The Last Cruise of the Spitfire Part 18

Phew! but wasn't it an awful storm?"

"Yes, indeed," said I.

The man wanted to know how we had come to see him, and all particulars, and we told him.

He was a tall and fine-looking gentleman, about forty years of age. He gave his name as Oscar Ranson, and said he was a lawyer in New York.

"I have been spending a few weeks at Port Jefferson on Long Island, and yesterday set out for a two days' cruise up the sh.o.r.e," he explained.

"But I've had enough of it," he added with a shudder.

We made Mr. Ranson as comfortable as possible, and, while he was sipping a cup of hot coffee, he asked me about myself, saying that I didn't look much like a sailor.

And then I told him my story. Of course he was surprised.

"I wouldn't have believed it possible!" he exclaimed. "But you have done me a good turn, and now I'll do as much for you."

"Do you know Mr. Ira Mason, a lawyer?" I asked.

"Quite well."

"He is a friend of mine. He has an office in the same building with my uncle."

"Yes? What is your uncle's name?"

"Mr. Felix Stillwell."

At the mention of my uncle's name, Mr. Oscar Ranson jumped to his feet.

CHAPTER XIII.

A NEW FRIEND.

"Felix Stillwell your uncle!" exclaimed Mr. Oscar Ranson, as he stepped up to me.

I was amazed at his reception of the news.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"I know him quite well," went on Mr. Ranson slowly.

"You do?"

"Yes; in fact I have had some dealings with him, but--but----"

And here the gentleman hesitated.

"But what, sir?"

"Well, I don't know as I ought to tell," was the reply. "You just saved my life, and I don't want to hurt your feelings."

These words puzzled me not a little, and I said so.

"Well, the fact is, your uncle and I could never agree on some business matters. I did not think his actions were right, and I told him so, and we had quite a quarrel. But of course this has nothing to do with you."

"It will not have," I returned. "My uncle has not treated me fairly, and we parted on bad terms, so I do not care what opinion you have of him."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, sir. I used to live with my uncle."

"Are your parents living?"

"No, sir; they were killed in a railroad accident in England, and my uncle became my guardian."

At this Mr. Ranson was quite interested. He asked me several questions; and I ended up by telling him my whole story, even to the missing money.

"It's too bad!" he exclaimed, when I had finished. "I can well understand how a man of Mr. Stillwell's manner would act under such circ.u.mstances. He is a very unreasonable man."

"I suppose I made a mistake in running away," I said.

"It would have been better to have faced the music. But you had no one to advise you, and did not know but that you would be sent to jail without a fair trial, I suppose."

"What would you advise me to do?"

"Go back and stand trial. You have done me a good turn, and I will stand by you."

Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Crocker, who said Captain Hannock wanted to know if the rescued man could come to the cabin. Mr. Ranson rose at once.

"You'll find the captain a very mean man," I whispered, as he prepared to leave. "When we get a chance I wish to tell you something very important about him."

"All right: I'll remember."

Mr. Ranson left the forecastle. For a moment I was alone; then Lowell came in.

"Well, what are you doing now?" he asked savagely.

"Nothing," I replied, as calmly as I could.

"Think you're going to have a picnic of it, I suppose?" he sneered.

"I'll take things as they come," was my quiet reply.

"Well, just get on deck and help clear things up," he said. "The storm is over."

I obeyed his orders. I found the sky was now almost clear of clouds, and the moon was just sinking in the horizon. Dibble and the rest were hard at work mending the broken boom, and I turned in with a will.