CHAPTER XXVIII. CHECKMATED.
"Hull-o-o-o-h!"
Ralph sent the cry shrilly echoing among the trees and brush that toppedthe rocky rise edging the beach upon which they had struck.
There was no answer. Again and again he sent the cry forth, while thestorm whipped it out from his lips and scattered it broadcast. But tohis far-flung appeals there came no rejoinder.
"Deserted!" muttered Ralph. "That shows how much those fellows reallyamount to. When they thought they were going to the bottom they wereglad enough to depend upon me. Now that their feet have struck the hardshore they're off again. Within a week they will be up to new schemes ofvillainy."
Thoroughly decided in his mind that Hansen and Malvin, once havinggained the shore, had left him to shift for himself, Ralph hesitatedabout his next move.
The storm had abated, but muttering peals of thunder and spasmodicflashes of lightning showed that it was still hovering about thevicinity. The rain fell in torrents, but Ralph was already so thoroughlysoaked that this caused him but small inconvenience. His thoughts werecentered on the treachery of the other survivors. The least they mighthave done, he mused, would have been to await his coming on shore. Thenthey could have taken counsel together and decided upon their next move.
The strain of the night had told upon the boy. He felt nervous,irritable and chilled. Even La Rue's fate, much as it had bothered himat first (rascal though the man was), now held little of interest forhim. His sole idea was to find some place of shelter, and then he wouldsleep--and sleep, till nature was recuperated.
It was no light task that the boy had performed. Few persons but thosewho knew the river could have imagined the tireless skill and vigilancenecessary, if a craft, once caught in the vortex of a St. Lawrencestorm, was to be kept from disaster.
The trust imposed in him Ralph had loyally carried out while opportunityserved. It was through no fault of his that, caught in a swirling eddywith an inexperienced engineer to answer his signals, the _RiverSwallow_ lay helpless.
And yet Ralph was not weak enough to blame anybody but himself. He sawnow, and all too clearly, that it had been an error of judgment for himto send both Harry Ware and Percy Simmons ashore at Piquetville. Witheven one of them to aid him, he might have been able to stand off therascals who wanted to gain possession of the _River Swallow_ till aid ofsome sort arrived.
All these thoughts, and many others, surged through his mind as,brain-sick, footsore and wet to the skin, he stood on the beach andlooked at the dark hulk on the waters which he knew was the _RiverSwallow_. Ralph had never, in all his adventurous times, felt so muchlike quitting as he did right then and there.
He ran over in memory other predicaments in which he had been placed:The ruined mission from which he had had to escape by a swaying ropefrom a tower that rose a hundred feet above the solid ground; theterrible trap into which the boys had fallen in the Northwest, and fromwhich they had escaped only by a desperate leap across a boiling,swirling river, ultimately to seek refuge on a drifting log. Once morehe recollected their experiences in the Canadian Rockies; the dreadmoment when the bear almost had them in his grasp at the entrance to thesubterranean cavern.
But all these paled into insignificance in his mind beside the presentsituation.
In all the predicaments which his excited mind had hastily recalled itwas either his life or his companion's that was at stake. Now, however,in addition to the personal equation, the salvation of a fine craft--the_River Swallow_--depended upon his grit and enterprise.
"Well, there's no use standing here," he said to himself, as he listenedto the rumbling of the storm dying away in the distance.
Before the tempest broke the weather had been hot, oppressive, in fact.Now the air had become almost chilly in contrast. Ralph, in his wetclothes, shuddered. The night breeze that crept along in the wake of thestorm made him feel that a warm fire would be welcome.
"No use standing still here," he mused; "there's nothing to be done tillmorning, at any rate. If this is the mainland, there should be somefarmer's house in sight. In the event that we have struck an island, itseems almost equally positive that some one is living upon it."
He sat down in the lee of a rock, sheltered from the driving rain andthe wind, and considered his position. On second thoughts, it did notseem so serious. He had checkmated a gang of ruffians, and as he thoughtof this he gave his chest a thump.
The wallet with the fortune within its transparent inside cover wasstill there. He controlled the situation. The next morning he resolvedthat, no matter what happened, he would deliver the entire collection tothe authorities.
"Thank goodness, Hansen did not guess what I had taken," he said tohimself. "In fact, I doubt if either Malvin or Hawke would have madeenough of a confidant of him to let him know that they had such a sum inprecious stones to sneak across the border. So far as I can see, thisHansen was a sort of weak-kneed go-between. He was entirely in theirpower. Their tool, in fact."
Musing in this way, Ralph arose to his feet. The rain still beat down,but it was not as violent as before.
Far off, intermittent flashes could be seen on the horizon. The stormhad plainly passed.
Ralph patted the pocket wherein reposed the gems.
"Checkmated," he chuckled, "checkmated, by all that's wonderful! Now forsome sleep and then--to-morrow."
The Border Boys Along the St. Lawrence Page 29
