TROUBLE--PLENTY
Even Ruth Fielding had paid no attention to the warning of the Reef Island
hermit regarding a change in the weather, in spite of the fact that she
was anxious to return to the camp near Herringport. It was not until the
_Stazy_ was outside the inlet late in the afternoon that Skipper Phil
Gordon noted the threatening signs in sea and sky.
"That's how it goes," the one-armed mariner said. "When we aren't
dependent on the wind to fill our canvas, we neglect watching every little
weather change. She's going to blow by and by."
"Do you think it will be a real storm?" asked Ruth, who sat beside him at
the steering wheel and engine, watching how he managed the mechanism.
"Maybe. But with good luck we will make Beach Plum Point long before it
amounts to anything."
The long graybacks were rather pleasant to ride over at first. Even Aunt
Kate was not troubled by the prospect. It was so short a run to the
anchorage behind the Point that nobody expressed fear.
When the spray began to fly over the bows the girls merely squealed a bit,
although they hastily found extra wraps. If the _Stazy_ plunged and
shipped half a sea now and then, nobody was made anxious. And soon the
Point was in plain view.
To make the run easier, however, Skipper Gordon had sailed the motor-yacht
well out to sea. When he shifted the helm to run for the entrance to the
bay, the waves began to slap against the _Stazy's_ side. She rolled
terrifically and the aspect of affairs was instantly changed.
"Oh, dear me!" moaned Jennie Stone. "How do you feel, Henri? I did not
bargain for this rough stuff, did you? Oh!"
"'Mister Captain, stop the ship, I want to get off and walk!'" sang Helen
gaily. "Don't lose all hope, Heavy. You'll never sink if you do go
overboard."
"Isn't she mean?" sniffed the plump girl. "And I am only afraid for
Henri's sake."
"I don't like this for my own sake," murmured Aunt Kate.
"Are you cold, dear?" her niece asked, with quick sympathy. "Here! I don't
really need this cape with my heavy sweater."
She removed the heavy cloth garment from her own shoulders and with a
flirt sought to place it around Aunt Kate. The wind swooped down just then
with sudden force. The _Stazy_ rolled to leeward.
"Oh! Stop it!"
Bulging under pressure of the wind, the cape flew over the rail. Jennie
tried to clutch it again; Henri plunged after it, too. Colliding, the two
managed between them to miss the garment altogether. It dropped into the
water just under the rail.
"Of all the clumsy fingers!" ejaculated Helen. But she could not seize the
wrap, although she darted for it. Nor could Ruth help, she being still
farther forward.
"Now, you've done it!" complained Aunt Kate.
The boat began to rise on another roller. The cape was sucked out of sight
under the rail. The next moment the whirling propeller was stopped--so
abruptly that the _Stazy_ shook all over.
"Oh! what has happened?" shrieked Helen.
Ruth started up, and Tom seized her arm to steady her. But the girl of the
Red Mill did not express any fear. The shock did not seem to affect her so
much as it did the other girls. Here was a real danger, and Ruth did not
lose her self-possession.
Phil Gordon had shut off the power, and the motor-boat began to swing
broadside to the rising seas.
"The propeller is broken!" cried Tom.
"She's jammed. That cape!" gasped the one-armed skipper. "Here! Tend to
this till I see what can be done. Jack!" he shouted to his crew. "This
way--lively, now!"
But Ruth slipped into his place before Tom could do so.
"I know how to steer, Tommy," she declared. "And I understand the engine.
Give him a hand if he needs you."
"Oh, we'll turn turtle!" shrieked Jennie, as the boat rolled again.
"You'll never become a turtle, Jen," declared Tom, plunging aft. "Turtles
are dumb!"
The _Stazy_ was slapped by a big wave, "just abaft the starboard bow," to
be real nautical, and half a ton of sea-water washed over the forward deck
and spilled into the standing-room of the craft.
Henri had wisely closed the door of the cabin. The water foamed about
their feet. Ruth found herself knee deep for a moment in this flood. She
whirled the wheel over, trying to bring up the head of the craft to meet
the next wave.
"Oh, my dear!" groaned Jennie Stone. "We are going to be drowned."
"Drowned, your granny!" snapped Helen angrily. "Don't be such a silly,
Jennie."
Ruth stood at the wheel with more apparent calmness than any of them. Her
hair had whipped out of its fastenings and streamed over her shoulders.
Her eyes were bright and her cheeks aglow.
Helen, staring at her, suddenly realized that this was the old Ruth
Fielding. Her chum had not looked so much alive, so thoroughly competent
and ready for anything, before for weeks.
"Why--why, Ruthie!" Helen murmured, "I believe you like this."
Her chum did not hear the words, but she suddenly flashed Helen a
brilliant smile. "Keep up your pluck, child!" she shouted. "We'll come out
all right."
Again the _Stazy_ staggered under the side swipe of a big wave.
"Ye-ow!" yelped Tom in the stern, almost diving overboard.
"Steady!" shouted Skipper Gordon, excitedly.
"Steady she is, Captain!" rejoined Ruth Fielding, and actually laughed.
"How can you, Ruth?" complained Jennie, clinging to Henri Marchand. "And
when we are about to drown."
"Weeping will not save us," flung back Ruth.
Her strong hands held the wheel-spokes with a grip unbreakable. She could
force the _Stazy's_ head to the seas.
"Can you start the engine on the reverse, Miss?" bawled Gordon.
"I can try!" flashed Ruth. "Say when."
In a moment the cry came: "Ready!"
"Aye, aye!" responded Ruth, spinning the flywheel.
The spark caught almost instantly. The exhaust sputtered.
"Now!" yelled the skipper.
Ruth threw the lever. The boat trembled like an automobile under the
propulsion of the engine. The propeller shaft groaned.
"Ye-ow!" shouted the excited Tom again.
This time he sprawled back into the bottom of the boat, tearing away a
good half of Jennie's cape in his grip. The rest of the garment floated to
the surface. It was loose from the propeller.
"Full speed ahead!" shouted the one-armed captain of the motor-boat.
Ruth obeyed the command. The _Stazy_ staggered into the next wave. The
water that came in over her bow almost drowned them, but Ruth, hanging to
the steering wheel, brought the craft through the roller without swamping
her.
"Good for our Ruth!" shouted Helen, as soon as she could get her breath.
"Oh, Ruth! you always come to our rescue," declared Jennie gratefully.
"Hi! I thought you were a nervous wreck, young lady," Tom sputtered,
scrambling forward to relieve her. "Get you into a tight corner, and you
show what you are made of, all right."
The girl of the Red Mill smiled at them. She had done something! Nor did
she feel at all overcome by the effort. The danger through which they had
passed had inspired rather than frightened her.
"Why, I'm all right," she told Tom when he reached her. "This is great!
We'll be behind the shelter of the Point in a few minutes. There's nothing
to worry about."
"You're all right, Ruth," Tom repeated, admiringly. "I thought you'd lost
your grip, but I see you haven't. You are the same old Ruthie Fielding,
after all."