Part 23 (1/2)
To say that Tom Newcombe was delighted to find himself once more out of the cove and safely across the shoals, would but feebly express his feelings. He had never expected to see the bay again except as a prisoner. While he was in the cove and besieged by the students, he would willingly have disposed of his interest in the Crusoe band, and freely surrendered his share of the pa.s.sage money, if he could have wiped out the record of that night. He had not seen a single hour's peace since he joined Sam Barton's society. He had constantly been in some trouble or other. It would have been well enough with him, he thought, if the governor had not turned up again--Tom had a great habit of laying the responsibility of his misdeeds upon other shoulders than his own--and he had more than once wished that the spar which had brought Sam into the harbor had drifted the other way, and carried him out to sea, and that he had been picked up by some vessel and taken to China or some other remote quarter of the globe. In short, when the captain of the Crusoe band found that his voyage was in danger of being brought to a speedy termination, he had been very hard on the governor, and had felt disposed to look on the dark side of things; but now that he was once more bounding over the waves of the bay before a fine breeze, and with not a tug or sailing vessel in sight, his spirits rose again. He was once more ready to believe that the expedition might prove successful. After bringing himself safely out of all the difficulties he had been in that night, it would be singular indeed if he could not find some way to overcome the obstacles yet before him. There was no immediate danger to be apprehended from the students. Harry Green had been outwitted, and with proper precautions their other pursuers might also be avoided. He sent Xury to relieve the governor at the wheel, and ordered him to hold the schooner directly across the bay toward the main land. His plan was to run as close to the sh.o.r.e as the depth of the water would permit. It was dark in the shadow of the bluffs, and if there were any tugs between him and the entrance to the bay, he hoped to run by them unnoticed.
Now that the danger attending the crossing of the shoals was pa.s.sed, the Crusoe men could think about other matters. Tom and the governor, after exulting over their escape, pondered upon the failure of their plan for obtaining possession of the valise, and Atkins nursed his wrath against the officers of the band. The mutineer no longer desired the success of the expedition. All he cared for was to insure his own safety, and to be revenged upon the governor, Tom, and Xury.
”We'll never see Crusoe's island nohow,” said he, to himself. ”Tommy aint sailor enough to take us through a bay twenty-five miles long, with tugs runnin' up an' down it all the time lookin' fur us. We're bound to be ketched sooner or later. But just s'pose we do find our island! What fun will I see livin' there? It'll be Atkins, Atkins, all the whole time. Atkins will have to do every thing, and them lazy officers will sit around in the shade an' see me work. I aint a going to be a servant fur n.o.body, an' the best thing I can do is to leave the band. Jack Spaniard, come here.”
The governor was well enough acquainted with Atkins to know that, after what had transpired at the bridge, it was best to keep a close watch over him. When he saw him standing sullen and alone on the forecastle, he knew that he was brooding over his wrongs, and, when Jack Spaniard joined him, Sam was sure there was mischief brewing. He saw them engage in a whispered consultation, and, when he could stand it no longer, he walked up to them, and laid a hand upon the shoulder of each.
”See here, my hearties,” said he, ”what's goin' on? It looks mighty suspicious to see your two heads so close together. Be you studyin' up another mutiny? If you are, you can bear two things in mind: One is, that you will come out at the little end of the horn, just as you did before. The other, that you won't get off so easy, by no means.”
”We aint quite so foolish,” replied Atkins. ”What could me an' Jack do ag'in you four fellers? We were talkin' about that money, an' we've thought up a way to get it. Mebbe it won't work, but there's no harm in tryin' it, you know.”
The governor listened attentively while Atkins unfolded his plan, and said it contained some suggestions that were well worth listening to.
The discontented member did not, however, tell all that he and his companion had been talking about. He kept back some things which, had he repeated them to the chief, would have brought him into trouble immediately.
Sam went aft to consult with Tom, and presently the schooner's bow veered around until it pointed toward one of the numerous islands that lay near the middle of the bay. In reply to a question from Sanders, Tom said:
”We're going to land. It isn't safe to continue our cruise at present, for it is nearly daylight. There is a creek on Deer Island, and we think it best to conceal ourselves there until night.”
The governor and his men kept a bright lookout while they were running across the bay toward the island, but none of their pursuers were in sight, and, after coasting along the sh.o.r.e for a short distance, the Sweepstakes entered the creek of which Tom had spoken. Half an hour afterward she was snugly hidden in the bushes that grew in the water along the edge of the bank, and her crew were stretched out on the deck, sleeping soundly, after their night of excitement and adventure--all except Will Atkins, who had been ordered to keep awake and watch for the enemy. This was another injustice that the mutineer declared he would not submit to. Wasn't he as sleepy as the others? and was there no one in the band except himself who could stand watch? Because Tom, Sam, and Xury were officers, was it any reason why they should s.h.i.+rk their share of the work? Atkins could not see that it was, and he told himself that he was about to do something that would make ample amends for all he had endured at their hands.
But keeping a lookout for their pursuers was not the only duty Atkins was expected to perform. He had a difficult and dangerous task to accomplish, and one that he would rather had fallen to the lot of some other member of the band. While he paced up and down the deck he thought more of the pa.s.sengers and their money than he did of the tugs that might at any moment come steaming up the creek. The robbers lay upon the forecastle, Sanders with the valise under his head for a pillow, and both of them were snoring loudly. Atkins was sure they were sound asleep, but he was too wary to ruin his plans by being in too great a hurry. He allowed an hour to pa.s.s before he made any attempt to secure the valise--that was the extra duty he was expected to perform--and then he went about his work very cautiously. With a step that would not have awakened a cricket, he crossed the deck and took his stand beside the rail, within easy reach of the robbers. After a.s.suring himself that there was no sham about their sleep, he placed his foot against the valise and began pus.h.i.+ng it from under Sanders's head. Slowly and cautiously was the movement executed, Atkins scarcely daring to breathe the while, lest it should arouse the robber, and, at last, he had the satisfaction of seeing Sanders's head roll down upon the deck. Quick as a flash Atkins's foot came back beside the other, and if the burglar had awakened then he would have seen him leaning over the rail, gazing into the bushes ahead of the vessel, and looking as innocent as a boy of that kind could look. But Sanders was not aroused. Wearied with his night's work, he still snored l.u.s.tily, and Atkins congratulated himself on having accomplished the most dangerous part of his undertaking.
The next step was to arouse the band. He did not touch the valise again, but left it lying on the deck and crept to the place where the governor was sleeping. ”Sam,” he whispered, ”it's all right. I've got the money.”
”No!” exclaimed the governor, starting up and rubbing his eyes. ”Where is it?”
”I left it layin' close to him, so that if he wakes up before we are ready to start he will think that his head rolled off of its own accord.”
”You're a brick,” said the governor, approvingly. ”This 'most makes me forget that you were a mutineer. Call the other fellers an' we'll be off.”
Atkins was on the point of obeying this order when, to the intense chagrin of both the Crusoe men, Sanders awoke with a start, and, raising himself on his elbow, looked about him. Seeing the governor on his feet he inquired:
”What's going on there?”
”Nothing,” replied Sam, ”only I must take my turn standin' watch now.”
The robber raised a pair of very sleepy-looking eyes toward the clouds, remarked that it was pretty near daylight, and then, pulling the valise under his head, went off into the land of dreams again.
”Did you ever see such luck?” growled Atkins. ”The whole thing must be done over again.”
”Well, you can do it, can't you?” asked Sam.
”I reckon I could, but I just aint a goin' to try. You told me to get the valise out from under his head an' call you, an' I done it. 'Taint my fault that he woke up. If you want any thing more done you can do it yourself.”
”I guess I am as good a hand at that kind of business as you are,” said the chief. ”Let's call up the other fellers, so that if I get the valise we can start to onct.”
The Crusoe men were quietly aroused, but still remained stretched out on the deck, watching the governor, and ready to move when he gave the word. He approached the robber with more fear and trembling than he had ever before exhibited in the presence of the members of the band, for he could not help thinking of what would be done to him if the burglar should chance to awake and find him meddling with his pillow. Sanders had had nothing to say when Sam ran away with his valise in the cove, but he had looked very savage, and the governor did not care to be caught in the act of robbing him. He was a long time at his work, but finally the burglar's head rolled down on the deck again, and Sam hastily picked up the valise and joined his companions. They followed him to the stern, let themselves silently down into the water, and swam after the governor, who, holding his prize above his head with one hand, struck out for the farthest sh.o.r.e with the other. They all cast frequent and anxious glances over their shoulders, and made their way through the water with all the speed they could command, expecting every instant to hear the bullets from the burglars' revolvers whistling about their ears. But nothing of the kind happened. Sanders and his companion slept on, all unconscious of their loss, and the Crusoe men crossed the creek in safety and disappeared among the bushes that lined the bank. Tom Newcombe's idea had been successfully carried out, and Atkins was the one who had suggested the way.
The governor and his band would perhaps have been astonished to know that, while they were revenging themselves upon the robbers, they were playing into the hands of one of their pursuers. But it turned out that such was the fact; and if Johnny Harding, who was at that moment standing on the deck of the Storm King, disappointed and utterly disheartened, could have received intelligence of what had just transpired on the deck of the pirate vessel, he would have danced for joy. Johnny was not one who made loud boasts of what he intended to do.
He possessed quite as much courage as the majority of his fellows, but he did not deny that he was afraid of the robbers. He even confessed that if he should overtake them he would be at a loss to know how to recover the money. But there was no one in the Crusoe band that he was afraid of, and if he had known that his employer's property was in possession of the governor, he would have been certain of success.
”We're even with them fellers now,” said the chief, as he and his men concealed themselves in a thicket of bushes, from which they could watch the schooner without being observed themselves. ”We'll larn 'em how to swindle us. Five thousand dollars! That's a heap of money, aint it, fellers?”