"ALL ABOARD!"
"Where away?" cried Steve, with his customary impetuousness.
"Don't you dare fool us, Toby Jucklin!" exclaimed Bandy-legs,
menacingly; for if the truth be told, he felt a twinge of envy because
it had not been his sharp eyesight that had first detected the coming
of a rescue party.
Max noticed just where Toby was pointing, and without wasting his
breath in asking useless questions he applied himself to the task of
ascertaining just how much truth there might be in the assertion.
Sure enough, he did manage to discover something that had the
appearance of a boat; but as it rose and fell with the waves, now
vanishing altogether from his sight, and then again being plainly seen,
Max made it out to be a rowboat. There were no oars working in the
sunlight, nor could he discover the first sign of life about the
bobbing craft that was coming down on the flood.
"It is a boat, all right!" admitted Steve, presently, while all of them
continued to stare eagerly at the advancing object; "but a derelict you
might say, because there's not a sign of anybody aboard. And from the
way she rolls so logy, I bet you she's half full of water right now."
The girls began to utter little plaintive exclamations.
"But notice that she floats all right, Steve," Max hastened to tell
him; "and we'll soon find a way to empty that water out, if only we're
lucky enough to lay our hands on that craft."
"But d'ye think it'll come this way?" asked Bandy-legs; "because I'm
ready to swim out after it if there's any chance of the bloomin' old
tub giving our crowd the go-by."
"We've _got_ to get it, that's all," said Max, firmly; "I'd go after it
myself if I thought it would miss hitting the house here. But let's
watch, and see how that comes out. And, Bandy-legs, slip that noose at
the end of the balance of the rope under your arms. If you do have to
swim out to waylay the boat, we can pull you back again whether you get
aboard or not."
"Now, that's a good idea, Max," Steve admitted. "It sure takes you to
think up the right thing at the right time and place. I don't reckon
there'll be such good luck as to be oars aboard a runaway boat; but
even then it's going to be better for the girls than a floating door."
"Oh! I do hope you can get it then!" declared Bessie; and Steve
hearing her say this felt as though he ought to be the one to have that
noose fastened under his arms, rather than Bandy-legs, who could not
swim quite as good.
There was intense excitement on the roof of the imperiled farm-house
about that time. Every one of them seemed to be watching the coming of
that bobbing object as though the fate of the world depended on its
taking a direct course for the building standing alone in the flood.
"Seems like she was coming right along over the same course we did; how
about that, Max?" called out Steve, presently, as the boat drew
steadily closer to the fugitives of the wash-out.
"Yes, as nearly as I can decide that's what she's doing, Steve," Max
replied.
"Oh! let's hope so," Mazie remarked, with a tremor in her voice, that
told of quivering lips, and rapidly beating heart.
"Looky there!" burst out Bandy-legs just then; "if she ain't takin' a
shoot this way even while we're sitting here wishing for the same to
happen. I tell you she's going to hit the house ker-flop, too. No
need of anybody jumpin' over and swimmin' out to her. But I'll leave
the rope where it is, because I'll be in condition to roll off the
roof, and grab her before she c'n slide past."
Nearer and nearer came the boat. It was easy to see that the craft was
partly waterlogged, though still having her gunnels a considerable
distance above the water. Either the boat leaked terribly, or else
this water had splashed in from time to time as rougher places were
encountered.
"Ready, Bandy-legs!" cried Max.
"Watch your eyes, old fellow!" warned Steve.
"And d-d-don't you l-l-let her g-g-get away on your l-l-life!" added
Toby, who was greatly aroused, and had been edging down toward the
gutter for several minutes now, evidently bound to be ready to lend a
helping hand, if the other chum needed it.
It really seemed as though some unseen hand might be guiding that half
swamped rowboat, in the interest of those who were so greatly in need
of assistance; for it came heading in toward the house, urged on by the
grip of the changing current, and finally actually bumped confidingly
against the wall below the edge of the roof.
Bandy-legs was on the alert. He dropped over instantly, and they heard
him utter a whoop of delight as he found himself actually in possession
of a boat.
His first act was to slip the noose from under his arms, and his next
to secure that end of the rope to the bow of the boat. Then he started
in to make the water fly like everything, using his hat as a bailing
bucket.
When he had to rest for a minute Bandy-legs stood up so that his head
and shoulders came above the gutter of the roof, and grinned at the
rest.
"How does she seem to be, Bandy-legs?" asked Steve.
"Course I can't just say for certain yet," came the reply; "but looks
like our boat might be watertight, and that the waves have been
splashing aboard all the time she's been adrift. Wait till I get the
rest of the stuff out, and then I'll know for sure."
"How about oars?" asked Max.
"Ain't nary a sign of the same around, and I'm afraid they must a been
washed overboard when--but hold on there, what's this I'm knocking
against every time I dip deep? Say, here's luck in great big gobs,
fellers; it's an oar stuck under the thwarts, as sure as you live!
What, two of the same, seems like! Well, well, what do you know about
that? Couldn't have asked for anything better, could we? Oh! don't I
wish I had all this water out, though."
He had hardly spoken when some one else dropped into the boat, and
started to hurling the water in great quantities over the side. It was
Shack Beggs, and he had a tin basin in his hands. Max remembered
having seen it floating around in the interior of the house, along with
many other things; but at the time, as none of them wanted to take a
wash, he had not bothered securing it. Shack must have remembered the
basin, and realizing how well it might be utilized now as a bailing
bucket, he had slipped through the scuttle and secured it.
The water began to go down rapidly under their united efforts; though a
little kept coming in over the exposed side of the boat, as it rubbed
against the wall of the farm-house.
Seeing this Max managed to help the other boys shift the location of
their valued prize, and presently it was dangling alongside the three
floating doors, no longer of any moment in their eyes.
"When will we go aboard?" asked Steve, as a more violent shiver passed
over the doomed building than at any previous time.
"Right away," replied the other, who had felt his own heart stop
beating for a brief space of time, as he actually feared that the
catastrophe was about to overwhelm them.
"I'm willing, Max," said Mazie, trying to speak bravely.
"Then come, let me help you down; and the boys in the boat will be
there to do their part; after which we'll get the other girls aboard,"
and saying this Max proceeded to give Mazie his hand, so that she might
creep down the slope of the roof securely.
It was no easy task to manage things so that the three girls were all
taken on board without any accident; but then Shack Beggs again proved
himself invaluable, for it was his strong arms that held the boat close
to the house while the transfer was being made. Max was secretly
delighted with the way Shack was turning out. He actually believed
there would be another vacancy in the ranks of that gang of young
toughs in Carson after this; and was determined that if any friendly
word or act of his could induce Shack to turn over a new leaf, they
would certainly not be withheld. Presently all of them had embarked.
The water by how was well out of the boat, and so far as they could see
not much more was coming in; and that could be readily handled, thanks
to the possession of that dented basin which Shack had twisted into a
handy scoop.
Max had fixed the rope so that by releasing one end it would allow the
boat to drop down the stream with the swift current.
Steve had one oar and Bandy-legs the other, thrust out, and ready for
use.
"Well, here's where we have to say good-bye to the French farm-house,"
and saying this Max let go the rope; "now, pull away, boys, and head
for the shore!"
It had already been decided which bank they must aim to reach; there
was really very little choice between them so far as nearness went; but
the boys thought it would be wiser to make for the west shore. Carson
lay on that side, and then the ground as a whole lay somewhat higher,
so that once they landed they would be less liable to come across
impassable sloughs and lagoons formed by the back-water of the flooded
river.
Both rowers bent their backs, and the boat began to make progress.
They had not been laboring in this fashion three minutes when Bessie
gave utterance to a bubbling cry of anguish.
"Oh! see there what is happening to Uncle Asa's place!" she exclaimed.
The little lame girl set up a loud cry, and sobbed as though her heart
would break, because that farm-house had been her home all her life;
and it was now toppling over into the river.
They could see it moving, at first slowly, then with a sudden rush. It
careened far on one side, and then surged to the other dreadfully. Had
they still been clinging to the ridge the chances were that they would
have been thrown into the water; and besides, there was always great
danger that the house would fall to pieces before long.
"Well, we've got a whole lot to be thankful for, anyway!" Steve
presently remarked, as he patted Bessie's, hand with one of his, using
the oar with the other meanwhile.
"I should say we had!" declared Bandy-legs; "I'd rather be here in this
bully old boat ten times over, to squattin' up on that old roof,
seesawin' along every-which-way. Here, pull harder, Steve; you're
lettin' her yaw around terrible. We want to head for the shore and not
down-river way."
As the two rowers continued to work regularly they kept gradually
nearing the western shore of the flood. Of course this was far removed
from what the bank must be under ordinary conditions, in places as much
as a quarter of a mile further inland. The water was sweeping through
the lower branches of trees that all their lives had been far removed
from the influence of the river; and there would be many changes in the
aspect of things when the flood eventually subsided.
The girls sat there silent, and absorbed in watching the dizzy
evolutions of the drifting farmhouse that was rapidly passing away from
them down-stream. Of course it meant more to the lame child than any
one else, and Max could feel sorry for her. He had only to put himself
in her place, to realize the sadness that would be sure to overwhelm
him should he watch his loved home carried off, never to be seen again.
However he had many other things to think of, and could not spend any
time in crying over spilt milk. Nothing they could do would mend
matters so far as saving the French home was concerned; and they had
enough to do in looking out for their own safety.
"If you get tired, let some of the rest of us spell you, boys," Max was
saying to the pair of rowers, who had all they could do to stem the
furious current that every now and then caught them in a pocket, from
which they could only drag the boat by desperate labor; "I'm a good
hand with the oar, and I know Shack is a regular crackerjack at the
business. Just say the word when you get played out, and we'll change
places with you."
Shack shot him a grateful look. It seemed as though he appreciated
what Max had said, and which seemed to place him on the same level as
the rest of the fellows. Somehow Shack was feeling differently from
any time in the past; why, all this business of getting soaked through,
and battling with the flood was in the nature of a picnic to him,
accustomed to rubbing up against hard knocks as he was. And it felt
pretty nice to be looked on as a "comrade" by these fellows whom he had
always fought tooth and nail in the past; much nicer than loafing with
that old crowd once led by Ted Shatter but now under the guidance of
Ossie Kemp.
They had struck another bad place in the flood, where cross currents
made it difficult work rowing. Both boys strained themselves to the
utmost to resist the grip of the stream. Once across this section, and
possibly they would have it easier all the way to the shore.
Steve was working with his accustomed fits and starts. He would allow
things to go against him, for a short interval, and then throwing on
all his reserve power into the breach make his oar fairly bend with the
furious strain he put upon it.
Suddenly there was a sharp snap. One of the girls gave a cry; it was
Bessie, for she had been watching Steve at the time, and saw instantly
what had happened.
Indeed, it was manifest to every one, because Steve almost took a
"crab" by falling backwards. His sudden splurge had been too much for
the strength of the oar he was handling; and it had broken in two!
The catastrophe staggered them all for the moment; because they could
readily understand what it would mean; since with but one oar they
could hardly expect to continue rowing the boat to the shore, still
some little distance away.