Follow My leader Part 28

d.i.c.k did not even condescend to plead; he fell headlong on his huge opponent, shouting, in the midst of his blows--

"Let us go, do you hear? I know your name; you're Tom White, the boatman, and I'll get you locked up if you don't."

But even this valiant threat, and the still more valiant struggles of the two boys, availed nothing with the nautical highwayman, who smoked, and shook the bones of his wretched captives, till they were fain to call for mercy.

The mercy was dearly bought. d.i.c.k's half-sovereign, Heathcote's twelve s.h.i.+llings, the penknife with the gouge, among them did not make up the price. One by one their pockets were turned inside out, and whatever there took the fancy of the n.o.ble mariner went into the ransom.

Pencils, india-rubber, keys, and even a photograph of d.i.c.k's mother were impounded; while resistance, or even expostulation only added bone- shaking into the bargain; till, at last, the unhappy lambs were glad to a.s.sist at their own fleecing, in order to expedite their release.

"There yer are," said Tom, when at last the operation was over, "that's about all I want of yer, my hearties; and if yer want the road to Templeton, that's she, and good-night to yer, and thank yer kindly.

Next time yer want a sail, don't forget to give an honest jack tar a turn. Knows my name, do yer? Blessed if I ever see you afore."

"You're a beastly, low, tipsy thief," shouted d.i.c.k, from a respectful distance, "and we'll get you paid out for this."

And not waiting for a reply, the two unfortunates, less heavily weighted than ever, started down the road, snorting with rage and indignation and full of thoughts of the direst revenge.

Nemesis was coming down on them at last with a vengeance!

Two miles they went before speech came to the relief of their wounded feelings.

"It's transportation," said Heathcote.

"Cat-o'-nine-tails too," said d.i.c.k.

"Jolly good job," said Heathcote.

And they went on another mile.

Then it occurred to them this was not the road along which they had driven in the morning; and once more the villainy of Tom White broke upon them in all its blackness.

"He's sent us upon the wrong road!" said Heathcote, beginning at last to feel that Nemesis was a little overdoing it.

d.i.c.k gulped down something, and walked on in silence.

"Where are you going? What's the use of going on?"

"May as well," said d.i.c.k, striding on. "It's bound to lead somewhere."

In which comfortable conviction they accomplished another half-mile.

Then to their satisfaction, and somewhat to d.i.c.k's self-satisfaction, they heard a low noise ahead, which they knew must be the sea.

"I thought it would bring us out," said d.i.c.k. "When once we get at the sea, we can't help finding Templeton."

"Unless we take a wrong turn to start with, and then we shall have to walk all round England before we turn up."

"Shut up, Georgie, we've had foolery enough for one night."

Heathcote collapsed, and another mile brought the two wanderers to the sea.

Luckily for them, the rising moon came to their rescue in deciding whereabouts they were.

"Not far out," said d.i.c.k, "there's the Sprit Rock; two miles more will do it."

"I shan't be sorry when I'm in bed," said Heathcote.

"I shan't be sorry when I see Tom White hung. I say, we may as well have a dip before we go on."

So they solaced themselves with a plunge in the moonlit sea, which, after their dusty labours, was wonderfully refres.h.i.+ng. Having dressed again, all but their shoes and stockings, which they looped together and hung over their shoulders, they tucked up their trousers, and started to wade along the strand to their journey's end.

The tide had only just started to come in, so they had the benefit of the hard sand, which, combined with the soft, refres.h.i.+ng water and the bright moonlight, rendered their pilgrimage as pleasant as, under the circ.u.mstances, they could have desired. Their talk was of Thomas White, for whom it was well he was not within earshot. They arrested him, tried him, sentenced him, flogged him, transported him, and yet were not satisfied.

"You know, Georgie," said d.i.c.k, working himself into a fury, "he collared my mother's photograph! the low cad! I'd be a beast if I didn't pay him out."

"Rather! and I'll back you up, old man. I was going to get a tennis-bat with that twelve bob; the blackguard!"

About a mile from home the lights of Templeton hove in sight; but still our heroes' talk was of Tom White and the next a.s.sizes.

They had the beach to themselves, with only a few stranded boats for company, over whose anchors they had to pick their way gingerly.

"The tide's coming in at a lick," said d.i.c.k. "Half an hour later, we should have had to tramp on the soft sand-- Lookout, you duffer!"

The last remark was caused by Heathcote tripping over a rope, and coming down all fours on the wet sand.

"Bother that rope," said he, "I never saw it. I say, it's rather a small one for that big boat, isn't it?"

"It is," said d.i.c.k, walking round to the stern of the boat in question, "its-- Hallo, I say, Georgie, look here!"

Georgie looked in the direction of d.i.c.k's finger, and read the words, "'_Martha_,' _Thomas White, Templeton_" on the stern of the boat.

Both boys whistled. Then d.i.c.k marched resolutely up to the bows, over a thwart in which the anchor rope was. .h.i.tched in a loop.

"Tom White must have been drunk when he anch.o.r.ed this boat," said d.i.c.k.

"She'll never hold if the wind gets up."

"Good job, too," said Heathcote.

"So I think," said d.i.c.k, thoughtfully. "I say, Georgie," added he, with his fingers playing on the end of the loop, "Tom White's a frightful cad, isn't he?"

"Rather!"

"And a thief, too?"

"I should think so."

"It would serve him jolly well right if he lost his boat."

"He don't deserve to have a boat at all."