Escape Into the Night (4 page)

For the second time in an hour, Libby looked down her nose. “And who do you think you are that I should listen to you? A cabin boy, no less! Trying to order me around!”

A flush of embarrassment reddened Caleb’s face. But when Libby again tried to look at the knothole, he guarded the way.

“You take a lot of responsibility,” she said.

“When Captain Norstad gives it to me, I take it,” he answered.

Once more the two deckhands lifted the box between them. Walking carefully, they started down the gangplank.

This time Libby managed to slip around Caleb and follow. When the men reached the landing, they shoved the box onto the wagon. Caleb was right behind them.

“Go ahead!” he called to the driver.

As the team of horses started toward the train, the two
men jumped onto the end of the wagon. Libby walked alongside. Again Caleb followed her. “What are you doing, Libby Norstad?” he asked.

Libby pretended that she didn’t hear him. The knothole in the wood no longer showed. That meant it had to be on the bottom side of the box. As Libby moved closer, she listened, but heard no other sound.

Caleb fell into step beside her. “What makes you so snoopy?” he asked.

“I want to know why those men have a box that says THIS SIDE UP resting on its side.”

With a sweep of his hand Caleb pushed his hair out of his eyes. “You sure have a lot of curiosity. Does your father know you left the boat?”

“What does that have to do with the box?” Libby asked.

“We’re putting out in a few minutes. He won’t like it if we leave you behind.”

“You’re just saying that!”

“No, I’m not!”

Gongs from the ship’s bell broke into Caleb’s words. It was a signal for departure, Libby knew. But she couldn’t remember the way the signal worked.

Having no choice but to believe Caleb, Libby stopped. Yet her gaze still followed the wagon and its strange cargo.

“I heard a sound,” she said.

“You did?” Caleb stopped alongside Libby.

“A groan. A man’s groan. I’m sure of it!”

“You are?” Caleb also watched the boxes.

Next to the open door of a freight car the driver stopped the wagon. The deckhands lifted the three boxes one by one
and set them inside the car. When the last box was safely loaded, Caleb turned and started back to the
Christina
.

“There was a knothole,” Libby said as she walked beside him. “Through the knothole I saw something move.”

“That’s odd.” Caleb walked faster now, as if in a hurry to reach the boat. “What could be moving inside a box?”

“I told you!” Libby was growing impatient with him. “There’s a man in the third box!”

“It’s pretty hard to know whether it’s a man if all you saw was a knothole.”

“Caleb Whitney!” Libby stopped, unwilling to go another step. “It isn’t just what I saw. It’s also what I heard. If you had a brain in your head, you’d know that!”

As if ready to answer Libby, Caleb raised his chin. Instead, he glanced beyond her. Libby turned, curious about what he was seeing.

A short distance away, the first mate stood on the deck of the
Christina
. Libby felt sure he had been watching them. Mr. Bates even leaned slightly forward, as if straining to listen. Why did he want to hear what they said?

When Caleb spoke again, he seemed to have forgotten their disagreement. “You better hurry. Your father will wonder where you are.”

This time Libby did not argue. Yet as she hurried up the gangplank, she gave one parting shot. “You are the strangest boy I ever met!”

When Caleb grinned, it surprised Libby.
He acts as if he’s gotten his way
. But Libby didn’t understand why.

In spite of Caleb’s hurry, the
Christina
didn’t leave port
right away. As Libby and Caleb stood at the bow of the boat, he gazed toward the streets of Gulfport. “Your father’s late.”

Turning around, Libby looked up to the pilothouse perched on top of the texas. Even from here, she could see the upper part of the large wheel that steered the steamboat. Behind it stood the pilot, ready to guide the
Christina
out of port.

Libby’s father was also licensed to pilot the boat. As captain and owner of the
Christina
, he spent most of his time taking care of business. Yet passengers liked to see him. When they came on board, his warm welcome gave them confidence in the safety of the boat.

As the bell gonged again, Caleb pointed toward the street. “There he is!”

With long strides Captain Norstad hurried toward the
Christina
. Next to him was something that looked like a great black bear.

Libby’s heart sank. “A dog? A monstrous dog?”

“Your father got a Newfie!” Caleb exclaimed.

“A Newfie?” Libby hadn’t wanted a dog in the first place, and this was the biggest one she had ever seen. “What’s a Newfie?”

“Don’t you know about Newfoundlands?” Caleb asked. “They’re draft dogs.”

“And what is a draft dog?”

“A working dog. For hundreds of years Newfies have pulled carts for their owners.”

“You mean they work in harness like a horse?”

“They use harnesses, but no reins,” Caleb told her. “They’re trained to respond to voice commands.”

Here, too, on this side of the river, mud puddles filled
the street. Captain Norstad stepped around them, but the dog didn’t. While staying at the captain’s side, the dog passed through every puddle, as if he enjoyed getting wet. Then his wet paws padded across the black dirt on the riverbank.

Nearby, steamboats buzzed with activity, but Libby had eyes for only one thing—that terrible dog. She had no doubt as to who would be taking care of it.

Seeing Libby, her father waved to her. “I found just what I wanted for you!”

As though catching the captain’s excitement, the dog broke away. With quick bounds he raced up the gangplank, straight toward Libby. Leaping up, he planted his front paws on her shoulders.

Libby staggered back, almost falling over. She tried to push the dog away.

“Off!” the captain commanded, and the dog dropped to the deck.

But Libby still felt frightened. Then she looked down, and her scared feelings changed to anger. The dog had left great black patches of dirt on her already wet dress.

Sitting on his haunches, the monster stared up at Libby. Except for white patches on his chest and toes, he was completely black. His long tongue reached out, as if to say hello. But Libby wanted nothing to do with the dog.

“What’s his name?” Already Caleb was down on his knees petting the dog.

So it’s a boy, not a girl
, Libby thought.

“Samson,” her father said.

“Samson!” Libby exclaimed. “He’s so big, he looks like
trouble
!”

“He’s not.” Her father’s wide grin told Libby how pleased he felt. “Samson’s a good dog. He just got carried away.”

But Libby shared none of his excitement. “How did you find him so fast?”

“The last time I was in port I met his owners. They’ve taken good care of him. I’m glad Samson was still available.”

Reaching out, the captain scratched behind the dog’s ears. Samson wagged his tail as though the two were already friends.

“Look at his coat!” Caleb stroked the dog’s back. “Nice and shiny, the way it should be. Not a burr in it!”

When he lifted the dog’s great front paw, Caleb found a small stone caught between the webbed toes. As he brushed the stone away, Samson’s tongue reached out to lick Caleb’s face.

“I bought Samson for you, Libby,” the captain said. “I want you to keep him with you.”

Libby remembered her father’s talk with Auntie Vi. “This dog is supposed to be my protector?” It seemed ridiculous after the way he almost knocked her over.

Libby’s father smiled. “God is your real protector, but maybe Samson will help. He’ll be good company for you.”

“Good company!” Libby disliked even the idea. “I don’t want a dog!”

“He can stay in your room.”

“No!” The word exploded from Libby’s lips. “I don’t want this big dog in my little room!”

From his large, square-looking head, Samson gazed up at Libby as though he wanted to be friends. His brown eyes pleaded with her.

For a moment Libby felt sorry for the way she had spoken.
She almost felt drawn to the dog. Then she pushed the idea away. Who wanted a four-legged friend who drooled and slurped all over your face if you got too close?

“Samson’s a rescue dog,” Caleb said quickly. “If a sailor falls into the sea, a Newfie goes after him.”

“Well, there’s no sea around here!”

“There’s a river,” Caleb was quick to point out.

“If you ever fell overboard, he’d rescue you,” her father said.

“He would jump in after me?” For the first time Libby looked at Samson with respect.

The dog seemed to sense the change in Libby. Coming to his feet, he lifted one great paw, as though to say hello.

Looking down, Libby once more saw the dirt on her new dress. The white cloth would never again be the same.

Unable to bear the thought of caring for such a dog, Libby ran for the stairs. Partway up, she glanced back.

Near the bow of the
Christina
, Caleb stood next to Captain Norstad. Talking quietly, both of them looked serious, as though they didn’t want anyone else to hear.

As Libby watched, she again felt curious.
I’d give a lot to know what Caleb is saying!

CHAPTER 4

A
s the deckhands cast the lines, or ropes, on board, Libby watched from the hurricane deck. With one short blast of the whistle, the
Christina
slid into the current.

Far overhead, black smoke billowed from the tall stacks. From the great wheels on both sides of the boat came the slap of paddles against water.

Libby welcomed those sounds. They brought her back to long-ago days when she and her mother stayed on board. As a little girl, Libby had always felt safe and happy whenever she heard the paddlewheels go around.

Now she breathed deep. To Libby the beautiful March day seemed a special welcome aboard. Then she felt something slap against her skirt. Samson stood there, wagging his tail.

Libby’s happiness vanished. “Samson, Samson. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!”