Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast Part 19

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"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 s.h.i.+p 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 ash.o.r.e and try our luck here."

This was what they were obliged to do, whether or no, for the s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sage 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 quant.i.ty 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 pa.s.sage 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "BONNY SEIZED A TRUCK, AND ALARIC A MATTRESS"]

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 s.h.i.+pped 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 s.h.i.+ning, 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.

"s.h.i.+rking, 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

"h.e.l.lo, 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 polis.h.i.+ng bra.s.s. They kept me at it every minute until we got here, and then fired me ash.o.r.e."

"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?"

Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast Part 19

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Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast Part 19 summary

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