thought. I dashed into the ferry-house, paid the ferry fare, and in a moment was on board, just as the boat left the slip.
It had been a long and hard run, but at last I was safe from being followed. Once in Brooklyn there would be a hundred places for me to go in case of necessity.
Wiping the perspiration from my face, I made my way to the forward deck. But few people were on board, and quite undisturbed, I leaned against the railing to review the situation.
What should I do next, was the question that arose to my mind, and I found no little difficulty in answering it. I was half inclined to think that I had acted very foolishly in running away. Now every one would surely believe me guilty, and if I was caught it would go hard indeed with me.
Had I better go back? For one brief instant I thought such a course would be best; then came the vision of the cell, and I shuddered, and resolved, now I had undertaken to escape, to continue as I had begun. Whether I was wise or not I will leave my readers to determine after my story is concluded.
It was not long before the boat bumped into the slip on the opposite shore. The shock brought me to a recollection of the present, and in company with the other passengers I went ashore. I had something of a notion that a policeman would be in waiting for me, but none appeared, and I passed out to the street unaccosted.
I had been to Brooklyn several times on errands for the firm, so I knew the streets quite well. But fearful of being seen, I passed close to the wharves, and finally came to a lumber yard, and here I sat down.
It was a hot day, and it was not long before I was forced to seek the shade. Close at hand was a shed, and this I took the liberty of entering.
It was a rough place, used for the seasoning of the better class of wood. I found a seat on some ends of planking in a cool corner, quite out of the line of observation of those who were passing.
Here I sat for full an hour. Nothing seemed to be going on in the lumber yard, and no one came to disturb me.
But at last came voices, and then two rough looking men approached. I was about to make my presence known, but their appearance was such that I remained silent; and they took seats close to the spot where I was.
"And the captain is sure that she is fully insured?" asked the taller of the two.
"Trust Captain Hannock to cover himself well!" laughed the other. "You can bet he has her screwed up to the top notch."
"And what is this cargo insured for?"
"McNeil didn't say. Not much less than a hundred thousand, I guess. Of course you'll go, Crocker?"
"Ya-as," replied the man addressed as Crocker, somewhat slowly. "I can't pick up a thousand dollars any easier than that."
"I thought I had struck you right. Are you ready to sail?"
"Anytime you say, Lowell. I owe two weeks' board now, and Mammy Brown hinted last night I'd better pay up or seek other quarters."
And Crocker gave a short, hard laugh.
"Then meet me at the Grapevine in an hour," said the man called Lowell. "I've got to make a few other arrangements before we start."
"Right you are."
"And remember, not a word – "
"Luff there! As if I didn't understand the soundings."
"All right. Come and have one."
The two men arose at once and headed for a saloon that stood upon the near corner.
I arose also and watched them out of sight. The conversation that they had held had not been a very lucid one, yet I was certain they were up to no good. One of them had spoken of making a thousand dollars in an easy manner, and I was positive that meant the money was to be gained dishonestly.
What was I to do? I was no detective, to follow the men, and I was just at present on far from good terms with the police. It seemed a pity to let the matter rest where it stood, but for the present I did not feel inclined to investigate it. I would keep my eyes open, and if anything more turned up, or was noted in the papers, I would tell all I had heard.
I wandered along the docks, piled high with merchandise of all descriptions. Beyond, a number of stately vessels rested at anchor, large and small, among which the steam tugs were industriously puffing and blowing, on the lookout for a job.
The sight was a novel one to me, and soon I walked out upon the end of a dock to get a better view.
"Hi, there! No loafing on this pier!" called a burly watchman; and I lost no time in moving on.
Presently I came to a wharf that seemed to be more public, and walked out to one side of it. Here it was shady, and close at hand floated a large row-boat.
The craft was deserted. Wishing to observe the scene without being noticed, I leaped into her. There was a cushion on the stern seat, and on this I sat down.
The breeze and the gentle motion of the boat were delightful, and for a moment I thought how pleasant a life on the ocean must be. Alas! little did I realize what was in store for me on the boundless deep.
As I sat on the soft cushion I could not help but speculate on all that had transpired within the last few hours. Early in the morning my mind had been free from care that was anyway deep; now I was a fugitive, not knowing which way to turn or what to do.
But I was not disheartened. I was healthy and strong and I felt confident that I could work my way in the world. But I was worried about clearing my fair name of the suspicion Uncle Felix had cast upon it. I must do that at any and all costs.
Presently a footstep sounded above me on the dock, and a well-dressed young man appeared.
"Hullo, there!" he cried, on catching sight of me.
"Hullo!" I replied, shortly. I was not in a talkative humor, and wished him to know it.
"What are you doing down there?" he went on, rather sharply.
"Nothing much."
"Do you know that that is my boat?"
"No, I didn't know it," I returned, and then jumped to my feet. "Excuse me, but I haven't hurt anything."
"But what are you doing there?"
"Only resting. I've walked a good bit to-day and I am tired. I'll go if you want to use the boat."
"Oh, no, that's all right. I don't want the boat for a couple of hours yet. You may stay where you are."
"Thank you."
He was about to turn away, but a sudden thought seemed to come into his mind.
"You say you have walked a good bit to-day?" he asked curiously.
"That's it."
"You are not out of work and on the tramp, are you?"
"Something like that," I replied. "I'm out of work and as I can't pay to journey around, I'll have to walk."
"I see. Well, I hope you strike something before long. It's not pleasant to be out of work and money."
The
