Transcriber’s Notes:

The Table of Contents was created by the transcriber and placed in the public domain.

Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.

CONTENTS

Chapter I. The Wreck of the Toy.

Chapter II. The Arrest.

Chapter III. The Girl Witness.

Chapter IV. The Dwellers in “Spook Hall.”

Chapter V. A Bold Resolve.

Chapter VI. The Boy Pilot.

Chapter VII. The Cadet Midshipman.

Chapter VIII. A Rumor Afloat.

Chapter IX. Going Ashore.

Chapter X. Unfathomed.

Chapter XI. The Promise Kept.

Chapter XII. A Plot That Failed.

Chapter XIII. Stumbling Blocks.

Chapter XIV. Facing the Music.

Chapter XV. Boarding the Venture.

Chapter XVI. Under Convoy.

Chapter XVII. Jack Judson’s Memory.

Chapter XVIII. Strangely Met.

Chapter XIX. A Threat.

Chapter XX. The Midshipman.

Chapter XXI. Shaking Hands With the Past.

Chapter XXII. Disciplining a “Captain.”

Chapter XXIII. A Secret Foe.

Chapter XXIV. A Secret Friend.

Chapter XXV. A Clouded Record.

Chapter XXVI. The Telltale Coin.

Chapter XXVII. A Double Accusation.

Chapter XXVIII. The Story Told.

Chapter XXIX. The Alternative.

Chapter XXX. Not Accepted.

Chapter XXXI. A Swimming Match.

Chapter XXXII. The “Water Wizard.”

Chapter XXXIII. “Honors Easy.”

Chapter XXXIV. A Letter from Home.

Chapter XXXV. The Midshipman’s Reverie.

Chapter XXXVI. The First Cruise.

Chapter XXXVII. The Demand.

Chapter XXXVIII. Keeping an Appointment.

Chapter XXXIX. The Tell Tale Paper.

Chapter XL. Three Reports.

Chapter XLI. A Life on the Ocean Wave.

Chapter XLII. “Man Overboard!”

Chapter XLIII. A Debt of Gratitude.

Chapter XLIV. The Pilot Midshipman.

Chapter XLV. Unexpected Visitors.

Chapter XLVI. A Forced Resignation.

Chapter XLVII. A Midnight Expedition.

Chapter XLVIII. Conclusion.

MIDSHIPMAN MERRILL

“The passengers and crew gave the young hero a rousing cheer as he sped away.” (See page 45)

Midshipman Merrill

BY HENRY HARRISON LEWIS

AUTHOR OF “Centre-Board Jim,” “Ensign Merrill,” etc.

PHILADELPHIA DAVID MCKAY, PUBLISHER 610 South Washington Square

Copyright, 1899, By STREET & SMITH

[5]

MIDSHIPMAN MERRILL.

CHAPTER I. THE WRECK OF THE TOY.

“There comes that sea cub of Beacon Cliff, mates, so let us clip his claws.”

“So say I, mates, for he’s too blue blooded to associate with us, if he is only a fisher lad.”

“It’s the living in that old rookery, Cliff Castle, that has turned his head and made him so conceited.”

“No, he’s been high-toned ever since he saved that schooner from being wrecked in Hopeless Haven; but I say let us take him down a peg or two, mates.”

“I’m with you.”

“So am I.”

“Me, too;” and all of a group of five lads joined in with their leader to set upon a youth who was just running for the shore in a trim little surf-skiff with a leg-of-mutton sail.

The scene was at a small seaport upon the rugged, though beautiful coast of Maine, and the lads, a wild lot of reckless spirits, half-sailors, half-landsmen, stood in front of an old-fashioned tavern fronting the water, and from whence they had sighted the surf-skiff running swiftly in toward the wharf, and had recognized its occupant, a lad of sixteen.

[6]

He was neatly dressed in duck pants and a sailor shirt with wide collar, in each corner of which was embroidered an anchor in blue silk.

A blue tarpaulin sat jauntily upon his head, giving him something of a rakish look, and a sash encircled his slender waist.

But in spite of his rather picturesque attire, he had a face of rare manliness for one so young, a face that was bronzed by exposure, strong in character and stamped with resolution and daring beyond his years.

He ran his little skiff in cleverly alongside the wharf, lowered sail, and carefully taking up a toy ship, stepped ashore and started toward the tavern.

The toy was a miniature ship, fully rigged and under sail, an exquisite specimen of workmanship, for from keel to truck there was nothing missing, and every rope and sail, even to a tiny flag, the Stars and Stripes, was in place.

He had nearly reached the group of youths, who had threatened to lower his pride a peg or two, when a seaman met him and called out:

“Ho, lad, who built that craft you have there?”

“I did, sir,” was the modest reply.

“Well, if you did you are a born sailor, that is all, for I never saw a cleaner built craft, or a better rigged one. Are you a deep water sailor, my lad?”

“I have been to sea, sir; but I am only a coaster now.”

“And what are you going to do with that pretty toy?”

“I am going to ask landlord Rich of the tavern to buy it of me, sir.”

“Why do you sell it?”

The lad’s face flushed, and after a moment he said:

“Well, sir, my mother is ill, and I wish to have the[7] doctor go and see her, and sell the ship to get the money to pay him and buy medicines with.”

“Well, lad, in spite of your fancy rig, your heart lies in the right place, I see; but what do you want for the craft?”

“It ought to be worth fifteen dollars, sir.”

“It is worth more, and I wish I had the money to buy it; but if the landlord don’t buy it, I’ll see what I can do.”

“I thank you, sir,” and the lad was going on, when the group of youths, who had heard all that had passed, laughed rudely, while one said: “Let me see your boat, sea cub?”

The lad’s face flushed, but he knew that the speaker was the son of a rich shipping merchant of the town, and was a spendthrift, who might pay him a fancy price for his toy, if he wished to do so, and he, therefore, handed the ship to him without reply.

It was the same youth who had suggested to the others to tease the lad, and looking critically at the ship, he said:

“It looks fairly well to a landsman, but whoever saw such a rig on a ship?”

“And the hull has no shape to it,” said another.

“Just look at the rake of the masts.”

“And the cut of her bow.”

“Whoever saw such a stern on anything but a mudscow.”

“If you do not wish to purchase the boat, Scott Clemmons, give it back to me,” said Mark Merrill, suppressing his anger.

“I’ll buy her, if she can stand a cyclone, sea cub,” said Scott Clemmons insolently.

“Let’s see if she can, Scott,” another said.

“All right, Birney, hold out your arm.”

[8]

The youth addressed held his arms out firmly on a level, and whirling suddenly around, with the boat grasped in both hands, he brought it with full force close to the deck against the outstretched arms of Ben Birney.

The result was the wreck of the toy ship, for the masts were broken, the decks swept clean.

But quickly as the act had been done, the movements of the young sailor were quicker, for once, twice, his blows fell full in the faces of the two destroyers, and they dropped their length upon the pavement.

[9]

CHAPTER II. THE ARREST.

The three youths of the group who had not taken a hand in the destruction of the toy ship had seemed at first to regret their inability to also fret the young sailor; but the moment that the two ringleaders, Scott Clemmons and Ben Birney, had measured their length upon the ground, falling with a force that seemed to knock the breath out of them for a moment, the trio appeared delighted that they had no hand in the breaking of the little miniature ship, and stepped quickly backward out of reach of the dangerous arm of Mark Merrill.

But Scott Clemmons was not one to submit tamely to a blow, and with his face bruised by a severe contact with the fist of the sailor lad, he arose to his feet, and whipping out his knife rushed upon his foe with a bitter oath, and the threat:

“I’ll have your life for that blow, sea cub!”

Mark Merrill had boldly stood his ground, but seeing his danger he quickly stooped, seized the hull of his broken boat, and with a lightning-like movement brought it down upon the head of his assailant with a force that appeared to kill him, so motionless he lay where he fell.

“Come, mates, he has killed Scott Clemmons, so seize him!” shouted Ben Birney, and he sprung toward[10] the lad, followed by the other three who were made bold by their numbers.

The sailor lad stood at bay now, his face pale, but stern and determined, his eyes ablaze, while in his hands he grasped the hull of his now badly-wrecked ship, making it serve as a weapon of defense.

But ere Ben Birney had reached within arm’s length a form suddenly sprung forward, and a ringing voice cried:

“Back, you young cutthroats, for I’ll take a hand in this unequal game.”

The four youths shrank back as though they had run against a stone wall, for the sailor who had addressed Mark Merrill upon landing now confronted them, and more, he held a revolver in his hand, the muzzle covering the group, his finger upon the trigger.

A crowd had now gathered, and among them the village constable, to whom Ben Birney cried:

“Officer Roe, that fisher boy has killed Scott Clemmons—we saw him do it.”

“It isn’t so, officer, for the fellow is not dead, only stunned; and, besides, he attacked this brave lad with a knife, after the young scamps had smashed his boat to pieces. Arrest them, I say,” said the sailor.

Constable Roe was a politician, and owed his place to the influence of the fathers of Scott Clemmons and Ben Birney, so, of course, he saw the situation through the spectacles of self-interest.

The sailor was a stranger in town, and Mark Merrill was but a poor fisher lad, so he said:

“He meant to kill young Master Scott, if he didn’t do it, so I’ll arrest him, and I’ll take you in, too, as I saw you level a loaded pistol at these young men.”

The sailor laughed, and answered:

“You old fool, the weapon was just bought uptown,[11] and there’s no load in it; but trot me off to the lockup if you wish, only let this poor lad go, as he has come for a doctor to see his sick mother.”

“No, I’ll lock you both up, I guess, if the judge has left his court—oh! Master Scott, you have come round, I see,” and the constable turned to Scott Clemmons, who just then arose to his feet, but with his face bleeding, and a dazed look in his eyes.

“He tried to murder me, Roe,” he said deliberately.

“The young scamp lies like a marine, for he tried to do the murdering; but take us to the judge, officer, who, I guess, has got more sense than you have,” and the sailor laughed.

The angry constable grasped an arm of the sailor and the lad, and with a crowd at their heels led them away toward the court, in the rear of which was the jail.

The judge had just finished his last case for the day, but took his seat, willing to hear the case, for he heard several remark that it was nothing but persecution.

The constable made his report, and the sailor told his story just as he had witnessed it, Mark Merrill remaining silent and calm until called upon to testify.

Then he told his version of the affair in an unmoved, dignified manner that impressed all, adding:

“If I am to be punished, your honor, I beg of you to accept my pledge to return, after I have sent a physician to my mother.”

Paying no attention to this remark the judge asked:

“Are there any witnesses in court who are willing to testify in favor of these two prisoners?”

“I am, Judge Miller, if you will accept me as a witness, for I saw and heard all.”

All started as a clear, sweet voice came from the rear[12] of the crowd, and there appeared a young girl of fourteen, her beautiful face crimsoned from the glances turned upon her, but her manner firm and half-defiant.

“Ah! Miss Virgene, it is you, is it? Yes, indeed, I’ll accept your testimony with pleasure,” was the pleasant response of the judge, and the crowd fell aside to allow the pretty maiden to go to the front.

[13]

CHAPTER III. THE GIRL WITNESS.

Virgene Rich was the beauty of the little seaport town of B——, notwithstanding that she had only been a couple of years across the threshold of her “teens.”

She was the daughter of landlord Rich, of the “Anchorage Tavern,” and every one in B—— loved her, especially the lads.

Her most persistent admirer was Scott Clemmons, though he could not boast of having been more favored by her than others.

Now, as he saw her advance as a witness, his face paled and flushed by turns, for what would she, a girl, have to say of a quarrel among men, he wondered.

“Well, Miss Virgene, do you voluntarily appear in this case?” asked the judge, with a kindly smile.

“I do, Judge Miller, because I deem it my duty to do so, for if not I would not make myself appear so forward,” was the low yet distinct response.

“Kiss the Book then, Miss Virgene, and let me hear what you have to say.”

The girl obeyed, and then said in a voice that not one failed to hear:

“I was seated in my room, sir, over the tavern parlor when I saw a surf-skiff running for shore, and noticed it particularly on account of its being so well handled.

“Right beneath stood five young men, whom I see here now. Scott Clemmons recognized the occupant of[14] the skiff, that youth there, whose name I believe is Mark Merrill.

“A plan was at once formed, as they expressed it, to ‘clip the sea cub’s claws,’ and as Master Merrill landed they went toward him.

“He had a toy ship in his hand, and I heard him tell a sailor, this gentleman here, who met him, that he intended to sell it to my father, as he had to get money to send the doctor to his mother, who was very ill.

“Then these five young gentlemen,” and Virgene’s sarcastic reference to them made the five youths wince, “met Master Mark Merrill, and at once began to sneer at his boat, and Scott Clemmons took it from him, asking if it could stand a cyclone.

“Then Scott Clemmons bade Ben Birney hold out his arms, which he did, and turning quickly with the boat at a level, he crushed it into a wreck.”

A murmur ran through the crowd at this, and the accused did not like the look upon the face of the judge as he said:

“Well, Miss Virgene, what else?”

“Why, Master Merrill at once knocked both Scott Clemmons and Ben Birney down, as he ought to have done, Judge Miller,” was the spirited reply of the young girl.

“I agree with you, Miss Virgene—ahem! ahem!” and the judge cut off his own decided unjudicial expression of his private opinion with a loud cough.

Resuming her testimony, Virgene Rich said:

“Scott Clemmons rose quickly, sir, and drawing a knife, rushed upon Master Merrill with a threat to kill him, when he was struck a blow with the hull of the wrecked boat that stunned him.”

“The prisoner, Mark Merrill, struck the blow?”

“Yes, Judge Miller, in self-defense; and the others[15] then, led by Ben Birney, were about to spring upon him, when this gentleman frightened them off with what seems was an unloaded weapon,” and Virgene’s musical laughter was contagious, for many joined in until the judge, checking the broad grin upon his own face, commanded sternly:

“Silence in court!”

The judge was a terror to evil-doers, and was obeyed with alacrity, while Virgene went on to tell the story of the constable’s arrest of the wrong parties.

“Constable Roe, you should not allow self-interest to lead you into error, sir, for the real culprits before me are Scott Clemmons, Ben Birney, et al.

“Miss Virgene, I thank you for your clear testimony of the facts, and discharge the accused, while I order the arrest of these young men, and shall bind them over to keep the peace, while you, Clemmons, must at once pay this youth for his boat, or I shall send you to jail.”

Then, turning to Mark Merrill, Judge Miller asked:

“Are you the lad who saved a schooner from being wrecked in Hopeless Haven some months ago?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am glad to know you, my lad, for you took desperate chances for your own life to save others from death. Ah, Mr. Clemmons, you are here, I suppose, to pay your son’s just debt to this brave youth, and to offer bail for your boy, who can congratulate himself upon his escaping so lightly,” and Judge Miller turned to a fine-looking old gentleman who had entered court, hearing his son had been arrested.

“I am here, your honor, to do what is right,” was the cold response of merchant Clemmons.

“He ought to have fifty dollars for the boat, for it was worth it,” said the sailor bluntly.

[16]

“No, my price was only fifteen dollars, and I would not take that from him were it not for my mother’s being ill,” said Mark Merrill.

The amount was paid by merchant Clemmons, and Mark Merrill hastened from the court room, accompanied by his newly-made friend, Jack Judson, sailor.

[17]

CHAPTER IV. THE DWELLERS IN “SPOOK HALL.”

The youth, accompanied by Jack Judson, the sailor, walked hastily up the main street of the little town, until he came to a fine residence, before which hung a sign bearing the legend:

“DR. STONE’S OFFICE.”

The physician had just returned home, and coming by the court room had heard the story of the affray, and from one who had sided with the sailor lad in the affair.

He heard Mark’s story of his mother’s illness, and at once said he would drive down that evening, and received his fee in advance, which he made exceedingly modest.

With a happy heart the lad then went to a store and made a few purchases, after which he said:

“Now, sir, I must take time to go and thank that pretty young girl for her kindness.”

“Well, I just think so, lad, for she’s one among a thousand,” answered Jack Judson, and the two went to “The Anchorage” and asked to see Miss Virgene Rich.

But that young lady saw them coming, suspected their errand, and ran off to the garret and hid, so they were told that she must have gone out.

“That’s too bad, lad; but you’ll find her in port some time; but, see here, it’s blowing a gale, and you cannot start home now.”

[18]

“Oh, yes, sir; for it would worry my mother more for me not to go.”

“Go by land?”

“It’s a walk of fifteen miles, and only a sail of twelve, while the wind is fair for me.”

“If my craft was not going out in the morning I’d go with you, for you are going to have it rough, lad.”

“I don’t mind that, sir, for my craft is a surf-skiff, and I know how to handle her.”

“I saw that as you came in, my boy; but if you must go I won’t detain you, so good-by, and don’t you forget that Jack Judson is your friend.”

“I’ll remember you, sir, you may be sure,” was the reply, and five minutes after the surf-skiff cast off and started upon her really perilous voyage.

The sailor watched her departure, as many others did, and shook his head ominously, while Virgene Rich, having returned to her room, stood in the window, and her innocent young face wore an anxious look as she saw the little craft driving swiftly into the heavy seas on her dangerous run.

In half an hour the surf-skiff was out of sight to the watchers, and soon after rounded a point of land where it felt the full force of the winds and waves.

But Mark Merrill showed his claim to the title he had won as the boy pilot of the coast, and though the shadows of night fell upon the waters, seemed to instinctively know his way over the tempestuous sea.

At length a light gleamed from a cliff far ahead, and the young sailor said aloud:

“Bless my dear, good mother! she has set the lamp in the south window, sick as she is, to guide me home, and it shows me that I was a trifle off my course.”

On sped the little craft, held firmly to her work until she ran in under the shelter of a lofty overhanging cliff.

[19]

The sail was quickly lowered, the painter made fast, and springing ashore, his arms full of the purchases he had made, Mark Merrill hastened to climb a steep path leading to the cliff above.

Here stood a large stone mansion, dark and gloomy, except in one end, where there was a light, the one which had flashed over the waters as a beacon to guide the brave boy to a haven of safety.

Entering the wing the lad passed into a large room where a woman lay upon a large old-fashioned bed.

Her face was a sad one, and her eyes were sunk with suffering, but she smiled as she beheld her son, who advanced and, bending over, kissed her forehead.