CHAPTER XX THE PURSUIT OF THE BRANDT
There was a warm welcome for Harvey aboard the sloop, although Arthur andJoe Warren could hardly believe their eyes at first, when they saw himstep over the rail on deck. When they did recognize, in theweather-beaten, bronzed and rough-looking figure, their comrade ofBenton, they fell upon him and dragged him below into the cabin, followedby Tom Edwards and Will Adams.
And as they sailed across the Chesapeake a little later, on their longcourse, east by north in the direction of Hooper strait, Harvey recountedhis adventures--assisted by Tom Edwards, who filled in the parts whichHarvey omitted, recounting in glowing terms how Harvey had stood by himthrough thick and thin, refusing to desert his friend when theopportunity had offered for him to escape, alone.
Edward Warren looked serious, as Harvey described the life aboard theBrandt, and the treatment of the men at Haley's hands.
"I wouldn't have had young Burns taken off on that craft for all themoney in Maryland," he said, gravely. "I feel somehow to blame for it,too," he added, "though I hadn't the least idea he would attempt to leavethe house at night. Give her all the sail she'll stand, Will," he calledto Will Adams, who, with George Warren, had returned on deck; "let's getacross as quick as we can."
"She's making good time," replied George Warren, hurrying down belowagain, to hear the story; "we'll be in the strait by early afternoon."
The old Mollie was, indeed, doing her prettiest, and carrying a "bone inher teeth" under a fresh westerly breeze.
George Warren vowed vengeance on Haley, for his hard treatment of Harveyand Tom Edwards. Young Joe groaned in sympathy as Harvey told of the foodserved to the crew of the Brandt.
"There's a big chicken pie, over in that locker, Jack," he said, with alonging look in the direction indicated.
"No, thanks, Joe," laughed Harvey; "we had a good, square meal before weset out this morning; and we've been making up for what we lost, theselast few days."
"No use, Joe, you'll have to wait till dinner time before you get anymore of that pie," said Arthur Warren, slyly.
Young Joe scowled in high indignation.
"I didn't want any," he declared.
"Well, I've done all I can," said Edward Warren. "I've put theauthorities on the track, and a police boat will pick up Haley, I expect,before we do. We'll have some news as soon as we get over among thedredging fleet."
"I'm not so sure about Haley's being caught right off," returned WillAdams. "It all depends upon whether he thinks he's being hunted or not.This bay is a mighty big sheet of water, and there are a thousand and oneplaces to run to for hiding. And as I say, these fellows have a way ofwarning one another. We may get word of him soon, or we may not. We'llhave to wait and see."
They ran in through Hooper strait that afternoon, in company with quite afleet of oyster fishermen; a score of bug-eyes, picturesque and spiritedunder full sail; several sharp-stern punjies; and, in Tangier Sound,other smaller craft. Harvey, on deck, as lookout, watched eagerly, usingWill Adams's telescope now and then, for the familiar rig of the Brandt.Will Adams, at the wheel, rejoiced in the acquisition of one who wouldknow the craft at a distance, instead of their having to trust to chancereport of the vessel from some passing skipper.
But there was no Brandt to be seen that afternoon. They came to anchor inTangier Sound at dusk, and made ready for the night, impatient to resumethe search upon the morrow.
"Not much like the Brandt, old fellow, is it?" remarked Harvey to TomEdwards, as they turned in on some blankets on the cabin floor.
Tom Edwards gave a yawn and a murmur of satisfaction.
"It's fine and comfortable," he said--"but I won't be sorry to be back inold Boston once more--if we ever get there. I wasn't cut out for asailor."
They started out again in good time, the following morning, following thetrack of the dredging fleet, cruising in and out among the vessels.Perhaps their appearance cruising thus, apparently idle, with no fishingequipment, may have excited some suspicion. Certain it is, they gotlittle assistance from the captains they hailed, as Will Adams hadfeared.
"Hello, ahoy there!" Will Adams would call, through a big megaphone.
"Ahoy, the Mollie!"
"Seen anything of the Z. B. Brandt?"
"No."
The answer would come short and sharp.
Sometimes they would sail along with a dredger, as it heaved and wound inits dredges, making inquiries; but, despite the fact that someone inthese waters, of whom they asked, must, it would seem, have known a craftthat was a regular dredger thereabouts, no one could, or would, enlightenthem.
That evening, however, as they sought a berth for the night, in companywith some dozen other craft, in a cove at the upper end of BloodsworthIsland, they got a hint of what seemed like a clue. They had come toanchor and night had fallen. Smoke was pouring out of the funnels of acluster of oystermen some few rods away, and light shone cheerily fromcabin companions. Will Adams lifted his megaphone to his lips and calledout his inquiry if anyone had seen the Brandt. The reply came "Who areyou?" Will Adams answered. The response to this was vague andunintelligible, but the tone was one of contempt. Yet, amid a confusionof voices, Will Adams caught this remark:
"Reckon Haley's gone up the Nanticoke again, where it's easy dredging."
This was followed by a chorus of rough laughter.
By the light of the cabin lamp, that night, the yachtsmen aboard theMollie studied the Nanticoke river on their chart. Edward Warren and WillAdams looked at Harvey, inquiringly.
"We never went up there while I was aboard," said Harvey. "Haley did mostof his poaching in the Patuxent and Tangier Sound; but it's not anunlikely place. We might get word of him there."
They sailed northeast from Bloodsworth island next day, and started upthe Nanticoke river, running by the buoys half-way to Roaring Point. Sometong-men in their canoes were at work in the chilling water, on the eastbank at a bend of the river, and the Mollie was swung into the wind for aword with them.
The occupant of one of the canoes straightened up, at their inquiry, andeyed them shrewdly.
"You needn't look fer no Brandt up this river," he replied, in a drawlingtone; "they do say as she was one of them as had the fight up above here,with the patrol; but if she was, she got away, all right. At any rate,she was going south, by Deal Island, the last I heard of her. If you'reafter her, I hope you get her--and bad luck to the skipper that runs her,being as he's a poacher by reputation in these parts."
The Mollie headed back down the river, almost due south into TangierSound. They had struck the trail at last. But the trail was a windingone. It led some nine miles southward, and then through a great stretchof bay off to the eastward, skirting countless acres of salt marshes,whither they were directed by a passing vessel. The captain knew HamiltonHaley, and added gratuitously that he knew no good of him; by which itseemed Haley had his enemies in the bay, as well as friends.
Then the trail led away in a great sweep, some ten miles to thesouthwest, toward Smith Island, where the bug-eye had been seen heading.They made this island on the forenoon of the next day. There they gottrace again of a bug-eye answering the description of the Brandt; but ithad made sail that morning to the eastward. They followed, in turn,across six miles of Tangier Sound to the shore of another broad extent ofsalt marsh, called Janes Island. They sailed southward along that, aboutdusk. Below them, by the chart, lay a good anchorage for the night,Somers Cove, at the mouth of a river. Already, in the gathering darkness,a mile ahead, there gleamed the rays of Janes Island lighthouse, markingthe entrance to the harbour.
A half-mile ahead of them, making for this same light, sailed a vessel.They had had a glimpse of it before dusk set in, but not clear enough tomake it out.
Then, as they sailed, the faint cry of someone in distress came to theirears--a startling, puzzling cry, that seemed to come up from the verydepths of the dark waters.
Hamilton Haley, runn
ing his vessel out of the mouth of the Nanticoke, onthe night of the disastrous fight with the police steamer, was at firstabout equally divided in mind between exultation and anger. He smiledgrimly as he thought of the battle that had been waged with the owners ofthe oyster beds, and of the several score bushels of oysters plunderedbefore the arrival of the steamer. He chuckled as he pictured again theescape in the fog, from the victorious steamer. But he mutteredmaledictions on the head of the skipper that had sunk the bug-eye, andwho might have surmised, or might now be able to discover who theconfederates of the unfortunate captain had been. He crowded on sail,once clear of the river, and went flying southward, in the early morninghours, along the shores of Deal Island.
The bug-eye turned the southern point of Deal Island and passed inthrough a narrow stretch of water called the Lower Thoroughfare, whichran between Deal Island and a smaller one, known as Little Island.Threading this thoroughfare, Haley sailed east and then northward, into aharbour called Fishing Creek. Here he dropped sail, came to anchor andprepared to lie snug, to rest and reflect upon what course to take.
In spite of his successful escape, Haley was worried--almost alarmed;and, as he considered the situation, throughout the day, his anxietyincreased. There were several things that worried him; and, now thattroubles began to press, he thought of them all at once, as impending andimmediate dangers. Perhaps, unconsciously, he had lost nerve. He thoughtof possible pursuit from the steamer. He thought of a hunt that mighthave been set on foot for Henry Burns, the youth he had carried off fromthe Patuxent. He thought of Harvey and his companion, safely ashore, andperhaps long ere this having set on foot a search of reprisal.
Several times during the day, as Haley encountered Henry Burns about thedeck, he stopped abruptly and seemed to be lost in thought. It would havedisturbed the calmness of even that youth, could he have read Haley'smind; could he have known that, of all his troubles, Captain HamiltonHaley regarded Henry Burns as the one that most menaced his safety. Butit was so. Other things might be denied. The evidence would be hard togather; but here was the stolen youth, evidence in himself of Haley'sact.
What Haley decided as best for his safety was expressed by Haley,himself, in answer to a question by Jim Adams, that afternoon.
"I'm going south--farther south," he said, "down into Virginia waters,across the line. The police tubs won't follow below that. We'll stay fora while. I don't know how long--till the trouble has had time to blowover, anyway."
Nevertheless, when sail was made again, that afternoon on the bug-eye,the course was not southward, but off to the east, following the shoreline of the great sweep of bay leading into a wide river; and Jim Adams,mate, wondered. He was free with Haley, for he had come to be well-nighindispensable to him; and he made bold to ask the reason for Haley'schange of mind. Haley's eyes flashed with a hard light.
"That's my business," he answered, shortly.
Twilight came early; they had run in past St. Pierre island, rounded apoint on the eastern bank of the river, and come to, in a small cove.Haley gave the wheel to Jim Adams.
"Hold her where she is," he said. He went to the stem, and drew the skiffdown alongside. "Come here," he called to Henry Burns and the sailorJeff. They came aft, in surprise.
"Get in there!" Haley commanded, roughly. "We're short of wood. I wantyou two to come with me and get some."
It was a strange hour for wood gathering; it was already beginning togrow heavy with the dusk. Furthermore, there was no wood-land in sight.The shore seemed lined with marshes, and barren. But the two started toobey, and Haley prepared to enter the skiff with them. A most unexpectedthing happened, however. Jim Adams left the wheel and stepped to the sideof the bug-eye.
"Come here, Mister Haley, if you please," he said, still simulating apoliteness of address and manner, but with an insolent expression on hisface. "Come back here, Mister Haley, I want to speak with you."
Haley, glaring at him, ignored his words and started to cast off theline. Jim Adams sprang and caught it. "You jes' got to come back here amoment, Mister Haley," he said.
With an exclamation of wrath, Haley sprang back on deck and advanced uponJim Adams.
"What do you mean, interfering with me, you nigger?" he cried.
Jim Adams, mysteriously beckoning him to follow, retreated across thedeck, to the side of the after-house.
"Mister Haley," he said, softly, "I got something to say to you. I knowwhat you come in here for now. There don't no wood grow hereabouts. Youthinks this would be a mighty fine place to leave that youngster thatcame from the Patuxent. But I ain't goin' to let you do it, MisterHaley--leastways not yet. I reckon Jim Adams wouldn't be here now if itwasn't for that youngster hauling him back aboard when he came out of theNanticoke."
Haley, taken utterly by surprise, glared at the mate for one momentwithout being able to find words to reply. Then he cried out that hewould knock him overboard, and raised his fist for a blow. The agile matecaught his wrist and held it in a grip that Haley could not shake off.They struggled for a moment, and then Haley, breaking loose, stood,trembling with rage.
"Jim Adams," he said, huskily, "what ails you--have you gone crazy?You've always been a good mate. Don't be a fool now. Don't you know theboy's a danger to us, here? Do you want to go to jail on account of him?"
"Sho' no, I don't at all, Cap'n Haley," answered the mate, withassurance. "See here,"--and he assumed a more civil, urgent tone,--"Iwant to get clear of that young chap just as bad as you do, Mister Haley;but I jes' don't like to see him go ashore now, cause there ain't nothin'but ma'sh land hereabouts, and I know he'd starve to death, or drown. AndI reckon Jim Adams owes him that much, to see as he's put ashore where hecan get away, somehow. That's all I want. Wait till we get down intoVirginny, Mister Haley, and I won't make no trouble--but I guess you andI will fight pretty bad if he has to go here."
The mate's manner was both threatening and wheedling. Clearly, he had nofear of Haley. It was man against man. Haley waited some moments, eyingthe mate as if to read his mind. Evidently what he saw, in the snappingeyes that returned his gaze, convinced him that Jim Adams was not to beturned aside without a struggle.
"All right," he said, "but I'll get square for it. Let your anchor go.Come aboard here, you men. We'll get our wood down yonder. Drop thosesails and turn in."
Sullenly, leaving the mate to make all snug, Haley went below. Jim Adams,turning his eyes upon Henry Burns as the boy slipped down into theforecastle, muttered softly to himself. He had a queer kind ofcold-blooded logic, had Jim Adams.
"There," he said, "you and I am square, young fellow. You saved my life,and now I've saved yours. That makes us even, I reckon. The next time, Iguess you'll have to go ashore."
Into this bay and out again, the course of the Brandt now continued, asthe sloop Mollie traced it later. A vessel that passed here and there,despite Haley's precautions, sufficed to give the clues he fain wouldhave hid. There is fate in all things, and it was Haley's now to leave anopen trail where he sought concealment. He ran to Smith Island, and theMollie got trace of him there. He sailed southward, and the Virginia linewas not so many miles away. Of an evening, as darkness was shutting down,he perceived far astern a sloop coming in his wake. He noticed it, butgave it little thought. He had one other idea in his mind, and thatovershadowed all else. The boy that was a peril to him must be gotten ridof.
The Brandt was running free, with the wind directly astern--a freshevening breeze that was sending her along at a fair clip. Hamilton Haleyhad the wheel. Jim Adams was below. Sam Black was on deck, forward. HenryBurns was on deck. Wallace Brooks was on deck. Haley watched and waited.By and by, Brooks stepped to the companion and went below. Haley calledto Henry Burns. There was a tangle of gear near the after-house.
"Here you, youngster, straighten out that line and coil it up neat,"ordered Haley. Henry Burns went to work. Haley stood silently by thewheel. The minutes passed, and Henry Burns worked on. His back was towardthe captain.
The booms wer
e out on the starboard side. Watching the boy sharply, Haleystooped and grasped the main-sheet, and drew it in a little. Themain-sail shivered, as the breeze caught it slightly aback. Cautiously,Haley put the helm up a trifle; the bug-eye headed more to the starboard,and the sail shivered still more. Henry Burns, intent upon his work,however, failed to notice the manoeuvre.
Then the main-sheet slackened suddenly in Haley's hand, as the boomstarted to swing inboard. Haley dropped the sheet and put the helm hardup. Swiftly the heavy boom jibed across the stern. Haley ducked his headas it swung past. The change of motion in the vessel was now apparent toHenry Burns. One glance, and he saw the shadow of the sail as the boomcrashed upon him, with a swiftness he could not evade. He had barely timeto dodge when the boom caught him, grazing the top of his head andhurling him overboard into the icy water. He had saved his life, but hewas momentarily stunned--and the bug-eye, Brandt, was disappearing in thedarkness when he came to his senses, choking, and stinging with the slapof the winter seas.
The bug-eye swerved and laid over, with the jibing of the booms. But thewind was not heavy; the sheets held, and Haley had her on her course inanother moment.
Henry Burns's smothered cry was unheard save by Haley. It was not untilanother hour, when the Brandt rounded to in Somers cove, that the boy'sloss was discovered. Jim Adams, hardened as he was, faced Haley solemnly.
"Mister Haley," he said, "I've seen you pay two men the wages that wasdue them, with that ere main-boom, since I've been aboard this craft, andthey was not much account; but sure I think we'll have bad luck now,'cause we could have got rid of that youngster without that."
For better or worse luck, however, the bug-eye Brandt made snug for thenight. There was a good berth to lie in; it was a quiet night, with onlya gentle breeze blowing. A lantern was set in the shrouds, and all handsturned.
Henry Burns, knocked overboard by the blow of the boom, sank in thechilling water, then rose again. He was not badly injured, but waschoking with the water he had swallowed. He had strength enough to cryout only feebly. There was no salvation in that. He husbanded hisstrength and struck out, to keep himself afloat. Fortunately, he was notencumbered with oil skins, or he would have sunk.
Terror seized him; there seemed to be no chance for life in the darkness.Yet he struggled to keep afloat. Then the shadow of some object camebefore his eyes. It was a small cask, rolled off the deck of the Brandtas she had heeled with the jibing of the boom. Henry Burns grasped it, asit floated close, and clasped his arms over it. It sufficed to float him,with the most of his body under water. It was a forlorn hope, yet heclung with desperation.
Minutes that seemed like hours passed. His hold slipped, as his fingersbecame numbed. He gave a cry of despair, struggled with all his strengthand regained his hold. Again he clung for what seemed to him hours. Buthis strength was waning. The cold was robbing him of strength--of life.In despair, he cried aloud again and again, over the waste of waters. Hecould not hold out longer.
Then, out of the blackness there came a rushing sound, as of some largebody moving through the waves--and then--an answering call.
A cry from the blackness of the sea! Will Adams, at the wheel of theMollie, felt his hair rise on end. Jack Harvey, forward, on watch, feltthe cold perspiration stand out all over him. It seemed somethingunearthly--impossible.
But the cry came again, and again. The sloop headed in the direction ofthe sound, and there came into view the vague figure, floating, clingingto the cask. They drew the castaway aboard presently--and then JackHarvey set up a shout that almost reached to Haley's bug-eye.
"Henry Burns!"
They had him down in the warm cabin in a twinkling, and between blankets,with hot drink to restore his strength. Edward Warren fairly wept for joyand relief from anxiety. The Warrens and Jack Harvey tried hard to keepthe tears from their eyes, but didn't all succeed. Will Adams stood bythe wheel, but called for news every moment from the rescued one, andfairly shouted with exultation when Henry Burns gave the tidings that theBrandt was just ahead, making for Somers Cove.
They turned the point and stood into the harbour. The sight that greetedtheir eyes made their blood tingle. Under the lee of Long Point, therelay a vessel at anchor, betrayed by its harbour light.
"It's the Brandt," exclaimed Harvey, as they neared it.
But, even as they spilled the wind from their sails, luffing, to considertheir plan of attack, there came voices from the Brandt, and two menappeared on deck. So, to avoid suspicion, the Mollie ran in past theBrandt for some rods, and came to anchor ahead of her. Quickly, sailswere made snug and lights doused in the cabin, a single small lanternbeing set for a harbour light. Then the crew of the Mollie gathered for aconference in the cabin.
Jack Harvey, eager to be avenged for his wrongs, was for standing overboldly and attacking the bug-eye then and there; but Will Adams andEdward Warren, older and wiser, were for waiting.
"We'll never let him sail away," said Will Adams, reassuringly; "dependon that. But every minute we wait, saves a blow. They may be suspiciousfor a while, but they'll not watch all night."
"But how can we reach them without giving warning?" asked Tom Edwards."They'll hear us if we try to make sail, and one small skiff won't holdus all."
Will Adams pulled out his watch and noted the time. "In two hours it willbe easy," he answered. "In two hours the tide will begin to ebb out ofthe river. We're above the Brandt. When the tide turns, we'll just startthe anchor off bottom and drop back on her. Get out the guns and makeready--but be quiet."
They worked silently, and watched the hands of Will Adams's watch moveslowly around the dial. It seemed as though an hour would never go. Sixtymore long minutes, and, as Will Adams had foretold, the vessels wereswinging. Now their bows were no longer pointing out of the cove, butup-river.
Will Adams, in stocking feet, crept cautiously out on deck andextinguished the harbour light in the shrouds.
"We'll see if they take notice of that," he whispered, as he crept backagain.
There was no sound of life aboard the Brandt, which swung idly at itsmooring.
Gathering his force now, Will Adams instructed them in the parts eachshould play. He sent Jack Harvey astern to the wheel.
"You know how to steer her when she's going astern?" he asked--"Just thereverse of the usual way."
"Sure, I know," replied Harvey, and crept to his post.
Edward Warren, armed with a rifle, and the others, carrying the equipmentof shot-guns, took up their positions on the companion stairs, ready torush out at the word. At the top, a dangerous post, crouched GeorgeWarren, holding a coil of rope, one end of which had been made fast tothe foremast. Will Adams stole forward and slowly hauled in on theanchor-rode. The Mollie went ahead, leaving a greater distance betweenherself and the Brandt.
All at once, however, she began to drift slowly back again. Will Adamshad the anchor off bottom. Harvey turned the wheel slightly, this way andthat. The Mollie was dropping down upon the Brandt.
Gently the stern of the sloop grazed along the side of the bug-eye.George Warren leaped upon the deck of the Brandt and made fast the lineabout its foremast. Will Adams, running aft, snatched up a boat-hook,and, with that in his right hand and holding a revolver in his left,stepped aboard the Brandt. The boys, under orders, ranged themselvesquickly on the deck of the sloop, crouching low, holding the shot-guns.
Almost at the moment, there came darting from the cabin of the Brandt alithe, powerful figure, while the voice of Jim Adams called to Haley tofollow him. But he was a moment too late. Will Adams, swinging theboat-hook, felled the negro with a single blow, stunning him.
Capt. Hamilton Haley, tumbling up from the cabin, half dressed, foundhimself staring into the muzzle of Edward Warren's rifle. He dropped theweapon he carried, at the sharp command, seeing himself covered.
The crew of the Brandt, not over-loyal to Haley at best, showed noinclination to fight, under the range of fire from a battery ofshot-guns. They called out, in fear
, that they would give up.
They came forward, one by one, and submitted to being bound by JackHarvey, who performed that function in good sailor fashion.
But when it came to Hamilton Haley, Harvey found himself pushed aside.Tom Edwards stood before him.
"Jack, old fellow," said Tom Edwards, blithely, "let me have thesatisfaction of tying up that brute that made me slave at the dredges."
"But you don't know how," protested Harvey.
"Don't I, though!" exclaimed Tom Edwards, smiling. "Why, I used to tie upa hundred bundles a day when I worked in a dry-goods store in Boston. Putout your wrist, captain, I'll show you what a counter-jumper can do."
And Tom Edwards, with vast satisfaction, did up Hamilton Haley like apackage for the express.
They had not fired a shot--and the bug-eye was theirs. The cruise of theBrandt was at an end.
Next day, with Henry Burns recovered sufficiently to be about and ondeck, the two craft started northward, keeping close in touch with eachother. The skipper of the Z. B. Brandt was Jack Harvey; and he had amixed crew, made up of one or two of the Brandt's men that could betrusted, and Edward and George Warren. The Mollie still obeyed her helmdirected by stalwart Will Adams. Back they went over the waters they hadtravelled, running by daylight only, until they reached the upper watersof Tangier Sound. There a welcome police-boat relieved them alike of theBrandt and her former skipper and mate and crew.
A week later, there filed into a court-room in Baltimore a sun-burned,weather-beaten looking party, conspicuous among which were Jack Harveyand Henry Burns and Tom Edwards, and consisting otherwise of the Warrensand Will Adams. They confronted two men there, long notorious forwrong-doing among the dredging fleet. It was the beginning of the end forCaptain Haley and for Jim Adams, mate. They were held for trial. Thattrial, months later, had its natural conclusion. The doors of the stateprison closed upon the pair for a long term of years.
And, in the meantime, two days following the preliminary hearing incourt, a train rolled into Benton, bearing a party of youths at oncejoyous and serious. One of these, Jack Harvey, had parted for the timebeing from a friend whom he had met in adversity and whom he had come tolove as an elder brother. That friend was Tom Edwards, no longer clad inoil-skins and weary of life, but well dressed and well fed, and eager tobe back to the world of business from which he had been so rudelyspirited away. And it may be truly said that there were tears in the eyesof Tom Edwards, as Jack Harvey, grasping his hand to say good-bye, gaveit a grip as though he were turning the handle of Haley's winch.
There was someone at the train to meet Henry Burns, as well as theparents of the Warrens. It was a slender spinster, Miss Matilda Burns,who had the care of the youth. She wiped her eyes with a lace-trimmedhandkerchief, as she tried to look sternly at her nephew.
"Henry Burns," she said, "where on earth have you been all this time? Youhaven't written me those two letters a week that you promised. I believeyou've been off somewhere, away from that farmhouse of Mr. Warren's,where you were going."
"Yes'm, I have," responded Henry Burns.
THE END.