THE DISTRESS SIGNAL
One Sunday morning, a few days later, Toby, dressed for church,
sauntered across the road and, skirting the boat shed, went on down to
the wharf where the _Urnove_ lay snuggled against the spiles. It was a
sparkling-blue morning with a perceptible tinge of autumn in the crisp
air, and from the end of the stone pier he could see quite plainly
the shore for miles to the northward. But he didn’t look abroad very
long, for a sound below caused him to drop his eyes to the boat. In the
stern, leaning over with his gaze seemingly intent on the muddy bottom
of the shallow cove, puffing lazily at his old briar pipe, sat Long Tim.
Long Tim was attired in his Sunday best, which included a very high
collar――which he called a “choker”――and a flaming red tie. Also,
Sunday meant a pair of shiny and extremely tight boots to Long Tim,
boots which, as Toby well knew, squeaked remonstrance all the way down
the church aisle. Long Tim was so intent on his task of apparently
studying the water that he had no knowledge of Toby’s presence until a
chip struck lightly on the brim of his carefully brushed, but ancient
derby. Then he looked up slowly and winked.
“What are you looking for?” asked Toby.
Long Tim shifted his position, felt solicitously of one boot and
smiled. “Money,” he answered.
“Money? In the water?”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Toby. I calculate it looks funny to you, because
you wouldn’t ordinarily expect to find money floating around in this
cove, now would you?”
“I never have,” replied the boy.
“Well, now I have.” Long Tim watched for Toby’s expression of surprise
and then went on with a chuckle. “Yes, sir, ’long about two months ago,
or maybe a little more, I was standin’ just about where you be now, and
I looked down in the water and see something green a-floatin’ round.
Well, sir, it looked mighty like a piece o’ money; paper, o’ course.
Says I, ‘It can’t be an’ so it ain’t, but if it is you might as well
have it as the fishes.’ So I reached me a pole and pulled it out. And
what do you suppose it was?”
“A two-dollar bill,” said Toby rather faintly.
Long Tim nodded. “Ezactly, though I don’t know how you guessed at the
de-nom-ination o’ it. Yes, sir, a nice, new two-dollar bill. Queer,
wa’n’t it? So since then I sometimes comes down and takes a look. If
there’s one two-dollar bill a-floatin’ around this here cove, like
enough there’s another, and like enough some day I’ll find it! Anyway,
it ain’t what you’d call hard work, now, is it?”
To Long Tim’s surprise, Toby burst into laughter. His first impulse to
claim the money for Arnold lasted only a second. It would be a great
pity to spoil Long Tim’s romance for the sake of two dollars! But the
funny side of it struck him forcibly. Neither he nor Arnold had thought
to look for the lost bill. They had both taken it for granted that it
had sunk, whereas, had they reasoned a little, they would have known
that a piece of paper would float until saturated with water. They had
really deserved to lose it!
“I calculate you don’t believe it,” said Long Tim mildly.
“Oh, yes, I do,” answered Toby, conquering his laughter.
“Oh! Then what was you laughin’ at, may I ask?”
“Just――just something I remembered,” chuckled Toby. “I――I hope you find
some more, Tim!”
“Well, I ain’t yet, but there’s no tellin’ when I will. I’m sort of
hopin’ that the next time it’ll be a five or a ten. I calculate there
ain’t no law limitin’ the de-nom-ination of flotsam money!”
When Toby told Arnold about Long Tim’s find, later in the day, Arnold
was as much amused as Toby had been. “Say,” he gasped, “wouldn’t it be
funny to drop a dollar over the side of the wharf some day when he was
looking? Wouldn’t he be surprised?”
“I guess he would,” Tony agreed, “but I guess it would be pretty funny.
When do you want to do it?”
Arnold sobered. “Huh,” he answered, “I guess it wouldn’t be so funny
after all! Dollars are sort of scarce these days.”
The last fortnight of vacation time fairly rushed by. All sorts of
things which they had planned to do and had never done arose to haunt
them, and they made heroic efforts to bring them to pass with but scant
success. Toby’s ferry business, which had begun to dwindle perceptibly,
kept him busy so much of the time that there was little opportunity
for large adventures. The Deerings were to return to the city on the
twelfth of September, about a week before Arnold’s school began, and
that date was drawing perilously near. Already Toby experienced qualms
of loneliness when Arnold was not with him, and he hated to think what
it would be like when the other had actually departed from Greenhaven.
Of course, if all went well they would meet again at Yardley Hall the
last of the month, but there were times when Toby feared that that
radiant dream would never come true. So many things might happen in a
fortnight or three weeks! Suppose that bank where his money was should
be robbed! One was always reading of such things! Frequently Toby
wished he had spurned the slight interest offered by the trust company
and hoarded his wealth in the bottom of the old sea-chest in his room.
Toward the last he feared to look in the newspaper lest he read that
robbers had blown up the safe of the bank or that a dishonest official
had decamped for South America or some such inaccessible place with his
savings!
The two boys managed to see a trifle more than ever of each other
during those last two weeks, and that’s saying a good deal. Arnold
seldom lunched at home, preferring to have dinner at Toby’s, since the
trip back and forth to the Head ate up a lot of time which could be
used to better advantage. Their conversations nowadays dwelt largely
with Yardley Hall School and with the wonderful things they were to do
there. They never tired of those subjects. Generally Phebe shared the
confidences, saying little, but, like Mr. Murphy, speaking to the point
when moved to speech. Once when the two boys, seated on the stone steps
in front of the cottage between ferry trips, had expatiated long and
enthusiastically on the fun that awaited them at Yardley Hall, Phebe
observed wisely:
“You mustn’t forget, Toby, what father said about getting your money’s
worth at school. It will be nice to have such a good time, but you
ought to learn a great deal, I think, because you’re going to pay a
great deal of money, aren’t you?”
“Oh, he’ll learn,” said Arnold carelessly. But Toby was silent a
moment. Then he said soberly: “You’re right, sis. It won’t do to think
too much about play. A fellow ought to get his money’s worth, whatever
he goes into. And I intend to. You wait and see if I don’t, sis.”
“I think you will,” she answered, smiling. “Folks who waste money are
very silly, and you’re not silly, Toby.”
“I’ll see that he doesn’t, Phebe,” Arnold assured her gravely.
“I’m afraid you don’t know much about it,” laughed the girl.
“Arn doesn’t know what a dollar is,” said Toby.
“Oh, don’t I? You throw one down there on the grass and I’ll show you!”
“Well, you don’t know the value of a dollar, then. You’ve always had
all you wanted and――――”
“Oh, that’s so, I suppose,” Arnold granted. “I guess I have wasted
a good deal of perfectly good money on silly things, Toby, but I’m
getting onto myself now. What you say about getting the worth of your
money is just about right. After this I’m going to, too. You keep your
eye on your Uncle Dudley. Some of the fellows at school think it’s
smart to throw money away, but I guess it’s just silly, like Phebe
says. Gee, if I know you much longer I’ll be as wise as――as Solomon――or
Mr. Murphy!”
The _Frolic_ was hauled out one morning and set up on a cradle in the
boat yard and nicely canvassed over for the winter, and that ceremony
somehow seemed to bring the summer to an official close even though
three days still intervened before Arnold’s departure. The _Aydee_ was
to remain in commission until the last, for Arnold couldn’t bear to
give her up. Frequently he sailed across to Johnstown in the knockabout
when Toby made the trip in the launch, but toward the last he
abandoned the yacht and joined his chum in the _Urnove_.
Arnold was to leave for the city on Thursday, and on Tuesday he
attached himself to Toby early in the morning and remained at his side
all the day. It was when they were on their way across to Johnstown at
four o’clock, minus passengers this trip, that he became reminiscent.
“Funny about us, isn’t it, Toby?” he began, smiling across at the other
as the boat dipped and rocked in a choppy sea. It had been cloudy
and squally all day, and within the last half-hour the wind had been
steadily rising. Toby had questioned the advisability of that last trip
but Arnold had laughed at his temerity.
“How do you mean?” asked Toby, leaving the engine and seating himself
beside the other.
“Oh, the way we happened to meet, you know, and all. If I hadn’t gone
over for gasoline that morning just when I did we wouldn’t have had the
row and got acquainted.”
“And lost that money,” added Toby, grinning. “We might have run across
each other some other time, though, I guess.”
Arnold shook his head. “I don’t believe so. I guess it was――was fated!
Well, say, we’ve had a dandy time, haven’t we? And we’re going to have
lots more. Say, honest, Toby, if you weren’t coming to Yardley I’d――I’d
hate like anything to go back!”
“Uh-huh,” responded Toby, glancing away. “So would I. I mean――――”
Arnold laughed. “I know! It’s jolly having a real chum!”
Toby only nodded, but Arnold seemed satisfied, and by actual consent
the subject was abandoned.
Fortunately for them, they had donned the oilskins before starting
across, for the spray was showering in at every dip of the boat’s bow
and things were getting pretty moist. Now and then, as she quartered
the waves, the _Urnove_ playfully put her nose under one and deposited
a good share of it inside. By the time they had covered half the
distance the well was full and the water was splashing up between the
gratings.
“We’ll have to bail her out before we come back,” said Arnold.
“Yes, and I guess we’d better come back pretty quick,” was the reply.
“I don’t like the weather much. This wind’s swinging around into the
southeast and there’ll be quite a sea before long.”
“It won’t bother this little boat,” laughed Arnold. “And I guess we
don’t mind getting wet, do we?”
“I don’t if you don’t. Just the same, I guess we’ll beat it back
without waiting until half-past.”
“There’s a launch over there,” said Arnold, peering under his hand to
keep the spray from his eyes, “that seems to be making hard weather of
it. Look at the way she’s tossing! She’s a big one, too, isn’t she? A
trunk-cabin boat. What’s the signal she’s flying, Toby?”
“I can’t see. Looks to me as though she were anchored. Queer place to
drop her mud-hook, though. Look out for this sea, Arn! It’s coming in!”
It did come in and with a vengeance, and although they ducked their
heads to it it managed to get down their necks and up their sleeves
and left them drenched and laughing. They forgot the cabin cruiser
then and brought the _Urnove’s_ head around a bit and scuttled for
the landing. The wind was whistling loudly by that time and a sullen
wrack of clouds was scudding fast overhead. They made the lee side of
the little landing and found themselves partly out of the wind and in
fairly calm water. They dried their faces as best they could with their
handkerchiefs and then set about bailing the water from the bottom
of the launch. By the time they had finished it was so nearly the
half-hour that Toby felt no hesitancy in starting back. No one was in
sight on the road to the landing and so, starting the engine again and
casting off, they slipped out of their haven and faced the elements
once more. At the worst, as Toby said, there was no danger, but they
could ship a good deal of water and get pretty wet, and since the motor
was exposed the water frequently caused a short-circuit and slowed
down the engine. To obviate those drawbacks, they headed the launch
out so that she took the seas on her port bow, meaning to presently
swing around and run before them. That the latter intention was not
carried out was due to the fact that their first course took them in
the direction of the big cruising launch which they had noticed on the
way over, and that Toby, discerning something queer in the way in which
she tumbled and wallowed about, looked more closely and gave vent to a
grunt of surprise.
“She’s not anchored at all,” he shouted across to Arnold. “She’s
drifting side-on. And――hello!”
“What?” asked the other.
“What do you make of those pennants she’s flying?”
Arnold, crouching at the side wheel, screened his eyes and gazed at the
bits of colored bunting flapping from the little signal mast. “One’s
white and the other’s――the other’s blue-and-white, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s J. But can you see if the white pennant’s got a red disk?”
“I think so. Yes, it has! What’s it mean?”
“C. J.; disabled and need assistance,” answered Toby. “Run over, and
see what’s up. Engine’s broken down, I suspect. There’s some one waving
to us.”
The _Urnove_ turned her length to the seas and, rocking and pitching,
headed for the launch in distress.