The Tale of Timber Town - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Crookenden says he can't give, as the crew was a special one, and the man in charge of the boat is away. But from the evidence that Sartoris has brought, it looks as if Tresco could throw light on the matter."
"It's for the police to take the thing up," said Sartoris. "I'm not a detective meself; I'm just a plain sailor--I don't pretend to be good at following up clues. But if the police want this here clue, they can have it. It's the best one of its kind I ever come across: look at it from whatever side you please. It's almost as perfect a clue as you could have, if you had one made to order. A policeman that couldn't follow up that clue----'Tresco' on the knife, and, alongside of it, the bit of mail-bag--why, he ought to be turned loose in an unsympathising world, and break stones for a living. It's a beautiful clue. It's a clue a man can take a pride in; found all ready on the beach; just a-waitin' to be picked up, and along comes a chuckle-headed old salt and grabs it. Now, that clue ought to be worth a matter of a hundred pound to the Government. What reward is offered, Pilot?"
"There's none, as I'm aware of," answered Summerhayes. "But if the post-master is a charitable sort of chap, he might be inclined to recommend, say, fifty; you bein' a castaway sailor in very 'umble circ.u.mstances. I'll see what I can do. I'll see the Mayor."
"Oh, you will!" exclaimed Sartoris. "You'd better advertise: 'Poor, distressed sailor. All contributions thankfully received.' No, sir, don't think you can pauperise _me_. A man who can find a clue like that"--he brought the palm of his right hand down with a smack upon the table, where Tresco's knife lay--"a man who can find that, sir, can make his way in any community!"
Just at that moment there were heavy footsteps upon the verandah, and a knocking at the front door.
Rose, who was sitting near the window, made a step or two towards the pa.s.sage, but the old Pilot, who from where he stood could see through the gla.s.s of the front door, forestalled her, and she seated herself opposite the skipper and his clues.
"So you think of visiting the police sergeant?" she asked, by way of keeping up the conversation.
But the skipper's whole attention was fixed on the voices in the next room, into which the Pilot had conducted his visitor.
"H'm," said Sartoris, "I had an idea I knew the voice, but I must have been mistaken. Who is the party, Miss Rose?"
"I haven't the slightest clue," replied the girl, smiling. "Father has such a number of strange friends in the port that I've long given up trying to keep count of them. They come at all hours, about all sorts of things."
The words were hardly out of her mouth, when the Pilot, wearing a most serious expression of face, entered the room.
"Well, well," he said, "well, well. Who'd ha' thought it? Dear, dear. Of all the extraordinary things! Now, Cap'n Sartoris, if you'd 'a' asked _me_, I'd 'a' said the thing was impossible, impossible. Such things goes in streaks, and his, to all intents and purposes, was a bad 'n; and then it turns out like this. It's most remarkable, most extraordinary.
It's beyond me. I don't fathom it."
"What the deuce an' all are you talkin' about, Summerhayes?" Sartoris spoke most deprecatingly. "A man would think you'd buried a s.h.i.+pmate, or even lost your s.h.i.+p."
"Eh? What?" the Pilot thundered. "Lost my s.h.i.+p? No, no. I've bin wrecked in a fruiter off the coast of Sardinia, an' I've bin cast away on the island of Curacoa, but it was always in another man's vessel. No, sir, _I_ never failed to bring the owners' property safe into port. Any fool can run his s.h.i.+p on sh.o.r.e, and litter her cargo along half-a-mile of sea coast."
"We've heard that argyment before," said Sartoris. "We quite understand--you couldn't do such a thing if you tried. You're a most exceptional person, and I'm proud to know you; but what's this dreadful thing that's redooced you to such a state of bad temper, that your best friends 'd hardly know you? I ask you that, Summerhayes. Is it anything to do with these clues that's on the table?"
"Clues be----!" It is sad to relate that the Pilot of Timber Town was about to use a strong expression, which only the presence of his daughter prevented. "Come out of that room there," he roared. "Come, an'
show yourself."
There was a heavy tread in the pa.s.sage, and presently there entered the room a very shabby figure of a man. A ruddy beard obscured his face; his hair badly needed cutting; his boots were dirty and much worn; his hands bore marks of hard work, but his eyes were bright, and the colour of his cheek was healthy, and for all the noise he made as he walked there was strength in his movements and elasticity in his steps.
Without a word of introduction, he held out his hand to Miss Summerhayes, who took it frankly.
Captain Sartoris had risen to his feet.
"How d'y do, sir," he said, as he shook hands. "I hope I see you well, sir. Have you come far, or do you live close handy?"
"I've come a matter of twenty miles or so to-day," said the tall stranger.
"Farming in the bush, I suppose," said Sartoris. "Very nice occupation, farming, I should think." He closely eyed the ragged man. "Or perhaps you fell down a precipice of jagged stones which tore you considerable.
Anyhow, I'm glad I see you well, sir, _very_ glad I see you well."
There was a rumbling noise like the echo of distant thunder reverberating through the hills. Rose and Sartoris almost simultaneously fixed their eyes upon the Pilot.
Summerhayes's huge person was heaving with suppressed merriment, his face was red, and his mouth was shut tight lest he should explode with laughter. But when he saw the two pairs of bewildered eyes staring at him, he burst into a laugh such as made the wooden walls of the house quiver.
Sartoris stood, regarding the Pilot as though he trembled for his friend's senses; and a look of alarm showed itself in Rose's face.
"You don't know him!" cried the Pilot, pulling himself together. But the t.i.tanic laughter again took hold of him, and shook his vast frame.
"You've travelled with him, you've sailed with him, you've known him, Sartoris--you've bin s.h.i.+pwrecked with him!" Here the paroxysm seized the Pilot anew; and when it had subsided it left him exhausted and feeble.
He sank limply upon the old-fas.h.i.+oned sofa, and said, almost in a whisper, "It's Jack Scarlett, and you didn't know him; Jack Scarlett, back from the diggings, with his swag full of gold--and you thought him a stranger."
It was now the turn of Rose and the skipper to laugh. Jack, who up to this point had kept a straight face, joined his merriment to theirs, and rus.h.i.+ng forward they each shook him by the hand again, but in a totally different manner from that of their former greeting.
Out of his "jumper" the fortunate digger pulled a long chamois-leather bag, tied at the neck with a boot-lace. Taking a soup-plate from the sideboard, he emptied the contents of the bag into it, and before the astonished eyes of the onlookers lay a heap of yellow gold.
They stared, and were speechless.
From about his waist Scarlett untied a long leather belt, which proved to be lined with gold. But the soup-plate would hold no more, and so the lucky digger poured the residue in a heap upon the polished table. Next, he went out to the verandah, and undoing his swag, he returned with a tin canister which had been wrapped in his blankets. This also was full of gold, and taking off its lid, he added its contents to the pile upon the table.
"And there's some left in camp," he said. "I couldn't carry it all to town."
"Well, well," said Sartoris, "while I've been boxed up in that stinking plague-s.h.i.+p, I might ha' been on G.o.d A'mighty's earth, picking up stuff like this. Well, well, what luck!"
"There must be a matter o' two thousand pound," said the Pilot. "Two thousand pound!"
"More," said Jack. "There should be about 800 ozs., valued at something like 3000; and this is the result of but our first was.h.i.+ng-up."
"Good lord, what luck!" exclaimed the Pilot. "As I always have said, it comes in streaks. Now, Jack, here, has had his streak o' bad luck, and now he's got into a new streak, and it's so good that it's like to turn him crazy before he comes to the end of it. If you want to know the real truth about things, ask an old sailor--he won't mislead you."
But all that Rose said was, "How nice it must be to meet with such success."
"By George, I was almost forgetting our bargain," exclaimed Scarlett. He took from his pocket a little linen bag, which he handed to Rose. "Those are the nuggets you wanted--glad to be able to keep my promise."
The girl untied the neck of the small bag, and three heavy pieces of gold tumbled on the table.
"I can't take them," she exclaimed. "They're worth too much. I can't make any adequate return."
"I hope you won't try. Pilot, she _must_ take them."
"Take 'em? Of course. Why, Rosebud, his luck would leave him to-morrer, if you was to stop him keeping his promise. You're bound to take 'em."
Rose weighed the bits of virgin gold in the palm of her little hand.
"Of course, I never really meant you to give me any of your gold," she said. "I only spoke in joke."
"Then it's a joke I should make pretty often, if I were you," said Sartoris. "You don't seem to know when you're well off."
"I take it under compulsion; hoping that you'll find so much more that you won't feel the loss of this."
"There's no fear of that," said Jack. "As for repayment, I hope you won't mention it again."
"I'll have to give it you in good wishes."
The basket of roses stood on the table. Jack looked at the beautifully blended colours, and stooped to smell the sweet perfume. "I'll take one of these," he said, "--the one you like the best."