Frontier Boys in Frisco
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"'Pull down our flag, Captain,' yelled John Singleton; 'let him come
alongside.'
"It seemed to me the only thing to do, and in a couple of minutes the
long gray _Shark_ had slipped through the smoke on our portside. Old
Bill could not resist the temptation to make some remarks before he
boarded us.
"'I'd like to know, Cap'n, what you, and your parcel of kids mean by
attacking me on the high seas, me going along peaceable, just enjoying a
fishin' cruise for my health. I'll take it out of yer blasted hide for
making me this trouble, and I'll baste them pretty boys of your'n to a
finish, or my name ain't Bill Broome!'
"'Which it ain't,' I says, and I proceeded to hand him out a line of
talk that kept him eager to say something else about my character.
"You see I noticed that John and Comanche had disappeared just as the
_Shark_ hove alongside, and I intended to give them all the time I
could, and I could of yelled when I see'd John creeping up behind the
Cap'n; and the next second he had felled him with the butt of his rifle,
and Comanche had done the same for two of the men who were standing in
the waist of the ship, joining in our previous conversation.
"Well, it wasn't ten seconds before I was aboard with four of my crew
and it was no time before we had possession of that ship. Now you see
the purpose of John Singleton in lowering the boat when he did. He had
used it to slip around the stern of the _Shark_ and to slip up on Bill
Broome and his crew."
"Great work," cried Jim, in admiration, "but what did you do with 'em
when you had them caught?"
"That didn't bother us long," said the old fellow; "we didn't want their
company, and we had to fix it so they wouldn't bother us, so we put
their engines out of commission, so they had to use their small sails;
broke their cannons, and threw all their ammunition into the sea, and
left them, to their own devices."
"Where is the _Storm King_ and her crew now, Captain?" asked the
engineer with evident interest.
"Cruising down in the South Seas, I reckon."
"Some time we may run across them, eh, Chief?" questioned Jim.
"Stranger things have happened," replied Berwick with a knowing grin.
"Well, I don't intend to let John Singleton beat me at the game with our
mutual friend, Captain Broome," remarked Jim, as he rose to his feet.
"The old chap was right enough," remarked Jim, as the two of them sent
the beautiful boat over the slightly rolling waters of the gray,
sodden-hued bay towards Frau Scheff's. "If money can buy her, I am
going to own this boat. There is no telling when we might find use for
her, if we ever go down into the South Seas."
"You want something bigger than this low, black, rakish craft if you are
going to be a pirate in the South Seas," remarked Berwick caustically.
"Indeed, yes!" agreed Jim. "I'm sure going to have the _Sea Eagle_ over
yonder," and he nodded his head in the direction of the open bay.
"When Captain Broome gets done with her?" questioned Berwick slyly.
"Perhaps sooner; I dunno," said Jim gloomily.
They beached their long, low, black craft on the sands below the
restaurant of Herr and Frau Scheff, and from that base of supplies laid
in a liberal stock of provisions, enough to last for a day at least.
There was some ham, a loaf of bread, butter and an apple pie. Sauerkraut
they had to politely refuse, for, as Jim said in an aside to his friend,
"There was no disguising their trail from the enemy if they carried
that." But they had plenty of other necessities, including tea and
coffee. They were also loaned a few necessary cooking utensils, and thus
equipped, they launched out in their skiff once more.
CHAPTER XXX
JIM BOARDS THE PIRATE
"Whither away, Brother?" questioned John Berwick, as they bent gently
and rhythmically to the oars.
"I thought we might lay alongside the _Sea Eagle_, and invite Brother
Broome to surrender," suggested Jim.
"All right, I'm with you, as I can't walk ashore," replied John Berwick.
However, instead of rowing straight in the direction of the _Sea Eagle_,
Jim bent a circuitous course around her. It was now growing towards
evening and a heavy fog was rolling in even then over the sea towards
the Golden Gate. The two comrades in a short time reached the western
shore of the bay near which the _Sea Eagle_ lay anchored.
Here they rowed slowly along, looking for some place to camp. At first
the shore was high and rocky, but after rowing for nearly a mile they
came to a small inlet where a tiny stream trickled down from a hidden
spring above in the woods. There were pines and sycamore trees both, and
altogether it was a delightful place for a camp. Jim's trained eye took
it all in at a glance.
"Here's where we haul in, John," he said.
"It looks good to me," agreed Berwick.
Indeed, it was an excellent place, well sheltered, and with good water.
The rest they had with them.
"What time are you going to make your attack, Jim, my boy?" asked
Berwick.
"I fancy any time between eleven and one would do," said Jim. "That will
give us time to get in a couple of hours' sleep at least. It's just as
well to store up a little rest. There is no telling what will happen;
when we once get started it may be a week before we get another chance."
"Correct," said Berwick; "which watch shall I take, Captain?"
"The first," said Jim, "if you don't mind."
"But I do mind," said Berwick quickly, "when I'm told."
While Jim sat watching some hours later, with everything quiet except
the gentle lapping of the water along the rocky shore, his mind reverted
to the incidents of the past few hours, but quickly changed to the
distant scene of his home.
"I wish I had Jo and Tom with me, and Juarez, too; it looks to me as
though there was going to be a change of scene soon, and then we will
need 'em by way of reenforcements." He brooded thus to himself over his
home folks and the chances of the future until it was time for them to
reconnoiter the enemy if nothing else was done. "I have given John
three-quarters of an hour longer than he expected," he said as he looked
at his watch. "It is now a quarter of twelve."
Berwick responded promptly to the call of time.
"Jove!" he said, "I don't see how you can pick up the _Sea Eagle_ or
anything else in such thick weather."
"It would not be easy if we struck out direct from this inlet," replied
Jim, "but I'm going to keep along the shore to a point that I made a
note of coming in, and then row direct out; we can't lose her."
They did accordingly, but they had to row very slowly, so that Jim could
be able to make out his landmark.
"There it is," he said. "See, here is a point of rock that juts out;
there is no mistaking it."
"What is your plan?" asked the engineer.
"There is only one thing to do," replied Jim; "we are not taking this
exercise for our health. We will drop along the _Sea Eagle_, board her,
find where the senorita is, and row her ashore."
"Are you sure she is on the yacht?" queried Berwick.
"Nowhere else," replied Jim stoutly. "You don't suppose that old Broome
would leave her in the castle after the alarm we raised. The reason he
didn't search for us around the premises was because he had gone off to
hide on the _Sea Eagle_."
Nothing more was said, and they rowed slowly from the point of departure
until they saw the faint loom of the _Sea Eagle_ through the night and
fog. There was a light astern and two forward, one on the starboard and
the other on the port, while a fourth shed a dim light from the
masthead.
There was no sound, whatever, and no figure in sight, which was not
remarkable, considering you could see no distance whatever on account of
the thick fog, but Jim was seaman enough to know that there was sure to
be someone on the bridge, and a watch forward. Berwick brought the boat
gently along the side near the stern rail and Jim was aboard in a jiffy.
Then the engineer pushed off for a few feet where he and the black boat
could not be seen, and waited in ambush for what might happen. He
believed that Jim stood a good chance to rescue the senorita, a much
better chance, in fact, than when she was held captive in the castle.
Once get her into the boat and they, too, would make sure of her safety.
Jim felt a thrill as he once more set foot on the well-known deck. He
felt strong enough to take her back single-handed, and what would he not
have given to be on the bridge again, with Jo and the rest of the old
crew on deck, and the _Sea Eagle_ pushing her nose out through the
Golden Gate, heading for the enchanted regions of the tropic seas.
But Jim took only a moment for such romancing. There was grim and hard
work ahead before he could ever be master of his own boat again. He knew
the ship as a hand does a glove, and in this there was a great
advantage. He cautiously tried the doors of the staterooms on the upper
deck. In one he made out the lean figure of the second mate in his bunk,
sound asleep. At that moment he saw the door of the captain's cabin
open. Jim glided aft and crouched low near the capstan, where he was
hard to be distinguished from a coil of rope.
He saw the squat figure of Captain Broome with the long, swinging,
gorilla-like arms revealed in the light which shone from the interior of
the cabin, and then he slammed the door and strolled forward towards
the bridge. Jim held his breath, hoping he would not come his way.
When the old pirate had disappeared, Jim completed his search of the
deck staterooms, but the senorita was in none of them. The only thing
that remained for Jim was to search the rooms leading from the main
saloon below. He rather mistrusted going down there, and he had most
sincerely hoped that the girl would be in one of the deck rooms, then
his task would have been comparatively easy, but it seemed as if luck
was breaking against him.
He went cautiously but quickly along the deck until he reached the
stairway leading down into the cabin. There was the large lamp lit in
the saloon, but turned very low. As he cautiously descended into the
saloon his heart went into his throat at the sight of the gaunt woman
with the red hair who had been the senorita's jailer in the castle. She
was apparently asleep on one of the divans, but Jim would have much
rather seen anyone else on guard than this redoubtable woman whose
vigilance had been his undoing before. It might have been possible to
have outwitted or defeated a man, but he really was in some awe of this
Amazon.
The first thing for Jim to do was to determine which of the four cabins
opening off the saloon was the prison of the senorita. He could not go
from one to the other opening the doors, for the woman on guard would be
sure to hear, nor could he say after the manner of children, "My mother
told me to take this one."
It was like the suitor of Portia in the "Merchant of Venice," who was
forced to choose his fate from one of three chests with misleading
mottoes on them. But there was no time to lose. Should he take a chance?
There seemed no other way. However, Jim was an experienced scout, as the
reader well knows, and his skill could be put to use inside of walls as
well as out on the desert or in the pathless mountains, where he might
be searching for some obscure trail.
He crawled over the heavily carpeted floor on his hands and knees to the
first door, but he found no trace to guide him. The second seemed to
reward his scrutiny, for the nap of the rug showed the imprint of feet
and the brass knob of the door was somewhat tarnished.
At that moment he heard the sound of heavy feet upon the stairway. He
knew that tread; he had heard it before. There was no hiding-place
except under the hanging of the heavy tablecloth, and with a quiet
celerity, Jim slid under its protection just as the woman stirred from
the divan, and then the captain's heavy, growling voice made itself
heard as he came down into the saloon.
"I'm going to pull anchor out of here to-morrow, Ann," said the skipper;
"it's jest about time."
"What hour, Brother?" asked the woman.
This startled Jim, who had not guessed that this woman was any relation
of the redoubtable Bill Broome, and that so human a word as "Brother"
could be applied to the old pirate had never entered his head. This
rawboned woman was quite the equal of her brother, and her life had
brought out that hardness and cruelty that is latent only too often in
the New England character.
To her question the captain replied, "Not later than four if we are to
get clear. I'm going into Frisco on a little business first."
"Do we take the gal?" questioned the woman, following his thought in
some obscure way.
"Then she is here," mused Jim.
"Part way, anyhow," he rumbled in his harsh voice. "Every day of bother
getting rid of her brings up her price."
Jim felt the hot blood of rage warm the roots of his hair. The
cold-blooded cruelty and calculation of it made him long to get hold of
the old codger. Perhaps he would in a moment.
"Git me something to eat, Ann, old gal," he said. "I'd better begin to
lay in ballast for to-morrow."
The captain took his seat at the table, and put his feet squarely on the
unsuspected Jim. Then came the explosion.
"By tarnation thunder, there's somebody under thar," he exclaimed,
rising to his feet.
Jim crawled from under as quick as he could, and with a sense of sullen
fury he saw the game was up for a second time. If he had cared to escape
without striking a blow he did not have a chance. As he emerged the
captain was on his back with all the ferocity of a hyena.
"It's that blasted young beggar again," he yelled. "We'll do him good
this time."
CHAPTER XXXI
THE END, A NEW START
Jim, well fed and rested, was up to his full strength, and to this was
added his fierce anger against the captain. Not on his own personal
account, but because of his heartless cruelty towards the captive girl
whom he had in his power and was holding for ransom. With a twist Jim
got hold of the back of Captain Bill Broome's neck, and by means of a
mighty wrench he got the old wretch around in front of him, breaking
free from his hold. Jim sent him staggering back.
As the captain, regaining his footing, rushed forward like an enraged
bull, Jim Darlington measured him with a crashing blow on the jaw that
sent him dazed against a sharp edge of woodwork that cut his scalp and
laid him out for the moment. Drawn by the racket, the first and second
mate came tumbling down, and joined in the attack, but Jim knew a trick
or two about boxing and surprised them with lightning blows that they
did not know how to block. He was hampered, however, by a lack of space.
Nevertheless, as they came to close quarters, jarred and bleeding, Jim
was able to fling them off, the sinews of his powerful frame working in
perfect unison.
Just at the moment he was free, he stumbled over the prostrate body of
the captain, who thus accomplished more by his prone position than when
he was on his feet and in the midst of the fray. At this juncture, the
Amazon sister jumped into the fight. She had run up on deck for a
purpose, when the fight started, and returned with a marlin spike. Jim
was so involved with the two mates for a few brief seconds that he did
not see her, and would not have paid much attention if he had, he was so
full of the struggle in hand.
As Jim stumbled, before he could regain his feet, the woman brought down
the marlin spike with a glancing blow on the side of his head. The boy
dropped as though dead. There was no doubt of the strength of the
captain's sister. She was evidently more than a match for any man
aboard, and it was little wonder that the youth lay like a log, the
blood streaming from a cut on the side of his head. He had not heard the
shriek of the senorita as she threw open the door of her cabin prison
and saw Jim lying almost at her feet.
As she stooped to his help (she was no hysterical girl to faint at the
sight of blood), she was thrust violently back, after a short struggle,
by the captain's sister, and locked in the cabin. However, she did not
weep or wring her hands, but she became suddenly, even ominously quiet,
her eyes shining in the pallor of her face with a luminous light.
Meanwhile, there was a council of war outside in the cabin as to the
disposal of their prostrate enemy.
Old Captain Broome had recovered enough to enable him to stand up,
holding on to the table, but he was still swaying somewhat, and was an
ugly looking customer with his cut face.
"Better put him in the hold until we get out to sea," said the Amazon
sister.
"I reckon he's done for this time," said the captain; "he oughter be if
you gave him one of your love taps, Anne," he concluded, with a ghastly
grin.
The woman bent down and coolly felt the boy's pulse, and pushed back the
lids of his eyes, with no more show of feeling than if he had not been a
human being.
"He ain't quite done for," she said, getting to her feet.
"Then he will be, durn soon," declared the old captain venomously.
"Here, Bill, you and Gus take him up on deck and throw him over. That
sure will finish him. One of you take his feet and t'other his head, and
Ann will give you a hist up the stairs. I'm too joggled to help any, but
I will give him my blessing as he goes over, that is, if you don't feel
too squeamish to do it."
The two mates laughed at this with great heartiness.
"I will say this for that young feller, he was some fighter," remarked
Bill. "I have handled some hard specimens in my time, but he was the
toughest yet. He handed me and Gus a couple of cuffs that made our jaws
wobble."
They got the limp figure up the stairs with the Amazon's help, but she
did not follow, but went below to get her brother something to eat as
his strenuous day had begun, and he stood in need of immediate ballast.
The scene just enacted might have been a daily occurrence from her
perfect indifference, as indeed scenes of violence no doubt were, but
none of the men could equal her in _sangfroid_.
Now they were on deck. Which way would they turn, to the right or left
rail. They did not know it, but it would make all the difference in the
world which side they would choose.
"I tell you, boys, you can throw him overboard in front of my cabin;
that would just suit me to the ground," said the captain.
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the amiable pair of mates.
It was accomplished in short order. There was a heave of the shoulders,
and then a heavy splash into the dark waters beneath. No one heard or
heeded a low wailing cry from the prisoner in the cabin. She knew what
had happened. She flung the small port hole open as Jim fell and the
water from the impact splashed into her face. Then to her unspeakable
relief she saw a black boat glide to where the figure came up, and she
saw that he was in safe hands.
With a quick motion she knotted her daintily-scented handkerchief and
tossed it into the boat as it swept by. It had her monogram on it, and
the engineer was quick to seize the handkerchief as well as the import
of it.
"I will give it to him, Senorita," he said in a low voice. Then the boat
was one with the darkness, and was gone from her sight, but she was
happy knowing that Jim was safe. She was not thinking of herself and her
own danger at the time, as is the way of some women.
John Berwick, the engineer, had had an anxious time while Jim had been
conducting his seance on board the ship, and it was his prompt action
that had saved his friend. It was some luck, too, that the three rascals
aboard had not sighted the slender dark boat, but they were dazed
somewhat, due to the effect of Jim's fierce attack upon them, and
likewise the two comrades deserved a little luck considering how
fortunate their enemies had been of late.
Berwick lost no time in pulling for the shore, and had no difficulty in
finding the outjutting rock which was the point of departure.
* * * * *
It was a full two hours before Berwick could bring Jim fully around, and
then the latter sat by a bright camp fire in the cove, pale and drawn,
with a handkerchief tied around his injured head. He was drinking some
coffee, but as yet he could not eat anything.
"Who was the guy, John, who first called women the weaker sex?" inquired
Jim, in a faint and injured tone.
"Some chump who probably died a sadder and a wiser man," replied his
friend.
"I only wish the gentle Annie back there had given him a tap with the
shillalah," remarked Jim.
Finally, by the time the fog thickened, Jim was himself once more and
the two comrades had determined upon their course. They had this
advantage in that they knew, from what Jim had overheard, something of
the immediate plans of Captain Bill Broome and his evil crew, and what
actually occurred will be fully and graphically told in the "Frontier
Boys in the South Seas." Furthermore, at this particular time, the
captain believed his enemy drowned beyond all possibility of a doubt;
therefore, he would not be on his guard against him in the future, and
would know of no need to hurry his departure.
"All aboard now, John," said Jim. He rose stiffly to his feet. "We will
row across the bay to the city and charter a fast craft to follow these
beggars. I guess there will be a surprise in store for those blooming
pirates in a few days."
"We are short of cash, Captain," remarked John; "I don't see how we are
going to get a boat."
"Trust to luck," said Jim; "it is coming our way I tell you. That was
the break when I wasn't drowned this morning."
It came out, the luck part, as Jim said, and yet it was nothing so
remarkable, for as they had rowed some distance on their way and were
between the shore and the _Sea Eagle_, John Berwick suddenly stopped at
a gesture from Jim.
"Hold on," he whispered, "there is a boat coming our way."
Sure enough, in half a minute a rapidly propelled boat shot into their
circle of the fog. It was pulled by two powerful Hawaiians and heading
for the _Sea Eagle_. In the stern sat the humped and well-known and
sinister figure of the Mexican dwarf.
"Halt, there," cried Jim. The two Hawaiians obeyed with indifferent good
nature.
"None of that, Manuel," yelled Jim, as the Mexican started to draw, and
himself leveling a revolver which they had captured in the castle. It is
true it had but one cartridge in it, but that was enough with Jim at the
directing end of it.
The Mexican wilted as he saw the game was up, and his transfer was
quickly made. Then Jim after a hasty and vigorous search, with a yell of
triumph, unbuckled his treasure belt which the Mexican had stolen from,
him on the train.
"What did I tell you about our luck, John, old boy?" cried Jim. "You
boys come along with us," he continued, speaking to the Hawaiians; "we
give you good pay and treat you right."
"Yes, yes," they agreed smilingly, adding, "Wele ke hau." This was their
native phrase of enthusiasm; in other words, their college yell.
So they took the place of the oarsmen in the black boat, and trailed the
other behind. They rowed with splendid speed and precision towards the
city. The Mexican laid in the bottom of the boat at Jim's feet, securely
tied. The tables were turned, indeed.
I need not weary you with the business details by which Jim Darlington
and the engineer got the boat they wanted, nor how they were joined by
Tom, Jo and Juarez, but at three o'clock one fair day the _Sea Eagle_
glided gracefully through the Golden Gate and turned her prow to the
southwest, and in due time thereafter a slender but powerfully engined
black boat slipped through to the open sea and on the trail.
And now, Jim Darlington, and your crew, the best of good luck go with
you, for we know you all of old, and we like you. Vale.
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