Chapter 13 of 23 · 2409 words · ~12 min read

CHAPTER XIII

ON THE YUKON

Case had hardly disappeared when Ike came rushing down into the cabin in a panic. "My pants, my pants," he cried.

"Is this the proper way to invade a sick man's room?" demanded Alex with a grin.

"But my pants," Ike said excitedly; "the wet ones."

"Want to put them on and imagine you're drowning again?" grinned the invalid.

"All my money is in the seat of them pants, you understand," Ike explained. "Maybe it's no good now."

"I think your pants are in that wet heap over in the corner," Alex said, roused to interest.

Ike pounced upon the wet heap and quickly finding the valuable garment ripped the seat open with his knife. "It's all right," he cried in joy. "It is all wet, you understand, I'll spread it out on the floor and it soon be dry."

Alex watched him curiously as Ike separated the wet bills and spread them out to dry. He was amazed at the amount the little Jew had been carrying about his person. Idly, he figured up the amount as Ike spread out each bill. When Ike spread out the last one with a sigh of satisfaction, Alex lay back and did some mental figuring. He repeated the operation again. The result was the same. If they had all taken up the offer the little Jew had made and all have gone home, Ike would have been left alone in this strange, fearsome land with less than ten dollars in his pocket. Alex felt a fresh respect for the pluck and determination of this lad no bigger than himself. He would have liked to express this sentiment but he detested open displays of emotion, so he merely growled.

"I'm sorry I hit you so hard on the jaw."

"That's all right," said Ike, cheerfully, as he felt tenderly of the lump. Some day when we both feel better we fight it out with fists, you understand?"

Alex's stout little heart warmed to him. Who had said a Jew would not fight, he wondered.

"I say, Ike," he said softly. "I didn't want to hit you. I just had to. I grabbed you just the right way but you twisted and caught me tight. We would have both been drowned if I hadn't lammed you so hard as to knock you loose." Feeling that he had spoken too softly, he said severely: "I never expected to see a Chicago kid of your age that couldn't swim."

"You see," Ike explained. "I went to a swimming teacher once to learn to swim good, you understand. He try me for awhile then he tell me I can't never learn, my race is too much against me."

"How's that?" Alex asked, sympathetically.

"He said I would always work my hands palms up instead of palms down."

Alex, grinning, got out of his bunk and began slipping on his clothes as he saw Case descending the cabin steps. "Ike," he said, "you're a cheerful liar but all the same I believe we are going to be great pals."

It was when he started for the door that Alex realized his weakness. His legs wabbled under him and his head began to swim. Case caught him tenderly as he reeled and supported him up to where a blanket spread in the sun awaited him. "Say, Case," he said, as the other tried to make him comfortable, "what makes me so blamed weak?"

"You were farther gone than any of the rest," Case replied. "Ike got off the lightest of you three, Captain Joe had most of his wounds open with the exertion and he is in pretty bad shape. We thought you were dead when we palled you in over the side. We had to roll you over a barrel and do a lot of other things to get the water out of you."

"Why, I didn't swallow much water," Alex protested.

"You did not notice it because you were so cold and numb. When you were floating on your back you were taking in water all the time."

"But I felt warm, comfortable and sleepy."

"Which meant you were mighty near the end," Case said firmly. "If it had not been for Captain Joe's catching you before you got too deep down, I don't believe you would ever have come up again. We threw the rope to you and when you brushed it off we knew what the trouble was. We kicked off our shoes and were going over after you when we saw Captain Joe come to your rescue." He lowered his voice anxiously. "Remember you're not going to tell about that vision of yours?"

Alex smiled blissfully. "No, it's just our own little secret, Case. Maybe bye and bye I'll make up some more nice verses and we will sing them over until you catch the words and then when we are alone we can have some nice talks about her."

Case departed groaning in spirit, realizing that if he had disposed of two possible tormentors, there still remained a third, the worst of all.

Clay climbed out of the engine hold to greet the invalid. "Well, how's the boy?"

"Fine and dandy," Alex smiled back. "Feel as though I could set up and take some nourishment now."

"I'll have Ike start up the fire and make you a bowl of oyster soup. It isn't good for one to eat much after swallowing so much salt water. Well, you missed the last glimpse of Nome."

Alex grinned, "I don't mind that so much. I guess I saw enough of Nome that first day to last me."

"We'll soon be getting in sight of St. Michael's Island," Clay continued. "I'm going to slow down going past the island. I want to punish the Yukon Kid for bragging over that clumsy old river tub he calls a steamboat. After we get well past we'll speed up and run up the river 'till well along in the afternoon. Then we can anchor in some cozy nook and get a good night's rest. I don't believe that steamer will pass us before morning. Look. Alex, you can see the island now. That blot of green straight ahead of the bow. Now I'm going to let her out to the last notch. Watch her go."

Clay shoved the timer over to the last notch and the _Rambler_, raising a still higher wave at her bow, ploughed like a shark through the small billows.

"Going some, isn't she son?' exulted Clay, wiping his hands on a bit of waste.

Alex raised on one elbow and gazed at the foam flying past with a sigh of satisfaction. "She goes like a blow fly to the fish market. She must be making twenty-two miles an hour."

"One cannot tell without running a boat around a staked course what time it will make, but I figure the _Rambler_ is making twenty-four miles an hour right now. I've got her tinkered up like a watch and she's running like a railroad train.

St. Michael's rose quickly on the horizon and when within about half a mile of it, Clay slowed the engine down and the _Rambler_ ambled past at a sedate rate of speed. As they passed the island, the boys saw the river steamboat lying at her pier, a thin trickle of white smoke trickling out of her funnels.

"Only just beginning to get up steam, it will take them a full two hours to get up a full head, and the Yukon Kid expected to pass us at the mouth of the Yukon," said Clay scornfully.

As soon as they were well clear of the island, Clay shoved over the timer again and the _Rambler_ leaped ahead like a sword fish.

The distance between the island and the famous river was not great and they soon headed up its broad bosom. Case had a chart of the lower Yukon and a box compass by which to steer, and they made steady progress up the great river. Long before twilight they ran the _Rambler_ slowly into a tiny cove where they found the water deep enough to run her bow clear up on shore. An anchor was thrown on shore and another heaved as far as they could heave it and its cable tautened up so as to prevent the _Rambler_ slewing in on the beach.

"I'm going to be boss for the rest of the day," Clay declared, pleasantly, when the work was done. "First of all, I want that young monkey," indicating Alex, "to go right to bed. I'll make him a bowl of hot broth and he'll be asleep in ten minutes after he drinks it."

"Me for the broth and the blankets," agreed Alex willingly, for he was coming to a realization of his weak state.

"Teddy Bear has got into better humor this afternoon, I believe, Case, if you would take him ashore and lead him around a bit he would eat a big supper and be his own good-humored self tomorrow."

"I'll go," said Case, eagerly, for he was eager to explore the forest that stretched away back of the cove.

"Good," approved Clay, "while you are gone Ike and I will cook up a big supper. We have been on rather short rations today."

"Ike," he said, as soon as the meal was well started, "come on up on deck with me, I want to talk with you a little."

"Now, Ike," he said as soon as they were seated close together on the cabin top. "I don't want to pry into your personal secrets, but I do want to know something about those two men and why they are following us so closely. They nearly finished us off today. Next time they may be more successful. Now we want to know all we can about these men so as to know how to deal with them when we meet them again, as I feel sure we will. Wait a minute and I'll read you something." He took out a slip of the papers they had bought the morning they left Chicago and read the account of the holdup and robbery. "Pretty desperate men I should call them," he commented. "Highway men, burglars, and almost murderers, in our case, at least. I think you had ought to tell us all about them."

Ike's face filled with trouble and anxiety and it was a full minute before he replied. "You are a man, may own a secret and be so bound by promise laid on him by some one else, that he is not free to tell it, you understand, but all I am free to tell you, I'll tell you, Clay, tell it to you honestly."

"I'll believe you, Ike," said Clay quietly.

"Well, you hear me speak often of my uncle. My uncle was a great man in the old country, a student and a scientist. He was rich, too, very rich, but instead of spending his time at court, he was all the time going amongst the poor, teaching, helping, and giving money where it was needed most. It's a crime in Russia for a Jew to do like that, so the Little Father pretty soon takes away all his moneys and sends him to the mines in Siberia to work all his life, but, after eight years, they let him go, and we sent him the money to come to us in good America. But, after he come, he was not content. He wanted so bad to work, but his fingers were twisted and stiff from handling pick and shovel in the cold, so he could not get work in the sweat shops. That made him sad. Then one day comes the news of gold in Alaska and next morning uncle was gone, just leaving a little note saying that he was not going to be a burden on us any longer." There was a dry sob in the lad's throat at the recollection of the note, but he bravely conquered his emotion and went on. "About eight months later, we got a letter saying he had got to the Yukon and would send us some money in the spring, soon as the mining commenced. About every six months after that there comes a kind, cheery letter, but no money. Uncle's not what you call a business man, he all the time dreams big dreams about helping the people, you understand. I believe he finds but little gold and much suffering on the Yukon."

"But where do those two men come in?" asked Clay.

"They bring me a letter from him last fall. The moment they gave it to me I see it had been opened, but I kept quiet, and reads it while they keeps telling me they were my uncle's partners and what a good friend they were of his. Then they ask me what was in the letter and I tells them I can't say until I see my uncle and that I don't understand it plain because there was a big piece torn off the bottom. All that winter they keep at me about that letter and all the time I tell them the same thing.

"I did some worrying that winter and I gets to thinking about the long trips you boys take every summer and makes no money, and I thinks that there's a good chance for them boys to make a little money and a good chance for me to go too. So I kept at you about going till I gits you interested and you decided to go. I'm sorry now. Clay, honestly, Clay, I'm sorry."

"I'm not," said Clay cheerily. "Jump down into the kitchen and stir up that stew and set the coffee back. I can smell it boiling."

Ike was back in a moment and resumed his tale.

"That's all that I know about them fellers, excepting what you fellows know. I wish I could tell you what was in the letter, but uncle told me to tell nobody till I see him, besides I don't understand all of it myself, there's so much of it torn off."

"It's all right, Ike," Clay said absently. "I believe you and the boys will too. Stick by us and we'll stick by you. I wonder what has become of Case."

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