Sam Steele's Adventures on Land and Sea

Chapter XIX

I regret to say that my father’s welcome was not especially cordial. Nevertheless, he was for some reason evidently pleased by the sudden appearance of his son and his brother–in–law. Releasing himself gently from my clinging embrace, he said, in his deep, grave voice:

“Come in and sit down. I never thought to see you again, Sam; and, much less you, Naboth Perkins. But now that you’re here, we’ll have a few mutual explanations.”

Mrs. Ranck, a few paces behind him, was bristling like a frightened cat.

“If them thieves an’ scoundrels enters this house, I’ll go out!” she fairly screamed, in her shrill voice.

“Be quiet!” commanded the Captain, sternly. “This is my house; and, although it’s all that my friends have left to me,” he added, bitterly, “I’m still the master under my own roof. Sit down, Perkins, sit down, Sam, my lad.”

A sudden tenderness that crept into the last words seemed to rouse the woman to fury.

“That’s the boy that robbed you!” she cried, pointing at me a trembling, bony finger. “That’s the boy that skinned the house of all your valeybles and treasures as soon as he thought you was dead, and couldn’t come back to punish him! An’ stole all my savin’s too; and swore he’d be a pirate and murder and steal all his life; an’ that the man,” turning fiercely upon my horrified uncle, “as aided an’ abetted him in his wickedness, an’ threatened to kill me if I interfered with Sam’s carryin’ away of your property! Cap’n Steele, how dare you harbor sich varmints? Drive ’em out, this instant, or I’ll go myself. This house can’t hold Sam Steele, the robber, and me at the same time!”

Captain Steele looked toward me gravely as I stood regarding the woman with unmistakable amazement. Then he turned to Naboth Perkins, to find the little man doubled up in his chair and shaking with silent laughter. A moment later he began to gasp and choke and cough, until, just as he appeared to be on the verge of convulsions, he suddenly straightened up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Cap’n Steele, sir,” he said, “this is the best show I ever had a reserved seat at, an’ the admission’s free gratis for nothin’! Why, you measly old she–tiger,” turning with stern abruptness to Mrs. Ranck, “did you ever think, fer a minute, that such a lyin’ tale as you’ve trumped up would deceive grown men?”

Mrs. Ranck turned away and caught her shawl from a peg.

“I’ll go,” she said, sullenly.

“No, you don’t!” exclaimed Mr. Perkins, bounding between her and the door of her room, toward which she was hastening; “you’ll stay right here till this mystery is cleared up. For, if I understand Cap’n Steele aright, he can’t find the property he left in this house, ner imagine what’s become of it; an’ you’ve been stuffing him with lies about Sam’s running away with it. Am I right Cap’n?”

My father nodded, gazing with lowering brow upon the cowed and trembling form of the housekeeper.

“The Cap’n’s property an’ his savin’s didn’t walk away by themselves,” continued Uncle Naboth, “and no one could’ a’ took ’em except Sam or this woman. Very good. They’re both here, now, an’ you’re going to clear up the mystery and get your money back, Cap’n, before you takes your eye off’n either one. Just flop into that chair, Mrs. Ranck, an’ if you try to wiggle away I’ll call the police!”

The woman obeyed. A dull glaze had come over her eyes, and her features were white and set. In all her cunning plotting she had never imagined that I or my uncle would ever return to Batteraft to confound her. She believed that the knowledge that I was in her debt would prevent my coming back, in any event, and she fully expected me to be buffeted here and there about the world, with never a chance of my being again heard of in my old home.

What a mistake she had made! But it was all owing to this little fat man whom she had driven thoughtlessly from her door the day that I was sent away into exile. She had never heard of Naboth Perkins before; nor did she know, any more than I myself did at the time, of the partnership formerly existing between the two men, or even the fact of their relationship. She felt that she was caught in a trap, in some unexpected way, and the disaster stunned her.

Captain Steele filled and lighted his pipe before the silence of the little group was again broken. Then, turning to me, he asked:

“Why did you believe I was dead?”

“One of your sailors brought the news, sir, and told us of the wreck. He gave Mrs. Ranck your watch and ring, which he believed were taken from your dead body.”

“It’s a lie!” snapped the woman, desperately. “I never seen the watch and ring; but he said the Cap’n was dead, all right, an’ that’s why Sam run away with the property.”

“Who was the sailor?” enquired my father, thoughtfully.

“Ned Britton, sir.”

“Aye, an honest, worthy lad, who sailed with me for years. And he had the watch and ring?”

“Yes, sir. Ned was taken with a fever when he escaped from the wreck, and after he recovered they told him that several bodies had been washed ashore and buried by the villagers. On one of the bodies they found the watch and ring, so Ned naturally thought you had perished.”

“When the ship broke up,” said Captain Steele, slowly, “and I knew the end had come, I sent one of my lads to my cabin to get my trinkets while I attended to lowering the boats. I never saw him again. For my part, my leg was crushed by a falling mast, but I got entangled in the rigging and the mast floated me to a little island where a dozen fisher–folks lived. One was a bit of a doctor, and cut away my mangled leg and nursed me back to life. While I waited for a ship to touch the island I regained my strength and made myself a new leg out of cotton–wood. Then, one day, a schooner carried me to Plymouth, and the Captain, who was a kindly man, loaned me enough money to bring me to Batteraft where I thought I’d find my savings; enough to buy a new ship and start business again. But Mrs. Ranck met me with the news that my son had stripped the house of all my valuables and run away with a man that was known to be a pirate. My room was quite bare, I found, and Mrs. Ranck claimed she had hardly enough left of her savings to buy food with. So here I was, a cripple and condemned to poverty after a successful career; and it’s no wonder my thoughts were bitter towards my son, whom I never would have believed could act so ungratefully. My only comfort was that Sam had believed me dead.”

Uncle Naboth nodded approval.

“Quite proper, sir,” he said, “an’ all quite right and shipshape. Sam didn’t take a penny’s worth from this house; but I made him my partner, in your place, and we’ve had a successful voyage and come back rich as Croesuses. You’ll live in clover, from this time on, Cap’n Steele, even if you never get back the property Mrs. Ranck has robbed you of. But why not make her give it up? She can’t have squandered it on riotous living, by the looks of her.”

Captain Steele turned to the housekeeper.

“What have you to say, Mrs. Ranck?” he asked.

“It’s all a pack o’ lies,” she snarled, “but there’s no call for you to believe me if you don’t want to. One thing’s certain, though. This is my house, an’ the deed of it’s in my name. You’ll have to clear out o’ here, all three of you, or I’ll have the law on you an’ put you out!”

Captain Steele arose calmly and seized the woman by her arms. In spite of her screams and struggles he carried her to his own little room and thrust her in, locking the door safely upon her.

“Now,” said he, “let’s explore the place and see what we can find. I’ve never been in Mrs. Ranck’s room, for until today I had no suspicions of her. Come with me. If she’s honest we shall find nothing, for she can’t have disposed of the property.”

“Right you are, sir,” cried Uncle Naboth, springing up; and we all three at once proceeded to enter the room the housekeeper had for so many years reserved for her own use.

It was simply and plainly furnished, and a single glance served to convince us that it contained no evidence whatever of the missing property.

“Here’s the treasure house, sir,” he exclaimed triumphantly.

“Strange!” said my father, musingly. “There were nine cases and three chests, besides the great sea–chest that I found still in my room, although emptied of all its contents. Whatever could have become of them all?”

“Dad,” I exclaimed, suddenly, “I remember there used to be a sort of cellar under this room, that could only be reached by a trap–door.”

“True,” replied my father; “I remember that, too. But where is the trap?”

Uncle Naboth was already making a careful inspection of the old rag carpet that covered the floor. In one corner the tacks seemed far apart and scanty. He seized the carpet and jerked it away from the fastenings, disclosing a small square trap with an iron ring in the center.

“Here’s the treasure house, sir,” he announced triumphantly.

“Get a candle, Sam,” said my father, gravely.

When it was brought, all three of us descended the narrow stairs to the underground room, where the cases and chests were speedily found, all stored in orderly fashion against the walls. The contents of the great sea chest, which she had doubtless removed before admitting me to the Captain’s room, had been placed in boxes which Mrs. Ranck had secured from the grocery store. In addition to Captain Steele’s property, there was also a brass kettle almost full of gold and silver coins, which the miserly old woman had saved from the money my father had given her to clothe and care for me, as well as to defray the household expenses while the sailor was away upon his voyages.

Perhaps her own wages were added to this store, as well; anyway, Captain Steele seemed to think so. For, after assuring himself that all his missing property was safe, he carried the kettle up to the living room and proceeded to liberate Mrs. Ranck. When, scowling but subdued, she crept from the little room, my father offered to give to her the entire contents of the kettle if she would freely transfer to him the deed to the house, and quit Batteraft for good and all.

“It’s more than you deserve,” said he, “but I don’t want to go to the police in this matter unless you force me to. Take the money and go, and never let me see your face in Batteraft again.”

Of course she accepted the generous proposition. After gathering her few clothes into a bundle, she took her treasure and left the house. The first train that left Batteraft carried her with it, and I have never seen her since.

I acknowledge that I watched her go with a lighter and happier heart than I had known for months.

“It was in this way that she once drove me from my old home, father,” I said. “But it can’t be such a bad world, after all. For, if the wicked sometimes appear to triumph, they are usually punished in the end, and now that Mrs. Ranck has passed out of our lives we ought to be very happy again.”

“We will be, Sam!” returned my father, earnestly, as he affectionately pressed my hand.

“Hooray!” yelled Uncle Naboth.