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"The first company is going to try to win the flag, and I'm going to spring a big surprise on you."
"Pshaw! Is that your news? Perhaps I'll spring a surprise on you."
"Go ahead if you can, Sam, but I warn you now that I have done something toward winning the flag that you don't know anything about. It's in line with advice that was given to all of us months ago, and what I've done is perfectly proper and legitimate. I'll tell you frankly that because of special preparation I have made, I expect the first company will have a higher final multiple than your company will have."
"What was the advice you refer to, Bob? I don't recall any."
"By the way, haven't you been doing some special stunts in seamanship? Haven't some old boatswain's mates been giving your men some extra drill in handling sail?"
"Never mind about that, Bob; if I have done special work in seamanship I'm not bound to tell you what it is. But what was the advice you spoke of?"
"Sam, we'll be on the square with each other. I learned accidentally that you were getting specially coached in seamanship; well, I'm doing special work in gunnery. It's a fair field and no favor, and may the best company win."
"Good. Some of the fellows have been figuring up the points already known to be credited to the different companies; more than half of the points are already made, you know, and as it happens both the first and second companies are so far pretty close together; we're within ten points of each other to-day and no other company is within twenty points of either of us. Either you or I will win the flag, that is certain. And, Bob, if you win it I'm going to lead the cheering for the winning company."
"I appreciate that sentiment, Sam, and if you win the flag I will lead the cheering."
"Say, Bob, have you read about that kidnapping case in Baltimore? Some rascals have stolen a little boy named Georgie Thompson."
"No, I hadn't. Jingo! I hope they catch the scoundrels and get the boy back."
The two young men shook hands in the heartiest fashion and separated. There was intense personal rivalry between them, far more than their words expressed; it was a commendable rivalry; each was determined to make every effort to win the great prize, but each had a high personal regard for the other.
This meeting was on one of the Saturdays in May. Robert was now highly elated with the efficiency of his six-pounder crew. It drilled every day. Dummy six-pounder shells were thrown into the gun with tremendous speed and remarkable precision. There were now no slips, no jams. While this was proceeding Robert would be at the shoulder-piece, his eye at the peep-sight, aiming at some boat in the river. This was the nearest approach possible to actually firing the gun. And every man of the gun's crew was enthusiastically confident.
"Stone," said Robert, after dinner this Saturday, "I've permission to use a steamer this afternoon and I've got up a party to go up the Severn River."
"I'll bet Helen is in the party," replied Stonewell, smiling at his roommate.
"Of course she is; Mrs. Blunt is coming, and Glassfell and Farnum. Now we want you too."
"I wish I could go, but I can't," replied Stonewell, decidedly. "I've an engagement I can't break."
"Oh, rats, chuck your tailor for once – your measure will keep. But now I'll give you some information that will bring you along with us – Nellie Strong is with the Blunts; she arrived this morning and is going to stay over for graduation. Now will you come?"
"I can't, Bob, but I'll be out to the Blunts' house to-night."
"Pshaw, I counted on your going – what is your engagement; can't you put it off?"
"I really wish I could, but it's imperative; there's nothing pleasant about it – I may tell you about it later – I can't now."
"It seems to me you've been getting an extra lot of letters lately, Stone."
"Yes, more than I wish for," rejoined Stone rather bitterly.
"Helen and I went walking that Sunday afternoon, the Sunday you and I had intended going across the river. First Helen had an errand to do on Conduit Street and right ahead of us you were walking along. You went into a big yellow house."
Stonewell gave a start. "Well," he said, "what of it?"
"Look here, Stone, old chap, you have something on your mind that's bothering you terribly. Is there no way I can help you; will it do you no good to talk things over with me?"
"Bob, I can't talk; I don't pretend I'm not worried, but I just can't unburden my mind, not even to the best friend a man ever had," replied Stonewell huskily, with almost a break in his voice. He walked away from his roommate with agitated face, and gloomily looked out upon the waters of Chesapeake Bay.
Loud were the expressions of disappointment from Robert's friends when he told them Stonewell could not join them on their trip. They all got aboard the steam launch, which immediately started up the Severn River; the day was pleasant and all were in high spirits. The Severn River is most picturesque in its scenery. High, densely-wooded banks, irregular in outline, line its shores, and there are many indentations of little bays that lead into the river. Three miles above its mouth the Severn widens into Round Bay, a sheet of water several miles in diameter. And above this and emptying into it is a narrow stream, which is still called Severn River.
The launch steamed through Round Bay, and then entered this narrow stream. "Isn't this beautiful?" cried Robert. "Just look at this winding little river; I wonder how far up we can go. Say, coxswain, how far up this river can we steam?"
"If I knew the channel I could take you up to Indian Landing, sir," answered the coxswain; "some of our steamers have been up that far; but I don't know the channel, sir; I'm afraid we'll go aground at any minute."
"Well, can't you follow that gasoline launch ahead of us? The fellow in it probably knows the channel."
"Yes, sir, I can do that."
A covered gasoline launch was a quarter of a mile ahead. "Give me all the speed you can," called out the coxswain to the engineer; "I want to catch that boat ahead; this river has so many little turns that I'll have to keep close to that chap ahead." The engineer of the launch turned on a steam jet in the smokestack to force the draft and the little boat instantly responded and made a great fuss in increasing the speed of the engine.
"Why don't we catch up?" asked Robert, in a few minutes; "we are surely going much faster than we were."
"Because he has nearly doubled his speed, Mr. Drake," replied the coxswain.
"Hurrah, it's a race!" shouted the midshipman; "now let's see who will win."
The steam launch commenced to gain on the gasoline boat. The coxswain had been looking at the latter through a pair of binoculars; after a time he quietly remarked to Robert, "This isn't a race, sir; those men in the boat ahead of us think we are chasing them, and if I ever saw a pair of precious rogues in my life I'm looking at them now. Take a look at them, Mr. Drake."
"Well, no one would ever say they were pretty," remarked Robert after a good look at them through the glasses. "We are catching up with them now. Hello, they've stopped."
In a short time the steam launch was abreast of the gasoline boat. In the latter but one man was to be seen, and an ill-favored man he was.
"My! What a brutal-looking fellow," remarked Nellie Strong with a shudder.
"What do you want?" demanded the man, in a surly, sullen way.
"We were stealing pilotage from you, that's all," replied Robert. "We're going up this river and don't know the channel and are afraid of going ashore. Is there danger of that if we keep in the middle of the stream?"
"I hope you'll strike a shoal and stay there till the crack of doom. You've no business to go running after another boat that way."
"What's the matter with you?" called out Robert; "and why don't your two friends show themselves? It looks to me as if you're afraid of the police."
The man made an angry exclamation and the steamer passed ahead. "What an ill-tempered man," said Helen Blunt to Robert; "I wish he'd cut off that red beard of his; he wouldn't look so much like a pirate then."
"We won't worry about that fellow. Now I'm going up in the bow with a boat-hook to take soundings; we'll run slow and keep right in the middle of the river. But isn't it beautiful around here. Just look how the little river twists and winds about and how irregular the shore is; and there are lots of little creeks running into the river and little bays stretching out from it."
"And isn't it lonely?" rejoined Helen. "There is hardly a house or a clearing to be seen; it's a regular wilderness."
Robert went to the bow of the steamer, and taking a boat-hook thrust it in the water; it was quite deep enough, so he felt reassured about the boat's not going ashore.
"There's Indian Landing ahead of us," called out the coxswain. "I don't think we had better go much further; we've got eleven miles to run before we get back, and I'm afraid of getting low in coal."
"All right, put aback and return." And soon the steamer was headed down the river.
"Where's that gasoline boat; can you see her anywhere?" asked Robert, a few moments later.
"No, sir, we would have met her by this time if she had followed straight up the river. And that's odd, too. Indian Landing is the only place boats ever come to up here – she must be hidden in one of those lonely creeks."
"That's it, I imagine. There's something queer about that boat; it certainly had three ugly-looking men in it, and two of them didn't want to be seen. That bearded chap was a fierce-looking specimen."
"Say, Bob," called out Glassfell from aft, "mess gear is spread and we're waiting for you to pipe us to dinner, but we won't wait long – you'd better get here in a hurry."
Robert lost no time and immediately joined the others. An attractive lunch had been spread and was now attacked with energy; in the launch was a party of good friends, all in gay spirits. The day was delightful and when they finally reached the "Santee" wharf and left the launch it was unanimously agreed that a most enjoyable afternoon had been spent.
Early this afternoon Stonewell left his room, and unaccompanied went out in the city of Annapolis. He walked rapidly and before long was in Conduit Street, and without stopping to wait for admittance, entered a large yellow house. Two hours later he left and hastened to a telegraph office.
But Stonewell was not the only visitor that day who entered this large yellow house on Conduit Street. For at about eight o'clock that evening a man in civilian garb, wearing a moustache and heavy pointed beard, with a brown slouch hat drawn low over his forehead, and in closely buttoned sack coat, went to the same house, and without hesitation, opened the door by a pass key and passed inside.
CHAPTER XVIII
AN OLD COLORED MAN IS IN TROUBLE
A hop was given that Saturday night at the Armory. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about this hop; it was just like hundreds of its predecessors. As usual, near graduation time, there were many out of town visitors, and it is likely that brass buttons proved attractive to them. Many glad faces were to be seen whirling around, and judging by the happy laughs that were heard everyone was having a jolly time.
Robert Drake had escorted an old friend that night, Miss Nellie Strong. He had seen her card filled up, had presented her partners, and had taken three numbers himself.
"Something is always happening to you, Robert," remarked Nellie as they walked around the room after the second dance. "Now tell me what misadventure you have had this year."
"Not one, Nellie; my bad luck is all over; not one single unpleasant thing has happened to me since I became a first classman."
"What was the occasion of that remarkable disappearance of yours a year ago? Surely you can tell me now; I've never been so curious over anything in my life."
"I've never told anybody about that, neither my father nor Stonewell nor Helen nor anybody else."
"Well, I declare! I don't suppose it amounted to much, anyway. And perhaps you think you're more interesting if you're mysterious. Now, Mr. Robert, tell me something else; why wasn't Harry Blunt with us this afternoon? I asked him and he said you hadn't invited him. Don't you like him, Robert? I think Harry is a nice boy."
"Don't talk to me about Harry Blunt. Let's talk about his sister. Helen is a very good friend of mine, and her father is one of the finest – "
"Robert," suddenly interrupted Nellie, "something is going to happen to you again – that colored man in the doorway motioned to you; just look at him, he's motioning to you now; he wants to speak to you, – oh, I just knew something would happen to you."
"Nonsense. That's old Grice. He's a great old chap. He just wants to see me about something – I'll take you to where Mrs. Blunt is and then go see what he wants."
"What is it, Grice?" asked Robert to the old man at the door, a moment later.
"Sompin' powerful bad, Mistah Drake; I'se feared to talk heah. Can yo' come outside, suh? I'se somef'n mighty bad to tell yo', suh!"
The old darkey shook his head and rolled his eyes, making a grotesque effort to express the worried feelings evidently in his mind.
"Come outside, but hurry. I'm here with some young ladies, and I haven't much time to talk with you."
"No, suh, co'se not. And dem young ladies am pow'ful nice, suh."
"Well, Grice, what is it that you want with me?"
"Well, suh, I doan' know how to tell it. Yo' knows I'se messenger for department of mathmax, doan' yo', Mistah Drake?"
"Of course; what of it?"
"Mistah Drake, suh, will yo' gibe me yor promise as a naval officer an' gemman that yo' won' tell anybody what I'se gwine to say?"
"No, of course I won't."
"Well, suh, a big crime is goin' to be cormitted. An' a pore ole niggah man knows about it an' goes to a young gemman frend of hizn and asks fo' help and can't get none. And the pore ole niggah will be accused an' go to jail. Won' yo' help me, Mistah Drake? Won' yo' help a pore ole niggah what's in trouble?"
"Of course I will, Grice, but I'm not going to promise you to keep secret what you tell me."
"Ef yo' goes roun' talking 'bout what I tells yo' no one will believe me. I'll be bounced, suh, after thirty years heah, an' ef yo' doan' help me a crime will be cormitted and folks will say ole Grice done it. Ain't yo' gwine to help me, Mistah Drake?"
Robert thought for a moment, looking intently at the old negro. The latter talked with great effort. Beads of perspiration burst out on his face. It was evident that Grice was in terror of losing his all and knew not what to do. "Grice, I'll help you if I can," said Robert. "If what you tell me is important I will talk about it to the commandant and to no one else. Now what is it? Be quick."
"Thank yo', suh. Two midshipmen is a-gwine to steal the mathmax zamnation. I wuz sleepin' in the mathmax room last night. My ole woman an' I done hav' a disregard 'bout religion yesterday; she's Zion Baptis' an' I'se Asbury Methodis'. We disregarded so hard that I didn't go home las' night, – co'se 'tain't allowed to sleep in mathmax room, but I done it las' night; well, suh, Mistah Drake, suh, suah as yo' is bawn, suh, it woke me up. Two men came in the mathmax room. The doors wuz all locked; I done that myself; they mus' have had a key made. They come to the desk were the zamnation questions is kep'. They had a light – turned it on, and put somfin' in the key bob of the desk, I seen 'em do it, suh. This morning I fin' wax in keyhole. Zamnations ain't made out yet, but these gemmen will come back with the keys and steal the zamnation – den ole Grice will be 'cused and dismissed – zamnations have been stolen befoah, Mistah Drake, yo' knows it, suh, an' money stolen, an' gen'ally some pore niggah gets dismissed an' half de time it's some pore white trash in midshipman close what does it. Yes, suh, an' – "
"Did you see the faces of these midshipmen, Grice?" interrupted Robert.
"Yes, suh. I done had a good luk at 'em."
"Who were they?"
"Foah de Lawd sake, Mistah Drake, doan' yo' ask me no such questionings," cried out Grice in affrighted tones.
"Do you know the names of those two midshipmen?"
"Yes, suh, Mistah Drake, suh, but I ain't a-gwine to say who they is; ef I tole yo' who they is they would tole yo' Grice prevaricated and Grice would be dismissed. No, suh, I ain't a-gwine to tole yo' who they is, Mistah Drake, suh; yo' done got to catch 'em, suh."
"Grice, I shall tell the commandant what you have told me and he will make you tell him who they are."
"I disremember their names, suh," suddenly replied Grice. "I forgets their names, but I knows 'em; they is midshipmen. Now, Mistah Drake, suh, they will come back, suah they will, suh, an' yo' an' me will be in the mathmax room and catch 'em."
"All right, Grice, I'll help you; but I've got to go now. Call on me if anything new turns up," and Robert returned to the ballroom and soon was with Helen Blunt.
"Robert," she said after a few minutes, "we're awfully worried about Harry; he's been dropping in mathematics and is officially warned that he is in danger of failing at the annual examination. Do you think he will fail?"
"There's but little danger of that, Helen; don't worry; lots of his classmates have been warned and your brother is really bright. He would have high class rank if he studied, and he always does fairly well in examinations. I saw his name posted at the beginning of this month, but you needn't worry; he probably has been boning and no doubt will pass."
"Won't you help him, Robert?" asked Helen in wistful tones; "you know what a terribly sad thing it is to a naval family to have a son fail at Annapolis."
"Wherever and whenever I can. Just bet on that; but your brother and I are not friendly and I'm quite sure he would disdain any help from me."
"Oh, Robert, what did that old colored man want?" cried Nellie Strong, running up.
"Oh," laughed Robert, "he wanted to know who that powerfully pretty girl was that I was with. He said she was the nicest girl on the floor. And then he wanted to know who made that crepe de chine gown you are wearing and – "
"Robert Drake, stop your nonsense, and tell me what that old man wanted," cried Nellie, consumed with curiosity; "are you in some more trouble; are you going to disappear again?"
"What is it, Robert; has anything happened?" inquired Helen, much concerned.
"Nothing much; an old colored man, Grice, who is the sweeper and cleaner of the mathematical department, is in trouble and wanted my advice and help. You see his wife is a Zion Baptist and he's an Asbury Methodist, something like that, and they have 'disregards,' so Grice tells me – "
"Oh, I know old Harriet Grice," interrupted Helen. "She used to cook for us when father was commandant, and every night when she went home she carried with her everything left in the pantry and ice-box. Once when I caught her in the act she said she was taking the stuff to the Zion Church; that it wasn't stealing because she was giving it to the Lord. She and old Grice have terrible rows, in spite of their both being so religious."
Everybody laughed and Nellie Strong was satisfied. Then the music started. "This is ours, Nellie," remarked Robert, and in a moment the two were lost in the crowd.
The next morning after chapel service, Robert spent half an hour with the commandant and related what Grice had told him.
"I'll send for Grice to-morrow," said that officer, "but I doubt if he will disclose the names of the midshipmen, even if he really does know them. These darkeys are remarkably stubborn when they once get a notion in their woolly heads. If Grice is telling a true story we must certainly catch the offenders in the act." The commandant thought for a moment and then continued: "I could post some watchmen about the place, but then the guilty persons might take alarm. If Grice's story is true there is surely a bad pair of midshipmen here, and we must get them and dismiss them."
CHAPTER XIX
THE KIDNAPPERS
Annapolis was full of excitement. It always is at this time of year, and though the town is old, and though graduation scenes have been rehearsed for more than sixty years, still the play is always fresh; young lives are about to go out and do their battle in the world, and friends come to applaud them and to spend a few days with them, and to wish them Godspeed. And so visitors by thousands poured into the ancient city; and the young men of Robert Drake's class had a sense of great importance because it was all to do honor to their graduation, now but a few weeks off.
But it wasn't only at the Naval Academy that important matters were happening at this time; for near Annapolis, events were occurring of tremendous import to a few people, and particularly so to a small, white-faced whimpering boy, seven years old.
Up the Severn River, some little distance before it reaches Round Bay, was an offshoot from the river. This offshoot, a small creek, by devious windings led through a desolate, untenanted, uncultivated, roadless region. Once, in the heyday of slavery, prosperous tobacco fields existed where now there was a dense second growth of trees crowded by a tangled underbrush impenetrable to man unless armed with a hatchet. Here, through an absolute wilderness, inhabited only by coons, squirrels and hares, the little offshoot to the Severn took its unmolested way. No Man's Creek it was called, and well named it was. Not even isolated negroes' cabins were to be seen on its banks, and wild duck in their season, unmolested by the gun, here found a secure place.
But, completely hidden in this creek, disturbing visitors had recently appeared. In one of the sharp turns of No Man's Creek, and completely hidden from view, was a covered gasoline launch. In it were three men and a small, weeping boy.
"We'll start to-night at eleven; it will be dark then, the moon sets at nine; and I'll be glad to have the thing over with. Jingo! I wish we had never done this thing," said one of them, a red-bearded man of uncertain age. "I'm sure no one followed us to Indian Landing; we landed there at a time when nobody was awake. But it was a hard trip from there across lots to this place. I never would have found this spot if I weren't so well acquainted about here. But I wish we could have got out last night – confound that leaky gasoline tank – it dished us at the last moment. But we'll be out to-night sure – it will take us an hour to run by the Naval Academy, and two hours later we'll be across the bay and in Kent Island – once there I'll be easy in my mind; we'll be absolutely safe. And then we'll get ten thousand for our trouble. Stop your crying, Georgie, we're taking you to your father. Hello, Jim, what's that noise? I hear a man shouting!"
The red-bearded man jumped up and out of the boat; he ran up a bank and returned in a moment. "We're caught," he cried hoarsely; "somebody has seen us and has given us away. We'll have to leave instantly – cut the painter! Hurry, start the engine – shove off the boat; we haven't a moment to lose!"
With zeal born of fear and desperation, the three men worked frantically, and very soon the gasoline boat was chugging down the stream. And none too soon, for two men now standing near where the gasoline boat had been secured were shouting for them to return. With pallid faces the three men confronted one another.
"What is to be done?" asked one.
"Let's land somewhere on Round Bay shore, turn the kid adrift and run," ventured a second one. "We'll be caught in this boat; our only hope is to separate and each of us try to get away by himself."
"We'll do nothing of the kind," retorted the red-bearded man; "we will stick to this boat; we'll follow the original programme. What chance would I have? That chap saw me plainly and everybody in six counties would look for a man with red whiskers. No, sir! Those two men are left on the shore; they are miles from a telephone; we'll be halfway across Chesapeake Bay before they can communicate with anybody, and there are so many launches in the Severn River that we won't be noticed. That's the only thing to do, fellows."
"It's twenty years in prison if we're caught," remarked one with a gasp.