EPH ENJOYS BEING RESCUED
In going that last eighth of a mile the gunboat's speed was gradually
slowed.
It was a pretty piece of ship-handling. The "_Massapequa_" lost headway
gradually a hundred feet from where Eph sat solemnly blinking back at
the sailors' faces along the forward starboard rail.
An officer's uniform showed at the edge of the bridge, as he called:
"Ahoy, there!"
"Ahoy, yourself," answered Eph. "And another one for courtesy."
"Don't get funny, boy!" admonished the officer on the bridge. "What's
the matter with you?"
"Nothing," Somers replied. "But; say! Can you spare a cushion."
"How did you come to be there, boy?"
"Floated," admitted Eph, truthfully.
"How did you ever get six miles off the coast on that float you're on?"
"Can't remember," replied Eph, dubiously.
"How long have you been out here on the water?"
"Ever since February, 1976," Eph Somers asserted, solemnly.
"Crazy!" muttered the officer to himself. "We'll have to get him aboard
and turn him over to the officers at the next port. I'll try him on one
more question."
Raising his voice, he called:
"What's your business? Do you follow the sea?"
"Say, you haven't caught me leading it anywhere, have you?" inquired Eph,
wonderingly.
"If we throw you a rope, will you try to catch it?"
"Yep, or a beefsteak, either," Somers declared, promptly.
"Send the boy a rope," directed the officer on the bridge. "Be careful
not to sweep him off the float. The lad doesn't seem over-bright."
Though this remark was not intended for his ears, Eph caught it
nevertheless.
"Not bright, am I?" muttered Eph, to himself. "Gracious, what a lot
of company I have in the world, then!"
Through the air the rope, deftly thrown, came swirling. Eph caught his
end of the line in a manner to make the officer say to himself:
"That boy has followed the sea. He knows as much about life on salt
water as I do."
Very deliberately Eph bent over, fastening his end of the line around
the knob on the stateroom door.
"Haul in, my hearties," he hailed.
Eph stood up, balancing himself nicely while the sailors hauled the
slack until the door lay bumping against the side hull of the gunboat.
"Look out," sang out Eph. "Little Willie, the Boy Dewey, is coming
on board."
With that he began to climb the rope, hand over hand, until he reached
the rail and clambered over, standing dripping on the deck.
"Say," remarked a petty officer, "you left the line fast to that raft."
"Certainly," nodded Eph, with cool assurance. "That's so you can haul
the door on board, too. Mother'd make a fuss if I got home without the
door to her ice chest."
"Shall we haul the door aboard, sir?" called the petty officer to the
bridge.
"Yes," nodded the young officer up there.
So that came aboard, too, almost in a jiffy.
Eph, with a very wide grin on his face, stood regarding the sailors who
had curiously gathered around him.
"Where are you from?" asked one of the seamen.
"Just in from the salt water," Eph assured him.
"Let the boy alone, men," warned the officer on the bridge. "I'll have
the guard take care of him for the night. In the morning I'll report
the case to the captain. But bring the boy up here for a moment."
Two sailors thereupon escorted Eph to the bridge. The officer in charge
looked him over curiously.
"Now, young man," began the young officer, "have you anything to tell me
about yourself!"
"Yes," volunteered Eph.
"Go ahead."
"I'm wet."
"Boy, you're in the wrong place to try to get funny," came the stern
rebuke. "I guess I know what you need."
Just at that instant the sounds of a decided though indistinct commotion
came from aft.
"Then shake," begged Eph, offering his hand. "I know, too, what you
need."
"What is it that you think I need?" demanded the officer, suspiciously,
eyeing the boy closely.
"You need to get wise," declared Somers, promptly. Then, noting that
the sounds from aft had caught the officer's quick ear, the submarine
boy added, with another grin:
"By the time you've found out the meaning of the rumpus aft you'll know
a lot more."
Over in one corner of the bridge a cadet midshipman had stood silent
during this talk. Turning to him, the watch officer said hurriedly:
"I leave you in charge here. Look after this boy."
Then the watch officer ran quickly down from the bridge, making his way
aft.
No wonder there was excitement on the after part of the gunboat.
Captain Jack Benson, after heading the "Pollard" about, had run as close
as he, or rather, Hal, dared. Hastings was at the wheel, much of the
upper hull of the boat being now out of water. Jack was forward, on
the upper hull, with a line, one end of which was made fast to the
platform deck. At the other end of the line was an iron bolt for weight.
Close in under the stern of the gunboat, slightly to starboard, stole
the "Pollard." Jack, balancing himself, made a cast of the line. The
iron bolt shot up, past the stern flagstaff, then down into the water
astern again.
With the gunboat lying to, the submarine could move only with the barest
headway. The instant he saw that the line had passed around the base of
the flagstaff, watchful Hal Hastings set the reverse deck control in
order to keep from bumping the "_Massapequa_." Next, the submarine
stole quietly over towards port, Jack, with a boathook, gathering in the
line that he had thrown around the flagstaff. This end he made fast in
a trice.
"The marine guard, if there is one, didn't see the line flying,"
whispered Jack, gliding back over the "Pollard's" hull to the platform
deck. "I don't think I'll be caught now until I'm on that other boat's
deck."
"Good work! Fine!" whispered Commander Ennerling, his eyes gleaming with
satisfaction. "Here's the note."
Captain Jack slipped the folded paper in his pocket, then hastened back
to the line. Hal ran the submarine far enough back to leave the double
line all but taut. Seizing the rope with both hands, Jack made his way
swiftly up to the gunboat's stern rail.
In another twinkling he was over. It was not until his feet touched the
deck that the slight noise caught the marine sentry's ear, causing him
to wheel about.
"Halt!" hailed the marine, throwing his gun to port. "What are you
doing there?"
"I've a message for your commanding officer," Jack answered, halting
with a click of his heels as he brought them together.
"Where did you come from?" demanded the marine, wonderingly.
"Are you the commanding officer?" questioned Jack. "If not, take
me to him."
"Corporal of the guard!" bawled the marine.
Almost in a jiffy the corporal was there.
"Corporal," said Jack, crisply, "I've a message, in writing, and an
official message, too, for your commanding officer."
"I'll take it to him, then," said the corporal. "Or shall I conduct
you to his quarters?"
"You may take it to him," agreed Jack, holding out the folded paper.
"Sentry, keep your eyes on this stranger," ordered the corporal of the
marine guard, as he received the paper.
A moment or two later, the commanding officer of the "_Massapequa_"
was reading this brief but astounding communication:
_Commanding Officer, U.S.S. "Massapequa": You are towing the submarine
torpedo boat "Pollard" astern. Technically and theoretically, haven't
you lost your ship? (signed) Ennerling, Commander, U.S.N._
With an explosive remark the gunboat's commander snatched up his cap,
darting aft. The corporal, whose curiosity was aroused, judged that he
was expected to follow, and did so.
"What's this nonsense about towing a submarine torpedo boat?" demanded
the gunboat's commander, reaching deck aft.
"Wh-what, sir!" stammered the marine sentry, presenting arms.
"Where did this boy come from?" demanded the Naval officer.
"I--I don't--" began the sentry, but his superior, leaving him,
rushed to the flagstaff.
"Sentry, what were you doing? What was everyone else doing?" cried the
gunboat's commander. "Did you think it a part of our cruise to serve as
mooring for stray torpedo boats? You--come here, you blockhead!"
The corporal got there ahead of the private, looking down in utter
bewilderment at the sight of the "Pollard" riding the waves so saucily
just astern of the gunboat's hull.
"Did you come aboard from the submarine?" questioned the gunboat's
commander, wheeling upon Jack Benson.
"Yes, sir."
"Ahoy, '_Massapequa_,'" floated up in Ennerling's tones. "Is that
you, Braylesford?"
"Aye, Ennerling, and a shabby old trick you've played on us!"
Commander Ennerling's hearty laughter came up from below.
"Captain John Benson, the young man who came over your stern rail, is
the genius who planned the joke," called up Ennerling.
"But with your approval, eh?"
"Of course, Braylesford."
"Then, Ennerling, I'm sorry I can't have the pleasure of putting you in
irons," nodded Lieutenant Commander Braylesford, dryly.
"Let down a rope ladder, and I'll come aboard for a moment, Braylesford."
The watch lieutenant, who had hurried aft at this juncture, stood
waiting respectfully for a word with his superior.
"What have you to report, Lieutenant?" demanded Braylesford.
"We stopped, sir, to rescue a boy afloat on a door. He's in bathing
suit, and gives none but the most idiotic replies to my questions."
"He must be part of this outfit," retorted the lieutenant commander,
pointing below at the submarine, at which the watch lieutenant was now
staring with wide-open eyes.
"Yes; that's Eph Somers, one of our crew," smiled Captain Jack. "He was
turned loose on the door to take up your attention, while we did the
tie-behind trick."
A rope ladder having been lowered, Commander Ennerling, by nimble use of
the tow-line, had succeeded in reaching it, and he now came over the
rail, chuckling.
"It's on the '_Massapequa_,' I admit," grinned Braylesford.
"On me, I'm afraid," pronounced the watch lieutenant, with a half-groan.
"Don't feel badly about it, gentlemen," laughed Commander Ennerling.
"Jack Benson is the same lad who stole up under the battleship '_Luzon_,'
and painted the name, 'Pollard,' in sixfoot letters on the hull of the
battleship as a reminder of his call. The lad is a sea-joker of the
first order."
"He ought to be in the Navy," retorted Braylesford, then turned, with a
smile, to offer his hand to the submarine boy.
"Oh, he will be, surely enough, if war-times ever come upon us again,"
replied the commander.
Word was now sent to conduct Eph aft.
"Get aboard your own craft and dress; then come on board and join us in
the ward-room," invited Braylesford.
"I'm afraid the lad can't," said Commander Ennerling. "He and one
other, Hastings, are the only members of the crew that will be left on
the submarine if you keep Benson here to talk with him."
Within two minutes the two craft were on their way south. The members
of the Naval board, Messrs. Farnum and Pollard and Captain Jack were
entertained in the ward-room of the gun-boat, while Hal and Eph ran the
submarine along some two hundred yards to the westward. It was a jolly
time, indeed, in the "_Massapequa's_" ward-room, for Naval officers are
keen to enjoy a good joke, and Jack's exploit was voted a prime one.
At the end of an hour, however, the "Pollard" was signaled to lie to,
the gunboat doing the same. It was time to break up the ward-room party.
The visitors went down the side gangway to a small boat, and were
transferred to the submarine.
"The Navy has something to talk about, now, wherever officers meet for
dinner, or social talk in the ward-room," declared Commander Ennerling.
"At the same time, Benson, your ingenuity and skill have shown us how
easy it is for such a boat as this to destroy any warship afloat. And
now, for Dunhaven and a long sleep--if we don't run into further big
adventures on this eventful night."