[to be continued.]
[RICK DALE.]
BY KIRK MUNROE.
CHAPTER XXI.
A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY.
The revenue-cutter whose appearance caused Alaric and Bonny so much anxiety had, indeed, been absent from Tacoma for two weeks, as the man in the sail-boat told them. On their first night in the Siwash camp she had gone to Port Townsend to turn over the captured smuggler Fancy to the Collector at that place. Knowing how important the testimony of her crew would be during the proceedings against her, the commander of the cutter intended to return to the upper sound and to institute a thorough search for them the very next day. Before he could carry out this plan news was received that an American ship was ashore near Cape Flattery, one hundred miles away in the opposite direction, and the cutter was despatched to her assistance.
Although the task of saving the ship was successfully accomplished, and she was finally pulled off the reef on which she had struck, it was nearly two weeks before the cutter was again at liberty to devote her attention to smugglers, with only a slight hope of finding those whom he so greatly wanted as witnesses; but thinking he might possibly gain some information concerning them from Skookum John, the commander of the cutter headed his vessel up the sound, steamed through Colros passage, and sent his third Lieutenant ashore in the yawl to make inquiries at the Siwash camp.
This officer found only women and children at home, but learned that the owner of the camp had gone to Tacoma. As he was about to depart without having discovered anything concerning those of whom he was in search, curiosity prompted him to glance into a hut that appeared newer and much neater than the others. Here, to his amazement and great satisfaction, the first object that caught his eye was the well-remembered canvas dunnage-bag that he had seen in Victoria, and which still bore the name of "Philip Ryder" on its dingy surface.
"Ho, ho! Master Ryder! So we are on your trail at last, are we?" soliloquized the officer. "This is a clew of which we must not lose sight, and so I guess I'll just take it along and hold on to it until we can return it to you in person."
Thus it happened that Alaric's bag was carried aboard the cutter, where its contents excited a great deal of curiosity, and that vessel was headed toward Tacoma in the hope of finding the lads, who were supposed to be with Skookum John.
The big canoe was discovered when in the very act of going about and standing back toward the city, as though to escape from the approaching cutter, and a full head of steam was instantly crowded on in pursuit. Great was the disappointment when, on overtaking her, she was found to contain only Indians. These, however, eagerly directed attention to a smaller canoe ahead, in which could be distinguished two figures, apparently those of white men, and the cutter renewed her chase.
Before she could overtake this second craft it was lost to sight behind a wharf, and a Lieutenant was hastily sent ashore in a boat to trace its occupants.
He found the empty canoe in charge of a yacht sailor, who said that those who had come in her were somewhere up on the wharf, and without waiting for further particulars the officer followed after them. When he reached the group of spectators assembled to witness the departure of the great steamer that was just moving out, he asked one of them if he had seen two persons running that way within a minute. One of them, whom he mentioned as being the younger, he described as being a tall, gentlemanly appearing and neatly dressed lad, while the other was a sailor.
Now the gentleman of whom he made inquiries answered that he had seen a number of persons running just as the ship's moorings were cast off. "There were a couple of young chaps," he said, "very ragged and dirty-looking, who ran aboard the last thing, as if afraid of being left. Then there was another couple who seemed in a great hurry, and ran shouting after a carriage that was just starting up town. They stopped it, got in, and drove off. One of them was, as you say, a very gentlemanly appearing lad, and the other was so evidently a sailor that I expect they're the two you are looking for."
"I shouldn't wonder if they were," replied the officer, delighted at having thus quickly discovered the trail. "Did you happen to hear them give the driver any directions?"
"Yes. The young chap said, 'Hotel Tacoma.'"
Thanking the gentleman for his information, the Lieutenant hurried away, boarded an up-town trolley-car, and a few minutes later stood in the office of the great hotel scanning its register. A single glance was sufficient, for the last two names on the page, so recently entered that the ink was hardly dry, assured him that his search was successful. They were both in the same handwriting, and read: Philip Ryder, Alaska. Jalap Coombs. Alaska. "Pretty smart dodge," chuckled the Lieutenant, as he walked away, "to hail from such an indefinite place as Alaska. This Philip Ryder is certainly a sharp chap. It is plain enough now that he left that bag in the Siwash camp as a blind to throw us off the track."
The Lieutenant then hurried back toward the cutter, to make report of what he had discovered to his superior officer. After listening to all he had to say, that gentleman decided to continue the investigation himself; and an hour later he, with his third Lieutenant, both out of uniform, appeared at the hotel, with a sailor bearing a canvas bag.
Going into one of the small writing-rooms, which happened to be unoccupied, the Commander wrote a name on a plain card and sent it up to Mr. Philip Ryder, with a request that the gentleman would consent to see him on a matter of business. Then, with the canvas bag on the floor beside him, he waited alone.
Inside of three minutes a bell-boy ushered into the room a well-dressed, squarely built youth, with a resolute face and blue eyes that looked straight into the Commander's.
"Mr. Ellery, I believe," he said, glancing at the card still held in his hand.
The Commander bowed slightly, and then asked, "Is your name Philip Ryder?"
"It is."
"Is this your property?" Here the Commander indicated the canvas bag.
The youth stepped forward to get a better view of the article, in question, started as though surprised, and then answered, "Yes, sir, I believe it is; but I must confess to great curiosity as to how it came here."
"Why so?"
"Because when I last heard of it it was on board a vessel that had just been seized by a revenue-cutter."
"Exactly; and that vessel was seized for smuggling by a cutter under my command."
"Pardon me, sir, but I think you are mistaken," objected Phil, "for I am intimately acquainted with the Commander of the cutter in question, while you are a stranger to me."
"I beg leave to say that I think I know what I am talking about," retorted the other, stiffly, "and I may as well inform you at once that I not only was, but am still, in command of the cutter that seized your smuggling craft some two weeks ago. I am here for the purpose of causing the arrest and detention of yourself and the mate of that vessel, both of whom will be wanted as witnesses for the government during the forth-coming proceedings to be instituted against Captain Duff."
"And I, sir," replied Phil, hotly, "beg leave to say that you don't know any more of what you are talking about than I do. Although I have sailed with Captain Duff and know him well, I am not a smuggler, and never have been. Moreover, I can summon witnesses this very minute who will identify me and certify to my character."
With this Phil stepped to the bell. "Go to number 20," said the youth to the bell-boy, "and ask the gentleman who is there to kindly step down here for a minute."
"And you, boy," thundered the Commander, his face flushed with anger, "find the gentleman who came here with me, and inform him that I desire his presence."
The Lieutenant was the first to arrive.
"Is this your Philip Ryder?" demanded the Commander, at the same time pointing to the youth opposite.
"No, sir, he is not," replied the Lieutenant, promptly.
"Who is he, then?" asked the other.
"Begging the gentleman's pardon, this is Mr. Philip Ryder, as I can swear," interrupted a fourth individual, who had just entered.
"Hello, Carncross! You here? And you know this young man?"
"Certainly I do, sir. I met his father, Mr. John Ryder—the famous mining expert, you know—at my father's house in San Francisco last winter, and came to call on him here as soon as I heard of his arrival in Tacoma. He and his son arrived on to-day's steamer from Alaska. He is also a friend of your friend Captain Matthews."
"What! Not Israel Matthews of the Phoca? You don't say so! Mr. Ryder, allow me to shake hands with you, and to offer my humble apologies for this absurd mistake."
At the end of an hour the revenue-officers were as puzzled as ever over the disappearance of the present owner of the famous Philip Ryder bag, and his companion; but suddenly Carncross exclaimed:
"I think I know what became of them! I remember now seeing the two chaps who came in that canoe run down the wharf and board the Alaska steamer just as she was starting for Seattle, and I'll warrant you that's where they are at this minute. Tough-looking fellows they were, too."
"In that case," said the Commander, rising, "I must be getting under way for Seattle as quickly as possible. I only wish that I might have you both down to dine with me this evening; but business before pleasure, and so I will wish you both a very good-night."
CHAPTER XXII.
TWO SHORT BUT EXCITING VOYAGES.
"I tell you, Rick Dale, that was a close shave," said Bonny, as the steamer moved away from the Tacoma wharf.
"Wasn't it, though! But it seems to me, Bonny, that smuggling must be one of the worst crimes a person can commit, judging from the anxiety those fellows show to capture us. I knew it was bad, but I hadn't any idea it was so serious."
"It does look as if we were wanted," admitted Bonny; "but we've thrown 'em off the track this time, so they won't bother us any more. Didn't we do it neatly?"
"Yes, we certainly did. But where do you suppose we are going now?"
"Haven't the least idea, and don't care. Maybe to China, maybe to San Francisco, and maybe to Alaska. Yes, I think this must be an Alaska ship, for I remember now seeing a big Eskimo dog taken ashore just as we came aboard, and Alaska is where they come from. If she is bound for Alaska, though, she'll stop at Port Townsend and Victoria on the way, and we must lie low until after we pass the first. It would never do to be put off there, for that's headquarters for the whole revenue business, and they'd scoop us in quick enough. I wouldn't mind Victoria so very much, though."
"I should," objected Alaric, who feared that the Sountaggs might have telegraphed from Japan to have him apprehended and forwarded to them. "I don't like Victoria, and neither do I want to go to any of the places you have mentioned."
"Very well," laughed Bonny, who, with a sense of freedom, had regained all his light-heartedness. "Just send word to the Captain where you want to go, and he'll probably be pleased to take you there."
For an hour or so longer the boys discussed their plans and prospects. Then, as it was growing dark and they were becoming very hungry, Bonny proposed to skirmish around and see what the chances were for obtaining something to eat. Bidding Alaric remain in hiding until his return, the young sailor sallied forth. In a moment he reappeared with the news that the ship was putting in at Seattle and was already close to the wharf.
"That's good," said Alaric. "Seattle is much better for us than Fort Townsend, or Victoria, San Francisco, China, or even Alaska. So I move we go ashore and try our luck."
This was what they were obliged to do, whether or no, for the ship was hardly moored before they were discovered by one of the mates, who chased them ashore.
"Whew-w!" gasped Alaric, after they had run to a safe distance. "It seems to me that working your way through the world consists mainly in being chased by people who are bigger and stronger than you are."
"Yes," remarked Bonny, philosophically. "I've noticed that. It's the same way with sparrows and dogs too; the strong ones are always picking or growling at those that are weaker. Being chased, though, is better than being caught, and we haven't been that yet. Now let's go up town and see about a hotel."
This mention of a hotel reminded Alaric of his previous visit to Seattle and the great "Rainier" away up on the hill-side in which he had spent the day. But Rainier dinners were not for poor boys, and with a regretful sigh he followed his comrade in another direction.
It is hard to say how our lads expected to obtain the meal for which they longed; but whatever hopes they had were doomed to disappointment, for after wandering about the streets a couple of hours their hunger was as unsatisfied as ever. Finally Bonny asked a policeman if there was not some place in that great city where a boy without one cent in his pocket could get something to eat.
"There's a free-soup kitchen on Jessler Avenue," answered the man, "but it's closed for the night now, and you can't get anything there before seven o'clock to-morrow morning. But what do strong young fellows like you want of soup-kitchens? Why ain't ye at work, earning an honest living? Tramps is no good, anyway, and if you don't chase yourselves out of this I'll run you in. See?"
Seven o'clock to-morrow morning! How could they wait? and yet there seemed nothing else to be done. Slowly and despondently the lads made their way back to the wharf on which they had landed, for even that seemed a better place in which to pass the long night hours than the unfriendly streets.
They eluded the vigilance of a night-watchman, and gained the shelter of a pile of hay bales, on which they stretched themselves wearily.
"I'd almost rather be in China, or even a well-fed smuggler," announced Alaric.
"Wouldn't I?" responded Bonny; "and won't I if ever I get another chance? I don't believe anything would seem wrong to a fellow as hungry as I am, if it only brought him something to eat. Even chewing hay is some comfort."
At length they fell into an uneasy sleep, from which they were awakened a few hours later by the sound of voices close at hand. In one of these they instantly, and with sinking hearts, recognized that of their relentless pursuer, the revenue-cutter's third Lieutenant. The other person was evidently answering a question, for he was saying:
"Yes, sir, I seen a couple of young rascals such as you describe chased off the Alaska boat by the mate. They started up town, but I make no doubt they'll be back here again. Such as them is always hanging around the docks."
"If they do come around, and you can catch them, just hold on to them, for they are wanted by the government, and there is a reward offered for them," said the officer.
"Ay, ay, sir; I'll nab 'em for ye if they comes this way again," was the answer, and then both speakers moved out of hearing toward the upper end of the wharf.
The poor, hunted lads, trembling at the narrowness of their escape, peered after the retreating forms. Then Bonny's attention was attracted to the lights of a white side-wheel steamer lying at the outer end of the wharf that seemed on the point of departure.
"Look here, Rick," he whispered, "this place is growing too hot for us, and we've got to get out of it. There's the City of Kingston, and she is going to Victoria or Tacoma, I don't know which. Either of them would be better for us than Seattle just now, though, because in Victoria the revenue folks couldn't touch us, and in Tacoma they won't be looking for us. What do you say, shall we try for a passage on her?"
"Yes," replied Alaric. "I suppose so, for it is certain that we must get away from here somehow. I hope she won't take us to Victoria, though."
So the young fugitives stole down the wharf in darkest shadows to where a force of men were busily at work by lantern-light, trucking freight up a broad gang-plank from the steamer's lower deck, and at the same time carrying aboard the small quantity that was to go somewhere else. Among this was a lot of household goods.
"Now," whispered Bonny, "we've got to be quick, for there isn't much more to be done. I'll run aboard with one of these trucks, while you grab a chair or something from that pile of stuff and follow after. Each of us must hide on his own hook in the first place he comes to, and if we don't find a chance to get together on the trip, we'll meet on the wharf at the first place she stops. Sabe?"
"Yes. Go ahead."
BONNY SEIZED A TRUCK, AND ALARIC A MATTRESS.
So Bonny boldly picked up one of several idle trucks that lay near by, and rattled it down the gang-plank with every appearance of bustling activity. As he trundled it aft along the dimly lighted deck he was greeted by a gruff voice from the darkness with:
"Get that truck out of here. Didn't you hear me say I didn't need any more of 'em?"
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the pretended stevedore, facing promptly about and wheeling his truck away. In a place where there seemed to be no one looking he set it gently down, and walked forward as boldly as though executing some order just received. Away up in the bows of the steamer he found a great coil of rope, in which he snuggled down like a bird in a nest.
Alaric was not quite so fortunate. He watched Bonny disappear with his truck in the dark interior of the boat, and then, taking a mattress from the pile of household goods, marched aboard with it in his arms. Walking aft with his awkward burden, he stumbled across the truck that Bonny had left in the passage and sprawled at full length. As luck would have it, the mattress, loosed from his grasp, struck the mate who was coming that way and nearly knocked him down.
Springing furiously forward, the man aimed a kick at the prostrate lad, called him a clumsy lunkhead, and ordered him to wheel the truck up on to the wharf.
There was nothing for it but to return to the wharf with the truck. Then, to his dismay, Alaric found that there was no freight left to be taken on board. The pile of household goods had disappeared. As he stood for a moment irresolute another gruff voice sang out to him to cast off the breast line and get aboard in a hurry if he didn't want to get left.
Alaric had no more idea than the man in the moon of what a breast line was; but he knew what to cast off a line meant, and, making a blind guess, fortunately did the right thing. By this time the gang-plank was hauled in, and obeying the order "Jump! you chuckle-head!" the lad took a flying leap that landed him on all fours on the deck. As he regained his feet the lad was ordered aft, but he managed to slip away before reaching the stern, and hid among the very household goods he had helped bring aboard.
Here, after lying for a while pondering over the strange fortunes by which every step of his path into the world of active life seemed to be beset, he fell asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight, and he was being greeted by an angry roar from the gruff voice of the night before.
"Shirking, are ye, you lazy young hound? I'll teach ye!"
Picking up a bit of rope and whirling it about his head, the mate sprang toward the lad, who darted away in terror; nor did he stop until he found himself clear of the boat and running up a long wharf.