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[Frontispiece.] /. ^« "v*i /; i|^^ ^^ pi te ePI^hI ^.:-: CB Author c OARORN " RED w JAM] [CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE A TALE OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES BY li. M. BALLANTYNE, kuTHOR or "BLOWN TO BITS:" "THE CORAr ibtax,..- k WEST, THE RED ERIC;" "FREAKS ON THE FELLS:" "THE YOUN« BOIL^^ 'T'' "-«-««;" "THE BA^TeAv ^rTHF boiler;" "post haste;" "black ivory;" "the inoN horse; " "fiqhtino the flames ; " "the lifeboat;" etc. etc. mith illxi^txntwm bs the Sixtthot. 14043? LONDON: IJAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BEENERS STREET. I Property^otj^^thfterUbrary University of Waterloo 1] iiiys I PEEFACE. Having got nothing prefatorial to say, 1 avail myself of this blank page to say so. Harrow, 1890 K. M. B. 5 SI' :4l* CHAP. 1 ii: IT v: VII VIII, IX XI XII, XIII. XIV. I CONTENTS. 9M9 CHAP. I.— INTRODUCES Till IlEUO J 11.— TUB 8HIPWRRCK jj 111.— "it's an ill wind that BLiVVVS NABBODY GUID," . 86 IV.— DRIFTING ON THK HOCKS 4g V,— ALL THINOS TO ALL MKN, Q4 VI.— DISASTER, STARVATION, AND DEATH, ... 76 VII.— ADBIKT ON THK SEA, • . 1 . . . . gl VIII.— INGRATITUDE, >'•...,, M IX.— SHANK REVEALS SOMETHING MORE ok HIS CHAR- ^CTKR 102 X.— HOME-COMING AND UNEXPECTED SURPRISES, . , Hg XI.— TELLS OP HAPPY MEETINGS AND SERIOUS CON- SULTATIONS 229 XIX,— CHANGES THK SCENE CONSIDERABLY ! . . , 142 Xin.-HUNKY BEN IS SORELY PERPLEXED, . . . . 155 Xn\~THE HAUNT OV THE OUTLAWS, Iflg Vl OONTRNTft. XV.— Lo«T AMD rouiii>, . . . 175 THR llANCM Itf DANQRII 1%$ XTIL— THR At^RM AND PHRI'AllATIitNH »'«>H lIKrRlfCi, 198 Itni.— 'DKrKKCH OV TIIK RANCH or HOAHINO HULL, . . 308 XIX.— TIIK BKMCl'R AND ITU CoWHKqt'RKCKK, ... 381 XX.— JAKK THM rLlNT IN UlfriCULTIRM, . . . . 3|8 XXI.— TILL8 or A CItl'Kr. DKKI), ANU MHOWH HoW MrS- TKUIorHLV HtfNKY HKN HRtlAVKP, . . JMS XXIL— Till: CAVK OK TMK (Mi LAWS INVAUKI) IIV (IIIOSTH AND U.S. Tuuurs, 205 XXIir.— TUB Tll(K)l'H OUTWITTKI) IIV THK HCOUT AND HIH FUIENDH 269 XXIV,— THK MKKTINO OV OLD flUKNUb JN CUHIOUd U1RCUM> BTANCR8, 276 XXV.— SHOWS HOW THK 8KAMAN WAS 8KNT ON A DKHCATB MISSION AND HOW HR KAKKD, .... 287 XXVI.— THKAT8 OF VAU10U8 INTKUESTINO MATTBIW, AND TKLLS OK NEWS FROM HOMK, .... 306 XXVn.— HUNKY BEN AND CHARLIE GET HEYOND THKIR DKPTH, AND DUCK TOM GETS HKVOND RECALL, . . 323 XXVIIL— CHASE, CAI-TUIIB, AND END OF JAKK THE FLINT, . 332 XXIX.— THEY RETURN TO THE RANCH OF ROARING BULL, WHKRE SOMETHING SKHIOUS HAPPENS TO DICK DARVALL, 349 ■ CtUNTKNTH. vii IM 21)8 382 XXX.-CIIAMUKN THK MCMfN iOMRWHAT VlDt.lTTf.r AND Hiiows ntm HiRo IN A NKw r.iaiiT, . . , 160 XXXI.— KAII.I UK AND A N»,\V »«CliNT, XXXII.— ■VOCBM AND rUTtrHR VtA«U, . XXXIII. -aWKKTWATRIt iii.t'rr, . XXXIV.— TIIK LAKT, 878 406 m AND 242 26S 276 287 30tf 323 332 349 LIST 0¥ ILLUSTEATIONS. Hi !!i VIGNETTE TITLE " HE WATCHED THE ROBBER AND HIS VICTIM RIDE QUIETLY AWAY'* (p. 162), . Frontiapiect "0 GOD! CAN IT BE TRUE?" . . facing page lU "NOW, BUTTERCUP, GIVE IT 'EM-HOT,". . 217 "AND RAN TO THE OPENING WHERE HE SAW THE TROOPERS STILL RIDING ABOUT," . 272 "AMMUNITION'S GETTING LOW," SAID DICK, 304 lUN I' i' CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE A TALE OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES THE HERO. To be generally helpful was one of the chief points m the character of Charlie Brooke. He was evidently born to aid mankind. He began by helping himself to everything in life that seemed at all desirable. This was natural, not selfish. At first there were few things, apparently, that did seem to his infant mind desirable, for his earhest days were marked by a sort of chronic crossness that seemed quite unaccountable in one so healthy; but this was eyentuaUy traced to the influence of pins injudiciously disposed about the person by nurse. Possibly this experience may have tended to develop a spirit of brave endurance, and might perhaps account for the beautiful modifica- tions of character that were subsequently observed in him. At all events, sweet, patient amiability A I" •I 1$ 2 CITARLiE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE i '' was a prevailing feature in the boy long before the years of infancy were over, and this heavenly aspect of him was pleasantly diversified, in course of time, by occasional displays of resolute— we might almost say heroic — self-will, which proved a constant source of mingled pride and alarm to his widowed mother. From a very early period of life little Charlie manifested an intense desire, purpose, and capacity for what may be called his life-work of rescuing human beings from trouble and danger. It became a passion with him as years rolled on, and was among the chief means that brought about the changes in his chequered career. Appropriately enough he began— almost in baby- hood — by rescuing himself ! It happened thus. One day, when he had reached the immature age of five, he was left in the nursery for a few moments in company with a wash-tub, in which his mother had been cleansing the household linen. Mrs. Brooke, it may be remarked, although in the middle ranks of life, was very much below the middle ranks in financial prosperity, and had there- fore to perform much household drudgery. Charlie's earnest desire to please and obey his mother constantly came into collision with that self- will to which we have referred. Separately, these qualities may perhaps work quietly, at least as E : before the euly aspect rse of time, ight almost a constant is widowed ;tle Charlie id capacity of rescuing It became I, and was about the st in baby- ad reached he nursery ash-tub, in household ugh in tlie below the liad there- I obey his I that self- tely, these 5 least as OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 8 regards their possessor, but unitedly they form a Puxture which is apt to become explosive in early "Don;t touch the tub, Charlie; I'll be back directly, said Mrs. Brooke, as she was leaving the nursery. "Don't even go near it." "No, muvver, I won't." He spoke with much decision, for he adored water--not to drink but to play with^and seemed to realise the danger of his position, and the necessity for self-control. The temptation to avail himself of the chance howevei^ was almost too much for him. Feelinc: hat an internal conflict was pending, he toddled to the fire, turned his back to it A la paterfamilias, and glared at the tub, resolved, come what might, to be"dood." But fate was against him f Suddenly he became aware that something more than radiated heat was operating in rear He glanced behind. His cotton tunic was in flames! In he twinkling of an eye he was seated in the wash-tub, his hands clasped in horror as he thouo-ht of his guilt, and the flames thoroughly extinguished r I The solemn glare and pursed mouth with which pie met his mother's look of blank amazement may be imagined but cannot be described-he looked so quiet, too, and so evidently contented, for the warm [water was congenial ' 19 \\ ;i (I I* II 'J " Charlie ! did I not say that- CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Yes, muwer, but I 'm bu'nt." The fearsome and dripping black patch which presented itself to the agonised mother when she lifted him out of the tub sufficiently enlightened her and exonerated the child, but her anxiety was not relieved till she had stripped him naked and ascertained for certain that no scrap of his fair skin had been injured. This may be said to have been the real com- mencement of Charlie Brook's career. We mention it chiefly to show that our hero was gifted with some power of ready resource even in childhood. He was also gifted with a fearless and daring dis- position, a quietly enthusiastic spirit, a modest mien, and a strong muscular body. Of course these admirable qualities were not fully developed in childhood, but the seeds were there. In due time the plants came up and the flowers bloomed. We would here caution the reader— especially the youthful reader— against supposing that from this point our hero was engaged in rescue-work, and continued at it ever after without intermission. Like Samson, with his great strength, he exer- cised his powers only now and then— more than half unconscious of what was in him — and on many occasions without any definite purpose in view. His first act of heroism was exercised, when |f<{ p ii OF THE SEA AND HIE ROCKIES. 5 he had reached the age of nine, iu behalf of a kitten. It was on a magnificent summer day, soon after he had been sent to the village school, that the mcident occurred. Charlie was walking at the tune with one of his school-fellow, named Shank Leather. Shank was a little older than himself, and a good enough fellow in his way, but much given to boast- ...g, and possessed of very few of the fine qualities that characterised our hero. The two were out for a hohday-ramble, a long way from home, and had reached a river on the banks of which they sat down to enjoy their mid-day meal. The meal was simple, and carried in their pockets. It consisted of wo mch-and-a-half-thick slices of bread, with two lumps of cheese to match. "I wish this river was nearer home," said Shank Leather, as they sat down under a spreading oak to "Why?" asked his companion, with a felicitous brevity and straightforwardness which occasionally marked his conversation. •■Because then I would have a swim in it everyday " Can you swim ?" asked CharUe, a slight eleva- tion of the eyebrows indicating surprise not un- mingled with ao.v^xation-for our hero was a hero- worshipper. He could not well have been a hero Otherwise! 6 CHAHLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE "Of course I can swim," returned Shank; "that is to say, a little ; but I feel sure that I 'II bo a splendid swimmer some day." His companion's look of admiration increased. "What '11 you take to drink?" asked Shank, drawing a large flask from the pocket in which he had concealed it up to that moment with the express purpose of giving his companion a pleasant surprise. It may be well to add that the variety of drinks implied in his question was imaginary. Shank had only one flask, but in the exuberance of convivial generosity he quoted his own father— who was addicted to "the bottle." "What is it?" asked Brooke, in curious expectancy. " Taste and see," said his friend, uncorking the flask. Charlie tasted, but did not " see," apparently, for he looked solemn, and tasted again. "It's liquorice-water," said Shank, with the look of one who expects approval. " I made it myself! " Nauseous in the extreme, it might have served the purpose of an emetic had not the digestion of the boys been ostrich-like, but, on hearing how it came into existence, Charlie put it a third time to his lips, took a good gulp, and then, nodding his head as he wiped his mouth with his cuff, declared that it was " wonderful." " Yes, isn't it ? There 's not many fellows could make stuff like that." Ill II >!in|l OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 7 "No, indeed," assented the other heartily, as he attacked the bread and cheese. "Does your lather know you made itl" "Oh yes, and he tasted it too-ho'd taste any- thing in the shape of drink^but he spat it out, and then washed his mouth with brandy an' water Mother took some too, and she said she had tasted worse drinks ; and she only wished that father would take to it. That made father laugh heartily Then I gave some to little May, and she said it was 'So nice.'" "Ay. That was like little May," remarked Charlie, with a quiet laugh; "she'd say that a mess o' tar an' shoe-blacking was nice if you made it. But I say. Shank, let's see you swim. I'd give anything if I could swim. Do, like a brick as you are. There 's a fine deep hole here under the bank." He pointed to a pool in the river where the gurgling eddies certainly indicated considerable depth of water, but his friend shook his head. " Ko, Charlie," he said, « you don't understand the danger as I do. Don't you see that the water runs into the hole at such a rate that there 's a tree-mendous eddy that would sweep any man off his legs " "But you're goin' to swim, you know," inter- rupted his friend, "an' have o-ot ta be of*" -oti- ^—-^ anyhow I" f^ *5 * li (1 I * Is mi ClfAItLIK TO TIIK liESCUE : A TALK ill' i "That 'a all yow know," returned the other. "If a man 's swept round by an eddy, don't you know, he '11 be banged against things, and then the water rushes out of the hole with such a gush, an' goes thunderin* down below, over boulders and stones, and — an' — don't you see 1 " " That 's true, Shank ; it does look dangerous, even for a man that can swim." He put such emphasis on the "man" that his comrade glanced sharply at him, but the genuine innocence of our hero's face was too obvious to suggest irony. He simply saw that the use of the word man pleased his friend, therefore he used it. Conversation was cut short at this point by the sudden appearance on the scene of two strangers— a kitten and a dos. The assertion that "dogs delight to bark and bite" is, perhaps, too sweeping, but then it was made by a poet, and poets have an acknowledged licence — though not necessarily a dog-licence. X Certain it is, however, that this dog— a mongrel cur —did bark with savage delight, and display all its teeth, with an evident desire to bite, as it chased a delirious tortoise-shell kitten towards the river. It was a round, soft, lively kitten, with the hair on its little body sticking straight out, its heart in its mouth, and horror in its lovely eyes. It made straight for the tree under which the dinner was <>l'' THK SEA AND THE ItOCKlES. Q going on. Both boys started ui,. Enoniies in front and rear ! Even a human general might have stood appalled. Two courses were still open-right and left. The kitten turned right and went wrong, fur that was the river-side. Ko time for thou^dit ! Barking cur and yelling boys I It reached°the edge of the pool, spread out all its legs with a catterwaul of despair, and went headlong into the water. Shank Leather gazed-something like glee min- j,'led with his look of consternation. Not so our Hero. Pity was bursting his bosom. With one liiagnificent bound he went into the pool, caught the kitten in his right hand, and carried it straight to the bottom. Kext moment he re-appeared on the I surface, wildly beating the water with one hand and holding the kitten aloft in the otlier. Shank to do him justice, plunged into the river up to his waist, but his courage carried him no further There he stuck, vainly holding out a hand and shouting for help. But no help was near, and it seemed as if the pair of strugglers were doomed to perish when a pitiful eddy swept them both out of the deep pool into the foammg rapid below. Shank followed them in howling despair, for here things looked ten times worse: his comrade being tossed from billow to jbreaker, was turned heels over head, bumped against Moulders, stranded on shallows, overturned and 10 CHAULIE TO THE UESCUE : A TALE — ~ — Kowing. shooting, fushing. boxing, and swimming seemed to come naturally to him. and all of them Hi a superlative degree. Swimming was. perhaps Ills most loved amusement, and in this art he soon far outstripped his friend Leather. Some men are endowed with exceptional capacities in regard to water. We have seen men go into the sea warm and como out warmer, even in cold weather. Ex- perience teaches that the reverse is usually true of mankind in northern regions, yet we once saw .1 man enter the sea to all appearance a white luman being, after remaining in it upwards of an liour, and swimming away from shore, like a vessel outward bound, he came back at last the colour or a boiled lobster ! r u CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I lliillii' Such exceptional qualities did Charlie Brooke possess. A South Sea Islander might have envied but could not have excelled him. It was these qualifies that-docided the course of his career just after he left school. "Charlie," said his mother, as they cit eating their mid-day meal alone one day — the mother being, as we have said, a widow, and Charlie an only child— "what do you think of doing, now that you have left school ? for you know my income renders it impossible that I should send you to college." " I don't know what to think, mother. Of course I intend to do something. If you had only in- fluence with some one in power who could enable a fellow to get his foot on the first round of any sort of ladder, something might be done, for you know I'm not exactly useless, though I can't boast of brilliant talents, but " " Your talents are brilliant enough, Charlie," said his mother, interrupting ; " besides, you have been sent into this world for a purpose, and you may be sure that you will discover what that purpose is, and receive help to carry it out if you only ask God to guide you. JSTot otherwise," she added, after a pause. " Do you really believe, mother, that every one i who is born into the world is sent for a purposej and with a specific work to do ?" OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 15 "I do indeed, Charlie." " What ! all the cripples, invalids, imbeciles, even the very infants who are born to wail out their sad lives in a few weeks, or even days ?" "Yes— all of them, without exception. To sup- pose the opposite, and imagine that a wise, loving, and almighty Being would create anything for m purpose seems to me the very essence of absurdity. Our only difficulty is that we do not always see the purpose. All things are ours, but we must ask if we would have them." "But I have asked, mother," said the youth, with an earnest flush on his brow. " You know I have done so often, yet a way has not been opened up. I believe in yoicr faith, mother, but I don't quite beheve in my own. There surely must be some- thing wrong— a screw loose somewhere." He Idid down his knife and fork, and looked out at the window with a wistful, perplexed expression. "How I wish," he continued, « that the lines had been laid down for the human race more distinctly, so that we could not err ! " "And yet," responded his mother, with a peculiar I look, " such lines as are obviously laid down we ' don't always follow. For instance, it is written, 'Ask, and it shall be given you,' and we stop there,' but the sentence does not stop : ' Seek, and ye shall [find 'implies carp. ar>ri f.rmiVji.^. i " Clap a stopper on your mugs ; they 're a-fixin' of it now," said old Grinder. "There's the signal! Haul away, lads ! " We must explain here that the " whip " above mentioned was a double or endless line, passincr through the block which had been hauled out to the wreck by our hero. By means of this whip one end of a stout cable was sent off to the wreck, and on this cable a slinc^- lifebuoy was hung to a pulley and also run out L the wreck. The working of the apparatus, thougli simple enough to seamen, would entail a complicated perhaps incomprehensible, description to landsmen • we therefore pass it by with the remark that, con- nection with the shore having been established, and the shng-lifebuoy~or life-saving machine-run out the crew received it with what was meant for a hearty cheer, but which exhaustion modified to a feeble shout. "Kow, lads," cried the skipper to his men, "look sharp ! Let out the passengers." "Passengers?" exclaimed Charlie Brooke in surprise. " Ay-my wife an' little gurl, two women and an old gentleman. You don't suppose I 'd keep 'em on deck to be washed overboard ? " \. As he spoke two of the men opened the doors of Ill OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 31 the companion-hatch, and caught hold of a little girl of about five vei of who s handed up by a woman. " Stay ! keep her under cover till I get hold of her," cried the skipper. As he was passing from the mast to the com- panion a heavy sea burst over the bulwarks, and swept him into the scuppers. The same wave wrenched the child from the grasp of the man who held it and carried it right overboard. Like an eel, rather than a man, Charlie cleft the foam close behind her, caught her by the skirt and bore her to the surface, when a few strokes of his free arm brought him close under the lee of the wreck just in time to prevent the agonised father from leaping after his child. There was terrible suspense for a few minutes. At one moment our hero, with his burden held high aloft, was far down in the hollow of the watery turmoil, with the black hull like a great wall rising above him, while the skipper in the main-chains, pale as death but sternly silent, held on with his left hand and reached down with his right— every finger rigid and ready! Next moment a water-spout, so to speak, bore the rescuer upward on its crest, but not near enough— they went downward again. Once more the leaping water surged upwards; the skipper's strong hand closed like the grip of death on the dress, and the child was safe while its rescuer sank away from it. 1:1 J 32 CHARLIE TO THE UESCUE : A TALE i " Help him ! " shouted the skipper, as he staggered to the shelter of the companion. But Charlie required no help. A loose rope hanging over the side caught his eye : he seized it and was on deck again in a few seconds. A minute later and he was down in the cabin. There, terror-stricken, sat the skipper's wife, never venturing to move, because she had been' told to remain there till called. Happily she knew nothing of the incident just described. Beside her sat the other women, and, near to them, a stern old gentleman, who, with compressed lips, quietly awaited orders. " Come, quick ! " said Charlie, grasping by the arm one of the women. It was the skipper's wife. She jumped up right willingly and went on deck. There she found her child already in the life-buoy, and was instantly lifted in beside it by her husband, who looked hastily round. " Come here, Dick," he said to a little cabin-boy who clung to a stanchion near by. " Get in." The boy looked surprised, and drew back. "Get in, I say," repeated the skipper sternly. " There 's more women, sir," said the boy, still holding back. " True— brave lad ! but you 're wanted to keep these from getting washed out. I am too heavy, you know." ii|i III the 'a OF THE SEA AKD THE nOCKIES. 33 self into' Jr'"'*''." '°''^"- He squeezed him. B^^'nto the machine beside the woman and Then up at arm's-length went the skipper's sou'- wester as a signal that all was ready, and the fisher- men began to haul the life-buoy to the shore. indeed^'l?- "'""' ^'^ ' "■"' "' *« "^'^^^oe. mdeed, the tno were borne along well out of the ng cheers from the fishermen-and a treble echo sXt:r'^'''"^'''^^*"-''«^--'^- cheeld, said an old woman to May Leather who crouched beside her. . "Ay, that he is ! " exclaimed May. with a gush of naus.asm ,n tone and eyes that made them al turn to look at her. "Your brother?" asked a handsome, strapping young woman. ^^ ^ " No—I wish he was !" "Hm! ha!» exclaimed the strapping youns woman-whereat ther^ wn« .^chanr^ ^ ^ nnf lfli,«T, 1. 4. TIT ' ■■""■ "^^^^^^g^a a signiti- cant laugh; but May took no notice of it, being too 84 CHARLIE TO THE RESGFE : A TALE deeply engrossed with the proceedings on shore and sea. Again the fishermen ran out the life-buoy and soon hauled it back with another woman ; then a third. After that came the old gentleman, quite self-possessed c - o'm, though very pale and di- sheveled ; and, 1, Ang him, the crew, one by one, were rescued. Then came the hero of the hour, and last of all, as in duty bound, the skipper— not much too soon, for he had barely reached the land when the brig was overwhelmed and engulfed in the raging sea. 1 OF THE SEA AND THR ROOKIES. as CHAPTEE III. "IT'S it, lU, „,TO TH*T BUW8 KiBBODT OUID." That many if „ot most names have originated in the character or condition of individuals seems obvious, else why is it that so many people take after their names ? We have no desire to argue the question, but hasten on to remarif that old Jacob Crossley was said to be-observe, we do not say that he was-a notable illustration of what we refer to Jacob was "as cross as two sticks," if we are to b heve Mrs. <1 Mr ^r>naa^r^^r :^ J •.-, ., , ,.^^, ._iv«oicj, in iiuuui uiiuue witn liie OF THE SEA AND THE ItOCKIES. 37 Wish expressed in your letter. Although, being a stranger, I do not " '' The young man stopped at this point and looked steaddy at the old gentleman with a peculiarly questionmg expression. " '^°" ••^""gnwe me, I see," said the old man, with a very slight smile. " Well_I may be mistaken, but you do bear some resemblance to " " Just so, I 'm the man that you hauled so violently out of the cabin of the wreck last week, and shoved so unceremoniously into the life-buoy, and I have sent for you, iirst, to thank you for saving my life because they tell me that, but for your swimmin.' off with a rope, we should certainly have aU been est ; and, secondly, to offer you aid in any course of ife you may wish to adopt, for I have been informed that you are not at present engaged in any .special employment." ./ r |»« " You are very kind, sir, very kind," returned Charlie, somewhat embarrassed. "I can scarcely claim, however, to have saved your life, though I thankfully admit having had the opportunity to lend a hand. The rocket-men, in reality, did the work, for without their splendid working of the apparatus my swimming off would have been useless." Mr. CrO.S.silAV frnwrip,! «.l,:i„ it . ., —•' --"""Sa niuiu uie youth was speak- ing, and regarded him with some suspicion. 38 CUAULIE TO TIIK KESCUE : A TALE I! li. "You admit, T suppose," ho rejoined sternly, "that if you had not swum off, the rocket apparatus would have been equally useless." 'v"By no means," returned Charlie, with that benignant smile that always accompanied his opposition in argument. "I do not admit that, because, if I had not done it, assuredly some one else would. In fact a friend of mine was on the point of making the attempt when I pulled him back and prevented him." "And why did you prevent him ?" " Because he was not so well able to do it as I." " Oh ! I see. In other words, you have a pretty high opinion of your own powers." " Possibly I have," returned the youth, somewhat sharply. "I lay claim to no exemption from the universal law of vanity which seems to affect the entire human race— especially the cynical part of it. At the same time, knowing from long experience that I am physically stronger, can swim better, and have greater power of endurance, though not greater courage, than my friend, it would be mere pretence were I to assume that in such matters I was his inferior. You asked me why I prevented him : I gave you the reason exactly and straightforwardly. I now repeat it." "Don't be so ready to fire up, young man," said Crossley, with a deprecating smile. "I had no intention of hurting your feelings." i Of THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 89 ' f "You have not hurt them, sir," returned Charlie, with almost provoking urbanity of manner and sweetness of voice, " you have only misunderstood me." " Woll. well, let it pass. Tell me, now. can T do anything for you ? " " Nothing, thank you." "Eh ?" oxclaimed the old gentleman in surprise. "Nothing, thank you," repeated his visitor. "I did not save you for the purpose of being rewarded, and I refuse to accept reward for sfving you." < For a second or two Mr. Cropsley regarded his visitor in silence, with a conflicting mixture of frown and smile—a sort of acidulated-drop expres- sion on his rugged face. Then he asked— "What is the name of this friend whom you prevented from swimming off to iis ? " " Shank Leather." " Is he a very great friend of yours ? " "Very. We have been playmates from child- hood, and school-fellows till now." " What is he ?— his profession, I mean ? " " Nothing at present. That is to say, he has, like myself, been trained to no special profession, and the failure of the firm in the counting-house of which we have both served for some months has cast us adrift at the same time." "Would it give you much satisfaction if I were to find good employment for your friend ? " u Ji* I*' 40 CIIAKLIK TO T!fK UJUJCUE : A TALK i'i'i !li Indeed it wimld—tho highest posHiblo Hutisfao. tion," oxclairnod Charlie, with the Hrst symptom of enthusiasm in his tone and look. "What can your friend Shank Leather do?" asked the old man bruyquely. "Oh I many things. He's capital at figures, thoroughly understands book-keeping, and— and is a hard-working foUow, whatever ho puU his hand to." " Is he steady ? " Charlie was silent for a few moments. " Well, one cannot bo sure," he answered, with some hesitation, " what meaning you attach to the word 'steady.' I " " Yes, yes, I see," interrupted Crossloy, consulting his watch. " No time to discuss meanings of words just now. Will you tell your friend to call on me here the day after to-morrow at six o'clock ? You live in Sealford, I have been told ; does he live near you ? " " Yes, within a few minutes' walk." " Well, tell him to be punctual. Punctuality is the soul of business. Hope I won't find your friend as independent as you seem to be ! You are quite sure, are you, that I can do nothing for you ? I have both money and influence." The more determined that our hero became to decHne all offers of assistance from tho man who had misconstrued hia mntivoa fim *v.«,.^ ^* .,-u^^:i... Ji K or Tin 8KA Am) tiir hockim. 41 markod Iu8 mu.ni.r. u„d it was with a «milo of noffublo goo 'I 44 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE salt water, tar, and whiskers about him. " Sit down. Have you made up your mind to take command of the Walrus V "Well, Mr. Crossley, since you *re so very good," said the sea-captain with a modest look, "I had feared that the loss o' " "Never mind the loss of the brig. Captain. It was no fault of yours that she came to grief. Other ship-owners may do as they please. I shall take the liberty of doing as / please. So, if you are ready, the ship is ready. I have seen Captain Stuart, and I find that he is down with typhoid fever, poor fellow, and won't be fit for duty again for many weeks. The Walrus must sail not later than a week or ten days hence. She can't sail without a captain, and I know of no better man than yourself; so, if you agree to take command, there she is, if not I '11 find another man." "I'm agreeable, sir," said Captain Stride, with a gratified, meek look on his large bronzed face— a look so very different from the leonine glare with which he was wont to regard tempestuous weather or turbulent men. "Of course it'll come rather sudden on the missus, but w'en it blows hard what 's a man got to do but make all snug and stand by ? " "Quite true. Stride. I have no doubt that you are nautically as well as morally correct, so I leave It to you to brinff round the mistress, and consider that matter as settled. By the way, I hope that she and y ting I rescue to the usual : "Gl "By «Th word, met wi "Thi very n: young extraor' "Yes what I dent thi " 'Zac young i or tail, J tide " Thai rupted < "It'shJ! " Oh ! " Wei] first let 1 of the br OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 45 and your little girl have not suffered from the wet- ting and rough handling experienced when being rescued." "Not in the least, sir, thankee. In fact I incline to the belief that they are rather more frisky than usual in consekince. Leastwise little Maggie is." " Glad to hear it. Now, about that young fellow." " By which I s'pose you mean Mr. Brooke, sir ? " "The same. He has just left me, and upon my word, he 's about the coolest young fellow I ever met with." "That's just what I said to the missus, sir, the very night arter we was rescued. * The way that young feller come off, Maggie,' says I, 'is most extraor'iiar'. No fish that ' " "Yes, yes, Stride, I know, but that's not exactly what I mean : it's his being so amazingly indepen- dent that " " 'Zactly what I said, sir. ' Maggie,' says I, ' that young feller seemed to be quite independent of fin or tail, for he came right off in the teeth 0' wind and tide ' " "That's not what I mean either, Captain," inter- rupted the old gentleman, with slight impatience. "It's hjs independent spirit I refer to." " Oh ! I ax your pardon, sir." " Well, now, listen, and don't interrupt me. But first let me ask. does hfi Imc^v^ ^\^^ t ^^ fi-_ -^ . — iv-i.. ,, viiiiu J. am uiG owner of the brig that was lost ? " IIS I r CI M ij \\ \l (I (I f J 4 'IP I «4 Ih r i >■. ■; ii ifi ^H ■1^^ '1 H m 46 If' ^£ ml ; I i ill CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Yes ; he knows that." "Does he know that I also own the JValnis:' "No, I'm pretty sure he don't. Leastwise I didn't tell him, an' there 's nobody else down there as knows anything about you." " So far, good. Now, Stride, I want you to help me. The young goose is so proud, or I know not what, that he won't accept any favours or rewards from me, and I find that he is out of work just now so I 'm determined to give him something to do in spite of himself. The present supercargo of the TFalrus is a young man who will be pleased to fall in with anything I propose to him. I mean, there- fore, to put him in another ship and appoint young Brooke to the Walrus. Fortunately the firm of Withers and Co. does not reveal my name-I having been Co. originally, though I'm the firm now, so that he won't suspect anything, and what I want is, that you should do the engaging of him —being authorised by Withers and Co.— you under- stand ? " " I follow you, sir. But what if he objects ? » "He won't object. I have privately inquired about him. He is anxious to get employment, and has strong leanings to an adventurous life on the sea. There 's no accounting for taste. Captain ! " "Bight you are, sir," replied the Captain, with an approving nod. "That's what I said only this monnn' to my missus. ^ Maggie,' says I, ' salt water n OP THE SEA AND THE BOOKIES. 47 hasn't a good taste, as even the stoopidest of mortals knows, but w'en a man has had to lick it off his lips at sea for the better part of half a century It s astonishin- how he not only gits used to it,' but even comes to like the taste of it.' 'Poohl' says she, 'don't tell me you likes it, for you don't. It all a dlusion an' a snare. I hates both the taste an the smell of it.' -Maggie,' says I, quite sjemn-hke, 'that maybe so, but you're not me.' No, thank goodness ! ' says she-which you mustn't suppose, sir, meant as she didn't like m., for she's a true-hearted affectionate creetur-though I say it as shouldn't-but she meant that she 'd have had to go to sea reg-lar if she had been me, an' that would for the first time she ever went she was all bu turned inside " "If you're going citywards," interrupted Mr Crossley again pulling out his watch, «we may as' weU finish our talk in the street " As Captain Stride was "quite agreeable" to his proposal, the two left the house together, and haihng a hansom, drove off in the direction of the' City. ^ 111 .\'J 'll m 11 i mm' u K ' ' -if V " i ff " II ^2 CI yt '^ mm * 9 H '■ j9 AM (4 - i 1 ^ ' ''11, La 11 ' ' •] ll (1 ll \ " iW '■■ ' <* ll ' i^ 11 ' J J mH H ^ p 'A S • ? # ^ I'l p . ^Z$ 01 |h ^ •| M f 1^^ f ''a * lit 48 I'* CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I CHAPTER IV. DRIFTINQ ON THK ROCKS. On the sea-shore, uot far from the spot where the brig had been wrecked, Charlie Brooke and Shank Leather walked up and down engaged in earnest conversation soon after the interviews just described. Very dififerent was the day from that on which the wreck had taken place. It seemed almost beyond possibility that the serene sky above, and the calm, glinting ocean which rippled so softly at their feet, could be connected with the same world in which inky clouds and snowy foam and roaring billows had but a short time before held high revelry. "Well, Charlie," said his friend, after a pause, "it was very good of you, old boy, and I hope that Vll do credit to your recommendation. The old man seems a decent sort of chap, though . somewhat cross-grained." " He is kind-hearted, Shank ; I feel quite sure of that, and hope sincerely that you will get on well with him." (( ( seem get f< busin other yet n he is i "Pc five nj "Ml mine, i man u year. mouth. don ne seem p] Leathei gazing I holes w "I C( and you are not self, for the surfi nature o "Norn ness or s€ charactei of virtuo bhe high OK TIIE SEA AND THE UOCKIES. 49 .pIT"* ''r''" '"^""^ ^«''^': "yo" don't »eem to understand that the situation ho is to get for me is not in connection with his own busmess whatever that may be. It is in some other Oty firm, the name of which he has not yet mentioned. I can't myself understand why he IS so close ! " ' "Perhaps because he has been born with a secre- tive nature," suggested Charlie. "May bo so. However, that's no business of mme, and It doesn't do to be too inquisitive when a man is offering you a situation of two hundred a year It would be like looking a gift-horse in the mouth. All I care about is that I 'm to go to Ion- don next week and begin work.-Wliy, you don't seem pleased to hear of my good fortune," continued Leather, turning a sharp look on his friend, who was gazing gravely at the sand, in which he was poking holes with his stick. ^ "I congratulate you, Shank, with all my heart and you know it, but-I'm soriy to find that you are not to be in connection with Mr. Crossley him- self, for there is more good in him than appears on the surface. Did he then make no mention of the nature of his own business ? " " None whatever. To say truth, that mysterious- ness or secrecy is the only point about the old fellow's character that I don't like," said Leather, with a frnwn of virtuous disapproval. '"All fair and above-board,' D hz 1 •" 50 CIIARME TO niK RESCUE: A TALE I that's my motto. Speak out your mind and foar nothing ! " At these noble sentiments a faint smile, if we may say so, hovered somewhere in the recesses of Charlie Brooke's interior, but not the quiver of a muscle disturbed the solemnity of his face. "The secrecy of his nature seems even to have infected that skipper with — or rather by — whom he was wrecked," continued Leather, " for when I asked him yesterday about the old gentleman, he became suddenly silent, and when I pressed him, he made me a rigmarole speech something like this : ' Young man, I make it a rule to know nothin' whatever about my passengers. As I said only two days past to my missus : " Maggie," says I, " it 's of no use your axin' me. My passengers' business is their business, and my business is mine. All I 've got to do is to sail my ship, an* see to it that I land my passengers in safety." ' " ' You made a pretty mess of your business, then, the last trip,' said I, for I was bothered with his obvious determination not to give me any informa- tion." "'Eight you are, young man,' said he, 'and it would have been a still prettier mess if your friend Mr. Brooke hadn't come off wi' that there line ! ' " " I laughed at this and recovered my temper, but I could pump nothing more out of him. Perhaps J pump. — But now tell me, how . nothins IS it all c worli "1 incai himst Cross moti\ acccp I was "H der in pride '. "W Perhaj nised." "Th be reco had be could E Shan fairly o probed deal of togethei of chare after the ism, the vanity i] J OP THE SEA AND THK KOCKIES. fil ia it--for 1 cannot undorstand-that you refused all ofTors to vouraolf? Vn„ reruseu mcaiuble of g.va,g you an answer as Captain Stride himself. Yo„ eeo. during our conversation Mr Crossley attributed mea„-at al, events ~1 n t,ves to ,„, and somehow I felt that I J2Lt Z Z 'r " f •"' '""«'» J-' "'en. I SUSP I was too hasty. I fear it was false prido " Ha ! ha ! " laughed Leather ; « • pride ' ! I won- ;'ri^''""^^'^''-'''-°^^-'>^« corpus z PpZ"V- """'^ ''"°^- ^' »"«' ^ pretty deep 2r '' " ^"S^"-'. -J cannot be Lly'reeog-' "That last is true, Charlie. Assuredly it can't be recognised, for it 's not there at all. Why if J „ had been born with a scrap of false pride yo^ and i could never have been friends-for I hate it r- Shank Leather in saying this had hit the nail deal Of the friendship whi:hrwthte";„:gC Ir rt V ^""^^ "^'^'^ °» «="=» other somewhal ism, ine ratchetq nf ooifir,i _ , •i . " ' "* •^^-'"oiiuucia ana coer-wheeI«j nf vamty ,n Shank fitting easily into the'plioi o! m. if-!: Ill ! ll S3 CIIAULIK TO THE RESCUE : A TALE h» {I V II ! 1-^aa i?«i good-will and modesty which characterised his friend, so that there waa no jarring in their inter- course. This alone would not, perhaps, have induced the strong fricndsliip that existed if it had not been coupled with their intimacy from childhood, and if Brooke had not been particularly fond of Shank's invalid mother, and recognised a few of her good characteristics faintly reproduced in her son, while Shank fully appreciated in Charlie that amiable temperament which inclines its happy possessor to sympathise much with others, to talk little of self, to beUevo all things and to hope all things, to the verge almost of infantine credulity. "Well, well," resumed Charlie, with a laugh, " however that may be, I did decline Mr. Crossley's' offers, but it does not matter much now, for that same worthy captain who bothered you so much has told me of a situation of which he has the gift, and has offered it to me." " You don't say so ! Is it a good one ? " " Yes, and well paid, I 'm told, though I don't know the exact amount of the salary yet." " And have you accepted ? " I' I have. Mother agreed, after some demur, that it is better than nothing, so, like you, I begin work in a few days." "Well now, how strangely tMngs do happen some- limes ! " said Leather, stopping and looking out sea- ward, where the remains of the brig could still be .1 Of THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 53 distinguished on the rocks that had fixed hor doom "But for that fortunate wreck and our saving the people in her, you and I might still have been whistling in the mnks of the Great Unen.ployod ! —And what sort of a situation is it, Charlie ? " ^ "You will smile, perhaps, when I toll you. It IS to act as supercargo of the Wa'rua, which ia commanded by Captain Stride himself." Young Leather's countenance fell "Why Charlie," he said, "that means that you're mm away to sea 1 " -^ © b " I fear it does." "Soon?" " In a week or two." For some little time Leather did not speak. The news fell upon him with a shock of disagreeable surprise, for, apart from the fact that he really loved his friend, he was somehow aware that there were not many other young men who cared much for himself~in regard to which he was not a little sur- prised, for it never occurred to him that egotism and selfishness had anything to do with the coolness of his friends, or that none but men like our hero with sweet tempers and self-forgetting dispositions' could by any possibility put up with him. " Who are the owners of the Walrus, Charlie ?" he asked, as they turned into the lane that led from the beanh tn thn ^riiio^'o "Withers and Co. of London." f4 »i li CnARt.!E TO THE RfiSCUB: A TAU " H'm— don't know them. They must bo trustful fellows, however, to take a captain into their employ who has just lost his vessel." "They have not Uken him into their employ" said Charlie. '• Captain Stride tells me he has been in their service for more than a .[uurter of a cen- tury, and they exonerate him from all blame in the loss of the brig. It does seem odd to me, however that ho should bo appointed so imn.cdiately to n new ship, but, as you remarked, that 's none of my business. Come. 1 '11 go in with you and congratu- late your mother and May on your appointment." -^Thoy had reached the door of SImnk Leather's house by that lime. It was a poor-Iookiug house in a poor side street or blind alley of the village, the haunt of riotous children during the day-time, and of maddening cats at night. Stray dogs now and then invaded the alley, but, for the most part, it was to c^nldren and cats that the region was given over. Here, for the purpose of enabling the proverbial two ends' to "meet," dwelt a considerable popula- tion m houses of diminutive size and small accom- modation. A few of these were persons who, havin<- "seen better days," were anxious to hide their poverty and existence from the "friends" of those better days. There was likewise a sprinkling of .ndmduals and families who, having grown callous to the sorrows of earth, had reached that condition wnerein thfi moofi"*'"- -* *^i--i ^- ■> • --''"'6 "* «'"e iwo enas m a matter of OF THE SEA AND THK TlOCKim. 60 oomparativo indiirerenoo, because thoy never mot. aiKl wero never more expected to meet~the blank annually loft gaping, being filled np. somehow, by a sort of compromise between bankruptcy, charity ond starvation. ■" To the second of these the Leather fan.ily be- longed. They had been brought to their sad condi- tion by that prolific source of human misery-the bottle. ^ To do the family justice, it was only the father who had succumbed. He had been a gentleman • he was now a sot. His wife-delicate owing to' bad treatment, sorrow, and iusuflicient nourishment —was, ever had been, and ever would be, a lady and a Christian. Owing to the last priceless condition she was still alive. It is despair that kills, and despair had been banished from her vocabulary ever since she had laid down the arms of her rebellion and accepted the Saviour of mankind as her guide and consolation. But sorrow, suffering, toil had not departed when the demon despair fled away. They had, however been wonderfully lightened, and one of the brightest gleams of hope in her sad life was that she might possibly be used as the means of saving her hus- band. There were other gleams of light, however one of the brightest of them being that May, her '^"i- daughter, was lovinc and 8vinm<-.hAh-n_ '. .. sometimes expressed it, "as good as gold." she 1 i, I I *p 56 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE But there was also a very dark spot in her life- Shank, her only son, was beginning to show a ten- dency to tread in his father's steps. Many golden texts were enshrined in the heart of poor Mrs. Leather, and not a few of these-painted by the hand of May-hung on the walls of their little sitting-room, but the word to which she turned her eyes in seasons of profoundest obscurity, and which served her as a sheet-anchor in the midst of the wildest storms, was, " Hope thou in God, for thou Shalt yet praise Him." And alongside of that text, whenever she thought of it or chanced to look at it, there invariably flashed another : «' Immanuel God with us." May and her mother were alone when the youn^r men entered ; the former was at her lessons, the latter busy with knitting-needles. Knitting was the means by which Mrs. Leather, with constant labour and inexhaustible perseverance' managed to fill up the gap between the before-men- tioned "two ends," which her dissolute husband failed to draw together. She could read -or assist May with her lessons, while her delicate fingers working below the table, performed miraculous gyra- tions with steel and worsted. To most male minds, we presume, this is utterly incomprehensible. It is well not to attempt the description of that which one dce:« not understand. The good lady knitted socks and stockings, and mittens and cuffs and OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 57 comforters, and other things, in absolutely over- whelming quantities, so that the accumulation in the press in which she stored them was at times quite marvellous. Yet that press never quite filled up, owing to the fact that there was an incurable leak in it-a sort of secret channel-through which the products of her toil flowed out nearly as fast as she poured them in. ^ This leak in the worsted press, strange to say increased wonderfully just after the wreck described m a previous chapter, and the rivulet to which it gave rise flowed in the direction of the back-door of the house, emptying itself into a reservoir which a ways took the form of a little elderly lady, with a plam but intensely lovable countenance, who liad been, perhaps still was, governess in a family in a neighbouring town where Mrs. Leather had spent some of her « better days." Her name was MoUoy Like a burglar Miss Molloy came in a stealthy manner at irregular intervals to the back-door of the house, and swept the press of its contents, made them up into a bundle of enormous size, and carried them off on the shoulders of an appropriately dis- reputable blackguard boy-as Shank called him- whom she retained for the purpose. Unlike a bur- glar, however. Miss Molloy did not « bolt with the swag," but honestly paid for everything, from the Imgest pair of gentlemen's fishing socks to the smallest pair of children's cuffs. \f ■I •1 il I* (I (I '2 4 J' it'*i i] (1 111 ■' I 1: Whi 58 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE What Miss Molloy did with this perennial flow of woollen work, whom she came from, where she went to, who discovered her, and why she did it, were subjects of inquiry which baffled investigation, and always simmered in the minds of Shank and May, though the mind of Mrs. Leather herself seemed to be little if at all exercised by it. At all events she was uncommunicative on the point, and her children's curiosity was never gratified, for the mother was obdurate, and, torture being illegal at that time in England, they had no means °of compelling disclosure. It was sometimes hinted by Shank that their little dog Scraggy-appropriately named I~knew more than he chose to tell about the subject, for he was generaUy present at the half- secret interviews, and always closed the scene with a sham but furious assault on the ever contemptuous blackguard boy. But Scraggy was faithful to his trust, and revealed nothing. " I can't tell you how glad I am, Mrs. Leather, about Shank's good fortune," said Charlie, with a gentle shake of the hand, which Mr. Crossley would have appreciated. Like the Nasmyth steam-ham- mer, which flattens a ton of iron or gently cracks a hazel-nut, our Herculean hero could accommodate himself to circumstances ; « as your son says, it has been a lucky wreck for us" "Lucky indeed for Am," responded the lady, instantly resuming her knitting, which she generall'y [ij I or THE SEA AND THE ROOKIES. 59 kept down near her lap, well hidden by the tabl« whde she looked at her visitor and talked. " burnot very pleasant for those who have lost by It " Pooh I mother, nobody has lost by "it" said Jl.ank zn h,s free-and-easy style. " The owne 3 don t lose, because of course it was insured and to Insurance Companies caz^'t be said to lo': for the han the losing of a pin would be felt by y7urse " and the captam won't lose-except a few sea 'ar ■nentP and things o' that kind-L he Ta,? appointed to another ship already Bv ^ -he, that reminds me L C^e hi Is';;:^' Stride feels so gi-ateful that he has offered him tZ situation of supercargo in his new ship " a s^dVen'st"""- ^"'t"' '^"'''-S--^'- came to sudden stop, and she looked inquirin<.lv it hpv young friend. So did May. "^ ' " Have you accepted it ? " "Well, yes. I have." "I'm so sorry," said May Shank will do without you " the^'dol';' T""' " '""' '"°*'°S -- '--d at looUiArheir^''^"^^-^--' to.drr"jr::fr^rf""^'^^^^^'^^ returned home. "^ °^ '"' '«'"^« ''"^ I tlon't know what > . r 3 C^ 60 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE w 'i\ ; / With sudden interest in worsted fabrics, which he was far from feeling, Charlie Brooke turned his back to the door, and, leaning forward, took up an end of the work with which the knitter was busy. " That 's an extremely pretty pattern, Mrs. Leather. Does it take you long to make things of the kind ?" "Not long j I—I make a good many of them." She said this with hesitation, and with her eyes fixed on the doorway, through the opening of which her husband thrust a shaggy disheveled head, with dissipation stamped on a countenance which had evidently been handsome once. But Charlie saw neither the husband's head nor the poor wife's gaze, for he was still bending over the worsted-work in mild admiration. Under the impression that he had not been observed, Mr. Leather suddenly withdrew hio head, and was heard to stumble up-stairs under the guid- ance of May. Then the bang of a door, followed by a shaking of the slimly-built house, suggested the idea that the poor man had flung himself on his bed. "Shank Leather," said Charlie Brooke, that same night as they strolled on the sea-shore, " you gave expression to some sentiments to-day which I highly approved of. One of them was ' Speak out your mind, and fear nothing ! ' I mean to do so now, and expect that you will not be hurt by my following your advice." fi « 1 glan( tone. "1 "I other, hope! "\! agree yours( are soc —it u mind 1 and cl father'; don't ti least f( to com Kemem advised "Yes uncharii Leather; admit t] sometim — more very difi appear u OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. «1 "Well?" exclaimed Shank, with a dubious glance, for he disliked the seriousness of his frleZ "Your father " began Charlie. oth'ef « T f "'' T\ """•' *^"-" ■•"«""P'«d the other. I know all that you can say. His case is hope ess and I can't bear to speak about it " We I won't speak about him, though I cannot agree w.th you that his case is hopeless. But it s yourself that I wish to speak about. You and I -It may be for ever. Now I must speak out my mnd before I go. My old playmate, Lool-feUoT and chum, you have begun to walk in your poo fathers f„„tsteps, and you may be sure that if you dont turn round all your hopes will be blasted-at east for this life-perhaps also for tha wMcH to come. Now don't be ang,y or hurt. Shank ^member that you not only encouraged me b".t advised me to speak out my mind." "Yes, but I did not advise you to form a false unchantable judgment of your chum," return d Leather, with a dash of bitterness in hi tone i admit that I '1. fond of a social glass, and hat I sometimes, though rarely, take a liMle-a very Me veiy different trom being a drunkard, which you appear to assume that I am." "Nay, Shank, I don't assume that. What I O 62 CIIAHLIR TO THE RESCUE : A TALE fe said was that you are h6ginning to walk in your dear father's footsteps. No man ever yet became a drunkard without heginning. And I feel certain that no man ever, when beginning, had the most distant intention or expectation of becoming a drunkard. Your danger, dear old fellow, lies in your not seeing the danger. You admit that you like a social glass. Shank, I candidly make the same admission— I like it,— but after seeing your father, and hearing your defence, the danger has been so deeply impressed on me, that from this hour I resolve, God helping me, never more to taste a social glass." " WeU, Charlie, you know yourself best," returned his friend airily, "and if you think yourself in so great danger, of course your resolve is a very pru- dent one ; but for myself, I admit that I see no danger, and I don't feel any particular weakness of will in regard to temptation." "Ah, Shank, you remind me of an eccentric old lady I have heard of who was talking with a friend about the difficulties of life. 'My dear,' said the fnend, 'I do find it such a difficult thing to resist temptation-don't you?' 'No,' replied'' the eccentric old lady, 'I don't, for I never resist temp- tation, I always give way to it ! '" "I can't quite make out how your anecdote applies to me, Charlie." " Don't you see ? Yov. feel no wfifl.knp«fl nf «„-n ;,, or rilE SEA AMI) THE ROCKIES, ^3 regard to temptation because you never give your wm an opportunity of resieting it. You always give way to ,t. You ace. I am speaking out my mind freely— as you have advised I " fear nothing else you would not risk a quarrel by domg so. But really, my boy, it's of no use your tubling your head on that subject, for I feel quite -Je._and I don't mean to give in, so there's an end Our hero persevered notwithstanding, and for some time onger sought to eonvinee or'move £ friend bo h by earnest appeal and light pleasantry, but to all appearance without success, although he reduced him to silence. He left him at last and went h„„e meditating on the truth of the pr;verb that a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion stiU." O 'f • 5 'm ! i: I' ^-i n Gl CilAULlE TO THE UlibCUK ; A TALE CHArTER V. ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN. Under the inlluenco of favouring breezes and bright skies the Walrus swept gaily over the ocean at the beginning of her voyage, with " stuns'ls alow and aloft, royals and sky-scrapers," according to Captain Stride. At least, if these were not the exact words he used, they express pretty well what he meant, namely, a " cloud of canvas." But this felicitous state of things did not last. The tropics were reached, where calms prevailed with roasting heat. The Southern Atlantic was gained, and gales were met with. The celebrated Cape was doubled, and the gales, if we may say so, were trebled. The Indian Ocean was crossed, and the China Seas were entered, where typhoons blew some of the sails to ribbons, and snapped off the top- masts like pipe-stems. Then she sailed into the great Pacific, and for a time the Walrus sported pleasantly among the coral islands. During all this time, and amid all these changes, Charlie Brooke, true to his character, was the OF THE SEA AND TIIE ROCKIFS. g, busiest and most active man on boarf Not th»f h-s own special duties gave l.im much to d„ t until the vessel should reach nort fh ' light ; but our hero JT-,^ ' '" """'" ™"«'' ft , wut um "ero— -as Stride exn^es^Pf^ i«- «,« i. always be doinrr" if u, , ;^P'^^««e^ »t-«must Brooke's te^de,! y to m t ""^^1"ence of young voluntarily to thiCrVe'lrkT "' .rT " vations with the captain. ZTlaJt tt learned to knot and stJice andTo '"'P'"'*'"' f»,« u . . , splice, and to sew canvas with nl o: r'^' •="'-"'«°'^<' '--'•■yandLi:^': ingiy on the preparation of food wif h tha . i \ " txie caom. He was a splendid lisfcpnpr be.ng much more anxious to ascertain el ly the ;Lrte.~'**°"°^^<''''«' Charlie was of It tindTf .'"'" '° ^'^^''"^ -^»-«- learned a hS .'" "''''''''"^' ""'^'^ «' home, leainea a little rou»h-anf] fnmKi^ „,. ,^ *""o" ana-tumble surererv witli n slight smattering of m^dicinp Tf ' hnf if ^..„H - ? ">^licine. It was not much. "■" - ^^-v.d .u .e useful as far as it went, and his F. 66 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE ii I "little knowledge" was not "dangerous," because he modiisUr refused to go a single step beyond it in tho \\ ay of practice, unless, indeed, he was urgently pressed to do so by his ^jatients. In virtue of his attainments, real and supposed, he came to be re- cognised as thp doctor of the ship, for the l^alms carried no medical man. "Look here, Brooke," said tho only passenger on board — a youth of somewhat delicate con- stitution, who was making the voyage for the sake of his health, — "I've got horrible toothache. D'you think you can do anything for me ?" "Let's have a look at it," said Charlie, with kindly interest, though he felt half inclined to smile at the intensely lugubrious expression of the youth's face. "Why, Ray wood, that is indeed a bad tooth; nothing that I know of will improve it. There 's a cavern in it big and black enough to call to remembrance the Black Hole of Calcutta! A red-hot wire might destroy the nerve, but I never saw one used, and should not like to try it." "Horrible!" exclaimed Ray wood. "I've been mad with pain all the morning, and can't afiford to be driven madder. Perhaps, somewhere or other in the ship there may be a — a — thingumy." " A whatumy ? " inquired the other. "A key, or— or— pincers," groaned Ray wood, "for extracting— oh ! man, couldn't you pull it out ? " or THE SKA AND THE llOOKIIS. fj "Easily." said Churlio. with a „„ile. ..iVo got a pair of forceps-ulways carry the,,, in case of need but never use tl.em unless the patient is very bad, and muti have it out." Poor Itaywood protested, with another groan, that Ins was a case in point, and it ,nust come ont; so Charhe sought for and found his forcei '• "It won't take long, I suppose 1" said the patient rather nervously, as he opened his mouth. ■ "Oh no. Only a moment or " A fearful yell, followed by a gasp, announced to the whole sh.p-3 company that a crisis of some sort had been passed by some one, and the expert though amateur dentist congratulated his patient on L deliverance from the enemy. Witt? '^7 "' "■* ""P'^ """"^'"y- ^°^'>^''' I""! witnessed the operation. One was Dick Darvall the seaman who chanced to be steering at the time' and who could see through the open skylight what was being enacted in the cabin. Another was the captain, who stood beside him. The third was the cabm-boy, Will Ward, who chanced to be cleaning .ome brasses about the skylight at the time, and was transfixed by what we may style delightfully. honible sensations. These three watched the pro- eeedings with profound interest, some sympathy and not a little amusement. ^' "Mind your helm, Darvall," said the Captain, stiHin&ralaiiah aafVia -.rrvii i? i . , „ _.. .,.,. .....^ j^^^ ii;ierrea to bur St on his ears. 68 CHAUUK TO THK nESOUE : A TALI 4 'ii m "Ay, ay, sir," reflponcied tho seaman, bringiug \m mind bock to his duty, as ho bestowed a wink on tho brass-polishing cabin-boy. "He's up to everything," said Darvall in a low voice, referring to our hero. " From pitch -and- toss to manslaughter," responded the boy, with a broad grin. " I do believe, Mr. Brooke, that you can turn your hand to anything," said Captain Stride, as Charlie came on deck a few minutes later. " Did you ever study doctoring or surgery ? " "Not regularly," answered Charlie; "but oc- casionally I 'vo had the chance of visiting hospitals and dissecting-rooms, besides hearing lectures on anatomy, and I have taken advantage of my oppor- tunities. Besides, I'm fond of mechanics; and tooth-drawing is somewhat mechanical. Of course I make no pretension to a knowledge of regular dentistry, which involves, I believe, a scientific and prolonged education." "May be so, Mr. Brooke," returned the captain, "but your knowledge seems deep and extensive enough to me, for, except in the matter o' navigation, I haven't myself had much schoolin', but I do like to see a fellow that can use his hands. As I said to my missus, not two days before I left 'er : ' Maggie,' says I, ' a man that can't turn his hands to anything ain't worth his salt. For why? He 's useless at sea, an', by consequence, can't be of much value on land.'" OF TIIK HKA AND THE HOCKIES. et "Your reasoning ,, unan.wemblo," rctwued Charlie, with a laugli. ^ " N»t .0 auro o' that," rejoined tho captain, with « modestly dubiou, shako of hi. hea.1; ■• leastwise however unanswerable it may be, my missus alway, manages to answer it— somehow." At that moment one of tho sailors came aft to relieve the man-at-the-wheel. Dick Darvall was a grave, tall, dark, and hand, some man of about five-and-twen-y. with a huge black beard, as line a seaman as one couhl wish to .eo standing at a ship's helm, but he limped when lie left his post and went forward. "How's the leg to-day, Darvall 1" asked young Brooke, as the man passed. "Better, sir, tliankee." "That's weU. I 'II change the dressing in half- nn-hour. Don't disturb it till I co „e." "Thankee, sir, I won't." "Now then, Eaywood." said Charlie, desceudin- to he cabin, where his patient was already busy reading Maury's Pky^cal Geography of tlu Sea, lot s have a look at the gum." "Oh, it 's all right," said Eaywood. " U you know, I think ono of the uses of severe pain is to make one inexpressibly thankful for the mere absence of It. Of course there is a little sensation of pain eft which might make me growl at other times, but . ^ .....,^, uvuiiuiiuuic now by contrast ! " 70 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 'III 1 11 il 'I 11 iiiii " There is profound sagacity in your observations," returned Charlie, as he gave the gum a squeeze that for a moment or two removed the comfort ; " there, now, don't suck it, else you '11 renew the bleeding. Keep your mouth shut." With this caution the amateur dentist left the cabin, and proceeded to the fore-part of the vessel. In passing the steward's pantry a youthful voice arrested him. " Oh, please, sir," said Will Ward, the cabin-boy, advancing with a slate in his hand, " I can't make out the sum you set me yesterday, an' I 'm quite sure I've tried and tried as hard as ever I could to understand it." "Let me see," said his friend, taking the slate and sitting down on a locker. "Have you read over the rule carefully ? " " Yes, sir, I have, a dozen times at least, but it won't come right," answered the boy, with wrinkles enough on his young brow to indicate the very depths of puzzlement. "Fetch the book. Will, and let's examine it." The book was brought, and at his teacher's re- quest the boy read : — "Add the interest to the principal, and then multiply by " " Multiply?" said Charlie, interrupting. " Look! " He pointed to the sum on the slate, and repeated " multiply." re- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 71 " Oh ! " exclaimed the cabin-boy, with a gasp of reli3f and wide-open eyes, " I Ve divided 1 " " That 's so, Will, and there 's a considerable differ- ence between division and multiplication, as you '11 find all through life," remarked the teacher, with a peculiar lift of his eyebrows, as he handed back the slate and went on his way. More than once in his progress "for'ard" he was arrested by men who wished him to give advice, or clear up difficulties in reference to subjects which his encouragement or example had induced them to take up, and to these claims on his attention or assistance he accorded such a ready and cheerful response that his pupils felt it to be a positive pleasure to appeal to him, though they each pro- fessed to regret giving him " trouble." The boat- swain, who was an amiable though gruff man in his way, expressed pretty well the feelings of the ship's company towards our hero when he said : " I tell you, mates, I 'd sooner la rubbed up the wrong way, an' kicked down the fore hatch by Mr. Brooke, than I 'd be smoothed or buttered by anybody else." At last the fo'c'sl was reached, and there our surgeon found his patient, Dick Darvall, awaiting him. The stout seaman's leg had been severely bruised by a blcck which had fallen from aloft and struck it during one of the recent gales. " A good deal better to-day," said Charlie. " Does it pain you much ? " 1 1 9 (9 o M it I- (I (I {J •J ;■ 72 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Not nearly as much as it did yesterday, sir. It 's my opinion that I '11 be all right in a day or two. Seems t about it. me outrageous to make so much ado " If we didn't take care of it, my man, it might cost you your limb, and we can't afford to bury such a well-made member before its time! You must give it perfect rest for a day or two. I '11 speak to the captain about it." " I 'd rather you didn't, sir," objected the seaman. "I feel able enough to go about, and my mates '11 think I 'm shirkin' dooty." " There 's not a man a-board as '11 think that o' Dick Darvall," growled the boatswain, who had just entered and heard the last remark. "Eight, bo's'n," said Brooke, "you have well ex- pressed the thought that came into my own head." "Have ye seen Samson yet, air?" asked the boatswain, with an unusually grave look. " No ; I was just going to inquire about him. No worse, I hope ? " " I think he is, sir. Seems to me that he ain't long for this world. The life 's bin too much for him : he never was cut out for a sailor, an' he takes things so much to heart that I do believe worry is doin' more than work to drive him on the rocks." " I '11 go and see h im at once," said our hero. Fred Samson, the sick man referred to, had been put into a swing-cot in a berth amidships to give 11 1 I'll No OF THE SEA AND THK ROCKIES. 73 him as much rest as possible. To all appearance he was slowly dying of consumption. When Brooke entered he was leaning on one elbow, gazing wist- fully through the port-hole close to his head. His countenance, on which the stamp of death was evidently imprinted, was unusually refined for one m his station in Ufe. " I'm glad you have come, Mr. Brooke," he said slowly, as his visitor advanced and took his thin hand. "My poor fellow," said Charlie, in a tone of low but tender sympathy, «I wish with all my heart I could do you any good." " The sight of your kind face does me good " returned the sailor, with a pause for breath between almost every other word. "I don't want you to doctor me any more. I feel that I 'm past that, but 1 want to P:Tve you a message and a packet for my mother. Of course you will be in London when • you return to England. Will you find her out and deliver the packet ? It contains only the Testament she gave me at parting and a letter." "My dear fellow-you may depend on me" rephed Brooke earnestly. « Where does she live ? '" ''In Whitechapel. The full address is on the packet. The letter enclosed tells all that I have to say." " But you spoke of a message," said Brooke, seeing that he paused and shut his oimc ■ii i, 3 , 74 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " Yes, yes," returned the dying man eagerly, " I forgot. Give her my dear love, and say that my last thoughts were of herself and God. She always feared that I was trusting too much in myself— in my own good resolutions and reformation; so I have been— but that 's past. Tell her that God in His mercy has snapped that broken reed altogether, and enabled me to rest my soul on Jesus." As the dying man was much exhausted by his efforts to speak, his visitor refrained from asking more questions. He merely whispered a comforting text of Scripture and left him apparently sinking into a state of repose. Then, having bandaged the finger of a man who had carelessly cut himself while using his knife aloft, Charlie returned to the cabin to continue an interrupted discussion with the first mate on the subject of astronomy. From all which it will be seen that our hero's tendencies inclined him to be as much as possible " all things to all men." TH£ freque: and in often 1 — ^resu] Soon to in tl: the Pa pletion engaged this bui bottom with lit years, each bei of W(\"k proop' !y i«ight b< labours \ ing had OF TUB SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 'g 75 CHAPTER VI. BiSAsran, siinvATioH, akd Diaiii, The least observant of mortals muat have frequently been impressed with the fact that events often Sf °' '" ''PP"*""^ *"«'»g -J-^iption iTsulL '"°°'«'"<'««-=o'netimes tremendous to fnT "^rV"! '"''""'""' ""f "■« ^"''■dents referred the Pacific Ocean were drawing towards the com- pletron of a buildiug on which they had been engaged for a long time. Li':e some lighthouses "toroti^trrdr-^-^^^^^ pITk • T ^'"^ ""*" '"^'g^ificant creatures » ,! ■ t r^' ; '^"- " '' ''^'^ "^^^^ '^^'-'^ to do S r ';"! '"""'"'" °' ^"""8 -'-t tl^e result n ght be, and then ending his, her. r its modest aboura with Hfe. It was when this marine WH «g had nsen to within eight or ton feet of the l! I ■1 ! ■ - n t~ 'I () i; ii I' * p •i M^^ 76 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 111 surface of tlie sea that the Walrm chanced to draw near to it, but no one on board was aware of the existence of that coral-reef, for up to the period we write of it had failed to attract the attention of chart-makers. The vessel was bowling along at a moderate rate over a calm sea, for the light breeze overhead that failed to ruffle the water filled her topsails. Had the wind been stormy a line of breakers would have indicated the dangerous reef. As it was there was nothing to tell that the good ship was rushing on her doom till she struck with a violent shock and remained fast. Of course Captain Stride was equal to the emer- gency. By the quiet decision with which he went about and gave his orders he calmed the fears of such of his crew as were apt to " lose their heads " in the midst of sudden catastrophe. "Lowor away the boats, lads. We'll get her off right away," he said, in a quick but quiet tone. Charlie Brooke, being a strong believer in strict discipline, at once ran to obey the order, accom- panied by the most active among the men, while others ran to slack off the sheets and low^.r the topsails. In a few minutes nearly all the men were in the boats, with hawsers fixed to the stern of the vessel, doing their uttermost to pull her off. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. JJ Charlie had been ordered to remain on deck when the crew took to the boats. •■Come here, Mr. Brooke, I want you," said the _Capta.n leading his young Triend to tke 1 n is done'^2::!"" '^ "^ "■"' '--^ P- «•'• «'«'- anl'ions ::;? ""' ""'■ "^•" -'^ «'>"1^«. "^th tumt, '.'J''^"'"' ^'" °*"'^ *« I"""""." re- turned he Captain, with unwonted gravity "If she don t move in a few minutes, I -11 try wha i'eavmg out some o' the cargo will do. As super cargo, you know where ifs all stowed, so, if yT' , pmt out to me which is the least valooaMe, an' a he same t:me heaviest part of it. I -11 send vhe ma e and four men to git it on deck. But to tell you the t^th even if we do git her off I don't think she 1 float. She's an oldish craft, not fit to have he bottom rasped on coral rocks. But we'll soon See. Charlie could not help observing that there was somethmg peculiarly sad in the Le of the 2 mans voice. Whether it was that the poor capta n knew the case to be utterly hopeless, or that he%^s overwhelmed by this calamity coming upon him so nTteit T: rf "' ''' '^' ^•>'P:CiLlie tuld not ten, but he had no time to think, for after he had pomted out to the mate the bales that could be most easily spared he was again summoned aft HI i i "!l I f 78 CHARLIE TO THE RRSCUE : A TALE m ^ i! "Sho don't move," said the captain, gloomily. " Wo must git the boats ready, for if it comes on to blow only a little harder we '11 have to take to 'em. So do you and the stooard putt your heads together an' git up as much provisions as you think the boats will safely carry. Only necessaries, of course, an' take plenty o' water. I '11 see to it that charts, compasses, canvas, and other odds and ends are ready." Again young Brooke went off, without saying a word, to carry out his instructions. Meanwhile one of the boats was recalled, and her crew set to lighten the ship by heaving part of the cargo overboard. Still the Walrus remained immovable on the reef, for the force with which she struck had sent her high upon it. •' If we have to take to the boats, sir," said Charlie, when he was disengaged, "it may be well to put some medicines on board, for poor Samson will " " Ay, ay, do so, lad," said the captain, interrupt- ing; "I've been thinkin' o' that, an' you may as well rig up some sort o' couch for the poor fellow in the long-boat, for I mean to take him along wi' myself." " Are you so sure, then, that there is no chance of our getting her off ?" "Quite sure. Look there." He pointed, as he spoke, to the horizon to windward, where a line of cloud rested on the sea. That'll not be long o' « I or THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. Jf comin- here It won't blow veiy hard, but it'll be hard enough to smash the old H^cUtk, to bits » you ve got any valooablcs aboard that you 'd rather "ot lose you 'd better stud' 'em in your pockets now. When things come to the wust mind your helm, an' look out, as I used to say to my missus " He stopped abruptly and turned away. Evidently the thought of the "missus" was too mueh for him just then. Charlie Brooke hurried off to visit the sick man and prepare him for the sad change in his oositio.' that had now become unavoidable. But another visitor had been to see the invalid before him. Entering the berth softly, and with a quiet look, so as not to agitate the patient needlessly, he found to i«s regret, though not surprise, that poor Fred Sam- son was dead. There was a smile on the pale face, which was turned towards the port window, as i^ the dying man had been taking a last look of the sea and sky when Death laid a hand gently on his brow and smoothed away the wrinkles of suirerintr and care. A letter from his mother, held tightly in one hand and pressed upon his breast told elo- quently what was the subject of his last thoughts Charlie cut a lock of hair from the sailor's brow with his clasp-knife, and, taking the letter gently irom the dead hand, wrapped it therein. "There's no time t» bury him now. His berth must be the poor fellow's coffin," said Captain Stride 1 t 80 'mm ■ 1 OIIARLIK ro IU« BESCDl : A TAM wl.en tho death w,« reported to hiu,. "The ,woll o the coromg squall has reached us already. Look ahve wi- the boats, men I " By that tin.e tho rising swell was in truth lifting the vessel every few seconds and letting l.or down wuh a soft thud on the coral reef. It so'on hecar: ev dent to every one on board that the mirus had not many hours to live-perhaps not n.any minutes -for the squall to which tho Captain had referred was rap.dly bearing down, and each successi e Zd became more violent than tho previous one. Know- 2 'he^ danger full well, the men worked with a -.11 and m a few minutes three boats, well pro- visioned, were floating on the sea. ^ lonf boat f "''"' "'' '" """«'<='«"' «-' *e long-boat-drawmg as she did considerably moro water than the others-touched twice when tl swells let her drop into their hollows It was arranged that Charlie should go in the ong boat wxth the captain, Eaywood the passen^^ and ten men of the crew. The remainder were to be divided between the other two boats which were in "tin '"' T""""'" ""'^^ *« ^"P'"'"' '^ he sat m the tern-sheets looking up at our hero, who wa busily engaged assisting the first mate to com- plete the arrangements of his boat, "weVe struck t he swell ^ Look h lifting or down became ^rus had minutes referred ve thud ICnow- with a II pro- for the lat the more m the in the anger, 3re to were fficers e sat who com- /ruck t twice ready 1 or TlIK SEA AND HIE IIOCKIBS. 81 «lren.Iy. I n,u,t ahovo off. la Ifnywood _apta.D " Yo« a,,' Raywood can oome „fr with on! 1 10 other boats r 'ii („r °"'' deepwater-CeoVir"^"' """'^ '^'- - luiiowea. jvo time to lose !" The p^ ^„^,,^^ ^^ ■ 1.0 side, and took his scat beside Charlie mt a tie >ou« threatened squall burst upon then, ' "'" walr wHhr "" r '' ""' ''"^ """•=" -'o deep water w,th the seeond date's boat, whieh had already' Fortunate was it for the whole crew that Captain Stnde had provided for every emergencv andTh! among other safeguards, he hL pntirrCt .nLT. T ^°''^- ^°' ^"l' these they were h ^' Ji^i f • i; ii ^ ^^.^< r«.v^< IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^0 1.0 1.1 11.25 ^1^ 1^ 6" 0^, Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.>. 14580 (716) 872-4503 4> 82 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE the Utmost attention of each steersman to keep his craft afloat, and when at last the light began to fade the boats were almost out of sight of each other. "No chance, I fear, of our ever meeting again," remarked the mate, as he cast a wistful look at the southern horizon where the sail of the long-boat could be barely seen like the wing of a sea-gull. "Your lot has been cast with us, Mr. Brooke, so you *11 have to make the best of it." " I always try to make the best of things," replied CharUe. " My chief regret at present is that Eay- wood and I, being two extra hands, will help to consume your provisions too fast." " Luckily my appetite is a poor one," said Ray- wood, with a faint smile; "and it's not likely to improve in the circumstances." " I 'm iiot so sure o' that, sir," returned the mate, with an air that was meant to be reassuring ; " fresh air and exposure have effected wonders before now in the matter of health— so they say. Another pull on the halyards, Dick ; that looks like a fresh squall. Mind your sheets. Will Ward." A prompt "Ay, ay, sir "from Dick Darvall and the cabin-boy showed that each was alive to the importance of the duty required of him, while the other men— of whom there were six— busied them- selves in making the tarpaulin coverings more secure, or m baling out the water which, in spite of them, had found its way into the boat. OF THE SBA AND THE KOCKIES. 83 Charlie rose and seated himself on the thwart tot:' f """"""^ '^'^^ ^'^-^ ^-^ - a^ to have a clearer view ahead under the sa^ Long-boat nowhere to be seen now" he m,.r mured half to himself after a long look in '7°' '"T"" ""' °*'"' '""'* "'•'«'•" »"« Danrall L:.r«' vo:ce. "We shaU never see W no "I hope you are wrong," returned CharHe • "in deed I feel sure that the weather will clear durilfi iol ToW' """ "* ^""^ '""^ ^''*'' "-"^ »>« "Maybe so, sir," rejoined the sailor, in the tone of one wallu^g to be, but not yet, convi;ced. Our hero was right as to the first, but not as to t^e^cond, point The weather did clear du^th^ mght, bu when the sun arose next morning on a IZT.^ u-/° *""' ^^'-y °''J«'" that could arrest the eye had vanished from the scene leaX^ tiny craft formed the centre. Si i t P 5» n I- ii 84 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE * CHAPTER VII. ADRIFT ON THE 8EA. "You are ill, Will Ward," was Dick Durvall's first remark when there was sufficient daylight to distinguish faces. "You're another!" was the cabin-boy's quick, facetious retort, which caused Darvall to smile and had the effect of rousing the half-sleeping crew. " But you are ill, my boy," repeated the seaman earnestly. "No, Dick, not exactly ill," returned Will, with a faint smile, " but I 'm queer." Each man had spent that stormy night on the particular thwart on whiux he had chanced to sit down when he first entered the boat, so that all were looking more or less weary, but seamen are used to uncomfortable and interrupted slumbers. They soon roused themselves and began to look about and make a few comments on the weather. Some, re- curring naturally to their beloved indulgence, pulled out their pipes and filled them. "Have 'ee a light, Jim ? " asked a rugged man, in a sleepy tone, of a comrade behind him. f *v f 4 OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 86 " No, Jack, I haven't," answered Jim, in a less sleepy tone, slapping all his pockete and thrusting his hands into them. "Have you, Dick?" asked the rugged man in some anxiety. "No, I haven't," replied Darvall, in a very serious voice, as he also took to slapping his pockets : "no — nor baccy!" It was curious to note at this point how every seaman in that boat became suddenly sympathetic and wide awake, and took to hasty, anxious examina- tion of all his pockets-vest, jackr.., and trousers. The result was the discovery of a good many clay pipes, more or less blackened and shortened, with a few plugs of tobacco, but not a single match, either fusee or congreve. The men looked at each other with something akin to despair. "Was no matches putt on board wi' the grub an' other things ?" asked Jim in a solemn tone. "And no tobacco ?" inquired the mate. No one could answer in the affirmative. A general sigh-like a miniature squall-burst from the sailors, and relieved them a little. Jim put his pipe between his lips, and meekly began, if we may say so, to smoke his tobacco dry. At an order from the mate the men got out the oars and began to pull, for there was barely enough wind to fill the sail. "No rest for us, lads, 'cept when it blows," said i f4 il K ii BB CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE the mate. " The nearest land that I know of is five hundred miles off as the crow flies. We 'vo got a compass by good luck, so we can make for it but the grub on board won't hold out for quarter o'\hat distance, so, unless we fall in with a ship, or fish jump aboard of us, ye know what 's before us." "Have we any spirits aboard?" asked the rugged man, in a growling, somewhat sulky, voice. "Hear— hear!" exclaimed Jim. "No, Jack," returned the mate; "at least not for the purpose o' lettin' you have 'a short Ufe an' a merry ,one.' Now, look here, men : it has pie .sed Providence to putt you an' me in something of a fix and I shouldn't wonder if we was to have some stiffish experiences before we see the end of it. It has also pleased Providence to putt me here in command. You know I 'm not given to boastin' but there are times when it is advisable to have' plam speakin'. There is a smaU supply of spirits aboard, and I just want to tell 'ee-merely as a piece of useful information, and to prevent any chance o' future trouble-that as I've got charge o' them spirits I mean to keep chaise of 'em." The mate spoke in a low, soft voice, without the slightest appearance of threat or determination in his manner, but as he concluded he unbuttoned his pilot-cloth coat, and pointed to the butt of a revolver which prbtruded from one of his vest pockets. The men made no reply, but instinctively glanced lijl OF THE SEA AND THE ROOKIES. 87 at the two biggest and strongest men in the boat These were Charlie Brooke and Dick Darvall Obviously, before committing themselves further they wished, if possible, to read in the faces of these' two what they thought of the mate's speech. They failed to read much, if anything at all, for Charlie's eyes were fixed in dreamy expressionless abstraction on the horizon, and Dick was gazing up into the clouds, with a look of intense benignity-suggestinc that he was holding pleasant intercourse with any celestial creatures who might be resident there. Without a word the whole crew bent to their oars and resigned themselves to the inevitable. Perhaps' if each man had expressed his true feelings at that moment he would have said that he was glad to know there was a firm hand at the helm. For there are few things more uncomfortable in any com- munity, large or small, than the absence of disci- plme, or the presence of a weak will in a position of power. "But I say, Will," remarked Darvall, who pulled the stroke-oar, "you really do look ill.' Is anything the matter with 'ee ?" '' o "Nothin', Dick; 'cept that I'm tired," answered the cabin-boy. "Breakfast will put that right," said our hero in an encouraging tone. "Let's feel your pulse. Hm ! Well, might be slower. Come, Captain," he added, giving the mate his new title as he turned to if Sli«40^ ti CHARLIE TO THR RESCUF : A TAT.R 'Mi a him, « will you allow me to prescribe breakfast for this patient ?" " Certainly. Doctor." returned the mate cheerily. " Come, lads, we '11 all have breakfast together." In a few minutes the biscuit and salt junk barrels were opened, and the mate measured out an exactly equal proportion of food to each man. Then following the example of a celebrated commander.' and m order to prevent dissatisfaction on the part of any with his portion, he caused one of the men to turn his back on the food, and, pointing to one of the portions said, " Who shall have this ?" "The Doctor, sir," returned the man promptly. The portion was immediately handed to Charlie Brooke amid a general laugh. Thus every portion was disposed of, and the men sat down to eat in good-humour, in spite of the too evident fact that they had been at once placed on short allov ance. for, when each had finished, he assuredly wished for more, though no one ventured to give expression to the wish. The only exception was the little cabin-boy, who made a brave attempt to eat, but utterly failed at the second mouthful. "Come, Will," said Charlie in a kindly tone, pre- tending to misunderstand the state of matters "don't try to deceive yourself by prolonging your breakfast. That won't make more of it. See, here I'm not up to eating much to-day, somehow, so I'll OF THE 8«A AND THE ROOKIES. 89 b« greatly obliged if you will diapoae cf half of mine M well as your own. Next time I am hungry, and you are not, I '11 expect you to do the same " But Will Ward could not be thus induced to eat He was really ill, and before night was in a high fever. You may be sure that Dr. Brooke, as every suff rer, but, of course, he could do very little, for a 1 the medicmes which he had prepared had been put mto the long-boat, and, in a small open boat, with no comforts, no medicines, and on short allow- ance of food, little could be done, except to give the boy a space of the floor on which to lie, to shield him from spray, and to cover him with blankets. For a week the boat was carried over the sea by a fresh, steady breeze, during which time the sun shone out frequently, so that things seemed not so wretched as one might suppose to the shipwrecked manners. Of course the poor cabin-boy was an exception. Although his feverish attack was a shght one he felt very weak and misemble after it. His appetite began to return, however, and it was evident that the short daily allowance would be insufficient for him. When this point was reached Dick Darvall one day, when rations were being served out, ventured to deliver an opinion "Captain and mates all," he said, while a sort of bashful smile played upon his sunburnt features "it do seem to me that we should agree, each man, to m m i^ I M i t.i ^11 1 i ill rl t 9 i, 00 ciiARrjp: TO Tin? rescue : a tale give up a share of our rations to little Will Ward, so that ho may be able to feed up a bit an' git the better o' this here sickness. We won't feel the want of such a little crumb each, an' he '11 be ever so much the better for it." "Agreed," chorused the men, apparently without exception. "All right, lads," said the mate, while a rare smile lighted up for a moment his usually stern countenance ; " when the need for such self-denial comes I '11 call on ye to exercise it, but it ain't called for yet, because I 've been lookin' after the interests 0' Will Ward while he 's been ill. Justice, you see, stands first o' the virtues in ray mind, an' it 's my opinion that it wouldn't be justice, but something very much the reverse, if we were to rob the poor boy of his victuals just because he couldn't eat them." "Right you are, sir," interposed Dick DarvalL " Well, then, holdin' these views," continued the mate, "I have put aside Will Ward's share every time the rations were served, so here 's what belongs to him—in this keg for the meat, and this bag for the biscuit—ready for him to fall-to whenever his twist is strong enough." . There were marks of hearty approval, mingled with laughter, among the men on hearing this, but they stopped abruptly and listened for more on observing a perplexed look on their leader's face. or TIIR SKA AND THE ROCKIES. 91 " But there 'g something that puzzles mo about it lads, resumed the mate, "and it is this, that the «rub has somehow accumulated faster than I can account for, considering the smalluess o' the addition to the lot each time." On I'earing this the men were a little surprised, but Charlie Brooke burst into a short laugh. "What I" ho exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that the victuals have taken root and begun to grow, do you 1" "I don't mean to m}/ anything," returned the mate quietly; "but I'm inclined to think a good deal jf you 've no objection, Doctor." "How d'eefeelnow, Will?" said CharIie,8tooping forward at the moment, for he observed that the boy-whose bed was on the floor at his feet-had moved and was gazing up at him with eyes that seemed to have grown enormously since their owner fell sick. "I feel queer-and-and-I 'm inclined to think. too, returned Will in a faint voice. Nothing more was said at that time, for a sudden shift in the wind necessitated a shift of the sail, but Dick Darvall nodded his head significantly, and it «tme to be understood that " Doctor " Brooke had regularly robbed himself of part of his meagre allowance in order to increase the store of the cabto- boy. Whether they were right in this conjecture has never been distinctly ascertained. liut all •i CRARUR TO TOE RR8CUI : A TALI attempta to benefit the boy were soon after fhistrated for. wlulo life wiu, little more than trembling in the balance with Will Ward, a gale burst «iH)n them which sealed his fate. It was not the rougher motion of the l>oat that did It. for the boy was used to that ; nor the flashing of the salt spray inboard, for his comrades guarded him to some extent from that During the alarm caused by a wave which nearly swamped the boat two of the crew in their panic seized the first things' that came to hand and flung them overboard to pre- vent their sinking. whUe the rest baled with cans and sou'-westers for their lives. The portion of ading thus sacrificed turned out to bo the staff of life— the casks of biscuit and pork I It was a terrible shock to these unfortunates when the full extent of the calamity was underatood, and the firmness of the mate, with a sight of the revolver alone prevented summary vengeance being executed on the wretKjhed men who had acted so hastily in their blind terror. Only a small keg of biscuit remained to them This was soon expended, and then the process of absolute starvation began. Every nook and cranny of the boat was searched again and again in the hope of something eatable being found, but only a small pot of lard-intended probably to grease the tackhng-was discovered. With a dreadful expres- sion in their eyes some of the men glared at it ^nd or TH« SEA AND TOI! ROCKIKII. {3 Ihore would, no ,l«ubt. havo boon a deadly struRsIo for It If the maU> had not wid, " Fetch it how " in , voice which none dared to disobey. It formed butamouthful toeach.yet the poor («|. lows devoured it with the grce.I of ravenin„ wolves and carefully licked tl.oir HnKor, when it w«, done." The little cabin-boy h,ul three portions allotted to hmi, because Charlie Hrooko and Dick Darvall added their allowance to his without allowing him to bo aware of the fact. But the extra allowance and kindness, althouoh hey added greatly to his comfort, could not stay the hand of Death. Slowly but surely the Destroyer came and claimed the young life. It was a sweet calm evening when the summons came. The sea was like glass, with only that long, gentle swell vhich tells even in the profoundest calm of Ocean's ...stability. The sky was intensely blue, save on the western horizon, whore the sun turned it into Hold. It seemed as if all Nature were quietly indif- forent to the sufferings of the shipwrecked men some of whom had reached that terrible condition of starvation when all the softer feelings of humanity seem dead, for, although no whisper of their intention passed the.r lips, their looks told all too plainly that they awaited the death of the cabin-boy with im- patience, that they might appease the intolerable pangs of hunger by resorting to cannibaUsm Charlie Brooke, who had been comforting the t « J !] (I I M I « I] f m ii 94 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE ttmimv imr dying lad all day, and whispering t,o him words of consolation from God's book from time to time, knew well what those looks meant. So did the mate, who sat grim, gaunt, Pnd silent at h?s post, taking no notice apparently of what went on arourd him. Fortunately the poor boy was too far gone to ob&erve the looks of his mates. Thers was a can of paraffin oil, which had been thrown into the boat under the impression that it was something else. This had been avoided hitherto by the starving men, who deemed it to be poisonous. That evening the man called Jim lost control of himself, seized the can, and took a long draught of the oil. vv'hether it was the effect of that we can- not tell, but it seemed to drive him mad, for no sooner had he swallowed it than he uttered a wild shout, drew his knife, sprang up and leaped towards the place where the cabin-boy lay. The mate, who hf.d foreseen something of the kind, drew and levelled his revolver, but before he could lire Charlie had caught the uplifted arm, wrested the knife from the man, and thrust him violently back. Thus foiled Jim sprang up again and with a maniac's yell leaped into the sea, and swam resolutely away. Even in their dire extremity the sailors could not see a comrade perish with indifference. They jumped up, hastily got out the oars, and pulled after him, but their arms were very weak ; before they f OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 96 could overtake him the man had sunk to rise no more. It was while tliis scene was being enacted that the spirit of the cabin-boy passed away. On ascertain- iiig that he was dead Charlie covered him with a tarpaulin where he lay, but no word was uttered by pny one, and the mate, with revolver stiU in hand sat there— grim and silent— holding the tiller as' if steering, and gazing sternly on the horizon Yet It was not difficult to divine the thoughts of those unhappy and sorely tried men. Some by their savage glare at the cover that concealed the dead body showed plainly their dreadful desires Brooke, Darvall, and the mate showed as clearly by their compressed lips and stern brows that they would resist any attempt to gratify these. Suddenly the mate's brow cleared, and his eyes opened wide as he muttered, under his breath " A sail!" "A sail! a sail !» shrieked the man in the bow at the same moment, as he leaped up and tried to cheer, but he only gasped and fell back in a swoon into a comrade's arms. It was indeed a sail, which soon grew larger, and ere long a ship was descried bearing straight towards them before a very light breeze. In less than an hour the castaways stood upon her deck — saved- 96 CHAKUE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE CHAPTER VIII. INORATITUDB. A YEAR or more passed away, and then there came a cablegram from New York to Jacob Cross)ey, Esquire, from Captain Stride. The old gentleman was at breakfast when he received it and his housekeeper, Mrs. Bland, was in the act of setting before him a dish of buttered toast when he opened the envelope. At the first glance he started up, overturned his cup of cofifee, with- out paying the least attention to the fact, and exclaimed with emphasis— " As I expected. It is lost!" " 'Ow could you expect it, sir, to be anythink else, w'en you've sent it all over the table-cloth?" said Mrs. PJand, in some surprise. "It is not that, Mrs. Bland," said Mr. Crossley, m a hurried manner; "it is my ship the Walrus'. Of course I knew long ago that it must have been lost," continued the old gentleman, speaking his thoughts more to himself than to the housekeeper, who was carefully spooning up the spilt coffee- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 97 best of it is that the Captain has "but the escaped." "Well, I'm sure, sir," said Mrs. Bland, conde- scendmg to be interested, and to ignore, if not to for- get, the coflfee, " I 'm very glad to 'ear it, sir, for Captain Stride is a pleasant, cheery sort of man, and would be agreeable company if 'e didn't use so much • sea-languidge, and speak so much of 'is missis. An' I 'm glad to 'ear it too, sir, on account o' that fine young man that sailed with 'im-Mr. Book, I think was " * "No, Mrs. Bland, it was Brooke; but that's the worst of the business," said the old gentleman ; « I 'm not quite sure whether young Brooke is among the saved. Here is what the telegram says :-— "'From Captain Stride to Jacob Crossley. Just arrived' (that's in New York, Mrs. Bland)- • Walrus lost. All hands left her in three boats! Our boat made uninhabited island, and knocked to pieces. Eight months on the island. Eescued by American barque. Fate of other boats unknown. Will be home within a couple of weeks.' " " Why, it sounds like BoHnson Crusoe, sir, don't it? which I read when I was quite a gurl, but I don't believe it myself, though they do say it 's all true Young Mr. Leather will be glad to 'ear the good " noos of 'is friend " "But this is not good news of his friend; if. ?« "eman on mceil genth {; III ■ ! I r ♦, I 98 CHARLIE TO THE KESOUE : A TALK k H quickly. "Now 1 think of it, Mrs. Ulaud, Mr. Luatlujr is to cull liui'(5 by appointinont this very inoniing, so you imist bo particuljuly careful not to say a word to him about this tolograin, or Captain Stride, or anytliiug 1 havo told you about tho lost ship—you understand, Mrs. IJlund ?" "Certainly, sir," said tjje liousekeepor, somowhat hurt by the doubt thus iniidied as to tho caimeity of her understanding. "Shall I bring you some more toast, sir ? " she added, with tho virtuous feeling that by this question she was returning good for evil. "No, thank you. Now, Mrs. lUand, don't forgot. Not a word about this to any one." "'Ooks an' rcd-'ot pincers wouldn't draw a syl- lable out of me, sir," retuined tho good woman, departing with an offended air, and leaving her master to understand that, in her opinion, such instruments might have a very different effect upon hivi. "Ass tliat I was to speak of it to her at all." muttered Mr. Crossloy, walking up and down the room with spectacles on forehead, and with both hands in his trousers-pockets creating disturbance among the keys and coppers. " I might have known that she could not hold her tongue. It would never do to let Mrs. Brooke remain on the tenter-hooks till Stride conies home to clear the matter up. Poor Mrs. Brooke ! No wonder she is almost broken down.. This hoping against hope is so wearing. And she 's OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 99 'i: such upon so lonely. To be sure, sweet May Leather runs out and in like a beam of sunsliine ; but it must be hard, very hard, to lose an only son in this way. It would be almost better to know that he was dead. Il'm ! and thine 's tliat good-for-nothing Shank. The mscul ! and yet lie 's not absolutely good for nothing —if he would only give up drink. Well, while there 's life tliere 's hope, thank God ! I '11 give him another trial." The old man's brow was severely wrinkled while he indulged in these mutterings, but it cleared, and a kindly look beamed on his countenance as he gave vent to the last expression. Just then the door bell rang. Mr. Crossley re- sumed the grave look that was habitual to him, and next minute Shank Leather was ushered into the room. The youth was considerably changed since we last met him. The year which had passed had developed him into a man, and clothed his upper lip with something visible to the naked eye. It had also lengthened his limbs, deepened his chest, and broadened his shoulders. But here the change for the better ended. In that space of time there had come over him a decided air of dissipation, and the freshness suitable to y -vfh had disappeared. With a look that was somewhat defiant he entered the room an^l look^'l bni/iiTT o*. uco 1 " Be seated, Mr. Leather," said the old gentleman ( I Ill III ; 1: DM I) i! 100 CHAnLIE TO THE KBSOUB : A TALI in a voice SO soft that the young man evidently felt abashed, but he as evidently steeled himself against better feelings, for he replied— "Thank you, Mr. Crossley, I 'd rather stand." "As you please," returned the other, restraining ...nself "I sent for you, Mr. Leather, to tell you that I have heard with sincere regret of your last outbreak, and " " Yes sir," said Shank, rudely interrupting, "and • I came here not so much to hear what you have to say about my outbreak-as you are pleased to style a little joll,fieation-as to tell you that you had better provide yourself with another clerk for I don't intend to return to your office. I 've eot a better situation." " Oh, indeed !" exclaimed Crossley in surprise. Yes, indeed," replied Shank insolently. It was evident that the youth was, even at that moment, under the influence of his great enemv else his better feelings would have prevented him from speaking so rudely to a man who had never shown him anything but kindness. But he was nettled by some of his bad companions havin. taunted him with his slavery to his besetting sin° and had wsponded to Mr. Crossley's summons under the impression that he was going to get what he styled a " wigging." He was therefore taken some- what aback when the old gentleman replied to his last remurk gently. OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 101 ntly felt against id." training ell you )ur last ?, " and liave to ;o style 3U had , for I got a 36. t that nemy, I him never ) was aving ? sin, mder it he ome- 3 his "I congratulate you, Mr. Leather, on getting a better situation (if it really should turn out to be better), and I sincerely hope it may— for your mother's sake as well as your own. This therefore disposes of part of my object in asking you to call— which was to say that I meant to pass over this offence and retain you in my employment. But it does not supersede the necessity of my urging you earnestly to give up drink, not so much on the ground that it will surely lead you to destruction as on the consideration that it grieves the loving Father who has bestowed on you the very powers of enjoyment which you are now prostituting, and who is at this moment holding out His hands to you and waiting to be gracious." The old man stopped abruptly, and Shank stood with eyes fixed on the floor and frowning brow. "Have you anything more to say to me?" asked Mr. Crossley. « Nothing." "Then good-morning. As I can do nothing else to serve you, I will pray for you." Shank found himself in the street with feelings of surprise strong upon him. " Pray for me I " he muttered, as he walked slowly along. "It never occurred to me before that he prayed at all ! The old humbug has more need to nrnv {nr hirnaolf t '» 1 r t m u (I (I \: I s m loa OHAHLIK 10 THE nESCUK: A TALE CTTAl'TER IX. •HANK „.VKAr,3 aoMET..,»a «„„B OV ,m CULAOTEB. leather found himself ere long at his mother's door. ile entered without knocking. "Shank I" exclaimed Mrs. Leather and May in the same breath. "Ay mother, it 's me. A bad shilling, they say always turns up. /always turn up. therefore / am a bad shilling I Sound logic that, eh. May ? " talL^ 1 '^'"^ ■'«■• kMtting-aeedles on the able; you W I'm always glad to see you, but ;egrS'"^''^^^'^-'''^'^^^'^-"»ofyour An7M '"f ''i'"^ ""'PP'""'' ^ " ""^'^ May anxiously. And May looked very sweet, almost pretty, when she was anxious. A year had refined her Lul" her into a httle woman. Indeed, mentally, she had become more of a woman than many giiL in her ^ ._.^ „„„ ,yy^g Jjjy .J^ ^^^^^^ ^^.^ ^^^ .^ OF THE SEA AND TIIK UOCKIKa. 103 nil likelihood one of tho good consequences of ad- versity. "Ay, May, something has happened," answered the youth, flinging himself gaily into an arm-chair and stretching out his legs towards the fire ; " I have thrown up my situation. Struck work. That's all." "Shank I" " Just so. Don't look so horrified, mother; you *ve no occasion to, for I have the offer of a better situa- tion. Besides— ha! ha! old Crossley— close fisted, crabbed, money-making, skin-flint old Crossley— is going to pray for me. Think o' that, mother— going to pray ioi meV* • "Shank, dear boy," returned his mother, "don't jest about religious things." " You don't call old Crossley a religious thing, do you ? Why, mother, I thought you had more re- spect for him than that comes to; you ought at least to consider his years I " " Come, Shank," returned Urn. Leather, with a deprecating smile, " be a good boy and tell me what you mean— and about this new situation." " I just mean that my friend and chum and old schoolfellow Ealph Eitson— jovial, dashing, musical, handsome Ralph — you remember him — has got me a situation in California." "Ralph Ritson?" repeated Mrs. Leather, with a little sigh and an uneasy glance at her daughter, m 104 CIUHLIIS TO Tllli IIKSODE i A TALI Whose face had nushoC at the mention of the ,outh'. I,.7r'"~^"'"'"' ^'""'''' '■» « emver tone, for he has asked h>s son to go out and assist him at a good "alary, and to take a clerk ont with him-a sfout carpentmg, etc., and ready to turn his hand to any th.ng.^andBa,ph has chosen me, What d'ee tS From her silence and expression it was evident ^:s^ziT '''''''-''''' -''^^'--^^ .i;:rr:;riSttizrv:;^^^^^^ J""' ■"^""^"' -I cannot feel as enthii« astic about your fripnH Poi i, ■ ''"'•''™'- doubt th»f r 'P** *' y"" -J"- J don't recM ss T, : ",%"«»---"g youth, but he is former fri. "^ ""'^ ^''^" " ">"" «ke your " WeU, mother, it 'a of no use wishing somebody to be hke somebody else. We must just take 7lZ2 sensible fellow, who has a cronfir „™™„;..:._ '^^ . . ' OF TUE aJSA AND THE ROCKIES. 105 friends. And he's not a bad fellow. Ho and Charho Brooke were fond of each other when wo were all schoolboys together-at least ho was fond of Charho, like everybody else. But whether we hke him or not does not matter now, for the thing IS fixed. I have accepted his offer, and thrown old Jacob overboard." "Dear Shank, don't be angry if I am slow to appreciate this offer," said the poor lady, layin.. aside her knitting and clasping her hands before her on the table, as she looked earnestly into her sons face, "but you must see that it has come on me very suddenly, and I'm so soriy to hear that you have parted with good old Mr. Crossley in anger ." '' "We didn't part in anger," interrupted Shank. We were only a little less sweet on each other than usual. There was no absolute quarrel. D' you thmk he'd have promised to pray for me if there "Have you spoken yet to your father?" asked the lady, "How could I? I've not seen him since the thing was settled. Besides, whafs the use? He can do nothing for me. an' don't care a button what 1 do or where I go." "You are wrong. Shank, in thinking so. I know iLii lie cares for vou vfirv mnni. i«.i««^ rr i. . do nothing for you now, he has at least given you 10« CIlAnME TO THE RESCUE: a TaU your education, without whjch you could not do much for yourself." " Woll, of course I shall toll him whenever T seo him," returned the youth, aomowlmt softened ; "and I'm aware ho has a sort of sneaking fondness for mo; but I'm not going to ask his advice, because he knows nothing about tho business. Besides, mother, I am old enough to judge for myself, and mean to take the advice of nobody." "You are indeed old enough to judge for yourself," said Mrs. Leather, resuming her knitting, "and I don't' wish to turn you from your plans. On the contrary, I will pray that God's blessing and pro- tection may accompany you wherever you go, but you should not expect mo to be instantaneously jubilant over an arrangement which will take you away from me for years perhaps." This last consideration seemed to have some weight with tho selfish youth. "Well, well, mother,".he said, rising, "don't take on about that. Travelling is not like what it used to be. A trip over the Atlantic and Ue i^-oky Mountains is nothing to speak of r iw— a mero matter of a few weeks— so that a fellow can take a run home at any time to say 'How do' to his people. I 'm going down now to see Smithers and tell K'wu tho news." " fctv-^y, 1 '11 go with you— a bit of the way," cried •"*"/» jumping up and shaking back the cuiiy brown Of TSI IIA ANb HIE llOCKltm 107 some hair which still hung in native freedom— and girlish fashion—on her shoulders. May had a channing and rare capacity for getting wady to go out at a nionionfs notice. She merely threw on a coquettish straw hat, which had a knack of being always at hand, and which clung to her pretty head with a tenacity that rendered strings or elastic superfluous. One of her brother's companions-we don't know which-was onco heard to say with fervour that no hat would bo worth its ribbons that didn't cling powerfully to such a head without assistance! A shawl too, or cloak, was always at hand, somehow, and had this not been so May would have tlirown over her shoulders an antimacassar or table-cloth rather than cause delay,— at least we think so, though we have no absolute authority for making the statement. Dear Shank," she said, clasping both hands over his arm as they walked slowly down the path that led to the shore, " is it really all true that you have been tolling us ? Have you fixed to go off with— with Mr. Ritson to California?" "Quite true; I never was more in earnest in my life. By the way, sister mine, what made you colour up so when Ralph's name was mentioned ? There, you 're flushing again 1 Are you in love with him?" " No, certainly not," answered the girl, with an air and tone of decision that made her brother laugh. iil i I m I (I ij » 108 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE "Well, you needn't flare up so fiercely. You might be in love with a worse man. But why, then, do you blush?" May was silent, ai-d huug down her head. " Come, May, you 've never had any socrets from me. Surely you're not going to tjgin now— on the eve ot my departure to a foreign land ?" "I would rather not talk about him at all," said the girl, looking up entreatingly. But Shank looked down upon her sternly! He had assumed the parental rdle. '^May, there is something in this that you ought not to conceal. I have a right to know it, as your brother—your protector." Innocent though May was, she could not repress a faint smile at the idea of a protector who had been little else than a cause of anxiety in the past, and was now about to leave her to look after her- self, probably for years to come. But she answered frankly, while another and a deeper blush over- spread her face — " I did not mean to speak of it, Shank, as you knew nothing, and I had hoped would never know anything about it, but since you insist, I must tell you that— that Mr. Eitson, I 'm afraid, loves me— at least he " "Afraid! loves you! How do you know?" in- terrupted Shank quicklv. "Well, he said so— the last time we met." ly. You Jut why, •ets from low — on ill," said ly. He there is conceal, r — ^your repress ho had 16 past, ;er her- iswered I over- as you f know tist tell ; me — 7" m- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 109 " The rascal I Had he the audacity to ask you to marry him T-him-a beggar, without a sixpence except what his father gives him ? " "No, Shank, I would not let him get the length of that. I told him I was too young to— to think about such matters at all, and said that he must not speak to me again in such a way. But I was so surprised, flurried, and distressed, that I don't clearly remember wliat I said." "And what did he say ?" asked Shank, forgetting the parental rdle for a moment, and looking at May with a humorous smile. " Indeed I can hardly tell. He made a great many absurd protestations, begged me to give him no decided answer just then, and said something about letting him write to me, but all I am quite sure of is that at last I had the courage to utter a very decided W, and then ran away and left him." " That was too sharp, May. Ealph is a first-rate fellow, with capital prospects. His father is rich and can give him a good start in life. He may come back in a few years with a fortune-not a bad kmd of husband for a penniless lass." " Shank !" exclaimed May, letting go her brother's arm and facing him with flashing eyes and height- ened colour, "do you really think that a fortune would make me marry a man whom I did not love ? " "Certainly not, my dear sis," said the youth. I hi p il 1 10 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE taking May's hand and drawing it again through his arm with an approving smile. "I never for'' a moment thought you capable of such meanness, but that is a very different thing from slamming the door in a poor fellow's face. You 're not in love with anybody else. Ealph is a fine handsome young fellow. You might grow to like him in time— and if you did, a fortune, of course, would be no dis- • advantage. Besides, he is to be my travelling companion, and might write to you about me if I were ill, or chanced to meet with an accident and were ^unable to write myself— don't you know ?" " He could in that case write to mother," said May, simply. "So he could!" returned Shank, laughing. "I never thought o' that, my sharp sister." They had reached the shore by that time. The tide was out; the sea was calm and the sun glinted brightly on the wavelets that sighed rather than broke upon the sands. For some distance they sauntered in silence by the margin of the sea. The mind of each was busy with the same thought. Each was aware of that, and for some time neither seemed able to break thj silence. The timid girl recovered her courage before the self-reliant man ! "Dear Shank," she said, pressing his arm, "you will probably be away for years." " Yes, May— at least for a good long time." OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. Ill through 3ver for a uess, but ning the in love ae young tne — and 5 no dis- [•avelling me if I ent and 3r," said ng. «I e. The glinted iT than nee by IS busy )f that, }ak the i before « you Oh forgi me, brother," continued the girl with sudden earnestness, «but~but~you know your— your weakness " "Ay, May, I know it. Call it sin if you will- and my knowledge of it has something to do with my present determination, for, weak though I am and bad though you think me " " But I don't think you lad, dear Shank," cried May, with tearful eyes ; « I never said so, and never thought so, and " "Come, come. May," interrupted the youth, with something of banter in his manner, "you don't think me good, do you ? " "Well, no-not exactly," returned May, faintly smihng through her tears. "Well, then, if I'm not good I must be bad you know. There's no half-way house in this' matter." "Is there not, Shank? Is there not very good and very bad ? " " Oh, well, if you come to that, there 's pretty- good, and rather-bad, and a host of other houses between these, such as goodish and baddish, but not one of them can be a half-way house." " Oh yes, one of them can — musi be." "Which one, you little argumentative creature ?" asked Shank. Wily, middung-good of course." "Wrong! "cried her brother, « doesn't middling. ' V 112 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE bad Stand beside it, with quite as good a claim to be considered half-way ? However, I won't press my victory too far. For the sake of peace we will agree that these are semi-detached houses in one block— and that will block the subject. But, to be serious again," he added, stopping and looking earnestly into his sister's face, "I wanted to speak to you on this weakness-this sin-and I thank you for breaking the ice. The truth is that I liave felt for a good while past that conviviality " "Strong-drink, brother, call it by its right name " said May, gently pressing the arm on which she leaned. "Well— have it so. Strong drink has been get- ting the better of me-mind I don't admit it Ms got the better of me yet-only is getting^^^^ convivial comrades have had a great deal to do with it. Now as you know, I 'm a man of some decision of char- actor, and I had long ago made up my mind to break with my companions. Of course I could not very well do this while-while I was-well, no matter why, but this offer just seemed to be a sort of god- send, for it will enable me to cut myself free at once, and the sea breezes and Eocky Mountain air and gold-hunting will, I expect, take away the desire for strong drink altogether." "I hope it will— indeed I am sure it will if it is God's way of leading you," said May, with an air of confidence. But I aim to be press my i^ill agree ! block — e serious 3arnestly to you you for ave felt i name," lich she een get- lias got mvivial . Now, •f char- break )t very matter of god- free at ain air ly the if it is air of OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIES. ' JIS "Well, I don't know whether it is God who is loading me or " " Did you not call it a god-send just now I " " Oh. but tliat '3 a mere form of speech, you know However, I do know that it was 0/ this very belch where we now stand that a friend led me for the first time to think seriously of this matter-more than a year ago." •■Indeed-who was it ?" asked May eagerly. My chum and old school-fellow, poor Charlie B..oke," returned Shank, in a strangely altered Then he went on to tell of the conversation he and hs friend had had on that beach, and it was not td he had finished that he became awar tl his sister was weeping. "Why May you 're'crying. What 's the matter?" God bless him ! " said May in fervent yet tremu- lous tones as she looked up i„ her brother's fad Can you wonder at my feeling so strongly when yon remember how kind Charlie always was to you -to all of us indeed-ever since he was a little boy a school with you ; what a true-hearted and steadj poor Charhe just now, as if he were dead " "True indeed, it is very, very sad, for we have ^-t reason to fear the worst, and I have strong "hat X shall never see my old chum again. wont give up hope, for it is no uncommon great dou But lU M ' ««s r 1 I I'l I CIIAKLIE TO TUr RESCUE; A TALE thing for men to be lost at sea, for years even, and to turn up at last, having been cast away on a desert island, like Robinson Crusoe, or something of that sort." The thoughts which seemed to minister consola- tion to Shank Leather did not appear to afford much comfort to his sister, who hung her head and made no answer, while her companion went on " Yes, May, and poor Charlie was the first to make me feel as if I were a little selfish, though that, as you know, is not one of my conspicuous failings ! His straightforwardness angered me a little at first, but his kindness made me think much of what he said, and— well, the upshot of it all is that I am going to California." " I am glad— so glad and thankful he has had so much influence over you, dear Shank, and now, don't you think— that— that if Charlie were with you at this moment he would advise you not to go to Mr. Smithers to consult about your plans ? " For a few moments the brother's face betrayed a feeling of annoyance, but it quickly cleared away. "You are right, May. Smithers is too much of a convivial harum-scarum fellow to be of much use in the way of giving sound advice. I '11 go to see Jamieson instead. You can have no objection to him— surely. He 's a quiet, sober sort of man, and never tries to temfJt people or lead them into mis- even, and n a desert g of that ' consola- ord much md made i to make I that, as failings 1 e at first, what he hat I am IS had so ow, don't 1 you at [0 to Mr. betrayed cleared tnuch of luch use 3 to see ction to laHj and ito mis- OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIKS. 115 chief-which is more than can be said of the other fellow. "That is a very negative sort of goodness" returned May, smiling. « However, if you must go to see some one, Jamieson is better than Smithers ; but why not come home and consult with mother and me ? " " Pooh ! what can women know about such mat- ters ? No, no. May, when a fellow has to go into the pros and cons of Californian life it must be with men." " H'm ! the men you associate with, having been at school and the desk all their lives up till now, must be emmently fitted to advise on Californian life I That did not occur to me at the first blush!" said May demurely. "Go home, you cynical baggage, and help mother to knit," retorted Shank, with a laugh. « I intend to go and see Jamieson." And he went. And the negatively good Jamieson who never led people into temptation, had no objec- tion to be led into that region himself, so they went together to make a passing call— a mere look in~on Smithers, who easily induced them to remain. The result was that the unselfish man with decision of character returned home in the early hours of morn- ing — " screwed ' I m^-m » «P 116 CIIARUE TO THE liESCUE : A TALE CFIAPTEK X. IIOME-COMINO AND UNEXPECTED SURI'fllSES. Upwards of another year passed away, and at the end of that time a ship might have been seen approaching one of the harbours on the eastern sea- board of America. Her sails were worn and patched. Her spars were broken and spliced. Her rigging was ragged and slack, and the state of her hull can be best described by the word 'battered.' Everything m and about her bore evidence of a prolonged and hard struggle with the elements, and though she had at last come off victorious, her dilapidated appear- ance bore strong testimony to the deadly nature of the fight. Her crew presented similar evidence. Not only were their garments ragged, threadbare, and patched, but the very persons of the men seemed to have been riven and battered by the tear and wear of the conflict. And no wonder ; for the vessel was a South Sea whaler, returning home after a three years' cruise. At first she had been blown far out of her course • 1% OF THE 8EA AND THE ROCKIES, 117 ', and at een seen tern sea- patched, rigging hull can erything ged and she had appear- ature of bt only )atched, io have p of the I South years' course ; then she was very successful in the fishing, and then she was stranded on the reef of a coral island in such a position that, though protected from absolute destruction by the fury of the waves, she could not be got off for many months. At last the ingenuity and perseverance of one of her crew were rewarded by success. She was hauled once more into deep water and finally returned home. The man who had been thus successful in saving the ship, and probably the lives of his mates— for it was a desolate isle, far out of the tracks of commerce —was standing in the bow of the vessel, watching the shore with his companions as they drew near. He was a splendid specimen of manhood, clad in a red shirt and canvas trousers, while a wide-awake took the place of the usual seafaring cap. He stood head and shoulders above his fellows. Just as the ship rounded the end of the pier, which formed one side of the harbour, a small boat shot out from it. A little boy sculled the boat, and, apparently, had been ignorant of the ship's approach, for he gave a shout of alarm on seeing it and made frantic efforts to get out of its way. In his wild attempts to turn the boat he missed a stroke and went backwards into the sea. At the same moment the lookout on the ship gave the order to put the helm hard a-starboard in a hurried shout Prompt obedience caused the ship to sheer otf a 'J if # il "'J nS CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TAUB littlo, and her side just grazed' the boat. Alt handa on the forecastle gazed down anxiously for the boy's reappearance. Up he came next moment with a bubbling cry and clutching fingers. " He can't swim I " cried one. "Out with a lifebelt I" shouted another. Our tall seaman bent forward as they spoke, and, just as the boy sank a second time, he shot like an arrow into the water. "He 's all safe now," remarked a seaman quietly and with a nod of satisfaction, even before the rescuer had reappeared. And he was right. The red-shirted sailor rose a moment later with the boy in his arms. Chuck- ing the urchin into the boat he swam to the pier- head with the smooth facility and speed of an otter climbed the wooden piles with the ease of an athlete; walked rapidly along the pier, and arrived at the head of the harbour almost as soon as his own ship. "That's the tenth life he's saved since he came aboard—to say nothin' o' savin' the ship herself" remarked the Captain to an inquirer, after the vessel had reached her moorings. " An' none o' the lives was as easy to manage as that one. Some o' them much harder." ^ We will follow this magniiicent seaman for a time, good reader. Hi OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 119 lit handa the boy's aling cry )ko, and, ' like an quietly, fore the lor rose Chuck- le pier- n otter of an arrived as his e came erself," er the 3 o' the ome o' for a Having obtained permission to quit the South Sea whaler he walked straight to the office of a steam shipping company, and secured a fore-cabin passage to England. He went on board dressed as he had arrived, in the red shirt, ducks, and wide-awake- minus the salt water. The only piece of costume which he had added to his wardrobe was a huge double-breasted pilot-cloth coat, with buttons the size of an egg-cup. Ho was so unused, however, to such heavy clotliing that he flung it off the moment he got on board the steamer, and went about there- after in his red flannel shirt and ducks. Hence he came to be known by every one as Bed Shirt. This man, with his dark-blue eyes, deeply bronzed cheeks, fair hair, moustache, and beard, and tall herculean form, was nevertheless so soft and gentle in his manners, so ready with his smile and help and sympathy, that every man, woman, and child in the vessel adored him before the third day was over. Previous to that day many of the passengers, owing to internal derangements, were incapable of any affection, except self-love, and to do them justice they had not much even of that I Arrived at Liverpool, Red Shirt, after seeing a poor invalid passenger safely to his abode in that city, and assisting one or two families with young children to find the stations, boats, or coaches that were more or less connected with their liomes, got mto a third-class carriage for London. On reach- 120 CHARLIE TO THE Rigoui : a TALI 1^ i' Just as the train waa on tho ,,omt of starting two eWorl, gentlemen came on tho platf..r„,, i„'t,,at eager Imsto .nd confusion of n.ind clmrncteristio of lato passongers. " lTl.is way, Captain." cried one. I.ailing tho other, and pou. .„,. energetically with his brown silk umbrella to the Soalford earring,-,. tlJ^r:,""' /''f. "'/''« "«*' PloWorm." returned tiio Captain frantically. *^ome, sir, obey orders I" They both mmlo for an open carriago-door. It hanccd to be a third class. A strong hand was held out to assist them in. ho wrth the brown silk un.brella-turning to Bed blurt as he sat down and panted slightly "I feared that we'd bo late, sir," remarked tho other elderly gentleman on recovering breath We are not late, Captain, but we should have been la o for certain, if your obstinacy had held another half uiiuute." "Well, Mr. Crossley, I admit that I made a mis- take about the place, but you must allow that I made "0 mistake about the hour. I was sure tha «y chronometer was right. If there 's one thing on eaith that I can trust to as reg'lar as the sun !t It IS OF TUE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. Ill ticket for rting two I in that eristic of lio other, wn siUc 'oturned sternly. )or. It ad was man — to lied ed the 1 have I held mis- hat I I that Qg ou it ifl thii chronometer (pulling it out as ho ipoke), and it never fails. As I always Haid to my missis, • Maggie,' I used to say, ' when you find this chrono- meter fail ' ' Oh ! bother you an' your chrono- meter/ she would reply, takin' the wind out o' my sails— for my missus has a free-an'-easy way o'doin' that -" "You've just come off a voyage, young sir, if I mistake not," said Crossley, turning to Ked Shirt, for he had quite as free-and-easy a way of taking the wind out of Captain Stride's sails as the "missus." "Yes ; I have just returned," answered Red Shirt, in a low soft voice, which scarcely seemed appro- priate to his colossal frame. His red garment, by the way, was at the time all concealed by the pilot- coat, excepting the collar. "Going home for a spell, I suppose?" said Crossley. " Yes." "May I ask where you last hailed from?" said Captain Stride, with some curiosity, for there was something in the appearance of this nautical stranger which interested him. "From the southern seas. I have been away a long while in a South Sea whaler." " Ah, indeed ?—a rough service that." " Eather rough ; but I didn't enter it intentionally. 9 \trQo TT «rj ^/iv-acu up ui sea, Willi sume oi my mates, in liiiM i!! ^^2 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE an open boat, by the whaler. She was on the out- ward voyage, and couldn't land us anywhere, so we were obliged to make up our minds to join as hands." "Strange!" murmured Captain Stride "Then you were wrecked somewhere-or your ship foun- dered, mayhap— eh ?" " Yes, we were wrecked— on a coral reef." "WeU now, young man, that is a strange coin- cidenca I was wrecked myself on a coral reef in the very same seas, nigh three years ago. Isn't that odd ?" "Dear me, this is very interesting," put in Mr Crossley; "and, as Captain Stride says, a somewhat strange coincidence." J Is it so very strange, after all," returned Eed Shirt, "seeing that the Pacific is full of sunken coral reefs, and vessels are wrecked there more or less every year ?" "Well, there's some truth in that," observed the Captain. "Did you say it was a sunk reef your ship struck on ?" "Yes; quite sunk. No part visible. It was calm vreather at the time, and a clear night." "Another coincidence !" exclaimed Stride, becom- ing still more interested. "Calm and clear, too, when I was wrecked !" ^ "Curious," remarked Eed Shirt in a cool indif- ferent tone, that began to exasperate the Captain. li OF THE SEA AND THE ROOKIES. 123 "Yet, after all, there are a good many calm and clear nights in the Pacific, as well as coral reefs." " Why, young man," cried Stride in a tone that made old Crossley smile, "you seem to think nothing at all of coincidences. It's very seldom— almost never— that one hears of so many coinci- dences happening on this side o' the line all at once — don't you see ?" "I see," returned Eed Shirt; "and the same, exactly, may be said of the other side o' the line. I very seldom— almost never— heard of so many out there ; which itself may be called a coincidence, d'ee «ee ? a sort of negative similarity." " Young man, I would suspect you were jesting with me," returned the Captain, "but for the fact that you told me of your experiences first, before you could know that mine would coincide with them so exactly." "Your conclusions are very just, sir," rejoined Eed Shirt, with a grave and respectful air ; " but of course coincidences never go on in an unbroken chain. They must cease sooner or later. We left our wreck in three boats. No doubt you " "There again!" cried the Captain in blazing astonishment, as he removed his hat and wiped his heated brow, while Mr. Crossley's eyes opened to their widest extent. " We left our wreck in three boats ! My ship's name was " I I li >E, 124 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I I "The JValrusr said Red Shirt quietly, "and her taptam s name was Stride !" Old Crossley had reached the stage that is known as petrified with astonishment. The Captain being unable to open his eyes wider dropped his lower jaw instead. "Surely," continued Red Shirt, removing his wide- awake, and looking steadily at his companions «I must have changed very much indeed when two of my " "Brooke!" exclaimed Crossley, grasping one of the sailor's hands. "Charlie!" gasped the Captain, seizing the other hand. ° What they all said after reaching this point it is neither easy nor necessary to record. Perhaps it may be as well to leave it to the reader's vivid imagination. Suffice it to say, that our hero irri- tatt^d the Captain no longer by his callous indif- ference to coincidences. In the midst of the confusion of hurried question and short reply he pulled them up with the sudden query anxiously "But now, what of my mother?" "Well-excellently well in health, my boy," said Crossley, "but wofuUy low in spirits about your- self-Charlie. Yet nothing will induce her to entertain the idea that you have been drownea. w. course we have been rather glad of this-though OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 125 most Of our friends, Charlie, have given you up for lost long ago. May Leather, too, has been much the same way of thinking, so she has naturally been a great comfort to your mother." "God bless her for that. She's a good little girl," said Charlie. "Little girl," repeated both elderly gentlemen in a breath, and bursting into a laugh. " You forget, lad," said the Captain, « that three years or so makes a considerable change in girls of her age. She's a tall, handsome young woman now; ay, and a good- looking one too. Almost as good-lookin' as what my missus was about her age—an' not unlike my little Mag in the face— the one you rescued, you re- member—who is also a strappin' lass now." " I 'm very glad to hear they are well. Captain," said Charlie ; " and. Shank, what of " He stopped, for the grave looks of his friends told him that something was wronc. " Gone to the dogs," said the Captain, " Nay, not quite gone— but going fast." "And the father?" "Much as he was, Charlie, only somewhat more deeply sunk. The fact is," continued Crossley, « it is this very matter that takes us down to Sealford to-day. We have just had fresh news of Shank— who is in America— and I want to consult with Mpow Lfiaf.hor oVvniif U - — — —■»•« VKWVIU iX m You see I have agents out there wno may be able to help us to save him." 126 CHARLIE TO THii; RESCUE : A TALE 'f^r.i In "From drink, I suppose?" interposed our hero. " From himself, Charlie, and that includes drink and a great deal more. I dare say you are aware— at least if you are not I now tell you— that I have long taken great interest in Mrs. Leather and her family, and would go a long way, and give a great deal, to save Shank. You know— no, of course you don't, I forgot— that he threw up his situation in my office— Withers & Co. (ay, you may smile, my lad, but we humbugged you and got the better of you that time. Didn't we. Captain ?) Well, Shank was induced by that fellow Ealph Eitson to go away to some gold-mine or other worked by his father in California, but when they reached America they got news of the failure of the Company and the death of old Eitson. Of course the poor fellows were at once thrown on their own resources, but instead of facing life like men they took to gam- bling. The usual results followed. They lost all they had and went off to Texas or some such wild place, and for a long time were no more heard of. At last, just the other day, a letter came from Eitson to Mrs. Leather, telling her that her son is very ill— perhaps dying— in some out o' the way place. Eitson was nursing him, but, being ill himself, unable to work, and without means, it would help them greatly if some money could be sent — even though only a small sum." Charlie Brooke listened to this narrative wien OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 127 compressed brows, and remained silent a few seconds. "My poor chuml" he exclaimed at length. Then a flash of fire seemed to gleam in his blue eyes as he added, " If I had that fellow Eitson by the " He stopped abruptly, and the fire in the eyes died out, for it was no part of our hero's charac- ter to boast— much less to speak harshly of men behind their backs. " Has money been sent ? " he asked. "Not yet. It is about that business that I'm going to call on poor Mrs. Leather now. We must be careful, you see. I have no reason, it is true, to believe that Eitson is deceiving us, but when a youth of no principle writes to make a sudden demand for money, it behoves people to think twice before they send it." " Ay, to think three times — perhaps even four or five," broke in the Captain, with stern emphasis. "I know Ealph Eitson well, the scoundrel, an' if I had aught to do wi' it I 'd not send him a penny. As I said to my " "Does your mother know of your arrival?" asked Mr. Crossley abruptly. " No ; I meant to take her by surprise." "Humph! Just like you young fellows. In some things you have no more brains than geese. Being made of cast-iron and shoe-leather you assume that everybody else is, or ought to be, made of the same I w m 4 1) M I '! il :l MkfnM 128 CHARLIE TO THE IlESCUE : A TALE r raw material. Don't you know that surprises of this sort are apt to kill delicate people ? " Charlie smiled by way of reply. "No, sir," continued the old gentleman firmly "I won't let you take h. • "v surprise. While I go round to the Leathers good friend Captain Stride will go in advance of you to Mrs. Brooke's and break the news to her. He is accustomed to deal with ladies." "Bight you are, sir," said the gratified Captain removing his hat and wiping his brow. « As I said! no lat^r than yesterday to " A terrific shriek from the steam-whistle, and a plunge into the darkness of a tunnel stopped— and thus lost to the world for ever—what the Captain said upon that occasion. It i OF Tire SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 129 CHAPTER XI. T.LU OF H«Pt MMTraas «D SEMOm COKaoiTATiOK.. Whetheu Captain Stride executed his commis- IZt ^'ir'j" '"'""°' '^"' ''"'' ^J-^'her the meetmg of Mrs. Brooke with her long-lost son came to near kiUmg or not we will not tell. Enough to know that they met, and that the Captain-with that dehcacy of feeling so noticeable in seafaring men-went outs.de the cottage door and smoked his pipe while the meeting was in progress. After having given sufficient time, as he said, "for the first o the squall to Mow over," he summarily snuhhed^his pipe, put it into his vest pocket, an^ "Now, missus, you 'II excuse me, ma'am, for cuttin' m atween jou, but this business o' the leathers is pressrn. an' if we are to hold a confabulation wi' the family about it, why " "Ah, to be sure, Captain Stride is right" said Mrs. Brooke, turning to her stalwart son, ;ho was seated on the sofa bfisiHA h- «T^--- • very, very sad business about poor Shank. You 1 130 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE had better go to them, Charlie. I will follow you in a short time. " Mr. Crossley is with them at this moment I forgot to say so, mother." "Is he? I'm very glad of that," returned the widow. "He has been a true friend to us all. Go, Charlie. But stay. I see May coming. The dear child always comes to me when there is any- thing good or sorrowful to tell. But she comes from the wrong direction. Perhaps she does not yet know of Mr. Crossle/s arrival." "May! Can it be?" exclaimed Charlie in an undertone of surprise as he observed, through the window, the girl who approached. And well might he be surprised, for this, al- though the same May, was very different from the girl he left behind him. The angles of girlhood had given place to the rounded lines of young womanhood. The rich curly brown hair, which ased to whirl wildly in the sea-breezes, was gathered up in a luxuriant mass behind her graceful head, and from the forehead it was drawn back in two wavy bands, in defiance of fashion, which at that time was beginning to introduce the detestable modern fringe. Perhaps we are not quite un- biassed in our judgment of the said fringe, for it is intimately associated in our mind with the savages of North America, whose dirty red faces, in years past, were wont to glower at us from beneath just or THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 181 such a fringe, long before it was adopted by the fair dames of England I In other respects, however, May was little changed, except that the slightest curl of sadness about her eyebrows made her face more attractive than ever, as she nodded pleasantly to the Captain, who had hastened to the door to meet her. - "So glad to see you, Captain Stride,"' she said shaking hands with unfeminine heartiness. " Have you been to see mother ? I have just been having a walk before " *" She stopped as if transfixed, for at that moment she caught sight of Charlie and his mother through the open door. Poor May flushed to the roots of her hair; then she turned deadly pale, and would have fallen had not the gallant Captain caught her in his arms. But by a powerful effort of will she recovered her- self in time to avoid a scene. "The sight of you reminded me so strongly of our dear Shank!" she stammered, when CharUe hastening forward, grasped both her hands and shook them warmly. •■ Besides-some of us thought you were dead," "No wonder you thought of Shank," returned Chailie, "for he and I used to be so constantly to- gether. But don't be cast down, May. We'll get Shank out of hia ttvmMnn ..„«. •• ° " Yes, and you know he has Ealph Kitson with I iw iirtii i i i ISS CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE him/' said Mrs. Brooke; "and he, although not quite as steady as we could wish, will be sure to care for such an old friend in his sickness. But you'd better go, Charlie, and see Mrs, Leather. They will bo sure to want you and Captain Stride. May will remain here with me. Sit down beside me, dear, I want to have a chat with you." "Perhaps, ma'am, if I make so bold," interposed the Captain, "Mr. Crossley may want to have Miss May also at the council of war." "Mr. Crossley 1 is he with my mother?" asked the girl eagerly. " Yes, Miss May, he is." " Then I must be there. Excuse me, dear Mrs. Brooke." And without more ado May ran out of the house. She was followed soon after by Cnarlie and the Captain, and Mrs. Brooke was left alone, expressing her thankfulness and joy of heart in a few silent tears over her knitting. There was a wonderful similarity in many respects between Mrs. Brooke and her friend Mrs. Leather. They both knitted— continuously and persistently. This was a convenient if not a powerful bond, for it enabled them to sit for hours together—busy, yet free to talk. They were both invalids—a sympa- thetic bond of considerable strength. They held the same religious views— an indispensable bond where two people have to be much together, and OF THE SRA AND THK ROCKIES. 18S arc in earnest. They were both poor~a natural bond which draws people of a certain kind very close together, physically as well as spiritually-and both, up to this time at least, had long-absent and somi-lost sons. Even in the matter of dauglitors they might bo said, in a sense, to bo almost equal, for May, loving each, was a daughter to both' Lastly, in this matter of similarity, the two ladies were good-good as gold, according to Captain Stride, and ho ought to have been an authority, for be frequently visited them and knew all their affairs. Fortunately for both ladies, Mrs. Brooke was by far the stronger-minded— hence they never quarrelled I In Mrs. Leather's parlour a solemn conclave was seated round the parlour table. They were very earnest, for the case under consideration was urgent as well as very pitiful. Poor Mrs. Leather's face' was wet with tears, and the pretty brown eyes of May were not dry. They had had a long talk over the letter from Eitson, which was brief and to the point, but meagre as to details. " I rather like the letter, considering who wrote it," observed Mr. Crossley, laying it down after a fourth perusal. « You see he makes no whining or discontented reference to the hardness of their luck, which young scapegraces are so fond of doing . nor does he TYioL-n ««v,r.;„^ r .•_ » ' -— — -.,..^^^ ^^^^^^^.^ i/iuiuoaiuns or regret or repentance, which hypocrites are so prone to do. I I ^ II P ^ 134 CIIARLIS TO THE RESCUE : A TALK If ill think it bears the btamp of being genuine on the face of it At least it appears to be straightfor- ward.** "I'm so glad you think so, Mr. Crossley." said Mrs. Leather ; " for Mr. Kitson is such a pleasant young man— and so good-looking, too I" The old gentleman and the Captain both burst into a laugh at this. " I 'm afrnid," said the former, •• that good looks are no guarantee for good behaviour. However, I have made up my mind to send him a small sum of money— not to Shank, Mrs. Leather, so you need not begin to thank mo. I shall send it to Kitson." " Well, thank you all the same," interposed the lady, taking up her knitting and resuming opera- tions below the table, gazing placidly all the while at her friends like some consummate conjuror, "for Ralph will be sure to look after Shank." *• The only thing that puzzles me is, how are we to get it sent to such an outo'-the-way place- Traitor's Trap ! It 's a bad name, and the stupid fellow makes no mention of any known town near to it, though he gives the post-office. If I only knew its exact whereabouts I might get some one to take the money to him, for I have agents in many parts of America." After prolonged discussion of the subject, Mr. Crossley returned to town to make inquiries, and tx.e Captain «-cut to take hia favouiite walk by the Of THE HEA AND THE ROCKIES. iJ87 fioa-8hore, wliero ho was wont, when paying u visit to Sealford, to drive) thn leathers' littlo dog half- mad with delight by throwing stones into tho soa for Scraggy to go in for—which ho always did, though ho novor fetched thorn out. In tho courso of that day Charlio Brooko loft his niothor to take a stroll, and naturally turned in tho direction of tho sea. When half-way through tho luuo with the high banks on either side ho encoun- tered May. " What a pleasant pretty girl she has become 1 " was his thought as she drew near, " Nobler and handsomer than over I" was hers as he approached. Tho thoughts of both sent a flush to tho face of each, but tho colou scarcely showed through the bronzed akin of tho man. "Why, what a woman you havo grown, May!" said Charlie, grasping her hand, and attempting to resume tho old familiar terms—with, however, imperfe(:t success. " Isn't that natural ?" asked May, with a glance and a little laugh. Triat glance and that littlo laugh, insignificant in themselves, tore a voil from tho eyes of Ch 13 Brooke. He had always been fond of May Leather, after a fashion. Now it suddenly rushed upon him that he was fond of hp.r nffnv nnnfTmr foe,l,i«« I TTq was a quick thinker and just reasoner. A poor mm 134. CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE If man without a profession and no prospects has no right to try to gain the affections of a girl. He became grave instantly. " May." he said, « will you turn back to the shore with me for a little ? I want to have a talk about Shank. I want you to tell me all you know about him. Don't conceal anything. I feel as if I had a right to claim your confidence, for, as you know well, he and I have been like brothers since we were little boys." May had turned at once, and the tears filled her eyes as she told the sad story. It was long, and the poor girl was graphic in detail. We can give but the outline here. Shank had gone off with Ritson not long after the sailing of the Walrus. On reaching America, and hearing of the failure of the company that worked the gold mine, and of old Ritson's death, they knew not which way to turn. It was a tre- mendous blow, and seemed to have rendered them reckless, for they soon took to gambling. At first they remained in New York, and letters came home pretty regularly, in which Shank always expressed hopes of getting more respectable work. He did not conceal their mode of gaining a livelihood, but defended it on the ground that "a man must live !" For a time the letters were cheerful. The young men were " lucky." Then came a chano-e of luck and a consequent change in the letters, which came OF THE SEA AND THE noCKIlSS. 137 1033 frequently. At last there arrived one from Shank, both the style and penmanship of wMch old tha he had not forsaken the great curse of hts 1 fe tTr^tkee.^':;h'"''r'-^°^«°'"«o^ fi.n„ K T ^^ ^ P^^^y Of "discoverers" though what they were to discover was not Z sion, we have heard nothing about them till this :•;•»»««•. 1 111.1. ..«.,u«M„. M.rf The youth did not observe the blush TTi, oughts were otherwise engaged, and h "Jes wt at the moment fixed on a far-off mrt of fh! T Where Captain Stride could be LT J^ f^^^ joyful Scraggy to his fruitless labours. do Ma7V'"°"" '"' ^^ ^•'■'''•J-' of him as you do. May. However, misfortune as well as experience B„T r: ?''^ '■" ' "'^«'' P-I^^P^ - hettrman ttmtrt^Tjr^^^^'^- -aching its desti'na'ti::; "' " '°"=" '° "°^ ^^^' ,.'*,!'"' *?,"■ Ji'k^ ' :. . r-rt1inr . '#ffa aaay 138 CHARLIE TO THE RESCOE : A. TALE " Oh ! if wo only knew some one in New York who would take it to them," said May, looking pite- ously at the horizon, as if she were apostrophising some one on the other side of the Atlantic. "Why, you talk as if New York and Traitor's Trap were within a few miles of each other," said Charlie, smiling gently. "They are hundreds of miles apart." "Well, I suppose they are. But I feel so anxious about Shank when I think of the dear boy lying ill, perhaps dying, in a lonely place far fai away from us all, and no one but Mr. Ritson to care for him ! If I were only a man I would go to him myself." She broke down at this point, and put her hand- kerchief to her face. "Don't cry. May," began the youth in sore per- plexity, for he knew not how to comfort the poor girl in the circumstances, but fortunately Captain Stride caught sight of them at the moment, and gave them a stentorian hail. " Hi ! halloo ! back your to-o-o-ps'ls. I '11 overhaul ye in a jiffy." How long a nautical jiffy may be we know not, but, in a remarkably brief space of time, considering the shortness and thickness of his sea-legs, the Cap- tain was alongside, blowing, as he said, "like a grampus. ." That night Charlie Brooke sat with his mother in OF THE SEA ANO THE HOOKIES. 139 her parlour. They were alone-their friend, h. "ig considerately left thnm f 1 , '""'" their fi«t night '° "'^^'^'^^^ "» 'his -«andoo.;2;a::rei;L:^r^;: Surely, my boy, it is time enough to tilt k . that to-morrow, or next dav v! '''""" improved that girl mother^ ' ■ ^"»<'«''"«% " IndPP,! <,>. , ^''°'^" «""« pretty ? '• hermin/" ''°"'^'"°" ^^'S^^ heavily on "Can you wonder, Charlie ?" 140 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALB " That 's natural too, my son. I have no doubt she would, poor dear girl, if she were only a man." " Do you know, mother, I Ve not been able to get that speech out of my head all this afternoon. ' If I were a man— if I were a man,' keeps ringing in my ears like the chorus of an old song, and then " "Well, Charlie, what then?" asked Mrs. Brooke, v/ith a puzzled glance. "Why, then, somehow the chorus has changed in my brain and it runs—' I am a man! I am a. ma^!'" "Well?" asked the mother, with an anxious look. " Well— that being so, I have made up my mind that / will go out to Traitor's Trap and carry the money to Shank, and look after him myself. That is, if you will let me." "0 Charlie! how can you talk of it?" said Mrs. Brooke, with a distressed look. "I have scarcely had time to realise the fact that you have come home, and to thank God for it, when you begin to talk of leaving me again— perhaps for years, as before." "Nay, mother mine, you jump to conclusions too hastily. What I propose is not to go off again on a long voyage, but to take a run of a few days in a first-class steamer across what the Americans call the big fish-pond ; then go across country comfort- t£^' i no doubt 1 man." )le to get Don. ' If I ringing ong, and Brooke, changed I am a anxious n.y mind arry the I That lid Mrs. scarcely '6 come )egin to sars, as OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIM. ,41 ably by rail; after that hire a horse and have a gaUop somewhere or other; find out ShankTnd i^r^w ran?rt ""- -«^ "^" wrecked." "° '''"'"'=^' '^'"°^'- "^ Wng "I don-t know, Charlie," returned Mra Brooke >n a sad tone, as she laid her hand on her s nl' arm and stroked it. «As you put ^ZT sounds all very ea<,v «^.i 7 , ' ® '^""S very easy, and no doubt it would ho „ grand, a noble thing to resen« t,u. , ° ^^ " why talk of it f„ °,.! Shank— but-but, "11 J- taiK ot It to-night, mv Amr y.^-,, o t^ ■ , Go to bed. Charlie, and w7wm taS " ^''"'■ morning" " '*"" " "^er in the "Gooet. No :es men wins ! — cotton- ■ young vigour ; ut your seating on that 1 as he 0" "'B SEA ANO TUK KOCKIES. •""l much to to 1 ofTA' r "'"'''"'°'''' "'at ho Wnd; but although he 1" 1' ""' "''^'"""roua '""cand looked afhlXol !"" ""«" '" ''- I'ead, and would noLo It To". 7' '"' ""'""' "^°- boys, it can't tl ? ' '''"''"'" »"'• "I've no tin.; for I -^ . T "'■''''^■" ^e said; •-t-aste.an-'alron.rSt'^r'^''''"^" fr«^'>en up a bit. The H l "' '"' ""^ P^-^ to - t™.blo the. b, a'uc!::*'^ "^ «°^»' '" «-e trouble." ' "^^^'® always givin' ug '•e £^ ;tc fhrap^eaS'irf- "'"■ "^ ment I heer'd expres^ort „, ! ' ""*' '» * senti- -^3. though i7^x::zr''' '" "'^ -- a Kedslcin ehief-onl/h ^ ,r"' ""' "^^ "^ devils who troubled aLt. ""^ Pale-faoed ^^^.-t both belt., Lr:;^'°'»'---- Par-tive demerits of ZTwo''" "' '° ""« -"- 'o^g checked by the ,!, 7 T"' "^^^ ^"^ «'« •■' very tall man orco„ . °' °^'"^''' '"•<' tearing entered the rolTl I ^''^^'«=« ""d looked ro«"d - • • ' *^°^ °^ Ws hat „„^ "' -"« a slight bow to the companT f» 146 CIIAHLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE mil m^i l.f!l. .,> !■ There was nothinp; oomnmndinpf, howovor, in the quiet voice with which ho asked the landlord if he and his horse could be put up there for the night. The company knew at once, from the cut of the stranger's tweed suit, as well as his tongue, that ho was an Englishman, not much used to the ways of the country — though, from the revolver and knife in his belt, and the repeating rifle in his hand, he seemed to be ready to meet the country on its own terms by doing in Rome as Home does. On being told that he could have a space on the floor to lie on, which he might convert into a bed if he had a blanket with him, ho seemed to make up his mind to remain, asked for food, and wliilo it was preparing went out to attend to his horse. Then, returning, he went to a retired corner of the room, and flung himself down at full length on a vacant bench, as if he were pretty well exhausted with fatigue. The simple fare of the hostelry was soon ready ; and when the stranger was engaged in eating it, he asked a cow-boy beside him how far it was to Traitor's Trap. At the question there was a perceptible lull in the conversation, and the cow-boy, who v/as a very coarse forbidding specimen of his class, said that he guessed Traitor's Trap was distant about twenty mile or so. OF THE SEA Ai„> TOT HOCK.W. - • 147 the place whoro I ZZ I T "' "«' '"< «' •"uch prefer to puah o>, to-Tlf^ '''^ ^ ''""^'^ " Wall, Bt«„ser whethn ! , ""'' •'"■'""«•" tamed the cow-boy ^t J ^T'" "' "»'•" «" for there 's a fian^ o^ .„ h "''^ ^ ^''''° *° «» VM, country fi^if^rCrr?""'"'"^"'"'''''''' A man that's cot to !f J "'""' "">" l"^'t- eo by like a tlljV, ?""°'"' '^'™P «•>-■'" "ever go alone." ""'""erbolt, an' he should En;ithit:r:::r;T^'''^-"-''eatho -;^^hth.i.or.::r:,^;^« Dangerous." exclaimed the cow-boy "Av • '"" be as long as Buck Tom an' Z k ^' " ""''"''g. Why. stranger I'dT.^ .^^' "« you bet, before I'd Jtt' .^*' ""^ ''*« '""ured, crowd 0' men ft 1 /"""'"-^^"OP' '-"h « big --t up that way. ther!"' " '"" '^'' ^^ ^ '» go-so I spTnt. ''^ «yself-for I /u^ ^Vd. IgL?riol"^;,r'^^^'-«-. an- on t'other side o' TrI or'! l "T '" ' ^"^^ J"«' cheer up, thinkin' I 'd 1^ J ^* '''"" ^ "^8^° to rrm.p " A U got Off SQUarfi ! hnf T U-.i „ o-e uuoDiier iiundred yards wL« ' " " '" " '"'*'''' ^ ^»^^s when up starts Buck a U8 ClIAULIfe; TO TIIK UE8CUK; A TALI nil' II #* :» m ' ,ii in villi It Tom an' his mon with 'hands up.' I wont hoad down flat on my naddlo instead, T was so riled. Hang w(5nt a six-shooter, an' the ball just combed my back hair. I suppose liuck was so took by surprise at a single man darin' to disobey his orders that ho missed. Anyhow I socked spurs into Blue- fire, an' made a break for the open country ahead. They made after mo like locomotives wi' the safety- valves blocked, but Bluefire was moro'n a match for 'em. They kep' blazin' away all the time too, but never touched me, though I heard the balls whistlin' past for a good while. Bluefire an' mo went, you bet, like a nor'easter in a passion, an' at last they gave it up. No, stranger, take my advice an' don't go past Traitor's Trap alone. I wouldn't go there at all if I could help it." " I don't intend to go past it. I mean to go inlo it," said iho Englishman, with a short laugh, as he laid down his knife and fork, having finished his slight meal ; " and, as I cannot get a guide, I shall be forced to go alone." " Stranger," said the cow-boy in surprise, " d 'ye want to meet wi' Buck Tom ? " " Not particularly." " An' are ye aware that Buck Tom is one o' the most hardened, sanguinacious blackguards in all Colorado?" " I did not know it before, but I suppose I may believe it now." o» m ae* AKi. Tifn RooKiM. ,49 of the cow-boy. „„., fullya Ld T IT"'"""^ the counter with »„ • . "™'^'' "P '<> demauded dri-r I Lr "'^T"'' '''•■«'""=«• «"« '«'<» Ws hand on the door, "you may tell the Eankin Creek to their offlee door, for I intend to call on them ome day soon and balance up that little Lou!I credit of their charity account " lortT'' ""'""°' """^ ^"'^'^ Tom was gone. Be- u?e7t7"f " "^ *^^"" '■^'^ quite recove^d ieard ra tt r^''' *' ''"'"^^ "^ "« "orse were heard rattling along the road which led in the direction of Traitor's Trap. " Was that really Buck Tom ? " asked Hunky Ben in some surprise. ^ ' ;;Ay-or his ghost," answered the landlord. bov who t . ^ ' '' 'P"' ''**' '»«'" ^^M the cow- boy, who had warned the Englishman. CruY ? ""aci "7 " ' "" ^ "^ """^^ ^"^° ^^^ to-night, ^lux? asked a comrade. I * I 152 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE 'i :ii ill i!|li?,lii|| m' m tn 1 1 "Just SO— you had a rare chance," remarked another of the cow-boys, with something of a sneer in his tone. " Because I 'm not yet tired o' my life," replied Crux, indignantly. " Buck Tom has got eyes in the back o' his head, I do believe, and shoots dead like a flash " " Not that time he missed you at Traitor's Trap, I think," said the other. "Of course not — 'cause we was both mounted that time, and scurryin' over rough ground like wild-cats. The best o' shots would miss thar an' thus. Besides, Buck Tom took nothin' from me, an' ye wouldn't have me shoot a man for missin' me —surely. If you 're so fond o' killin', why didn't you shoot him yourself ? — you had a rare chance ! " Crux grinned — for his ugly mouth could not compass a smile — as he thought thus to turn the tables on his comrade. "Well, he's got clear off, anyhow, returned the comrade, an' it 's a pity, for " He was interrupted by the Englishman raising himself and asking in a sleepy tone if there was likely to be moonlight soon. The company seemed to think him moonstruck to ask such a question, but one of them replied that the moon was due in half an hour. " You 've lost a good chance, sir," said Crux, who had a knack of making all his communications as i'li OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 1 63 disagreeably as possible, unless they chanced to be unavoidably agreeable, in which case he made the worst of them. "Buck Tom hisself has just bin here, an might have agreed to guide you to Tmitor's Irap if you -d made him a good offer." "Why did you not awake me?" asked the Jinglishman in a reproachful tone, as he sprang ud grasped his blanket hastily, threw down a pie^ of money on the counter, and asked if the road wasn't straight and easy for a considerable distance. "Straight as an arrow for ten mUe," said the landlord, as he laid down the change which the Jinghshman put into an apparently well-filled purse X 11 guide you, stranger, for five dollars," said Urux. "I want no guide," returned the other, somewhat brusquely as he left the room. A minute or two later he was heard to pass the door on horseback at a sharp trot. "Poor lad, he'll run straight into the wolf's den- but why he wants to do it puzdes me," remarked the landlord as he carefully cleaned a tankard, iiut he would take no warning." " The wolf doesn't seem half as bad as he 's bin painted, said Hunky Ben, rising and offering to pay his score. ^ Cruf *""' ^""''y~"°' 8oin' to skip, are ye ? " asked "I told ye I was in a hurry. Only waitin' to an^. fit" ■ 164 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE rest my pony. My road is the same as the stranger's, at least part o* the way. I 'U overhaul an' warn him." A few minutes more and the broad-shouldered scout was also galloping along the road or track which led towards the Eocky mountains in the direction of Traitor's Trap. I III ' l& ,11. II OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 160 CHAPTER XIII. HDNKY BEN IS SORELY PERPLEXED. It was one of Hunky Ben's few weaknesses to take pride in being well mounted. When he left the tavern he bestrode one of his best steeds-a black charger of unusual size, which he had purchased while on a trading trip in Texas-and many a time had he ridden it while guiding the United States troops in their frequent expeditions against ill-disposed Indians. Taken both together It would have been hard to equal, and impossible to match, Hunky Ben and his coal-black mare. From the way that Ben rode, on quitting the tavern, it might have been supposed that legions of wild Indians were at his heels. But after going about a few miles at racing speed he reined in and finally pulled up at a spot where a very slight pathway diverged. Here he sat quite still for a few mmutes in meditation. Then he muttered softly to himself-for Ben was often and for long periods alone - "•""'^ ""^ "" "^"tj piams, ana lound it some- what « sociable-like » to mutter his thoughts audibly : . « s 1 h V' I m I J •J III!! mm ; ■ , ifffid 156 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " You 've not cotched him up after all, Ben," he said. "Black Polly a'most equals a streak o* lightnin', but the Britisher got too long a start o' ye, an' he 's clearly in a hurry. Now, if I follow on he '11 hear your foot^falls, Polly, an' p'raps be scared into gom' faster to his doom. Whereas, if I go off the track here an' drive ahead so as to git to the Blue Fork before him, I'll be able to stop the B'lck's little game, an' save the poor fellow's Ufe. Buck is sure to stop him at the Blue Fork, for it 's a handy spot for a road-agent,i and there 's no other near." Hunky Ben was pre-eminently a man of action. As he uttered or thought the last word he gave a little chirp which sent Black Polly along the diverging track at a speed which almost justified the comparison of her to lightning. The Blue Fork was a narrow pass or gorge in the hills, the footpath through which was rendered rugged and dangerous for cattle because of the rocks that had fallen during the course of ages from the cliffs on either side. Seen from a short distance off on the main track the mountains beyond had a brilliantly blue appearance, and a few hundred yards on the other side of the pass the track forked—hence the name. One foik led up to Traitor's Trap, the other to the foit of Quester Creek, an ont-post of United States troops for whioh * A highwayman. OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 157 Hunky Ben was bound with the warning that the Redskins were contemplating mischief. As Ben had conjectured, this was the spot selected by Buck Tom as the most suitable place for way- laying his intended victim. Doubtless he supposed that no Englishman would travel in such a country without a good deal of money about him, and he resolved to relieve him of it. It was through a thick belt of wood that the scout had to gallop at first, and he soon outstripped the traveller who kept to the main and, at that part, more circuitous road, and who was besides obliged to advance cautiously in several places. On nearing liis destination, however, Ben pulled up, dismounted, fastened his mare to a tree, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot at a run, carrying his repeating rifle with him. He had not gone far when he came upon a horse. It was fastened, like his own, to a tree in a hollow. "Ho! ho!" thouf^ht Ben, "you prefer to do yer dirty work on foot, Mr. Buck ! Well, you 're not far wrong in such a place." Advancing now with great caution, the scout left the track and moved through the woods more like a visible ghost than a man, for he was well versed in all the arts and wiles of the Indian, and his mocca- sined feet made no sound whatever. Climbing up the pass at some height above the level of the road, so that he might be able to see all that took place 168 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE: A TALE bolow, ho at last lay down at full length, and drew himself in snako fashion to the edge of the thicket that concealed him. Pushing aside the bushes gently he looked down, and there, to his satisfac- tion, beheld the man he was in search of, not thirty yards off. Buck Tom was crouching behind a large mass of rock close to the track, and so lost in the dark shadow of it that no ordinary man could have seen him; but nothing could escape the keen and practised eye of Hunky Ben. He could not indeed make out the highwayman's form, but he knew that he was there and that was enough. Laying his rifle on a rock before him in a handy position he silently watched the watcher. During all this time the Englishman— whom the reader has doubtless recognised as Charlie Brooke- was pushing on as fast as he could in the hope of overtaking the man who could guide him io Traitor's Trap. At last he came to the Blue Forks, and rode into the pass with the confidence of one who suspects no evil. He drew rein, however, as he advanced, and picked his way carefully along the encumbered path. He had barely reached the middle of it, where a clear space permitted the moonbeams to fall brightly on the ground, when a stern voice suddenly broke the stillness of the night with th (.ii "t n UBIif nd drew ) thicket bushes satisfac- )t thirty mass of he dark ive seen 3n and Id not but ho enough, handy om the ooke — lope of raitor's ie into jcts no d, and ibered here a ightly broke OF THE SEA AND THE HOCKIES. ISQ " Hands up ! " Charlie Brooke seemed either to be ignorant of the ways of tlie country and of the fact tliat dis- obedience to the command involved sudden death, or he had grown unaccountably reckless, for instead of raising his arms and submitting to be searched by the robber who covered him with a revolver he merely reined up and took off his hat, allowing the moon to shine full on his countenance The effect on Buck Tom was singular. Standing with his back to the moon, his expression could not be seen, but his arm dropped to his side as if it had been paralysed, and the revolver fell to the ground Kever had Buck Tom been nearer to his end than at that moment, for Hunky Ben, seeing clearly what would be the consequence of the Englishman's non- compliance with the command, was already pressing the trigger that would have sent a bullet into Buck Tom's brain, but the Englishman's strange conduct mduced him to pause, and the effect on the robber caused him to raise his head and open wide his eyes — also his ears I "Ah! Ealph Eitson, has it come to this?" said Charlie, in a voice that told only of pity and surprise. lor some moments Ealph did not speak. He was evidently stunned. Presently he recovered and, passing his hand over his brow, but never tak- ing his eyes off the handsome f.ce of his former inena. He said in a low tone— III 1 60 CHAKLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE " I— I—^ou't foci very suro whether you're flesh and blood, Vmoh^. or a spirit— but— but " "I'm real j .ugh to be able to shako hands, Ritson," returned our hero, disniou..Jng, and going up to his former friend, wlio aufforcd him to grasp the hand that had been or the point of taking his life. " But can it be true, that 1 really fiud you "It is true, Charlie Brooke; quite true— but while you see the result, you do not see, and cannot easily understand, the hard grinding injustice that has brought me to this. The last and worst blow I received this very night. I have urgent need of money-not for myself, believe me-and T came down to David's store, at some personal risk, I may add, to receive payment of a sum due me fbr acting as a cow-boy for many months. The company, instead of paying me " " Yes, I knov7 ; I heard it all," said Charlie. " You were only shamming sleep, then ?" " Yes ; I knew you at once." " Well, then," continued Buck Tom (as we shall stiU continue to style him), " the disappointment made me so desperate that I determined to rob you —little thinking who you were— in order to help poor Shank Leather " "Does Shank stand in urgent need of help?" asked Charlie, interrupting. "He does indeed. He has been very ill. We ro flush M hands, tl going grnsp taking iud you le — but cannot ce that blow I leed of [ camo I may acting ) shall itment b you ) help OF TUE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 161 have run out of funds, and ho needs food and physic of a kind that the mountains don't furnish " VDoes he belong to your band, Ritson V well— nearly ; not quite I" "That is a strange answer. How far is it to where ho lies just now?" "Six miles, about." "Com., then, I will go to him if you will show n. tho way," roturnod Charlie, preparing to remounl l.avo plenty of that which poor Sha^k atari ,o nuch m r.eed of. I„ fact I have come here fo the express purpose of hunting him and you up. WouU Jt not be well, by the way, to ride back to tl.r^^^oL for some supplies ?" "No need," answered Buck Tom, stooping f» pick irom this to winch we can send to-moirow. We can get what we want there." "But what have you done with your horse?" asked Charlie ; " I heard you start on one " "It IS not far ofr. I '11 go fetch it " So saying the robber entered the bushes and dis- appeared A few minutes later the clattering f oofs was heard, and in another moment he rode «P to the spot where our hero awaited him i.a;riru2;o:^"''"°^^''~''-- ^ ring all this time Hunkv Ben hnH «fo"'> -■•'h fle ready, listening with the feelings of a man c * * « his 16S CIlAULIK TO TIIF. KKHCUE : A TALE 'HI if (■ * •■ f f; •1 in a (Iroam. Ho wfltchud the robber and hia victim rido quiotly away until thoy were out of eight. Then ho ntood up, tilted his cap on one side, and scratched his head in great perplexity. "Well, now," he said at length," this is about the queerest alTair I 'vo conied across since I was raised. It's a marcy I was born with a quiet spirit, for another chip off the small end of a moment an* Buck Tom would have bin with his fathers in their happy, or otherwise, huntin* grounds! It's quite clear that them two have bin friends, mayhap pards, in the old country. An' Buck Tom (that 's Ilitson, I think ho called him) has bin driven to it by injus- tice, has ho ? Ah 1 Buck, if all the world that suf- fers injustice was to take to robbery it 's not many re pectable folk would be left to rob. Well, well, my comin' off in such a splittin' hurrv to take care o' this Britisher is a wild-goose chase arter all ! It 's not the first one you 've bin led into anyhow, an' it 's time you was lookin' arter yer own business, Hunky Bon." While giving vent to these remarks in low mut- tering tones, the scout was quickly retracing his steps to the place where ho had tied up Black Polly. Mounting her he returned to the main track, pro- ceeded along it until he reached the place beyond the pass where the roads forked; then, selecting that which diverged to the left, he set off at a hard gallop in the direction of Quester Creek. or TrrR ska and inE nocKiKa 163 iff'' CHAPTKH XIV. Till! HAUNT or TIIK OUTLAWS. Amn riding tlaongl, tho IM..0 Fork Clmrlio and I .cic To,,. ca,„o to a stretch of open grou^l co,,,>derab e extent, whore they could ride aire ,t ..a here tho latter gave the for,ner some accoun „' the condition of Shank Leather. "Tell me, Kitson," said Chailie, "what yon mean by Shank 'nearly' and -not onifn' i,„i • your hand." ^ belonging to Tho outlaw was silent for some time. T'.en ho scon,ed to make up his mind to speak out. Brooke," he said, "it did, till this night seem to me that all the better feelings of my naturi- vlt ever they were-had been blotted out of existen . for smce I came to this part of the world the eruelty and injustice that I have witnessed and sulTercd have driven me to desperation, and I candidly con- fess to you that I have come to hate pretty nigh he whole human race. The grip of your hand a^d tone ot your voice, however. hnv« f„w ^„ .1,.. j '■"ve not yet sunk to the lowest possible" depths ' : f I ' I c If 164 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE I . 'i;) y I I.'; i Ji ill. i; I fi/ijii -'I'l iii|:i lili!: rimym ,'^'" 'IPI! But that is not what I mean to enlarge on. What I wish you to understand is, that after Shank and I had gone to the dogs, and were reduced to beggary, I made up my mind to join a band of men who lived chiefly by their wits, and sometimes by their personal courage. Of course I won't say who they are, because we still hang together, and there is no need to say what we are. The profession is variously named, and not highly respected. ''Shank refused to join me, so we parted. He remained for some time in New York doing odd jobS' for a living. Then he joined a small party of emigrants, and journeyed west. Strange to say, although the country is wide, he and I again met accidentally. My fellows wanted to overhaul the goods of the emigrants with whom he travelled. They objected. A fight followed in which there was no bloodshed, for the emigrants fled at the first war-whoop. A shot from one of them, however, wounded one of our men, and one of theirs was so drunk at the time of the flight that he fell off his horse and was captured. That man was Shank. I recognised him when I rode up to see what some of my boys were quarrelling over, and found that it was the wounded man wanting to shove his knife into Shank. " The moment I saw his face I claimed him as an old chum, and had him carried up to our head- quarters in Traitor's Trap. There he has remained ever since, in a very shaky condition, for the fall llllilli'i OP THE SEA AND THE BOOKIES. 165 seems to have injured him internally, besides almost breaking his neck. Indeed I think his spine is damaged,-.he recovers so slowly. We have tried to persuade him to say that he will become one of us when he gets well, but up to this time he has steadily refused. I am not sorry; for, to say truth, 1 don t want to force any one into such a line of life -and he does not look as if he'd be fit for it or anything else, for many a day to come." "But how does it happen that you are in such straits just now?" asked Charlie, seeing that Buck paused, and seemed unwilling to make further explanations. "Well, the fact is, we have not been successful of late ; no chances have come in our way, and two of our best men have taken their departure-one to gold-digging in California, the other to the happy hunting grounds of the Eedskin, or elsewhere. Luck, in short, seems to have forsaken us. Pious tolk, he added, with something of a sneer, "would say, no doubt, that God had forsaken us." "I think pious people would not say so, and they would be wrong if they did," returned Charlie. « In my opinion God never forsakes any one ; but when His creatures forsake him He thwarts them. It cannot be otherwise if His laws are to be vindicated » ^ "It maj be so. But what have I done," said x>uck Tom fiercely, "to merit the bad treatment and insufferable ini,iof;o« —uj-i. t i . . — ct».Ao i-xj««i,iv.o Wiiiuii 1 nave received pii!».i I j 1G6 CIIAIILIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Mil I)' lliiiilil since I came to this accursed land ? I cannot stand injustice. It makes my blood boil, and so, since it is rampant here, and everybody has been unjust to me, I have made up my mind to pay them back in their own coin. There seems to me even a spice of justice in that." " I wonder that you cannot see the fallacy of your reasoning, liitson," replied Charlie. "You ask, * What have I done ?' The more appropriate ques- tion would be, ' What have I not done V Have you not, according to your own confession, rebelled against your Maker and cast Him off; yet you expect Him to continue His supplies of food to you; to keep up your physical strength and powers of enjoy- ing life, and, under the name of Luck, to furnish you with the opportunity of breaking His own commands by throwing people in your way to be robbed! Besides which, have you not yourself been guilcy of gro- 3 injustice in leading poor weak Shank Leather into vicious courses— to his great, if not irreparable, damage? I don't profess to teach theolcgy, Ealph Eitson, my old friend, but I do think that even an average cow-boy could understand that a rebel has no claim to forgiveness— much less to favour— until he lays down his arms and gives in." "Had any other man but you, Charlie Brooke, said half as much as you ha\e just said to me, I would have blown his brains out," returned the outlaw sternly. OF THE 8BA AND THE ROCKIES. 167 " ^ '^ """^ S^'"^ "0 Other man did say it then " returned Charlie, "for y„u,. hands mj b' suffi- -eat y a axned already. But don't let anger IZ you to the fact, Ealph, that you and I wtre one what as of far greater importance, the Almighty is Zi:z;:T- '''''''-''' ''''''-'^'^^^ "You preach a strange doctrine," said Buck Tom augh-g softly, ..but you must end your sermon' here m the meantime, for we have reached the entrance to Traitor's Trap, and have not room to nde further abreast. I will lead, and do you follow w.th care, for the path is none o' the safest. My asking you to follow me is a stronger proof than you may thmk that I believe in your friendship. Mos strangers whom I escort ap this gorge are usually requested to lead the way, and I keep my tact :'' '''' '^'^ ''"'"" ''™y ^'■'»" '^' The defile or gorge which they had reached was not mappropriately named, for, although the ori..in the name was unknown, the appearance of the place was eminently suggestive of blackness and reachery. T.,70 spurs of tlie mountain ran^e termed a precipitous and rugged valley which even m daylight, wore a forbidding aspect, and at Mght seemed the very portal to Erebus. "Keep close to my horse's tail," said Buck Tom ■If. m I I I ii 'I ii . 11 } in I |ii!li .H 168 CIIAIILTE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE as they commenced the ascent. " If you stray here, ever so little, your horse will break his neck or legs." Thus admonished, our hero kept a firm hand on the bridle, and closed up as much as possible on his guide. The moon was by this time clouded over, so that, with the precipitous cliffs on either side, and the great mass of the mountains further up, there was only that faint sombre appearance of things which is sometimes described as darkness visible. The travellers proceeded slowly, for, besides the dangQr of straying off the path, the steepness of the ascent rendered rapid motion impossible. After riding for about three miles thus in absolute silence, they came to a spot where the track became some- what serpentine, and Charlie could perceive dimly that they were winding amongst great fragments of rock which were here and there over-canopied by foliage, but whether of trees or bushes he could not distinguish. At last they came to a halt in front of what appeared to be a cliff. "Dismount here," said Buck in a low voice, setting the example. " Is this the end of our ride ? " "It is. Give me the bridle. I will put up your horse. Stand where you are ti^l I return." The outlaw led the horses away, leaving his former friend and schoolfellow in a curious position, and a not very comfortable frame of mind. fJtei ' OF THE SEA AND THE I100KIE3. 169 When a man is engaged in 'action— especially if it be exciting and slightly dangeroas-he has not time to think much about his surroundings, at least about their details, but now, while standing there in the intense darkness, in the very heart— as he had reason to believe-of a robber's ^iitronghold, young Brooke could not help questioning his wisdom in having thus thrown himself into the power of one who had obviously deteriorated and fallen very low since the time when in England they had studied and romped together. It was too late, however, to question the wisdom of his conduct. There he was, and so he must make the best of it. He did not indeed fear treachery in his former friend, but he could not help reflecting that the reckless and perhaps desperate men with whom that friend was now associated might not be easy to restrain, especially if they should become ac- quainted with the fact that he carried a considerable sum of money about him. He was yet pondering his position when Buck Tom returned. "Ealph Eitson," he said, laying his hand on the arm of the outlaw, " you 'II forgive my speaking plamly to you, I know. With regard to yourself I bave not a shadow of doubt that you will act the part of an honourable host, though you follow a dishonourable calling. But I have no guarantee that those who associate with you will resDect my ■mu: 170 CHARLIE TO TIIK llESCUE : A TALIS i M. si^jl|p;!jiii!!:i,iih iiiii ^iii property. Now, I have a considcrablo sum of money about mo in gold and silver, which I brought here expressly for the benefit of our poor frimid Shank Leather. What would you advise me to do in regard to it 'i " "Intrust it to my care," said Buck promptly. Charlie could not see the outlaw's face very clearly, but he could easily detect the half-amused half-mocking tone in which the suggestion was made. *'lly good fellow," said Charlie, in a hearty voice, "you evidently think I am afraid to trust you! That 13 a mistake. I do not indeed trust to any remnant of good that is in your poor human nature, but 1 have confidence in the good feeling which God is arousing in you just now. I will freely hand over the money if you can assure me that you can guard it from your comrades." " This will make it secure from them," returned Buck, with a short defiant laugh. "Humph!" exclaimed Charlie with a shrug. " I Ve not much confidence in that safeguard. No doubt, in certain circumstances, and on certain oc- casions, the revolver is a most important and use- ful instrument, but taking it all round I would not put much store by it. When you met me at the Blue Fork to-night, for instance, of what use was my revolver to me ? And, for the matter of that after you had dropped it on the road of what use was yours to you ? It only wants one of your A OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. in A MIows to have more pluck aad a quicker eye and hand than yourself to detlirone you at once." "Well, none of my fellows," returned Buck Tom good-humouredly, "happen to have the advantage of me at present, so you may trust me and count this one 0' the 'certain occasions' in which the revolver is 'a most important instrument.'" "I dare say you are right," responded Charlie smiling, as he drew from the breast of his coat a small bag and handed it to his companion. "You know exactly, of course, how much is here? "asked Buck Tom. " Yes, exactly." "That's all right," continued Buck, thrusting the bag into the bosom of his hunting coat ; " now I '11 see if any o' the hoys are at home. Doubtless they are out-else they 'd have heard us by this time. Just wait a minute." He seemed to melt into the darkness as he spoke. Another minute and he re-appeared. " Here, give me your hand," he said ; " the passage IS darkish at first." Charlie Brooke felt rather than saw that they had passed under a portal of some sort, and were advancing along a narrow passage. Soon they turned to the left, and a faint red light-as of fire-became visible m the distance. Buck Tom stopped. " There 's no one in the cave but Mm, and he 'a asleep. Follow me." 'itl I ! 172 OIIAULIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE Hi-: The passage in which they stood led to a tliird and shorter one, where the light at its extremity was intense, lighting up the whole of the place so as to reveal its character. It was a corridor about seven feet high and four feet wide cut out of the solid earth; arched in the roof and sup- ported here and there by rough posts to make it still more secure. Charlie at once concluded that it led to one of those concealed caverns, of which he had heard more than once while crossing the country, the entrances of which are made in zig-zag form in order to prevent the possibility of a ray of light issuing from the outside opening. On reaching the end of the third passage he found that his conjecture was right, for the door- way or opening on his left hand conducted into a spacious cave, also hollowed out of the earth, but apparently against a perpendicular cliff, for the inner end of it was of unhewn rocK. The roof of the cave was supported by piUars which were merely sections of pine-trees with the bark left on. These pillars and the earthen walls were adorned with antlers, skulls, and horns of the Eocky mountain sheep, necklaces of grizzly-bear's claws, Indian bows and arrows, rifles, short swords, and various other weapons and trophies of the chase, besides sundry articles of clothing. At the inner end of the cave a large fireplace and chimney had been rudely built, and in this was roaring the pine-wood fire which OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 173 had lighted them in, and which caused the whole interior to glow with a vivid glare that seemed to suipass that of noon-day. A number of couches of pine-brush were spread round the walls, and on one of tliese lay a sleeping figure. Tlie face was turned towards the visitor, who saw at a glance that it was that of his former friend and playmate—but it was terribly changed. Hard toil, suffering, sickness, dissipation, had°set indelible marks on it, and there was a slight curve about the eyebrows which gave the idea of° habitual pain. Yet, strange to say, worn and lined though it was, the face seemea far more attractive and refined than it had ever been in the days of robust health. Buck Tom went to the fire and began to stir the contents of a big pot that hung over it, while Charlie advanced and stood for some minutes gazing at the countenance of his friend, unwilling to dis*^ turb his slumbers, yet longing to cheer him with the glad news that he had come to succour him. He chanced, however, to touch a twig of the pine branches on which the sleeper lay, and Shank awoke mstantly, raised himself on one elbow, and returned his friend's gaze earnestly, but without the slightest symptom of surprise. ^^ " Charlie," he seid at last, in a quiet voice, "I wish you hadn't come to me to-night." He stopped, and Charlie felt quite unable to 174 CIIAULIE TC THE RESCUE : A TALK mm HI I spoak, owing to intense pity, n)inp:lo(l with astonisli- luent, at such a reception. "It's too bad of yc.u," Shank wont on, "worrying mo so in my chviuna. I 'ni weary of it; nnd if you only kninv what a ten-ible disai.pointnient it is to mo when I awake and don't lind you there, you wouUhi't tanlidisu mo so. You always look so ter- ribly real too I Man, I could almost pledge my life that you are no decei)tiou this time, but -but I'm so used to it now that " " Slumk, my dear boy," said Charlie, finding words at last, " it is no deception " He stopped abni})tly, for the intense look of cngor anxiety, doubt, and hope in the thin expres- sive face alarmed liim. " Charlie 1" gasped, rather than said, the invalid, "you— you never sjwh to me before in my dreams,' and— you never touched— iho grip of your strong h God 1 can it be true ?" At this point Buck Tom suddenly left off his occupation at the fire and went out of the cave. ' Ji. if;- OF TIIK SEA AND THE K0CKIE8. 17ft citapti:r XV. LOVr AND FotTND. ^ " Try to be calm, Rlmnk." said Cl.arlio, in a sooth- ing tone. Qs ho knoohul l)e,sido tho shadow that had oiico boon his sturdy chum, and put an arm on his sliouklor. " It is indeed myself this time I have come all the way from England to seek you for we heard, through liitson, that you wore ill and lost m these wilds, and now, through God's mercy I have found you." While Charlie Brooke was speaking, the poor invalid was breathing hard and gazing at him, as if to make quite sure it was all true. " Yes," he said at last, unable to raise his voice above a hoarse whisper, " lost~and-and-found » Charlie, my friend— my chum—my " He could say no more, but, laying his head like a ittle child on the broad bosom of his rescuer, he burst into a passionate flood of tears. Albeit strong of will, and not 'by any means given to the melting mood, our hero was unable for a minute or two to make free use of his voice. > .V^^ Ss- b ^^> IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / O {./ fe .^1^ 4^n :/. f/. 1.0 ■25 MHHB 1^128 S "^ IS U lift 1.1 l.-^liS 1.6 IL25 i 1.4 VI *> * Photographic Sciences Corporation # \ %■ >. 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 87*i-4S03 •>*1'^ ** 4^ ^ ^ ^v 176 OHAKLIB TO THE KESOUE : A TALE " Come, now, Shank, old man, you mustn't give way like that. You wouldn't, you know, if you had not been terribly reduced by illness " " Yes, I would 1 yes, I would !" interrupted the sick man, almost passionately; "I 'd howl, I *d roar, I'd blubber like a very idiot, I'd do any mortal thing, if the doing of it would only make you understand how I appreciate your great kindness in coming out here to save me." "Oh no, you wouldn't," said Charlie, afifecting an easy off-hand tone, which he was far from feeling ; "you wouldn't do anything to please me." " What d' ye mean ?" asked Shank, with a look of surprise. "Well, I mean," returned the other, gently, "that you won't even do such a trifle as to lie down and keep quiet to please me." A smih lighted up the emaciated features of the sick man, as he promptly lay back at full length and shut his eyes. "There, CharUe," he said, "I'll behave, and let you do all the talking; but don't let go my hand, old man. Keep a tight grip of it. I 'm terrified lest you drift off again, and— and melt away." " No fear. Shank. I '11 not let go my hold of you, please God, till I carry you back to old England." " Ah ! old England I I '11 never see it again. I feel that. But tell me "— he started up again, with a return of the excited look— "is father any better ?" OF THE SEA AND THE KOCKIEa 07 "K-no. not exactly-but he is no worse. I'll teU you aU about everything if you will only lie down again and keep silent." The invalid once more lay back, closed his eyes and hstened. while his friend related to him all that he knew about his fami:y affairs, and the kindness of old Jacob Crossley, who had not only befriended them when in great distress, but had furnished the money to enable him (Charlie) to visit these out- land«h regions for the express purpose of rescuing Shank from all his troubles and dangers. At this point the invalid interrupted him with an anxious look. " Have you the money with you ?" " Yes." "All of it?" " Yes. Why do you ask ?" "Because," returned Shank, with something of a groan, "you are in a den of thieves I" "I know it, my boy," returned Charlie, with a smile, "and so, for better security, I have given it in charge to our old chum, Ealph Eitson " "Whatl" exclaimed Shank, starting up again 2m r °^"* '^''' "^°" ^^^^ ■"*' ^P''' " I have. He conducted me here." 'I And you have intrusted your money to him r Yes— all of it ; every cent !" "Are you aware/' continued Shark, in a solemn M mf 178 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALK tone, " that Ralph Ritson is Buck Tom — the noted chief of the outlaws ?" "I know it." " And you trust him ?" " I do. I have perfect confidence that he is quite incapable of betraying an old friend." For some time Shank looked at his companion in surprise; then an absent look came into his eyes, and a variety of expressions passed over his wan visage. At last he spoke. " I don't know how it is, Charlie, but somehow I think you are right. It 's an old complaint of mine, you know, to come round to your way of thinking, whether I admit it or not. In days of old I usually refused to admit it, but believed in you all the same ! If any man had told me this morning — ay, even half an hour since — that he had placed money in the hands of Buck Tom for safe keeping, know- ing who and what he is, I would have counted him an incurable i^ol ; but now, somehow, I do believe that you were quite right to do it, and that your money is as safe as if it were in the Bank of England." " But I did not intrust it to Buck Tom, knowing who and what he is" returned Charlie, with a signi- ficant smile, "I put it into the hands of Ealph Eitson, knowing who and what he was." "You're a good fellow, Charlie," said Shank, squeezing the hand that held his, " and I believe it OF THE SEA AND THE BOOKIES. 1 79 is that very trustfulness of yours which gives vou so great power and influence with people. I know It has influenced me for good many a time in the past, and would continue to do so still if I were not past redemption." "No man is past redemption," said the other He stopped abruptly, and both men turned their eyes towards the entrance to the cave. "Did you hear anything?" asked Shank, in a low voice. "I thought so-but it must have been the shift- hi to *j "" *""' ^"''" "^^ *'*' "*''• •'' » """^wiy toJ« T,V°\^''''*^'" "^"^ Shank, in his ordinaiy tones, let me hear something about yourself. You doing these three years past." ™i' '^ '^^' * '"^^* ""* ""^ "S'^^ heard in the passage, and, next moment, Buck Tom re-entered cariying a lump of meat. Whether he had been hstemng or not they had no means of knowing, for his countenance was quite grave and naturd in appearance. " I suppose you have had long enough, yon two to renew your old acquaintance," he said. «Itbeho;es agamst their return, for they would be iU-pleased to ca »..t m ||- » m 1* •f ' ''\t '.41 ■.p' M ^ t ■ < :c » p. . if *• I I •• I J 1 1 i • i i I 180 CIIAULIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE come home to an empty kettle, and their appetites are surprisingly strong. But you needn't interrupt your conversation. I can do my work without disturbing you." "We have no secrets to communicate, Buck," returned Shank, "and I have no doubt that the account of himself, which our old chum was just going to give, will be as interesting to you as to me." " Quite as interesting," rejoined Buck ; " so pray go on, Brooke. I can listen while I look after the cookery." Thus urged, our hero proceeded to relate his own adventures at sea— the wreck of the Walrus, the rescue by the whaler, and his various experiences both afloat and ashore. " The man, Dick Darvall, whom I have mentioned several times," said Charlie, in conclusion, " I met with again in New York, when I was about to start to come here, and as I wanted a companion, and he was a most suitable man, besides being willing to come, I engaged him. He is a rough and ready, but a handy and faithful, man, who had some experience in woodcraft before he went to sea, but I have been forced to leave him behind me at a ranch a good many miles to the south of David's store, owing to the foolish fellow having tried to jump a creek in the dark and broken his horse's leg. We could not get another horse at the time, and as I was very 0» THE SKA AND TIIR ROCimSS. IgJ T iTt the ranch was a comfortable enough berth, I left h,m behind, aa I have said, with directions to stay tall I should return, or to push on if he could find a safe guide." While Charlie Brooke was relating the last part of his experience, it might have been observed that the countenance of Buck Tom underwent a variety of cunous changes, like the sky of an April day A somewhat stem frown settled on it at last," but neither of his companions observed the fact, bein<- too much interested in each other. " "What was the name o' the ranch where your mate was left V asked Buck Tom, when his guest ceased speaking. '' ^ "The ranch of Soaring Bull," answered Charlie. I should not wonder," he added, "if its name were denved from its owner's voice, for it sounded hke he blast of a trombone when he shouted to his pGople. ^ "Not only his ranch but himself is named after h.8 voice,' returned Buck. "His real name is Jackson, but it is seldom used now. Eveiy one knows him as Eoaring Bull He 's not a bad fellow at bottom, but something overbearing, and has made a good many enemies since he came to this part of the country six years ago." " That may be so," remarked Brooke, « but he was veiy kind to us the day we put up at his place, and If 183 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALI Dick Darvall, at all events, is not one of his enemies. Indeed he and Roaring Bull took quite a fancy to each other. It seemed like love at first sight. Whether Jackson's pretty daughter had anything to do with the fancy on Dick's part of course I can't say. Now, I think of it, his readiness to remain behind inclines me to believe it had !" "Well, come outside with me, and have a chat about old times. It is too hot for comfort here. I dare say our friend Shank will spare you for quarter of an hour, and the pot can look after itself. By the way, it would be as well to call me Buck Tom— or Buck. My fellows would not understand Ealph Ritson. They never heard it before. Have a cigar?" " No, thank you, I have ceased to see the advan- tage of poisoning one's-self merely because it is the fashion to do so." " The poison is wonderfully slow," said Buck. "But not less wonderfully sure," returned Charlie, with a smile. "As you will," rejoined Buck, rising and going outside with his visitor. The night was very still and beautiful, and, the clouds having cleared away, the moonbeams struggled through the foliage and revealed the extreme wildness and seclusion of the spot which had been chosen by the outlaws as their fortress. Charlie now saw that the approach to the entrance II! 11 OF THE 8BA AND THE ROCKIES. 188 of the cave was a narrow nock of rock resembling a natural bridge, with a deep gully on either side, and that the cliff which formed the inner end of the cavern overhung its base, so that if an enemy were to attempt to hurl rocks down from above theso would drop beyond the cave altogether. This much he saw at a glance. The minute details and intri- cacies of the place of course could not be properly seen or understood in the flickering and uncertain light which penetrated the leafy canopy, and. as it were, played with the shadows of the fallen rocks that strewed the ground everywhere, and hung in apparently perilous positions on the mountain slopes. The manner of the outlaw changed to that of mtense earnestness the moment he got out to the open air. "Charlie Brooke," he said, with more of the tone and air of old familiar friendship than he had yet allowed himself to assume, "it's of no use exciting poor Shank unnecessarily, so I brought you out here to tell you that your man Dick Darvall is in deadly peril, and nothing but immediate action on my part can save him; I must ride without delay to his rescue. You cannot help me in this. I know what you are going to propose, but you must trust and obey me if you would save your friend's life. To accompany me would only delay and finally mar my plans. Now, will you " ii/. 1 , i 184 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE A peculiar whistle far down the gorge cmscd the outlaw to cease abruptly and listen. The whistle was repeated, and Buck answered it at once with a look of great surprise. " Those are my fellows back already I " he said. " You seem surprised. Did you, then, not expect them so soon ? " "I certainly did not; something must have gone wrong," replied Buck, with a perplexed look. Then, as if some new idea had flashed upon him, "Kow, look here, Brooke, I must ask you to trust me implicitly and to act a part. Your life may depend on your doing this." " The first I can do with ease, but as to the latter, my agreeing to do so depends on whether the action you require of me is honourable. You must forgive me. Kits " "Hush I Don't forget that there is no such man as Ralph Ritson in these mountains. My life may depend on your remembering that. Of course I don't expect you to act a dishonourable part,— all I want you to do just now is to lie down and pre- tend to go to sleep." " Truly, if that is all I am ready," said Charlie • "at all events I will shut my eyes and hold my tongue." "A useful virtue at times, and somewhat rare," said Buck, leading his guest back into the cavern. "Now, then, Brooke, lie down there," pointing to I OF THE SKA AND THR ROOKIM. 1 80 a couch of pine-brush in a corner, "and try to sleep if you can." Our }»oro at onco complied, stretched himself at full length with his face to the light, and apparently went to sleep, but with his left arm thrown over his forehead as if to protect his eyes from the glare of the fire. Thus he was in a position to see as well as hear all that went on. Buck Tom went to the sick man and whispered something to him. Then, returning to the fire, he continued to stir the big pot, and sniff its savoury contents with much interest 186 CHARLIE TO THE HESCUi: A TALI CHAPTER XVI. flUiWDB AND r0U~VUm AND COUNTMPLOTI - TIIK RANCH IN DANOER. In a few minutes the Bound of heavy feet and grufif voices was heard in the outside passage, and next moment ten men filed into the room and saluted their chief heartily. Charlie felt an almost irresistible tendency to open his eyes, but know that the risk was too great, and contented himself with his ears. These told him pretty eloquently what was going on, for sud- denly, the noise of voices and clattering of footsteps ceased, a dead silence ensued, and Charlie knew that the whole band were gazing at him with wide open eyes and, probably, open mouths. Their attention had been directed to the stranger by the chief. The silence was only momentary, however. "Now, don't begin to whisper, pards," said Buck Tom, in a slightly sarcastic tone. "When will ye learn that there is nothing so Hkely to waken a sleeper as whisperin' ? Be natural—be natural, and tell me, as softly as ye can in your natural tones. Of TIIK BRA AND Till ROCKHW. 187 what haa brought you back go soon. Come, Jake, you have got the quiotest voice. The poor man is' pretty well knocked up and needs reat I brought him here." "Ho8 ho got much ?•• the sentence was com- pleted by Jake significantly slapping his pocket. •' A goodish lot But come, sit down and out wi' the news. Something must bo wrong." "Wall. I guess that somothin' is wrong. Every- thing 's wrong, as far as I can see. The Prriskins are up, an' the troops are out, an' so it seemed o' no use our goin' to 'bust up the ranch of Eoarin* Hull, seein' that the red devils are likely to be there before us. So we came back here, an' I 'm glad you 've got suthin' in the pot, for we 're about as empty as kettledrums." " Humph 1" ejaculated Buck, "didn't I tell you not to trouble Boarin' Bull-that he and his boys could lick you if you had been twenty instead of ten. But how came ye to hear o' this cock-and- bull story about the Eedskins ? " " We got it from Hunky Ben, an' he 'a not the boy to go spreadin' false reports." Charlie Brooke ventured at this point to open his eye-lids the smallest possible bit, so that any one looking at him would have failed to observe any motion in them. The little slit, however, admitted the whole scene to the retina, and he perceived that ten of the most cut-throat-looking men conceivable 11 t I 3 188 CHARLIE TO THE KESCUE : A TAL3 were seated in a semicircle in the act of receiving portions from the big pot into tin plates. Most of them were clothed in hunters' leathern costume, wore long boots with spurs, and were more or less bronzed and bearded. Buck Tom, ab'as Ealph Eitson, although as tall and strong as any of them, seemed a being of quite angplic gentleness beside them. Yet Buck was their acknowledged chief. No doubt it was due to the superiority of mind over matter, for those out- laws were grossly material and matter-of-fact! " There must be some truth in the report if Hunky Ben carried it," said Buck, looking up quickly, " but I left Ben sitting quietly in David's store not many hours ago." "No doubt that's true, Captain," dsid Jake, as he ladled the soap into his capacious mouth ; " never- theless we met Hunky Ben on the pine-river prairie scourin' over the turf like all possessed on Black Polly. We stopped him of course an' asked the news.'** "'News!' cried he, 'why, the Eedskins have dug up the hatchet an' riz like one man. They 've clar'd out Yellow BluflF, an' are- pourin' like Niagara down upon Eaaper's Creek. It's said that they'll visit Eoarin' Bull's ranch to-morrow. No time for more talk, boys. Oratin' ain't in my line. I'm off to Quester Creek to rouse up the troops.' Wi' that Hanky wheeled round an' went off like a runaway n OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 189 Streak o' Jightnin'. I sent a coiiplo o' shots after him. for I 'd took a fancy to Black Polly-but them bullets didn't seem to hit somehow." "Boys," cried Buck Tom, jumping up when he heard this, "if Hunky Ben said all that, you may depend on't it's true, an' we won't have to waste time this night if we're to save the ranch of Boarin' "But we don't want to save the ranch of Eoarin' Bull, as far as I 'm consarned," said Jake rather sulkily. Buck wheeled round on the man with a fierce glare, but, as if suddenly changing his mind, he said m a tone of well-feigned surprise—" What ! ym, Jake, of all men-such a noted lady-killer- indifferent about the fate of the ranch of Eoaring Bull, and pretty Miss Mary Jackson in it, at the mercy of the Redskins!" " Well, if it comes to that. Captain, I '11 ride as far and as fast as any man to rescue a girl, pretty or plain, from the Redskins," said Jake, recovering his good-humour. " Well, then, cram as much grub as you can into you in five minutes, for we must be off by that time Bise, sir," said Buck, shaking Charlie with some violence. " We ride on a matter of life an' death- to save women. Will you join us ? " "Of course I will!" cried Charlie, starting up with a degree of alacrity and vigour that favourably »w«4 190 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE K'- impressed the outlaws, and shaking off his simulated sleep with wonderful facility. "Follow me, then," cried Buck, hastening out of the cave. "But what of Shank?" asked Charlie, in some anxiety, when they got outside. " He cannot accom- pany us ; may we safely leave him behind ? " " Quite safely. This place is not known to the Ravages who are on the warpath, and there is no- thing to tempt them this way even if it were. Besides, Shank is well enough to get up and gather firewood, kindle his fire, and boil the kettle for himself. He is used to being left alone. See, here is our stable under the cliff, and yonder stands your horse. Saddle him. The boys will be at our heels in a moment. Some of them are only too glad to have a brush wi' the Kedskins, for they killed two of our band lately." This last remark raised an uncomfortable feeling in the mind of Charlie, for was he not virtually allying himself with a band of outlaws, with intent to attack a band of Indians of whom he knew little or nothing, and with whom he had no quarrel? There was no time, however, to weigh the case critically. The fact that savages were about to attack the ranch in which his comrade Dick Darvall was staying, and that there were females in the place, was enough to settle the question. In a minute or two he had saddled his horse, which he OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 191 led out and fastened to a tree, and while the outlaws were busy making preparations for a start he ran back to the cave. " Shank," said he, sitting down beside his friend and taking his hand, "you have heard the news. My comrade Darvall is in great danger. I must away to his rescue. But be sure, old fellow, that I will return to you soon." " Yes, yes— I know," returned Shank, with a look of great anxiety; " but, Charlie, you don't know half the danger you run. Don't fight with Buck Tom- do you hear ? " "Of course I won't," said Charlie, in some sur- prise. "No, no, that's not what I mean," said Shank, with increasing anxiety. "Don't fight in company with Mm." At that moment the voice of the outlaw was heard at the entrance shouting, « Come along, Brooke, we 're all ready." "Don't be anxious about me, Shank; I'll take good care," said Charlie, as he hastily pressed the hand of the invalid and hurried away. The ten men with Buck at their head were already mounted when he ran out. ^^ "Pardon me," he said, vaulting into the saddle, " I was having a word with the sick man." " Keep next to me, and close up," said Buck, as he wheeled to the right and trotted away. Hm^ 192 CHARLIE TO THE IlESCUE : A TALE h Down the Traitor's Trap they went at what was to Charlie a break-neck but satisfactory pace, for now that he was fairly on the road a desperate anxiety lest they should be too late took possession of him. Across an open space they went, at the bottom of which ran a brawling rivulet. There was no bridge, but over or through it went the whole band without the slightest check, and onward at full gallop, for the country became more level and open just beyond. The moon was still shining although sinking towards the horizon, and now for the first time Charlie began to note with what a stern and reck- less band of men he was riding, and a feeling of something like exultation arose within him as he thought on the one hand of the irresistible sweep of an onslaught from such men, and, on the other, of the cruelties that savages were known to practise. In short, rushing to the rescue was naturally con- genial to our hero. About the same time that the outlaws were thus hastening for once on an honourable mission — though some of them went from anything but honourable motives— two other bands of men were converging to the same point as fast as they could go. These were a company of United States troops, guided by Hunky Ben, and a large band of Indians Viader their warlike chief Bigfoot. Jackson, alias Eoaring Bull, had once inadvertently OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 193 given offence to Bigfoot, and as that chief was both by nature and profession an unforgiving man he had vowed to have his revenge. Jackson treated the threat lightly, but his pretty daughter Maiy was not quite as indifferent about it as her father The stories of Indian raids and frontier wars and barbarous cruelties had made a deep impression on her sensitive mind, and when her mother died leavmg her the only woman at her father's ranch- with the exception of one or two half-breed women who could not be much to her as companions-her life had been very lonely, and her spirit had been subjected to frequent, though hitherto groundless, alarms. But pretty Moll, as she was generally called, was well protected, for her father, besides having been a noted pugilist in his youth, was a big, powerful man, and an expert with rifle and revolver. Moreover there was not a cow-boy within a hundred miles ot her who would not (at least thought he would not) have attacked single-handed the whole race of Eedskins if Moll had ordered him to do so as a proof of affection. Now, when strapping, good-looking Dick Darvall came to the ranch in the course of his travels and beheld Mary Jackson, and received the first broad- side from ht, .right blue eyes, he hauled down his colours and surrendered with a celerity which would Have mightily amused the many comrades to whom N m 194 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALK he had said in days of yore that his heart was as hard as rock, and he had never yet seen the woman as could soften it ! But Dick, more than most of his calling, was a modest, almost a bashful, man. He behaved to Mary with the politeness that was natural to him, and with which he would have approached any woman. He did not make the slightest attempt to show his admiration of her, though it is quite within the bounds of possibility that his "speaking" brown eyes may have said something without his permis- sion I Mary Jackson, being also modest in a degree, of course did not reveal the state of her feelings, and made no visible attempt to ascertain his, but her bluff sagacious old father was not obtuse — neither was he reticent. He was a man of the world—at least of the back- woods world — and his knowledge of life, as there exhibited, was founded on somewhat acute experience. He knew that his daughter was young and remarkably pretty. He saw that Dick Darvall was also young — a dashing and unusually handsome sailor — something like what Tom Bowling may have been. Putting these things together, he came to the very natural conclusion that a wedding would be desirable ; believing, as he did, that human nature in the Eockies is very much the same as to its founda- tion elements as it is elsewhere. Moreover, Eoaring Bull was very much in want of a stout son-in-law at fc**»w wiiiic, ou iic lauucu i/uu u-Auiki wiUcn ne rondly OF THE SEA AND THE UOCKIBS. 190 Imped was beginning to arise. This he did in a somswhat blundering and obvious manner, but Dick was too much engrossed with Mary to notice It, and Mary was too ignorant of the civilised world's ways to care much for the proprieties of life Of course this state of things created an awful commotion iu the breasts of the cow-boys who were .n he employment of Mary's father and herded his cattle. Their mutual jealousies were sunk in the supreme danger that threatened them all, and thev were only restrained from picking a quarrel with Dick and shooting him by the calmly resolute look in his brown eyes, coupled with his great physical power and his irresistible good-nature. Urbanity seemed to have been the mould in which the spirit of this man-of-the-sea had been cast, and gentleness was one of his chief chawcteristics. Moreover he could tell a good story, and sing a good song in a fine bass voice. Still further, although these gallant cow-boys felt intensely jealous of this new- comer, they could not but admit that they had nothing tangible to go upon, for the sailor did not apparently pay any pointed attention to Mary and she certainly gave no special encouragement to 'him There was one cow-boy, however, of Irish descent who could not or would not make up his mind to take things quietly, but resolved, as far as he was concerned, to bring matters t.n » h».d W- was Pat Eeilly. llMi. 196 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE He entered the kitchen on the day after Dick's aiTival and found Mary alone and busily engaged with the dinner. "Miss Jackson," said Pat, "there's a question I 've bin wantin' to ax ye for a long time past, an' with your lave I '11 putt it now." " What is it, Mr. lieilly ?" asked the girl somewhat stiffly, for she had a suspicion of what was coming. A little negro girl in the back kitchen named Buttercup also had a suspicion of what was coming, and stationed herself with intense delight behind the door, through a crack in which she could both hear and see. "Mary, my dear," said Pat insinuatingly, "how would you like to jump into double harness with me an' jog along the path o' life together ? " Poor Mary, being agitated by the proposal, and much amused by the manner of it, bent over a pofc of something and tried to hide her blushes and amusement in the steam. Buttercup glared, grinned, hugged herself, and waited for more. Pat, erroneously supposing that silence meant consent, slipped an arm round Mary's waist. No man had ever yet dared to do such a thing to her. The indignant girl suddenly wheeled round and brought her pretty little palm down on the cow- boy's cheek with all her might— and that was considerable ! OF THE SEA AND XllE UOCKlEg. J 97 demanded Buttercup i„ « .erious tone, aa she popped her woolly head through the doorway "Nobody, me black darlin'," said Pat; "it 'a only Miss Mary expressin" her failin's in a choekv manner. That 'sail I" So saying the rejected cow-boy luft the scene of his discomfiture, mounted his mustang, took his departure from the ranch of Eoarin' Bull without saying farewell, and when next heard of had crossed the lonely Guadalupe mountains into Ivincoln County, New Mexico. But to return. While the troops and the outlaws were hastening thus to the rescue of the dwellers in Bu Is ranch, and the blood-thirsty JRedskins were making for the same point, bent on the destruction 01 all Its inhabitants. Roaring Bull himself, his pretty daughter, and Dick Darvall, were seated in the ranch enjoying their supper, all ignorant alike of the movements of friend and foe, with Butter- cup waiting on tliem. One messenger, however, was speeding on his way to warn them of danger. This was the cow- boy Crux, who had been despatched on Bluefire by Hunky Ben just before that sturdy scout had started to call out the cavalry at Quester Creek imv.. !98 CHARLIE lU rHK KEiOUl : A TALE CHAPTER XVII. l£ii- good or bad. In the midst of one of t' -. telling of his anecdotes the speaker was suddenly arrested by the quick tramp of a galloping horse, the rider of which, judging from the sound, seemed to be in hot haste. ' All eyes were turned inquiringly on the master of the ranch. That cool individual, rising with quiet yet rapid action, reached down a magazine .» 01^ TIIK BEA AUD TIIK K0CKIK8. fOl OUorving this, I.iek Darvnll drew . rovolvor from In, co«t.,K,ckot «„d followed hi. host to Z outer door of tho hoi.M,. M. " nn.l n„ff ""'■'' "ccompauiod them, «".! Huttorcup retired to tho hack kitchen a, hoi„« hor appropriate stronghold. ^ whl^Ill','" r ''""^'^ "'"^'""' ■'■"' """« "f ^•'' ^'"' door yard jr h Crux tho cow-boy on hi, back. Wall Uoaring l,.,,!," cried Crux, leaping off hia "othmg tho matter. " I '„. giad to see you O K for t. «ck, for your ranch. Hut as they Vo not got hero ye .they won't likely attack till the moon go's down 's__U.ro any chuck goin'? I'm half starved." Ay Crux, lots o' chuck hero. Come in an' let 'a hear all about. Where got ye tho news ?" at fir?". ^. ''? ''"' ""'• "" ^"'"'^ 'hinkin' o' you at first but when a boy came in wi' the news that to rouse ut"tr 1 '° ^"" ""' '"' <^-''- Creek to rouse up tho cavalry-ho asked me to come on here an' warn you." «.!' tth r '?"";'"' "' ""'^■""^ '«' "o'^" '0 Uo the h . "? " '"''° "''° ""="»' business, wnue the host and hia co,i«« . . . . . .' flffa,. fi J /. ■■"""* ^"^■®'' "*^6ni; to look after the defences of the place. m 202 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE \u " I 'm glad you are here, Dick Darvall," said the foxmer, "for it's a bad job to be obliged to fight without help agin a crowd o' yellin* Reds. My boys won't be back ull sun-i p, an' by that time the game may be played out." "D'ee think the Redsi-.ius '11 attack us t3-night then ? " asked the sailor as he assisted lo close the gates of the yard. " Ay, that they will, lad. They know the value o' time better than most men, and, when they sec their chance, are not slow to take advantage of it. As Crux said, they won't attack while the moon shines, so we have plenty of time to git ready for them. I wish I hadn't sent off my boys, but as bad luck would have it a bunch o' my steers have drifted down south, an' I can't afford to lose them — so, you see, there 's not a man left in the place but you an' me an* Crux to defend poor Mary." For the first time in his life Dick Darvall felt a distinct tendency to rejoice over the fact that he was a young and powerful man! To live and, if need be, die for Mary was worth living for ! " Are you well supplied with arms an' ammuni- tion ? " he asked. " That am I, and we '11 need it all," answered the host, as he led Dick round to the back of the yard where another gate required fastening. " I don't see that it matters much," said Dick in a questioning tone, " whether you shut the gates or OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 203 not. With SO few to defend the place the house wUl be our only chance." "When you've fought as much wi' Eeds as I have Dick, you'll larn that delay, even for five minutes, counts for a good deal." w1,T'"' *^'*'' """'*'"' '" *'^»'- I* -"Ms me what one luy shipmates who had bin in the Lon- itutt off w °°?' '"'• '''"'''' '"-^ '>«' '"«vei- putt off what you've got to do. Sometimes I've bm at a fire where the loss of only two minutes caused the destruction of a store worth ten thou! sand pound, more or less. We all but saved it as It was-so near were we, that if we had bin one fflnute sooner I do believe we'd have saved it. But when we was makin' for that fire full saU.a deaf old applewoman came athwart our bows an' got such a fright that .,he went flop down right in front of us. To steer clear of her we 'd got to sheer offso that we all but ran into a big van:and, wh ok fright and backed into us as we flew past, so that we a'most went down by the starn. One C or another we lost two minutes, as I 've said an'Z owners o' that store lost ..out ten thous^'pou —more or less.' " f"""u'> " ^^^'7^« a b'g pile, Dick," observed the ranch- man as they turned from the gate towards the lot. not easv to rPT^ionp » * "True-my shipmate never seemed to be quite llPi. ^ ■ ■ A '■ ■ ^- I m I: f "Hill! 204 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUf: : A TALE sure whether it was more or less that was lost, but he thought the Insurance offices must have found it out by that time. It 's a pity there 's only three of us, for that will leave one side o' the house undefended." "All right, Dick; you don't trouble your head about that, for Buttercup fights like a black tiger. She 's a'most as good as a man — only she can't man- age to aim, so it 's no use givin' her a rifle. She *s game enough to fire it, but the more she tries to hit the more she 's sure to miss. However, she 's got a way of her own that sarves well enough to defend her side o* the house. She always takes charge o' the front. My Mary can't fight, but she 's a heroine at loadin' — an* that 's somethin' when you 're hard pressed ! Come, now, I '11 show ye the shootin' irons an' our plan of campaign." Eoaring Bull led the way back to the room, or central hall, where they had supped, and here they found that the debris of their feast had already been cleared away, and that arms of various kinds, with ammunition, covered the board. " Hospitable alike to friend and foe," said Jackson gaily. " Here, you see, Mary has spread supper for theEeds!" Darvall made no response to this pleasantry, for he observed that poor Mary's pretty face was very pale, and that it wore an expression of mingled sadness and anxiety. lost, but vo found nly three he house our head Lck tiger, m't man- }. She's es to hit 3*8 got a defend charge o' 1 heroine .'re hard bin' irons room, or lere they ady been ids, with Jackson ipper for ,ntry, for mino'led OF THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 205 mckZTl "' ""^"^ '° "^"Ser, I hope." said loudly discussing with Crux the merits of one of 2 " ^"> "° ' I' i» not that," returned the girl sadly I am troubled to think that, however the fight 2' me souls, perhaps many, will be sent T the"' account unprepared. For myself, I shall be sal enough as long as we are able to hold the ho »d^.t may be that aod will send us help Ll: "You may be quite sure," returned Dick with ittft? ' "' "' '^''' "'^» h''^^ « 'P"* o' A sweet though pitiful smile lighted up Marv', pale face for a moment, as she replL thJsh^wa quite sure of that, in a tone which caused Darva^ olTinitThTr '''' ''' ""^^'^ ™"w contain i while he experienced a sensation of beinc stronger than Samson and bigger than Goliath -" And I suppose," continued Dick "t),«t n troops won't be long of coming. Is fhrmanHat ': h's name. Humpy Ben-trustworthy?" "Trustworthy!" exclaimpri fi.^ -^ flush nf or^fT, • ^^^^'""^"^ *^6 niaiden, with a nusn ot enthusiasm; "therp iq T»nf « ,, ' wicxtj IS not a morp fmaf worthy man on this side oM^- P t onhe other side eUhe::t:::L:^..—^'-' i^^i 1 ■ 'y'MMi 20G CITAULIK ro THE RESCUE : A TALE t'.f ^ I II' II' !!ii II I' " Poor Darvall's heart seemed suddenly to find plenty of room within the ribs at that moment, and his truthful visage must have become something of an index to his state of mind, for, to his surprise, Mary laughed. "It seems to me so funny," she continued, "to hear any one ask if Hunky— not Humpy—Ben is to be trusted." "Is he, then, such a splendid young fellow 1" asked the seaman, with just the slightest touch of bitterness in his tone, for he felt as if a rock some- thing like Gibraltar had been laid on his heart. " Well, he 's not exactly young," answered Mary, with a peculiar expression that made her questioner feel still more uncomfortable, "yet he is scarcely middle-aged, but he certainly is the most splendid fellow on the frontier ; and he saved my life once." " Indeed ! how was that ? " "Well, it was this way. I had been paying a short visit to his wife, who lives on the other side of the " "Come along, Darvall," cried Eoaring Bull at that moment. " The moon 's about down, an' we '11 have to take our stations. We shall defend the outworks first, to check them a bit and put off some time, then scurry into the house and be ready for them when they try to clear the fence. Follow me. Out wi' the lights, girls, and away to your posts." "I'll hear the end of your story another time, to find iient, and ething of surprise, ued, "to —Ben is fellow 1 " touch of ck some- sart. 3d Mary, lestioner scarcely splendid 3 once." OF THE SEA AND THE ROOKIES. 207 and following his host and Crux to the outer door th^fM '"'""'' """' '°°''^'"' '^ ^ f^i^t suspicion that RIary was wrestling with another lau.h as he went ff to defend the outworks, but he alsorhap^ily jaying a her side Bull at m' we '11 end the off some eady for How me. osts." er time, 208 CHARLIE TO TIIK UKSCUE : A TALK CHAPTEE XVIir. DEFENCE OP THE RANCH OP EOARINQ BULL. Every light and every spark of fire had been extinguished in the rancli of Eoaring Bull when its defenders issued from its doorway. They were armed to the teeth, and glided across the yard to the fence or stockade that enclosed the buildings, leaving the door slightly open so as to be ready for speedy retreat. It had been arranged that, as there was a large open field without bush or tree in the rear of the ranch, they should leave that side undefended at first. "They'll never come into the open as long as they can crawl up through the bush," Jackson had said, while making his final dispositions. " They *re a'most sure to come up in front, thinkin' we 're all a-bed. Now, mind— don't stand still, boys, but walk along as ye fire, to give *em the notion there 's more of us. An' don't fire at nothin'. They 'd think we was in a funk. An' when you hear me whistle get into the house as quick as a cotton-tail rabbit an' as sly as a snake." After the moon went down, everything in and OF THE SEA AND THE liOCKIES. 200 around tl.o much was as silent as the sravc save nowa,.ju,o„thostan>pofa.,oolonthffl:„;r bndled ready to mount at a moment's notice- for Jackson had made up his mind, if it came to' tl" worst to mount and make a bold dash with all househ^d through the midst of his foes, trusting akmg them by surprise and to his knowledge of the country for success. '' For a long time, probably two hours, the three men stood at their posts motionless ^nd sile^; 3 III there was no sign, either by sight or sound of an enemy. The outline of the dark woods was barely visible against the black sky in front of each sohtary watcher, and no moving thing could be d.stmguished m the open field behind either by Crux or Darvall, to each of whom the field was visible. Jackson guarded the front To Dick, unaccustomed as he was to such war- are, the situation was very trying, and might have told on his nerves severely if he had not been a man of iron mould ; as it was. he had no nerves to speak ! But he was a man of lively imagini o„ More than fifty times within those two hours did lav Z ' . ""^ "'"^"^ '" *« ''-■««^^ that ay between him and the wood, and more than fifty Umes was his Winchester rifle raise, to his shoulde?^ but as often did ^^' nse to his memory tae caution "don't fire at noth m > M IMK(.' m\ m- ^■.«SE.- 210 CHAIILIK TO THE RESCUE : A TALE III! h « < O m, Tlie Btockudo was of peculiar construction, because its owner and maker was eccentric and a mechanical genius. Not only were the pickets of which it was composed very strong and planted with just space between to permit of firing, but there was a plankin of strong boards, waist high, all round the bottom inside, which afforded some protection to defenders by concealing them when they stooped and changed position. While matters were in this state outside, Mary Jackson and Buttercup were standing at an upper window just opposite the front gate, the latter with a huge bell-mouthed blunderbuss of the last century, loaded with buckshot in her hands. Mary stood beside her sable domestic ready to direct her not as to how, but where and when, to use the ancient weapon. " You must be very careful, Buttercup," said Mary in a low voice, " not to fire till I tell you, and to point only where I tell you, else you '11 shoot father. And do keep your finger off the trigger ! By-the- way, have you cocked it ? " "0 missy, I forgit dat," answered the damsel with a self-condemned look, as she corrected the error. " But, don' you fear, Missy Mary. I 's use' to dis yar blunn'erbus. Last time I fire 'im was at a raven. Down goed de raven, blow'd to atims, an' down goed me too— cause de drefful t'ing kicks like a Texas mule. But bress you, I don' mind dat. 1 's used to it ! " 311 0" TIIK SEA AND THE HOCKIES. Buttercup gave a little suiff „f grave ecoru with «ma.y ,ll3 of hfe were beneath her notice. We have aaid that all iirea had been extinguished but this ,s not strictly correct, for in the r„l -here the two .aidens watched the e was an rZ nr^etrt'^^r'-'^''^''^^-^''"-- sparks to betray its presence. On this tl,.- 3 J.od a r ,^,.^^^ ^^ ^^^j ^^ n this h^ found K.r "" °"'^ '""'"^ """ broke the p^ found stulness of the night, while the watchel se^ee y reathed, so intently did they listen a daritb t?""'"' "'" «««-restraining Dick saw a dark object moving towards his side of the stockade, which he felt was much too real o be classed with the creatures of his imagination which had previously given him so much trouble. Wilb ^^ a moment's hesitation the rifle flew to his 3^0^ and the prolonged sUence was broken by the sha n -port, while an involuntary half-suppLs d c ! proved that he had not missed his mark TheZl object hastily retreated. A neighbouring cliffecho d the sailor that they also were on the alert. Instantly the night was rendered hideous bv a trii:'^f^!--^-P-^«.^oraTomtt: ™^— 6«vu yiacQ to a glare of licrht as « 1-ndred rifles vomited their deadl, contend, and •■i ^* iti e,?- r € i 212 CHARMK TO TIIK UEHCUK : A TALK the sound of many rushing foct was heard upon the open sward in front of the ranch. The three male defenders had ducked their heads below the protecting breast-work when the volley was fired, and then, discarding all idea of further care, they skipped along their respective lines, yelling and firing the repeaters so rapidly, that, to any one ignorant of the true state of things, it nmst have seemed as if the place were defended by a legion of demons. To add to the hullabaloo Butter- cup's blunderbuss poured forth its contents upon a group of red warriors who were rushing towards the front gate, with such a cannon-like sound and such wonderful effect, that the rush was turned into a sudden and limping retreat. The effect, indeed, was more severe even than Buttercup had intended, for a stray buckshot had actually taken a direction which had been feared, and grazed her master's left arm! Happily the wound was very slight, and, to do the poor damsel justice, she could not see that her master was jumping from one place to another like a caged lion. Like the same animal, however, he gave her to understand what she had done, by shouting in a thunderous bass roar that fully justified his sobriquet — "Mind your eye, Buttercup! Not so low next time ! " The immediate result of this vigorous defence was to make the Indians draw off and retire to the OF THT: Hf.K AND THE ROCKIER. 213 woods—presumably for consultatiou. By previous arrangement the negro girl issued from t)io house with three fresh repeaters in her arms, ran round to the combatants with them and returned with their almost empty rifles. These she and Mary proceeded to reload in the hall, and then returned to their post at the upper front window. The morning was by this time pretty well ad- vanced, and Jackson felt a little uncertain as to what he should now do. It was still rather dark ; but in a very short time, he knew, dawn would spread over the east, when it would, of course, be quite impossible to defend the walls of the little fort without revealing the small number of its defenders. On the other hand, if tliey should retire at once the enemy miglit find a lodge- ment within, among the outbuildings, before there was liglit enough to prevent them by picking off the leaders ; in which case the assailants would be able to apply fire to the wooden walls of the house without much risk. "If they manage to pile up enough o' brush to clap a light to," he grumbled to himself in an under tone, "it 'sail up wi' us." The thought had barely passed through his brain, when a leaden messenger, intended to pass through' it, carried his cap off his head, and the fire that had discharged it almost blinded him. Bigfoot, the chief of tjie savages, had wriggled himself, snake- ••**' l» r f 1 su ClfAHUr. TO TIIK RRSCUK : A TAU 11 fftflhion, up to the stockado unseen, ami wliilo Konring IJull wjm meditating what wns boat to bo done, ho had nearly succeeded in rendering him unnble to do anything at all. The shot was tho signal for another onslaught. Once more tho woods rang with fiendish yells and rattling volleys. Bigfoot, with tho agility and strength of a gorilla, leaped up and over tho stockado and sprung down into Jackson's arms, while Darvall and Crux resumed their almost ubiquitous process of defence, and Ihittorcup's weapon again thundered forth its defiance. This time the fight was more protracted. Big- foot's career was indeed stopped for the time being, for Jackson not only crushed the life almost out of him by au unloving embrace, but dealt him a prize-fighter's blow which efllectually stretched him on the ground. Not a moment too soon, however, for the white man had barely got rid of the red one, when another savage managed to scale the wall. A blow from the butt of Jackson's rifle dropped him, and then the victor fired so rapidly, and with such eftect, that a second time the Eeds were repulsed. Jackson did not again indulge in meditation, but blew a shrill blast on a dog-whistle— a precon- certed signal— on hearing which his two comrades made for the house door at full speed. Only one other of the Indians, besides the two alreadv mpnf.i'nno*! haA a\^f^r>aaAaA in «/^*■^.: 4.1.- Jill Of THF SKA AND THR ROCKIKS. 215 stockndo. This man wa« creeping up to the open door of the house, and, tomahawk in hand, had al- most reached it when Dick Darvall came tearing round the corner. " Hallo I Crux," cried Dick, •• that you ? " The fact that ho received no reply was sufficiont for Dick, who was too close to do more than drive the point of his rifle against the chest of the In- dian, who went down as if ho had been shot, while Dick sprang in and held open the door. A word from Jackson and Crux as they ran forward suUiced. They passed in and the massive door was shut and barred, whilo an instant later at least half-a-dozen savages ran up against it and began to thunder on it with their rifle-butts and tomahawks. "To your windows I" shouted Jackson, as he sprang up the wooden stair-case, three steps at a time. " Fresh rifles here, Mary I " " Yes, father," came in a silvery and most unwar- like voice from the hall below. Another moment and three shots rang from the three sides of the house, and of the three Indians who were at the moment in the act of clambering over the stockade, one fell inside and two out. Happily, daylight soon began to make objects dis- tinctly visible, and the Indians were well aware that it would now be almost certain death to any one who should attempt to climb over. It is well known that, as a rule, savages do not »wn. 216 CHARLIE TO THE RESCUE : A TALE P »'"3 throw away their lives recklessly. The moment it became evident that darkness would no longer serve them, those who were in the open retired to the woods, and potted at the windows of the ranch, but, as the openings from which the besieged fired were mere loop-holes made for the purpose of defence, they had little hope of hitting them at long range except by chance. Those of the besiegers who happened to be near the stockade took shelter behind the breast- work, and awaited further orders from their chief —ignorant of the fact that he had already fallen. Fropa the loop-holes of the room which Jackson had selected to defend, the shed with the saddled horses was visible, so that no one could reach it without coming under the fire of his deadly weapon. There was also a window in this room opening upon the back of the house and commanding the field which we have before mentioned as being unde- fended while the battle was waged outside. By casting a glance now and then through this window he could see any foe who might show himself in that direction. The only part of the fort that seemed exposed to great danger now was the front door, where the half-dozen savages, with a few others who had joined them, were still battering away at the impregnable door. Dick, who held the garret above, could not see the door, of course, nor could he by any manoeuvre manage to bring his rifle to bear on it from his lent it r serve to the li, but, 1 were 3, they jxcept tied to Teast- chief 3n. ckson ddled .ch it lapon. upon field inde- By Qdow ilf in emed door, I who t the ethe luvre L his N» Sf- t I .^' iiii i ■li! 1 " NOW, BUTTERCUP, GIVE IT 'EM-HOT. "-PaRP, 217. OP THE SEA AND THE ROCKIES. 217 loop-hole, and he dared not leave his post lest more In^ans should manage to scale the front stockade Buttercup, in the room below, had indeed a bet- ter chance at her window, but she was too inexpert in warfare to point the blunderbuss straight down and fire with effect, especially knowing, as she did, that he sight of her arm in the act would be the signal for a prompt fusillade. But the girl was not apparently much concerned about that or anything else. The truth is that she possessed in an eminent and enviable degree the spirit of entire trust in a leader. She was under orders, and awaited the word of command with perfect equanimity ! She even smiled slightly-if such a mouth could be said do anything slightly-when Mary left her to take ■TCsh rifles to the defenders overhead. At last the command came from the upper re- gions, in tones that caused the very savages to pause a moment and look at each other in surprise. 1 hey did not pause long, however! "Now, Buttercup," thundered Bearing Bull, "give It 'em— hot!" ° At the word the girl calmly laid aside her weapon, ifted the big iron pot with familiar and business- like facility, and emptied it over the window The result is more easily imagined than described. A yell that must have been heard mUes off was the prelude to a stampede of the most ]iv«lv „,t„,e It was intensified, if possible, by the further acton