Young Captain Jack
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Horatio Alger and Arthur M. Winfield >> Young Captain Jack
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Scarcely had the words left his lips when Jack brought down the riding
whip across the young man's shoulders and neck, leaving a livid red mark
behind.
"Oh!" howled the spendthrift, and gave a jerk backward on the reins,
which brought his horse up on his hind legs. "How dare you! I'll--I'll
kill you for that!"
"Do you take it back or not?" went on Jack, raising the whip again.
Instead of replying St. John reached over to hit the youth with his own
whip. But Jack dodged, and then struck out a second time. The blow
landed upon St. John's hand, and he jerked back quickly. The movement
scared the horse, and the animal plunged so violently that the rider was
thrown from the saddle into some nearby bushes. Then the horse galloped
away, leaving St. John to his fate.
CHAPTER VII.
A SETBACK FOR ST. JOHN.
"Now see what you have done!" roared St. John, as soon as he could
scramble from the bushes.
His face was scratched in several places and his coat was torn at one
elbow.
"It was your fault as much as mine," retorted Jack.
"No such thing. You had no right to pitch into me."
"And you had no right to call me names."
"My horse has run away," stormed the young man.
"So I see."
"If he is lost or hurt you'll be responsible."
"He is running toward home. I reckon he'll be all right."
"What am I to do?"
"That's your lookout."
"Get down and let me ride your pony home."
"I will do no such thing!" cried Jack. The little steed was very dear to
him.
"Do you expect me to walk?"
"You can suit yourself about that, St. John. Certainly I shan't carry
you," and Jack began to move off.
"Stop! don't leave me like this."
"You are not much hurt. Do you want to continue the fight?"
"I don't calculate to fight a mere boy like you. Some day I'll give you
a good dressing down for your impudence."
"All right; when that time comes, I'll be ready for you," returned Jack
coolly, and without further words he rode away.
Standing in the middle of the road, St. John Ruthven shook his fist
after the youth.
"I hate you!" he muttered fiercely. "And I'll not allow you to come
between me and my aunt's property, remember that!" But the words did not
reach Jack, nor were they intended for his ears.
There was a spring of water not far away, and going to this St. John
washed his face and his hands. Then he combed his hair with a
pocket-comb he carried, and brushed his clothing as best he could. He
was more hurt mentally than physically, and inwardly boiled to get even
with our hero.
Left to himself, he hardly knew what to do. He was satisfied that his
horse would go home as Jack had said, but he was in no humor to follow
the animal.
"I've a good mind to call on Aunt Alice and tell her what a viper he
is," he said to himself. "Perhaps I can get her to think less of him
than she does--and that will be something gained."
He walked slowly toward the plantation. When he came within sight of the
garden he saw Marion in a summerhouse, arranging a bouquet of flowers
which she had just cut.
The sight of his cousin put his heart in a flutter and made him think of
the talk he had had with his mother. Why should he not propose to her at
once? The sooner the better, to his way of thinking. That Marion might
refuse him hardly entered his head. Was he not the best "catch" in that
neighborhood?
"How do you do, Marion?" he said, as he strode up to the summerhouse.
"Why, St. John, is that you?" returned the girl. "I did not see you
riding up."
"I came on foot," he went on, as he came in and threw himself on a
bench. "It's warm, too."
"It is warm. Shall I send for some refreshments?"
"No, don't bother just now, Marion. I came over to see you alone."
"Alone?" she said in some surprise.
"Yes, alone, Marion. I have something very important to say to you."
She did not answer, but turned away to fix the bouquet.
"Can you guess what I wish to say?" he went on awkwardly.
"I haven't the remotest idea, Cousin St. John."
"I want to tell you how much I love you, Cousin Marion."
"Oh!"
"Don't think that I speak from sudden impulse. I have loved you for
years, but I wished to wait until you were old enough to listen to me."
"And you think I am old enough now?" she said, with a faint smile.
"Mamma thinks me quite a girl still."
"You are old enough to marry, if you wish, Marion."
"Marry?" She laughed outright. "Oh, St. John, don't say that. Why, I
don't intend to marry in a long, long time--if at all."
His face fell, and he bit his lip. Certainly this was not the answer he
had expected.
"But I want you!" he burst out, still more awkwardly. "I want to--to
protect you from--er--from Jack."
"Protect me from Jack?"
"Yes, Marion. You know what he is, a mere nobody."
"Jack is my brother."
"He is not, and you know it."
"He is the same as if he were my brother, St. John."
"Again I say he is not. He is a mere upstart, and he will prove a snake
in the grass unless you watch him. Your mother made a big mistake when
she adopted him."
"There may be two opinions upon that point."
"He knows your mother is rich. Mark my word, he will do all he can,
sooner or later, to get her property away from her."
"I will not believe evil of Jack."
"You evidently think more of him than you do of me!" sneered the
spendthrift, seeing that he was making no headway in his suit.
"I do not deny that I think the world and all of Jack. He is my brother
in heart, if not in blood--and I will thank you to remember that after
this," went on Marion in a decided tone.
"You will learn of your mistake some time--perhaps when it is too late."
"Jack is true to the core, and as brave as he is true. Why, he would go
to the war if mamma would give her consent."
At this St. John Ruthven winced.
"Well--er--I would go myself if my mother did not need me at home," he
stammered. "She must have somebody to look after the plantation. We
can't trust the niggers."
"Many men have gone to the front and allowed their plantations to take
care of themselves. They place the honor of their glorious country over
everything else."
"Well, my mother will not allow me to go--she has positively forbidden
it," insisted St. John, anxious to clear his character.
This statement was untrue; he had never spoken to his mother on the
subject, thinking she might urge him to go to the front. His plea that
he must look after the plantation was entirely of his own making.
"Supposing we should lose in this struggle--what will become of your
plantation then?"
At this St. John grew pale.
"I--I hardly think we will lose," he stammered. "We have plenty of
soldiers."
"But not as many as the North has. General Lee could use fifty thousand
more men, if he could get them."
"Well, I shall go to the front when I am actually needed, Marion; you
can take my word on that. But won't you listen to what I have told you
about my feeling for you?"
"No, St. John; I am too young to fall in love with anybody. I shall at
least wait until this cruel war is over."
"But I can hope?"
She shook her head. Then she picked up her bouquet.
"Will you come up to the house with me?"
"Not now, Marion. Give my respects to my aunt and tell her I will call
in a day or two again. And, by the way, Marion, don't let her think hard
of me because of Jack. I desire only to see to it that the boy does not
do you mischief."
"As I said before, I will listen to nothing against dear Jack, so
there!" cried Marion, and stamping her foot, she hurried toward the
house.
St. John Ruthven watched her out of sight, then turned and stalked off
toward the roadway leading to his home.
"She evidently does not love me as I thought," he muttered to himself.
"And I made a mess of it by speaking ill of Jack. Confound the luck!
What had I best do now? I wish I could get that boy out of the way
altogether, I really do."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HOME GUARDS OF OLDVILLE.
The week to follow the events recorded in the last chapter was a trying
one for the inhabitants of Oldville, as the district around the
Ruthvens' plantation was called.
The army of the North had pressed the army of the South back steadily
day after day, until the Confederates were encamped less than four miles
away from Jack's home. For two days the cannon-firing could be
distinctly heard, and the women folks were filled with dread, thinking
the invaders from the North were about to swoop down upon their homes
and pillage them.
"Oh, Jack! do you think they will come here?" was the question Marion
asked at least a dozen times.
"They had better not," was the sturdy reply. "If they do, they will find
that even a boy can fight."
"But you could do nothing against an army, Jack."
"Perhaps not. But I'll do what I can to protect you and mother."
"Old Ben told me that you and Darcy Gilbert were organizing a Home
Guard."
"Yes; we have organized a company of boys. We have twenty-three members,
and I am the captain," answered Jack, with just a bit of pride in his
tones.
"Then you are Captain Jack!" exclaimed Marion. "Let me congratulate you,
captain. But have you any weapons?"
"Yes. I have an old sword and also a pistol, and all of the others have
pistols or guns. I think, if we were put to it, we might do our enemy
some damage."
"No doubt, since I know you and Darcy can shoot pretty straight. You
ought to ask St. John to join the command."
"Not much, Marion! Don't you know that St. John is a coward at heart,
even if he is a man?"
"Yes, I know it. One of the colored help on his plantation told Old Ben
that the cannon-firing so close at hand made him so uneasy he couldn't
eat or sleep."
"Is it possible! Now the cannon-firing simply makes me crazy to be at
the front, to see what is going on, and to take part."
"Then you must be a born soldier, Jack." Marion heaved a sigh. "Oh, I
wish this war was over! Why must the men of the South and the North kill
each other?"
"The world has always had wars and always will, I reckon. Do you want to
come to town and see us drill?"
"Will it be safe?"
"I think so, Marion. I don't believe the enemy are coming here very
soon."
Soon after this Jack and Marion were on their way to Oldville, a sleepy
town containing two general stores, a tavern, and a blacksmith shop.
In front of the tavern was a large green, and here a number of boys were
playing various games.
"Hurrah, here comes Captain Jack!" was the cry, when our hero appeared.
"Are we to drill to-day?" questioned Darcy Gilbert, as he ran up and
nodded to Marion.
"If you will," said Jack. His new honors had not made him in the least
dictatorial.
"All right," returned Darcy.
He was first lieutenant of the company, which had styled itself the
Oldville Home Guard, and he quickly summoned the young soldiers
together.
All had uniforms, made of regular home suits with stripes of white sewed
down the trouser-legs and around the coat-sleeves. The boys with pistols
were placed in the front rank, those with guns in the second rank. One
lad had a drum and another a fife.
"Company, attention!" ordered Jack, coming to the front with drawn
sword, and the boys drew up in straight rows across the green. The drum
rattled, and presently quite a crowd of old men, women, and children
collected to see the drill.
"Carry--arms!" went on Jack, and the guns came to a carry, and likewise
the pistols. "Present--arms! Shoulder--arms! Forward--march!"
"Dum! dum! dum, dum, dum!" went the drummer, and off marched the company
to the end of the green.
"Right--wheel!" came the next command, and the boys wheeled with the
order of a veteran body, for each was enthusiastic to do his best.
"Forward!" and they marched on again, and so the marching kept up until
the square had been covered several times.
"Halt!" Thus the commanding went on. "Load! Take aim! Fire!"
And twenty-odd gun and pistol hammers came down with a sharp clicking,
for none of the weapons were loaded, the boys saving their powder and
ball until such time as they might actually be needed. A short parade
around the main streets followed, and then Jack dismissed the company.
"It was splendid!" cried Marion enthusiastically. "I declare, Jack, how
did you ever get them drilled so nicely?"
"Oh! the fellows take to it naturally. Besides, Darcy did as much as I
did."
"No, Jack is our chief drillmaster," put in Darcy. "He takes to
soldiering as a duck takes to a pond."
"It's wonderful. Still, I hope you never have to go to war," concluded
Marion.
"If we do, we'll try to give a good account of ourselves," said Darcy,
as Marion walked away.
"Indeed we will!" cried our hero.
Now she was in town Marion concluded to do some shopping, and
accordingly made her way to one of the general stores, a place kept by
Lemuel Blackwood, one of the oldest merchants in that part of the State.
Blackwood's store was usually crowded with goods of every description,
but the war had all but wrecked his trade, and his stock was scanty and
shop-worn.
"How do you do, Marion?" said he, when the girl entered. He had known
her from childhood.
"How do you do, Mr. Blackwood?" she returned.
"Pretty fairly, for an old man, Marion. That is, so far as my health
goes. Business is very poor, though."
"The war has taken the people's money."
"Yes, yes! It is awful! Sometimes I think it will never end."
"Do you think we will win, Mr. Blackwood?"
At this the old man shook his head slowly.
"I used to hope so, Marion. But now--the most of our best soldiers have
been shot down. The North can get new recruits, but we don't seem to
have many more men to go to the front."
"Have you any more calico like that which I got a few weeks ago?"
"No, I can't get a single piece, no matter how hard I try."
"What have you in plain dress goods?"
"Nothing but what I showed you before. I tried to get something new last
week, but the wholesale houses had nothing, and couldn't say when
anything new would come in. Their business has been wrecked, just as
mine has been. Two of the best houses I used to do business with are
bankrupt."
"Then show me what you have again, please. Mamma and I must have
something, even if it is out of date. We'll wear it for the honor of the
South."
At this old Mr. Blackwood smiled. "You are a loyal girl, Marion. I like
to see it in a person, especially in one who is young. It shows the
right training."
"But supposing I was a Northerner," said Marion, with a sly twinkle in
her eye.
"It would make no difference in my opinion."
"You believe people should be true to their convictions?"
"Yes, no matter what side they stand upon. We think we are right, and
are willing to fight for our opinions. They think they are right, and
they are willing to fight, too."
"But who is right?"
Mr. Blackwood shrugged his shoulders. "Let us trust that God will bring
this difficulty to a satisfactory conclusion. If we lose in this war, my
one hope is that the South will not lose everything--that the North will
be generous."
"But they say Grant is a stubborn general. That he will demand
everything of General Lee."
"I cannot believe it. I have a cousin who knew Grant, and he said Grant
was not so hard-hearted as painted."
"Some say the South, if defeated, will be held in virtual slavery by the
North."
"Yes, some hot-heads say everything. I had such a fellow in here
yesterday; a surgeon in our army, who gave his name as Dr. Mackey. He
was ranting around, declaring that, if we lost, the Northern soldiers
would march clear through to New Orleans and loot and burn every
village, town, and city, and that neither life nor property would be
safe. His talk was enough to scare a timid person most to death."
"A surgeon in our army," said Marion. She had been told by Jack of the
meeting on the bridge. "What kind of a looking man was he?"
As well as he could Mr. Blackwood described the individual.
"Did he seem to have a finger on one hand doubled up and stiff?"
"Yes. Do you know him, Marion?"
"I know of him. He met Jack on a bridge some days ago and ordered him
off as if Jack were a slave."
"He appeared to be as headstrong as he was unreasonable. I have seen him
around here several times, but I cannot make out what he is doing here.
He asked me about the wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks."
"What!" and Marion showed her surprise.
"Yes. He said he had heard of the wreck and was curious to visit it."
"That was strange."
"I asked him why he wished to visit the wreck, but he did not answer the
question."
At this point some other customers came in and the conversation was
changed. Marion bought what she wanted and went out, and presently
joined Jack on the way home.
"It was odd that surgeon should want to visit the wreck," was our hero's
comment, after he had heard what the girl had to say. "I wonder if he
knows anything of the ship and her passengers? If he does, I would like
to interview him, uncivil as he is."
CHAPTER IX.
DR. MACKEY INVESTIGATES.
A few days later Old Ben was just preparing to go out in his boat when a
visitor appeared at the boathouse. The man was clad in the faded uniform
of a Confederate surgeon, and proved to be Dr. Mackey.
"Good-mornin', sah," said Old Ben politely, as the doctor leaped from
the saddle and came forward.
"Good-morning," returned the surgeon shortly. "Can you supply me with a
glass of good drinking water? I left my flask at camp, and I am dry."
"We has de best ob watah heah, sah," returned Old Ben, and proceeded to
obtain a goblet. "Does yo' belong to de army?"
"Yes, I am a surgeon attached to the Fifth Virginia regiment." The
visitor gazed around him curiously. "Is this your boathouse?"
"Kind o', sah. It belongs to de Ruthven plantation. But when my ole
massa--Heaben bless his spirit--sot me free, he gib me de right to use
de boathouse so long as I pleased. I lives in yonder cabin on de bluff."
"Ah! then you were one of Mr. Ruthven's slaves?"
"Colonel Ruthven, sah," said the colored man, with emphasis on the
military title.
"He is dead?"
"Yes, sah; killed at de bloody battle ob Gettysburg. He was leadin' a
charge when a bullet struck him in de head."
"Too bad, truly. Did he leave much of a family?"
"A widow, sah, an' two chillen, a boy an' a girl."
"I see." The doctor drank the water thoughtfully. "Did--er--I mean, I
think I have seen the two young people. They don't seem to resemble each
other very much."
"Well, you see, da aint persackly brother an' sister."
"No?" and the surgeon raised his heavy eyebrows as if in surprise.
"No, sah. Massah Jack is only de 'dopted son ob de late colonel."
"Ah, is that really so? A--er--nephew, perhaps?"
"No, he aint no kin to de Ruthvens. He was washed ashoah from a wrack
ten or 'leben years ago. I wouldn't tell dis, only it has become public
property durin' de las' two weeks."
Dr. Mackey started back. "Ha! I have found the boy at last!" he muttered
to himself, as he began to walk the floor.
"What did you say, sah?"
"It's quite like a romance, my man. I should like to hear more of the
boy's story."
"Dere aint much to tell, massah. It blowed great guns durin' dat storm.
De passengers an' crew was washed ashoah from de wrack, but de only ones
wot came to de beach alive was Massah Jack an' his poor dear mother."
"And the mother----" The doctor paused.
"She only libed fo' two days. She died up to de house, leabin' de boy to
Mrs. Ruthven. De missus promised to look after de boy as her own--an'
she has gone dun it, too, sah."
"Then Mrs. Ruthven doesn't know whose son he really is?"
"No, sah. De boy's mammy couldn't tell nuffin, she was so much hurt."
"But what of the boy's father?"
"He was drowned wid de rest ob de passengers."
"Hard luck--for the boy." The surgeon continued to pace the floor.
"By the way, what is your name?" he asked presently.
"Ben, sah."
"There is a dollar for you."
"T'ank yo', massah; you is a real gen'man," and Ben's face relaxed into
a broad smile.
"You were going out in your boat, I believe."
"Yes, massah. But if I kin do anyt'ing fo' yo'----"
"What of this wreck? Is it the same that one can see from the bluff?"
"Yes, massah, de werry same."
"It's remarkable that it should survive so long."
"Well, yo' see, sah, de rocks am werry high, so de most ob de storms
don't git no chance at de wrack. Dat storm wot put de boat up dar was de
mos' powerful dat I eber seen in all my born days."
"Is it possible to board the wreck now?"
"Oh, yes, sah! I was ober dar only a few days ago. De ship was struck by
lightning in dat las' storm, but de rain put out de fiah."
"I would like to visit the wreck. I have some time to spare to-day, and
I am curious to see how such a big vessel looks when cast up high and
dry on the rocks."
"I can take yo' ober, sah."
"Very well; do so, and I'll give you another dollar."
"I'll be ready in a minute, as soon as I gits my fishing tackle an' bait
out of de boat, sah."
Ben hurried to his craft. As he was lifting his things out he saw a man
strolling near. The individual proved to be St. John Ruthven, who had
come in that direction in hope of seeing Marion alone.
"Hullo, Ben!" cried St. John. "See anything of Marion to-day?"
"She dun went out in a boat, sah."
"With Jack?"
"Yes, sah."
"What, after that experience in the storm?"
"Yes, sah."
"I should think they would be afraid."
"Da aint so afraid as some folks is, Massah St. John."
"Do you mean that as an insult to me, you good-for-nothing nigger?"
"No, sah. I mean Miss Marion an' Massah Jack are wery stout-hearted."
"My aunt is foolish to let Marion go out with that boy. Some day Marion
will be drowned."
"Jack knows wot he is doin', I rackon, sah."
"You don't know him. He is thoroughly reckless. I presume as a nobody
his life isn't worth much, but----"
"I rackon his life is as sweet to him as yours is to yo', Massah St.
John."
"Can you take me out in a boat after them?"
"Sorry, sah, but I'se gwine to take dis gen'man out, sah."
St. John turned and saw Dr. Mackey standing near, the surgeon having
come from the boathouse to listen in silence to the conversation which
was taking place.
He had met the doctor at the Oldville tavern the evening before, and
bowed stiffly.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Ruthven," said the doctor; "but I am
curious to visit the old wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks. Perhaps this man
has another boat----"
"Oh, it doesn't matter, Dr. Mackey," answered St. John.
"You are evidently a cousin to Miss Marion Ruthven."
"I am."
"And a cousin to the lad named Jack."
"He is no cousin of mine--even though my aunt has foolishly treated him
as her son."
"Why foolishly?"
"He is a waif of the sea--cast up from that wreck; yet my aunt presents
him to the world as a Ruthven--when he may be of very low birth."
"Evidently you are proud of your name."
"I am proud, sir, for there is no family in South Carolina which bears a
better name. We are descended from St. George Ruthven, one of the
knights of Queen Elizabeth's reign."
"I congratulate you, sir, and I now understand how this matter grates
upon you. But permit me to state, the boy may prove to be of as high
birth as yourself."
"What, Jack? Never!"
"Do not say that. Strange things have happened in this world."
"But he looks as if he came of low birth," responded St. John haughtily.
"There I must disagree with you, Mr. Ruthven."
"Dat's de talk!" muttered Old Ben, as he eyed St. John darkly. "Massah
Jack's as good as dat coward any day!"
"As you please, doctor; but I shall hold to my opinion."
Dr. Mackey shrugged his shoulders.
"You have that right. Come, Ben, we will be on the way. Mr. Ruthven,
allow me to bid you good-day," and the doctor bowed stiffly.
"Good-day," was the curt response.
Soon the surgeon and Old Ben were in the boat, and the negro was rowing
swiftly in the direction of the wreck. St. John walked up the shore, but
presently turned to view the doctor from a distance.
"He talks as if he knew a thing or two," muttered the spendthrift to
himself. "Can it be possible that he knows something of the past, and is
going out to the wreck for a purpose?"
CHAPTER X.
THE PAPERS ON THE WRECK.
As the waters of the bay were quiet, it did not take Ben long to row Dr.
Mackey over to the wreck on the rocks.
"Be careful how you steps out, sah," said the colored man. "De rocks am
slippery, an' you kin twist an ankle widout half tryin', sah."
"I will be careful, Ben. So this is the wreck?"
"Yes, sah."
"I presume all that was movable in the ship has been carried off?"
"Long ago, sah."
"But the inside of the ship itself was not torn out?"
"No, sah. De folks around yeah is too afraid ob ghosteses fo' dat."
"Ah, yes! so I heard--at least, I would suppose so," replied the doctor,
in some confusion. "By the way, you need not remain here. I will visit
the wreck alone. You can come back in an hour or so."
"Wery well, massah."
"But don't forget to come back. I don't want to be left here all night."
"Don't worry, sah; I'll be back fo' dat dollah, sah," and Ben grinned.
"Oh, yes! I forgot about the dollar. Well, you shall have it when you
take me back to shore."
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