Aladdin OBrien | Page 8

to note the fog's promise to lift, at the very
moment when the shores began to appear and mark his course as
favorable, at the very moment when the sun struck one end of the log,
an eddy of the current struck the other, and sent the stanch little craft
Good Luck and her captain by a wide curve back up the river. The
backward journey was slow and tortuous, and twice when the Good
Luck turned turtle, submerging Aladdin, he gave himself up for lost;
but amidships of the island, fairly opposite to the spot where he had left
Margaret, the log was again seized by the right current, and the voyage
recommenced. But the same eddy seized them, and back they came,
with only an arm stiffened by cold between Aladdin and death. The
third descent of the river, however, was more propitious. The eddy, it is
true, made a final snatch, but its fingers were weakened and its
murderous intentions thwarted. They passed by the knob of trees at the
narrowing of the river, and swept grandly toward the town. Past the
first shipyard they tore unnoticed, but at the second a shouting arose,
and a boat was slipped overboard and put after them. Strong hands
dragged Aladdin from the water, and, gulp after gulp, water gushed
from his mouth. Then they rowed him quickly to land, and the Good
Luck, having done her duty, went down the river alone. Years after,
could Aladdin have met with that log, he would have recognized it like
the face of a friend, and would have embraced and kissed it, painted it
white to stave off the decay of old age, and set it foremost among his
Lares and Penates.
For the present he was insensible. They put him naked into coarse,
warm horse-blankets, and laid him before the great fire in the
blacksmith's shop across the road from the shipyard. And at the same
time they sent one flying with a horse and buggy to the house of
Hannibal St. John, for Aladdin had not passed into unconsciousness
without partly completing his mission.
"Margaret--is--up--at--" he said, and darkness came.
At the moment when Aladdin came to, the door of the smithy was
darkened by the tremendous figure of Hannibal St. John. Wrapped in
his long black cloak, fastened at the throat by three links of steel chain,

his face glowering and cavernous, the great man strode like a controlled
storm through the awed underlings and stopped rigid at Aladdin's side.
"Can the boy speak?" he said.
To Aladdin, looking up, there was neither pity nor mercy apparent in
the senator's face, and a great fear shook him. Would the wrath
descend?
"Do you know where my daughter is?"
The great rolling voice nearly broke between the "my" and the
"daughter," and the fear left Aladdin.
"Mister St. John," he said, "she's up at one of the islands. We went in a
boat and couldn't get back. If you'll only get a boat and some one to
row, I can take you right to her." Then Aladdin knew that he had not
said all there was to say. "Mister St. John," said Aladdin, "I done it all."
Men ran out of the smithy to prepare a boat.
"Who is this boy?" said St. John.
"It's Aladdin O'Brien, the inventor's boy," said the smith.
"Are you strong enough to go with me, O'Brien?" said the senator.
"Yes, sir; I've got to go," said Aladdin. "I said I'd come back for her."
"Give him some whisky," said St. John, in the voice of Jupiter saying
"Poison him," "and wrap him up warm, and bring him along."
They embarked. Aladdin, cuddled in blankets, was laid in the bow, St.
John, not deigning to sit, stood like a black tree-trunk in the stern, and
amidships were four men to row.
A little distance up the river they met a boat coming down. In the stern
sat Margaret, and at the oars her godlike young friend. Just over the
bow appeared the snout and merry eyes of the spaniel, one of his

delightful ears hanging over on each side.
"I am glad to see you alive," said St. John to Margaret when the boats
were within hailing distance, and to her friend he said, "Since you have
brought her so far, be good enough to bring her the rest of the way."
And to his own rowers he said, "Go back." When the boats came to
land at the shipyard, Margaret's father lifted her out and kissed her once
on each cheek. Of the godlike boy he asked his name, and when he
learned that it was Peter Manners and that his father was Peter Manners,
he almost smiled, and he shook the boy's hand.
"I will