Fighting for fortune or, Making a place for himself
The balance of the trip to Landlock had to be made at a slow gait; so
slow that Dean and Marcus worried lest the _Warrior_ should leave the
place before they could get there.
So she would if it had not been that her usual ill fortune followed the
_Warrior_.
It proved that sufficient repairs had not been made at Millville so
that the packet was two hours late at Landlock, and Dean’s party had
over an hour to wait.
Jack fumed and fretted over this suspense, declaring that when they got
the new boat to running there would be no such “land-lubberish doings.”
Landlock is most peculiarly situated where a cove of the inland sea
known as Lake Seneca cuts into the shore in the shape of a huge heart,
high bluffs on the opposing sides overhanging the water. The town,
which does not contain more than two thousand inhabitants, lies at the
point of the shore line.
When Jack Carboy had seemed to exhaust his vocabulary of invectives
against the tardy boat, it came into sight, and with provoking slowness
reached the pier.
In the bustle and excitement Dean caught sight of Colonel Darringford
and his scapegrace son, the former showing deeply the effects of his
potations of liquor and his anger at the delays already made in the
passage.
The captain had declared that it would be impossible to continue the
trip without further repairs, and he had reluctantly consented to an
hour’s stop at Landlock for this purpose.
As Dean’s party went aboard Rodney Darringford stared insolently at
them, while Tim Downey, in the background, watched them as a cat
watches a mouse it is about to pounce upon.
“Wonder where they picked up that tenderfoot,” he asked aside of Rodney.
“Don’t know. Perhaps he is going to work on the new boat.”
“Mebbe. Say, don’t that miserable top of a Mercer carry a high head,
though?”
“Higher’n he will to-morrow, according to my calculations. Say, I have
given them stateroom Number 40.”
“The one with the secret opening?” asked Tim, while a look of delight
swept over his countenance.
“The same. I do not think I need to tell you what there is for you to
do, if you are going to follow this matter up.”
“I am. I’ll take stateroom Number 41,” and the youthful plotter turned
away with a wicked smile on his lips.
Keeping far enough away so as not to attract their attention, he
watched the three until they went to their quarters, when Tim Downey
was not seen again for more than an hour. Then he sought his associate
in crime, Rodney Darringford.
The _Warrior_ was again moving laboriously toward her destination,
with a fair prospect of finishing the trip in safety.
“Well?” asked Rodney.
“That secret opening just let me overhear and see all they said and
done,” said Tim. “That strange kid is the boy of Rob Ellison, whose
case has been handled by ol’ Montague at Millville. It seems they hev
got hold of some papers that are going to clear the kid’s daddy, and
Dean Mercer had ’em, together with a thousand dollars.”
“A thousand dollars?” demanded young Darringford, a look of greed
coming into his eyes.
“Yes. Ye jess wait and hol’ yer tongue, fer there’s sumthin bigger’n
thet coming. Mercer has handed thet money and ’em papers over to the
kid.”
“We must get the money,” affirmed Rodney, unable to remain silent.
“Shet yer jaw,” muttered Tim. “How do you think I’m going to chin so’s
to make mysel’ heard with your potato trap rattling all the time.”
This impudent speech succeeded in keeping the other quiet long enough
for Tim to say:
“Of course we are going to get it, and a bigger bundle o’ boodle
along with it. Now comes the hair-lifting part. Dean Mercer has in his
pocket, for I see him put it there a check for eight thousand dollars,
with which to pay for that new boat. Jess think o’ thet--eight thousand
dollars!”
Tim’s eyes did not show greater expression of greedy anticipation than
did Rodney Darringford, as he caught him by the arm, saying in a husky
tone:
“Is that all, Tim?”
“As if thet isn’t enough.”
“But did you find out how he is pay over this check and take possession
of the boat?”
“He’s to go to Brown, Sewall and Company, and pay over the check in
the morning. I think he and that ol’ salt are to stay on the steamer
to-night, but the Ellison kid is to go to his stopping place to-night,
as soon as we get to Springfield.”
Rodney Darringford was silent for what seemed a long time to Tim
Downey. Then he leaped to his feet, saying:
“I have it. Nothing could be easier. We’ll cooper the whole game.”
“I’m fixed for the kid,” remarked Tim, who did not intend that anyone
should get ahead of him in schemes redounding to his benefit.
“By jove! no better than I am for Dean Mercer. I once swore the day
would come when I would get even with him for his meddling with my
affairs, and that day, or rather night, has come.”
CHAPTER VI.
THE EIGHT-THOUSAND-DOLLAR CHECK.
The _Warrior_ reached the city at ten o’clock that night, two hours
overdue, and Jack Carboy and Dean Mercer left the boat at once.
“Where going, Dean?” asked Jack.
“To a hotel, I guess.”
“Oh! no, to the boat.”
“The _Spray_?”
“Why not?”
“You know where it is?”
“Certain! The engineer is aboard now. I can’t sleep on land.”
“It is too late to see the shipbuilder or Mr. Durand, the lawyer,
to-night,” decided Dean. “Yes, we’ll sleep on the boat to-night. I am
very anxious to see it.”
“You will come with us, Marcus?”
“I do not feel as if I could. Mother will be anxious to see me, and I
must hasten home as quickly as I can.”
“That is right. You have the papers safely and the money. I hope there
will be no delay in setting your father free. Can’t you run down and
see us in the morning? The new boat will not start before nine or ten
o’clock.”
“Yes, I will run down; thank you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
So the boys parted, little dreaming what would happen to both of them
before they should meet again, and under what circumstances that
meeting would take place.
In ignorance of the keen watch kept over their movements by their
enemies they went their ways, while the young plotters began to hastily
carry into action their plans.
“You say the kid lives on Grove Street. That is well out in the
suburbs. By cutting across we can intercept him. You do this and hold
him up under some pretext at the corner of Ash and Midland Streets.
I will be on hand with a couple of officers. He will just answer the
descriptions given of that boy who has run away from the State school
for young criminals, and we not only turn him over, but get the reward.
That’s what I call making both ends meet.”
“Now get busy,” said Tim, when the precious pair separated to carry out
their plans.
As Tim was about to leave the _Warrior_ he was accosted by Colonel
Darringford. The usually austere owner of the boat appeared now very
much the worse for his liberal potations of liquor.
“See here, youngster,” he said, crooking his finger toward Tim. “I
wanner see you minute.”
“Yes, colonel,” replied Tim promptly, approaching the spot where the
colonel stood.
The latter was unable to stand alone, and held to the steamer rail.
“You boy who tol’ me ’bout new st--sthe--steamer, hey?”
“Correct, colonel!”
“Sure there’s one?”
“Dead sure!”
“Mustn’t be ’lowed to ’danger business prospix--pects, eh, boy?”
“No, sir.”
“You said you could stop boat, eh?”
“I did.”
“Do it, say nothing, and take the--that!”
The colonel made a dive for his pocket, and a lunge for Tim.
Tim allowed him to tumble pell-mell to the deck, once he had secured
the roll of banknotes that the colonel proffered him.
“I’ll fix the boat, never fear!” cried Tim. “Hooray! Two hundred!
Crackey! I’ll have a time of it!”
Rodney Darringford, curious to see what his father could want of his
confederate, whom he found useful but whom he detested as “a lowdown,
miserable wharf rat,” as he often called him, lingered while the above
conversation took place.
As he saw Tim about to hasten ashore, he called a deckhand to assist
his father to the cabin. A minute later, he had reached the wharf with
Tim Downey.
“Unlimber yer tongue,” said Tim, as soon as they reached the narrow
street into which Rodney had led the way.
“What did the governor say to you?”
“Ye don’t stop to think that it might be me who had something to say to
him,” replied Tom doggedly.
To speak the truth, he did not like this interference.
“You needn’t be so all-fired tongue-tied,” exclaimed the other. “I
guess it is as much for your interest as it is for mine to be sociable.”
“Jess as ye say, Rod. Only hadn’t we better ’tend to the kid fust. I’ll
meet ye at Jimson’s ’s soon ’s thet ’fair is done.”
“You are right, Tim. But don’t fail to be on hand. You know you will
want to get your divvy.”
Tim muttered something under his breath which the other did not hear,
and the couple separated each to do his part of the work they had
planned.
* * * * *
“Isn’t she a beauty?”
The admiring speaker was Jack Carboy, addressing Dean Mercer, as the
twain came in sight of the new steamer.
“She is very promising. Won’t they look amazed at Millville when we
reach there to-morrow, Jack? You say the engineer is aboard?”
“He should be, lad--I mean admiral,” executing one of his
characteristic salutes.
“Never mind how you address me, Jack. In fact, I had rather you would
call me plainly by my name. The judge made his only mistake when he
insisted that I should take command of the new packet. But he fairly
forced me into it.”
“The jedge may be better at sailing a court than he is a ship, but he
didn’t miss his bearings when he ran ye inter port. With ol’ Jack at
the wheel, ships and seas! but won’t we swing a breeze when we run
inter th’ basin up yonder?”
Though less demonstrative than his free-hearted companion, Dean Mercer
felt greatly elated over the appearance of the new steamer.
Dean and Jack finally tired of looking the steamer over, and they
sought the captain’s cabin for a few words regarding their future plans
before turning in.
They were thus engaged when a stranger was ushered into their presence
by the steward of the boat.
The newcomer was a middle-aged man, well-dressed, and gentlemanly in
his manner.
“Captain Mercer, I think,” he said, bowing and extending his right
hand. “Glad to meet you, captain. Hope the new boat pleases you. I am
Mr. Sewall, of the firm of Brown, Sewall and Company. You see I got
a letter this morning from Judge Oglesby, who said you were en route
here, and that by coming here to the _Spray_ this evening I might save
you a lot of trouble in the morning. He knew you must be pretty busy.”
While this announcement came most unexpectedly to the young commander,
he managed to greet the newcomer politely and invited him to a seat.
“I was here about sundown, but the _Warrior_ being late as usual, of
course I had my trouble for my pains. Tell you what it is, Captain
Mercer, you are bound to win with such a boat as this.”
“I think it is very satisfactory. Did you want me to pay you, Mr.
Sewall?”
“Why, no; that is, suit your own pleasure. Of course it would save you
a lot of bother in the morning, when I calculate you will not have much
time to lose. Again, it would be very convenient for us. I make these
as suggestions, you know.”
Dean could see no harm in settling the matter then and there. It was
true that it would save him considerable time in the morning, when he
would be very busy.
“Judge Oglesby gave me a check with which to pay the amount due you.
This I will endorse if you will give me a receipt running to him in
full for the sum.”
“Very satisfactory. I like your way of doing business, Captain Mercer.