Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast; or, Through Storm and Stress to Florida

He found a badly frightened negro, rather a young fellow, and as black as tar. The whites of his eyes looked staring as he followed the movements of that threatening gun, every time Jack moved.

"Come, get up here, and step nearer the fire," said Jack. "When we have company we always like to entertain them in proper style. Now, sit down here, and give an account of yourself. What's your name, to start with?"

George had come tumbling out of the depths of the Wireless, aroused by the sound of voices, although Jack had not been talking in an excited way. Herb, Jimmy and Josh were all on hand, with blankets wrapped about them; for the night air was a bit keen, and they had on only their underclothing and pajamas.

But Nick could be heard snoring away contentedly in his snug nest, dead to the world and all its cares. Nor did any one think to take the trouble to arouse the fat boy, so that he calmly slept through the entire proceedings.

"I'se Jawge Washington Thomas; an' I libs back dar in de kentry at er place called Pokomoke City, sah," the prowler promptly answered, as though he realized that since he had now fallen into the hands of these young fellows, he might as well make a clean breast of it.

"And what are you doing here on the shore of Chincoteague Bay, creeping into a camp, and raiding our provisions?" pursued the one who held the gun.

"'Deed, an' I done must a been a fool," sighed the prisoner; "an' dat's no lie, tuh try an' git dem ducks like er fox, w'en I orter stepped up, bold like, an' asked yuh foh a bite. But I was dat hungry, boss, I jes' couldn't help it. I seen yuh put dem fowls in de little hole in de groun', an' somethin' tempts me tuh hang 'round till dey orter be done foh suah."

"But you haven't told us why you're here, instead of over in Pokomoke City, where you belong, George?" went on Jack, meaning to have the whole story.

"I'se gwine tuh tell yuh hit all, boss, 'deed I is. Den yuh kin do what yuh want wid me, only foh de love o' misery gib me sumpin tuh eat 'fore yuh takes me down tuh Franklin City, what de sheriff is. I'se ben hidin' out now foh nigh a month. Yuh see I done git in a muss wid a white man, an' we had a scuffle. He done trip an' cut his haid on a stone when he falls down; but dey declar I cut him. 'Taint nothin' serious like, gib yuh mah word on it, boss; an' Hank he ben up an' 'round dis three weeks an' more. But dey got it in foh me ober dere, an' I ain't gwine tuh take de chances ob gittin' kotched."

"And so you've been hiding out for a whole month, have you, George?" Jack asked, now lowering his gun, since he realized there was no longer any necessity for standing guard over the dejected chap, hungry, ragged and forlorn as he seemed to be.

"Dat's jes' what I done has, sah. At fust I 'spected tuh make mah way tuh Baltimore, 'case dar I got a brudder; but I jest cudn't go 'way, yuh see, widout mah wife an' two chillen. So I kept right on hangin' 'round hyah, an' tryin' tuh git word tuh dem. I has a letter from Susie jest yisterday, sayin' as how she'd jine me termorry at de Scooter Landin', whar a boat is loadin' wid lumber foh Baltimore. An' my Susie sez as how she got de money tuh take us all dar."

"That sounds reasonable enough, George. Now tell us why you crawled into camp and tried to lift those roast ducks?" Jack asked, turning to wink at his chums, who in their odd garb were gathered around, listening and grinning.

"Jes' as I was sayin', boss; I seen yuh come in here las' night, an' git ready tuh camp. Wanted tuh ask yuh foh sompin' tuh eat de wust kin', but w'en I done sees de guns yuh kerry, I got cold feet; 'case I kinder s'pected yuh mout be all alookin' foh me. So I hangs 'round till I reckons de fowls dey must be ready tuh eat. Den I slicks in, an' tried tuh grab one. Dat's de whole story, boss, gib yuh mah word it is. An' I hopes yuh belibes me."

"See here, George, when a man gives evidence in court he is expected to prove it, if he can," Jack remarked, seriously. "Now, that's a rather interesting story you tell; but how can we know that it's true? You mentioned receiving a letter from your wife a bit ago; suppose you show it to us. That would go a great ways toward making us believe; and getting you a breakfast in the bargain."

"Good for you, Jack!" exclaimed the skipper of the Wireless.

"A bully idea!" commented Josh; while the other two nodded their heads, as if they fully backed these sentiments.

Jawge Washington Thomas seemed in no wise dismayed by this proposition. They saw a wide grin expand across his sable face as he immediately thrust a hand into the pocket of the ragged jacket he wore over his faded cotton shirt.

"Dat seems tuh be de right thing, sah," he remarked, as he drew something out. "I'se right glad now I done kep' dis little letter. Beckons as how I read de same half a million times dis last twenty-foah hours. Dar she be, sah. Hopes as how yuh kin make out de writin'. My Susie she smart gal, 'fore she marry dis good-foh nothin' nigga; she eben done teach school. Reckon she too good foh me, boss; but if I eber gits up in Baltimore, I'se gwine tuh do the right thing by Susie, gib yuh my word I is, sah."

The boys crowded around, each eager to see what sort of a letter Susie had sent to her man, in his time of trouble. This was what they made out, although the missive had been handled so often by the fugitive that it was well begrimed:

"George – The schooner Terrapin will be at Scooter's Landing day after tomorrow, Thursday. I sold out everything, and will be aboard with the children, bound for Baltimore. We can live here in Pokomoke no longer. Be on the lookout. Your wife Susie."

That was all, but it must have brought a lot of hope to the wretched fugitive, who believed that he would be tarred and feathered, or else lynched, if ever he was caught by those Maryland whites. And his claim that Susie had an education Jack saw was well founded.

"How about it, boys; shall we take George to Franklin City, or give him a good breakfast and let him wait for Susie and the kids?" asked Jack, though he felt positive as to what the answer would be before he spoke.

"He can have half of my duck!" announced Herb.

"And the whole of mine," echoed Josh.

"That settles it," laughed Jack. "So, George Washington Thomas, draw right up to the fire and begin operations. A starving man can be excused for doing lots of things that in a fellow with a full stomach might appear to be a bad go. We'll forgive you this time; and hope that when you get to Baltimore, you'll show Susie how you can work for a woman who stands by her man like she has."

"I'se gwine tuh, boss; I'se got mah mind made up on dat, I tells yuh," declared the fugitive, with an air of determination that Jack liked to see.

And as his hunger was such a real thing, they forced him to begin to eat without further delay. Having dressed themselves, for the dawn was now coming on, they started operations looking toward breakfast, wishing to give the poor fellow a treat in the way of some hot coffee and a rasher of bacon.

Fancy the amazement of Nick, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, on discovering an unknown negro, seated on a log, with a tin plate on his knees, and devouring one of the ducks that had been placed in the primitive oven the night before.

"W-w-what's all this mean? Who's your friend, and whose duck is he making 'way with, fellows? I hope now you haven't let me sleep on, just to play a trick on me and leave a rack of bones on my dish. Did he drop down out of the sky, or have you engaged a pilot for the treacherous waters of the lower Chincoteague Bay?" was the way he broke out, as he discovered his chums grinning.

When he heard the story, Nick hardly knew whether to be provoked, or take it as a joke, that he had been allowed to sleep through it all.

"But I ain't going to be outdone by any of you," he said, magnanimously; "and if George Washington can get away with another whole duck, let him tackle mine!"

CHAPTER X.

NICK IN SEARCH OF A MERMAID

"Good boy, Nick!" cried George, who knew what a great sacrifice the fat boy had in mind, when he offered to give up his share to the hungry stranger.

"But there's no need of it," declared Josh. "You know I don't have any appetite in the morning, so he's eating my duck."

"And as for me," piped up Herb, "I'm satisfied with half a bird. Besides, somehow, duck for breakfast seems rather strong. I'm used to something light – a rasher of bacon, flapjacks, or hominy, with coffee. So hold your horses, Nick, and get ready to take your turn."

After the meal had been completed, preparations were made looking toward an early start. They anticipated having a hard day's work, several inlets having to be crossed, with the ocean setting in heavy against them, it might be.

Jack had heard some pretty wild stories concerning the perils that might be expected while crossing these same inlets, where at the full sweep of the tide small boats were in danger of being upset in the mad swirl.

He hardly believed more than half of what he heard, however, knowing how prone the natives are to exaggerate things. Besides, the staunch motor boats were not in the same class as the clumsy craft used by those who navigated these shoal waters along the Virginia coast.

They said good-bye to the fugitive black. Some of them, in the generosity of their boyish hearts, had slipped quarters and half dollars in the ready hand of the fellow; and his eyes danced with happiness as he stood there, waving the skippers and crews of the little flotilla farewell.

"It was a mighty lucky thing for George Washington that he dropped into our camp last night," laughed Herb, as they began to lose sight of the waving hat of the negro.

"Yes, and just as lucky that he made a failure of his job," remarked Jack, for they were moving along close together, so that it was easy to talk back and forth. "If he'd managed to get away with a duck or two, that would have ended it all. As it is, he's holding a nice little bunch of coin, that will help pay for the grub, after he gets to Baltimore with his family."

"I suppose it's a square deal George gave us?" queried Josh.

"Now, what do you mean by that?" demanded Herb.

"He couldn't have been playing a trick on us, could he?" the other went on; for Josh was often inclined to be somewhat suspicious.

"Come off!" scoffed George.

"That's too bad, Josh, for you to suspect him of trying to pull the wool over our eyes," Jack declared, reproachfully.

"Oh! I don't doubt him, so to speak," Josh protested; "but you know I'd hate everlastingly to be done by a coon."

"That letter was genuine enough," observed Jack, thoughtfully; "and fellows, perhaps you didn't notice the thing, but there were blurs on that writing, just as if somebody had been crying, and the tears dropped on the paper. Whether it was poor old George Washington, feeling awful lonely, and hungry, who wept; or his wife while she was writing the note, doesn't matter. But those marks went a big way toward convincing me his story was genuine."

Somehow Josh turned red, and no more was said. Those happy-go-lucky lads could feel for the sentiment that had caused those tears.