Archie made no promise. He listened to my uncle’s lecture, and walked away without a word.
An hour later I saw smoke coming through the window again, and peering through the aperture discovered Archie lying in his bunk, calmly smoking. The boy was exasperatingly stubborn. I called black Nux and gave him an order. With a pleased grin the South Sea Islander brought a length of fire hose, attached it to a plug in the scuppers and carried the nozzle to Archie’s window. Presently we heard a yell as the powerful stream struck the smoker and completely deluged him. He leapt from his berth, only to be struck full in the face by the water from the hose, which sent him reeling against the door. I shut off the water, and Nux, kneeling at the low window, looked down on the discomfitted Archie and exclaimed:
“Goodness sake, Mars Ackley! Were dat on’y you-uns? Thought it were a fire, sure thing. Beg pard’n, Mars Ackley!”
After the boy changed his drenched clothing for dry he came on deck and stalked around in silent anger while Nux went to the cabin and cleared it of the water and wet bedding. I wondered if the lesson would be effective, but could not judge a nature that was so unlike any I had ever before encountered.
Bye-and-bye Archie calmed down sufficiently to drop into his deck chair and begin playing his mouth-organ. He wailed out the most distressing attempts at tunes for an entire hour, eyeing defiantly any who chanced to look toward him; but we took care not to pay the slightest attention to his impertinence. Joe came to me once with a pleading look in his eye, but I shook my head sternly. The sailors were evidently amused by our little comedy forward, for I could see them exchanging smiles now and then when a screech more blood-curdling than usual came from the mouth-organ.
Archie tired himself out in time and went below. He closed and locked his window and began again to smoke in his cabin. In half an hour the smoke was so thick in the little room that we could see nothing but its gray clouds through the thick pane.
The set frown upon my father’s face told me trouble was brewing for our passenger, but as yet the Captain forbore to interfere. Uncle Naboth came to me indignant and angry and demanded to know what should be done to the “young pig” whose actions were so insolent and annoying.
“Let me think,” I replied, gravely. “We must certainly conquer young Ackley in some way, even if we have to toss him overboard; but I hope it will not come to that.”
“Then think quick an’ to the point, Sam,” rejoined my uncle; “for I’m jest achin’ to wollop the fool wi’ a cat-o’- nine-tails.”
At dinner Archie joined our table, silent but with a sneering and triumphant look upon his face. He was not handsome at any time, but just now his damaged face was positively disagreeable to behold. It occurred to me that the trouble with the young fellow was that he had not been taught to obey, and doubtless he imagined we were his enemies because we were endeavoring to prevent him from doing exactly what he wanted to. His idea of being a “free-born American citizen” was to be able to override the rights and privileges of others, and the sooner he got that notion out of his head the better it would be for him.
Archie was a deliberate eater and remained at the table with a sort of bravado because we took not the slightest notice of him. So I left him finishing his meal when I went on deck.
A few minutes afterward, however, he came bounding up the companionway with a white face and rushed up to where Uncle Naboth and I were standing.
“I’ve been robbed!” he cried, shaking his big fist at me. “My cabin’s been entered by a thief, and I’ll have the law on you all if you don’t restore my property!”
“What have you lost?” I inquired.
“You know well enough, Sam Steele. I’ve lost all my cigarettes — ev’ry box of ‘em! — and my four mouth-organs, too. They picked the lock on my door, and opened my telescopes, and stole my property.”
“How’s this, Sam?” inquired Uncle Naboth, his eyes twinkling.
“I don’t know, sir,” I answered, greatly surprised. “There are no duplicate keys to the cabin doors, and Ackley had his in his pocket, I suppose.”
“They picked the lock, I tell you, and the locks on both my traveling cases,” declared the boy, in a rage; “and you must be a fine bunch of practiced thieves, because they were all locked again after the goods were stolen.”
“How about your window?” I asked.
“I left it bolted on the inside. No one could enter that way.”
“Did you lose anything except the cigarettes and the mouth-organs?” I continued, beginning to be greatly amused.
“No; but those things are my property, and you or your people have stolen them. Look here, Sam Steele,” he added, coming close and shaking his fist threateningly; “either you return my property in double quick time or I’ll take it out of your hide. Just make your choice, for I mean business.”
I think he saw that I was not afraid of him, but I chose to ignore his challenge. I was neither as clever a wrestler as Joe Herring nor as expert with my fists as Archie Ackley; so it would be folly for me to undertake a personal encounter. But I said, quietly enough:
“You are getting insolent, my lad, and insolence I will not stand for. Unless you control your temper I will order you to the ship’s lockup, and there you shall stay until we drop anchor again.”
He gazed into my face long and steadily, and then began to whistle softly as he turned and walked away. But a few moments later he returned and said:
“Who’s going to make good my loss?”
“Send me your bill,” replied Uncle Naboth. “I’ll pay it.”
“I think Joe stole the things,” continued Archie.
I called Joe to us.
“Did you enter Ackley’s cabin and take his cigarettes and mouth-organs?” Uncle Naboth inquired.
“No,” said Joe, looking at Archie and laughing at his angry expression.
“Do you know who did it?” persisted my Uncle.
“No,” said Joe, again.
“He’s lying!” cried Archie, indignantly.
“Are you lying, Joe?” I asked, gently.
“Yes, sir,” returned Joe, touching his cap.
“Then tell the truth,” said I.
“I won’t, sir,” replied the boy, firmly. “If you question me, I’m bound to lie; so it will be better to let me alone.”
This answer surprised and annoyed me, but Uncle Naboth laughed aloud, and to my astonishment Archie frankly joined him, without a trace of his recent ill-nature.
“Just as I thought,” he observed. “You’re a slick one, Joe.”
“I try to do my duty,” answered Joe, modestly.
“Bring me your bill, young feller,” said Uncle Naboth, “and I’ll cash it in a jiffy — an’ with joy, too. I don’t see jest how Joe managed the affair, but he’s saved us all a lot of trouble, an’ I’m much obleeged to him, fer my part.” And the old gentleman walked away with a cheerful nod.
“Uncle’s right,” I said to Archie. “You wouldn’t be reasonable, you know, and we were simply obliged to maintain our ship’s discipline. So, if your offending goods hadn’t been abstracted so cleverly, there would have been open war by another day and our side was the strongest.”
Archie nodded forgivingly toward Joe.
“Perhaps it was best,” he admitted, with more generosity than I had expected from him. “You see, Steele, I won’t be bulldozed or browbeaten by a lot of cheap skates who happen to own a ship, for I’m an independent American citizen. So I had to hold out as long as I could.”
“You were wrong in that,” I remarked.
“Right or wrong, I’ll hold my own.”
“That’s a bad philosophy, Archie. When you took passage aboard this ship you made yourself subject to our rules and regulations, and in all honesty you’re bound to abide by them. A true American shows his independence best by upholding the laws of his country.”
“That’s rot,” growled Archie, but Joe and I both laughed at him because he could find nothing better t
o say. When he returned to his deck chair the passenger’s face bore its normal expression of placid good nature. It was evident he prided himself on the fact that he had not “given in” of his own accord, and perhaps he was glad that the force of circumstances alone had conquered his stubborn temper.
CHAPTER FOUR
A RIOT AND A RESCUE
After that we had little trouble with Archie Ackley, although in many ways the stubborn nature of the boy was unpleasantly evident. In his better moods he was an agreeable companion, but neither Joe nor I, the only two other boys aboard, sought his society more than was necessary. My uncle and the Captain both declared there was a heap of good in the lad, and a few such lessons as the one he had received would make a man of him.
Joe I found a treasure in many ways, and always a faithful friend. Since that first night when he had come aboard he had nothing to tell of his past history or experiences; but his nature was quick and observant and I could see he had picked up somewhere a considerable fund of worldly knowledge which he could draw upon as occasion offered.
My father, Uncle Naboth, and I were all three delighted with the Seagull’s sailing performances, though secretly I longed to discover how she would behave under steam, since her propeller had never been in use since the day it was given a brief trial test in Chelsea Bay. Tomlinson, the engineer, assured me we could make from sixteen to eighteen knots when the engines were working, and the man was naturally as impatient as I was to test their full powers. Still, we realized that we must wait, and Captain Steele was so delighted with the superb sailing qualities of the ship that even I had not the heart to suggest supplanting his white wings with black smoke from our funnels.
In due time we crossed the stormy Mediterranean and reached in safety our Syrian port, where we unloaded the rugs and delivered them in good condition to the consignees. We sailed along the coast, past Port Said, and finally came to the Bay of Alexandria, where we were to unload Ackley’s cases of “modern antiques” and get rid of our passenger.
It was a new experience to me to find myself on the historic shores of Egypt, anchored before the famous city founded by Alexander the Great. I begged Uncle Naboth to take me ashore; overhearing my request Archie Ackley invited us all — with an air of great condescension — to dine with him at the Royal Khedivial Hotel.
My father refused. He was too fond of the Seagull to leave her alone in a foreign port; but Ned Britton took his place, and the four of us — Archie, Uncle Naboth, the Mate and I — followed by our faithful blacks, Nux and Bryonia, disembarked on the quay and walked up the long, foreign-looking streets to the big hotel.
It was a queer sensation to find ourselves moving amidst a throng of long-robed turbaned Arabs; fez-topped Turks, with Frenchmen, and Syrians; gray-bearded, stooping Jews; blind beggars; red-coated English soldiers, and shrinking, veiled Moslem women.
“What a mess of foreigners,” cried Archie, and Uncle Naboth, with a laugh, reminded him that we were the foreigners and this curiously mixed crowd, the natives.
We dined in sumptuous style at the handsome hotel, for Archie proved a liberal host and feasted us royally. It was late at night when we retraced our steps toward the quay; but the streets of the city were still thronged with people, many of whom were sitting at little tables placed on the sidewalks, where they smoked and drank Turkish coffee and chatted together in a very babel of tongues.
As we left the heart of Alexandria and drew near to the water-front the streets became more deserted and the lights were fewer and dimmer. There were still straggling groups here and there, and suddenly, as we turned a corner, we observed a commotion just ahead of us and heard a terrified voice cry out:
“Help — Americans — help!”
Ned Britton gave a bound and was in the thick of the melee at once. Archie was only a step behind him and I saw his big fists swinging right and left in fast and furious fashion, while Joe ducked his head and tossed a tall Arab over his shoulder with marvelous ease. Nux and Bryonia took a hand, and while none of our party was armed, the free use of their terrible fists wrought such havoc among the long-gowned Arabs that the result of the skirmish was not long in doubt. Like a mist they faded away and escaped into the night, leaving a little man wriggling and moaning upon the ground as if in deathly agony. I held fast to my left arm, which had been slashed by a knife and was bleeding profusely, while I stared around in surprise at our easy victory. Uncle Naboth had not taken part in the fray, but now appeared seated calmly upon the prostrate form of the Arab whom Joe had vanquished, and his two hundred and odd pounds rendered the prisoner fairly secure.
Our blacks raised the little man to his feet, where he ceased squirming but stood weakly leaning against Nux and trembling like a leaf.
“Are you hurt, sir?” asked Ned.
The stranger shook his head. It was so dark in this spot that we could not distinguish his features very clearly, “I — I think not,” he gasped. “But they nearly had me, that time. If you hadn’t come up as you did, I — I — ”
He broke off abruptly and leaned over to peer at the Arab Uncle Naboth was sitting upon.
“That’s him! That’s Abdul Hashim himself! Kill him — kill him quick, some one!” he yelled, in a sudden frenzy.
The cry seemed to rouse the Arab to life. Like an eel he twisted, and Uncle Naboth slid off his back and bumped upon the sidewalk. The next moment we Americans were alone, for Abdul Hashim had saved his bacon by vanishing instantly.
“Oh, why — why did you let him go?” wailed the little man, covering his face with his hands. “He’ll get me again, some day — he’s sure to get me again!”
“Never mind that,” said Ned, gruffly, for we were all disgusted at this exhibition of the fellow’s unmanly weakness. “You can thank God you’re out of his clutches this time.”
“I do, sir — I do, indeed!” was the reply. “But don’t leave me just now, I beg of you.”
We looked at Uncle Naboth for advice. Bry had slit my sleeve with his pocketknife and was binding a handkerchief tightly around my wound, for he was something of a surgeon as well as a cook.
“We’re going aboard our ship,” said my uncle, shortly. “You’re welcome to come along, my man, an’ stay till mornin’.”
The stranger accepted the invitation with alacrity and we started again for the quay, which was reached without further incident. Our boat was waiting and we were soon rowed where the Seagull was anchored and climbed aboard.
Under the clear light of the cabin lamp we looked at the person we had rescued with natural curiosity, to find a slender man, with stooping shoulders, a red Van Dyke beard, bald head and small eyes covered with big spectacles. He was about forty years of age, wore European clothes somewhat threadbare and faded in color, and his general appearance was one of seedy respectability.
“Gentlemen,” said he, sitting in an easy chair and facing the attentive group before him, “I am Professor Peter Pericles Van Dorn, of the University of Milwaukee.”
I had never heard of such a university; but then, Milwaukee is a good way inland. Neither had any of us before heard the name so unctuously announced; though we were too polite to say so, and merely nodded.
“It will please me,” continued the Professor, “to be informed of your station and the business that has brought you to Egypt.”
My uncle laughed and looked at me quizzically, as if inviting me to satisfy the stranger. Captain Steele scowled, resenting the implied impertinence. The only others present were Archie and Ned Britton.
I told Van Dorn we were a merchant ship from Boston, and had casually touched at the port of Alexandria to unload some wares belonging to Mr. Ackley, who was going to ship his property to Luxor and deliver it to merchants there.
“What sort of wares?” demanded the stranger.
“Scarabs, funeral figures, and copies of antique jewelry,” replied Archie, a bit uneasily.
“The curse of the country,” snapped the little man, scornfully. “There ought
to be a law to prevent such rubbish being shipped into Egypt — except,” pausing to continue with a touch of bitterness, “that there are too many laws in this beastly country already.”
“The poor tourists must have scarabs to take home with them,” said Archie, with a grin. “About fifteen thousand travelers come to Egypt every year, and your Khedive won’t let any genuine scarabs leave Egypt.”
“Don’t call him my Khedive, sir!” cried the little professor. “I detest — I hate the government here, and everything connected with it. But you are not interested in that. Gentlemen,” assuming a pompous tone, “I am glad to meet you. You have arrived in the very nick of time to save me from assassination, or at least from utter failure in my great work. I am sure it was an All-wise Providence that directed you to stop at Alexandria.”
“Disguised as old Ackley’s mud scarabs,” added my uncle, dryly.
“And what are your future plans?” inquired the Professor, eagerly.
“To return to America at once,” I replied.
“No! A thousand times no!” shouted little Van Dorn, banging his fist on the table. “I charter you from this minute. I engage this ship — at your own price — to transport me and my treasure to New York!”
“Treasure!” we exclaimed, incredulously.
The Professor glanced around and lowered his voice.
“The greatest treasure, gentlemen, that has ever been discovered in Egypt. I have found the place where the priests of Karnak and Luxor hid their vast wealth at the invasion of Cambyses the Persian.”
He paused impressively. My father looked at his watch and Uncle Naboth yawned. For myself, I should have liked to hear more, but my wound was paining me and Bry awaited my coming to dress it properly. So I said to our guest:
“If you please, Professor, we will hear your story in the morning. It is now late, and we are all longing for our berths. So we will bid you good-night and wish you pleasant dreams.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 670
