Read Ebook: Cringle and cross-tree by Optic Oliver

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Ebook has 1677 lines and 55174 words, and 34 pages

"That may be; but he wants the money."

I inquired into the matter a little more closely, and found the land was that which had ruined Mr. Charles Whippleton, and which he had deeded to Mr. Collingsby in settlement for the deficiencies in his accounts. It was a fraud on the face of it, and I explained the matter to Mr. Lamar so far as I understood it; but I could not see myself in what manner Waterford expected to convey the property, since he had already deeded it to Whippleton. The two speculators had owned the land together, but Waterford had conveyed his share to Whippleton, who was to pay ten thousand dollars from his ill-gotten gains for the deed, when they ran away together. I had prevented them from running away together, and Mr. Whippleton from running away at all; consequently, the ten thousand dollars had never been paid, though the deed had been duly signed and recorded. The property had since been mortgaged to Mr. Collingsby, who held it at the present time.

It appeared that Waterford had given the deed, but had not received the payment. He was sore on the point, and claimed that the deed for his share of the land was null and void, and that he had a right to sell it again. He had borrowed the money to enable him to purchase it, and the debts thus contracted had caused his failure. But I do not propose to follow Waterford in his land speculations, and I need only say that he was engaged in an attempt to swindle my friend. My statement opened the eyes of Mr. Lamar, and he investigated the matter. Once more I was a stumbling-block in the path of Ben Waterford.

On the day the steamer in which I had engaged my passage to Pittsburg was to sail, I called upon Mr. Lamar again; for I was curious to know the result of the business. Waterford had been to see him again, and the negotiation had been summarily closed. I was thankful for the opportunity of saving one of my friends from loss; for Waterford was a very plausible man, and had grown reckless by misfortune. I had no doubt Mr. Whippleton, who was now in business in Cincinnati, was concerned in the affair.

I bade adieu to all my friends in St. Louis. Mrs. Greenough cried heartily when I took leave of her, and declared that she never expected to see me again, I was going away so many thousand miles. My father went with me to the steamer, and gave me much good advice, which I gratefully treasured up. I found my state-room, and having placed my trunk in it, I spent my last hour in St. Louis in talking with my father. I hoped to bring my mother there in a few months. With a hearty shake of the hand we parted, when the steamer backed out from the levee.

I went to my room then, for I wanted to be alone. I was going away on a long journey, and upon my mission seemed to hang all the joys of life. I prayed to God for strength to be true to the principles in which I had been so faithfully instructed, and that our little family might soon be reunited, after a separation of about sixteen years. I thought of the past, and recalled all the friends who had been kind to me. The Gracewoods were uppermost in my thoughts; for they were among the first who had loved me. To Mr. Gracewood I owed my education, and he had taken pains to give me high principles, upon which to found my life-structure. Ella Gracewood, whom I had saved from the Indians, was an angel in my thoughts. She was beautiful to look upon, though it was four years since I had seen her. She was seventeen now, and my imagination was active in picturing her as she had become during this long absence.

Ella Gracewood was something more than a dream to me; she was a reality. I had the pleasant satisfaction of knowing that she had not forgotten me; for I had received an occasional letter from her, in which she reviewed the stirring scenes of the past, and spoke hopefully of meeting me again at no distant period in the future. I took from my pocket a letter which had come to me from her father only a few days before, and which had given direction, in part, to my thoughts at the present time. The family had passed the winter in Rome, and intended to sail for home about the last of April. Mr. Gracewood had a friend who was in command of a ship which was to sail for New York at this time from Messina, and he had decided to come with him. The ship was the Bayard, Captain Allyn.

I expected to reach Nice by the middle of April, and after I had found my mother, I intended to go to Rome, where I should arrive before the Gracewoods departed for home. The prospect was very pleasant and very satisfactory. I pictured to myself the joy of meeting Ella in that far-off land, and of wandering with her among the glorious relics of the past, and the grand creations of the present. I was sorry to leave my father, but I was very happy in what the future seemed to have in store for me.

From these reflections I passed to more practical ones. I opened my trunk, and looked over its contents, in order to satisfy myself that I had forgotten nothing. I had with me all the letters which Ella had ever written to me, and I had read each of them at least a score of times, weighing and measuring every sentence, the better to assure myself that she had a sincere and true regard for me. I wondered whether she read my letters with the same degree of interest. I could hardly persuade myself that she did. I found myself troubled with a kind of vague suspicion that her regard was nothing more than simple gratitude because I had rescued her from the hands of the Indians. However, I could only hope that this sentiment had begotten a more satisfactory one in her heart.

From these lofty thoughts and aspirations my mind descended to those as material as earth itself--to the yellow dross for which men sell soul and body, of which I had an abundant supply in my trunk. I had fifteen hundred dollars in gold, with which I intended to purchase a letter of credit in New York, to defray my expenses in Europe. Being a young man of eighteen, I was not willing to rest my hopes upon drafts and inland bills of exchange, or anything which was a mere valueless piece of paper. I left nothing to contingencies, and determined to give no one an opportunity to dispute a signature, or to wonder how a boy of my age came by a draft for so large a sum. Gold is substantial, and does not entail any doubts. If the coin was genuine, there was no room for a peradventure or a dispute. In spite of the risk of its transportation, I felt safer with the yellow dross in my trunk than I should with a draft in my pocket.

I had fifteen hundred dollars in gold in a bag, deposited beneath my clothing. I counted it over, to see that it was all right. I had also the relics of my childhood in my trunk, for I expected to see my mother, and I wanted the evidence to convince her that I was what I claimed to be, if the sight of my face did not convince her. Besides my gold, I had about a hundred dollars in cash in my pocket, to pay my expenses before I sailed from New York. I felt that I was provided with everything which could be required to accomplish my great mission in Europe.

Fortunately I had a state-room all to myself, so that I had no concern about the treasure in my trunk. I remained in my room the greater part of the time; for from the open door I could see the scenery on the banks of the river. I assured myself every day that my valuables were safe, and I believe I read Ella's letters every time I opened the trunk. The steamer went along very pleasantly, and in due time arrived at Cincinnati. As she was to remain here several hours, I took a walk through some of the principal streets, and saw the notables of the city. When I went on board again, I bought a newspaper. The first thing that attracted my attention in the news columns was the announcement of a heavy forgery in the name of Lamar & Co. Two banks where the firm did their business had each paid a check, one of six and the other of four thousand dollars. No clew to the forger had been obtained. This was all the information the paper contained in regard to the matter; but as the banks, and not my friend Mr. Lamar, would be the losers, I did not think any more of the subject.

Before the boat started, I assured myself that my trunk had not been robbed in my absence. The bag was safe. At Cincinnati many of the passengers from St. Louis had left the boat, and many new faces appeared. I looked around to see if I knew any one on board. I did not find any one, though, as I walked along the gallery near my room, I saw a gentleman who had a familiar look; but I did not obtain a fair glance at his face. I thought it was Mr. Ben Waterford; but he had no beard, while my Chicago friend had worn a pair of heavy whiskers. I kept a sharp lookout for this individual during the rest of the day, but, strange as it may seem, I did not see him again.

Mr. Ben Waterford had no reason for avoiding me, and if he had he was too brazen to do anything of the kind. I concluded that I had been mistaken; for I could not find him at the table, in the cabin, or on the boiler deck. When I had seen the gentleman whom I supposed to be Mr. Ben Waterford, he was on the point of entering a state-room adjoining my own. I went to the clerk, and found against the number of the room the name of "A. McGregor;" and he was the only person in the room. I heard the creak of his berth when he got into it that night, and I heard his footsteps in the morning. In the course of the next day I inquired about Mr. A. McGregor, but no one knew him.

I watched the door of the room, but no one came out or went in. I only wanted to know whether Mr. A. McGregor was Mr. Ben Waterford with his whiskers shaved off; but that gentleman failed to gratify my reasonable curiosity, though I worked myself up to a very high pitch of excitement over the subject. I was determined to see his face again, if possible, and very likely I might have succeeded under ordinary circumstances; but a startling catastrophe intervened to disappoint me.

On the day after we left Cincinnati, towards evening, I was sitting on the gallery, when, without any warning whatever, I heard a tremendous crash, and felt the steamer breaking in pieces beneath me. I had seen a boat coming down the river a moment before, and I quickly concluded that the two steamers had run into each other.

I realized that the steamer was settling under me. Ladies were shrieking, and even some gentlemen were doing the same thing. I rushed into my state-room, intent upon saving my gold and my relics. I had taken out the key of my trunk, when I heard the door of the adjoining room open. I glanced towards the gallery, and saw Mr. A. McGregor flash past the door. He looked like Mr. Ben Waterford; but I was not confident it was he. Before I could use my key, the disabled steamer rolled over on one side, and the water rose into the gallery, and even entered my state-room.

IN WHICH PHIL GOES EAST, AND MEETS CAPTAIN FARRADAY.

I did not object, and I believe everybody else was equally reasonable. I heard a burly gentleman swearing at the pilot for the collision in broad daylight, without a fog or even a mist to excuse him. I do not know whose fault it was, and not being an accident commissioner, I did not investigate the circumstances attending the collision. I only know that no lives were lost, though a great deal of heavy freight on the main deck and in the hold was badly damaged. The crew, and a few of the passengers who happened to be below, were subjected to a cold bath; but I have not heard that any one took cold on account of it.

After a few minutes, some of the gentlemen seemed to consider the calamity a rather pleasant variation of the monotony of the trip, and not a few of the ladies to regard themselves as the heroines of a disaster. The floor of the saloon was still dry and comfortable, though it had an inclination of about thirty degrees from its proper horizontal position, and therefore was not comfortable for ladies to walk upon.

The steamer which had caused the mischief had not been disabled. She had run her solid bow into the quarter of the other, and stove in the side of the hull. She ran alongside the wreck, and the passengers were able to step on board of her without wetting a foot, or even crossing a plank. I took my trunk on my shoulder, and effected a safe retreat, inspired by the same wisdom which induces all rats to desert a sinking ship, and especially one already sunk. Myself, my trunk, and my treasure were safe. I was happy in the result, and doubly so because all my fellow-passengers were equally fortunate. I am sure, if a single life had been sacrificed, I should not have been happy. As it was, I was disposed to be jolly.

I put my trunk in a safe place in the cabin of the steamer which had made the mischief, and turned my attention to the people and the events around me. I found a lone woman, who insisted upon being very much distressed, when there was not the least occasion for any such display of feminine weakness. She had saved herself, but had not saved her baggage, which the deck hands were transferring from the sunken boat with all possible expedition. The lady was sure her trunk would go to the bottom; but when she had told me the number of her room, I conveyed it to the cabin, and placed it above my own. The lady was happy then, and twenty-five per cent. was added to my own felicity by her present peace of mind. She sat down upon her trunk, and did not seem disposed to abandon it. As in watching her own she could not well help watching mine, which was beneath it, and finding it so well guarded, I left the place, and went on the hurricane-deck to take a survey of the lost craft.

In this elevated locality a violent discussion between the two captains and the two pilots of the steamers was in progress. The representatives of each boat blamed those of the other. I listened with interest, but not with edification, for I could not ascertain from anything that was said which of the two was the more to blame. Each pilot had mistaken the intention of the other, and probably both had become rather reckless from long experience. I had often noticed on the Mississippi and the Ohio, as well as in other places, that pilots are disposed to run their boats as close as possible to other boats, when there is not the least necessity for doing so. There is a kind of excitement in going as near as possible without hitting. Men and boys, in driving horses, are apt to be governed by the same principle, and laugh at the timid reinsman who gives a wide berth to the vehicle he encounters.

I have had considerable experience now, and I have come to the conclusion that it is always best to keep on the safe side. It is folly to incur useless risks; and as a venerable young man of twenty-eight, I would rather be laughed at for going a good way to avoid even a possible peril than be applauded for making "a close shave." It is criminal vanity to run into danger for the sake of the excitement of such a situation, and people who do it are not really courageous. On the contrary, it is cowardly in the moral sense, for the person is not brave enough to face a smile or a word of ridicule.

One or both of these pilots had been trying to make "a close shave," where the river was broad enough for them to keep their boats a quarter of a mile apart. If the loss of the boat and the damage to the freight had fallen upon them alone, it would have served them right; but I doubt whether either of them even lost his situation. One boat was smashed and sunk, the other was not much injured. It was a pity that the loss could not have been equally divided between the two; but as it could not be so, of course the captain who had lost his boat was much the more uncomfortable of the two.

I listened to the profitless discussion till I was tired of it, and examined the position of the sunken boat. I should have been very glad to take the job of raising her, if I had not had a mission before me. Leaving the excited little group on the hurricane-deck, I went down into the saloon again. The old lady was still seated on her trunk and mine, and I continued my walk around the steamer. I wanted to see Mr. A. McGregor again; indeed, I was in search of him, for I had made up my mind that he was Mr. Ben Waterford, though I could not see why he was so particular to keep out of my way. Of course I was not sure that the gentleman was my Chicago acquaintance. The lack of a beard on the face of Mr. A. McGregor was an argument against the truth of the supposition; but the form, and as near as I could judge from a single glance, the features, were those of Mr. Waterford.

I could not find him. The passengers were continually moving about the galleries and saloons, and if he was trying to avoid me, he could easily do so. But why should Mr. Ben Waterford wish to avoid me? He did not love me, I knew. I could even understand why he should hate me. If he had met me face to face, abused me and worried me, kicked me, tripped me up in the dark, or pushed me into the river, I might have explained his conduct. I had seen him in St. Louis, and he had greeted me very pleasantly. Now he shunned me, if I was not mistaken in the person. My best efforts failed to afford me a fair view of his face. I had become quite interested, not to say excited, about the matter, and I was determined, if possible, to solve the mystery of Mr. A. McGregor.

As soon as the steamer alongside had taken on board all the passengers, and all the baggage that was above water, she started for Marietta. Those who wished to land at this town, and wait for another steamer, did so; but most of them continued in the boat to Parkersburg, where they took the train immediately on their arrival for Baltimore. As this latter arrangement would enable me to see Baltimore, I concluded to go with the majority, for I was afraid I might be detained three or four days on the river. We arrived just in time to take a night train, and I received a check for my trunk. As soon as the cars were in motion, I passed through all of them in search of Mr. A. McGregor. If he was on the train, I should have a chance to see him where he could not dodge me, and if he proved to be my old yachting friend, I was determined to speak to him, and ascertain where he was going.

Mr. A. McGregor was not on the train. I had missed him somewhere, for in my anxiety for my baggage I had not thought of him till I took my place in the car. He had either stopped at Marietta, or remained in Parkersburg. But after all, I was actuated only by curiosity. I had no special interest either in Mr. A. McGregor or Mr. Ben Waterford. Whoever he was, if I had not imagined that he wished to avoid me, I should not have bothered my head about him. However, we had parted company now, and I was willing to drop the matter, though I was no wiser than at first.

I arrived at Baltimore the next day, astonished and delighted at the beautiful scenery of the Potomac, along whose banks the train passed. My trunk was delivered to me, and I went to a small hotel, where the expense for a day would not ruin me. I was in a strange city, but one of which I had heard a great deal, and I was anxious to see the lions at once. I opened my trunk, and having satisfied myself that my bag of gold was safe, I did not stop to open it, but hastened up Baltimore Street, intent upon using my limited time in the city to the best advantage.

The next day I went to Philadelphia, remaining there a day, and left for New York, only sorry that my great mission would not allow me to remain longer. I was excited all the time by the wonders that were continually presented to me. I was not "green" now, but I was interested in new objects and new scenes, both in the cities and on the routes between them.

On the ferry-boat from Amboy I met a plain-looking man, and a question which I asked him, in regard to a vessel in the bay, opened the way to a longer conversation. He was dressed in blue clothes, and by the manner in which he spoke of the vessel, I concluded that he was a sailor. He criticised rigging and hull with so many technicalities that I was bewildered by his speech. He answered my questions with much good-nature; and when I found he was going to the Western Hotel, I decided to go there with him. Rooms adjoining each other were assigned to us, and we went down to dinner together. I saw by the register that his name was Farraday, and the hotel clerk called him captain. When he ascertained that I was a stranger in the city, he seemed to take an interest in me, and very kindly told me some things worth knowing.

"Do you remain long in New York, Captain Farraday?" I asked, pleased with my new acquaintance, though his breath smelled rather strong of whiskey, which was the only thing I disliked about him.

"No; I mean to be off to-morrow. I expect my mate to-day, and we are all ready to sail," he replied. "I am going on board this afternoon. Perhaps you would like to see my vessel."

"Very much indeed, sir."

"We will go down after dinner."

I wanted to go on board of a sea-going vessel, and I was delighted with the opportunity.

IN WHICH PHIL VISITS THE BARK MICHIGAN, AND LOOKS AFTER HIS FINANCES.

"I believe you said you came from the west," said Captain Farraday; and we walked down to the North River, where his vessel lay.

"Yes, sir; I was born in St. Louis, but have lived a great portion of my life on the Upper Missouri."

"I don't know that I have heard your name yet."

"Philip Farringford, sir."

"Do you ever take anything, Mr. Farringford?"

"Take anything?" I replied, puzzled by the question.

"Anything to drink."

"No, sir; I never drink anything stronger than tea and coffee."

"That's the safest plan; but we old sailors can't get along without a little whiskey. Won't you have a drop?"

"No, I thank you. I never drank a drop in my life, and I don't think I shall begin now."

"Will you excuse me a moment, then?" he added, halting before a drinking-shop.

"Certainly, Captain Farraday," I answered; but I confess that I excused him against my own will and wish.

I stood on the sidewalk while he entered the shop and imbibed his dram.

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