He put one leg over the rail, paused an instant to make sure that the movement had not attracted attention, then threw the other over, and lowered himself slowly toward the wharf. His feet had almost touched it, and Guy was already congratulating himself on his escape, when a stick of stove-wood, propelled with all the force of a sinewy arm, whistled through the air, and striking the rail within an inch of his head, bounded off, and fell into the water. Had it struck him, as the mate fully intended it should when he sent it flying from his hand, it would have knocked him senseless.
While Guy was looking all around to see where the missile came from, the officer arose from his concealment and showed himself.
“That was a pretty good shot,” said he, “but the next one will come closer than that. Crawl back, you lubber. Now,” he added, as the boy tremblingly obeyed, “go below, and stay there till I call you.”
As Guy started off in obedience to the order, the mate hastened his movements by aiming a blow at him with his fist, and following it up by a vicious kick with his heavy boot; but the boy, having learned to be always on the lookout for these favors, nimbly eluded them both.
“I wish I were a man for a few minutes,” thought Guy, as he ran down the ladder into the forecastle and began pulling off his extra clothing; “I’d settle with you, Mr. Schwartz, and pay you back in your own coin. I’ve failed once, but I’ll not fail the next time I try it. I’ll have more time at San Francisco, for Flint says we’re going to discharge our cargo there. Perhaps it is just as well, after all,” he added, determined, to look on the bright side, if there was any, “because when I reach San Francisco I shall be but a short distance from the Rocky Mountains, and can begin the life of a hunter as soon as I please. Don’t I wish I was there now with a good horse and gun, and such a dog as the boy trappers had? Never mind, I’ll have them one of these days, if I only live to get off this vessel.”
About the time Guy was ordered below by the second mate, the captain returned, accompanied by three or four policemen. Guy heard them open the hatch and go into the hold, and remembering that the robbers had promised to make a desperate resistance, he listened to their movements with no little anxiety, momentarily expecting to hear the sounds of a fierce struggle going on among the freight, but nothing of the kind happened.
The sight of the locusts and badges borne by the officers of the law took all the courage out of the burglars, who quietly passed up their weapons and allowed handcuffs to be slipped on their wrists. The box was then hoisted off the other burglar, and he was placed upon a stretcher and carried ashore. It was all done in five minutes, and when Guy was ordered on deck to assist in getting the vessel under way—or rather to stand by and look on while the others did it—the policemen and their prisoners had disappeared in the darkness.
This was the last incident worthy of record that happened while Guy remained on board the Santa Maria. Nothing occurred to break the monotony of the voyage, which continued two hundred and ten days, and which our runaway afterward looked back upon as the dreariest part of his existence.
With the robbers disappeared all traces of that “other crew” of which the sailors stood so much in fear. The most superstitious among them kept a close watch for a few nights, starting at every unusual sound; and when the wind freshened during the mid-watch, casting anxious glances toward the main-topsail yard, where the ghost who shouted “Stand from under!” was accustomed to station himself. But nothing startling was ever seen or heard, and the men finally ceased to speak or think of the matter.
Flint came in for some slight punishment for assisting Guy in his attempt to desert the vessel, and Upham and his crony were hazed for a day or two for keeping the ship waiting in port for a crew; but the mate’s ill-will seemed to wear itself out at last, and then things went on smoothly with everybody except the runaway.