The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER X. A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE

  The inhabitants of the peaceful town of Southport would have viewed theold haunted house with more concern than ever if they had known of thefour ghosts that haunted it now, by day and night. They were stalwart,able-bodied looking ghosts, and their habits were strangely like whatmight have been expected of four live men. Sometimes, as they sat in oneof the front garret rooms, by a window that overlooked the town and thewhole expanse of the cove lying between it and the bluff, as well as thebay beyond, a well-worn pack of cards was produced by one of the spirits,and the four joined in a game. Or, again, a bag was brought forth, andthe spirits ate heartily of the contents thereof.

  It might have been noticed, too, that through it all a certain carefulvigilance on the part of the ghosts was observed, as though they fearedthat if surprised by a chance visitor they would have some trouble invanishing.

  Every few minutes throughout the day they made by turns a careful surveyof the cove and also of the bay, sweeping it with a powerful field-glass.No more than two of the ghosts ever took their sleep at the same time,and that, too, during the day. When night came they all redoubled theirvigilance and remained awake and alert. As darkness shut down they leftthe house, one of them going out on the bluff and hiding in a cleft ofthe rock, where he could overlook the cove and the bay, the others hidingin the woods near the house, and keeping watch on all its approaches.

  They were very patient and very careful; for two of them, who would haveanswered to the names of Burton and Mason, knew that the men for whomthey watched, and who they knew would surely come within a brief timenow, were the men for whom they had hunted for years, and by whosecapture they should win other rewards and settle scores of long standing.

  Curiously enough, for the next two days and nights a perfect contagion ofwatching seemed to have spread through the village. Mr. Kemble, as he wasknown to all, was a most annoyed man, and concealed his annoyance onlywith difficulty. If, by chance, he hobbled up the road of an afternoon,and wandered off into the woods or fields, he was sure to come upon someone of the boys, who seemed surprised enough to see him, and was sure toremain with him till he returned to the hotel.

  If he hired a horse and went up the island for a drive, he was sure tofall in most unexpectedly with Henry Burns, spinning along on his wheel,and could not shake him off. If he felt strong enough to get into arowboat and start out, weakly, across the cove, groaning at the effort itcost him, he invariably fell in with Tom and Bob, gliding along quietlyin their canoe, and they would insist on accompanying him, and pointingout to him the beauties of the scenery along the shores.

  He would have considered far more seriously the attention they paid tohis movements by night, if he had but known of them. If he could haveseen six pairs of eyes, striving to discern him as he appeared on thehotel roof, or have known of the youths who watched lest he cross thecove under cover of night, to say nothing of those who awaited his comingon the bluff itself, he might have worried more than he did, and perhapshave played a shrewder game.

  But neither did he nor any one else, other than they who watched, know ofit. And so it was that when, a little before sunset on the third dayafter the arrival of the ghosts in the haunted house, and while Mr.Kemble sat on the front piazza of the hotel, looking through afield-glass off on to the bay, admiring its beauties with Mrs. Carlin,who thought him such an unfortunate man,--and while, as he looked, he sawthe very yacht for which he had waited anxiously for days, he surelybelieved that there was no one in the village who would regard it withother than the usual curiosity that fishermen and yachtsmen have for astrange craft.

  In this, unfortunately for him, he was mistaken. There were othersbesides him who, on seeing the sail emerge from between the islands,regarded it with equal interest and even more excitement. Henry Burns,being deeply interested in it, came and sat down beside Mrs. Carlin longenough to hear Mr. Kemble remark that he believed the yacht was the_Eagle_, with his friends; in which case he should spend the night aboardwith them, and leave the harbour early in the morning, if the windavailed.

  Henry Burns then quietly took his departure, sauntering along until somecottages shut him out from the view of the hotel, and then starting offon a run as hard as ever he could toward the Warren cottage. He pausedlong enough at the cottage to communicate the news to young Joe, who wasthe first one he met, and then, calling out that he would return asquickly as he could, he ran through the woods down to the shore.

  Going up the cove some distance, Henry Burns launched a rowboat andpulled rapidly across, landing some ways above the bluff. Then he struckdown through the woods for the haunted house.

  When Henry Burns returned a few minutes later, two of the detectives werewith him. The three rowed across the cove and proceeded to the Warrencottage. There the plan of operation, as it had been mapped out by MilesBurton, was told by Henry Burns. Burton and Mason were to make the arrestat the haunted house. It was extremely unlikely that more than two of therobbers would come for the box of jewels,--perhaps Craigie alone. At allevents, the detectives would take chances against more than two coming,and, if the three came, it would make no difference to them. They wouldtake them all by surprise, and could arrest a dozen if necessary. If twoof the boys chose to go over to the bluff, they could do so, but MilesBurton would not advise them to take the risk.

  The other two detectives were to wait in boats for the man who should beleft in the yacht, and arrest him at the proper time. If any of the boyschose to accompany these men, they could do so at their risk, but MilesBurton had sent warning for them to take no chances. Needless to say, hisadvice on this score was thrown away. He might as well have advised theboys not to breathe till it was all over. Their blood was up, and theywere one and all determined to take part in the capture.

  So it was decided that Bob and Henry Burns and George should go over tothe bluff; that Tom and one of the detectives should take the canoe andlie in the shadow of the shore, in wait near the tent; while Arthur andJoe, with the other detective, should go around the bluff in a rowboat,on a pretence of fishing, and lie in concealment there behind the rocks.

  During all this time the yacht, a white-hulled, sloop-rigged, trimvessel, was rapidly nearing the village. It came in fast, with asoutheasterly breeze astern, which blew fresh and which bade fair not todie down with the setting of the sun. The yacht attracted some attentionamong the people of the town, where fishing-boats were more commonly seenthan elegant pleasure-craft. Its topmast was uncommonly tall, and theclub topsail, which was still set, was somewhat larger than usual in acraft of its burden. In fact, it was apparent to the experienced eyethat, with all its light sails set, the yacht would be enveloped in aperfect cloud of canvas. It carried two jibs, besides the forestaysail,but these were now furled.

  "That craft carries sail enough to beat the _Flying Dutchman_," saidCaptain Sam, who had joined the group on the veranda that was watchingthe graceful yacht coming in, with a tiny froth of foam at its bows."Looks as though she could stand up under it, though. Seems to be prettystiff."

  "Yes, she is considered pretty fast," assented Mr. Kemble. "She has takena few races around Boston and Marblehead way, against some yachts thatcarried even more sail. She belongs to a friend of mine, a Mr. Brooks ofBoston. He's a broker there, and can afford to have as fast a craft asthere is made."

  "Fast!" returned Captain Sam. "Any one can see that with half an eye.Give her five minutes start, and nothing in this bay could ever comewithin hailing-distance of her again."

  Captain Sam little knew the relief and satisfaction that his remarkafforded Mr. Kemble.

  "She won't want all that sail to-morrow, though," continued Captain Sam."The wind is coming around to the eastward for a storm of some kind.Looks more like rain than wind, but there will be wind, too,--enough todo all the sailing any one wants. You say you'll sail to-morrow, do you,Mr. Kemble, rain or shine? Well, that boat will stand it all right. Shelooks as tho
ugh she would just like a good blow, and nothing better."

  If Mr. Kemble knew of any instances where the yacht _Eagle_, alias _TheCloud_, alias _Fortune_, had proved her marvellous speed to the chagrinof certain officers of the law, and had demonstrated her ability to runaway from pursuers in both light and heavy weather, he refrained, forreasons best known to himself, from mentioning them. He gave, instead, aquiet assent to the truth of Captain Sam's praise.

  While tea was being served at the hotel, the yacht entered the cove, and,rounding to gracefully with a little shower of spray, dropped anchorabout midway between the wharf and the bluff opposite. The sails werefurled, with, strangely enough, the exception of the mainsail, which wasnot even lowered. She would doubtless drop this sail later, unless, byany chance, she should decide to put out again during the night.

  The men who had brought the yacht across the bay did not come ashore. Athin column of smoke that presently wreathed out of a funnel in the cabinindicated that the yachtsmen were cooking a meal in the galley aboard.

  They were thorough yachtsmen, Mr. Kemble explained, as he paid his billand said good-bye to Colonel Witham and Mrs. Carlin. They hardly everleft the yacht, he said, except to buy provisions, or some other errandof necessity. Mr. Kemble did not specify what other errands of necessityhe had in mind.

  The colonel saw just how it was, he said. He was sorry, moreover, to loseMr. Kemble as a guest. In fact, he was the kind of guest that just suitedthe colonel, as he went early to bed, minded his own business, and wasquiet. Good qualities in a summer boarder, in the colonel's estimation.

  There was no one to bid Mr. Kemble good-bye, save the colonel and Mrs.Carlin, as he had made few acquaintances. Henry Burns would have bid hima pleasant voyage if he had been there, but Henry Burns was not to befound.

  "He will be sorry not to have been here to say good-bye to you," Mrs.Carlin explained, politely. "He often expressed the greatest sympathy foryour lameness. I cannot imagine where he is, and he has had no supper,either."

  "Bright boy, bright boy, that," responded Mr. Kemble. "Lives just out ofBoston, does he? Must look him and his aunt up this fall, and see if Ican't get my friend, Brooks, the broker, interested in him. Well,good-bye," and, hobbling away, quite briskly for him, Mr. Kemble followeda boy who carried his satchel down to the wharf, and was rowed out to theyacht. A voice from the cabin bade him welcome, and he disappeared downthe companionway.

  Early that evening, and shortly after Mr. Kemble had gone aboard the_Eagle_, for such was the name painted freshly in gilt on the yacht'sstern, Miles Burton and the three boys, Bob, Henry Burns, and George,held a consultation in the shadow of the woods near the haunted house.Mason, in the meantime, was hidden near the head of the rickety oldstairs at the landing on the bluff, watching for any movement aboard the_Eagle_.

  Miles Burton's commands were brief and explicit. "There is an old closetin the cellar," he said, "just about opposite where the box was buried.Mason and I will hide there. We have oiled the hinges of the door so thatit moves noiselessly. You boys better keep close here in the woods tillyou hear from us. Then you can make as much noise as you want to and comein at the capture. There ought not to be so very much excitement aboutit, for we shall have them before they know what's the matter."

  It certainly seemed as though the detective could not be mistaken, butthe sequel would show.

  Mason remained at his post, and Miles Burton and the boys sat together inthe shadow of the woods. It was wearisome waiting, and there was achilliness in the night air which had crept into it with the east wind.When eleven o'clock had come and the moon should have shone over thecape, a bank of clouds drifted up just ahead of it and half-obscured itslight. As the moon arose these clouds drifted higher in the sky, stilljust preceding it, and the heavens grew but little brighter. Still it wasnot absolutely dark, for most of the stars were as yet unhidden.

  Twelve o'clock came, and then one, and then a half-hour went by. At justhalf-past one o'clock by the detective's watch they saw the figure ofMason stealing swiftly up the path.

  "It's time to make ready now," he said to Burton, as he joined the party."They'll be at the landing soon. As near as I can make out, there'sChambers and French, besides Craigie. It's the men we want all right.Chambers is rowing, and he will probably stay in the boat while the othertwo come ashore."

  Then, bidding the boys to preserve the utmost silence, the two detectivesleft them, and a moment later the boys saw them disappear through thedoorway of the haunted house.

  There was little need of warning the boys to make no noise. From what thedetectives had said, they knew that the men they had to deal with weredesperate adventurers, who would not balk at any means to escape capture.

  So they lay close in the underbrush and peered through the trees downtoward the landing. The night was still, save for the rustling of a lightwind through the trees. The breeze had held through, as Captain Sam hadprophesied, though it had abated somewhat, ready, however, to increasewith the next turn of the tide a few hours later.

  They could hear noises across in the village: a solitary cart rattlingalong the country road, the tinkle of a distant cow-bell in a pasture,and here and there a dog barking. Presently the sound of oars grinding inthe rowlocks came to their ears, and a few moments later the sound of aboat gently grating on the edge of the stone landing. There was as yet nosound of voices.

  "Whew!" muttered Bob White. "This waiting here for something to happengives me a creepy feeling. I only wish we knew that they weren't armed tothe teeth and could only pitch in and run the risk of a good fight. I'dlike to try a good football tackle, just to keep my nerves from going topieces."

  "I wouldn't care much to be waiting for them down in that cellar," saidHenry Burns. "They're likely to prove ugly customers when they findthemselves trapped,--but I'll risk Miles Burton to keep his head. He'sthe kind of man for this sort of thing--"

  "Sh-h-h," interrupted George Warren, softly. "I hear their voices.There's two of them, I think, talking. Yes, here they come. Lie low,now."

  A head appeared at the top of the ladder, and then a man sprang up on tothe brow of the bluff. It was the man whom they had known as Mr. Kemble,but whom they now knew as Craigie. He was followed by another man,somewhat taller than he.

  The two came up the path together, talking earnestly. At a certain pointin the path they paused, and Craigie stepped aside and found the spadewhere he had hidden it in the brush. Then they went on toward the hauntedhouse. The boys' hearts beat fast and hard as the men passed close bywhere they lay hidden. Surely two men who would lie in wait in the oldhouse for these two must possess good nerve and courage. For the boys'part, they were glad to be outside.

  "Listen," whispered Henry Burns, softly; "the tall one is downright angrywith our friend Kemble. He's pitching into him for something."

  It was evident that Craigie's newly arrived friend was in a bad humour.He spoke angrily, and no longer in a low tone, but gruff and loud enoughto be heard some distance away.

  "What a fool you must have been, Craigie," they heard him say, "to hidethe jewels away in this tumble-down old place, when you could have hiddenthem well enough on your own person. It's all well enough to say they'resafer here, but such an act might have attracted attention."

  "It might," whispered Henry Burns.

  "And here we are," continued the tall man, "fooling away our time in thisoutlandish hole, climbing ledges and stumbling through woods, when weought to be out in the middle of the bay by this time, clear of thisplace. There was the wind, holding on through the night, just opportunefor us, and all you needed to do was to step aboard, if you had beenready, and off we should have gone, without dropping a sail."

  "Well, well, French," answered Craigie, impatiently, but trying tomollify his companion, "we've got time enough. Don't worry about that.You would have blamed me bad enough if the jewels had been found on me.Supposing I had had to tell you they'd been stolen, what would you havedone? Would you have believed it, or would you say I
had stolen them fromyou myself?"

  "Believe it!" cried the other. "Why, you know I wouldn't believe it. Iknow you too well for that. What would I do? What would Ed Chambers do? Itell you what we would do. After that job,--after coming way down herefor you,--why, man, we'd hunt you to the end of the earth, if you gotaway with those jewels, but we'd have you and the jewels, too."

  With this angry utterance, the tall man laid a heavy hand on the other'sshoulder.

  "Nonsense, man," returned the other, impatiently, shaking off his grasp."What a way to talk about nothing. You're in a precious bad humour, seemsto me. You know right well I wouldn't go back on you and Ed."

  "I know nothing of the sort," snarled the other "I know you, I tell you.I know you left us when things got hot, and took the jewels that werisked our necks for. Don't I know that we shouldn't have seen or heardof you again till we had hunted for you--which we would have done--ifthat man Mason hadn't got so close up on to you that you didn't dare tryto get out of here alone."

  "Well, have it so, have it so, then, since you are bound to quarrel,"said Craigie, sullenly; and the boys heard no more. The two men passedbeyond hearing and entered the haunted house.

  "I don't intend to miss this," whispered Henry Burns, for once thoroughlyexcited. "There's going to be the worst kind of trouble when that bigblack-looking fellow finds the box gone. Burton's going to let them digfor it--he told me so. Said he was curious to see what they would do."

  "Rather he would have that sort of fun than I," said Bob. "It's a gooddeal like watching a keg of powder blow up. I say we'd better stay righthere, as Burton advised, till we hear from them. We might upset the wholething."

  "I don't mind saying I'm scared clear down to my boots," said George,"but I'm going to see the thing through. I'll go if you will, Henry."

  So the two left Bob in the woods, close by the path to the shore, andcrept up on their hands and knees to that same cellar window throughwhich they had before witnessed the hiding of the box.

  By the light of a lantern placed on the cellar floor they saw the twomen. Craigie had removed his coat, and was digging in the earth where hehad hidden the box. He worked vigorously, throwing up spadefuls of thesoil with quick, nervous jerks. His tall companion looked on with anexpression of mingled anger and contempt on his face.

  As the box failed to come to light after some minutes of hard work, thedrops of perspiration stood out in great beads on Craigie's face, and heredoubled his efforts with the spade.

  "It's down deeper than I thought I buried it," he muttered, with a sortof nervous laugh.

  "You're a fool!" was all the other said.

  "Have it so," said Craigie, and resumed his work.

  The man was troubled, although he scarcely dared admit it, even tohimself. He had already dug far deeper than he had before, and yet nosigns of the box. The spade trembled slightly in his hands. He widenedthe hole and dug furiously.

  "Going to dig over the whole cellar, I suppose," sneered the other, andclenched his fists nervously.

  Craigie did not reply. Perhaps the truth was beginning to dawn on hismind, for he half-paused and cast a quick, anxious glance at hiscompanion. His face was ghastly white in the dim lantern light. Hecontinued his digging.

  All at once he uttered a cry. The boys, staring in with faces close tothe window-pane, saw the tall man leap forward and deal him a heavy blow.

  "Do you think I am tricked by you?" he cried. "You know it isn't there.You knew it all the time. But you don't fool me. You don't escape toenjoy it."

  Craigie reeled under the blow and staggered back against the wall. If theother had followed up his advantage instantly, the fight must have beenhis; but one moment was enough for his companion. Still grasping thespade, he struck out with it as the man French rushed upon him again, andthe other, receiving the full force of the blow, fell to the floor.

  The next instant, without waiting to see whether his companion were deador alive, Craigie shattered the lantern with a single blow and darted forthe cellar stairs. At the same moment the detectives threw open the doorand rushed out into the cellar. They were just too late. One man, indeed,lay unconscious at their feet, but the other had already reached thecellar stairs, and was at the outer door in a moment more.

  Down in the woods, by the path to the landing, Bob saw a sight that sentthe hot blood to his cheeks. He had heard shots from the cellar, fired bythe detectives after the fleeing Craigie, and wondered what they meant.Now, to his dismay, he saw Craigie at full speed flying along the pathtoward him.

  He scrambled to his feet, though his heart beat furiously, and hetrembled so that for a moment he clung to a tree for support. Then hethought of Tom, and it gave him courage. Standing as he had stood oftenbefore on the football field at home, when, as right tackle, he had savedmany a goal, he waited breathlessly. Then as Craigie dashed up, he sprangout, tackled him about the legs, and the two fell heavily to the ground.

  He was half-stunned by the fall, but he had breath enough to cry forhelp, and clung like a drowning man to his antagonist. Well for him thenthat, in his flight, Craigie had dropped the weapon he carried. Theyrolled over and over for a moment, and then the man had Bob in his grasp.

  "Let me go!" he cried, fiercely. "Let me go, I say!" Bob felt hisstrength going, as the powerful arms tightened about him.

  All at once, however, the other's grasp loosened. Craigie felt himselfborne backward, as two boyish figures rushed out of the darkness andthrew themselves upon him. Then a weapon gleamed at his head, and MilesBurton stood over him.

  "Hold on," cried Craigie. "You've got me this time, though you had to geta boy to do it for you."

  "It's all the same to me," replied Miles Burton, coolly. "We've got you,that's the main thing. Here, Mason, here's our man."

  Mason, running up, stooped over the prostrate form for a moment, therewas the sharp snap of steel, and Craigie lay helpless with a pair ofhandcuffs fastened to his wrists.

  "Where's French?" he asked, sullenly.

  "Where you left him," said Mason. "It was a bad cut you gave him. Hewon't run away. That's certain."

  "Serve him right," said the other.

  "Hark! What's that?" cried Miles Burton, as the sound of two pistol-shotscame up from the water. "They seem to be having trouble down there, too.You wait here, Mason, and I'll get down to the shore."

  He ran to the steps, followed by the three boys. Down the rickety stairsthey scrambled, and quickly stood on the ledge of the little landing,looking off on to the water.

  What they saw was the yacht _Eagle_, not far from the bluff, under fullmainsail, standing out of the cove. At some distance astern was therowboat, in which were Arthur and Joe at the oars. The detective stood atthe bow with a smoking revolver in his hand. Not far distant, across thecove, was the canoe containing the other detective and Tom. The detectivealso had just fired. Miles Burton and the boys could see no one aboardthe sloop, but still it sailed steadily on its course. The canoe vainlytried to head it off, but the yacht, obedient to an unseen hand at thewheel, quickly came about and went off on the other tack, soon putting ahopeless distance between it and its pursuers.

  They could not see the man aboard, for the reason that he lay flat in thecockpit, and, with one arm upraised, directed the course of the yacht.

  "What a pity! What a pity!" said Miles Burton, talking softly to himself."How could it have happened? I would rather have lost the other two thanthat man Chambers. He's the most dangerous man of the three, and the manI wanted most."

  His face showed the keenest disappointment, but he had learnedself-control in his business, and refrained from speaking above hisordinary tone of voice.

  "How did it happen, Watkins?" he asked, as the rowboat came in to thelanding for them.

  "It's all our fault, Burton," said the other, bitterly. "Stapleton and Ishould have closed in the moment we heard the first shots; and we shouldhave got aboard the yacht and waited. But I was not sure but whatChambers would land and go up the bluff to the
rescue of his comrades,and so I waited to see what he would do. I might have known him better.These fellows are always looking out for number one, and that's a saferule to go by.

  "All at once we saw him come out from the shadow of the bluff, rowing ashard as ever he could for the yacht. We were after him then, bothStapleton and I. And I'm certain of one thing. No one could have got usout to that yacht faster than these boys. They rowed like men. But, yousee, he had but a few strokes of the oars to pull, compared with us. Andhe got to the yacht when we were still some rods away.

  "I never dreamed but what we had him then, for his anchor was down. Butwhat did he do but spring aboard, not stopping to see what became of hisrowboat, rush forward as quick as a cat, whisk out a knife, and cut hishawser before you could say 'Scat.' Then he jumped aft mighty quick,grabbed the wheel as cool as anything you ever saw, and had her underheadway in no time.

  "He took long chances, standing up when he went about, and dodging downagain, at first. Then when we came close he got down in the bottom of theboat, just as you saw him, and the best we could do was to fire where wethought he ought to be. He dodged back and forth between our boats,tacking right and left as quick as anything I ever saw, and just slippedby us. He couldn't have done it in any ordinary boat, but that yacht justspun around like a weather-vane, and seemed to gain headway as she wentabout, instead of losing anything.

  "I never saw anything so beautiful, if I do say it. Look at her now, justeating away there to windward and leaving this harbour out of sight."

  The yacht was, indeed, flying along like the wind. Chambers had got moresail on her now, and they could see him, coolly sitting at the wheel andwaving a hand in derision back at them.

  "Confound it!" said Burton. "Here we are on an island, with no way ofgetting a telegram started till the morning boat lands over at Mayville.That will be many hours yet, and I fear he'll give us the slip for goodand all. What luck, that it should have been he, the only seaman of thethree, who was left with the boat. Neither of the others could have donewhat he did. He's probably studied these waters some, enough to find hisway down here, and it will be a hard task ever picking him up again."

  "Yes, but a man can't conceal a yacht," said George Warren. "I'd know heranywhere. You can telegraph a description, and the whole coast will be onthe watch. You can describe exactly how she looks."

  "Can I?" laughed Miles Burton. "Yes, I can, but that's all the good it'slikely to do. He'll have her so changed over, if he gets a day to himselfdown among those islands, that the man who built her wouldn't recognizeher. It won't be the first time he has done it. He carries a fullequipment aboard, a different set of sails, different fitting spars,different gear of all kinds, and paint to change her colour. Once let himget in near a sheer bluff, where he can lay alongside, with some treesgrowing close to the water's edge, so he can rig a tackle and heel herway over, and he will have a yacht of a different colour before she'smany hours older. He did the thing up in Long Island Sound for severalyears, and changed her name a half a dozen times into the bargain. He'sdone some smuggling up along the Canadian border, too, I'm told, andthere isn't a better nor a more daring seaman anywhere in this world.However, we'll do the best we can. Lend a hand, now, all of you; we'vegot to get that wounded man down over the bluff, or down through thewoods, and row him across the cove, where we can get a doctor to dressthat wound of his. He's not dangerously hurt, I believe, but he's faintand sick, and we must work spry."

  A half-hour later, at the wharf across the cove, before the eyes of anexcited crowd, composed of villagers, cottagers, and hotel guests, whohad gathered hurriedly at the sound of the firing, there was landed astrange boat-load,--the strangest that had ever come ashore at theharbour. Imagine the amazement of Colonel Witham upon beholding hisfavourite guest, Mr. Kemble, bundled unceremoniously out of the rowboat,with manacles upon his wrists. Imagine the concern of the villagers whenthe man French, his wound clumsily swathed in bandages and his face paleand distressed, was lifted ashore and carried bodily up the slip to thenearest shelter. Nothing like it had ever happened before, not in all theisland's history.

  "And you say you knew that man was a burglar for two or three days, andlet him stay in the house and didn't tell us?" demanded Mrs. Carlin,wrathfully, of Henry Burns.

  "Yes'm," said Henry Burns.

  "Well, if you're not the worst boy I ever had the care of. Here we mightall have been murdered and robbed, and you'd be as guilty as he. And tothink I sat and talked with him there, and shook hands with him when hewent away. Henry Burns, you'll go to bed an hour earlier for a week forthis. And you deserve worse punishment than that."

  Henry Burns assumed his most penitent expression.