II.
_CAUGHT ON THE BAR._
Dave Fletcher and Dick Pray were boys who had grown up in the same town,but from the same soil had come two very different productions. Theywere unlike in their personal appearance. Dick Pray would come down thestreet throwing his head to right and left, scattering sharp, eagerglances from his restless black eyes, and swinging his hands.
"Somebody is coming," people would be very likely to say.
Dave Fletcher had a quiet, unobtrusive, straight-forward way of walking.Dick was quite a handsome youth; but the person that Dave Fletcher sawin the glass was ordinary in feature, with pleasant, honest eyes ofblue, and hair--was it brown or black?
Dave sometimes wished it were browner or blacker, and not "ago-between," as he had told his mother.
Dave and Dick were not as yet trying to make their own way; but theywere between fifteen and sixteen, and knew that they must soon bestirring for themselves.
They had already begun to intimate how they would stir in after life.
Dave had a quiet, resolute way. There was no pretence or bluster in hismethods. In a modest but manly fashion he went ahead and did the thingwhile Dick was talking about it, and perhaps magnifying its difficulty,that inferentially his courage and pluck in attempting it might bemagnified. Dick's way of strutting down-street illustrated his methodsand manners. There was a great deal of bluster in him. Nobody was moredaring than he in his purposes, but for the quiet doing of the thingthat Dick dared, Dave was the boy. Somehow Dick had received the ideathat the world is to be carried by a display of strength rather than itsactual use; that men must be impressed by brag and noise. Thusoverpowered by a sensational manifestation they would be plastic to yourhands, whatever you might wish to mould them into. Dick did nothesitate to attack any fort, scale any mountain, or cross any sea--withhis tongue. When it came to the using of some other kind of motivepower--legs for instance--he might be readily outstripped by another.Among the boys at Shipton he had made quite a stir at first. Hisbluster and brag made a sensation, until the boys began to find out thatit was often wind and not substance in Dick's bragging; and they werenow estimating him at his true value. Dave Fletcher was little known toany of them save small Bartholomew Trafton; but Dave's modest, efficientstyle of action they had seen in the saving of Little Mew, and they weredestined to witness it in another impending catastrophe.
"Uncle Ferguson, who owns that old schooner off in the river?" askedDave one day, as he was eating his way through a generous pile of AuntNancy's fritters. It was the craft to which had been tied the _GreatEmperor_.
"Why, David?"
"Because some of us boys want to go there and stay a night or two. Wetake our provisions with us, and each one a couple of blankets, and soon, and we can be as comfortable on the schooner as can be. Would youand Aunt Nancy mind if we went?"
"Mind if you went? No; I don't know as I do.--What do you say, Nancy?"
Uncle Ferguson was a middle-aged man, with ruddy complexion and two blueeyes that almost shut and then twinkled like stars when he looked atyou.
Aunt Nancy was a plain, sober woman, with sharp, thin features, andbleached eyes of blue.
"Don't know as I mind," declared Aunt Nancy. "If you don't git into thewater and drown, you know."
"Oh, that's all right," said the nephew.
"Only you must see the owner of the schooner," advised the uncle.
"The owner?"
"Yes; Squire Sylvester. He is very particular about anything he owns."
"Oh, I didn't know the thing had an owner," said Dave, laughing. "Itseems to lie there in the stream doing nothing. The boys didn't sayanything about an owner."
"Squire Sylvester is very particular," asserted Uncle Ferguson. "He gothis property hard, and looks after it."
"Yes, he is very pertickerler," added Aunt Nancy.
"Well, we will see him by all means. We boys--"
"Didn't think; that is it, David. Now, when I was a boy we always askedabout things," said Uncle Ferguson.
"Well, husband, boys is boys, in them days and these days. I rememberyour mother used to say her five boys used to cut up and--"
"Well," replied Uncle Ferguson, rising from the table, "this won't feedthe cows; and I must be a-goin'. I would see Sylvester, David."
"All right, uncle."
Dave announced his intention to Dick half-an-hour later.
"Well, go, if you want to. We fellows were not going to say anything toanybody. Who would be the wiser? The thing lies in the river, knockingaround in the tide, and seems to say, 'Come and use me, anybody thatwants to.'"
"If we owned the schooner we would prefer to have it asked for, if shewas going to be turned into a boarding-house for a day or two."
"I suppose it would be safer to ask. If we didn't ask, and the ownershould come down the river sailing and see us, wouldn't there be music?"
"We will save the music, Dick. I will just ask him."
As Dave neared Squire Sylvester's office he could see that individualthrough the window. He was a man about fifty years old, his featuresexpressing much force of character, his sharp brown eyes looking veryintently at any one with whom he might be conversing. Dave hesitated atthe door a moment, and then summoning courage he lifted the latch of theoffice door and entered.
"Good-day, sir."
The squire nodded his head abruptly and then sharply eyed the boy beforehim.
"We boys, sir--"
"Who are you?" asked the squire curtly.
"David Fletcher. I am visiting at my uncle's, Ferguson Berry."
"Humph! Yes, I know him."
"We boys, sir, wanted to know if you would let us--"
"What boys?"
"Oh, Jimmy Davis, John Richards--"
"I know those."
"Dick Pray---"
"Pray?"
"He is visiting his cousin, Samuel Whittles."
"Oh yes; I've seen him in the post-office. Curly-haired boy; struts asif he owned all Shipton."
"Just so."
"Well?"
"John Richards's brother--that is all. We want to know if you will letus stay out in the old schooner for a while. We will try to beparticular and not harm the vessel."
"How long shall you want to be gone?"
"Oh, two or three days and nights."
"Humph! Well, you can't have any fire on board. Got a boat?"
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, for you can't wade out to her. Put it out there on purposeso folks couldn't paddle and wade out to her, such as tramps, you know.Well, if you have a boat you can cook on shore."
"Yes, sir."
"You may have a lantern at night. No objection to that."
"We will remember."
"All right, then."
"Oh, thank you! Good-day, sir."
"Good-day."
The squire's sharp brown eyes followed Dave as he went out of the door,and then watched him as he tripped down the street laughing andwhistling.
"Like all young chaps--full of fun. Rather like that boy."
Dave announced the result of the conference to several boys anxiouslywaiting for him round the corner.
"Got it?" asked Dick Pray.
"Yes; tell us what he said," inquired Dab Richards.
The boys pressed eagerly up to Dave, who announced the successful issueof his application. A burden of painful anxiety dropped from each pairof shoulders, and the boys separated to collect their "traps," promisingto meet at Long Wharf, where a boat awaited them. Did ever any craftmake a happier, more successful voyage, when the boat received its loadtwo hours later and was then pushed off?
"Everything splendid, boys!" said Dick. "Won't we have a time while weare gone, and won't we come back in triumph?"
The return! How little any of the party anticipated the kind of returnthat would end their adventure!
"There's the schooner!" shouted Dave.
"I can read her name on thestern--_RELENTLESS_. Letters somewhat dim."
"She is anchored good," said Dab Richards. "Got her cable out."
"Anchor at the bottom of it, I suppose," conjectured Jimmy Davis.
"We will find out, boys, won't we? We will just hoist her a bit, as thesailors say, and see what she carries," said Dick, in a low tone.
"Nonsense!" said Dave. "Sylvester has our word for good behaviour."
"Oh, don't you worry!" said Dick, in a jesting tone. "Let's see! Shallwe make our boat fast round there? Where shall it be?"
The best mooring was found for the boat, and then a ladder with hooks onone end was attached to the vessel's rail, and up sprang the boyseagerly.
The _Relentless_ was an old fishing-schooner. She had been stripped ofher canvas, and portions of her rigging had been removed. There werethe masts, though, still to suggest those trips to distantfishing-grounds, when the winds had filled the canvas and sent the_Relentless_ like an arrow shot from one curving billow to another.There was the galley, empty now of its stove, and showing to anyinvestigator only a rusty pan in one corner; but the wind humming roundits bit of rusty funnel told a story of many a savoury dish cooked for ahardy, hungry crew. And the little cabin, so still now, save when ahungry rat softly scampered across its floor, had been a good corner ofretreat to many when heavy seas wet the deck on stormy nights and sentthe spray flying up into the rigging.
The boys transferred their cargo of bedding and eatables to the deck,and then scattered to ramble through the cabin or descend into the dark,musty hold. They came together again, and lugged their baggage into thecabin, save the dishes and eatables, which were stowed away on shelves.
"This is just splendid, Dick!" declared Dave, leaning over the vessel'srail. "It is going to sea without having the fuss of it."
"That's so, Dave. You don't have any sea-sickness, any blistering yourhands with handling ropes, any taking in sail--"
"Oh, it's huge, Dick. Now you want to divide up the work."
"Not going to have any; all going to have a good time."
"But who's going to cook, and bring water, and--"
"Oh, I see! Forgot that."
A division of work was finally pronounced sensible. Dave became "cook,"Jimmy Davis was elected "water-boy," Dick took charge of the sleepingarrangements, and the brothers Richards were constituted table-waitersand dish-washers--"without pay," Dave prudently added. All that day, upto twilight, life in the old fishing-schooner was smooth and happy asthe music of a marriage-bell. Dave's cooking was adjudged "splendid,"and between meals there were spells of story-telling, of games likehide-and-seek about the ancient hull, and of fishing from the deck,though there sometimes seemed to be more fishermen than fish.
At twilight most of the boys were seated in the stern of the vessel,looking out to sea and watching the light fade out of the heavens andthe warm sunset glow steal away from the waters.
"There's the light starting up in the lighthouse near the bar," said DabRichards.
Yes, Toby Tolman, keeper of the light at the harbour's mouth, and notfar from a dangerous bar, ever changing and yet never going, had kindleda star in the tall lantern as the western clouds dropped their gayextinguisher on the sun's dwindling candle. Between the boys and theoutside, dusky surface of ocean water stretched a line of whitest foam,where the waves broke on the bar.
"Getting chilly," said Dave. "Hadn't we better go into the cabin andlight our lantern?"
"Guess Dick is looking after that," said Jimmy.
No; Dick was looking after--meddling, rather, with something else. Hehad whispered to John Richards, "Come here, John," and then led him tothe bow of the vessel.
"See here, Johnny."
"What is it, Dick?"
"Wouldn't it be nice to see this old ark move?"
"Move! what for?"
"Oh, I've got tired of seeing it in one place."
"Why, what do you mean? How?"
"Why, just have it go on a little voyage, you know."
"Voyage?"
"You booby, can't you understand?"
"Understand? No," replied John good-naturedly. "Don't see how we canhave a voyage without sails, and the masts are bare as bean-poles whenthere ain't any beans on 'em."
"Oh, you're thick-headed. Don't you see this anchor?"
"Don't see any. I suppose there is one somewhere--covered up, you know,down on the bed of the river."
"Only water covers it, and it could be raised, and we could have a sailwithout any sails."
"Come on!" said John, who was the very boy for any kind of an adventure."But," he prudently added, "how could we stop?"
"Drop the anchor again. Why, we could stop any time."
"So we could."
"We could sail, say a hundred feet to-night--tide would drift usdown--and then we could drop anchor; and to-morrow, when the tide ran upriver, we could sail back again and drop anchor, just where we werebefore."
"We could keep a-going, couldn't we, Dickie?"
"Certainly. I don't know but we could go quarter of a mile and thenback again. We should have, of course, to go with the tide; but theanchor would regulate us."
"So we could. Just the thing. Let's try it. Shall I tell the fellers?"
"No; let's surprise 'em."
"But they'll hear us."
"No; they are quarrelling about something, and they won't noticeanything we do here."
"But how can you manage the anchor?"
"Raise it."
"But how raise it?"
"Johnny, I believe you have lost your mind since coming here. What isthis I have got my hand on?"
"The capstan."
Dick here laid his hand on a battered old capstan, around which how manyhardy seamen had tramped singing "Reuben Ranzo" or some other roaringsong of the sea.
"Don't you know how this works?"
"Not exactly."
"I will tell you. You see this bar?"
Dick with his foot kicked a battered but stout bar lying at the foot ofthe capstan.
"There! one end of the cable to which the anchor is hitched goes roundthis capstan, you see. Now, if I stick this bar into that hole in thecapstan and shove her round--I mean the bar--the capstan will go roundtoo, and that will wind up that cable and draw on the anchor. Don't yousee?"
"Yes, I see."
"Well, now we are ready. I will sing something like real sailors."
"The boys will hear us."
"No: they are fighting away; they won't notice."
It was a tongue-fight, but that may be as absorbing as a fist-fight.
"You know 'Reuben Ranzo'?"
"Yes."
"Well, sing in a whisper and pull."
The bar was inserted into the capstan, and the boys, as they shoved onthe bar, sang softly,--
"O poor Reuben Ranzo! Ranzo, boys, Ranzo!"
"That's the chorus, Johnny. Sing the other part. Shove hard but singeasy."
"Oh, Reuben was no sailor. _Chorus_--O poor Reuben Ranzo! Ranzo, boys, Ranzo! O poor Reuben Ranzo! Ranzo, boys, Ranzo!"
"Sing another verse, Johnny. That shove just took up the slack-line,and the next will pull on the anchor. Hun-now, Johnny! You're a realgood sailor. Sing easy, but shove."
"He shipped on board of a whaler. _Chorus_--O poor Reuben Ranzo! Ranzo, boys, Ranzo! O poor Reuben Ranzo! Ranzo, boys, Ranzo!"
The last tug at the bar came hard, but the boys took it as anencouraging sign that the anchor too was coming. They were notmistaken. Another minute, and Johnny eagerly exclaimed,--
"Dick, I do believe she's going!"
"Good! That's so. I knew 'Reuben Ranzo' would bring her."
Yes, the _Relentless_ had relented before the fascinating persuasion of"Reuben Ranzo," and without a murmur of resistance was softly slippingthrough the dark sea water.
"Can you stop her any time, Dick?" asked Johnny in tones a bit alarmed.
"Eas
y. Just let the anchor slip back again, you know."
"Shan't we tell the boys?"
"Wait a moment. We want to surprise 'em. They'll find it out prettysoon."
The boys at the stern had been discussing a subject so eagerly thatevery one had lost his temper, and when that is lost it may not be foundagain in a moment. It was like starting the _Relentless_--a thing quiteeasily done; but as for stopping her--however, I will not anticipate.The boys were quarrelling about a light on shore, and wondering why thatillumination was started so early, when it did not seem dark enough fora home light. In the course of the discussion a second light, not farfrom the first, came into view. Over this the controversy waxed hotterthan ever, and led to much being said of which all felt heartilyashamed.
No one heard the creak of the capstan-bar at the bow or the devotedwooing of the _Relentless_ by the fascinating "Reuben Ranzo."
"That's funny," said Dave, after a while. "One of those lights hasgone. They have been approaching one another, I have noticed. Lookhere, fellers: I believe this old elephant is moving!"
"She is," exclaimed Jimmy Davis.
They all turned and looked toward the bow. The figures there weregrowing dim in the thickening twilight, but they could see Dick andJohnny waving their hats, and of course they could plainly hear themshout, "Hurrah! hurrah!"
"What's the matter?" cried Dave, rushing across the deck.
"Having a sail," said Dick.
"And without a sail too," cried Johnny triumphantly.
"What do you mean?" asked Dab.
"Why, we just hoisted the anchor, and the tide is taking us along,"replied Dick. The party at the stern did not know how to take thisannouncement.
"But," said Dave, advancing toward the capstan, and remembering hispromise to Squire Sylvester that he would be "particular," "we areadrift, man!"
"Oh, we can stop any time--just drop the anchor--and the next tide willdrift us back where we were before."
"Y-e-s," said Dave, but reluctantly, "if we don't get in water too deepfor our anchor. I like fun, Dick, but--"
"Oh, well," replied Dick angrily, "we will stop her now if you think weneed to be so fussy.--Just let her go, Johnny."
Johnny, however, did not understand how to "let her go." It seemed tohim and the others as if "she" were already going.
"Oh, well, I can show you, if you all are ignorant," said Dickconfidently. "Just shove on this bar--help, won't you?--and then knockup that ratchet that keeps the capstan from slipping back--there!"
The weight of the anchor now drew on the capstan, and round it spun,creaking and groaning, liberating all the cable that had been wound uponit; but when every inch of cable had been paid out, what then?
"There! The anchor must be on bottom, and she holds!" shouted Dick intriumph.
"No--she--don't," replied Dab. "We are in deep water, and adrift."
"Can't be," asserted Dick. "All that cable paid out!"
Dick leaned over the vessel's rail and tried to pierce the shadows onthe water and see if he could detect any movement."Don't--see--anything that looks like moving, boys. Surely the anchorholds her," he said, in a very subdued way.
"Dick, see that rock on the shore?" asked Dave.
A ledge, big, shadowy, could be made out.
"Now, boys, keep your eyes on that two or three minutes and see if westay abreast of it," was Dave's proposed test.
Five pairs of eyes were strained, watching the ledge; but if there hadbeen five hundred, they would not have seen any proof that the vesselwas stationary.
The ledge was stationary, but the _Relentless_--
"Well," said Dick, scratching his head, "I don't think we need worry.We--we--"
"Can drift," said Dab scornfully.
"It is of no use to cry over spilled milk," said Dave, in a tone meantto assure others. "Let's make the best of it, now it's done, and getsome fun out of it if we can. All aboard for--Patagonia!"
"Good for you," whispered Dick. "The others are chicken-hearted. Weshall come out of it all right; though I wish the schooner's rudderworked, and we might steer her."
The rudder was damaged and would not work.
"Say, boys, we might tow her into shallow water!" suggested Dave. "Comeon, come on! Let's have some fun. And see--there's the moon!"
Yes, there was a moon rising above the eastern waters, shooting a long,tremulous arrow of light across the sea. The boys' spirits rose withthe moon, and as the light strengthened, their surroundings--theharbour, the lighthouse near the bar, the shores on either hand--werenot so indistinct.
"Not so bad," said Dick in a low tone to Dab. "There's our boat, youknow. We can get into that and let this old wreck go. We can getashore. We will have a lot of fun out of this."
The situation was delightful, as Dick continued to paint itsattractions. They could have a "lot of fun" out of the schooner, and atthe same time abandon the source of it when that failed them. Davetalked differently.
"Come, boys, we must try to get the old hulk ashore," he said. "Ibelieve in staying by this piece of property long as we got permissionto use it; but we will make the best of our situation. All hands intothe boat to tow the schooner into shallow water!"
The boys responded with a happy shout, and climbed over the vessel'sside, descending by the ladder that still clung to the rail.
"What have we got to tow with?" asked Jimmy Davis.
"That is a conundrum!" replied Dave. "Didn't think of that!"
"May find something on the deck," suggested Dick.
A hunt was made, but no rope could be found.
"Boys, we have got to tow with the boat's painter; it's all we havegot," said Dave, in a disgusted tone. This rope was about ten feet long.It was attached to the schooner's bow, and how those small arms didstrain on the oars and strive to coax the _Relentless_ into shoal water!
"Give us a sailor's song, Dick," said Jimmy Davis.
"I will, boys, when I get my breath," replied Dick, puffing after hislate efforts and wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'll start 'ReubenRanzo.'"
The boys sang with a will, and their voices made a fine chorus.
"Reuben" had been able to coax the schooner away from her moorings, buthe could not win her back.
True to her name, she obstinately drifted on.
"Don't you know anything else?" inquired Dave.
"I know 'Haul the Bow-line.'"
"Give us that, Dick."
"I'll start you on the words, boys,--
'Haul the bow-line, Kitty is my darling; Haul the bow-line, the bow-line haul.'
Sing and pull, boys."
The boys sang and the boys pulled, and there was a fierce straining onthat bow-line; but no soft words about "Kitty" had any effect on the_Relentless_. It seemed as if this obdurate creature were moved by anugly jealousy of "Kitty," and drifted on and on.
"It's of no use!" declared Dick. "I move we untie our rope and goashore and let the old thing go. We have done what we could to getashore."
He did not say that he had done what he could to get the _Relentless_adrift, and had fully succeeded. Dave did not twit him with the fact,but he was not ready to abandon the schooner.
Some of the boys murmured regrets about their "things." They did notwant to forsake these.
"Well, boys," said Dick, with a boastful air, "I'll get you out of thescrape somehow. We might go on deck again, and hold a council of warand talk the situation over."
Any change was welcomed, and the boys scrambled on deck again. Dick wasthe last of the climbing column.
"Hand that painter up here and I'll make it fast," said Dave. "Thencome up and we will talk matters over."
"Oh!" said Dick, who was half-way up the ladder, "I forgot to bring thatrope up."
He descended the ladder and reached out his foot to touch the boat, buthe could not find it! When he had left the boat, a minute ago, he gaveit unintentionally a parting kick, and--and--alas! The boat was now toofar from the
schooner's side to be reached by Dick's foot.
"Get something!" he gasped. "Bring a--pole--and--get that boat!"
The boys scattered in every direction to find a--they did not know what,that in some way they might reach after and capture that escaping boat.Their excitement was intense but fruitless. There were now two vesselsadrift--a schooner and a dory--serenely floating in the still but strongcurrent, steadily moving seaward, and the moonlight that had beenwelcomed only revealed to them more plainly the mortifying situation ofthe party.
"Ridiculous!" exclaimed Dick.
Most of the boys looked very sober. Dave put his hands in his pocketsand whistled.
"Well, boys, don't you worry! I'll get you out of this in good fashionyet," cried Dick. "We can't go far to sea, and then the tide will bringus back again in the morning."
"Far to sea!" said Dab mockingly. "There's the lighthouse on the left,and it looks to me as if we should hit the bar!"
The bar! The boys started. At the mouth of the river the sand broughtdown from the yielding shores would accumulate, and it formed a barwhose size and shape would annually change, but the obstacle itselfnever disappeared. There it stretched in the navigator's way, seriouslynarrowing the channel; and of how many catastrophes that "bar" had beenthe occasion! The breakers above were soft and white, and the sandbelow was yielding and crumbling; and yet just there how many vesselshad been tripped up by that foot of sand thrust out into the harbour!The boys laughed and tried to be jolly, but no one liked the situation.It was a very picturesque scene,--the moonlight silvering the sea, thecalmly-moving schooner and boat, that lighthouse like a tall, statelycandlestick lifting its quiet light; but, for all that, there was thebar! Either the night-wind was growing very chilly, or the boysshivered for another reason.
"Don't worry, fellows," said Dick, putting as much courage as possibleinto his voice. "When this old thing hits, you see, we shan't driftright on to the bar, but our anchor will catch somewhere on this side.That will hold us. I can swim, and I'll just drop into the sea and makefor the light and get Toby Tolman's boat, and come and bring you off."
He then proceeded to hum "Reuben Ranzo;" but nobody liked to sing it,and Dick executed a solo for this unappreciative audience.
"How--how deep is the water inside the bar?" said chattering JimmyDavis. He felt the cold night-air, and he shook as if he had an aguefit.
"Pretty deep," solemnly remarked Dab Richards.
The musical hum by the famous soloist, Dick Pray, ceased; only thebreakers on the bar made their music.
Dick began to doubt seriously the advisability of dropping into thatdeep gulf reputed to be inside the bar. It was now not very far to thelighthouse, and the surf on the bar whitened in the moonlight and fellin a hushed, drowsy monotone. People by the shore may be hushed by thislullaby of the ocean, but to those boys there was nothing drowsy in itssound; it was very startling.
"I--I--I--" said Jimmy.
"What is it, Jimmy?" asked Dave.
Jimmy did feel like wishing aloud that he could be at home, but heconcluded to say nothing about it. Steadily did the _Relentless_ drifttoward that snow-line in the dark sea.
"Almost there!" cried Dave.
"May strike any moment!" shouted Dab.
Yes, nearer, nearer, nearer, came the _Relentless_ to that foaming bar.The boat had already arrived there, and Dave saw it resting quietly onits sandy bed. Did he notice a glistening strip of sand beyond thesurf? He had heard some one in Shipton say that at very low tide therewas no water on portions of the bar. This fact set him to thinkingabout his possible action. It now seemed to him as if the distancebetween the stern of the vessel and the bar could not be more than ahundred feet. The bow of the vessel pointed up river. She was going"stern on." How would it strike--forcibly, easily?
"Nearer and nearer came the '_Relentless_' to thatfoaming bar." _Page 43_]]
"Ninety feet now!" thought Dave. "Will the shock upset her, pitch usout, or what?"
Sixty feet now!
"The bar looks sort of ugly!" remarked Johnny Richards.
Thirty feet now!
"Wish I was in bed!" thought Jimmy Davis.
Twenty feet now!
Had the schooner halted? The boys clustered in the bow and lookedanxiously over to the bar.
"Boys, she holds, I do believe," said Dave.
"All right!" shouted Dick--"all right! The anchor holds!"
It did seem an innocent, all-right situation: just the quiet sea, themusically-rolling surf along the bar, the stately lighthouse at theleft, and that schooner quietly halting in the harbour.
"Now, boys," exclaimed Dick, "we can--"
"I thought you were going to swim to the lighthouse?" observed Dab.
"Oh, that won't be necessary now," replied Dick. "We are just masters ofthe situation. The moment the tide turns we can weigh anchor and driftback again just as easy! Be in our old quarters by morning, and nobodyknow the difference. Old Sylvester himself might come down the river,and he would find everything all right. Ha! ha!"
Dick's confidence was contagious, and when he proposed "Haul theBow-line," his companions sang with him, and sang with a will. How thenotes echoed over the sea! Such a queer place to be singing in!
"Mr. Toby Tolman," said Dick, facing the lighthouse, "we propose to wakeyou up! Let him have a rouser. Give him 'Reuben Ranzo!'"
While they were administering a "rouser" to Mr. Toby Tolman, somebody atthe stern was dropping into the sea. He had stripped himself for hisswim, and now struck out boldly for the bar. Reaching its uncoveredsands he ran along to the boat, lying on the channel side of the bar andnot that of the lighthouse, leaped into the boat, and, shoving off,rowed round to the bow of the schooner. There was a pause in thesinging, and Dick Pray was saying, "This place makes you think ofmermen," when Dab Richards, looking over the vessel's side, said, "Ugh!if there isn't one now!"
"Where--where?" asked Johnny.
"Ship ahoy!" shouted Dave from the boat. "How many days out? Where youbound? Short of provisions?"
"Three cheers for this shipwrecked mariner just arrived!" cried Dab.And the hurrahs went up triumphantly in the moonlight. Dave threw up tothe boys the much-desired painter, and the runaway boat was securelyfastened.
"There, Dave!" said Dick, as he welcomed on deck the merman: "I was justgoing after that thing myself, just thinking of jumping into the water,but you got ahead of me. Somehow, I hate to leave this old craft."
"I expect," said Dab Richards, a boy with short, stubby black hair andblue eyes, and lips that easily twisted in scorn, "we shall have suchhard work to get Dick away from this concern that we shall have to bringa police-officer, arrest, and lug him off that way."
"Shouldn't wonder," replied Dick. "Couldn't be persuaded to abandonthis dear old tub."
"Well, boys, I'm going to the lighthouse as soon as I'm dressed," saidDave.
There was a hubbub of inquiries and comments.
"What for?" asked Dick. "Ain't we all right?"
"I hope so; but I want to keep all right. I want to ask thelight-keeper--"
"But all we have got to do is to pull up anchor when the tide comes, anddrift back."
"Oh yes; we can drift back, but where? We can't steer the schooner. Wedon't know what currents may lay hold of her and take her where we don'twant to go. There are some rocks with an ugly name."
"'Sharks' Fins!'" said Jimmy. "Booh!"
"What if we ran on to them?" said Dave. "We had better go and ask TobyTolman's opinion. He may suggest something--tell us of some good way toget out of this scrape. He knows the harbour, the currents, the tides,and so on. Any way, it won't do any harm to speak to him. I won'tbother anybody to go with me. Stay here and make yourselvescomfortable; I will dress and shove off."
When Dave had dressed and returned, he found every boy in the boat.Dick Pray was the first that had entered.
"Hullo!" shouted Dave. "All here, are you? That's good. The mo
re themerrier."
"Dave, we loved you so much we couldn't leave you," asserted Dick.
"We will have a good time," said Dave. "All ready! Shove off! Boundfor the lighthouse!"
The old schooner was left to its own reflections in the sober moonlight,and the boat slowly crept over the quiet waters to the tall lighthousetower.