Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: cover]
A VOYAGE WITH CAPTAIN DYNAMITE
[Illustration: Suddenly he half rose in the tossing boat and shouted to
the rowers (_Page 13_)]
A VOYAGE
WITH
CAPTAIN DYNAMITE
BY
CHARLES EDWARD RICH
[Illustration: Publishers mark]
NEW YORK
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY
1907
COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY
A. S. BARNES & COMPANY
All rights reserved
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. CAUGHT IN A GALE 1
II CARRIED AWAY TO SEA 11
III "SHE'S LIKE A WARSHIP BELOW" 24
IV. A LESSON IN PATRIOTISM 37
V. SENDING THE MESSAGE 51
VI. "VIVA, CUBA LIBRE!" 63
VII. IN THE DANGER ZONE 73
VIII. A BRUSH WITH THE GUNBOAT 86
IX. THE MIDNIGHT MESSAGE 99
X. INTO THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY 112
XI. CAPTURED BY SPANIARDS 125
XII. ON TO GOMEZ 139
XIII. HARRY REFUSES TO BETRAY CAPTAIN DYNAMITE 151
XIV. THE SECRET PASSAGE 165
XV. THE EXECUTION AT DAWN 177
XVI. THE ESCAPE 185
XVII. "YOU WILL BE SHOT AS SPIES" 198
XVIII. CAPTAIN DYNAMITE FINDS JUANITA 208
XIX. DRAWING THE NET CLOSER 218
XX. CAPTAIN DYNAMITE TO THE RESCUE 231
XXI. GENERAL SERANO MEETS CAPTAIN DYNAMITE 242
XXII. THE ESCAPE--VILLAMONTE AGAIN BEATEN 254
XXIII. BACK TO THE MARIELLA 266
XXIV. THE ESCAPE FROM THE LAGOON 275
XXV. HOME AGAIN 291
A VOYAGE WITH CAPTAIN DYNAMITE
CHAPTER I
CAUGHT IN A GALE
"Let go the jib halliards, Mason. Lay out there, Bert, and get in that
slack sail. It's blowing a bit. Gee, see that bank of wind coming up."
The little pleasure boat careened and took aboard a few barrels of water
as she faced a sudden puff of wind that almost put her on her beam ends.
But she was a game little craft, and came back from the onslaught of the
elements with a sturdiness that indicated strong timbers, and a build
that was meant to cope with the sudden squalls that come out of a clear
sky off the coast of Martha's Vineyard during the early autumn days.
"She's good for anything that you will get around these parts, and she
is the fastest boat of her length in these waters."
This recommendation by Tom, the veteran skipper of the summer fleet, had
been sufficient to complete the sale of the sloop to three enthusiastic
boys. And the boat had made good her reputation and served her purpose
well. During the two months that the boys had owned her, there had been
few days when she had not been in commission, either cruising for blue
fish, or skimming along the shores of the island in a pleasant, summer
way, lazily passing the days away for the youngsters, who lolled
contentedly on her deck.
Since we shall follow the crew of the yacht through many adventures, let
us make their acquaintance at once. At the helm stood Harry Hamilton, a
boy of sixteen, strong of build and an athlete of renown within the
circles of his school. Honest and straightforward in all his dealings,
and with a cheery disposition, he commanded the respect and admiration
of his fellows, and because of his natural characteristics, was usually
looked upon as the leader in their sports. With his parents he was
spending his vacation at their summer home at Cottage City.
With him were two schoolmates, Geoffrey Mason and Bertram Wilson, who
were staying with him. Bertram was about Harry's age. Geoffrey,
nicknamed "Midget" Mason, or the "Midget," was a year younger than his
chums, and although small for his age, was strong and wiry. Light
hearted and fun loving, he was always the life of any gathering of boys.
He was one of Harry Hamilton's staunchest friends and admirers. For
weeks the boys had enjoyed the sailing, bathing, fishing, golf, and
other sports, but their particular diversion was sailing. Under the
instruction of old Tom, the boys were soon able to handle alone the
little boat that they had bought by clubbing together their resources.
"Don't worry, mother, she's as safe as a scow," Harry would say, as he
saw the expression of anxiety spread over his mother's face when he
announced that they were off for a day's cruising.
On this day they had started early in the morning for a blue-fishing
cruise, and all had gone well until the homeward voyage. The cockpit was
full of big fish and the boys took much pleasure in anticipating their
reception when they made fast to the pier. The little sloop was skimming
along under full sail, when just off Edgartown a stiff puff of wind
struck them.
Harry jammed the helm hard down and the boat responded gamely, coming
quickly up into the wind. It was then that he called sharply to Mason to
let go the jib halliards. The sail was so light and the wind slapped it
from side to side with such angry vehemence that it would not run down
on the stay. Harry dropped the helm, and holding it down with the
pressure of his leg, seized the down haul and brought the jib, flapping
and pounding, down to the bowsprit.
"Get out there and furl that jib, Bert," he shouted. "We'll have to reef
down the mainsail soon."
Bert climbed cautiously out of the cockpit and made his way along the
slippery deck until he reached the bowsprit. Clinging to the mainmast,
he steadied himself while he surveyed the thrashing sail, whose folds of
canvas hung over and trailed in the water until, caught every now and
then by the wind, it bellied out like a balloon. A wave bigger than the
rest completely submerged the bowsprit as the boat plunged into the
trough of the sea.
To furl the jib it was necessary to climb out on the lower stay, which
acted as a foot rope, and it required the agility of a cat to hang on
and drag the water-soaked, wind-thrashed sail onto the bowsprit and make
it fast with canvas stops. For a moment Bert hesitated, but Harry waved
to him eagerly to go on. Bert nodded in assent and began to climb
gingerly out onto the stay. Harry held the boat up into the wind to aid
his companion in getting in the wet and flapping sail.
They plunged into wave after wave, carrying Bert almost completely
under, as a bather goes under a comber in the surf. But he hung onto the
light spar with one hand while he dragged in the sail with the other.
When his task was completed and he climbed inboard again, Bert was as
wet as if he had been overboard.
Then came the task of reefing the mainsail, which the boys accomplished
successfully, though not without a hard struggle, for the wind increased
in violence every moment. Holding the boat, which now carried only a few
square yards of canvas, well up into the wind, they pounded along with
the gunwale under the rushing water. She rode a little easier and the
boys settled down for a breathing spell.
"There is nothing to be done now but to let her run," said Harry, as he
gripped the helm hard to meet a sudden plunge into a head sea.
"But we are heading straight out to sea," said Bert, with a tone of
worriment in his voice.
"Can't be helped. This wind has not reached its limit yet, and I would
not dare to try to take her in before it. It might take the mast out of
her."
"It's getting dark, too," said Mason, nervously.
"That can't be helped either."
"Can't you ease her off for the Massachusetts shore?"
"I tell you, Bert, there is nothing to be done with safety but to keep
her right up into the eye of the wind."
"But this blow may last for a day or two."
"Now look here, Bert, you and I have been caught in one or two hard
blows and we have pulled out all right together. If you think you know
more about handling this boat than I do, I will turn the helm over to
you and you can have your own way."
"Skipper," said Bert, with a return of his natural good humor, "I seek
neither the honor nor the responsibility. Keep the helm and sail her on
to whatever port this blooming gale may be heading us for. It looks to
me as if we would make the coast of Ireland for our first stop."
"She is not making as much headway as she appears to be. I have got her
jammed way up into the wind."
The sky was constantly growing darker and the wind seemed each moment to
increase in fury. To add to the discomfort of the situation, it began to
rain. The wind howled and shrieked and lashed the surface of the water
into a white foam, lifting at times the crests from the waves and
hurling the fine spray into the faces of the boys.
Darkness was falling rapidly, and away off in the distance behind them
the lights of Cottage City flashed out as the cottagers began to light
the lamps.
Harry sat silently at the helm, with his eyes fixed on the sail, now and
then changing their course a little as the gusty wind veered a point or
two.
On they plunged into the teeth of the ever increasing gale. Soon
complete darkness shut in around them and it was impossible to see
beyond the bow of the boat, that at times rose high on the crest of a
rushing wave and then swooped down to meet the next with a crash that
sent a shiver through her timbers. But she was a sturdy little craft,
and shaking herself like an animal, she would rise lightly to the top of
the next wave, ready to fight it out to the end.
Mason and Bert perched grimly on the windward rail of the cockpit.
Neither had spoken for a long time.
"Take a turn at the pump, Bert," said Harry, "I think she is taking
water."
Bert started towards the pump, slipped on the fish that filled the
cockpit and pitched head-foremost into the lee scuppers.
"Throw half a dozen of those fish into the cuddy and chuck the rest
overboard," said Harry, who, notwithstanding their serious situation,
could not refrain from laughing at Bert's frantic efforts to regain his
feet among the slippery cargo. "We may need some of them for food before
we get out of this, but the others are in the way."
Mason climbed down from his perch with care and helped to throw the fish
overboard.
"Pretty dangerous situation, skipper," said the imperturbable youngster,
"when we have to sacrifice the cargo. However, over they go."
The little cabin, or cuddy, of the boat was so low that it was with
difficulty that one could crawl into it. On either side the boys had
fitted up small bunks that served for lounging during calm weather, and
in the middle of this space, on the centreboard box, they had arranged a
table on which stood a small oil stove. Here they frequently cooked
their luncheons when cruising.
After the fish were disposed of, Bert manned the pump, and for five
minutes was busy getting the water out of the hold.
"This blow has opened up some of her seams," said Harry, as Bert began
to puff. "We shall have to work to keep the water out of her, boys."
"What about eating?" asked Mason, whose stomach never quailed, even in
the face of danger.
"We'll go without eating for the present, young man, and you may think
yourself very lucky if you get out of this even with an empty stomach."
"O, fudge, I can sneak down into the cuddy and fix up a nice mess of
baked beans that will make your mouth water. There are three cans left.
Besides, if we are going to drown, what's the use of drowning on empty
stomachs?"
"Don't you even put your head in that cuddy, Midget," said Harry,
sharply. "If anything should happen to this boat you would be drowned
like a rat in a trap, in there."
"Pish, pish and tush, tush, what's the use of having a skipper if he is
going to upset his craft? Bert, it is high time the crew mutinied.
What--"
At this moment a big wave struck the bow of the boat and swept her from
stem to stern, filling Mason's open mouth with salt water.
"Skipper," he sputtered, as soon as he could speak, "I confidently
believe you did that on purpose."
"This is not a time for your nonsense, Mason," said Harry, somewhat
sternly.
As he spoke, a fiercer gust of wind, veering a point or two, caught the
sloop amidships, and before Harry could let go the sheet or bring her
closer up, she heeled over to the blast until the water poured in a
torrent into the cockpit. Harry jammed down the helm and let go the
mainsheet and she righted herself, trembled under the strain and plunged
ahead once more into the seas.
It was mere chance that both Bert and Mason were not swept into the sea
by the sudden careening of the boat. As it was, they were thrown into
the cockpit, and when they climbed back in the darkness to their places
on the weather rail, the Midget wore a much more serious expression on
his naturally comical face.
"You are right, Hal," he said, solemnly, "I guess it's no joke after
all."
The rain was now coming down in vicious torrents that beat in the boys'
faces, almost blinding them.
Suddenly in the blackness ahead there flashed a bright, green light like
the eye of some monster of the deep. It appeared to be about as high
above them as the mast head of the sloop. They each saw it at the same
time, and each knew, with a thrill of horror, what it meant.
"Hold fast," shouted Harry, in tones that could just be heard above the
howling of the gale, and at the same time he put the helm hard down.
"She's almost on us."
It was too late. There was a crash and the sound of splintering timbers.
The big steamer cut the little craft in two as cleanly as with a knife.