Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast

"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 two last 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, "

"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. What a pile of money those smugglers must make, though. Here is one of them, apparently a simple deck-hand, who buys the choicest groceries to be had in Victoria, bathes in cologne-water, throws away a suit of clothes so handsome that I should be only too glad to wear them myself, and now puts up at the swellest hotel in the city. It certainly is a great business."

While thinking these things the lieutenant was hurrying back towards 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, followed by a sailor bearing a canvas dunnage-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, having desired the lieutenant to keep out of sight until sent for.

Inside of three minutes a bell-boy ushered into the room a well-dressed, squarely built youth, with a resolute face and honest blue eyes that looked straight into those of the commander.

"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 that lay with its painted name uppermost.

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 a 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 forthcoming 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 testify as to my character."

With this Phil stepped to the bell, and rang it so violently that half a dozen bell-boys came tumbling into the room at once. "Go to No. 20," said the youth to one of these, "and ask the gentleman who is there to kindly step down here for a minute."

"And you, boy!" thundered the commander to another, his face flushed with anger, "find the gentleman who came here with me, and inform him that I desire his presence immediately."

The lieutenant was the first to arrive.

"Is this your Philip Ryder?" demanded the commander, at the same time pointing to the youth who stood opposite.

"No, sir, he is not," replied the lieutenant, promptly.

"Who is he, then?" asked the other, staggered by this answer.

"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, where Phil Ryder has just completed a most notable exploration on snow-shoes and sledges of the Yukon Valley. By-the-way, he is also a friend of your old 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 offer my humble apologies for this absurd mistake."

With a general hand-shaking and exchange of introductions, they all sat down for an hour of mutual explanations. During these it was discovered that Phil and Jalap Coombs had remained at the wharf some time after the others of their party left, to look after their numerous pieces of baggage, and so did not come up to the hotel until just as the steamer that had brought them was departing for Seattle.

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 young customers 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, hoping for a future opportunity of extending the hospitality of the ship, I will wish you both a very good night."

CHAPTER XXII

TWO SHORT BUT EXCITING VOYAGES

As the Alaska steamer on which Alaric and Bonny so unexpectedly took passage moved from the Tacoma wharf, and they lost sight of the officer who had so nearly overtaken them, they congratulated each other over their escape.

"I tell you, Rick Dale, that was a close shave," said Bonny.

"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 Sonntaggs 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 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 Port Townsend, or Victoria, San Francisco, China, or even Alaska. So I move we go ashore and try our luck here."

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. Berating them for a couple of rascally young stowaways, this man chased them down the gang-plank with terrific threats of what he would do if he ever caught them on the ship again.

"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 at the hill-side, in which he had spent the day. At that time he had not paid any more attention to it than to any other of the hundreds of hotels in which he had been a guest, but now a thought of the dinner being served in its brilliantly lighted dining-room caused him to realize how very hungry he was more than anything else could have done. 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 all that great city where a hungry boy without one cent in his pocket could get something to eat.

"There's a free soup-kitchen on Yessler 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 ye 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 sooner or later. 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.

"Aye, aye, sir. I'll nab 'em for ye if they comes this way again," was the answer; and then both speakers moved out of hearing towards 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."

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?"

"Aye, aye, 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, ordered him to wheel the truck up on to the wharf, and threatened to discharge him on the spot without one cent of wages as a cure for his blooming awkwardness.

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!" he took a flying leap that landed him on all fours on the deck, amid loud guffaws of laughter from those who happened to be near. As he regained his feet, the lad, still mistaken for one of several new hands who had been shipped the evening before, was ordered aft to help haul in the stern line by which the boat was now swinging. He went in the direction indicated, but managed to slip away before reaching the place of the stern line and hide 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 pathway into the world of active life seemed to be beset, he fell asleep. When he awoke it was broad daylight, the sun was shining, and a house seemed tumbling about his ears. It was only the goods among which he had hidden being pulled down by the crew, who were discharging cargo. As the lad scrambled from beneath the very mattress he had brought aboard, and which had now fallen on top of him, he was 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 towards 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, without an idea of where he was or whither he was going.

CHAPTER XXIII

ALARIC TODD'S DARKEST HOUR

"Hello, Rick Dale! Hold on!" was the hail that caused Alaric to halt in his flight from the most recent of the chasings that were becoming so common a feature of his life.

It was Bonny who called, and who now came running up to him. "Where have you been all this time?" he asked. "I've waited and watched for you ever since we got in, a good two hours ago, and was getting mighty uneasy for fear you'd fallen overboard or got left at Seattle, or something. You see, I feel in a way responsible for you, seeing that I got you into all this mess."

"That's queer," said Alaric, with a faint smile, and sitting down wearily on a huge anchor that lay beside one of the warehouses, "for I've been thinking that all your troubles were owing to me. I'm awfully sorry, though, I kept you waiting, but I suppose I must have been asleep."

"You had better luck than I did, then," growled Bonny, seating himself beside his friend, "for I haven't had a wink of sleep since we left Seattle. I was just getting into a doze when a miserable deck-hand swashed a bucket of water over me. Then they found me out, and set me to work cleaning decks and polishing brass. They kept me at it every minute until we got here, and then fired me ashore."

"Did they give you any breakfast?" inquired Alaric, with an interest that betrayed the tendency of his thoughts.

"Not much, they didn't. Have you had anything to eat?"

"Not a bite; and do you know, Bonny, I think I am beginning to realize what starving means."

"I know I am, and what being utterly worn out means as well. Do you suppose it's just hunger that makes a fellow feel sick and light-headed and weak as a cat, the way I do now, or is it that he is really in for something serious, like a fever or whooping-cough or one of the things with big names?"

"I expect it's hunger, and nothing else," replied Alaric, "for I feel just that way myself, and I've been really ill times enough to know the difference."

"Then it must be starvation, and something has got to be done about it," exclaimed Bonny, starting to his feet with a resolute air, "for I don't believe any two fellows are going to be allowed to starve to death in this city of Tacoma. So I'm going to get something for us to eat, even if I have to steal."

"Oh no, Bonny, don't steal. We haven't quite come to that," objected Alaric. "Did you say this was Tacoma, though?"

"Yes, of course. Didn't you recognize it?"

"No, I didn't, for I wasn't given much chance to get acquainted with it last evening, you know. But if this is Tacoma, I've an idea that I believe will bring us some money. So suppose we separate for a while? You can go one way looking for something to eat, and I'll go another in search of that which will mean the same thing. When the whistles blow for noon we'll both come back here and compare notes."

"All right," agreed Bonny. "I'll do it, and if I don't bring back something to eat, it will be because the whole city is starving, that's all."

So the two set forth in opposite directions, Bonny taking a course that would lead him among the shipping, and Alaric walking up the long easy grade of Pacific Avenue towards the city proper. His pride, which no personal suffering nor discomfort could overthrow, had given way at last before the wretchedness of his friend. "It is I who am the cause of it," he said to himself, "and so I am bound to help him out by the only way I can think of. I hate to do it, for it will be owning up that I am not fit to care for myself or able to fight my own way in the world. I know, too, just how John and the others will laugh at me, but I've got to do something at once, and there doesn't seem to be anything else."

The scheme that Alaric so dreaded to undertake, and was yet determined to execute, was the telegraphing to his brother John for funds. Of course John would report the matter to their father, who had probably been already notified of his younger son's disappearance, and our lad would be ordered to return home immediately. Or perhaps John would come to fetch him back, like a runaway child. It would all be dreadfully humiliating, and on his own account he would have undergone much greater trials than those of the present rather than place himself in such a position. But for the sake of the boy who had befriended him and suffered with him, it must be done.

The only telegraph-office in the city of which Alaric knew was in the Hotel Tacoma, where he had passed a day on his northward journey, and thither he bent his steps. As he entered its open portal and crossed the spacious hall in which was located the telegraph-station, the well-dressed guests who paced leisurely to and fro or lounged in easy-chairs stared at him curiously. And well they might, for a more tattered, begrimed, unkempt, and generally woe-begone youth had never been seen in that place of luxurious entertainment. Had Alaric encountered a mirror, he would have stared at himself and passed by without recognition; but for the moment his mind was too busy with other thoughts to allow him to consider his appearance.

The box-like telegraph-office was occupied by a fashionably attired young woman, who was just then absorbed in an exciting novel. After keeping Alaric waiting for several minutes, or until after she had finished a chapter, she took the despatch he had written, and read it aloud:

"To Mr. John Todd, Amos Todd Bank, San Francisco:

"Dear John, – Please send me by wire one hundred dollars. Will write and explain why I need it. Alaric."

"Dollar and a half," said the young woman, tersely, and without looking up.

Although many telegrams had been forwarded at various times and from distant parts of the world in Alaric Todd's name, he had never before attempted to send one in person. Now, therefore, although somewhat startled by the request for a dollar and a half, he replied, calmly:

"Send it collect, please. It will be paid for at the other end."

"Can't do it; 'gainst the rules," retorted the young woman, sharply, now glancing at the lad before her, and contemptuously scanning him from head to foot.

"But," pleaded poor Alaric, "this is so very important. The money that I ask for is sure to come, and then I will pay for it a dozen times over, if you like. It will certainly be paid for, though, in San Francisco, at the Amos Todd Bank, for my name is Todd – Alaric Todd."

"It wouldn't make any difference," remarked the young woman, "if your name were George Washington or John Jacob Astor; you couldn't send a despatch through this office without paying for it. So if you haven't any money you might as well make up your mind not to waste any more of my time."