Up The Baltic Part 55

"Because, if you are going out to meet the ship, in order to put us on board--"

"I'm not going for any such purpose," interposed the boatswain. "I shouldn't take all that trouble on your account."

"But where are you going?"

"That's my affair, my lad."

"We don't mean to give you any trouble on our account," said Sanford, who could not readily dispossess himself of the belief that the expedition was to put his party on board of the ship when she hove in sight.

"Of course you don't, my tender lambs. You have been so anxious to find the ship, and get on board, it would be cruel to suspect you of any mischief," laughed Peaks.

"But, honor bright, Mr. Peaks, whatever we intended, we are ready now to do just what you say, and return to the ship as soon as we can."

"You are all nice boys. You have had a good time, and I think you ought to be satisfied."

"We are satisfied; but I suppose we shall have no liberty again, after we go on board."

"Perhaps you will; the princ.i.p.al isn't hard with the boys when they come right square up to the mark; but you can't humbug him."

"But, honestly, Mr. Peaks, we tried to find the ship, and--"

"There, there, lads," interposed the boatswain, "I don't believe you will have any liberty."

"Why not?"

"Because you want to humbug the princ.i.p.al; and me, too--but that's no account. If you want to make the best of it, toe the mark. Don't have any lies in your heart or on your tongue. Tell the whole truth, and you will make more by it; but tell the truth whether you make anything or not."

"You won't believe anything we say," protested Sanford.

"Of course I won't, when you are lying. I call things by their right names."

"We didn't stave the boat at Christiansand."

"Yes, you did," replied Peaks, plumply.

"If you think so, it's no use talking."

"Certainly not; don't talk, then."

Sanford was not prepared for so grave a charge as that of causing the accident to the second cutter; and if the princ.i.p.al was of the same mind as the boatswain, the case would go hard with the runaways. The c.o.xswain and Stockwell went into the bow of the little steamer to discuss their situation, which they did very earnestly for a couple of hours.

"There's the ship!" exclaimed Sanford, as he identified the Young America, half a mile distant, leading the squadron into the harbor of Stockholm.

"So it is; now we are in for it. Peaks has come out here with us to make sure that we don't get away from him," added Stockwell.

"If I had known as much last night as I know now, I would have cleared out, in spite of consul and police. If we are to be charged with smashing the second cutter, we shall not go on sh.o.r.e again this summer."

"That's so. But this boat is not headed for the ship. Peaks don't see her."

"Yes, he does; there isn't a craft of any sort within five miles of us that he don't see."

"There's the ship, Mr. Peaks," shouted Stockwell.

"I see her."

But the boatswain continued on his course, paying no attention to the ship. The squadron disappeared among the islands, and the steamer went out into the Baltic, keeping well in towards the sh.o.r.e. When any small schooner appeared, he ran up and examined her very carefully, overhauling three in this manner in the course of the forenoon. At noon the boatswain piped all hands to dinner, for he had procured a supply of provisions at the hotel. Though he had chartered the steamer with Ole acting as an interpreter, he gave no hint of his plans or purposes. He made signs to the helmsman where to go, and occasionally gave directions through Ole.

The fourth small schooner that he examined proved to be the Rensdyr, and Peaks identified her by seeing Clyde Blacklock, who stood on the forecastle, looking out for the approaches to Stockholm. Possibly he had seen the Young America, which pa.s.sed the schooner, though a mile distant.

"Lay her alongside that small vessel," said Peaks to Ole.

"That one!" exclaimed Ole, whose brown face seemed to grow pale, as he looked at the Rensdyr.

"That's what I say, my lad."

The waif actually trembled; but he spoke to the helmsman, who immediately put the boat about, and headed her towards Stockholm.

"No," said Peaks, sternly. "That vessel."

He pointed to her, and Ole spoke again to the steersman, but without any better result. The boatswain was not to be thwarted. Going forward, he took the little wheel into his own hands, and headed the steamer towards the Rensdyr. Indicating by his signs what he wanted, the man at the helm seemed to be quite willing to obey orders when he knew what was wanted.

"Don't go to that vessel, Mr. Peaks," cried Ole, in an agony of terror.

"Why, my lad, what's the matter with you?"

"That's the Rensdyr!"

"I know it."

"He will kill me," groaned Ole.

"Who will?"

"Captain Olaf."

"Well, who's he?"

"He is the captain of the Rensdyr. He will kill me."

"No, he won't, my hearty. You shall have fair play. Who is he?"

"My step-father, Olaf Petersen. He beat me and starved me, and I ran away from the Rensdyr in the boat."

"O, ho! The story is out--is it?"

"That's the whole truth, sir; it is, Mr. Peaks," protested Ole. "Don't go to her!"

"Don't you be alarmed. You shall have fair play," added the stout boatswain, as the steamer ran alongside the schooner, and the man at the bow made her fast.