PROMPT WORK, AND A RESCUE.
Fortunately Rob Blake had wonderful presence of mind in a sudden
emergency. Some boys would have been so badly shocked by what was
happening near at hand, that for the time being, they must have been
unable to make any move toward rendering first aid to the afflicted.
No sooner did the leader of the Eagle Patrol see that terrible outburst
of fire than he started his little motor on at full speed, heading
straight toward the imperiled launch.
“Quick! get hold of that fire extinguisher we carry!” he called out to
his companion, who was staring, with open mouth and awe-filled eyes, at
the scene of commotion close by.
“But, Rob, will the fluid put out a gasolene fire?” exclaimed Andy,
though at the same time hastening to throw back the lid of a locker and
snatch out the brass tube which had been lying there for just such a time
of sudden need.
“Yes, that’s one of its best uses,” Rob told him hastily. “It seems to
form a coating over everything it touches that the fire can’t break
through. It kills fire. That’s where it gets its name. Be ready now to
make use of it when we come up as close as I dare go.”
“Both of the men are overboard, Rob!” announced Andy excitedly, “and
hanging on to the side of the boat. Wow! but isn’t she blazing, though? I
can begin to feel the fierce heat even here!”
“Ready to get busy now!” cried the skipper, as he manipulated his engine
in such a way as to reverse the propeller, and bring the _Tramp_ to a
stop close to the blazing launch.
Andy was no coward, and could keep a pretty level head when it came down
to doing things; though often he had to be told what to attempt by
someone more masterful than himself. As soon as Rob shouted to him to
start operations, he worked the fire extinguisher with might and main,
and was considerably astonished to discover that just as Rob had said,
wherever the magical fluid struck, it seemed to dishearten the
conflagration, for the flames immediately died out.
“Whoop! it’s doing the whole business, that’s right, Rob!” cried the
pleased amateur fire-fighter, as he continued to make judicious use of
his apparatus. “Why, I tell you nothing can hold out, Rob, against this
dandy contraption. Look at it do the work, will you? Oh! it’s sure worth
its weight in gold when you need something to save your boat with.”
Indeed, to judge from the magical way in which the threatening fire was
extinguished aboard the old launch, Rob Blake had certainly made no
mistake when he purchased that little fire-fighting contrivance, even
though it did cost him close on ten dollars.
Rob, seeing that all danger of the fire communicating to the _Tramp_ was
now past, slowly started toward the other boat. His intention was to
rescue the two elderly men who were in the water. To tell the truth, Rob
was very much afraid the passenger may have been seriously burned, and
that in his panic he might release his frenzied grip on the gunwale of
the boat.
It turned out otherwise, however, for Scotch grit held good, and Rob soon
had the satisfaction of helping both men aboard the _Tramp_.
They had received a number of burns, and presented rather a peculiar
appearance, since their eyebrows and beards had been badly singed.
“Fire’s all out, Rob!” announced Andy, at this juncture.
“Then fix it so that we can tow the _Sea Gull_ behind us,” the other told
him, “and we’ll change our course for the Collins Point yonder.”
“It is verra kind of ye to go to all that trouble,” remarked the elderly
man, looking the young skipper of the rescuing boat over from head to
toe, “and I wull not be the one to forget the favor, I assure you, my
fine laddie.”
“I hope you are not seriously burned, sir?” remarked Rob, who saw that
there were signs of the other’s clothes having been afire before he
tumbled overboard, possibly urged to this last resort through the
energetic efforts of old Captain Jerry Martin.
“I sincerely hope not myself,” replied the other, as he felt of his body,
and then put up a hand to his blackened face. “I believe I’ve been well
singed, and that until I grow a new crop of eyebrows I will look like a
scorched rat; which is verra unfortunate, since I am on a most important
errand over in your country. But, indeed, I should be ashamed to
complain, for it might have been a deal worse.”
“And how about you, Captain Jerry?” asked Rob, turning to the subdued
looking old skipper of the disabled motorboat, who had once been an
oysterman, though of late years rheumatism had compelled him to seek
another less strenuous means for making a living on the famous bay.
“Nawthin’ to count much, Rob,” grunted Captain Jerry, “but I’m afraid
I’ll jest hev to git a new engine aboard the _Sea Gull_ arter this
accident. I knowed she leaked a mite in the connectin’ feed pipe, but I
never thought anybody would throw a lighted match down _thar_! I’m glad
to be alive still; and I hopes as how the duckin’ ain’t agoin’ to fotch
on my rheumatiz agin.”
“As I’m altogether to blame for the accident, Captain,” said the
passenger, “I shall insist on doing my part toward helping you put in
that new motor. The chances are I will be marooned at my friend’s place
now for weeks, until I’m presentable; though what’s to be done about
getting that valuable shipment out to our exhibit I am unable to say.
Perhaps Judge Collins may be able to help me decide. It’s a verra odd
time to introduce myself, laddies, but I want to know more of ye, and so
permit me to say I am Professor Andrew McEwen, from Edinburgh University,
Scotland.”
“My name is Robert Blake, and my father is connected with the bank at
Hampton. My chum here is of the same name as yourself, professor, Andrew;
but his last name is Bowles. I think his family came originally from
Scotland. We are Boy Scouts, and out for a little cruise just to pass the
time away.”
“Which was a lucky thing for myself, I am sure,” remarked the elderly
gentleman, as he squeezed a hand of each of the young fellows. “And if
you will land me at Judge Collins’ dock, you will increase the
obligations under which you have placed me.”
“We are heading straight that way, sir,” Rob told him.
Somehow he liked the stranger from the start. He had shrewd, gray eyes
that had been wont, no doubt, to twinkle under bushy eyebrows; but with
these now missing his thin face had an almost comical appearance. Still,
there was a kindly expression to be detected there, as well as the keen
look of a savant. And from the way in which Professor McEwen from time to
time watched Rob, it was evident that he had also conceived a great fancy
to the fine, manly looking boy who seemed to be able to master a crisis
so ably.
Presently they drew in at the dock, where Judge Collins was awaiting
them. From the fact that the gentleman gripped a pair of marine glasses
in his hand, and had an anxious look on his face, Rob jumped to the
conclusion that he must have been on the lookout for the coming of the
celebrated scientist from abroad, and might have witnessed the details of
the accident and the rescue.
“I dinna doobt but that ye will have some difficulty in recognizing me,
Judge Collins,” called out the Professor, falling back more than ever
into his Scotch dialect in his mingled amusement and chagrin. “My ain
brother wouldna know me with this blackamoor face, _sans_ eyebrows,
_sans_ beard, and fortunate to have saved my eyesight. I am a fearsome
sicht, and feel unco’-unpleasant in the bargain. But thanks to these braw
laddies we were saved from a watery grave, for which baith feel
thankful.”
“You must come up to the house at once and wash up,” said the judge
feelingly. “Then I shall ease any suffering with some magical pain
extractor that I chance to have and can recommend. No, please stay with
me a little while, boys, unless you are in a great hurry. I want to hear
your side of the story as well. And Captain Jerry, what can I do to make
you comfortable? An old sailing mate of yours is in the boathouse at
work, and if you will join him shortly I will send something comforting
out to you.”
Rob looked at Andy, who nodded his approval of this idea. Andy had never
before met with a chance to see the inside of the judge’s house on the
Point, which, being built of stone, and boasting a few turrets, had come
to be called the “Castle” by most of the baymen. Such a golden
opportunity might not come along again; and, besides, they certainly were
in no hurry, so they could oblige the judge without putting themselves
out at all.
Shortly afterward they found themselves in the library. Rob had been here
before and even spent some hours examining the myriads of curious things
among the collections which Judge Collins kept at his country house,
where he spent more than half the year entertaining visitors.
Here the judge made an examination of the burns of the little Scotch
scientist. It was found that beyond a few painful red marks, and the loss
of the hair that had once been on his face, Professor McEwen was all
right.
He seemed to take his mutilation greatly to heart.
“It would ha’e been peetifu’ eno’ at any time to be transformed into such
a scarecrow as this; but think of me on the way out to join some of my
fellow workers in the avenues of science, and taking with me the balance
of our delayed valuable exhibit. Aweel, aweel, the best laid plans o’
mice an’ men gang aft aglee. I shall ha’e to hide my diminished head
until Nature restores my looks. Ya maun rest assured I shall not let my
friends see me in this way; they wouldna doobt but that it was the
Missing Link come to light.”
“I shall be delighted,” said the judge impulsively, “to have you stay
with me as long as you can spare the time, Professor. It will gladden my
heart more than I can tell you, for the profit is bound to be all on my
side.”
“But whatever am I to do aboot getting that exhibit out to our concession
at the Exposition, now that I shall be utterly unable to attend to it
myself? I wish I could solve that problem; my own discomfort I wouldna
consider so much. In fact, I have undertaken this trip under protest. I
care not a rap or a bawbee as to whether I see the Exhibition or not, if
only I could make positive that my errand had been successfully carried
out.”
“Surely you can send what you are taking there by express, and it will
arrive safely?” suggested the judge.
“But I gave my solemn word,” expostulated the Scotch professor, who
seemed to possess all of the stubborn qualities with which those of his
land are said to be afflicted, “not to let the valuable packet go out of
my possession for a minute, unless I gave it in charge of an equally
responsible messenger. Money would be no object, judge, I assure you, if
only you could find me a gude mon; nane ither would I trust.”
The judge seemed to be pondering. When Andy caught him looking in a
serious fashion in the direction of himself and comrade, somehow he felt
a queer thrill pass through his system, though he did not exactly know
why it should be so.
Then he saw a smile begin to creep over the face of Judge Collins, as he
nodded his head slowly. Whatever had flashed into his mind, it seemed to
afford him considerable satisfaction.
“Professor McEwen,” he said slowly, but earnestly, “if you are looking
for some trustworthy persons to whom you can delegate your mission, and
do not mind what expense there may be attached to carrying it out, I
believe I can suggest a couple of dependable young chaps who might fill
the bill; they are the wide-awake Boy Scouts who were concerned in your
rescue this very morning. How would you like to talk over that business
with Rob Blake and Andy Bowles, here, Professor?”