CHAPTER XIII
IN THE GRIP OF A GIANT SHELL
BEFORE Captain Simms would permit the lad to leave him, he had to hearthe story of Steve's experiences. The story was frequently interruptedby grunts of approval on the part of the skipper. The latter was not anemotional man, as was evidenced by his greeting of Rush after the boyhad, as it were, risen from the lake.
Rush's story finished, he asked the captain to tell him all about whathad occurred after the accident.
"It isn't what did occur so much as what's going to happen," answeredthe master gloomily.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I shall lose my license."
"What, and you not to blame? Impossible."
"Yes, but how am I going to prove that I am blameless?"
"The authorities will believe what you say, will they not?"
"They have just as good a right to believe the captain of the otherboat. He will say it was my fault, and perhaps I shall say it was hisfault, and there you are. Both of us will lose out in the end. The otherskipper was saved and I am glad of it. It seems too bad that, after allthese years on the lakes without a blemish on my record, I have to beknocked out at this time. My wife and little girl will be heart-broken."
"Perhaps it will not be so bad as you think, sir. Of course, we are alldeeply grieved over the loss of life. That cannot now be helped. It isour business to find out where the blame is and fix it there, no matterwhom it hits. I know one whom I am pretty sure it will not hit."
Captain Simms squinted at the lad.
"Who?"
"Yourself."
"Rush, you're a fine fellow. I like you," announced the skipper, withsomething approaching enthusiasm in his voice as he stepped forward andgrasped the hands of his deck man in a grip of iron. Steve thought hehad a pretty good grip himself, but his own was as nothing compared withthat of the captain of the "Wanderer."
"I reported the accident from Detroit, and was ordered to proceed todestination if able. I haven't heard anything from headquarters yet. Ishall hear something in the morning, as soon as our arrival here isreported."
"When do we unload?"
"They begin in about an hour."
"Then I must get into some old clothes and get ready for work."
"You need not go on duty to-night, unless you wish to."
"I prefer it. You see, I have been idle for a couple of days and I shallget out of practice," replied the boy, with a good-natured laugh.
"Idle! Humph! After swimming half way across Lake Huron, being drownedinto the bargain, walking almost across the state of Michigan, goingwithout food for twenty-four hours, not to speak of a few other littlethings--then to talk about being idle. Go back and tell the cook to setup the best on the ship. After you have had a good meal you may go towork, if you wish. I suppose you'll not be satisfied unless you do. Goon with you. Tell the first mate I want to see him."
An hour later found Steve in his working clothes. The cranes forunloading were just being moved into place when he reached the deck.These were huge affairs, each provided with a giant scoop that gulped alittle mouthful of some fifty tons of ore every time its iron jaws wereopened.
There was a rattle and a bang as the hatch covers were being ripped offand cast to the far side of the deck; men on the trestles wereshouting, whistles were blowing in the harbor, gasoline launchesconveying ship's officers to and from the other side of the inlet, wereexhausting with vicious explosions. Steve thought he had never seen suchconfusion before, yet he knew full well that there was in reality noconfusion about it. Everything was being worked out in keeping with aperfectly arranged system.
"Rush, you get down in the hold and take charge of the unloading,"ordered the mate.
Steve hurried below. The hold was dimly lighted by an electric light ateither end. He did not know exactly what he was expected to do. Thegreat scoop dived down, swallowed a mouthful of ore and was out with itlike some huge monster, almost before Rush realized what was going on.
"Whew! That's going some!" he exclaimed. "There comes the thing again.Hello, up there!" cried the boy, with hands to mouth. "Hadn't you bettertake out some from the other end so as to unload the boat evenly?"
"Yes, that's what we've got you down there for, to watch things,"shouted a voice from the deck. "You're all right. Keep it up!"
"I don't know whether I am, or not," muttered the boy making his wayover the ore to the stern of the hold. "This strikes me as being adangerous sort of spot."
He watched the huge steel lips of the scoop as it felt about like thelips of a horse gathering the oats from its manger, quickly grabbing upits fifty tons of ore then leaping for the trestle some fifty feetabove, where it dropped its burden into cars waiting to transfer the oreto the furnaces.
Load after load was scooped up. The rattle and the bang of the unloaderwas deafening. It made the Iron Boy's ears ache.
"According to the speed at which we are unloading, now, we should befinished in about four hours," he said. "This is the most wonderfulmechanism I ever saw!"
There came a lull, during which the ship was moved further astern, inorder that the unloader might pick up ore from the forward part of thehold. By the time this had been done, and the huge crane shifted to itsnew position, nearly an hour had been lost.
The boy pondered over this for some time. It seemed to him like anunnecessary loss of time.
"Why, so long as they have one crane at an unloading point, should theynot have more?" he reflected. "This is worth looking into."
He thought he saw where a great improvement could be made, and hedecided to think it over when he had more time. Perhaps he couldsuggest something to the officials that would be of use to them afterall.
Steve and his companion, while working as ordinary seamen, were drawingthe same fine salaries that they had received in the mines. Thereforethe boys felt it was their duty to earn the money being paid to them bydoing something worth while. They were getting three times as much aswas paid to the other men doing similar work.
As Rush was thinking all these things over the lights in the holdsuddenly went out, leaving the place in absolute darkness.
"Lights out!" he shouted.
A rush of air fanned his cheek. He raised a hand to brush away someobject that seemed to be hovering over him. It was as if invisible handswere groping in the dark, feeling for the Iron Boy's face to caress it.Steve instinctively crouched down as low as he could on the ore. Therewas little of it beneath him, the greater part having been removed bythe giant shell of the unloader.
Suddenly with a groan and many creakings the object whose presence hehad dimly felt now closed over him.
"The unloader!" cried Steve. "It's caught me! It's caught me!"