want him to know our young man here. I think they're going to like each - other. You tell him we want to see him.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated; then with a suspicious glance around the group left the - room. - </p> - <p> - In a moment McGlory appeared, a short, heavy-set man with high - cheek-bones, a low, sloping forehead, and a curling black mustache. He - nodded to Stenzenberger and Henry, and glanced at Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Joe,” said the lumber merchant, “shake hands with Cap'n Dick Smiley. He's - the best sailor between here and Buffalo, and the only trouble with him is - we can't get a mate good enough for him. A man's got to know his business - to sail with Dick Smiley. Ain't that so, Henry?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess that's right.” - </p> - <p> - “And Henry tells me you're the man that can do it.” - </p> - <p> - This pleasantry had no visible effect on McGlory. He was looking Dick - over. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know about that, Cap'n. I promised Madge I'd give up the Lake for - good.” - </p> - <p> - “The Cap'n here,” pursued Stenzenberger, “is going to start to-morrow or - next day for Spencer, to take on a load of timber and shingles.” His small - brown eyes were fixed intently on the saloon keeper as he talked. “And I - think we 'll have to keep him running up there for a good part of the - summer. Queer character, that Spencer,” he added, addressing Dick. “He has - lived all his life up there in the pines. They say he was a squatter—never - paid a cent for his land. But he has been there so many years now, I guess - any one would have trouble getting him out. He has got an idea that his - timber's better than anybody else's. He cuts it all with an old-fashioned - vertical saw, and stamps his mark on every piece.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should it be any better?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know that it is, though he selects it carefully. The main thing - is, he sells it dirt cheap,—has to, you know, to stand any show - against the big companies. He's so far out of the way, no boats would take - the trouble to run around there if he didn't. Well, McGlory, we've got a - good thing to offer you. You can drop in here once a week or so, you know, - to see how things are running. Come over to the office with us and we 'll - settle the terms.” Stenzen-berger was rising as he spoke. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don't know. I couldn't come over for a few minutes, Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “How soon could you?” - </p> - <p> - “About a quarter of an hour.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, we 'll be looking for you. Here, give me half a dozen ten cent - straights while I'm here.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory walked to the door with them, and stood for a moment looking after - them. - </p> - <p> - When he turned and pushed back through the swinging inner doors, he found - Madge standing by the bar awaiting him, one hand held behind her, the - other clenched at her side, her eyes shooting fire. - </p> - <p> - He paused, and looked at her without speaking. - </p> - <p> - “So you are going back to the Lake?” she said, everything about her - blazing with anger except her voice—that was still quiet. - </p> - <p> - He was silent. - </p> - <p> - “Well, why don't you answer me?” - </p> - <p> - “What's all this fuss about, Madge? I haven't gone yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't try to put me off. Have you told them you would go back?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't told 'em a thing. I'm going around in a minute to see the - Cap'n, and we 'll talk it over then.” - </p> - <p> - “And you have forgotten what you promised me?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I ain't forgot nothing. Look here, there ain't no use o' getting - stagy about this. I ain't told him I 'll do it. I don't believe I will do - it.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should you want to, Joe? Aren't you happy here? Aren't you making - more money than you ever did on the Lake?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “Then why not stay here?” - </p> - <p> - “There's only this about it,” he replied, leaning against the bar, and - speaking in an off-hand manner; “Stenzenberger offers me the chance to do - both. I could be in here every few days—see you most as much as I do - now in a busy season—and make the extra pay clear.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's why you have been thinking you might do it?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's the only thing about it that—” He was wondering what - was in her other hand. “You see, I can't afford to get the Cap'n down on - me.” - </p> - <p> - “You can't? I should think <i>he</i> would be the one that couldn't afford—” - </p> - <p> - “Now see here, Madge.” He stepped up to her, and would have slipped his - arm around her waist, but she eluded him. “I guess I 'll go over and see - what he has to offer, and then I 'll come back, and you and me can talk it - all over and see if we think—” - </p> - <p> - “If <i>we</i> think!” she burst out. “Do you take me for a fool, Joe - McGlory? Do you think for a minute I don't know why you want to go—and - why you mean to go? Look at that!” She produced a photograph of a pretty, - foolish young woman, and read aloud the inscription on the back, “To Joe, - from Estelle.” - </p> - <p> - An ugly look came into his eye. “I wouldn't get excited about that - kiddishness if I was you.” - </p> - <p> - “So you call it kiddishness, do you, and at your age?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, so long now, Madge. I 'll be back in a few minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “Joe—wait—don't go off like that. Tell me that don't mean - anything! Tell me you aren't ever going to see her again!” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, there's nothing in it.” - </p> - <p> - “And you won't see her?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, of course I won't see her. She ain't within five hundred miles of - here. I don't know where she is.” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll promise me that?” - </p> - <p> - “You don't need to holler, Madge. I can hear you. Somebody's likely to be - coming in any minute, and what are they going to think?” He passed out - into the back room, and she followed him. - </p> - <p> - “How soon will you be back, Joe?” She saw that he was putting on his heavy - jacket—heavier than was needed to step over to the lumber office. - </p> - <p> - “Just a minute—that's all.” - </p> - <p> - “And you won't promise them anything?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, sure I won't. I wouldn't agree to anything before you'd had a look - at it.” - </p> - <p> - He watched her furtively; and she stood motionless, trembling a little, - ready at the slightest signal to spring into his arms. But he reached for - his hat and went out. - </p> - <p> - She stood there, still motionless, until his step sounded on the front - walk; then she ran upstairs and knelt by the window that overlooked the - yards. She saw him enter the office. A few moments, and the two men who - had been with Stenzenberger came out and walked away. A half-hour, and - still Joe was in there with the lumber merchant. An hour—and then - finally he appeared, glanced back at the saloon, and walked hurriedly - around the corner out of sight. And she knew that he had slipped away from - her. The photograph was still in her hand, and now she looked at it again, - scornfully, bitterly. - </p> - <p> - A man entered the saloon below, and she did not hear him until he fell to - whistling a music-hall tune. At something familiar in the sound a peculiar - expression came over her face, and she threw the picture on the floor and - hurried down. When she entered the sample room, her eyes were reckless. - </p> - <p> - The man was young, with the air of the commercial traveller of the better - sort. He was seated at one of the tables, smoking a cigarette. His name - was William Beveridge, but he passed here by the name of Bedloe. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, Madge,” he said; “what's the matter—all alone here?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; Mr. Murphy's down town.” - </p> - <p> - “And McGlory—where's he?” - </p> - <p> - “He's out too.” - </p> - <p> - He looked at her admiringly. Indeed, she was younger and prettier, for the - odd expression of her eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm in luck.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” she asked, coming slowly to the opposite side of the table and - leaning on the back of a chair. - </p> - <p> - But in gazing at her he neglected to reply. “By Jove, Madge,” he broke - out, “do you know you're a beauty?” - </p> - <p> - She flushed and shook her head. Then she slipped down into the chair, and - rested her elbows on the table. - </p> - <p> - “You're the hardest person to forget I ever knew.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess you have tried hard enough.” - </p> - <p> - “No—I couldn't get round lately—I've been too busy. Anyhow, - what was the use? If I had thought I stood any show of seeing you, I would - have come or broken something. But there was always Murphy or McGlory - around.” He could not tell her his real object in coming, nor in avoiding - the two proprietors, who had watched him with suspicion from the first. - “Do you know, this is the first real chance you've ever given me to talk - to you?” - </p> - <p> - “How did I know you wanted to?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, come, Madge, you know better than that. How could anybody help - wanting to? But”—he looked around—“are we all right here? Are - we likely to be disturbed?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no, not unless a customer comes in.” - </p> - <p> - “Isn't there another room out back there where we can have a good talk?” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head slowly, with her eyes fixed on his face. And he, of - course, misread the flush on her cheek, the dash of excitement in her - eyes. And her low reply, too, “We'd better stay here,” was almost a - caress. He leaned eagerly over the table, and said in a voice as low as - hers: “When are you going to let me see you? There's no use in my trying - to stay away—I couldn't ever do it. I'm sure to keep on coming until - you treat me right—or send me away. And I don't believe that would - stop me.” - </p> - <p> - “Aren't you a little of an Irishman, Mr. Bedloe?” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - She smiled, with all a woman's pleasure in conquest. “Why haven't you told - me any of these things before?” - </p> - <p> - “How could I? Now, Madge, any minute somebody's likely to come in. I want - you to tell me—can you ever get away evenings?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course I can, if I want to.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow?” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “There's going to be a dance in the pavilion at St. Paul's Park. Do you - ride a wheel?” She nodded. - </p> - <p> - “It's a first-rate ride over there. There's a moon now, and the roads are - fine. Have you ever been there?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “It's out on the north branch—only about a four-mile run from here. - We can start out, say, at five o'clock, and take along something to eat. - Then, if we don't feel like dancing, we can take a boat and row up the - river.” - </p> - <p> - She rested her chin on her hands, and looked at him with a half smile. “Do - you really mean all this, Mr. Bedloe?” - </p> - <p> - For reply, he reached over and took both her hands. “Will you go?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't do that, please. Do you know how old I am?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care. What do you say?” - </p> - <p> - “Please don't. I hear some one.” - </p> - <p> - “No, it's a wagon. I want you to say yes.” - </p> - <p> - “You—you know what it would mean if—if—” - </p> - <p> - “If McGlory—Yes, I know. You're not afraid?” - </p> - <p> - Her face hardened for an instant at this, and then, as suddenly, softened. - “No,” she said; “I'm not afraid of anything.” - </p> - <p> - “And you 'll go?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Shall I come here?” - </p> - <p> - “No, you'd better not.” - </p> - <p> - “Where shall we meet?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh—let me see—over just beyond the station. It's quiet - there.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. And I 'll get a lunch put up.” - </p> - <p> - “No—it's easier for me to do that. I 'll bring something. And now go—please.” - </p> - <p> - He rose, and slipped around the table toward her. . - </p> - <p> - “Don't—you <i>must</i> go.” - </p> - <p> - And so he went, leaving her to gaze after him with a high color. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—AT THE HOUSE ON STILTS - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0076.jpg" alt="0076 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0076.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>ICK and Henry did - not go directly back, and it was mid-afternoon when they reached the pier. - As they walked down the incline from the road, Dick's eyes strayed toward - the house on stilts. The <i>Captain</i> lay with nose in the sand, and - beside her, evidently just back from a sail, stood Annie with two of the - students who came on bright days to rent Captain Fargo's boats. They were - having a jolly time,—he could hear Annie laughing at some sally from - the taller student,—and they had no eye for the two sailors on the - pier. Once, as they walked out, Dick's hand went up to his hat; but he was - mistaken, she had not seen him. And so he watched her until the lumber - piles, on the broad outer end of the pier, shut off the view; and Henry - watched him. - </p> - <p> - Dick hardly heard what his cousin said when they parted. He leaped down to - the deck of the <i>Merry Anne</i>, and plunged moodily into the box of an - after cabin. His men, excepting Pink Harper, who was somewhere up forward - devouring a novel, were on shore; so that there was no one to observe him - standing there by the little window gazing shoreward. Finally, after much - chatting and lingering, the two students sauntered away. Annie turned back - to make her boat fast; and Dick, in no cheerful frame of mind, came - hurrying shoreward. - </p> - <p> - She saw him leap down from pier to sand, and gave him a wave of the hand; - then, seeing that he was heading toward her, she turned and awaited him. - </p> - <p> - “Come, Dick, I want you to pull the <i>Captain</i> higher up.” - </p> - <p> - Dick did as he was bid, without a word. And then, with a look and tone - that told her plainly what was to come next, he asked, “What are you going - to do now?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess I 'll have to see if mother wants me. I've been sailing ever - since dinner.” - </p> - <p> - “You haven't any time for me, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, of course I have,—lots of it. But I can't see you all the - while.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I suppose you can't—not if you go sailing with those boys.” - </p> - <p> - Annie's mischievous nature leaped at the chance this speech gave her. - “They aren't boys, Dick; Mr. Beveridge is older than most of the students. - He told me all about himself the other day.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he did.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. He was brought up on a farm, and he has had to work his way through - school. When he first came here, he got off the train with only just three - dollars and a half in his pocket, and he didn't have any idea where he was - going to get his next dollar. I think it's pretty brave of a man to work - as hard as that for an education.” - </p> - <p> - Dick could say nothing. Most of <i>his</i> education had come in through - his pores. - </p> - <p> - “I like Mr. Wilson, too.” - </p> - <p> - “He is the other one, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - Dick, his eyes fixed on the sand, did not catch the mirthful glance that - was shot at him after these words. And her voice, friendly and - unconscious, told him nothing. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he is Mr. Beveridge's friend. They room together.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I hope they enjoy it.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick, what makes you so cross? When you are such a bear, it wouldn't - be any wonder if I didn't want to see you.” - </p> - <p> - He gazed for a minute at the rippling blue lake, then broke out: “Can you - blame me for being cross? Is it my fault?” - </p> - <p> - She looked at him with wondering eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Why—you don't mean it is <i>my</i> fault, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think it is just right to treat me this way, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “What way do you mean, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - He bit his lip, then looked straight into her eyes and came out with - characteristic directness:— - </p> - <p> - “I don't like to think I've been making a mistake all this while, Annie. - Maybe I have never asked you right out if you would marry me. I'm not a - college fellow, and it isn't always easy for me to say things, but I - thought you knew what I meant. And I thought that you didn't mind my - meaning it.” - </p> - <p> - She was beginning to look serious and troubled. - </p> - <p> - “But if there is any doubt about it, I say it right now. Will you marry - me? It is what I have been working for—what I have been buying the - schooner for—and if I had thought for a minute that you weren't - going to say yes sooner or later, I should have gone plumb to the devil - before this. It isn't a laughing matter. It has been the thought of you - that has kept me straight, and—and—can't you see how it is, - Annie? Haven't you anything to say to me?” - </p> - <p> - She looked at him. He was so big and brown; his eyes were so clear and - blue. - </p> - <p> - “Don't let's talk about it now. You're so—impatient.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you really think I've been impatient?” - </p> - <p> - She could not answer this. - </p> - <p> - “Now listen, Annie: I'm going to sail in the morning, away around to a - place called Spencer, on Lake Huron; and I could hardly get back inside of - ten or twelve days. And if I should go away without a word from you—well, - I couldn't, that's all.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean—you don't want me to say before to-morrow?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's just what I mean. You haven't anything to do to-night, have - you?” - </p> - <p> - She shook, her head without looking at him. “Well, I 'll be around after - supper, and we 'll take a walk, and you can tell me.” - </p> - <p> - But her courage was coming back. “No, Dick, I can't.” - </p> - <p> - “But, Annie, you don't mean—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I do. Why can't you stop bothering me, and just wait. Maybe then—some - day—” - </p> - <p> - “It's no use—I can't. If you won't tell me to-night, surely ten—or, - say, eleven—days ought to be enough. If I went off tomorrow without - even being able to look forward to it—Oh, Annie, you've got to tell - me, that's all. Let me see you to-night, and I 'll try not to bother you. - I 'll get back in eleven days, if I have to put the schooner on my back - and carry her clean across the Southern Peninsula,”—she was smiling - now; she liked his extravagant moods,—“and then you 'll tell me.” He - had her hand; he was gazing so eagerly, so breathlessly, that she could - hardly resist. “You 'll tell me then, Annie, and you 'll make me the - luckiest fellow that ever sailed out of <i>this</i> town. Eleven days from - to-night—and I 'll come—and I 'll ask you if it is to be yes - or no—and you 'll tell me for keeps. You can promise me that much, - can't you?” - </p> - <p> - And Annie, holding out as long as she could, finally, with the slightest - possible inclination of her head, promised. - </p> - <p> - “Where will you be this evening?” he asked, as they parted. - </p> - <p> - “I 'll wait on the porch—about eight.” - </p> - <p> - For the rest of the afternoon Dick sat brooding in his cabin. When, a - little after six, he saw Henry coming down the companionway, his heart - warmed. - </p> - <p> - “Thought I'd come over and eat with you,” said his cousin. “What's the - matter here—why don't you light up?” - </p> - <p> - Dick, by way of reply, mumbled a few words and struck a light. Henry - looked at him curiously. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, Dick?” he asked again. - </p> - <p> - There had been few secrets between them. So far as either knew, they were - the last two members of their family, and their intimacy, though never - expressed in words, had a deep foundation. Before the present arrangement - of Dick's work, which made it possible for them to meet at least once in - the month, they had seen little of each other; but at every small crisis - in the course of his struggle upward to the command of a schooner, Dick - had been guided by the counsel and example of the older man. Now he spoke - out his mind without hesitation. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down, Henry. When—when I told you about what I have been - thinking—about Annie—why did you look at me as you did?” - </p> - <p> - “How did I look?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't dodge, Henry. The idea struck you wrong. I could see that, and I - want to know why.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Henry hesitated, “I don't know that I should put it just that way. - I confess I was surprised.” - </p> - <p> - “Haven't you seen it coming?” - </p> - <p> - “I rather guess the trouble with me was that I have been planning out your - future without taking your feelings into account.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you mean,—planning my future?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it isn't so definite that I could answer that question offhand. I - thought I saw a future for myself, and I thought we might go it together. - But I was counting on just you and me, without any other interests or - impediments.” - </p> - <p> - “But if I should marry—” - </p> - <p> - “If you marry, your work will have to take a new direction. Your interests - will change completely. And before many years, you will begin to think of - quitting the Lake. It isn't the life for a family man. But then—that's - the way things go. I have no right to advise against it.” Henry smiled, - with an odd, half bitter expression. “And from what I have seen since my - eyes were opened, I don't believe it would do any good for me to object.” - </p> - <p> - “You are mistaken there, Henry,” the younger man replied quietly; “it - isn't going well at all. I've been pretty blue to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Henry, with the same odd expression, “I don't know but what - I'm sorry for that. That future I was speaking of seems to have faded out - lately,—in fact, my plans are not going well, either. And so you - probably couldn't count on me very much anyway.” - </p> - <p> - He paused. Pink Harper, who acted as cook occasionally when the <i>Anne</i> - was tied up and the rest of the crew were ashore, could be heard bustling - about on deck. After a moment Henry rose, and, with an impulsive gesture, - laid his hand on Dick's shoulder. “Cheer up, Dick,” he said. “Don't take - it too hard. Try to keep hold of yourself. And look here, my boy, we've - always stepped pretty well together, and we mustn't let any new thing come - in between us—” - </p> - <p> - “Supper's ready!” Pink called down the companionway. - </p> - <p> - Dick was both puzzled and touched; touched by Henry's moment of frankness, - puzzled by the reasons given for his opposition to the suggested marriage. - It was not like his cousin to express positive opinions, least of all with - inadequate reasons. Dick had no notion of leaving the Lake; he could never - do so without leaving most of himself behind. Plainly Henry did not want - him married, and Dick wondered why. - </p> - <p> - It was half-past seven, and night was settling over the Lake. Already the - pier end was fading, the masts of the two schooners were losing their - distinctness against the sky; the ripples had quieted with the dying - day-breeze, and now murmured on the sand. The early evening stars were - peeping out, looking for their mates in the water below. - </p> - <p> - On the steps, sober now, and inclined to dreaming as she looked out into - the mystery of things, sat Annie. A shadow fell across the beach,—the - outline of a broad pair of shoulders,—and she held her breath. The - shadow lengthened; the man appeared around the corner of the house. Then, - as he came rapidly nearer, she was relieved to see that it was Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - He was in a cheerful frame of mind as he stepped up and sat beside her. It - was pleasant that the peculiar nature of his work should make it advisable - to cultivate the acquaintance of an attractive young woman—such a - very attractive young woman that he was beginning to think, now and then, - of taking her away with him when his work here should be done. - </p> - <p> - “What do you say to a row on the Lake?” he suggested, after a little. - </p> - <p> - “I mustn't go away,” said Annie. “I promised I would be here at eight.” - </p> - <p> - “But it's not eight yet,” Beveridge replied. “Let's walk a little way—you - can keep the house in sight, and see when he comes.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” doubtfully, “not far.” - </p> - <p> - They strolled along the beach until Annie turned. “This is far enough.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know whether I can let your Captain come around quite so often,” - said he, as they sat down on the dry sand, in the shelter of a clump of - willows. “It won't do—he is too good looking. I should like to know - what is to become of the rest of us.” - </p> - <p> - This amused Annie. They had both been gazing out towards the schooners, - and he had read her thoughts. He went on: “You know it's not really fair. - These sailor fellows always get the best of us. He named his schooner - after you, didn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, I don't believe so.” - </p> - <p> - “Sailors and soldiers—it's the same the world over! There's no - chance for us common fellows when they are about. Tell you what I shall - have to do—join the militia and come around in full uniform. Then - maybe you would be looking at me, too. I don't know but what I could even - make you forget him.” - </p> - <p> - She had to laugh at this. “Maybe you could.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose it wouldn't do me any good to try without the uniform, would - it?” - </p> - <p> - She tossed her head now. “So that's what you think of me—that I care - for nothing but clothes?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, it's not the clothes. His red shirt would never do it. But it's - the idea of a sailor's life—there is a sort of glitter about it—he - seems pluckier, somehow, than other men. It's the dash and the grand-stand - play that fetches it. I suppose it wouldn't be a bit of use to tell you - that you are too good for him.” - </p> - <p> - She made no reply, and the conversation halted. Annie gazed pensively out - across the water. He watched her, and as the moments slipped away his - expression began to change; for he was still a young man, and the witchery - of the night was working within him. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know, I'm pretty nearly mean enough to tell you some things about - Dick Smiley. I don't know but what I'm a little jealous of him.” - </p> - <p> - She did not turn, or speak. - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid it is so. I would hardly talk like this if I were not. I - thought I was about girl-proof,—up to now, no one has been able to - keep my mind off my work very long at a time,—but you have been - playing the mischief with me, this last week or so. It's no use, Annie. I - wouldn't give three cents for the man that could look at you and keep his - head. And when I think of you throwing yourself away on Smiley, just - because he's good-looking and a sailor—you mustn't do it, that's - all. I have been watching you—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,—you have?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and I think maybe I see some things about you that you don't see - yourself. I wonder if you have thought where a man like Smiley would lead - you?” She would have protested at this, but he swept on. “He can never be - anything more than he is. He has no head for business, and even if he - works hard, he can't hope to do more than own his schooner. You see, he's - not prepared for anything better; he's side-tracked. And if you were just - a pretty girl and nothing more,—just about the size of these people - around you,—I don't suppose I should say a word; I should know you - would never be happy anywhere else. Why, Annie, do you suppose there's a - girl anywhere else on the shore of Lake Michigan—on the whole five - Lakes—living among fishermen and sailors, as you do, that could put - on a dress the way you have put that one on, that could wear it the way - you're wearing it now? - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I know the difference, and I don't like to stand by and let you throw - yourself away. You see, Annie, I haven't known you very long, but it has - been long enough to make it impossible to forget you. I haven't any more - than made my start, but I'm sure I am headed right, and if I could tell - you the chance there is ahead of me to do something big, maybe you would - understand why I believe I'm going to be able to offer you the kind of - life you ought to have—the kind you were made for. I don't want to - climb up alone. I want some one with me—some one to help me make it. - You may think this is sudden—and you would be right. It <i>is</i> - sudden. I have felt a little important about my work, I'm afraid, for I - really have been doing well. But ever since you just looked at me with - those eyes of yours, the whole business has gone upside down. Don't blame - me for talking out this way. It's your fault for being what you are. I - expect to finish up my work here pretty soon now, and then I 'll have to - go away, and there's no telling where I 'll be.” - </p> - <p> - Annie was puzzled. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you finish so soon? It is only September now.” - </p> - <p> - “I have to move on when the work is done, you know. I obey orders.” - </p> - <p> - “But I thought you were a student, Mr. Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - He hesitated; he had said too much. Chagrined, he rose, without a word, at - her “Come, I must go back now,” and returned with her to the house. And - when they were approaching the steps, he was just angry enough with - himself to blunder again. - </p> - <p> - “Wait, Annie. I see you don't understand me. But there is one thing you <i>can</i> - understand. I want to go away knowing that you aren't going to encourage - Smiley any longer. You can promise me that much. I don't want to talk - against him; but I can tell you he's not the man for you; he's not even - the man you think he is. Some day I will explain it all. Promise me that - you won't.” - </p> - <p> - But she hurried on resolutely toward the house, and there was nothing to - do but follow. “Will you take my word for it, Annie,—that you 'll do - best to let him alone?” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head and hurried along. - </p> - <p> - On the steps sat a gloomy figure—Dick, in his Sunday clothes, white - shirt and collar, red necktie, and all. His elbows rested on his knees, - his chin rested on his hands, and the darkness of the great black Lake was - in his soul. He watched the approaching figures without raising his head; - he saw Beveridge lift his hat and turn away toward the bank; he let Annie - come forward alone without speaking to her. - </p> - <p> - She put one foot on the bottom step, and nodded up at him. “Here I am, - Dick. Do you want to sit here or—or walk?” - </p> - <p> - He got up, and came slowly down to the sand. - </p> - <p> - “So this is the way you treat me, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not late, am I, Dick? It can't be much after eight.” - </p> - <p> - “So you go walking with him, when—when—” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick, don't be foolish. Mr. Beveridge came around early, and wanted - me to walk, and—and I told him I couldn't stay away—” - </p> - <p> - She was not quite her usual sprightly self; and the manner of this speech - was not convincing. Dick's reply was a subdued sound that indicated - anything but satisfaction. - </p> - <p> - “I'm mad, Annie,—I know I'm mad—and I don't think you can - blame me.” - </p> - <p> - “I—I didn't ask you to come before eight, Dick.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that was it, was it? I suppose you told him to come at seven.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick,—please—” - </p> - <p> - But he, not daring to trust his tongue, was angry and helpless before her. - After a moment he turned away and stood looking out toward the lights of - the schooner. Finally he said, in a strange voice, “I see I've been a fool—I - thought you meant some of the things you've said—I ought to have - known better; I ought to have known you were just fooling with me—you - were just a flirt.” - </p> - <p> - He did not look around. Even if he had, the night would have concealed the - color in her cheeks. But he heard her say, “I think perhaps—you had - better go, Dick.” - </p> - <p> - He hesitated, then turned. - </p> - <p> - “Good night,” she said, and ran up the steps. - </p> - <p> - “Say—wait, Annie—” - </p> - <p> - The door closed behind her, and Dick stood alone. He waited, thinking she - might come back, but the house was silent. He stepped back and looked up - at her little balcony with its fringe of flowers, but it was deserted; no - light appeared in the window. At last he turned away, and tramped out to - the <i>Merry Anne</i>. The men were aboard, ready for an early start in - the morning; the new mate was settling himself in the cabin. To Dick, as - he stood on the pier and looked down on the trim little schooner, nothing - appeared worth while. He leaped down to the deck, and thought savagely - that he would have made the the same leap if the deck had not been there, - if there had been fourteen feet of green water and a berth on the - scalloped sand below. But there was one good thing—nothing could rob - Dick of his sleep. And in his dreams Annie was always kind. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—THE CIRCLE MARK - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0098.jpg" alt="0098 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0098.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>ARLY in the - morning they were off. Dick, glum and reckless, took the wheel; McGlory - went up forward and looked after hoisting the jibs and foresail. The new - mate had already succeeded, by an ugly way he had, in antagonizing most of - the men; but their spirits ran high, in spite of him, as the <i>Merry Anne</i> - slipped away from the pier and headed out into the glory of the sunrise. - </p> - <p> - “Hey, Peenk,” called Larsen, “geeve us 'Beelly Brown.'” And Pink, who - needed no urging, roared out promptly the following ballad, with the whole - crew shouting the spoken words:—= - </p> - <p>Oh, Billy Brown he loved a girl, - </p> - <p>And her name was Mary Rowe, O-ho! - </p> - <p>She lived way down<br /> - </p> - <p> - In that wick-ed town, - </p> - <p>The town called She-caw-go. - </p> - <p>(Spoken) WHERE'S THAT? - </p> - <p>The place where the Clark streets grow.= - </p> - <p>"Oh, Mary, will you bunk with me?” - </p> - <p>"Say, ain't you a little slow, O-ho! - </p> - <p><br />'Bout sailin' down<br /> - </p> - <p>To this wicked town - </p> - <p>To tell me you love me so?” - </p> - <p>(Spoken) GO 'LONG! - </p> - <p>She's givin' 'im the wink, I know.= - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />Oh, the wind blowed high, an' the wind blowed strong, - </p> - <p> - An' the Gross' Point' reef laid low, O-ho! - </p> - <p>An' Billy Brown - </p> - <p>Went down, down, down, - </p> - <p> - To the bottom of the place below. - </p> - <p> - <br />(Spoken) WHERE'S MARY? - </p> - <p> - <br />She's married to a man named Joe.= - </p> - <p> - “You're makin' noise enough up there,” growled McGlory. Pink, with a - rebellious glance, bent over the rope he was coiling and held his peace. - </p> - <p> - As they started, so they sailed during four days—the Captain - reckless, the mate hard and uncommunicative, the men cowed. And at - mid-morning on the fourth day they arrived at Spencer. - </p> - <p> - The Hydrographic Office had at that time worked wonders in charting these - Great Lakes of ours, but it had given no notice to the little harbor that - was tucked snugly away behind False Middle Island, not a hundred miles - from Mackinaw City on the Lake Huron side; merely a speck of an island - with a nameless dent behind it. But old Spencer, a lank, hatchet-faced - Yankee, had found that a small schooner could be worked in if she headed - due west, “with the double sand dune against the three pines till you get - the forked stump ranged with the ruined shanty; meet this range and hold - it till clear of the bar at the north end of the island; circle around to - port; when clear of the bar, hug the inner shore of the island until the - mill can be seen behind the trees; then run up into the harbor. Plenty of - water here.” - </p> - <p> - This discovery had resulted in such a curious little mill as can be found - only in the back corners of the country,—a low shed with a flat - roof; one side open to the day; within, an old-fashioned vertical saw; the - whole supplied with power by a rotting, dripping, moss-covered sluiceway. - </p> - <p> - All about were blackened pine stumps—nothing else for a hundred - miles. And all through the forest was the sand, drifting like snow over - roads and fences, changing the shape of the land in every high wind, - blowing into hair and clothes, and adding, with the tall, endless, - gray-green mullein stalks, the final touch of desolation to a hopeless - land. Here and there, in the clearings, sand-colored farmers and their - sand-colored wives struggled to wring a livelihood from the thankless - earth. Other farmers had drifted helplessly away, leaving houses and barns - to blacken and rot and sink beneath the sand drifts, and leaving, too, - rows of graves under the stumps. - </p> - <p> - Twenty miles down the coast, where a railroad touched, was a feeble little - settlement that was known, on the maps, as Ramsey City. - </p> - <p> - This region had been “cut over” once; it had been burned over more than - once; and yet old Spencer, with his handful of employees and his - deliberate little mill, wore a prosperous look on his inscrutable Yankee - face. There was no inhabited house within ten miles, but he was apparently - contented. - </p> - <p> - McGlory, it seemed, knew the channel; so Dick surrendered the wheel when - they were nearing the island, and stood at his elbow, watching the - landmarks. The mate volunteered no information, but Dick needed none; he - made out the ranges with the eye of a born sailor. But even he was - surprised when the <i>Merry Anne</i> swung around into the landlocked - harbor and glided up to a rude wharf that was piled with lumber. Behind it - was the mill; behind that, at some distance, a comfortable house, nearly - surrounded by other smaller dwellings. - </p> - <p> - “So this is Spencer, eh?” observed Dick. - </p> - <p> - “This is Spencer,” McGlory replied. - </p> - <p> - The owner himself was coming down to meet them, reading over a letter from - his friend, Stenzenberger, as he walked. His wife came out of her kitchen - and stood on her steps to see the schooner. Two or three men in woodman's - flannels were lounging about the mill, and these sat up, renewed their - quids from a common plug, and stared. - </p> - <p> - “How are you?” nodded Spencer, pocketing the letter. He caught the line - and threw it over a snubbing post. “This Mr. - </p> - <p> - “Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “That's who,” said Dick. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Joe?” to McGlory. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Mr. Spencer?” - </p> - <p> - In a moment they were fast, and Dick had leaped ashore. He caught - Spencer's shrewd eyes taking him in, and laughed, “Well, I guess you 'll - know me next time.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess I will.” There was a puzzled, even disturbed expression on the - lumberman's face. “I was thinking you didn't look much like your cousin. - The stuffs all ready for you there. You'd better put one of your men on to - check it up. Will you walk up and take a look around the place?” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks—guess I 'll stay right here and hustle this stuff aboard. - I'd like to put out again after dinner.” - </p> - <p> - Spencer drew a plug from a trousers pocket, offered it to Dick, who at the - sight of it shook his head, and helped himself to a mouthful. Then his - eyes took in the schooner, her crew, and the sky above them. “Wind's - getting easterly,” he observed. “Looks like freshening up. Mean business - getting out of here against the wind—no room for beating. You'd - better leave your mate to load and have a look at the place.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, all right; McGlory, see to getting that stuff aboard right off, - will you? We 'll try to get out after dinner sometime.” - </p> - <p> - When Spencer had shown his guest the mill and the houses of his men, he - led the way to his own home and seated his guest in the living room. Here - from a corner cupboard he produced a bottle and two glasses. - </p> - <p> - “I've got a little something to offer you here, Mr. Smiley,” said he, - “that I think you 'll find drinkable. I usually keep some on hand in case - anybody comes along. I don't take much myself, but it's sociable to have - around.” Dick tossed off a glass and smacked his lips. “Well, say, that's - the real stuff.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess there ain't no doubt about that.” - </p> - <p> - “Where do you get it from?” - </p> - <p> - “I bought that in Detroit last time I was down. Couldn't say what house - it's from.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you get out of here now and then, do you r - </p> - <p> - “Not often—have another?” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks, don't care if I do.” - </p> - <p> - “You see I've got a little schooner of my own, the <i>Estelle</i>,—named - her after my wife's sister,—and now and then I take a run down the - shore to Saginaw or Port Huron, or somewhere.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you get much lumber out?” - </p> - <p> - “Enough for a living.” - </p> - <p> - “I noticed you had a mark on the end of every big stick—looked like - a groove cut in a circle—most a foot across.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's my mark.” - </p> - <p> - “The idea being that people will know your stuff, I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - Spencer nodded shortly. “I'm getting out the best lumber on the Great - Lakes—that's why I mark it—help yourself to that bottle—there, - I 'll just set it where you can reach it.” Dick would have stopped - ordinarily at two glasses. To-day he stopped at nothing. “Much obliged. I - haven't touched anything as strong as this for two years.” - </p> - <p> - “Swore off?” - </p> - <p> - “Sort of, but I don't know that I've been any better off for it. There's - nothing so good after sailing the best part of a week.” - </p> - <p> - “You're right, there ain't. And that's the pure article there—wouldn't - hurt a babe in arms. Take another. You haven't been working for Cap'n - Stenzenberger many years, have you?” - </p> - <p> - Throughout this conversation Spencer was studying Smiley's face. - </p> - <p> - “No, nothing like so long as Henry.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you get along with him?” - </p> - <p> - “The Cap'n? Oh, all right. He's a little too smart for me, but I guess - he's square enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Doing a good business, is he?” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't say. I don't know much about his business.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you don't?” There was a shade of disappointment in the lumberman's - voice as he said this, but Dick, who was reaching for the bottle, failed - to observe it. - </p> - <p> - “McGlory been with you long?” - </p> - <p> - “No, this is his first trip.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't say so! Wasn't he with your cousin a while back?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, for a year.” - </p> - <p> - “Thought I'd seen him on the <i>Schmidt</i>. Is he a good man?” - </p> - <p> - “Good enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Let's see, wasn't he in with Stenzenberger once?” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't say.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you couldn't?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Say, I 'll have to step down and see how things are going. Here, I - 'll just have another nip out o' that bottle.” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense, Cap'n; sit down, sit down. I guess McGlory's competent to get - the load aboard all right. I ain't hardly begun to get acquainted with you - yet. We 'll have dinner pretty soon now, and when you've put a little - something solid inside you, we 'll go down and have a look at things. - Don't get bashful about the bottle. There's plenty more where that come - from.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know but what I've had all that's good for me.” - </p> - <p> - “Pshaw! A man of your inches? Here now, here's to you!” - </p> - <p> - They drank together, and a little later they drank again. - </p> - <p> - When Mrs. Spencer, a tired, faded out little body, came to the door and - said, “Dinner is ready, Ed,” Dick's spirits were soaring amazingly, and - his voice had risen to a pitch slightly above the normal. Spencer nodded - toward his guest and remarked, “This is Cap'n Smiley, Josie.” - </p> - <p> - “Glad to make your acquaintance,” exclaimed Dick, boisterously, striding - forward to shake her hand. - </p> - <p> - “Show the Cap'n to the dining room, will you, Josie?” Spencer said. “I 'll - step out and call the boys.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Spencer led the way through the short hall to the dining room, where - a table was spread for Spencer's eight or ten men (Mc-Glory and the crew - were to eat on the <i>Merry Anne</i>). Dick, stepping high, followed her, - and found himself being presented to a blond young woman with blue eyes - and an agreeable expression. “My sister Estelle, Cap'n Smiley,” said Mrs. - Spencer. - </p> - <p> - “Glad to meet you,” said Dick, looking so hard at her as they shook hands - that she blushed and dropped her eyes. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Spencer slipped out to the kitchen after the introduction, leaving - them to await the men. - </p> - <p> - “You've never been here before?” she ventured. - </p> - <p> - “Never have. Do you live here?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I've been with sister four years now.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, say, this is a pretty lonely place for a girl like you. I 'll have - to sail around often.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess you will.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, <i>ma'am</i>, you're too pretty for this corner of the woods.” - </p> - <p> - Estelle blushed and shook her head. - </p> - <p> - “But that's the gospel truth, sure as I'm Dick Smiley. And I can see - you're too sensible to get mad at any one for telling the truth.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Captain, I'm afraid you're a flirt,” simpered Estelle. - </p> - <p> - “Me, flirt? Never. Not on your diamond ear-rings!” - </p> - <p> - “Sh! What would Ed think if he was to come in and hear you talking like - that?” - </p> - <p> - Spencer, in truth, was already on the steps; in another moment he came - into the room at the head of his men. And Dick, suddenly aware that his - tongue was taking liberties with him, shut his lips tight and refused to - speak another word throughout the meal. In vain the lumberman rallied him; - in vain the men made advances; in vain Estelle, who was waiting on table, - threw him glances from behind Spencer's chair or let her hand brush his in - passing him the potatoes; from a flushed, talkative man, Dick had turned - abruptly into a silent, moody one, and he ate steadily, with eyes for - nothing but his food. - </p> - <p> - The meal was nearly over when Spencer, looking around the table, said, - “Hello, where's Pete?” - </p> - <p> - “He's busy,” replied one of the men, “said he'd be a little late.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, if he likes his vittles cold, I guess it's his own funeral.” - </p> - <p> - “There he is now, outside there.” - </p> - <p> - At this Spencer pushed back his chair and went to the window. “Hello, - there, Pete,” he called. “Ain't you coming to dinner?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, be right along.” - </p> - <p> - Dick stopped eating at the sound of the last voice, and listened, his fork - in the air, for what was coming next. Hearing nothing further, he faced - around and watched the door. A moment later in came Roche, trying to greet - the men without looking at his former captain, and sliding into his chair - with averted face. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Roche, don't you know Cap'n Smiley?” said Spencer. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes, I know him. How are you, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Pete? How'd you get here?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I—” Roche was embarrassed. “I used to work for Mr. Spencer, and - when I left you he took me back.” - </p> - <p> - Dick merely grunted, and went on eating. - </p> - <p> - “Here, Estelle!” called Spencer. “Estelle, Cap'n Smiley'd like another - piece o' pie. Ain't Estelle there, Josie?” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Spencer appeared in the kitchen doorway. “No, she ain't here.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I just saw her a minute or so ago.” - </p> - <p> - “She said it was hot in the kitchen and stepped outside. What is it you - want?” - </p> - <p> - “Cap'n Smiley'd like some more pie.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, I 'll get it for him.” - </p> - <p> - Dick bolted the second helping in the silence that had enveloped him since - the meal began. Then he got up, said something about the schooner that - nobody quite understood, and left the house. - </p> - <p> - Matters were going slowly at the wharf. - </p> - <p> - There was still a small pile of timber, and another of shingles waiting to - be loaded. So far as Dick could see, Harper seemed to be directing the - work. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing there, Pink?” he demanded, in a tone that made Pink - look curiously at him before replying. - </p> - <p> - “Loadin' up.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know.” - </p> - <p> - “You <i>don't know!</i> Well, why in———don't you know?” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll tell you, Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you 'll tell me, will you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I will. Mr. McGlory was awful partic'lar about the first load o' - stuff that went aboard, handled most of it hisself, and made us work slow, - an' then he just naturally quit workin' and walked off without sayin' a - word, an' so I an' the boys have been tryin' to hustle it aboard, like you - said, without him.” - </p> - <p> - “Quit workin'! What right's he got to quit workin'?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know, Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - Two of the sailors, standing near by, had been watching their captain - during this talk. - </p> - <p> - Now one of them turned away to hide a grin. - </p> - <p> - “What are you grinning about there?” roared Dick. - </p> - <p> - “I wasn't grinnin', Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you wasn't. Get to work, then, and shut your mouths. You're a lot o' - loafers, that's what you are. Hustle, now!” He lent a strong hand himself, - glad to vent in work the explosives that were working in his head; and as - he worked he muttered, “So we quit workin' when we're tired, do we?” - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the mate was strolling in the forest a few hundred yards away - with Estelle. He was looking closely at her, as they walked, from under - heavy eyebrows. She was flushing a very little and studying the sand at - her feet. - </p> - <p> - “Who's been giving you that kind o' talk about me?” he was asking. - </p> - <p> - “Why—I don't know as it was anybody especial.” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't believe it, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “N-no—but you see, you told me you were coming right back, and then - you didn't—and I didn't know whether I was ever going to see you - again or not. I thought—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what was it you thought?” - </p> - <p> - “I thought you probably could have come if you'd wanted to!” - </p> - <p> - “You know better than that, Estelle. The only way I could come was on the - schooner, and Cap'n Henry laid me off before the next trip. The minute I - had a chance to come up here with this man, I grabbed it. What I'd like to - know is, who is there up here that wants to tell lies about me? What else - have you heard?” - </p> - <p> - “You—you won't be mad, Joe, if—if I tell?” - </p> - <p> - “Course not. Here, let's sit down.” - </p> - <p> - They found a seat in the hollow of the sand, where the undergrowth - screened them. - </p> - <p> - “You see, Joe, I heard that you—were married.” - </p> - <p> - He started up. “That's a lie!” - </p> - <p> - “You said you—wouldn't get mad.” - </p> - <p> - He dropped down again, muttering: “I ain't mad at you, Estelle, but don't - you see there's some one that's just setting out to spread these lies. - It's enough to rile a fellow. Who was it told you?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know—it was quite a while back—maybe it was—Josie.” - </p> - <p> - “But she don't know anything about me. Who could 'a' told her?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. You won't say anything to her, will you, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “No, course not. It's funny, that's all. But so long's you don't believe - it, I don't suppose I've got any cause for kicking.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course I don't believe it—not now. Before you'd come back, and - after all you'd said about—” - </p> - <p> - “About what, Estelle?” - </p> - <p> - “About coming up here for me—and our going away from here—” - </p> - <p> - “That's it,” he broke in eagerly—“that's just it. I couldn't do it - then because I didn't have the ready. But now, you see, I've got a little - put by, and there ain't nothing to hinder our clearing out o' here for - good.” - </p> - <p> - “Isn't there, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a thing.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'm so glad. You don't know—you don't know how sick I get of - this place, and these men around. I most die with it sometimes—feel - as if I could go away alone if I knew of any place to go. Once I thought a - little of—of just doing it anyhow, and maybe finding you in Chicago. - You've told me where your place is, you know, up on the north side.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know, but we can do it now.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure.” - </p> - <p> - “To-day?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—you see—I couldn't hardly do it to-day. I've got to - finish my trip.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh—” - </p> - <p> - “Now wait, Estelle. If I got impatient, I'd lose the trick, don't you see. - This man, Dick Smiley, is working for the man that's got to help me. I - know a way to make him back me—set me up in my own place in some new - town maybe. I couldn't leave Smiley in the lurch without getting his boss - down on me. I've got a hold on him, but he'd never stand for that. This - Smiley's a no-good lot, but I've got to stick out this trip with him.” - </p> - <p> - “But—then you 'll be back in Chicago.” - </p> - <p> - “I know. I'm coming up here by train. Or say I meet you at Saginaw.” - </p> - <p> - “You thought you could do that before.” - </p> - <p> - “I was broke then. Now I've got the stuff. And I know how I can turn a - trick on this trip back that 'll be worth an easy five hundred to me. That - 'll take us clear down to Niagara Falls, maybe.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, could we go there, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, anywhere you say.” - </p> - <p> - “But, how 'll I know when to start?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, let's see. I can't be sure of getting back to Chicago, and cleaning - things up, and coming up to Saginaw inside of seven days. Call it eight; - that 'll make it—to-day's Tuesday—next week Wednesday. What - day does Spencer drive down to Ramsey?” - </p> - <p> - “Thursdays.” - </p> - <p> - “Then that's our day. You could get him to take you along, couldn't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you give him the slip and catch the afternoon train to Saginaw.” - </p> - <p> - “But how could I take my things? He'd be sure to see them.” - </p> - <p> - “Leave 'em behind. I 'll buy you what you need. Have you got any money?” - </p> - <p> - “Not very much?” - </p> - <p> - He sat up and drew out a handful of bills. “Here—say I give you - twenty-five. That 'll see you through, won't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, Joe.” - </p> - <p> - She was decidedly pretty now. Her weak face was alive with eagerness, her - eyes were dancing. And McGlory, as he looked at her, seemed to feel - something approaching a thrill. - </p> - <p> - There they sat, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, until the brush parted - and Dick stood over them. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Man,” said he, “I hope you're passing a pleasant afternoon with - your friend.” - </p> - <p> - Estelle got to her feet first. - </p> - <p> - “We thought maybe you'd spend a few minutes with us to-day,” continued - Dick. “You see we can't stay very long.” - </p> - <p> - “Who're you talking to?” growled the mate. - </p> - <p> - “I'm a-looking right at you.” - </p> - <p> - It was an awkward moment for McGlory. He felt that it was downright - necessary to show his superiority, for it is only by such a show that - women like Estelle are kept constant. On the other hand, even he - understood the danger of openly defying his captain. But the seconds were - flying. - </p> - <p> - “You go back to your schooner, Dick Smiley. You ain't boss here.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, by—” Dick checked himself, with a half bow toward Estelle. “I - beg your pardon, my dear. Your friend kind o' surprised me.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory flashed a suspicious glance at her. - </p> - <p> - “None o' your jaw now, Smiley. You can do your talking when it's time to - sail. You 'll have to shut up here.” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe you 'll be good enough to tell me when you 'll be ready to start,” - suggested Dick, with extravagant politeness. - </p> - <p> - McGlory rumbled an unintelligible reply; and Dick turned again to Estelle. - “Will you excuse him, my dear. You see he's got a previous engagement with - me. But you couldn't hardly blame him for forgetting, with such a lady - friend to talk to.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here,” McGlory broke out; “you've said enough. You go back to your - schooner where you belong!” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks, I'm going. We're all going. You 'll come with us, my dear?” - </p> - <p> - Estelle, who was plunged in confusion, said nothing, but fell in with him. - And McGlory, fuming, had to follow. - </p> - <p> - The east wind was freshening; the sky was darker. Spencer, who stood - awaiting them on the wharf, shook his head at Dick. “You aren't going to - start now, are you, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure we are.” - </p> - <p> - “It's mean business with an east wind. But still McGlory knows the - channel.” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory be——!” said Dick, throwing off his ceremonial manner - now that Estelle had escaped to the house. “I'd take her through hell for - fifty cents. Just watch my smoke.” Spencer said nothing further. The mate - was ordered up forward; the lines were cast off; Dick took the wheel. And - out they went, with a reckless daring that made Spencer and Pink Harper - smile from different motives. - </p> - <p> - “He's going to butt a hole clean through Middle Island,” muttered the - lumberman. But before the words were out, the Merry Anne swung cheerily - about and went skimming along the channel bank. Soon she rounded the - island in safety and disappeared. - </p> - <p> - Not until they were fairly out on Lake Huron did Dick call his mate. Then - he gave up the wheel without a word and stumbled down into the cabin. His - high spirits had given place to weariness and depression; and, dropping - down for a moment on his bunk, he fell asleep. - </p> - <p> - On deck McGlory, with an expression of smouldering anger, stood at the - wheel, glancing now at the sails, now at the water, now at the receding - shore. If his eyes could have penetrated the bluffs and the forest, he - would not have been happier. For Estelle, who seemed to be the victim of - her emotions today, was listening to some earnest talk from a boastful - fellow named Roche. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—BURNT COVE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0124.jpg" alt="0124 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0124.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>URING the rest of - the afternoon, during the evening, on into the night, Dick's hearty - snoring floated up the companionway. At supper-time McGlory called Ole - Larsen to the wheel, and went below. The Swede looked after him and - observed that he took the steps slowly and cautiously, and was more quiet - than usual in the cabin. From the mate his attention turned to the - binnacle. His instructions were to hold the course, nor'east, pointing - into the wind with the sheets hauled close. Ordinarily he would not have - taken the trouble to question any orders that might have been given him, - but the dislike and distrust all the crew felt for their new mate was - stirring in his mind. He took occasion, when Harper came aft about some - work, to beckon him and point to the compass. - </p> - <p> - “Aye tank we don' go at Mackinaw, no,” he said in a half whisper. - </p> - <p> - “Is that the course he gave you?” - </p> - <p> - “Ya-as, dat's her.” - </p> - <p> - “I was thinkin' myself it was funny. Near's I can figure, we're pointin' - for Manitoulin Island. Now what in thunder—Look here, Ole—first - chance I get I'm goin' to wake the Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “Aye tank we do dat, ya-as.” - </p> - <p> - They had dropped their voices, but Mc-Glory had heard them. He now came - tiptoeing up the companion steps, wearing an ugly scowl. “Go up forward,” - he commanded, addressing Harper. - </p> - <p> - “I was just askin' about the course, Mr. McGlory. It didn't quite seem to - me—” - </p> - <p> - “Go up forward!” - </p> - <p> - Pink hesitated, then he raised his voice. “Cap'n Smiley generally likes me - to wake him when he's slept as long's this.” - </p> - <p> - “Go up forward.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—” - </p> - <p> - He was starting, but he moved too slowly. McGlory's temper gave way, and - he struck him, with the back of his hand, across the face. - </p> - <p> - “You hit <i>me!</i>” The blood rushed into Harper's face; he drew himself - up, his fists contracting, the muscles of his bare forearms knotting. Ole - gazed impassively at the compass, but his fingers were twitching on the - spokes of the wheel; he saw from the expression of Harper's eyes that the - boy needed no assistance. For one tense moment, as they stood there on the - sloping deck, a faint light shining on them from the open companionway, - anything seemed possible. Had Mc-Glory been a coward he would have - retreated from the blazing figure before him; but he was not a coward. - Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, gripped Harper's arm, and - whirled him around. “Go up forward!” he said for the fourth time. And - Pink, swallowing hard, went. - </p> - <p> - A gentle sigh escaped the wheelsman. The mate turned on him; but Ole was - gazing out into the dark with an expressionless face. Into the silence - that followed came a gurgling snore from the cabin; if Pink had hoped to - wake the captain, he had failed. And the end of this brief incident was - that McGlory returned below and finished his supper, while the <i>Merry - Anne</i> continued to point nor'east. - </p> - <p> - Towards eleven o'clock the moon rose and showed Duck Island six miles off - the port bow. McGlory was again at the wheel. He now brought her up still - closer to the wind, heading a few points off Outer Duck Island and - skimming the lower edge of Jennie Graham Shoal. Huddled up in the bow, out - of the mate's view, Harper and Larsen were watching out ahead, pulling at - their pipes and occasionally exchanging a whispered word or two. Linding, - the third sailor, lay flat on the deck by the windlass, his head pillowed - on a coil of rope, the regular sound of his breathing telling that he was - asleep. Soon Ole's practised eyes made out a bit of land far off to port, - and he pointed it out to his companion. - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Meedle Duck Island, ya-as.” - </p> - <p> - A few minutes more and they saw a line of coast dead ahead. - </p> - <p> - “Manitoulin Island?” whispered Pink. - </p> - <p> - “Aye tank.” - </p> - <p> - On they went until the shore lay plainly before them in the moonlight,—on - until the breeze began to fail them, so close were they in the shelter of - the land. Finally they heard McGlory say in a guarded voice, “Ready about, - up there!” and they sprang to their places. - </p> - <p> - It proved a short tack. Hardly a quarter of an hour later, when the land - had faded but a little way into the indistinct night, they came about - again. This time they ran in so directly for the land that Pink grew - nervous. He stood up, pipe in hand, looking back at the mate, then forward - at the shore. The breeze fell away, but they drifted on through a mirror - of shapes and shadows. The trees of the bank loomed before them, then, it - seemed, around them. - </p> - <p> - Still the <i>Merry Anne</i> drifted on, her wheelsman turning every stray - breath to advantage. She was in a cove now, though how wide it was or how - far it extended the sailors could not tell, so strangely were the bluffs - and the trees reflected in the water. Drifting, however, is lazy work, and - Harper sat down to it and relighted his pipe, At length the schooner came - lazily up into the wind and McGlory ordered the anchor overboard. Here was - a chance to try to wake the Captain, and the chance was seized; but even - the dank and rattle of the chain failed to interrupt the snoring in the - cabin. - </p> - <p> - “Linding,” said McGlory, “come back here.” - </p> - <p> - Larsen and Harper looked at each other,—they had not told Linding,—then - between them they woke him and sent him aft. - </p> - <p> - Without a word the mate motioned the sailor to help him lower the boat - over the stern. - </p> - <p> - “He's goin' ashore,” whispered Harper. Ole nodded. “He's beckonin' for us—say, - Ole, shall we go?” - </p> - <p> - But the Swede started promptly aft. The habit of obedience is so strong in - a well-dis-posed sailor that only great provocation will overthrow it. - With but a moment's hesitation, Harper followed. - </p> - <p> - “Climb down there,” said the mate; “and mind you're quiet about it.” - </p> - <p> - Down they went; McGlory came after and took the rudder; and, propelled by - two pairs of oars, the boat slipped away, crossed a patch of moonlight, - and entered the mysterious region of shadows. - </p> - <p> - “Way enough—easy now!” - </p> - <p> - They literally could not distinguish the shore—it was all distorted, - unnatural. They dragged the oars in the water and looked over their - shoulders. Linding was in the bow with a long boat-hook ready in his - hands. Then they found themselves floating quietly alongside a narrow - landing pier, and it was necessary to tumble in the oars in a hurry. - </p> - <p> - Linding checked the boat's headway, the others reached out and caught the - planking with their hands; and McGlory stepped out. - </p> - <p> - “Make her fast,” he said, “and come ashore.” - </p> - <p> - They obeyed. - </p> - <p> - “Now, boys,”—he seemed of a sudden to be making an attempt at - good-nature,—“I want you to wait here for me. I 'll be back in five - minutes.” And walking along a path that mounted the bluff, he left them - standing there. - </p> - <p> - For a few moments they were silent. Then Harper spoke up: “Look here - fellows, I don't know how it strikes you, but I'm hanged if I like this - way o' doin' business. What we'd better do is to pull right back an' wake - the Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “Meester McGlory, she haf geef us orders, ya-as?” - </p> - <p> - “What's that got to do with it?” - </p> - <p> - But the two Swedes shook their heads. They were slow of body and mind; the - idea of rowing off without the mate was too daring. “You won't do it, - then?” - </p> - <p> - They looked at each other. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Harper, pulling off his coat, “all right. Have it your - way. But I'm goin' back, an' I'm goin' now.” He tossed his coat into the - boat, pulled off his boots and threw them after, let himself down into the - water, waded a few steps, and struck out for the schooner. It was but a - little way. He swam around to the stern, and drew himself up by the boat - tackle, which had been left hanging down close to the water. Rushing down - into the cabin, where a single lantern burned dimly, he bent over the - Captain, who lay dressed in his bunk, and shook him. - </p> - <p> - “Wake up, Cap'n, wake up!” - </p> - <p> - “Lemme be, will you?” - </p> - <p> - “Wake up! It's me—Harper.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care if it is. You needn't drown me.” - </p> - <p> - “But, Cap'n!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what's the row?” Slowly Dick raised his head and looked around. - “Good Lord! What time is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Twelve o'clock.” - </p> - <p> - “Twelve o'clock <i>what!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Midnight.” - </p> - <p> - “Midnight your gran'ma!” - </p> - <p> - “But it is. Mr. McGlory, he—” - </p> - <p> - “Just let go o' me, will you? Go over there and drip on the steps.” Dick - was slowly swinging his feet around and sitting up. “You've soaked my - bedding now. What's the matter with you anyhow? Been trying to swim home?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Cap'n, but Ole says we're up at—” - </p> - <p> - “See here, why haven't I been waked up?” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. McGlory wouldn't let me wake you.” - </p> - <p> - “Wouldn't let you?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he—” - </p> - <p> - “What's the matter with your lip?” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory hit me.” - </p> - <p> - “Hit you!” Dick sprang to his feet. “What in thunder are you talking - about?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm tryin' to tell you, Cap'n, if you 'll just listen—” - </p> - <p> - “Go on, be quick about it.” - </p> - <p> - “You've been sleepin' ever since we left Middle Island. Ole an' me we seen - that the course was nor'east instead o' nor'west, an' I was goin' to wake - you, but he wouldn't let me, an' I hollered loud but it didn't wake you, - an' now we're in a place Ole thinks is Burnt Cove on Manitoulin Island, - an'—an' Mr. McGlory's made me row him ashore, an' told us to wait - there for him, an' I swum back to wake you—” - </p> - <p> - Dick was standing close to Harper, staring at him with a mixture of - astonishment and incredulity. Now he brushed him aside and ran up the - steps. Sure enough, on every side were trees and the shadows of trees. The - Lake was not to be seen. He turned again to Harper who was close at his - elbow. “Where's the boat?” - </p> - <p> - “Right over there—not a hundred yards.” - </p> - <p> - “Ole!” called Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Ya-as.” - </p> - <p> - “Bring that boat back and hustle about it.” - </p> - <p> - In a moment they heard the clanking of oars, and soon the boat appeared in - the moonlight and ran alongside. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing there?” said Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Mees' McGlory, she say to wait.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, she does, does she! Well, we 'll see about it.” He leaped down to the - boat and took the stern. “Pull ashore.” - </p> - <p> - “Cap'n,” said Harper, “will you let me go?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, if you want to. Take Linding's place. Linding, you stay on the - schooner. And mind, there's nobody but me giving orders around here. Pull - away, boys.” - </p> - <p> - The landing pier was deserted when they ran alongside. “Which way did he - go?” asked Dick, as he stepped out. - </p> - <p> - Harper pointed at the dim path. - </p> - <p> - “How long ago was it?” - </p> - <p> - “Just a few minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. We 'll wait here.” He sat down with his back against a post, - and filled his pipe. “Got a match, Pink? Oh, I forgot, you're wet. Ole, - give me a match.” He lighted up and settled back to smoke and think. - </p> - <p> - McGlory had evidently walked some little distance back from the Cove, for - nearly ten minutes passed before they heard his step in the brush. Dick - sat still until he saw the mate coming down the bluff, then he said, “Get - aboard, McGlory.” - </p> - <p> - At the first word McGlory stopped short. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” Dick added, rising, “how long are you going to keep us waiting?” - </p> - <p> - Still there was no word from the motionless figure. Not until Dick stepped - to the stern of the boat did he speak. “Come up here a minute, will you, - Cap'n? I want to speak to you.” - </p> - <p> - “You can do any speaking you have to do on the schooner. Swing around, - Pink. I 'll hold her.” - </p> - <p> - “Just a minute, Cap'n, you know what I mean.” - </p> - <p> - “All I know about you is that you can't be trusted.” - </p> - <p> - “Seems to me you're gettin' mighty innocent all to once.” - </p> - <p> - “You can have your choice, McGlory, of getting aboard or staying behind. - For my part, I'd a heap sight rather leave you behind.” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't talk that way. I know what I'm doin'—I know I'm not to - talk to you—” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Pink,”—Dick stepped into the boat,—“let her go.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory turned and looked back up the path, as if listening. Then suddenly - he ran out on the landing and got aboard just as the men were pushing off. - He took the bow thwart, and settled down without a word. When they reached - the schooner, he got out the boat-hook, and held her steady while Dick - climbed out. - </p> - <p> - “That 'll do there,” said Dick, when McGlory and Larsen were hoisting the - boat up to the davits. “Let her down again. Pink, you'd better take - Linding and sound the channel ahead of us. We 'll start right out.” - </p> - <p> - “That ain't necessary,” put in the mate, hurriedly; “I can take her out.” - </p> - <p> - Dick turned and looked him over sharply. “How do I know you wouldn't run - her aground? You seem to be raising the devil generally.” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't a fool,” replied the mate, with an impatient gesture. - </p> - <p> - “I'd feel a little safer if you were. Well, all right, Pink, make her - fast. We 'll let him try it.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory took the wheel, and Dick sat by him on the cabin trunk. They went - out as they had come in, gaining a rod here and a yard there, as the - vagrant night breezes stirred the trees and faintly rippled the water. Up - forward the men settled down as quietly as if working out of Burnt Cove - after midnight were a part of the daily routine. Dick smoked in silence. - The mate alone was nervous. For some reason he seemed as anxious now to - get out of the Cove as he had been to get into it. Occasionally his eyes - wandered back toward the darker spot where the landing was. Once he seemed - to hear something,—they were then in sight of the open lake,—and - he swung her off quickly to gain headway. Finally Dick asked:— - </p> - <p> - “Got another o' your lady friends stowed away up here?” - </p> - <p> - The mate grunted. - </p> - <p> - “Maybe you thought you'd just drop around for a little call. That the - idea?” - </p> - <p> - “No, that ain't the idea.” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't know you were a Mormon.” - </p> - <p> - Another grunt. - </p> - <p> - “Case o' temporary mental aberration, perhaps. You thought you owned the - schooner. Or maybe you dreamed I was going to give it to you—not for - its intrinsic value, but as a token of affection <i>and</i> esteem. That - it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, that ain't it, an' you know it ain't.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I'm in the secret, am I?” - </p> - <p> - McGlory leaned across the wheel and looked at him. “Are you a-tryin' to - make me think you don't know why I come here?” - </p> - <p> - “I certainly am.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you beat me.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we're in the same condition. It isn't exactly usual, you know, to - take another man's schooner off for a summer cruise without asking him if - he don't mind. Of course, between friends, it's all right—-only - there are some little formalities that are customary. But I suppose you - aren't going to tell me anything about it—why you did it.” - </p> - <p> - The mate said nothing. They were now slipping out into deep water, where - the breeze could fill the sails, and the schooner began to heel and to - nose through the ripples with a grateful sound. The light was stronger out - here, and the mate could see the Captain's face more plainly. What he saw - there answered several questions that lay, unspoken, in his mind. - </p> - <p> - “I 'll take the wheel now,” said Dick. “Hold on, don't you go forward. - Wait here till I get through with you.” He raised his voice and called to - the others. “Come back here, boys, all o' you.” And when the crew was - grouped about the wheel: “Pink, here, is going to be my mate for the rest - o' this trip. I want you to take his orders the same as if they were mine. - McGlory has nothing more to say on this schooner. That's all.” - </p> - <p> - The men looked at each other. The Swedes were slow to grasp what was said. - McGlory stood back in the shadow, and his face told nothing. Harper was - excited. - </p> - <p> - “That's all, I tell you. You can go back.” - </p> - <p> - They went at this—all but Pink, who lingered. “Cap'n—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what is it?” - </p> - <p> - “I was just goin' to say—it's more'n square—you've been more'n - white to me—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on there. You needn't bother about engrossing any resolutions. You - 'll find it hard enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—I'm mighty obliged for—” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all.” - </p> - <p> - Thirty-six hours later, when the Merry Anne was slipping through the - islands west of the straits and heading southward for the run down Lake - Michigan, McGlory slipped aft and addressed Harper, who had the wheel. “I - was sort o' hasty awhile ago, Pink, when I hit you that time. I hope you - ain't a-layin' it up against me.” - </p> - <p> - Pink stared at him, but offered no reply. - </p> - <p> - “I was a little excited. You see, Cap'n Smiley's a good sailor, but he - don't know where his own interest is.” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't got nothin' to say to you about Cap'n Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - “I know. Say, you ain't got no objections to turnin' an honest penny, have - you? - </p> - <p> - “That depends.” - </p> - <p> - “Or say maybe it was a neat little five hundred—good hard stuff.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's it cornin' from?” - </p> - <p> - “You know where we was—over in Canada?” - </p> - <p> - “I ought to.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Smiley knows all about that.” - </p> - <p> - “The————-he does!” - </p> - <p> - “Sure thing. He's been there before, more'n once.” - </p> - <p> - “Funny he didn't know the channel then. There ain't a place around the - Lakes he couldn't sail the <i>Anne</i> through if he'd smelled it once.” - </p> - <p> - “I know. That's the queer part of it. He knows it with his eyes shut. He - had some reason or other for puttin' up the bluff he did, an' I'd give - just about ten round dollars to know what it was.” - </p> - <p> - “Better ask him.” - </p> - <p> - “Watch me. This ain't the kind o' thing you can talk out about. I know he - knows, an' he knows I know; but he's down on me an' there's nothin' I can - say—here, anyway.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want o' me?” - </p> - <p> - “You're the right sort—you've got nerve an' a head on you. Help me - carry this business through, an' I 'll divvy up with you—five - hundred, sure, to start with.” - </p> - <p> - “What am I to do?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothin' hard. You've got a good stand in with Smiley. Just put in a word - for me, so's he won't fire me before another trip, anyway. You fellows - made a mistake this time in not standin' by me. I can do better by you - than he can—a lot better. Help me to stay aboard for the next trip, - an' I 'll hand you fifty right now for a sweetener.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I 'll see what I can do.” - </p> - <p> - “I've got the fifty down below. I 'll get it.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on—don't be in a hurry. You'd better see what I can do for you - before you do any sweetenin'.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory nodded and slipped back to his station. When the watch was - changed, he went below and settled down to writing a letter on crumpled - paper with a pencil. He seemed to be thinking hard. Three times he made a - start, only to hold the paper up to the lantern, shake his head over it, - tear it up, and stuff the pieces into his pocket. But the fourth attempt, - which follows, suited him better. - </p> - <p> - “Dear Estelle: I ain't done the trick I was going to do this trip. The - Captain woke up too soon and stoped me. But I've got a fellow here on bord - that's going to see me threw next trip so don't you go down to Saginaw - yet. Wait til you see me at Spencer's and Ile tell you al about the scheme - itll be worth a thousand cool anyway I should say its worth waiting for. - I'm doing it for you you know so don't you get impatent but just wait a - litle longer and we 'll have a gay old time. - </p> - <p> - “Joe.” - </p> - <p> - When he gave the wheel to Dick, Harper repeated to him the whole - conversation and asked him what he made of it. - </p> - <p> - “Give it up.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't think he's layin' for you, do you? I couldn't tell what he was - up to. Of course he wouldn't hardly let me see into his game the first - time we talked.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no,—hardly.” - </p> - <p> - “Will I go on lettin' him talk to me?” - </p> - <p> - “If you see any fun in it.” - </p> - <p> - “It ain't that—I thought maybe we could find out what he's after.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't want to know about it.” - </p> - <p> - “But you don't think he 'll try to—stick it into you anyway?” - </p> - <p> - “Let him try. He can't do much harm.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—” - </p> - <p> - “Take my advice, Pink, and quit thinking about him. I don't like this - business any more than you do, but the worse it is the less I want to know - about it. When we get back we 'll fire him, and that will end it.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you think we'd better tie him up, or somethin'?” - </p> - <p> - “That wouldn't do any good. You'd better tumble below and get some sleep. - There's nothing like it when you're a little worked up.” - </p> - <p> - Dick had indeed something else to think of than his rascal of a mate. Only - four days of sailing, if the wind should hold, lay between the <i>Merry - Anne</i> and the Annie for whom she had been named. These days would slip - away before he knew it, and then? The uncertainty was hard, but still he - dreaded the meeting—that might be harder still. - </p> - <p> - Off Waukegan on the last day the wind swung around to the south, nearly - dead ahead; and as the schooner lost headway and was forced into beating - to windward, the dread suddenly gave place to impatience. So variable were - his thoughts indeed, as the miles slipped astern and the long green bluff - that ends in Grosse Pointe grew nearer and plainer, that his courage oozed - away. - </p> - <p> - Far down the Lake, between the Lake View crib and the horizon, was a speck - of a sail. Dick's heart sank—he knew as if he could make out the - painted name that it was the <i>Captain</i>. He watched it hungrily as the - <i>Merry Anne</i>, headed in close to the waterworks pier, swept easily - around, and started on the last outward tack. Then he called to Pink, and - had the sheets hauled close; and he laughed softly and nervously as the - schooner responded with a list to port and a merry little fling of spray. - He could at least come in with a rush, with all his colors flying. - </p> - <p> - He was waiting for the tiny sail to swing around and point northward. He - was disappointed. He reached for the glass and took a long look—then - lowered it, and smiled bitterly. There were two figures seated in the - stern of the <i>Captain</i>. - </p> - <p> - The <i>Schmidt</i> was lying on the south side of the pier; and the wind - enabled Dick to come easily up on the opposite side and make fast. It was - late in the afternoon, and Dick released the two Swedes, both of whom had - families on shore. Then he crossed the pier, between the high piles of - lumber, and found Henry sitting quietly, as usual, in his cabin. - </p> - <p> - To the older man's greeting Dick responded moodily. “I want to talk to - you, Henry. What's my reputation, anyhow, among the boys? Do they call me - mean, or a driver, or hard to get along with?” - </p> - <p> - Henry looked at him curiously, and shook his head. “I never heard anything - of that sort. Your row with Roche was the only thing, and I guess he was a - poor stick.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm through with McGlory, too.” - </p> - <p> - “Through with him?” Henry was startled. “You haven't discharged him?” - </p> - <p> - “No, but I'm going to to-night. I've brought him back here, and he wants - to stay, but I won't have him aboard another minute.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the trouble?” - </p> - <p> - Dick gave him the whole story, including the conversation between McGlory - and Harper up in the straits. - </p> - <p> - “I don't like the sound of it very well,” said Henry, when he had - finished. “Couldn't you get on with him a little longer?” - </p> - <p> - “After that?” - </p> - <p> - “I know—there is some deviltry behind it. But still he is a good - man. You 'll have hard work finding a better. And honest, I would kind of - hate to face Cap'n Stenzenberger myself with this story.” - </p> - <p> - “Why? I can't have a man around that's going to steal my schooner in my - sleep.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, he could never do that again. I can't see what he was thinking - of. Do you see into it at all?” - </p> - <p> - Dick had been staring at the cabin table. At this question he raised his - eyes, for an instant, with an odd expression. “I know all I want to. The - whole thing is so outrageous that I am not going to try to follow it up.” - </p> - <p> - “He talked to your man about a rake-off, didn't he?” - </p> - <p> - Dick nodded. - </p> - <p> - “What do you suppose he was going to rake?” - </p> - <p> - Dick, whose eyes were lowered, and who was therefore unconscious of the - pallor of his cousin's face, said nothing. - </p> - <p> - “I know we don't look at some things quite the same, Dick,” Henry went on. - “But if anybody on <i>my</i> schooner is going to do any raking, he has - got to see me first. A dollar's a dollar, my boy. When you are my age, you - will think so too.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't mix in this business.” - </p> - <p> - “No more would I. But it seems to me, if McGlory's got some way of his own - of making a little pile, and if you could have your share for just letting - him stay aboard, you'd be sort of a fool not to do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Excuse <i>me!</i>” - </p> - <p> - Henry smiled indulgently. “There's nothing very bad in what you have told - me. Of course, if there are things you <i>haven''</i>t told me, it might - make a difference.” - </p> - <p> - “You have the whole story.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know, Dick, you make me think of the folks up at the college here. - You know that brewer that died repentant and left five hundred thousand - dollars to the Biblical School? Well, a lot of the old preachers got - stirred up over it and made them refuse the money— made 'em refuse - five hundred thousand cash! Good Lord! if these particular folks would - look into the private history of all the dollars in the country, they'd - never touch one of them,—not one. There isn't a dollar of the lot - that hasn't got a bad spot somewhere, like the rest of us. The main thing - is, are your own hands clean when you take it? If they are, the dollar - can't hurt you.” - </p> - <p> - “But look here, Henry, my mind's made up about this. I won't have that - fellow on my schooner.” - </p> - <p> - “Going to turn him off to-night?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, right now.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. You can send him over here. I 'll give him a bunk till - morning. But what are you going to do for a mate?” - </p> - <p> - “Pink is all right. I could go farther and do worse.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. Tell Joe to bring his things along.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI—THE RED SEAL LABEL - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0152.jpg" alt="0152 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0152.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was on Friday - morning that the <i>Merry Anne</i> had sailed away from Lakeville for her - first trip to Spencer's. On this same Friday another set of persons were - passing through a series of events which concern this story. - </p> - <p> - Dick had sailed out at daybreak. A few hours later, when the morning was - still young, Roche, who had come down by train from Manistee, was hanging - about near “The Teamster's Friend.” now standing on the corner by the - lumber office looking stealthily up and down the street, now passing by on - the opposite sidewalk, closely watching the screened windows. Finally he - crossed over and entered the saloon to ask for McGlory. Murphy, the senior - partner in the business, who lived a few blocks away, came in for his - day's work and found Roche there. “McGlory,” said Murphy, “won't be back - for a week or so.” At this, with an angry exclamation, Roche went out. The - quantity of bad whiskey he had taken in since his discharge from the <i>Merry - Anne</i> at the Manistee pier, had not worked to change his humor or to - calm his faculties. He was plunging around the lumber office into a side - street when Beveridge, who had been watching his every movement, accosted - him. - </p> - <p> - “Beg pardon, have you got a match?” - </p> - <p> - “Hey? What's that?” - </p> - <p> - “Have you got a match?” - </p> - <p> - “A match? Why, sure.” - </p> - <p> - “Much obliged. I've got the cigars. Better make a fair trade. You 'll find - 'em a good smoke.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, don't care 'f I do. Here, you can't light in this wind.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, I'm Irish. Say, haven't I seen you somewhere?” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't say.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, sure I have. Isn't your name Roche?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what it is.” - </p> - <p> - “And you're mate of the <i>Merry Anne</i>, sailing out of Lakeville?” - </p> - <p> - “You're wrong there.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm sure of it. I've seen you too many times.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, do you b'long out there?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I live at Lakeville.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, look here; I 'll tell you how it is. I was on the <i>Merry Anne</i>, - but I ain't any more.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you quit Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “You're right, I quit him. No more Smiley for me.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “What <i>ain't</i> the trouble, you'd better say. But I ain't tellin'. - Smiley's done me dirt, an' I know 'im for just what he is, but I ain't - tellin'.” - </p> - <p> - They were passing another saloon, and Roche accepted an invitation to step - in. - </p> - <p> - “I've seen Smiley a good deal around the piers,” said the young fellow, - when they were seated. “Likes to swagger some, doesn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he's no good.” - </p> - <p> - “Mean to work for? Those conceited fellows generally are.” - </p> - <p> - “He's mean, yes. But that ain't the worst thing about him.” Roche paused - guardedly, and glanced around the empty room. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know much about him myself, just seen him now and then. But of - course I've heard things. - </p> - <p> - “I 'll tell you right here, you arn't the only one that 'll be hearin' - things before much longer.” Another cautious glance around. “You don't - happen to know anythin' about law, do you?” - </p> - <p> - “I've studied it some.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, look here. I know some things about Dick Smiley, and if it was - worth my while, I'd tell 'em. But you see, I am an honest man, an' I've - got my livin' to make, an' he's just cute enough to lie about me an' try - to drag me down with 'im. Folks might say I didn't quit him the first - minute I found 'im out. I can't run no risks, you see.” - </p> - <p> - “I can tell you this much—but, of course, it's none of my business.” - </p> - <p> - “Go on.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it depends on the case. But if he has done anything serious, and if - the authorities find it hard to get evidence against him, you probably - wouldn't have any trouble, even if you were right in with him. A man can - turn state's evidence, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “But I wasn't in with 'im. When I'd found him out, I quit him—the - first good chance I got.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, of course. But it all depends. I couldn't tell you anything more, - because I don't know the case. It all depends on how bad they want him.” - </p> - <p> - “They want him bad enough.” He dropped his voice, and leaned across the - table. “Did you ever hear o' Whiskey Jim?” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say—” - </p> - <p> - Roche nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Why, man, you're rich.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you make that out?” - </p> - <p> - “Haven't you seen the papers?” - </p> - <p> - Roche shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “There's a reward of five thousand up for Whiskey Jim.” - </p> - <p> - “Who 'll give it?” - </p> - <p> - “The Consolidated Dealers. You see, there has been a counterfeit label, of - the Red Seal brand, on the market; and I understand the liquor men have - been running it down and putting the Treasury Agents on the track to - protect their business.” - </p> - <p> - “Fi' thousand, eh? An' do you think we could make it?” - </p> - <p> - “If you have the evidence to convict this Whiskey Jim, we can. But now, - before we go into this, what sort of an arrangement will you make with me - if I steer it through for you?” - </p> - <p> - “What would you want?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—I should go at it something like this. I should go to the - United States Treasury officials and tell them I could get them the - evidence they want if they would agree not to prosecute us. It would take - some managing, but it can be done. But I can't do it for nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want?” - </p> - <p> - “Say one thousand. That's twenty per cent.” - </p> - <p> - “Too much.” - </p> - <p> - “Not for the work to be done. Remember, I agree to get you off without any - more trouble than just giving in your evidence.” - </p> - <p> - “But I don't need to get off. I ain't done nothin'.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I understand. Of course not.” - </p> - <p> - “Say five hundred, and it's a go.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir. I can't do it for that. I might take seven hundred and fifty, - but—” - </p> - <p> - “It's too much, a————sight too much. You'd ought - to do it for less.” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't think of it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—” - </p> - <p> - “Is it a go?” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose so.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. That's understood. If I can get the five thousand for you, you - will hand me seven hundred and fifty. Now, I suppose the sooner we get at - this, the better for both of us. When can I see you and talk it over?” - </p> - <p> - “You might come around this afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - “Say two o'clock?” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Where do you live?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm stoppin' over on North Clark. Forty-two-seventy-two an' a half, third - floor. You 'll be around, then, will you, Mr.—Mr.—” - </p> - <p> - “Bedloe's my name. Yes, I 'll be there at two sharp.” - </p> - <p> - But at two o'clock, when Beveridge called at the boarding-house on North - Clark Street he found that Roche was gone. “He only stopped here a day,” - said the landlady. “This noon he paid me and said he was called out of - town by a telegram.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he say when he would be back?” - </p> - <p> - “He didn't know.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he leave his things?” - </p> - <p> - “No. What little he had he took along.” Beveridge turned thoughtfully away - and walked around the corner, where Wilson was awaiting him. He had no - means of knowing that Roche was already well on the way to Spencer, where - Smiley saw him a few days later. - </p> - <p> - “Not there, Bill?” asked Wilson. - </p> - <p> - “No,—skipped.” - </p> - <p> - “Lost his nerve, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess so.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what now?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, until I see Madge to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you really expect anything there?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. It's a chance, that's all.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think she 'll keep her promise?” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't say. I 'll give her a chance, anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - She did keep it. Very shortly after five, while Beveridge was riding - slowly up and down near the meeting-place, he saw her coming, and his eyes - lighted up with surprise. He could not know how much thought had been - given to the effect which pleased him so; he only observed that she looked - like a young girl in her short wheeling skirt and leggings, and with her - natty little cap and well-arranged hair. - </p> - <p> - They found St. Paul's Park gay with lights and music when they arrived. - Dancing had been going on all the afternoon on the open-air platform. The - ring-the-cane booth, the - every-time-you-knock-the-baby-down-you-get-a-five-cent-cigar booth, were - surrounded by uproarious country folk, with only here and there a city - face among them. A little way down the slope, through the grove, ran the - sluggish North Branch, a really inviting spot in the twilight; and to this - spot it was that Beveridge led the way after checking the wheels. - </p> - <p> - “The boats don't amount to much,” he said to Madge, as he helped her down - the bank, “but I guess we can have a good time, anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - She did not reply to this, but there was a sparkle in her eyes and a flush - on her cheek, as she stepped lightly into the boat, that drew an admiring - glance from Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - He took the clumsy oars, and pulled upstream, under the railroad bridge, - past all the other boats, on into the farming country, where the banks - were green and shaded. - </p> - <p> - “Pretty nice, isn't it?” said he. - </p> - <p> - She nodded. They could hear the music in the distance, and occasionally - the voices; but around them was nothing but the cool depths of an oak - copse. She was half reclining in the stern, looking lazily at the dim - muscular outlines of her oarsman. “You row well,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “I ought to. I was brought up on water.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't know how this takes me back,” said Madge, dreamily. “I couldn't - tell you how long it is since I have been out in the country like this.” - </p> - <p> - He pulled a few strokes before replying, “Didn't McGlory ever take you - out?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't like to think about him now. Let's talk of something else.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad you don't like to. That's the only thing that bothers me.” - </p> - <p> - “What—Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he needn't bother you.” - </p> - <p> - “I can't help it. You see, you're—” - </p> - <p> - “His wife? Yes, so I am. But I'm—” - </p> - <p> - “What, Madge?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know what you would think if I said it.” - </p> - <p> - “Say it, please.” - </p> - <p> - She glanced into his face. He saw with surprise that her eyes were - shining. “Well—I was—going to say—that—that—I'm - about through with him.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean that, Madge?” - </p> - <p> - She was silent; perhaps she had not meant to say so much. - </p> - <p> - “Has he been ugly to you?” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't his meanness altogether. If that were all, I could have stood - it. I have tried hard enough to love him all the while. Even after he - first struck me—” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean—” - </p> - <p> - She smiled, half bitterly, and rolled her sleeve up above her elbow. Even - in that faint light he could see the discoloration on her forearm. “He - meant it for my head,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “Why, he's a brute.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled again. “Didn't you know that a woman can love a brute? It - wasn't that. Even when he made me live in the saloon, and when I found out - what his business really was—” she paused. “I was brought up a - little better than this, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have always thought that.” - </p> - <p> - “And when I learned that he wasn't—well, honest, I don't believe I - should have cared very much.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I guess he is not dishonest, is he?” - </p> - <p> - “He is bad enough, I'm afraid. He—I don't know—I don't believe - it would do any good to tell you—” - </p> - <p> - “No, don't, if you'd rather not, Madge.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care—I'd just as soon. You don't know what a relief it is - to have somebody I can talk out with. I have guarded my tongue so long. - And I suppose, even after all that is past, that if he hadn't left me—” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean that he has gone?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. “It comes to the same thing. He will drop in once in a while, - I suppose. But he has gone back to the Lake with Captain Smiley, and that - means that he wants to see—” she turned toward the shadow of the - oaks—“there's somebody up in Michigan that—that he—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have known it a long while.” She turned, looked at him, and spoke - impetuously: “Do you think I haven't been fair to him? Do you think he—anybody—could - say I hadn't stood all a woman ought to stand?” - </p> - <p> - Her real emotion caught Beveridge off his guard. For an instant he - hesitated; then he said gently: “Don't let it disturb you now, Madge. I - don't think he can bother you much more. There is no reason why that - shouldn't all slip into the past.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish it could.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge was silent for a moment. He wished to lead her into telling all - she knew about McGlory and his ways, yet he hesitated to abuse the - confidence so frankly offered. But, however—“There is one thing - about it, though, Madge,” he said quietly. “If he is on the Lake, he will - have to go where his boat goes, and there isn't much chance for him to get - into bad ways. Even if, as you think, he is dishonest, he will have to - behave himself until he gets back to town.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't understand,” she cried. “It is just there, on the water, that - he can do the most harm. I'm going to tell you, anyway. I don't care. He - is a smuggler, or a moonshiner, or something,—I don't know what you - would call it.” - </p> - <p> - “A moonshiner—here in Chicago!” - </p> - <p> - She nodded nervously. “He is only one of them. I have known it for a long - time, and sometimes I have thought I ought to speak out, but then he—oh, - you don't know what a place he has put me into—what he has dragged - me to! There is one thing I will say for Joe,—he is not the worst of - them. The rest are smarter than he is, and I believe they have used him - for a cat's-paw. But he is bad enough.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't know how hard this is to believe, Madge. That a man sailing on - a decent lumber schooner can manage to do enough moonshining—or even - smuggling—to hurt anybody—” - </p> - <p> - “But that is just it! It is in the lumber.” - </p> - <p> - “In the lumber!” He had stopped rowing, and was leaning forward. Had her - own excitement been less, she could hardly have failed to observe the - eager note in his voice. - </p> - <p> - “Yes—oh, I know about it. But it's no use saying anything. They will - never catch the head man—he is too smart for them—” Beveridge - took her hand, and held it gently in both his own. “Don't let's think any - more about any of them, Madge. I don't wonder it excites you—it - would anybody. But you are through with them all now.” She sat up, rigid, - and looked at him. “Are you sure I am?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “But how? Joe is my husband. Tell me what you mean. What am I to think? - You see what I have done. I have let you bring me out here; I have—I - have told you things that could put Joe in prison. Do you—do you - mean that you can help me—that I can get free from him?” - </p> - <p> - For a moment Beveridge thought of turning and rowing back. But he was not - yet through. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but he would - not retreat now. - </p> - <p> - “You are willing to be free?” he whispered. “Oh—yes.” - </p> - <p> - “To leave him forever?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we understand each other, Madge. It may take some time.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care—I don't care for anything now.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall have to do some thinking.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think it will be hard?” - </p> - <p> - “No, but we shall see. Shall we start back—I'm afraid you won't get - home till pretty late, now.” - </p> - <p> - “It doesn't matter; I'm alone there now, you know. But still, perhaps we'd - better.” As they rowed down the stream, and later, on the ride back to the - city, Beveridge could not but be fascinated by Madge, in the flow of - spirits that had come with the freedom of this evening. She liked to look - at him and to laugh at his little jokes. She caressed him in a hundred - ways with her voice and her eyes. She rode her wheel with the lightness of - youth, and led the way flying down the paved streets of the city. And when - at last she dismounted at “The Teamster's Friend,” and unlocked the side - door, she was in a merry glow. - </p> - <p> - “Come in,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you want to get to sleep? It is late.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not tired. We must have something to eat after that ride. Wasn't it - fine?” - </p> - <p> - So he went in with her, and they sat down to a cold lunch in the dining - room. - </p> - <p> - When he rose to go, and they were both lingering in the dining-room door, - he said, smiling, “By the way, Madge, while I think of it, I want an empty - bottle.” - </p> - <p> - “Come out into the bar-room. You can help yourself.” - </p> - <p> - She lighted the gas for him, and he went in behind the bar and rummaged - among some bottles and flasks that stood on the floor. At length he found - one that seemed to suit him, and stood a moment looking intently at the - label. - </p> - <p> - “Do you find what you want?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, this will do first-rate.” - </p> - <p> - She followed him to the door, and said, as he stood on the step, “When am - I to see you again?” - </p> - <p> - “In a few days.” - </p> - <p> - “Not to-morrow?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm afraid not. I expect to be out of the city over Sunday. I have to - go where I'm sent, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know,” she said, with a smile, “you have not told me anything - about your business? Why, I hardly think I know anything about you.” - </p> - <p> - “You will soon know enough.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled again. “Wait, you will have to be a little careful about - coming. Mr. Murphy goes away about ten o'clock every night. You might come - a little later, and then if Joe isn't here, I will be down. If you don't - see me, you mustn't ask any questions.” - </p> - <p> - “I won't.” - </p> - <p> - “And you will be thinking about—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. We 'll talk it over next time. Good night.” - </p> - <p> - “Good night,” she replied. And when he had walked a little way, he heard - her humming a tune to herself in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - Wilson was sitting in the shadow on the steps of the lumber office. He - rose and came forward. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, Bill!” - </p> - <p> - “That you, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “What's left of me. If I'd known you were going to be gone half the night, - I'd have brought a blanket.” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn't help it.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose not. Not even if she'd been fifty-five, with red hair and a - squint, eh?” Beveridge, instead of laughing, made an impatient gesture. - “Come out here in the light, Bert. Nobody around, is there?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Our friend the policeman went by ten minutes ago. Just as well he - didn't see you with your friend. They say he's a chum of McGlory's.” - </p> - <p> - “See what you think of this,” said Bedloe, drawing the bottle from under - his coat. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, you don't mean to say you've got it?” - </p> - <p> - “Take a good look.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. Well, I 'll be——! There's the red seal, and the - left foot a little out of drawing, and the right hand turned out instead - of in, and—is it?—yes, an imperfection in the capital C. Yes, - sir, you've got it! I won't say another word, Bill. You're a wizard. You - must have hypnotized her.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I got it. No matter how. And I got something else, too. Here, step - into the lumber yard before we're seen. Stenzenberger doesn't keep a - private watchman, does he?” - </p> - <p> - “No. He doesn't need it, with his friendly hold on the police.” - </p> - <p> - A board was loose in the rear fence. Within a very few minutes the two men - were stepping cautiously between the piles of lumber, Beveridge peering - eagerly into the shadows, his companion watching him and following close - behind. - </p> - <p> - “Wish we'd brought a lantern, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought of it. But it would hardly be safe.” - </p> - <p> - “Come this way—over by the Murphy and McGlory shed. That's where it - would have to be handled.” - </p> - <p> - Silently they tiptoed forward, reaching out with their hands, to avoid a - collision with the projecting timbers. Once Beveridge tripped and would - have fallen if Wilson had not caught his arm. “Wait—keep still, - Bert!” - </p> - <p> - “It's all right. We're way back from the street here.” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't the street I'm watching. See that light?” He pointed up to a - second-story window in the adjoining building. “She's still up; and it's - awful quiet around here.” - </p> - <p> - A moment later Beveridge stopped and sniffed. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you smell anything?” - </p> - <p> - “Ye-yes, guess I do, a little. But there are a lot of old kegs and bottles - on the other side of the fence.” - </p> - <p> - “There are no old kegs about this.” He moved forward, feeling and sniffing - his way along a pile of twelve-by-twelve timbers. “Here, have you that big - jack-knife on you, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; here it is.” - </p> - <p> - Cautiously, very cautiously, Beveridge began prying at the end of one of - the big sticks. - </p> - <p> - “Shall I lend a hand, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - “No; it's got to be done without leaving any signs of our being here. It - may take time—the thing is in for keeps, all right.” - </p> - <p> - During fully a quarter of an hour they stood there, Beveridge prying with - the long blade of the knife, his companion watching him without a word. - Finally Beveridge gave a suppressed exclamation. - </p> - <p> - “Fetched her?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Take hold—easy now.” - </p> - <p> - Together they pulled a long, circular plug from the end of the timber, and - set it on the ground. - </p> - <p> - “Just put your arm in there, Bert.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I 'll be——! Did she tell you about this?” - </p> - <p> - “She certainly did.” - </p> - <p> - “But how did you do it, man, without letting on?” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind about that,” replied Beveridge, shortly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. It's all there—no end of it.” - </p> - <p> - “All right now; that's enough. Let's put the plug back. Now's the time for - us to go slow.” - </p> - <p> - “You're right there. Even with this it will be awful hard to bring it - home. The next thing to get is the man. I wish we knew where that fellow - Roche went. What do you think?” - </p> - <p> - “I'd be willing to buy him a new hat if he isn't on the train for northern - Michigan just about now. But we don't need him very bad. We want a bigger - man than him.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—DRAWING TOGETHER - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0178.jpg" alt="0178 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0178.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE eleven days - Dick had given her for considering were going faster than any other days - Annie had known. To make it worse, she had to pass them alone, for - Beveridge, who was always diverting, hardly appeared after Dick sailed - away. It was now the afternoon of the tenth day, a bright, cool afternoon - with a southerly breeze and a rippling lake. She was in her room, looking - out at the pier, where the <i>Schmidt</i> lay, when a voice caught her - ear. She stepped nearer to the window and then could see Beveridge and his - friend Wilson standing on the beach. While she looked, Wilson said - good-by, and strolled over to the pier; and Beveridge turned irresolutely - toward the house on stilts, looking up at the flowering balcony. - </p> - <p> - Annie remembered that she had not watered her flowers. She always waited - until the shadows crept around to the eastern side of the house; they were - here now, so, filling her pitcher, she stepped out. Beveridge, fully - recovered from the odd sensations of his evening with Madge, raised his - cap, but found that she had turned her back on him and was absorbed in her - forget-me-nots. “Annie,” he called, “aren't you going to speak to me?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,”—she came to the railing,—“oh, how do you do?” - </p> - <p> - “Won't you come out?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—I suppose I might.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I 'll wait down here.” When she appeared on the steps, he - suggested a sail. - </p> - <p> - “I don't mind—if the wind holds. It's not very strong, and it may go - down with the sun.” She was looking about from lake to sky with the easy - air of a veteran mariner; and he was looking at her. - </p> - <p> - “Let's chance it.” - </p> - <p> - So they pushed out; and at the moment when Dick and the <i>Merry Anne</i> - were coasting along the bluffs above Grosse Pointe the <i>Captain</i> was - skimming out on a long tack for the Lake View reef. - </p> - <p> - Little was said until they were entering on the second mile, then this - from Beveridge, lounging on the windward rail, “Have you been thinking - about our talk that evening, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dear!” thought she; but she said nothing. - </p> - <p> - “You haven't forgotten what I said?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, the evening you came up for me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and Smiley came later.” - </p> - <p> - “But you don't—you don't want me to think that you meant—” - </p> - <p> - “But I did, Annie. Do you remember I told you I thought I had a fair - chance to be something in the world? Well, I'm nearer it than I thought, - even then. There are a good many things I'm going to tell you some day,—not - just yet,—but when you know them, you 'll understand why I've dared - to talk this way. If I didn't believe I was going to be able to do for you - all you could want, and more; if I didn't feel pretty sure I could help - you to grow up away from this beach, to get into surroundings that will - set you off as you deserve, I'd never have said a word. But I <i>can</i> - do these things, Annie. And if I could only know that I had the right to - do them for you—I want to take you away from here.” - </p> - <p> - “But I don't want to leave the beach.” - </p> - <p> - “I know—I think I understand just how you feel. It's natural—you - were born here—you've never seen anything else. But I can't stay - here, and I can't go without you. I can't get along anywhere without you.” - </p> - <p> - “But—” - </p> - <p> - “What, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “You've got along very—very well, lately.” - </p> - <p> - “No—that's just it, I haven't. My work has kept me out of town.” - </p> - <p> - “Your work?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I've—” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Beveridge, are you a student, or aren't you?” - </p> - <h3> - “I—” - </h3> - <p> - “Tell me, please. Some of the things you have said I don't understand.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—no, I'm not.” - </p> - <p> - “Then what you have said hasn't been true?” - </p> - <p> - “No—some of it hasn't.” - </p> - <p> - “And yet you—” She hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “In a very little while, Annie,—maybe only a day or two,—some - surprising things are going to happen. I wish I could tell you, but I - can't. I have been perfectly honest with you,—no, don't look at me - that way; it is true,—and if I have misled you in one or two little - things, it was only because I couldn't honestly tell you the whole truth - yet. A few days more, and you shall know everything. I'm not a student. If - I were, I could never offer you what I do offer you now.” He straightened - up, his eyes lighted, and an eager note in his voice compelled her - attention. “I have made a big strike, Annie, or so near it that it can't - get away from me now. I have no earthly business to tell you this,—I - never talked so to any one before,—but I have offered you - everything, myself and all I have, and it would be poor business not to - trust you with part of my secrets, too. I want you to know, because I - trust you; and because I—I'm going to be able to spare you some - disagreeable scenes.” He leaned forward. “Tell me, Annie, when does Dick - Smiley come back?” She turned and looked up the Lake. His eyes followed - hers; there, on the horizon, were the white sails of the <i>Merry Anne</i>. - </p> - <p> - “Then I can tell you sooner than I thought—to-morrow. To-morrow - night I 'll tell you everything. And maybe you will tell me too—everything. - Will you, Annie? If I come for you to-morrow night and tell you all about - myself, will you give me your answer?” - </p> - <p> - She was still looking northward; to-morrow was Dick's eleventh day. “I - can't,” she said slowly; “I have an engagement for to-morrow evening.” - </p> - <p> - “Not—not with him?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Break it, Annie, break it. Or no, wait—I won't say that. We 'll - just leave it. I'm willing to let it work itself out. I think, maybe, when - to-morrow comes, you won't want to see him any more than I want you to. I - won't tell you he's a rascal; I'd rather let you find it out for yourself. - I want you to know why I've spoken out this way, and how hard I have tried - to save you from doing something you would regret all your life.” - </p> - <p> - She was bewildered. - </p> - <p> - “Tell me this, Annie,—haven't you an aunt or anything here in town?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,”—her voice was hardly audible,—“Aunt Lizzie lives up by - the waterworks.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you go up there much?” - </p> - <p> - “Sometimes.” - </p> - <p> - “Won't you go to-day, and stay over till to-morrow about this time?” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “It may save you annoyance. I think some disagreeable things are going to - happen here—I'd rather not have you at home. It's only on your own - account.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see what can happen to me at home.” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing will happen to <i>you</i>, but don't ask me to tell you now. - To-morrow evening I 'll come up for you and bring you down, and then I 'll - tell everything. You see, I must have your answer to-morrow. I shall - probably have to go right away, and I couldn't go thinking I had left this—the - one thing of all that I care about—unsettled. I want you to know - that everything in the world I have to offer you is yours forever. I want - you to know this, and then, when you've thought it over and realized what - it means for both of us, I want you to come to me and give me your hand - and tell me that—that it's all right—that you give me - everything, too.” A long silence. “Let's sail up toward the waterworks - now, Annie. I can drop you off there at the pier, and bring the Captain - down alone.” - </p> - <p> - She looked again toward the Merry Anne. - </p> - <p> - He read her thoughts. “We needn't pass near her. We 'll run in close to - the shore.” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head. “I'm going to turn back.” - </p> - <p> - And back they turned. In vain he urged her, reproached her, pleaded with - her; hardly a word could he get during all the run back to the beach. He - pulled up the boat for her, and walked by her side to the steps. There, - with an odd pressure of the lips, she shook her head at him, as if afraid - to trust her voice, and mounted the steps. - </p> - <p> - “Annie, you haven't told me. Will you go?” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head again, and entered the house. Beveridge, motionless, - looked after her. Finally he turned, and glanced with a troubled air at - the approaching schooner, then at the sleepy pier, where he could see - Wilson stretched out flat holding out a bamboo fishpole over the water. - Behind the house Captain Fargo was mending his nets. Beveridge heard him - humming a song as he worked, and after hesitating a moment longer walked - around and greeted him. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do, Captain.” - </p> - <p> - “How are you?” The fisherman straightened his spare old figure and looked - at the young man. His face was brown above the beard, and crisscrossed - with innumerable fine wrinkles. Beveridge knew, in meeting those faded - blue eyes with their patient, subdued expression, that he was facing a man - whom he could trust. - </p> - <p> - “I have something to say to you, Captain, that may be a surprise,—I - want Annie.” - </p> - <p> - “You want her?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. You may think I've not known her very long, but it has been long - enough to show me that I can't go on any longer without her.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Fargo stood for a moment without replying, then asked simply, - “What does she say?” - </p> - <p> - “It isn't settled; I have told her how I feel, and asked her for an answer - to-morrow night.” - </p> - <p> - “Isn't she a little young?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't think so.” - </p> - <p> - “And you—you're a student?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm not.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think you could support her? I'm afraid we have taught her to - expect more than our position would seem to make right.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I can support her comfortably. You see, I—” - </p> - <p> - “Hasn't Annie told me you were a student?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I told her that, myself. There was a reason for it, Captain. The - situation is unusual, and my only chance of keeping her out of what is to - come lies in talking it out plainly with you.” He swept the beach with a - swift glance, stepped close to the older man, and spoke rapidly and - eagerly in a subdued voice. - </p> - <p> - The Captain removed his hat, and looked out over the water with a - distressed expression. “Are you sure you are right about this?” he asked, - when Beveridge had finished. - </p> - <p> - “Perfectly.” - </p> - <p> - “You know, it is generally easy to prove a thing when your mind's set on - it.” - </p> - <p> - “There is no doubt whatever. My mind is set on nothing but carrying out my - orders. Do you think I would tell you this if I didn't have the whole case - right in my hands—cold? I tell you, I've got it. It's the end of one - of the worst cases in fifty years.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don't know. I hate to think it.” - </p> - <p> - “In my business we learn not to think anything. I always thought Maxwell - would live and die in the work. If there was a clean man and a good friend - to me anywhere on earth, it was Tommy Maxwell. But he had this work before - me, and they paid him I don't know how much to cover the scent and skip to - Mexico. After all his experience, Tommy couldn't walk by that offer, and - now he must end up in Mexico for it. If I told you about the men and the - methods that I have had to fight in this business, you would find it hard - to believe me. In some ways it has been even a dangerous case.” This was - Beveridge's first opportunity to free his mind, and his tongue was - threatening to run loose. He was speaking with a certain pride. “You know - there is one of us shot, on the average, every year, in this work.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know,” said Fargo again. “Maybe you are right about her going. It - wouldn't be pleasant for her. I 'll speak to her mother about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, the sooner the better.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I 'll go in now.” - </p> - <p> - “One minute, Captain. You understand, don't you, my putting it before you? - It's just to spare Annie. There may be rough work.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I understand.” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll hardly find it necessary to tell Mrs. Fargo what I have told - you.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I suppose not. Though it would be perfectly safe with her.” - </p> - <p> - “If you don't mind, I'd rather not.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain went into the house; and Beveridge walked away. The <i>Merry - Anne</i> was at the moment coming slowly in toward the north side of the - pier. - </p> - <p> - When he had nearly reached the pier, Beveridge turned and stood frowning - and snapping his fingers. A glance told him that Wilson had just hauled - out a fine perch and was baiting his hook for another. He turned toward - the house, and found that the Captain was approaching him. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Beveridge, “will she go?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't said anything yet. I thought I'd turn it over in my mind. - Aren't you pretty young for this work, Mr. Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - “Not so very. Do as you like about it. I have said all I can.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's all right, of course; well, I 'll step in and see how Annie - feels about going.” - </p> - <p> - A second time they parted, and a second time Beveridge walked away. He - looked over his shoulder, and saw Annie running down the beach for - something she had left in the <i>Captain</i>. He hurried back and - intercepted her. - </p> - <p> - “Annie.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know if you understand—you see, I have gone a good way in - telling you what I have—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, of course, if you want to take it back—” - </p> - <p> - “But I don't. Not a word of it. I was only going to say—” he - hesitated again. She waited. “It isn't what I have asked you for myself; - that stands, Annie, and always will. It's the other. Don't you see how I - have put myself in your hands? I never did such a thing before in my life. - Just by letting you know that there's going to be something going on here - to-night, and by asking you to be away, I have put a lot of power in your - hands. You won't mind—you won't be offended—if I ask you not - to breathe a word of it to a soul?” - </p> - <p> - He waited, hoping for some reassuring word or sign, but she only looked at - him with wide eyes. - </p> - <p> - “You see a chance word might undo everything. If—” he glanced out - toward the two schooners—“if a hint of the facts gets out there to - him—don't you see? It simply can't happen. You know why I've told - you. It was because I love you, because I want to save you from it all,—that's - why I've put myself in your hands.” - </p> - <p> - But all she said was, “Don't say any more; I must go in.” - </p> - <p> - He was silent. But with one foot on the first step, she turned. “Wait, - tell me—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes?” - </p> - <p> - “Tell me—have you anything to do with that revenue cutter that was - in here the other day?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dear Annie, you mustn't ask me that.” Then she hurried into the - house. - </p> - <p> - In the kitchen Captain Fargo was trying to tell his wife some half-truths, - never an easy thing for him to do. - </p> - <p> - “But what is it? What's the trouble? I don't see that anything could - happen here that it would hurt her to see.” - </p> - <p> - “It wouldn't hurt her, but it really would be better to take her up to - Lizzie's. You and she could come back together to-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's me too! Now what is all this about, anyway?” - </p> - <p> - The Captain, instead of replying, spoke to himself: “I can't believe it. - There has been a mistake made. They never should have sent a boy of his - age to do such work.” - </p> - <p> - “What work? Is there something you have promised not to tell me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there is. Don't ask me what it is. Just talk it over with Annie, and - see if she won't go with you up to Lizzie's.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Fargo threw a glance at her husband, hesitated, then went up to - Annie's room. - </p> - <p> - “Let me in, dear.” Annie obeyed. “I want you to put on your things and go - out with me.” - </p> - <p> - “Not to Aunt Lizzie's?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Your father thinks—” - </p> - <p> - “Has <i>he</i> been talking to father, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Your father and I have been talking it over. He hasn't told me just why - he asks it—” - </p> - <p> - “But I know.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, do you?” There was a note of burning curiosity in these three words. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I do. And I don't believe a word of it.” - </p> - <p> - “It's nothing very bad, I hope?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don't mean that I understand it all, but I know something about it. - Mr. Beveridge had no right to go to father.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it was Mr. Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it was. Tell me, mother, did he—do you know what else he - said?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I haven't asked him. But he wants us to go very much, and I don't - think we had better say anything.” - </p> - <p> - “He wants you to go, too?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, mother, you won't think I'm very bad if I—don't go?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid your father—” - </p> - <p> - “Father doesn't understand it himself, I'm sure. It is all a mistake—” - </p> - <p> - “Your father thinks that, too.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, does he? Then he won't mind if I don't go!” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. I 'll tell him what you say.” The mother slipped out, and - returned to the kitchen. “She doesn't want to go, father.” - </p> - <p> - “But I have asked her to. I can't explain to you, or her—” - </p> - <p> - “She seems to know more than you do. She says it's a mistake.” - </p> - <p> - “It is; it must be. But I said—” - </p> - <p> - “Now, father, don't you think we'd just better not say anything more? - Nobody is going to hurt us in our own home.” - </p> - <p> - “No, he said that himself.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, suppose we just let her have her way. I could see something - was troubling her, and I think she'd best be let alone.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain had done what he could, so now he returned to his nets and - left his wife to begin getting supper. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge was standing at the shore end of the pier waiting for Wilson, - fish-pole on shoulder, to approach. “Well, what luck, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - Wilson held up a small string of perch. “Fair. It's too late in the day to - catch many.” - </p> - <p> - “Going up to the house?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I guess so.” - </p> - <p> - Then their voices dropped. - </p> - <p> - “Where will you be, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - “In the park here, by the road. You 'll be back early?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, soon as I can make the arrangements.” - </p> - <p> - “You have spoken to them at headquarters?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. So long.” - </p> - <p> - “So long.” - </p> - <p> - At seven o'clock, after supper, Captain Fargo was hailed by Henry Smiley. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Henry? Glad to see you. You haven't been around much - lately.” - </p> - <p> - “No, too busy.” - </p> - <p> - “On your way up-town?” - </p> - <p> - “No, just been. I ran out of tobacco and went up to get some. I generally - live on the schooner, you know. I have no other place to go to. That's the - devil of it, Cap'n, when you get to be my age without a home or a near - relation. There isn't a soul that cares anything about me.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess you need some supper. Come in with us, 'tain't all cold yet.” - </p> - <p> - “That wouldn't help any. I've had enough to eat.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by talking about your age? You're young yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you call forty-five young?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you think of me? I'm most sixty.” - </p> - <p> - “That's another story. When you go, you 'll leave something behind to show - that your life was worth living.” - </p> - <p> - “I wasn't much younger than you when I married.” - </p> - <p> - “None o' that for me,” said Henry, with a sort of smile. “I never was - minded to it. If you have seen anything worth while about living, you're - lucky. I never could.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Henry, I don't like to hear you talking that way. What's the - matter with you?” - </p> - <p> - Another questionable smile. “I 'll tell you how it looks to me. We have to - live with a pack of rascals, and heaven help the fools!” - </p> - <p> - “Henry, you're enough to give a man the blues.” - </p> - <p> - “I've had enough to-day to give 'em to me. To tell the truth, Cap'n, I - don't know what to make of Dick. I'm afraid he is one of the fools.” - </p> - <p> - “There isn't anything serious the matter, is there?” This was said - nervously. - </p> - <p> - “He's young, and independent. He has no idea of easing off his own notions - so as to keep things running smooth with other people. I've done - everything a man could to help him get on, but it's no use; he antagonizes - the only people who can help him. He's bristling all the time. A couple of - weeks ago he just naturally got sick of his mate and fired him. I smoothed - things over and got the Cap'n to suggest another. And now he's fired this - one, and won't have him on his schooner at all,—and I've had to take - him in for the night.” - </p> - <p> - “Wasn't there any reason?” - </p> - <p> - “Reason—yes. I know he means to tell the whole story, but he has no - idea how hasty he is sometimes. McGlory's so ugly I could hardly trust my - own self with him. I thought the best thing would be to walk off for a - while, and maybe we'd both cool off.” - </p> - <p> - “Dick's all right, though, isn't he? No—no trouble, or anything?” - </p> - <p> - “Why? Been hearing anything?” - </p> - <p> - “I—I've thought he wasn't quite himself lately.” - </p> - <p> - “Why did you think that?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I couldn't say, exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no, I don't think he's in any trouble.” Henry smiled again. “I - suppose you know as much as I do what's bothering him.” - </p> - <p> - “No. What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Well now, see here, if it's that way, I oughtn't to say anything. But you - don't quite follow. Surely, you know. Just about the little girl.” - </p> - <p> - “My Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Of course we all know how Dick feels there.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I've thought of it, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “That's another thing that's been bothering me. He's got no earthly - business to think of such a thing. I don't know what to make of him, - anyhow. I used to think I understood him, but Lord! he has new sides to - him every day—you might as well try to organize a volcano. It's kind - of discouraging. He's the nearest approach to something to care about I've - got, and if he would only let me, I'd like to sort o' push him along. But - I don't know—I don't know.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid I misled you a little just now, Henry.” - </p> - <p> - “How's that?” - </p> - <p> - “What I said about not having heard—I <i>have</i> heard something.” - </p> - <p> - “About Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I can't tell you what. I know it isn't so, but it has bothered me.” - </p> - <p> - “What sort of thing—about his character?” - </p> - <p> - “In a way—yes.” - </p> - <p> - Henry looked sharply at the Captain with an expression of doubt and - uncertainty. Then he half turned away. - </p> - <p> - “You aren't going, Henry?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, guess I'd better, and see what Mc-Glory's up to. I'd let him go back - to the city, but I want to see Cap'n Stenzenberger before he does. Good - night.” - </p> - <p> - Henry walked out on the pier to his schooner. - </p> - <p> - The evening came slowly on and settled over the lake. The breeze, instead - of dropping with the sun, had freshened, and now was stirring up little - waves that lapped the two schooners and the piling under the pier. Annie, - sitting out on her balcony in an inconspicuous dress, her arms on the - railing, was listening and watching—and waiting. She had heard Henry - say good night to her father, and had seen him walk out on the pier until - he was lost among the lumber piles. She saw the afterglow die in the - north, the red-gold lake fade to amber, to gray-blue, almost to black, - while the twinkle of the lighthouse on the point grew into a powerful - beacon and sent an arrow of light deep into the water. She watched the - horizon line grow dimmer and dimmer until it disappeared, and sky and lake - blended in darkness. All was quiet on the pier. The lights of the - schooners swayed lazily; occasionally a voice floated in over the water, a - quiet, matter-of-fact voice. She looked up the beach, down the beach; all - was peaceful. - </p> - <p> - But there was no quiet in Annie's heart. She was rigid; her hands were - clasped; her eyes shifted nervously from point to point. Once she got up - and went into her room and tried to read; but in a few moments she was - back. And there she sat until the late twilight had darkened into night. - </p> - <p> - Then she rose, passed through the room, leaving the light burning, stepped - out into the hall, and softly, very softly, closed the door. She stood - motionless, still holding the knob. Her father and mother were in the - sitting room quietly talking. She went slowly down the stairs, stepping - cautiously over the one squeaky step, and slipped through the hall. The - sitting-room door was closed. - </p> - <p> - “Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, mother.” - </p> - <p> - “Is that you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I'm out here.” - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing. I'm going out for a breath of air.” - </p> - <p> - “Where are you going?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, not far.” - </p> - <p> - “Come in soon, won't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, of course. I'm not going off anywhere.” - </p> - <p> - There was apparently no further need for quiet, yet she was half a minute - closing the front door after her. Again she looked up and down the beach. - She could see the street now on the low bluff; but no one appeared within - the light of the corner gas lamp. Then she hurried along the beach, - climbed up on the pier by some rough steps that she knew, and walked - rapidly out toward the schooner, stepping on the balls of her feet, and - avoiding loose planks. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - alt="206 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>NCE within the - shadow of the lumber Annie paused. Not a sound came from the two - schooners. She knew that the <i>Merry Anne</i> lay to leeward, on the - north side, and after a moment of listening and a glance behind she turned - toward it, making her way by feeling the lumber until she found an - opening. In another moment she stood at the edge of the pier, looking down - on the schooner. At first she thought Dick must be asleep, for there was - no light in the cabin; then she saw him sitting on the cabin trunk, his - hands clasped about his knees, his pipe between his teeth, his eyes fixed - on the dark water. The night was still, the lapping of the ripples was the - only sound. - </p> - <p> - “Dick,” she whispered. - </p> - <p> - He turned with a start and removed his pipe. Though he looked directly - toward her, he evidently could not see her, for her black dress blended - with the shadows. - </p> - <p> - “Dick,” she said again. - </p> - <p> - This time he ducked under the boom and came across to the rail. “Who's - there?” - </p> - <p> - “It's me, Dick. I'm coming down.” - </p> - <p> - “No, wait.” He stepped up beside her, and added, in a low, uncertain - voice, “You might wake Pink; he's sleeping below.” And before she knew it, - his pipe lay on a plank and he had taken both her hands. “You came out to - see me, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but wait, Dick; I don't know how to tell you—I couldn't help - coming—” He waited for her to go on, but she could not. She could - not even withdraw her hands, but stood motionless, her wits fluttering. - Finally he spoke:— - </p> - <p> - “You said you came to tell me—” - </p> - <p> - “Not that, Dick—not what you think. It's something else.” - </p> - <p> - He released her hands. He even, in his bewilderment, took up his pipe - again. - </p> - <p> - “I've found something out, Dick. I couldn't let it go by without telling - you. It's about—Mr. Beveridge.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Did you think he was a student?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I thought so.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he isn't at all.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Dick again. And then, “Isn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he has something to do with—don't you understand what I'm - getting at, Dick?” He shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “Are you going to make me tell you?” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't tell me anything you don't want to, Annie.” - </p> - <p> - “O dear, I don't understand it myself, much of it; but I thought you would - if what he says is true.” - </p> - <p> - “It's something about me, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Dick,—and the revenue cutter.” - </p> - <p> - “The revenue cutter?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, the <i>Foote</i>. He has something to do with her.” - </p> - <p> - “He's a revenue officer, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, or something. I don't know just what he is. But you understand it - now, don't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit.” - </p> - <p> - “But you must, Dick. He says something is going to happen, right here.” - </p> - <p> - “On the pier?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “When?” - </p> - <p> - “Now—to-night. I was afraid it would be before I could get out here. - And I had to wait till dark, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “But how do you know all this, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Beveridge—Mr. Beveridge told me more than he meant to, I guess. - And then he talked with father. And father and mother both tried to make - me go up to Aunt Lizzie's early this evening, so I wouldn't be here. It - was to save me from something, they said.” - </p> - <p> - “But I don't see, Annie—” - </p> - <p> - “Why don't you go, Dick. I've come out here to tell you, so you can sail - away before he comes. Then you won't have any trouble. There's a mistake, - I know; and when they have found it out, you can come back.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I couldn't do that, Annie. I have no reason to go away. If anybody - wants to see me, he knows where he can find me.” - </p> - <p> - This silenced Annie. She looked at Dick, and then looked away from him, - out over the Lake, not knowing what to say or think. - </p> - <p> - “You came out just to warn me, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. - </p> - <p> - “There must be something more then—something you haven't told me.” - </p> - <p> - “No—only he—Mr. Beveridge said a good deal—he tried to - make me believe you were—dishonest, or something.” - </p> - <p> - “And you didn't believe it?” - </p> - <p> - She made no reply to this. She was beginning to think about getting back - to the house. When Dick spoke again, it was in a gentler voice. - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad you came out, Annie, mighty glad. And I know you 'll be glad to - find out that he is wrong.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I know that—” - </p> - <p> - “But there must have been some things I don't understand at all. I don't - know but what it's a good thing he is here. If he can clear it up, it will - be better for all of us. So I 'll stay right here, and if he wants me, he - can have me. That's no reason why I should dodge any man living.” - </p> - <p> - “I knew it—I'm glad—” - </p> - <p> - Then Dick's reserve broke down. He caught her hands again. “But you can't - tell me your coming out here doesn't mean anything, Annie. You've told me - already what I didn't dare to ask you.” - </p> - <p> - “No, Dick, let me go. I'm going back.” - </p> - <p> - “But after this—you can't put me off now, Annie. Don't you see? It's - no use trying to make me think you would have done this for anybody, - because you wouldn't. I know it, and you know it.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Dick, please! I'm afraid—” - </p> - <p> - “If you only knew how I've felt this trip,—what a regular hell it - has been,—you wouldn't keep me waiting any longer. I know - to-morrow's the time; and I wouldn't have said a word to-night if you - hadn't come out here. But you <i>are</i> here, and you have let me know so - much that it's only a matter of saying a word. You can't blame me if I - take your coming that way.” - </p> - <p> - Annie was struggling, and Dick in his eagerness was holding her tightly. - But she got her hands free now and turned away. - </p> - <p> - “Let me go back with you, Annie. I—I 'll try not to bother you. I - didn't mean to just now. Hang it, I never can trust myself when—” - </p> - <p> - “No, you mustn't come.” - </p> - <p> - “Not even good night, Annie?” - </p> - <p> - But she hurried off without a word into the shadows, and felt her way - nervously until she reached the central roadway, where it was lighter. It - was now getting on toward nine o'clock, and nothing had happened. Perhaps - nothing was going to happen, after all. What with her hope that it all - might be a mistake, and her fear that she had come on a fool's errand, - Annie was in a pretty state of mind. She did not know what to make of - Beveridge; she did not know what to make of herself; the natural thing, - apparently, was to get angry with Dick, and this she was rapidly doing. - </p> - <p> - When she was passing the last but one of the lumber piles, hurrying along - with less caution than she had used in coming out, a man appeared out of - the shadow and blocked the way. She stepped aside and tried to run by, but - he, as quick as she, stepped aside too and caught her wrist. Then she saw - that it was Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Let me go!” she said breathlessly. - </p> - <p> - “No, Annie, wait. You decided to warn him, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “Let me go. You have no right to hold me.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes I have, more right than you know. Now tell me, why did you do it?” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Beveridge—” - </p> - <p> - “You must wait, Annie. No one is going to hurt you. If you had known what - you were doing, you never would have come. It's no place for a woman. But - now that you have done this, now that you are here, I think you had better - stay and see with your own eyes what you have done. Then perhaps you will - believe me.” - </p> - <p> - Poor Annie could say nothing more. Her head whirled. She let him lead her - back along the roadway. - </p> - <p> - Close to the spot where she had turned off to reach the schooner Beveridge - stopped. In a moment he was joined by another man. - </p> - <p> - “Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. What is it? Want me to take her home?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Wait here, in case I call. And have an eye on the other boat.” - </p> - <p> - “You aren't going to take her back there?” - </p> - <p> - “Never you mind what I'm going to do.” - </p> - <p> - “But look here, Bill! This is no place for—” - </p> - <p> - “Do what you're told and keep still.” - </p> - <p> - Annie heard this muttered conversation without taking it in. Beveridge - still held her wrist, held it tighter than he knew, but she was hardly - conscious of this either. She was caught up and whirled along on the high - wind of events. She was conscious only of Beveridge, of a new side to his - character. The young man she had known on the beach and aboard the <i>Captain</i> - had vanished. This Beveridge was hard, irresistible; his manner, the - atmosphere about him, spoke of some object that must be reached without - regard to obstacles. Her Beveridge had been friendly, considerate; there - was nothing considerate about this man. And yet, a part of his object was - to convince her that he was right and that Dick was wrong; and she knew - why. - </p> - <p> - Dick had gone back to his seat on the cabin trunk. Beveridge, gripping - Annie's wrist, stood at the pier edge, and looked down. - </p> - <p> - “Smiley,” he said. - </p> - <p> - Dick crossed the deck. “I'm Smiley. What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “I shall have to ask you to come away with me.” - </p> - <p> - “Who are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Beveridge, special agent of the United States Treasury Department.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what do you want me for?” Dick was peering forward, trying to make - out the figure in the background. - </p> - <p> - “I guess it isn't necessary to tell you that; I 'll give you a minute to - get what things you need.” - </p> - <p> - “Who have you got there?” - </p> - <p> - “It's me, Dick.” - </p> - <p> - “Annie!” Dick leaped up to the pier. “Have you dragged her out here to see—” - </p> - <p> - “Get back there on your schooner, Smiley. It won't be necessary to do any - talking. Anything you say is likely to be used against you. Get back - there.” - </p> - <p> - Dick looked at him a moment, then jumped down. Beveridge followed, helping - Annie, none too gently. - </p> - <p> - “Where's your man Harper?” - </p> - <p> - “Pink,” called Dick. “Pink, come up here.” - </p> - <p> - In a moment the sleepy mate appeared. - </p> - <p> - “Harper,” said Beveridge, “get an axe. Be quick about it.” - </p> - <p> - Pink looked at Dick, who said, “Go ahead. Do whatever he tells you.” - </p> - <p> - The axe was brought and handed to Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Smiley, you and your man go below, please.” - </p> - <p> - “Below?” - </p> - <p> - “To the hold. I 'll follow.” - </p> - <p> - “Pink,” said Dick, “get a lantern.” - </p> - <p> - They had to wait a minute, while Pink was lighting the lantern. There they - stood, without speaking, each watching the other. Finally Pink led the way - to the open hatch, and descended the ladder. Dick followed. Beveridge led - Annie to the opening. “Wait,” he said; “I 'll go first, and help you - down.” - </p> - <p> - Dick, standing below on the timbers, looked up like a flash. “I wouldn't - try to bring her down here if I were you.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not talking to you, Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - “No, but you will be if you bully her much longer. Just try to make her go - down that ladder. Try it!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge, without heeding, turned to Annie. - </p> - <p> - When he turned back, Dick, with itching fingers, stood on the deck beside - him. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go below?” - </p> - <p> - “Annie,” said Dick, “just say the word—just look at me—if you - want—look here, Mister Beveridge, I don't know much about law, but - it seems to me you haven't shown me any papers, and, until you do, you can - have your choice of letting go of her hand or losing your front teeth. - Just whichever you like.” - </p> - <p> - But Beveridge did neither. “No, Smiley,” said he, “we won't get into that - sort o' talk.” After which remark, he stooped over and looked down at Pink - and his lantern, and at the timbers on which Pink was standing. “I guess - maybe you can see without going down, Annie. Sit down here, and watch what - I do. Go ahead, Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0219.jpg" alt="0219 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0219.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - Dick again descended the ladder, and the special agent followed, axe in - hand. Annie, with horrified eyes, sat limp against the hatch and took in - every motion in that dimly lighted group below. She saw Dick and Harper - stand aside; she saw Beveridge raise the axe a little way and bring it - down sharply on the end of a stick of timber,—an end that was marked - with a circular groove; she saw the timber split open, and a plug fall - out; she saw Beveridge stoop and dip his fingers in a brown liquid that - was flowing from some sort of a broken receptacle; she smelled whiskey. - She was confused, she had only a half understanding of what it meant, but - she shivered as if a cold wind were blowing upon her; and when they had - all three mounted to the deck and were standing about her, she was still - sitting there, holding to something, she knew not what, and gazing with - fascinated eyes into the square black hole,—blacker than at first, - now that Harper was holding the lantern before her on the deck. But she - knew when Beveridge stepped forward to help her up, only to be brushed - aside by Dick, who raised her gently, with a low exclamation of pity, and - helped her across the deck. - </p> - <p> - The three men gathered about her at the rail. - </p> - <p> - “Before we go any farther,” said the agent, in a conversational tone, - “will you men walk into Cap'n Fargo's house with me and sit down while we - talk this over a little? If you say you will, I'm willing to take your - word. But if not, I have men on the pier and on the bank that might help - you to make up your minds.” - </p> - <p> - “That's not necessary. We 'll go with you. Just a step up, Annie. Put your - hand on my shoulder.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Mister Smiley. Come, Harper.” In passing his assistant, - Beveridge paused to whisper: “I 'll be at the house. See that McGlory - doesn't try to get ashore. If he gives you any trouble, whistle.” - </p> - <p> - A few moments more, and they were seated around Mrs. Fargo's dining table, - Beveridge, Dick, Pink Harper, and the old fisherman. Annie was shut in her - room, refusing admittance even to her mother. - </p> - <p> - “There's one question that comes up right here, Mr. Smiley,” began - Beveridge, “before we go any farther. Is this man Harper one of your - accomplices?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by that?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't take my time by evasions. You have given me trouble enough now. If - you will tell me he has had little or nothing to do with this business, - and if he can give a good account of himself, I 'll let him go. What do - you say?” - </p> - <p> - “Will you tell me what you mean?” - </p> - <p> - “That's enough. I won't waste any more time on it. We 'll hold him. - Cap'n,” turning to Fargo, “there's one thing—I guess you can - understand my position—I shall have to call on Annie for a witness, - a little later.” - </p> - <p> - Here Dick broke out. “So that's why you dragged her into this, is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Be careful what you say, Mr. Smiley.” Dick looked hard at him, then - glanced around the group, then settled back in his chair. After a short - silence, Captain Fargo spoke. - </p> - <p> - “This isn't all settled, is it, Mr. Beveridge? Dick hasn't told you that - what you thought was so?” - </p> - <p> - “It was hardly necessary. I found the proofs right there on his schooner.” - </p> - <p> - “Is that right, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “It seems to be.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say right out that you're a smuggler, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm not.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Fargo was puzzled. He looked from one to the other of the two men, - until Beveridge, with an air of settling the matter, rose. “You'd better - not throw away any sympathy there, Cap'n. You can be thankful to find out - in time that he's a bad one. I'm only sorry to have to draw your family - into it. I tried hard enough not to.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know that.” - </p> - <p> - There was a shout outside, a noise on the steps, and a hammering on the - door. Then before the fisherman could get out of his chair, the outer door - burst open, and down the hall and into the dining room came Wilson, - breathless, his hat still on his head. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Bert—” - </p> - <p> - “He's skipped!” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory? What were you thinking of? Where'd he go?” Beveridge was on his - feet. - </p> - <p> - “No use, Bill; sit down. It 'll take a steamer to catch him.” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't stand there and let him sail off.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait 'll I tell you. I was back a little way, where the pier narrows, - so's he couldn't slip by through the lumber. The schooner he was on, the—the—” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Schmidt</i>,” put in Pink. - </p> - <p> - “The <i>Schmidt</i> was on the south side, the—the—” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Merry Anne</i>” said Pink, “—was on the north. There's a south - wind, you see. And the first thing I knew I heard the tackle creaking off - to the left. Thinks I, that's from the <i>Merry Anne</i>, only there ain't - a soul aboard her. I ran out and looked, and sure enough, there she was, - with two or three men hauling away on the sails.” - </p> - <p> - “And you didn't stop 'em?” - </p> - <p> - “How could I, Bill? You see, they'd cut the ropes and let her drift off - down the wind. She was a hundred feet out before they made a move.” - </p> - <p> - “But what were they doing on the <i>Merry Anne?</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you see?” said Pink; “she can beat the old <i>Schmidt</i> hands - down.” - </p> - <p> - “They'd sneaked across out by the end,” added Wilson, “while I was nearer - shore.” Beveridge sat down again, and tapped the table nervously as his - eyes shifted from one to another of the faces before him. “How're they - sailing, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “Right off north.” - </p> - <p> - “Before the wind?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sure,” said Pink; “how could they help it with a south wind?” - </p> - <p> - “Smiley,”—Beveridge had turned on Dick, and was speaking in a keen, - hard voice,—“where are they going?” - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't tell you.” - </p> - <p> - “Think a little. Your memory's poor, maybe.” - </p> - <p> - But Dick was stubborn. Pink, however, was struck by a flash of - intelligence. “I 'll bet I know.” - </p> - <p> - “Where, Harper?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, to Spencer's, where we just come from.” - </p> - <p> - “Where's that?” - </p> - <p> - “Around in Lake Huron. If I had a chart here—Cap'n, ain't you got a - chart o' Lake Huron?” - </p> - <p> - Except for Pink's eager voice, the room was still. The four other men sat - like statues, leaning forward. As he waited for the reply, the boy became - suddenly conscious of the odd expression of their faces. He had meant to - help both Dick and himself—was he helping? - </p> - <p> - The thought that had already found a place in Dick's mind, the thought - that they were in the hands of a merciless agent, whose whole object was - to prove them guilty, whose own advantage, whose future perhaps, lay in - proving them guilty—and that the course to be followed was not a - matter for offhand decision, came now to him, and he faltered. - </p> - <p> - Captain Fargo shook his head. “No,” said he, huskily, “not even of Lake - Michigan.” - </p> - <p> - “Go on, Harper. Perhaps you can tell us. Your memory's better than - Smiley's.” - </p> - <p> - When Beveridge spoke that last sentence, he made a mistake. Pink glanced - at Dick, and dropped his eyes. When he raised them, his lips were closed - tight, as if he were afraid to open them at all. - </p> - <p> - “Well, go on.” - </p> - <p> - Pink shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “Don't be a fool, Harper. If you can help me get McGlory, it may make it - easier for you.” - </p> - <p> - “But him—” Pink motioned toward Dick—“would it make it easier - for him?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge shook his head. “I don't believe the Lord a'mighty could save - him.” - </p> - <p> - “Then,” said Pink, with a flash of anger, “you can go to hell for all o' - me!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge sat thinking. He looked at Dick from under his eyebrows, - studying the man with shrewd eyes. With the same scrutiny, he looked at - Pink. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket and consulted a list that - had been jotted on the back; and followed this with a Milwaukee - time-table, which he studied with eye and finger. “It's now—” he - looked at his watch—“nine-twelve. We 'll make the nine-forty. Come - along with me, Smiley.” Captain Fargo asked the question that Dick would - not ask. “What are you going to do with the boys, Mr. Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - “We're going to Milwaukee now, on the nine-forty.” - </p> - <p> - “To Milwaukee!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you.” Dick and Pink took their hats - and rose. Wilson stepped back to fall in at Pink's shoulder, leaving - Smiley to his superior. Suddenly Captain Fargo, after a moment of puzzled - silence, broke out with, “Wait—has anybody seen or heard of Henry?” - </p> - <p> - All looked blank. - </p> - <p> - “Where was he seen last?” asked the Special Agent. - </p> - <p> - “He was here on the beach after supper. We had a little chat together. - He'd been uptown after some tobacco, and said he was going right out to - the <i>Schmidt</i>, and would be spending the night there.” - </p> - <p> - “He hasn't been around since?” - </p> - <p> - “No—not here.” - </p> - <p> - “You haven't seen him?” This was addressed to Pink. Beveridge wheeled - suddenly on him in asking it, and raised his voice with the idea of - bullying him into a reply. But Pink shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “They wouldn't likely have lugged him across the pier with them. He may be - on the <i>Schmidt</i> yet. How about it, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't think so. I looked around the cabin. Shall I look again?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. We 'll wait here. You 'll have to hurry with it. We can't stay here - more than ten minutes longer.” - </p> - <p> - Wilson was out of the room at a bound, down the steps and across the beach - and running out on the long pier. In five minutes he was back. - </p> - <p> - “Well—” - </p> - <p> - “Not a soul there.” - </p> - <p> - “How many men did he have aboard? Do you know, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - “Only one or two, I guess, besides Mc-Glory.” - </p> - <p> - “They've gone along, of course. The only question is, did they take him - with 'em?” - </p> - <p> - “How could they?” said Wilson. “He is a strong man, and there wasn't any - sound of a scuffle. No, if there had been anything like that, I should - have heard it.” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll tell you what I think,” said Fargo. “It isn't what I think, either; - but it keeps coming up in my mind. He didn't seem quite himself when he - was talking to me.” - </p> - <p> - “How—nervous?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, but kind of depressed. He never says a lot, but then he isn't - generally blue like he certainly was to-night. He talked about McGlory, - too.” - </p> - <p> - “What did he say about him?” asked Beveridge sharply. - </p> - <p> - “He said that McGlory and Dick had disagreed, and Dick had ordered him off - his schooner, and he had taken him in for the night. McGlory, he said, was - so ugly there was no getting on with him. He had sort of made an errand - up-town so he could get away and cool down a little. I guess he felt so - glum himself he was afraid to trust himself with a man that acted like - McGlory was acting.” Beveridge was standing by the door, ready to start, - watching the Captain closely during this speech. Now a look of - intelligence came to his face. “How are Henry Smiley's affairs—money - and that sort of thing?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, all right, I think. He has always been saving. He must have a neat - little pile tucked away by this time.” - </p> - <p> - “And he wasn't married, or—” Beveridge paused. - </p> - <p> - “Not Henry. No, he was a woman-hater, pretty nearly.” - </p> - <p> - “Was he pessimistic—kind of down on things? Did he have any - particular object in living—anything to work for specially?” - </p> - <p> - “He was pessimistic, all right. Didn't believe in much of anything. I—I - know what you're thinking, Mr. Beveridge, but I—I can't hardly think - it's possible. I don't know, though, I guess his schooner was about the - only thing he cared for, except maybe Dick here.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, fond of his cousin, was he?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I think you could say he was that.” - </p> - <p> - “Had you dropped him any hint of what I told you?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now you speak of it, I don't know but what maybe I did let him see - that I was a little worried about Dick.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge nodded. “I can't wait any longer. Come, Bert. You, I suppose,” - turning to Dick and Pink, “will come along without any trouble?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly,” said Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Good-by, Captain—and say, by the way, Captain, if I were you, I - would send right up to the life-saving station and have them set a few men - to dragging out there.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you really believe that—” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge nodded. “If he is found anywhere, it will be within fifty feet - of the pier. Good-by. Come, Bert.” - </p> - <p> - They hurried over to the railway station, Beveridge walking with Dick, - Wilson with Harper. In the minute or two that they had to wait, Beveridge - scrawled the following message, and had it put promptly on the wire:— - </p> - <p> - “To Captain B. Sullivan, on board U.S. Revenue Cutter <i>Foote</i>, - Milwaukee. - </p> - <p> - “Am coming Milwaukee with two of our men. Third has stolen schooner and - headed Lake Huron. Will be aboard for chase about midnight. Kindly have - all ready. - </p> - <p> - “Wm. Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “<i>To Operator</i>:—If not there, try Sheboygan, Manitowoc, - Sturgeon Bay, and Marinette,—in order named. Beveridge. - </p> - <h3> - “RUSH!” - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX—THE CHASE BEGINS—THURSDAY MORNING - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0236.jpg" alt="0236 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0236.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE four men were - in the smoking-car, spinning along toward Milwaukee. Beveridge handed Dick - a cigar. Then, after a little:— - </p> - <p> - “Say, Smiley, I'm doing a rather odd thing with you.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—in taking you off here instead of having you locked right up in - Chicago.” - </p> - <p> - Dick waited. - </p> - <p> - “You see, I have thought this business over pretty carefully; I have - thought <i>you</i> over pretty carefully—and I like you. Now I have - been some time on this case, and I understand it, I think. I understand - you, and McGlory, and Stenzenberger, and the lot of you. But there is one - place where I'm still weak,—that is Spencer and his places up there - in Lake Huron. That is the only thing we haven't run down. I could get it - of course in time, but it <i>would</i> take time, and that's just what I - don't want to take now. I'm depending on you to set me right. Of course - it's your privilege, if you want, to shut your mouth up tight. But I don't - take you for that sort of a chap. I have a way of my own of going at these - things. There are some of our men would bully you, but that isn't my way—not - with you. I 'll tell you right here, that any help you can give me will be - a mighty good thing for you in the long run.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you expect me to tell you?” - </p> - <p> - “You will know at the proper time. All I want to find out now is whether - you are going to stand by me and help me through with it or not.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I will do what I can.” - </p> - <p> - “What does that mean exactly?” - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you all I know.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, sir. Now we understand each other. And I 'll do what I can to - make it easy for you.” - </p> - <p> - “There's one thing—” - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “What are you going to do with us in Milwaukee?” - </p> - <p> - “If we have to stop over night, why, we 'll go to a hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “Not the jail, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “No,”—Beveridge gave his prisoner a keen glance, then shook his - head,—“no, that won't be necessary.” - </p> - <p> - The <i>Foote</i> was not at Milwaukee; apparently she was not at - Sheboygan, Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay, or Marinette. Throughout the night, - while Dick and Harper were shut up with Wilson on the top floor of the - hotel, Beveridge haunted the telegraph office downstairs. Simultaneous - messages went out to Cedar River, Green Bay, Two Rivers, Kewaunee,—to - every little town along the west shore, even back to Kenosha, Racine, and - Waukegan. Then Beveridge thought of the east shore, and tried all the - ports from Harbor Springs down to St. Joseph, but with no success. He - dropped on the lounge in the hotel office for a cat nap now and then. And - finally, at half-past five in the morning, he was called to the telephone - and informed that the <i>Foote</i> had just been sighted heading in toward - the breakwater. - </p> - <p> - Promptly he aroused his prisoners, who obligingly tumbled into their - clothes; and the party drove down to the river and boarded a tug. A little - time was to be saved by meeting the revenue cutter before she could get in - between the piers. So out they went, past silent wharves and sleepy bridge - keepers, out into the gold of the sunrise. - </p> - <p> - There was the <i>Foote</i> nearly in, her old-fashioned engine coughing - hard, her side wheels beating the water to a foam, making her very best - speed of nine miles an hour. She caught the signal from the tug, stopped, - backed, and let down her companion ladder. Captain Sullivan, a grizzled - veteran, bearing evidences of hasty dressing, was at the rail to meet - them. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Beveridge, “I'm mighty glad to see you, Captain. I didn't - know whether you were on earth or not.” - </p> - <p> - “I got your message at Sturgeon Bay, and came right down.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you answer?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course,” somewhat testily. “You gave me no Milwaukee address. I sent - it to Lakeville.” - </p> - <p> - “That so? They should have forwarded it. They must have gone to sleep down - there.” - </p> - <p> - “I know nothing about that. All clear down there? All right, Mr. Ericsen!” - </p> - <p> - The tug backed away, the paddle-wheels revolved again, and the old steamer - swung around in a wide circle. - </p> - <p> - “You haven't told me where you want to go, Mr. Beveridge.” Captain - Sullivan was taking in Smiley and Harper with an eye that knew no - compromise. - </p> - <p> - “We 'll do that now, Cap'n. Mr. Smiley here is going to help us out a - little if you will show us your chart of Lake Huron.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>He</i> is!” was the Captain's reply. Then he turned abruptly and led - the way up to the chart room. - </p> - <p> - The chart was spread out, and the three men bent over it. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mr. Smiley,” said Beveridge, “can you put your finger on Spencer's - place?” - </p> - <p> - Dick did so. - </p> - <p> - “There's a harbor there, you say?” - </p> - <p> - “What's that nonsense,” broke in Captain Sullivan, “a harbor behind False - Middle Island?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” Dick replied, “a good one.” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better tell that to the Hydrographic Office.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't need to tell it to anybody. I've been in there with my schooner.” - </p> - <p> - “When was that, young man?” - </p> - <p> - “This month.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain turned away with a shrug, and joined his lieutenant on the - bridge. “We 'll make for False Middle Island, Mr. Ericsen, just beyond - Seventy Mile Point.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, sir.” - </p> - <p> - Deliberately, very deliberately, the Foote coughed and rumbled northward, - and Milwaukee fell away astern. She could not hope to catch the Merry Anne - if the southerly breeze should hold. The schooner was running light, and - even though she might have made but eighty or ninety miles during the - night, she was by this time more than abreast of Milwaukee, and on the - east side of the Lake, where she had the advantage in the run for the - Straits of Mackinac. - </p> - <p> - “Do you think,” asked Beveridge, when the Captain had gone to the bridge, - “that we can overhaul her in the Straits?” - </p> - <p> - Dick shook his head. “Hardly. She has had a pretty steady breeze all - night.” - </p> - <p> - “But it isn't very strong.” - </p> - <p> - “It doesn't need to be. There is nothing she likes better than running - before just such a breeze. And when the sun is well up, it will blow - harder.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you sure?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “This here is sort of an old tub, too.” - </p> - <p> - Dick sniffed. “You have to watch the bubbles to see which way she's - going.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge studied the chart. “See here,” he said, “where's the Canadian - hangout?” Dick laid his finger on the indentation that represented Burnt - Cove. - </p> - <p> - “Beyond the—what's this—Duck Island?” - </p> - <p> - “Just beyond the Duck Islands.” - </p> - <p> - “Which place do you think he will make for?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—I can only tell you what I think.” - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead.” - </p> - <p> - “What McGlory will do will be to head for Spencer and take off the old - man.” - </p> - <p> - “And then run over to Burnt Cove?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I think. Burnt Cove is in Canada, you see.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I see it is. The boundary line runs down west and south of - Manitoulin Island.” - </p> - <p> - “If you want to stop him very bad, you'd better have Captain Sullivan go - over to the boundary, close to Outer Duck Island, and then head for - Spencer. In that way we shall be approaching Spencer along the line that - McGlory must take if he tries to make the cove; and if it is not night, we - ought to stand a good chance of sighting him. I figure that we ought to - get up there just about in time.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, he doesn't know that we're so hot on his trail,” mused - Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - Dick sniffed again. “If you call this hot.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain returned from the bridge, and Beveridge repeated Dick's - suggestion. - </p> - <p> - “How are we to know this schooner?” - </p> - <p> - “She's sky-blue with a white line.” - </p> - <p> - “Is she fast?” - </p> - <p> - “She don't need paddle-wheels to beat this.” This remark did not please - Captain Sullivan. He turned away. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know how you feel, Smiley,” said - </p> - <p> - Beveridge, “but I didn't get much sleep last night. Did you?” - </p> - <p> - “Precious little.” - </p> - <p> - Within a few moments, while the colors of the dawn were fading, while the - <i>Foote</i> was pounding heavily along northwest by north, the special - agents and their two prisoners were sleeping like children. - </p> - <p> - At two o'clock Thursday morning the Foote lay, with motionless engines and - lights extinguished, to the southward of Jennie Graham Shoal, near Outer - Duck Island. Smiley and Harper, with Wilson close at hand, stood leaning - on the rail, watching a launch that the crew were lowering to the water. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Dick, in a low voice, “it looks as if we might get them.” - </p> - <p> - “Shouldn't wonder,” Wilson replied. He, too, was subdued by the strain. - </p> - <p> - “Pretty dark, though.” - </p> - <p> - “That isn't all on their side.” - </p> - <p> - “No, perhaps it isn't. Going to put out both launches, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “It looks that way.” - </p> - <p> - Cautiously and swiftly the sailors worked. One launch, and then the other, - was lowered into the water. - </p> - <p> - “Pretty neat, ain't it?” whispered Pink. “Why, with this wind they've got - to run in right by one or other of the boats to get to Burnt Cove. Would - they let us sail the <i>Anne</i> around, think, if they get her back?” - </p> - <p> - Dick shook his head. - </p> - <p> - Farther aft Beveridge was talking to Captain Sullivan. “It's the only - thing to do, Captain. With him along, we can't miss her.” - </p> - <p> - “I've nothing more to say. I don't like it; but he's your man.” - </p> - <p> - “One thing more, Captain. It won't hardly be necessary to send an officer - with me.” - </p> - <p> - “But—” - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> -“You see Wilson and myself, and about four husky sailors, a couple of - 'em to run the launch, will be enough, Why not just leave it that way? -You might tell your men they're to take my orders.” - </pre> - <p> - His meaning was obvious to the Captain; but he hesitated. This man - Beveridge was young and bumptious. Irregular things had sometimes to be - done, but it were best that they should be done by a seasoned officer. - Still, it was Beveridge's case. They walked together toward the prisoners. - </p> - <p> - “Smiley,” said Beveridge, “I'm going to take you along. I guess there - isn't much doubt you could tell your schooner in the dark?” - </p> - <p> - “Tell her in the dark!” exclaimed Pink. “Why, he knows the squeak of every - block!” - </p> - <p> - So Dick went. The Captain added a fifth sailor for safety, and took time - to give him a few quiet instructions before he joined the launch. Then - they pushed off and slipped away into the night. For four hours after - that, the only sound heard aboard the <i>Foote</i>, where Pink, sleepless, - hung over the rail, guarded by a deep-chested sailor, was the occasional - puff-puff of one of the launches as it changed its post. A dozen pairs of - eyes were searching the dark, looking for any craft that might be coming - from Michigan. - </p> - <p> - As Captain Sullivan suspected, Beveridge's launch was over the Canadian - boundary half an hour after she lost sight of the ship. Then Beveridge - drew Dick back near the boiler. “Tell me this, Smiley. Do you think those - fellows could possibly have got through before now?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't much doubt of it.” - </p> - <p> - “What makes you think so?” - </p> - <p> - “Because of the wind. It has never let down a minute since they started. - If they lost no time at Spencer's, they could have done it easily.” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I thought. Will you take the wheel and pilot us into Burnt - Cove?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure, if you want me to.” - </p> - <p> - Dick took the wheel. The fifth sailor spoke up. “You can't do that, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't do what?” said Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Take the wheel, sir. Powers is to keep the wheel. That's the orders.” - </p> - <p> - “There's nobody but me giving orders here.” - </p> - <p> - “Sorry, sir; but Powers has got to keep the wheel.” - </p> - <p> - “We won't have any talk about this, young man. I'm a special agent of the - United States Treasury Department, and I'm running this business. Powers - can sit down.” - </p> - <p> - The sailor's orders evidently did not warrant him to resist further. - </p> - <p> - Dick looked about for his bearings. Dimly he could make out the islands to - the left. “What does she draw?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Two feet.” - </p> - <p> - With only two feet of draft he could take chances. He was directly on the - course that the Merry Anne had taken in leaving the cove, and he felt as - certain, with the compass before him, as if he had made the trip by night - a hundred times. There was very little sea, and the launch made good - progress. “You might tell the engineer to crowd her all he can,” he said - to Beveridge. “It's quite a run.” - </p> - <p> - Once Dick glanced back; and he winced. There sat Wilson, on his left hand - and not a yard away, with a rifle across his knees. At this moment - Beveridge returned from a whispered consultation with the engineer, and - scowled at his assistant. “That isn't necessary, Bert,” said he. “Put it - up.” - </p> - <p> - The overzealous young man laid the rifle on the seat behind him; and - Beveridge, after a moment of hard thinking, his eyes fixed on Dick's - muscular back, came up beside the wheel and leaned on the coamings. Dick's - gaze left the compass only for the darkness ahead, where the outline of - something that he knew to be a coast line was, to his trained eye, taking - shape. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Smiley,”—the special agent's voice was lowered; his tone was - friendly,—“don't let that bother you. Nobody is holding a gun on you - here. That isn't my way—with you.” - </p> - <p> - Dick's eyes were fixed painfully on the compass. - </p> - <p> - “I just want you to know that it was a mistake. These guns aren't for - you.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge, having said enough, was now silent. Apparently too boyish for - his work, often careless in his talk, he was handling Smiley right, and so - well did he know it that he was willing to lounge there at his prisoner's - elbow and watch the course in silence. If Beveridge was ambitious, greedy - for success and promotion, frequently unscrupulous as to the means to be - employed,—as now, when he was deliberately going into English - territory, an almost unheard-of and certainly unlawful performance,—hard, - even merciless, so long as he regarded only his “case”; he was also - impulsive and sometimes warm hearted when appealed to on the personal - side. He had, before now, gone intuitively to the heart of problems that - stronger minds than his, relying on reasoning alone, had been unable to - solve. - </p> - <p> - Much as a bank teller detects instantly a counterfeit bill or coin, he - picked his man. He was quick to feel the difference between a right-minded - man who has fallen into wrong ways and the really wrong-minded man. His - course tonight was a triumph. He had given his prisoner the means to lead - his little party to destruction, but he knew perfectly that nothing of the - sort would be done. More, the only man aboard who could prove in court - that he had gone over that vague thing, the boundary line, was this same - prisoner, who should, by all sensible thinking, be the last man to trust - with such information; and yet he felt perfectly comfortable as he leaned - out a little way and watched the foam slipping away from the bow. - </p> - <p> - The launch went on toward the increasing shadows, plunged through the - surf, and glided into the cove. - </p> - <p> - “See anything?” whispered Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Not a thing,” Smiley replied. - </p> - <p> - “She isn't here, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “No, neither of them.” - </p> - <p> - “Neither of what?” - </p> - <p> - “Neither the <i>Anne</i> nor the <i>Estelle</i>, Spencer's schooner. Shall - we go back outside?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “You speak to the engineer, then. This bell makes too much noise.” - </p> - <p> - They backed cautiously around and returned through the surf to deep water. - </p> - <p> - “Lie up a little way off the shore here,” said Beveridge; “we 'll cut them - off if they try to get in.” - </p> - <p> - For a moment nothing was said; then this from Smiley, “Do you mind my - saying a word?” - </p> - <p> - “No. What?” - </p> - <p> - “It has just struck me—we are wasting time here.” - </p> - <p> - “You think so?” - </p> - <p> - “I know so.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “It stands to reason that McGlory would expect to be chased, don't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Of course.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, he is not going to put right over here after he has taken off - old Spencer, is he? It's almost like running back on his course—amounts - to the same thing.” - </p> - <p> - “But he is likely to come here, isn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “I should think so.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” impatiently, “how else could he do it?” - </p> - <p> - “Easily enough. He could go right on east from Spencer's place and make - for Owen Channel, up near the head of Georgian Bay. That's at the other - end of this island.” - </p> - <p> - “Manitoulin Island? Is it as big as that?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it lies all across this end of Lake Huron. If he went through Owen - Channel, he could get around into the North Channel, and then down into - Bayfield Sound and Lake Wolsey. Bayfield Sound, you see, pretty nearly - cuts the island in halves. It is right opposite here, only a few miles - overland. That would be a long way around, but it is the safe way. You - see, I've been thinking—” - </p> - <p> - “Well—what?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, he would be likely to think just like I did, that when you had got - up here you wouldn't be able to resist coming on across the line.” - </p> - <p> - “You seem to know these routes pretty well for a man who has been to - Spencer's only once.” - </p> - <p> - “I saw it on the chart the other day. A man couldn't help figuring that - out.” - </p> - <p> - “What would you suggest doing?” - </p> - <p> - “Putting for Spencer's, just as tight as your old stationary wash-tub can - make it.” - </p> - <p> - “But hold on, now. If you think they have got away from there long ago—” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>think</i> that, but I'm not sure. Supposing they have—then - you've lost them anyhow. Don't you see? But suppose there was a delay in - getting away there,—it's more than likely McGlory and Spencer - wouldn't agree. McGlory isn't the agreeing kind, and I don't think Spencer - is either. It will be daylight before so very long, and with this wind - they can't get here, if they're coming here at all, without our sighting - them on the way over. And there is just a fighting chance of catching them - there before they make for Georgian Bay, or some other place we don't know - of.” Beveridge thought a moment. “There is something in that. We 'll do - it.” - </p> - <p> - At mid-morning the <i>Foote</i> stopped her engines abreast of False - Middle Island, and Captain Sullivan sent for Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “You tell me there is a harbor in there?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I understand. But it won't be necessary to take the steamer - in.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain's expression showed that he had not the slightest notion of - taking her in. - </p> - <p> - “I think,” Beveridge went on, “that you had better put me ashore with a - few men in there north of the island. I 'll go around behind the - sand-dunes and come on the place from the woods. Then if they should be - there, and if they should try to run out, you can stop them. I 'll have - Smiley guide me.” - </p> - <p> - “You're going to take him ashore with you? - </p> - <p> - “That's what I'm going to do.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't believe in this!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge said nothing. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, very well. I 'll have a boat ready.” Smiley was called, and Beveridge - drew him aside and outlined his plan. Shortly Wilson joined them, and a - half-dozen sailors were picked from the crew. Then, all but Smiley armed - with rifles and revolvers, they descended to the small boat and were - brought rapidly to the shore. - </p> - <p> - “Which way?” asked Beveridge, sticking close at Smiley's elbow. - </p> - <p> - “I 'll show you; come along.” He led the way back among the pines and made - a circuit, bringing up squarely on the landward side of the settlement. - </p> - <p> - “Where is it now, Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “Right there.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge peered out through the trees, then beckoned his men together. - “Come in close, boys, and pick your trees. Keep out of sight—and - quiet. Take my rifle, one of you.” - </p> - <p> - “Shall we go in?” asked Wilson. - </p> - <p> - “You stay here, Bert.” - </p> - <p> - “Hadn't you better take your rifle?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I don't want it. Quiet now.” - </p> - <p> - The men spread out, taking places where they could command the - outbuildings. - </p> - <p> - “Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Which is Spencer's house—where he lives himself?” - </p> - <p> - “The biggest one. You can see the roof over that shed there.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. Much obliged.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge walked rapidly out into the clearing and disappeared around the - shed. They heard him mount Spencer's front steps and knock. - </p> - <p> - “He's plucky enough,” muttered Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don't you worry about Bill Beveridge,” said Wilson. “Why, I've seen - him—” - </p> - <p> - But Beveridge was calling for them to join him. - </p> - <p> - “Nobody here?” asked Wilson. - </p> - <p> - “Not a soul. I took a look around the house. They left in a hurry. See - there.” - </p> - <p> - He nodded toward the harbor. There lay the Merry Anne at the wharf. The - smaller schooner was not to be seen. - </p> - <p> - “Too late, eh?” said Wilson. - </p> - <p> - “Too late.” - </p> - <p> - “Suppose they've gone overland?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit of it. They left Smiley's schooner here and went off in - Spencer's.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he had one too?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly he did.” - </p> - <p> - Dick had made headlong for the schooner. Now they saw him standing on the - after deckhouse, reading a paper which he had found nailed to the mast. - </p> - <p> - “What have you there?” called Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Come and see.” - </p> - <p> - The special agent joined him and took the paper. “It's hard enough to - read. Whoever wrote this was in a big hurry. What's this? 'Left again. - You'd better foot it home. Whiskey Jim.' Whiskey Jim, eh? He's stealing - your thunder, Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - “Will you let me see it again?” said Dick. He sat down on the edge of the - deck-house and read it over, gazing at it with fascinated eyes. The other - men watched him curiously. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X—THURSDAY NIGHT—THE GINGHAM DRESS - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0260.jpg" alt="0260 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0260.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ELL,” said Wilson, - “what do you think?” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll do our thinking later. Take these men and search the place. Smiley - and I will wait here.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't expect them to find anything, do you?” asked Dick, when the - others had gone. - </p> - <p> - “Can't say. We've lost the men, but we may get some evidence.” - </p> - <p> - “Where do you think they are?” - </p> - <p> - “Where could they be but in Canada?” - </p> - <p> - Dick was silent. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Smiley, I like the way you're acting in this business. If anything - on earth will make it any brighter for you, it is what you are doing now. - You might even go a step farther if you should feel like it any time. It's - plain that McGlory and Spencer are pretty deep in, and if you would come - out and tell all you know, it might help you a lot.” - </p> - <p> - “I have told all I know.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, of course,—that's just as you like.” - </p> - <p> - They were silent again for a few moments. Then Dick spoke up. “You feel - pretty sure about their being in Canada, don't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Have you thought of anything else?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Where is the other revenue cutter now?” - </p> - <p> - “The <i>Porter?</i> At Buffalo, I think,—or Cleveland, or Detroit.” - </p> - <p> - “And she's about twice as fast as the <i>Foote</i>, isn't she?” - </p> - <p> - “Just about.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, supposing they weren't sure but what she would be sent up here - too? It was as likely as not.” - </p> - <p> - “It should have been done.” - </p> - <p> - “Then wouldn't they have been fools to have put right out again to cross - the Lake—with one steamer coming down on 'em through the Straits and - another coming up from Detroit?” - </p> - <p> - “Fools or not, they did it. We know that much.” - </p> - <p> - “Do we?” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Don't</i> we!” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see it.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you see what they've done? They have left your schooner here and - gone off in Spencer's. - </p> - <p> - “Who has?” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Smiley, you are on the wrong side of this case. You ought to - be working for the government.” - </p> - <p> - “I may be before I get through with it. You see what I'm driving at, don't - you?” - </p> - <p> - “About yourself?” - </p> - <p> - “Hang myself. About Spencer.” - </p> - <p> - “And McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not McGlory. Just Spencer.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “Just this—” - </p> - <p> - Wilson approached. “There's nobody here, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait over there a minute, Bert, with the boys. Go on, Smiley.” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory is a sailor; Spencer isn't. McGlory would feel safer on a boat; - Spencer knows these woods like a book. Do you follow?” - </p> - <p> - “Go on.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, I'm just as sure as that I'm sitting here, that when it came to a - crisis like this, those two would disagree.” - </p> - <p> - “And you ought to know them.” - </p> - <p> - “I know McGlory. He isn't the kind that takes orders from anybody, drunk - or sober. And from the look I had at old Spencer, I don't think he is - either. He looked to me like a cool hand. Quiet, you know, with a sort of - cold eye. It doesn't sound like Spencer to put out into the Lake with - revenue cutters closing in all around him.” - </p> - <p> - “But does it sound like McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. He's bull headed.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you think the other schooner <i>was</i> here?” - </p> - <p> - “More than likely.” - </p> - <p> - “And McGlory took it and Spencer didn't?” - </p> - <p> - “That's getting near it.” - </p> - <p> - “And who wrote that note?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. I never saw Spencer's writing, and McGlory's only once or - twice. It's written rough, but it looks familiar, somehow.” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory's work then, likely?” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe.” - </p> - <p> - “But what object would Spencer have in staying behind? Where could he go?” - </p> - <p> - “He could get out of Michigan and down to Mexico without one chance in a - hundred of being caught—not unless you had men on every train in the - United States.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean he would make for a railway?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “But he would have to go to Alpena to do it.” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit. He needn't go anywhere near the coast. There's a town called - Hewittson, on the Central Road, about fifty miles back in the woods, - southwest of here. It's the terminal of a branch line, and it's the - nearest point.” - </p> - <p> - “Even then he would have to go through Detroit or Michigan City, where we - <i>have</i> men.” - </p> - <p> - “No, he wouldn't. He could get over to the Grand Rapids and Indiana with a - few changes and without passing through a single big town. When he once - got down there in Indiana, you would have a pretty vigorous time catching - him.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge mused. “This is all very interesting, Smiley, but it is hardly - enough to act on.” - </p> - <p> - “Isn't it, though? What earthly good could you do on the water that - Captain Sullivan couldn't do just as well without you? There he is with - his men, and he ought to do what you tell him.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know about that,” said Beveridge, with a smile. - </p> - <p> - “Anyhow,” Dick went on eagerly, “the old <i>Foote</i> isn't going to make - any more miles an hour for having you on board.” - </p> - <p> - “There's something in that. You seem to be keen on this business.” - </p> - <p> - “Keen! Good Lord, man! don't you see the position I'm in? Don't you see - that my only chance is to help you run this down and get at the facts? - Honest, I don't see what you could lose by taking a flier overland to - Hewittson. It's just one more chance opened up for you, and you ought to - take it.” - </p> - <p> - “How did you happen to know so much about these railroads up here?” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't suppose I had my eyes shut when I was looking at that chart - the other day, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “It seems to me you took in a lot in a thundering short time.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course I did. It is my business to take in a lot when I look at a - chart.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, this is interesting, Smiley. I 'll think it over. Come on, boys.” - </p> - <p> - The sailors rowed them back to the steamer; and the special agent was - promptly closeted with Captain Sullivan. He laid out the whole situation, - suggesting that the Captain keep a close watch on the Burnt Cove region - and that he leave a launch at Spencer's. The fugitives had left nearly all - they had, even to clothing, behind, and it was conceivable that they might - return. - </p> - <p> - “I wish,” he added, as he rose to go, “that I could call on the county - authorities. Wilson and I may have our hands full if we meet them.” - </p> - <p> - “You think you'd better not?” - </p> - <p> - “Hardly. It is even chances that they are mixed up in the business some - way. Spencer has known them longer than we have.” - </p> - <p> - He left the Captain's stateroom, and found Smiley waiting for him by the - wheel-house. “There's one thing I didn't say when we were talking,” began - the prisoner, looking with some hesitation at the agent. - </p> - <p> - “What's that, Smiley? Speak up. I'm starting now.” - </p> - <p> - “You're going to try it, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Will you take Pink and me with you?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge straightened up and flashed a keen, inquiring glance through - Dick's eyes, down to the bottom of his soul. Dick met it squarely. - </p> - <p> - “By Jove!” said Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - Not a word said Smiley. - </p> - <p> - “By Jove! I 'll do it!” - </p> - <p> - Dick turned away, limp. - </p> - <p> - “Smiley!” - </p> - <p> - He turned back. - </p> - <p> - “Where's Harper?” - </p> - <p> - “Down below.” - </p> - <p> - “Bring him to my stateroom. Be quick about it.” - </p> - <p> - A very few moments more, and Dick and Harper knocked at the special - agent's door. - </p> - <p> - “Come in.” - </p> - <p> - They entered, and found Beveridge and Wilson together. Beveridge closed - the door, and there the four men stood, crowded together in the narrow - space. Beveridge gave them another of his sharp glances, then he drew from - his coat pockets two revolvers and held them out, one in each hand. - </p> - <p> - Dick and Pink looked speechless. - </p> - <p> - “Well, take 'em. You boys are to help me see this thing through, now.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you—do you mean that?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't joke with pistols.” - </p> - <p> - Without more words each reached out. Dick thrust his into his hip pocket; - but Pink opened his and looked at the loaded cylinder. - </p> - <p> - “Now, boys,” said Beveridge, “we're off.” Wilson descended first to the - launch, and Dick was about to follow when Captain Sullivan hurried up and - caught his arm. “Here, here! This won't do!” - </p> - <p> - Dick turned, and started to speak; then, seeing that Beveridge was - approaching, he waited. - </p> - <p> - “That's all right, Captain,” called the special agent; “let him go.” - </p> - <p> - “Let him go!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge drew the Captain aside. - </p> - <p> - “You aren't going to take him ashore with you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, both of 'em.” - </p> - <p> - Anger was struggling with disgust in the Captain's face. “You'd better - hand 'em revolvers and be done with it.” - </p> - <p> - “I've done that already.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you <i>have!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. And I don't mind telling you that, guilty or not, there aren't - two men I'd feel safer with in the Southern Peninsula.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there <i>ain't!</i>” A feeble reply, but the old Captain was beyond - words. “Very well,” was all he could get out, “very well!” - </p> - <p> - With that they parted; and the boat, with the strangely selected party - aboard, made for the shore. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Smiley,” said Beveridge, when the boat had left them on the sand, - “how about our direction?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly southwest from here. I suppose we shall have to make for - Hewittson in a straight line, and see if we can't get there first.” A sort - of road led off in a southwesterly direction, and this they followed for - an hour. Then it swung off to the left, and they plunged into the forest, - from now on to be guided only by the compass. The afternoon wore along. - For two hours, three hours, four hours, they tramped through the forest, - which now opened out into a vista of brown carpet and cool shade, now ran - to a blackened jungle of stumps and undergrowth; but always underfoot was - the sand, no longer white but yellow and of a dustlike quality. It gave - under the foot at every step; it rose about them and got into their - throats and finally into their tempers. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Smiley,” called Wilson. He had swung his coat over his shoulder; his - face was streaked with sweat and dirt; the spring was gone from his - stride. “Say, Smiley, where are those streams you were talking about?” - </p> - <p> - “Give it up.” - </p> - <p> - “This is a pretty place you're getting us into.” - </p> - <p> - “Shut up, Bert!” said Beveridge. “You tend to business, and quit talking.” - </p> - <p> - “Who's talking? Can't I ask a civil question?” - </p> - <p> - “From the sound, I guess you can't.” - </p> - <p> - “You're saying a word too much there, Bill Beveridge!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge stopped short and wheeled around. He had tied the sleeves of his - coat through one suspender so that it hung about his knees and flapped - when he walked. His waistcoat was open, his collar was melted to a rag; - altogether he was nearly as tired and hot as his assistant. - </p> - <p> - “What do you say to sitting down a minute?” suggested Smiley, - diplomatically. - </p> - <p> - But Wilson returned to the attack. “How long are you going to keep on this - way, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - The obstinate quality in Wilson's voice roused a counter-obstinacy in - Beveridge. He decided not to reply. - </p> - <p> - “Maybe the sand's getting into his ears so he can't hear well,” said - Wilson, addressing Harper as nearly as anybody. But Pink, rather than get - into the controversy, went off a little way to a spruce tree and fell to - cutting off a piece of the gum. - </p> - <p> - “It's just as you like, Bill,” pursued Wilson. “Of course, it ain't any of - my business,—but I just thought I'd tell you we passed that big - clump of pines over there about two hours and a half ago.” - </p> - <p> - In spite of him, Beveridge's eyes sought the spot indicated. - </p> - <p> - “I don't care, you understand, Bill. I 'll go where I'm ordered. But if - you <i>will</i> go on trusting that compass of yours, don't you think - maybe we'd better be thinking about saving up what sandwiches we've got - left? These Michigan woods <i>ain't</i> a very cheerful spot to spend the - fall, unless you've planned that way, you know,—brought tents and - things, and maybe a little canned stuff.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, go to——!” muttered Beveridge, without turning. - </p> - <p> - “What's that you said?” Wilson was on his feet. - </p> - <p> - Here Smiley broke in with the suggestion that they try marking trees. - </p> - <p> - And for an hour they were tearing their shirts to strips, and sighting - forward from tree to tree; then the early twilight began to settle on the - forest. They spoke of it no more, but pushed on feverishly under the - leadership of Beveridge, whose spirits, which had reached low-water mark - in the difference with Wilson, were flowing again. From rapid walking they - took to running; still the twilight deepened. Finally the uneven ground - and the deep shadows led them into scratches and tumbles, and they were - obliged to stop. - </p> - <p> - “Bill,” said Wilson, “look over there.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “That tree—runs up six feet or so, and shoots off over the ground, - and then turns square up again.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. What about it?” A queer sound was creeping into the special agent's - voice. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you remember—about three o'clock—the tree we passed? - Harper said it was exactly like a figure four, because of the broken part - that stuck up above the branch,—and you said—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, but—” - </p> - <p> - “Just take a good look at it.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge stepped a little way forward and looked and looked. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge was silent. His eyes left the tree only to fix themselves on the - ground. - </p> - <p> - “What do you think, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - Instead of replying, the special agent turned abruptly and walked away - through the brush. He soon disappeared, but his assistant could hear him - thrashing along. In a few moments he returned, and without a word set - about building a fire. They all lent a hand, and soon were sitting around - the blaze, moody and silent. - </p> - <p> - “Say, boys,”—it was Smiley speaking up,—“I have an idea. Let - me take your compass a minute, Beveridge.” - </p> - <p> - There was no reply. Smiley thought he had not been understood. “Let's have - your compass, Beveridge.” - </p> - <p> - Then the special agent looked up. “If you can find it, you're welcome to - it,” he said. “Why, you haven't lost it?” - </p> - <p> - “If you've got to know, I've thrown it.” - </p> - <p> - “The———you have!” - </p> - <p> - A moment's silence. Somewhere off in the wilderness a twig crackled, and - they all started. Harper's scalp tingled during the long stillness that - followed the sound. - </p> - <p> - “What did you do that for?” asked Smiley. “Because we're sitting at this - moment within a hundred feet of where we sat at three o'clock this - afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - After this the silence grew unbearable. “I don't know how you fellows - feel,” said Wilson, “but I'm thirsty clear down to my toes. If there's any - water around here, I'm going to find it.” He drew a blazing pine knot from - the fire and started off. - </p> - <p> - “Look out you don't set the woods afire,” growled Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - For five minutes—long minutes—the three sat there and waited. - Then they heard him approaching, and saw his light flickering between the - trees. He came into the firelight, and paused, looking from one to another - with a curious expression. It almost seemed that he was veiling a smile. - </p> - <p> - “Come this way,” he finally said. And they got up and filed after him. He - led them a short fifty yards, and paused. They stood on the edge of a - clearing. A few rods away they saw a story-and-a-half farm-house, with a - light in the kitchen window. Farther off loomed the outline of a large - barn. They stumbled on, and found midway between the two buildings a well - with a bucket worked by a crank and chain. - </p> - <p> - They could not speak; they looked at one another and grinned foolishly. - Then Beveridge reached for the crank, but Dick caught his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on there, Bill,” he said fervently, drawing a small flask from his - hip pocket, “you wouldn't spoil a thirst like this with water?” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say that you've had this in your clothes all along?” - said Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I thought from the way things were going we might need it more - to-morrow than to-day.” - </p> - <p> - There was a general smacking of lips as the flask went around. Then they - paused and looked at the house. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” observed Beveridge, “I'm not sure that I want to be told where we - are—but here goes!” And he walked slowly toward the kitchen door, - sweeping his eyes about the farmyard and taking in all that could be seen - in the darkness. At his knock there was a noise in the kitchen,—the - sound of a chair scraping,—and the door was opened a very little - way. - </p> - <p> - “How are you?” began the special agent. - </p> - <p> - The farmer, for it was he who blocked the doorway, merely looked - suspiciously out. - </p> - <p> - “We're a camping party, Mr.—Mr.—” - </p> - <p> - “Lindquist's my name.” His voice was thin and peevish, a fit voice for - such a thin, small man. - </p> - <p> - “—Mr. Lindquist, and we seem to have lost our way. Can you take us - in and give us a little something to eat?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I don't know's I could. How many is there of you?” - </p> - <p> - “Four.” - </p> - <p> - “You say you're campers?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what we are.” - </p> - <p> - “Is your tent near by?” - </p> - <p> - “Blest if we know. If we did, we shouldn't be here.” - </p> - <p> - It was plain to the three of them, standing back in the dark, that - Beveridge, for reasons of his own, was moving very cautiously, and equally - plain that the little man had some reason for being cautious too. It was - hard to think that any honest farmer, living so lonely a life, would be so - downright inhospitable. - </p> - <p> - “And you say you want something to - </p> - <p> - “Well, now,”—there was no trace of impatience in the special agent's - voice,—“that's just as you like. We don't want to impose on you; and - of course we're more than willing to pay for what we get.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I dunno. I s'pose you might come in. Maybe we've got a little bread - and milk.” - </p> - <p> - The kitchen was not a large room. The floor was bare, as were the walls, - saving a few county-fair advertisements in the form of colored - lithographs. A thin, colorless, dulleyed little woman was seated beside a - pine table, sewing by the light of a kerosene lamp. The third member of - the family, a boy of fourteen, did not appear until a moment later. When - the sound of the opening door reached his ears, he was lying flat on his - bed, chin propped on hands, feverishly boring through a small volume in a - flashy paper binding. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge, as they all found seats, was taking in the farmer, noting his - shifting eyes, and his clothes, which were nothing more than a suit of - torn overalls. - </p> - <p> - “Diana,” said Lindquist, “you might give these young men some bread and - milk.” - </p> - <p> - His wife laid aside her sewing without a word, and went to the pantry. - </p> - <p> - “Now,” began Beveridge, “I suppose we ought to find out where we are.” - </p> - <p> - “What's that?” - </p> - <p> - “Where are we, Mr. Lindquist? What's the nearest town?” - </p> - <p> - “The nearest town, you said?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Ramsey, I guess, or—” - </p> - <p> - “Or—what?” - </p> - <p> - “Or—Spencer's place.” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I was afraid of.” Beveridge turned to his companions, adding, - “You see, we've got back near the lake.” - </p> - <p> - At the sound of strange voices, the boy came down the stairs and stood in - a corner, gazing at the strangers, and holding his book behind him. - </p> - <p> - “How far off is the Lake, Mr. Lindquist?” - </p> - <p> - “How—what's that you say?” - </p> - <p> - “How far off is the Lake?” - </p> - <p> - “What Lake?” - </p> - <p> - “Lake Huron, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “Lake Huron?—Oh, twenty,—twenty-two mile.” - </p> - <p> - “That's another story!” exclaimed Wilson. But Beveridge, evidently fearing - his assistant's tongue, gave him a look that quieted him. The faces of the - four travellers all showed relief. - </p> - <p> - The bread and milk were ready now, and they fell to, joking and laughing - as heartily as if their only care had been a camp outfit somewhere in the - woods; but all the time the three were watching Beveridge, awaiting his - next move. It came, finally, when the last crumb of bread had disappeared - and the plates had been pushed back. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mr. Lindquist,” said Beveridge, “it's getting on pretty late in the - evening, and we're tired. Can't you put us up for the night? Not in the - house—I'd hardly ask that—but out in the barn, say?” As he - spoke he laid a two-dollar bill on the table and pushed it over close to - the farmer's hand. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I dunno.” For a moment the bill lay there between their two hands, - then Lindquist's nervous fingers slowly closed over it. “I suppose you - could sleep out there.” - </p> - <p> - “That's first-rate. We 'll go right out if you don't mind. You needn't - bother about coming. Just let your boy there bring a lantern and show us - where to go.” - </p> - <p> - Lindquist did not take to this. “Axel,” he said, “you go up to bed. Mind, - now!” Then he lighted the lantern and led the way to the barn. When he had - left them, tumbled about on the fragrant hay, Smiley spoke up. “Well, - Beveridge, what next?” - </p> - <p> - “Didn't he lock the door just then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said Harper, “I'm sure I heard it. I 'll go and see.” - </p> - <p> - Slowly he descended, and felt his way across the floor, returning with the - report that the door was fast. - </p> - <p> - “Now, boys, I 'll tell you,” said Beveridge. “We 'll take a little rest. - It's all right as long as one of us is awake. Before the night's over - we've got to get hold of that boy, but we won't make a disturbance yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” cried Dick, a flood of light breaking in on his understanding, “it's - the boy you're after.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's the boy, of course. I've had to sit down a good many times in - my life and thank the Lord for my luck, but this beats it all.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you sure, though, that they went through here?” - </p> - <p> - “Am I sure? Could you look at the old man and ask me that? What I'd like - to know is how far off they are just now.” - </p> - <p> - “Lindquist doesn't look as if he'd tell.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no; <i>he</i> won't tell.” - </p> - <p> - “Would it do any good to make him?” - </p> - <p> - “Put on a little pressure, you mean?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't think so. He'd lie to me, and we wouldn't have any way of knowing - the difference. The boy is our game.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not get him now? We could break out of here easy enough.” - </p> - <p> - “No, Smiley, you're a little off the track there. He must tell us on the - sly. Don't you see, he's a good deal more afraid of his father than he is - of us. If we aren't careful, we 'll have him lying too.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you thought of the old lady?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but I'm doubtful there. She is afraid of him too. It's more than - likely that she was kept pretty much out of the way. Anyhow, her ideas - would be confused.” - </p> - <p> - “But sitting up here in the haymow isn't going to bring us any nearer to - the boy.” - </p> - <p> - “Isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see how.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you notice the book he was reading?” - </p> - <p> - “No, what book? I didn't see any book.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess maybe you were right, Smiley, about your eyes being trained for - sea work. Now, I 'll tell you what. This little rest may be the only one - we're entitled to for a day or so, and I wish you fellows would curl right - up and go to sleep. I'm going to stay awake for a while. Harper, over - there, is the only sensible one in the lot. He's been asleep for ten - minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “No, he ain't,” drawled a sleepy voice. - </p> - <p> - “I can't get comfortable,” growled Wilson. “How is a man going to sleep - with this hay sticking into your ears and tickling you?” - </p> - <p> - “Next time I take you out, Bert,” said Beveridge, “I 'll bring along a - pneumatic mattress and a portable bath-tub and a Pullman nigger to carry - your things.” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right, Bill. Wait till you try it yourself. There are spiders - in the hay, millions of 'em,—and if there's anything I hate, it's - spiders.” - </p> - <p> - “Here,” said Harper, “take some o' my pillow. I ain't having no - difficulty.” He threw over a roll of cloth, which Wilson, after some - feeling about, found. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Harper, this isn't your coat?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it's part of a bundle of rags I found here.” - </p> - <p> - “What's that!” Beveridge exclaimed. “A bundle of rags?” - </p> - <p> - “Feels like part of an old dress,” said Wilson. - </p> - <p> - “Give it here, Bert. I 'll take what you've got too, Harper.” With the - cloth under his arm Beveridge found the ladder and made his way to the - floor below. Then he lighted a match. - </p> - <p> - The others crawled to the edge of the mow and looked down into the - cavernous, dimly lighted space. - </p> - <p> - “Look out you don't set us afire, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “Come down here, Smiley, and see what you make of this.” - </p> - <p> - It was not necessary to summon Dick twice. He swung off, hung an instant - by his hands, dropped to the floor, and bent with the special agent over - what seemed to be the waist and skirt of a gingham dress. The examination - grew so interesting that Harper and Wilson came down the ladder and peered - over Dick's shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “You see,” said Beveridge,—“here, wait till I light another match. - Take this box, Bert, will you, and keep the light going? You see, it isn't - an old dress at all. It's rather new, in fact. Mrs. Lindquist would never - have thrown it away—never in the world. Now what in the devil—what's - that, Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't say anything. I was just thinking—” - </p> - <p> - “Well—what?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know that I could swear to it, but—you see, you can't tell - the color very well in this light.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0287.jpg" alt="0287 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0287.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Oh, it's blue, plain enough.” - </p> - <p> - “You're sure?” - </p> - <p> - “Perfectly.” - </p> - <p> - “Looks nearer green to me. But if it's blue, I've seen it before.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “The day I was at Spencer's. There was a girl there, the old man's - sister-in-law, and she wore this dress.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you perfectly sure, Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—dresses aren't in my line, but—yes, I'm sure. I noticed - it because her eyes were blue too—and there was this white figure in - it. Her name is Estelle. She waited on table, and—” - </p> - <p> - “Go on—don't stop.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait up,” said Wilson. “If you've got it identified, I'm going to quit - burning up these matches. There are only about half a dozen left.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. Put it out.” And they talked on in the dark, seated, Dick and - Beveridge on the tongue of a hay-wagon, Wilson on an inverted bucket, - Harper on the floor. - </p> - <p> - “Why, she waited on table; and then McGlory disappeared and I had to go - after him, and I found him talking to her—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on!” Beveridge broke in. “You say you found her and McGlory - together?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I guess we're thinking of the same thing. From the way they both - acted, I rather guess it's an understood thing. It wasn't as if he had met - her there by chance, not a bit of it. And I've been thinking since, it - seems more than likely that she would go wherever he went.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right!” Beveridge exclaimed. “I'm sure of it. I know a little - something about it myself.” - </p> - <p> - “You do?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. This McGlory has left a wife behind him in Chicago.” - </p> - <p> - “Madge, you mean?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. The main reason he took up the offer to go out with you, Smiley, was - so he could get up here and see this—what's her name?—Estelle.” - </p> - <p> - “So there is more than a fighting chance that where she is you 'll find - him.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “And that means that he has been here to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Right again.” - </p> - <p> - “Then who sailed the schooner for Canada?” - </p> - <p> - Harper, leaning forward in the dark and straining to catch every syllable - of the low-pitched conversation, here gave a low gasp of sheer excitement. - There had been moments—hours, even—during the day when the - object of this desperate chase had seemed a far-off, imaginary thing - beside the real discomforts of the tramp through the pines. But now, in - this sombre place, they were plunged into the mystery of the flight, and - he had been the unwitting means of deepening the mystery. - </p> - <p> - “That sort of mixes us up, Beveridge,” said Smiley. - </p> - <p> - “Never mind.” Beveridge's voice was exultant. “We're hot on the trail now. - This taking to the woods is about the neatest thing I ever did.” - </p> - <p> - “You're right there, Bill,” Wilson chimed in. - </p> - <p> - Until now Dick had supposed that the land chase had been entirely his own - notion, but he said nothing. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Bill,”—it was Wilson breaking the silence,—“there - isn't any use of our trying to sleep to-night. Let's break out and run - this thing down.” - </p> - <p> - “How are you going to know your way in the middle of the night?” - </p> - <p> - “Make 'em show us.” - </p> - <p> - “Suppose you can't make them?” - </p> - <p> - “I know—you're still thinking about that boy. But we are no nearer - him than we were an hour ago.” - </p> - <p> - “Listen a minute!” - </p> - <p> - They sat motionless. There was no sound; nothing but the heavy stillness - of the night. - </p> - <p> - Wilson whispered, “Think you heard something?” - </p> - <p> - “S-sh!” - </p> - <p> - A key turned softly in the lock. Then the door opened a little way, and - against the sky they could see a head. Wilson drew his revolver. Beveridge - heard the hammer click, and said quietly, “Don't be a fool, Bert. Put that - thing back in your pocket.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you's in there?” came a voice from the door. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Come along.” - </p> - <p> - The door opened wider to admit the owner of the voice, then closed. A - moment later a lantern was lighted and held up before the grinning, - excited face of the farmer's son. - </p> - <p> - “Come on, Alex. What do you want?” - </p> - <p> - The boy slowly approached until he stood before them; then he set the - lantern on the floor, where it cast long shadows. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, my boy?” - </p> - <p> - Axel looked knowingly at them. “Say,” he whispered, “I know what you's - are. You're detectives.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, we are, are we? What makes you think that?” - </p> - <p> - “You're detectives. I know.” - </p> - <p> - “Sit down, and talk it over. Do you smoke?” - </p> - <p> - “Can I smoke? Well, I should say I can. You just watch me.” He accepted a - cigar, his first, and lighted it. “Don't let on to Pa, will you? He'd give - me—” Unable to call up a strong enough word, the boy concluded with - a grin. - </p> - <p> - “That's all right. We know how it is ourselves. Your father has enough to - worry him just about now, anyhow. Didn't he have but the one suit of - clothes?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, there was his old everyday suit, but that got tore so bad Ma said - she couldn't mend it, and there wasn't only his Sunday suit and his work - clothes left.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean that he had to fight with those fellows?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no,—that was a long time ago. Say, this cigar is the real - thing.” - </p> - <p> - “It ought to be good. It's a fifteen-cent-straight.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>You</i> don't say so!” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll tell you one thing, Alex.” - </p> - <p> - “My name's Axel.” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll tell you one thing. Your father has made a bad mistake in allowing - himself to get mixed up with these people. He is with the wrong crowd. I'm - the only one that could help him out.” - </p> - <p> - The boy began to be frightened. “Oh, he ain't mixed up in it!” - </p> - <p> - “He isn't?” - </p> - <p> - “No. He never seen 'em before.” - </p> - <p> - “What does he want to act this way for, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you see—” - </p> - <p> - “Now look here, my boy. The sooner we understand each other, the better. - Your father has got himself into a dangerous situation. He can't deceive - me. I know all about it. Does he think he could keep me in here any longer - than I want to stay by locking the door? I'm half minded to arrest him for - this. He can't do that sort o' thing to me!” - </p> - <p> - Axel was downright frightened now. He held his cigar so long that it went - out. Wilson struck a match, and lighted it for him. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose you would like me to believe that he was forced to give up his - clothes?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he was! The fellow with the black hair—” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory?” - </p> - <p> - “Seems to me they called him Joe.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the same man. Go on.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, he pulled a gun, and marched Pa out here to the barn. Ma ran - upstairs crying. And the lady, she was crying, too. And the dark fellow, - he made the lady climb up where you was, on the hay—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know,” Beveridge interrupted, indicating the dress. - </p> - <p> - “And then he held the gun while Pa took off his Sunday suit that he'd put - on because he thought they was going to be visitors, and he threw it up to - the lady, and she put it on. One of the suspenders was busted, and she - didn't know how it worked, and she cried, and then Pa had to holler up how - he'd fixed it with a string and you twisted the string around twice and - then tied it. And then the dark fellow, he made me run in and get Pa his - overhauls.” - </p> - <p> - “So they changed clothes right here, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and the lady cried, and when she'd got all dressed in Pa's clothes, - why, she just said she wouldn't come down. And Joe, he said she would, or - he'd know the reason why. Then the others laughed some—” - </p> - <p> - “<i>The others!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and they—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on! How many were there in this party?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, three or four, counting in the lady.” - </p> - <p> - “Three or four! Don't you know?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you see, I didn't think about counting 'em then. What was I - saying?” - </p> - <p> - “You said the others laughed.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. Not very much, you know,—just a little. Then the boss, he - said—” - </p> - <p> - “What sort of a looking man was this boss?” - </p> - <p> - “I dunno.” - </p> - <p> - “Didn't you see him?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, I—” - </p> - <p> - “What was it he said this time?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,—he said something to Joe about not getting excited. I guess he - thought he was kind o' mean to the lady. Anyhow, she come down after a - little and kind o' stood around behind things. She was frightened some, I - guess. And then they all went off.” - </p> - <p> - “Which way?” - </p> - <p> - “I dunno. They told us we hadn't better watch 'em, and so I thought maybe - I wouldn't.” - </p> - <p> - “Was that the last you saw of them?” - </p> - <p> - “Well—not quite.” - </p> - <p> - “Not quite! What else?” - </p> - <p> - “Before they'd gone very far, the boss came back.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he did?” - </p> - <p> - “And he told Pa he guessed Joe was a little excited, and they hadn't meant - to be hard on him. And so he gave Pa a little money for his trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought you said your father wasn't mixed up with them.” - </p> - <p> - “He ain't. Not a bit.” - </p> - <p> - “But you say he took their money?” - </p> - <p> - “What else could he do? They ain't the sort o' men you'd want to argue - with.” - </p> - <p> - “There is something in that. But why did he try to lock us in here?” - </p> - <p> - “I dunno.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you don't.” - </p> - <p> - “No, but—I 'll tell you. Pa's rattled.” - </p> - <p> - “I shouldn't wonder.” - </p> - <p> - “He come up to my room just after he'd been out here with you, and says if - I ever said a word about it, it would land the whole family in state's - prison. That ain't so, is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'm not prepared to say.” - </p> - <p> - The cigar was out again. “Oh, say, now, it wasn't his fault. He didn't do - nothing but what they made him do.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, the fact that he helped them under compulsion might be - considered in a court of law, but I'm not prepared to say that it mightn't - go hard with you all. I 'll do what I can to get you out of it, but it's a - bad scrape. What direction is Hewittson from here?” - </p> - <p> - “Off that way. There's a road 'most all the way.” - </p> - <p> - “That's first-rate. I want you to go with us.” - </p> - <p> - “When?” - </p> - <p> - “Now.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Pa—he wouldn't let me—” - </p> - <p> - “But I tell you to come.” - </p> - <p> - “Would it help us any in getting off?” - </p> - <p> - “I might be able to make it easier if you really give me valuable - assistance.” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll have to get away pretty quiet.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well.” Beveridge was rolling up the blue dress into a small bundle. - “All ready, Bert—Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - “All right here.” - </p> - <p> - “Put out your light, Axel.” - </p> - <p> - They stepped cautiously outside, and the boy locked the door behind them. - “Hold on,” he whispered; “don't go around that way. Pa ain't asleep, never - in the world!” - </p> - <p> - “Which way shall we go?” - </p> - <p> - “Here—after me—through the cow-yard.” They slipped around - behind the barn, made a short detour through the edge of the forest, and - reached the road beyond the house. - </p> - <p> - “Does this road run both ways, Axel?” Beveridge asked. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, from Hewittson to Ramsey.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you hear that, Smiley? We must have been within a few hundred yards of - it most of the way.” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind, we 'll make better time now, anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - They pushed on, indeed, rapidly for half a mile, guided by the lantern, - which Axel had relighted. Then the boy, overcome by the tobacco, had to be - left, miserably sick, in a heap by the roadside. Beveridge snatched the - lantern from his heedless fingers, thrust a bill into his pocket by way of - payment, and the party pushed on. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI—THURSDAY NIGHT—VAN DEELEN'S BRIDGE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0302.jpg" alt="0302 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0302.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE stars were - shining down on the stream that passed sluggishly under Van Deelen's - bridge, but they found no answering twinkle there. A gloomy stream it was, - winding a sort of way through the little farm, coming from—somewhere, - off in the pines; going to—somewhere, off in the pines; brown by - day, black by night; the only silent thing in the breathing, crackling - forest. It seemed to come from the north, gliding out from under the - green-black canopy with a little stumble of white foam, as if ashamed in - the light of the clearing. Then, sullen as ever, it settled back, slipped - under the bridge—where the road from Lindquist's swung sharply down—with - never a swirl, and gave itself up to the pines and hemlocks that bent - over. Behind the barn-yard it circled westward, and paralleled the road - for a few hundred yards, as if it, too, were bound for Hewittson; but - changed its mind, turned sharply south, and was gone. Whither? The - muskrats and minks perhaps could tell. - </p> - <p> - The clearing, in spite of the house and barn, was desolate; the pines were - pressing irresistibly in on every side to claim the land Dirck van Deelen - had stolen from them. The road, after crossing the bridge, lost itself in - the confused tracks between house and barn, only to reappear on the - farther side and plunge again into the forest,—a weary, yellow road, - telling of miles of stump land as well as of the fresher forest. - </p> - <p> - It was late, very late, but there was a light in the house. A woman, in - man's clothing, lay on the parlor sofa, too tired to rest. She was white; - her breath came hard; her eyes were too bright. McGlory stood over her - with a pair of scissors in his hand. He had cut off her long hair, and now - it lay curling on the floor. - </p> - <p> - “Here, you,”—he was speaking to Van Deelen,—“get a broom and - take that up. Be quick about it. What are you gawking at?” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen, slow of movement and slower of thought, obeyed. - </p> - <p> - “Now,” said McGlory to the woman, “come along!” And he took her arm. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, Joe! I can't go! It will kill me!” - </p> - <p> - “Cut that—get up!” - </p> - <p> - Roche, who had been eating in the next room, came in, looked at them, and - then hurried out, where the leader of the party awaited him. - </p> - <p> - “Aren't they 'most ready?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—coming right along—if it don't kill her.” - </p> - <p> - But when they heard a step and turned, only the woman appeared in the - doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Where's Joe, Estelle?” - </p> - <p> - “He—he's coming.” She staggered. Roche caught her, helped her down - the steps, and with his arm about her waist led her out to the road. “He - says to go along, and he 'll catch us.” She was plucky, or frightened, for - she staggered along biting her lip. - </p> - <p> - This was what McGlory had said to Van Deelen after he had got her to the - door: “Give me some paper and a pen—quick!” - </p> - <p> - They were promptly placed on the diningroom table; and he scrawled off a - few lines, folded the paper, and looked up with a scowl. The strain of the - week had not improved his expression. “Give me an envelope; I want you to - mail this for me.” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't got one.” - </p> - <p> - “The———you haven't!” - </p> - <p> - “Honest—that's the truth. I'd have to go to Hewittson, anyway. It - 'll be quicker for you to take—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, shut up. I'm sick o' your voice. Here, take this.” He thrust the - letter into his pocket and counted out twenty-five dollars in bills. “This - is for you. And mind, nothing said. You don't know us—never seen - four men coming through here in the night. Don't remember ever having seen - four men come through. Understand?” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen drew back a step, and nodded. “No mistake about this now. If - you say a word, the world ain't big enough to hide you.” His hand was - straying toward a significant pocket. “None of your hemmings and haw-ings—if - you're in a hurry to get to heaven, just give us away. Understand?” - </p> - <p> - Another nod,—all the farmer was capable of; and McGlory was gone - with a bound, out the door, on toward the little group at the farther side - of the clearing. - </p> - <p> - They heard his step and his loud breathing. “What's this?” He had just - made out Roche's arm across Estelle's back. “What's <i>this?</i>” He tore - the arm away, whirled Roche around, and slapped his face so hard that he—— - </p> - <p> - “By———!” gasped Roche. “By———!” - </p> - <p> - They glared at each other; Estelle sobbed. “Try that again, Joe McGlory! - Just try it! Hit me again! Why, you—why, I 'll break your neck!” - </p> - <p> - “<i>You</i> will?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I will. Just hit me again!” - </p> - <p> - McGlory looked him over, decided to accept the invitation, and plunged - forward. Roche, without a moment's hesitation, turned and bolted up the - road,—ran as if the fiends were on his heels. McGlory finally - stopped, laughed viciously, and hurled a curse after him. - </p> - <p> - The third man let them go; he merely took Estelle's arm and helped her - along, soothing her a little, trying to calm the outburst of hysteria that - had been threatening for twenty-four hours. McGlory waited for them in the - shadow of the woods; and a little farther on Roche fell in behind, - muttering softly, and keeping well away from McGlory. - </p> - <p> - Estelle could hardly stagger along. McGlory passed his arm through hers - and dragged her forward. Now she was silent, now she stifled a sob, now - she begged piteously to be left behind. “Let me go back to Van Deelen's, - Joe—please! I can't go on.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought you was such a walker.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, but—not so far as this. Let me go back there.” - </p> - <p> - “Wouldn't that be smart, now! To leave you where you could blab the whole - thing!” She tried to walk a few steps farther; then she broke away, - stumbled to the roadside, and, sinking to the ground, covered her face - with her hands. - </p> - <p> - Roche stopped short and stared at her. The other spoke up: “This won't do, - Joe. There's no use killing her. We 'll drop back in the woods and take a - rest. We 'll all be better for it.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory sullenly consented. He dragged Estelle off through the undergrowth - to the clearer ground under the trees, and they all stretched out. In five - minutes Roche was the only one awake of the three men. Without raising his - head he slipped over close to Estelle and rested his hand on her shoulder. - She rolled over with a start. “S-sh! Not so loud, Estelle.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. You didn't think I'd forgot, did you, Estelle?” - </p> - <p> - “I—I don't understand.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you think it's time to quit 'em? What's the use? I guess you know - him now for what he is.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he's mean to me. But—” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you see—we can skip out and leave 'em here, and go back near - the house and hide. He wouldn't dast come back after us. The boss wouldn't - never let him.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think we could? I'm afraid. He wouldn't stop at anything.” - </p> - <p> - “You just leave it to me. I can take care o' <i>him:</i>” - </p> - <p> - “I—I'm afraid. He's so determined. And I told him I'd go with him.” - </p> - <p> - “What was he a-doin' back there in the house after he sent you out?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know.” - </p> - <p> - “Not so loud—whisper. Didn't you hear him say anything?” - </p> - <p> - “He asked for a pen and paper.” - </p> - <p> - “Must 'a' wrote a letter. There it is—look there—sticking out - of his pocket. Wait a minute.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you try to take it. He 'll shoot you.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, damn him! I ain't afraid of two Joe McGlorys. Lemme go.” He crept - over, drew out the letter skilfully, and returned. “I don't like to strike - a match here—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, no—don't!” - </p> - <p> - “Can you crawl off a little ways—behind them bushes?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess so; I 'll try.” He helped her. “S-sh—careful.” - </p> - <p> - Behind the bushes they felt safer. Roche lighted a match and held up the - paper. This is what they read:— - </p> - <p> - “Dear Madge: There's a little misunderstanding up this way and I can't get - back for a little while I want some money you put the bills in a envelope - to generel dilivry South Bend Indiana. Don't you try to come to me because - it ain't a very pleasent situation I 'll tell you later where to come - don't forget the money and don't you put my name on it call me Joe Murphy. - Burn this soon as you read it. - </p> - <h3> - “J.” - </h3> - <p> - Neither saw the insolent brutality of this letter; their thoughts were - elsewhere. Estelle gazed, thunderstruck. Roche held the match until it - burned his finger. As he dropped it and the paper to the ground, and the - dark closed in again, one of the sleepers tossed and mumbled. Estelle - caught his arm. - </p> - <p> - “He told me it wasn't so,” she whispered. “He told me it wasn't so.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he's just a common, everyday liar. Madge is his wife. Didn't I tell - you so the first day I come to Spencer's?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. What can we do? Do you think we could get away?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure thing.” - </p> - <p> - “But how?” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll sneak back a ways and off to one side in the woods. He can't come - back and search the whole county for us. Don't you see?” - </p> - <p> - “But wouldn't <i>they</i> catch us?” She glanced toward the east, whence - pursuit might come. - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit of it. Just trust me. Come on—now's the time. Move - cautious till we get on the road.” - </p> - <p> - He helped her up, and they stole away. For a few moments she was buoyed up - by this new excitement, but soon fell back into the old weariness. She - clung to Roche until he was almost carrying her. “Keep a-going,” he - whispered. “I 'll skip back to the house and pick up something to eat, and - then we 'll take to the woods. They can't never catch me, I tell you. <i>I - 'll</i> fool 'em.” - </p> - <p> - They struggled along. Halfway back to the farm-house Estelle completely - lost heart. “I can't do it!” she moaned. “Stop—let me sit down.” - </p> - <p> - “Not here, Estelle! Not in the road!” - </p> - <p> - “Let me down, I tell you!” - </p> - <p> - “But he may be along any minute.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care. Let me down.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Estelle, can't you see how it is? If he gets you, he 'll half - kill you. And you 'll have to walk farther with him than you would with - me.” - </p> - <p> - She was beyond reason. She clung around his neck, holding herself up even - while she begged to be let down. Her condition and the terrible loneliness - of the night were unnerving Roche. “Come along,” he said angrily, “or I - 'll make you come!” - </p> - <p> - “Don't hurt me!” - </p> - <p> - “By———! Don't you say another word!” - </p> - <p> - He jerked her roughly forward, while his wild eyes sought the road behind. - </p> - <p> - “You said you'd be good to me!” - </p> - <p> - “Well, ain't I good to you? Ain't I saving your life, and you haven't got - the sense to see it?” - </p> - <p> - “O dear! Don't—” - </p> - <p> - “Keep still, now—come on—Don't you say any more.” - </p> - <p> - Soon they reached the clearing, and, pausing for breath in the shadows, - they looked about. The night was far advanced, but a light showed in an - upper window of the house. Over in the barn a horse was thrashing about - his stall; the noise was deafening after the stillness. Roche released - Estelle, and to his horror she sank to the ground in a faint. He spoke to - her—she did not hear. He bent over and shook her, felt her wrist and - her forehead. Then he straightened up and looked back along the road. His - breath came fast and hard; the loneliness was closing in on his soul. He - shivered, though the air was not cold, then stepped back, mopped the - sudden sweat from his face, looked down again at the woman,—even - stirred her with his foot,—then turned and ran. Not down the road, - for the lowbrowed McGlory lay sleeping there; not to the south, for the - stream barred the way; but skirting the clearing to the northern edge and - then plunging into the woods, endlong and overthwart, with a thousand ugly - fancies hounding him, with a traitor in his bosom that opened the door for - the mad thoughts freely to enter and gnaw there. He tripped on a log, - pitched headlong and rolled over, scrambled up with bleeding hands, and - ran on in an ecstasy of fear. And the vast black forest shut in behind him - and swallowed him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0315.jpg" alt="0315 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0315.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - When Estelle's eyes opened, she returned from peace to wretchedness. Yes, - the trees and the night and the swollen feet were real. She crawled toward - the farm-house; something within her warned her not to try to rise. She - lived months in dragging that hundred yards; the one goal of life was the - low stoop and the door under the light. When she reached it,—her - clothes torn, the dust ground into her face and hands,—she fainted - again, and clung to the steps. - </p> - <p> - Dirck van Deelen was sitting at the window with a shot-gun across his - knees. He had watched the—he could not see what it was—crawling - to his door. Now he looked out and saw it lying there. Whatever, whoever - it was, this would not do; so he opened the door and carried her up to the - room where his frightened wife was trying to sleep. - </p> - <p> - “We 'll have to take her in, Saskia.” - </p> - <p> - “What is the matter? Is she hurt?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. I found her on the stoop. Help me examine her.” - </p> - <p> - But they found no mark of bullet, knife, or blunt instrument. And while - the Dutch woman worked over her, the man went for water. At last she was - brought to a sort of consciousness, and, leaving his wife to care for her, - Van Deelen returned to his window and his gun. - </p> - <p> - Roche and Estelle had not been gone an hour when McGlory, haunted by the - fear of pursuit, awoke. He stretched himself, sat up, and looked over to - the spot where Estelle had been lying when he fell asleep. At first he - thought he saw her, a darker shadow, but on rising and walking over he - found no sign of her. He looked about, and called. Roche, too, was not in - sight. He hesitated, not yet fully awake, then turned back and woke his - companion. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what's the matter?” - </p> - <p> - “They're gone.” - </p> - <p> - “Who's gone?” - </p> - <p> - “Roche and Estelle.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know? Have you looked around?” - </p> - <p> - “Come over here.” - </p> - <p> - They prowled behind the trees, parted the bushes here and there, called as - loud as they dared, lighted matches, and examined the ground. Finally - McGlory broke out with an oath: “The little fool! So she thinks she can - serve me this way, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “You think they've skipped out?” - </p> - <p> - “Think? Do I think it? What do I want to <i>think</i> for? Didn't I see - him a-hugging her?” - </p> - <p> - “He was just helping her then.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, just helping her, was he?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what you going to do about it?” - </p> - <p> - “What'm I going to do?” McGlory was lashing his anger. His voice swelled - until he was roaring out the words: “What'm I going to do? I'm going to - run that Pete Roche down if I have to go to hell for him! I'm going to—-” - </p> - <p> - “Drop your voice, Joe. I can hear you. How're you going to find him?” - </p> - <p> - “Who you telling to shut up?” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, now. None o' that talk to me!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you think you can boss me, do you?” - </p> - <p> - “Think? I know it. Don't waste your breath trying to bluff me. I asked you - how you're going to find him.” - </p> - <p> - “How'm I going to—how'm I—why, I 'll break his head—I - 'll—” - </p> - <p> - “Don't work yourself up. It won't help you any.” - </p> - <p> - “You think you can talk like that to me? If you ain't careful, I 'll break - <i>your</i> head. I 'll—” - </p> - <p> - “How are you going to find him?” - </p> - <p> - “You say another word, and I 'll knock your teeth down your throat.” - </p> - <p> - “I've got my hand in my pocket, Joe, and I've got a loaded gun in my hand, - and if you threaten me again, I 'll blow a hole through you. I've half a - mind to do it anyway. A fool like you has no business getting into a - scrape if he can't keep his head. I'd a heap rather kill you than get - caught through your fool noise. The sooner you understand me, the better - for you. Now tell me how you're going to find out which way to take.” - </p> - <p> - “How—” McGlory was not a coward, but he could not face down the - seasoned courage of the man before him. “Why—that's a cinch. Ain't - he headed the same way we are?” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Joe, hold on. Don't be a bigger fool than you can help. You don't - really think he'd take her right along over this road, do you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—dam' it!” - </p> - <p> - “It's no good talking to you if you can't quiet down. You want to kill - Roche, and you're right. I want him killed, too. The longer he's alive, - the more danger for us. But if you go at him this way, he may kill you.” - </p> - <p> - “Him! Kill me! Why—” - </p> - <p> - “I mean it. He's desperate, too. You can't be too sure that he 'll always - run like he did to-night. He's got Estelle to look out for, too. Now, it's - plain that he hasn't gone down the road, because, look here,—she - isn't good for more than a mile an hour, and he'd have sense enough to - know we'd catch him.” - </p> - <p> - “Where is he gone, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Not very far—we know that much. Likely they're back here in the - woods. Or maybe they went back to Van Deelen's.” - </p> - <p> - “They'd never go there.” - </p> - <p> - “They might have to. I guess you don't know much about women, Joe.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon I know more 'n's good for me.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you ought to see she's pretty near done for.” - </p> - <p> - “Estelle? She's bluffing.” - </p> - <p> - “No, she isn't. Not a bit of it. When a woman's worked up and tired out at - the same time, something's likely to break. You were a fool to bring her, - anyhow. I don't know why I let you.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>You! You</i> let me!” - </p> - <p> - “You said so much about her being strong. Why, she's a child.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, you've said some things tonight that I don't like.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, have I? But this isn't getting us along any. The first thing is to - look around here a little more. There are any number of ways they might - have taken without going down the road.” - </p> - <p> - Even McGlory could see the reason in this suggestion. They lighted matches - and prowled about, peering behind trees and bushes, looking for broken or - bent twigs, for any indication of the passage of a human being. But the - heavy growth of trees shut out what light there was overhead, and neither - was skilful enough to direct his search well. - </p> - <p> - “Find anything, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a thing. When it comes to sneaking off, Roche has head enough. It's - the only thing he's good for.” - </p> - <p> - “The more I think of it, Joe, the more I believe they've gone to the - house.” - </p> - <p> - “You're off there.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I'm not. Listen a minute. Supposing they started off in the woods and - tried to dodge the house. Pretty soon Estelle gives out—surer than - New Year's. And it would be pretty soon, too, because the excitement - wouldn't keep her up long. Now what is Roche going to do? He isn't the man - to face out a bad situation like that—never in this world. He'd do - one of two things—he would skip out and leave her, or he would get - her to the house. If he skipped, there isn't one chance in a thousand of - our finding either of them. If he took her to the house, we can get one or - both. We can't stay around here much longer. We'd better try the house, - and if they aren't there, or anywhere about the place, we 'll go on toward - Hewittson.” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll have to go without me, then.” - </p> - <p> - “You think so?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't leave this place till I see Roche curled up stiff.” This was said - as quietly as McGlory could say anything, but it was convincing. The other - looked keenly at him. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly McGlory, feeling in his pockets, muttered a curse and started - back toward the spot where they had slept. - </p> - <p> - “What's up? Lost something?” - </p> - <p> - “None of your business!” McGlory was searching the ground feverishly. - </p> - <p> - “If you told me what it was, maybe I could help you.” - </p> - <p> - No answer. McGlory's temper was rising again. Finding nothing where he had - lain, he began thrashing about the bushes. - </p> - <p> - “Unless it's something important, Joe, you're wasting a lot of time.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, say—you—you ain't seen a paper—or anything, have - you?” - </p> - <p> - “A letter?” - </p> - <p> - “Not exactly. It wasn't in an envelope.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you mean this, maybe.” With a lighted match in one hand, he drew a - folded paper from his pocket and started to open it. McGlory sprang - forward, recognized it, and tried to snatch it away. - </p> - <p> - “It ain't necessary to read that. It's private business.” - </p> - <p> - “I have read it.” - </p> - <p> - “You have read it! You've been prying into my affairs, have you?” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. I found this on the ground and read it. You must have written - it back there when you kept us waiting. You had no business to do it. I - never saw such a fool as you are.” As he spoke, he touched the match to - the paper. - </p> - <p> - “Here, quit that! Don't you burn that letter!” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Joe, you didn't think for a minute I'd let you send this, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “What right you got—” - </p> - <p> - “The right of self-preservation. We can't do any letter writing yet - awhile. I 'll help you out with money, but I won't let you do this sort of - thing. Let's start back.” He led the way to the road, McGlory sullenly - following; and side by side they stepped out for the farmhouse. “Beastly - sort of a thing to do, Joe,—ask Madge for money to help you run off - with this woman.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'd like to know—Ain't she had enough from me—” - </p> - <p> - “I don't doubt she has stood a good deal from you. What sort of a woman is - she, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Madge? Oh, she's all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Pretty fond of you, isn't she?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess there ain't much doubt about that.” - </p> - <p> - “I've noticed her a little.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you have, have you?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly. What else can you expect, skylarking around this way?” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right. A man's got to have his fling. But when it comes to—” - </p> - <p> - “Madge is a fine-looking woman. I don't believe you know how pretty she - is, Joe. If you got her decent clothes, and took her out to the theatre - now and then, so she could keep her spirits up, she would be hard to - beat.” - </p> - <p> - This was a new idea to McGlory. But what he said was, “Seems to me you've - done a lot of thinking about my wife.” - </p> - <p> - “It's your own fault. But look here, do you think such an awful lot of - Estelle?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. I've had some fun with her. Of course, she ain't the woman that - Madge is.” - </p> - <p> - “I was wondering a little—” McGlory's companion paused. - </p> - <p> - “What was you wondering?” - </p> - <p> - “What you're going to do with Estelle when you find her.” - </p> - <p> - “Do with her? Why—why—” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't think she'd come right back to you—things the same as - they was before—did you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—” - </p> - <p> - “Did she know you had a wife?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, no,—she didn't know that.” - </p> - <p> - “But she does now. She has read the letter.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory had not thought of this. - </p> - <p> - “Estelle isn't altogether a fool, you know. Not so bad as Roche—or - you. If I were you, I'd stick to Madge. If you don't, some better fellow - will.” - </p> - <p> - “Who do you mean now, for instance?” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind who I mean. I don't think you've seen yet how mussy this - business is. Here Estelle is, like enough, on our hands. Now we can't - leave her behind. She wouldn't come along with you; and even if she would, - she isn't strong enough. If we did leave her here, it simply means that - she would be blabbing out the whole story to the first goodlooking chap - that asked her a few questions.” - </p> - <p> - “But don't you see? I can't let a man insult me like Roche done.” - </p> - <p> - “No, you can't. But if you could fix things so Roche nor nobody could get - her, and still you'd be free to go back to Madge, you wouldn't object, - would you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no—sure not. How do you mean?” - </p> - <p> - “If you find her there at the house, or in the barn, or anywhere around, - you'd better just—here, your knife ain't much good. Take mine.” He - opened his clasp knife—the blade was five inches long—and held - it out. - </p> - <p> - McGlory took it, stood still in his tracks looking at it, and then raised - his eyes to the face of his companion. - </p> - <p> - “Well—have you got the nerve?” - </p> - <p> - “Have I got the nerve!” McGlory laughed out loud, and thrust the open - knife into his belt, at the side, under his coat. - </p> - <p> - “I wouldn't use a gun unless I had to.” He paused, laid his hand on - McGlory's arm, and dropped his voice. “Look there! There's a light in the - window.” - </p> - <p> - McGlory swelled with rage. “I 'll put a stop to this!” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on a minute, Joe. I 'll slip around the bank of the creek here, the - other side of the barn, so I can watch the road and the barn both.” He ran - silently away, dodging among the trees, and in a moment had disappeared. - While McGlory was standing there, breathing hard and twitching - impatiently, he passed behind the barn-yard, keeping always among the - trees of the bank, and on to the bridge. Here he looked carefully around, - then stooped under the beams of the bridge flooring and got into a scow - that lay there. - </p> - <p> - McGlory stood still as long as he could, then, throwing, the reins to his - temper, he strode toward the house. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—THE MEETING - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0332.jpg" alt="0332 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0332.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was between - eleven o'clock and midnight when McGlory and his companion returned to Van - Deelen's; it was between ten and eleven of this same Thursday night when - Axel Lindquist was taken sick on the road, not a long walk from his - father's house. - </p> - <p> - In less than an hour Beveridge and his companions reached a turn in the - road and found themselves at the top of the slope,—it was hardly a - hill,—with Van Deelen's bridge a little way below them, and the - farm-yard beyond. Beveridge extinguished the lantern. “Look there!” Wilson - exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “At the house yonder. Don't you see there's a light burning?” - </p> - <p> - “That's a fact. We 'll move a little quietly, boys. Bert, you step around - between the house and the barn and keep an eye on the back door. Harper - will be with you.” - </p> - <p> - They started down toward the bridge while Beveridge was speaking. When - they had crossed over, Harper stopped. - </p> - <p> - “Can you wait just a minute? I've got a stone in my shoe.” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll go ahead. Come on as soon as you can and join Bert out by the - barn.” And the three passed on, leaving Pink on a log at the roadside. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge and Smiley went up to the front door and knocked. There was no - response. But for the light in one window, the house might have been - deserted. Beveridge knocked again. “Open up in there!” he shouted. But no - one answered. Smiley turned and looked around the dim clearing with a - shudder. “Lonesome, isn't it?” he said. “What a place to live!” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge's mind was bent on getting in. “So they won't answer, eh? We 'll - see.” He stepped back to the ground, picked up a length of cord-wood, and - struck a heavy blow on the door. At this, a head appeared in an upper - window. - </p> - <p> - “Who's there?” - </p> - <p> - “Open your door and I 'll tell you.” - </p> - <p> - “Tell me who you are, first.” - </p> - <p> - “A special agent of the United States Treasury Department.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want me for?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care anything about you. I want the men you have hidden here.” - </p> - <p> - “There ain't nobody here but my wife and me.” - </p> - <p> - “Will you open, or shall I break in your door?” - </p> - <p> - “Wait a minute! Don't break it! How do I know you're what you say you - are?” - </p> - <p> - “Smiley, fetch a rail, will you please?” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on there! I 'll be down in a minute.” The minute was not a quarter - gone when the same voice was heard through the door, saying, “You haven't - told me your names yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you going to open this door?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes. Don't get impatient now.” The bolt slid back, and the door - opened a few inches. These inches were promptly occupied by Beveridge's - foot. - </p> - <p> - “What's your name, my friend?” asked the special agent. - </p> - <p> - “Van Deelen. I don't see what you want here. There ain't nobody here but - us.” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll see about that.” Beveridge, as he spoke, threw his weight on the - door and forced it open so abruptly that the farmer was thrown back - against the wall. He entered with Smiley close at his heels. “Of course,” - he went on, as he shut it behind him, “if there isn't anything really the - matter here, you won't mind my looking around a little.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no—oh, no—only—” - </p> - <p> - “Only what?” - </p> - <p> - “My wife's down sick, and any noise or excitement might upset her.” - </p> - <p> - “Nervous trouble, maybe.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, something of that sort.” - </p> - <p> - “Has to keep her room, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Room shut up so noise won't disturb her?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, we keep it shut.” - </p> - <p> - “Place got on her nerves a little, maybe. Should think it would be sort of - monotonous here. No doctor, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not this side of Hewittson.” - </p> - <p> - “How long has she been troubled?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—” - </p> - <p> - “Sudden attack, to-day or yesterday? Sick headache, and all that?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—she has a bad headache.” - </p> - <p> - “Good deal of nausea, too? Sight of food distasteful?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, she doesn't want anything to eat. - </p> - <p> - “Can't keep anything on her stomach? Lost interest in living—no - enthusiasm for anything? Is that the form it takes?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes—yes—” - </p> - <p> - “Curious thing. Seems to prevail in this neighborhood. Young Lindquist, - back up the road, has the same trouble.” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen's stolid face wore a puzzled expression. He seemed not to know - how far to resent this inquisition. “Say,” he asked, “what do you want?” - </p> - <p> - “I want to know if you always receive folks with a shot-gun?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—” - </p> - <p> - “Bad characters in the neighborhood, maybe. Have they been giving you - trouble to-night?” - </p> - <p> - “Who're you talking about?” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory and the rest. When did they come?” - </p> - <p> - “There hasn't anybody been here.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, all right. That's first-rate—would you mind stepping up and - telling your wife the doctor has come?” - </p> - <p> - “You ain't a doctor.” - </p> - <p> - “Come, my friend, don't contradict. I'm afraid we 'll have to take a look - into her room.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you will!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. We 'll walk around this floor a little first. Will you entertain him - a minute, Smiley?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge slipped away, leaving the two standing at the foot of the - stairs. He moved from room to room, carrying a lamp which he had found in - the front room and had lighted. Soon he returned, set down the lamp where - he had found it, and joined Smiley and the farmer. “So Estelle's had her - hair cut,” he observed. - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen shot a glance at him, but Beveridge went easily on. “Now we 'll - go upstairs, Dick.” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen, gun in hand, retreated upward a few steps and barred the way. - Beveridge looked at him, then he stepped quickly up and seized the gun by - barrel and stock. The farmer could easily have shot him, but he made no - attempt. And now the two men silently wrestled there, Van Deelen in the - more advantageous position, but Beveridge showing greater strength than - his figure seemed to promise. Finally, with a quick wrench, the special - agent got possession of the weapon and passed it down to Smiley. “Now, - Mister van Deelen,” he said, “will you please stand aside?” - </p> - <p> - For reply the farmer began retreating backward up the stairway, always - facing Beveridge, who followed closely. Dick drew the shells from the gun, - tossed it into the front room, and came after. The upper hall was square, - and of the three doors around it only one was closed. Beveridge stepped - into each of the open rooms, and then tried the door of the third, while - Van Deelen stood sullenly by. - </p> - <p> - “Will you open this door?” Beveridge asked, with the beginnings of - impatience. - </p> - <p> - No reply from the farmer. Smiley drew Beveridge aside and whispered, - “Maybe it's true that she's sick in there.” - </p> - <p> - “Not much.” - </p> - <p> - “But we haven't found her anywhere around the house.” - </p> - <p> - “If she <i>is</i> there, she isn't alone.” - </p> - <p> - “But I kind of hate to break into a woman's room this way.” - </p> - <p> - “Don't get chicken-hearted, Dick.” He turned to the farmer and asked - again, “Will you open this door?” - </p> - <p> - There was no reply. - </p> - <p> - Without another word Beveridge threw himself against it; but it was - stoutly built and did not yield. All three heard a gasp of fright from - within. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Bill,” Smiley exclaimed. “No use breaking your collar-bone. I - 'll get a rail.” - </p> - <p> - He said this with the idea of bullying either the farmer or the persons - within the room into opening the door, but Van Deelen remained sullen and - motionless. Beveridge, however, caught up the idea; and with a “Wait here, - Dick,” he ran down the stairs. In entering the house they had closed the - door after them, and now Beveridge had to stop and fumble a moment with - the lock. - </p> - <p> - But it was only a moment, and pulling it open he plunged out. - </p> - <p> - A breathless man with his hat pulled down was starting up the steps. - Beveridge stopped short; so did the breathless man. For an instant they - stood motionless, one staring down from the top step, the other staring up - from the bottom. Then Beveridge saw, in the shadow of the hat-brim, a - black mustache; and at the same instant the owner of the mustache - recognized the figure above him. - </p> - <p> - Not for worlds would Beveridge have called out. He had McGlory fairly in - his hands,—the moment he had been hoping for, almost praying for, - had come,—and he could never have resisted the desire to take him - singlehanded. McGlory was heavy, muscular, desperate—these were - merely additional reasons. Beveridge had known little but plodding work - for weeks and months—here was where the glory came in. And glory was - what he craved—a line in the papers, the envy of his associates, the - approbation of his superiors. - </p> - <p> - And so, when he saw McGlory before him in the flesh, silently tugging at - something in his hip pocket, he not only sprang down on him as a mountain - lion might leap on its prey,—not only this, but he took pains, even - in this whirling moment, to make no noise in the take-off. McGlory got the - revolver out, but he was a fifth of a second too late. Just as he swung it - around, the special agent landed on him, caught his wrist, gripped him - around the neck with his other arm, and bore him down in the sand of the - dooryard. Neither made a sound, save for occasional grunting and heavy - breathing. They rolled over and over, Beveridge now on top, now McGlory. - McGlory was hard as steel; Beveridge was lithe and quick. If McGlory - gripped him so tight around the body that it seemed only a question of - seconds before his ribs must go, one after another, Beveridge never - slackened his hold of that bull-like neck. McGlory struggled to turn the - revolver toward Beveridge; but Beveridge held to his wrist and bent it - back—back—until any other man must have dropped the weapon for - the sheer pain of it. - </p> - <p> - The door had swung to behind Beveridge as he went out; the horse was - thrashing in the barn; and Dick, leaning against the closed door of Mrs. - van Deelen's bedroom, looking at the farmer, heard nothing of the struggle - that was going on outside. He was wondering what interest this farmer - could have in a gang of smugglers. He decided to ask. This business of - standing opposite him and exchanging the glances of two hostile dogs was - not a pleasant experience for a man of Dick's sociable humor. - </p> - <p> - “I've been wondering, Van Deelen, what you're acting this way for.” - </p> - <p> - A suspicious glance was all this remark drew out. - </p> - <p> - “I don't believe you're mixed up with that crew, and I don't see how you - can be interested in covering their tracks. Are you sure you aren't taking - the wrong tack?” - </p> - <p> - “I ain't covering anybody's tracks. You don't know what you're talking - about.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't you see that we don't enjoy breaking into people's houses and - prying around in bedrooms?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you do it for then?” - </p> - <p> - “What do we do it for! Why, McGlory and his gang are Smugglers—they're - a bad lot. And this man with me is a government officer.” - </p> - <p> - “That ain't telling why you come <i>here</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Van Deelen, what's the use of keeping up that bluff? It doesn't fool - anybody. We know all about their coming here. We've tracked them this far. - This officer will never leave the house until he has opened this door and - seen who you've got in here. I can promise you he 'll act like a - gentleman. Now don't you think it would be a good deal better just to open - up and be done with it?” - </p> - <p> - Having no reasonable answer to this, Van Deelen fell back into his sullen - silence. - </p> - <p> - “Wonder what's taking him so long,” Dick observed. “Would he have to go - far for a rail?” - </p> - <p> - There was no answer. - </p> - <p> - Altogether, it was not a cheerful situation. Dick, who had borne up - capitally so far, now experienced a sinking of spirits. He looked first at - the glum figure before him, then at the dingy walls and ceiling, then down - into the shadows of the stairway. Seeing nothing that could prop his - spirits, he fell to humming “Baby Mine.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I beg your pardon,” he broke out, interrupting himself; “maybe I'm - disturbing your wife?” - </p> - <p> - There was no answer. - </p> - <p> - “You're a hilarious old bird,” said Dick. - </p> - <p> - No answer—nothing but that glum Dutch face. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well—go to thunder!” - </p> - <p> - Not even a gleam of anger disturbed those Dutch eyes. Dick, his feeble - struggle over, succumbed to the gloom and was silent. And such silence as - it was! The horse, over in the barn, had ceased kicking about; the air was - still. The creakings of the old house sounded like the tread of feet. The - loud breathing of the person within the closed room could be distinctly - heard. - </p> - <p> - There was a shot outside—then silence—two more shots—again - the silence. It is curious how a revolver shot, in the stillness of the - night, can be at once startling and insignificant. Curious, because it is - not very loud—no deafening report—no reverberation—but - merely a dead <i>thud</i>, as if the sound were smothered in a blanket. - And yet it was loud enough to raise goose-flesh all over Dick's body and - send the creepy feeling that we all know through the roots of his hair, as - if a thousand ants had suddenly sprung into being there. At the first - report he stiffened up; the second and third met his ears halfway down the - stairs. Van Deelen, frightened, bewildered, ran down close after him. - </p> - <p> - Dick paused at the foot of the steps and looked around. In an instant he - made out the familiar figure of Beveridge a dozen yards away. The special - agent was standing over a prostrate man, one hand gripping a revolver, the - other fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief. The sweat was glistening - on his face, his collar and tie hung down his breast, his coat was torn - clear across the back. - </p> - <p> - Dick joined him, and knelt over the man on the ground. - </p> - <p> - “We've wasted time enough on him,” said Beveridge, catching his breath. - </p> - <p> - “Who—oh, it's McGlory! Is—is he—” - </p> - <p> - “Shouldn't wonder. Help me get a rail, will you?” - </p> - <p> - They started without further words toward the barn-yard fence. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on,” said Dick. “There's that cord-wood we used on the front door.” - </p> - <p> - “That will do.” - </p> - <p> - So they went back and picked up the heavy stick. At this moment Harper - came running up, his shoe in his hand. “I didn't know you was going to be - in such a thundering hurry to begin the shooting, Mr. Beveridge. I 'most - cut my foot to pieces running up here.” - </p> - <p> - “Come along, Dick,” said Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord!” gasped Harper, suddenly taking in the figure of the special - agent. “What they been doing to you?” - </p> - <p> - But Beveridge gave no heed to the question. “Stay here at the steps, - Harper, and if any more come up, don't let 'em get away from you.” With - the cord-wood on his shoulder, he entered the house and started up the - stairs. But Van Deelen hurried after him and caught his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what do you want?” - </p> - <p> - “You needn't use that.” - </p> - <p> - “You 'll let me in?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge promptly set down his burden on the stairs, and stood aside to - let the farmer take the lead. - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen tapped at the door, and softly, called, “Saskia!” - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “You have to open the door and let this gentleman in.” - </p> - <p> - “Mercy, no!” - </p> - <p> - “But you have to!” - </p> - <p> - “Then,—” the voice was very fluttery and agitated—“then wait a - minute after I unlock the door.” - </p> - <p> - The bolt was slipped, and they could hear a frantic rustling and - scampering. Van Deelen opened the door and entered the room with Beveridge - and Smiley at his heels. As they entered, another door, evidently leading - to a closet, was violently closed. - </p> - <p> - The three men stood a moment in the middle of the room without speaking, - then Beveridge walked over to the bed. The woman lying there had turned to - the wall and drawn the coverlet over her face. Beveridge bent over and - jerked it back. “Smiley,” he called, “come here and see if this ain't your - old friend, Estelle!” - </p> - <p> - The woman struggled to hide her face again, but Beveridge rudely held her - quiet. Dick would have turned away but for the special agent's impatience. - As it was he made him speak twice. Then he went slowly and shamefacedly to - the bed. “Yes, I guess this is Estelle, all right.” - </p> - <p> - They saw her shudder. Her face was flushed with fever. Dick took - Beveridge's arm and whispered, “For heaven's sake, Bill, don't be a - beast.” But Beveridge impatiently shook him off. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Estelle,” he said, “the game's up. We've got them.” - </p> - <p> - Her eyes were wild, but she managed to repeat. “You've got them?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. You 'll never see McGlory again.” - </p> - <p> - “And Pete—have you got Pete?” Beveridge glanced inquiringly at - Smiley, who, after a moment of puzzling, nodded, and with his lips formed - the name “Roche.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, we've got Roche. Pretty lot they were to leave you here.” - </p> - <p> - But Estelle had fainted. - </p> - <p> - “Here, Dick,” said Beveridge, “bring some water.” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen indicated the washstand, and Smiley fetched the pitcher. - Beveridge sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her forehead with the - cool water. He asked Van Deelen for some whiskey, and forced a little - between her teeth. Finally her eyes opened. - </p> - <p> - “There,” said Beveridge, “that's better. You 'll be all right in a minute. - Now tell me why they left you.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Bill,” said Dick, “I can't stand this.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge paid no attention, but went on stroking her forehead. “Tell me - why they left you, Estelle. They weren't very square with you.” - </p> - <p> - “It was Pete—” The whiskey had revived her a very little. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know. You were mistaken in Pete. He never meant to stand by you.” - </p> - <p> - “He said—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—go on.” - </p> - <p> - “He said we—we could get away—and—” - </p> - <p> - “Yes?” - </p> - <p> - “—and they were asleep and—and then we saw the house, and—oh, - I can't think—” - </p> - <p> - “Bill,—for heaven's sake!” cried Dick. “Yes, it's all right, - Estelle. You're all safe now. Try to think.” - </p> - <p> - “I guess I fainted—Pete was gone—and I—I don't know—how - I got to the house—” - </p> - <p> - “That will do. Go to sleep, Estelle. We 'll take good care of you.” - Beveridge rose, and looked significantly toward the closet door. “Now, - Mister,” he said, addressing the farmer, “we 'll just take a look in that - closet before we go, and—” - </p> - <p> - A protesting voice, muffled by hanging garments, but shrill nevertheless, - came from the closet, and Beveridge smiled. “Is it your wife?” he asked. - Van Deelen nodded. And then, the smile lingering, Beveridge led the way - out of the room. - </p> - <p> - As they started down the stairs, Dick observed: “You were awful quiet down - there with McGlory, Bill. I'd heard your second shot before I knew - anything was happening.” - </p> - <p> - “You never heard my second shot.” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't? I'd like to know why I didn't.” - </p> - <p> - “Because I only fired once.” - </p> - <p> - “Then who did the rest of it? By Jove! Where's Wilson?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge turned sharply at the question. “That's a fact,” he muttered. - They had reached the front steps by this time, and could see Harper - ostentatiously standing guard with drawn revolver. “Say, Pink, have you - seen Bert anywhere?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Thought he was inside with you.” - </p> - <p> - “Step around the house, quick. We 'll go this way.” - </p> - <p> - They found Wilson lying on the ground, not far from the front of the - house. He had plunged forward on his face, with his arms spread out before - him. Apparently he had been running around from the rear to join Beveridge - when the ball brought him down. In an instant the two men were kneeling by - him. - </p> - <p> - “How is it, Bill? Can you tell?” - </p> - <p> - “He isn't gone yet. Get a light, will you?” Dick ran back into the house - and brought out Van Deelen with a lamp and some improvised bandages. - Beveridge had some practical knowledge of first aid to the injured; and - the farmer seemed really to have some little skill, as a man must who - lives with his family twenty-five miles from a physician. And so between - them they managed to stanch the flow of blood while Dick and Pink were - carrying a small bed out of doors. With great care not to start the flow - again, they carried him into the front room. - </p> - <p> - “Did you notice,” said Beveridge to Smiley, when they had made him as - comfortable as they could, “where he was hit?” - </p> - <p> - “In the back, wasn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and a little to the right. Now if he fell straight,—and I - think he did, because the way he went shows that he was running, and that - he simply pitched forward,—the shot must have come from near the - bridge, maybe from those trees a little down-stream from the bridge. Now - there's just one man could have done it, to my notion. He was an old hand, - because it was a pretty shot at the distance and in that <i>light</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “Who do you think?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, there's Roche. He skipped out some time ago and left Estelle - in the woods. He wouldn't have done that unless he was badly scared, would - he? Isn't he a pretty poor lot, anyway—no nerve, just bluster?” - </p> - <p> - “That's Pete. If he is fairly started running, he won't stop to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “That's about what I thought about him. It's pretty plain he would never - have come back here with McGlory after him—you see McGlory <i>had</i> - come after him,—he was chasing Roche because he had run off with - Estelle—and made such a cool shot as that was. So we 'll rule out - Roche. And McGlory is ruled out too, and Estelle.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh—” - </p> - <p> - “So that leaves just 'the boss'—Spencer.” - </p> - <p> - “That sounds reasonable.” - </p> - <p> - “He has nerve enough for anything, hasn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “He looks as if he had.” - </p> - <p> - “Now I 'll tell you what we 'll do. We 'll get this Dutch woman to nurse - Bert here, and then the four of us will step down to the bridge and see - what we can make of it—or hold on; I 'll take Van Deelen and go to - the bridge, and you and Harper can go down to the creek below the barn and - work up to the bridge. What do you think of that?” - </p> - <p> - “First-rate.” - </p> - <p> - “You aren't too fagged?” - </p> - <p> - “Not me—not while the rest of you are on your pins.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the talk. I 'll see about the woman here.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, Bill, wait a minute. You aren't planning to walk right up to the - bridge, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure. Why not?” - </p> - <p> - “If I was you, I'd work around through the trees a little. He may be there - yet, and we know how he can shoot.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the use? It's all a gamble anyhow. The thing to do is to go on the - run. A man is a good deal like a dog, you know. If you run right at him - and show all over you that you mean business, why, even if he thinks he is - ready for you, it's likely to bother him. Upsets his nerve—starts - him thinking he is on the losing side.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIII—WHISKEY JIM - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0358.jpg" alt="0358 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0358.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>EFORE the four men - left the house Wilson revived and asked for his chief. Beveridge, his torn - coat thrown aside, hurried back and bent over the bed. “What is it, Bert?” - </p> - <p> - “That's what I was going to ask you. I don't remember—exactly—” - </p> - <p> - “You were running around the house when somebody winged you. It doesn't - amount to anything—you 'll be around in a day or so.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes—that's it. It was some fellow behind, wasn't it? I remember - I didn't see anybody ahead.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—he was a little below the bridge, as I figure it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—yes—don't you see, Bill? That's where Harper was—he - stayed behind with some yarn about his shoe—had a stone in it.” - </p> - <p> - “Keep quiet, Bert! don't get worked up—” - </p> - <p> - “But think of it, Bill! What you going to do now?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to find the man that hit you.” - </p> - <p> - “Not with those two, Smiley and Harper?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “But don't you see, Bill? That's just what they want. They've got rid of - me—now they 'll draw you off into the woods—why, you're - putting yourself right in their hands!” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better try to think of something else, Bert. Mrs. van Deelen here - is going to take good care of you. I 'll stop in on the way back.” And - Beveridge slipped out the door without giving Wilson further opportunity - to protest. - </p> - <p> - The others were waiting impatiently at the steps. Smiley and Harper at - once started off toward the creek below the barn; and Beveridge set out on - a run for the bridge, telling the farmer to follow. - </p> - <p> - When he reached the creek, Beveridge searched through the trees for some - distance down-stream and then up-stream, but found no sign of a man. - “Well,” he said, joining Van Deelen at the end of the bridge, “he got away - all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you look under the bridge?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Nothing there.” - </p> - <p> - The farmer stood still for a moment, thinking; then he clambered down the - bank and peered into the shadow under the bridge floor. “Come down here,” - he said. And when Beveridge had reached his side, standing ankle-deep in - the muddy water, he went on, “See that?” - </p> - <p> - “No—wait a minute, I can't see anything yet. What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Feel this rope. It's been cut.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” murmured Beveridge, “I see. A boat.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. He has stolen my boat.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course—and slipped off down-stream as easy and quiet as you - like. He's a cool hand, that Spencer. Come back up here—we 'll go on - down and meet Smiley. Wait, though, he might be hiding anywhere down the - stream here. Are there many bushes and such along the bank?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's grown up pretty heavy. I never had any reason for keeping it - cleared.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, we 'll keep down here close to the water where we can see - things.” - </p> - <p> - “It 'll be pretty wet. Will you wait while I get my boots? My rheumatism's - been pretty bad this year—” - </p> - <p> - “Go back, then. I can't wait for you.” - </p> - <p> - And with this, Beveridge pushed off down the stream. Van Deelen, after a - moment's hesitation, followed. They met the other party just above the - barn. - </p> - <p> - “See anything?” asked Dick. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. He has gone down in a boat.” Beveridge turned to the farmer. “Does - the creek go on far in this direction?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it turns off south pretty soon.” - </p> - <p> - “Would it take him anywhere especial?” - </p> - <p> - “No—just into the woods.” - </p> - <p> - “No houses south of here?” - </p> - <p> - “Not for a long way.” - </p> - <p> - “And it's sluggish like this all along, isn't it? Full of snags and - shallows?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, he couldn't go very fast.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. Come on, boys.” - </p> - <p> - On they went, walking over the spongy ground below the bank or splashing - softly through the water. They did not speak, but followed their leader - eagerly through the moving shadows. The trees arched over their heads, the - water slipped moodily onward, blacker than the shadows. Now and then they - stumbled over projecting roots, or stepped down knee-deep in some muddy - hole; all the while their eyes strove to pierce the dark, searching for a - boat in the gloom of the opposite bank, or for a man among the bushes - above, even glancing overhead into the trees, where a desperate man might - have hidden. At length they reached an opening in the trees of the right - bank, and Beveridge, stepping up, found that the road here paralleled the - creek. - </p> - <p> - “Which way now?” asked Dick. - </p> - <p> - “No sign of a boat, is there?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Then keep on down-stream.” - </p> - <p> - They divided now in order to watch both banks, for the creek had widened a - little and the shadows were dense. It was Smiley and Harper who waded - across, stepping down waist-deep in the water and mud. Not a word was - spoken. The only sound was the low splash-splash of four pairs of feet, - with now and then the noise of heavy breathing or a muttered exclamation - as one or another stumbled into a hole. - </p> - <p> - “Hello—ouch!” - </p> - <p> - The voice was Pink Harper's. At this point the trees had shut in overhead, - and the dark was impenetrable. Beveridge and Van Deelen could see nothing - across the creek, not even the blot of denser black which told Smiley, - only a few feet behind, where his companion had stopped. - </p> - <p> - “What is it?” came in a low voice from Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Hit my shin. Hold on—feels like a boat. Guess you'd better come - across.” - </p> - <p> - Without a moment's hesitation the special agent turned to the left and - plunged into the stream. At this point it was deeper, and he found himself - submerged to the armpits. To save time he drew up his feet and swam across - until his knees struck bottom. And then the three of them,—Van - Deelen waited on the farther bank,—now dimly visible to each other, - stood side by side feeling of the boat. - </p> - <p> - “You 'll have to come over here,” said Beveridge to the farmer, “and tell - us if it's your boat.” - </p> - <p> - Van Deelen had no mind to swim. “Can't you strike a match?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Strike your aunt!” growled Beveridge, wringing his wet clothes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, say, that ain't necessary anyhow. My boat's the only one on the - creek.” - </p> - <p> - “Why didn't you say that before I swam over?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I—” - </p> - <p> - “You want to watch out or you 'll be coming down with brain fever one of - these days. Come, boys, we 'll go back.” - </p> - <p> - “You think what he did was to take to the road back up there and set the - boat adrift?” asked Pink. - </p> - <p> - “Of course.” The words came from the deeper water, where the special agent - was already swimming back. A moment more and Dick and Pink were after him. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mister van Deelen,” said Beveridge, when they had gathered together, - “take us to the road.” - </p> - <p> - “It's right back up-stream. You know where it is as well as I do.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't we strike right over through the woods?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes, you could do—” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Dick. It 'll be lighter when we get up out of this hole.” - </p> - <p> - They floundered through a hundred yards of undergrowth and finally came - upon the open road. They were a dismal enough party. The water in their - shoes gurgled when they moved and spurted out at the lacings in little - streams. Other streams ran down their clothing to the road, where the sand - drank them up. Beveridge was without coat or collar, and the others were - nearly as dilapidated. The physical strain of the chase, and the loss of - sleep, not to speak of Beveridge's fight with McGlory, had worn them down - nearly to the point at which nature asserts her peremptory claims,—but - not one of them knew it. They did not know that they were a desperate - spectacle in the eyes of the bewildered farmer; even if they could have - stood in the light of day and looked full at one another, it is to be - doubted if any of the three would have observed the deep-lined, white - faces, the ringed eyes, of the other two. For the spirit of the chase was - in them. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mister Van,” said Beveridge, almost gayly, “how far is it to the - next house?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—why—” - </p> - <p> - “Don't think too fast. A man died that way once.” - </p> - <p> - “There's an empty house about a mile from here.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, we 'll make for that. I want you, Van Deelen, to hitch up a - wagon and come on after us as quick as you can.” - </p> - <p> - The farmer turned at once and walked rapidly up the road. - </p> - <p> - “Spencer hasn't much start of us,” said Beveridge, as the three men - started in the opposite direction. - </p> - <p> - “He couldn't have. It took him a good while to work down here in that - boat. We 'll get him if he keeps the road.” - </p> - <p> - “He 'll have to do that. If he took to the woods, he would be lost in an - hour—and that means starvation.” - </p> - <p> - Pink ventured a pleasantry, “Maybe he's got a compass,” of which the - special agent took not the slightest notice; but said, turning to Smiley, - “How are your legs, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “Fine. Trim as they make them.” - </p> - <p> - “Feel up to a dog trot?” - </p> - <p> - “Half a dollar even, I 'll beat you to the deserted house.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, don't get to sprinting. Save your wind. An easy jog will do it.” - </p> - <p> - All three fell at once into an easy running gait, Smiley and Beveridge - side by side, Pink laboring along in the rear. - </p> - <p> - Five minutes later Beveridge paused for breath. “We must have run nearly a - mile by this time, boys.” - </p> - <p> - “Easily.” - </p> - <p> - “Not so loud. Doesn't it look to you as if the road turned—up ahead - there?” - </p> - <p> - It did look so; and as they went on toward the turning it grew plain that - they were approaching a clearing. - </p> - <p> - “Wait, boys,” whispered the special agent. “This ought to be the place,—we - don't want to move quite so carelessly now. Dick, you go around to the - left, and I 'll take the right; Pink, you give us two or three minutes and - then move in quietly toward the clearing. In that way we shall all three - close in together. Wait a few minutes now.” - </p> - <p> - The two men disappeared in the woods, one on each side of the road, and - Pink was left alone in the shadows. At first he could hear now and then a - low rustle as one or the other brushed through the bushes, but soon these - sounds died away. He was standing in the shadow at the roadside, gazing - with fixed eyes at the opening in the trees and stumps a hundred yards - farther along. He wondered if the three minutes were up. It was too dark - to use his watch. Waiting there under the stars, the minutes spun out - amazingly; all sense of the passage of time seemed to have left him. He - moved forward a few steps,—but no, it was too early; Dick and - Beveridge had surely not had time to get to their positions. Still, what - if he should wait too long, and not arrive in time to act in concert with - the others? - </p> - <p> - Out on the Lakes, with a slanting deck underfoot and a dim shore-line - somewhere off in the night, Pink's soul would have thrilled in unison with - the stars, but here, buried in the gloom of the pine stumps,—those - straight, blackened poles that stood in endless monotony,—his soul - was overwhelmed. A panic seized him; he knew he would be late; and he took - to gliding along in the shadows, nearer and nearer, until, seeing plainly - that the road swung around to the right, and that the clearing was - overgrown with tall weeds and was surrounded by a stump fence, he paused - again. His feet sinking at each step in the sand, he made no sound. - </p> - <p> - He stood motionless. Over the weeds he made out the sagging roof of a - small building. Then, forgetting that his own figure was invisible against - the black of the forest, he dropped to the ground and, flat on his face, - wriggled forward. A row of sunflowers grew inside the fence. At one point - was a cluster of them, standing out high above the weeds. Cautiously inch - by inch he crept nearer. The bunched stalks, outlined so distinctly - against the sky, fascinated him by their resemblance to the hat, head, and - shoulders of a human being. - </p> - <p> - Nearer—nearer—a moment more and he would be able to place his - hand against the fence. He was holding his breath now; afterward he could - never tell what was the slight noise he must have made. Or perhaps it was - the sense that tells one when a person has silently entered a room that - caused the figure—just as Pink, lying there on the sand and looking - up, had made sure that it <i>was</i> a figure and not a clump of - sunflowers—to look around, up and down. Pink scrambled to his feet - and plunged recklessly forward. The man, who had been sitting on the - fence, quietly dropped down on the inner side. - </p> - <p> - A stump fence is not easy to climb, and Pink was on the outer side, where - the tangled masses of roots spread out into a <i>cheveau-de-frise</i> - which, in the dark, seemed insurmountable. When he had finally got to the - top, at the expense of a few scratches, a disturbance in the weeds near - the front of the house told him where the fugitive had taken refuge. He - promptly set up a shout. - </p> - <p> - “Ho-o-ho!” came simultaneously from Smiley and Beveridge. - </p> - <p> - “Here he is!” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “In the—” Pink was balancing on the fence. Before he could finish - his shout a revolver shot sounded from the house, and he went tumbling - down into the enclosure. - </p> - <p> - “What's that! Are you hit?” - </p> - <p> - “No—just lost my balance. Close in—he's in the house.” He was - getting to his feet during this speech and feeling himself, not sure, in - spite of his statement, whether it was the noise or the bullet that had - upset him. But he could find no trace of a wound. - </p> - <p> - “Keep your places!” Beveridge was calling to the others. “Keep your - places! Now then, Mr. Spencer, we have you cornered. You can have your - choice of giving up now or being starved out. Which will it be?” - </p> - <p> - No answer from the house. - </p> - <p> - “Speak up! I don't propose to waste much more time on you.” - </p> - <p> - This time the fugitive decided to reply; but his reply took the form of a - second shot, sent carefully toward the spot in the weeds from which the - voice seemed to be coming. - </p> - <p> - “Hi!” shouted Pink, “did he get you?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Shut up, will you?” - </p> - <p> - The man with the revolver was plainly an old hand, for now he fired a - third time; and the shot came dangerously near, whether by luck or - otherwise, to shutting up the speaker for all time. Beveridge dropped - hastily behind a log that lay at his feet. Then, disgusted with himself, - he scrambled boldly up and stood on the log. - </p> - <p> - Pink was obediently silent, 'though trembling with excitement. The - stillness of the forest fell suddenly in upon them. For a few moments - nothing was said or done. The man in the house had a momentary advantage - which all recognized. What light the sky gave was all upon the clearing, - and to move, however cautiously, through that tangle of weeds and bushes - without setting the tops to waving, was impossible. The building was so - small that the man could, with little effort, command all four sides. And - so Beveridge decided on a council of war with Smiley. At his first - movement another shot came cutting through the bushes; but he laughed - aloud, and went deliberately on in a quarter circle until he found Smiley. - “Well,” he said softly and gleefully, “we've got him.” - </p> - <p> - “If we can keep awake as long as he can. What are you going to do now?” - </p> - <p> - “Wait till dawn, and see how he stands it. No, don't look at me. Keep your - eyes on the house. He's too slippery to run chances with. It oughtn't to - be so very long now. How about you—can you keep up all right?” - </p> - <p> - “Me? Why, certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, then. I 'll go around and take the boy's place, so he can rest - a bit. Keep a close watch. So long.” - </p> - <p> - “So long.” - </p> - <p> - The special agent went on around his circle, and found Pink near the - fence. “I 'll be here for a while, Harper. You'd better try to get some - sleep.” - </p> - <p> - “Me—sleep?” - </p> - <p> - “Take your chance while you have it.” - </p> - <p> - “Moses and the bulrushers! You don't think I could sleep now?” - </p> - <p> - “Just as you like.” - </p> - <p> - To the three watchers there seemed to be a breakdown somewhere on the line - that leads to dawn. The hours dragged until they stopped short. All the - real things of this world, cities and schooners and houses on stilts and - long reaches of blue water, had slipped back into the dim land of dreams. - Nothing was real but the brooding forest, the rank weeds with their tale - of desolation, the sand—sand—sand. Even Beveridge, sitting on - his log, gave way. At each sound from the forest,—a crackle or a - rustle,—he started like a nervous woman. Chilled by the night air - and his wet clothes, he shivered until his teeth rattled. - </p> - <p> - A husky, plaintive voice rose into the night, singing. It came from - Harper's post near the stump fence.= - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />"A fu-nee-ral per-cession was a-passin' down a street<br /> - </p> - <p> - <br />That was lin'd with mansions stately, rich, and grand; - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />A tiny girl was sobbin', her lit-tull heart most broke, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />A tear-stained hank-er-chuff was in her hand. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />A tall and stately gentlemun, touched by her sorry plight, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />For she was pale and ragged, thin and wan, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />He stopped and took her lit-tull hand, and gently bending o'er,<br /> - </p> - <p> - <br />'Don't cry, my child, I 'll help you if I can.'”= - </p> - <p> - All the horrors of the night and the forest were gathered up into that - wailing voice. Beveridge shuddered. But Pink was warming up to it now, - sharing his misery with the night. If the verse had been doleful, the - refrain was worse:—= - </p> - <p>“'Mother's in the coffun, sir, - </p> - <p>Mother's left her home; - </p> - <p>The ainjulls come and took her up on high. - </p> - <p>But if I'm good and kindly, sir, - </p> - <p>And never off do roam, - </p> - <p>I 'll meet her in the sweet by-and-by.'”= - </p> - <p> - Beveridge rose uncertainly to his feet. The song went on:—= - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />“'Tell me your name, my lit-tull child,' the gentlemun did<br /> - </p> - <p>say, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />And when the words she lisping did repeat, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br />He staggered back in horror with remorse wrote on his face,<br /> - </p> - <p>And—“= - </p> - <p> - At this point Beveridge began moving through the weeds. Pink sang on; and - he was just breaking out into the refrain,—= - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><br />Mother's in her coffan, sir, - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><br />Mother's left her home; - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><br />The ainjulls come and took her up—'” - </p> - <p> - when he heard a sound, started, looked up, saw a dark figure bending over - him, and stopped singing with a gasp. - </p> - <p> - “That 'll do for you,” said the dark figure. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it's you!” exclaimed Pink, with relief. “That 'll do for you. - Understand?” - </p> - <p> - Pink was silent. Beveridge slipped silently back to his log. - </p> - <p> - Night has a way of giving place to day, even such interminable nights as - this. Neither hastening nor resting, with no heed for the miserable little - company that surrounded the deserted house in the wilderness, the hours - stepped silently on into eternity. The darkness slowly changed to - blackness; then the east brightened, the sky paled, the new day tossed its - first flaming spears, and the shivering dawn was upon them. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge got up very slowly,—for a new kind of pain was shooting - through his joints,—stretched, and, walking bent, like an old man, - cautiously made his way to Smiley's post. The sailor was awake; but - whether he had been awake all night could hardly be, decided from his - face. Beveridge had his suspicions, but decided not to air them. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Dick,” he began. - </p> - <p> - “All right. Go ahead.” - </p> - <p> - “How are your joints?” - </p> - <p> - “Never worse. How about yours?” - </p> - <p> - “Same way. I don't know how you feel, but I've had enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't help that, can we?” - </p> - <p> - “I can help it, and I'm going to.” - </p> - <p> - “I'd like to know how.” - </p> - <p> - “Keep your eyes open and you 'll see. I want you to stay here under - cover.” - </p> - <p> - “You aren't going to storm the house?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, that's just what I'm going to do.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you thought it over? He 'll shoot you know.” - </p> - <p> - “There are two ways of leaving this world, Dick, that I know of. One way - is to catch your death of rheumatism and go off slow; the other is to let - a man who can handle a revolver make a neat, clean job of it. I don't know - how you feel about it, but I prefer the neat way. Now you wait here while - I—” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Bill. Here we have him nicely penned and our plan of siege all - settled, when you up and change your tactics. I don't see the use of - putting yourself up for a target when we have him sure the other way.” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right, Dick.” - </p> - <p> - “Here's another thing. Wilson's out of the running—suppose he puts - you out too. What are Pink and I going to do? We have no authority to - arrest the man. I'm not even sure that it would be to our interest to try - it in such a case. Why not wait—just settle down to it. We can get - something to eat from Van Deelen. Say, didn't you tell him to follow us - with the wagon last night?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge indulged in a dry smile. “Yes, I did. But I didn't more than - half think he'd do it. You do as I tell you, Dick, and—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, if your mind's made up, I suppose—” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge's mind was made up. He set out without further words, and Dick - watched him, uncertain of his movements, until he saw that he was circling - around in the direction of the stump fence and Pink. Dick's thoughts were - unsettled. Such actions were foolhardy, now that it was nearly broad - daylight. It would have been no trick at all to put a few balls into the - body below the waving weeds that marked the progress of the special agent. - For some reason, however, the shots did not come. - </p> - <p> - Between Dick and the house there was a comparatively open space. By - stepping forward a few yards he would emerge into full view of the man in - the house, whereas on Pink's side the growth was rank, and Beveridge, if - he should go directly to the house after giving Pink his directions, would - not be visible until he should have nearly reached the door. But the - telltale weeds!—there was something in the thought of Beveridge - being shot down like a porcupine as he floundered through the tangle that - made Dick shudder. - </p> - <p> - It would be better to walk straight out into the open and be done with it. - </p> - <p> - Peering from his hiding-place, he could see that all was quiet. Beveridge - had reached Pink, and was probably talking with him. But he could not hear - their voices—the clearing was absolutely still. He watched—and - watched—his eyes fixed on the spot where Beveridge had stopped. - Perhaps his arguments had taken effect; perhaps the plan had been changed. - But no, the weeds were moving again. - </p> - <p> - Dick's blood was up. He drew his revolver and plunged straight out into - the open toward the house. - </p> - <p> - “Here you in there!” he shouted. “Come out or fight! Do you hear me? Come - out or fight! We've got you on all sides—you can't hit us all—come - out and be done with it.” - </p> - <p> - The house was still. Beveridge heard Dick's voice, and knew what he was - doing. He tried to run forward, tripped, and fell headlong in the briers, - cursing like a buccaneer. Pink heard both the voice and the tumble, and at - the instant he too was fighting madly forward through the weeds. Could he - be expected to obey orders? To sit and twiddle his thumbs while Dick was - fighting? Not a sound came from the house. - </p> - <p> - Dick walked deliberately to the door and hammered with the muzzle of his - revolver. - </p> - <p> - “Come out,” he called, “or I 'll smash it in.” He heard the man stir. - </p> - <p> - “Come out, or by——!” - </p> - <p> - The man was walking slowly across the floor. Dick went on shouting:— - </p> - <p> - “No tricks, now! Open your door! I've got a gun on you—I've got a - gun on you!” The rusty old key turned and the door swung back. As it - opened, Beveridge broke out of the weeds, with Pink close after, and the - three men stood bewildered, motionless, staring at the square-built figure - and quiet face of—Henry Smiley. - </p> - <p> - They could not speak. Even Beveridge had lowered his weapon. - </p> - <p> - “Put up your guns, boys,” said Henry, with a sort of smile. “Put up your - guns; I 'll go back with you.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV—HARBOR LIGHTS - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0386.jpg" alt="0386 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0386.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>EVERIDGE recovered - first, and said in a businesslike way, “You 'll have to give me your - weapons.” - </p> - <p> - Henry at once handed over two large-caliber revolvers, and emptied his - pockets of fully half a hundred cartridges. “It's a lucky thing for you, - Mister Beveridge,” he said, “that Dick came out just when he did. A minute - more and I should have finished you.” - </p> - <p> - But Beveridge's thoughts were not heading in the same direction. His reply - was, “Where's Spencer?” - </p> - <p> - “Spencer? You didn't get him?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Then he's in Canada.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I see.” Beveridge turned to Smiley. “Well, Dick, for a man that got - things exactly wrong, you came nearer to being right than I should have - thought possible.” - </p> - <p> - As they walked back toward Van Deelen's, Henry fell in with his cousin. - “You don't seem very talkative, Dick. Guess I must have surprised you.” - </p> - <p> - But Dick could not find his voice to reply. - </p> - <p> - “And you surprised me too, rather. How did you happen to be up here with - this man?” - </p> - <p> - “Then you don't know that he's holding me for Whiskey Jim?” cried Dick. - </p> - <p> - “No—is he?” - </p> - <p> - Dick, overcome with fatigue and emotion, nodded. Henry stopped and turned - to the special agent, who was walking close behind. - </p> - <p> - “You didn't think Dick here was in this business, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “We 'll discuss that later. Move along, please.” - </p> - <p> - “But this won't do, Beveridge. Dick has nothing to do with it, nothing - whatever.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose he didn't know where his schooner went and what he carried - aboard her, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can explain all that. He's all right. I'm the man you want.” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll talk with you again, Mr. Smiley. We can't stop now.” - </p> - <p> - They found Wilson in a bad way. Mrs. van Deelen had been doing her utmost - during the night for her two patients, but to attempt moving either was - out of the question. Beveridge left some money to cover the expense of - caring for his subordinate, and Henry good-naturedly contributed toward - the care of Estelle. It was arranged that Van Deelen should drive - Beveridge and his party back to Spencer's, stopping on the way to send - Lindquist or his boy to Hewittson for a doctor. Nothing more could be done - here, and so they hurried Van Deelen into hitching up at once. Beveridge - could not sleep in comfort until his prisoner should be safe under guard - on the revenue cutter. - </p> - <p> - “There's one thing,” said the special agent to Henry Smiley, as the four - haggard men climbed into the wagon that was to take them on the long drive - through the forest, “there's one thing I don't understand. Why didn't you - fellows pick up a horse at one of these places and drive, instead of - footing it,—with a woman along, too?” - </p> - <p> - “We did start in Spencer's wagon, but it broke down before we'd gone ten - miles, the road was so bad.” - </p> - <p> - “But we didn't see it,” said Pink. - </p> - <p> - “We must have passed it on the first stretch before we found the road.” - </p> - <p> - “And then,” said Henry, “I thought we'd better stick it out on foot. You - see, I didn't believe it would occur to you that we would take to the - woods. And even if it should, I thought we should have plenty of time - before you started after us. I misjudged it there, you see. I was thinking - hardest about the other end of it—about what we should do when we - got down into Indiana, with maybe your men on the lookout for us - everywhere. And then a horse is a give-away—you can't hide it. And - the road is so heavy with sand that it's 'most as quick to walk. I thought - it all over and decided it that way. So we dragged the wagon off into the - bushes, and led the horse off and shot him. But why didn't you ride?” - </p> - <p> - “We didn't get a chance until we reached Lindquist's. And then we were so - close on your trail—and I knew you were on foot—that I decided - the same way. If we had been rattling along in a wagon, you might have - heard us quarter of a mile ahead, and all you would have had to do then - would be to step into the bushes and let us go by.” - </p> - <p> - At a few minutes before noon the party alighted from the wagon at - Spencer's wharf, where the <i>Merry Anne</i> still lay, waved a signal to - the launch, and were carried out past False Middle Island to the <i>Foote</i>. - </p> - <p> - “I guess there isn't much doubt what we 'll do next,” said Beveridge, with - a yawn, as the launch drew near to the companion-ladder, which had been - let down forward of the paddle-wheel. - </p> - <p> - “I guess there ain't,” Pink replied with another yawn. - </p> - <p> - “One thing, Dick,” said Beveridge, “before we go away from here,—it - isn't right to leave your schooner in there for the porcupines to chew to - pieces.” - </p> - <p> - Dick, who had been studying the bottom of the boat, looked up quickly and - with a peculiar expression. After Henry's confession, would he be allowed - to sail her back himself? Beveridge caught the look, and for an instant - his face showed the faintest trace of confusion. “You see,” he went on, - “I've been thinking it over on the way back from Van Deelen's. It's rather - an irregular thing to do, but I'm willing, if Captain Sullivan will let us - have a few men, to turn the schooner over to Harper here. He's competent - to handle her, isn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes,” Dick replied in a dry voice, “he is competent enough.” - </p> - <p> - Pink's eyes brightened. “Sure thing,” he said, “I can run her easy.” - </p> - <p> - Dick glanced at Pink, then dropped his eyes again. The boy had heard only - the words; he had not caught the thoughts that were passing between his - captain and the special agent. To Dick this decision, coming in the lull - after the excitement, coming after what seemed to him proof of his - innocence, sounded like the judge's sentence. Through the hour or two that - followed, during the dinner on the steamer, after the launch had gone back - into the harbor with Pink and his crew, even when the old side-wheeler had - raised her anchor and started on her lumbering way around through the - Straits and up Lake Michigan to Chicago, Dick, lying dressed in his berth, - was trying to puzzle out the meaning of Beveridge's words and of the - momentary confusion that had accompanied them. And it did not raise his - spirits that, after each struggle with the problem, his thoughts were - directed to Annie. Perhaps Beveridge himself, if he had laid his thoughts - bare, could not have helped him much. For it was not reasoning that had - shown him the tactical folly of allowing Dick to come sailing gloriously - in to Annie's very front door,—red shirt, neckerchief, and all the - appurtenances of a hero; it was the instinct that made it impossible for - him to resist holding every advantage that came to his hand. Beveridge had - done a big thing. He had run down—killed or captured or driven out - of the country—several members of the most skilful gang in the - history of smuggling on the Great Lakes. He had done it alone. He was even - beginning to put down his surprise over the capture of Henry Smiley, and - to feel that Henry was the one man he had been after from the first. Yes, - he had made his success—the thing left was to win Annie. And to do - this he must not only see her before Dick could see her; he must also - arrange that Dick's appearance on the scene, when all the delays had been - exhausted, should be an inglorious one. Some of his finest work was yet to - come. In thinking it over, lying in his berth in the room next to Dick's, - their heads not two feet apart, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips. - And never had the <i>Foote</i> seen such sleeping as followed. When all - three men, accusers and accused, had slept through the afternoon and on - through the night, when they failed to hear even the breakfast gong, - Captain Sullivan began to wonder if they meant to wake at all. - </p> - <p> - Afterward, for a day or two, all three, Beveridge, Dick, and Henry, were - very quiet. They sat yawning in deck chairs, or dozed in their berths. But - during this time, thanks to the sunny skies and the peaceful lake, and - thanks to Beveridge's elation and good-nature, to Henry's surprising - cheerfulness, and to the difficulty Dick found in showing the depth of his - feelings, the relations of the three were growing more and more pleasant. - By common consent they avoided discussing the chase or its cause. - </p> - <p> - On the afternoon of the last day out, Dick and Beveridge sat smoking on - the after deck. The <i>Foote</i> was rumbling slowly down the coast - somewhere below Milwaukee, and should make Chicago before midnight if - nothing broke in the engine room. They were discussing the Michigan peach - crop when Henry drew up a chair and joined them. - </p> - <p> - “Would you mind telling me,” said Henry to Beveridge, filling his pipe as - he spoke, “what you are going to do with Dick, here?” So Henry was the one - to open the subject. Dick's lips drew together and his hand trembled, but - his eyes were steady. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge was evasive. “What am I going to do with him?” he repeated. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. You will have a good deal of say about that, won't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—yes, and no.” - </p> - <p> - “Now that you know he had nothing to do with it, you 'll be able to get - him right off, won't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—yes, so far as I know. I should expect it to turn out that - way.” - </p> - <p> - Henry saw that a definite answer was not to be expected, so he puffed a - moment, looking off to the green shore-line. Finally he said, “Your man,—what's - his name?” - </p> - <p> - “Wilson?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he's in pretty bad shape, isn't he?” - </p> - <p> - “There's no doubt about that.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think he 'll pull through?” - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't say.” - </p> - <p> - “What would be the penalty if he didn't?” - </p> - <p> - “That is for a judge and jury to decide.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - Henry paused again. Dick was gazing out at the water with fixed eyes. This - cool talk made him shudder. - </p> - <p> - “I've been thinking this over,” Henry went on. “Of course, you caught me - red handed; and that, along with what I'm going to tell you, any time when - you're ready, gives you a pretty clear case against me. My outlook isn't - what you would call cheerful. I've never made a will, but I guess now is - about as good a time as any to get about it. I've got my schooner, and - I've got a little money put away,—some of it drawing interest and - some in the bank,—and what there is of it is to go to Dick. He's the - nearest approach to a relation I have, you know. And if I were you, Dick, - I should take some of it the first thing and pay up for the <i>Anne</i>. - That 'll make you more or less independent. Do you fellows mind coming - down into the cabin and fixing it up now?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not,” said Beveridge, rising. - </p> - <p> - Dick found it difficult to reply, but he followed them below, and sat with - them at the dining-table. Beveridge got pen, ink, and paper. - </p> - <p> - “Now, I 'll tell you,” said Henry. “I 'll just make out sort of a schedule - of what I'm worth. It won't take long. I know just what it is. There, now, - I guess it 'll be enough to say that I devise and bequeath it all, without - any conditions or exceptions, to Dick, he to take everything of mine for - his own, to hold and to use in any way that he may choose. Will you - witness this, Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “We ought to have some others.” - </p> - <p> - “I 'll get them.” Beveridge stepped out, and returned shortly with Captain - Sullivan and his second officer. These put their signatures under that of - the special agent and with the exchange of only a word or two returned to - their posts. Nothing could have been more matter-of-fact, could have - savored more strongly of humdrum, everyday life. - </p> - <p> - The three men sat there looking at the paper. Finally Henry, with a smile, - blotted it, folded it, and handed it to his cousin. “I'm going to hand - this over to you, Dick,” he said. “That's the easiest way of disposing of - it.” - </p> - <p> - Dick accepted it and turned it slowly over and over in his hands. “I—of - course, Henry—I appreciate this, but—” and then his face - surged with color, and he broke out in a round voice: “What's the use of - talking of this sort of thing now! Wilson isn't gone yet. I don't believe - he will go either. You make my blood run cold! You'd better just—” - </p> - <p> - “No,” Henry interrupted. “No, I'd rather leave it like this.” - </p> - <p> - “But, look here, Henry,—why, great guns! You aren't even convicted - of illicit distilling yet, let alone—why, even if you should be, - don't you see, you might lose a few years, but—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there wouldn't be any doubt about the conviction, Dick. The game is - up, so far as I am concerned. Supposing I should escape, what good would - it do me? I should be a fugitive. I should have to leave the country, and - go to a new place and begin all over again, just as I began here on the - Lakes twenty odd years ago. I have amounted to something here,—I - have held first place. I have kept these fellows,”—he indicated - Beveridge, with a slight upward turn at the corners of his mouth—“I - have kept these fellows guessing from the start. Anywhere else I should be - nobody, and at my age that doesn't appeal very strongly to a man. - Supposing, even, I could buy an acquittal and stay right on here, would it - be any better? You see, my boy, I have been ambitious in a way. I have - built up a machine—a new kind of a machine. If I could have been let - alone a year or so longer, I should have had everything running as smooth - and safe as the Republican County Committee. That was the one thing I set - out to do. But it's busted now. With these fellows once on to the whole - thing, it could never be carried on again. Oh, in a cheap, shyster way, - maybe; but that's not my way. It was my work and now it's over. And when a - man has come as near success as I have, and spent the best part of his - life working up toward it, he doesn't care about beginning at the little - end of something else. His mainspring is broken.” - </p> - <p> - They were silent. Henry was easily the most self-possessed of the three. - Finally Beveridge said:— - </p> - <p> - “You have spoken once or twice, Mr. Smiley, about telling us how you - worked this business.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, certainly, any time,—now, if you like.” - </p> - <p> - “You won't mind if I take down the main points and then ask you to put - your name to it?” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. I supposed of course you would want to do that.” - </p> - <p> - This cold-blooded courtesy brought Dick near to shuddering again. But he - straightened up in his chair and prepared to listen. - </p> - <p> - “You say you are the man known as Whiskey Jim?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. That is the name the papers have given to the whole organization, - and the organization, of course, is me.” - </p> - <p> - “Would you mind talking rather slowly? I know shorthand, but I'm decidedly - out of practice at it.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not. Suppose I explain the organization in a few words.” - </p> - <p> - “That 'll do first-rate.” - </p> - <p> - “If I forget and get to going too fast, just stop me. You see, as master - of the <i>Schmidt</i>, doing a tramp lumber business all around Lake - Michigan and Lake Huron, I was able to run the whole thing at both ends - and still keep about my business. I didn't have to use the mails—I - didn't have to do a thing that didn't look as solemn and proper as the - Methodist minister and his parish calls.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. It was ingenious—no doubt about it.” - </p> - <p> - “To be on the safe side, I located my stills over in Canada.” - </p> - <p> - “I know,—at Burnt Cove.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; it was about as inaccessible there as any place on the Lakes. And as - we didn't try to sell the stuff over there, but shipped it all across to - the States, we were really safe enough. I don't know what either country - could have done about it, so far as the stills are concerned.” - </p> - <p> - “Suppose I take it up here, Mr. Smiley, do you mind?” - </p> - <p> - “No, go ahead.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, when you had got it put up and ready to ship, you brought it across - Lake Huron in Spencer's schooner.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—yes.” - </p> - <p> - “And at Spencer's it was repacked in the timber.” - </p> - <p> - Henry smiled a little at this. “Some of it was. Of course you know better - than to think that what I could bring down in a load of timber once in a - month, or two, or three, was my only way of getting the goods to market.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, of course.” - </p> - <p> - “I have done things on a fairly large scale, you know. But you are right - in the main. Spencer's was the distributing point for all our goods. The - old man himself was what you might call the shipping clerk of the - organization. But we 'll go ahead with the timber scheme. That one line, - if you follow it up, will be enough to base your case on, won't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, for the present. Though you were concerned in the attempt to run a - pipe line under the Detroit River.” - </p> - <p> - “No, not very deep. I put a little money into it, but when I saw who was - running it, I got out. I knew they would get nipped sooner or later. They - went at it wrong.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you brought your loaded timbers to the pier at Lakeville. From - there they were hauled by wagons to Captain Stenzenberger's yards. - Stenzenberger, working through Mc-Glory, distributed the stuff in - Chicago.” Henry shook his head with a touch of impatience. “You're getting - off the track there. Stenzenberger had nothing to do with it. I fooled him - through some of his men.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge looked incredulous. “So that's the way you want it to go down, - is it?” - </p> - <p> - “That's the way it was.” - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, Smiley, but that's absurd. I already have a case against - Stenzenberger. Even if I hadn't, it would outrage common-sense to state - that this man, a lumber merchant, could handle quantities of hollow - timbers, could have them right there under his nose all this time, without - knowing it.” But Henry was stubborn. - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” added Beveridge, “this is your statement. I will take down - just what you choose to say.” - </p> - <p> - “You've got about enough there, I should imagine. Oh, about Wilson! I was - in the bushes just below the bridge, when he started to run around the - house, and I shot him. There, now, with the confession of the smuggling - and the shooting, you ought to have a case. Copy it out, put it in the - right legal shape, and I 'll sign it. All but the Stenzen-berger part. I - admit nothing about him.” - </p> - <p> - “All right. I 'll put it down as you want. It makes no difference to me, - for you can never save him.” - </p> - <p> - “One thing, Henry,” said Dick, “that I don't understand. What was McGlory - after when he ran the <i>Anne</i> up to Burnt Cove that time?” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory,” Henry replied, “was a fool. When you first told me about it, I - didn't know what to think myself, but after thinking it over, and from the - way he has talked since when he was a little drunk, I think I have made it - out. He has been planning for some time to skip with this Estelle—desert - his wife. He arranged it with her that time he came up with you. And as - what ready money he had was down in Chicago, where he couldn't very well - get at it without his wife knowing it, he took the chance of getting to - Burnt Cove while you were sleeping off—” Henry smiled. “I guess old - Spencer served you some pretty strong fluids up there that day. Well, - anyway, McGlory thought he could take quite a lot of the stuff aboard, - sell it through one of our regular trade channels, and get off with the - money without going home. He couldn't get it into his head that you really - knew nothing about the business. It was a crazy thing to do.” - </p> - <p> - “I should think so.” - </p> - <p> - “McGlory and Roche are pretty good examples of the sort of thing I have - had to contend with. I've never been able to get good reliable men to work - for me.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge wanted to smile over the incongruity in this speech, but he - controlled himself and listened soberly. Henry went on:— - </p> - <p> - “If I could have handled it alone, or with only Spencer to help, you would - never have got me. But with such a big business, I had to employ a good - many men. That was my weak spot. I've known it all along and dreaded it, - but I had to run the risk. There's a risk in every business, and that was - the risk in mine. No, sir, if I could have had competent men, I should be - laughing to-day at the whole revenue system.” - </p> - <p> - “I should take exception to that, Smiley,” said Beveridge. “Your men - weren't the only thing that gave you away, not by any means.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, weren't they?” - </p> - <p> - “No, the most important clew was the label you used. But say, Smiley, here - is what puzzles me. Why is it that you, a man of unusual ability, haven't - put in your time at something respectable? The brains and work you have - wasted on smuggling would have made you a comfortable fortune in some - other line.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by 'respectable,' Beveridge,—politics, trading, - preaching?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess you recognize the distinction.” - </p> - <p> - “On the contrary, I don't recognize it at all. I asked for information.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, there is no use opening up that question. We all know the - difference between right and wrong, honesty and dishonesty.” - </p> - <p> - “Do we? Do you?” - </p> - <p> - “I have always supposed I did.” - </p> - <p> - “You're an unusual man. I congratulate you.” - </p> - <p> - “See here, Smiley, this is interesting. You don't mean to say that you - consider smuggling an honorable business?” - </p> - <p> - “Why not?” - </p> - <p> - “Why not! Why—why—” - </p> - <p> - “It might clear your ideas, Beveridge, to go into this question a little. - Smuggling means, I suppose, the bringing of merchandise from, say, Canada - to this country.” - </p> - <p> - “Dutiable merchandise, yes.” - </p> - <p> - “What makes it dutiable?” - </p> - <p> - “The law.” - </p> - <p> - “What makes the law?” - </p> - <p> - “The law is made by the people.” - </p> - <p> - “What people?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, see here, Smiley, this—” - </p> - <p> - “No, wait a minute. The trouble with you is you don't do your own - thinking; I 'll do a little for you. Take an imaginary case: There is a - little group of men in this country who manufacture, say, tacks. As every - man should, they are looking out for their own interests. They are out to - make money. The tacks mean nothing to them, except as they can be turned - into money. That is right and proper, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “Now suppose, among them all, they employ a good many thousand men in - their tack factories, all of them voters. Suppose they're rich, and ready - to contribute a neat little sum to the campaign fund. Now then, if any - other group of men start up, just over the Canadian line, where labor is - cheaper, making tacks, and underselling our tack market, the natural thing - for our tack men to do is to go to their representatives in Congress and - say, 'Here, if you want our votes and our money, you must pass a law - putting a duty on tacks.' Why do they say this? Because with such a law - they can make more money. The people aren't helped by it, mind you; the - people have to pay all the more. The only men to profit by it are the - little group of tack manufacturers who want to get rich and fat at the - expense of this public you talk about. Now do the Congressmen fall into - line and pass the law? Certainly. Why? Because <i>they</i> are helped by - it. They get the votes and the money contributions—and probably a - neat bribe besides. All this while, mind you, the people are out of the - game. They are being robbed by a law that was made entirely to enrich a - little group of men. These bribe givers and takers put up a job on us, the - most dishonest kind of a job, and yet you seem to think I'm dishonest, - too, because I follow their example and look out for number one.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on, Smiley, there's a fallacy there—” - </p> - <p> - “Where? Point it out. I'm doing an honest business. The stuff I sell is - well made. Do you suppose I care what your government people think? Why, - the whole government system is a network of bribes and rake-offs and - private snaps.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, if you're an anarchist—” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Beveridge, this talk seems to be rather personal—suppose - we make it more so. Let's see if we can't find out what your motives are - in this business. Are they Christian, or patriotic, or are you, like - myself and the tack men, and the law-makers, looking out for number one? - The man that was out here before you came I bought off. But it didn't take - me long to see that you couldn't be bought. Now why? That's the question. - </p> - <p> - “Was it because you have principles against it? Not at all. Don't get mad. - I don't doubt a minute that you have some principles that you learned in - Sunday-school; but Lord, when a man's grown up and has his living to fight - for, do you think the Sunday-school has any chance. So, you see, I thought - it over, and reasoned it out about like this: You and the other man were - both ambitious, but where he wanted money, you want position. It's to your - interest to keep the confidence of your superiors. That's why I couldn't - buy you; it's all right, you've done a good job, but don't try to persuade - yourself that your integrity is armor plate, that you've been doing right - for the good of the Sunday-school or from patriotic motives. Just because - you happen to be on the winning side, because your gang happens to be on - top, don't make the mistake of thinking you're better than the rest of us. - For you aren't.” - </p> - <p> - Dick saw that Beveridge's tongue was trembling with a keen retort, and he - broke in, “But you haven't told how I was worked into this, Henry.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that's simple. I wanted to boost you along in the world, but you were - young and had notions. So I thought if I could once make you bring down a - load of the stuff without knowing it, you would find yourself in for it, - and then I could make you see things in the right proportions. I wanted - you, bad. With one such man as you, I could have fooled them forever.” He - paused and added meditatively: “And I would have made you a rich man, - Dick. But just when I had it arranged, you came and told me that you had - gone daffy over Cap'n Fargo's little girl, and I saw I had as good as lost - you. Yes, sir, I could have made your fortune. Well, anyhow, you 'll get - something out of it, after—” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge rose to go to his room, gathering up the papers. “I'm going to - write this out now, boys. I 'll see you later.” - </p> - <p> - Late in the evening the statement was ready. Henry read it through, - suggested a few emendations, and signed it. Then the three went on deck. - </p> - <p> - Far down on the southwestern horizon was a row of twinkling lights. Above - them, in the sky, was spread a warm glow. - </p> - <p> - “We're getting along,” said Henry. “There's Chicago.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, is it?” exclaimed Beveridge with interest. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. We 'll soon be in. Isn't it about time to put the handcuffs on me?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge smiled. “That will hardly be necessary.” - </p> - <p> - “But Chicago's a bad town. I might get away from you.” - </p> - <p> - “We won't worry about that.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you carry the things on you? I never saw any.” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge drew a pair from his hip pocket, and handed them to Henry. - </p> - <p> - “How do they work?” - </p> - <p> - “Easily. Slip them on—this way.” - </p> - <p> - There was a click and Henry's hands were chained together. - </p> - <p> - “That's easy enough, isn't it?” said he, walking a few steps up and down - the deck, surveying himself. Then he went to the rail and leaned on it, - looking silently off toward the lights. - </p> - <p> - Just what came next, Dick never could remember. He had turned away to gaze - at the alternating red-and-white lights that marked Grosse Pointe and - home, so that he saw little more than Henry's swift movement and - Beveridge's start. An instant more and he was standing at the rail with - Beveridge, in the place where Henry had been standing a moment before—gazing - down at the foam that fell away from the bows. He heard the special agent - sing out: “Stop her, stop her, Cap'n! Man overboard!” He was conscious - that the engines had stopped; and he heard the Captain's voice from the - bridge: “No use! He went under the wheel!” Then came the order to lower a - boat, and the rush of feet across the deck. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV—IN WHICH BEVERIDGE SURPRISES HIMSELF - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0416.jpg" alt="0416 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0416.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>ICK and Beveridge - stood on the wharf at Chicago. The lights that wavered over their faces - from the lanterns of the Foote and from the arc lamp overhead showed them - sober, silent. The <i>camaraderie</i> of the chase and of the voyage that - followed had ceased to be. Beveridge's elation had been subdued by the - distressing event of the evening, but still the mind behind his decorously - quiet face was teeming with plans and schemes. Dick was gloomy, - bewildered. Both seemed to be waiting for something. They stood watching - the bustle aboard the revenue cutter as the crew made her snug for the - night, until finally Dick spoke:— - </p> - <p> - “You haven't told me yet what I'm to do next, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - “What you're to do next?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—yes. You see—” - </p> - <p> - “Go on. I'm listening.” - </p> - <p> - But Dick found it hard to go on. “I didn't know but what—” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge turned abruptly at a noise up the street, placed two fingers in - his mouth, and whistled. And after a moment Dick saw what had kept him - waiting. It was no sense of delicacy. Beveridge had been looking for a - carriage. “Get in, Smiley,” he said, when the driver pulled up. - </p> - <p> - “Get in?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—after you.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean, then—” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what?” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't suppose after what has happened that you'd need me any longer.” - </p> - <p> - “Not need you, Smiley?” They were seated within the vehicle now, the door - was shut, and the driver, the special agent's whispered word in his ear, - was whipping up his horses. “I'm afraid you don't understand. I have no - authority to let you off.” - </p> - <p> - It was his manner more than his words that suddenly swept away Dick's - delicacy and aroused his anger. “The hell you haven't!” was his reply. - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't expect me to believe that. You have no case against me now.” - </p> - <p> - “I grant you that. And I can promise you that you won't be detained more - than a few days at the outside. But this business has passed up out of my - hands now. All I can do is to deliver you up, make my report, and set the - machinery in motion for your release.” - </p> - <p> - Dick sat motionless, gazing into the shadows before him. “What right had - you to let Pink go, then?” - </p> - <p> - “That was different.” - </p> - <p> - “How?—How?” - </p> - <p> - “Nobody ever looked on Harper as of any importance in the business.” - </p> - <p> - “That is no answer. You're holding me on a technicality. The importance of - the man makes no difference when you are dealing in red tape.” - </p> - <p> - “See here, Smiley, don't you think you had better stop abusing me, and - take a sensible view of it?” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke, they were crossing State Street, and the brighter light - illuminated the interior of the carriage. For reply, Dick turned and - looked at his custodian, looked him through and through with a gaze of - profound contempt. Words were not necessary; Beveridge saw that Dick had - fathomed his motives, Dick saw that he was understood. At the moment - neither was thinking of the gloomy city that was closing in around them; - for both saw the wide, free beach, the gleaming lake, the two long piers, - the quaint little house on stilts, the upper balcony with its burden of - forget-me-nots and geraniums and all the blossoms that Annie loved. And - both had in their nostrils the refreshing smell of the east wind—made - up of all the faint mingled odors of Lake Michigan—a little pine in - it, a little fish in it, but, more than all, the health and strength and - wholesome sweetness of the Lakes. And both were silent while the carriage - rattled along, while they stepped out, crossed the walk, and entered a - stone building with barred windows, while, with Beveridge on one side and - a guard on the other, Dick walked to his cell. - </p> - <p> - Beveridge caught the half-past eight train for Lakeville the next morning, - and walked straight down to the house on stilts. Annie was out on the - lake, her mother said, looking at him, while she said it, and after, with - doubtful, questioning eyes. So he sat down on the steps and looked out - over the beach and the water. It was a fine warm day, with just breeze - enough to ripple, the lake from shore to horizon, and set it sparkling in - the sun. The sky was blue and white; and the cloud shadows here and there - on the water took varied and varying colors—deep blue, yellow, - sea-green. The shore-line dwindled off to the northward in long scallops, - every line of the yellow beach cut out cleanly, every oak on the bluff - outlined sharply. In truth, it was a glorious day—just the day - Beveridge would have chosen had the choice been his—the day of days, - on which he was to make the last arrangements in clinching his success, in - assuring his future. Annie had gone out to the nets with her father. She - was, at the moment, rowing him in. On other days Beveridge had sat here - and watched her coming in from the nets, with a great box of whitefish - aboard. - </p> - <p> - The boat grounded on the sand. Captain Fargo stepped out and drew it up. - Beveridge rose and smiled lazily while he waited for Annie to come up to - the steps. The sun had been in her eyes, and at first she did not see him - distinctly. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Beveridge, “hello! Didn't expect to see me, did you?” - </p> - <p> - She stopped abruptly and looked at him. He did not know just how to - interpret her expression. - </p> - <p> - “Aren't you going to speak to me, Annie?” Her answer, when it came, - blanketed him, and left him, so to speak, flapping in the wind. She said, - “What have you done with Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “Dick? Why—oh, he's all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Why hasn't he been back?” - </p> - <p> - “He 'll be around all right. They thought it would be necessary to hold - him for a few days.” - </p> - <p> - “To hold him,—where?” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you see—” - </p> - <p> - “Is he in prison?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but that will be fixed—” - </p> - <p> - “In Chicago?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he—” - </p> - <p> - “Father,” said she, “Dick's in prison. We must go down to see him.” And - she turned back to Beveridge with the question, “When can we get a train?” - </p> - <p> - What could Beveridge do but fumble in his pockets, bring out a handful of - papers, look them over until he found a time-table, and announce that the - next train was the ten-twelve? - </p> - <p> - “You will have to show us how to get there, Mr. Beveridge,” said Annie. - “Come and change your clothes, father. Will you wait here, Mr. Beveridge?” - </p> - <p> - Beveridge said that he would, certainly. And then when father and daughter - had hurried into the house, and after Captain Fargo had turned his box of - fish over to a boy who acted on occasions as his helper, the special agent - sat down again and looked at the Lake. The sun was shining on, bright as - ever; the water was still varicolored, the sky still blue-and-white; but - he saw them not. - </p> - <p> - In something more than twenty minutes Annie was down and waiting - impatiently for her father. Her whole mind was bent on getting to town. - She hardly saw Beveridge. As for him, chagrined as he was, he had to admit - that she looked very pretty in her trim blue gown. He had never before - seen her dressed for the city. He was inclined to feel awed as well as - bewildered. Then, finally, appeared the Captain in his Sunday clothes. And - the three set out for the train and Dick. - </p> - <p> - All the way Annie was preoccupied. Hardly a word could Beveridge get. From - the train they hurried over to the stone building with the barred windows. - Here the special agent held a short, whispered conversation which ended in - the unbarring of doors and the word to follow down a corridor. And finally - the last door was opened and Dick stood before them, dishevelled, - unshaven, but indisputably Dick. Beveridge found himself slipping into the - background when Annie and the prisoner were clasping hands without a word; - but he watched them. He saw the question in Dick's eyes,—the - something deep and burning, the something that was <i>not</i> a question, - in Annie's. He saw that she did not think of withdrawing her hand; he knew - that in one short moment more her arms would be thrown around Dick's neck. - He turned away, and, leaving them there, walked out into the street. - </p> - <p> - The lights were out at “The Teamster's Friend.” It was ten o'clock at - night, and from Stenzenberger's lumber office on one corner through to the - corner at the farther end of the block the street was deserted. But - Beveridge, who slowly turned the corner by the lumber yard,—Beveridge, - who had passed the most turbulent day of his life trying to realize that - he had lost Annie,—knew where to look. Lonely, miserable, plunged - into dejection now that the strain was over, he turned into the driveway - that led to the sheds in the rear of the saloon, and, pausing, looked up. - Yes, there was a light in the upper rear window. He whistled. The curtain - went up a little way—some one was looking down. The curtain went - down again; the light slowly disappeared, leaving grotesque shadows on the - curtain as it was carried from the room. Steps sounded in the hall; the - bolt slipped back, and Madge stood in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Hello,” said Beveridge. “Here I am.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” cried Madge, with what sounded like a gasp of relief. She drew him - quickly in, closed and locked the door, and stood looking at him. - </p> - <p> - “I had to go out of town, Madge. I didn't get in till late last night. I - have some news for you.” - </p> - <p> - “Come in,” she said. And they went back into the dining room, where she - had set down the lamp. They took chairs on opposite sides of the table. - Madge rested her elbows on the red cloth, propped her chin on her two - hands, and waited. Beveridge, while he looked at her, was rapidly getting - back his self-possession. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Madge, there's a good deal to tell you. McGlory—” - </p> - <p> - She waited as long as she could, then exclaimed, in an uncertain voice: - “What about him? Where is he?” - </p> - <p> - “He's gone.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Nobody on earth can tell you that.” - </p> - <p> - She leaned across the table and caught his arm. “Is he dead?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, dead—and buried.” - </p> - <p> - She leaned back in her chair. She could not take her eyes from his face, - and yet she said nothing. It could not be said that her face showed a - trace of happiness, but there was, nevertheless, a strange sort of relief - there. - </p> - <p> - For a long time neither spoke. But Beveridge's impetuous nature could not - long endure this silence. “Well, Madge,” he broke out, “do you still want - me?” - </p> - <p> - She did not answer. - </p> - <p> - “That's what I've come to know. If you 'll do it, we will be married - to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “You couldn't—” her voice was low and dreamy. “You couldn't get a - license before to-morrow,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “It's queer,” said Dick, “but that is the Beveridge of it. You can't tell - what he is going to do next. I don't believe he knows himself half the - time.” - </p> - <p> - The <i>Captain</i>, with Annie at the tiller and Dick stretched lazily out - beside her, was skimming and bounding along off the Grosse Pointe light. - </p> - <p> - “Wasn't it—” Annie wore a conscious expression—“wasn't it - rather sudden?” - </p> - <p> - “It must have been. But that is Beveridge.” - </p> - <p> - “And she was a saloon keeper's wife?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,—but it wasn't so bad as it sounds when you say it that way. - She was too good for McGlory.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you—you know her?” - </p> - <p> - “I've seen her, yes.” - </p> - <p> - “But isn't she—old?” - </p> - <p> - “Not so very. She can't be much older than Beveridge. She is good looking—almost - pretty. And she looks sort of—well, when you saw her there in - McGlory's place, it seemed too bad. She was quiet, and she looked as if - she was made for something better.” - </p> - <p> - They were silent for a time. Then their eyes met, and she missed his - answering smile. “What is it, Dick?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “I was thinking about Henry—about what he was, and then what he did - for me. We have everything to thank him for, you and I, Annie.” He paused, - then went on. “I suppose he was wrong—he must have been wrong if we - are to believe in law at all. But that night on the steamer, when he was - telling us about it, I watched him and Beveridge both pretty closely,—the - expression of their faces and their eyes. The way a man looks at you tells - so much, Annie. And I knew all the while, though Beveridge was standing - there for the law, and Henry for what they call crime, still—” - </p> - <p> - “What, Dick?” - </p> - <p> - “—if I were in a tight place again and had to choose which of those - two men to trust my life with, I shouldn't need to stop to think. It would - be Henry, every time.” - </p> - <p> - He sat up to shift his position, when something which he saw on the - northern horizon drove the clouds from his face. This was a great day for - Dick. “Look, Annie!” He was pointing eagerly. “Look there!” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Can't you see it—the <i>Anne?</i>” - </p> - <p> - Then Annie's heart leaped too. And she ordered Dick to ease off the sheet, - adding only, “We 'll meet her, shan't we?” To which Dick responded with a - nod. - </p> - <p> - So they headed north, with everything drawing full and the bubbles dancing - by. Pink saw them and came up into the wind. The <i>Captain</i> slipped - alongside, a sailor caught the painter, Dick handed Annie up, clambered - after, stepped to the wheel, and they swung slowly off. - </p> - <p> - “Make the boat fast astern,” called Dick to one of the revenue cutter men. - </p> - <p> - “All right, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Things gone all right, Pink?” - </p> - <p> - “First class. Not much wind in the Straits.” - </p> - <p> - “I hardly thought there would be.” - </p> - <p> - Annie was perched on the cabin trunk, looking at Dick with laughing eyes. - She enjoyed watching him, she liked his easy way of falling into the - command of his schooner, she admired the muscles on his forearm (for he - had rolled up his sleeves). He caught her glance. “Want to take her, - Annie?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, Dick. Will you let me?” - </p> - <p> - “If you want to.” - </p> - <p> - So Annie took the wheel. She stood there, a merry, graceful figure,—though - Dick kept close by and reached out a steadying hand now and then,—while - the schooner came about, headed for the long pier, ran up neatly into her - berth, threw out her lines, and stopped, her voyage over. - </p> - <p> - <i>[Note:—In the spring, when the ice broke up in the streams of - Michigan, a party of lumbermen found what had been the body of a man lying - in a shallow creek, deep in the forest. Particulars would be unpleasant. - It is enough to say that they buried him there, being rough men and far - from a coroner; and that on a water-soaked envelope in his pocket was - found a name which, as nearly as anything, seemed to spell “Roche.” To the - persons of this tale his end remained a mystery. It might be added that - Beveridge found more difficulty than he had foreseen in weaving his net - around Stenzenberger. In fact the special agent had failed, at last - accounts, to disturb the serenity of the lumber dealer, in spite of the - moral certainty that his share in the guilt was the largest of any. - Perhaps his secret went to the bottom of Lake Michigan with Henry Smiley.—S.M.]</i> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:40%;"> - <img src="images/0431.jpg" alt="0431 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0431.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry Anne, by Samuel Merwin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - -***** This file should be named 51916-h.htm or 51916-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/1/51916/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c8c7065..0000000 --- a/old/51916-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51916-h/images/enlarge.jpg b/old/51916-h/images/enlarge.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5a9bcf3..0000000 --- a/old/51916-h/images/enlarge.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51916.txt b/old/51916.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 96f9433..0000000 --- a/old/51916.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9725 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry Anne, by Samuel Merwin - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Merry Anne - -Author: Samuel Merwin - -Illustrator: Thomas Fogarty - -Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51916] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE MERRY ANNE - -By Samuel Merwin - -Illustrated by Thomas Fogarty - -The Macmillan Company - -1904 - - -[Illustration: 0010] - -[Illustration: 0011] - -[Illustration: 0012] - - - - -THE MERRY ANNE - -[Illustration: 9013] - -Dear H. K. TV.: - -This tale dedicates itself to you as a matter of right. For we grew up -together on the bank of Lake Michigan; and you have not forgotten, over -there in Paris, the real house on stilts, nor the miles we have tramped -along the beach, nor, I am sure, the grim old life-saver on the near -Ludington, and his sturdy scorn for our student life-savers at Evanston. -And the endless night on Black Lake, with Klondike Andrews at the tiller -and never a breath of wind, we shall not forget that. Once we differed: -I failed to tempt you into a paddle in the Oki, one fresh spring day -three years ago; but then, your instinct of self-preservation always -worked better than mine, as the adventure in the Swampscott dory will -recall to you. - -But, after all, these doings do not make up the reason why the story -is partly yours; nor do the changes in the text that sprang from your -friendly comment. I will tell you the real reason. - -[Illustration: 8014] - -Early, very early, one summer morning, you and I stood on the -wheel-house of the P'ere Marquette Steamer No. 4--or was it the No. 3--a -few hours from Milwaukee. The Lake was still, the thick mist was faintly -illuminated by the hidden sun. Of a sudden, while the steamer was -throbbing through the silence, a motionless schooner, painted blue, with -a man in a red shirt at the wheel, loomed through the mist, stood out -for one vivid moment, then faded away. - -That schooner was the Merry Anne; and the man at the wheel was Dick -Smiley. What if he should some day chance upon this tale and declare it -untrue? know better, for we saw it there. - -S. M. - - - - -CHAPTER I--DICK AND HIS MERRY ANNE - -THE _Merry Anne_ was the one lumber schooner on Lake Michigan -that always appeared freshly painted; it was Dick Smiley's wildest -extravagance to keep her so. Sky blue she was (Annie's favorite color), -with a broad white line below the rail; and to see her running down on -the north wind, her sails white in the sun, her bow laying the waves -aside in gentle rolls to port and starboard, her captain balancing -easily at the wheel, in red shirt, red and blue neckerchief, and slouch -hat, was to feel stirring in one the old spirit of the Lakes. - -It was a lowering day off Manistee. Out on the horizon, now and then -dipping below it, a tug was struggling to hold two barges up into the -wind. Within the harbor, at the wharf of the lumber company, lay the -_Merry Anne_. Two of her crew were below, sleeping off an overdose -of Manistee whiskey. The third, a boy of seventeen, got up in slavish -imitation of his captain,--red shirt, slouch hat, and all,--was at work -lashing down the deck load. Roche, the mate, stood on the wharf, the -centre of a little group of stevedores and rivermen. "Hi there, Pink," -he shouted at the red shirt, "what you doin' there?" - -The boy threw a sweeping glance lake-ward before replying, "Makin' -fast." - -"That 'll do for you. There won't be no start _this_ afternoon." - -"But Cap' Smiley said--" - -"None o' your lip, or I 'll Cap' Smiley you. - -"Pretty ugly, out there, all right enough," observed a riverman. -"Cornin' up worse, too. Give you a stiff time with all that stuff -aboard." - -"I ain't so sure about that," said Roche, with a swagger. "If _I_ was -cap'n o' this schooner, she'd start on the minute, but Smiley's one o' -your fair-weather sort." - -"Sure he is. He done a heap o' talkin' about that time he brung the -_William Jones_ into Black Lake before the wind, the day the _John T. -Eversley_ was lost; but Billy Underdown was sailin' with him then, and -he told me hisself that he had the wheel all the way--Smiley never done -a thing but hang on to the companionway and holler at him to look out -for the north set o' the surf outside the piers; and there's my little -Andy that ain't nine year old till the sixth o' September, could ha' -told him the surf sets south off Black Lake, with a northwest wind. If -it hadn't been for Billy, the Lord only knows where Dick Smiley'd be -to-day." - -A tug hand had joined the group, and now he addressed himself to Roche. - -"Cap'n Peters wants to know if you're a-goin' to try to make it, Mr. -Roche." - -"Not by a dam' sight." - -"Well--I guess he won't be sorry to wait till mornin'. What time do you -think you 'll want us?" - -"Six o'clock sharp." - -"Them's Cap'n Smiley's orders, is they?" - -"Them's _my_ orders, and they're good enough for you." - -"Oh, that's all right, of course, only Cap'n Peters, he said if 'twas -anybody else, he'd just tie up and wait, but there ain't never any -tellin', he says, what Dick Smiley 'll take it into his head to do." - -"You tell your cap'n that Mr. Roche said to come at six in the mornin'." - -"All right. I 'll tell him. Say--Cap'n Smiley ain't anywhere around, is -he?" - -"_No, Cap'n Smiley ain t anywheres around!_" mimicked Roche, angrily. -"If you want to know whereabouts Cap'n Smiley is, he's uptown -skylarkin', that's where _he_ is." - -The river hands laughed at this. - -"I reckon he's somethin' of a hand for the ladies, Dick Smiley is, with -them blue eyes o' his'n," said one. "I ain't a-tellin', you understand, -but there's boys in town here that could let you know a thing or two if -they was minded." - -As a matter of fact, Dick was at that moment in an up-town jewellery -shop, fingering a necklace of coral. - -"I want a longer one," he was saying, "with something pretty hanging on -the end of it--there, that's the boy--the one with big rough beads and -the red rose carved on the end." - -"Must be somebody's birthday, Captain," observed the jeweller, with a -wink. - -And Dick, who could never resist a wink, replied: "That's what. Day -after to-morrow, too, and I haven't any too much time to make it in." - -"Here's a nice piece--if she likes the real red." - -Dick took it in his hands and nodded over it. "I think that would please -her. She likes bright colors." He drew a wallet from a hip pocket and -disclosed a thick bundle of bills. - -"I shouldn't think you'd like to carry so much money on you, Captain, in -your line of work." - -"It isn't so much. They are most all ones." But the jeweller, seeing a -double X on the top, only smiled and remarked that it was a dark day. - -"Yes, too dark. I don't like it. Makes me think of the cyclone three -years ago April, when the _Kate Howard_ went down off Lakeville. I spent -three hours roosting on the topmast that day. It was black then, like -this. If it keeps up, you 'll have to turn on your lights in here." - -"Guess I will. It wouldn't hurt now. Well, good-by, Captain. Drop in -again next time you run in here." - -"All right. But there's no telling when that will be. I have to go where -Captain Stenzenberger sends me, you know." - -"You don't own your schooner yet, then?" - -"No; only a quarter of it. Well, good-by." And he left the shop with the -corals, securely wrapped, stowed in an inside pocket. - -The first big drops of rain were falling when he reached the schooner. -The deck was deserted, but he found Roche and his wharf acquaintances -settled comfortably in the cabin. Their talk stopped abruptly at the -sight of his boots coming down the companionway. - -"Why isn't the load lashed down, Pete?" he asked, addressing Roche. - -"Why--oh, it was lookin' so bad, I thought we'd better wait till you -come." - -"Where's the tug? Don't Peters know we want him?" - -The loungers were silent. All looked at Roche. - -"Why, yes--sure. He ain't showed up yet, though." - -"You ain't goin' to try to make it, are you, Cap'n?" asked a riverman. - -"Going to try? We _are_ going to make it, if that's what you mean." - -One of the men rose. "I'm going up the wharf, Cap'n. If you like, I 'll -speak to Peters." - -"All right. I wish you would. And say, Pete, you take Pink and see that -everything is down solid. I don't care to distribute those two-by-fours -all down the east coast." - -Roche went out, and the others got up one by one and took shelter in the -lee of a lumber pile on the wharf. A little later, when he saw the tug -steaming up the river, Roche shook the rain from his eyes and looked -long at the black cloud billows that were rolling up from the northwest, -then he slipped below and took a strong pull at his flask. The tug came -alongside, and then Roche sought Dick. - -"Cap'n, what's the use?" he said in an agitated voice. "Don't you -see we're runnin' our nose right into it? Why, if we was a -three-hundred-footer, we'd have our hands full out there. I don't like -to say nothin', but--" - -Smiley, his hat jammed on the back of his head, his shirt, now dripping -wet, clinging to his trunk and outlining bunches of muscle on his -shoulders and back, his light hair stringing down over his forehead, -merely looked at him curiously. - -"You see how it is, Cap'n, I--" - -"What are you talking about? All right, Pink, make fast there! Who's -running this schooner, you or me?" - -"Oh, I don't mean nothin', Cap'n; but seein' there ain't no particular -hurry--" - -"No hurry! Why, man, I've got to lay alongside the Lakeville pier by -Wednesday night, or break something. What's the matter with you, anyhow? -Lost your nerve?" - -"No, I ain't lost my nerve. And you ain't got no call to talk that way -to me, Dick Smiley." - -"Here, here, Pete, none of that. We're going to pull out in just about -two minutes. If you aren't good for it, I 'll wait long enough to tumble -your slops ashore. Put your mind on it now--are you coming or not?" - -"Oh, I'm cornin', Cap'n, of course, but--" - -"Shut up, then." - -The idlers on the wharf had not heard what was said, but they saw Roche -change color and duck below for another pull at his flask. - -The tug swung out into the stream; the _Merry Anne_ fell slowly away -from the wharf. - -"Call up those loafers, Pete," shouted Smiley, as he rested his hands -on the wheel. The two sailors, roused by a shake and an oath, scrambled -drowsily upon the deck with red eyes and unsettled nerves, and were -set to work raising the jib and double-reefing foresail and mainsail. -Captain Peters sounded three blasts for the first bridge, and headed -down-stream. - -Passing on through the narrow draws of the bridges and between the -buildings that lined the river, the _Merry Anne_ drew near to the long -piers that formed the entrance to the channel. And Roche, standing with -flushed face by the foremast, looked out over the piers at the angry -lake, now a lead-gray color, here streaked with foam, there half -obscured by the driving squalls. His eyes followed the track of one -squall after another as they tore their way at right angles to the surf. - -Already the _Anne_ had begun to stagger. At the end of the towing hawser -the tug was nosing into the half-spent rollers that got in between the -piers, and was tossing the spray up into the wind. - -One of the life-saving crew, in shining oilskins, was walking the pier; -he paused and looked at them--even called out some words that the wind -took from his lips and mockingly swept away. Roche looked at him with -dull eyes; saw his lips moving behind his hollowed hands; looked out -again at the muddy streaks and the whirling mist, out beyond at the two -barges laboring on the horizon, gazed at the white and yellow surf. Then -his eye lighted a little, and he made his way back to the wheel. - -"Don't be a fool, Dick," he shouted. "Just look a' that and tell me -you can make it. I know better. I'm an old friend, Dick, and I like you -better'n anybody, but you mustn't be a dam' fool. Ain't no use bein' a -dam' fool." - -"Who are you talking to?" - -"Lemme blow the horn, Dick.'Taint too late to stop 'em. We can get back -all right--start in the mornin'. Don't you see, Dick--" - -Smiley's eyes were fixed keenly on him for a moment; then they swept -to the windward pier. He snatched the horn from Roche's hand and blew a -blast. - -The sailors up forward heard it, and shouted and waved their arms. A tug -hand, seeing the commotion, though he heard nothing, finally was made -to understand, and Captain Peters slowed his engines. Smiley, meanwhile, -was steering up close to the windward pier. - -"Tumble off there, Pete," he ordered. "Quick, now." - -"What you going to do to me? Ain't goin' to put me off there, are you?" - -"Get a move on, or I 'll throw you off. There's no room for you here." - -"Hold on there, Dick; I ain't got no clothes or nothin'. And you owe me -my pay--" - -"You 'll have to go to Cap'n Stenzenberger about that. Here, Pink, heave -him off. Quick, now!" - -"Don't you lay your hand on me, Pink Harper--" - -But the words were lost. The young sailor in the red shirt fairly -pitched him over the rail. The life saver, running alongside, gave him -a hand. Captain Peters was leaning out impatiently from his wheel-house -door, and now at the signal he dove back and hurriedly rang for full -steam ahead; it was no place to run chances. And as the schooner passed -out into the open lake, leaving the lighthouse behind her, and soon -afterward casting off the tug, there was no time to look back at the -raging figure on the pier. Though once, to be sure, Dick had turned with -a laugh and shouted out a few lines of a wild parody on the song of the -day, "Baby Mine." - -The song proved so amusing that, when they were free of the tug and -were careening gayly off to the southwest with all fast on board and -a boiling sea around them, he took it up again. And braced at a sharp -angle with the deck, one eye on the sails, another cast to windward, his -brown hands knotted around the spokes of the wheel, he sang away at the -top of his lungs:-- - - "He is coming down the Rhine. - - With a bellyful of wine," - -Young Harper worked his way aft along the upper rail. His eye fell on -the figure of his captain, and he laughed and nodded. - -"Lively goin', Cap'n." - -Lively it certainly was. - -"Guess there ain't no doubt about _our_ makin' it!" - -"Doubt your uncle!" roared the Captain. And he winked at his young -admirer. - -"Guess Mr. Roche didn't like the looks of it." - -"Guess not." - -Harper crept forward again. And Smiley, with a laugh in his eye, squared -his chest to the storm, and thought of the necklace stowed away in the -cabin; and then he thought of her who was to be its owner day after -to-morrow, and "I wonder if we will make it," thought he; "I wonder!" - -And make it they did. Sliding gayly up into a humming southwest wind, -with every rag up and the sheets hauled home, with the bluest of skies -above them and the bluest of water beneath (for the Lakes play at April -weather all around the calendar), Wednesday afternoon found them turning -Grosse Pointe. - -The bright new paint was prematurely old now, the small boat was missing -from the stern davits, the cabin windows had been crushed in, and -one sailor carried his arm in a sling, but they had made it. Harper, -hollow-eyed, but merry, had the wheel; Smiley was below, snatching his -first nap in forty-eight hours, with the red corals under his head. - -"Ole," called Harper, "wake up the Cap'n, will you? I can't leave the -wheel. He said we was to call him off Grosse Pointe." - -So Ole called him, and was soon followed back on deck by another -hollow-eyed figure. - -"Guess it's just as well Mr. Roche didn't come along," observed the -boy, as he relinquished the wheel. "_He'd_'a' had all he wanted, and no -mistake." - -"He had enough to start with. There wasn't any room for drunks this -trip." - -As he spoke, Smiley was running his eye over the familiar yellow bluffs, -glancing at the lighthouse tower, at the stack of the water works -farther down the coast, at the green billows of foliage with here and -there a spire rising above them, and, last and longest, at the two piers -that reached far out into the Lake,--one black with coal sheds, the -other and nearer, yellow with new lumber. - -Between these piers, built in the curve of the beach and nestling under -the bluff, was a curious patchwork of a house. Built of odds and ends of -lumber, even, in the rear, of driftwood, perched up on piles so that the -higher waves might run up under the kitchen floor, small wonder that the -youngsters of the shore had dubbed it "the house on stilts." - -Old Captain Fargo (and who was not a "Captain" in those days!) had built -it with his own hands, just as he had built every one of the sailboats -and rowboats that strewed the beach, and had woven every one of the nets -that were wound on reels up there under the bluff. - -A surprisingly spacious old house it was, too, with a room for Annie -upstairs on the Lake side, looking out on a porch that was just large -enough to hold her pots and boxes of geraniums and nasturtiums and -forget-me-nots. - -Smiley could not see the house yet; it was hidden by the lumber piles on -the pier. But his eyes knew where to look, and they lingered there, -all the while that his sailor's sixth sense was watching the set of the -sails and the scudding ripples that marked the wind puffs. He wore a -clean red shirt to-day and a neckerchief that lay in even folds around -his neck. Redolent of soap he was, his face and hands scrubbed until -they shone. And still his eyes tried to look through fifty feet of -lumber to the little flowering porch, until a sail came in sight around -the end of the pier. Then he straightened up, and shifted his grip on -the spokes. - -The small boat was also blue with a white stripe. At the stern sat a -single figure. But though they were still too far apart to distinguish -features, Dick knew that the figure was that of a girl--a girl of a -fine, healthy carriage, her face tanned an even brown, and a laugh in -her black eyes. He knew, even before he brought his glass to bear -on her, that she was dressed in a blue sailor suit, with a rolling -blue-and-white collar cut V-shape and giving a glimpse of her round -brown neck. He knew that her black hair was gathered simply with a -ribbon and left to hang about her shoulders, that her arms were bared to -the elbow. He could see that she was carrying a few yards more sail than -was safe for a catboat in that breeze, and there was a laugh in his own -eyes as he shook his head over her recklessness. He knew that it would -do no good to speak to her about it; and her father and mother had never -been able to look upon her with any but fond, foolish eyes. - -Steadily the _Merry Anne_ drew in toward the pier; rapidly the -_Captain_--so Annie called her boat--came bobbing and skimming out to -meet her. A few moments more and Dick could wave his hat and shout, -"Ahoy, there!" And he heard in reply, as he had known that he should, a -merry "Ahoy, there! I 'll beat you in!" And then they raced for it, Annie -gaining, as she generally could, while the schooner was laboriously -coming about, and working in slowly under reduced sail. She ran in close -to the pier, came up into the wind, and waited there while the crew were -making the schooner fast. - -At length the stevedores started unloading the lumber and Dick was free. -He leaned on the rail and looked down at Annie who had by this time -come alongside; and he saw that she had a bunch of blue-and-white -forget-me-nots in her hair. - -"Well," she said, looking up, and driving all power of consecutive -thought out of Dick's head, as she always did when she rested her black -eyes full on his, "well, I beat you." - -"Take me aboard, Annie. I've got something for you." - -"All right, come down. You can take the sheet." - -Dick pushed off from the schooner's side and the _Captain_ filled away -toward the shore. - -"Hold on, Annie, come about. I don't have to go in yet." - -"Where do you want to go?" - -"I don't care--run out a little way." - -Annie brought her about and Dick watched her with admiring eyes. "Well, -now," he began, as they settled down for a run off the wind, "I didn't -know whether I was going to get here to-day or not." - -"It _was_ pretty bad." - -"You were thinking of me, weren't you, Annie?" - -She smiled and gave her attention to the boat. - -"Roche was drunk, and I had to leave him at Manistee." - -"You didn't come down shorthanded, did you, Dick,--in that storm?" - -He nodded. - -"But how? You couldn't have got much sleep." - -"I didn't get any till this noon." - -"Now, that's just like you, Dick, always running risks when you don't -have to." - -"But I did have to." - -"I don't see why." - -"What day's to-day?" - -A mischievous light came into her eyes, but her face was demure. -"Wednesday," she replied. - -"Yes, I knew that." - -"Why did you ask me, then?" - -"Oh, Annie, Annie! When are you going to stop talking that way?" - -Again the boat claimed all her attention. He leaned forward and dropped -his voice. - -"Don't you think I've waited most long enough, Annie?" - -"Now, Dick, be sensible." - -"But haven't I been sensible? Not a word have I said for two months. And -I told you then I would speak on your birthday." - -"So you really remembered my birthday?" - -"Remembered it, Annie! What a girl you are! Do you know how long I've -been waiting? And all the boys laughing? It's two years this month. It -was on your birthday that I saw you first, you know. And it wasn't a -month after that that I spoke to you. How could I help it? Who could -have waited longer? And you, with your way of making me think you were -really going to say yes, and then just laughing at me." - -"Now, Dick--if you don't stop and be sensible, I 'll take you straight -inshore." - -"Oh, you wouldn't do that, Annie?" - -"Yes, I would. I will now. Ready about!" The _Captain_ came rapidly up -into the wind, but stopped there with sail flapping; for Dick held the -sheet, and his hand had imprisoned hers on the tiller. - -"Now, Dick--Dick--" - -"Wait a minute. Don't be angry with me when I've risked the schooner -and everybody aboard her just so's to get down here on your birthday. -Promise me you 'll hold her in the wind while I get you your present." - -She hesitated, and looked out toward the horizon. - -"Promise me that, Annie, and I 'll let go your hand." - -"You--you've forgotten--what you promised--" - -"I know, I said I'd never take hold of your hand again until you put it -in mine--didn't I?" - -She nodded, still looking away. - -"And I've broken the promise. Do you know why, Annie? It's because when -you look at me the way you do sometimes, I could break every promise -I've ever made--and every law of Congress if I thought it would just -keep you looking at me." - -Not a word from Annie. - -"Promise me, Annie, that you 'll hold her here?" - -Still no word. - -"Won't you just nod, then?" - -She hesitated a moment longer, then gave one uncertain little nod. He -released her hand, held the sheet between his knees, drew the package -from his pocket, and displayed the corals. She was trying bravely not to -look around, but her glance wavered, and finally she turned and looked -at it with eager eyes. "Oh, Dick, did you bring that for me?" - -"I surely did." He held it up, and when she bent her head forward, he -slipped it over and around her neck. Her eyes shone as she ran the red -beads through her fingers and looked at the carved pendant. Dick leaned -back and watched her contentedly. Finally she let her eyes steal upward -and meet his, with a smile that was half roguish. "I never really -laughed at you, did I, Dick?" - -He moved forward with sudden eagerness. "Don't you think now is a good -time to say yes, Annie,--now, on your birthday? I own a quarter of the -schooner now, you know; and I'm ready to make another payment to-morrow. -And don't you see, when we're married you can help me to save, and -before we know it we can have a home and a business of our own." She was -bending over the corals. "You didn't really think you could save more -with--with me, than you could alone, did you, Dick?" - -"Yes, I'm sure of it. It will give me something to work for, don't you -see?" - -"But--but--" very shyly, this--"Haven't you anything to work for now?" - -"Oh, Annie, do you mean that--are you telling me you 'll give me the -right to work for you? That's all I want to know." - -"Now, Dick--please let go my hand--you promised, you know--" - -"What is a promise now! If you knew how you torture me when you lead me -on till I'm half wild and then change around till I don't know what I've -said or what you've said or hardly who I am--" - -"No, Dick, you mustn't--I mean it. We must go in. See, there's father on -the beach. It must be supper-time." - -"Wait a minute--I haven't half told you--" - -But she was merciless. The _Captain_ came about and headed shoreward. - -"Did you meet the revenue cutter anywhere up the Lake--the _Foote?_ She -was here yesterday." - -"There you are again, all changed around! What do I care about the -_Foote_--when I'm just waiting to hear you say the only word that can -make my life worth living. Now, Annie--" - -"You mustn't, Dick. I've let you say too much now. If you go on, you 'll -make me feel that I can't even thank you for your present." - -"Was that all? Were you only thanking me?" - -She nodded, and Dick's face fell into gloom. But when the _Captain_ was -beached, and Annie had leaped lightly over the rail, she turned and gave -him one merry blushing look that completely reversed the effect of her -reproof. And as she hurried up to the house, he could only gaze after -her helplessly. - - - - -CHAPTER II--THE NEW MATE - -[Illustration: 0046] - -IN the morning the _William Schmidt_, Henry Smiley, Master, came in -from Chicago and tied up across the pier from the _Merry Anne_. - -Henry, Dick's cousin, was a short, stocky, man, said to be somewhat of -a driver with his sailors. He seldom had much to say, never drank, was -shrewd at a bargain, and was supposed to have a considerable sum stowed -away in the local savings bank. Though he was wanting in the qualities -that made his younger cousin popular, he was daring enough in his quiet -way, and he had been known, when he thought the occasion justified it, -to run long chances with his snub-nosed schooner. - -After breakfast Dick walked across the broad pier between the piles of -lumber, and found Henry in his cabin. They greeted each other cordially. - -"Sit down," said Henry. "Did you come down through that nor'wester?" - -Dick nodded. - -"Have any trouble?" - -"Oh, no. Lost some sleep--that's all. You aren't going down to the yards -to-day, are you?" - -"Yes--I think likely. Why?" - -"I 'll go along with you. I'm ready to make another payment on the -schooner. I've been thinking it over, and it strikes me I'm paying about -three times what she's worth. What do you think? Would it do any harm to -have a little talk about it with the Cap'n? You know him better than I -do." - -Henry shook his head. "I wouldn't. He is too smart for you. He will beat -you any way you try it, and have you thanking him before he is through -with you. I have gone all over this ground before, you know. Of course -he is an old rascal--but I don't know of any other way you could even -get an interest in a schooner. You see, you haven't any capital. He will -give you all the time you want, and I don't know but what he's entitled -to a little extra, everything considered. But don't say anything, -whatever you do. You've got too good a thing here." - -"You think I ought to just shut up and let him bleed me?" - -"He isn't bleeding you. Just think it over, Dick. You are making a -living, and you already have a quarter interest in your schooner. You -couldn't ask much more at your age. Have you heard from him yet, by the -way?" - -"No." - -"He spoke to me the other day about wanting to see you when you came in. -There's another order to come down from Spencer." - -"Where's that?" - -"Up in the Alpena country." - -"Lake Huron, eh? Oh--isn't that where you went in the spring?" - -"Yes, I've been there. An old fellow named Spencer runs a little -one-horse mill, and he's selling timber and shingles. And from what -the Cap'n said, I don't think he'd care if you brought along a little -venture of your own. That's the way I used to do, when I was paying for -the _Schmidt_." - -"How could I do that?" - -"Spencer will give you a little credit. You can stow away a few thousand -feet, and clear twenty or thirty dollars. It helps along." - -"All right, I 'll try it. Are you sure the old man won't care?" - -"Oh, yes. He's willing enough to do the square thing, so long as it -keeps us feeling good and doesn't lose him anything." - -"Say--there's another thing, Henry. I fired Roche, up at Manistee." - -"Fired him?" Henry's brows came together. - -"Yes, I had to. I had stood him as long as I could." - -"I don't know what the Cap'n will say about that." - -"I'd like to know what he can say. I was in command." - -"Yes, I know--of course you had a right to; but the thing is to keep on -his good side. Suppose we go right down to the yards, and see if you can -get your story in before Roche's." - -"What does the Cap'n care about my men, I'd like to know!" - -[Illustration: 0051] - -"Now, keep cool, Dick. Roche, you see, used to work for him,--I don't -know but what they're related,--and it was because the Cap'n spoke to -me about him that I recommended him to you when I did. And look here, -Dick,"--Henry smiled as he laid a hand on his cousin's shoulder,--"I'm a -good deal older than you are, and you can take my word for it. Don't get -sour on things. Of course people will do you if they can; but it's human -nature, and you can't change it by growling about it. You are doing -well, and what you need now is to keep your eyes open and your mouth -shut. Why should you want to hurry things along?" - -A flush came over Dick's face. "There's a reason all right enough. You -see, Henry, there's a little girl not so very many miles from here--" - -"Oho!" thought Henry, "a little girl!" But his face was immobile, -excepting a momentary curious expression that passed over it. - -"Now don't get to thinking it's all fixed up, because it isn't--not yet. -But you see, I've been thinking that when I've got a little something to -offer--" - -"There's another thing you can take my word for, my boy," said Henry, -with a dry smile; "don't get impetuous. Marrying may be all right, but -it wants to be done careful." - -Captain Stenzenberger's lumber yard was a few miles away, at the Chicago -city limits. As the two sailors left the pier to walk up to the railway -station, Dick was glad to change the subject for the first one that came -into his head. "What do you suppose the _Foote_ has been doing here this -week, Dick? I heard she put in Tuesday or Wednesday." - -"Looking for Whiskey Jim, I suppose." - -"Oh, are they on that track again?" - -"Haven't you seen the papers?" - -"No--not for more than a week." - -"Well, it's quite a yarn. From what has been said, I rather guess it's -the liquor dealers that are stirring it up this time. There is a story -around that he has been counterfeiting the red-seal label on their -bottles. I think they're all off the track, though. Anybody could -tell 'em that there's no such man. Every time a case of smuggling comes -up, the papers talk about 'Whiskey Jim,' no matter if it's up at the -straits or down on the St. Lawrence." - -"But what's the trouble now?" - -"Oh, they're saying that this fellow is a rich man that has a big -smuggling system with agents all around the Lakes and dealers in the -cities that are in his pay,--sort of a smuggling trust." - -"Sounds like a fairy story." - -"That's about what it is. The regular dealers have taken up the fight to -protect their trade, and one or two of the papers in particular have put -reporters on the case, and all that sort of thing. And as usual they're -announcing just what they've done and what they're going to do. The old -_Foote_ is to make a tour of the Lakes, and look into every port. And if -there is any Whiskey Jim, I 'll bet he's somewhere over in Canada by this -time, reading the papers and laughing at 'em." Captain Stenzenberger was -seated in his swivel chair in his dingy little one-story office at the -corner of the lumber yard. His broad frame was overloaded with flesh. -His paunch seemed almost to rest on his thighs as he sat there, chewing -an unlighted cigar in the corner of his mouth,--a corner that had been -moulded around the cigar by long habit and that looked incomplete -when the cigar was not there. His fat neck--the fatter for a large -goitre--was wider than his cheeks, and these again were wider than his -forehead, so that his head seemed to taper off from his shoulders. A -cropped mustache, a tanned, wrinkled face and forehead, and bright brown -eyes completed the picture. When his two captains came in, he rested -his pudgy hands on the arms of his chair, readjusted his lips around the -cigar, and nodded. "How are you, boys?" said he, in a husky voice. "Have -a good trip?" This last remark was addressed to Dick. - -"First part was bad, but it cleared up later." - -"Did you put right out into that storm from Manistee?" - -"Yes--you see I had the wind behind me all the way down. Got to get a -new small boat, though." - -The "Captain" did not press the subject. In return for the privilege -of buying the schooner by instalments he permitted Dick to pay for the -insurance, so the young man could be as reckless as he liked. - -Dick now explained that he had come to make a payment, and the -transaction was accomplished. - -"Step over and have a drink, boys," was the next formality; and the two -stood aside while Stenzenberger got his unwieldy body out of the chair, -put on his hat, and led the way out. - -Adjoining the lumber yard on the west was a small frame building, -bearing the sign, "The Teamster's Friend." It had been set down here -presumably to catch the trade of the market gardeners who rumbled -through in the small hours of every morning. In the rear, backed up -against a lumber pile, was a long shed where the teams could wait under -cover while their drivers were carousing within. A second sign, painted -on the end of this shed, announced that Murphy and McGlory were the -proprietors of the "sample room and summer garden." The three men -entered, and seated themselves at a table. There was no one behind the -bar at the moment, but soon a woman glanced in through the rear doorway. - -Stenzenberger smiled broadly on her, and winked. "How d' do, Madge," he -said. "Can't you give us a little something with a smile in it,--one o' -your smiles maybe now?" - -She was a tall woman, with a full figure and snapping eyes,--attractive, -in spite of a crow's-foot wrinkle or so. She returned the smile, -wearily, and said, "I 'll call Joe, Mr. Stenzenberger." - -"You needn't do that now, Madge. Draw it with those pretty hands of -yours, there's a dear." - -So she came in behind the bar, wiping her hands on her apron, and -quietly awaited their orders. - -"What 'll it be, boys?" - -Dick suggested a glass of beer, but Henry smiled and shook his head. -"You might make it ginger ale for me." - -"I don't know what to do with that cousin of yours," said Stenzenberger -to Dick. "He's a queer one. I don't like to trust a man that's got no -vices. What _are_ your vices, anyhow, Smiley?" - -Henry smiled again. "Ask Dick, there. He ought to know all about me." - -Stenzenberger looked from one to the other; then he raised his foaming -glass, and with a "Prosit" and a stiff German nod, he put it down at a -gulp. - -"Been reading about the revenue case?" Henry asked of his superior. - -"I saw something this morning." - -"I've been quite interested in it. Billy Boynton told me yesterday that -they had searched his schooner. It's a wonder they haven't got after us -if they're holding up fellows like him. Do you think they 'll ever get -this Whiskey Jim, Cap'n?" - -"No, they talk too much. And they couldn't catch a mud-scow with that -old side-wheeler of theirs." - -"Guess that's right. The _Foote_ must have started in here before the -_Michigan_, and she's thirty years old if she's a day. The boys are all -talking about it down at the city. I dropped around at the Hydrographic -Office after I saw Billy, and found two or three others that had been -hauled over. It seems they've stumbled on a pipe-line half built under -the Detroit River near Wyandotte, and there's been a good deal of -excitement. There's capital behind it, you see; and a little capital -does wonders with those revenue men." - -Stenzenberger was showing symptoms of readiness to return to his desk, -but Henry, who rarely grew reminiscent, was now fairly launched. - -"They can't get an effective revenue system, because they make it too -easy for a man to get rich. It's like the tax commissioners and the -aldermen and the legislators,--when you put a man where he can rake off -his pile, month after month, without there being any way of checking him -up, look out for his morals. And where they're all in it together, no -one dares squeal. It's a good deal like the railway conductors. - -"You remember last year when the Northeastern Road laid off all but two -or three of its old conductors for stealing fares? Well, it wasn't a -month afterward that one of the 'honest' ones came to me and hired the -_Schmidt_ to carry a twelve-hundred-dollar grand piano up to Milwaukee, -where he lives. He had reasons of his own for not wanting to ship by -rail. No, sir, it wouldn't be hard for me to have sympathy with an -honest thief that goes in and runs his chances of getting shot or -knocked on the head,--that calls for some nerve,--but these fellows that -put up a bluff as lawmakers and policemen and revenue officers and then -steal right and left--deliver me!" - -"Well, boys, I guess I 'll have to step back. I'm a busy man, you know. -Have another before we go?" - -"One minute, Cap'n," said Dick. "There's something I want to talk over -with you, if you can spare the time." - -Stenzenberger sat down again. Henry, whose outbreak against the evils of -society had stirred up, apparently, some pet feeling of bitterness, now -sat moodily looking at the table. - -"It's about Roche, Cap'n," Dick went on. "I had to leave him at -Manistee." - -"Why?" - -"He drinks too much for me--I couldn't depend on him a minute. He bummed -around up there, and got himself too shaky to be any use to me." - -Stenzenberger, with expressionless face, chewed his cigar. "What did you -do for a mate?" - -"Came down without one." - -"Have you found a man yet?" - -"No--haven't tried. I thought you might have some one you could -suggest." - -"I don't know. You 'll want to be starting up to Spencer's place in a day -or so." He chewed his cigar thoughtfully for a moment, then dropped his -voice. "There's a man right here you might be able to use. Do you know -McGlory?" - -"No." - -"You do, Henry?" - -"Yes, he was my mate for a year." - -"Well," said Dick, "any man that suited Henry for a year ought to suit -me." - -"You 'll find him a good, reliable man," responded Henry, in an -undertone. "He has a surly temper, but he knows all about a schooner." - -"Well,--if he's anywhere around here now, we could fix it right up." - -Stenzenberger looked around. The woman had slipped out. "Madge," he -called; "Madge, my dear." - -She entered as quietly as before. - -"Come in, my dear. You know Cap'n Smiley, don't you?" - -No, she didn't. - -"That's a fact. He's never seen in sample rooms. He sets up to be better -than the rest of us; but I say, look out for him. And here's his cousin, -another Cap'n Smiley, the handsomest man on the Lakes." Dick blushed at -this. "Sit down a minute with us." - -She shook her head, and waited for him to come to the point. - -"Where's that man of yours, my dear? Is he anywhere around?" - -"What is it you want of him?" - -"I want him to know our young man here. I think they're going to like -each other. You tell him we want to see him." - -She hesitated; then with a suspicious glance around the group left the -room. - -In a moment McGlory appeared, a short, heavy-set man with high -cheek-bones, a low, sloping forehead, and a curling black mustache. He -nodded to Stenzenberger and Henry, and glanced at Dick. - -"Joe," said the lumber merchant, "shake hands with Cap'n Dick Smiley. -He's the best sailor between here and Buffalo, and the only trouble with -him is we can't get a mate good enough for him. A man's got to know his -business to sail with Dick Smiley. Ain't that so, Henry?" - -"I guess that's right." - -"And Henry tells me you're the man that can do it." - -This pleasantry had no visible effect on McGlory. He was looking Dick -over. - -"I don't know about that, Cap'n. I promised Madge I'd give up the Lake -for good." - -"The Cap'n here," pursued Stenzenberger, "is going to start to-morrow -or next day for Spencer, to take on a load of timber and shingles." His -small brown eyes were fixed intently on the saloon keeper as he talked. -"And I think we 'll have to keep him running up there for a good part of -the summer. Queer character, that Spencer," he added, addressing Dick. -"He has lived all his life up there in the pines. They say he was a -squatter--never paid a cent for his land. But he has been there so many -years now, I guess any one would have trouble getting him out. He has -got an idea that his timber's better than anybody else's. He cuts it all -with an old-fashioned vertical saw, and stamps his mark on every piece." - -"Why should it be any better?" - -"I don't know that it is, though he selects it carefully. The main thing -is, he sells it dirt cheap,--has to, you know, to stand any show against -the big companies. He's so far out of the way, no boats would take the -trouble to run around there if he didn't. Well, McGlory, we've got a -good thing to offer you. You can drop in here once a week or so, you -know, to see how things are running. Come over to the office with us and -we 'll settle the terms." Stenzen-berger was rising as he spoke. - -"Well, I don't know. I couldn't come over for a few minutes, Cap'n." - -"How soon could you?" - -"About a quarter of an hour." - -"All right, we 'll be looking for you. Here, give me half a dozen ten -cent straights while I'm here." - -McGlory walked to the door with them, and stood for a moment looking -after them. - -When he turned and pushed back through the swinging inner doors, he -found Madge standing by the bar awaiting him, one hand held behind her, -the other clenched at her side, her eyes shooting fire. - -He paused, and looked at her without speaking. - -"So you are going back to the Lake?" she said, everything about her -blazing with anger except her voice--that was still quiet. - -He was silent. - -"Well, why don't you answer me?" - -"What's all this fuss about, Madge? I haven't gone yet." - -"Don't try to put me off. Have you told them you would go back?" - -"I haven't told 'em a thing. I'm going around in a minute to see the -Cap'n, and we 'll talk it over then." - -"And you have forgotten what you promised me?" - -"No, I ain't forgot nothing. Look here, there ain't no use o' getting -stagy about this. I ain't told him I 'll do it. I don't believe I will do -it." - -"Why should you want to, Joe? Aren't you happy here? Aren't you making -more money than you ever did on the Lake?" - -"Why, of course." - -"Then why not stay here?" - -"There's only this about it," he replied, leaning against the bar, and -speaking in an off-hand manner; "Stenzenberger offers me the chance to -do both. I could be in here every few days--see you most as much as I do -now in a busy season--and make the extra pay clear." - -"Oh, that's why you have been thinking you might do it?" - -"Well, that's the only thing about it that--" He was wondering what was -in her other hand. "You see, I can't afford to get the Cap'n down on -me." - -"You can't? I should think _he_ would be the one that couldn't afford--" - -"Now see here, Madge." He stepped up to her, and would have slipped his -arm around her waist, but she eluded him. "I guess I 'll go over and see -what he has to offer, and then I 'll come back, and you and me can talk -it all over and see if we think--" - -"If _we_ think!" she burst out. "Do you take me for a fool, Joe McGlory? -Do you think for a minute I don't know why you want to go--and why -you mean to go? Look at that!" She produced a photograph of a pretty, -foolish young woman, and read aloud the inscription on the back, "To -Joe, from Estelle." - -An ugly look came into his eye. "I wouldn't get excited about that -kiddishness if I was you." - -"So you call it kiddishness, do you, and at your age?" - -"Well, so long now, Madge. I 'll be back in a few minutes." - -"Joe--wait--don't go off like that. Tell me that don't mean anything! -Tell me you aren't ever going to see her again!" - -"Sure, there's nothing in it." - -"And you won't see her?" - -"Why, of course I won't see her. She ain't within five hundred miles of -here. I don't know where she is." - -"You 'll promise me that?" - -"You don't need to holler, Madge. I can hear you. Somebody's likely to -be coming in any minute, and what are they going to think?" He passed -out into the back room, and she followed him. - -"How soon will you be back, Joe?" She saw that he was putting on his -heavy jacket--heavier than was needed to step over to the lumber office. - -"Just a minute--that's all." - -"And you won't promise them anything?" - -"Why, sure I won't. I wouldn't agree to anything before you'd had a look -at it." - -He watched her furtively; and she stood motionless, trembling a little, -ready at the slightest signal to spring into his arms. But he reached -for his hat and went out. - -She stood there, still motionless, until his step sounded on the front -walk; then she ran upstairs and knelt by the window that overlooked the -yards. She saw him enter the office. A few moments, and the two men who -had been with Stenzenberger came out and walked away. A half-hour, -and still Joe was in there with the lumber merchant. An hour--and then -finally he appeared, glanced back at the saloon, and walked hurriedly -around the corner out of sight. And she knew that he had slipped away -from her. The photograph was still in her hand, and now she looked at it -again, scornfully, bitterly. - -A man entered the saloon below, and she did not hear him until he fell -to whistling a music-hall tune. At something familiar in the sound a -peculiar expression came over her face, and she threw the picture on the -floor and hurried down. When she entered the sample room, her eyes were -reckless. - -The man was young, with the air of the commercial traveller of the -better sort. He was seated at one of the tables, smoking a cigarette. -His name was William Beveridge, but he passed here by the name of -Bedloe. - -"Hello, Madge," he said; "what's the matter--all alone here?" - -"Yes; Mr. Murphy's down town." - -"And McGlory--where's he?" - -"He's out too." - -He looked at her admiringly. Indeed, she was younger and prettier, for -the odd expression of her eyes. - -"Well, I'm in luck." - -"Why?" she asked, coming slowly to the opposite side of the table and -leaning on the back of a chair. - -But in gazing at her he neglected to reply. "By Jove, Madge," he broke -out, "do you know you're a beauty?" - -She flushed and shook her head. Then she slipped down into the chair, -and rested her elbows on the table. - -"You're the hardest person to forget I ever knew." - -"I guess you have tried hard enough." - -"No--I couldn't get round lately--I've been too busy. Anyhow, what was -the use? If I had thought I stood any show of seeing you, I would -have come or broken something. But there was always Murphy or McGlory -around." He could not tell her his real object in coming, nor in -avoiding the two proprietors, who had watched him with suspicion from -the first. "Do you know, this is the first real chance you've ever given -me to talk to you?" - -"How did I know you wanted to?" - -"Oh, come, Madge, you know better than that. How could anybody help -wanting to? But"--he looked around--"are we all right here? Are we -likely to be disturbed?" - -"Why, no, not unless a customer comes in." - -"Isn't there another room out back there where we can have a good talk?" - -She shook her head slowly, with her eyes fixed on his face. And he, of -course, misread the flush on her cheek, the dash of excitement in her -eyes. And her low reply, too, "We'd better stay here," was almost a -caress. He leaned eagerly over the table, and said in a voice as low as -hers: "When are you going to let me see you? There's no use in my trying -to stay away--I couldn't ever do it. I'm sure to keep on coming until -you treat me right--or send me away. And I don't believe that would stop -me." - -"Aren't you a little of an Irishman, Mr. Bedloe?" - -"Why?" - -She smiled, with all a woman's pleasure in conquest. "Why haven't you -told me any of these things before?" - -"How could I? Now, Madge, any minute somebody's likely to come in. I -want you to tell me--can you ever get away evenings?" - -"Of course I can, if I want to." - -"To-morrow?" - -"Why?" - -"There's going to be a dance in the pavilion at St. Paul's Park. Do you -ride a wheel?" She nodded. - -"It's a first-rate ride over there. There's a moon now, and the roads -are fine. Have you ever been there?" - -"No." - -"It's out on the north branch--only about a four-mile run from here. We -can start out, say, at five o'clock, and take along something to eat. -Then, if we don't feel like dancing, we can take a boat and row up the -river." - -She rested her chin on her hands, and looked at him with a half smile. -"Do you really mean all this, Mr. Bedloe?" - -For reply, he reached over and took both her hands. "Will you go?" - -"Don't do that, please. Do you know how old I am?" - -"I don't care. What do you say?" - -"Please don't. I hear some one." - -"No, it's a wagon. I want you to say yes." - -"You--you know what it would mean if--if--" - -"If McGlory--Yes, I know. You're not afraid?" - -Her face hardened for an instant at this, and then, as suddenly, -softened. "No," she said; "I'm not afraid of anything." - -"And you 'll go?" - -She nodded. - -"Shall I come here?" - -"No, you'd better not." - -"Where shall we meet?" - -"Oh--let me see--over just beyond the station. It's quiet there." - -"All right. And I 'll get a lunch put up." - -"No--it's easier for me to do that. I 'll bring something. And now -go--please." - -He rose, and slipped around the table toward her. . - -"Don't--you _must_ go." - -And so he went, leaving her to gaze after him with a high color. - - - - -CHAPTER III--AT THE HOUSE ON STILTS - -[Illustration: 0076] - -DICK and Henry did not go directly back, and it was mid-afternoon when -they reached the pier. As they walked down the incline from the road, -Dick's eyes strayed toward the house on stilts. The _Captain_ lay with -nose in the sand, and beside her, evidently just back from a sail, stood -Annie with two of the students who came on bright days to rent Captain -Fargo's boats. They were having a jolly time,--he could hear Annie -laughing at some sally from the taller student,--and they had no eye for -the two sailors on the pier. Once, as they walked out, Dick's hand went -up to his hat; but he was mistaken, she had not seen him. And so he -watched her until the lumber piles, on the broad outer end of the pier, -shut off the view; and Henry watched him. - -Dick hardly heard what his cousin said when they parted. He leaped down -to the deck of the _Merry Anne_, and plunged moodily into the box of -an after cabin. His men, excepting Pink Harper, who was somewhere up -forward devouring a novel, were on shore; so that there was no one -to observe him standing there by the little window gazing shoreward. -Finally, after much chatting and lingering, the two students sauntered -away. Annie turned back to make her boat fast; and Dick, in no cheerful -frame of mind, came hurrying shoreward. - -She saw him leap down from pier to sand, and gave him a wave of the -hand; then, seeing that he was heading toward her, she turned and -awaited him. - -"Come, Dick, I want you to pull the _Captain_ higher up." - -Dick did as he was bid, without a word. And then, with a look and tone -that told her plainly what was to come next, he asked, "What are you -going to do now?" - -"I guess I 'll have to see if mother wants me. I've been sailing ever -since dinner." - -"You haven't any time for me, then?" - -"Why, of course I have,--lots of it. But I can't see you all the while." - -"No, I suppose you can't--not if you go sailing with those boys." - -Annie's mischievous nature leaped at the chance this speech gave -her. "They aren't boys, Dick; Mr. Beveridge is older than most of the -students. He told me all about himself the other day." - -"Oh, he did." - -"Yes. He was brought up on a farm, and he has had to work his way -through school. When he first came here, he got off the train with only -just three dollars and a half in his pocket, and he didn't have any idea -where he was going to get his next dollar. I think it's pretty brave of -a man to work as hard as that for an education." - -Dick could say nothing. Most of _his_ education had come in through his -pores. - -"I like Mr. Wilson, too." - -"He is the other one, I suppose?" - -Dick, his eyes fixed on the sand, did not catch the mirthful glance -that was shot at him after these words. And her voice, friendly and -unconscious, told him nothing. - -"Yes, he is Mr. Beveridge's friend. They room together." - -"Well, I hope they enjoy it." - -"Now, Dick, what makes you so cross? When you are such a bear, it -wouldn't be any wonder if I didn't want to see you." - -He gazed for a minute at the rippling blue lake, then broke out: "Can -you blame me for being cross? Is it my fault?" - -She looked at him with wondering eyes. - -"Why--you don't mean it is _my_ fault, Dick?" - -"Do you think it is just right to treat me this way, Annie?" - -"What way do you mean, Dick?" - -He bit his lip, then looked straight into her eyes and came out with -characteristic directness:-- - -"I don't like to think I've been making a mistake all this while, Annie. -Maybe I have never asked you right out if you would marry me. I'm not -a college fellow, and it isn't always easy for me to say things, but -I thought you knew what I meant. And I thought that you didn't mind my -meaning it." - -She was beginning to look serious and troubled. - -"But if there is any doubt about it, I say it right now. Will you marry -me? It is what I have been working for--what I have been buying the -schooner for--and if I had thought for a minute that you weren't going -to say yes sooner or later, I should have gone plumb to the devil before -this. It isn't a laughing matter. It has been the thought of you that -has kept me straight, and--and--can't you see how it is, Annie? Haven't -you anything to say to me?" - -She looked at him. He was so big and brown; his eyes were so clear and -blue. - -"Don't let's talk about it now. You're so--impatient." - -"Do you really think I've been impatient?" - -She could not answer this. - -"Now listen, Annie: I'm going to sail in the morning, away around to a -place called Spencer, on Lake Huron; and I could hardly get back inside -of ten or twelve days. And if I should go away without a word from -you--well, I couldn't, that's all." - -"You don't mean--you don't want me to say before to-morrow?" - -"Yes, that's just what I mean. You haven't anything to do to-night, have -you?" - -She shook, her head without looking at him. "Well, I 'll be around after -supper, and we 'll take a walk, and you can tell me." - -But her courage was coming back. "No, Dick, I can't." - -"But, Annie, you don't mean--" - -"Yes, I do. Why can't you stop bothering me, and just wait. Maybe -then--some day--" - -"It's no use--I can't. If you won't tell me to-night, surely ten--or, -say, eleven--days ought to be enough. If I went off tomorrow without -even being able to look forward to it--Oh, Annie, you've got to tell -me, that's all. Let me see you to-night, and I 'll try not to bother you. -I 'll get back in eleven days, if I have to put the schooner on my back -and carry her clean across the Southern Peninsula,"--she was smiling -now; she liked his extravagant moods,--"and then you 'll tell me." He -had her hand; he was gazing so eagerly, so breathlessly, that she could -hardly resist. "You 'll tell me then, Annie, and you 'll make me the -luckiest fellow that ever sailed out of _this_ town. Eleven days from -to-night--and I 'll come--and I 'll ask you if it is to be yes or no--and -you 'll tell me for keeps. You can promise me that much, can't you?" - -And Annie, holding out as long as she could, finally, with the slightest -possible inclination of her head, promised. - -"Where will you be this evening?" he asked, as they parted. - -"I 'll wait on the porch--about eight." - -For the rest of the afternoon Dick sat brooding in his cabin. When, a -little after six, he saw Henry coming down the companionway, his heart -warmed. - -"Thought I'd come over and eat with you," said his cousin. "What's the -matter here--why don't you light up?" - -Dick, by way of reply, mumbled a few words and struck a light. Henry -looked at him curiously. - -"What is it, Dick?" he asked again. - -There had been few secrets between them. So far as either knew, they -were the last two members of their family, and their intimacy, though -never expressed in words, had a deep foundation. Before the present -arrangement of Dick's work, which made it possible for them to meet -at least once in the month, they had seen little of each other; but at -every small crisis in the course of his struggle upward to the command -of a schooner, Dick had been guided by the counsel and example of the -older man. Now he spoke out his mind without hesitation. - -"Sit down, Henry. When--when I told you about what I have been -thinking--about Annie--why did you look at me as you did?" - -"How did I look?" - -"Don't dodge, Henry. The idea struck you wrong. I could see that, and I -want to know why." - -"Well," Henry hesitated, "I don't know that I should put it just that -way. I confess I was surprised." - -"Haven't you seen it coming?" - -"I rather guess the trouble with me was that I have been planning out -your future without taking your feelings into account." - -"How do you mean,--planning my future?" - -"Oh, it isn't so definite that I could answer that question offhand. -I thought I saw a future for myself, and I thought we might go it -together. But I was counting on just you and me, without any other -interests or impediments." - -"But if I should marry--" - -"If you marry, your work will have to take a new direction. Your -interests will change completely. And before many years, you will begin -to think of quitting the Lake. It isn't the life for a family man. But -then--that's the way things go. I have no right to advise against it." -Henry smiled, with an odd, half bitter expression. "And from what I have -seen since my eyes were opened, I don't believe it would do any good for -me to object." - -"You are mistaken there, Henry," the younger man replied quietly; "it -isn't going well at all. I've been pretty blue to-day." - -"Well," said Henry, with the same odd expression, "I don't know but what -I'm sorry for that. That future I was speaking of seems to have faded -out lately,--in fact, my plans are not going well, either. And so you -probably couldn't count on me very much anyway." - -He paused. Pink Harper, who acted as cook occasionally when the _Anne_ -was tied up and the rest of the crew were ashore, could be heard -bustling about on deck. After a moment Henry rose, and, with an -impulsive gesture, laid his hand on Dick's shoulder. "Cheer up, Dick," -he said. "Don't take it too hard. Try to keep hold of yourself. And look -here, my boy, we've always stepped pretty well together, and we mustn't -let any new thing come in between us--" - -"Supper's ready!" Pink called down the companionway. - -Dick was both puzzled and touched; touched by Henry's moment of -frankness, puzzled by the reasons given for his opposition to the -suggested marriage. It was not like his cousin to express positive -opinions, least of all with inadequate reasons. Dick had no notion of -leaving the Lake; he could never do so without leaving most of himself -behind. Plainly Henry did not want him married, and Dick wondered why. - -It was half-past seven, and night was settling over the Lake. Already -the pier end was fading, the masts of the two schooners were losing -their distinctness against the sky; the ripples had quieted with the -dying day-breeze, and now murmured on the sand. The early evening stars -were peeping out, looking for their mates in the water below. - -On the steps, sober now, and inclined to dreaming as she looked out into -the mystery of things, sat Annie. A shadow fell across the beach,--the -outline of a broad pair of shoulders,--and she held her breath. The -shadow lengthened; the man appeared around the corner of the house. -Then, as he came rapidly nearer, she was relieved to see that it was -Beveridge. - -He was in a cheerful frame of mind as he stepped up and sat beside her. -It was pleasant that the peculiar nature of his work should make -it advisable to cultivate the acquaintance of an attractive young -woman--such a very attractive young woman that he was beginning to -think, now and then, of taking her away with him when his work here -should be done. - -"What do you say to a row on the Lake?" he suggested, after a little. - -"I mustn't go away," said Annie. "I promised I would be here at eight." - -"But it's not eight yet," Beveridge replied. "Let's walk a little -way--you can keep the house in sight, and see when he comes." - -"Well," doubtfully, "not far." - -They strolled along the beach until Annie turned. "This is far enough." - -"I don't know whether I can let your Captain come around quite so -often," said he, as they sat down on the dry sand, in the shelter of a -clump of willows. "It won't do--he is too good looking. I should like to -know what is to become of the rest of us." - -This amused Annie. They had both been gazing out towards the schooners, -and he had read her thoughts. He went on: "You know it's not really -fair. These sailor fellows always get the best of us. He named his -schooner after you, didn't he?" - -"Oh, no, I don't believe so." - -"Sailors and soldiers--it's the same the world over! There's no chance -for us common fellows when they are about. Tell you what I shall have -to do--join the militia and come around in full uniform. Then maybe you -would be looking at me, too. I don't know but what I could even make you -forget him." - -She had to laugh at this. "Maybe you could." - -"I suppose it wouldn't do me any good to try without the uniform, would -it?" - -She tossed her head now. "So that's what you think of me--that I care -for nothing but clothes?" - -"Oh, no, it's not the clothes. His red shirt would never do it. But it's -the idea of a sailor's life--there is a sort of glitter about it--he -seems pluckier, somehow, than other men. It's the dash and the -grand-stand play that fetches it. I suppose it wouldn't be a bit of use -to tell you that you are too good for him." - -She made no reply, and the conversation halted. Annie gazed pensively -out across the water. He watched her, and as the moments slipped away -his expression began to change; for he was still a young man, and the -witchery of the night was working within him. - -"Do you know, I'm pretty nearly mean enough to tell you some things -about Dick Smiley. I don't know but what I'm a little jealous of him." - -She did not turn, or speak. - -"I'm afraid it is so. I would hardly talk like this if I were not. I -thought I was about girl-proof,--up to now, no one has been able to keep -my mind off my work very long at a time,--but you have been playing the -mischief with me, this last week or so. It's no use, Annie. I wouldn't -give three cents for the man that could look at you and keep his head. -And when I think of you throwing yourself away on Smiley, just because -he's good-looking and a sailor--you mustn't do it, that's all. I have -been watching you--" - -"Oh,--you have?" - -"Yes, and I think maybe I see some things about you that you don't see -yourself. I wonder if you have thought where a man like Smiley would -lead you?" She would have protested at this, but he swept on. "He can -never be anything more than he is. He has no head for business, and even -if he works hard, he can't hope to do more than own his schooner. You -see, he's not prepared for anything better; he's side-tracked. And if -you were just a pretty girl and nothing more,--just about the size of -these people around you,--I don't suppose I should say a word; I should -know you would never be happy anywhere else. Why, Annie, do you suppose -there's a girl anywhere else on the shore of Lake Michigan--on the whole -five Lakes--living among fishermen and sailors, as you do, that could -put on a dress the way you have put that one on, that could wear it the -way you're wearing it now? - -"Oh, I know the difference, and I don't like to stand by and let you -throw yourself away. You see, Annie, I haven't known you very long, but -it has been long enough to make it impossible to forget you. I haven't -any more than made my start, but I'm sure I am headed right, and if -I could tell you the chance there is ahead of me to do something big, -maybe you would understand why I believe I'm going to be able to offer -you the kind of life you ought to have--the kind you were made for. I -don't want to climb up alone. I want some one with me--some one to help -me make it. You may think this is sudden--and you would be right. -It _is_ sudden. I have felt a little important about my work, I'm -afraid, for I really have been doing well. But ever since you just -looked at me with those eyes of yours, the whole business has gone -upside down. Don't blame me for talking out this way. It's your fault -for being what you are. I expect to finish up my work here pretty soon -now, and then I 'll have to go away, and there's no telling where I 'll -be." - -Annie was puzzled. - -"Oh, you finish so soon? It is only September now." - -"I have to move on when the work is done, you know. I obey orders." - -"But I thought you were a student, Mr. Beveridge?" - -He hesitated; he had said too much. Chagrined, he rose, without a word, -at her "Come, I must go back now," and returned with her to the house. -And when they were approaching the steps, he was just angry enough with -himself to blunder again. - -"Wait, Annie. I see you don't understand me. But there is one thing you -_can_ understand. I want to go away knowing that you aren't going to -encourage Smiley any longer. You can promise me that much. I don't want -to talk against him; but I can tell you he's not the man for you; he's -not even the man you think he is. Some day I will explain it all. -Promise me that you won't." - -But she hurried on resolutely toward the house, and there was nothing -to do but follow. "Will you take my word for it, Annie,--that you 'll do -best to let him alone?" - -She shook her head and hurried along. - -On the steps sat a gloomy figure--Dick, in his Sunday clothes, white -shirt and collar, red necktie, and all. His elbows rested on his knees, -his chin rested on his hands, and the darkness of the great black Lake -was in his soul. He watched the approaching figures without raising his -head; he saw Beveridge lift his hat and turn away toward the bank; he -let Annie come forward alone without speaking to her. - -She put one foot on the bottom step, and nodded up at him. "Here I am, -Dick. Do you want to sit here or--or walk?" - -He got up, and came slowly down to the sand. - -"So this is the way you treat me, Annie?" - -"I'm not late, am I, Dick? It can't be much after eight." - -"So you go walking with him, when--when--" - -"Now, Dick, don't be foolish. Mr. Beveridge came around early, and -wanted me to walk, and--and I told him I couldn't stay away--" - -She was not quite her usual sprightly self; and the manner of this -speech was not convincing. Dick's reply was a subdued sound that -indicated anything but satisfaction. - -"I'm mad, Annie,--I know I'm mad--and I don't think you can blame me." - -"I--I didn't ask you to come before eight, Dick." - -"Oh, that was it, was it? I suppose you told him to come at seven." - -"Now, Dick,--please--" - -But he, not daring to trust his tongue, was angry and helpless before -her. After a moment he turned away and stood looking out toward the -lights of the schooner. Finally he said, in a strange voice, "I see I've -been a fool--I thought you meant some of the things you've said--I ought -to have known better; I ought to have known you were just fooling with -me--you were just a flirt." - -He did not look around. Even if he had, the night would have concealed -the color in her cheeks. But he heard her say, "I think perhaps--you had -better go, Dick." - -He hesitated, then turned. - -"Good night," she said, and ran up the steps. - -"Say--wait, Annie--" - -The door closed behind her, and Dick stood alone. He waited, thinking -she might come back, but the house was silent. He stepped back and -looked up at her little balcony with its fringe of flowers, but it was -deserted; no light appeared in the window. At last he turned away, and -tramped out to the _Merry Anne_. The men were aboard, ready for an early -start in the morning; the new mate was settling himself in the cabin. -To Dick, as he stood on the pier and looked down on the trim little -schooner, nothing appeared worth while. He leaped down to the deck, and -thought savagely that he would have made the the same leap if the deck -had not been there, if there had been fourteen feet of green water and a -berth on the scalloped sand below. But there was one good thing--nothing -could rob Dick of his sleep. And in his dreams Annie was always kind. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--THE CIRCLE MARK - -[Illustration: 0098] - -EARLY in the morning they were off. Dick, glum and reckless, took the -wheel; McGlory went up forward and looked after hoisting the jibs and -foresail. The new mate had already succeeded, by an ugly way he had, in -antagonizing most of the men; but their spirits ran high, in spite of -him, as the _Merry Anne_ slipped away from the pier and headed out into -the glory of the sunrise. - -"Hey, Peenk," called Larsen, "geeve us 'Beelly Brown.'" And Pink, who -needed no urging, roared out promptly the following ballad, with the -whole crew shouting the spoken words:-- - - Oh, Billy Brown he loved a girl, - - And her name was Mary Rowe, O-ho! - - She lived way down - - In that wick-ed town, - - The town called She-caw-go. - - (Spoken) WHERE'S THAT? - - The place where the Clark streets grow. - - - "Oh, Mary, will you bunk with me?" - - "Say, ain't you a little slow, O-ho! - - 'Bout sailin' down - - To this wicked town - - To tell me you love me so?" - - (Spoken) GO 'LONG! - - She's givin''im the wink, I know. - - - Oh, the wind blowed high, an' the wind blowed strong, - - An' the Gross' Point' reef laid low, O-ho! - - An' Billy Brown - - Went down, down, down, - - To the bottom of the place below. - - (Spoken) WHERE'S MARY? - - She's married to a man named Joe. - - -"You're makin' noise enough up there," growled McGlory. Pink, with a -rebellious glance, bent over the rope he was coiling and held his peace. - -As they started, so they sailed during four days--the Captain reckless, -the mate hard and uncommunicative, the men cowed. And at mid-morning on -the fourth day they arrived at Spencer. - -The Hydrographic Office had at that time worked wonders in charting -these Great Lakes of ours, but it had given no notice to the little -harbor that was tucked snugly away behind False Middle Island, not a -hundred miles from Mackinaw City on the Lake Huron side; merely a speck -of an island with a nameless dent behind it. But old Spencer, a lank, -hatchet-faced Yankee, had found that a small schooner could be worked in -if she headed due west, "with the double sand dune against the three -pines till you get the forked stump ranged with the ruined shanty; meet -this range and hold it till clear of the bar at the north end of the -island; circle around to port; when clear of the bar, hug the inner -shore of the island until the mill can be seen behind the trees; then -run up into the harbor. Plenty of water here." - -This discovery had resulted in such a curious little mill as can be -found only in the back corners of the country,--a low shed with a flat -roof; one side open to the day; within, an old-fashioned vertical saw; -the whole supplied with power by a rotting, dripping, moss-covered -sluiceway. - -All about were blackened pine stumps--nothing else for a hundred miles. -And all through the forest was the sand, drifting like snow over roads -and fences, changing the shape of the land in every high wind, blowing -into hair and clothes, and adding, with the tall, endless, gray-green -mullein stalks, the final touch of desolation to a hopeless land. Here -and there, in the clearings, sand-colored farmers and their sand-colored -wives struggled to wring a livelihood from the thankless earth. Other -farmers had drifted helplessly away, leaving houses and barns to blacken -and rot and sink beneath the sand drifts, and leaving, too, rows of -graves under the stumps. - -Twenty miles down the coast, where a railroad touched, was a feeble -little settlement that was known, on the maps, as Ramsey City. - -This region had been "cut over" once; it had been burned over more -than once; and yet old Spencer, with his handful of employees and his -deliberate little mill, wore a prosperous look on his inscrutable -Yankee face. There was no inhabited house within ten miles, but he was -apparently contented. - -McGlory, it seemed, knew the channel; so Dick surrendered the wheel -when they were nearing the island, and stood at his elbow, watching the -landmarks. The mate volunteered no information, but Dick needed none; -he made out the ranges with the eye of a born sailor. But even he was -surprised when the _Merry Anne_ swung around into the landlocked harbor -and glided up to a rude wharf that was piled with lumber. Behind it was -the mill; behind that, at some distance, a comfortable house, nearly -surrounded by other smaller dwellings. - -"So this is Spencer, eh?" observed Dick. - -"This is Spencer," McGlory replied. - -The owner himself was coming down to meet them, reading over a letter -from his friend, Stenzenberger, as he walked. His wife came out of her -kitchen and stood on her steps to see the schooner. Two or three men -in woodman's flannels were lounging about the mill, and these sat up, -renewed their quids from a common plug, and stared. - -"How are you?" nodded Spencer, pocketing the letter. He caught the line -and threw it over a snubbing post. "This Mr. - -"Smiley?" - -"That's who," said Dick. - -"How are you, Joe?" to McGlory. - -"How are you, Mr. Spencer?" - -In a moment they were fast, and Dick had leaped ashore. He caught -Spencer's shrewd eyes taking him in, and laughed, "Well, I guess you 'll -know me next time." - -"Guess I will." There was a puzzled, even disturbed expression on the -lumberman's face. "I was thinking you didn't look much like your cousin. -The stuffs all ready for you there. You'd better put one of your men on -to check it up. Will you walk up and take a look around the place?" - -"Thanks--guess I 'll stay right here and hustle this stuff aboard. I'd -like to put out again after dinner." - -Spencer drew a plug from a trousers pocket, offered it to Dick, who at -the sight of it shook his head, and helped himself to a mouthful. Then -his eyes took in the schooner, her crew, and the sky above them. "Wind's -getting easterly," he observed. "Looks like freshening up. Mean business -getting out of here against the wind--no room for beating. You'd better -leave your mate to load and have a look at the place." - -"Well, all right; McGlory, see to getting that stuff aboard right off, -will you? We 'll try to get out after dinner sometime." - -When Spencer had shown his guest the mill and the houses of his men, -he led the way to his own home and seated his guest in the living room. -Here from a corner cupboard he produced a bottle and two glasses. - -"I've got a little something to offer you here, Mr. Smiley," said he, -"that I think you 'll find drinkable. I usually keep some on hand in case -anybody comes along. I don't take much myself, but it's sociable to -have around." Dick tossed off a glass and smacked his lips. "Well, say, -that's the real stuff." - -"Guess there ain't no doubt about that." - -"Where do you get it from?" - -"I bought that in Detroit last time I was down. Couldn't say what house -it's from." - -"Oh, you get out of here now and then, do you r - -"Not often--have another?" - -"Thanks, don't care if I do." - -"You see I've got a little schooner of my own, the _Estelle_,--named her -after my wife's sister,--and now and then I take a run down the shore to -Saginaw or Port Huron, or somewhere." - -"Do you get much lumber out?" - -"Enough for a living." - -"I noticed you had a mark on the end of every big stick--looked like a -groove cut in a circle--most a foot across." - -"Yes, that's my mark." - -"The idea being that people will know your stuff, I suppose." - -Spencer nodded shortly. "I'm getting out the best lumber on the Great -Lakes--that's why I mark it--help yourself to that bottle--there, I 'll -just set it where you can reach it." Dick would have stopped ordinarily -at two glasses. To-day he stopped at nothing. "Much obliged. I haven't -touched anything as strong as this for two years." - -"Swore off?" - -"Sort of, but I don't know that I've been any better off for it. There's -nothing so good after sailing the best part of a week." - -"You're right, there ain't. And that's the pure article there--wouldn't -hurt a babe in arms. Take another. You haven't been working for Cap'n -Stenzenberger many years, have you?" - -Throughout this conversation Spencer was studying Smiley's face. - -"No, nothing like so long as Henry." - -"How do you get along with him?" - -"The Cap'n? Oh, all right. He's a little too smart for me, but I guess -he's square enough." - -"Doing a good business, is he?" - -"Couldn't say. I don't know much about his business." - -"Oh, you don't?" There was a shade of disappointment in the lumberman's -voice as he said this, but Dick, who was reaching for the bottle, failed -to observe it. - -"McGlory been with you long?" - -"No, this is his first trip." - -"You don't say so! Wasn't he with your cousin a while back?" - -"Yes, for a year." - -"Thought I'd seen him on the _Schmidt_. Is he a good man?" - -"Good enough." - -"Let's see, wasn't he in with Stenzenberger once?" - -"Couldn't say." - -"Oh, you couldn't?" - -"No. Say, I 'll have to step down and see how things are going. Here, -I 'll just have another nip out o' that bottle." - -"Nonsense, Cap'n; sit down, sit down. I guess McGlory's competent to get -the load aboard all right. I ain't hardly begun to get acquainted with -you yet. We 'll have dinner pretty soon now, and when you've put a little -something solid inside you, we 'll go down and have a look at things. -Don't get bashful about the bottle. There's plenty more where that come -from." - -"I don't know but what I've had all that's good for me." - -"Pshaw! A man of your inches? Here now, here's to you!" - -They drank together, and a little later they drank again. - -When Mrs. Spencer, a tired, faded out little body, came to the door and -said, "Dinner is ready, Ed," Dick's spirits were soaring amazingly, and -his voice had risen to a pitch slightly above the normal. Spencer nodded -toward his guest and remarked, "This is Cap'n Smiley, Josie." - -"Glad to make your acquaintance," exclaimed Dick, boisterously, striding -forward to shake her hand. - -"Show the Cap'n to the dining room, will you, Josie?" Spencer said. -"I 'll step out and call the boys." - -Mrs. Spencer led the way through the short hall to the dining room, -where a table was spread for Spencer's eight or ten men (Mc-Glory and -the crew were to eat on the _Merry Anne_). Dick, stepping high, followed -her, and found himself being presented to a blond young woman with blue -eyes and an agreeable expression. "My sister Estelle, Cap'n Smiley," -said Mrs. Spencer. - -"Glad to meet you," said Dick, looking so hard at her as they shook -hands that she blushed and dropped her eyes. - -Mrs. Spencer slipped out to the kitchen after the introduction, leaving -them to await the men. - -"You've never been here before?" she ventured. - -"Never have. Do you live here?" - -"Yes, I've been with sister four years now." - -"Well, say, this is a pretty lonely place for a girl like you. I 'll have -to sail around often." - -"I guess you will." - -"Yes, _ma'am_, you're too pretty for this corner of the woods." - -Estelle blushed and shook her head. - -"But that's the gospel truth, sure as I'm Dick Smiley. And I can see -you're too sensible to get mad at any one for telling the truth." - -"Oh, Captain, I'm afraid you're a flirt," simpered Estelle. - -"Me, flirt? Never. Not on your diamond ear-rings!" - -"Sh! What would Ed think if he was to come in and hear you talking like -that?" - -Spencer, in truth, was already on the steps; in another moment he came -into the room at the head of his men. And Dick, suddenly aware that his -tongue was taking liberties with him, shut his lips tight and refused -to speak another word throughout the meal. In vain the lumberman rallied -him; in vain the men made advances; in vain Estelle, who was waiting -on table, threw him glances from behind Spencer's chair or let her hand -brush his in passing him the potatoes; from a flushed, talkative man, -Dick had turned abruptly into a silent, moody one, and he ate steadily, -with eyes for nothing but his food. - -The meal was nearly over when Spencer, looking around the table, said, -"Hello, where's Pete?" - -"He's busy," replied one of the men, "said he'd be a little late." - -"Well, if he likes his vittles cold, I guess it's his own funeral." - -"There he is now, outside there." - -At this Spencer pushed back his chair and went to the window. "Hello, -there, Pete," he called. "Ain't you coming to dinner?" - -"Yes, be right along." - -Dick stopped eating at the sound of the last voice, and listened, his -fork in the air, for what was coming next. Hearing nothing further, he -faced around and watched the door. A moment later in came Roche, trying -to greet the men without looking at his former captain, and sliding into -his chair with averted face. - -"Mr. Roche, don't you know Cap'n Smiley?" said Spencer. - -"Yes, yes, I know him. How are you, Cap'n?" - -"How are you, Pete? How'd you get here?" - -"Oh, I--" Roche was embarrassed. "I used to work for Mr. Spencer, and -when I left you he took me back." - -Dick merely grunted, and went on eating. - -"Here, Estelle!" called Spencer. "Estelle, Cap'n Smiley'd like another -piece o' pie. Ain't Estelle there, Josie?" - -Mrs. Spencer appeared in the kitchen doorway. "No, she ain't here." - -"Why, I just saw her a minute or so ago." - -"She said it was hot in the kitchen and stepped outside. What is it you -want?" - -"Cap'n Smiley'd like some more pie." - -"All right, I 'll get it for him." - -Dick bolted the second helping in the silence that had enveloped him -since the meal began. Then he got up, said something about the schooner -that nobody quite understood, and left the house. - -Matters were going slowly at the wharf. - -There was still a small pile of timber, and another of shingles waiting -to be loaded. So far as Dick could see, Harper seemed to be directing -the work. - -"What are you doing there, Pink?" he demanded, in a tone that made Pink -look curiously at him before replying. - -"Loadin' up." - -"Where's McGlory?" - -"I don't know." - -"You _don't know!_ Well, why in------don't you know?" - -"I 'll tell you, Cap'n." - -"Oh, you 'll tell me, will you?" - -"Yes, I will. Mr. McGlory was awful partic'lar about the first load -o' stuff that went aboard, handled most of it hisself, and made us work -slow, an' then he just naturally quit workin' and walked off without -sayin' a word, an' so I an' the boys have been tryin' to hustle it -aboard, like you said, without him." - -"Quit workin'! What right's he got to quit workin'?" - -"I don't know, Cap'n." - -Two of the sailors, standing near by, had been watching their captain -during this talk. - -Now one of them turned away to hide a grin. - -"What are you grinning about there?" roared Dick. - -"I wasn't grinnin', Cap'n." - -"Oh, you wasn't. Get to work, then, and shut your mouths. You're a lot -o' loafers, that's what you are. Hustle, now!" He lent a strong hand -himself, glad to vent in work the explosives that were working in his -head; and as he worked he muttered, "So we quit workin' when we're -tired, do we?" - -Meanwhile the mate was strolling in the forest a few hundred yards away -with Estelle. He was looking closely at her, as they walked, from under -heavy eyebrows. She was flushing a very little and studying the sand at -her feet. - -"Who's been giving you that kind o' talk about me?" he was asking. - -"Why--I don't know as it was anybody especial." - -"You didn't believe it, did you?" - -"N-no--but you see, you told me you were coming right back, and then you -didn't--and I didn't know whether I was ever going to see you again or -not. I thought--" - -"Well, what was it you thought?" - -"I thought you probably could have come if you'd wanted to!" - -"You know better than that, Estelle. The only way I could come was on -the schooner, and Cap'n Henry laid me off before the next trip. The -minute I had a chance to come up here with this man, I grabbed it. What -I'd like to know is, who is there up here that wants to tell lies about -me? What else have you heard?" - -"You--you won't be mad, Joe, if--if I tell?" - -"Course not. Here, let's sit down." - -They found a seat in the hollow of the sand, where the undergrowth -screened them. - -"You see, Joe, I heard that you--were married." - -He started up. "That's a lie!" - -"You said you--wouldn't get mad." - -He dropped down again, muttering: "I ain't mad at you, Estelle, but -don't you see there's some one that's just setting out to spread these -lies. It's enough to rile a fellow. Who was it told you?" - -"I don't know--it was quite a while back--maybe it was--Josie." - -"But she don't know anything about me. Who could 'a' told her?" - -"I don't know. You won't say anything to her, will you, Joe?" - -"No, course not. It's funny, that's all. But so long's you don't believe -it, I don't suppose I've got any cause for kicking." - -"Of course I don't believe it--not now. Before you'd come back, and -after all you'd said about--" - -"About what, Estelle?" - -"About coming up here for me--and our going away from here--" - -"That's it," he broke in eagerly--"that's just it. I couldn't do it then -because I didn't have the ready. But now, you see, I've got a little -put by, and there ain't nothing to hinder our clearing out o' here for -good." - -"Isn't there, Joe?" - -"Not a thing." - -"Oh, I'm so glad. You don't know--you don't know how sick I get of this -place, and these men around. I most die with it sometimes--feel as if -I could go away alone if I knew of any place to go. Once I thought a -little of--of just doing it anyhow, and maybe finding you in Chicago. -You've told me where your place is, you know, up on the north side." - -"Yes, I know, but we can do it now." - -"Now, Joe?" - -"Sure." - -"To-day?" - -"Well--you see--I couldn't hardly do it to-day. I've got to finish my -trip." - -"Oh--" - -"Now wait, Estelle. If I got impatient, I'd lose the trick, don't you -see. This man, Dick Smiley, is working for the man that's got to help -me. I know a way to make him back me--set me up in my own place in some -new town maybe. I couldn't leave Smiley in the lurch without getting his -boss down on me. I've got a hold on him, but he'd never stand for that. -This Smiley's a no-good lot, but I've got to stick out this trip with -him." - -"But--then you 'll be back in Chicago." - -"I know. I'm coming up here by train. Or say I meet you at Saginaw." - -"You thought you could do that before." - -"I was broke then. Now I've got the stuff. And I know how I can turn -a trick on this trip back that 'll be worth an easy five hundred to me. -That 'll take us clear down to Niagara Falls, maybe." - -"Oh, could we go there, Joe?" - -"Sure, anywhere you say." - -"But, how 'll I know when to start?" - -"Well, let's see. I can't be sure of getting back to Chicago, and -cleaning things up, and coming up to Saginaw inside of seven days. Call -it eight; that 'll make it--to-day's Tuesday--next week Wednesday. What -day does Spencer drive down to Ramsey?" - -"Thursdays." - -"Then that's our day. You could get him to take you along, couldn't -you?" - -"Yes." - -"Then you give him the slip and catch the afternoon train to Saginaw." - -"But how could I take my things? He'd be sure to see them." - -"Leave 'em behind. I 'll buy you what you need. Have you got any money?" - -"Not very much?" - -He sat up and drew out a handful of bills. "Here--say I give you -twenty-five. That 'll see you through, won't it?" - -"Oh, yes, Joe." - -She was decidedly pretty now. Her weak face was alive with eagerness, -her eyes were dancing. And McGlory, as he looked at her, seemed to feel -something approaching a thrill. - -There they sat, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, until the brush parted -and Dick stood over them. - -"Well, Mr. Man," said he, "I hope you're passing a pleasant afternoon -with your friend." - -Estelle got to her feet first. - -"We thought maybe you'd spend a few minutes with us to-day," continued -Dick. "You see we can't stay very long." - -"Who're you talking to?" growled the mate. - -"I'm a-looking right at you." - -It was an awkward moment for McGlory. He felt that it was downright -necessary to show his superiority, for it is only by such a show -that women like Estelle are kept constant. On the other hand, even he -understood the danger of openly defying his captain. But the seconds -were flying. - -"You go back to your schooner, Dick Smiley. You ain't boss here." - -"Well, by--" Dick checked himself, with a half bow toward Estelle. "I -beg your pardon, my dear. Your friend kind o' surprised me." - -McGlory flashed a suspicious glance at her. - -"None o' your jaw now, Smiley. You can do your talking when it's time to -sail. You 'll have to shut up here." - -"Maybe you 'll be good enough to tell me when you 'll be ready to start," -suggested Dick, with extravagant politeness. - -McGlory rumbled an unintelligible reply; and Dick turned again to -Estelle. "Will you excuse him, my dear. You see he's got a previous -engagement with me. But you couldn't hardly blame him for forgetting, -with such a lady friend to talk to." - -"Look here," McGlory broke out; "you've said enough. You go back to your -schooner where you belong!" - -"Thanks, I'm going. We're all going. You 'll come with us, my dear?" - -Estelle, who was plunged in confusion, said nothing, but fell in with -him. And McGlory, fuming, had to follow. - -The east wind was freshening; the sky was darker. Spencer, who stood -awaiting them on the wharf, shook his head at Dick. "You aren't going to -start now, are you, Cap'n?" - -"Sure we are." - -"It's mean business with an east wind. But still McGlory knows the -channel." - -"McGlory be----!" said Dick, throwing off his ceremonial manner now that -Estelle had escaped to the house. "I'd take her through hell for fifty -cents. Just watch my smoke." Spencer said nothing further. The mate was -ordered up forward; the lines were cast off; Dick took the wheel. And -out they went, with a reckless daring that made Spencer and Pink Harper -smile from different motives. - -"He's going to butt a hole clean through Middle Island," muttered the -lumberman. But before the words were out, the Merry Anne swung cheerily -about and went skimming along the channel bank. Soon she rounded the -island in safety and disappeared. - -Not until they were fairly out on Lake Huron did Dick call his mate. -Then he gave up the wheel without a word and stumbled down into the -cabin. His high spirits had given place to weariness and depression; -and, dropping down for a moment on his bunk, he fell asleep. - -On deck McGlory, with an expression of smouldering anger, stood at the -wheel, glancing now at the sails, now at the water, now at the receding -shore. If his eyes could have penetrated the bluffs and the forest, he -would not have been happier. For Estelle, who seemed to be the victim of -her emotions today, was listening to some earnest talk from a boastful -fellow named Roche. - - - - -CHAPTER V--BURNT COVE - - -[Illustration: 0124] - -DURING the rest of the afternoon, during the evening, on into the -night, Dick's hearty snoring floated up the companionway. At supper-time -McGlory called Ole Larsen to the wheel, and went below. The Swede looked -after him and observed that he took the steps slowly and cautiously, -and was more quiet than usual in the cabin. From the mate his attention -turned to the binnacle. His instructions were to hold the course, -nor'east, pointing into the wind with the sheets hauled close. -Ordinarily he would not have taken the trouble to question any orders -that might have been given him, but the dislike and distrust all the -crew felt for their new mate was stirring in his mind. He took occasion, -when Harper came aft about some work, to beckon him and point to the -compass. - -"Aye tank we don' go at Mackinaw, no," he said in a half whisper. - -"Is that the course he gave you?" - -"Ya-as, dat's her." - -"I was thinkin' myself it was funny. Near's I can figure, we're pointin' -for Manitoulin Island. Now what in thunder--Look here, Ole--first chance -I get I'm goin' to wake the Cap'n." - -"Aye tank we do dat, ya-as." - -They had dropped their voices, but Mc-Glory had heard them. He now -came tiptoeing up the companion steps, wearing an ugly scowl. "Go up -forward," he commanded, addressing Harper. - -"I was just askin' about the course, Mr. McGlory. It didn't quite seem -to me--" - -"Go up forward!" - -Pink hesitated, then he raised his voice. "Cap'n Smiley generally likes -me to wake him when he's slept as long's this." - -"Go up forward." - -"Well--" - -He was starting, but he moved too slowly. McGlory's temper gave way, and -he struck him, with the back of his hand, across the face. - -"You hit _me!_" The blood rushed into Harper's face; he drew himself up, -his fists contracting, the muscles of his bare forearms knotting. Ole -gazed impassively at the compass, but his fingers were twitching on the -spokes of the wheel; he saw from the expression of Harper's eyes that -the boy needed no assistance. For one tense moment, as they stood -there on the sloping deck, a faint light shining on them from the open -companionway, anything seemed possible. Had Mc-Glory been a coward he -would have retreated from the blazing figure before him; but he was not -a coward. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, gripped Harper's -arm, and whirled him around. "Go up forward!" he said for the fourth -time. And Pink, swallowing hard, went. - -A gentle sigh escaped the wheelsman. The mate turned on him; but Ole was -gazing out into the dark with an expressionless face. Into the silence -that followed came a gurgling snore from the cabin; if Pink had hoped to -wake the captain, he had failed. And the end of this brief incident was -that McGlory returned below and finished his supper, while the _Merry -Anne_ continued to point nor'east. - -Towards eleven o'clock the moon rose and showed Duck Island six miles -off the port bow. McGlory was again at the wheel. He now brought her up -still closer to the wind, heading a few points off Outer Duck Island and -skimming the lower edge of Jennie Graham Shoal. Huddled up in the bow, -out of the mate's view, Harper and Larsen were watching out ahead, -pulling at their pipes and occasionally exchanging a whispered word or -two. Linding, the third sailor, lay flat on the deck by the windlass, -his head pillowed on a coil of rope, the regular sound of his breathing -telling that he was asleep. Soon Ole's practised eyes made out a bit of -land far off to port, and he pointed it out to his companion. - -"What is it?" - -"Meedle Duck Island, ya-as." - -A few minutes more and they saw a line of coast dead ahead. - -"Manitoulin Island?" whispered Pink. - -"Aye tank." - -On they went until the shore lay plainly before them in the -moonlight,--on until the breeze began to fail them, so close were they -in the shelter of the land. Finally they heard McGlory say in a guarded -voice, "Ready about, up there!" and they sprang to their places. - -It proved a short tack. Hardly a quarter of an hour later, when the land -had faded but a little way into the indistinct night, they came about -again. This time they ran in so directly for the land that Pink grew -nervous. He stood up, pipe in hand, looking back at the mate, then -forward at the shore. The breeze fell away, but they drifted on through -a mirror of shapes and shadows. The trees of the bank loomed before -them, then, it seemed, around them. - -Still the _Merry Anne_ drifted on, her wheelsman turning every stray -breath to advantage. She was in a cove now, though how wide it was or -how far it extended the sailors could not tell, so strangely were the -bluffs and the trees reflected in the water. Drifting, however, is lazy -work, and Harper sat down to it and relighted his pipe, At length the -schooner came lazily up into the wind and McGlory ordered the anchor -overboard. Here was a chance to try to wake the Captain, and the -chance was seized; but even the dank and rattle of the chain failed to -interrupt the snoring in the cabin. - -"Linding," said McGlory, "come back here." - -Larsen and Harper looked at each other,--they had not told -Linding,--then between them they woke him and sent him aft. - -Without a word the mate motioned the sailor to help him lower the boat -over the stern. - -"He's goin' ashore," whispered Harper. Ole nodded. "He's beckonin' for -us--say, Ole, shall we go?" - -But the Swede started promptly aft. The habit of obedience is so strong -in a well-dis-posed sailor that only great provocation will overthrow -it. With but a moment's hesitation, Harper followed. - -"Climb down there," said the mate; "and mind you're quiet about it." - -Down they went; McGlory came after and took the rudder; and, propelled -by two pairs of oars, the boat slipped away, crossed a patch of -moonlight, and entered the mysterious region of shadows. - -"Way enough--easy now!" - -They literally could not distinguish the shore--it was all distorted, -unnatural. They dragged the oars in the water and looked over their -shoulders. Linding was in the bow with a long boat-hook ready in his -hands. Then they found themselves floating quietly alongside a narrow -landing pier, and it was necessary to tumble in the oars in a hurry. - -Linding checked the boat's headway, the others reached out and caught -the planking with their hands; and McGlory stepped out. - -"Make her fast," he said, "and come ashore." - -They obeyed. - -"Now, boys,"--he seemed of a sudden to be making an attempt at -good-nature,--"I want you to wait here for me. I 'll be back in five -minutes." And walking along a path that mounted the bluff, he left them -standing there. - -For a few moments they were silent. Then Harper spoke up: "Look here -fellows, I don't know how it strikes you, but I'm hanged if I like this -way o' doin' business. What we'd better do is to pull right back an' -wake the Cap'n." - -"Meester McGlory, she haf geef us orders, ya-as?" - -"What's that got to do with it?" - -But the two Swedes shook their heads. They were slow of body and mind; -the idea of rowing off without the mate was too daring. "You won't do -it, then?" - -They looked at each other. - -"All right," said Harper, pulling off his coat, "all right. Have it your -way. But I'm goin' back, an' I'm goin' now." He tossed his coat into the -boat, pulled off his boots and threw them after, let himself down into -the water, waded a few steps, and struck out for the schooner. It was -but a little way. He swam around to the stern, and drew himself up by -the boat tackle, which had been left hanging down close to the water. -Rushing down into the cabin, where a single lantern burned dimly, he -bent over the Captain, who lay dressed in his bunk, and shook him. - -"Wake up, Cap'n, wake up!" - -"Lemme be, will you?" - -"Wake up! It's me--Harper." - -"I don't care if it is. You needn't drown me." - -"But, Cap'n!" - -"Well, what's the row?" Slowly Dick raised his head and looked around. -"Good Lord! What time is it?" - -"Twelve o'clock." - -"Twelve o'clock _what!_" - -"Midnight." - -"Midnight your gran'ma!" - -"But it is. Mr. McGlory, he--" - -"Just let go o' me, will you? Go over there and drip on the steps." Dick -was slowly swinging his feet around and sitting up. "You've soaked my -bedding now. What's the matter with you anyhow? Been trying to swim -home?" - -"No, Cap'n, but Ole says we're up at--" - -"See here, why haven't I been waked up?" - -"Mr. McGlory wouldn't let me wake you." - -"Wouldn't let you?" - -"No, he--" - -"What's the matter with your lip?" - -"McGlory hit me." - -"Hit you!" Dick sprang to his feet. "What in thunder are you talking -about?" - -"I'm tryin' to tell you, Cap'n, if you 'll just listen--" - -"Go on, be quick about it." - -"You've been sleepin' ever since we left Middle Island. Ole an' me we -seen that the course was nor'east instead o' nor'west, an' I was goin' -to wake you, but he wouldn't let me, an' I hollered loud but it -didn't wake you, an' now we're in a place Ole thinks is Burnt Cove on -Manitoulin Island, an'--an' Mr. McGlory's made me row him ashore, an' -told us to wait there for him, an' I swum back to wake you--" - -Dick was standing close to Harper, staring at him with a mixture of -astonishment and incredulity. Now he brushed him aside and ran up the -steps. Sure enough, on every side were trees and the shadows of trees. -The Lake was not to be seen. He turned again to Harper who was close at -his elbow. "Where's the boat?" - -"Right over there--not a hundred yards." - -"Ole!" called Dick. - -"Ya-as." - -"Bring that boat back and hustle about it." - -In a moment they heard the clanking of oars, and soon the boat appeared -in the moonlight and ran alongside. - -"What are you doing there?" said Dick. - -"Mees' McGlory, she say to wait." - -"Oh, she does, does she! Well, we 'll see about it." He leaped down to -the boat and took the stern. "Pull ashore." - -"Cap'n," said Harper, "will you let me go?" - -"Sure, if you want to. Take Linding's place. Linding, you stay on the -schooner. And mind, there's nobody but me giving orders around here. -Pull away, boys." - -The landing pier was deserted when they ran alongside. "Which way did he -go?" asked Dick, as he stepped out. - -Harper pointed at the dim path. - -"How long ago was it?" - -"Just a few minutes." - -"All right. We 'll wait here." He sat down with his back against a post, -and filled his pipe. "Got a match, Pink? Oh, I forgot, you're wet. Ole, -give me a match." He lighted up and settled back to smoke and think. - -McGlory had evidently walked some little distance back from the Cove, -for nearly ten minutes passed before they heard his step in the brush. -Dick sat still until he saw the mate coming down the bluff, then he -said, "Get aboard, McGlory." - -At the first word McGlory stopped short. - -"Well," Dick added, rising, "how long are you going to keep us waiting?" - -Still there was no word from the motionless figure. Not until Dick -stepped to the stern of the boat did he speak. "Come up here a minute, -will you, Cap'n? I want to speak to you." - -"You can do any speaking you have to do on the schooner. Swing around, -Pink. I 'll hold her." - -"Just a minute, Cap'n, you know what I mean." - -"All I know about you is that you can't be trusted." - -"Seems to me you're gettin' mighty innocent all to once." - -"You can have your choice, McGlory, of getting aboard or staying behind. -For my part, I'd a heap sight rather leave you behind." - -"You needn't talk that way. I know what I'm doin'--I know I'm not to -talk to you--" - -"All right, Pink,"--Dick stepped into the boat,--"let her go." - -McGlory turned and looked back up the path, as if listening. Then -suddenly he ran out on the landing and got aboard just as the men were -pushing off. He took the bow thwart, and settled down without a word. -When they reached the schooner, he got out the boat-hook, and held her -steady while Dick climbed out. - -"That 'll do there," said Dick, when McGlory and Larsen were hoisting -the boat up to the davits. "Let her down again. Pink, you'd better take -Linding and sound the channel ahead of us. We 'll start right out." - -"That ain't necessary," put in the mate, hurriedly; "I can take her -out." - -Dick turned and looked him over sharply. "How do I know you wouldn't run -her aground? You seem to be raising the devil generally." - -"I ain't a fool," replied the mate, with an impatient gesture. - -"I'd feel a little safer if you were. Well, all right, Pink, make her -fast. We 'll let him try it." - -McGlory took the wheel, and Dick sat by him on the cabin trunk. They -went out as they had come in, gaining a rod here and a yard there, as -the vagrant night breezes stirred the trees and faintly rippled the -water. Up forward the men settled down as quietly as if working out of -Burnt Cove after midnight were a part of the daily routine. Dick smoked -in silence. The mate alone was nervous. For some reason he seemed -as anxious now to get out of the Cove as he had been to get into it. -Occasionally his eyes wandered back toward the darker spot where the -landing was. Once he seemed to hear something,--they were then in sight -of the open lake,--and he swung her off quickly to gain headway. Finally -Dick asked:-- - -"Got another o' your lady friends stowed away up here?" - -The mate grunted. - -"Maybe you thought you'd just drop around for a little call. That the -idea?" - -"No, that ain't the idea." - -"I didn't know you were a Mormon." - -Another grunt. - -"Case o' temporary mental aberration, perhaps. You thought you owned the -schooner. Or maybe you dreamed I was going to give it to you--not for -its intrinsic value, but as a token of affection _and_ esteem. That it?" - -"No, that ain't it, an' you know it ain't." - -"Oh, I'm in the secret, am I?" - -McGlory leaned across the wheel and looked at him. "Are you a-tryin' to -make me think you don't know why I come here?" - -"I certainly am." - -"Well, you beat me." - -"Then we're in the same condition. It isn't exactly usual, you know, to -take another man's schooner off for a summer cruise without asking him -if he don't mind. Of course, between friends, it's all right---only -there are some little formalities that are customary. But I suppose you -aren't going to tell me anything about it--why you did it." - -The mate said nothing. They were now slipping out into deep water, where -the breeze could fill the sails, and the schooner began to heel and to -nose through the ripples with a grateful sound. The light was stronger -out here, and the mate could see the Captain's face more plainly. What -he saw there answered several questions that lay, unspoken, in his mind. - -"I 'll take the wheel now," said Dick. "Hold on, don't you go forward. -Wait here till I get through with you." He raised his voice and called -to the others. "Come back here, boys, all o' you." And when the crew -was grouped about the wheel: "Pink, here, is going to be my mate for -the rest o' this trip. I want you to take his orders the same as if -they were mine. McGlory has nothing more to say on this schooner. That's -all." - -The men looked at each other. The Swedes were slow to grasp what was -said. McGlory stood back in the shadow, and his face told nothing. -Harper was excited. - -"That's all, I tell you. You can go back." - -They went at this--all but Pink, who lingered. "Cap'n--" - -"Well, what is it?" - -"I was just goin' to say--it's more'n square--you've been more'n white -to me--" - -"Hold on there. You needn't bother about engrossing any resolutions. -You 'll find it hard enough." - -"Well--I'm mighty obliged for--" - -"Not at all." - -Thirty-six hours later, when the Merry Anne was slipping through the -islands west of the straits and heading southward for the run down Lake -Michigan, McGlory slipped aft and addressed Harper, who had the wheel. -"I was sort o' hasty awhile ago, Pink, when I hit you that time. I hope -you ain't a-layin' it up against me." - -Pink stared at him, but offered no reply. - -"I was a little excited. You see, Cap'n Smiley's a good sailor, but he -don't know where his own interest is." - -"I ain't got nothin' to say to you about Cap'n Smiley." - -"I know. Say, you ain't got no objections to turnin' an honest penny, -have you? - -"That depends." - -"Or say maybe it was a neat little five hundred--good hard stuff." - -"Where's it cornin' from?" - -"You know where we was--over in Canada?" - -"I ought to." - -"Well, Smiley knows all about that." - -"The---------he does!" - -"Sure thing. He's been there before, more'n once." - -"Funny he didn't know the channel then. There ain't a place around the -Lakes he couldn't sail the _Anne_ through if he'd smelled it once." - -"I know. That's the queer part of it. He knows it with his eyes shut. He -had some reason or other for puttin' up the bluff he did, an' I'd give -just about ten round dollars to know what it was." - -"Better ask him." - -"Watch me. This ain't the kind o' thing you can talk out about. I know -he knows, an' he knows I know; but he's down on me an' there's nothin' I -can say--here, anyway." - -"What do you want o' me?" - -"You're the right sort--you've got nerve an' a head on you. Help me -carry this business through, an' I 'll divvy up with you--five hundred, -sure, to start with." - -"What am I to do?" - -"Nothin' hard. You've got a good stand in with Smiley. Just put in a -word for me, so's he won't fire me before another trip, anyway. You -fellows made a mistake this time in not standin' by me. I can do better -by you than he can--a lot better. Help me to stay aboard for the next -trip, an' I 'll hand you fifty right now for a sweetener." - -"Well, I 'll see what I can do." - -"I've got the fifty down below. I 'll get it." - -"Hold on--don't be in a hurry. You'd better see what I can do for you -before you do any sweetenin'." - -McGlory nodded and slipped back to his station. When the watch was -changed, he went below and settled down to writing a letter on crumpled -paper with a pencil. He seemed to be thinking hard. Three times he made -a start, only to hold the paper up to the lantern, shake his head over -it, tear it up, and stuff the pieces into his pocket. But the fourth -attempt, which follows, suited him better. - -"Dear Estelle: I ain't done the trick I was going to do this trip. The -Captain woke up too soon and stoped me. But I've got a fellow here on -bord that's going to see me threw next trip so don't you go down to -Saginaw yet. Wait til you see me at Spencer's and Ile tell you al about -the scheme itll be worth a thousand cool anyway I should say its worth -waiting for. I'm doing it for you you know so don't you get impatent but -just wait a litle longer and we 'll have a gay old time. - -"Joe." - -When he gave the wheel to Dick, Harper repeated to him the whole -conversation and asked him what he made of it. - -"Give it up." - -"You don't think he's layin' for you, do you? I couldn't tell what he -was up to. Of course he wouldn't hardly let me see into his game the -first time we talked." - -"Oh, no,--hardly." - -"Will I go on lettin' him talk to me?" - -"If you see any fun in it." - -"It ain't that--I thought maybe we could find out what he's after." - -"I don't want to know about it." - -"But you don't think he 'll try to--stick it into you anyway?" - -"Let him try. He can't do much harm." - -"Well--" - -"Take my advice, Pink, and quit thinking about him. I don't like this -business any more than you do, but the worse it is the less I want to -know about it. When we get back we 'll fire him, and that will end it." - -"Don't you think we'd better tie him up, or somethin'?" - -"That wouldn't do any good. You'd better tumble below and get some -sleep. There's nothing like it when you're a little worked up." - -Dick had indeed something else to think of than his rascal of a mate. -Only four days of sailing, if the wind should hold, lay between the -_Merry Anne_ and the Annie for whom she had been named. These days would -slip away before he knew it, and then? The uncertainty was hard, but -still he dreaded the meeting--that might be harder still. - -Off Waukegan on the last day the wind swung around to the south, nearly -dead ahead; and as the schooner lost headway and was forced into beating -to windward, the dread suddenly gave place to impatience. So variable -were his thoughts indeed, as the miles slipped astern and the long -green bluff that ends in Grosse Pointe grew nearer and plainer, that his -courage oozed away. - -Far down the Lake, between the Lake View crib and the horizon, was a -speck of a sail. Dick's heart sank--he knew as if he could make out the -painted name that it was the _Captain_. He watched it hungrily as the -_Merry Anne_, headed in close to the waterworks pier, swept easily -around, and started on the last outward tack. Then he called to Pink, -and had the sheets hauled close; and he laughed softly and nervously as -the schooner responded with a list to port and a merry little fling -of spray. He could at least come in with a rush, with all his colors -flying. - -He was waiting for the tiny sail to swing around and point northward. -He was disappointed. He reached for the glass and took a long look--then -lowered it, and smiled bitterly. There were two figures seated in the -stern of the _Captain_. - -The _Schmidt_ was lying on the south side of the pier; and the wind -enabled Dick to come easily up on the opposite side and make fast. It -was late in the afternoon, and Dick released the two Swedes, both of -whom had families on shore. Then he crossed the pier, between the high -piles of lumber, and found Henry sitting quietly, as usual, in his -cabin. - -To the older man's greeting Dick responded moodily. "I want to talk to -you, Henry. What's my reputation, anyhow, among the boys? Do they call -me mean, or a driver, or hard to get along with?" - -Henry looked at him curiously, and shook his head. "I never heard -anything of that sort. Your row with Roche was the only thing, and I -guess he was a poor stick." - -"Well, I'm through with McGlory, too." - -"Through with him?" Henry was startled. "You haven't discharged him?" - -"No, but I'm going to to-night. I've brought him back here, and he wants -to stay, but I won't have him aboard another minute." - -"What's the trouble?" - -Dick gave him the whole story, including the conversation between -McGlory and Harper up in the straits. - -"I don't like the sound of it very well," said Henry, when he had -finished. "Couldn't you get on with him a little longer?" - -"After that?" - -"I know--there is some deviltry behind it. But still he is a good man. -You 'll have hard work finding a better. And honest, I would kind of hate -to face Cap'n Stenzenberger myself with this story." - -"Why? I can't have a man around that's going to steal my schooner in my -sleep." - -"Oh, well, he could never do that again. I can't see what he was -thinking of. Do you see into it at all?" - -Dick had been staring at the cabin table. At this question he raised his -eyes, for an instant, with an odd expression. "I know all I want to. -The whole thing is so outrageous that I am not going to try to follow it -up." - -"He talked to your man about a rake-off, didn't he?" - -Dick nodded. - -"What do you suppose he was going to rake?" - -Dick, whose eyes were lowered, and who was therefore unconscious of the -pallor of his cousin's face, said nothing. - -"I know we don't look at some things quite the same, Dick," Henry went -on. "But if anybody on _my_ schooner is going to do any raking, he has -got to see me first. A dollar's a dollar, my boy. When you are my age, -you will think so too." - -"I don't mix in this business." - -"No more would I. But it seems to me, if McGlory's got some way of his -own of making a little pile, and if you could have your share for just -letting him stay aboard, you'd be sort of a fool not to do it." - -"Excuse _me!_" - -Henry smiled indulgently. "There's nothing very bad in what you have -told me. Of course, if there are things you _haven'_t told me, it might -make a difference." - -"You have the whole story." - -"Do you know, Dick, you make me think of the folks up at the college -here. You know that brewer that died repentant and left five hundred -thousand dollars to the Biblical School? Well, a lot of the old -preachers got stirred up over it and made them refuse the money-- -made 'em refuse five hundred thousand cash! Good Lord! if these -particular folks would look into the private history of all the dollars -in the country, they'd never touch one of them,--not one. There isn't a -dollar of the lot that hasn't got a bad spot somewhere, like the rest -of us. The main thing is, are your own hands clean when you take it? If -they are, the dollar can't hurt you." - -"But look here, Henry, my mind's made up about this. I won't have that -fellow on my schooner." - -"Going to turn him off to-night?" - -"Yes, right now." - -"All right. You can send him over here. I 'll give him a bunk till -morning. But what are you going to do for a mate?" - -"Pink is all right. I could go farther and do worse." - -"All right. Tell Joe to bring his things along." - - - - -CHAPTER VI--THE RED SEAL LABEL - - -[Illustration: 0152] - -IT was on Friday morning that the _Merry Anne_ had sailed away from -Lakeville for her first trip to Spencer's. On this same Friday another -set of persons were passing through a series of events which concern -this story. - -Dick had sailed out at daybreak. A few hours later, when the morning -was still young, Roche, who had come down by train from Manistee, was -hanging about near "The Teamster's Friend." now standing on the corner -by the lumber office looking stealthily up and down the street, now -passing by on the opposite sidewalk, closely watching the screened -windows. Finally he crossed over and entered the saloon to ask for -McGlory. Murphy, the senior partner in the business, who lived a -few blocks away, came in for his day's work and found Roche there. -"McGlory," said Murphy, "won't be back for a week or so." At this, with -an angry exclamation, Roche went out. The quantity of bad whiskey he had -taken in since his discharge from the _Merry Anne_ at the Manistee pier, -had not worked to change his humor or to calm his faculties. He was -plunging around the lumber office into a side street when Beveridge, who -had been watching his every movement, accosted him. - -"Beg pardon, have you got a match?" - -"Hey? What's that?" - -"Have you got a match?" - -"A match? Why, sure." - -"Much obliged. I've got the cigars. Better make a fair trade. You 'll -find 'em a good smoke." - -"Well, don't care 'f I do. Here, you can't light in this wind." - -"Oh, yes, I'm Irish. Say, haven't I seen you somewhere?" - -"Couldn't say." - -"Why, sure I have. Isn't your name Roche?" - -"That's what it is." - -"And you're mate of the _Merry Anne_, sailing out of Lakeville?" - -"You're wrong there." - -"No, I'm sure of it. I've seen you too many times." - -"Why, do you b'long out there?" - -"Yes, I live at Lakeville." - -"Well, look here; I 'll tell you how it is. I was on the _Merry Anne_, -but I ain't any more." - -"Oh, you quit Smiley?" - -"You're right, I quit him. No more Smiley for me." - -"What's the trouble?" - -"What _ain't_ the trouble, you'd better say. But I ain't tellin'. -Smiley's done me dirt, an' I know 'im for just what he is, but I ain't -tellin'." - -They were passing another saloon, and Roche accepted an invitation to -step in. - -"I've seen Smiley a good deal around the piers," said the young fellow, -when they were seated. "Likes to swagger some, doesn't he?" - -"Oh, he's no good." - -"Mean to work for? Those conceited fellows generally are." - -"He's mean, yes. But that ain't the worst thing about him." Roche paused -guardedly, and glanced around the empty room. - -"I don't know much about him myself, just seen him now and then. But of -course I've heard things. - -"I 'll tell you right here, you arn't the only one that 'll be hearin' -things before much longer." Another cautious glance around. "You don't -happen to know anythin' about law, do you?" - -"I've studied it some." - -"Well, look here. I know some things about Dick Smiley, and if it was -worth my while, I'd tell 'em. But you see, I am an honest man, an' I've -got my livin' to make, an' he's just cute enough to lie about me an' try -to drag me down with 'im. Folks might say I didn't quit him the first -minute I found 'im out. I can't run no risks, you see." - -"I can tell you this much--but, of course, it's none of my business." - -"Go on." - -"Well, it depends on the case. But if he has done anything serious, -and if the authorities find it hard to get evidence against him, you -probably wouldn't have any trouble, even if you were right in with him. -A man can turn state's evidence, you know." - -"But I wasn't in with 'im. When I'd found him out, I quit him--the first -good chance I got." - -"Yes, of course. But it all depends. I couldn't tell you anything more, -because I don't know the case. It all depends on how bad they want him." - -"They want him bad enough." He dropped his voice, and leaned across the -table. "Did you ever hear o' Whiskey Jim?" - -"You don't mean to say--" - -Roche nodded. - -"Why, man, you're rich." - -"How do you make that out?" - -"Haven't you seen the papers?" - -Roche shook his head. - -"There's a reward of five thousand up for Whiskey Jim." - -"Who 'll give it?" - -"The Consolidated Dealers. You see, there has been a counterfeit label, -of the Red Seal brand, on the market; and I understand the liquor men -have been running it down and putting the Treasury Agents on the track -to protect their business." - -"Fi' thousand, eh? An' do you think we could make it?" - -"If you have the evidence to convict this Whiskey Jim, we can. But now, -before we go into this, what sort of an arrangement will you make with -me if I steer it through for you?" - -"What would you want?" - -"Well--I should go at it something like this. I should go to the United -States Treasury officials and tell them I could get them the evidence -they want if they would agree not to prosecute us. It would take some -managing, but it can be done. But I can't do it for nothing." - -"What do you want?" - -"Say one thousand. That's twenty per cent." - -"Too much." - -"Not for the work to be done. Remember, I agree to get you off without -any more trouble than just giving in your evidence." - -"But I don't need to get off. I ain't done nothin'." - -"No, I understand. Of course not." - -"Say five hundred, and it's a go." - -"No, sir. I can't do it for that. I might take seven hundred and fifty, -but--" - -"It's too much, a--------sight too much. You'd ought to do it for less." - -"Couldn't think of it." - -"Well--" - -"Is it a go?" - -"I suppose so." - -"All right. That's understood. If I can get the five thousand for you, -you will hand me seven hundred and fifty. Now, I suppose the sooner we -get at this, the better for both of us. When can I see you and talk it -over?" - -"You might come around this afternoon." - -"Say two o'clock?" - -"That's all right." - -"Where do you live?" - -"I'm stoppin' over on North Clark. Forty-two-seventy-two an' a half, -third floor. You 'll be around, then, will you, Mr.--Mr.--" - -"Bedloe's my name. Yes, I 'll be there at two sharp." - -But at two o'clock, when Beveridge called at the boarding-house on North -Clark Street he found that Roche was gone. "He only stopped here a day," -said the landlady. "This noon he paid me and said he was called out of -town by a telegram." - -"Did he say when he would be back?" - -"He didn't know." - -"Did he leave his things?" - -"No. What little he had he took along." Beveridge turned thoughtfully -away and walked around the corner, where Wilson was awaiting him. He had -no means of knowing that Roche was already well on the way to Spencer, -where Smiley saw him a few days later. - -"Not there, Bill?" asked Wilson. - -"No,--skipped." - -"Lost his nerve, eh?" - -"I guess so." - -"Well, what now?" - -"Nothing, until I see Madge to-night." - -"Do you really expect anything there?" - -"I don't know. It's a chance, that's all." - -"Do you think she 'll keep her promise?" - -"Couldn't say. I 'll give her a chance, anyhow." - -She did keep it. Very shortly after five, while Beveridge was riding -slowly up and down near the meeting-place, he saw her coming, and his -eyes lighted up with surprise. He could not know how much thought had -been given to the effect which pleased him so; he only observed that she -looked like a young girl in her short wheeling skirt and leggings, and -with her natty little cap and well-arranged hair. - -They found St. Paul's Park gay with lights and music when they arrived. -Dancing had been going on all the afternoon on the open-air -platform. The ring-the-cane booth, the -every-time-you-knock-the-baby-down-you-get-a-five-cent-cigar booth, were -surrounded by uproarious country folk, with only here and there a city -face among them. A little way down the slope, through the grove, ran the -sluggish North Branch, a really inviting spot in the twilight; and to -this spot it was that Beveridge led the way after checking the wheels. - -"The boats don't amount to much," he said to Madge, as he helped her -down the bank, "but I guess we can have a good time, anyhow." - -She did not reply to this, but there was a sparkle in her eyes and a -flush on her cheek, as she stepped lightly into the boat, that drew an -admiring glance from Beveridge. - -He took the clumsy oars, and pulled upstream, under the railroad bridge, -past all the other boats, on into the farming country, where the banks -were green and shaded. - -"Pretty nice, isn't it?" said he. - -She nodded. They could hear the music in the distance, and occasionally -the voices; but around them was nothing but the cool depths of an oak -copse. She was half reclining in the stern, looking lazily at the dim -muscular outlines of her oarsman. "You row well," she said. - -"I ought to. I was brought up on water." - -"You don't know how this takes me back," said Madge, dreamily. "I -couldn't tell you how long it is since I have been out in the country -like this." - -He pulled a few strokes before replying, "Didn't McGlory ever take you -out?" - -"I don't like to think about him now. Let's talk of something else." - -"I'm glad you don't like to. That's the only thing that bothers me." - -"What--Joe?" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, he needn't bother you." - -"I can't help it. You see, you're--" - -"His wife? Yes, so I am. But I'm--" - -"What, Madge?" - -"I don't know what you would think if I said it." - -"Say it, please." - -She glanced into his face. He saw with surprise that her eyes were -shining. "Well--I was--going to say--that--that--I'm about through with -him." - -"Do you mean that, Madge?" - -She was silent; perhaps she had not meant to say so much. - -"Has he been ugly to you?" - -"It isn't his meanness altogether. If that were all, I could have stood -it. I have tried hard enough to love him all the while. Even after he -first struck me--" - -"You don't mean--" - -She smiled, half bitterly, and rolled her sleeve up above her elbow. -Even in that faint light he could see the discoloration on her forearm. -"He meant it for my head," she said. - -"Why, he's a brute." - -She smiled again. "Didn't you know that a woman can love a brute? It -wasn't that. Even when he made me live in the saloon, and when I found -out what his business really was--" she paused. "I was brought up a -little better than this, you know." - -"Yes, I have always thought that." - -"And when I learned that he wasn't--well, honest, I don't believe I -should have cared very much." - -"Oh, I guess he is not dishonest, is he?" - -"He is bad enough, I'm afraid. He--I don't know--I don't believe it -would do any good to tell you--" - -"No, don't, if you'd rather not, Madge." - -"I don't care--I'd just as soon. You don't know what a relief it is to -have somebody I can talk out with. I have guarded my tongue so long. And -I suppose, even after all that is past, that if he hadn't left me--" - -"You don't mean that he has gone?" - -She nodded. "It comes to the same thing. He will drop in once in a -while, I suppose. But he has gone back to the Lake with Captain Smiley, -and that means that he wants to see--" she turned toward the shadow of -the oaks--"there's somebody up in Michigan that--that he--" - -"Oh," said Beveridge. - -"Yes, I have known it a long while." She turned, looked at him, and -spoke impetuously: "Do you think I haven't been fair to him? Do you -think he--anybody--could say I hadn't stood all a woman ought to stand?" - -Her real emotion caught Beveridge off his guard. For an instant he -hesitated; then he said gently: "Don't let it disturb you now, Madge. -I don't think he can bother you much more. There is no reason why that -shouldn't all slip into the past." - -"I wish it could." - -Beveridge was silent for a moment. He wished to lead her into telling -all she knew about McGlory and his ways, yet he hesitated to abuse the -confidence so frankly offered. But, however--"There is one thing about -it, though, Madge," he said quietly. "If he is on the Lake, he will have -to go where his boat goes, and there isn't much chance for him to get -into bad ways. Even if, as you think, he is dishonest, he will have to -behave himself until he gets back to town." - -"You don't understand," she cried. "It is just there, on the water, that -he can do the most harm. I'm going to tell you, anyway. I don't care. -He is a smuggler, or a moonshiner, or something,--I don't know what you -would call it." - -"A moonshiner--here in Chicago!" - -She nodded nervously. "He is only one of them. I have known it for a -long time, and sometimes I have thought I ought to speak out, but then -he--oh, you don't know what a place he has put me into--what he has -dragged me to! There is one thing I will say for Joe,--he is not the -worst of them. The rest are smarter than he is, and I believe they have -used him for a cat's-paw. But he is bad enough." - -"You don't know how hard this is to believe, Madge. That a man sailing -on a decent lumber schooner can manage to do enough moonshining--or even -smuggling--to hurt anybody--" - -"But that is just it! It is in the lumber." - -"In the lumber!" He had stopped rowing, and was leaning forward. Had her -own excitement been less, she could hardly have failed to observe the -eager note in his voice. - -"Yes--oh, I know about it. But it's no use saying anything. They will -never catch the head man--he is too smart for them--" Beveridge took her -hand, and held it gently in both his own. "Don't let's think any more -about any of them, Madge. I don't wonder it excites you--it would -anybody. But you are through with them all now." She sat up, rigid, and -looked at him. "Are you sure I am?" - -"Yes." - -"But how? Joe is my husband. Tell me what you mean. What am I to think? -You see what I have done. I have let you bring me out here; I have--I -have told you things that could put Joe in prison. Do you--do you mean -that you can help me--that I can get free from him?" - -For a moment Beveridge thought of turning and rowing back. But he was -not yet through. The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but he -would not retreat now. - -"You are willing to be free?" he whispered. "Oh--yes." - -"To leave him forever?" - -"Yes." - -"Then we understand each other, Madge. It may take some time." - -"I don't care--I don't care for anything now." - -"I shall have to do some thinking." - -"Do you think it will be hard?" - -"No, but we shall see. Shall we start back--I'm afraid you won't get -home till pretty late, now." - -"It doesn't matter; I'm alone there now, you know. But still, perhaps -we'd better." As they rowed down the stream, and later, on the ride back -to the city, Beveridge could not but be fascinated by Madge, in the flow -of spirits that had come with the freedom of this evening. She liked -to look at him and to laugh at his little jokes. She caressed him in a -hundred ways with her voice and her eyes. She rode her wheel with the -lightness of youth, and led the way flying down the paved streets of the -city. And when at last she dismounted at "The Teamster's Friend," and -unlocked the side door, she was in a merry glow. - -"Come in," she said. - -"Don't you want to get to sleep? It is late." - -"I'm not tired. We must have something to eat after that ride. Wasn't it -fine?" - -So he went in with her, and they sat down to a cold lunch in the dining -room. - -When he rose to go, and they were both lingering in the dining-room -door, he said, smiling, "By the way, Madge, while I think of it, I want -an empty bottle." - -"Come out into the bar-room. You can help yourself." - -She lighted the gas for him, and he went in behind the bar and rummaged -among some bottles and flasks that stood on the floor. At length he -found one that seemed to suit him, and stood a moment looking intently -at the label. - -"Do you find what you want?" - -"Yes, this will do first-rate." - -She followed him to the door, and said, as he stood on the step, "When -am I to see you again?" - -"In a few days." - -"Not to-morrow?" - -"No, I'm afraid not. I expect to be out of the city over Sunday. I have -to go where I'm sent, you know." - -"Do you know," she said, with a smile, "you have not told me anything -about your business? Why, I hardly think I know anything about you." - -"You will soon know enough." - -She smiled again. "Wait, you will have to be a little careful about -coming. Mr. Murphy goes away about ten o'clock every night. You might -come a little later, and then if Joe isn't here, I will be down. If you -don't see me, you mustn't ask any questions." - -"I won't." - -"And you will be thinking about--" - -"Yes. We 'll talk it over next time. Good night." - -"Good night," she replied. And when he had walked a little way, he heard -her humming a tune to herself in the doorway. - -Wilson was sitting in the shadow on the steps of the lumber office. He -rose and came forward. - -"Hello, Bill!" - -"That you, Bert?" - -"What's left of me. If I'd known you were going to be gone half the -night, I'd have brought a blanket." - -"Couldn't help it." - -"I suppose not. Not even if she'd been fifty-five, with red hair and a -squint, eh?" Beveridge, instead of laughing, made an impatient gesture. -"Come out here in the light, Bert. Nobody around, is there?" - -"No. Our friend the policeman went by ten minutes ago. Just as well he -didn't see you with your friend. They say he's a chum of McGlory's." - -"See what you think of this," said Bedloe, drawing the bottle from under -his coat. - -"Hello, you don't mean to say you've got it?" - -"Take a good look." - -"Yes, sir. Well, I 'll be----! There's the red seal, and the left foot -a little out of drawing, and the right hand turned out instead of in, -and--is it?--yes, an imperfection in the capital C. Yes, sir, you've -got it! I won't say another word, Bill. You're a wizard. You must have -hypnotized her." - -"Well, I got it. No matter how. And I got something else, too. Here, -step into the lumber yard before we're seen. Stenzenberger doesn't keep -a private watchman, does he?" - -"No. He doesn't need it, with his friendly hold on the police." - -A board was loose in the rear fence. Within a very few minutes the two -men were stepping cautiously between the piles of lumber, Beveridge -peering eagerly into the shadows, his companion watching him and -following close behind. - -"Wish we'd brought a lantern, Bill." - -"I thought of it. But it would hardly be safe." - -"Come this way--over by the Murphy and McGlory shed. That's where it -would have to be handled." - -Silently they tiptoed forward, reaching out with their hands, to avoid a -collision with the projecting timbers. Once Beveridge tripped and would -have fallen if Wilson had not caught his arm. "Wait--keep still, Bert!" - -"It's all right. We're way back from the street here." - -"It isn't the street I'm watching. See that light?" He pointed up to a -second-story window in the adjoining building. "She's still up; and it's -awful quiet around here." - -A moment later Beveridge stopped and sniffed. - -"What is it, Bill?" - -"Don't you smell anything?" - -"Ye-yes, guess I do, a little. But there are a lot of old kegs and -bottles on the other side of the fence." - -"There are no old kegs about this." He moved forward, feeling and -sniffing his way along a pile of twelve-by-twelve timbers. "Here, have -you that big jack-knife on you, Bert?" - -"Yes; here it is." - -Cautiously, very cautiously, Beveridge began prying at the end of one of -the big sticks. - -"Shall I lend a hand, Bill?" - -"No; it's got to be done without leaving any signs of our being here. It -may take time--the thing is in for keeps, all right." - -During fully a quarter of an hour they stood there, Beveridge prying -with the long blade of the knife, his companion watching him without a -word. Finally Beveridge gave a suppressed exclamation. - -"Fetched her?" - -"Yes. Take hold--easy now." - -Together they pulled a long, circular plug from the end of the timber, -and set it on the ground. - -"Just put your arm in there, Bert." - -"Well, I 'll be----! Did she tell you about this?" - -"She certainly did." - -"But how did you do it, man, without letting on?" - -"Never mind about that," replied Beveridge, shortly. - -"Yes, sir. It's all there--no end of it." - -"All right now; that's enough. Let's put the plug back. Now's the time -for us to go slow." - -"You're right there. Even with this it will be awful hard to bring it -home. The next thing to get is the man. I wish we knew where that fellow -Roche went. What do you think?" - -"I'd be willing to buy him a new hat if he isn't on the train for -northern Michigan just about now. But we don't need him very bad. We -want a bigger man than him." - - - - -CHAPTER VII--DRAWING TOGETHER - - -[Illustration: 0178] - -THE eleven days Dick had given her for considering were going faster -than any other days Annie had known. To make it worse, she had to pass -them alone, for Beveridge, who was always diverting, hardly appeared -after Dick sailed away. It was now the afternoon of the tenth day, a -bright, cool afternoon with a southerly breeze and a rippling lake. She -was in her room, looking out at the pier, where the _Schmidt_ lay, when -a voice caught her ear. She stepped nearer to the window and then could -see Beveridge and his friend Wilson standing on the beach. While -she looked, Wilson said good-by, and strolled over to the pier; and -Beveridge turned irresolutely toward the house on stilts, looking up at -the flowering balcony. - -Annie remembered that she had not watered her flowers. She always waited -until the shadows crept around to the eastern side of the house; they -were here now, so, filling her pitcher, she stepped out. Beveridge, -fully recovered from the odd sensations of his evening with Madge, -raised his cap, but found that she had turned her back on him and was -absorbed in her forget-me-nots. "Annie," he called, "aren't you going to -speak to me?" - -"Oh,"--she came to the railing,--"oh, how do you do?" - -"Won't you come out?" - -"Why--I suppose I might." - -"All right. I 'll wait down here." When she appeared on the steps, he -suggested a sail. - -"I don't mind--if the wind holds. It's not very strong, and it may go -down with the sun." She was looking about from lake to sky with the easy -air of a veteran mariner; and he was looking at her. - -"Let's chance it." - -So they pushed out; and at the moment when Dick and the _Merry Anne_ -were coasting along the bluffs above Grosse Pointe the _Captain_ was -skimming out on a long tack for the Lake View reef. - -Little was said until they were entering on the second mile, then this -from Beveridge, lounging on the windward rail, "Have you been thinking -about our talk that evening, Annie?" - -"Oh, dear!" thought she; but she said nothing. - -"You haven't forgotten what I said?" - -"Oh, the evening you came up for me?" - -"Yes, and Smiley came later." - -"But you don't--you don't want me to think that you meant--" - -"But I did, Annie. Do you remember I told you I thought I had a fair -chance to be something in the world? Well, I'm nearer it than I thought, -even then. There are a good many things I'm going to tell you some -day,--not just yet,--but when you know them, you 'll understand why I've -dared to talk this way. If I didn't believe I was going to be able to -do for you all you could want, and more; if I didn't feel pretty sure I -could help you to grow up away from this beach, to get into surroundings -that will set you off as you deserve, I'd never have said a word. But -I _can_ do these things, Annie. And if I could only know that I had the -right to do them for you--I want to take you away from here." - -"But I don't want to leave the beach." - -"I know--I think I understand just how you feel. It's natural--you were -born here--you've never seen anything else. But I can't stay here, and I -can't go without you. I can't get along anywhere without you." - -"But--" - -"What, Annie?" - -"You've got along very--very well, lately." - -"No--that's just it, I haven't. My work has kept me out of town." - -"Your work?" - -"Yes, I've--" - -"Mr. Beveridge, are you a student, or aren't you?" - -"I--" - -"Tell me, please. Some of the things you have said I don't understand." - -"Well--no, I'm not." - -"Then what you have said hasn't been true?" - -"No--some of it hasn't." - -"And yet you--" She hesitated. - -"In a very little while, Annie,--maybe only a day or two,--some -surprising things are going to happen. I wish I could tell you, but I -can't. I have been perfectly honest with you,--no, don't look at me that -way; it is true,--and if I have misled you in one or two little things, -it was only because I couldn't honestly tell you the whole truth yet. -A few days more, and you shall know everything. I'm not a student. If I -were, I could never offer you what I do offer you now." He straightened -up, his eyes lighted, and an eager note in his voice compelled her -attention. "I have made a big strike, Annie, or so near it that it can't -get away from me now. I have no earthly business to tell you this,--I -never talked so to any one before,--but I have offered you everything, -myself and all I have, and it would be poor business not to trust you -with part of my secrets, too. I want you to know, because I trust you; -and because I--I'm going to be able to spare you some disagreeable -scenes." He leaned forward. "Tell me, Annie, when does Dick Smiley come -back?" She turned and looked up the Lake. His eyes followed hers; there, -on the horizon, were the white sails of the _Merry Anne_. - -"Then I can tell you sooner than I thought--to-morrow. To-morrow night -I 'll tell you everything. And maybe you will tell me too--everything. -Will you, Annie? If I come for you to-morrow night and tell you all -about myself, will you give me your answer?" - -She was still looking northward; to-morrow was Dick's eleventh day. "I -can't," she said slowly; "I have an engagement for to-morrow evening." - -"Not--not with him?" - -She nodded. - -"Break it, Annie, break it. Or no, wait--I won't say that. We 'll just -leave it. I'm willing to let it work itself out. I think, maybe, when -to-morrow comes, you won't want to see him any more than I want you -to. I won't tell you he's a rascal; I'd rather let you find it out for -yourself. I want you to know why I've spoken out this way, and how hard -I have tried to save you from doing something you would regret all your -life." - -She was bewildered. - -"Tell me this, Annie,--haven't you an aunt or anything here in town?" - -"Yes,"--her voice was hardly audible,--"Aunt Lizzie lives up by the -waterworks." - -"Do you go up there much?" - -"Sometimes." - -"Won't you go to-day, and stay over till to-morrow about this time?" - -"Why?" - -"It may save you annoyance. I think some disagreeable things are going -to happen here--I'd rather not have you at home. It's only on your own -account." - -"I don't see what can happen to me at home." - -"Nothing will happen to _you_, but don't ask me to tell you now. -To-morrow evening I 'll come up for you and bring you down, and then I 'll -tell everything. You see, I must have your answer to-morrow. I shall -probably have to go right away, and I couldn't go thinking I had left -this--the one thing of all that I care about--unsettled. I want you to -know that everything in the world I have to offer you is yours forever. -I want you to know this, and then, when you've thought it over and -realized what it means for both of us, I want you to come to me and give -me your hand and tell me that--that it's all right--that you give me -everything, too." A long silence. "Let's sail up toward the waterworks -now, Annie. I can drop you off there at the pier, and bring the Captain -down alone." - -She looked again toward the Merry Anne. - -He read her thoughts. "We needn't pass near her. We 'll run in close to -the shore." - -She shook her head. "I'm going to turn back." - -And back they turned. In vain he urged her, reproached her, pleaded with -her; hardly a word could he get during all the run back to the beach. He -pulled up the boat for her, and walked by her side to the steps. There, -with an odd pressure of the lips, she shook her head at him, as if -afraid to trust her voice, and mounted the steps. - -"Annie, you haven't told me. Will you go?" - -She shook her head again, and entered the house. Beveridge, motionless, -looked after her. Finally he turned, and glanced with a troubled air at -the approaching schooner, then at the sleepy pier, where he could see -Wilson stretched out flat holding out a bamboo fishpole over the water. -Behind the house Captain Fargo was mending his nets. Beveridge heard him -humming a song as he worked, and after hesitating a moment longer walked -around and greeted him. - -"How do you do, Captain." - -"How are you?" The fisherman straightened his spare old figure and -looked at the young man. His face was brown above the beard, and -crisscrossed with innumerable fine wrinkles. Beveridge knew, in meeting -those faded blue eyes with their patient, subdued expression, that he -was facing a man whom he could trust. - -"I have something to say to you, Captain, that may be a surprise,--I -want Annie." - -"You want her?" - -"Yes. You may think I've not known her very long, but it has been long -enough to show me that I can't go on any longer without her." - -Captain Fargo stood for a moment without replying, then asked simply, -"What does she say?" - -"It isn't settled; I have told her how I feel, and asked her for an -answer to-morrow night." - -"Isn't she a little young?" - -"I don't think so." - -"And you--you're a student?" - -"No, I'm not." - -"Do you think you could support her? I'm afraid we have taught her to -expect more than our position would seem to make right." - -"Yes, I can support her comfortably. You see, I--" - -"Hasn't Annie told me you were a student?" - -"Yes, I told her that, myself. There was a reason for it, Captain. The -situation is unusual, and my only chance of keeping her out of what is -to come lies in talking it out plainly with you." He swept the beach -with a swift glance, stepped close to the older man, and spoke rapidly -and eagerly in a subdued voice. - -The Captain removed his hat, and looked out over the water with a -distressed expression. "Are you sure you are right about this?" he -asked, when Beveridge had finished. - -"Perfectly." - -"You know, it is generally easy to prove a thing when your mind's set on -it." - -"There is no doubt whatever. My mind is set on nothing but carrying out -my orders. Do you think I would tell you this if I didn't have the whole -case right in my hands--cold? I tell you, I've got it. It's the end of -one of the worst cases in fifty years." - -"Well, I don't know. I hate to think it." - -"In my business we learn not to think anything. I always thought Maxwell -would live and die in the work. If there was a clean man and a good -friend to me anywhere on earth, it was Tommy Maxwell. But he had this -work before me, and they paid him I don't know how much to cover the -scent and skip to Mexico. After all his experience, Tommy couldn't walk -by that offer, and now he must end up in Mexico for it. If I told you -about the men and the methods that I have had to fight in this business, -you would find it hard to believe me. In some ways it has been even -a dangerous case." This was Beveridge's first opportunity to free his -mind, and his tongue was threatening to run loose. He was speaking with -a certain pride. "You know there is one of us shot, on the average, -every year, in this work." - -"I don't know," said Fargo again. "Maybe you are right about her going. -It wouldn't be pleasant for her. I 'll speak to her mother about it." - -"Of course, the sooner the better." - -"Yes. I 'll go in now." - -"One minute, Captain. You understand, don't you, my putting it before -you? It's just to spare Annie. There may be rough work." - -"Yes, I understand." - -"You 'll hardly find it necessary to tell Mrs. Fargo what I have told -you." - -"No, I suppose not. Though it would be perfectly safe with her." - -"If you don't mind, I'd rather not." - -"Very well." - -The Captain went into the house; and Beveridge walked away. The _Merry -Anne_ was at the moment coming slowly in toward the north side of the -pier. - -When he had nearly reached the pier, Beveridge turned and stood frowning -and snapping his fingers. A glance told him that Wilson had just hauled -out a fine perch and was baiting his hook for another. He turned toward -the house, and found that the Captain was approaching him. - -"Well," said Beveridge, "will she go?" - -"I haven't said anything yet. I thought I'd turn it over in my mind. -Aren't you pretty young for this work, Mr. Beveridge?" - -"Not so very. Do as you like about it. I have said all I can." - -"Oh, it's all right, of course; well, I 'll step in and see how Annie -feels about going." - -A second time they parted, and a second time Beveridge walked away. -He looked over his shoulder, and saw Annie running down the beach for -something she had left in the _Captain_. He hurried back and intercepted -her. - -"Annie." - -"Yes." - -"I don't know if you understand--you see, I have gone a good way in -telling you what I have--" - -"Oh, of course, if you want to take it back--" - -"But I don't. Not a word of it. I was only going to say--" he hesitated -again. She waited. "It isn't what I have asked you for myself; that -stands, Annie, and always will. It's the other. Don't you see how I have -put myself in your hands? I never did such a thing before in my life. -Just by letting you know that there's going to be something going on -here to-night, and by asking you to be away, I have put a lot of power -in your hands. You won't mind--you won't be offended--if I ask you not -to breathe a word of it to a soul?" - -He waited, hoping for some reassuring word or sign, but she only looked -at him with wide eyes. - -"You see a chance word might undo everything. If--" he glanced out -toward the two schooners--"if a hint of the facts gets out there to -him--don't you see? It simply can't happen. You know why I've told -you. It was because I love you, because I want to save you from it -all,--that's why I've put myself in your hands." - -But all she said was, "Don't say any more; I must go in." - -He was silent. But with one foot on the first step, she turned. "Wait, -tell me--" - -"Yes?" - -"Tell me--have you anything to do with that revenue cutter that was in -here the other day?" - -"Oh, dear Annie, you mustn't ask me that." Then she hurried into the -house. - -In the kitchen Captain Fargo was trying to tell his wife some -half-truths, never an easy thing for him to do. - -"But what is it? What's the trouble? I don't see that anything could -happen here that it would hurt her to see." - -"It wouldn't hurt her, but it really would be better to take her up to -Lizzie's. You and she could come back together to-morrow." - -"Oh, it's me too! Now what is all this about, anyway?" - -The Captain, instead of replying, spoke to himself: "I can't believe it. -There has been a mistake made. They never should have sent a boy of his -age to do such work." - -"What work? Is there something you have promised not to tell me?" - -"Yes, there is. Don't ask me what it is. Just talk it over with Annie, -and see if she won't go with you up to Lizzie's." - -Mrs. Fargo threw a glance at her husband, hesitated, then went up to -Annie's room. - -"Let me in, dear." Annie obeyed. "I want you to put on your things and -go out with me." - -"Not to Aunt Lizzie's?" - -"Yes. Your father thinks--" - -"Has _he_ been talking to father, then?" - -"Your father and I have been talking it over. He hasn't told me just why -he asks it--" - -"But I know." - -"Oh, do you?" There was a note of burning curiosity in these three -words. - -"Yes, I do. And I don't believe a word of it." - -"It's nothing very bad, I hope?" - -"Oh, I don't mean that I understand it all, but I know something about -it. Mr. Beveridge had no right to go to father." - -"Oh, it was Mr. Beveridge?" - -"Yes, it was. Tell me, mother, did he--do you know what else he said?" - -"No, I haven't asked him. But he wants us to go very much, and I don't -think we had better say anything." - -"He wants you to go, too?" - -"Yes." - -"Now, mother, you won't think I'm very bad if I--don't go?" - -"I'm afraid your father--" - -"Father doesn't understand it himself, I'm sure. It is all a mistake--" - -"Your father thinks that, too." - -"Oh, does he? Then he won't mind if I don't go!" - -"I don't know. I 'll tell him what you say." The mother slipped out, and -returned to the kitchen. "She doesn't want to go, father." - -"But I have asked her to. I can't explain to you, or her--" - -"She seems to know more than you do. She says it's a mistake." - -"It is; it must be. But I said--" - -"Now, father, don't you think we'd just better not say anything more? -Nobody is going to hurt us in our own home." - -"No, he said that himself." - -"Well, now, suppose we just let her have her way. I could see something -was troubling her, and I think she'd best be let alone." - -The Captain had done what he could, so now he returned to his nets and -left his wife to begin getting supper. - -Beveridge was standing at the shore end of the pier waiting for Wilson, -fish-pole on shoulder, to approach. "Well, what luck, Bert?" - -Wilson held up a small string of perch. "Fair. It's too late in the day -to catch many." - -"Going up to the house?" - -"Yes, I guess so." - -Then their voices dropped. - -"Where will you be, Bill?" - -"In the park here, by the road. You 'll be back early?" - -"Yes, soon as I can make the arrangements." - -"You have spoken to them at headquarters?" - -"Yes." - -"All right. So long." - -"So long." - -At seven o'clock, after supper, Captain Fargo was hailed by Henry -Smiley. - -"How are you, Henry? Glad to see you. You haven't been around much -lately." - -"No, too busy." - -"On your way up-town?" - -"No, just been. I ran out of tobacco and went up to get some. I -generally live on the schooner, you know. I have no other place to go -to. That's the devil of it, Cap'n, when you get to be my age without a -home or a near relation. There isn't a soul that cares anything about -me." - -"I guess you need some supper. Come in with us,'tain't all cold yet." - -"That wouldn't help any. I've had enough to eat." - -"What do you mean by talking about your age? You're young yet." - -"Do you call forty-five young?" - -"What do you think of me? I'm most sixty." - -"That's another story. When you go, you 'll leave something behind to -show that your life was worth living." - -"I wasn't much younger than you when I married." - -"None o' that for me," said Henry, with a sort of smile. "I never was -minded to it. If you have seen anything worth while about living, you're -lucky. I never could." - -"Look here, Henry, I don't like to hear you talking that way. What's the -matter with you?" - -Another questionable smile. "I 'll tell you how it looks to me. We have -to live with a pack of rascals, and heaven help the fools!" - -"Henry, you're enough to give a man the blues." - -"I've had enough to-day to give 'em to me. To tell the truth, Cap'n, I -don't know what to make of Dick. I'm afraid he is one of the fools." - -"There isn't anything serious the matter, is there?" This was said -nervously. - -"He's young, and independent. He has no idea of easing off his own -notions so as to keep things running smooth with other people. I've -done everything a man could to help him get on, but it's no use; he -antagonizes the only people who can help him. He's bristling all the -time. A couple of weeks ago he just naturally got sick of his mate and -fired him. I smoothed things over and got the Cap'n to suggest another. -And now he's fired this one, and won't have him on his schooner at -all,--and I've had to take him in for the night." - -"Wasn't there any reason?" - -"Reason--yes. I know he means to tell the whole story, but he has no -idea how hasty he is sometimes. McGlory's so ugly I could hardly trust -my own self with him. I thought the best thing would be to walk off for -a while, and maybe we'd both cool off." - -"Dick's all right, though, isn't he? No--no trouble, or anything?" - -"Why? Been hearing anything?" - -"I--I've thought he wasn't quite himself lately." - -"Why did you think that?" - -"Oh, I couldn't say, exactly." - -"Why, no, I don't think he's in any trouble." Henry smiled again. "I -suppose you know as much as I do what's bothering him." - -"No. What is it?" - -"Well now, see here, if it's that way, I oughtn't to say anything. But -you don't quite follow. Surely, you know. Just about the little girl." - -"My Annie?" - -"Yes. Of course we all know how Dick feels there." - -"Well, I've thought of it, of course." - -"That's another thing that's been bothering me. He's got no earthly -business to think of such a thing. I don't know what to make of him, -anyhow. I used to think I understood him, but Lord! he has new sides to -him every day--you might as well try to organize a volcano. It's kind of -discouraging. He's the nearest approach to something to care about I've -got, and if he would only let me, I'd like to sort o' push him along. -But I don't know--I don't know." - -"I'm afraid I misled you a little just now, Henry." - -"How's that?" - -"What I said about not having heard--I _have_ heard something." - -"About Dick?" - -"Yes. I can't tell you what. I know it isn't so, but it has bothered -me." - -"What sort of thing--about his character?" - -"In a way--yes." - -Henry looked sharply at the Captain with an expression of doubt and -uncertainty. Then he half turned away. - -"You aren't going, Henry?" - -"Yes, guess I'd better, and see what Mc-Glory's up to. I'd let him go -back to the city, but I want to see Cap'n Stenzenberger before he does. -Good night." - -Henry walked out on the pier to his schooner. - -The evening came slowly on and settled over the lake. The breeze, -instead of dropping with the sun, had freshened, and now was stirring -up little waves that lapped the two schooners and the piling under the -pier. Annie, sitting out on her balcony in an inconspicuous dress, her -arms on the railing, was listening and watching--and waiting. She had -heard Henry say good night to her father, and had seen him walk out on -the pier until he was lost among the lumber piles. She saw the afterglow -die in the north, the red-gold lake fade to amber, to gray-blue, almost -to black, while the twinkle of the lighthouse on the point grew into -a powerful beacon and sent an arrow of light deep into the water. She -watched the horizon line grow dimmer and dimmer until it disappeared, -and sky and lake blended in darkness. All was quiet on the pier. The -lights of the schooners swayed lazily; occasionally a voice floated in -over the water, a quiet, matter-of-fact voice. She looked up the beach, -down the beach; all was peaceful. - -But there was no quiet in Annie's heart. She was rigid; her hands were -clasped; her eyes shifted nervously from point to point. Once she got up -and went into her room and tried to read; but in a few moments she was -back. And there she sat until the late twilight had darkened into night. - -Then she rose, passed through the room, leaving the light burning, -stepped out into the hall, and softly, very softly, closed the door. She -stood motionless, still holding the knob. Her father and mother were -in the sitting room quietly talking. She went slowly down the stairs, -stepping cautiously over the one squeaky step, and slipped through the -hall. The sitting-room door was closed. - -"Annie?" - -"Yes, mother." - -"Is that you?" - -"Yes, I'm out here." - -"What is it?" - -"Nothing. I'm going out for a breath of air." - -"Where are you going?" - -"Oh, not far." - -"Come in soon, won't you?" - -"Yes, of course. I'm not going off anywhere." - -There was apparently no further need for quiet, yet she was half a -minute closing the front door after her. Again she looked up and down -the beach. She could see the street now on the low bluff; but no one -appeared within the light of the corner gas lamp. Then she hurried along -the beach, climbed up on the pier by some rough steps that she knew, -and walked rapidly out toward the schooner, stepping on the balls of her -feet, and avoiding loose planks. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--THE EVENING OF THE SAME DAY - - -[Illustration:0206] - -ONCE within the shadow of the lumber Annie paused. Not a sound came -from the two schooners. She knew that the _Merry Anne_ lay to leeward, -on the north side, and after a moment of listening and a glance behind -she turned toward it, making her way by feeling the lumber until she -found an opening. In another moment she stood at the edge of the pier, -looking down on the schooner. At first she thought Dick must be asleep, -for there was no light in the cabin; then she saw him sitting on the -cabin trunk, his hands clasped about his knees, his pipe between his -teeth, his eyes fixed on the dark water. The night was still, the -lapping of the ripples was the only sound. - -"Dick," she whispered. - -He turned with a start and removed his pipe. Though he looked directly -toward her, he evidently could not see her, for her black dress blended -with the shadows. - -"Dick," she said again. - -This time he ducked under the boom and came across to the rail. "Who's -there?" - -"It's me, Dick. I'm coming down." - -"No, wait." He stepped up beside her, and added, in a low, uncertain -voice, "You might wake Pink; he's sleeping below." And before she knew -it, his pipe lay on a plank and he had taken both her hands. "You came -out to see me, Annie?" - -"Yes, but wait, Dick; I don't know how to tell you--I couldn't help -coming--" He waited for her to go on, but she could not. She could not -even withdraw her hands, but stood motionless, her wits fluttering. -Finally he spoke:-- - -"You said you came to tell me--" - -"Not that, Dick--not what you think. It's something else." - -He released her hands. He even, in his bewilderment, took up his pipe -again. - -"I've found something out, Dick. I couldn't let it go by without telling -you. It's about--Mr. Beveridge." - -"Oh," said Dick. - -"Did you think he was a student?" - -"Yes, I thought so." - -"Well, he isn't at all." - -"Oh," said Dick again. And then, "Isn't he?" - -"No, he has something to do with--don't you understand what I'm getting -at, Dick?" He shook his head. - -"Are you going to make me tell you?" - -"You needn't tell me anything you don't want to, Annie." - -"O dear, I don't understand it myself, much of it; but I thought you -would if what he says is true." - -"It's something about me, then?" - -"Yes, Dick,--and the revenue cutter." - -"The revenue cutter?" - -"Yes, the _Foote_. He has something to do with her." - -"He's a revenue officer, then?" - -"Yes, or something. I don't know just what he is. But you understand it -now, don't you?" - -"Not a bit." - -"But you must, Dick. He says something is going to happen, right here." - -"On the pier?" - -"Yes." - -"When?" - -"Now--to-night. I was afraid it would be before I could get out here. -And I had to wait till dark, you know." - -"But how do you know all this, Annie?" - -"Mr. Beveridge--Mr. Beveridge told me more than he meant to, I guess. -And then he talked with father. And father and mother both tried to make -me go up to Aunt Lizzie's early this evening, so I wouldn't be here. It -was to save me from something, they said." - -"But I don't see, Annie--" - -"Why don't you go, Dick. I've come out here to tell you, so you can -sail away before he comes. Then you won't have any trouble. There's a -mistake, I know; and when they have found it out, you can come back." - -"Oh, I couldn't do that, Annie. I have no reason to go away. If anybody -wants to see me, he knows where he can find me." - -This silenced Annie. She looked at Dick, and then looked away from him, -out over the Lake, not knowing what to say or think. - -"You came out just to warn me, Annie?" - -She nodded. - -"There must be something more then--something you haven't told me." - -"No--only he--Mr. Beveridge said a good deal--he tried to make me -believe you were--dishonest, or something." - -"And you didn't believe it?" - -She made no reply to this. She was beginning to think about getting back -to the house. When Dick spoke again, it was in a gentler voice. - -"I'm glad you came out, Annie, mighty glad. And I know you 'll be glad to -find out that he is wrong." - -"Oh, I know that--" - -"But there must have been some things I don't understand at all. I don't -know but what it's a good thing he is here. If he can clear it up, it -will be better for all of us. So I 'll stay right here, and if he wants -me, he can have me. That's no reason why I should dodge any man living." - -"I knew it--I'm glad--" - -Then Dick's reserve broke down. He caught her hands again. "But you -can't tell me your coming out here doesn't mean anything, Annie. You've -told me already what I didn't dare to ask you." - -"No, Dick, let me go. I'm going back." - -"But after this--you can't put me off now, Annie. Don't you see? It's -no use trying to make me think you would have done this for anybody, -because you wouldn't. I know it, and you know it." - -"Now, Dick, please! I'm afraid--" - -"If you only knew how I've felt this trip,--what a regular hell it has -been,--you wouldn't keep me waiting any longer. I know to-morrow's the -time; and I wouldn't have said a word to-night if you hadn't come out -here. But you _are_ here, and you have let me know so much that it's -only a matter of saying a word. You can't blame me if I take your coming -that way." - -Annie was struggling, and Dick in his eagerness was holding her tightly. -But she got her hands free now and turned away. - -"Let me go back with you, Annie. I--I 'll try not to bother you. I didn't -mean to just now. Hang it, I never can trust myself when--" - -"No, you mustn't come." - -"Not even good night, Annie?" - -But she hurried off without a word into the shadows, and felt her way -nervously until she reached the central roadway, where it was lighter. -It was now getting on toward nine o'clock, and nothing had happened. -Perhaps nothing was going to happen, after all. What with her hope that -it all might be a mistake, and her fear that she had come on a fool's -errand, Annie was in a pretty state of mind. She did not know what to -make of Beveridge; she did not know what to make of herself; the natural -thing, apparently, was to get angry with Dick, and this she was rapidly -doing. - -When she was passing the last but one of the lumber piles, hurrying -along with less caution than she had used in coming out, a man appeared -out of the shadow and blocked the way. She stepped aside and tried to -run by, but he, as quick as she, stepped aside too and caught her wrist. -Then she saw that it was Beveridge. - -"Let me go!" she said breathlessly. - -"No, Annie, wait. You decided to warn him, did you?" - -"Let me go. You have no right to hold me." - -"Yes I have, more right than you know. Now tell me, why did you do it?" - -"Mr. Beveridge--" - -"You must wait, Annie. No one is going to hurt you. If you had known -what you were doing, you never would have come. It's no place for a -woman. But now that you have done this, now that you are here, I think -you had better stay and see with your own eyes what you have done. Then -perhaps you will believe me." - -Poor Annie could say nothing more. Her head whirled. She let him lead -her back along the roadway. - -Close to the spot where she had turned off to reach the schooner -Beveridge stopped. In a moment he was joined by another man. - -"Bert?" - -"Yes. What is it? Want me to take her home?" - -"No. Wait here, in case I call. And have an eye on the other boat." - -"You aren't going to take her back there?" - -"Never you mind what I'm going to do." - -"But look here, Bill! This is no place for--" - -"Do what you're told and keep still." - -Annie heard this muttered conversation without taking it in. Beveridge -still held her wrist, held it tighter than he knew, but she was hardly -conscious of this either. She was caught up and whirled along on the -high wind of events. She was conscious only of Beveridge, of a new side -to his character. The young man she had known on the beach and aboard -the _Captain_ had vanished. This Beveridge was hard, irresistible; his -manner, the atmosphere about him, spoke of some object that must be -reached without regard to obstacles. Her Beveridge had been friendly, -considerate; there was nothing considerate about this man. And yet, a -part of his object was to convince her that he was right and that Dick -was wrong; and she knew why. - -Dick had gone back to his seat on the cabin trunk. Beveridge, gripping -Annie's wrist, stood at the pier edge, and looked down. - -"Smiley," he said. - -Dick crossed the deck. "I'm Smiley. What is it?" - -"I shall have to ask you to come away with me." - -"Who are you?" - -"Beveridge, special agent of the United States Treasury Department." - -"Well, what do you want me for?" Dick was peering forward, trying to -make out the figure in the background. - -"I guess it isn't necessary to tell you that; I 'll give you a minute to -get what things you need." - -"Who have you got there?" - -"It's me, Dick." - -"Annie!" Dick leaped up to the pier. "Have you dragged her out here to -see--" - -"Get back there on your schooner, Smiley. It won't be necessary to do -any talking. Anything you say is likely to be used against you. Get back -there." - -Dick looked at him a moment, then jumped down. Beveridge followed, -helping Annie, none too gently. - -"Where's your man Harper?" - -"Pink," called Dick. "Pink, come up here." - -In a moment the sleepy mate appeared. - -"Harper," said Beveridge, "get an axe. Be quick about it." - -Pink looked at Dick, who said, "Go ahead. Do whatever he tells you." - -The axe was brought and handed to Beveridge. - -"Now, Smiley, you and your man go below, please." - -"Below?" - -"To the hold. I 'll follow." - -"Pink," said Dick, "get a lantern." - -They had to wait a minute, while Pink was lighting the lantern. There -they stood, without speaking, each watching the other. Finally Pink -led the way to the open hatch, and descended the ladder. Dick followed. -Beveridge led Annie to the opening. "Wait," he said; "I 'll go first, and -help you down." - -Dick, standing below on the timbers, looked up like a flash. "I wouldn't -try to bring her down here if I were you." - -"I'm not talking to you, Smiley." - -"No, but you will be if you bully her much longer. Just try to make her -go down that ladder. Try it!" - -Beveridge, without heeding, turned to Annie. - -When he turned back, Dick, with itching fingers, stood on the deck -beside him. - -"What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go below?" - -"Annie," said Dick, "just say the word--just look at me--if you -want--look here, Mister Beveridge, I don't know much about law, but it -seems to me you haven't shown me any papers, and, until you do, you can -have your choice of letting go of her hand or losing your front teeth. -Just whichever you like." - - -But Beveridge did neither. "No, Smiley," said he, "we won't get into -that sort o' talk." After which remark, he stooped over and looked down -at Pink and his lantern, and at the timbers on which Pink was standing. -"I guess maybe you can see without going down, Annie. Sit down here, and -watch what I do. Go ahead, Smiley." - -[Illustration: 0219] - -Dick again descended the ladder, and the special agent followed, axe in -hand. Annie, with horrified eyes, sat limp against the hatch and took in -every motion in that dimly lighted group below. She saw Dick and Harper -stand aside; she saw Beveridge raise the axe a little way and bring it -down sharply on the end of a stick of timber,--an end that was marked -with a circular groove; she saw the timber split open, and a plug fall -out; she saw Beveridge stoop and dip his fingers in a brown liquid that -was flowing from some sort of a broken receptacle; she smelled whiskey. -She was confused, she had only a half understanding of what it meant, -but she shivered as if a cold wind were blowing upon her; and when they -had all three mounted to the deck and were standing about her, she was -still sitting there, holding to something, she knew not what, and gazing -with fascinated eyes into the square black hole,--blacker than at first, -now that Harper was holding the lantern before her on the deck. But she -knew when Beveridge stepped forward to help her up, only to be brushed -aside by Dick, who raised her gently, with a low exclamation of pity, -and helped her across the deck. - -The three men gathered about her at the rail. - -"Before we go any farther," said the agent, in a conversational tone, -"will you men walk into Cap'n Fargo's house with me and sit down while -we talk this over a little? If you say you will, I'm willing to take -your word. But if not, I have men on the pier and on the bank that might -help you to make up your minds." - -"That's not necessary. We 'll go with you. Just a step up, Annie. Put -your hand on my shoulder." - -"All right, Mister Smiley. Come, Harper." In passing his assistant, -Beveridge paused to whisper: "I 'll be at the house. See that McGlory -doesn't try to get ashore. If he gives you any trouble, whistle." - -A few moments more, and they were seated around Mrs. Fargo's dining -table, Beveridge, Dick, Pink Harper, and the old fisherman. Annie was -shut in her room, refusing admittance even to her mother. - -"There's one question that comes up right here, Mr. Smiley," began -Beveridge, "before we go any farther. Is this man Harper one of your -accomplices?" - -"What do you mean by that?" - -"Don't take my time by evasions. You have given me trouble enough -now. If you will tell me he has had little or nothing to do with this -business, and if he can give a good account of himself, I 'll let him go. -What do you say?" - -"Will you tell me what you mean?" - -"That's enough. I won't waste any more time on it. We 'll hold him. -Cap'n," turning to Fargo, "there's one thing--I guess you can understand -my position--I shall have to call on Annie for a witness, a little -later." - -Here Dick broke out. "So that's why you dragged her into this, is it?" - -"Be careful what you say, Mr. Smiley." Dick looked hard at him, then -glanced around the group, then settled back in his chair. After a short -silence, Captain Fargo spoke. - -"This isn't all settled, is it, Mr. Beveridge? Dick hasn't told you that -what you thought was so?" - -"It was hardly necessary. I found the proofs right there on his -schooner." - -"Is that right, Dick?" - -"It seems to be." - -"You don't mean to say right out that you're a smuggler, Dick?" - -"No, I'm not." - -Captain Fargo was puzzled. He looked from one to the other of the two -men, until Beveridge, with an air of settling the matter, rose. "You'd -better not throw away any sympathy there, Cap'n. You can be thankful -to find out in time that he's a bad one. I'm only sorry to have to draw -your family into it. I tried hard enough not to." - -"Yes, I know that." - -There was a shout outside, a noise on the steps, and a hammering on the -door. Then before the fisherman could get out of his chair, the outer -door burst open, and down the hall and into the dining room came Wilson, -breathless, his hat still on his head. - -"Well, Bert--" - -"He's skipped!" - -"McGlory? What were you thinking of? Where'd he go?" Beveridge was on -his feet. - -"No use, Bill; sit down. It 'll take a steamer to catch him." - -"You didn't stand there and let him sail off." - -"Wait 'll I tell you. I was back a little way, where the pier narrows, -so's he couldn't slip by through the lumber. The schooner he was on, -the--the--" - -"_Schmidt_," put in Pink. - -"The _Schmidt_ was on the south side, the--the--" - -"_Merry Anne_" said Pink, "--was on the north. There's a south wind, you -see. And the first thing I knew I heard the tackle creaking off to the -left. Thinks I, that's from the _Merry Anne_, only there ain't a soul -aboard her. I ran out and looked, and sure enough, there she was, with -two or three men hauling away on the sails." - -"And you didn't stop 'em?" - -"How could I, Bill? You see, they'd cut the ropes and let her drift off -down the wind. She was a hundred feet out before they made a move." - -"But what were they doing on the _Merry Anne?_" - -"Don't you see?" said Pink; "she can beat the old _Schmidt_ hands down." - -"They'd sneaked across out by the end," added Wilson, "while I was -nearer shore." Beveridge sat down again, and tapped the table nervously -as his eyes shifted from one to another of the faces before him. "How're -they sailing, Bert?" - -"Right off north." - -"Before the wind?" - -"Yes, sure," said Pink; "how could they help it with a south wind?" - -"Smiley,"--Beveridge had turned on Dick, and was speaking in a keen, -hard voice,--"where are they going?" - -"I couldn't tell you." - -"Think a little. Your memory's poor, maybe." - -But Dick was stubborn. Pink, however, was struck by a flash of -intelligence. "I 'll bet I know." - -"Where, Harper?" - -"Why, to Spencer's, where we just come from." - -"Where's that?" - -"Around in Lake Huron. If I had a chart here--Cap'n, ain't you got a -chart o' Lake Huron?" - -Except for Pink's eager voice, the room was still. The four other men -sat like statues, leaning forward. As he waited for the reply, the boy -became suddenly conscious of the odd expression of their faces. He had -meant to help both Dick and himself--was he helping? - -The thought that had already found a place in Dick's mind, the thought -that they were in the hands of a merciless agent, whose whole object was -to prove them guilty, whose own advantage, whose future perhaps, lay in -proving them guilty--and that the course to be followed was not a matter -for offhand decision, came now to him, and he faltered. - -Captain Fargo shook his head. "No," said he, huskily, "not even of Lake -Michigan." - -"Go on, Harper. Perhaps you can tell us. Your memory's better than -Smiley's." - -When Beveridge spoke that last sentence, he made a mistake. Pink glanced -at Dick, and dropped his eyes. When he raised them, his lips were closed -tight, as if he were afraid to open them at all. - -"Well, go on." - -Pink shook his head. - -"Don't be a fool, Harper. If you can help me get McGlory, it may make it -easier for you." - -"But him--" Pink motioned toward Dick--"would it make it easier for -him?" - -Beveridge shook his head. "I don't believe the Lord a'mighty could save -him." - -"Then," said Pink, with a flash of anger, "you can go to hell for all o' -me!" - -Beveridge sat thinking. He looked at Dick from under his eyebrows, -studying the man with shrewd eyes. With the same scrutiny, he looked at -Pink. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket and consulted a list -that had been jotted on the back; and followed this with a Milwaukee -time-table, which he studied with eye and finger. "It's now--" he looked -at his watch--"nine-twelve. We 'll make the nine-forty. Come along with -me, Smiley." Captain Fargo asked the question that Dick would not ask. -"What are you going to do with the boys, Mr. Beveridge?" - -"We're going to Milwaukee now, on the nine-forty." - -"To Milwaukee!" - -"Yes. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you." Dick and Pink took their -hats and rose. Wilson stepped back to fall in at Pink's shoulder, -leaving Smiley to his superior. Suddenly Captain Fargo, after a moment -of puzzled silence, broke out with, "Wait--has anybody seen or heard of -Henry?" - -All looked blank. - -"Where was he seen last?" asked the Special Agent. - -"He was here on the beach after supper. We had a little chat together. -He'd been uptown after some tobacco, and said he was going right out to -the _Schmidt_, and would be spending the night there." - -"He hasn't been around since?" - -"No--not here." - -"You haven't seen him?" This was addressed to Pink. Beveridge wheeled -suddenly on him in asking it, and raised his voice with the idea of -bullying him into a reply. But Pink shook his head. - -"They wouldn't likely have lugged him across the pier with them. He may -be on the _Schmidt_ yet. How about it, Bert?" - -"I don't think so. I looked around the cabin. Shall I look again?" - -"Yes. We 'll wait here. You 'll have to hurry with it. We can't stay here -more than ten minutes longer." - -Wilson was out of the room at a bound, down the steps and across the -beach and running out on the long pier. In five minutes he was back. - -"Well--" - -"Not a soul there." - -"How many men did he have aboard? Do you know, Cap'n?" - -"Only one or two, I guess, besides Mc-Glory." - -"They've gone along, of course. The only question is, did they take him -with 'em?" - -"How could they?" said Wilson. "He is a strong man, and there wasn't any -sound of a scuffle. No, if there had been anything like that, I should -have heard it." - -"I 'll tell you what I think," said Fargo. "It isn't what I think, -either; but it keeps coming up in my mind. He didn't seem quite himself -when he was talking to me." - -"How--nervous?" - -"Oh, no, but kind of depressed. He never says a lot, but then he isn't -generally blue like he certainly was to-night. He talked about McGlory, -too." - -"What did he say about him?" asked Beveridge sharply. - -"He said that McGlory and Dick had disagreed, and Dick had ordered him -off his schooner, and he had taken him in for the night. McGlory, he -said, was so ugly there was no getting on with him. He had sort of made -an errand up-town so he could get away and cool down a little. I guess -he felt so glum himself he was afraid to trust himself with a man that -acted like McGlory was acting." Beveridge was standing by the door, -ready to start, watching the Captain closely during this speech. Now -a look of intelligence came to his face. "How are Henry Smiley's -affairs--money and that sort of thing?" he asked. - -"Oh, all right, I think. He has always been saving. He must have a neat -little pile tucked away by this time." - -"And he wasn't married, or--" Beveridge paused. - -"Not Henry. No, he was a woman-hater, pretty nearly." - -"Was he pessimistic--kind of down on things? Did he have any particular -object in living--anything to work for specially?" - -"He was pessimistic, all right. Didn't believe in much of anything. I--I -know what you're thinking, Mr. Beveridge, but I--I can't hardly think -it's possible. I don't know, though, I guess his schooner was about the -only thing he cared for, except maybe Dick here." - -"Oh, fond of his cousin, was he?" - -"Yes, I think you could say he was that." - -"Had you dropped him any hint of what I told you?" - -"Well, now you speak of it, I don't know but what maybe I did let him -see that I was a little worried about Dick." - -Beveridge nodded. "I can't wait any longer. Come, Bert. You, I suppose," -turning to Dick and Pink, "will come along without any trouble?" - -"Certainly," said Dick. - -"Good-by, Captain--and say, by the way, Captain, if I were you, I would -send right up to the life-saving station and have them set a few men to -dragging out there." - -"Do you really believe that--" - -Beveridge nodded. "If he is found anywhere, it will be within fifty feet -of the pier. Good-by. Come, Bert." - -They hurried over to the railway station, Beveridge walking with -Dick, Wilson with Harper. In the minute or two that they had to wait, -Beveridge scrawled the following message, and had it put promptly on the -wire:-- - -"To Captain B. Sullivan, on board U.S. Revenue Cutter _Foote_, -Milwaukee. - -"Am coming Milwaukee with two of our men. Third has stolen schooner and -headed Lake Huron. Will be aboard for chase about midnight. Kindly have -all ready. - -"Wm. Beveridge. - -"_To Operator_:--If not there, try Sheboygan, Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay, -and Marinette,--in order named. Beveridge. - -"RUSH!" - - - - -CHAPTER IX--THE CHASE BEGINS--THURSDAY MORNING - - -[Illustration: 0236] - -THE four men were in the smoking-car, spinning along toward Milwaukee. -Beveridge handed Dick a cigar. Then, after a little:-- - -"Say, Smiley, I'm doing a rather odd thing with you." - -"Are you?" - -"Yes--in taking you off here instead of having you locked right up in -Chicago." - -Dick waited. - -"You see, I have thought this business over pretty carefully; I have -thought _you_ over pretty carefully--and I like you. Now I have been -some time on this case, and I understand it, I think. I understand you, -and McGlory, and Stenzenberger, and the lot of you. But there is one -place where I'm still weak,--that is Spencer and his places up there in -Lake Huron. That is the only thing we haven't run down. I could get -it of course in time, but it _would_ take time, and that's just what I -don't want to take now. I'm depending on you to set me right. Of course -it's your privilege, if you want, to shut your mouth up tight. But I -don't take you for that sort of a chap. I have a way of my own of going -at these things. There are some of our men would bully you, but that -isn't my way--not with you. I 'll tell you right here, that any help you -can give me will be a mighty good thing for you in the long run." - -"What do you expect me to tell you?" - -"You will know at the proper time. All I want to find out now is whether -you are going to stand by me and help me through with it or not." - -"Why, I will do what I can." - -"What does that mean exactly?" - -"I will tell you all I know." - -"All right, sir. Now we understand each other. And I 'll do what I can to -make it easy for you." - -"There's one thing--" - -"What is it?" - -"What are you going to do with us in Milwaukee?" - -"If we have to stop over night, why, we 'll go to a hotel." - -"Not the jail, eh?" - -"No,"--Beveridge gave his prisoner a keen glance, then shook his -head,--"no, that won't be necessary." - -The _Foote_ was not at Milwaukee; apparently she was not at Sheboygan, -Manitowoc, Sturgeon Bay, or Marinette. Throughout the night, while -Dick and Harper were shut up with Wilson on the top floor of the hotel, -Beveridge haunted the telegraph office downstairs. Simultaneous messages -went out to Cedar River, Green Bay, Two Rivers, Kewaunee,--to every -little town along the west shore, even back to Kenosha, Racine, and -Waukegan. Then Beveridge thought of the east shore, and tried all the -ports from Harbor Springs down to St. Joseph, but with no success. He -dropped on the lounge in the hotel office for a cat nap now and then. -And finally, at half-past five in the morning, he was called to the -telephone and informed that the _Foote_ had just been sighted heading in -toward the breakwater. - -Promptly he aroused his prisoners, who obligingly tumbled into their -clothes; and the party drove down to the river and boarded a tug. A -little time was to be saved by meeting the revenue cutter before she -could get in between the piers. So out they went, past silent wharves -and sleepy bridge keepers, out into the gold of the sunrise. - -There was the _Foote_ nearly in, her old-fashioned engine coughing hard, -her side wheels beating the water to a foam, making her very best speed -of nine miles an hour. She caught the signal from the tug, stopped, -backed, and let down her companion ladder. Captain Sullivan, a grizzled -veteran, bearing evidences of hasty dressing, was at the rail to meet -them. - -"Well," said Beveridge, "I'm mighty glad to see you, Captain. I didn't -know whether you were on earth or not." - -"I got your message at Sturgeon Bay, and came right down." - -"Did you answer?" - -"Of course," somewhat testily. "You gave me no Milwaukee address. I sent -it to Lakeville." - -"That so? They should have forwarded it. They must have gone to sleep -down there." - -"I know nothing about that. All clear down there? All right, Mr. -Ericsen!" - -The tug backed away, the paddle-wheels revolved again, and the old -steamer swung around in a wide circle. - -"You haven't told me where you want to go, Mr. Beveridge." Captain -Sullivan was taking in Smiley and Harper with an eye that knew no -compromise. - -"We 'll do that now, Cap'n. Mr. Smiley here is going to help us out a -little if you will show us your chart of Lake Huron." - -"_He_ is!" was the Captain's reply. Then he turned abruptly and led the -way up to the chart room. - -The chart was spread out, and the three men bent over it. - -"Now, Mr. Smiley," said Beveridge, "can you put your finger on Spencer's -place?" - -Dick did so. - -"There's a harbor there, you say?" - -"What's that nonsense," broke in Captain Sullivan, "a harbor behind -False Middle Island?" - -"Yes," Dick replied, "a good one." - -"You'd better tell that to the Hydrographic Office." - -"I don't need to tell it to anybody. I've been in there with my -schooner." - -"When was that, young man?" - -"This month." - -The Captain turned away with a shrug, and joined his lieutenant on the -bridge. "We 'll make for False Middle Island, Mr. Ericsen, just beyond -Seventy Mile Point." - -"Very well, sir." - -Deliberately, very deliberately, the Foote coughed and rumbled -northward, and Milwaukee fell away astern. She could not hope to catch -the Merry Anne if the southerly breeze should hold. The schooner was -running light, and even though she might have made but eighty or ninety -miles during the night, she was by this time more than abreast of -Milwaukee, and on the east side of the Lake, where she had the advantage -in the run for the Straits of Mackinac. - -"Do you think," asked Beveridge, when the Captain had gone to the -bridge, "that we can overhaul her in the Straits?" - -Dick shook his head. "Hardly. She has had a pretty steady breeze all -night." - -"But it isn't very strong." - -"It doesn't need to be. There is nothing she likes better than running -before just such a breeze. And when the sun is well up, it will blow -harder." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes." - -"This here is sort of an old tub, too." - -Dick sniffed. "You have to watch the bubbles to see which way she's -going." - -Beveridge studied the chart. "See here," he said, "where's the Canadian -hangout?" Dick laid his finger on the indentation that represented Burnt -Cove. - -"Beyond the--what's this--Duck Island?" - -"Just beyond the Duck Islands." - -"Which place do you think he will make for?" - -"Well--I can only tell you what I think." - -"Go ahead." - -"What McGlory will do will be to head for Spencer and take off the old -man." - -"And then run over to Burnt Cove?" - -"That's what I think. Burnt Cove is in Canada, you see." - -"Yes, I see it is. The boundary line runs down west and south of -Manitoulin Island." - -"If you want to stop him very bad, you'd better have Captain Sullivan -go over to the boundary, close to Outer Duck Island, and then head for -Spencer. In that way we shall be approaching Spencer along the line that -McGlory must take if he tries to make the cove; and if it is not night, -we ought to stand a good chance of sighting him. I figure that we ought -to get up there just about in time." - -"Of course, he doesn't know that we're so hot on his trail," mused -Beveridge. - -Dick sniffed again. "If you call this hot." - -The Captain returned from the bridge, and Beveridge repeated Dick's -suggestion. - -"How are we to know this schooner?" - -"She's sky-blue with a white line." - -"Is she fast?" - -"She don't need paddle-wheels to beat this." This remark did not please -Captain Sullivan. He turned away. - -"I don't know how you feel, Smiley," said - -Beveridge, "but I didn't get much sleep last night. Did you?" - -"Precious little." - -Within a few moments, while the colors of the dawn were fading, while -the _Foote_ was pounding heavily along northwest by north, the special -agents and their two prisoners were sleeping like children. - -At two o'clock Thursday morning the Foote lay, with motionless engines -and lights extinguished, to the southward of Jennie Graham Shoal, near -Outer Duck Island. Smiley and Harper, with Wilson close at hand, stood -leaning on the rail, watching a launch that the crew were lowering to -the water. - -"Well," said Dick, in a low voice, "it looks as if we might get them." - -"Shouldn't wonder," Wilson replied. He, too, was subdued by the strain. - -"Pretty dark, though." - -"That isn't all on their side." - -"No, perhaps it isn't. Going to put out both launches, eh?" - -"It looks that way." - -Cautiously and swiftly the sailors worked. One launch, and then the -other, was lowered into the water. - -"Pretty neat, ain't it?" whispered Pink. "Why, with this wind they've -got to run in right by one or other of the boats to get to Burnt Cove. -Would they let us sail the _Anne_ around, think, if they get her back?" - -Dick shook his head. - -Farther aft Beveridge was talking to Captain Sullivan. "It's the only -thing to do, Captain. With him along, we can't miss her." - -"I've nothing more to say. I don't like it; but he's your man." - -"One thing more, Captain. It won't hardly be necessary to send an -officer with me." - -"But--" - -"You see Wilson and myself, and about four husky sailors, a couple of - 'em to run the launch, will be enough, Why not just leave it that way? -You might tell your men they're to take my orders." - -His meaning was obvious to the Captain; but he hesitated. This man -Beveridge was young and bumptious. Irregular things had sometimes to be -done, but it were best that they should be done by a seasoned officer. -Still, it was Beveridge's case. They walked together toward the -prisoners. - -"Smiley," said Beveridge, "I'm going to take you along. I guess there -isn't much doubt you could tell your schooner in the dark?" - -"Tell her in the dark!" exclaimed Pink. "Why, he knows the squeak of -every block!" - -So Dick went. The Captain added a fifth sailor for safety, and took time -to give him a few quiet instructions before he joined the launch. Then -they pushed off and slipped away into the night. For four hours after -that, the only sound heard aboard the _Foote_, where Pink, sleepless, -hung over the rail, guarded by a deep-chested sailor, was the occasional -puff-puff of one of the launches as it changed its post. A dozen pairs -of eyes were searching the dark, looking for any craft that might be -coming from Michigan. - -As Captain Sullivan suspected, Beveridge's launch was over the Canadian -boundary half an hour after she lost sight of the ship. Then Beveridge -drew Dick back near the boiler. "Tell me this, Smiley. Do you think -those fellows could possibly have got through before now?" - -"I haven't much doubt of it." - -"What makes you think so?" - -"Because of the wind. It has never let down a minute since they started. -If they lost no time at Spencer's, they could have done it easily." - -"That's what I thought. Will you take the wheel and pilot us into Burnt -Cove?" - -"Sure, if you want me to." - -Dick took the wheel. The fifth sailor spoke up. "You can't do that, -sir." - -"Can't do what?" said Beveridge. - -"Take the wheel, sir. Powers is to keep the wheel. That's the orders." - -"There's nobody but me giving orders here." - -"Sorry, sir; but Powers has got to keep the wheel." - -"We won't have any talk about this, young man. I'm a special agent of -the United States Treasury Department, and I'm running this business. -Powers can sit down." - -The sailor's orders evidently did not warrant him to resist further. - -Dick looked about for his bearings. Dimly he could make out the islands -to the left. "What does she draw?" he asked. - -"Two feet." - -With only two feet of draft he could take chances. He was directly on -the course that the Merry Anne had taken in leaving the cove, and he -felt as certain, with the compass before him, as if he had made the trip -by night a hundred times. There was very little sea, and the launch made -good progress. "You might tell the engineer to crowd her all he can," he -said to Beveridge. "It's quite a run." - -Once Dick glanced back; and he winced. There sat Wilson, on his left -hand and not a yard away, with a rifle across his knees. At this moment -Beveridge returned from a whispered consultation with the engineer, and -scowled at his assistant. "That isn't necessary, Bert," said he. "Put it -up." - -The overzealous young man laid the rifle on the seat behind him; and -Beveridge, after a moment of hard thinking, his eyes fixed on Dick's -muscular back, came up beside the wheel and leaned on the coamings. -Dick's gaze left the compass only for the darkness ahead, where the -outline of something that he knew to be a coast line was, to his trained -eye, taking shape. - -"Say, Smiley,"--the special agent's voice was lowered; his tone was -friendly,--"don't let that bother you. Nobody is holding a gun on you -here. That isn't my way--with you." - -Dick's eyes were fixed painfully on the compass. - -"I just want you to know that it was a mistake. These guns aren't for -you." - -Beveridge, having said enough, was now silent. Apparently too boyish for -his work, often careless in his talk, he was handling Smiley right, -and so well did he know it that he was willing to lounge there at his -prisoner's elbow and watch the course in silence. If Beveridge was -ambitious, greedy for success and promotion, frequently unscrupulous -as to the means to be employed,--as now, when he was deliberately going -into English territory, an almost unheard-of and certainly unlawful -performance,--hard, even merciless, so long as he regarded only his -"case"; he was also impulsive and sometimes warm hearted when appealed -to on the personal side. He had, before now, gone intuitively to the -heart of problems that stronger minds than his, relying on reasoning -alone, had been unable to solve. - -Much as a bank teller detects instantly a counterfeit bill or coin, -he picked his man. He was quick to feel the difference between -a right-minded man who has fallen into wrong ways and the really -wrong-minded man. His course tonight was a triumph. He had given his -prisoner the means to lead his little party to destruction, but he knew -perfectly that nothing of the sort would be done. More, the only man -aboard who could prove in court that he had gone over that vague thing, -the boundary line, was this same prisoner, who should, by all sensible -thinking, be the last man to trust with such information; and yet he -felt perfectly comfortable as he leaned out a little way and watched the -foam slipping away from the bow. - -The launch went on toward the increasing shadows, plunged through the -surf, and glided into the cove. - -"See anything?" whispered Beveridge. - -"Not a thing," Smiley replied. - -"She isn't here, eh?" - -"No, neither of them." - -"Neither of what?" - -"Neither the _Anne_ nor the _Estelle_, Spencer's schooner. Shall we go -back outside?" - -"Yes." - -"You speak to the engineer, then. This bell makes too much noise." - -They backed cautiously around and returned through the surf to deep -water. - -"Lie up a little way off the shore here," said Beveridge; "we 'll cut -them off if they try to get in." - -For a moment nothing was said; then this from Smiley, "Do you mind my -saying a word?" - -"No. What?" - -"It has just struck me--we are wasting time here." - -"You think so?" - -"I know so." - -"Why?" - -"It stands to reason that McGlory would expect to be chased, don't it?" - -"Of course." - -"Well, then, he is not going to put right over here after he has -taken off old Spencer, is he? It's almost like running back on his -course--amounts to the same thing." - -"But he is likely to come here, isn't he?" - -"I should think so." - -"Well," impatiently, "how else could he do it?" - -"Easily enough. He could go right on east from Spencer's place and make -for Owen Channel, up near the head of Georgian Bay. That's at the other -end of this island." - -"Manitoulin Island? Is it as big as that?" - -"Yes, it lies all across this end of Lake Huron. If he went through Owen -Channel, he could get around into the North Channel, and then down into -Bayfield Sound and Lake Wolsey. Bayfield Sound, you see, pretty nearly -cuts the island in halves. It is right opposite here, only a few miles -overland. That would be a long way around, but it is the safe way. You -see, I've been thinking--" - -"Well--what?" - -"Why, he would be likely to think just like I did, that when you had got -up here you wouldn't be able to resist coming on across the line." - -"You seem to know these routes pretty well for a man who has been to -Spencer's only once." - -"I saw it on the chart the other day. A man couldn't help figuring that -out." - -"What would you suggest doing?" - -"Putting for Spencer's, just as tight as your old stationary wash-tub -can make it." - -"But hold on, now. If you think they have got away from there long -ago--" - -"I _think_ that, but I'm not sure. Supposing they have--then you've lost -them anyhow. Don't you see? But suppose there was a delay in getting -away there,--it's more than likely McGlory and Spencer wouldn't agree. -McGlory isn't the agreeing kind, and I don't think Spencer is either. It -will be daylight before so very long, and with this wind they can't get -here, if they're coming here at all, without our sighting them on the -way over. And there is just a fighting chance of catching them there -before they make for Georgian Bay, or some other place we don't know -of." Beveridge thought a moment. "There is something in that. We 'll do -it." - -At mid-morning the _Foote_ stopped her engines abreast of False Middle -Island, and Captain Sullivan sent for Beveridge. - -"You tell me there is a harbor in there?" - -"That's what I understand. But it won't be necessary to take the steamer -in." - -The Captain's expression showed that he had not the slightest notion of -taking her in. - -"I think," Beveridge went on, "that you had better put me ashore with -a few men in there north of the island. I 'll go around behind the -sand-dunes and come on the place from the woods. Then if they should be -there, and if they should try to run out, you can stop them. I 'll have -Smiley guide me." - -"You're going to take him ashore with you? - -"That's what I'm going to do." - -"I don't believe in this!" - -Beveridge said nothing. - -"Oh, very well. I 'll have a boat ready." Smiley was called, and -Beveridge drew him aside and outlined his plan. Shortly Wilson joined -them, and a half-dozen sailors were picked from the crew. Then, all but -Smiley armed with rifles and revolvers, they descended to the small boat -and were brought rapidly to the shore. - -"Which way?" asked Beveridge, sticking close at Smiley's elbow. - -"I 'll show you; come along." He led the way back among the pines -and made a circuit, bringing up squarely on the landward side of the -settlement. - -"Where is it now, Smiley?" - -"Right there." - -Beveridge peered out through the trees, then beckoned his men together. -"Come in close, boys, and pick your trees. Keep out of sight--and quiet. -Take my rifle, one of you." - -"Shall we go in?" asked Wilson. - -"You stay here, Bert." - -"Hadn't you better take your rifle?" - -"No, I don't want it. Quiet now." - -The men spread out, taking places where they could command the -outbuildings. - -"Smiley?" - -"Yes." - -"Which is Spencer's house--where he lives himself?" - -"The biggest one. You can see the roof over that shed there." - -"All right. Much obliged." - -Beveridge walked rapidly out into the clearing and disappeared around -the shed. They heard him mount Spencer's front steps and knock. - -"He's plucky enough," muttered Dick. - -"Oh, don't you worry about Bill Beveridge," said Wilson. "Why, I've seen -him--" - -But Beveridge was calling for them to join him. - -"Nobody here?" asked Wilson. - -"Not a soul. I took a look around the house. They left in a hurry. See -there." - -He nodded toward the harbor. There lay the Merry Anne at the wharf. The -smaller schooner was not to be seen. - -"Too late, eh?" said Wilson. - -"Too late." - -"Suppose they've gone overland?" - -"Not a bit of it. They left Smiley's schooner here and went off in -Spencer's." - -"Oh, he had one too?" - -"Certainly he did." - -Dick had made headlong for the schooner. Now they saw him standing on -the after deckhouse, reading a paper which he had found nailed to the -mast. - -"What have you there?" called Beveridge. - -"Come and see." - -The special agent joined him and took the paper. "It's hard enough to -read. Whoever wrote this was in a big hurry. What's this? 'Left again. -You'd better foot it home. Whiskey Jim.' Whiskey Jim, eh? He's stealing -your thunder, Smiley." - -"Will you let me see it again?" said Dick. He sat down on the edge of -the deck-house and read it over, gazing at it with fascinated eyes. The -other men watched him curiously. - - - - -CHAPTER X--THURSDAY NIGHT--THE GINGHAM DRESS - - -[Illustration: 0260] - -WELL," said Wilson, "what do you think?" - -"We 'll do our thinking later. Take these men and search the place. -Smiley and I will wait here." - -"You don't expect them to find anything, do you?" asked Dick, when the -others had gone. - -"Can't say. We've lost the men, but we may get some evidence." - -"Where do you think they are?" - -"Where could they be but in Canada?" - -Dick was silent. - -"Say, Smiley, I like the way you're acting in this business. If anything -on earth will make it any brighter for you, it is what you are doing -now. You might even go a step farther if you should feel like it any -time. It's plain that McGlory and Spencer are pretty deep in, and if you -would come out and tell all you know, it might help you a lot." - -"I have told all I know." - -"Oh, of course,--that's just as you like." - -They were silent again for a few moments. Then Dick spoke up. "You feel -pretty sure about their being in Canada, don't you?" - -"Have you thought of anything else?" - -"Yes. Where is the other revenue cutter now?" - -"The _Porter?_ At Buffalo, I think,--or Cleveland, or Detroit." - -"And she's about twice as fast as the _Foote_, isn't she?" - -"Just about." - -"Well, now, supposing they weren't sure but what she would be sent up -here too? It was as likely as not." - -"It should have been done." - -"Then wouldn't they have been fools to have put right out again to cross -the Lake--with one steamer coming down on 'em through the Straits and -another coming up from Detroit?" - -"Fools or not, they did it. We know that much." - -"Do we?" - -"_Don't_ we!" - -"I don't see it." - -"Don't you see what they've done? They have left your schooner here and -gone off in Spencer's. - -"Who has?" - -"Look here, Smiley, you are on the wrong side of this case. You ought to -be working for the government." - -"I may be before I get through with it. You see what I'm driving at, -don't you?" - -"About yourself?" - -"Hang myself. About Spencer." - -"And McGlory?" - -"No, not McGlory. Just Spencer." - -"Why not McGlory?" - -"Just this--" - -Wilson approached. "There's nobody here, Bill." - -"Wait over there a minute, Bert, with the boys. Go on, Smiley." - -"McGlory is a sailor; Spencer isn't. McGlory would feel safer on a boat; -Spencer knows these woods like a book. Do you follow?" - -"Go on." - -"Now, I'm just as sure as that I'm sitting here, that when it came to a -crisis like this, those two would disagree." - -"And you ought to know them." - -"I know McGlory. He isn't the kind that takes orders from anybody, drunk -or sober. And from the look I had at old Spencer, I don't think he is -either. He looked to me like a cool hand. Quiet, you know, with a sort -of cold eye. It doesn't sound like Spencer to put out into the Lake with -revenue cutters closing in all around him." - -"But does it sound like McGlory?" - -"Exactly. He's bull headed." - -"Then you think the other schooner _was_ here?" - -"More than likely." - -"And McGlory took it and Spencer didn't?" - -"That's getting near it." - -"And who wrote that note?" - -"I don't know. I never saw Spencer's writing, and McGlory's only once or -twice. It's written rough, but it looks familiar, somehow." - -"McGlory's work then, likely?" - -"Maybe." - -"But what object would Spencer have in staying behind? Where could he -go?" - -"He could get out of Michigan and down to Mexico without one chance in -a hundred of being caught--not unless you had men on every train in the -United States." - -"You mean he would make for a railway?" - -"Yes." - -"But he would have to go to Alpena to do it." - -"Not a bit. He needn't go anywhere near the coast. There's a town called -Hewittson, on the Central Road, about fifty miles back in the woods, -southwest of here. It's the terminal of a branch line, and it's the -nearest point." - -"Even then he would have to go through Detroit or Michigan City, where -we _have_ men." - -"No, he wouldn't. He could get over to the Grand Rapids and Indiana with -a few changes and without passing through a single big town. When he -once got down there in Indiana, you would have a pretty vigorous time -catching him." - -Beveridge mused. "This is all very interesting, Smiley, but it is hardly -enough to act on." - -"Isn't it, though? What earthly good could you do on the water that -Captain Sullivan couldn't do just as well without you? There he is with -his men, and he ought to do what you tell him." - -"I don't know about that," said Beveridge, with a smile. - -"Anyhow," Dick went on eagerly, "the old _Foote_ isn't going to make any -more miles an hour for having you on board." - -"There's something in that. You seem to be keen on this business." - -"Keen! Good Lord, man! don't you see the position I'm in? Don't you see -that my only chance is to help you run this down and get at the facts? -Honest, I don't see what you could lose by taking a flier overland to -Hewittson. It's just one more chance opened up for you, and you ought to -take it." - -"How did you happen to know so much about these railroads up here?" - -"You didn't suppose I had my eyes shut when I was looking at that chart -the other day, did you?" - -"It seems to me you took in a lot in a thundering short time." - -"Of course I did. It is my business to take in a lot when I look at a -chart." - -"Well, this is interesting, Smiley. I 'll think it over. Come on, boys." - -The sailors rowed them back to the steamer; and the special agent -was promptly closeted with Captain Sullivan. He laid out the whole -situation, suggesting that the Captain keep a close watch on the Burnt -Cove region and that he leave a launch at Spencer's. The fugitives -had left nearly all they had, even to clothing, behind, and it was -conceivable that they might return. - -"I wish," he added, as he rose to go, "that I could call on the county -authorities. Wilson and I may have our hands full if we meet them." - -"You think you'd better not?" - -"Hardly. It is even chances that they are mixed up in the business some -way. Spencer has known them longer than we have." - -He left the Captain's stateroom, and found Smiley waiting for him by -the wheel-house. "There's one thing I didn't say when we were talking," -began the prisoner, looking with some hesitation at the agent. - -"What's that, Smiley? Speak up. I'm starting now." - -"You're going to try it, then?" - -"Yes." - -"Will you take Pink and me with you?" - -Beveridge straightened up and flashed a keen, inquiring glance through -Dick's eyes, down to the bottom of his soul. Dick met it squarely. - -"By Jove!" said Beveridge. - -Not a word said Smiley. - -"By Jove! I 'll do it!" - -Dick turned away, limp. - -"Smiley!" - -He turned back. - -"Where's Harper?" - -"Down below." - -"Bring him to my stateroom. Be quick about it." - -A very few moments more, and Dick and Harper knocked at the special -agent's door. - -"Come in." - -They entered, and found Beveridge and Wilson together. Beveridge closed -the door, and there the four men stood, crowded together in the narrow -space. Beveridge gave them another of his sharp glances, then he drew -from his coat pockets two revolvers and held them out, one in each hand. - -Dick and Pink looked speechless. - -"Well, take 'em. You boys are to help me see this thing through, now." - -"Do you--do you mean that?" - -"I don't joke with pistols." - -Without more words each reached out. Dick thrust his into his hip -pocket; but Pink opened his and looked at the loaded cylinder. - -"Now, boys," said Beveridge, "we're off." Wilson descended first to the -launch, and Dick was about to follow when Captain Sullivan hurried up -and caught his arm. "Here, here! This won't do!" - -Dick turned, and started to speak; then, seeing that Beveridge was -approaching, he waited. - -"That's all right, Captain," called the special agent; "let him go." - -"Let him go!" - -Beveridge drew the Captain aside. - -"You aren't going to take him ashore with you?" - -"Yes, both of 'em." - -Anger was struggling with disgust in the Captain's face. "You'd better -hand 'em revolvers and be done with it." - -"I've done that already." - -"Oh, you _have!_" - -"Yes, sir. And I don't mind telling you that, guilty or not, there -aren't two men I'd feel safer with in the Southern Peninsula." - -"Oh, there _ain't!_" A feeble reply, but the old Captain was beyond -words. "Very well," was all he could get out, "very well!" - -With that they parted; and the boat, with the strangely selected party -aboard, made for the shore. - -"Now, Smiley," said Beveridge, when the boat had left them on the sand, -"how about our direction?" - -"Exactly southwest from here. I suppose we shall have to make for -Hewittson in a straight line, and see if we can't get there first." -A sort of road led off in a southwesterly direction, and this they -followed for an hour. Then it swung off to the left, and they plunged -into the forest, from now on to be guided only by the compass. The -afternoon wore along. For two hours, three hours, four hours, they -tramped through the forest, which now opened out into a vista of brown -carpet and cool shade, now ran to a blackened jungle of stumps and -undergrowth; but always underfoot was the sand, no longer white but -yellow and of a dustlike quality. It gave under the foot at every step; -it rose about them and got into their throats and finally into their -tempers. - -"Say, Smiley," called Wilson. He had swung his coat over his shoulder; -his face was streaked with sweat and dirt; the spring was gone from his -stride. "Say, Smiley, where are those streams you were talking about?" - -"Give it up." - -"This is a pretty place you're getting us into." - -"Shut up, Bert!" said Beveridge. "You tend to business, and quit -talking." - -"Who's talking? Can't I ask a civil question?" - -"From the sound, I guess you can't." - -"You're saying a word too much there, Bill Beveridge!" - -Beveridge stopped short and wheeled around. He had tied the sleeves -of his coat through one suspender so that it hung about his knees and -flapped when he walked. His waistcoat was open, his collar was melted to -a rag; altogether he was nearly as tired and hot as his assistant. - -"What do you say to sitting down a minute?" suggested Smiley, -diplomatically. - -But Wilson returned to the attack. "How long are you going to keep on -this way, Bill?" - -The obstinate quality in Wilson's voice roused a counter-obstinacy in -Beveridge. He decided not to reply. - -"Maybe the sand's getting into his ears so he can't hear well," said -Wilson, addressing Harper as nearly as anybody. But Pink, rather than -get into the controversy, went off a little way to a spruce tree and -fell to cutting off a piece of the gum. - -"It's just as you like, Bill," pursued Wilson. "Of course, it ain't -any of my business,--but I just thought I'd tell you we passed that big -clump of pines over there about two hours and a half ago." - -In spite of him, Beveridge's eyes sought the spot indicated. - -"I don't care, you understand, Bill. I 'll go where I'm ordered. But if -you _will_ go on trusting that compass of yours, don't you think maybe -we'd better be thinking about saving up what sandwiches we've got left? -These Michigan woods _ain't_ a very cheerful spot to spend the fall, -unless you've planned that way, you know,--brought tents and things, and -maybe a little canned stuff." - -"Oh, go to----!" muttered Beveridge, without turning. - -"What's that you said?" Wilson was on his feet. - -Here Smiley broke in with the suggestion that they try marking trees. - -And for an hour they were tearing their shirts to strips, and sighting -forward from tree to tree; then the early twilight began to settle on -the forest. They spoke of it no more, but pushed on feverishly under the -leadership of Beveridge, whose spirits, which had reached low-water mark -in the difference with Wilson, were flowing again. From rapid walking -they took to running; still the twilight deepened. Finally the uneven -ground and the deep shadows led them into scratches and tumbles, and -they were obliged to stop. - -"Bill," said Wilson, "look over there." - -"Where?" - -"That tree--runs up six feet or so, and shoots off over the ground, and -then turns square up again." - -"Yes. What about it?" A queer sound was creeping into the special -agent's voice. - -"Don't you remember--about three o'clock--the tree we passed? Harper -said it was exactly like a figure four, because of the broken part that -stuck up above the branch,--and you said--" - -"Well, but--" - -"Just take a good look at it." - -Beveridge stepped a little way forward and looked and looked. - -"Well?" - -Beveridge was silent. His eyes left the tree only to fix themselves on -the ground. - -"What do you think, Bill?" - -Instead of replying, the special agent turned abruptly and walked away -through the brush. He soon disappeared, but his assistant could hear him -thrashing along. In a few moments he returned, and without a word set -about building a fire. They all lent a hand, and soon were sitting -around the blaze, moody and silent. - -"Say, boys,"--it was Smiley speaking up,--"I have an idea. Let me take -your compass a minute, Beveridge." - -There was no reply. Smiley thought he had not been understood. "Let's -have your compass, Beveridge." - -Then the special agent looked up. "If you can find it, you're welcome to -it," he said. "Why, you haven't lost it?" - -"If you've got to know, I've thrown it." - -"The------you have!" - -A moment's silence. Somewhere off in the wilderness a twig crackled, and -they all started. Harper's scalp tingled during the long stillness that -followed the sound. - -"What did you do that for?" asked Smiley. "Because we're sitting at -this moment within a hundred feet of where we sat at three o'clock this -afternoon." - -After this the silence grew unbearable. "I don't know how you fellows -feel," said Wilson, "but I'm thirsty clear down to my toes. If there's -any water around here, I'm going to find it." He drew a blazing pine -knot from the fire and started off. - -"Look out you don't set the woods afire," growled Beveridge. - -For five minutes--long minutes--the three sat there and waited. Then -they heard him approaching, and saw his light flickering between the -trees. He came into the firelight, and paused, looking from one to -another with a curious expression. It almost seemed that he was veiling -a smile. - -"Come this way," he finally said. And they got up and filed after him. -He led them a short fifty yards, and paused. They stood on the edge of a -clearing. A few rods away they saw a story-and-a-half farm-house, with -a light in the kitchen window. Farther off loomed the outline of a large -barn. They stumbled on, and found midway between the two buildings a -well with a bucket worked by a crank and chain. - -They could not speak; they looked at one another and grinned foolishly. -Then Beveridge reached for the crank, but Dick caught his arm. - -"Hold on there, Bill," he said fervently, drawing a small flask from his -hip pocket, "you wouldn't spoil a thirst like this with water?" - -"You don't mean to say that you've had this in your clothes all along?" -said Beveridge. - -"Yes. I thought from the way things were going we might need it more -to-morrow than to-day." - -There was a general smacking of lips as the flask went around. Then they -paused and looked at the house. - -"Well," observed Beveridge, "I'm not sure that I want to be told where -we are--but here goes!" And he walked slowly toward the kitchen door, -sweeping his eyes about the farmyard and taking in all that could -be seen in the darkness. At his knock there was a noise in the -kitchen,--the sound of a chair scraping,--and the door was opened a very -little way. - -"How are you?" began the special agent. - -The farmer, for it was he who blocked the doorway, merely looked -suspiciously out. - -"We're a camping party, Mr.--Mr.--" - -"Lindquist's my name." His voice was thin and peevish, a fit voice for -such a thin, small man. - -"--Mr. Lindquist, and we seem to have lost our way. Can you take us in -and give us a little something to eat?" - -"Why, I don't know's I could. How many is there of you?" - -"Four." - -"You say you're campers?" - -"That's what we are." - -"Is your tent near by?" - -"Blest if we know. If we did, we shouldn't be here." - -It was plain to the three of them, standing back in the dark, that -Beveridge, for reasons of his own, was moving very cautiously, and -equally plain that the little man had some reason for being cautious -too. It was hard to think that any honest farmer, living so lonely a -life, would be so downright inhospitable. - -"And you say you want something to - -"Well, now,"--there was no trace of impatience in the special agent's -voice,--"that's just as you like. We don't want to impose on you; and of -course we're more than willing to pay for what we get." - -"Well, I dunno. I s'pose you might come in. Maybe we've got a little -bread and milk." - -The kitchen was not a large room. The floor was bare, as were the -walls, saving a few county-fair advertisements in the form of colored -lithographs. A thin, colorless, dulleyed little woman was seated beside -a pine table, sewing by the light of a kerosene lamp. The third member -of the family, a boy of fourteen, did not appear until a moment later. -When the sound of the opening door reached his ears, he was lying flat -on his bed, chin propped on hands, feverishly boring through a small -volume in a flashy paper binding. - -Beveridge, as they all found seats, was taking in the farmer, noting his -shifting eyes, and his clothes, which were nothing more than a suit of -torn overalls. - -"Diana," said Lindquist, "you might give these young men some bread and -milk." - -His wife laid aside her sewing without a word, and went to the pantry. - -"Now," began Beveridge, "I suppose we ought to find out where we are." - -"What's that?" - -"Where are we, Mr. Lindquist? What's the nearest town?" - -"The nearest town, you said?" - -"Yes." - -"Why, Ramsey, I guess, or--" - -"Or--what?" - -"Or--Spencer's place." - -"That's what I was afraid of." Beveridge turned to his companions, -adding, "You see, we've got back near the lake." - -At the sound of strange voices, the boy came down the stairs and stood -in a corner, gazing at the strangers, and holding his book behind him. - -"How far off is the Lake, Mr. Lindquist?" - -"How--what's that you say?" - -"How far off is the Lake?" - -"What Lake?" - -"Lake Huron, of course." - -"Lake Huron?--Oh, twenty,--twenty-two mile." - -"That's another story!" exclaimed Wilson. But Beveridge, evidently -fearing his assistant's tongue, gave him a look that quieted him. The -faces of the four travellers all showed relief. - -The bread and milk were ready now, and they fell to, joking and laughing -as heartily as if their only care had been a camp outfit somewhere in -the woods; but all the time the three were watching Beveridge, awaiting -his next move. It came, finally, when the last crumb of bread had -disappeared and the plates had been pushed back. - -"Now, Mr. Lindquist," said Beveridge, "it's getting on pretty late in -the evening, and we're tired. Can't you put us up for the night? Not in -the house--I'd hardly ask that--but out in the barn, say?" As he spoke -he laid a two-dollar bill on the table and pushed it over close to the -farmer's hand. - -"Well, I dunno." For a moment the bill lay there between their two -hands, then Lindquist's nervous fingers slowly closed over it. "I -suppose you could sleep out there." - -"That's first-rate. We 'll go right out if you don't mind. You needn't -bother about coming. Just let your boy there bring a lantern and show us -where to go." - -Lindquist did not take to this. "Axel," he said, "you go up to bed. -Mind, now!" Then he lighted the lantern and led the way to the barn. -When he had left them, tumbled about on the fragrant hay, Smiley spoke -up. "Well, Beveridge, what next?" - -"Didn't he lock the door just then?" - -"Yes," said Harper, "I'm sure I heard it. I 'll go and see." - -Slowly he descended, and felt his way across the floor, returning with -the report that the door was fast. - -"Now, boys, I 'll tell you," said Beveridge. "We 'll take a little rest. -It's all right as long as one of us is awake. Before the night's over -we've got to get hold of that boy, but we won't make a disturbance yet." - -"Oh," cried Dick, a flood of light breaking in on his understanding, -"it's the boy you're after." - -"Yes, it's the boy, of course. I've had to sit down a good many times in -my life and thank the Lord for my luck, but this beats it all." - -"Are you sure, though, that they went through here?" - -"Am I sure? Could you look at the old man and ask me that? What I'd like -to know is how far off they are just now." - -"Lindquist doesn't look as if he'd tell." - -"Oh, no; _he_ won't tell." - -"Would it do any good to make him?" - -"Put on a little pressure, you mean?" - -"Yes." - -"I don't think so. He'd lie to me, and we wouldn't have any way of -knowing the difference. The boy is our game." - -"Why not get him now? We could break out of here easy enough." - -"No, Smiley, you're a little off the track there. He must tell us on the -sly. Don't you see, he's a good deal more afraid of his father than he -is of us. If we aren't careful, we 'll have him lying too." - -"Have you thought of the old lady?" - -"Yes, but I'm doubtful there. She is afraid of him too. It's more than -likely that she was kept pretty much out of the way. Anyhow, her ideas -would be confused." - -"But sitting up here in the haymow isn't going to bring us any nearer to -the boy." - -"Isn't it?" - -"I don't see how." - -"Did you notice the book he was reading?" - -"No, what book? I didn't see any book." - -"I guess maybe you were right, Smiley, about your eyes being trained for -sea work. Now, I 'll tell you what. This little rest may be the only one -we're entitled to for a day or so, and I wish you fellows would curl -right up and go to sleep. I'm going to stay awake for a while. Harper, -over there, is the only sensible one in the lot. He's been asleep for -ten minutes." - -"No, he ain't," drawled a sleepy voice. - -"I can't get comfortable," growled Wilson. "How is a man going to sleep -with this hay sticking into your ears and tickling you?" - -"Next time I take you out, Bert," said Beveridge, "I 'll bring along a -pneumatic mattress and a portable bath-tub and a Pullman nigger to carry -your things." - -"That's all right, Bill. Wait till you try it yourself. There are -spiders in the hay, millions of 'em,--and if there's anything I hate, -it's spiders." - -"Here," said Harper, "take some o' my pillow. I ain't having no -difficulty." He threw over a roll of cloth, which Wilson, after some -feeling about, found. - -"Hold on, Harper, this isn't your coat?" - -"No, it's part of a bundle of rags I found here." - -"What's that!" Beveridge exclaimed. "A bundle of rags?" - -"Feels like part of an old dress," said Wilson. - -"Give it here, Bert. I 'll take what you've got too, Harper." With the -cloth under his arm Beveridge found the ladder and made his way to the -floor below. Then he lighted a match. - -The others crawled to the edge of the mow and looked down into the -cavernous, dimly lighted space. - -"Look out you don't set us afire, Bill." - -"Come down here, Smiley, and see what you make of this." - -It was not necessary to summon Dick twice. He swung off, hung an instant -by his hands, dropped to the floor, and bent with the special agent -over what seemed to be the waist and skirt of a gingham dress. The -examination grew so interesting that Harper and Wilson came down the -ladder and peered over Dick's shoulders. - -"You see," said Beveridge,--"here, wait till I light another match. Take -this box, Bert, will you, and keep the light going? You see, it isn't an -old dress at all. It's rather new, in fact. Mrs. Lindquist would never -have thrown it away--never in the world. Now what in the devil--what's -that, Smiley?" - -"I didn't say anything. I was just thinking--" - -"Well--what?" - -"I don't know that I could swear to it, but--you see, you can't tell the -color very well in this light." - -[Illustration: 0287] - -"Oh, it's blue, plain enough." - -"You're sure?" - -"Perfectly." - -"Looks nearer green to me. But if it's blue, I've seen it before." - -"Where?" - -"The day I was at Spencer's. There was a girl there, the old man's -sister-in-law, and she wore this dress." - -"Are you perfectly sure, Smiley?" - -"Well--dresses aren't in my line, but--yes, I'm sure. I noticed it -because her eyes were blue too--and there was this white figure in it. -Her name is Estelle. She waited on table, and--" - -"Go on--don't stop." - -"Wait up," said Wilson. "If you've got it identified, I'm going to quit -burning up these matches. There are only about half a dozen left." - -"All right. Put it out." And they talked on in the dark, seated, Dick -and Beveridge on the tongue of a hay-wagon, Wilson on an inverted -bucket, Harper on the floor. - -"Why, she waited on table; and then McGlory disappeared and I had to go -after him, and I found him talking to her--" - -"Hold on!" Beveridge broke in. "You say you found her and McGlory -together?" - -"Yes. I guess we're thinking of the same thing. From the way they both -acted, I rather guess it's an understood thing. It wasn't as if he had -met her there by chance, not a bit of it. And I've been thinking since, -it seems more than likely that she would go wherever he went." - -"That's right!" Beveridge exclaimed. "I'm sure of it. I know a little -something about it myself." - -"You do?" - -"Yes. This McGlory has left a wife behind him in Chicago." - -"Madge, you mean?" - -"Yes. The main reason he took up the offer to go out with you, Smiley, -was so he could get up here and see this--what's her name?--Estelle." - -"So there is more than a fighting chance that where she is you 'll find -him." - -"Exactly." - -"And that means that he has been here to-day." - -"Right again." - -"Then who sailed the schooner for Canada?" - -Harper, leaning forward in the dark and straining to catch every -syllable of the low-pitched conversation, here gave a low gasp of sheer -excitement. There had been moments--hours, even--during the day when -the object of this desperate chase had seemed a far-off, imaginary thing -beside the real discomforts of the tramp through the pines. But now, in -this sombre place, they were plunged into the mystery of the flight, and -he had been the unwitting means of deepening the mystery. - -"That sort of mixes us up, Beveridge," said Smiley. - -"Never mind." Beveridge's voice was exultant. "We're hot on the trail -now. This taking to the woods is about the neatest thing I ever did." - -"You're right there, Bill," Wilson chimed in. - -Until now Dick had supposed that the land chase had been entirely his -own notion, but he said nothing. - -"Look here, Bill,"--it was Wilson breaking the silence,--"there isn't -any use of our trying to sleep to-night. Let's break out and run this -thing down." - -"How are you going to know your way in the middle of the night?" - -"Make 'em show us." - -"Suppose you can't make them?" - -"I know--you're still thinking about that boy. But we are no nearer him -than we were an hour ago." - -"Listen a minute!" - -They sat motionless. There was no sound; nothing but the heavy stillness -of the night. - -Wilson whispered, "Think you heard something?" - -"S-sh!" - -A key turned softly in the lock. Then the door opened a little way, -and against the sky they could see a head. Wilson drew his revolver. -Beveridge heard the hammer click, and said quietly, "Don't be a fool, -Bert. Put that thing back in your pocket." - -"Are you's in there?" came a voice from the door. - -"Yes. Come along." - -The door opened wider to admit the owner of the voice, then closed. -A moment later a lantern was lighted and held up before the grinning, -excited face of the farmer's son. - -"Come on, Alex. What do you want?" - -The boy slowly approached until he stood before them; then he set the -lantern on the floor, where it cast long shadows. - -"What is it, my boy?" - -Axel looked knowingly at them. "Say," he whispered, "I know what you's -are. You're detectives." - -"Oh, we are, are we? What makes you think that?" - -"You're detectives. I know." - -"Sit down, and talk it over. Do you smoke?" - -"Can I smoke? Well, I should say I can. You just watch me." He accepted -a cigar, his first, and lighted it. "Don't let on to Pa, will you? He'd -give me--" Unable to call up a strong enough word, the boy concluded -with a grin. - -"That's all right. We know how it is ourselves. Your father has enough -to worry him just about now, anyhow. Didn't he have but the one suit of -clothes?" - -"Well, there was his old everyday suit, but that got tore so bad Ma said -she couldn't mend it, and there wasn't only his Sunday suit and his work -clothes left." - -"You don't mean that he had to fight with those fellows?" - -"Oh, no,--that was a long time ago. Say, this cigar is the real thing." - -"It ought to be good. It's a fifteen-cent-straight." - -"_You_ don't say so!" - -"I 'll tell you one thing, Alex." - -"My name's Axel." - -"I 'll tell you one thing. Your father has made a bad mistake in allowing -himself to get mixed up with these people. He is with the wrong crowd. -I'm the only one that could help him out." - -The boy began to be frightened. "Oh, he ain't mixed up in it!" - -"He isn't?" - -"No. He never seen 'em before." - -"What does he want to act this way for, then?" - -"Well, you see--" - -"Now look here, my boy. The sooner we understand each other, the better. -Your father has got himself into a dangerous situation. He can't deceive -me. I know all about it. Does he think he could keep me in here any -longer than I want to stay by locking the door? I'm half minded to -arrest him for this. He can't do that sort o' thing to me!" - -Axel was downright frightened now. He held his cigar so long that it -went out. Wilson struck a match, and lighted it for him. - -"I suppose you would like me to believe that he was forced to give up -his clothes?" - -"Oh, he was! The fellow with the black hair--" - -"McGlory?" - -"Seems to me they called him Joe." - -"That's the same man. Go on." - -"Why, he pulled a gun, and marched Pa out here to the barn. Ma ran -upstairs crying. And the lady, she was crying, too. And the dark fellow, -he made the lady climb up where you was, on the hay--" - -"Yes, I know," Beveridge interrupted, indicating the dress. - -"And then he held the gun while Pa took off his Sunday suit that he'd -put on because he thought they was going to be visitors, and he threw it -up to the lady, and she put it on. One of the suspenders was busted, and -she didn't know how it worked, and she cried, and then Pa had to holler -up how he'd fixed it with a string and you twisted the string around -twice and then tied it. And then the dark fellow, he made me run in and -get Pa his overhauls." - -"So they changed clothes right here, eh?" - -"Yes, and the lady cried, and when she'd got all dressed in Pa's -clothes, why, she just said she wouldn't come down. And Joe, he said she -would, or he'd know the reason why. Then the others laughed some--" - -"_The others!_" - -"Yes, and they--" - -"Hold on! How many were there in this party?" - -"Why, three or four, counting in the lady." - -"Three or four! Don't you know?" - -"Well, you see, I didn't think about counting 'em then. What was I -saying?" - -"You said the others laughed." - -"Oh, yes. Not very much, you know,--just a little. Then the boss, he -said--" - -"What sort of a looking man was this boss?" - -"I dunno." - -"Didn't you see him?" - -"Oh, well, I--" - -"What was it he said this time?" - -"Oh,--he said something to Joe about not getting excited. I guess he -thought he was kind o' mean to the lady. Anyhow, she come down after a -little and kind o' stood around behind things. She was frightened some, -I guess. And then they all went off." - -"Which way?" - -"I dunno. They told us we hadn't better watch 'em, and so I thought -maybe I wouldn't." - -"Was that the last you saw of them?" - -"Well--not quite." - -"Not quite! What else?" - -"Before they'd gone very far, the boss came back." - -"Oh, he did?" - -"And he told Pa he guessed Joe was a little excited, and they hadn't -meant to be hard on him. And so he gave Pa a little money for his -trouble." - -"I thought you said your father wasn't mixed up with them." - -"He ain't. Not a bit." - -"But you say he took their money?" - -"What else could he do? They ain't the sort o' men you'd want to argue -with." - -"There is something in that. But why did he try to lock us in here?" - -"I dunno." - -"Oh, you don't." - -"No, but--I 'll tell you. Pa's rattled." - -"I shouldn't wonder." - -"He come up to my room just after he'd been out here with you, and -says if I ever said a word about it, it would land the whole family in -state's prison. That ain't so, is it?" - -"Well, I'm not prepared to say." - -The cigar was out again. "Oh, say, now, it wasn't his fault. He didn't -do nothing but what they made him do." - -"Of course, the fact that he helped them under compulsion might be -considered in a court of law, but I'm not prepared to say that it -mightn't go hard with you all. I 'll do what I can to get you out of it, -but it's a bad scrape. What direction is Hewittson from here?" - -"Off that way. There's a road 'most all the way." - -"That's first-rate. I want you to go with us." - -"When?" - -"Now." - -"Oh, Pa--he wouldn't let me--" - -"But I tell you to come." - -"Would it help us any in getting off?" - -"I might be able to make it easier if you really give me valuable -assistance." - -"We 'll have to get away pretty quiet." - -"Very well." Beveridge was rolling up the blue dress into a small -bundle. "All ready, Bert--Smiley?" - -"All right here." - -"Put out your light, Axel." - -They stepped cautiously outside, and the boy locked the door behind -them. "Hold on," he whispered; "don't go around that way. Pa ain't -asleep, never in the world!" - -"Which way shall we go?" - -"Here--after me--through the cow-yard." They slipped around behind the -barn, made a short detour through the edge of the forest, and reached -the road beyond the house. - -"Does this road run both ways, Axel?" Beveridge asked. - -"Yes, from Hewittson to Ramsey." - -"Do you hear that, Smiley? We must have been within a few hundred yards -of it most of the way." - -"Never mind, we 'll make better time now, anyhow." - -They pushed on, indeed, rapidly for half a mile, guided by the lantern, -which Axel had relighted. Then the boy, overcome by the tobacco, had to -be left, miserably sick, in a heap by the roadside. Beveridge snatched -the lantern from his heedless fingers, thrust a bill into his pocket by -way of payment, and the party pushed on. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--THURSDAY NIGHT--VAN DEELEN'S BRIDGE - - -[Illustration: 0302] - -THE stars were shining down on the stream that passed sluggishly under -Van Deelen's bridge, but they found no answering twinkle there. A gloomy -stream it was, winding a sort of way through the little farm, coming -from--somewhere, off in the pines; going to--somewhere, off in the -pines; brown by day, black by night; the only silent thing in the -breathing, crackling forest. It seemed to come from the north, gliding -out from under the green-black canopy with a little stumble of white -foam, as if ashamed in the light of the clearing. Then, sullen as -ever, it settled back, slipped under the bridge--where the road from -Lindquist's swung sharply down--with never a swirl, and gave itself -up to the pines and hemlocks that bent over. Behind the barn-yard it -circled westward, and paralleled the road for a few hundred yards, as if -it, too, were bound for Hewittson; but changed its mind, turned sharply -south, and was gone. Whither? The muskrats and minks perhaps could tell. - -The clearing, in spite of the house and barn, was desolate; the pines -were pressing irresistibly in on every side to claim the land Dirck van -Deelen had stolen from them. The road, after crossing the bridge, lost -itself in the confused tracks between house and barn, only to reappear -on the farther side and plunge again into the forest,--a weary, yellow -road, telling of miles of stump land as well as of the fresher forest. - -It was late, very late, but there was a light in the house. A woman, -in man's clothing, lay on the parlor sofa, too tired to rest. She was -white; her breath came hard; her eyes were too bright. McGlory stood -over her with a pair of scissors in his hand. He had cut off her long -hair, and now it lay curling on the floor. - -"Here, you,"--he was speaking to Van Deelen,--"get a broom and take that -up. Be quick about it. What are you gawking at?" - -Van Deelen, slow of movement and slower of thought, obeyed. - -"Now," said McGlory to the woman, "come along!" And he took her arm. - -"Oh, no, Joe! I can't go! It will kill me!" - -"Cut that--get up!" - -Roche, who had been eating in the next room, came in, looked at them, -and then hurried out, where the leader of the party awaited him. - -"Aren't they 'most ready?" - -"Yes--coming right along--if it don't kill her." - -But when they heard a step and turned, only the woman appeared in the -doorway. - -"Where's Joe, Estelle?" - -"He--he's coming." She staggered. Roche caught her, helped her down the -steps, and with his arm about her waist led her out to the road. "He -says to go along, and he 'll catch us." She was plucky, or frightened, -for she staggered along biting her lip. - -This was what McGlory had said to Van Deelen after he had got her to the -door: "Give me some paper and a pen--quick!" - -They were promptly placed on the diningroom table; and he scrawled off -a few lines, folded the paper, and looked up with a scowl. The strain of -the week had not improved his expression. "Give me an envelope; I want -you to mail this for me." - -"I haven't got one." - -"The------you haven't!" - -"Honest--that's the truth. I'd have to go to Hewittson, anyway. It 'll be -quicker for you to take--" - -"Oh, shut up. I'm sick o' your voice. Here, take this." He thrust the -letter into his pocket and counted out twenty-five dollars in bills. -"This is for you. And mind, nothing said. You don't know us--never seen -four men coming through here in the night. Don't remember ever having -seen four men come through. Understand?" - -Van Deelen drew back a step, and nodded. "No mistake about this now. If -you say a word, the world ain't big enough to hide you." His hand -was straying toward a significant pocket. "None of your hemmings and -haw-ings--if you're in a hurry to get to heaven, just give us away. -Understand?" - -Another nod,--all the farmer was capable of; and McGlory was gone with -a bound, out the door, on toward the little group at the farther side of -the clearing. - -They heard his step and his loud breathing. "What's this?" He had just -made out Roche's arm across Estelle's back. "What's _this?_" He tore the -arm away, whirled Roche around, and slapped his face so hard that he---- - -"By------!" gasped Roche. "By------!" - -They glared at each other; Estelle sobbed. "Try that again, Joe McGlory! -Just try it! Hit me again! Why, you--why, I 'll break your neck!" - -"_You_ will?" - -"Yes, I will. Just hit me again!" - -McGlory looked him over, decided to accept the invitation, and plunged -forward. Roche, without a moment's hesitation, turned and bolted up the -road,--ran as if the fiends were on his heels. McGlory finally stopped, -laughed viciously, and hurled a curse after him. - -The third man let them go; he merely took Estelle's arm and helped her -along, soothing her a little, trying to calm the outburst of hysteria -that had been threatening for twenty-four hours. McGlory waited for -them in the shadow of the woods; and a little farther on Roche fell in -behind, muttering softly, and keeping well away from McGlory. - -Estelle could hardly stagger along. McGlory passed his arm through hers -and dragged her forward. Now she was silent, now she stifled a sob, now -she begged piteously to be left behind. "Let me go back to Van Deelen's, -Joe--please! I can't go on." - -"I thought you was such a walker." - -"Oh, but--not so far as this. Let me go back there." - -"Wouldn't that be smart, now! To leave you where you could blab the -whole thing!" She tried to walk a few steps farther; then she broke -away, stumbled to the roadside, and, sinking to the ground, covered her -face with her hands. - -Roche stopped short and stared at her. The other spoke up: "This won't -do, Joe. There's no use killing her. We 'll drop back in the woods and -take a rest. We 'll all be better for it." - -McGlory sullenly consented. He dragged Estelle off through the -undergrowth to the clearer ground under the trees, and they all -stretched out. In five minutes Roche was the only one awake of the -three men. Without raising his head he slipped over close to Estelle and -rested his hand on her shoulder. She rolled over with a start. "S-sh! -Not so loud, Estelle." - -"Oh, it's you?" - -"Yes. You didn't think I'd forgot, did you, Estelle?" - -"I--I don't understand." - -"Don't you think it's time to quit 'em? What's the use? I guess you know -him now for what he is." - -"Yes, he's mean to me. But--" - -"Don't you see--we can skip out and leave 'em here, and go back near the -house and hide. He wouldn't dast come back after us. The boss wouldn't -never let him." - -"Do you think we could? I'm afraid. He wouldn't stop at anything." - -"You just leave it to me. I can take care o' _him:_" - -"I--I'm afraid. He's so determined. And I told him I'd go with him." - -"What was he a-doin' back there in the house after he sent you out?" - -"I don't know." - -"Not so loud--whisper. Didn't you hear him say anything?" - -"He asked for a pen and paper." - -"Must 'a' wrote a letter. There it is--look there--sticking out of his -pocket. Wait a minute." - -"Don't you try to take it. He 'll shoot you." - -"Oh, damn him! I ain't afraid of two Joe McGlorys. Lemme go." He crept -over, drew out the letter skilfully, and returned. "I don't like to -strike a match here--" - -"Oh, no, no--don't!" - -"Can you crawl off a little ways--behind them bushes?" - -"I guess so; I 'll try." He helped her. "S-sh--careful." - -Behind the bushes they felt safer. Roche lighted a match and held up the -paper. This is what they read:-- - -"Dear Madge: There's a little misunderstanding up this way and I can't -get back for a little while I want some money you put the bills in a -envelope to generel dilivry South Bend Indiana. Don't you try to come to -me because it ain't a very pleasent situation I 'll tell you later where -to come don't forget the money and don't you put my name on it call me -Joe Murphy. Burn this soon as you read it. - -"J." - -Neither saw the insolent brutality of this letter; their thoughts were -elsewhere. Estelle gazed, thunderstruck. Roche held the match until it -burned his finger. As he dropped it and the paper to the ground, and the -dark closed in again, one of the sleepers tossed and mumbled. Estelle -caught his arm. - -"He told me it wasn't so," she whispered. "He told me it wasn't so." - -"Oh, he's just a common, everyday liar. Madge is his wife. Didn't I tell -you so the first day I come to Spencer's?" - -"I don't know. What can we do? Do you think we could get away?" - -"Sure thing." - -"But how?" - -"We 'll sneak back a ways and off to one side in the woods. He can't come -back and search the whole county for us. Don't you see?" - -"But wouldn't _they_ catch us?" She glanced toward the east, whence -pursuit might come. - -"Not a bit of it. Just trust me. Come on--now's the time. Move cautious -till we get on the road." - -He helped her up, and they stole away. For a few moments she was buoyed -up by this new excitement, but soon fell back into the old weariness. -She clung to Roche until he was almost carrying her. "Keep a-going," he -whispered. "I 'll skip back to the house and pick up something to eat, -and then we 'll take to the woods. They can't never catch me, I tell you. -_I 'll_ fool 'em." - -They struggled along. Halfway back to the farm-house Estelle completely -lost heart. "I can't do it!" she moaned. "Stop--let me sit down." - -"Not here, Estelle! Not in the road!" - -"Let me down, I tell you!" - -"But he may be along any minute." - -"I don't care. Let me down." - -"Look here, Estelle, can't you see how it is? If he gets you, he 'll half -kill you. And you 'll have to walk farther with him than you would with -me." - -She was beyond reason. She clung around his neck, holding herself up -even while she begged to be let down. Her condition and the terrible -loneliness of the night were unnerving Roche. "Come along," he said -angrily, "or I 'll make you come!" - -"Don't hurt me!" - -"By------! Don't you say another word!" - -He jerked her roughly forward, while his wild eyes sought the road -behind. - -"You said you'd be good to me!" - -"Well, ain't I good to you? Ain't I saving your life, and you haven't -got the sense to see it?" - -"O dear! Don't--" - -"Keep still, now--come on--Don't you say any more." - -Soon they reached the clearing, and, pausing for breath in the shadows, -they looked about. The night was far advanced, but a light showed in an -upper window of the house. Over in the barn a horse was thrashing about -his stall; the noise was deafening after the stillness. Roche released -Estelle, and to his horror she sank to the ground in a faint. He spoke -to her--she did not hear. He bent over and shook her, felt her wrist and -her forehead. Then he straightened up and looked back along the road. -His breath came fast and hard; the loneliness was closing in on his -soul. He shivered, though the air was not cold, then stepped back, -mopped the sudden sweat from his face, looked down again at the -woman,--even stirred her with his foot,--then turned and ran. Not down -the road, for the lowbrowed McGlory lay sleeping there; not to the -south, for the stream barred the way; but skirting the clearing to the -northern edge and then plunging into the woods, endlong and overthwart, -with a thousand ugly fancies hounding him, with a traitor in his bosom -that opened the door for the mad thoughts freely to enter and gnaw -there. He tripped on a log, pitched headlong and rolled over, scrambled -up with bleeding hands, and ran on in an ecstasy of fear. And the vast -black forest shut in behind him and swallowed him. - -[Illustration: 0315] - -When Estelle's eyes opened, she returned from peace to wretchedness. -Yes, the trees and the night and the swollen feet were real. She crawled -toward the farm-house; something within her warned her not to try to -rise. She lived months in dragging that hundred yards; the one goal of -life was the low stoop and the door under the light. When she reached -it,--her clothes torn, the dust ground into her face and hands,--she -fainted again, and clung to the steps. - -Dirck van Deelen was sitting at the window with a shot-gun across his -knees. He had watched the--he could not see what it was--crawling to -his door. Now he looked out and saw it lying there. Whatever, whoever it -was, this would not do; so he opened the door and carried her up to the -room where his frightened wife was trying to sleep. - -"We 'll have to take her in, Saskia." - -"What is the matter? Is she hurt?" - -"I don't know. I found her on the stoop. Help me examine her." - -But they found no mark of bullet, knife, or blunt instrument. And while -the Dutch woman worked over her, the man went for water. At last she was -brought to a sort of consciousness, and, leaving his wife to care for -her, Van Deelen returned to his window and his gun. - -Roche and Estelle had not been gone an hour when McGlory, haunted by the -fear of pursuit, awoke. He stretched himself, sat up, and looked over to -the spot where Estelle had been lying when he fell asleep. At first he -thought he saw her, a darker shadow, but on rising and walking over he -found no sign of her. He looked about, and called. Roche, too, was not -in sight. He hesitated, not yet fully awake, then turned back and woke -his companion. - -"Well, what's the matter?" - -"They're gone." - -"Who's gone?" - -"Roche and Estelle." - -"How do you know? Have you looked around?" - -"Come over here." - -They prowled behind the trees, parted the bushes here and there, called -as loud as they dared, lighted matches, and examined the ground. Finally -McGlory broke out with an oath: "The little fool! So she thinks she can -serve me this way, eh?" - -"You think they've skipped out?" - -"Think? Do I think it? What do I want to _think_ for? Didn't I see him -a-hugging her?" - -"He was just helping her then." - -"Oh, just helping her, was he?" - -"Well, what you going to do about it?" - -"What'm I going to do?" McGlory was lashing his anger. His voice swelled -until he was roaring out the words: "What'm I going to do? I'm going -to run that Pete Roche down if I have to go to hell for him! I'm going -to---" - -"Drop your voice, Joe. I can hear you. How're you going to find him?" - -"Who you telling to shut up?" - -"Hold on, now. None o' that talk to me!" - -"Oh, you think you can boss me, do you?" - -"Think? I know it. Don't waste your breath trying to bluff me. I asked -you how you're going to find him." - -"How'm I going to--how'm I--why, I 'll break his head--I 'll--" - -"Don't work yourself up. It won't help you any." - -"You think you can talk like that to me? If you ain't careful, I 'll -break _your_ head. I 'll--" - -"How are you going to find him?" - -"You say another word, and I 'll knock your teeth down your throat." - -"I've got my hand in my pocket, Joe, and I've got a loaded gun in my -hand, and if you threaten me again, I 'll blow a hole through you. I've -half a mind to do it anyway. A fool like you has no business getting -into a scrape if he can't keep his head. I'd a heap rather kill you than -get caught through your fool noise. The sooner you understand me, the -better for you. Now tell me how you're going to find out which way to -take." - -"How--" McGlory was not a coward, but he could not face down the -seasoned courage of the man before him. "Why--that's a cinch. Ain't he -headed the same way we are?" - -"Now, Joe, hold on. Don't be a bigger fool than you can help. You don't -really think he'd take her right along over this road, do you?" - -"Why--dam' it!" - -"It's no good talking to you if you can't quiet down. You want to kill -Roche, and you're right. I want him killed, too. The longer he's alive, -the more danger for us. But if you go at him this way, he may kill you." - -"Him! Kill me! Why--" - -"I mean it. He's desperate, too. You can't be too sure that he 'll always -run like he did to-night. He's got Estelle to look out for, too. Now, -it's plain that he hasn't gone down the road, because, look here,--she -isn't good for more than a mile an hour, and he'd have sense enough to -know we'd catch him." - -"Where is he gone, then?" - -"Not very far--we know that much. Likely they're back here in the woods. -Or maybe they went back to Van Deelen's." - -"They'd never go there." - -"They might have to. I guess you don't know much about women, Joe." - -"I reckon I know more 'n's good for me." - -"Then you ought to see she's pretty near done for." - -"Estelle? She's bluffing." - -"No, she isn't. Not a bit of it. When a woman's worked up and tired out -at the same time, something's likely to break. You were a fool to bring -her, anyhow. I don't know why I let you." - -"_You! You_ let me!" - -"You said so much about her being strong. Why, she's a child." - -"Look here, you've said some things tonight that I don't like." - -"Oh, have I? But this isn't getting us along any. The first thing is to -look around here a little more. There are any number of ways they might -have taken without going down the road." - -Even McGlory could see the reason in this suggestion. They lighted -matches and prowled about, peering behind trees and bushes, looking -for broken or bent twigs, for any indication of the passage of a human -being. But the heavy growth of trees shut out what light there was -overhead, and neither was skilful enough to direct his search well. - -"Find anything, Joe?" - -"Not a thing. When it comes to sneaking off, Roche has head enough. It's -the only thing he's good for." - -"The more I think of it, Joe, the more I believe they've gone to the -house." - -"You're off there." - -"No, I'm not. Listen a minute. Supposing they started off in the woods -and tried to dodge the house. Pretty soon Estelle gives out--surer than -New Year's. And it would be pretty soon, too, because the excitement -wouldn't keep her up long. Now what is Roche going to do? He isn't the -man to face out a bad situation like that--never in this world. He'd do -one of two things--he would skip out and leave her, or he would get her -to the house. If he skipped, there isn't one chance in a thousand of our -finding either of them. If he took her to the house, we can get one or -both. We can't stay around here much longer. We'd better try the house, -and if they aren't there, or anywhere about the place, we 'll go on -toward Hewittson." - -"You 'll have to go without me, then." - -"You think so?" - -"I don't leave this place till I see Roche curled up stiff." This was -said as quietly as McGlory could say anything, but it was convincing. -The other looked keenly at him. - -Suddenly McGlory, feeling in his pockets, muttered a curse and started -back toward the spot where they had slept. - -"What's up? Lost something?" - -"None of your business!" McGlory was searching the ground feverishly. - -"If you told me what it was, maybe I could help you." - -No answer. McGlory's temper was rising again. Finding nothing where he -had lain, he began thrashing about the bushes. - -"Unless it's something important, Joe, you're wasting a lot of time." - -"Well, say--you--you ain't seen a paper--or anything, have you?" - -"A letter?" - -"Not exactly. It wasn't in an envelope." - -"Oh, you mean this, maybe." With a lighted match in one hand, he drew -a folded paper from his pocket and started to open it. McGlory sprang -forward, recognized it, and tried to snatch it away. - -"It ain't necessary to read that. It's private business." - -"I have read it." - -"You have read it! You've been prying into my affairs, have you?" - -"Not at all. I found this on the ground and read it. You must have -written it back there when you kept us waiting. You had no business to -do it. I never saw such a fool as you are." As he spoke, he touched the -match to the paper. - -"Here, quit that! Don't you burn that letter!" - -"Now, Joe, you didn't think for a minute I'd let you send this, did -you?" - -"What right you got--" - -"The right of self-preservation. We can't do any letter writing yet -awhile. I 'll help you out with money, but I won't let you do this -sort of thing. Let's start back." He led the way to the road, McGlory -sullenly following; and side by side they stepped out for the farmhouse. -"Beastly sort of a thing to do, Joe,--ask Madge for money to help you -run off with this woman." - -"Well, I'd like to know--Ain't she had enough from me--" - -"I don't doubt she has stood a good deal from you. What sort of a woman -is she, Joe?" - -"Madge? Oh, she's all right." - -"Pretty fond of you, isn't she?" - -"I guess there ain't much doubt about that." - -"I've noticed her a little." - -"Oh, you have, have you?" - -"Certainly. What else can you expect, skylarking around this way?" - -"That's all right. A man's got to have his fling. But when it comes -to--" - -"Madge is a fine-looking woman. I don't believe you know how pretty she -is, Joe. If you got her decent clothes, and took her out to the theatre -now and then, so she could keep her spirits up, she would be hard to -beat." - -This was a new idea to McGlory. But what he said was, "Seems to me -you've done a lot of thinking about my wife." - -"It's your own fault. But look here, do you think such an awful lot of -Estelle?" - -"Oh, yes. I've had some fun with her. Of course, she ain't the woman -that Madge is." - -"I was wondering a little--" McGlory's companion paused. - -"What was you wondering?" - -"What you're going to do with Estelle when you find her." - -"Do with her? Why--why--" - -"You didn't think she'd come right back to you--things the same as they -was before--did you?" - -"Why--" - -"Did she know you had a wife?" - -"Well, no,--she didn't know that." - -"But she does now. She has read the letter." - -McGlory had not thought of this. - -"Estelle isn't altogether a fool, you know. Not so bad as Roche--or -you. If I were you, I'd stick to Madge. If you don't, some better fellow -will." - -"Who do you mean now, for instance?" - -"Never mind who I mean. I don't think you've seen yet how mussy this -business is. Here Estelle is, like enough, on our hands. Now we can't -leave her behind. She wouldn't come along with you; and even if she -would, she isn't strong enough. If we did leave her here, it simply -means that she would be blabbing out the whole story to the first -goodlooking chap that asked her a few questions." - -"But don't you see? I can't let a man insult me like Roche done." - -"No, you can't. But if you could fix things so Roche nor nobody could -get her, and still you'd be free to go back to Madge, you wouldn't -object, would you?" - -"Why, no--sure not. How do you mean?" - -"If you find her there at the house, or in the barn, or anywhere around, -you'd better just--here, your knife ain't much good. Take mine." He -opened his clasp knife--the blade was five inches long--and held it out. - -McGlory took it, stood still in his tracks looking at it, and then -raised his eyes to the face of his companion. - -"Well--have you got the nerve?" - -"Have I got the nerve!" McGlory laughed out loud, and thrust the open -knife into his belt, at the side, under his coat. - -"I wouldn't use a gun unless I had to." He paused, laid his hand on -McGlory's arm, and dropped his voice. "Look there! There's a light in -the window." - -McGlory swelled with rage. "I 'll put a stop to this!" - -"Hold on a minute, Joe. I 'll slip around the bank of the creek here, the -other side of the barn, so I can watch the road and the barn both." -He ran silently away, dodging among the trees, and in a moment had -disappeared. While McGlory was standing there, breathing hard and -twitching impatiently, he passed behind the barn-yard, keeping always -among the trees of the bank, and on to the bridge. Here he looked -carefully around, then stooped under the beams of the bridge flooring -and got into a scow that lay there. - -McGlory stood still as long as he could, then, throwing, the reins to -his temper, he strode toward the house. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--THE MEETING - -[Illustration: 0332] - -IT was between eleven o'clock and midnight when McGlory and his -companion returned to Van Deelen's; it was between ten and eleven of -this same Thursday night when Axel Lindquist was taken sick on the road, -not a long walk from his father's house. - -In less than an hour Beveridge and his companions reached a turn in -the road and found themselves at the top of the slope,--it was hardly -a hill,--with Van Deelen's bridge a little way below them, and the -farm-yard beyond. Beveridge extinguished the lantern. "Look there!" -Wilson exclaimed. - -"Where?" - -"At the house yonder. Don't you see there's a light burning?" - -"That's a fact. We 'll move a little quietly, boys. Bert, you step around -between the house and the barn and keep an eye on the back door. Harper -will be with you." - -They started down toward the bridge while Beveridge was speaking. When -they had crossed over, Harper stopped. - -"Can you wait just a minute? I've got a stone in my shoe." - -"We 'll go ahead. Come on as soon as you can and join Bert out by the -barn." And the three passed on, leaving Pink on a log at the roadside. - -Beveridge and Smiley went up to the front door and knocked. There was -no response. But for the light in one window, the house might have been -deserted. Beveridge knocked again. "Open up in there!" he shouted. But -no one answered. Smiley turned and looked around the dim clearing with a -shudder. "Lonesome, isn't it?" he said. "What a place to live!" - -Beveridge's mind was bent on getting in. "So they won't answer, eh? -We 'll see." He stepped back to the ground, picked up a length of -cord-wood, and struck a heavy blow on the door. At this, a head appeared -in an upper window. - -"Who's there?" - -"Open your door and I 'll tell you." - -"Tell me who you are, first." - -"A special agent of the United States Treasury Department." - -"What do you want me for?" - -"I don't care anything about you. I want the men you have hidden here." - -"There ain't nobody here but my wife and me." - -"Will you open, or shall I break in your door?" - -"Wait a minute! Don't break it! How do I know you're what you say you -are?" - -"Smiley, fetch a rail, will you please?" - -"Hold on there! I 'll be down in a minute." The minute was not a quarter -gone when the same voice was heard through the door, saying, "You -haven't told me your names yet." - -"Are you going to open this door?" - -"Yes, yes. Don't get impatient now." The bolt slid back, and the door -opened a few inches. These inches were promptly occupied by Beveridge's -foot. - -"What's your name, my friend?" asked the special agent. - -"Van Deelen. I don't see what you want here. There ain't nobody here but -us." - -"We 'll see about that." Beveridge, as he spoke, threw his weight on -the door and forced it open so abruptly that the farmer was thrown -back against the wall. He entered with Smiley close at his heels. "Of -course," he went on, as he shut it behind him, "if there isn't anything -really the matter here, you won't mind my looking around a little." - -"Why, no--oh, no--only--" - -"Only what?" - -"My wife's down sick, and any noise or excitement might upset her." - -"Nervous trouble, maybe." - -"Yes, something of that sort." - -"Has to keep her room, I suppose?" - -"Yes, yes." - -"Room shut up so noise won't disturb her?" - -"Yes, we keep it shut." - -"Place got on her nerves a little, maybe. Should think it would be sort -of monotonous here. No doctor, I suppose?" - -"No, not this side of Hewittson." - -"How long has she been troubled?" - -"Why--" - -"Sudden attack, to-day or yesterday? Sick headache, and all that?" - -"Yes--she has a bad headache." - -"Good deal of nausea, too? Sight of food distasteful?" - -"Oh, yes, she doesn't want anything to eat. - -"Can't keep anything on her stomach? Lost interest in living--no -enthusiasm for anything? Is that the form it takes?" - -"Why, yes--yes--" - -"Curious thing. Seems to prevail in this neighborhood. Young Lindquist, -back up the road, has the same trouble." - -Van Deelen's stolid face wore a puzzled expression. He seemed not to -know how far to resent this inquisition. "Say," he asked, "what do you -want?" - -"I want to know if you always receive folks with a shot-gun?" - -"Why--" - -"Bad characters in the neighborhood, maybe. Have they been giving you -trouble to-night?" - -"Who're you talking about?" - -"McGlory and the rest. When did they come?" - -"There hasn't anybody been here." - -"Oh, all right. That's first-rate--would you mind stepping up and -telling your wife the doctor has come?" - -"You ain't a doctor." - -"Come, my friend, don't contradict. I'm afraid we 'll have to take a look -into her room." - -"Oh, you will!" - -"Yes. We 'll walk around this floor a little first. Will you entertain -him a minute, Smiley?" - -Beveridge slipped away, leaving the two standing at the foot of the -stairs. He moved from room to room, carrying a lamp which he had found -in the front room and had lighted. Soon he returned, set down the lamp -where he had found it, and joined Smiley and the farmer. "So Estelle's -had her hair cut," he observed. - -Van Deelen shot a glance at him, but Beveridge went easily on. "Now -we 'll go upstairs, Dick." - -Van Deelen, gun in hand, retreated upward a few steps and barred the -way. Beveridge looked at him, then he stepped quickly up and seized the -gun by barrel and stock. The farmer could easily have shot him, but he -made no attempt. And now the two men silently wrestled there, Van -Deelen in the more advantageous position, but Beveridge showing greater -strength than his figure seemed to promise. Finally, with a quick -wrench, the special agent got possession of the weapon and passed it -down to Smiley. "Now, Mister van Deelen," he said, "will you please -stand aside?" - -For reply the farmer began retreating backward up the stairway, always -facing Beveridge, who followed closely. Dick drew the shells from the -gun, tossed it into the front room, and came after. The upper hall was -square, and of the three doors around it only one was closed. Beveridge -stepped into each of the open rooms, and then tried the door of the -third, while Van Deelen stood sullenly by. - -"Will you open this door?" Beveridge asked, with the beginnings of -impatience. - -No reply from the farmer. Smiley drew Beveridge aside and whispered, -"Maybe it's true that she's sick in there." - -"Not much." - -"But we haven't found her anywhere around the house." - -"If she _is_ there, she isn't alone." - -"But I kind of hate to break into a woman's room this way." - -"Don't get chicken-hearted, Dick." He turned to the farmer and asked -again, "Will you open this door?" - -There was no reply. - -Without another word Beveridge threw himself against it; but it was -stoutly built and did not yield. All three heard a gasp of fright from -within. - -"Hold on, Bill," Smiley exclaimed. "No use breaking your collar-bone. -I 'll get a rail." - -He said this with the idea of bullying either the farmer or the persons -within the room into opening the door, but Van Deelen remained sullen -and motionless. Beveridge, however, caught up the idea; and with a "Wait -here, Dick," he ran down the stairs. In entering the house they had -closed the door after them, and now Beveridge had to stop and fumble a -moment with the lock. - -But it was only a moment, and pulling it open he plunged out. - -A breathless man with his hat pulled down was starting up the steps. -Beveridge stopped short; so did the breathless man. For an instant they -stood motionless, one staring down from the top step, the other staring -up from the bottom. Then Beveridge saw, in the shadow of the hat-brim, -a black mustache; and at the same instant the owner of the mustache -recognized the figure above him. - -Not for worlds would Beveridge have called out. He had McGlory fairly in -his hands,--the moment he had been hoping for, almost praying for, -had come,--and he could never have resisted the desire to take him -singlehanded. McGlory was heavy, muscular, desperate--these were merely -additional reasons. Beveridge had known little but plodding work for -weeks and months--here was where the glory came in. And glory was -what he craved--a line in the papers, the envy of his associates, the -approbation of his superiors. - -And so, when he saw McGlory before him in the flesh, silently tugging -at something in his hip pocket, he not only sprang down on him as a -mountain lion might leap on its prey,--not only this, but he took pains, -even in this whirling moment, to make no noise in the take-off. McGlory -got the revolver out, but he was a fifth of a second too late. Just as -he swung it around, the special agent landed on him, caught his wrist, -gripped him around the neck with his other arm, and bore him down in the -sand of the dooryard. Neither made a sound, save for occasional grunting -and heavy breathing. They rolled over and over, Beveridge now on top, -now McGlory. McGlory was hard as steel; Beveridge was lithe and quick. -If McGlory gripped him so tight around the body that it seemed only -a question of seconds before his ribs must go, one after another, -Beveridge never slackened his hold of that bull-like neck. McGlory -struggled to turn the revolver toward Beveridge; but Beveridge held to -his wrist and bent it back--back--until any other man must have dropped -the weapon for the sheer pain of it. - -The door had swung to behind Beveridge as he went out; the horse was -thrashing in the barn; and Dick, leaning against the closed door of -Mrs. van Deelen's bedroom, looking at the farmer, heard nothing of the -struggle that was going on outside. He was wondering what interest -this farmer could have in a gang of smugglers. He decided to ask. This -business of standing opposite him and exchanging the glances of two -hostile dogs was not a pleasant experience for a man of Dick's sociable -humor. - -"I've been wondering, Van Deelen, what you're acting this way for." - -A suspicious glance was all this remark drew out. - -"I don't believe you're mixed up with that crew, and I don't see how -you can be interested in covering their tracks. Are you sure you aren't -taking the wrong tack?" - -"I ain't covering anybody's tracks. You don't know what you're talking -about." - -"Can't you see that we don't enjoy breaking into people's houses and -prying around in bedrooms?" - -"What do you do it for then?" - -"What do we do it for! Why, McGlory and his gang are Smugglers--they're -a bad lot. And this man with me is a government officer." - -"That ain't telling why you come _here_." - -"Now, Van Deelen, what's the use of keeping up that bluff? It doesn't -fool anybody. We know all about their coming here. We've tracked them -this far. This officer will never leave the house until he has opened -this door and seen who you've got in here. I can promise you he 'll act -like a gentleman. Now don't you think it would be a good deal better -just to open up and be done with it?" - -Having no reasonable answer to this, Van Deelen fell back into his -sullen silence. - -"Wonder what's taking him so long," Dick observed. "Would he have to go -far for a rail?" - -There was no answer. - -Altogether, it was not a cheerful situation. Dick, who had borne up -capitally so far, now experienced a sinking of spirits. He looked first -at the glum figure before him, then at the dingy walls and ceiling, then -down into the shadows of the stairway. Seeing nothing that could prop -his spirits, he fell to humming "Baby Mine." - -"Oh, I beg your pardon," he broke out, interrupting himself; "maybe I'm -disturbing your wife?" - -There was no answer. - -"You're a hilarious old bird," said Dick. - -No answer--nothing but that glum Dutch face. - -"Oh, well--go to thunder!" - -Not even a gleam of anger disturbed those Dutch eyes. Dick, his feeble -struggle over, succumbed to the gloom and was silent. And such silence -as it was! The horse, over in the barn, had ceased kicking about; the -air was still. The creakings of the old house sounded like the tread of -feet. The loud breathing of the person within the closed room could be -distinctly heard. - -There was a shot outside--then silence--two more shots--again the -silence. It is curious how a revolver shot, in the stillness of the -night, can be at once startling and insignificant. Curious, because it -is not very loud--no deafening report--no reverberation--but merely a -dead _thud_, as if the sound were smothered in a blanket. And yet it -was loud enough to raise goose-flesh all over Dick's body and send the -creepy feeling that we all know through the roots of his hair, as if a -thousand ants had suddenly sprung into being there. At the first report -he stiffened up; the second and third met his ears halfway down the -stairs. Van Deelen, frightened, bewildered, ran down close after him. - -Dick paused at the foot of the steps and looked around. In an instant -he made out the familiar figure of Beveridge a dozen yards away. The -special agent was standing over a prostrate man, one hand gripping a -revolver, the other fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief. The sweat -was glistening on his face, his collar and tie hung down his breast, his -coat was torn clear across the back. - -Dick joined him, and knelt over the man on the ground. - -"We've wasted time enough on him," said Beveridge, catching his breath. - -"Who--oh, it's McGlory! Is--is he--" - -"Shouldn't wonder. Help me get a rail, will you?" - -They started without further words toward the barn-yard fence. - -"Hold on," said Dick. "There's that cord-wood we used on the front -door." - -"That will do." - -So they went back and picked up the heavy stick. At this moment Harper -came running up, his shoe in his hand. "I didn't know you was going -to be in such a thundering hurry to begin the shooting, Mr. Beveridge. -I 'most cut my foot to pieces running up here." - -"Come along, Dick," said Beveridge. - -"Good Lord!" gasped Harper, suddenly taking in the figure of the special -agent. "What they been doing to you?" - -But Beveridge gave no heed to the question. "Stay here at the steps, -Harper, and if any more come up, don't let 'em get away from you." With -the cord-wood on his shoulder, he entered the house and started up the -stairs. But Van Deelen hurried after him and caught his arm. - -"Well, what do you want?" - -"You needn't use that." - -"You 'll let me in?" - -"Yes." - -Beveridge promptly set down his burden on the stairs, and stood aside to -let the farmer take the lead. - -Van Deelen tapped at the door, and softly, called, "Saskia!" - -"What is it?" - -"You have to open the door and let this gentleman in." - -"Mercy, no!" - -"But you have to!" - -"Then,--" the voice was very fluttery and agitated--"then wait a minute -after I unlock the door." - -The bolt was slipped, and they could hear a frantic rustling and -scampering. Van Deelen opened the door and entered the room with -Beveridge and Smiley at his heels. As they entered, another door, -evidently leading to a closet, was violently closed. - -The three men stood a moment in the middle of the room without speaking, -then Beveridge walked over to the bed. The woman lying there had turned -to the wall and drawn the coverlet over her face. Beveridge bent over -and jerked it back. "Smiley," he called, "come here and see if this -ain't your old friend, Estelle!" - -The woman struggled to hide her face again, but Beveridge rudely held -her quiet. Dick would have turned away but for the special agent's -impatience. As it was he made him speak twice. Then he went slowly and -shamefacedly to the bed. "Yes, I guess this is Estelle, all right." - -They saw her shudder. Her face was flushed with fever. Dick took -Beveridge's arm and whispered, "For heaven's sake, Bill, don't be a -beast." But Beveridge impatiently shook him off. - -"Well, Estelle," he said, "the game's up. We've got them." - -Her eyes were wild, but she managed to repeat. "You've got them?" - -"Yes. You 'll never see McGlory again." - -"And Pete--have you got Pete?" Beveridge glanced inquiringly at Smiley, -who, after a moment of puzzling, nodded, and with his lips formed the -name "Roche." - -"Yes, we've got Roche. Pretty lot they were to leave you here." - -But Estelle had fainted. - -"Here, Dick," said Beveridge, "bring some water." - -Van Deelen indicated the washstand, and Smiley fetched the pitcher. -Beveridge sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her forehead with the -cool water. He asked Van Deelen for some whiskey, and forced a little -between her teeth. Finally her eyes opened. - -"There," said Beveridge, "that's better. You 'll be all right in a -minute. Now tell me why they left you." - -"Look here, Bill," said Dick, "I can't stand this." - -Beveridge paid no attention, but went on stroking her forehead. "Tell me -why they left you, Estelle. They weren't very square with you." - -"It was Pete--" The whiskey had revived her a very little. - -"Yes, I know. You were mistaken in Pete. He never meant to stand by -you." - -"He said--" - -"Yes--go on." - -"He said we--we could get away--and--" - -"Yes?" - -"--and they were asleep and--and then we saw the house, and--oh, I can't -think--" - -"Bill,--for heaven's sake!" cried Dick. "Yes, it's all right, Estelle. -You're all safe now. Try to think." - -"I guess I fainted--Pete was gone--and I--I don't know--how I got to the -house--" - -"That will do. Go to sleep, Estelle. We 'll take good care of you." -Beveridge rose, and looked significantly toward the closet door. "Now, -Mister," he said, addressing the farmer, "we 'll just take a look in that -closet before we go, and--" - -A protesting voice, muffled by hanging garments, but shrill -nevertheless, came from the closet, and Beveridge smiled. "Is it your -wife?" he asked. Van Deelen nodded. And then, the smile lingering, -Beveridge led the way out of the room. - -As they started down the stairs, Dick observed: "You were awful quiet -down there with McGlory, Bill. I'd heard your second shot before I knew -anything was happening." - -"You never heard my second shot." - -"I didn't? I'd like to know why I didn't." - -"Because I only fired once." - -"Then who did the rest of it? By Jove! Where's Wilson?" - -Beveridge turned sharply at the question. "That's a fact," he muttered. -They had reached the front steps by this time, and could see Harper -ostentatiously standing guard with drawn revolver. "Say, Pink, have you -seen Bert anywhere?" - -"No. Thought he was inside with you." - -"Step around the house, quick. We 'll go this way." - -They found Wilson lying on the ground, not far from the front of the -house. He had plunged forward on his face, with his arms spread out -before him. Apparently he had been running around from the rear to join -Beveridge when the ball brought him down. In an instant the two men were -kneeling by him. - -"How is it, Bill? Can you tell?" - -"He isn't gone yet. Get a light, will you?" Dick ran back into the house -and brought out Van Deelen with a lamp and some improvised bandages. -Beveridge had some practical knowledge of first aid to the injured; and -the farmer seemed really to have some little skill, as a man must who -lives with his family twenty-five miles from a physician. And so between -them they managed to stanch the flow of blood while Dick and Pink were -carrying a small bed out of doors. With great care not to start the flow -again, they carried him into the front room. - -"Did you notice," said Beveridge to Smiley, when they had made him as -comfortable as they could, "where he was hit?" - -"In the back, wasn't it?" - -"Yes, and a little to the right. Now if he fell straight,--and I think -he did, because the way he went shows that he was running, and that he -simply pitched forward,--the shot must have come from near the bridge, -maybe from those trees a little down-stream from the bridge. Now there's -just one man could have done it, to my notion. He was an old hand, -because it was a pretty shot at the distance and in that _light_." - -"Who do you think?" - -"Well, now, there's Roche. He skipped out some time ago and left Estelle -in the woods. He wouldn't have done that unless he was badly scared, -would he? Isn't he a pretty poor lot, anyway--no nerve, just bluster?" - -"That's Pete. If he is fairly started running, he won't stop to-night." - -"That's about what I thought about him. It's pretty plain he would never -have come back here with McGlory after him--you see McGlory _had_ -come after him,--he was chasing Roche because he had run off with -Estelle--and made such a cool shot as that was. So we 'll rule out Roche. -And McGlory is ruled out too, and Estelle." - -"Oh--" - -"So that leaves just 'the boss'--Spencer." - -"That sounds reasonable." - -"He has nerve enough for anything, hasn't he?" - -"He looks as if he had." - -"Now I 'll tell you what we 'll do. We 'll get this Dutch woman to nurse -Bert here, and then the four of us will step down to the bridge and see -what we can make of it--or hold on; I 'll take Van Deelen and go to the -bridge, and you and Harper can go down to the creek below the barn and -work up to the bridge. What do you think of that?" - -"First-rate." - -"You aren't too fagged?" - -"Not me--not while the rest of you are on your pins." - -"That's the talk. I 'll see about the woman here." - -"Say, Bill, wait a minute. You aren't planning to walk right up to the -bridge, are you?" - -"Sure. Why not?" - -"If I was you, I'd work around through the trees a little. He may be -there yet, and we know how he can shoot." - -"What's the use? It's all a gamble anyhow. The thing to do is to go on -the run. A man is a good deal like a dog, you know. If you run right at -him and show all over you that you mean business, why, even if he thinks -he is ready for you, it's likely to bother him. Upsets his nerve--starts -him thinking he is on the losing side." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII--WHISKEY JIM - - -[Illustration: 0358] - -BEFORE the four men left the house Wilson revived and asked for his -chief. Beveridge, his torn coat thrown aside, hurried back and bent over -the bed. "What is it, Bert?" - -"That's what I was going to ask you. I don't remember--exactly--" - -"You were running around the house when somebody winged you. It doesn't -amount to anything--you 'll be around in a day or so." - -"Oh, yes--that's it. It was some fellow behind, wasn't it? I remember I -didn't see anybody ahead." - -"Yes--he was a little below the bridge, as I figure it." - -"Yes--yes--don't you see, Bill? That's where Harper was--he stayed -behind with some yarn about his shoe--had a stone in it." - -"Keep quiet, Bert! don't get worked up--" - -"But think of it, Bill! What you going to do now?" - -"I'm going to find the man that hit you." - -"Not with those two, Smiley and Harper?" - -"Why, certainly." - -"But don't you see, Bill? That's just what they want. They've got rid -of me--now they 'll draw you off into the woods--why, you're putting -yourself right in their hands!" - -"You'd better try to think of something else, Bert. Mrs. van Deelen here -is going to take good care of you. I 'll stop in on the way back." And -Beveridge slipped out the door without giving Wilson further opportunity -to protest. - -The others were waiting impatiently at the steps. Smiley and Harper at -once started off toward the creek below the barn; and Beveridge set out -on a run for the bridge, telling the farmer to follow. - -When he reached the creek, Beveridge searched through the trees for some -distance down-stream and then up-stream, but found no sign of a man. -"Well," he said, joining Van Deelen at the end of the bridge, "he got -away all right." - -"Did you look under the bridge?" - -"Yes. Nothing there." - -The farmer stood still for a moment, thinking; then he clambered down -the bank and peered into the shadow under the bridge floor. "Come -down here," he said. And when Beveridge had reached his side, standing -ankle-deep in the muddy water, he went on, "See that?" - -"No--wait a minute, I can't see anything yet. What is it?" - -"Feel this rope. It's been cut." - -"Oh," murmured Beveridge, "I see. A boat." - -"Yes. He has stolen my boat." - -"Of course--and slipped off down-stream as easy and quiet as you like. -He's a cool hand, that Spencer. Come back up here--we 'll go on down and -meet Smiley. Wait, though, he might be hiding anywhere down the stream -here. Are there many bushes and such along the bank?" - -"Yes, it's grown up pretty heavy. I never had any reason for keeping it -cleared." - -"Well, then, we 'll keep down here close to the water where we can see -things." - -"It 'll be pretty wet. Will you wait while I get my boots? My -rheumatism's been pretty bad this year--" - -"Go back, then. I can't wait for you." - -And with this, Beveridge pushed off down the stream. Van Deelen, after -a moment's hesitation, followed. They met the other party just above the -barn. - -"See anything?" asked Dick. - -"Yes. He has gone down in a boat." Beveridge turned to the farmer. "Does -the creek go on far in this direction?" - -"No, it turns off south pretty soon." - -"Would it take him anywhere especial?" - -"No--just into the woods." - -"No houses south of here?" - -"Not for a long way." - -"And it's sluggish like this all along, isn't it? Full of snags and -shallows?" - -"Oh, yes, he couldn't go very fast." - -"All right. Come on, boys." - -On they went, walking over the spongy ground below the bank or splashing -softly through the water. They did not speak, but followed their leader -eagerly through the moving shadows. The trees arched over their heads, -the water slipped moodily onward, blacker than the shadows. Now and then -they stumbled over projecting roots, or stepped down knee-deep in -some muddy hole; all the while their eyes strove to pierce the dark, -searching for a boat in the gloom of the opposite bank, or for a man -among the bushes above, even glancing overhead into the trees, where a -desperate man might have hidden. At length they reached an opening in -the trees of the right bank, and Beveridge, stepping up, found that the -road here paralleled the creek. - -"Which way now?" asked Dick. - -"No sign of a boat, is there?" - -"No." - -"Then keep on down-stream." - -They divided now in order to watch both banks, for the creek had widened -a little and the shadows were dense. It was Smiley and Harper who waded -across, stepping down waist-deep in the water and mud. Not a word was -spoken. The only sound was the low splash-splash of four pairs of feet, -with now and then the noise of heavy breathing or a muttered exclamation -as one or another stumbled into a hole. - -"Hello--ouch!" - -The voice was Pink Harper's. At this point the trees had shut in -overhead, and the dark was impenetrable. Beveridge and Van Deelen could -see nothing across the creek, not even the blot of denser black which -told Smiley, only a few feet behind, where his companion had stopped. - -"What is it?" came in a low voice from Beveridge. - -"Hit my shin. Hold on--feels like a boat. Guess you'd better come -across." - -Without a moment's hesitation the special agent turned to the left -and plunged into the stream. At this point it was deeper, and he found -himself submerged to the armpits. To save time he drew up his feet -and swam across until his knees struck bottom. And then the three of -them,--Van Deelen waited on the farther bank,--now dimly visible to each -other, stood side by side feeling of the boat. - -"You 'll have to come over here," said Beveridge to the farmer, "and tell -us if it's your boat." - -Van Deelen had no mind to swim. "Can't you strike a match?" he asked. - -"Strike your aunt!" growled Beveridge, wringing his wet clothes. - -"Well, say, that ain't necessary anyhow. My boat's the only one on the -creek." - -"Why didn't you say that before I swam over?" - -"Well, I--" - -"You want to watch out or you 'll be coming down with brain fever one of -these days. Come, boys, we 'll go back." - -"You think what he did was to take to the road back up there and set the -boat adrift?" asked Pink. - -"Of course." The words came from the deeper water, where the special -agent was already swimming back. A moment more and Dick and Pink were -after him. - -"Now, Mister van Deelen," said Beveridge, when they had gathered -together, "take us to the road." - -"It's right back up-stream. You know where it is as well as I do." - -"Can't we strike right over through the woods?" - -"Why, yes, you could do--" - -"All right, Dick. It 'll be lighter when we get up out of this hole." - -They floundered through a hundred yards of undergrowth and finally came -upon the open road. They were a dismal enough party. The water in their -shoes gurgled when they moved and spurted out at the lacings in little -streams. Other streams ran down their clothing to the road, where the -sand drank them up. Beveridge was without coat or collar, and the others -were nearly as dilapidated. The physical strain of the chase, and the -loss of sleep, not to speak of Beveridge's fight with McGlory, had worn -them down nearly to the point at which nature asserts her peremptory -claims,--but not one of them knew it. They did not know that they were -a desperate spectacle in the eyes of the bewildered farmer; even if they -could have stood in the light of day and looked full at one another, it -is to be doubted if any of the three would have observed the deep-lined, -white faces, the ringed eyes, of the other two. For the spirit of the -chase was in them. - -"Now, Mister Van," said Beveridge, almost gayly, "how far is it to the -next house?" - -"Why--why--" - -"Don't think too fast. A man died that way once." - -"There's an empty house about a mile from here." - -"All right, we 'll make for that. I want you, Van Deelen, to hitch up a -wagon and come on after us as quick as you can." - -The farmer turned at once and walked rapidly up the road. - -"Spencer hasn't much start of us," said Beveridge, as the three men -started in the opposite direction. - -"He couldn't have. It took him a good while to work down here in that -boat. We 'll get him if he keeps the road." - -"He 'll have to do that. If he took to the woods, he would be lost in an -hour--and that means starvation." - -Pink ventured a pleasantry, "Maybe he's got a compass," of which the -special agent took not the slightest notice; but said, turning to -Smiley, "How are your legs, Dick?" - -"Fine. Trim as they make them." - -"Feel up to a dog trot?" - -"Half a dollar even, I 'll beat you to the deserted house." - -"Hold on, don't get to sprinting. Save your wind. An easy jog will do -it." - -All three fell at once into an easy running gait, Smiley and Beveridge -side by side, Pink laboring along in the rear. - -Five minutes later Beveridge paused for breath. "We must have run nearly -a mile by this time, boys." - -"Easily." - -"Not so loud. Doesn't it look to you as if the road turned--up ahead -there?" - -It did look so; and as they went on toward the turning it grew plain -that they were approaching a clearing. - -"Wait, boys," whispered the special agent. "This ought to be the -place,--we don't want to move quite so carelessly now. Dick, you go -around to the left, and I 'll take the right; Pink, you give us two or -three minutes and then move in quietly toward the clearing. In that way -we shall all three close in together. Wait a few minutes now." - -The two men disappeared in the woods, one on each side of the road, and -Pink was left alone in the shadows. At first he could hear now and then -a low rustle as one or the other brushed through the bushes, but soon -these sounds died away. He was standing in the shadow at the roadside, -gazing with fixed eyes at the opening in the trees and stumps a hundred -yards farther along. He wondered if the three minutes were up. It was -too dark to use his watch. Waiting there under the stars, the minutes -spun out amazingly; all sense of the passage of time seemed to have left -him. He moved forward a few steps,--but no, it was too early; Dick and -Beveridge had surely not had time to get to their positions. Still, what -if he should wait too long, and not arrive in time to act in concert -with the others? - -Out on the Lakes, with a slanting deck underfoot and a dim shore-line -somewhere off in the night, Pink's soul would have thrilled in unison -with the stars, but here, buried in the gloom of the pine stumps,--those -straight, blackened poles that stood in endless monotony,--his soul was -overwhelmed. A panic seized him; he knew he would be late; and he -took to gliding along in the shadows, nearer and nearer, until, seeing -plainly that the road swung around to the right, and that the clearing -was overgrown with tall weeds and was surrounded by a stump fence, he -paused again. His feet sinking at each step in the sand, he made no -sound. - -He stood motionless. Over the weeds he made out the sagging roof of -a small building. Then, forgetting that his own figure was invisible -against the black of the forest, he dropped to the ground and, flat on -his face, wriggled forward. A row of sunflowers grew inside the fence. -At one point was a cluster of them, standing out high above the weeds. -Cautiously inch by inch he crept nearer. The bunched stalks, outlined so -distinctly against the sky, fascinated him by their resemblance to the -hat, head, and shoulders of a human being. - -Nearer--nearer--a moment more and he would be able to place his hand -against the fence. He was holding his breath now; afterward he could -never tell what was the slight noise he must have made. Or perhaps it -was the sense that tells one when a person has silently entered a -room that caused the figure--just as Pink, lying there on the sand and -looking up, had made sure that it _was_ a figure and not a clump of -sunflowers--to look around, up and down. Pink scrambled to his feet and -plunged recklessly forward. The man, who had been sitting on the fence, -quietly dropped down on the inner side. - -A stump fence is not easy to climb, and Pink was on the outer side, -where the tangled masses of roots spread out into a _cheveau-de-frise_ -which, in the dark, seemed insurmountable. When he had finally got to -the top, at the expense of a few scratches, a disturbance in the weeds -near the front of the house told him where the fugitive had taken -refuge. He promptly set up a shout. - -"Ho-o-ho!" came simultaneously from Smiley and Beveridge. - -"Here he is!" - -"Where?" - -"In the--" Pink was balancing on the fence. Before he could finish his -shout a revolver shot sounded from the house, and he went tumbling down -into the enclosure. - -"What's that! Are you hit?" - -"No--just lost my balance. Close in--he's in the house." He was getting -to his feet during this speech and feeling himself, not sure, in spite -of his statement, whether it was the noise or the bullet that had upset -him. But he could find no trace of a wound. - -"Keep your places!" Beveridge was calling to the others. "Keep your -places! Now then, Mr. Spencer, we have you cornered. You can have your -choice of giving up now or being starved out. Which will it be?" - -No answer from the house. - -"Speak up! I don't propose to waste much more time on you." - -This time the fugitive decided to reply; but his reply took the form of -a second shot, sent carefully toward the spot in the weeds from which -the voice seemed to be coming. - -"Hi!" shouted Pink, "did he get you?" - -"No. Shut up, will you?" - -The man with the revolver was plainly an old hand, for now he fired -a third time; and the shot came dangerously near, whether by luck or -otherwise, to shutting up the speaker for all time. Beveridge dropped -hastily behind a log that lay at his feet. Then, disgusted with himself, -he scrambled boldly up and stood on the log. - -Pink was obediently silent, 'though trembling with excitement. The -stillness of the forest fell suddenly in upon them. For a few moments -nothing was said or done. The man in the house had a momentary advantage -which all recognized. What light the sky gave was all upon the clearing, -and to move, however cautiously, through that tangle of weeds and bushes -without setting the tops to waving, was impossible. The building was so -small that the man could, with little effort, command all four sides. -And so Beveridge decided on a council of war with Smiley. At his first -movement another shot came cutting through the bushes; but he laughed -aloud, and went deliberately on in a quarter circle until he found -Smiley. "Well," he said softly and gleefully, "we've got him." - -"If we can keep awake as long as he can. What are you going to do now?" - -"Wait till dawn, and see how he stands it. No, don't look at me. Keep -your eyes on the house. He's too slippery to run chances with. It -oughtn't to be so very long now. How about you--can you keep up all -right?" - -"Me? Why, certainly." - -"All right, then. I 'll go around and take the boy's place, so he can -rest a bit. Keep a close watch. So long." - -"So long." - -The special agent went on around his circle, and found Pink near the -fence. "I 'll be here for a while, Harper. You'd better try to get some -sleep." - -"Me--sleep?" - -"Take your chance while you have it." - -"Moses and the bulrushers! You don't think I could sleep now?" - -"Just as you like." - -To the three watchers there seemed to be a breakdown somewhere on the -line that leads to dawn. The hours dragged until they stopped short. All -the real things of this world, cities and schooners and houses on stilts -and long reaches of blue water, had slipped back into the dim land of -dreams. Nothing was real but the brooding forest, the rank weeds with -their tale of desolation, the sand--sand--sand. Even Beveridge, sitting -on his log, gave way. At each sound from the forest,--a crackle or a -rustle,--he started like a nervous woman. Chilled by the night air and -his wet clothes, he shivered until his teeth rattled. - -A husky, plaintive voice rose into the night, singing. It came from -Harper's post near the stump fence. - - "A fu-nee-ral per-cession was a-passin' down a street - - That was lin'd with mansions stately, rich, and grand; - - A tiny girl was sobbin', her lit-tull heart most broke, - - A tear-stained hank-er-chuff was in her hand. - - A tall and stately gentlemun, touched by her sorry plight, - - For she was pale and ragged, thin and wan, - - He stopped and took her lit-tull hand, and gently bending o'er, - - 'Don't cry, my child, I 'll help you if I can.'" - - -All the horrors of the night and the forest were gathered up into that -wailing voice. Beveridge shuddered. But Pink was warming up to it now, -sharing his misery with the night. If the verse had been doleful, the -refrain was worse:-- - - "'Mother's in the coffun, sir, - - Mother's left her home; - - The ainjulls come and took her up on high. - - But if I'm good and kindly, sir, - - And never off do roam, - - I 'll meet her in the sweet by-and-by.'" - - -Beveridge rose uncertainly to his feet. The song went on:-- - - - "'Tell me your name, my lit-tull child,' the gentlemun did - - say, - - And when the words she lisping did repeat, - - He staggered back in horror with remorse wrote on his face, - - And--" - - -At this point Beveridge began moving through the weeds. Pink sang on; -and he was just breaking out into the refrain,-- - - Mother's in her coffan, sir, - - Mother's left her home; - - The ainjulls come and took her up--'" - - -when he heard a sound, started, looked up, saw a dark figure bending -over him, and stopped singing with a gasp. - -"That 'll do for you," said the dark figure. - -"Oh, it's you!" exclaimed Pink, with relief. "That 'll do for you. -Understand?" - -Pink was silent. Beveridge slipped silently back to his log. - -Night has a way of giving place to day, even such interminable nights -as this. Neither hastening nor resting, with no heed for the miserable -little company that surrounded the deserted house in the wilderness, the -hours stepped silently on into eternity. The darkness slowly changed to -blackness; then the east brightened, the sky paled, the new day tossed -its first flaming spears, and the shivering dawn was upon them. - -Beveridge got up very slowly,--for a new kind of pain was shooting -through his joints,--stretched, and, walking bent, like an old man, -cautiously made his way to Smiley's post. The sailor was awake; but -whether he had been awake all night could hardly be, decided from his -face. Beveridge had his suspicions, but decided not to air them. - -"Look here, Dick," he began. - -"All right. Go ahead." - -"How are your joints?" - -"Never worse. How about yours?" - -"Same way. I don't know how you feel, but I've had enough." - -"Can't help that, can we?" - -"I can help it, and I'm going to." - -"I'd like to know how." - -"Keep your eyes open and you 'll see. I want you to stay here under -cover." - -"You aren't going to storm the house?" - -"Yes, sir, that's just what I'm going to do." - -"Have you thought it over? He 'll shoot you know." - -"There are two ways of leaving this world, Dick, that I know of. One way -is to catch your death of rheumatism and go off slow; the other is to -let a man who can handle a revolver make a neat, clean job of it. I -don't know how you feel about it, but I prefer the neat way. Now you -wait here while I--" - -"Hold on, Bill. Here we have him nicely penned and our plan of siege -all settled, when you up and change your tactics. I don't see the use of -putting yourself up for a target when we have him sure the other way." - -"That's all right, Dick." - -"Here's another thing. Wilson's out of the running--suppose he puts you -out too. What are Pink and I going to do? We have no authority to arrest -the man. I'm not even sure that it would be to our interest to try it in -such a case. Why not wait--just settle down to it. We can get something -to eat from Van Deelen. Say, didn't you tell him to follow us with the -wagon last night?" - -Beveridge indulged in a dry smile. "Yes, I did. But I didn't more than -half think he'd do it. You do as I tell you, Dick, and--" - -"Well, if your mind's made up, I suppose--" - -Beveridge's mind was made up. He set out without further words, and -Dick watched him, uncertain of his movements, until he saw that he was -circling around in the direction of the stump fence and Pink. Dick's -thoughts were unsettled. Such actions were foolhardy, now that it was -nearly broad daylight. It would have been no trick at all to put a few -balls into the body below the waving weeds that marked the progress of -the special agent. For some reason, however, the shots did not come. - -Between Dick and the house there was a comparatively open space. By -stepping forward a few yards he would emerge into full view of the man -in the house, whereas on Pink's side the growth was rank, and Beveridge, -if he should go directly to the house after giving Pink his directions, -would not be visible until he should have nearly reached the door. But -the telltale weeds!--there was something in the thought of Beveridge -being shot down like a porcupine as he floundered through the tangle -that made Dick shudder. - -It would be better to walk straight out into the open and be done with -it. - -Peering from his hiding-place, he could see that all was quiet. -Beveridge had reached Pink, and was probably talking with him. But -he could not hear their voices--the clearing was absolutely still. He -watched--and watched--his eyes fixed on the spot where Beveridge had -stopped. Perhaps his arguments had taken effect; perhaps the plan had -been changed. But no, the weeds were moving again. - -Dick's blood was up. He drew his revolver and plunged straight out into -the open toward the house. - -"Here you in there!" he shouted. "Come out or fight! Do you hear -me? Come out or fight! We've got you on all sides--you can't hit us -all--come out and be done with it." - -The house was still. Beveridge heard Dick's voice, and knew what he -was doing. He tried to run forward, tripped, and fell headlong in the -briers, cursing like a buccaneer. Pink heard both the voice and the -tumble, and at the instant he too was fighting madly forward through -the weeds. Could he be expected to obey orders? To sit and twiddle his -thumbs while Dick was fighting? Not a sound came from the house. - -Dick walked deliberately to the door and hammered with the muzzle of his -revolver. - -"Come out," he called, "or I 'll smash it in." He heard the man stir. - -"Come out, or by----!" - -The man was walking slowly across the floor. Dick went on shouting:-- - -"No tricks, now! Open your door! I've got a gun on you--I've got a gun -on you!" The rusty old key turned and the door swung back. As it opened, -Beveridge broke out of the weeds, with Pink close after, and the three -men stood bewildered, motionless, staring at the square-built figure and -quiet face of--Henry Smiley. - -They could not speak. Even Beveridge had lowered his weapon. - -"Put up your guns, boys," said Henry, with a sort of smile. "Put up your -guns; I 'll go back with you." - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--HARBOR LIGHTS - - -[Illustration: 0386] - -BEVERIDGE recovered first, and said in a businesslike way, "You 'll have -to give me your weapons." - -Henry at once handed over two large-caliber revolvers, and emptied his -pockets of fully half a hundred cartridges. "It's a lucky thing for -you, Mister Beveridge," he said, "that Dick came out just when he did. A -minute more and I should have finished you." - -But Beveridge's thoughts were not heading in the same direction. His -reply was, "Where's Spencer?" - -"Spencer? You didn't get him?" - -"No." - -"Then he's in Canada." - -"Oh, I see." Beveridge turned to Smiley. "Well, Dick, for a man that got -things exactly wrong, you came nearer to being right than I should have -thought possible." - -As they walked back toward Van Deelen's, Henry fell in with his cousin. -"You don't seem very talkative, Dick. Guess I must have surprised you." - -But Dick could not find his voice to reply. - -"And you surprised me too, rather. How did you happen to be up here with -this man?" - -"Then you don't know that he's holding me for Whiskey Jim?" cried Dick. - -"No--is he?" - -Dick, overcome with fatigue and emotion, nodded. Henry stopped and -turned to the special agent, who was walking close behind. - -"You didn't think Dick here was in this business, did you?" - -"We 'll discuss that later. Move along, please." - -"But this won't do, Beveridge. Dick has nothing to do with it, nothing -whatever." - -"I suppose he didn't know where his schooner went and what he carried -aboard her, eh?" - -"Oh, I can explain all that. He's all right. I'm the man you want." - -"I 'll talk with you again, Mr. Smiley. We can't stop now." - -They found Wilson in a bad way. Mrs. van Deelen had been doing her -utmost during the night for her two patients, but to attempt moving -either was out of the question. Beveridge left some money to cover -the expense of caring for his subordinate, and Henry good-naturedly -contributed toward the care of Estelle. It was arranged that Van Deelen -should drive Beveridge and his party back to Spencer's, stopping on the -way to send Lindquist or his boy to Hewittson for a doctor. Nothing more -could be done here, and so they hurried Van Deelen into hitching up at -once. Beveridge could not sleep in comfort until his prisoner should be -safe under guard on the revenue cutter. - -"There's one thing," said the special agent to Henry Smiley, as the four -haggard men climbed into the wagon that was to take them on the long -drive through the forest, "there's one thing I don't understand. Why -didn't you fellows pick up a horse at one of these places and drive, -instead of footing it,--with a woman along, too?" - -"We did start in Spencer's wagon, but it broke down before we'd gone ten -miles, the road was so bad." - -"But we didn't see it," said Pink. - -"We must have passed it on the first stretch before we found the road." - -"And then," said Henry, "I thought we'd better stick it out on foot. You -see, I didn't believe it would occur to you that we would take to the -woods. And even if it should, I thought we should have plenty of time -before you started after us. I misjudged it there, you see. I was -thinking hardest about the other end of it--about what we should do -when we got down into Indiana, with maybe your men on the lookout for us -everywhere. And then a horse is a give-away--you can't hide it. And the -road is so heavy with sand that it's 'most as quick to walk. I thought it -all over and decided it that way. So we dragged the wagon off into the -bushes, and led the horse off and shot him. But why didn't you ride?" - -"We didn't get a chance until we reached Lindquist's. And then we were -so close on your trail--and I knew you were on foot--that I decided the -same way. If we had been rattling along in a wagon, you might have heard -us quarter of a mile ahead, and all you would have had to do then would -be to step into the bushes and let us go by." - -At a few minutes before noon the party alighted from the wagon at -Spencer's wharf, where the _Merry Anne_ still lay, waved a signal to the -launch, and were carried out past False Middle Island to the _Foote_. - -"I guess there isn't much doubt what we 'll do next," said Beveridge, -with a yawn, as the launch drew near to the companion-ladder, which had -been let down forward of the paddle-wheel. - -"I guess there ain't," Pink replied with another yawn. - -"One thing, Dick," said Beveridge, "before we go away from here,--it -isn't right to leave your schooner in there for the porcupines to chew -to pieces." - -Dick, who had been studying the bottom of the boat, looked up quickly -and with a peculiar expression. After Henry's confession, would he be -allowed to sail her back himself? Beveridge caught the look, and for an -instant his face showed the faintest trace of confusion. "You see," he -went on, "I've been thinking it over on the way back from Van Deelen's. -It's rather an irregular thing to do, but I'm willing, if Captain -Sullivan will let us have a few men, to turn the schooner over to Harper -here. He's competent to handle her, isn't he?" - -"Oh, yes," Dick replied in a dry voice, "he is competent enough." - -Pink's eyes brightened. "Sure thing," he said, "I can run her easy." - -Dick glanced at Pink, then dropped his eyes again. The boy had heard -only the words; he had not caught the thoughts that were passing between -his captain and the special agent. To Dick this decision, coming in the -lull after the excitement, coming after what seemed to him proof of his -innocence, sounded like the judge's sentence. Through the hour or two -that followed, during the dinner on the steamer, after the launch had -gone back into the harbor with Pink and his crew, even when the old -side-wheeler had raised her anchor and started on her lumbering way -around through the Straits and up Lake Michigan to Chicago, Dick, -lying dressed in his berth, was trying to puzzle out the meaning of -Beveridge's words and of the momentary confusion that had accompanied -them. And it did not raise his spirits that, after each struggle with -the problem, his thoughts were directed to Annie. Perhaps Beveridge -himself, if he had laid his thoughts bare, could not have helped him -much. For it was not reasoning that had shown him the tactical folly -of allowing Dick to come sailing gloriously in to Annie's very front -door,--red shirt, neckerchief, and all the appurtenances of a hero; it -was the instinct that made it impossible for him to resist holding every -advantage that came to his hand. Beveridge had done a big thing. He -had run down--killed or captured or driven out of the country--several -members of the most skilful gang in the history of smuggling on the -Great Lakes. He had done it alone. He was even beginning to put down his -surprise over the capture of Henry Smiley, and to feel that Henry was -the one man he had been after from the first. Yes, he had made his -success--the thing left was to win Annie. And to do this he must not -only see her before Dick could see her; he must also arrange that Dick's -appearance on the scene, when all the delays had been exhausted, should -be an inglorious one. Some of his finest work was yet to come. In -thinking it over, lying in his berth in the room next to Dick's, their -heads not two feet apart, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips. And -never had the _Foote_ seen such sleeping as followed. When all three -men, accusers and accused, had slept through the afternoon and on -through the night, when they failed to hear even the breakfast gong, -Captain Sullivan began to wonder if they meant to wake at all. - -Afterward, for a day or two, all three, Beveridge, Dick, and Henry, were -very quiet. They sat yawning in deck chairs, or dozed in their berths. -But during this time, thanks to the sunny skies and the peaceful lake, -and thanks to Beveridge's elation and good-nature, to Henry's surprising -cheerfulness, and to the difficulty Dick found in showing the depth -of his feelings, the relations of the three were growing more and more -pleasant. By common consent they avoided discussing the chase or its -cause. - -On the afternoon of the last day out, Dick and Beveridge sat smoking on -the after deck. The _Foote_ was rumbling slowly down the coast somewhere -below Milwaukee, and should make Chicago before midnight if nothing -broke in the engine room. They were discussing the Michigan peach crop -when Henry drew up a chair and joined them. - -"Would you mind telling me," said Henry to Beveridge, filling his pipe -as he spoke, "what you are going to do with Dick, here?" So Henry was -the one to open the subject. Dick's lips drew together and his hand -trembled, but his eyes were steady. - -Beveridge was evasive. "What am I going to do with him?" he repeated. - -"Yes. You will have a good deal of say about that, won't you?" - -"Why--yes, and no." - -"Now that you know he had nothing to do with it, you 'll be able to get -him right off, won't you?" - -"Why--yes, so far as I know. I should expect it to turn out that way." - -Henry saw that a definite answer was not to be expected, so he puffed -a moment, looking off to the green shore-line. Finally he said, "Your -man,--what's his name?" - -"Wilson?" - -"Yes, he's in pretty bad shape, isn't he?" - -"There's no doubt about that." - -"Do you think he 'll pull through?" - -"I couldn't say." - -"What would be the penalty if he didn't?" - -"That is for a judge and jury to decide." - -"I suppose." - -Henry paused again. Dick was gazing out at the water with fixed eyes. -This cool talk made him shudder. - -"I've been thinking this over," Henry went on. "Of course, you caught -me red handed; and that, along with what I'm going to tell you, any time -when you're ready, gives you a pretty clear case against me. My outlook -isn't what you would call cheerful. I've never made a will, but I -guess now is about as good a time as any to get about it. I've got my -schooner, and I've got a little money put away,--some of it drawing -interest and some in the bank,--and what there is of it is to go to -Dick. He's the nearest approach to a relation I have, you know. And if I -were you, Dick, I should take some of it the first thing and pay up for -the _Anne_. That 'll make you more or less independent. Do you fellows -mind coming down into the cabin and fixing it up now?" - -"Certainly not," said Beveridge, rising. - -Dick found it difficult to reply, but he followed them below, and sat -with them at the dining-table. Beveridge got pen, ink, and paper. - -"Now, I 'll tell you," said Henry. "I 'll just make out sort of a schedule -of what I'm worth. It won't take long. I know just what it is. There, -now, I guess it 'll be enough to say that I devise and bequeath it all, -without any conditions or exceptions, to Dick, he to take everything of -mine for his own, to hold and to use in any way that he may choose. Will -you witness this, Beveridge?" - -"Certainly." - -"We ought to have some others." - -"I 'll get them." Beveridge stepped out, and returned shortly with -Captain Sullivan and his second officer. These put their signatures -under that of the special agent and with the exchange of only a word -or two returned to their posts. Nothing could have been more -matter-of-fact, could have savored more strongly of humdrum, everyday -life. - -The three men sat there looking at the paper. Finally Henry, with a -smile, blotted it, folded it, and handed it to his cousin. "I'm going -to hand this over to you, Dick," he said. "That's the easiest way of -disposing of it." - -Dick accepted it and turned it slowly over and over in his hands. "I--of -course, Henry--I appreciate this, but--" and then his face surged with -color, and he broke out in a round voice: "What's the use of talking of -this sort of thing now! Wilson isn't gone yet. I don't believe he will -go either. You make my blood run cold! You'd better just--" - -"No," Henry interrupted. "No, I'd rather leave it like this." - -"But, look here, Henry,--why, great guns! You aren't even convicted of -illicit distilling yet, let alone--why, even if you should be, don't you -see, you might lose a few years, but--" - -"Oh, there wouldn't be any doubt about the conviction, Dick. The game is -up, so far as I am concerned. Supposing I should escape, what good would -it do me? I should be a fugitive. I should have to leave the country, -and go to a new place and begin all over again, just as I began here on -the Lakes twenty odd years ago. I have amounted to something here,--I -have held first place. I have kept these fellows,"--he indicated -Beveridge, with a slight upward turn at the corners of his mouth--"I -have kept these fellows guessing from the start. Anywhere else I should -be nobody, and at my age that doesn't appeal very strongly to a man. -Supposing, even, I could buy an acquittal and stay right on here, would -it be any better? You see, my boy, I have been ambitious in a way. I -have built up a machine--a new kind of a machine. If I could have been -let alone a year or so longer, I should have had everything running as -smooth and safe as the Republican County Committee. That was the one -thing I set out to do. But it's busted now. With these fellows once on -to the whole thing, it could never be carried on again. Oh, in a cheap, -shyster way, maybe; but that's not my way. It was my work and now it's -over. And when a man has come as near success as I have, and spent -the best part of his life working up toward it, he doesn't care about -beginning at the little end of something else. His mainspring is -broken." - -They were silent. Henry was easily the most self-possessed of the three. -Finally Beveridge said:-- - -"You have spoken once or twice, Mr. Smiley, about telling us how you -worked this business." - -"Yes, certainly, any time,--now, if you like." - -"You won't mind if I take down the main points and then ask you to put -your name to it?" - -"Not at all. I supposed of course you would want to do that." - -This cold-blooded courtesy brought Dick near to shuddering again. But he -straightened up in his chair and prepared to listen. - -"You say you are the man known as Whiskey Jim?" - -"Yes. That is the name the papers have given to the whole organization, -and the organization, of course, is me." - -"Would you mind talking rather slowly? I know shorthand, but I'm -decidedly out of practice at it." - -"Certainly not. Suppose I explain the organization in a few words." - -"That 'll do first-rate." - -"If I forget and get to going too fast, just stop me. You see, as master -of the _Schmidt_, doing a tramp lumber business all around Lake Michigan -and Lake Huron, I was able to run the whole thing at both ends and still -keep about my business. I didn't have to use the mails--I didn't have -to do a thing that didn't look as solemn and proper as the Methodist -minister and his parish calls." - -"I see. It was ingenious--no doubt about it." - -"To be on the safe side, I located my stills over in Canada." - -"I know,--at Burnt Cove." - -"Yes; it was about as inaccessible there as any place on the Lakes. And -as we didn't try to sell the stuff over there, but shipped it all across -to the States, we were really safe enough. I don't know what either -country could have done about it, so far as the stills are concerned." - -"Suppose I take it up here, Mr. Smiley, do you mind?" - -"No, go ahead." - -"Well, when you had got it put up and ready to ship, you brought it -across Lake Huron in Spencer's schooner." - -"Yes--yes." - -"And at Spencer's it was repacked in the timber." - -Henry smiled a little at this. "Some of it was. Of course you know -better than to think that what I could bring down in a load of timber -once in a month, or two, or three, was my only way of getting the goods -to market." - -"Oh, yes, of course." - -"I have done things on a fairly large scale, you know. But you are right -in the main. Spencer's was the distributing point for all our goods. -The old man himself was what you might call the shipping clerk of the -organization. But we 'll go ahead with the timber scheme. That one line, -if you follow it up, will be enough to base your case on, won't it?" - -"Yes, for the present. Though you were concerned in the attempt to run a -pipe line under the Detroit River." - -"No, not very deep. I put a little money into it, but when I saw who was -running it, I got out. I knew they would get nipped sooner or later. -They went at it wrong." - -"Well, you brought your loaded timbers to the pier at Lakeville. From -there they were hauled by wagons to Captain Stenzenberger's yards. -Stenzenberger, working through Mc-Glory, distributed the stuff in -Chicago." Henry shook his head with a touch of impatience. "You're -getting off the track there. Stenzenberger had nothing to do with it. I -fooled him through some of his men." - -Beveridge looked incredulous. "So that's the way you want it to go down, -is it?" - -"That's the way it was." - -"Excuse me, Smiley, but that's absurd. I already have a case against -Stenzenberger. Even if I hadn't, it would outrage common-sense to state -that this man, a lumber merchant, could handle quantities of hollow -timbers, could have them right there under his nose all this time, -without knowing it." But Henry was stubborn. - -"Very well," added Beveridge, "this is your statement. I will take down -just what you choose to say." - -"You've got about enough there, I should imagine. Oh, about Wilson! I -was in the bushes just below the bridge, when he started to run around -the house, and I shot him. There, now, with the confession of the -smuggling and the shooting, you ought to have a case. Copy it out, -put it in the right legal shape, and I 'll sign it. All but the -Stenzen-berger part. I admit nothing about him." - -"All right. I 'll put it down as you want. It makes no difference to me, -for you can never save him." - -"One thing, Henry," said Dick, "that I don't understand. What was -McGlory after when he ran the _Anne_ up to Burnt Cove that time?" - -"McGlory," Henry replied, "was a fool. When you first told me about it, -I didn't know what to think myself, but after thinking it over, and from -the way he has talked since when he was a little drunk, I think I -have made it out. He has been planning for some time to skip with this -Estelle--desert his wife. He arranged it with her that time he came up -with you. And as what ready money he had was down in Chicago, where he -couldn't very well get at it without his wife knowing it, he took the -chance of getting to Burnt Cove while you were sleeping off--" Henry -smiled. "I guess old Spencer served you some pretty strong fluids up -there that day. Well, anyway, McGlory thought he could take quite a lot -of the stuff aboard, sell it through one of our regular trade channels, -and get off with the money without going home. He couldn't get it into -his head that you really knew nothing about the business. It was a crazy -thing to do." - -"I should think so." - -"McGlory and Roche are pretty good examples of the sort of thing I have -had to contend with. I've never been able to get good reliable men to -work for me." - -Beveridge wanted to smile over the incongruity in this speech, but he -controlled himself and listened soberly. Henry went on:-- - -"If I could have handled it alone, or with only Spencer to help, you -would never have got me. But with such a big business, I had to employ -a good many men. That was my weak spot. I've known it all along and -dreaded it, but I had to run the risk. There's a risk in every business, -and that was the risk in mine. No, sir, if I could have had competent -men, I should be laughing to-day at the whole revenue system." - -"I should take exception to that, Smiley," said Beveridge. "Your men -weren't the only thing that gave you away, not by any means." - -"Oh, weren't they?" - -"No, the most important clew was the label you used. But say, Smiley, -here is what puzzles me. Why is it that you, a man of unusual ability, -haven't put in your time at something respectable? The brains and work -you have wasted on smuggling would have made you a comfortable fortune -in some other line." - -"What do you mean by 'respectable,' Beveridge,--politics, trading, -preaching?" - -"I guess you recognize the distinction." - -"On the contrary, I don't recognize it at all. I asked for information." - -"Oh, well, there is no use opening up that question. We all know the -difference between right and wrong, honesty and dishonesty." - -"Do we? Do you?" - -"I have always supposed I did." - -"You're an unusual man. I congratulate you." - -"See here, Smiley, this is interesting. You don't mean to say that you -consider smuggling an honorable business?" - -"Why not?" - -"Why not! Why--why--" - -"It might clear your ideas, Beveridge, to go into this question a -little. Smuggling means, I suppose, the bringing of merchandise from, -say, Canada to this country." - -"Dutiable merchandise, yes." - -"What makes it dutiable?" - -"The law." - -"What makes the law?" - -"The law is made by the people." - -"What people?" - -"Oh, see here, Smiley, this--" - -"No, wait a minute. The trouble with you is you don't do your own -thinking; I 'll do a little for you. Take an imaginary case: There is -a little group of men in this country who manufacture, say, tacks. As -every man should, they are looking out for their own interests. They are -out to make money. The tacks mean nothing to them, except as they can be -turned into money. That is right and proper, isn't it?" - -"Certainly." - -"Now suppose, among them all, they employ a good many thousand men in -their tack factories, all of them voters. Suppose they're rich, and -ready to contribute a neat little sum to the campaign fund. Now then, -if any other group of men start up, just over the Canadian line, where -labor is cheaper, making tacks, and underselling our tack market, the -natural thing for our tack men to do is to go to their representatives -in Congress and say, 'Here, if you want our votes and our money, you -must pass a law putting a duty on tacks.' Why do they say this? Because -with such a law they can make more money. The people aren't helped -by it, mind you; the people have to pay all the more. The only men to -profit by it are the little group of tack manufacturers who want to get -rich and fat at the expense of this public you talk about. Now do the -Congressmen fall into line and pass the law? Certainly. Why? -Because _they_ are helped by it. They get the votes and the money -contributions--and probably a neat bribe besides. All this while, mind -you, the people are out of the game. They are being robbed by a law that -was made entirely to enrich a little group of men. These bribe givers -and takers put up a job on us, the most dishonest kind of a job, and yet -you seem to think I'm dishonest, too, because I follow their example and -look out for number one." - -"Hold on, Smiley, there's a fallacy there--" - -"Where? Point it out. I'm doing an honest business. The stuff I sell is -well made. Do you suppose I care what your government people think? Why, -the whole government system is a network of bribes and rake-offs and -private snaps." - -"Of course, if you're an anarchist--" - -"Look here, Beveridge, this talk seems to be rather personal--suppose we -make it more so. Let's see if we can't find out what your motives are in -this business. Are they Christian, or patriotic, or are you, like myself -and the tack men, and the law-makers, looking out for number one? The -man that was out here before you came I bought off. But it didn't -take me long to see that you couldn't be bought. Now why? That's the -question. - -"Was it because you have principles against it? Not at all. Don't get -mad. I don't doubt a minute that you have some principles that you -learned in Sunday-school; but Lord, when a man's grown up and has his -living to fight for, do you think the Sunday-school has any chance. So, -you see, I thought it over, and reasoned it out about like this: You and -the other man were both ambitious, but where he wanted money, you -want position. It's to your interest to keep the confidence of your -superiors. That's why I couldn't buy you; it's all right, you've done -a good job, but don't try to persuade yourself that your integrity -is armor plate, that you've been doing right for the good of the -Sunday-school or from patriotic motives. Just because you happen to be -on the winning side, because your gang happens to be on top, don't -make the mistake of thinking you're better than the rest of us. For you -aren't." - -Dick saw that Beveridge's tongue was trembling with a keen retort, and -he broke in, "But you haven't told how I was worked into this, Henry." - -"Oh, that's simple. I wanted to boost you along in the world, but you -were young and had notions. So I thought if I could once make you bring -down a load of the stuff without knowing it, you would find yourself in -for it, and then I could make you see things in the right proportions. -I wanted you, bad. With one such man as you, I could have fooled them -forever." He paused and added meditatively: "And I would have made you -a rich man, Dick. But just when I had it arranged, you came and told me -that you had gone daffy over Cap'n Fargo's little girl, and I saw I had -as good as lost you. Yes, sir, I could have made your fortune. Well, -anyhow, you 'll get something out of it, after--" - -Beveridge rose to go to his room, gathering up the papers. "I'm going to -write this out now, boys. I 'll see you later." - -Late in the evening the statement was ready. Henry read it through, -suggested a few emendations, and signed it. Then the three went on deck. - -Far down on the southwestern horizon was a row of twinkling lights. -Above them, in the sky, was spread a warm glow. - -"We're getting along," said Henry. "There's Chicago." - -"Oh, is it?" exclaimed Beveridge with interest. - -"Yes. We 'll soon be in. Isn't it about time to put the handcuffs on me?" - -Beveridge smiled. "That will hardly be necessary." - -"But Chicago's a bad town. I might get away from you." - -"We won't worry about that." - -"Do you carry the things on you? I never saw any." - -Beveridge drew a pair from his hip pocket, and handed them to Henry. - -"How do they work?" - -"Easily. Slip them on--this way." - -There was a click and Henry's hands were chained together. - -"That's easy enough, isn't it?" said he, walking a few steps up and down -the deck, surveying himself. Then he went to the rail and leaned on it, -looking silently off toward the lights. - -Just what came next, Dick never could remember. He had turned away to -gaze at the alternating red-and-white lights that marked Grosse Pointe -and home, so that he saw little more than Henry's swift movement and -Beveridge's start. An instant more and he was standing at the rail -with Beveridge, in the place where Henry had been standing a moment -before--gazing down at the foam that fell away from the bows. He heard -the special agent sing out: "Stop her, stop her, Cap'n! Man overboard!" -He was conscious that the engines had stopped; and he heard the -Captain's voice from the bridge: "No use! He went under the wheel!" Then -came the order to lower a boat, and the rush of feet across the deck. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--IN WHICH BEVERIDGE SURPRISES HIMSELF - - -[Illustration: 0416] - -DICK and Beveridge stood on the wharf at Chicago. The lights that -wavered over their faces from the lanterns of the Foote and from the arc -lamp overhead showed them sober, silent. The _camaraderie_ of the chase -and of the voyage that followed had ceased to be. Beveridge's elation -had been subdued by the distressing event of the evening, but still -the mind behind his decorously quiet face was teeming with plans and -schemes. Dick was gloomy, bewildered. Both seemed to be waiting for -something. They stood watching the bustle aboard the revenue cutter as -the crew made her snug for the night, until finally Dick spoke:-- - -"You haven't told me yet what I'm to do next, Bill." - -"What you're to do next?" - -"Why--yes. You see--" - -"Go on. I'm listening." - -But Dick found it hard to go on. "I didn't know but what--" - -Beveridge turned abruptly at a noise up the street, placed two fingers -in his mouth, and whistled. And after a moment Dick saw what had kept -him waiting. It was no sense of delicacy. Beveridge had been looking for -a carriage. "Get in, Smiley," he said, when the driver pulled up. - -"Get in?" - -"Yes--after you." - -"You mean, then--" - -"Well, what?" - -"I didn't suppose after what has happened that you'd need me any -longer." - -"Not need you, Smiley?" They were seated within the vehicle now, the -door was shut, and the driver, the special agent's whispered word in -his ear, was whipping up his horses. "I'm afraid you don't understand. I -have no authority to let you off." - -It was his manner more than his words that suddenly swept away Dick's -delicacy and aroused his anger. "The hell you haven't!" was his reply. - -"Certainly not." - -"You don't expect me to believe that. You have no case against me now." - -"I grant you that. And I can promise you that you won't be detained more -than a few days at the outside. But this business has passed up out of -my hands now. All I can do is to deliver you up, make my report, and set -the machinery in motion for your release." - -Dick sat motionless, gazing into the shadows before him. "What right had -you to let Pink go, then?" - -"That was different." - -"How?--How?" - -"Nobody ever looked on Harper as of any importance in the business." - -"That is no answer. You're holding me on a technicality. The importance -of the man makes no difference when you are dealing in red tape." - -"See here, Smiley, don't you think you had better stop abusing me, and -take a sensible view of it?" - -As he spoke, they were crossing State Street, and the brighter light -illuminated the interior of the carriage. For reply, Dick turned and -looked at his custodian, looked him through and through with a gaze of -profound contempt. Words were not necessary; Beveridge saw that Dick -had fathomed his motives, Dick saw that he was understood. At the moment -neither was thinking of the gloomy city that was closing in around -them; for both saw the wide, free beach, the gleaming lake, the two long -piers, the quaint little house on stilts, the upper balcony with its -burden of forget-me-nots and geraniums and all the blossoms that Annie -loved. And both had in their nostrils the refreshing smell of the east -wind--made up of all the faint mingled odors of Lake Michigan--a little -pine in it, a little fish in it, but, more than all, the health and -strength and wholesome sweetness of the Lakes. And both were silent -while the carriage rattled along, while they stepped out, crossed the -walk, and entered a stone building with barred windows, while, with -Beveridge on one side and a guard on the other, Dick walked to his cell. - -Beveridge caught the half-past eight train for Lakeville the next -morning, and walked straight down to the house on stilts. Annie was out -on the lake, her mother said, looking at him, while she said it, and -after, with doubtful, questioning eyes. So he sat down on the steps and -looked out over the beach and the water. It was a fine warm day, with -just breeze enough to ripple, the lake from shore to horizon, and set it -sparkling in the sun. The sky was blue and white; and the cloud shadows -here and there on the water took varied and varying colors--deep blue, -yellow, sea-green. The shore-line dwindled off to the northward in long -scallops, every line of the yellow beach cut out cleanly, every oak on -the bluff outlined sharply. In truth, it was a glorious day--just the -day Beveridge would have chosen had the choice been his--the day of -days, on which he was to make the last arrangements in clinching his -success, in assuring his future. Annie had gone out to the nets with her -father. She was, at the moment, rowing him in. On other days Beveridge -had sat here and watched her coming in from the nets, with a great box -of whitefish aboard. - -The boat grounded on the sand. Captain Fargo stepped out and drew it up. -Beveridge rose and smiled lazily while he waited for Annie to come up -to the steps. The sun had been in her eyes, and at first she did not see -him distinctly. - -"Well," said Beveridge, "hello! Didn't expect to see me, did you?" - -She stopped abruptly and looked at him. He did not know just how to -interpret her expression. - -"Aren't you going to speak to me, Annie?" Her answer, when it came, -blanketed him, and left him, so to speak, flapping in the wind. She -said, "What have you done with Dick?" - -"Dick? Why--oh, he's all right." - -"Why hasn't he been back?" - -"He 'll be around all right. They thought it would be necessary to hold -him for a few days." - -"To hold him,--where?" - -"Don't you see--" - -"Is he in prison?" - -"Yes, but that will be fixed--" - -"In Chicago?" - -"Yes, he--" - -"Father," said she, "Dick's in prison. We must go down to see him." -And she turned back to Beveridge with the question, "When can we get a -train?" - -What could Beveridge do but fumble in his pockets, bring out a handful -of papers, look them over until he found a time-table, and announce that -the next train was the ten-twelve? - -"You will have to show us how to get there, Mr. Beveridge," said -Annie. "Come and change your clothes, father. Will you wait here, Mr. -Beveridge?" - -Beveridge said that he would, certainly. And then when father and -daughter had hurried into the house, and after Captain Fargo had turned -his box of fish over to a boy who acted on occasions as his helper, the -special agent sat down again and looked at the Lake. The sun was shining -on, bright as ever; the water was still varicolored, the sky still -blue-and-white; but he saw them not. - -In something more than twenty minutes Annie was down and waiting -impatiently for her father. Her whole mind was bent on getting to town. -She hardly saw Beveridge. As for him, chagrined as he was, he had to -admit that she looked very pretty in her trim blue gown. He had never -before seen her dressed for the city. He was inclined to feel awed as -well as bewildered. Then, finally, appeared the Captain in his Sunday -clothes. And the three set out for the train and Dick. - -All the way Annie was preoccupied. Hardly a word could Beveridge get. -From the train they hurried over to the stone building with the barred -windows. Here the special agent held a short, whispered conversation -which ended in the unbarring of doors and the word to follow down a -corridor. And finally the last door was opened and Dick stood before -them, dishevelled, unshaven, but indisputably Dick. Beveridge found -himself slipping into the background when Annie and the prisoner were -clasping hands without a word; but he watched them. He saw the question -in Dick's eyes,--the something deep and burning, the something that -was _not_ a question, in Annie's. He saw that she did not think of -withdrawing her hand; he knew that in one short moment more her arms -would be thrown around Dick's neck. He turned away, and, leaving them -there, walked out into the street. - -The lights were out at "The Teamster's Friend." It was ten o'clock at -night, and from Stenzenberger's lumber office on one corner through to -the corner at the farther end of the block the street was deserted. But -Beveridge, who slowly turned the corner by the lumber yard,--Beveridge, -who had passed the most turbulent day of his life trying to realize that -he had lost Annie,--knew where to look. Lonely, miserable, plunged into -dejection now that the strain was over, he turned into the driveway that -led to the sheds in the rear of the saloon, and, pausing, looked up. -Yes, there was a light in the upper rear window. He whistled. The -curtain went up a little way--some one was looking down. The curtain -went down again; the light slowly disappeared, leaving grotesque shadows -on the curtain as it was carried from the room. Steps sounded in the -hall; the bolt slipped back, and Madge stood in the doorway. - -"Hello," said Beveridge. "Here I am." - -"Oh," cried Madge, with what sounded like a gasp of relief. She drew him -quickly in, closed and locked the door, and stood looking at him. - -"I had to go out of town, Madge. I didn't get in till late last night. I -have some news for you." - -"Come in," she said. And they went back into the dining room, where she -had set down the lamp. They took chairs on opposite sides of the table. -Madge rested her elbows on the red cloth, propped her chin on her -two hands, and waited. Beveridge, while he looked at her, was rapidly -getting back his self-possession. - -"Well, Madge, there's a good deal to tell you. McGlory--" - -She waited as long as she could, then exclaimed, in an uncertain voice: -"What about him? Where is he?" - -"He's gone." - -"Where?" - -"Nobody on earth can tell you that." - -She leaned across the table and caught his arm. "Is he dead?" - -"Yes, dead--and buried." - -She leaned back in her chair. She could not take her eyes from his face, -and yet she said nothing. It could not be said that her face showed -a trace of happiness, but there was, nevertheless, a strange sort of -relief there. - -For a long time neither spoke. But Beveridge's impetuous nature could -not long endure this silence. "Well, Madge," he broke out, "do you still -want me?" - -She did not answer. - -"That's what I've come to know. If you 'll do it, we will be married -to-night." - -"You couldn't--" her voice was low and dreamy. "You couldn't get a -license before to-morrow," she said. - -"It's queer," said Dick, "but that is the Beveridge of it. You can't -tell what he is going to do next. I don't believe he knows himself half -the time." - -The _Captain_, with Annie at the tiller and Dick stretched lazily out -beside her, was skimming and bounding along off the Grosse Pointe light. - -"Wasn't it--" Annie wore a conscious expression--"wasn't it rather -sudden?" - -"It must have been. But that is Beveridge." - -"And she was a saloon keeper's wife?" - -"Yes,--but it wasn't so bad as it sounds when you say it that way. She -was too good for McGlory." - -"Oh, you--you know her?" - -"I've seen her, yes." - -"But isn't she--old?" - -"Not so very. She can't be much older than Beveridge. She is good -looking--almost pretty. And she looks sort of--well, when you saw her -there in McGlory's place, it seemed too bad. She was quiet, and she -looked as if she was made for something better." - -They were silent for a time. Then their eyes met, and she missed his -answering smile. "What is it, Dick?" she asked. - -"I was thinking about Henry--about what he was, and then what he did for -me. We have everything to thank him for, you and I, Annie." He paused, -then went on. "I suppose he was wrong--he must have been wrong if we -are to believe in law at all. But that night on the steamer, when he -was telling us about it, I watched him and Beveridge both pretty -closely,--the expression of their faces and their eyes. The way a man -looks at you tells so much, Annie. And I knew all the while, though -Beveridge was standing there for the law, and Henry for what they call -crime, still--" - -"What, Dick?" - -"--if I were in a tight place again and had to choose which of those two -men to trust my life with, I shouldn't need to stop to think. It would -be Henry, every time." - -He sat up to shift his position, when something which he saw on the -northern horizon drove the clouds from his face. This was a great day -for Dick. "Look, Annie!" He was pointing eagerly. "Look there!" - -"Where?" - -"Can't you see it--the _Anne?_" - -Then Annie's heart leaped too. And she ordered Dick to ease off the -sheet, adding only, "We 'll meet her, shan't we?" To which Dick responded -with a nod. - -So they headed north, with everything drawing full and the bubbles -dancing by. Pink saw them and came up into the wind. The _Captain_ -slipped alongside, a sailor caught the painter, Dick handed Annie up, -clambered after, stepped to the wheel, and they swung slowly off. - -"Make the boat fast astern," called Dick to one of the revenue cutter -men. - -"All right, sir." - -"Things gone all right, Pink?" - -"First class. Not much wind in the Straits." - -"I hardly thought there would be." - -Annie was perched on the cabin trunk, looking at Dick with laughing -eyes. She enjoyed watching him, she liked his easy way of falling into -the command of his schooner, she admired the muscles on his forearm (for -he had rolled up his sleeves). He caught her glance. "Want to take her, -Annie?" - -"Oh, yes, Dick. Will you let me?" - -"If you want to." - -So Annie took the wheel. She stood there, a merry, graceful -figure,--though Dick kept close by and reached out a steadying hand now -and then,--while the schooner came about, headed for the long pier, ran -up neatly into her berth, threw out her lines, and stopped, her voyage -over. - -_[Note:--In the spring, when the ice broke up in the streams of -Michigan, a party of lumbermen found what had been the body of a man -lying in a shallow creek, deep in the forest. Particulars would be -unpleasant. It is enough to say that they buried him there, being rough -men and far from a coroner; and that on a water-soaked envelope in his -pocket was found a name which, as nearly as anything, seemed to spell -"Roche." To the persons of this tale his end remained a mystery. It -might be added that Beveridge found more difficulty than he had foreseen -in weaving his net around Stenzenberger. In fact the special agent had -failed, at last accounts, to disturb the serenity of the lumber dealer, -in spite of the moral certainty that his share in the guilt was the -largest of any. Perhaps his secret went to the bottom of Lake Michigan -with Henry Smiley.--S.M.]_ - -[Illustration: 0431] - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Merry Anne, by Samuel Merwin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MERRY ANNE *** - -***** This file should be named 51916.txt or 51916.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/1/51916/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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