Gold Seekers of '49 Part 10

"Well, we might as well begin to rough it now as any time," remarked the Fremont man, after a keen look at the back of the retreating clerk.

"We'll have to make our own way--and I reckon we can do it. Come on."

He shouldered ahead, Charley in his wake. The emerged aft, on the upper deck.

"Wait here a moment," bade the Fremont man; and abruptly left Charley on guard over the baggage. He returned in a minute or two.

"No berths," he reported. "I wanted to find out. Now I know. We can sleep in the steerage, they tell me. Huh! Not after we've paid extra for fresh air. Let me look around."

He did, surveying the crowded deck. Suddenly picked up the baggage.

"I see a spot," he said, and led the way.

Just outside the rail, over the stern was slung a large boat--one of the s.h.i.+p's life-boats. It hung by ropes to the davits, and was covered with a tarpaulin, or canvas, stretched over it and tied down.

The Fremont man halted, at the rail, and pitched the baggage over upon the boat.

"There we are," he said with a smile, to Charley. "Some of us can sleep on top--and if it rains I reckon we can double under. Go get your father, now, and I'll hold the fort."

Away hurried Charley--excited, and in his mind the idea that this was to be the queerest bed that he had occupied yet. But he had faith in the big Fremont man.

He took a look from the rail, to watch the dock below. Most of the pa.s.sengers up here were crowded at this rail, to survey just as he was surveying. The stern had been left comparatively free. There was his father--he recognized the tall figure, and the limp--just arrived below, gazing about anxiously. Charley yelled, and waved, but he could not make himself heard or seen. Too much else was going on. So he raced down, and rushed out upon the dock.

"Come on, quick, dad," he greeted, breathless. "We've found a place!"

"Who?"

"The Fremont man and I. He found it, though."

"Did you get a berth?" panted his father, following him. "They told me at the steams.h.i.+p office that every berth was taken long ago. I had to fight for the tickets, even. Never saw such a mob."

"No, not a berth. But it's a place, anyhow. You'll see."

In the short s.p.a.ce of time the upper deck had grown more populous than ever. They worked their way through the crowd, Charley eagerly looking ahead for the Fremont man at his post.

"This is awful," spoke Mr. Adams. "The steams.h.i.+p company ought to be brought to law about it."

"There he is," directed Charley, gladly. "See him. We've got the life-boat!"

But perhaps they hadn't, for when they arrived, the Fremont man was calmly barring the way of three other men--among them the long-nosed man, who was doing most of the arguing on their part.

"No, gentlemen, you're too late," a.s.serted the Fremont man, thrusting them back with his rifle-barrel held crosswise. "That boat's occupied."

Charley remembered to have seen the little gang much together, on the _Georgia_, drinking and gambling. They were a tough lot.

"Tell that to the marines," retorted the long-nosed man. "We'll have that boat, or we'll know a better reason than _you're_ giving."

"Reason enough, and here's my proof," quoth the Fremont man. "The boat's pre-empted by us three. You must hunt another claim."

Mr. Adams promptly stepped forward, to the Fremont man's side.

"What's this about?" he demanded.

"Oh, it's you again, is it--you and your kid!" snarled the long-nosed man. "You're chalking up another score to settle, are you?" And, to his fellows: "What do you say, boys? Shall we throw them overboard?"

"Over they go," announced one of the other men--a thin sallow, drooping-moustached kind--with marvelous swiftness whipping from under his coat breast a fifteen-inch blade bowie-knife.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Over they go!"]

Charley's heart leaped into his throat with horror. He wanted to spring to his father's side, but his legs would not work. However, the affair was settled very easily. The Fremont man quickly handed his rifle to Mr. Adams, grabbed the long-nosed Jacobs, in bear-like grip, and fairly threw him into the man with the knife. Together the pair went down in a heap, almost knocking over several of the onlookers.

"You next," declared the Fremonter, with a jump at the third of the gang--who hastily recoiled, in alarm. So did the onlookers. So did the two men who were scrambling to their feet again. The Fremont man had proved as quick and as strong as a gorilla. Now he laughed grimly.

"Come on," he invited. "Come on with your knives or anything else that you have. But we won't go overboard just yet. We can't swim!"

The three fellows didn't "come on," worth a cent. The one with the knife hung back farthest of all. They sputtered and glared, a little uncertain just what to do with a man so energetic and fearless as the Fremont man.

"All right, boys," snarled the long-nosed man. "There's more than one way to deal with 'em. We don't want trouble. We're peaceable citizens. But if that boat doesn't belong to us, it doesn't belong to anybody." And he threatened, to the Fremont man and Charley's father: "In about five minutes we'll settle _your_ hash."

With that he turned, and he and his two companions shouldered their way brusquely through the crowd.

The Fremont man laughed again.

"Fists are the only weapons needed with gentry of that cla.s.s," he said, contemptuously. "Bah! I think more of Digger Injuns."

Some of the onlookers nodded and murmured a.s.sent. The half circle that had been attracted by the dispute broke up. n.o.body had tried to interfere, even when the knife had been drawn. Charley soon found that similar contests for sleeping places were occurring everywhere aboard.

It was a grand free-for-all rush.

Mr. Adams gave Charley an a.s.suring nod, as if to say: "Here's a man who knows what to do and how to do it"; and he remarked, quietly, to their friend: "Thanks to you, I guess we're rid of that trouble."

"And easily rid, too," answered the Fremont man; he composedly reached for his rifle, leaned it against the rail, and standing on the bench running inside the rail began to rearrange the baggage on the canvas covering of the boat.

But he was interrupted, for there came in a hurry a s.h.i.+p's officer, as if sent by the long-nosed man.

"Here! Take your things off that boat," he ordered. "You can't use that boat. It's a life-boat."

"Where are we to stow ourselves, then?" queried Mr. Adams, at once.

"I don't know. But you can't use that boat."

"Will you give us a berth in place of it?"

"No, sir," informed the officer, crisply.

"We've got to have some place for ourselves and our personal baggage, sir," declared Mr. Adams. "Our tickets ent.i.tle us to a berth. We're doing the best we can, to keep from littering the deck; but if you insist on imposing further we'll carry the matter to Government authority and see whether we were not sold tickets under false pretenses."

The officer hesitated. Clearly, these three pa.s.sengers knew how to stand up for themselves. He decided to let well enough alone.

"You occupy the boat at your own risk, then," he snapped. "The company does not hold itself liable. Understand that?"