The Rover Boys in Southern Waters/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV
HAROLD BIRD'S STRANGE TALE
Early in the morning the Rovers and their friends were ready to take their departure. Dick came down in the garden at sunrise, and was soon joined by Dora, and they took a short walk together.
"Oh, Dick, you must keep out of danger," said Dora. "Promise me you will be careful!"
"I will be careful, Dora," he answered, as he looked down into the depths of her clear eyes. "I will be careful—for your sake," he added, in almost a whisper.
"If something sh-should happen to you!" she faltered.
"I'll take care of myself, don't fear, Dora," he made reply, and then, as they were all alone he drew her up to him. "Dora, may I?" he asked, softly and tenderly.
She did not answer, but looked up at him, innocently and confidingly. He bent over and kissed her, and gave her hand a little squeeze.
"We understand each other, don't we, Dora?" he whispered.
"Of course we do," she whispered in return.
"And some day you'll be Mrs. Dick Rover?"
"Oh, Dick!"
"But you will be, won't you?"
"I—I—supposeOh!" And then Dora broke from Dick's hold, as Fred Garrison and Hans Mueller appeared, around a bend of the pathway.
"Breakfast is waiting!" sang out Fred. "Hurry up, if we are to start that search."
"All right," answered Dick. "We'll be in right away."
"See, I vos bick me a peautiful roses," put in Hans Mueller, coming closer. "Dick, of you ton't peen—vot you call him?—jealousness, yah, I gif him to Dora," and he passed over the flower.
"Oh, thank you, Hans," replied Dora, and she placed the flower in her hair. Then she gave Dick a look that meant a good deal, and they understood each other perfectly, and both went in to breakfast feeling very happy.
In the meantime Sam and Tom had been out on a side veranda with Grace and Nellie. Tom was as full of fun as ever and kept the two girls in a roar of laughter. Yet both girls grew serious when the time for parting came.
"You look out for yourself," said Grace. "Remember, those men are bad characters to meet."
"Yes, I shouldn't want you to get hurt for the world," added Nellie, and when she shook hands with Tom there was something like a tear in her eye.
Then came good-byes all around, and the carriage that was to take Dick and the others to the town drove around to the door. The party climbed in and in a moment more were off, the girls and ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the boys swinging their caps and hats.
"Yo' boys dun take good care ob yo'selves," said Aleck, who stood by, with a look of concern on his ebony face. "If yo' come back killed dis coon will neber fo'give himself!"
"Come back as soon as you can!" called out Dora.
"Don't worry—we may be back in a day or two," answered Dick. But it was destined to be many a long day ere the two parties should meet again.
Down at the riverside they found the launch in charge of a negro and all ready for the start. The provisions were stored in two lockers on board, and another locker held their firearms and some raincoats.
"Hurrah! Here is news," cried Dick, after perusing a telegram that had been handed to him. "You'll remember I telegraphed to Benton, the town below here. Well, here is word that the houseboat was seen passing Benton yesterday at about five o'clock, and headed towards the west shore. That ought to give us something to work on."
"It will," answered Harold Bird. "Come, the sooner we get started the better."
All stepped aboard of the Venus, as the launch was named, and soon the gasoline motor was buzzing away at a good rate of speed. Then the power was turned on the screw, Harold Bird took his station at the wheel, and away they sped from the landing and out onto the broad Mississippi.
"Hurrah for a life on der oceans vafe und a ship on der rollings deeps!" sang out Hans, who sat near the bow.
"Gosh, Hans is getting poetic!" said Tom, "That's right, Hansy, my boy, keep it up and you'll soon put Songbird out of business."
"What I want to know is," came from Fred, "if we strike a sunken snag is this launch safe?"
"As safe as any craft of her size," answered Harold Bird. "But I shan't strike a snag if I can help it. I am not running at full speed, and if you'll notice I am keeping where the water is fairly clear."
"Which isn't saying a great deal," came from Sam. "I never saw a river as muddy as the Mississippi."
"I know one other stream that is worse, and that's the Missouri," said Harold Bird. "And as that flows into the Mississippi it makes the latter almost as bad."
As soon as they were well on their way Dick brought out the firearms which had been brought along, and examined them with care.
"You certainly have some fine weapons," said he, referring to the pistols brought by Harold Bird. "Do you do much shooting—I mean with a gun?"
"I never go shooting at all," was the young Southerner's reply, and once again the boys saw that strange look of sadness come over his face.
"Funny, you wouldn't care to go out," said Songbird, carelessly. "Must be quite some game around here."
"There is plenty of game, but" Harold Bird heaved a deep sigh. "I presume I may as well tell you my story, for you are bound to hear it sooner or later," he went on. "About four years ago my father went out hunting in the forest to the north of our plantation. He was out with two friends, but about the middle of the day the party separated and my father found himself alone. Then he saw something that to him looked like a wildcat on a big rock. He fired quickly, and when he drew closer he saw to his horror that he had shot and killed a man—an old hunter named Blazen.
"The shock of the discovery made my father faint, and when the others came up they found him working over the dead body of Blazen in a vain endeavor to bring the hunter back to life. A doctor was called, but nothing could be done for Blazen, for the shot had killed him instantly, taking him squarely in the heart. Of course it was an accident, but my father couldn't get over it. He raved and wept by turns, and at last the doctors had to place him in confinement for fear that he would try to do himself some injury. My mother was prostrated by the news, and you can imagine how I felt myself."
"It was certainly terrible," said Dick, and the others nodded in silence.
"Blazen was an old bachelor, with no relatives, so there were few to mourn over his death. We saw to it that he was given a decent burial and advertised for his heirs, but nobody appeared. In the meantime my father grew melancholy and the doctors thought he might become insane. They advised a trip to new scenes, and my mother and I took him to Europe and then to Kingston, Jamaica, where an old friend of the family had a plantation. One day my father disappeared."
"Disappeared?" echoed Sam and Tom.
"Yes, disappeared utterly and forever. We hunted high and low for him and offered a big reward for any information. It was useless. We have never seen him or heard a word of him since."
"And what do you think became of him?" questioned Songbird Powell.
"I cannot imagine, excepting that he may have thrown himself into the bay and drowned himself. He had a habit of going down to the water and gazing out to sea by the hour."
'Too bad!" mumured Dick. "Mr. Bird, I sympathize deeply with you."
"And so do I," came from the other boys.
"The disappearance of my father made my mother ill and it was all I could do to get her back home. There we procured the best of medical skill, but it did little good. She had always had heart trouble and this grew rapidly worse until she died, leaving me utterly alone in the world"
Harold Bird stopped speaking and wiped the tears from his eyes. All of his listeners were deeply affected. It was several seconds before anybody spoke.
"I don't wonder you don't care to go hunting," said Sam. "I'd feel the same way."
"I have never visited the forest since the time the tragedy took place," answered Harold Bird. "At first I thought to sell off the stretch of land to a lumber company, but now I have changed my mind, and I intend to give it to the heirs of Blazen, if any appear."
"Is it a valuable tract?" asked Fred.
"The lumber company offered me twenty thousand dollars for it."
"If your father was drowned it is queer that you never heard anything of his body," said Fred.
"Bodies of drowned people are not always recovered," answered the young Southerner. "But he must have been drowned, for if he had been alive we surely would have heard something of him. The reward we offered set hundreds of people to hunting for him."
"It is certainly a mystery," said Dick. "I suppose you'd give a good deal to have it cleared up."
"I'd give half of what I am worth," answered Harold Bird, earnestly.