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

I will not deny that I was nervous, and for the first moment my hand trembled so that I could hardly open what I touched.

But presently I grew more composed and even reckless, and ransacked whatever came beneath my notice.

My first work was to pull open the drawer of the cabin table. I found it full of charts and nautical instruments, accompanied by the log-book. There was also, stuffed in one corner, the ship's articles, and opening it, I discovered my name at the very end, written in a rough hand, entirely different from my own.

This was evidently the captain's or Lowell's work, and it was on the strength of it that the two hoped to clear themselves. The fact that I was a minor had not entered into their calculations.

I put the articles back into the drawer and closed it. Then I looked around to see in what direction to continue the search.

In one corner was a closet. I opened it, but found it contained nothing but bottles of liquor and medicine, the former predominating. I closed the closet and then wondered what I should attack next.

While meditating I heard footsteps on the companionway. It was Captain Hannock descending, and I had hardly time to slip behind a curtain that led to one of the staterooms when he entered.

"Confound the boy, I wonder what has become of him?" I heard him mutter. "Foster!" he called out.

I made no sound. The captain stood still for a moment.

"Lowell must have been mistaken. The young cub would never dare to come down here on his own hook."

And with this comment and a final glance around, Captain Hannock left the cabin and mounted to the deck.

I breathed more freely when he was gone. I had had a narrow escape. Had he looked in the stateroom I would have surely been discovered.

I continued my search with difficulty. The stateroom was comparatively dark, and my ears were strained to their utmost to catch the first sound of any one approaching.

The room was that belonging to the captain. Under the berth was a locker, tightly fastened. I was certain that the locker contained what I was seeking for, because it was the one likely place that such a thing would be in. But how could I open the box?

I felt in my pockets, but they were bare of everything that could be of use to me. My eyes rested on a bunch of keys hung upon a nail near by. I took them down, and tried one after another.

At length I came to the right one, and in a moment had the locker open. The box was filled with clothing, but at the side was a smaller box or pocket, and this contained letters and documents of various kinds.

I took out the entire batch and ran my eyes over the superscriptions with all haste. The letters were all addressed to Captain Hannock with but one exception.

And that exception was the letter I had received from London.

Eagerly I opened the envelope. The contents were intact, and assured of this I stuffed the precious epistle in my bosom.

I was about to restore the remaining letters to their original place when the handwriting upon several of them attracted my attention. The chirography was of a peculiarly heavy and sloping character, and I instantly recognized it as that written by my uncle!

I was almost dumfounded by my discovery. What did Mr. Stillwell and Captain Hannock have in common?

For a moment I hesitated about opening the letters. Then I reflected that both of the men were plotting against my welfare, and I opened one of the epistles without any further compunction.

It was dated at New York City ten days before, and read as follows:

"Dear Hannock: – I will be unable to call upon you to-day as agreed, and perhaps it is just as well that we are not seen together too much. The cargo is now all ready at Kinley's in Brooklyn, well packed. Lowell can take charge of it for us mutually. The insurance is O.K.

"I trust you have no trouble with the insurance on the vessel. Powers will fix it up for you. The New Bedford business will be all ready for you when you arrive, and you need not wait but half a day at the most. Will see you to-morrow.

"F. S."

I read the letter through with great care. When I had finished I felt sick at heart.

Beyond a doubt my uncle was in league with Captain Hannock, and the two were engaged in as big a piece of villainy as had ever come to my notice.

I turned to several of the other letters. The second was evidently a reply to one from Captain Hannock, asking if my uncle considered the scheme safe, to which Mr. Stillwell said that "nothing ventured nothing gained," and that he needed money, because he did not as yet dare to touch the amount placed in his care.

This letter undoubtedly referred to my inheritance, and I wondered how large a sum it was, and why Uncle Felix did not dare to use it for his own benefit, seeing that he would tell me nothing concerning it.

I would fain have believed that he was not yet hardened to do such a deed. But his actions towards me did not tend to confirm that idea, and I was forced to come to the conclusion that he had as yet not had the courage to do so.

I put the two letters in my bosom along with my own. Perhaps this was not exactly the right thing to do, but I did not have time to consider my actions. By the noise on deck I knew we were approaching a landing, and I expected every moment to hear some one come down the companionway.

The third letter was a long one, and very hurriedly written, so much so in fact that I had all I could do to decipher its contents. I moved over to the skylight, and was soon deeply absorbed.

"You rascal, you, what are you doing here?"

It was Captain Hannock's voice. I started in alarm, and found the skipper of the Spitfire close at my elbow.

CHAPTER XVII

IN A TIGHT FIX

Captain Hannock's face was deadly white, and I knew he had taken in at a glance what I was doing.

"Looking for my letter," I replied, as calmly as I could.

"Are you?" He glared at me. "You're too smart, young man. I'll have to take you down a peg."

As he spoke he advanced upon me. I saw that he had a large wooden belaying pin in his hand, and I retreated as far as possible.

But he was between me and the door, and took good care not to go round the cabin table, so I was soon forced to stop simply because I could back no further.

"Don't you dare to touch me!" I cried.

He gave a hard laugh.

"I'll do just as I please. Lowell!"

There was no answer. The captain repeated the call in a louder tone, and presently the boatswain came hurrying down the stairs.

"What's up, Captain?"

"I've found him," replied Captain Hannock grimly. "Prying through my private papers!"

"What?"

"Jest so! Come, get some rope. We'll teach him a lesson he won't forget."

Lowell left the cabin at once. I wondered what the skipper of the Spitfire intended to do next. Was he going to flog me?

I was not prepared for what was to follow. In a moment Lowell returned with a quantity of stout rope.

"Now bind him well from head to foot," said the captain.

"No, you don't!" I cried.

"Yes, we do, my hearty," returned Lowell, and Captain Hannock shook the belaying pin in my face.

"Stand still, unless you want your head split open," he commanded. "I'll have you to understand your days of fooling are over. You've discovered our secret, but it sha'n't do you any good."

The boatswain sprang upon me, and the skipper of the Spitfire assisted him. I struggled, but soon found it of little use. The two were too many for me, and in a moment I was securely bound.

"Now open the trap, Lowell, and we'll chuck him down in the hold," exclaimed Captain Hannock.

"He may yell, Captain."

"That's so. Tie a cloth over his mouth."

The boatswain procured a towel, and stuffing part of it in my mouth fastened it around my neck.

Then a trap door in the cabin floor was opened, and I was lowered upon the cargo below.

"Now you can stay there till you come to your senses," observed Captain Hannock.

Then the trap was closed, and I was left to my fate.

Fortunately for me the distance I was dropped was not great or I might have been severely injured. I struck upon a packing-case and lay there helplessly. I overheard my captors move about the cabin for some time, and then all was quiet.

The gag in my mouth nearly choked me, but try my best I could not dislodge it. The ropes about my body, especially those that were tightened around my ankles, hurt me not a little, but all my efforts to loosen them only appeared to draw them closer, until, had I been able to do so, I would have cried out from pain.

As I have said once before, the darkness in the hold was intense, and try my best I could not see a thing. Had there been a light I might not have felt so bad, but as it was I felt next to hopeless.

I wondered what was going on above. I was not kept long in suspense, for presently there was a thump and I knew the Spitfire had reached the dock.

Then came the noise of many feet, as the schooner was tied up and the sails were lowered and made fast. At length this task was completed, and then all was quiet once more.

I wondered if Mr. Ranson had gone ashore without making any inquiries about me, and if so, if he would bring down the police or other officers of the law to arrest Captain Hannock and the others.

The time dragged by slowly, until I thought the entire day had passed. I grew hungry and thirsty, and at last chewed the bit of cloth in my mouth for pure consolation. Would no help come?

At length, when I had given up all hope of seeing any one, I heard a noise at the other end of the hold, and presently saw the dim rays of a candle moving slowly about.

"Foster, are you here?"

Instantly I recognized the voice of Tony Dibble, and my heart gave a bound. I tried to cry out to him, but could not.

But, though I could not cry, I could make a noise with my heels, and this I did with a right good will.

It did not take me long to attract the old sailor's attention. He stopped short, and held the candle over his head.

"Is it really you, Foster?" he asked.

"Rat, tat, tat," I replied with my heels.

"Where are you?" he went on.

"Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat," was all I could answer.

"Gagged, I'll be bound," he muttered to himself; and at last found his way to my side.

It did not take him long to unfasten the gag, and that once out of my mouth I was able to breathe with some comfort, a thing which gave me no little satisfaction.

"Who did the job?" he asked, as he unloosed the ropes.

"The captain and Lowell," I replied. "They caught me in the cabin."

"I made up my mind something was wrong," went on Dibble. "I couldn't find you anywhere, and was pretty certain you wouldn't go ashore without letting me know."

"Where is Mr. Ranson?"

"Gone off to get the officers. Reckon we'll have lively times in an hour or two."

"Perhaps I'd better stay down here until he returns," I replied.

"You can do that unless you want to run the risk of sneaking ashore."

"I would like to do that if I can. Where is Captain Hannock?"

"Gone ashore."

"And Lowell?"

"On deck, and Crocker with him. They'd be almost sure to see you."

This was not very encouraging.

"I'll go up and have a peep around. I don't much like the idea of remaining in this close place any longer."

And with this remark I followed Dibble to the trap-door leading from the forecastle pantry.

We were soon in the forecastle, and then the old sailor went out on deck to see if the coast was clear.

He was gone but a few moments.

"It's no use," he whispered hurriedly. "The captain's just come back and is on deck, and Lowell is coming down here! You had better go back for a while."

"But if they find me untied?"

"They won't know but what you untied yourself. Come, hurry up!"

I followed Tony Dibble's advice. I had hardly entered the hold when Lowell appeared.

"Is Crocker here?" he asked.

"No, sir," replied Dibble.

"Better git on deck," went on the boatswain, as he turned and left again.

"Aye, aye, sir."

Tony Dibble followed him on deck, and I was once more left to myself.

Hardly five minutes passed before I heard a sound that filled me with alarm. The ropes holding the schooner fast to the dock were loosed, the sails were hoisted, and before I could realize it we were once more under way.

What did it mean? Had Captain Hannock smelt a mouse and thus sought to outwit Mr. Ranson? It certainly looked that way.

CHAPTER XVIII

I AM PUT IN IRONS

I was thoroughly dismayed. All the plans the lawyer and myself had laid were now useless. He was left behind and I was on board little better than a prisoner. Bitterly I regretted not having taken the chances of getting ashore without being observed. Of what use now was all my information against Captain Hannock and his confederates? In an hour we would be far out at sea, and then the chances of doing anything to save myself would be small indeed.

Suddenly the idea of jumping overboard and swimming ashore entered my mind. We could not be far from the dock, and anything was better than to stay aboard the doomed Spitfire.

No sooner had the idea suggested itself than I undertook to put it into execution. I raised the trap and crawled up into the forecastle. No one was there, and I sneaked to the deck.

As I had surmised, the dock was not over a quarter of a mile away, if indeed it was as far. I was a fair swimmer, and without hesitation I ran to the rail with the full intention of jumping overboard.

"Hi, you rascal, come back! Stop him, somebody!"

It was Captain Hannock's voice, and it made me run faster than ever. I gained the rail, and in another moment would have been over.

"Hi, Crocker! Why don't you stop the lad!"

The next instant I felt a hand on my collar, and I was drawn forcibly back.

"Let me go!" I cried, and twisted with might and main to free myself.

"Not so lively, my hearty!" said Crocker. "The captain says you are to stay aboard."

And despite my struggles he held me until the others came.

But now I was thoroughly desperate, not knowing what would happen if I was carried to sea. I continued my struggles even after Captain Hannock's hand was placed on my arm.

This enraged the captain and he looked around for a rope's end with which to beat me into submission.

Seeing a chance, I made another struggle, and this time succeeded in breaking loose from Crocker and gaining the rail before they could catch me again.

Splash! I was over the side and into the water.

I had taken as good a dive as possible, and now I remained under water as long as my breath would allow. Consequently, when I again came to the surface I was all of a hundred feet behind the Spitfire. I lost no time in striking out for the shore.

But weighed down as I was by my clothing, my progress was slow. Realizing how I was encumbered, I paused long enough to pull off my coat and vest and kick off my shoes, and then I struck out once more.

In the mean time Captain Hannock was letting forth a flood of vile language at everything and everybody. He wanted to know who had aided me to escape and he threatened to shoot me if I did not turn around and swim back.

The threat rather alarmed me, but as I did not see any firearm in his hand I paid no heed to it, but kept on, until the distance between me and the schooner was considerable.

But now, to my chagrin, I saw the sails on the schooner being lowered. Then I heard the captain give the command to lower the boat.

Desperately I struck out for the shore, still so far away. I knew I could not make land, but I was in hope that I might get close enough to summon assistance. There were a number of boats, both large and small, moving about, and why should I not be able to find some one upon one of these ready to assist me?

"Help! Help!" I began to cry at the top of my voice.

"He's calling for help!" I heard Crocker exclaim. "He'll have somebody from shore at hand soon!"

"Man the boat, quick!" returned Captain Hannock. "We've only got a couple of minutes to reach him in!"

Crocker and the captain sprang into the boat and two sailors at once followed. Then two pairs of oars dropped into the water and the row-boat left the stern of the schooner.

I continued to swim, but my hopes of escape were rapidly leaving me. I was still too far away from any of the shore-boats for their occupants to hear my cries, and no one but those on the schooner and the schooner's boat seemed to be looking in my direction.

A few minutes more and the boat dashed up beside me. I dove out of sight, but the keen eyes of Crocker kept sight of me and when I once more arose he put out his hand and caught me by the ear.

"Come aboard!" he cried, sharply.

"Haul him in by the ear if he won't come!" roared Captain Hannock. "We can't afford to waste time on him. The sooner we get away from this harbor the better."

"That's so," returned Crocker, and he gave my ear a tremendous pull. "Are you coming?" he demanded.

"Yes; don't yank my ear off," I replied, for the way he was treating me hurt not a little.

"Then come aboard at once."

He continued to pull my ear, and one of the sailors caught me by the left hand. So seeing it was useless to resist any longer, I clambered over the side.

On the way after me the party in the boat had picked up my coat and vest, and these Captain Hannock now threw towards me.

"Put them on and behave yourself," he said, briefly. "Pull for the schooner, boys."

I donned the garments and sat down on the forward seat. The captain sat close beside me, and during the return to the vessel his watchful eyes did not once leave me.

We were soon on deck once more, and then without warning Captain Hannock burst forth into a perfect storm of anger.

He sprang at me and struck me a cruel blow in the mouth that almost knocked me off my feet.

"That's the way to treat him," put in Crocker, "Lay it to him good, Captain."

"You brute!" I cried.

"Shut up!" cried Captain Hannock; and then he turned away to give orders to the sailors to hoist sail again.

"You'll catch it now," went on Crocker to me.

"I don't care," I returned, recklessly.

"You don't, eh?"

"No, I don't. Do your worst!"

And I would say no more to him.

Presently the sails went up once more and again the Spitfire moved away from the distant shore. With the fading away of the land my last hope appeared to desert me.

Then Captain Hannock again approached me.

"How did you get loose?" demanded the skipper of the Spitfire, as he hurried up, red with rage.

"That's my business," was my reply. "You have no right to keep me on board."

"I'll put you in irons. Crocker, get the irons, I'll show the cub who's boss here!"

In a minute the handcuffs had been placed upon my wrists.

"We've lost one man; I don't intend to lose two," said the captain. "Take him below."

I thought I was to be pitched again into the hold, but this time I was mistaken. Lowell led me to a small room situated in the extreme bow.

"You'll spend a day or two here," he said, as he locked me in. "Perhaps when you come out you won't be so disrespectful to your superiors."

The room was not as bad as the hold had been, there being a little light and ventilation. At one end was a small bench, and on this I sat down.

I was left entirely to myself. Evidently all the sailors had been forbidden to come near me. Hour after hour went by, yet no one appeared.

I wondered why Tony Dibble did not manage to send me word of some kind. I did not know that the honest old sailor was at this minute on the dock at New Bedford, speculating on what had become of the Spitfire.

At length towards evening Lowell came with a tray of food which he set down on the floor of my prison.

"You want to make the most of it," he said, as he walked away. "It has got to last you till to-morrow noon."

The food was not of the best and daintiest kind, but I was hungry, and even at the risk of starving later on I ate nearly the whole of it. He had also brought along a pitcher of water, and of this I took a deep draught.

I sat for a long time meditating over my situation, but could make nothing out of it. As affairs had turned, I must make the best of whatever came.

I sat awake long after dark, but finally my eyes grew heavy and then I went to sleep on the bench until morning.

All the forenoon was passed in solitude. To one unaccustomed to this the experience is terrible. How I longed to have even a cat or dog to talk to! But neither one nor the other was on board.

When Lowell came at noon I asked him how long my confinement was to continue.

"Until you are ready to do your duty," he said; and not another word would he utter.

The day passed slowly, and the night was to me a restless one. What was going on in the cabin and on deck? Were Captain Hannock and Lowell getting ready to carry out their nefarious plan?

I regretted not having taken one of the other sailors into my confidence. But which of them could I trust?

By this time I had made up my mind that Dibble was not on board. Probably he had gone on a hunt for Mr. Ranson and been left behind.

I tried in vain to attract the attention of one of the men as he passed. Either he did not see me or else he did not dare to come near. If only some of them knew!

About four o'clock I fell asleep. I slept for some hours, and would have continued doing so had not a wild cry suddenly brought me to my feet.

"Fire! Fire!"

It was a fearful cry – doubly fearful on a ship hundreds of miles from land – and my face blanched as I sprang to my feet.

Could it be possible – was the Spitfire in flames?

"Fire! fire!" came that dreadful cry once more.

Then came loud voices issuing orders and the rush of the sailors' feet.

In vain I tried to catch sight of some one. The men, in a perfect panic, rushed hither and thither, but no one paid any attention to me.

"On deck there!" I heard Lowell shout.

"Where is the fire?" burst from half a dozen throats in chorus.

"In the hold – it is one mass of flames!"

"Can't we put it out?" questioned one of the sailors.

"No, the fire has gained too much headway for that."

"But we might try."

"It won't do, I tell you. We must get out a boat and leave the schooner. Ten minutes more and it will be too late."

"What, as bad as that!" came back with a groan. "Can't we save her nohow?"

"No, I tell you, idiot! I've been on board a burning vessel before. Man the jolly-boat, and lose no time!"

"Yes, yes, the jolly-boat!" ejaculated half a dozen, and then I heard another rush.

I was terribly alarmed. Captain Hannock's foul plot had been put into execution. What would the end be?

I was almost stunned by my discovery. I paced up and down my cell like a madman, but all to no purpose.

"Hurry up, men!" I heard Captain Hannock exclaim. "Don't be an hour in doing five minute's work! Use your strength!"

"Ay! ay! sir! No time to lose, that's a fact."

And the crew of the Spitfire hurried their preparations even more than before.

"Never mind your things, boys, save your lives. We may have an explosion, and then it will be too late."

CHAPTER XIX

THE BURNING OF THE SPITFIRE

Already I could smell the smoke that was pouring out of the cracks around the hatchway. It would not be a great while before the entire vessel would be consumed.

In my cell near the bow I could hear but little of what was going on at the stern. I had no doubt but what active preparations were being made to leave the ship. I knew well enough that no means would be taken to subdue the conflagration. It was not Captain Hannock's desire to undo his nefarious work now it was once begun. The quicker every one left the Spitfire to her doom the better he would be suited.

But my attention was soon taken from the schooner and centered upon my own safety. At the start I had no thought but what somebody would come to release me, but, as the moments went by and no one came, the awful suspicion crossed my mind that the master of the Spitfire meant to leave me to my fate.

I could not at first believe this to be possible, but finally the thought forced itself home to me. No sooner had it done so than I made every effort to attract the attention of some of the sailors, who, in their panic, had evidently forgotten my existence.