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  "I am going to take you from the island!"]

  The COURAGE of CAPTAIN PLUM

  BYJAMES OLIVER CURWOOD1912

  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BYFRANK E. SCHOONOVER

  THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM

  CHAPTER I

  THE TWO OATHS

  On an afternoon in the early summer of 1856 Captain Nathaniel Plum,master and owner of the sloop _Typhoon_ was engaged in nothing moreimportant than the smoking of an enormous pipe. Clouds of stronglyodored smoke, tinted with the lights of the setting sun, had risen abovehis head in unremitting volumes for the last half hour. There wasinfinite contentment in his face, notwithstanding the fact that he hadbeen meditating on a subject that was not altogether pleasant. ButCaptain Plum was, in a way, a philosopher, though one would not haveguessed this fact from his appearance. He was, in the first place, ayoung man, not more than eight or nine and twenty, and his strong,rather thin face, tanned by exposure to the sea, was just now lighted upby eyes that shone with an unbounded good humor which any instant mighttake the form of laughter.

  At the present time Captain Plum's vision was confined to one direction,which carried his gaze out over Lake Michigan. Earlier in the day he hadbeen able to discern the hazy outline of the Michigan wilderness twentymiles to the eastward. Straight ahead, shooting up rugged and sharp inthe red light of the day's end, were two islands. Between these, threemiles away, the sloop _Typhoon_ was strongly silhouetted in the fadingglow. Beyond the islands and the sloop there were no other objects forCaptain Plum's eyes to rest upon. So far as he could see there was noother sail. At his back he was shut in by a dense growth of trees andcreeping vines, and unless a small boat edged close in around the endof Beaver Island his place of concealment must remain undiscovered. Atleast this seemed an assured fact to Captain Plum.

  In the security of his position he began to whistle softly as he beatthe bowl of his pipe on his boot-heel to empty it of ashes. Then he drewa long-barreled revolver from under a coat that he had thrown aside andexamined it carefully to see that the powder and ball were in solid andthat none of the caps was missing. From the same place he brought fortha belt, buckled it round his waist, shoved the revolver into itsholster, and dragging the coat to him, fished out a letter from aninside pocket. It was a dirty, much worn letter. Perhaps he had read ita score of times. He read it again now, and then, refilling his pipe,settled back against the rock that formed a rest for his shoulders andturned his eyes in the direction of the sloop.

  The last rim of the sun had fallen below the Michigan wilderness and inthe rapidly increasing gloom the sloop was becoming indistinguishable.Captain Plum looked at his watch. He must still wait a little longerbefore setting out upon the adventure that had brought him to thisisolated spot. He rested his head against the rock, and thought. He hadbeen thinking for hours. Back in the thicket he heard the prowling ofsome small animal. There came the sleepy chirp of a bird and therustling of tired wings settling for the night. A strange stillnesshovered about him, and with it there came over him a loneliness that waschilling, a loneliness that made him homesick. It was a new andunpleasant sensation to Captain Plum. He could not remember just when hehad experienced it before; that is, if he dated the present from twoweeks ago to-night. It was then that the letter had been handed to himin Chicago, and it had been a weight upon his soul and a prick to hisconscience ever since. Once or twice he had made up his mind to destroyit, but each time he had repented at the last moment. In a suddenrevulsion at his weakness he pulled himself together, crumpled thedirty missive into a ball, and flung it out upon the white rim of beach.

  At this action there came a quick movement in the dense wall of verdurebehind him. Noiselessly the tangle of vines separated and a head thrustitself out in time to see the bit of paper fall short of the water'sedge. Then the head shot back as swiftly and as silently as a serpent's.Perhaps Captain Plum heard the gloating chuckle that followed themovement. If so he thought it only some night bird in the brush.

  "Heigh-ho!" he exclaimed with some return of his old cheer, "it's abouttime we were starting!" He jumped to his feet and began brushing thesand from his clothes. When he had done, he walked out upon the rim ofbeach and stretched himself until his arm-bones cracked.

  Again the hidden head shot forth from its concealment. A sudden turn andCaptain Plum would certainly have been startled. For it was a weirdobject, this spying head; its face dead-white against the dense green ofthe verdure, with shocks of long white hair hanging down on each side,framing between them a pair of eyes that gleamed from cavernous sockets,like black glowing beads. There was unmistakable fear, a tense anxietyin those glittering eyes as Captain Plum walked toward the paper, butwhen he paused and stretched himself, the sole of his boot carelesslytrampling the discarded letter, the head disappeared again and therecame another satisfied bird-like chuckle from the gloom of the thicket.

  Captain Plum now put on his coat, buttoned it close to conceal theweapons in his belt, and walked along the narrow water-run that creptlike a white ribbon between the lake and the island wilderness. Nosooner had he disappeared than the bushes and vines behind the rock weretorn asunder and a man wormed his way through them. For an instant hepaused, listening for returning footsteps, and then with startlingagility darted to the beach and seized the crumpled letter.

  The person who for the greater part of the afternoon had been spyingupon Captain Plum from the security of the thicket was to allappearances a very small and a very old man, though there was somethingabout him that seemed to belie a first guess at his age. His face wasemaciated; his hair was white and hung in straggling masses on hisshoulders; his hooked nose bore apparently the infallible stamp ofextreme age. Yet there was a strange and uncanny strength and quicknessin his movements. There was no stoop to his shoulders. His head was setsquarely. His eyes were as keen as steel. It would have been impossibleto have told whether he was fifty or seventy. Eagerly he smoothed outthe abused missive and evidently succeeded even in the failing light, indeciphering much of it, for the glimmer of a smile flashed over his thinfeatures as he thrust the paper into his pocket.

  Without a moment's hesitation he set out on the trail of Captain Plum. Aquarter of a mile down the path he overtook the object of his pursuit.

  "Ah, how do you do, sir?" he greeted as the younger man turned aboutupon hearing his approach. "A mighty fast pace you're setting for an oldman, sir!" He broke into a laugh that was not altogether unpleasant, andboldly held out a hand. "We've been expecting you, but--not in this way.I hope there's nothing wrong?"

  Captain Plum had accepted the proffered hand. Its coldness and thesingular appearance of the old man who had come like an apparitionchilled him. In a moment, however, it occurred to him that he was avictim of mistaken identity. As far as he knew there was no one onBeaver Island who was expecting him. To the best of his knowledge he wasa fool for being there. His crew aboard the sloop had agreed upon thatpoint with extreme vehemence and, to a man, had attempted to dissuadehim from the mad project upon which he was launching himself among theMormons in their island stronghold. All this came to him while thelittle old man was looking up into his face, chuckling, and shaking hishand as if he were one of the most important and most greatly to bedesired personages in the world.

  "Hope there's nothing wrong, Cap'n?" he repeated.

  "Right as a trivet here, Dad," replied the young man, dropping the coldhand that still persisted in clinging to his own. "But I guess you'vegot the wrong party. Who's expecting me?"

  The old man's face wrinkled itself in a grimace and one gleaming eyeopened and closed in an understanding wink.


  "Ho, ho, ho!--of course you're not expected. Anyway, you're not_expected_ to be expected! Cautious--a born general--mighty clever thingto do. Strang should appreciate it." The old man gave vent to his ownapprobation in a series of inimitable chuckles. "Is that your sloop outthere?" he inquired interestedly.

  Something in the strangeness of the situation began to interest CaptainPlum. He had planned a little adventure of his own, but here was onethat promised to develop into something more exciting. He nodded hishead.

  "That's her."

  "Splendid cargo," went on the old man. "Splendid cargo, eh?"

  "Pretty fair."

  "Powder in good shape, eh?"

  "Dry as tinder."

  "And balls--lots of balls, and a few guns, eh?"

  "Yes, we _have_ a few guns," said Captain Plum. The old man noted theemphasis, but the darkness that had fast settled about them hid theadded meaning that passed in a curious look over the other's face.

  "Odd way to come in, though--very odd!" continued the old man, gurglingand shaking as if the thought of it occasioned him great merriment."Very cautious. Level business head. Want to know that things are onthe square, eh?"

  "That's it!" exclaimed Captain Plum, catching at the proffered straw.Inwardly he was wondering when his feet would touch bottom. Thus far hehad succeeded in getting but a single grip on the situation. Somebodywas expected at Beaver Island with powder and balls and guns. Well, hehad a certain quantity of these materials aboard his sloop, and if hecould make an agreeable bargain--

  The old man interrupted the plan that was slowly forming itself inCaptain Plum's puzzled brain.

  "It's the price, eh?" He laughed shrewdly. "You want to see the color ofthe gold before you land the goods. I'll show it to you. I'll pay youthe whole sum to-night. Then you'll take the stuff where I tell you to.Eh? Isn't that so?" He darted ahead of Captain Plum with a quick alertmovement. "Will you please follow me, sir?"

  For an instant Captain Plum's impulse was to hold back. In that instantit suddenly occurred to him that he was lending himself to a rankimposition. At the same time he was filled with a desire to go deeperinto the adventure, and his blood thrilled with the thought of what itmight hold for him.

  "Are you coming, sir?"

  The little old man had stopped a dozen paces away and turnedexpectantly.

  "I tell you again that you've got the wrong man, Dad!"

  "Will you follow me, sir?"

  "Well, if you'll have it so--damned if I won't!" cried Captain Plum. Hefelt that he had relieved his conscience, anyway. If things shoulddevelop badly for him during the next few hours no one could say that hehad lied. So he followed light-heartedly after the old man, his eyes andears alert, and his right hand, by force of habit, reaching under hiscoat to the butt of his pistol. His guide said not another word untilthey had traveled for half an hour along a twisting path and stood atlast on the bald summit of a knoll from which they could look down upona number of lights twinkling dimly a quarter of a mile away. One ofthese lights gleamed above all the others, like a beacon set amongfireflies.

  "That's St. James," said the old man. His voice had changed. It was lowand soft, as though he feared to speak above a whisper.

  "St. James!"

  The young man at his side gazed down silently upon the scattered lights,his heart throbbing in a sudden tumult of excitement. He had set outthat day with the idea of resting his eyes on St. James. In its silentmystery the town now lay at his feet.

  "And that light--" spoke the old man. He pointed a trembling arm towardthe glare that shone more powerfully than the others. "That light marksthe sacred home of the king!" His voice had again changed. A metallichardness came into it, his words were vibrant with a strange excitementwhich he strove hard to conceal. It was still light enough for CaptainPlum to see that the old man's black, beady eyes were startlingly alivewith newly aroused emotion.

  "You mean--"

  "Strang!"

  He started rapidly down the knoll and there floated back to Captain Plumthe soft notes of his meaningless chuckle. A dozen rods farther on hismysterious guide turned into a by-path which led them to another knoll,capped by a good-sized building made of logs. There sounded the gratingof a key in a lock, the shooting of a bolt, and a door opened to admitthem.

  "You will pardon me if I don't light up," apologized the old man as heled the way in. "A candle will be sufficient. You know there must beprivacy in these matters--always. Eh? Isn't that so?"

  Captain Plum followed without reply. He guessed that the cabin was madeup of one large room, and that at the present time, at least, itpossessed no other occupant than the singular creature who had guidedhim to it.

  "It is just as well, on this particular night, that no light is seen atthe window," continued the old man as he rummaged about a table for amatch and a candle. "I have a little corner back here that a candle willbrighten up nicely and no one in the world will know it. Ho, ho,ho!--how nice it is to have a quiet little corner sometimes! Eh, CaptainPlum?"

  At the sound of his name Captain Plum started as though an unexpectedhand had suddenly been laid upon him. So he _was_ expected, after all,and his name was known! For a moment his surprise robbed him of thepower of speech. The little old man had lighted his candle, and,grinning back over his shoulder, passed through a narrow cut in thewall that could hardly be called a door and planted his light on a tablethat stood in the center of a small room, or closet, not more than fivefeet square. Then he coolly pulled Captain Plum's old letter from hispocket and smoothed it out in the dim light.

  "Be seated, Captain Plum; right over there--opposite me. So!"

  He continued for a moment to smooth out the creases in the letter andthen proceeded to read it with as much assurance as though its ownerwere a thousand miles away instead of within arm's reach of him. CaptainPlum was dumfounded. He felt the hot blood rushing to his face and hisfirst impulse was to recover the crumpled paper and demand somethingmore than an explanation. In the next instant it occurred to him thatthis action would probably spoil whatever possibilities his night'sadventure might have for him. So he held his peace. The old man was sointent in his perusal of the letter that the end of his hooked nosealmost scraped the table. He went over the dim, partly obliterated wordsline by line, chuckling now and then, and apparently utterly obliviousof the other's presence. When he had come to the end he looked up, hiseyes glittering with unbounded satisfaction, carefully folded theletter, and handed it to Captain Plum.

  "That's the best introduction in the world, Captain Plum--the very best!Ho, ho!--it couldn't be better. I'm glad I found it." He chuckledgleefully, and rested his ogreish head in the palms of his skeleton-likehands, his elbows on the table. "So you're going back home--soon?"

  "I haven't made up my mind yet, Dad," responded Captain Plum, pullingout his pipe and tobacco. "You've read the letter pretty carefully, Iguess. What would you do?"

  "Vermont?" questioned the old man shortly.

  "That's it."

  "Well, I'd go, and very soon, Captain Plum, _very_ soon, indeed. Yes,I'd hurry!" The old man jumped up with the quickness of a cat. So suddenwas his movement that it startled Captain Plum, and he dropped histobacco pouch. By the time he had recovered this article his strangecompanion was back in his seat again holding a leather bag in his hand.Quickly he untied the knot at its top and poured a torrent of glitteringgold pieces out upon the table.

  "Business--business and gold," he gurgled happily, rubbing his thinhands and twisting his fingers until they cracked. "A pretty sight, eh,Captain Plum? Now, to our account! A hundred carbines, eh? And athousand of powder and a ton of balls. Or is it in lead? It doesn't makeany difference--not a bit. It's three thousand, that's the account, eh?"He fell to counting rapidly.

  For a full minute Captain Plum remained in stupefied bewilderment,silenced by the sudden and unexpected turn his adventure had taken.Fascinated, he watched the skeleton fingers as they clinked the goldpieces. What was the mysterious plot into which he had allowe
d himselfto be drawn? Why were a hundred guns and a ton and a half of powder andballs wanted by the Mormons of Beaver Island? Instinctively he reachedout and closed his hand over the counting fingers of the old man. Theireyes met. And there was a shrewd, half-understanding gleam in the blackorbs that fixed Captain Plum in an unflinching challenge. For a littlespace there was silence. It was Captain Plum who broke it.

  "Dad, I'm going to tell you for the third and last time that you've madea mistake. I've got eight of the best rifles in America aboard my sloopout there. But there's a man for every gun. And I've got somethinghidden away underdeck that would blow up St. James in half an hour. Andthere is powder and ball for the whole outfit. But that's all. I'll sellyou what I've got--for a good price. Beyond that you've got the wrongman!"

  He settled back and blew a volume of smoke from his pipe. For anotherhalf minute the old man continued to look at him, his eyes twinkling,and then he fell to counting again.

  Captain Plum was not given over to the habit of cursing. But now hejumped to his feet with an oath that jarred the table. The old manchuckled. The gold pieces clinked between his fingers. Coolly he shovedtwo glittering piles alongside the candle-stick, tumbled the rest backinto the leather bag, deliberately tied the end, and smiled up into theface of the exasperated captain.

  "To be sure you're not the man," he said, nodding his head until hiself-locks danced around his face. "Of course you're not the man. I knowit--ho, ho! you can wager that I know it! A little ruse of mine, CaptainPlum. Pardonable--excusable, eh? I wanted to know if you were a liar. Iwanted to see if you were honest."

  Captain Plum]

  With a gasp of astonishment Captain Plum sank back into the chair. Hisjaw dropped and his pipe was held fireless in his hand.

  "The devil you say!"

  "Oh, certainly, certainly, if you wish it," chuckled the little man, inhigh humor. "I would have visited your sloop to-day, Captain Plum, ifyou hadn't come ashore so opportunely this morning. Ho, ho, ho! a goodjoke, eh? A mighty good joke!"

  Captain Plum regained his composure by relighting his pipe. He heard thechink of gold pieces and when he looked again the two piles of moneywere close to the edge of his side of the table.

  "That's for you, Captain Plum. There's just a thousand dollars in thosetwo piles." There was tense earnestness now in the old man's face andvoice. "I've imposed on you," he continued, speaking as one who hadsuddenly thrown off a disguise. "If it had been any other man it wouldhave been the same. I want help. I want an honest man. I want a man whomI can trust. I will give you a thousand dollars if you will take apackage back to your vessel with you and will promise to deliver it asquickly as you can."

  "I'll do it!" cried Captain Plum. He jumped to his feet and held out hishand. But the old man slipped from his chair and darted swiftly out intothe blackness of the adjoining room. As he came back Captain Plum couldhear his insane chuckling.

  "Business--business--business--" he gurgled. "Eh, Captain Plum? Did youever take an oath?" He tossed a book on the table. It was the Bible.

  Captain Plum understood. He reached for the book and held it under hisleft hand. His right he lifted above his head, while a smile playedabout his lips.

  "I suppose you want to place me under oath to deliver that package," hesaid.

  The old man nodded. His eyes gleamed with a feverish glare. A suddenhectic flush had gathered in his death-like cheeks. He trembled. Hisvoice rose barely above a whisper.

  "Repeat," he commanded. "I, Captain Nathaniel Plum, do solemnly swearbefore God--"

  A thrilling inspiration shot into Captain Plum's brain.

  "Hold!" he cried. He lowered his hand. With something that was almost asnarl the old man sprang back, his hands clenched. "I will take thisoath upon one other consideration," continued Captain Plum. "I came toBeaver Island to see something of the life and something of the peopleof St. James. If you, in turn, will swear to show me as much as you canto-night I will take the oath."

  The old man was beside the table again in an instant.

  "I will show it to you--all--all--" he exclaimed excitedly. "I will showit to you--yes, and swear to it upon the body of Christ!"

  Captain Plum lifted his hand again and word by word repeated the oath.When it was done the other took his place.

  "Your name?" asked Captain Plum.

  A change scarcely perceptible swept over the old man's face.

  "Obadiah Price."

  "But you are a Mormon. You have the Bible there?"

  Again the old man disappeared into the adjoining room. When he returnedhe placed two books side by side and stood them on edge so that he mightclasp both between his bony fingers. One was the Bible, the other theBook of the Mormons. In a cracked, excited voice he repeated thestrenuous oath improvised by Captain Plum.

  "Now," said Captain Plum, distributing the gold pieces among hispockets, "I'll take that package."

  This time the old man was gone for several minutes. When he returned heplaced a small package tightly bound and sealed into his companion'shand.

  "More precious than your life, more priceless than gold," he whisperedtensely, "yet worthless to all but the one to whom it is to bedelivered."

  There were no marks on the package.

  "And who is that?" asked Captain Plum.

  The old man came so close that his breath fell hot upon the young man'scheek. He lifted a hand as though to ward sound from the very walls thatclosed them in.

  "Franklin Pierce, President of the United States of America!"