Szz-zz! Sputter! And the fragrance of it, too!
"Say, you fellows; aren't you ever going to wake up?"
Jed Prentiss had his hand on Joe, shaking him.
"Have you any idea what time it is?" insisted Jed, as Dawson opened his
eyes halfway.
"Time to go to bed again," muttered Joe, trying to shake off that
insistent hand and rolling over the other way.
"It's after noon," pronounced Prentiss. "Say, you fellows could sleep a
week through!" And Jed gave Joe a hearty shake. "I told you breakfast is
ready."
"No, you didn't," insisted Joe.
"I've told you so three times in the last five minutes," asserted Jed,
"but you wouldn't wake up long enough to understand. Can't you get it
through your head? _Breakfast!_"
"Whatcher got?" asked Joe drowsily.
"Coffee!"
"Had that yesterday," protested Joe, settling himself as though for
another doze.
"And bacon and eggs!"
"Had that three days ago," complained Joe.
"And fried potatoes," went on Jed.
"They'll keep."
"Muffins!" proclaimed Jed solemnly.
At that Dawson opened his eyes wide.
"Are they sticky inside or your best kind, browned all over the top?"
Joe asked with a show of interest.
"Browned?" echoed Jed. "Say, they're beauties--the best I ever baked.
And I've opened a tin of preserved pineapple to top off with."
"I guess maybe I'll get up," admitted Joe.
"You'd better, if you don't want to find everything cold and tasteless,"
insisted Jed, who thereupon went over to shake Halstead.
But Tom slipped up instantly, reaching for his swimming tights. Soon a
splash was heard over the side. Joe followed him. Both felt more awake
when they came back to towel down. As they dressed the savory smells of
Jed's best breakfast made them hurry.
"I'd sooner have you wake me up, Jed, than some folks I know," announced
Joe Dawson, as he passed his plate for the second helping of bacon, eggs
and fried potatoes.
"It _does_ taste good," Halstead admitted with a relish, chewing hard.
"But has there been any news from the house this morning?"
"Haven't seen a soul, except you sleepers," Jed answered.
"How did you wake up, anyway!" demanded Joe suspiciously. "Alarm clock
at your head?"
"Yes," assented Prentiss. "But it really woke me up. That's more than it
could do for you fellows."
By the time they had that famous breakfast down all felt better. Tom and
Joe adjourned to the deck, where Jed joined them as soon as he had
washed the dishes and cleaned up.
"Here comes Mr. Dunstan now," announced Joe presently.
All turned to look at the boat's owner. Mr. Dunstan appeared to have
aged greatly after his night's vigil. His face was furrowed by care; he
walked with a greater stoop than before.
"Poor fellow," sighed Halstead. "And there are only twenty-four hours
left for finding the Dunstan heir."
"No news, I take it, sir?" hailed Tom, as the owner stepped upon the
pier and came toward the boat.
"None, since the word Mr. Musgrave sent me last night of your exploits,"
murmured Horace Dunstan, shaking his head sadly. "And to think that my
boy has spent days aboard that ugly craft," he added, gazing wistfully
at the yellow-hulled launch at anchor a few rods away. Then he turned
once more to the young skipper.
"How are you and your friends, Halstead? Very tired?"
"I don't believe we're so weary that you'd notice it unless you looked
very hard," smiled Halstead.
"If you're not too much used up by last night's work I have a favor to
ask of you. But it's not an order, understand?"
"Why, what can it be, Mr. Dunstan?"
"Well, you see," continued the owner apologetically, "before this
trouble happened we had invited Mrs. Lester and her two young daughters
to spend a fortnight with us. They had not heard of our misfortune, and
so they came over on this morning's boat. They heard in Nantucket and
telephoned us, proposing to turn about and go home again. But of course
we insisted that they should come to us. They are going to church, this
evening, but Mrs. Dunstan is so much upset over the mystery surrounding
our son that--that--well, we thought of proposing that they use the
'Meteor' for a little sail this afternoon. That is, in case you young
men are not too tired to----"
"Why, of course we can take the boat out," replied Halstead, breaking in
upon the considerate owner. "It won't tire us any more than lolling
around the pier."
"Mrs. Dunstan and I will both be greatly pleased if you will do it,"
declared Horace Dunstan gratefully.
"But do you think any developments from shore will make it necessary to
get the 'Meteor' on the jump over to Wood's Hole?" broke in Joe.
"You might keep the boat within sight of our flagpole," replied Mr.
Dunstan. "That will allow you to sail some miles away if you use the
glass every few minutes. In case we want you to return here in haste
we'll hoist one red pennant. If we want you to make full speed for
Wood's Hole, without first returning here, we'll hoist two red pennants.
In the latter case you can land Mrs. Lester and her daughters and they
can go to the hotel at Wood's Hole until your work with the boat is
done. Then you can bring them back."
"That'll all be clear and easy," nodded Tom. "Well, sir, we're ready
when you are."
"I'll be right back with the ladies," promised Mr. Dunstan. Joe began to
oil the engine, while Jed made a dive for his cleanest white duck suit.
Tom carefully brushed his uniform; he had secured another coat, at the
owner's expense, since leaving that other behind in the tight grip of
Jonas French. It was a trim, natty-looking boat's crew that met the
ladies when Mr. Dunstan brought them aboard. Mrs. Lester was a woman of
forty, still young looking and handsome. The girls--Elsie, aged
seventeen, and Jessie, fifteen, looked extremely sweet and dainty in
their white dresses, blue reefers and yachting caps.
Mr. Dunstan left them almost immediately.
"Shall I take you aft to the deck chairs?" inquired Tom.
Mrs. Lester assented, but the girls declared that, if they might, they
much preferred to remain on the bridge deck and watch the running of the
boat. To this Tom gladly assented.
The "Meteor" slipped gracefully away from her pier, then turned and
headed over in the direction of Muskeget Island. This was a course that
would keep them easily in sight of the Dunstan flagpole.
"You must look upon us as splendid nuisances?" suggested Elsie.
"Yes, to that, if you'll leave out the word 'nuisances,'" smiled Captain
Tom gallantly.
"But to be asked to take the boat out, after all your hard and daring
work last night," added Jessie.
"Hard work comes naturally in a life on the sea," Tom replied. "And we
had our sleep, after the night's work."
"But what fearful danger you went through. Mr. Dunstan was telling us
all about it, as he heard it from his man over at Wood's Hole," said
Elsie. "What fearful danger you were in!"
"We didn't think much about it at the time," remarked Halstead modestly.
"When one has had to stand at the wheel of a motor boat, on the broad
ocean, in all sorts of weather, and when he has to win out and bring his
craft and passengers back safely, he doesn't meet much that he calls
dangerous."
It was so quietly spoken that both girls glanced quickly, admiringly at
the young captain. Joe, standing at the hatchway, looked as though he
were thinking of nothing but the revolutions per minute that the
propeller shaft was making.
"It must just be a splendid life!" declared Jessie impulsively. "I wish
I were a boy."
"Some day," laughed Tom, "you may be pleased that you're not."
"Yet it must be fine," pursued Elsie, "to look over this handsome boat
and feel that you're man enough to be absolute master of her and to feel
that you can handle and control her under any conditions."
"I couldn't," Halstead declared seriously. "I can steer the boat as long
as the steering gear isn't damaged or broken, that is, if the boat is
under headway. But let there be an accident to the steering mechanism or
let the motor refuse to drive the propeller, and suppose the accident to
be of such a nature that we three boys couldn't make the necessary
repairs, how much control do you think I'd have over this craft? How
much of a master do you think I'd be? Miss Lester, certain men have used
their brains to design boat hulls. Other men have invented and perfected
the propeller mechanism. Then finally other men, out of their brains,
constructed the gasoline motor. We boys didn't have anything to do with
any of those triumphs of skill. All we've had to do is to learn how to
be handy with the handling of other people's discoveries."
"That doesn't sound very impressive, does it?" laughed Jessie.
"It isn't," declared Joe, taking part in the talk for the first time.
"Down at the mouth of the Kennebec River there's a whole club of boys
who have learned to do just what we do."
"You may try to make out that you're not brave and manly," laughed
Elsie, "but I shall keep on believing that you are."
"That's why I wish, sometimes, I could be a boy and grow up to be a
man," added Jessie.
"I guess a woman can find enough chance to show bravery," Tom answered
thoughtfully.
"Oh, how the boat is rolling," cried Elsie, lurching as the "Meteor"
rolled over to port.
Jed, who had just lowered the glass after a look at the Dunstan
flagstaff, caught her lightly by one elbow, steadying her.
"If you brace your feet, just this way," explained Jed, illustrating the
idea with his own feet, "the roll won't carry you off your balance."
Both girls practiced it, laughing gayly over having learned a new trick
on shipboard.
"Mr. Dunstan said something about your going only a certain distance
away from his place," observed Miss Elsie presently.
"We must keep within sight of the flagstaff; that is, we mustn't go so
far that we'd fail to see a signal through the glass," Tom explained.
"How much further can you go, then?" inquired Miss Jessie.
"Do you see that point over on Muskeget Island?"--pointing.
"Yes."
"We can go a couple of miles beyond there and still be able to make out
signals."
"My, it's getting windier and rougher, isn't it?" asked Elsie presently.
"I think there's a good blow coming up before long," Halstead answered.
"If you wish, we can turn about and head back toward the pier."
"Not unless you really want to," protested the girl. "I'm enjoying this
trip too much."
"Then we'll pass Muskeget and cruise up and down, instead of going
further away from Nantucket," Tom proposed. "The wind is shifting around
to northeast, which promises a goodish kind of blow at this time of the
year. If we should get very rough weather I'd like to be where I can run
in with you quickly, instead of taking chances out here."
"Can the 'Meteor' go faster than she's going now?"
"Well, she's making about fourteen miles," smiled the young captain.
"Her best speed is about twice that."
They ran out past Muskeget Island, then turned back on their course,
going nearer to Nantucket. They were now about north of Muskeget, but
gradually passing the island, when Tom began to notice that something
was wrong with the speed of the boat.
"What's up with the engine, Joe?" Halstead called down to his now
invisible chum.
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Joe retorted. "I don't like the
motor's behavior, and it's getting worse every minute."
"I should say so," muttered Tom.
"There isn't any danger of a serious accident, is there?" asked Miss
Elsie quickly.
"Probably not," was the young skipper's reply. "But we don't know, and
can't, until we find out what's wrong."
"Oh, we ought to hurry back," shivered Miss Elsie. "We ought to get in
before there's any accident."
"Why, provided none of us were drowned, an accident would be something
worth remembering," laughed Jessie mischievously.
"Jessie Lester, how dare you say so?" demanded her sister, looking
somewhat shocked.
"Say," bawled up the now excited voice of Joe Dawson, "this is a tough
one!"
He showed his worried face at the hatchway, adding:
"The tank's empty! The last drops of gasoline are running into the
motor!"
"What's that?" demanded Tom aghast. "How could that have happened?"
"I don't know," was Joe's bewildered response. "The tank was half-full
when we got back from Wood's Hole early this morning. But now it's
empty. Look for yourself."
The propeller shaft made a few faint turns, then stopped. Having little
headway by this time the "Meteor" soon began to drift aimlessly over the
rolling waters.
"I don't need to look," Tom answered, dropping his hand from the wheel
"I can see enough to believe you, Joe. But how on earth could this have
happened, Joe?"
"It didn't happen without some one tampering with the tank," Joe
exploded resentfully. "There's no leak in the tank. We should, by
rights, have oil enough to run to New York and back."
There being nothing now that he could do in the engine room, Dawson
stepped moodily up on deck. The girls watched Captain Tom's face. Mrs.
Lester, her curiosity aroused by the stopping of speed, attempted to
come forward along the deck. The rolling of the craft made this so
dangerous for her that Jed sprang forward, piloting her safely forward.
There the situation was soon made plain to the frightened mother.
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
"I don't know," Tom asked, the glass to his eyes, as he looked over the
rolling waters. "Had our gasoline held out we could have made the pier
with time to spare."
"Is there real danger, then?" demanded Mrs. Lester, her face betraying
her great alarm.
"There's a northeast blow, and a big one, going to strike us within half
an hour," the young skipper replied. "And there's not a craft in sight I
can signal to. Our anchors wouldn't hold in the blow that's coming."
"Can't you signal the Dunstan place?" asked the much-alarmed lady.
"Yes, but I doubt if they could see our signals, our mast is so low and
the distance so great."
"But they have that steam launch there. If you could make them
understand, captain, they could send the launch out to us."
"The launch is too small a craft to face the blow that's coming," Tom
rejoined gravely. "Besides, Mr. Dunstan has no one who knows anything
about handling a marine steam engine. If you ladies will go into the
cabin----"
"And feel like rats in a trap while there's danger!" remonstrated Mrs.
Lester. "Oh, please don't ask us to leave the deck. We'll feel safer
here. At least we shall be able to see what's happening."
"Get the lifelines, Joe, and rig them quickly," spoke Tom gravely. "Jed,
help me to get the anchors overboard. We'll do everything we can."
While the boys worked like beavers the wind came down upon them with
ever-increasing force. At first the anchors held, the "Meteor" straining
at her cables.
"Here comes a squall!" shouted Tom, suddenly. "Catch hold! Hold fast!
We'll soon know about our anchors."
As the squall struck, the "Meteor" heeled over. The ladies screamed with
fright. Even the motor boat boys felt the thrill of dread. The boat
rolled as though she were going to turn turtle. Then, slowly, she
righted herself.
"One of the cables has parted!" shouted Jed, through the increasing
tempest.
Another and heavier squall struck them, again heeling the motor boat
over. She righted herself, but the gale was becoming stronger, and,
despite the remaining anchor, the "Meteor" now began to drift toward the
lee shore of Muskeget.
Miss Elsie, deathly white, and clutching desperately at the lifelines,
began to sob.
"It's fearful, I know," spoke Captain Tom, quietly. "But we've got to
face it and hope for the best. You were admiring courage a while ago,
but now you can show as much as any man could."
"You're right," Miss Elsie called back through the roar of the gale, as
she steadied herself. "Thank you; by pointing out the need of courage
you've given me much."
Tom turned to stare, with grave, impassive face, to leeward. An eighth
of a mile off the beach at Muskeget lay a reef ordinarily sunken below
the surface in calm weather. But now the waves were dashing over this
ledge, showing the jagged points of the rough stone.
"If a miracle doesn't happen," thought the young skipper, noting the
course of the boat's drift, "we'll wreck there soon, and then there's a
doubt if one of us gets out of it alive!"