CHAPTER XXVI.

ANOTHER UNEXPECTED MEETING.

Wade Brooks had his supper, by the grace of Pollish, in the kitchen, so that he was not obliged to appropriate a part of the captain’s meal, as he had of his breakfast and dinner. At an early hour in the evening, he turned into a spare bunk in the forecastle; for it was not necessary for him to seek his hiding-place. He slept well, and he did not wake as early as the runaways on board of the “Housatonic.” Wade could sleep twelve hours a night when he had nothing better to do; and he did it on this occasion.

Capt. Bendig had not slept as well. He had been on deck half the night, looking out for an opportunity to communicate with the “Housatonic.” He had not been in his berth more than an hour at a time; and this was calculated to make him cross on the following day, for no one feels good after he has been up half the night. He was on deck at daylight, when a little breeze came up from the eastward, which was not fair for the yacht or the ship. But the “Moonlight” was under way as soon as the breeze swelled her sails. She barely moved, and it would take her some time to beat up to the “Housatonic.”

The revenue-cutter was about two miles farther to the westward than she had been the night before. She seemed to be on a mission of some kind, and to be determined to remain near this particular locality. If there had been a good wind, the yacht would have followed the “Housatonic” to some part of the sea where the cutter could not notice her movements. But the ship could do nothing in that light head wind, though she had braced her yards so as to lay a course to the south-east. She had no perceptible motion as she was seen from the deck of the yacht.

When the “Moonlight” had been under way half an hour, a boat put off from the “Housatonic,” and pulled rapidly towards the yacht. In a short time it came alongside, and Capt. Crogick sprang upon her deck. As he did so, he cast an anxious glance astern in the direction of the cutter, but he appeared to think she was too far off to see what he was about; for doubtless he did not care to have her officers know that he had boarded the “Moonlight.”

“Things don’t work well,” said he, when he had satisfied himself in regard to the revenue-steamer.

“That’s a fact. What do you suppose that cutter is doing out here?” asked Capt. Bendig.

“I don’t know. She boarded me last night; but I am sure she don’t know what we are about. Did she hail you?”

“No. She has not been much nearer to the yacht than she is now. It is very likely she is on the lookout for some smuggler or filibuster. Those fellows don’t often explain their business.”

“That’s not all, either,” continued Capt. Crogick. “About six bells last night, the second mate dug out a couple of stowaways; and who do you think they are?”

“I don’t think I could guess,” replied Capt. Bendig.

“One of them was the son of the president of the bank of which your passenger is the cashier,” added Capt. Crogick.

“Whew!” whistled the captain of the “Moonlight.” “That’s bad.”

“Of course it is; and we must not let these stowaways see the cashier or any of the family.”

“That’s so. Last night was a good one for stowaways, for I had one; but he is nothing but a wharf-rat, I think, that came on board to sleep.”

“I shall send these two boys back to New York in your yacht; and I have come on board of you to warn you. When I send them to the ‘Moonlight,’ you must keep your passengers in the cabin, and then lock these stowaways up in a state-room, or some other place, where it is not possible for them to know what is going on.”

“All right,” replied Capt. Bendig. “We can manage it very well.”

“There’s no trouble at all about it, if we only understand each other; but it would have been bad if you had sent Wallgood and his wife on board of the ship when these two young cubs were on deck; and it would have been just as bad if I had sent the boys to you. We have the matter well in hand now, and there is nothing more to fear,” continued the master of the “Housatonic.” “As soon as I return to the ship, I shall send these boys to you: so see that every thing is fixed for them. As soon as you have locked them into a room, send the cashier, his wife and mine, back in the same boat.”

“All right. It shall be done; and I will see that nothing goes wrong.”

Capt. Crogick returned to his boat, and the men pulled back to the ship.

When he reached the “Housatonic,” he found the stowaways had not yet turned out, and he sent the steward to call them. They were not sorry to find a chance to return to New York, and they soon completed their toilets. They were handed into the boat, and were soon on board of the “Moonlight.” The cabin of the yacht was closed and locked when they came on deck.

Capt. Bendig’s state-room was chosen for their prison, and they were conducted to it as soon as they came on board. They were taken down by the fore-hatch, for the door leading from the room into the cabin had been fastened before. The captain, without any explanations, shoved them into the room, and locked the door upon them; and there was no opening by which they could see out of the den, for it was only dimly lighted by blocks of glass in the deck.

“What does all this mean?” demanded Lon, as the door was locked upon them.

“We are locked in,” replied Matt.

“I know it; but what is it for?”

“Perhaps the captain thinks we may get back to the ship.”

“I understand it,” added Lon, with a sudden flash of intelligence. “The captain of the ‘Housatonic’ believes we stole the money; and he is going to send us back to Midhampton by this vessel.”

“Then the game is all up, and all our fun is spoiled again,” replied Matt, disgusted with the situation.

“Here is a good bed; and we may as well turn in, and make the best of it. By and by, if they don’t let us out, we will smash that door down, and raise Cain generally,” added Lon, as he stretched himself on the bed in the berth.

When he had locked his prisoners into the room, Capt. Bendig hurried his passengers out of the cabin into the boat that was waiting for them. All their baggage was put into the boat with them, and in a few moments more they were on their way to the “Housatonic;” confident that they were out of danger now, for the cutter was still two miles distant.

As soon as they were gone, and he had fulfilled his contract with the master of the “Housatonic,” he gave orders for the yacht to be put about, and headed to the westward. He hardly gave a second thought to the prisoners in his state-room. He had no instruction in regard to them, except to land them in New York. The breeze freshened a little, and the “Moonlight” began to move through the water at a livelier pace.

By this time Wade Brooks had slept all he could; and he left his bunk in the forecastle. When he learned from Pollish that the captain was at his breakfast in the cabin, he ventured to go on deck. In the distance he saw the “Housatonic,” standing to the south-west; and Pollish told him the passengers had gone on board of her.

“The captain is at his breakfast; but as soon as he is done he will want to see you, my lad,” said the steward. “You had better get something to eat while you have a chance to do so; for you may not get another to-day.”

Wade was not a fellow to neglect an opportunity of this kind: he went down to the galley, where Pollish gave him all he could eat. While he was at his breakfast, he heard a pounding on the door of the captain’s state-room. Lon and Matt had stood the monotony of the state-room as long as they could, and the former had put his plan into execution. He was going to break down the door if no one let them out.

“Pollish!” shouted the captain.

“Here, sir,” replied the steward, hastening to the cabin by the door through the pantry, which was between the cabin and the kitchen.

“What is that noise?” asked Capt. Bendig, when the steward appeared.

“The two boys in your state-room, sir,” replied Pollish. “They want to get out, I suppose.”

“Let them out, and then give them some breakfast,” added the captain.

He was very considerate of the ship’s stowaways,--more so than of his own; but one of the former was the son of a rich man, and that made all the difference in the world. As the skipper of the “Moonlight” was on the make, it is not unlikely that he thought he might turn the presence of the boys on board his vessel to account. He judged that the father of one of them would be glad to give something handsome to get him back to his home. It might even pay to take them up the river in the yacht to their residence; or he could go on shore at Staten Island, and telegraph to the boy’s father, and then present his bill. But, if the captain made any such calculations as these, they were upset by his own folly and breach of faith.

Pollish obeyed his order, and released Lon and Matt by the door at which they had been admitted to their temporary prison.

“Why were we locked up in that room?” demanded Lon, as he confronted the steward at the open door.

“I don’t know. You must ask the captain: he did it himself, and he don’t tell his crew what he does things for,” replied Pollish.

“We want some breakfast,” growled Lon.

“You shall have some at once. Come into the kitchen,” said Pollish.

Lon and Matt followed him. Wade was seated at a table, picking the meat from the bone of a mutton-chop. Lon looked at him as though he had been a ghost; and Wade looked at the two runaways with a similar expression of surprise.

“By hokey! how came you here, Matt?” demanded Wade, almost overwhelmed by the sight of him.

“How came you here?” repeated Matt.

“I believe you are an evil spirit, Wade Brooks,” added Lon: “you follow us wherever we go.”

Pollish deemed it best to inform the captain that the boys knew each other.