Young Captain Jack; Or, The Son of a Soldier, Alger and Stratemeyer [best contemporary novels txt] 📗

St. John pulling strongly, but somewhat wildly—a pace he could not keep up. Jack rowed strongly, too, but kept himself somewhat in reserve.

When half the distance to the Sister Rocks was covered St. John was four boat-lengths ahead.

"Ha! what did I tell you!" he cried. "I will beat you, and beat you badly, too!"

"'He laughs best who laughs last,'" quoted Jack. "Marion, sit a little more to the left, please. There, that's it—now we'll go along straighter."

"I wish I could help row," she said. "But that wouldn't be fair. But, oh, Jack! you must beat him!"

Slowly, but surely, they approached the Sister Rocks. Being ahead, St. John turned in, to take the shortest cut around the turning-stake, if such the rocks may be called.

"Too bad, Jack, you will have to go outside," cried Marion.

"Never mind, I'll beat him, anyway," answered our hero, and now let himself out.

The added strength to his stroke soon told, and before long he began to crawl close to St. John's craft. Then he overlapped his opponent and forged ahead.

"Hurrah! you are ahead!" cried Marion excitedly, but in a voice her cousin might not hear. "Keep up, Jack; you are doing wonderfully well."

Our hero did keep up, and when he reached the first of the Sister Rocks he was more than two boat-lengths ahead.

He knew the rocks well, and glided around them skillfully, with just enough water between the rocks and the boat to make the turning a safe one.

"Now for the home stretch!" he murmured, and began to pull as never before. He felt certain he could defeat St. John, but he wished to make the defeat as large as possible. "He'll find even a nobody can row," he told himself, with grim satisfaction.

To have Jack go ahead of him drove St. John frantic, and as he drew closer to the rocks he became wildly excited.

"He must not win this race—he a mere nobody," he muttered. "What will Marion think if he wins?"

The thought was maddening, and he pulled desperately, first on one oar and then on the other. Around the rocks the waters ran swiftly, and before he knew it there came a crash and his craft was stove in and upset. He clutched at the gunwale of the boat, but missed it, and plunged headlong into the bay.

When the mishap occurred Jack was paying sole attention to the work cut out for him, consequently he did not notice what was taking place. Nor did Marion see the disaster until several seconds later.

"St. John will——" began the girl, and then turned deadly pale. "Oh, Jack!" she screamed.

"What's the matter?" he cried, and stopped rowing instantly.

"Look! look! St. John's boat has gone on the rocks and he is overboard!" she gasped.

"How foolish for him to row so close," was Jack's comment. And then he added, in something like disgust, "I reckon the race is off now."

"We must go back for him," went on Marion. "See, he has disappeared."

The girl was right, the weight of St. John's clothing had carried him beneath the surface. The swiftly running water had likewise caught him, and when he came up it was at a point fifty feet away from the nearest rock.

"He will be drowned, Jack!"

"Help! help!" came in a faint cry from the spendthrift. "Help me, Jack! Don't leave me to perish!"

"Keep up, I'm coming!" answered Jack readily, and as quickly as he could he turned his boat and pulled in the direction where St. John had again sunk from sight.

The spendthrift was but an indifferent swimmer, and the weight of his clothing was much against him. Moreover, he was scared to death, and threw his arms around wildly instead of doing his best to save himself.

He had gone down once, and now, as Jack's boat came closer, he went down a second time.

"Oh, Jack! he will surely be drowned!" gasped Marion, and she placed her hands over her eyes to keep out the awful sight.

"Look to the boat, I am going after him!" cried our hero suddenly, and leaping to the bow, he dove into the bay after the sinking young man.

LEAPING TO THE BOW, HE DOVE INTO THE BAY AFTER THE SINKING YOUNG MAN.—Page 92.

He had been afraid of bringing the craft closer and hitting St. John. Now he struck out boldly, and then made a second dive, coming up close to the spendthrift's side.

St. John wished to cry out, but the words would not come. Espying Jack, he grabbed for the lad and clutched him around the throat.

"Don't hold on so tight!" cried Jack in alarm. "I will save you. Take hold of my shoulder."

But St. John was too excited to be reasoned with, and instead of letting up, he clung closer than ever, so that soon both were in peril of going down.

"Let up, I say!" repeated Jack, and then, drawing up one knee, he literally forced the young man from him. Then, as St. John turned partly around, he caught him under the arms and began to tread water.

By this time Marion was at the oars, her temporary fear vanishing with the thought that not only St. John, but also Jack, was in peril. With caution she brought the rowboat closer.

"Catch hold there," said Jack, and seeing the boat, St. John made a wild clutch for the gunwale, nearly upsetting the craft.

"Don't—you'll have me in the water next!" screamed Marion. Then Jack steadied the boat, and St. John scrambled in over the stern, to fall on the bottom all but exhausted, and so frightened that he could not utter a word. Jack followed on board.

"Oh, St. John, what a narrow escape!" gasped Marion, after Jack was safe. "I thought you would surely be drowned!"

For the moment St. John did not speak. He sat up, panting heavily.

"The race is off," said Jack. "Shall I go after your boat, St. John?"

"I don't care," growled the spendthrift, at last. "Where is she?"

"Caught between the rocks."

"Let Old Ben get the boat," put in Marion. "Both of you had better get home with your wet clothing."

"I'm all right," answered the spendthrift coolly.

"St. John, Jack saved your life."

"Oh, I would have been all right—although, to be sure, my boat was wrecked."

"Why, what would you have done?" asked Marion, in astonishment.

"I would have swam to shore, or else crawled on the rocks and signaled Old Ben to come out after me," answered St. John.

He never thought to thank Jack, and this made Marion very indignant.

"Jack did a great deal for you, St. John," she exclaimed. "And he won the race, too," she added, and would say no more.

Without loss of time Jack rowed the boat back to the landing and St. John leaped out. He wished to assist his cousin, but she gave her hand to Jack. Then the three walked toward the plantation in almost utter silence.

CHAPTER XIII.

DR. MACKEY TELLS HIS STORY.

Left to herself, Mrs. Ruthven grew restless and began to walk around the garden, examining the flower beds and the shrubbery.

She did not like what St. John had had to say concerning Marion. While she did not exactly fear the young man, yet she had heard several reports which were not to his credit.

"They say he gambles on horse races," she thought. "And I have heard that the plantation is heavily mortgaged. Perhaps he wishes to marry Marion only for the money she may bring him. And then it is not right for him to remain around here when other men are at the front, serving their country's flag."

She remained in the garden for some time, and was on the point of moving for the house when she saw Old Ben approaching with Dr. Mackey.

"A stranger—and dressed in the uniform of a Confederate," she said, half aloud. "What can he wish here?"

"Good-afternoon, missus," said Old Ben, removing his hat. "Here am a gen'man as wishes to see yo'," and he bowed low.

"To see me?" said Mrs. Ruthven.

"Yes, madam," replied the doctor. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Mackey, a surgeon attached to the Fifth Virginia regiment," and he bowed gravely.

"I am happy to make the acquaintance of an officer in our army, sir," replied Mrs. Ruthven, and held out her hand.

"I understand the late Colonel Ruthven was also of our army, and died at a gallant charge on the field of Gettysburg," continued the doctor, as he shook hands.

"You have been correctly informed, doctor."

"De doctor brings most important information, missus," put in old Ben, who was almost exploding to tell what he knew.

"Is that so?" cried Mrs. Ruthven. "What is it?"

"I came to speak to you about yonder wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks," said the surgeon. "The sight of that wreck has taken me back to the affairs of about eleven years ago."

"So you were—you knew of it at that time, sir?"

"Yes, I was one of the passengers on the ship, madam."

"A passenger! I thought all of the passengers were drowned,—I mean all but those who came ashore here."

"I was not drowned. I was swept overboard before our ship came into the bay, and clung to a spar for hours, until the storm abated. Then a ship bound for Cuba came along and took me on board and carried me to Havana. The shock and the exposure were too much for me, and when I recovered physically the authorities at the hospital adjudged me insane, and I was placed in an asylum for years. Slowly my reason returned to me, and at last I left the island of Cuba and came to the Southern States. This was shortly after the war had broken out, and, knowing nothing else to do, I offered my services to General Lee, and was accepted and placed in the hospital corps."

"But why did you not come here before?"

"I could not tell exactly where the ship had stranded, and did not hear of the wreck on Hemlock Bluff rocks until about three weeks ago. Then I determined to make an investigation. I have now visited the wreck and have learned positively that it is that of the ship upon which myself, my wife, and our little son took passage."

"Yourself, your wife, and your little son," repeated Mrs. Ruthven, and then of a sudden her breast began to heave. "Your wife and son were with you?"

"Yes, madam."

"Wha—what was your little son's name?" she faltered, hardly able to go on.

"Jack."

"By golly, he must be our Jack's fadder!" burst out Old Ben. "Now don't dat beat de nation!"

"Jack! No! no! You—you cannot be our Jack's father!" cried Mrs. Ruthven.

"I understand you are very much attached to the boy," went on Dr. Mackey smoothly. "It is a pity. Yes, he is truly my son."

The tears came into Mrs. Ruthven's eyes, but she hastily brushed them away. "Jack does not look much like you," she declared.

"That is true, but he bears a strong resemblance to my dead brother Walter, and that is what made me certain he is my son. I saw him in town a day or two ago, although he did not see me."

"This is very strange." The lady hardly knew how to go on. The thought that she might have to give up Jack was a bitter one. "Have you spoken to Jack yet?"

"No. Isn't he here?"

"No, he went for a boat race, against his cousin, St. John Ruthven—I mean my nephew," she stammered.

"Do you expect him back soon?"

"I do not believe he will be gone more than an hour or so."

"Then I will wait."

"Of course, Dr. Mackey. Will you come into the house?"

The surgeon was willing, and the lady led the way. But presently she turned back to beckon to Old Ben.

"Go after Jack at once," she said. "Tell him it is important, but do not say anything more to anybody." Ben nodded, and without further delay strode off.

"I have heard something of how the wreck struck here and how