  PLANS FOR RESCUE “For Heaven’s sake, captain, what are you up to there?” The voice of Filhiol startled Briggs. In the door of the cabin he saw the old man standing with a look of puzzled anxiety. Through the window Filhiol had seen him take down the kris; and, worried, he had painfully arisen and had hobbled into the house. “Better put that knife up, captain. It’s not a healthy article to be fooling with.” “Not, eh?” asked the captain. “Pretty bad poison, is it?” “Extremely fatal.” “Even dried, this way?” “Certainly! Put it up, captain, I beg you!” The doctor, more and more alarmed, came into the cabin. “Put it up!” “What does it do to you, this curarÉ stuff?” insisted the captain. “Various things. And then—” “Then you die? You surely die?” “You do, unless one very special antidote is applied.” “Nobody in this country has that, though!” “Nobody but myself, so far as I know.” “You’ve got it?” demanded the captain, amazed. “Where the devil would you get it?” “Out East, where you got that devilish kris! You haven’t forgotten that Parsee in Bombay, who gave me the secret cure, after I’d saved him from cholera? Unwillingly the captain obeyed. He hung the weapon up once more, while Filhiol eyed him with suspicious displeasure. “It would be more to the point to see how we’re going to get the boy out of his trouble again,” the doctor reproved. “If you can’t meet this problem without doing something very foolish, captain, you’re not the man I think you!” Briggs made no answer, but hailed: “Ezra! Oh, Ezra!” The old man’s chantey—it now had to do with one “Old Stormy,” alleged to be “dead and gone”—promptly ceased. Footfalls sounded, and Ezra appeared. The cut on his cheek showed livid in the tough, leathery skin. “Cap’n Briggs, sir?” asked he. “The doctor and I are going to take a little morning cruise down to Endicutt in the tender—the buggy, I mean.” “An’ you want me to h’ist sail on Bucephalus, sir? All right! That ain’t much to want, cap’n. Man wants but little here below, an that’s jin’ly all he gits, as the feller says. Right! The Sea Lawyer’ll be anchored out front, fer you, in less time than it takes to box the compass!” Ezra saluted and disappeared. “I don’t know what I’d do without Ezra,” said the captain. “There’s a love and loyalty in that old heart of his that a million dollars wouldn’t buy. Ezra’s been through some mighty heavy blows with me. If either of us was in danger, he’d give his life freely, to save us. No doubt of that!” “None whatever,” assented the doctor, as they once more made their way out to the porch. He blinked at the shimmering vagrancy of light that sparkled from the harbor through the fringe of birches and tall pines along the shore. “Going down to see Squire Bean? Is that it?” “Yes. The quicker we settle that claim the better. You’ll go with me, eh?” “If I’m needed—yes.” “Well, you are needed!” “All right. But, after that, I ought to be getting back to Salem.” “You’ll get back to nowhere!” ejaculated Briggs. “They can spare you at the home a few days. You’re needed here on the bridge while this typhoon is blowing. Here you are and here you stay till the barometer begins to rise!” “All right, captain, as you wish,” he conceded, his will overborne by the captain’s stronger one. “But what’s the program?” “The program is to pay off everything and straighten that boy out and make him walk the chalk-line. Between the four of us—you and I and Laura and Ezra—if we can’t do it, we’re not much good, are we?” “Laura? Who is this Laura, anyhow? What kind of a girl is she?” “The very best,” answered Briggs proudly. “Hal wouldn’t go with any other kind. She’s the daughter of Nathaniel Maynard, owner of a dozen schooners. A prettier girl you never laid eyes to, sir!” “Educated woman?” “Two years through college. Then her mother had a stroke, and Laura’s home again. She’s taken the village school, just to fill up her time. A good girl, if there ever was one. Good as gold, every way. I “You’d have Hal marry her?” “Just that; and I’d see the life of my family carried on stronger, better and more vigorous. I’d see a child or two picking the flowers here, and feel little hands tugging at my old gray beard and—but, Judas priest! I’m getting sentimental now. No more of that, sir!” “I think I understand,” the doctor said in another tone. “We’ve got more than just Hal to save. We’ve got a woman’s happiness to think of. She cares for him, you think?” Briggs nodded silently. “It’s quite to be expected,” commented the doctor. “He certainly can be charming when he tries. There’s only one fly in the honey-pot. Just one—his unbridled temper and his seemingly utter irresponsibility. “You know yourself, captain, his actions this morning have been quite amazing. He starts out to see this girl of his, right away, without giving his bad conduct a second thought. The average boy, expelled from college, would have come home in sackcloth and ashes and would have told you all about it. Hal never even mentioned it. That’s almost incredible.” “Hal’s not an average kind of boy, any more than I was!” put in the captain proudly. “No, he doesn’t seem to be,” retorted the physician, peppery with infirmity and shaken nerves. “However, I’m your guest and I won’t indulge in any personalities. Whatever comes I’m with you!” The captain took his withered hand in a grip that hurt, and for a moment there was silence. This silence was broken by the voice of Ezra, driving down the lane: “All ready, cap’n! All canvas up, aloft an’ alow, Together captain and doctor descended the path to the front gate. In a few minutes Ezra, bony hands on hips, watched the two men slowly drive from sight round the turn by the smithy. Grimly the old fellow shook his head and gripped his pipe in some remnants of teeth. “I don’t like Pills,” grumbled he. “He’s a tightwad; never even slipped me a cigar. He’s one o’ them fellers that stop the clock, nights, to save the works. S’pose I’d oughta respect old age, but old age ain’t always to be looked up to, as, fer instance, in the case of eggs. He’s been ratin’ Master Hal down, I reckon. An’ that wun’t do!” Resentfully Ezra came back to the house and entered the hall. Into the front room Ezra walked, approached the fireplace and for a moment stood there, carefully observing the weapons. Then he reached up and straightened the position of the “Penang lawyer” club, on its supporting hooks. “I got to git that jest right,” said he. “Jest exactly right. Ef the cap’n should see ’twas a mite out o’ place he might suspicion that was what Master Hal hit me with. So? Is that right, that way?” With keen judgment he squinted at the club and gave it a final touch. The kris, also, he adjusted. “I didn’t know Hal touched the toad-stabber, too,” he remarked. “But I guess he must of. It’s been moved some, that’s sure. “I guess things’ll do now,” judged he, satisfied. “There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup an’ the lip, but there’s a damn sight more after the cup has been at the lip. That’s all that made Master Hal slip. He didn’t know, rightly, what he was up to. Forgive “But that doctor, now, what’s been ratin’ Master Hal down—no, no, he’ll never be no friend o’ mine! Well, this ain’t gittin’ dinner ready fer Master Hal. A boy what can dive off Geyser Rock, an’ lick McLaughlin, an’ read heathen Chinee, an’ capture the purtiest gal in this town, is goin’ to be rationed proper, or I’m no cook aboard the snuggest craft that ever sailed a lawn, with lilacs on the port bow an’ geraniums to starb’d!” Ezra gave a final, self-assuring glance at the Malay club that had so nearly ended his life, and turned back to his galley with a song upon his lips: “A Yankee ship’s gone down the river, Blow, ye winds, I long to hear ye! Blow to-day an’ blow to-morrer, How d’ye know she’s a Yankee clipper? Blow, boys, blow! An’ who d’ye think is captain of her? Blow, boys, bully boys, blow! An’ what d’ye think they had fer dinner? Blow, ye winds, I long to hear ye! Blow to-day an’ blow to-morrer, |
|
