A millionaire at sixteen

Captain Ringgold and Louis Belgrave did not at once understand what Frinks was doing, for the boat could hardly be seen in the gloom of the dark and stormy night. They heard the noise made in getting away from the shore, and then the dip of the oars in the water. The young millionaire was the first to suspect that something was wrong, but he did not feel well enough assured of it to say anything, for he was strongly opposed to becoming a prophet of evil under any circumstances; but he halted in the march which had already been begun in the direction of the town.

The young man stopped short a few rods from the shore, and listened with all his ears for any sounds which would afford him further information, while the shipmaster and the cook continued on their way. He could plainly hear the hurried dip of oars, and the rattle of the looms in the thole-pins. Beyond a doubt there was a movement of some kind on the part of the mate, and Louis rushed in hot haste to the bank of the creek, for there were signs of treachery on the part of the Maud’s officer in the boat.

“Halloo! Hallo! Mr. Frinks!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, which were not weakened by consumptive tendencies.

“On shore!” replied the mate, as he ceased rowing.

“What are you about, Mr. Frinks?” demanded Louis.

The boat was already too far off for an easy going conversation; but if the mate condescended to explain his movement, it might do something to restore the young man’s confidence.

“I am going to look along the shore towards the town to see if there is another creek you will have to cross, and to ferry you over if I should find one,” answered Frinks, still laying on his oars.

“What is the matter, Louis?” asked Captain Ringgold, hastily returning to the shore, followed by Bickling.

“I don’t know that anything is the matter,” replied Louis. “The mate shoved off in the boat, and says he is going towards the town to see if there is another creek, in order to ferry us across it if there should be one.”

“I don’t quite like the looks of that movement, and I am decidedly in favor of keeping the mate on shore with us. If a boat-keeper is needed, let the cook attend to that duty,” replied the captain; and his tones indicated that he also discovered some signs of treachery.

“All right; order him to bring the boat back to the shore, captain,” answered Louis.

“In the boat!” shouted the shipmaster.

“On shore!” replied Frinks. “What do you want now?”

There was something in the tone of the mate, and in the little word “now” with which he ended his sentence, that indicated a sort of contempt for the one who hailed him.

“Bring the boat to the shore!” added Captain Ringgold, loud enough to be heard half-way across the bay.

“Very well, captain! I will come ashore as soon as I have taken a look across this point of land,” answered Frinks; and Louis thought there was something of the raillery with which he had mixed up his speeches when he explained in what manner he had made the capture of the party in the forenoon; in other words there was something like triumph in his tones.

“Come ashore at once!” cried the captain, fortified in his suspicion that all was not right by the manner of the mate.

“All right! You wait till I come!” was the response of Frinks.

At the same moment the rattle of the oars and the dip of them in the water were heard, and it was evident that the treacherous mate was pulling with all his might away from the spot where he had landed his late companions in the boat.

“Come ashore at once! If you don’t I will fire upon you!” yelled the captain, as he drew one of the large revolvers from his pocket.

“Fire away!” returned Frinks in tones of derision, mingled with a chuckling laugh that fully indicated the treason of the mate.

Captain Ringgold got the direction of the boat as well as he could from the sounds that came from it, and then discharged his revolver, which he had loaded in the steerage when the pair of weapons were given to him.

“Good!” shouted the mate contemptuously.

The shipmaster, using all the care the situation permitted, fired again; but it was very much like shooting at the moon, so far as the chances of hitting were concerned. The darkness was impenetrable, and the shipmaster had nothing to guide his aim but the sounds from the boat.

“Good again!” returned Frinks derisively, and the sound of his voice grew less distinct as he increased his distance from the shore.

“No use to fire at him any more, captain,” replied Louis in a tone of utter despondency, as he realized that the battle, according to present appearances, was utterly lost.

But the captain continued to fire until he had discharged all the barrels in his two pistols. The mate could hear the reports, and he responded to every one of them in tones of the utmost contempt, as though he was enjoying the chagrin of the young millionaire and his stalwart companion. He had certainly won the victory again over the young Parkite, and he appeared from his tones to be enjoying it heartily.

“There is a light off there now, and it must be on board of the Maud,” said the captain, as he peered through the gloom in the direction from which they had come in the boat. “All I have to say, Louis, is that we have been euchred!”

“So it appears,” added the young man bitterly. “And my mother is on board of that craft still, with no one to protect her from the wiles of that villain. I am afraid I have been stupid in trusting to appearances. We had Scoble bound hand and foot, and we brought the mate off with us. I ought not to have believed a word that oily-tongued rascal uttered.”

“It is no use to groan over it, my boy; we must act,” added the shipmaster, evidently ashamed that he had permitted himself to be overreached, but not so utterly cast down as his young companion, as he had less reason to be.

“What can we do?” demanded Louis, suddenly rousing himself from his despondency.

“Oh, I don’t give it up yet, my boy! All we can do is to make our way to the town, procure a tug-boat, and give chase to the schooner. I think we have taken away all the firearms there were on board of her, and with such officers as we can procure in Southfield, where I am somewhat acquainted, we may yet be able to arrest the villain, and save your mother from further persecution. I feel that I am somewhat to blame for the accident which has happened to us, and I pledge you all my time, and all my fortune, which is nothing near as large as yours, to follow this Scoble all over the world if necessary, till we have him behind the iron bars,” continued Captain Ringgold with a heartiness that made Louis his friend for life.

“Whatever fortune I have is nothing compared with the safety and happiness of my mother, and I would spend every dollar of it, if my trustee will allow me to do so, to redeem her from the power and possession of John Scoble,” said Louis earnestly.

His million and a half, as that was the amount of it in round numbers, seemed like a bagatelle to him at the present moment, for he could neither pay it out nor pledge it to procure the return of his mother to her new home at the Park. But the captain did not despair of being able to accomplish something in the pursuit of the villain who had again brought grief and shame to those it had once been his duty to protect.

“It is certainly the time for action, as you say, Captain Ringgold; but what shall we do? What can we do?” he demanded.

“That is the question to be immediately settled,” replied the captain, looking about him as if to obtain further information that would assist him in taking some action. “This creek is too wide to be crossed without a boat; and there seems not to be even a punt about here.”

“What good would it do to cross the creek, if we could do so?” asked Louis.

“Perhaps none. If we could get over to the hill that shelters the vessel from the gale, we should still be too far from the Maud even to shoot those on board of her; and we could not get on board of her without a boat. It is no use to look in that direction,” was the captain’s conclusion. “The only thing we can do is to make our way over to Southfield; and I hope we shall find a tug-boat there, though it is by no means certain. It is plain enough to me now that Frinks knew more about this bay than he pretended, for he made sure to land us this side of the creek so that we could not get near the Maud again. He has managed his case very well.”

“That light was not exhibited on the Maud when we left her,” suggested Louis.

“It was not; but the mate is expected to come back, and the light is hoisted to enable him to make the quickest time on his return. I have no doubt Captain Scoble will put to sea the moment he is on board. I dare say the reefed sails are set, and the anchor hove short by this time.”

“We have seen that the Maud can’t do much in the way of sailing in such a heavy sea, and with the wind nearly ahead of her,” added Louis, taking comfort from the reflection.

“That is very true, my lad; but the ocean is almost boundless, and it is very hard to find a vessel, even a slow sailer, on its vast expanse,” replied the captain. “I was an ensign in the navy during the last part of the Rebellion, and my ship was looking for months for the Alabama; but we did not find her. Scoble may not sail before morning, and we may get a steamer on his track by that time. But we can’t waste any more time in talking about the matter; let us move towards the town.”

Captain Ringgold led the way, and Louis kept at his side. Bickling came up behind them. He had been forgotten in the excitement of the stirring event of the evening; and then, for the first time, the young man recalled the application of the cook to be taken in the boat with him. He called him to his side, for they were walking over a salt marsh which was dry enough at that stage of the tide, and there was room enough for all of them to march abreast.

“Why did you desire to go in the boat with me, Bickling?” asked Louis, in opening his inquiry.

“You have been very kind to me, sir, which I appreciate a good friend, sir, and I wanted to be of some service to you, which I am afraid it is too late now,” replied the cook.

“Then, why didn’t you speak out before?” demanded the young man indignantly.

“Which I couldn’t do it, sir, though I would gladly ’ave done it, sir,” protested the man, who even now seemed to be frightened about something, though he had no reason to fear his present companions.

“Why couldn’t you do it? You had a tongue in your head!” added Louis very warmly, for it was clear to him that the cook knew something about the plot which had just been sprung upon them.

“I ’ave to mind my own business, sir, and I can’t hafford to meddle with hother people’s haffairs, which it is just as plain to you, sir, as it is to me, sir, who am a poor man,” replied Bickling. “I tried to do something for you, sir, but I failed.”

Louis thought that he was perhaps unjust to the poor man, and softened his manner.