The boat was in a shallow part of the river, between the shore and a
long row of piles that marked the steamboat channel. Harry sounded with
an oar, and found that the water was only two feet deep. “We’ll have
to get overboard and drag the boat over the piles,” said he, “and it’s
going to be a mighty hard job, too. That swell threw us over as neat as
the bull threw Joe over the fence up at Lenox last summer.”
“When I got pitched over that fence I stayed there,” said Joe. “I
didn’t try to get back into the field where the bull was, and I don’t
see what we want to get back where the steamboats are for.”
“That’s so,” exclaimed Harry. “We’re safe enough here. Let’s get the
water out of the boat, and keep on this side of the piles.”
When the boat was made dry, and the lighted lantern was hoisted to the
top of the mast, Tom resumed his place at the helm, and Harry and Joe
prepared to take another nap. “I don’t want to grumble,” said Joe, “but
I wish I didn’t have to lie on the coffee-pot and a tin cup. I don’t
feel comfortable on that kind of bed.”
“I’ll change with you if you like,” replied Harry. “I’m sleeping on a
beautiful soft bottle of oil, and some sardine boxes, but I don’t want
to be selfish and keep the best bed for myself.”
“Oh, never mind,” returned Joe. “I’ll manage to sleep if Jim don’t step
on my face. I always did hate to have anybody step on my face when I
was asleep.”
“Well, good-night everybody,” said Harry. “I’m going straight to sleep.
Tom, be sure you wake me up if a steamboat tries to climb over these
piles.”
This time Tom did not fall asleep at the helm, but the wind gradually
died away, and the sail hung limp and useless. Jim got out the oars
without stepping on anybody, and rowed slowly on. In a little while
they came to the end of the shallow lagoon into which the swell had so
unexpectedly cast them. A sand-bank stretched from the shore to the
line of piles, and it was impossible to go any farther. Tom decided to
make the boat fast to the limb of a willow-tree that projected over
the water, and to go ashore and sleep on the sand. Neither he nor Jim
thought it worth while to wake the other boys; so they gathered up
their blankets, crept quietly out of the boat, and were soon asleep on
the soft, warm sand. When Harry and Joe awoke at daylight, stiff and
cramped, they were disposed to be rather indignant at Tom and Jim, who
were sleeping so comfortably on the sand; but Tom soon convinced them
that he had acted from the best of motives, and they readily forgave
him.
Of course breakfast was the first business of the day, and after that
was finished the boat had to be entirely unloaded before she could be
lifted over the piles into the channel. For the first time since they
had started on the cruise the breeze was ahead, but it was so light
that it was of very little consequence. The sky was cloudy, and the
day promised to be a cool one; so the boys resolved to take to their
oars and try, if possible, to reach Albany before night. When the boat
was loaded, Tom and Jim each took a long oar, and Harry took his usual
seat in the stern-sheets. They all felt fresh in spite of their night’s
adventure, and started gayly on their intended long day’s row.
By this time they had found out that, although round tin boxes were
very well to keep things dry, they are by no means handy to carry in
a boat. Their shape made it impossible to stow them compactly. Joe,
who sat at the bow, always had to pick his way over these tin boxes in
going to or coming from his station; and he was constantly catching
his foot in the spaces left between the boxes, and falling down on
them. This smashed in the covers, and tried Joe’s temper sorely. Once
he sat down so violently on the box which held the sugar, that he
went completely through the cover, and was fastened in the box as
securely as a cork in a bottle. He was only released after a great deal
of work, and just in time to enable the boys to have sugar in their
coffee at night. Harry resolved that he would never cruise again with
round boxes, but would have small rubber bags made, in which to put
everything that required to be kept dry.
The boys took turns at the oars every hour, and rowed steadily until
noon. They gave themselves an hour for lunch and resting, and then
resumed their work. Late in the afternoon they came in sight of Albany,
and went ashore, so as to get their dinner before reaching the city.
After dinner they again pulled away at the oars, and at about nine
o’clock they stopped at a lumber-yard on the outskirts of Albany, and,
creeping in among the lumber, wrapped their blankets around them, and
dropped asleep, completely worn out, but proud of their long day’s row.
Before sunrise the next morning, Tom was awakened by a stick which
was thrust into his ribs. Without opening his eyes, he muttered, “You
quit that, or I’ll get up and pound you!” and immediately dropped
asleep again. Somebody then kicked him so sharply that he roused
himself up, and, opening his eyes, was dazzled by the gleam of a
bull’s-eye lantern. He could not at first imagine where he was; but,
as he presently found that a big policeman had him by the collar, and
was calling him “an impudent young thief,” he began to imagine that
something was wrong.
“I’ve got you this time,” said the policeman, “and the whole gang of
you. Where did you steal that property in your boat from, you precious
young river pirate?”
“We’re not river pirates,” replied Tom. “We’re Moral Pirates, and we
brought those things in the boat with us from New York.”
“Well, I like your cheek!” said the officer; “owning up that you’re
pirates. Now just you and your gang take everything out of that boat
and let me see what you’ve got. If any of you try to escape, I’ll put
a bullet into you. You hear me?”
The other boys had been awakened by the loud voice of the policeman,
and were staring at him in utter astonishment.
“He thinks we’re river thieves,” said Tom. “Harry, we’ll have to show
him what we’ve got in the boat, and then he’ll see his mistake.”
Harry eagerly assured the policeman that they had come from New York
on a pleasure cruise, and had nothing in the boat except provisions
and stores. “That’s a pretty story,” said the officer. “You can tell
that to the court. Your boat’s full of junk that you’ve stolen from
somewhere; and you’d better hand it out mighty quick!”
The boys were thus compelled to unload their boat, while the policeman
stood over them with his club in one hand and his lantern in the other.
He was not a stupid man, and he soon perceived that the boys had told
him the truth; they were not the gang of river thieves for whom he
had mistaken them. He therefore apologized, in a rough way, and even
helped the boys repack the boat.
“What I can’t understand,” said he, “is why you boys come here and
sleep in a lumber-yard, when you might be sleeping at home in your
beds. Now if you were thieves, you couldn’t get any better lodgings,
you know; but you’re gentlemen’s sons, and you ought to know better.
Why don’t you go down to the hotel and live like gentlemen? Where’s the
fun in being arrested, and taking up my valuable time?”
The boys assured him that they had never enjoyed themselves more than
they had while on the cruise, and after a little more talk the officer
turned slowly away.
“By-the-bye,” he exclaimed, suddenly turning back again, “one of you
told me you were pirates. I ought to take you in after all. I believe
you’re a lot of boys that have been reading dime novels, and have run
away from home.”
“I didn’t say we were pirates,” replied Tom. “I said we were Moral
Pirates. That’s a very different thing.”
“Of course it is,” said Joe. “A Moral Pirate is a sort of missionary,
you know. I’m afraid you don’t go to Sunday-school, officer, or you’d
know better.”
The policeman could not quite make up his mind whether Joe was in joke
or in earnest; but as he could find no real reason for arresting the
boys, he contented himself with telling them to leave the lumber-yard
as soon as the sun rose. “And you’d better look out,” he added, “that
you don’t come across any real river thieves. They’ll make no bones of
seizing your boat, and knocking you on the head if you make any noise.”
When he was fairly out of sight, the boys crept back to their shelter
among the lumber, and coolly went to sleep again. They were so tired
that neither policemen nor river thieves had any terrors for them.