Part 27 (1/2)

”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 a.s.sistance 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 ash.o.r.e 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 fis.h.i.+ng-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 s.h.i.+lling.”

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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.sume 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.