Rodman The Boatsteerer And Other Stories by George Lewis Becke (best fiction novels to read TXT) 📖

of the girl.

"'Taint nothing, Em, on'y the surf a poundin' on the reef."

"P'raps they're all a comin' in the boat. Dad, there's a lot o' man-o'-war men comin' for Jim. I was bathin', and I heerd 'em talkin'. They'll kill him, dad, if they gets him. Niban, that native that Jim gave a beatin' to onst, was showin' 'em the way here--an' I runned and runned----"

A half-stifled shriek escaped her as she sprang to her feet.

There was a sudden rush of booted feet and the clank of steel. Then a voice rang out--

"Keep your men close up to the back of the house, Adams."

Forcing his trembling daughter down upon her seat, the trader, placing his pipe in his mouth, lit it, and advanced to the open door, to meet, face to face, an officer in the uniform of the American navy.

"Stand back, sir!" and the officer pointed a pistol at the trader's breast; but as the light of the lamp fell upon the old man's wrinkled features and snow-white hair, he lowered his weapon to his side.

"What might your business be, sir, and why are you and your men a-comin' inter my house at night time, an' pointin' a pistol at me?"

Then, still eyeing the officer, he stepped backward, and placed his arm protectingly around his daughter's shoulder.

"Stay outside till I call you, Williams," said the officer, turning to a leading seaman, who, with drawn cutlass, had followed him inside.

Then he came into the room.

"Who else have you here with you?" he began, when he stopped suddenly in his speech, and raised his cap. "This girl is your daughter, I suppose?"

"My daughter, sir. But what is your business, I ask again? What may you want here, anyway?"

The angry light in the old man's eyes, and the sharp tone of his voice, called the officer to his duty.

"I am sorry to be here, Mr. Swain; but be good enough to ask your daughter to leave us alone for a minute or two. My business is such that I can tell it better to you alone."

At a sign from her father the girl rose from her seat and reluctantly walked into her room. The officer watched her retreating figure disappear, then he turned sharply round on his heel.

"I am a lieutenant on the United States ship _Adirondack_ and my business is to arrest a man named James Swain, a deserter from the _Saginaw_ and a murderer as well."

Even in the dim light of the rude lamp the officer saw the rugged bronze of the old trader's face pale to a deathly whiteness, and he leant one hand upon the table to steady himself.

"That's a kinder surprise to me, sir. An' I doesn't believe it, nohow. A deserter my boy Jim might be; but I won't allow he's murdered any one. Maybe you mean he killed a man in a fair fight?"

"I cannot talk this over with you, old man. My orders are to arrest James Swain. He is here, I know; and although it is a painful duty for me to fulfil, you must stand aside and let that duty be done."

"You can look for him, sir; but I can tell you that you won't diskiver him here."

"We shall see about that." And the officer, walking to the door, called out, "Come in, Williams, and search the place. Use no violence, but if the man we want, or any other person in the house, resists, make short work of it."

With a dozen men at his heels, Williams entered the house, and the officer, taking his stand at the back door, leant against it, pistol in hand.

There were but three rooms in the trader's house--the sitting-room, which was also used as a sleeping room by the old man and his son; the trade room, or store; and Ema Swain's bedroom. The first two were at once entered and searched, and in a few minutes Williams, the boatswain's mate, reported that the man they sought for was not there.

"There is but one more room, sir," said old Swain, quietly, from his seat at the table. "Ema, come out, and let these men look in your room." And he glanced defiantly at the officer.

Calmly and quietly she walked into the front room, and, sitting down beside her father, looked on. But although she was outwardly so calm, the girl's heart was beating nigh to bursting, for she had overheard Williams tell one of the bluejackets that some of Adams' men had, long before the main body approached, formed a complete line of guards on both sides of the house, extending from the inner lagoon beach right across the island, which, at this place, was not a quarter of a mile in width. And the girl knew that at the unguarded open ends on either side there was no chance of concealment, for there the coast rose steep-to from the sea, and was bare of verdure.

Presently the boatswain, with two or three bluejackets, re-entered the room.

"There's no place in the girl's room, sir, where a man could hide. He must have cleared out, sir, long before we reached her. I guess that that noise we heard crossing the channel was made by him. I think he's just doubled on us and made down for the south end of the island."

Pressing her father's hand warningly, the girl fixed her dark, dreamy eyes on the officer and spoke.

"Yes, that true. My brother he ran away long time before boat come up. Some one been tell him that 'Merican man-o'-war anchor down at south end. So he run away."

The officer, with an exclamation of disgust, put his pistol back in his belt.

"That lying scoundrel of a native has just fooled us nicely, Williams. Sound a call for Adams and his men to come back, and let us get back to the cutter. We'll have to begin the search again to-morrow."

The boatswain's mate had just stepped outside and placed his whistle to his lips, when the thundering report of a heavy musket-shot echoed through the air. Then silence for a few seconds, followed by the sharper sounds of the rifles of the American bluejackets.

Before any one could stay her Ema Swain darted through the guard of blue-jackets at the door, and disappeared in the direction of the sound of firing; and almost immediately afterwards the officer and his party followed.

But ere Lieutenant Fenton and his men had advanced more than a hundred yards or so into the gloomy shadows of the palm-grove, he called a halt, as the sound of voices came through the gloom.

"Is that you, Adams?" he called.

"Yes, sir," answered a voice from a little distance; "we've got him; he ran right into us; but before we could catch him he shot the native guide through the body."

In a few minutes Adams's party joined that of the officer, and then in silence, with their prisoner in their midst, they marched back to the trader's house.

"Bring the prisoner inside, Adams," said Lieutenant Fenton, briefly.

With hands handcuffed behind his back and a seaman on each side, Jim Swain was marched inside his father's house. A bullet had ploughed through his left cheek, and he was bleeding profusely.

"Stand aside, old man," and the officer held up a warning hand to old Jack. "It is folly for you to attempt to interfere."

And then a blue-jacket, almost as old as the trader himself, placed himself between father and son.

Taking a paper from his pocket the officer read it to himself, glancing every now and then at the prisoner.

"He's the man, sure enough," he muttered. "Poor devil!" Then turning to the man Adams, he asked--"Are you absolutely certain that this is the man, Adams?"

"Certain, sir. That is the man who murdered the boatswain of the _Saginaw_. I took particular notice of him when I served in her, because of his colour and size, and his sulky temper."

"Jim," broke in the old man's voice, quaveringly, "you haven't murdered any one, hev' you?"

The half-caste raised his dark, lowering face and looked at his father, and for a moment or so he breathed heavily.

"Yes, dad. I killed th' man. We had a muss in Valparaiso, an' I knifed him."

Old Swain covered his face with his hands and sank into a seat, and then Lieutenant Fenton walked over to him and placed a kindly hand on his shoulder. Then he withdrew it quickly.

"I have a hard duty, Swain, and the sooner it is over the better. I am ordered to arrest your son, James Swain, for the crime of murder and for deserting from his ship. He will be taken to San Francisco. Whatever you wish to say to him, do so now. In another ten minutes we must be on our way to the ship, and there will be no further opportunity for you to see him."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the old man, huskily, and rising he walked slowly over to his manacled son, and put his trembling hand on his arm.

"You will excuse me, sir, if I talk to him in the native lingo."

Fenton nodded, motioned to the seamen who stood beside the prisoner to move away, and then walked to the further end of the room.

"Jim," said the old trader, quickly, speaking in the native language, "what's to be done? I have only got to send a native along the beach with the shell{*} and we shall have you away from these people in no time."


* The conch shell.


"No, no, father, even if every one of them was killed it would do no good. An' they would never let me be taken away from them alive. It is no use, father, to try that. But"--and here he bent his head forward--"if I could free my hands I would make a dash--and be shot. I swear I shall never be hanged. Father, where is Em? I would like to see her before I go."

"She runned away, boy," said the old man, brokenly, and speaking in English; "runned away, jes' as soon as she heerd the firin'. She went to look for you, Jim. Heaven help the gal, Jim, when she comes back an' finds you gone."

For a little while longer they talked, and then Lieutenant Fenton came toward them, and Adams, at a sign from his superior, took the old trader by the arm, and with rough kindness forced him away from his son.

Suddenly, however, he dashed the seaman aside and sprang toward his son, but, strong and active as he was, he was no match for a man like Adams, who threw his arms around him and held him in a vice-like grip.

"That will do, mister," said old Jack, quietly. "I reckon I give in. Th' boy has got to go--an' thet's all about it, an' I ain't agoin' to try an' stop you from takin' him."

And then as the blue-jackets closed around him, Jim Swain turned.

"Goodbye, dad, and say goodbye to Em for me."

"Poor old man!" said Fenton to himself, as the party marched along the narrow, sandy track. "Hang me, if I wouldn't be pleased to see the fellow escape."

*****


The four men who were left in charge of the boat had sprung to their arms the moment they heard