The Last Cruise of the Spitfire: or, Luke Foster's Strange Voyage

I was loath to believe that such was the case. My cousin a thief! It could not be possible; and yet if he had not taken the money, who had?

"Do you hear me?" demanded Mr. Stillwell again.

"I hear you," I replied, as calmly as I could, though I was nearly as excited as he was.

"What did you do with the money?"

"I don't know anything about the money."

My uncle made a threatening gesture.

"It's the truth, whether you believe it or not," I went on. "I did not know you had the money, and I haven't been near the safe."

"Luke Foster, do you realize that you are staring the State prison in the face?"

"I can't help that. I know nothing of your money, and that's all there is to it."

"When did you open the office this morning?"

"Quarter to seven."

"Did you clean up at once?"

"Yes, sir."

"When you cleaned up was the safe door open?"

"No, sir. It might have been unlocked, but it wasn't open."

"How long did it take you to clean up?"

"About half an hour."

"What did you do then?"

"I went to Mr. Mason's office to return a book he had loaned me."

"And then?"

"When I came back I met you," I replied promptly.

"And you mean to say the safe was robbed in the meantime. Luke, you cannot make me believe that."

"I don't know when the safe was robbed. I told you what I did, that was all."

"I don't believe a word of your story! You have robbed the safe, and you have the money."

"If you think so you can search me," I replied promptly.

But even as I spoke I thought of the strange letter I had received. What would my uncle say if he saw it? It seemed to me I was getting into hot water in more ways than one.

"I shall search you, never fear," said Mr. Stillwell. "But you had better confess. It may go easier with you if you do."

"I can't confess to something I'm not guilty of," I returned. And then, as I thought of how I had been treated, I cried out:

"You had better look nearer home for the guilty party, Uncle Felix."

My reply seemed to anger him beyond all endurance.

"Don't you dare to insinuate my son is a thief!" he cried. "You low-bred upstart! I have half a mind to hand you over to the police at once!"

And with his face full of passion Uncle Felix bore down upon me, as if ready to crush me beneath the iron heel of his wrath once and forever.

CHAPTER IV

AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL

Mr. Stillwell's anger had reached a white heat, and as he strode towards me, I was half inclined to think he intended to take my very life. He was naturally a passionate man, and the insinuation I had made concerning his son maddened him beyond all endurance.

I could readily understand why this was so. My Uncle Felix almost worshiped his son, and to have any one insinuate that that son was a thief cut him to the heart. I believe he would rather have lost the six thousand dollars, greatly as he might have felt the loss, than to have imagined that Gus was the guilty party.

"My son a thief!" he repeated hotly. "How dare you?"

"Gus was the only one in the office besides myself," I replied.

"And that is the reason you lay the crime at his door? I don't believe a word you say."

I did not expect that he would. Gus was a favored son, while I was but an orphan with no one to stand up for me.

"Are you going to tell me what you have done with the money and the papers?" he demanded.

"How can I when I don't know anything of them?"

"You do know."

"I don't."

I hardly had the words out when my uncle grasped me roughly by the coat collar.

"I'll teach you a lesson, you young rascal!"

"Let go of me, Uncle Felix!" I cried. "Let go, or I'll – I'll – "

"What will you do?" he sneered.

"Never mind; only you may be sorry if you don't."

His only reply was to tighten his hand upon my collar in such a way that I was in immediate danger of being strangled.

"I'll choke you to death, if you don't tell!" he cried. "Speak up instantly."

"I don't know."

His hand tightened.

"Will you tell?"

I did not reply. I saw that he meant what he said, and I was busy trying to think how to defend myself.

When Mr. Stillwell had caught me I had backed up against the desk. Near me lay a heavy ruler, used by Mr. Grinder in preparing designs for patents. I picked up the ruler, and before my assailant was aware struck him a violent blow upon the wrist.

The brass edge of the weapon I had used made a slight cut upon my uncle's arm, and with a cry more of alarm than pain he dropped his hold of me and turned his attention to the injury.

Seeing this I quickly placed a large office chair near the door, and got behind it, in such a manner that I could escape at an instant's warning.

"You young villain! Do you mean to add murder to your other crimes?" he howled, as he proceeded to bind his handkerchief around his wrist.

"I mean to fight my own battles," I replied. "I won't let you or any other man choke me to death."

"You shall suffer for all you have done!"

"I'm willing to take the consequences," I replied, as coolly as I could.

He continued to glare at me, but for a moment made no movement, probably because he knew not what to do next. I watched him very much as a mouse may watch a cat.

"Come, Luke, you can't keep this up any longer. Hand over that money and the papers."

"Let me tell you for the last time, Mr. Stillwell, that I know nothing of either," said I. "If any one has them that person is your son."

"Don't tell me such a yarn!"

"I believe it's the truth. If not, why did Gus steal into the office and out again in such a hurry this morning?"

"I don't believe he was here. I left him in his room at home."

"Are you sure he was in his room?"

"Yes, for I called him, and he answered back."

"Nevertheless he was here, and maybe I can prove it."

My uncle bit his lip. He did not relish my last remark.

"And even if he was here he did not know the combination of the safe."

"Neither did I."

"But you could have found it out. You had plenty of chances."

"No more chances than Gus had."

"Pooh! Don't tell me that!"

"It's the truth."

"My son is not on a level with you."

"I always considered myself as good as he is," I returned warmly.

"My son is not a thief."

"Neither am I, Uncle Felix; and what is more, I won't let you or any other man say so," I declared.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked curiously.

"I won't stand it, that's all."

"Do you know that I intend to have you arrested if you don't return what you have stolen?"

"If you have me arrested I will do all I can to defend myself," was my answer. "If I am brought before the judge perhaps I will have one or two things to say that you will not relish."

"What do you mean?"

"There will be time enough to speak when I am brought into court."

"You think you are smart, Luke, but you are nothing but a fool. What can you say against me?"

"A good many things that you don't dream of. You are not treating me rightly, and you know it. You don't give me decent clothing to wear, and I have to work harder than any one in the office. I am sure my father never intended such a future for his son."

"I don't care what you father intended!" he snarled.

"But I do, and what is more, I intend, sooner or later, to try to have matters mended. My father always told me he wished me to keep on going to school and then to enter Princeton."

"Never mind, I am your guardian now, and I know what is best for you."

"How much money did my father leave me?" I asked, with considerable curiosity.

"None of your business."

"Oh, but it is my business."

"It is not your business, and I want you to shut up!" he cried, in a rage. "He left little enough."

"Little enough," I cried. "My father was rich."

"He was at one time; but he lost the most of his fortune in stocks just before he died. You have hardly enough to keep you until you are twenty-one."

I must confess that my uncle's remarks were quite a shock to me. I had always supposed that I would some day be wealthy. I gave the matter a moment's thought, and then came to the conclusion that Mr. Stillwell was not telling the truth.

"How much money did my father leave?" I repeated. "I am entitled to know."

"You will know when I get ready to tell you, not before."

"Perhaps you are mistaken," said I. "And another thing, Uncle Felix, how is it that you were appointed my guardian?"

At these words I fancied my uncle turned pale. He sprang towards me, then stopped short.

"What do you mean by that question?" he demanded.

"I mean why were you made my guardian when my father and you were not on good terms?"

"Pooh, that quarrel was of no consequence," was the lofty reply. "Your father could not find a better person in which to trust his son's care."

I had my own opinion on that point, but did not find it fit to say so. Then I put in what I thought was a master stroke.

"I thought Mr. Banker was to be my guardian."

At these words Mr. Stillwell turned even paler than before, and his hand trembled as he pointed his long finger at me in a threatening manner.

"You think too much!" he growled.

"Are you going to answer that question?"

"What put it into your head?"

"Never mind."

"Has John Banker been writing to you about it?"

In spite of his effort to ask the question unconcernedly I could see that my uncle was tremendously interested. Like a flash it came over me that perhaps this was one of the reasons he did not wish me to spend any time at Harry Banker's home. Mr. Banker might take it into his head to ask me how I was being treated, and that might lead to trouble.

"Never mind; but I'm going to find out before long."

"And you are going to prison before long, unless you hand over what you took from the safe."

"I am not afraid of you, Mr. Stillwell. I have always done right. But I'm going to know something about myself, and soon. I have a letter in my pocket that tells me that Mr. Banker was to be my guardian, and I'm going to know why he is not."

Mr. Stillwell glared at me. If he could have eaten me up I believe he would have done so.

"You have a letter?" he cried hoarsely. "Who from?"

"That is my business."

"And I'll make it mine. Hand it over this instant!"

"Not much."

"I say you will."

"And I say no."

I was sorry I had spoken of the letter. I could readily see that it had worked Mr. Stillwell up to a fever heat.

"Give me that letter, Luke. I'll stand no more fooling."

Once more my uncle bore down upon me. But I saw him coming, and shoved the chair in his way.

I still held the ruler in my hand, and now brandished it over my head.

"Don't come any closer!" I cried. "If you do I'll crack you on the head!"

My uncle was too enraged to pay attention to my words. He hurled the chair aside and sprang upon me as a wild beast springs upon its prey.

"We'll see who is master!" he panted.

In another instant he had me by the throat. His grasp was that of a band of steel, and I thought for a surety my last hour had come.

"Let – let go!" I gasped.

"Will you give me the letter?"

My only reply was to struggle with all my strength. In a moment we were both on the floor.

"Help! Help!" I cried.

"Shut up!" he exclaimed, and tried to close my mouth with his hand.

"I won't shut up! Let me up! Help!"

But now my voice was fainter. It was all I could do to get my breath. The room swam round and round before my eyes.

"Give up that letter and the money and papers you took!"

"Help! Help! – "

I could cry no longer. My senses were fast leaving me. Would no one come to my assistance?

"We'll see who is master! If you don't give – "

My uncle did not finish his speech, for at that instant the door was flung open, and a tall, powerful man stood in the doorway.

"Here! let up there!" he commanded. "What are you doing, Stillwell? Who's that on the floor? Great buckwheat, if it ain't Luke Foster!"

I listened in amazement as well as delight. The newcomer was Mr. John Banker!

CHAPTER V

AN APPALLING PROSPECT

Never was an arrival more opportune than when Mr. John Banker stepped into the private office. I fully believe had he come a moment later he would have found me insensible. As it was it took me several seconds to recover my breath.

"John Banker!" ejaculated my uncle, and every line of his features told of his discomfiture.

"What are you doing with Luke?" went on Harry's father. "Let him up."

"None of your business!" growled my uncle.

"I think it is. Luke, get up."

By this time I had somewhat recovered, and I was not slow to obey the command. I arose to my feet, and took my place beside my newly-arrived friend.

"What's it all about?" went on Mr. Banker, turning to me.

"He says I robbed the safe of six thousand dollars," I replied.

"And so he did," put in my uncle, glad to be able to speak a word for himself.

"Six thousand dollars!" ejaculated Mr. Banker. "Phew! but that's a large sum!"

"I know nothing of the money," I went on. "But I think his son took it, and I just told him so, and that made him mad."

"My son is no thief," stormed Mr. Stillwell.

"And neither is Robert Foster's son, I reckon," returned my friend. "I've knowed Luke all my life, and he's as straightforward a lad as one wants to meet. There's some mistake, Mr. Stillwell."

"No mistake at all; and unless the boy gives up what he took he shall go to prison."

"No, no; don't be too harsh!" cried Mr. Banker. "Remember he is your nephew."

"He is no longer any relation of mine! I've cast him off."

"You have, have you?" asked my friend, curiously.

"Yes, I have."

"Maybe you haven't any right to do it," went on Mr. Banker. "You've got his money in trust."

"Precious little of it."

"Yes? I reckon Robert Foster left quite a pile."

"No such thing."

"He was worth fifty or sixty thousand dollars."

"Fifty or sixty thousand dollars!" howled Mr. Stillwell. "It isn't quarter of that sum. He left five thousand dollars, and that's all."

"Nonsense, Stillwell, he left more."

"Who knows best, you or I?"

"Never mind; you can't make me believe Luke's father wasn't better off than that."

My uncle pursed up his lips.

"But that isn't here nor there," he said. "Luke has taken the money, and he's got to go to prison."

A look of pain crossed Mr. Banker's face. He and my father had been warm friends, and I well knew that he would do all in his power for me.

"He won't go to prison if I can help it," he said. "Luke, tell me the whole story."

Despite the numerous interruptions from my uncle, I related the particulars of the case. Mr. Banker listened with close attention.

"That sounds like a straight story," he said, when I had concluded. "I can't see but what your son is just as much under suspicion as Luke, Stillwell."

"You don't know anything about it, Banker, and the less you have to do with the matter the better off you will be."

"I'm going to see Luke through."

"What brought you here?"

"I came to take him along with me, if he hadn't gone yet. Harry said he expected him up to spend the day or maybe a week, and I happened to be in the city since yesterday."

"He wouldn't leave me off," I put in. "He hasn't let me have a holiday since I've been here."

"Humph! seems to me you're rather hard on the lad, Stillwell, in more ways than one."

"It's none of your business. You had better leave us alone."

"As I've said before, I intend to see Luke through. Don't be alarmed, my lad. If you've done right all will go well with you."

"Thank you, Mr. Banker. I need a friend. Mr. Stillwell doesn't give me half a show."

"You shall have all the show you need after this, Luke."

My uncle was in a rage, but he did not know what to do. Now that I had some one to stand by me, I no longer felt the alarm I had when alone.

"For the last time, are you going to give up the money?" asked Mr. Stillwell.

"I've already answered that question," was my reply.

"Then you shall go to prison. Come along with me."

He made a movement as if to take me by the arm, but Mr. Banker stopped him.

"Not so fast, Stillwell. Where do you intend to take him?"

"To the station house, where he belongs."

This alarmed me.

"Can he do it?" I asked. "I didn't take the money."

Mr. Banker's face clouded.

"I am afraid he can. But don't be alarmed. I will stand by you."

But the prospect before me of spending even a short while in one of the city station houses, previous to an examination, was not a pleasant one. I had known one young clerk who had done so, and was ever afterwards spoken of as having been to prison under suspicion.

"I won't go to prison," I cried. "He has no right to send me. Why doesn't he send Gus, too?"

"You come along," said my uncle sternly. "Didn't I tell you we would find out who was master?"

He took hold of my arm. As he did so Mr. Canning came bustling in.

"Hello, what's up?" he exclaimed.

My uncle told his story. The new partner listened incredulously.

"I can hardly believe it possible!" he exclaimed. "Yet many things are queer here, he added," with a peculiar look that made my uncle wince.

"And I'm going to make an example of him," went on my uncle. "Take charge of the office while I take the young rascal down to the police station."

"I will take charge of the office, but don't act hastily," replied Mr. Canning.

"Now come along," went on Mr. Stillwell to me. "And beware how you conduct yourself."

"I shall go along," said Mr. Banker.

Taking me by the arm, my uncle led the way down the stairs. Mr. Banker was close at my side.

CHAPTER VI

A TURN OF FORTUNE

It was now almost nine o'clock, and Nassau Street, where the patent offices of Stillwell, Grinder & Co. were situated, was crowded with people. My uncle made such a show of what he was doing that it was not long before quite a crowd was following us, all anxious to know what had happened.

"There is no use of your making such a show of the poor boy," said Mr. Banker. "You act as if he had murdered some one."

"Mind your own business," snarled Mr. Stillwell.

Mr. Banker was an upright farmer, and there was little of natural meekness in his nature. He resented my uncle's speech, and quite an altercation took place.

While the two were talking I was doing some hard thinking. The idea of going to prison became every moment more odious to me. I could fancy myself in a dark, damp cell, surrounded by criminals of every degree, awaiting a hearing. What would my friends think? And if the affair once got into the newspapers my good name would be gone forever.

The more I thought of the matter the more determined I became that I would not go to prison. Suppose I ran away?

No sooner had this foolish thought entered my mind than I prepared to act upon it. We were now on the corner of Fulton Street, and to cross here was all but impossible. My uncle and Mr. Banker were still in hot dispute, and for an instant neither of them noticed me.

"Good-bye, Mr. Banker, I'm off!" I cried out suddenly.

And the next moment I had torn myself loose from my uncle's grasp, and was dashing down Fulton Street at the top of my speed.

"Hi! come back!" called out Mr. Banker after me; but I paid no heed.

"Stop him! Stop him!" yelled my uncle. "Stop the thief!"

His last words set the street in commotion. The cry of "Stop the thief!" resounded on all sides, and soon it seemed to me that I was being followed by at least half a hundred men and boys, all eager to stop me in hopes of a possible reward.

But now that I had once started, I made up my mind not to be captured. I was a good block ahead, and by skillful turning I gradually managed to increase the distance.

I was headed for the East River, and it was not long before I came in sight of the docks and the ferry slips. At one of the slips stood a ferry-boat just preparing to leave for Brooklyn.

The sight of the boat gave me a sudden thought. I dashed into the ferry-house, paid the ferry fare, and in a moment was on board, just as the boat left the slip.

It had been a long and hard run, but at last I was safe from being followed. Once in Brooklyn there would be a hundred places for me to go in case of necessity.

Wiping the perspiration from my face, I made my way to the forward deck. But few people were on board, and quite undisturbed, I leaned against the railing to review the situation.

What should I do next, was the question that arose to my mind, and I found no little difficulty in answering it. I was half inclined to think that I had acted very foolishly in running away. Now every one would surely believe me guilty, and if I was caught it would go hard indeed with me.

Had I better go back? For one brief instant I thought such a course would be best; then came the vision of the cell, and I shuddered, and resolved, now I had undertaken to escape, to continue as I had begun. Whether I was wise or not I will leave my readers to determine after my story is concluded.

It was not long before the boat bumped into the slip on the opposite shore. The shock brought me to a recollection of the present, and in company with the other passengers I went ashore. I had something of a notion that a policeman would be in waiting for me, but none appeared, and I passed out to the street unaccosted.

I had been to Brooklyn several times on errands for the firm, so I knew the streets quite well. But fearful of being seen, I passed close to the wharves, and finally came to a lumber yard, and here I sat down.

It was a hot day, and it was not long before I was forced to seek the shade. Close at hand was a shed, and this I took the liberty of entering.

It was a rough place, used for the seasoning of the better class of wood. I found a seat on some ends of planking in a cool corner, quite out of the line of observation of those who were passing.

Here I sat for full an hour. Nothing seemed to be going on in the lumber yard, and no one came to disturb me.

But at last came voices, and then two rough looking men approached. I was about to make my presence known, but their appearance was such that I remained silent; and they took seats close to the spot where I was.

"And the captain is sure that she is fully insured?" asked the taller of the two.

"Trust Captain Hannock to cover himself well!" laughed the other. "You can bet he has her screwed up to the top notch."

"And what is this cargo insured for?"

"McNeil didn't say. Not much less than a hundred thousand, I guess. Of course you'll go, Crocker?"

"Ya-as," replied the man addressed as Crocker, somewhat slowly. "I can't pick up a thousand dollars any easier than that."

"I thought I had struck you right. Are you ready to sail?"

"Anytime you say, Lowell. I owe two weeks' board now, and Mammy Brown hinted last night I'd better pay up or seek other quarters."

And Crocker gave a short, hard laugh.

"Then meet me at the Grapevine in an hour," said the man called Lowell. "I've got to make a few other arrangements before we start."

"Right you are."

"And remember, not a word – "

"Luff there! As if I didn't understand the soundings."

"All right. Come and have one."

The two men arose at once and headed for a saloon that stood upon the near corner.

I arose also and watched them out of sight. The conversation that they had held had not been a very lucid one, yet I was certain they were up to no good. One of them had spoken of making a thousand dollars in an easy manner, and I was positive that meant the money was to be gained dishonestly.

What was I to do? I was no detective, to follow the men, and I was just at present on far from good terms with the police. It seemed a pity to let the matter rest where it stood, but for the present I did not feel inclined to investigate it. I would keep my eyes open, and if anything more turned up, or was noted in the papers, I would tell all I had heard.

I wandered along the docks, piled high with merchandise of all descriptions. Beyond, a number of stately vessels rested at anchor, large and small, among which the steam tugs were industriously puffing and blowing, on the lookout for a job.