Up the River Part 11

About two o'clock in the afternoon, when we had finished our dinners, both in the after and the forward cabin, I saw a boat put off from the sh.o.r.e. The person in the stern sheets had a familiar look, though I did not recognize him till he came on deck.

"I hope you are quite well, Captain Garningham," said he, advancing towards me with extended hand.

It was Cornwood, who had been with us up the St. Johns in the double capacity of guide and pilot, to say nothing of a third capacity as conspirator. While I could not prove it, I was satisfied that he was employed by Captain Boomsby to get me out of the way in some mild manner. He had caused a drunken mulatto to be employed as a waiter in the fore-cabin, who was another of the conspirators. But both of them had been foiled; though, if my father had not arrived at the scene of action when he did, I might not have been privileged to tell my story.

The waiter had been sentenced to a term as a convict, though Cornwood had been his counsel.

I thought it was rather impudent of Cornwood to come on board of the Sylvania after what had happened; but bra.s.s and impudence were the princ.i.p.al elements of his stock-in-trade. He seemed to have as much a.s.surance as though his relations had been entirely pleasant with me.

He was a man of decided ability, though not as a lawyer. He knew more about Florida than any other man I had met; and I had never known him, in the month of my intimacy with him, to be ignorant of any subject, from the navigation of an interior lake or river to the scientific name of a plant or animal. In spite of the harm he had intended to do me, through his agent, I had a great respect for his ability.

"You found it rough outside, Captain Garningham," said Cornwood, when he had disposed of the commonplace introductories.

"Too rough for the ladies; and I came in here to find a smoother sea,"

I replied.

"The storm won't last long, as it comes from the southward," he added.

"When did you leave Jacksonville, Mr. Cornwood?" I asked, for I thought I had seen him in the street the day before.

"I came up in the morning boat," he replied. "It is getting to be very dull in Jacksonville, and I thought I might find something to do here, for fishing and hunting parties often come to St. Augustine without stopping at the city."

"We had some thought of trying the fish at Indian River as we went along; but circ.u.mstances do not allow us to stop, and we shall run direct for Key West. Was there anything new in regard to the robbery of the bank messenger this morning?"

"I heard nothing. But your friend, Captain Boomsby, is in great trouble," said Cornwood, smiling, as though the saloon-keeper's trouble, whatever it was, could not produce a deep impression on his late employe.

"What is the matter with the captain?" I asked, with interest.

"His son Nick has disappeared."

"Nick disappeared!" I exclaimed, not a little astonished.

"He cannot be found, though his father searched from six o'clock this morning till the time I left."

"When did his father first miss him?"

"It appears that Nick tended bar till after midnight. The old man was too full to sit up any longer, and he left Nick to close the bar. The captain says his son did not sleep in the house last night, and he has no idea when or where he went."

"Very likely he left in the first train this morning," I suggested, recalling all that had pa.s.sed between Nick and me the day before.

"No, he didn't, for his father went to the station, and pa.s.sed through the train just before it started. He did not leave by railroad, or come up the river in the Hampton, or I should have seen him."

"Nick has something like sharpness, and he knew he could not get off on the morning train. But he could have walked to Baldwin between the time he closed the bar and nine o'clock, and taken the train there," I added.

"I don't believe Nick walked twenty miles: he is too lazy to do anything of the kind," added Cornwood, with a smile of incredulity.

"But he is not a great loss to his father; and he may make his way when he is thrown on his own resources. There was another piece of news in Jacksonville this morning."

"What was that?" I inquired.

"But I suppose you know more about this matter than any one in the city. It was said that Colonel Shepard's yacht, in which he was going to New Orleans, left without him or his family. Is that a fact?"

"It is true, to the letter," I replied. "I took the colonel and his family on board of the Sylvania, and they are in the cabin now."

"That's very odd--that Captain Blastblow should leave without his pa.s.sengers," added Cornwood. "What does it mean?"

"That is more than any one on board of the Sylvania can explain."

"Was there any money on board of the yacht--I forget her name, though I have heard you mention it several times?"

"The Islander: she is the twin-sister of the Sylvania, and as near like her as one pin is like another," I answered. "I am not aware that there was any money on board of her; and I should say there was not, for the pa.s.sengers had not sent their baggage on board."

"Does any one know where she is gone?"

"She is bound to the south, for we saw her off St. Johns' bar headed in that direction. The pilots off the St. Augustine light saw her to-day noon. We were chasing her when our pa.s.sengers desired to get out of the heavy sea."

"I should think Colonel Shepard would have some idea of the motives of Captain Blastblow."

"He has no more idea than I have, and I have none. We are inclined to believe that the captain misunderstood his orders, for Colonel Shepard was in doubt whether or not he should be able to go up the Mississippi with us. When the mail got in yesterday afternoon, he wrote a card with his instructions to Captain Blastblow on it, and sent it off to the Islander by Nick Boomsby, who happened to be talking to me in the post-office at the time."

"Sent it off by Nick Boomsby," repeated Cornwood; but he did not appear to be astonished. "How came Nick to be about at that time?"

I told my late guide and pilot all that pa.s.sed between me and the son of my ancient enemy, to which he listened with deep interest. He seemed to be engaged in earnest thought all the time, as though Nick's movements had some meaning to him, though not a particle to me. I told him I was in Captain Boomsby's saloon to say good-by to him at the time the robbery of the messenger occurred. He questioned me very minutely in regard to the affair, and I told him all I knew about it.

"Buckner sent for me to act as his counsel; but I thought I could make more by coming down here," added Cornwood. "I lost one case a few days ago, and I don't care to lose another yet awhile."

Cornwood laughed as he alluded to his defence of Griffin Leeds, the mulatto employed by him to do his bidding on our excursion to the interior.

"Have you any doubt that Buckner is the man who robbed the messenger of the four thousand dollars?" I asked, rather to bring him out than because I valued his opinion in a detective case.

"Not the slightest in the world; but I should not be surprised to learn that he gave Nick a hundred dollars, or something of that sort, to clear out at just this time," replied Cornwood, easily.

"I don't see how that could have been," I protested. "Nick could not have seen Buckner after the money was stolen, unless he visited him in the lock-up."

"That was easily enough done."

"But some officer would have heard what pa.s.sed between them. Besides, Buckner had no money, for none was found upon him when he was arrested."

"Buckner hid the money, but he stowed away enough to see him through the trial. As the case now stands, they can't convict the man, for Nick was the most important witness. He saw Buckner take the money. I have no doubt Buckner will be discharged to-day," said Cornwood, confidently.

"Was that the reason you would not act as his counsel?" I asked, for the late pilot's statements seemed to be contradictory.

"What you have told me, Captain Garningham, entirely changes my opinion. You were present, and you have told me exactly how the affair happened. I supposed Peverell saw Buckner take the package. That makes all the difference in the world in a court of law. No one saw Buckner take the money, according to your evidence, except Nick. The supposed robber was arrested down the wharf; he was searched, all the holes and corners, including the river, were searched for the package, but it could not be found. What evidence is there that Buckner took it?"

"I don't see any, except that of Nick Boomsby; and he don't tell his story twice alike," I replied. "But, if Buckner did not take the money, I can't see who did take it. I saw the messenger lay the package on the counter; and the next thing I saw was Nick leaping over the counter."

"I don't say that Buckner did not take the package; on the contrary, I believe he did take it; only there is not evidence enough to convict him without Nick," argued Cornwood. "If I had known that Nick was to be out of the way, I certainly should have taken the case, for a man who has stolen four thousand dollars can afford to pay the lawyer well who gets him out of the sc.r.a.pe."

I was disgusted with this logic, though it was perfectly consistent with all I knew of the man. I did not care to say anything more about the case.

"After hearing your version of the affair, Captain Garningham, I am inclined to return to Jacksonville this afternoon, and offer my services to the prisoner. When he gets out of jail he will have money enough to pay me handsomely," chuckled the lawyer; "but perhaps I can do something better if I can recover Colonel Shepard's lost steam-yacht."