CHAPTER XVII

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AN ILL-FAVORED, RED-BEARDED ROGUE

"Bob, I think I've got the flag this year," remarked Cadet Lieutenant Blair, to his fellow three striper, Robert Drake; "everybody says my company is better than yours in artillery; I've an even chance with you at infantry—members of my company have had part in baseball and football games, fencing, rowing, tennis, gymnasium and all other contests. The second company, I think, will get the most points in seamanship, and I have more trained marksmen than you have. I've got you beaten, Bob, old boy."

"Don't you be too sure of that, Sam; the first company has a notion it wants to carry the colors next year; and look here, Sam, I'll put you on to something if you'll agree to keep quiet about it."

"What is it, Bob? I'll keep mum," replied Blair expectantly, impressed by Robert's earnest manner.

"The first company is going to try to win the flag, and I'm going to spring a big surprise on you."

"Pshaw! Is that your news? Perhaps I'll spring a surprise on you."

"Go ahead if you can, Sam, but I warn you now that I have done something toward winning the flag that you don't know anything about. It's in line with advice that was given to all of us months ago, and what I've done is perfectly proper and legitimate. I'll tell you frankly that because of special preparation I have made, I expect the first company will have a higher final multiple than your company will have."

"What was the advice you refer to, Bob? I don't recall any."

"By the way, haven't you been doing some special stunts in seamanship? Haven't some old boatswain's mates been giving your men some extra drill in handling sail?"

"Never mind about that, Bob; if I have done special work in seamanship I'm not bound to tell you what it is. But what was the advice you spoke of?"

"Sam, we'll be on the square with each other. I learned accidentally that you were getting specially coached in seamanship; well, I'm doing special work in gunnery. It's a fair field and no favor, and may the best company win."

"Good. Some of the fellows have been figuring up the points already known to be credited to the different companies; more than half of the points are already made, you know, and as it happens both the first and second companies are so far pretty close together; we're within ten points of each other to-day and no other company is within twenty points of either of us. Either you or I will win the flag, that is certain. And, Bob, if you win it I'm going to lead the cheering for the winning company."

"I appreciate that sentiment, Sam, and if you win the flag I will lead the cheering."

"Say, Bob, have you read about that kidnapping case in Baltimore? Some rascals have stolen a little boy named Georgie Thompson."

"No, I hadn't. Jingo! I hope they catch the scoundrels and get the boy back."

The two young men shook hands in the heartiest fashion and separated. There was intense personal rivalry between them, far more than their words expressed; it was a commendable rivalry; each was determined to make every effort to win the great prize, but each had a high personal regard for the other.

This meeting was on one of the Saturdays in May. Robert was now highly elated with the efficiency of his six-pounder crew. It drilled every day. Dummy six-pounder shells were thrown into the gun with tremendous speed and remarkable precision. There were now no slips, no jams. While this was proceeding Robert would be at the shoulder-piece, his eye at the peep-sight, aiming at some boat in the river. This was the nearest approach possible to actually firing the gun. And every man of the gun's crew was enthusiastically confident.

"Stone," said Robert, after dinner this Saturday, "I've permission to use a steamer this afternoon and I've got up a party to go up the Severn River."

"I'll bet Helen is in the party," replied Stonewell, smiling at his roommate.

"Of course she is; Mrs. Blunt is coming, and Glassfell and Farnum. Now we want you too."

"I wish I could go, but I can't," replied Stonewell, decidedly. "I've an engagement I can't break."

"Oh, rats, chuck your tailor for once—your measure will keep. But now I'll give you some information that will bring you along with us—Nellie Strong is with the Blunts; she arrived this morning and is going to stay over for graduation. Now will you come?"

"I can't, Bob, but I'll be out to the Blunts' house to-night."

"Pshaw, I counted on your going—what is your engagement; can't you put it off?"

"I really wish I could, but it's imperative; there's nothing pleasant about it—I may tell you about it later—I can't now."

"It seems to me you've been getting an extra lot of letters lately, Stone."

"Yes, more than I wish for," rejoined Stone rather bitterly.

"Helen and I went walking that Sunday afternoon, the Sunday you and I had intended going across the river. First Helen had an errand to do on Conduit Street and right ahead of us you were walking along. You went into a big yellow house."

Stonewell gave a start. "Well," he said, "what of it?"

"Look here, Stone, old chap, you have something on your mind that's bothering you terribly. Is there no way I can help you; will it do you no good to talk things over with me?"

"Bob, I can't talk; I don't pretend I'm not worried, but I just can't unburden my mind, not even to the best friend a man ever had," replied Stonewell huskily, with almost a break in his voice. He walked away from his roommate with agitated face, and gloomily looked out upon the waters of Chesapeake Bay.

Loud were the expressions of disappointment from Robert's friends when he told them Stonewell could not join them on their trip. They all got aboard the steam launch, which immediately started up the Severn River; the day was pleasant and all were in high spirits. The Severn River is most picturesque in its scenery. High, densely-wooded banks, irregular in outline, line its shores, and there are many indentations of little bays that lead into the river. Three miles above its mouth the Severn widens into Round Bay, a sheet of water several miles in diameter. And above this and emptying into it is a narrow stream, which is still called Severn River.

The launch steamed through Round Bay, and then entered this narrow stream. "Isn't this beautiful?" cried Robert. "Just look at this winding little river; I wonder how far up we can go. Say, coxswain, how far up this river can we steam?"

"If I knew the channel I could take you up to Indian Landing, sir," answered the coxswain; "some of our steamers have been up that far; but I don't know the channel, sir; I'm afraid we'll go aground at any minute."

"Well, can't you follow that gasoline launch ahead of us? The fellow in it probably knows the channel."

"Yes, sir, I can do that."

A covered gasoline launch was a quarter of a mile ahead. "Give me all the speed you can," called out the coxswain to the engineer; "I want to catch that boat ahead; this river has so many little turns that I'll have to keep close to that chap ahead." The engineer of the launch turned on a steam jet in the smokestack to force the draft and the little boat instantly responded and made a great fuss in increasing the speed of the engine.

"Why don't we catch up?" asked Robert, in a few minutes; "we are surely going much faster than we were."

"Because he has nearly doubled his speed, Mr. Drake," replied the coxswain.

"Hurrah, it's a race!" shouted the midshipman; "now let's see who will win."

The steam launch commenced to gain on the gasoline boat. The coxswain had been looking at the latter through a pair of binoculars; after a time he quietly remarked to Robert, "This isn't a race, sir; those men in the boat ahead of us think we are chasing them, and if I ever saw a pair of precious rogues in my life I'm looking at them now. Take a look at them, Mr. Drake."

"Well, no one would ever say they were pretty," remarked Robert after a good look at them through the glasses. "We are catching up with them now. Hello, they've stopped."

In a short time the steam launch was abreast of the gasoline boat. In the latter but one man was to be seen, and an ill-favored man he was.

"My! What a brutal-looking fellow," remarked Nellie Strong with a shudder.

"What do you want?" demanded the man, in a surly, sullen way.

"We were stealing pilotage from you, that's all," replied Robert. "We're going up this river and don't know the channel and are afraid of going ashore. Is there danger of that if we keep in the middle of the stream?"

"I hope you'll strike a shoal and stay there till the crack of doom. You've no business to go running after another boat that way."

"What's the matter with you?" called out Robert; "and why don't your two friends show themselves? It looks to me as if you're afraid of the police."

The man made an angry exclamation and the steamer passed ahead. "What an ill-tempered man," said Helen Blunt to Robert; "I wish he'd cut off that red beard of his; he wouldn't look so much like a pirate then."

"We won't worry about that fellow. Now I'm going up in the bow with a boat-hook to take soundings; we'll run slow and keep right in the middle of the river. But isn't it beautiful around here. Just look how the little river twists and winds about and how irregular the shore is; and there are lots of little creeks running into the river and little bays stretching out from it."

"And isn't it lonely?" rejoined Helen. "There is hardly a house or a clearing to be seen; it's a regular wilderness."

Robert went to the bow of the steamer, and taking a boat-hook thrust it in the water; it was quite deep enough, so he felt reassured about the boat's not going ashore.

"There's Indian Landing ahead of us," called out the coxswain. "I don't think we had better go much further; we've got eleven miles to run before we get back, and I'm afraid of getting low in coal."

"All right, put aback and return." And soon the steamer was headed down the river.

"Where's that gasoline boat; can you see her anywhere?" asked Robert, a few moments later.

"No, sir, we would have met her by this time if she had followed straight up the river. And that's odd, too. Indian Landing is the only place boats ever come to up here—she must be hidden in one of those lonely creeks."

"That's it, I imagine. There's something queer about that boat; it certainly had three ugly-looking men in it, and two of them didn't want to be seen. That bearded chap was a fierce-looking specimen."

"Say, Bob," called out Glassfell from aft, "mess gear is spread and we're waiting for you to pipe us to dinner, but we won't wait long—you'd better get here in a hurry."

Robert lost no time and immediately joined the others. An attractive lunch had been spread and was now attacked with energy; in the launch was a party of good friends, all in gay spirits. The day was delightful and when they finally reached the "Santee" wharf and left the launch it was unanimously agreed that a most enjoyable afternoon had been spent.

Early this afternoon Stonewell left his room, and unaccompanied went out in the city of Annapolis. He walked rapidly and before long was in Conduit Street, and without stopping to wait for admittance, entered a large yellow house. Two hours later he left and hastened to a telegraph office.

But Stonewell was not the only visitor that day who entered this large yellow house on Conduit Street. For at about eight o'clock that evening a man in civilian garb, wearing a moustache and heavy pointed beard, with a brown slouch hat drawn low over his forehead, and in closely buttoned sack coat, went to the same house, and without hesitation, opened the door by a pass key and passed inside.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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