CHAPTER XXVIII. JOHN HAYNES HAS A NARROW ESCAPE
John Haynes found the time hang heavily upon his hand after hiswithdrawal from the boys' volunteer company. All the boys with whom hehad been accustomed to associate belonged to it, and in theirinterest could talk of nothing else. To him, on the contrary, it was adisagreeable subject. In the pleasant spring days the company came outtwice a week, and went through company drill on the Common, under thecommand of Frank, or Captain Frost, as he was now called.
Had Frank shown himself incompetent, and made himself ridiculous byblunders, it would have afforded John satisfaction. But Frank, thoroughin all things, had so carefully prepared himself for his duties thathe never made a mistake, and always acquitted himself so creditably andwith such entire self-possession, that his praises were in every mouth.
Dick Bumstead, too, manifested an ambition to fill his secondlieutenancy, to which, so much to his own surprise, he had been elected,in such a manner as to justify the company in their choice. In this hefully succeeded. He had become quite a different boy from what he waswhen we first made his acquaintance. He had learned to respect himself,and perceived with great satisfaction that he was generally respected bythe boys. He no longer attempted to shirk his work in the shop, andhis father now spoke of him with complacency, instead of complaint asformerly.
"Yes," said he one day, "Dick's a good boy. He was always smart, butrather fly-a-way. I couldn't place any dependence upon him once, but itis not so now. I couldn't wish for a better boy. I don't know what hascome over him, but I hope it'll last."
Dick happened to overhear his father speaking thus to a neighbor, andhe only determined, with a commendable feeling of pride, that the changethat had given his father so much pleasure should last. It does a boygood to know that his efforts are appreciated. In this case it had ahappy effect upon Dick, who, I am glad to say, kept his resolution.
It has been mentioned that John was the possessor of a boat. Finding onegreat source of amusement cut off, and being left very much to himself,he fell back upon this, and nearly every pleasant afternoon he mightbe seen rowing on the river above the dam. He was obliged to confinehimself to this part of the river, since, in the part below the dam, thewater was too shallow.
There is one great drawback, however, upon the pleasure of owning arowboat. It is tiresome to row single-handed after a time. So John foundit, and, not being overfond of active exertion, he was beginning toget weary of this kind of amusement when all at once a new plan wassuggested to him. This was, to rig up a mast and sail, and thus obviatethe necessity of rowing.
No sooner had this plan suggested itself than he hastened to put it intoexecution. His boat was large enough to bear a small mast, so there wasno difficulty on that head. He engaged the village carpenter to effectthe desired change. He did not choose to consult his father on thesubject, fearing that he might make some objection either on score ofsafety or expense, while he had made up his mind to have his own way.
When it was finished, and the boat with its slender mast and white sailfloated gently on the quiet bosom of the stream, John's satisfactionwas unbounded.
"You've got a pretty boat," said Mr. Plane, the carpenter. "I supposeyou know how to manage it?" he added inquiringly.
"Yes," answered John carelessly, "I've been in a sailboat beforeto-day."
Mr. Plane's doubts were set at rest by John's confident manner, and hesuppressed the caution which he had intended to give him. It made littledifference, however, for John was headstrong, and would have been prettycertain to disregard whatever he might say.
It was true that this was not the first time John had been in asailboat; but if not the first, it was only the second. The firstoccasion had been three years previous, and at that time he had hadnothing to do with the management of the boat--a very importantmatter. It was in John's nature to be over-confident, and he thoughthe understood merely from observation exactly how a boat ought to bemanaged. As we shall see, he found out his mistake.
The first day after his boat was ready John was greatly disappointedthat there was no wind. The next day, as if to make up for it, the windwas very strong. Had John possessed a particle of prudence he would haveseen that it was no day to venture out in a sailboat. But he was not inthe habit of curbing his impatience, and he determined that he would notwait till another day. He declared that it was a mere "capful of wind,"and would be all the better for the purpose.
"It's a tip-top wind. Won't it make my boat scud," he said to himselfexultantly, as he took his place, and pushed off from shore.
Henry Morton had been out on a walk, and from the summit of a littlehill near the river-bank espied John pushing off in his boat.
"He'll be sure to capsize," thought the young man in alarm. "Even if heis used to a sailboat he is very imprudent to put out in such a wind; Iwill hurry down and save him if I can."
He hurried to the bank of the river, reaching it out of breath.
John was by this time some distance out. The wind had carried him alongfinely, the boat scudding, as he expressed it. He was congratulatinghimself on the success of his trial trip, when all at once a flaw struckthe boat. Not being a skillful boatman he was wholly unprepared for it,and the boat upset.
Struggling in terror and confusion, John struck out for the shore. Buthe was not much of a swimmer, and the suddenness of the accident hadunnerved him, and deprived him of his self-possession. The current ofthe river was rapid, and he would inevitably have drowned but for theopportune assistance of Mr. Morton.
The young man had no sooner seen the boat capsize, than he flung off hiscoat and boots, and, plunging into the river, swam vigorously toward theimperiled boy.
Luckily for John, Mr. Morton was, though of slight frame, muscular,and an admirable swimmer. He reached him just as John's strokes werebecoming feebler and feebler; he was about to give up his unequalstruggle with the waves.
"Take hold of me," he said. "Have courage, and I will save you."
John seized him with the firm grip of a drowning person, and nearlyprevented him from striking out. But Mr. Morton's strength served himin good stead; and, notwithstanding the heavy burden, he succeeded inreaching the bank in safety, though with much exhaustion.
John no sooner reached the bank than he fainted away. The great dangerwhich he had just escaped, added to his own efforts, had proved too muchfor him.
Mr. Morton, fortunately knew how to act in such emergencies. By the useof the proper remedies, he was fortunately brought to himself, and hispreserver offered to accompany him home. John still felt giddy, andwas glad to accept Mr. Morton's offer. He knew that his father wouldbe angry with him for having the boat fitted up without his knowledge,especially as he had directed Mr. Plane to charge it to his father'saccount. Supposing that Squire Haynes approved, the carpenter made noobjections to doing so. But even the apprehension of his father's angerwas swallowed up by the thought of the great peril from which he hadjust escaped, and the discomfort of the wet clothes which he had on.
Mr. Morton, too, was completely wet through, with the exception of hiscoat, and but for John's apparent inability to go home alone, would atonce have returned to his boarding-house to exchange his wet clothes fordry ones.
It so happened that Squire Haynes was sitting at a front window, and sawMr. Morton and his son as they entered the gate and came up the graveledwalk. He had never met Mr. Morton, and was surprised now at seeing himin John's company. He had conceived a feeling of dislike to the youngman, for which he could not account, while at the same time he felt astrong curiosity to know more of him.
When they came nearer, he perceived the drenched garments, and went tothe door himself to admit them.
"What's the matter, John?" he demanded hastily, with a contraction ofthe eyebrows.
"I'm wet!" said John shortly.
"It is easy to see that. But how came you so wet?"
"I've been in the river," answered John, who did not seem disposed tovolunteer any particulars of his adven
ture.
"How came you there?"
"Your son's boat capsized," explained Mr. Morton; "and, as you willjudge from my appearance, I jumped in after him. I should advise him tochange his clothing, or he will be likely to take cold."
Squire Haynes looked puzzled.
"I don't see how a large rowboat like his could capsize," he said; "hemust have been very careless."
"It was a sailboat," explained John, rather reluctantly.
"A sailboat! Whose?"
"Mine."
"I don't understand at all."
"I had a mast put in, and a sail rigged up, two or three days since,"said John, compelled at last to explain.
"Why did you do this without my permission?" demanded the squireangrily.
"Perhaps," said Mr. Morton quietly, "it will be better to postponeinquiries until your son has changed his clothes."
Squire Haynes, though somewhat irritated by this interference, bethoughthimself that it would be churlish not to thank his son's preserver.
"I am indebted to you, sir," he said, "for your agency in saving thelife of this rash boy. I regret that you should have got wet."
"I shall probably experience nothing more than temporary inconvenience."
"You have been some months in the village, I believe, Mr. Morton. Itrust you will call at an early day, and enable me to follow up thechance which has made us acquainted."
"I seldom make calls," said Mr. Morton, in a distant tone. "Yet," addedhe, after a pause, "I may have occasion to accept your invitation someday. Good morning, sir."
"Good morning," returned the squire, looking after him with anexpression of perplexity.
"He boards at the Frosts', doesn't he, John?" asked Squire Haynes,turning to his son.
"Yes, sir."
"There's something in his face that seems familiar," mused the squireabsently. "He reminds me of somebody, though I can't recall who."
It was not long before the squire's memory was refreshed, and heobtained clearer information respecting the young man, and the errandwhich had brought him to Rossville. When that information came, itwas so far from pleasing that he would willingly have postponed itindefinitely.
Frank's Campaign; Or, The Farm and the Camp Page 28
