THE LAME MAN’S CONFESSION

“Come, Tom, let’s go aboard,” said the lieutenant, as soon as the boat that carried the prisoners was well away down the creek. “A quartermaster can finish up what there is to do here, and I’m anxious to let you boys get away on your sporting trip as soon as possible; but I simply can’t let you go till—till we finish the matter you spoke of just now. If we can manage that to-night I’ll send you on your way rejoicing as early to-morrow morning as you please.”

“Thank you for all of us,” said Tom, as the two, with the lame man and his guards, seated themselves in the waiting boat; “but you mustn’t think this thing has interfered with us. It has been right in our line and strictly according to the programme.”

“How is that?” the lieutenant asked, enjoying Tom’s evident relish for the experience he had just gone through.

“Why, you see we set out not merely for sport, but with the declared purpose of seeking ‘sport and adventure.’ This thing has been sport to us, and you’ll not deny that it has had a distinct flavor of adventure in it.”

“Tom, you ought to be a sailor or a soldier,” was the officer’s only reply.

As soon as they went aboard the lieutenant ordered the lame man taken to his own cabin and the rest of the prisoners to the forehold under a strong guard. When the other boys, who were closely following, came over the side, he invited the four to go with him to his quarters.

“Stop a minute, though. Tell me just what you’ve arranged, Tom, so that I may know how to proceed.”

“Well, I’ve drawn a little information out of the lame man and got him to promise more—all he knows in fact, and that seems to be a good deal. These outlaws are only the agents of conspirators ‘higher up,’ as the phrase goes—ruffians hired by the conspirators to do the work and take the risks, while the men higher up pocket all the proceeds except the pittance allowed to their hired outlaws. The red-faced bully down there, who acts as captain of the band, seems to be an exception to all this. According to the lame man, that burly brute was the originator of the conspiracy, he and some man named Pedro Mendez.”

“What? Pedro Mendez?” interrupted the lieutenant.

“That’s the name the lame man mentioned. Do you know Pedro, or know who he is?”

“I should say I do. He’s—by the way, he’s the owner of the good ship Senorita, from whose cargo some of the smuggled goods came! Wait a minute.”

The officer pressed a button and a subordinate promptly appeared to receive orders.

“Tell Mr. Chisolm to get the ship under way as soon as all the boats are aboard, and steam at full speed for Beaufort.”

When the orderly had disappeared, the lieutenant exclaimed:

“I must get to a telegraph office before morning, and we’ll have the smiling Pedro under arrest in Baltimore before another night comes. Go on, Tom! This is the biggest haul made in ten years and we have you boys to thank for it. Go on, please.”

“There isn’t much more for me to tell. The lame man will tell the rest. He has a grudge against the red-faced captain—a life and death enmity—I should say—and it is chiefly to get his foe into all possible trouble that he is willing to tell all he knows. I’ve assured him that if he gives the information necessary to secure the capture of the whole gang and the breaking up the business, the authorities are pretty sure to let him off easily.”

“That’s all right. Now we’ll go to the cabin and see how much our man can tell.”

What the lame man told the lieutenant has no place in this story. He knew, as Tom had supposed, practically all that was needed, and once started in his story he told it all.

It was taken down in shorthand as he told it, and after some difficulties with the pen the man signed it, the four boys signing as witnesses. A few days later the newspapers were filled with news of a “stupendous Revenue capture” and the arrest of a number of highly respectable men caught in a conspiracy to defraud the Government.

When the confessing prisoner had been removed to secure quarters for the night the officer shook hands warmly with the boys, saying:

“You young men have rendered a much greater service to the Government than you can well imagine, and as an officer commissioned by the Government I want to thank you for it as adequately as I can. It is not only that some smugglers have been captured as a result of what you have done, and a lot of smuggled goods seized. That, indeed, is the smallest part of it. This capture will make an end to this sort of smuggling for all time. I was sent here six weeks ago expressly to accomplish this purpose, and but for you young men and the assistance you have given me I doubt that I should ever have accomplished it at all, although, as you know, a half company of marines was furnished me in addition to the ship’s own force, in order that I might be strong enough for any emergency.

“Now if I talked all night I couldn’t thank you enough. Let me turn to another matter. I promised you to set you afloat at any point you wish, and I’ll do it. But I’m taking you to Beaufort now because I must get to a telegraph office. As soon as I possibly can in the morning I’ll steam to the point you choose.”

“Beaufort suits us very well, indeed,” Larry answered. “You see we’re short of stores and when we’re afloat again we’ll lay our course for a region where no stores can be had except such as we can secure with our shotguns.”

“What stores do you need?” asked the officer.

“Coffee, a side of bacon to fry fish with, two hams, and as many boxes of ship biscuit as we can manage to stow away in our boat. That’s all, except some salt, I think. I suppose we can buy all such things at Beaufort. If not, we can go without them.”

“No, you can’t buy them at Beaufort or anywhere else,” the lieutenant answered; “because I’m going to furnish them from my own ship’s stores.”

“But, Lieutenant,” said Larry, flushing, “your stores belong to the Government, don’t they?”

“Yes, certainly. What of that?”

“Why, we can’t let you give us goods that belong to the Government.”

“Oh, I see your scruple, but you’re wrong about the facts. It is a part of every revenue cutter’s duty to provision craft in distress, and—”

“But pardon me, we are not in distress. It is only that for our comfort we need certain supplies that we are perfectly well able to buy, and when we get to Beaufort a market will be open to us. We’ll provision ourselves, if you don’t mind.”

“I wish you’d let me do it. It is little enough, in all conscience, considering the service you’ve rendered the Government.”

“We didn’t do that for pay,” Larry answered.

“I quite understand that. Still I have full authority to issue the stores to you, and the disposition made of them will of course be set forth in my official report.”

“Thank you, very much, for your good will in the matter,” Larry said, in a tone that left no chance for further argument, “but we prefer to buy for ourselves. Then if you’ll have your men lower our boat, we’ll say ‘Good-bye and good luck’ to you and take ourselves off your hands.”

“That is final?”

“Yes—final.”

“Very well. It shall be as you say. But I’m sorry you won’t let me do even so small a thing as that by way of showing you my gratitude.”

A little later Larry sought out the lieutenant on deck.

“I’ll tell you what you may do for us, Lieutenant, if you are still so minded.”

“Of course I am. I’ll do whatever you suggest. What is it?”

“Why, write a brief letter to Tom and let me have it for delivery after we get away from Beaufort. He’ll cherish that as long as he lives, and you see after all it was Tom who did it all. He first found the smugglers’ camp and investigated it; he made the later reconnoissance on which you acted, and he led the—”

“Say no more,” the lieutenant answered. “I’ll write the letter and give it to you.”

The lieutenant had another thought in mind; he did not mention it; but when at last the boys got back to Charleston, they found a letter awaiting each of them, a letter of thanks and commendation. Those letters were not from the commanding officer of a revenue cutter, but from the Secretary of the Treasury himself, and they were signed by his own hand.

All that occurred later, however. At present the story has to do only with what further adventures the boys encountered in their coast wanderings.