Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 187 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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6 to perceive two gentlemen, who came arm in arm doyya the porch, nming the air which the band was playing. The first intimation Fred had of their presence was a rude surge against him that almost threw him from his feet. They had either not seen him, or had intentionall tried to overthrow him. Fred quickly recovered footing, his eyes flashing with anger. “Get out of the way now, Jersey,” warned the taller of the two young men, with a rather thickened utterance. “‘What are you doing here, when you ought to be on the beach, hunting clams?”’ Fred made no reply; but his breath came with labor, and his hands were involuntarily clenched. ‘*Come, Will,’ called out the other of the two men. ‘* Don’t be getting up a disturbance here.” ‘*Disturbance be shot! What business has this sand-hopper in a gentleman’s way? Who are you, bumpkiny And what keeps you there Jooking like a dead stick?”’ ¥ Fred turned away with an exclamation of dis- ain. “Tf you were sober I might take the trouble to show vou who Iam,” he retorted. ‘As it is, I don’t think I'l) waste words on you.” ‘Do you hear the insulting hound, George?" cried h dar angrily. ‘** Do you suppose I am going to stand a y? ‘*Come, come, Will. This is no place to raise a Cisurhence. See! people’s attention is already at- racted.”’ **T don’t care a fig,’ exclaimed Will. “I am not going to let, this sand snipe tell me thatI am drunk.”’ Fred had walked some steps away. Henow turned shauply anu faced the pait-<iper: youth. ‘‘f have no objection totell youwholam. <AndI can tell you who you are inthe same breath. You are the sneak and coward that left your lady friend sinking in the surf. Iam the one that saved her. Will tuat satisfy you?” The young man started back in some discomfiture at this announcement, He soon recovered hig as- surance, however, “*T know ro now,’ he exclaimed. ‘“‘It was you that insulted Miss Darlington in the street this morn- ing. Idid not want to raise trouble then. But it is not too late to chastise you now.”’ ‘*See here, my friend, this is no place to bandy a lady’s name. You had better take him away and pour some cold water on his head’’—~to Will's com- rade, ‘‘If he wants to find mel can be seen at the coast guard-house, down the beach, at any hour af- ter daylight to-morrow. If he is anxious to have his fine coat dusted he can have a chance there. But we have had enough of his drunken brawling here.” Fred turned and walked steadily away, paying no further attention to the utterances of tipsy an- tagonist. CHAPTER VII. A QUEER ‘“‘CHOICE OF WEAPONS.”’ ‘*Comn, Fred,’’ said old Tom Halyard, meeting the lad on hisway home. ‘It is time that old b like mine, and young blood like yours, too, was safe abed. Those dancing snips, that spend half the day snoozin’, can afford to spend the night at toe- tippin’; ‘put I’ve a notion that you and me mought want to be abroad ’arly to-morrow.”’ of Mf ?”’ replied Fred. ‘‘Is there anything special oat?’ ‘*Where’s your eyes, boy? I thought you knew the weather sign better. Look yonder to win’ward. D’ye see that white line, there where the moon’ll spring in a couple of hours? And the wind has veered two points to the nor’-east in the last half- hour, Mr. Darlington was axing yesterday if thesea ever got on its mettle down here. Ishouldn’t won- der if in see a touch of its temper long afore anoth- er sunset,”’ Fred turned his eyes in the direction indicated, and closely observed the eres of the sky. ‘*T noticed that before,’”’ he remarked, ** but I did not know its meaning.”’ “It means wind,” replied the old sailor. ‘‘And more than a cap-full, if I’m not mistaken. There's some mare’s tails dipping down into the streak. Take it all in, Fred. It’s part of your eddication. And now we'd best turnin.” ‘‘T’ll sleep at the coast guard-house,” returned Fred. “Ift ere'adanger1 want tobeontheground.” “Right, boy,”’ cried the old man, clapping Fred’s shoulder. ‘'There’s sound wood ot de young hull, Better drown on duty than die sb bg. But kee aise weather-eye open, lad. that .o om can’t spare yecheap.”’ Fred left his father with an affectionate of the hand—which would have been a kiss only that pdt salt disapproved of what he called ‘*maun- ering.” Ere he sought his bed he turned for another look atthesky. The luridline had slightly widened since he saw it last. Some light shreds of clouds crossed it, drawn into hair-like lines. The wind was grow- ing stronger, and a mournful, soughing sound came from the sea, as if it felt in its deep heart the coming storm, Fred shook his head doubtfully, and slowly enter- ed the house, in which, indeed, most of his nights were spent. Old Tom’s prediction prowese trueone. Long be- fore morning the wind was rushing by in short, uick puffs that shook the house to its foundations. dthe surf was beating with trip-hammer blows upon the hard sands, while the wind sheared the foaming crests of the waves, and tossed its white burden far inland. Morning broke upon a lurid and terrifying scene. The wind had now risen to a hard, steady gale broken only by occasional squalls, which passed Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy. ee eee with a whistle that was almost a scream, and rocked | ‘But, there are chaps of a different tune behind the house as if it would carry it bodily wwey: The | them,” pointing to a evening clouds had been blown from the s v and only driving patches of vapor here and there flecked the azure hue of the heavens. The sea was grand, with the grandeur of terror. The surf of the preceding day was but a child’s toy to the vast billows which now rolled in, breaking in tones of thunder upon the white sands, tossing their broken fragments almost up to the level of the city, and dashing st the face of the sandhills which bordered the beach below the town. It was a scene long tobe remembered. The foam- ing wave crests were cut as with a knife by the nds, and the air was full of flecks of foam borne inward, but soon torn into indistinguishable shreds. No one slept late that morning in Beach City, and many a face was whitened with terror, or stilled with the shadow of a great awe, as they for the first time turned upon the ocean in its might. It was strangely different from the summer seas from which they had gained their previous impressions of the great Atlantic. Beauty was gone, and sublimity had taken its place. The inmates of the red house had been long astir. Early daybreak found them on the beach, from which they had drawn back their boats inside the danger line, while they were busily preparing certain other essentials in case of a wreck. So far no sail was visible in the offing, and it was hoped that every craft had taken’ the alarm in time to run out to sea. ‘“'There’s only one thing of any use in a blow like this; and that’s sea room,”’’ declared Harry Bains as he coiled a slender rope beside an instrument that looked like a short cannon, ‘Il pity the poor devils who haven’t sniffed this gale in the air. To te caught on a lee shore in such a blow is certain ruin.”’ “* And it’s a high old morning for a duel,”’ remark- ed ars ‘One would have to shoot well to wind- ward,’ ‘““What’s that about a duel, boy?’ asked Harry, looking up from his rope. its Nothing of much account,” replied Fred, indif- ferently. ‘‘I challenged a city snipe last night; that was all. The fool wanted to raise a row on the Man- sion House porch. I told him if satisfaction was the one hope of his life that I might be found here any time after daylight this morning. I guess, though, he will hardly care to face this wind, and a flogging into the bargain.”’ “ Well, if you ain’t quick on the trigger!’’ protest- ed Harry. “ by you were in bunk not twenty minutes after I left you. You didn’t stir up a quar- rel in that time?” “ There’s ee ee stirred than a fight. If one man is full of fire and another full of gunpow- der a blow-up is going to follow, I aoce: though, this will be only a flash inthe pan. The fellow has more blow than backbone— Hallo! By Heaven! Harry, there she lifts!’’ Fred sprung excitedly forward on piviz this ex- clamation. He grasped a long spy-giass that lay on a chair beside Harry, and in an instant had it to his eye, looking out to sea in a north-easterly direc- on. Harry had also risen, and was shading his eyes as he looked seaward. ““Whereaway, Fred? I don’t catch it. Can you make out any ~~ bes ‘Yes. You are looking too far out. Here, off the swell of Turtle Island. make it out a barque, of considerable tonnage. She is hauled close to the en but is ag deal too near shore for com- ort.’ He handed Harry the glass. He had just caught sight of the sail, and now gazed intently upon her for several minutes. **There’s work cut out for us, boys,’’? he said to the men, who had gathered around with earnest serious faces. ‘There is no salvation for that chap. He can’t claw off in the teeth of this gale; and no anchor will hold on our bottom.” The expression of the men showed that they fully agreed with him. ** Will he clear the island?’ arked Fred. : ‘““Yes. Though it will bea close rasp. It’s a dead pity but there were more water in the inlet.. But it wouldn’t be safe for over a ten-foot draft on the bar, even with this gale.” They silently watched the posure vessel, which had come much more plainly into sight during their colloquy. The sun had risen for some time, and was eee ing upon the waters as brightly as if this was utasummer zephyr. It now touched the of the approaching vessel with a warm promise that did not seem likely to be realized. The mariners were ee en: aware of their peril, for at this moment the vy boom of a can- non came thundering upon the air, stirring up as with an electric shock the groups that had gathered in front of the city, but who had not yet seen the distant ship. ‘I hope they will keep where they are. If there is work to do, I would rather not have such a lot of deadwood in our way. Touch off the gun, Joe!” commanded Harry. One of the men, at this order, fired a light cannon that had been placed in front of the house. But the wiud seized, as it were, upon the sound, and carried it off overland. It was impossible that it could reach, with its tidings of vigilance, the despairing crew. ‘*I fancy we have only stirred up the city folks,” rh mae one of the men. “Here comes a delega- tion.” ‘*We can stand them,” replied Harry. ‘“That’s only old Tom, and Jack Sprat, and some other salt mackerel. They are the kind of timber we want.” ee oup of four or five well- young men, who were coming down the “T'll be shot if it ain’t my friend!’ cried Fred. “The chap that promised to salt and pepper me. Well, he’s got more heart than I gave him credit for, if it’s a fight he is after.” “A fight at a time like this? Ill be hangedif we don’t souse him in the sea, with his fine friends after him, if he mentions it,’’ and Harry’s ire was up. ‘Leave him to me,’’ suggested Fred, with a wink. “*T think I will take the starch out of him.” The imperiled barque had come much nearer du- ring this conversation. Several of her sails had blown into shreds, and it seemed as much as the crew could do to command her. She was setting shoreward with frightful rapidity, ‘"She is safe from the island,’ thought Harry. “But she will not clear our bar. It’s a chance it she has ten minutes more of life.” The boom of a cannon was again borne by the gale to their ears, answered by the gleam of a rock- et from the coast-guard house. “Is it me you want to see, my friends?’’ asked Fred, stepping up to the group of young men, who had now arrived. ‘Oris this only a friendly morn- ing visit?’’ **T presume you thought, when you chose to insult me last night, that I would not take the trouble to chastise you this morning,”’ spoke out Wilbur How- ard, advancing from the center of the group. ‘But, low-born cur as you are, I never let any one insult me without repaying them. I never hide myself behind my station.”’ “Oh! you don’t? Well, that is certainly very con- descending in you. I ought to be proud to have no- ble blood like yours to honor me in this way. What is it to be? Swords or pistols?” A curl of disdain came upon Howard’s lips. ‘Those are the weapons of gentlemen,” he said. **Such as you must be fought with churls’ weapons.”’ “Oho! Isee, Fists, you mean?” ‘i ‘“Yes,”” replied Howard, who was a practiced oxer. “Well, as you won’t take your choice of gentle- en’s weapons, you will have to take my choice of churls’ weapons. You have given up the right of choice. You must fight now with my weapons, or acknowledge yourself beaten.” ‘That is so,’ put in Harry Bains. ‘‘And as long as you have come 60 far to fight, fight you shall, or I’m hanged if we don’t duck the crew of you.” Howard looked with a disconcerted eye at the stalwart forms facing him. But he was no coward when it came to a question of fisticuffs, or any or- HBA, mode of fighting. “Tf it’s any CHE reasonable I will not back out,” he remarked. “I owe that chap a trouncing, and am not going back till I have administered it.’ “Tt’s elegant weather to fight in,’’ declared Fred, as a fresh gale whistled overhead, and the air came by full of driving mist. ‘“*‘Can you handle an oar? ot asa club, but in the rowlocks, I mean,”’ ‘lam a member of the Schuylkill navy,” was the proud reply. ‘*Oh! then you are a fine fresh-water sailor!’ was Fred s contemptuous reminder. ‘‘And you know as much about salt-water rowing as a catfish.” ‘‘T am not afraid to handle an oar in fresh or salt water, with the best man that ever floated,’’ How- ard boastingly returned, “ Allright, my covey!” retorted Fred, with a look that stung his antagonist to the quick, ‘In ten minutes more that good barque will touch bottom. Then there be men’s lives to save instead of boys’ noses to scrape. There will be work for the life-boat, if a life-boat can swim in these waters. That is my challenge. If the life-boat goes out I pull an oar in it, andI challenge you to pull a sec- ond. Any man or boy that tries to kick up a fight in a storm like this, and with a shipload of human souls pase ey ashore under his eves, ought to be cartwhipped if he had his due. There is only one Hay to redeem yourself, and that is by taking an oar in be life-boat. Am I not in the right of it, gentle- men i A shout of approval went up from all present. - ““By Davy Jones, Fred, you have him there!” cried old Tom, exultingly. Will Howard’s face whitened as he looked upon the raging sea. He glanced back at the resolute faces around him and dared not refuse. One more look at the sea, and he screwed up his courage to the sticking point. “T accept,’ he said, but it was with trembling ps. His yoice was drowned in a despairing cry borne in on the gale fromthesea. The barque had struck! One of her masts had gone by the board, and the wind was whistling forongh her shredded sails, while the climbing seas swept her helpless bulk from stem to stern. CHAPTER VIII. WRECKED ON THE BAR, THE point at which the vessel had struck was scarcely a quarter of a mile below the life-station— or coast-guard house, as it was usually termed. She had beached on a sandy bar, about two or three hundred Phat beyond low-water mark, and was now grinding deeper and deeper into the sands at every plunge of the waters. er sails, torn into ribbons, cracked like whip- lashes inthe flerce wind. Her masts creaked and strained, as if they would leap from their sockets. The foremast had already gone by the board, and was thumping the side of the vessel with thundering blows, being held fast by its unparted a The combing waves mounted the bulwarks of dressed | OOK) Geom cs Cc (E(o)