No Moss: or, The Career of a Rolling Stone

The day was a long one to the Crusoe men and their prisoners. They were tired, hungry, sleepy, and thirsty. The creek flowed by within a hundred yards of their concealment, but the governor had issued positive orders that no one should venture near it. Who could tell but that some of the students were sneaking about the island, or that the robbers were concealed among the bushes on the opposite bank, watching for them? The members of the band grumbled, as usual, but submitted – after Will Atkins, who declared that he was going to have a drink of water whether the governor was willing or not, had been taken down and thoroughly shaken – and between sleeping and watching the long hours passed slowly away. The lower the sun sank into the western horizon the longer the hours seemed to grow; but night came at last, and when it had grown quite dark, the governor picked up the valise, and gave the order to start.

"Untie the prisoners' feet, fellers," said Sam, "an' let them walk to the boat. When we get aboard the schooner we'll pitch into the grub an' water, and then we'll be ready to start. Xury, you take charge of the jolly-boat."

The Governor and Tom, the former holding fast to the valise, were first carried across. They examined the schooner very closely before going on board, but her deck was deserted, and there was no one in the cabin, hold, or galley. The governor drew a long breath of relief. "There's no arthly use in my sayin' that I aint afraid of them bugglars," said he, "'cause I am. I thought sure we'd find 'em stowed away somewhere about the schooner, but they're ashore lookin' fur us, an' we're all right. Didn't we say that we'd larn 'em a thing or two before we were done with 'em? They're the biggest dunces I ever saw. If they had any sense at all they would know that we wouldn't desert our vessel fur good. How could we get to our island without her, I'd like to know! Now, Xury, go back with the jolly-boat an' bring two of the prisoners across."

While the jolly-boat was gone Sam and Tom made heavy inroads on the crackers and cheese, and drank a good portion of the small supply of water they had taken on board at the cove, and which was intended to last until they reached the Elizabeth Islands. They were in excellent spirits, and talked and laughed over their meal, telling wonderful stories of what they intended to do when they reached their island, and not forgetting to say a word or two concerning the robbers and the trick they had played upon them. The jolly-boat came back in due time, with

Johnny and the lieutenant, who were pulled over the rail, conducted into the cabin, and tumbled into the bunks – not, however, until their feet had once more been securely bound. Johnny, especially, was very roughly handled by Tom Newcombe, who said to him, as he pushed him about:

"I knew I'd have a chance to square yards with you. You will learn, before I am done with you, that a man never makes any thing by imposing upon me. Don't you think I should be serving you right if I were to give you a good thrashing?"

Johnny, who was sitting on one of the bunks, looked down at Tom, and watched him while he tied his feet, but had nothing to say.

"You tormented me almost to death while I was in the village," continued the skipper. "If you passed me fifty times a day, you always had some question to ask about the Crusoe band."

"Well, that was because I felt an interest in the society, and wanted to know how the members were getting on," said Johnny.

"Do you know what I intend to do with you? I shall keep you on board this vessel until we arrive within a few miles of our island. Lie down there, now, and keep quiet."

As Tom said this he pushed Johnny into the bunk and went out, leaving him to his meditations.

If the captain of the pirate vessel could have his own way, the prisoner certainly had a dreary prospect before him. He felt a good deal as did Bob Jennings, when he lay on the sofa in the cabin of the Storm King, and Xury was taking her down the harbor in the face of the tempest. But his situation was worse than the fisher-boy's, for he was to be kept a prisoner until the voyage of the Sweepstakes was nearly ended. There was no sport in being obliged to remain in that hot cabin bound hand and foot; and when he remembered that the night promised to be very dark; that a black cloud hung threateningly in the horizon, and hoarse mutterings of distant thunder had been heard all the afternoon; that the navigation of the bay was at all times dangerous, and especially during a high wind; that Tom was scarcely sailor enough to handle a sail-boat in calm weather – when Johnny thought of all these things, it may be imagined that he was not very well pleased with his situation. The only consolation he could find was in the hope that the Sweepstakes might be speedily captured.

In half an hour all the prisoners had been stowed away in the bunks, the Crusoe men had satisfied their appetites, and the governor was ready to perform another duty that had been on his mind all the afternoon. It was something he did not like to do; but the well-being of the loyal members of the band demanded it. "Will Atkins," said he, "you an' Jack Spaniard take some grub an' water to the prisoners."

"Atkins! Atkins!" repeated the mutineer. "Can't nobody in this band do nothing except Atkins?"

"Silence!" commanded the chief, sternly. "Do as you are told, to onct, an' without any more growlin'. I've give you one lesson to-day, an' if you don't mind your eye, I'll give you another. Mark you, now. Don't untie their hands, but feed 'em yourselves, an' give 'em all they want, too."

The discontented members, fearing to disobey, sullenly gathered up an armful of crackers, filled a cup with water, and went into the cabin. The governor watched them suspiciously until they disappeared, and then, turning to Xury, said:

"Well, was I right or wrong?"

"You were right," answered the mate. "They are just spilin' to get their hands on that money, an' I told 'em that I'd help 'em. We've made up a plan to steal the valise when we stop at the Elizabeth Islands fur water."

"I knew I couldn't be fooled easy," said the chief, "but I wanted to be sure. I'll fix 'em for that."

The skipper and Friday did not understand this conversation, but the governor in a few words explained. He said that ever since Tom's new idea was communicated to the band, he had been suspicious that Atkins and Jack Spaniard were watching their chance to desert the vessel, and make off with the valise – he had seen it in their eyes. In order to satisfy himself on this point, he had commissioned the mate to pump them. Xury had acted his part well, and having succeeded in making the mutineers believe that he was dissatisfied with the way the affairs of the band were conducted, they had taken him into their confidence. The evidence against them was now conclusive, and the governor thought it high time they were secured and deprived of their power for mischief. The other members of the band thought so, too. The captain, as usual, was very indignant, and would have made a lengthy speech on the subject, had he not been interrupted by the chief, who informed him that it was a time for action, not words.

"Let each of us get a rope," said Sam, "an' we'll go into the cabin an' make prisoners of 'em. Friday, you an' Xury pitch into Jack Spaniard, an' me an the cap'n will take care of Atkins. Don't waste no time, now, for it ain't best to give them too much show."

The governor led the way into the cabin, where the mutineers were busy feeding the prisoners. Atkins was holding a cup of water to Johnny's lips. He started and turned pale when he saw the angry looks of the chief, and the rope he carried in his hand, and instead of pouring the water into the prisoner's mouth, he spilled it all down his neck.

"Now, look at that!" said Johnny.

"Aha!" exclaimed the governor, "your looks are enough to tell the whole story. Didn't I say that I knew you an' Jack Spaniard were up to something?"

That was enough for Atkins, who, knowing that he was betrayed, dropped his cup and bounded toward the ladder; but the governor, being on the alert, clasped him in his arms, and with the assistance of Tom Newcombe, secured him very easily. Friday and Xury attacked Jack Spaniard, who, seeing his companion helpless, surrendered without any attempt to resist them.

"This is some of your work," said Atkins, glaring fiercely at the mate.

"Well, I reckon I know that, don't I?" coolly replied Xury.

"An' you promised, honor bright, that you wouldn't never say a word to any body, an' you shook hands on it."

"All them things go for nothing when a feller's actin' the part of a spy. You went back on me an' the cap'n when we were in trouble, an' now we are even with you."

"Chuck 'em into the bunks, fellers," said the chief. "We haint got so many men as we had a little while ago, but them that's left are true an' law-abidin'. Cap'n, we'll get under-way, now."

When the new prisoners had been disposed of, Tom led the way to the deck, and after half an hour's hard work, the Sweepstakes was got clear of the bushes, the sails were hoisted, and the Crusoe men and their captives were moving swiftly down the creek toward the bay. While the governor and Tom were coiling down the ropes and clearing up the deck, the latter repeated what he had said to Johnny Harding; and after a few objections from Sam, who did not want to be bothered long with the prisoners, it was decided that Johnny ought to be punished, and that the best way to do it would be to put him ashore on some desert island in the middle of the ocean, and leave him to take his chances of finding his way back to Newport. The captain could not rest easy until he had communicated this decision to Johnny; so when every thing was made snug, and Friday had been stationed on the forecastle to act as lookout, he ran down into the cabin. At the foot of the ladder, he came to a sudden stop, and stood with his neck stretched out, his mouth open, and his eyes almost starting from their sockets. In the middle of the cabin was a small hatchway, which led into a little store-room where 'Squire Thompson kept his nets and other fishing-tackle stored away, and that hatchway was open, and a pair of evil looking eyes, that belonged to Sanders the burglar, were peering over the combings. The Crusoe men were not rid of the robbers after all.

CHAPTER XXI.

CONCLUSION

Had the eyes that were peering at him over the combings of the hatchway belonged to his father instead of Sanders, Tom could not have been more astounded. His first impulse was to run on deck and report the matter to the governor, but when he had taken a second thought he knew that would be of no use, for, before the crew could be collected, the burglars would have ample time to come out of the store-room, and if they once gained a footing on deck they would soon square accounts with the Crusoe men. The skipper knew that Sanders must be driven back again at once, and that he must do it.

"You young rascal!" said the burglar, placing his hands against the hatch, which he had lifted with his head, "we're going to settle with you now. I wouldn't be in your boots for a shilling."

Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when an incident happened that confounded the robber and not a little astonished the prisoners, who lay in their bunks interested witnesses of what was going on. Tom, seeing that Sanders was preparing to ascend into the cabin, took a step forward, sprang into the air like an antelope and alighted with both feet on the hatch, which crashed down upon the burglar's head, knocking him back into the store-room. The captain's heels, at the same time, flew up very suddenly, and he sat down on the hatch, holding it in its place. So unexpected was the movement, and so suddenly was it executed, that it was completely successful. Sanders was stretched at full length on the floor of the store-room, and before he could recover his feet, Tom had thrown the bar over the hatch, and secured it with the padlock, which lay close at hand. There were eight prisoners on board the Sweepstakes now.

"Well, captain," exclaimed Johnny Harding, "if you are a Crusoe man, I must say that was well done. The burglars are safe, and if Mr. Henry was here, I know he would thank you."

The skipper sat on the hatch a long time, listening to the movements of the robbers below, and thinking over what he had done, and finally recovered himself sufficiently to go on deck and report the matter. The governor could scarcely believe his ears. He complimented Tom highly for his promptness and decision, declared that it beat any thing that had happened in the band since he became governor, and ran down into the cabin to satisfy himself that the captain had securely fastened the hatch. The robbers were storming about in their narrow prison like caged hyenas, calling upon Tom to raise the hatch at once, or they would take a terrible revenge upon him when they got out. They threatened to sink the vessel, to set fire to her, to shoot their revolvers through the deck, and to do many other desperate things, but they did not succeed in bringing any response from the Crusoe men. They were thinking about something else. They were asking themselves what they should do with the burglars, now that they had secured them. They could not keep them in their prison forever, and it would be dangerous to let them out. If they were confined during the voyage they would starve to death, and if the Crusoe men raised the hatch to pass provisions and water down to them, the robbers might use their revolvers. Sam could see no way out of this new difficulty, and he heartily wished Sanders and his companion a hundred miles from there. But he could not waste time in thinking about them when business of more importance demanded his attention. After a careful examination of the prisoners' bonds he went on deck with the captain, and found that the schooner was on the point of entering the bay, and that she had left the creek just in time to escape being blockaded. The yacht was in plain sight.

"There's them spooneys again, cap'n," said Xury.

"Let them come," replied Tom, indifferently. "Show them our heels, Mr. Mate."

In obedience to the order Xury turned the Sweepstakes down the bay, the sheets were let out, and then began a race which did not end in one hour, nor two, but continued all night, and was carried on in the face of a tempest, which, although by no means as terrible as the one the Storm King had weathered on another memorable occasion, was still severe enough to test the sea-going qualities of the little vessels, and the skill and judgment of their respective commanders. The cloud that had been hanging in the horizon all the afternoon gradually overspread the sky, shutting out the light of the stars, and shrouding the bay in intense darkness; the lightning flashed, the peals of thunder were almost incessant, the wind blew a gale, and at midnight both pursuers and pursued wished themselves safe in some snug harbor, out of reach of the storm. Captain Steele and his executive knew the bay as well as they knew their Latin grammars, and it made little difference to them whether it was midnight or noon, so long as the wind was fair and the sea smooth. If the first lieutenant had been in command of the yacht, she never would have been caught out in that gale. Harry would have found a safe harbor in the creek, and remained there until the storm was over, but the captain thought he was as skillful a sailor as Tom Newcombe or any other member of the band, and when he saw the Sweepstakes standing boldly out to sea he filled away in pursuit of her. The light canvas was taken in, every thing made snug on board, two trusty men sent to the wheel, and, under a close-reefed jib and mainsail, the yacht dashed over the waves after the pirate. The hatches were battened down, all hands kept on deck, and the young commander, in his pea-jacket and tarpaulin, and with his speaking trumpet in his hand, stood on the quarter-deck, alert and watchful. Every flash of lightning revealed the Sweepstakes laboring heavily, and making but poor headway under the management of her ignorant and unskillful crew.

On board the schooner things looked desolate and discouraging. As the cloud arose and the fierce gusts of wind began to ruffle the waters of the bay, causing the Sweepstakes to careen wildly under her heavy canvas, Captain Newcombe felt his courage gradually oozing out at the ends of his fingers. It was a fine thing to be master of a vessel in calm weather, but, when a storm was brewing, the case was different.

"Skipper,", said the chief, "hadn't we better be doin' something? I think it would be a good plan to take them jibs and top-sails in before they take themselves out."

Tom cast a frightened glance around him – at the sails, the foam-capped waves, the angry clouds, and in a weak voice declared that it was utterly impossible for him to manage the vessel any longer.

"There isn't one man in a hundred who could endure what I have been through since last night," said he, dolefully. "A fellow can't keep up long with no sleep, and nothing but crackers and cheese to eat. I'm sick, Sam, and you or Xury will have to take command."

"Now look a here, cap'n," exclaimed the chief, who became alarmed at the prospect of being obliged to assume so much responsibility, "can't you stand it just fur to-night, or fur an hour or two?"

"No, nor for a single minute," drawled Tom. "I'm awful sick. I turn the command over to you. Carry as much or as little sail as you please, and if any thing serious happens, call me. I'm done for." And Sam thought he was, for he let go the rail and sank down in a heap upon the deck.

"Well, if this yere don't beat all the world," exclaimed the governor, in dismay, hurrying aft to consult with Xury. "Here's the cap'n clean pegged out, a storm comin' up, every rag spread, them spooneys close at our heels, an' only three of us left to make things safe, an' to defend the vessel if we are ketched. What's to be done? Can you be cap'n?"

"I reckon," replied the mate. "If you'll stand at the wheel, an' be ready to spill the sails when I give the word, me an' Friday will take 'em in."

"Be lively about it," said the governor, glancing uneasily toward the yacht, which, being kept in better trim than the schooner, was riding the waves as gracefully as ever, and gaining rapidly. "Them spooneys aint wastin' no time."

In twenty minutes the top-sails and jibs had been taken in and stowed away, the fore and main-sails close reefed, and the Sweepstakes began to make better weather of it, but the work had delayed her considerably, and, when the new captain took his place at the wheel again, the yacht was scarcely two hundred yards distant. During the remainder of the night she kept close behind the schooner, and Sam, watching her movements as the lightning revealed them to him, and noting the skill with which she was handled, told himself more than once that he had been sadly mistaken in the opinions he had formed concerning the students. He had hailed the approach of the storm with delight, believing that the young tars, rather than face it, would turn and run for the village; but there they were, following close in his wake, and showing no disposition to abandon the chase. The governor did not like to see so much perseverance exhibited by the students. It showed that they were determined to capture him.

And how fared it with the prisoners all this while, and how must they have felt, tossed about in their bunks as the schooner labored through the waves? They would have possessed wonderful courage, indeed, if they had not been thoroughly alarmed at their situation. They passed the long, dreary hours in listening to the roar of the wind, the washing of the waves against the sides of the vessel, the despairing cries and appeals that came from the store-room under the deck, the frantic blows that resounded on the hatch, as the robbers made desperate but ineffectual attempts to escape from their prison, and waiting, with all the fortitude they could command, to feel the schooner sinking under them, or to hear the crash that would tell them she had been driven ashore in the darkness. How they struggled to free themselves from their bonds, and how they shouted to attract the attention of the schooner's crew, adding their cries to those of the robbers, and promising, if they were released, to assist in navigating the vessel, and to make no attempt at escape – promises that would have been faithfully kept, if the governor had heard and listened to them. It was a night never to be forgotten.

Daylight came at last, and, when objects in the cabin could be discerned, Johnny Harding with difficulty rolled out of his bunk and hobbled to one of the windows in the stern, and looked out. The waves still ran high, but the storm had passed away, the sky was clear, and the gale had subsided into a capital sailing wind. The headlands at the entrance to Buzzard's Bay had just been passed, and the schooner was in deep water. Close behind her, and in plain view, came the Storm King, lying almost on her side, dipping her huge mainsail into the waves now and then, and dashing the spray furiously about her sharp bows. As Johnny looked at her he saw a couple of young tars mount the ratlines, and a moment afterward the flying-jib was run up, and the gaff-topsail given to the wind. Captain Steele thought he had followed the pirate far enough, and was now going to bring matters to an issue.

"Hurrah for us!" shouted Johnny, in high excitement. "Hurrah for the navy, Captain Steele, Harry Green, and every body, except the Crusoe men! Tumble up, fellows! Come to the window if you can, and you will see a sight that will do your hearts good. Here's the yacht."

"Hurrah!" yelled the students, rolling recklessly out of the bunks, and landing on the deck in one confused heap.

"Well, now, look here! I say! What's the row?" demanded Sam Barton, who at that moment entered the cabin to see that his prisoners were safe.

"Hallo, governor," said Johnny. "How do you feel this fine morning? How are Xury and the Captain? How are your mother and your father? How's your uncle, and all the rest of the Barton family?"

"Eh?" exclaimed Sam, who did not know what to make of this salutation. He looked suspiciously at Johnny, and stepped back and raised the handspike with which he had taken the precaution to arm himself before leaving the deck.

"It's little good that club would do you if my hands and feet were free," said Johnny. "But come here, governor, and tell me if you have seen that nice little vessel out there."

"O, is that what the fuss is about? Yes, I see her, but I won't see her in an hour from now, and neither will you. I can carry as much sail in this sea as she can, an' I've got every rag histed."

"I believe you," said Jackson, from the corner where he had been thrown by a sudden lurch of the vessel. "O dear! Sam, untie my hands, so that I can rub my head."

The governor, who had also been stretched at full length on the floor of the cabin, arose to his feet with an angry exclamation, and disappeared in the hold; and when he came out his arms were filled with provisions. Johnny and his companions looked at him with hungry eyes; but the governor, having no time to waste upon them, and thinking more of himself and men than of the comfort of his prisoners, hurried on deck, and seating himself beside Friday, who was at the wheel, prepared to enjoy his breakfast and watch his enemies at the same time. We ought to say that Tom was again master of the Sweepstakes. His illness passed away with the storm, and he was now so far recovered that he was able to do full justice to the crackers and cheese.

The crew of the Storm King fared as well as if they had been at the academy. During the previous day, they spoke the principal's tug, which supplied them with an abundance of cooked rations. Part of them, too, were in better trim than the Crusoe men; for, when the storm began to abate, about three o'clock, the starboard watch had gone below, and enjoyed two hours refreshing sleep. When the crew had eaten breakfast, and the mess-tables had been cleared away, the port watch were ordered to stand by their hammocks. They obeyed, and went below, but did not stay there long. They were too excited to sleep. They returned to the deck again, one after the other, and the captain raised no objections to it. He was a boy himself; and he knew that he would not turn in, while the pirates were in plain sight, for any body.