by S. L. Stoner
Caroline Stark, who’d been staring daggers at Sinclair, was the first to speak. “Mr. Sinclair, I know Jesus says I should forgive but I must tell you, I will need to say countless Hail Mary’s before forgiveness will enter my heart where you’re concerned.”
Sinclair hung his head, kept turning his bowler hat roundabout and said nothing.
“Well, we need to get on with the business of rescuing those women,” Hanke said. Just then, the train’s air whistle split the air and they all glanced out the window, startled to see that the train was entering a settlement.
“That’ll be Scappoose,” Hanke said. The seven of them froze, waiting to see if the train slowed for the station. It didn’t. Instead, the platform whizzed by but not before they saw the station’s telegraph operator standing at the platform’s edge waving them onward. Ranged out on either side were the bypassed passengers, all of them aping his gesture and cheering.
“Good,” said Hanke with a faint smile of satisfaction. “We shouldn’t have any trouble from here on. It looks like the station master got word down the line.”
Over the next two hours, the train rocketed through Scappoose, St. Helens, Rainier and Clatskanie. With each passing village, the crowd on the rail platform was larger. Clearly word of their rescue mission was spreading from the passengers to the settlements themselves. Meanwhile, the engineer was demonstrating his considerable skill. The railcar rattled and rocked more than any Sage had ever ridden, its brakes squealing as they approached a curve, sometimes taking it at a speed that nearly flung them off the tracks. He pondered the toll this hell-raising trip had to be taking on the engineer’s nerves and the fireman’s muscles. Mostly Sage craned his neck to look forward of the train, anxious to see Astoria’s outskirts.
Everyone else seemed focused on that end as well because there was little conversation as they drew close to the river’s end. Even Hanke grew grimmer with every passing mile. Finally Sage could stand it no longer. He gestured to the sergeant who rose and followed him out to the platform between the two cars. In a way, it was a relief to stand there in the open, the air flowing from the train’s passage lifting Sage’s hair. “What’s going to happen when we reach Astoria?” he asked.
Hanke looked out at the scenery whipping past the windows. “I don’t rightly know, Mr. Adair. If my officer was able to convince Chief Hunt to do as I asked, the town’s police chief and reinforcements will meet us at the station. I’ve been thinking and I’m betting the Maggie Jane plans on steaming right past the town. If that’s what she does, then we have to figure out how to stop her in the river. Steam ships can always maneuver; they don’t need the wind. I don’t know if we’ll be able to stop her.”
This was Sage’s fear. Even if Astoria’s police could commandeer a few fishing boats and their captains, how could they stop a bigger ship bent on steaming out into the Pacific Ocean? “Just a minute, we might be able to increase our rescue flotilla. Sage ducked inside the railcar, gestured to Fong who returned to the platform with his friend.
“Mr. Fong, we’re wondering how we’re going to stop that steam ship with just a few boats. Do you have any suggestions?”
Fong looked solemn. “I’ve been thinking about same thing. Once we get to Astoria, I will go find Chinese men. Some of them have boats. They will help.”
“Good. Maybe we can slow the Maggie Jane enough to climb aboard her,” Sage mused. Fong was nodding. “I have to find hatchet when we get to Astoria,” he said.
Hanke and Sage looked at each other. They knew exactly what Fong meant.
The cabin’s air was stale. Once the task of making weapons was over, the three women had given into exhaustion and the torpidity of heat. Mae and Rachel were sharing the floor mattress while Rebecca had climbed into the top bunk. A noise from outside woke them. It was the metal clank of an anchor lowering to the river bottom. The ship’s mechanical rumbling ceased.
“They’re stopping,” Mae observed unnecessarily. Fear clutched her heart. Were they already at the ocean? She jumped up and stepped to the porthole. She saw the bright green of grasses and leaf trees, mixed with the dark green of firs along a wild shoreline. “They must plan on waiting here until the tide is right to cross the bar into the ocean. I’ve heard it is near impossible to get across when the tide is coming in,” she said.
“I wish they’d left us with a jug of water,” Rachel said quietly. “This heat sure makes me thirsty.”
Mae smiled grimly at the thought they were surrounded by fresh water they couldn’t reach. “Well, if we manage to break out of here, you may get to drink more fresh water than you’d like,” she said.
Suddenly a flash of movement caught her eye. There, beyond the trees, she saw it again. It took a minute before she realized it was the train heading toward Astoria. She’d ridden that train with Herman on a day outing to Astoria. A memory she treasured. When Herman learned she’d never seen the Pacific Ocean he’d surprised her with two tickets and off they’d gone.
Mae felt a deep sadness crawl around her heart. She given up all thought of a man friend before meeting Herman Eich. Their’s was a sweet, easy friendship, one that had become important to her. He’d blame himself if she didn’t get out of this mess.
She didn’t hold any illusions. Sinclair told the girls that they were going to Panama. When the steamer reached San Francisco, they’d transfer Rachel and Rebecca from the Maggie Jane onto a ship heading to Panama. Their feet wouldn’t even touch solid ground. But, not her. Nobody would think it financially worthwhile to ship a tired, graying woman to Panama. Nor could the captain risk leaving her in San Francisco where she could point the finger straight at him. No, she’d have a different fate. Once they were on the ocean, they’d throw her overboard like a piece of garbage. Her eyes stung as she gazed at the lush green riverbank and the fir-clad ridge running high above it.
Chapter Thirty Four
The train chugged into the Astoria train station, its whistle shrieking. The engineer was probably relieved to reach the end of his hair-raising dash to the ocean. The platform was crowded with onlookers but front and center stood Astoria’s police force. Sage heard Hanke’s sigh of relief.
Things happened quickly once they descended from the train. The police chief stepped forward and shook Hanke’s hand even as he pulled him toward the platform’s end. Waiting there was a wagon with a police officer holding the reins of two eager horses. The men clambered into the wagon bed while Lucinda and Caroline were lifted onto the driver’s bench.
As they rumbled away from the station the police chief shouted his information. “You made it in the nick of time. The tide is about to turn. We’ll need to get our boats into the river without delay. I’ve got a number of fishing boats lined up.” As Sage listened, he saw the Chinese man from Portland running alongside the river toward a cannery that stood on pilings in the water. He looked at Fong who said, “He’s going to find Chinese boatmen. They will help too.”
Sage looked out at the river. It flowed placidly along, its surface ripples sparkling in the afternoon sun. It was so wide. How could a few small boats possibly stop a determined steamer captain from getting past?
“What’s the plan?” Hanke asked the police chief who replied, “We’ll put out into the river in a long string. Form a blockade. I’ll have a man with a rifle on every boat. We’ll fire over their bow. What we really need is the Commodore Perry. She’s a revenue service cutter that operates out of Warrington across the river. We were able to use our heliograph to signal the Warrington base but got the signal back that the Perry was out past the bar. They’re sending someone up to the point with a signal heliograph but we don’t know if the cutter will be close enough to see the signal. We can’t count on it coming to the rescue.”
“We don’t have much time,” Hanke said grimly. “We think we saw the Maggie Jane anchored about a mile upriver. If it was her, she’ll be able to steam down here pretty quick to catch the tide.”
The chief waved his hand at the oth
er boats along the wharf. “We figured she’d lay up somewhere out of sight until tide change. That’s why these boats have their steam up and are raring to go. Luckily your telegram came when they were still tied up, waiting for the change of tide. Normally, they’d already be out, waiting near the bar for the change. We don’t want to intercept the Maggie Jane close to the bar, it’s way too dangerous. We need to stop her a bit upriver.
Seven power boats were tied to the wharf, each with a man standing on the dock ready to untie it.. The wagon drew to a halt and everyone jumped off. Sage grabbed Lucinda around the waist and swung her down. For just a moment they stood looking into each other’s eyes, as though time had froze. Then, flashing her a devilish grin he said, “Looks like we’re in it together once again. You be careful, you hear?” She didn’t answer before they took off after the others, running down the long wharf to its far end.
The chief gestured the seven of them into the last boat. Hanke was first on board, he lifted Caroline down before turning to help Lucinda. Sage stepped forward, having a sudden need to tell her to stay ashore but the steel in her eyes shut him up. He’d seen that same look in his mother’s eyes and knew better than to argue. The four men scrambled aboard without any help.
A patrolman stood at the helm. “Miska here was raised on fishing boats. He’s our best helmsman. One of the best on the river.” The chief nodded to a patrolman standing on the dock. He quickly loosened the tie lines and leapt into the boat as they pulled away from the wharf, the boat engine chugging. As they motored out into the current, Sage looked behind to see all the other boats being untied and following.
“Won’t the captain of the Maggie Jane want to stop and pick up a bar pilot? I heard that the river bar can be highly dangerous,” Sage said even as he stared upriver, hoping to spot the coastal steamer.
The chief’s face was glum as he responded, “The bar’s dangerous as all get out. Her captain would be a damn fool if he doesn’t pick up a bar pilot. I looked at our records. It looks like the Maggie Jane has only crossed the bar once, when she first came up the Columbia. So the captain might be unaware of the danger. Since it’s summer, he probably thinks the bar will be calm.”
Seeing six pairs of eyes staring questioningly at him, the chief went on to explain. “Three forces work against you when crossing the bar. The shallow water, the wind blowing in from the south and the fast river current. The wind is steady, not too bad today but it still can cause a problem because even a light wind makes the waves stronger and bigger. The water flow is the real danger. When those big Pacific waves hit the shallow bar, it’s just like they’re hitting a wall. Like what happens when big waves hit the beach, except you got the river current pushing at those waves from underneath. So you got the top of the wave pushing up river while the river is pushing the wave bottom out to sea. That creates a strong undertow. The water turns terrible swirly but you can’t always see that on days like today. If the pilot doesn’t know how to approach the bar, that undertow can yank the stern under the waves while the top of the waves push the boat right over, end-over-end.”
The six of them looked at each other, fear on every face. What chance would the three women have if the ship went under? They must be locked in a cabin. On the train ride, Sinclair had told them his opinion of the steamer captain’s skill. He wouldn’t know how to handle a perilous situation.
Sage said to the chief, “From what I know of him, the captain is a reckless drunk. He’s not going to stop for a pilot.”
The chief nodded. “Yup, that’s what I figured. Any fellow who would kidnap three women has to be darn short on common sense. We’ve got to hope he’s smart enough to heave to when he sees an armada of boats blocking his way. The danger is that he’ll try to run over the top of us. If he does that, someone’s going to get hurt.”
By now they were well out into the harbor, nearing the river channel. The chief glanced over his shoulder and then straightened. “I’ll be darned,” he exclaimed. “It looks like the whole Chinese fishing fleet is chasing after us.”
Sure enough, a smallish power boat was pulling out into the current. Trailing after it, were about eight small wooden boats, attached to the power boat by a long line. A single man sat in each boat, his oars out of the water as the bigger boat towed him along.
“Wonder if they mean to help?” the chief said as he turned to look at Fong, “Is this your doing, Mister?” he asked Fong.
“Yes, Chief. I sent request for them to help. Very happy to see they respond to request,” Fong said quietly.
“That’s mighty good of them. I hope they are careful. The Maggie Jane could run right over the top of those small boats of theirs and not even feel a bump. This here boat might be big enough to stove her in, but she’d crush those little boats like beetles underfoot.”
Sage heard the exchange but his eyes were straining to see upriver. A ship’s prow was visible, now that they were nearing the channel’s middle. He couldn’t tell whether the ship was anchored or moving.
Seeing the direction of Sage’s gaze, the chief turned to stare upriver. “Looks like we made it just in time,” he noted. “If that’s the Maggie Jane she’s underway or will be shortly, that’s a heap of smoke coming from her stack.”
“This is it. We’ve got to act. I’d hoped we’d be rescued by now but it looks like rescue is up to us.” Mae turned from them and began gouging at the door with her metal slat. “We’re moving again. That means the tide is turning and we’re about to cross the bar. Once that happens, all is lost.” She said this without pausing her attack. “Are you ready?” she asked over her shoulder.
Their eyes are as wide as an outhouse owl’s on a moonless night, Mae thought. She just prayed they’d have the courage to smack a sailor’s head while he was tussling with her. She checked. Good, their slats were hidden behind their skirts.
Outside in the corridor, rattling sounded. Mae didn’t pause, just kept up her gouging. The door slammed open, she jumped away, stumbling back against the bunk. After quick glance at the young women, the angry sailor advanced on Mae, reaching out for the hand holding the slat. “You give that to me, or I’ll knock your damn block off,” he roared at Mae who was now crawling onto the mattress bunk hoping her knee wouldn’t shove the mattress through the gap they’d made in the slats. She kept a firm grasp on her own slat. As the man grabbed her ankle, she awkwardly swung the slat at him, hitting his arm as best she could. Probably felt like a tap to him, she thought as she fought against the fear that the two women had turned too paralyzed to act.
Suddenly, he released her ankle and slid to the floor, his eyes momentarily dumbfounded before they closed. Behind and looming over him, their slats raised for more blows, were Rachel and Rebecca. The latter nudged the man with her boot. “Do you think we killed him?” she asked. “I hit him hard as I could.”
Mae scrambled off the bunk, kneeling down to put a hand to the man’s neck. “Naw,” she said. “His heart’s beating steady. While I fish through his pockets for anything helpful, you two take those strips we made and tie his feet and hands. We’ll need to gag him too. Be quick about it. I think he’s already coming to. Sailors have hard heads.”
The two sisters moved quickly. By the time Mae had finished searching the man’s pockets, they had his hands and feet tightly bound and were ready to gag him. That done, the three women stood looking down at their captive. “Never knew you could knock someone out hitting them in the back of the head,” Rachel commented in a dry voice.
“Well, as a friend of mine pointed out, a knocked out man can’t hurt you. He showed me where to hit,” said Mae.
“What do we do next? Sneak onto the deck, jump off and swim for it?” asked Rebecca, adding, “I’m not much good at swimming.”
Mae shook her head vigorously. “No, no. We can’t swim, it’s too far and too cold.” She didn’t tell them about the young man who’d died the last year doing that very thing in this same exact spot. Nor of the long nights when she’d sat be
side his grieving widow. Instead, she smiled grimly and said, “We’re going to do something they don’t expect. We’re going to figure out how to disable this ship. If she can’t run, she can’t cross the bar into the ocean. That’ll buy us time.”
Mae crossed the room and quietly opened the door to the companionway. She stuck her head out and then turned to the other two. “It’s clear. Come on,” she whispered. Once outside, she quickly pulled the door shut and locked it using the unconscious sailor’s key. “As long as that fellow in there doesn’t make someone come running, they won’t know there’s a problem.” She pocketed the key. “Even if they figure that out, it will take them awhile to get the door open.”
She gestured to their right. “That way’s the deck so we better head the other direction,” she said, turning left. Moving down the companionway, they opened every door, looking for the ladders that went down into the bowels of the ship. That’s where they’d find the steam boiler and the engine.
Chapter Thirty Five
“It’s her! It’s the Maggie Jane!” shouted Paul Sinclair who was leaning far out over the boat’s rail on the upriver side.
If he wasn’t more careful Sinclair was going to end up in the river, which was already turning choppy from the tidal turn. Sage grabbed the man’s waistband and yanked him back. “You fall in and we’ll have to rescue you instead of the women. Have a care, man.”
Behind them the police chief stood in the boat’s stern, using big arm gestures to point at the oncoming coastal steamer. The flotilla of power boats adjusted their course to one that would intercept. The only exception was the single boat towing the small crafts of the Chinese fishermen. That boat seemed to be heading to a point between the bar and the rescue boats. Evidently they’re making themselves the last line of offense, Sage thought to himself. As Sage watched the tow lines dropped free of the towing boat and the Chinese fishermen dropped their oars into the water. It would be hard for them to maintain their positions.
