Young Captain Jack

H >> Horatio Alger and Arthur M. Winfield >> Young Captain Jack

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The doctor walked slowly toward the wreck, glancing back several times
to see if Old Ben was following him.

The colored man rowed away in a thoughtful mood.

"Somet'ing is on dat man's mind, suah!" he muttered to himself. "He's
gwine ter do somet'ing."

With difficulty the surgeon climbed up to the deck of the wreck. A
desolate spectacle presented itself. Everything was charred by the fire.

"Truly a nice place to come to," said the man to himself. "Now,
supposing this thing turns out a wild-goose chase, after all? Let me
see, the stateroom was No. 15. I wonder if I can still locate it?"

With caution he descended the companion way and entered the main cabin
of the stranded vessel. Here he drew from his pocket a candle and lit
it.

He walked slowly toward the side of the cabin until he reached a
stateroom bearing the number 7 upon the door.

"Seven," he murmured. "And the second from this is eleven. That shows
the numbers on this side are all odd. The next must be thirteen, and the
next fifteen."

He held the candle to the door, but the number plate was gone. Without
hesitation he pushed upon the door, which was already partly open. It
fell back, exposing the interior of the stateroom, now bare of all
things movable, and covered with dust and cobwebs.

"A dirty job this," he murmured, and set the candle down upon a beam
running along the side of a wall. He gazed around the stateroom
curiously, as if hardly knowing what to do next.

"The little closet was set in the wall at the foot of the bed. Now which
was the foot of the bed? I'll try both ends." He did so, tapping on the
woodwork with his knuckles. Presently he found a hole where there had
once been a small knob.

"The closet, sure enough!" he cried, and his face took on a new
interest. "Now where is that door-knob?"

He hunted on the floor, but no knob came to view. But a bent nail was
handy, and this he inserted into the hole sideways, and pulled with all
his force. There was a slight creak, and a small door came open,
revealing a dark closet about a foot square and equally deep.

If the room was dirty the closet was more so, for a crack at the top had
let in both dirt and water, and at first he could see nothing but a
solid cake of dirt before him. Digging into this, he presently uncovered
a heavy tin box, painted black.

"Eureka! the box at last!" he cried, in a tone full of pleasure. "I am
the lucky one, after all!"

He brought the tin box forth and brushed it off. There was a little
padlock in front, and this was locked. Bringing a bunch of keys from his
pocket, he began to try them, one after another. At last he found one to
fit, and opened the box.

"The papers at last!" he murmured, and his eyes gleamed with
expectation. "Let me see what there is." He turned them over. "The
marriage certificate for one, and letters from his father about that
property. And other letters from her folks--all here, and just what I
wanted." He shoved the documents back into the box. "The fortune is
mine!"

Returning to the closet he cleaned it out thoroughly, to learn if it
contained anything more of value. But there was nothing more there, and
presently he blew out the candle, hid the tin box under his coat, and
returned to the deck.

Ben was rowing not far away and saw the doctor wave his hand.

"Is yo' ready, massah?" he called out.

"Yes, Ben."

The colored man said no more, but rowed inshore, and in the meantime the
doctor hurried down to meet him.

"Did you find any gold, massah?" asked the colored man, his white teeth
gleaming.

"Gold! Why, you foolish nigger, what chance is there of finding gold on
a wreck over ten years old? The best thing you can do is to break the
boat to pieces and take the wood ashore for fuel."

"But de ghosteses, massah! Besides, Mrs. Ruthven wouldn't let us touch
dat wrack nohow."

"On account of the boy, I suppose."

"Yes, massah."

"To tell the truth, my man, I have now as much interest in that ship as
has that boy or Mrs. Ruthven. It brings back an exciting passage in my
life. My visit to the wreck was made to satisfy me concerning several
important questions. I was one of the passengers on that ill-fated
ship!"

"Golly, massah, yo' don't really mean dat?" And Old Ben's eyes opened
widely.

"Yes, I do. I suspected it before; now I am dead certain of it."

At this declaration Old Ben grew quite excited.

"And did yo' know Massah Jack's fadder, sah?"

"Yes, my man, I knew him very well," and there was a significant smile
on the doctor's face as he spoke.

"And was he a gen'man, sah? St. John Ruthven t'inks he was common white
trash."

"He was a gentleman of high family--the son of an English nobleman,
although born in this country."

"An' Jack's mudder, sah?"

"Was an American lady--a lady belonging to one of the first families of
Massachusetts."

"Golly, a Northerner!" and Ben's face became a study.

"Yes."

"Yo' must visit de house, sah, and tell Mrs. Ruthven 'bout dis. She will
want to heah de partic'lars wery much, sah."

"Yes, I will visit the Ruthven home," replied the doctor.

"Yo' know de way, sah?"

"I believe I do."

"I can show yo' de way, an' will do it willingly. So you knew Jack's
fadder an' mudder! Golly, but aint dat strange--after all dese yeahs,
too! Jack will want to see yo', ob course."

"And I shall want to see Jack," replied the medical man.

"Jack's a fine lad, sah."

"I am glad to hear it." But, as he spoke, the face of Dr. Mackey became
a study.

"Yes, sah; aint no bettah boy in all dese parts, sah."

While talking Ben was rowing steadily, and it was not long before the
pair reached shore.

Then the boat was made fast, the oars put away, and the doctor and the
colored man started for the Ruthven mansion.

CHAPTER XI.

MRS. RUTHVEN SPEAKS HER MIND.

Leaving the shore of the bay, St. John Ruthven walked slowly toward the
home of his aunt.

It irritated him greatly to think that his cousin preferred the society
of Jack to his own.

"I must speak to Aunt Alice about this," he said to himself. "It is
getting worse and worse."

He found his aunt sitting in the garden reading. She looked up in
surprise at his approach.

"Aunt Alice, can you spare me a few minutes?" he said, after the usual
greeting.

"Surely, St. John. What is it that you wish?"

"I wish to speak to you about Marion."

"About Marion?" Mrs. Ruthven looked somewhat surprised.

"Yes. I saw her out again in a boat with that boy."

"That boy? Do you mean Jack?"

"Yes. I wonder you trust her to his care--after what happened at the
wreck."

"Why should I not? Jack understands how to manage a boat. Marion is safe
with her brother."

"But he is not her brother," cried St. John.

"Not in blood, perhaps, but in affection. They have been brought up
together as children of one family."

"My dear Aunt Alice, do you think you have done wisely in encouraging
this intimacy?" he said earnestly.

"What can you mean?" she demanded. "Jack is fourteen years old and
Marion is eighteen."

"Of course. But you know nothing of the boy's parentage. He is an
unknown waif, cast upon the shore in his infancy, very possibly of a low
family."

"No, you are wrong there. Remember, I saw his mother. Everything
indicated her to be a lady. The child's clothing was of fine texture.
But even if it were otherwise, he has endeared himself to me by his
noble qualities. I regard him as a son."

St. John shrugged his shoulders. "You look upon him with the eyes of
affection. To me he seems----"

"Well?"

"A commonplace boy,--a mechanic's child, very possibly,--who is quite
out of place among the Ruthvens."

At this Mrs. Ruthven grew indignant.

"You are prejudiced!" she cried. "I will not discuss the matter farther
with you. I wish no one to speak to me against Jack. He is as dear to me
as Marion herself."

The young man drew a deep breath. "I am silenced, Aunt Alice. But I wish
to speak to you about Marion. She is no longer a child, but a young
lady."

"Yes, she is now eighteen," answered Mrs. Ruthven slowly. "But to me she
seems a child still."

"Well--er--at what age did you marry, aunt?"

"At eighteen."

"Then, Aunt Alice, you cannot be surprised if I have thought of Marion
as my future wife. I love her warmly and sincerely."

At this abrupt declaration Mrs. Ruthven was considerably surprised.

"Why, St. John, do you wish to marry that child?" she exclaimed.

"Why not? She is eighteen."

"Yes, but I had never thought of her as old enough to be married. Have
you spoken to her?"

"Yes," he returned slowly, and with a cloud on his face.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing--that is, she was taken by surprise and did not wish to discuss
the matter at present."

Mrs. Ruthven drew a breath of relief. "She was sensible. Have you any
reason to think that she loves you?"

"I think she will soon. I am not conceited, Aunt Alice, but I think I
have a good appearance and--I am a Ruthven."

"You are much older than she, St. John."

"I am, but a man of my age is still a young man."

"I should not object if she loved you, but I have never seen any
indications of it."

"Will you let her know that you favor my suit?"

At this Mrs. Ruthven shrugged her shoulders.

"But I am not sure that I do," she returned slowly.

"Have you heard anything to my discredit?" he demanded stiffly.

"No, no, St. John; but don't be precipitate. Let the matter rest for the
present."

"Well, if you insist upon it, Aunt Alice," he said, his face falling.

"It seems to me best."

"But still, Aunt Alice, if Marion allows her affections to drift in
another direction----"

"I do not think she will, for the present. She is more interested in the
war than in anything else. Why, if I would allow it, she would go off
and offer her services as a nurse."

"Don't let her go, aunt--I beg of you."

Mrs. Ruthven looked at her nephew curiously.

"What makes you so afraid of this war, St. John?"

"Afraid? I am not afraid exactly," he stammered. "I was thinking of dear
Marion. It would be horrible for her to put up with the hardships, and
such sights!"

"But somebody must bear such sights and sounds. War is war, and our
beloved country must be sustained, even in her darkest hour."

He trembled and turned pale, but quickly recovered.

"What you say is true, Aunt Alice. I have wanted to go to the front, but
my mother positively refuses her permission. She is in mortal terror
that the Yankees will come to our plantation and loot the place in my
absence."

"Do you think you can keep them from coming?"

"No, but I can--er--I can perhaps protect my mother."

"If you went off, she could come over here and remain with me."

"She wishes to remain at home. The old place is very dear to her. It
would break her heart to have the enemy destroy it."

"I should not wish our place destroyed. Yet the only way to keep the
enemy back is to go to the front and fight them."

"Well--I presume you are right, and I shall go some time--when I can win
my mother over," said St. John lamely.

He wanted to speak of Marion again, but, on looking across the garden,
saw his cousin and Jack approaching. Soon the pair came up and Marion
greeted St. John with a slight bow.

"We have been out rowing, mother," said Jack, as he came up and kissed
Mrs. Ruthven. "It was lovely on the bay."

"Did you go far?"

"We went over to Hoskin's beach. Marion rowed part of the way."

"I hope you had a nice time," said St. John stiffly, turning to Marion.

"We had a lovely time," answered the girl. "Jack is the best rower
around here."

"Humph! Why, he's only a boy!" sneered the spendthrift.

"Yes, I am only a boy, St. John, but I reckon I can row as good as you,"
replied our hero warmly. He had not forgotten the encounter on the road.

"Do you, indeed?"

"Yes, I do. Some day we can try a race. I'll give you choice of boats
and beat you."

At this Marion set up a merry laugh.

"I believe Jack can beat you at rowing, St. John," she said.

"I never race with boys," answered the spendthrift, more stiffly than
ever.

"I'll race you to-day," went on Jack. "And I've rowed three or four
miles already."

"Oh, Jack! you are too tired and the sun is too strong," remonstrated
Mrs. Ruthven, although inwardly pleased to see the lad stand up for
himself.

"I said I never raced with boys," said St. John.

"I would like to see a race," came from Marion. "I dare you to row Jack,
St. John."

"Let us make it to the rocks and back," said Jack. "And you can have any
of the boats you please. I dare you to do it," and he looked at St. John
defiantly.

"St. John may be tired. Perhaps he has been working," suggested Mrs.
Ruthven, although she knew better.

"No, he has been walking and resting along shore," said Marion. "We saw
him from our boat."

"I'll give you another advantage, besides choice of boats," said Jack,
bound that St. John should not back out. "I'll carry Marion as extra
weight."

"Oh, that wouldn't be fair!" cried the girl. "Let St. John carry mamma."

"No, I must decline to go," said Mrs. Ruthven.

"I'll take Marion, and St. John need carry only himself," said our hero.
"I am certain I can beat him. I dare him to take me up."

There seemed no help for it, so St. John gave in, and soon the three
were on the way to Old Ben's boathouse.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BOAT RACE ON THE BAY.

"I think this is a very foolish proceeding," observed St. John as they
walked along.

"I think it's going to be lots of fun," replied Marion. "The one who
wins shall receive a lovely bunch of roses from me."

"Then I'll win," said the spendthrift, and bestowed a meaning smile upon
her, which instantly made her turn her head.

They used a short cut to the beach, consequently they did not meet Old
Ben and Dr. Mackey.

When the boathouse was gained they went to inspect the four boats lying
there.

St. John knew the boats well, for he was by no means an unskilled rower.

He picked out the lightest of the craft, one which was long and narrow,
and also took the best pair of oars.

Marion was going to remonstrate, but Jack silenced her.

"But, Jack, if you have a poor boat, and carry me, too----" she began,
in a whisper.

"I'll beat him, anyway," replied our hero. "I know I can do it."

Soon they had the boats out.

Marion half expected St. John to invite her to enter his craft, but in
this she was mistaken. The spendthrift was afraid that the extra weight
would prove fatal to his success. Yet it angered him to have his cousin
go off with Jack.

"Marion, you ought to remain on shore," he said. "The race ought to be
rowed with both boats empty."

"Well, if you think best----" she began.

"No, Marion, you are to go with me," put in Jack hastily. "I said I
would row with you in my boat, and I will."

"But I am quite a weight----"

"Never mind; jump in."

As there seemed no help for it, Marion entered Jack's boat and our hero
pulled a rod away from the shore.

"Now where is the race to be?" asked St. John, as he followed Jack's
example and pulled off his coat.

"Let Marion decide that," said the youth promptly.

"Then make it to the Sister Rocks," said Marion. "Each boat must go
directly around the rocks."

"That suits me," said Jack.

"It's a good mile and a half," grumbled St. John. He had no desire to
exert himself in that warm sun.

"It's no farther for you than for Jack," answered the girl. "Come, are
you ready?"

There was a pause, and then St. John said that he was.

"And you, Jack?"

"All ready, Marion."

"Then go!" cried the girl.

The four oars dropped into the water and off went the two boats, side by
side.

St. John, eager to win for the sake of finding favor in Marion's eyes,
exerted himself to the utmost, and soon forged ahead.

"Oh, Jack! he is going to beat," cried the girl, in disappointment. "I
am too much of a load for you."

"The race has but started," he replied. "Wait until we turn the rocks
and then see who is ahead."

On and on went the two boats, St. John pulling strongly, but somewhat
wildly--a pace he could not keep up. Jack rowed strongly, too, but kept
himself somewhat in reserve.

When half the distance to the Sister Rocks was covered St. John was four
boat-lengths ahead.

"Ha! what did I tell you!" he cried. "I will beat you, and beat you
badly, too!"

"'He laughs best who laughs last,'" quoted Jack. "Marion, sit a little
more to the left, please. There, that's it--now we'll go along
straighter."

"I wish I could help row," she said. "But that wouldn't be fair. But,
oh, Jack! you must beat him!"

Slowly, but surely, they approached the Sister Rocks. Being ahead, St.
John turned in, to take the shortest cut around the turning-stake, if
such the rocks may be called.

"Too bad, Jack, you will have to go outside," cried Marion.

"Never mind, I'll beat him, anyway," answered our hero, and now let
himself out.

The added strength to his stroke soon told, and before long he began to
crawl close to St. John's craft. Then he overlapped his opponent and
forged ahead.

"Hurrah! you are ahead!" cried Marion excitedly, but in a voice her
cousin might not hear. "Keep up, Jack; you are doing wonderfully well."

Our hero did keep up, and when he reached the first of the Sister Rocks
he was more than two boat-lengths ahead.

He knew the rocks well, and glided around them skillfully, with just
enough water between the rocks and the boat to make the turning a safe
one.

"Now for the home stretch!" he murmured, and began to pull as never
before. He felt certain he could defeat St. John, but he wished to make
the defeat as large as possible. "He'll find even a nobody can row," he
told himself, with grim satisfaction.

To have Jack go ahead of him drove St. John frantic, and as he drew
closer to the rocks he became wildly excited.

"He must not win this race--he a mere nobody," he muttered. "What will
Marion think if he wins?"

The thought was maddening, and he pulled desperately, first on one oar
and then on the other. Around the rocks the waters ran swiftly, and
before he knew it there came a crash and his craft was stove in and
upset. He clutched at the gunwale of the boat, but missed it, and
plunged headlong into the bay.

When the mishap occurred Jack was paying sole attention to the work cut
out for him, consequently he did not notice what was taking place. Nor
did Marion see the disaster until several seconds later.

"St. John will----" began the girl, and then turned deadly pale. "Oh,
Jack!" she screamed.

"What's the matter?" he cried, and stopped rowing instantly.

"Look! look! St. John's boat has gone on the rocks and he is overboard!"
she gasped.

"How foolish for him to row so close," was Jack's comment. And then he
added, in something like disgust, "I reckon the race is off now."

"We must go back for him," went on Marion. "See, he has disappeared."

The girl was right, the weight of St. John's clothing had carried him
beneath the surface. The swiftly running water had likewise caught him,
and when he came up it was at a point fifty feet away from the nearest
rock.

"He will be drowned, Jack!"

"Help! help!" came in a faint cry from the spendthrift. "Help me, Jack!
Don't leave me to perish!"

"Keep up, I'm coming!" answered Jack readily, and as quickly as he could
he turned his boat and pulled in the direction where St. John had again
sunk from sight.

The spendthrift was but an indifferent swimmer, and the weight of his
clothing was much against him. Moreover, he was scared to death, and
threw his arms around wildly instead of doing his best to save himself.

He had gone down once, and now, as Jack's boat came closer, he went down
a second time.

"Oh, Jack! he will surely be drowned!" gasped Marion, and she placed her
hands over her eyes to keep out the awful sight.

"Look to the boat, I am going after him!" cried our hero suddenly, and
leaping to the bow, he dove into the bay after the sinking young man.

[Illustration: LEAPING TO THE BOW, HE DOVE INTO THE BAY AFTER THE
SINKING YOUNG MAN.--_Page 92._]

He had been afraid of bringing the craft closer and hitting St. John.
Now he struck out boldly, and then made a second dive, coming up close
to the spendthrift's side.

St. John wished to cry out, but the words would not come. Espying Jack,
he grabbed for the lad and clutched him around the throat.

"Don't hold on so tight!" cried Jack in alarm. "I will save you. Take
hold of my shoulder."

But St. John was too excited to be reasoned with, and instead of letting
up, he clung closer than ever, so that soon both were in peril of going
down.

"Let up, I say!" repeated Jack, and then, drawing up one knee, he
literally forced the young man from him. Then, as St. John turned partly
around, he caught him under the arms and began to tread water.

By this time Marion was at the oars, her temporary fear vanishing with
the thought that not only St. John, but also Jack, was in peril. With
caution she brought the rowboat closer.

"Catch hold there," said Jack, and seeing the boat, St. John made a wild
clutch for the gunwale, nearly upsetting the craft.

"Don't--you'll have me in the water next!" screamed Marion. Then Jack
steadied the boat, and St. John scrambled in over the stern, to fall on
the bottom all but exhausted, and so frightened that he could not utter
a word. Jack followed on board.

"Oh, St. John, what a narrow escape!" gasped Marion, after Jack was
safe. "I thought you would surely be drowned!"

For the moment St. John did not speak. He sat up, panting heavily.

"The race is off," said Jack. "Shall I go after your boat, St. John?"

"I don't care," growled the spendthrift, at last. "Where is she?"

"Caught between the rocks."

"Let Old Ben get the boat," put in Marion. "Both of you had better get
home with your wet clothing."

"I'm all right," answered the spendthrift coolly.

"St. John, Jack saved your life."

"Oh, I would have been all right--although, to be sure, my boat was
wrecked."

"Why, what would you have done?" asked Marion, in astonishment.

"I would have swam to shore, or else crawled on the rocks and signaled
Old Ben to come out after me," answered St. John.

He never thought to thank Jack, and this made Marion very indignant.

"Jack did a great deal for you, St. John," she exclaimed. "And he won
the race, too," she added, and would say no more.

Without loss of time Jack rowed the boat back to the landing and St.
John leaped out. He wished to assist his cousin, but she gave her hand
to Jack. Then the three walked toward the plantation in almost utter
silence.

CHAPTER XIII.

DR. MACKEY TELLS HIS STORY.

Left to herself, Mrs. Ruthven grew restless and began to walk around the
garden, examining the flower beds and the shrubbery.

She did not like what St. John had had to say concerning Marion. While
she did not exactly fear the young man, yet she had heard several
reports which were not to his credit.

"They say he gambles on horse races," she thought. "And I have heard
that the plantation is heavily mortgaged. Perhaps he wishes to marry
Marion only for the money she may bring him. And then it is not right
for him to remain around here when other men are at the front, serving
their country's flag."

She remained in the garden for some time, and was on the point of moving
for the house when she saw Old Ben approaching with Dr. Mackey.

"A stranger--and dressed in the uniform of a Confederate," she said,
half aloud. "What can he wish here?"

"Good-afternoon, missus," said Old Ben, removing his hat. "Here am a
gen'man as wishes to see yo'," and he bowed low.

"To see me?" said Mrs. Ruthven.

"Yes, madam," replied the doctor. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am
Dr. Mackey, a surgeon attached to the Fifth Virginia regiment," and he
bowed gravely.

"I am happy to make the acquaintance of an officer in our army, sir,"
replied Mrs. Ruthven, and held out her hand.

"I understand the late Colonel Ruthven was also of our army, and died at
a gallant charge on the field of Gettysburg," continued the doctor, as
he shook hands.

"You have been correctly informed, doctor."

"De doctor brings most important information, missus," put in old Ben,
who was almost exploding to tell what he knew.

"Is that so?" cried Mrs. Ruthven. "What is it?"

"I came to speak to you about yonder wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks," said
the surgeon. "The sight of that wreck has taken me back to the affairs
of about eleven years ago."

"So you were--you knew of it at that time, sir?"

"Yes, I was one of the passengers on the ship, madam."

"A passenger! I thought all of the passengers were drowned,--I mean all
but those who came ashore here."

"I was not drowned. I was swept overboard before our ship came into the
bay, and clung to a spar for hours, until the storm abated. Then a ship
bound for Cuba came along and took me on board and carried me to Havana.
The shock and the exposure were too much for me, and when I recovered
physically the authorities at the hospital adjudged me insane, and I was
placed in an asylum for years. Slowly my reason returned to me, and at
last I left the island of Cuba and came to the Southern States. This was
shortly after the war had broken out, and, knowing nothing else to do, I
offered my services to General Lee, and was accepted and placed in the
hospital corps."

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