THE BOYS PLAN AN ESCAPE
"Now she takes it!" French Pete cried.
Both lads ran into the cockpit. They were on the edge of the breaking bar.
A huge forty-footer reared a foam-crested head far above them, stealing
their wind for the moment and threatening to crush the tiny craft like
an egg-shell. Joe held his breath. It was the supreme moment. French Pete
luffed straight into it, and the _Dazzler_ mounted the steep slope with
a rush, poised a moment on the giddy summit, and fell into the yawning
valley beyond. Keeping off in the intervals to fill the mainsail, and
luffing into the combers, they worked their way across the dangerous
stretch. Once they caught the tail-end of a whitecap and were well-nigh
smothered in the froth, but otherwise the sloop bobbed and ducked with
the happy facility of a cork.
To Joe it seemed as though he had been lifted out of himself--out of
the world. Ah, this was life! this was action! Surely it could not be
the old, commonplace world he had lived in so long! The sailors, grouped
on the streaming deck-load of the steamer, waved their sou'westers, and,
on the bridge, even the captain was expressing his admiration for the
plucky craft.
"Ah, you see! you see!" French Pete pointed astern.
The sloop-yacht had been afraid to venture it, and was skirting back
and forth on the inner edge of the bar. The chase was over. A pilot-boat,
running for shelter from the coming storm, flew by them like a frightened
bird, passing the steamer as though the latter were standing still.
Half an hour later the _Dazzler_ sped beyond the last smoking sea and was
sliding up and down on the long Pacific swell. The wind had increased its
velocity and necessitated a reefing down of jib and mainsail. Then they
laid off again, full and free on the starboard tack, for the Farralones,
thirty miles away. By the time breakfast was cooked and eaten they picked
up the _Reindeer_, which was hove to and working offshore to the south and
west. The wheel was lashed down, and there was not a soul on deck.
French Pete complained bitterly against such recklessness. "Dat is ze one
fault of Red Nelson. He no care. He is afraid of not'ing. Some day he will
die, oh, so vaire queeck! I know he will."
Three times they circled about the _Reindeer_, running under her weather
quarter and shouting in chorus, before they brought anybody on deck. Sail
was then made at once, and together the two cockle-shells plunged away
into the vastness of the Pacific. This was necessary, as 'Frisco Kid
informed Joe, in order to have an offing before the whole fury of the
storm broke upon them. Otherwise they would be driven on the lee shore
of the California coast. Grub and water, he said, could be obtained by
running into the land when fine weather came. He congratulated Joe upon
the fact that he was not seasick, which circumstance likewise brought
praise from French Pete and put him in better humor with his mutinous
young sailor.
"I 'll tell you what we 'll do," 'Frisco Kid whispered, while cooking
dinner. "To-night we 'll drag French Pete down--"
"Drag French Pete down!"
"Yes, and tie him up good and snug, as soon as it gets dark; then put
out the lights and make a run for land; get to port anyway, anywhere,
just so long as we shake loose from Red Nelson."
"Yes," Joe deliberated; "that would be all right--if I could do it
alone. But as for asking you to help me--why, that would be treason
to French Pete."
"That 's what I 'm coming to. I 'll help you if you promise me a few
things. French Pete took me aboard when I ran away from the 'refuge,'
when I was starving and had no place to go, and I just can't repay him
for that by sending him to jail. 'T would n't be square. Your father
would n't have you break your word, would he?"
"No; of course not." Joe knew how sacredly his father held his word
of honor.
"Then you must promise, and your father must see it carried out, not
to press any charge against French Pete."
"All right. And now, what about yourself? You can't very well expect
to go away with him again on the _Dazzler_!"
"Oh, don't bother about me. There 's nobody to miss me. I 'm strong
enough, and know enough about it, to ship to sea as ordinary seaman.
I 'll go away somewhere over on the other side of the world, and begin
all over again."
"Then we 'll have to call it off, that 's all."
"Call what off?"
"Tying French Pete up and running for it."
"No, sir. That 's decided upon."
"Now listen here: I 'll not have a thing to do with it. I 'll go on to
Mexico first, if you don't make me one promise."
"And what 's the promise?"
"Just this: you place yourself in my hands from the moment we get ashore,
and trust to me. You don't know anything about the land, anyway--you said
so. And I 'll fix it with my father--I know I can--so that you can get to
know people of the right sort, and study and get an education, and be
something else than a bay pirate or a sailor. That 's what you 'd like,
is n't it?"
Though he said nothing, 'Frisco Kid showed how well he liked it by the
expression of his face.
"And it 'll be no more than your due, either," Joe continued. "You will
have stood by me, and you 'll have recovered my father's money. He 'll
owe it to you."
"But I don't do things that way. I don't think much of a man who does
a favor just to be paid for it."
"Now you keep quiet. How much do you think it would cost my father for
detectives and all that to recover that safe? Give me your promise, that
's all, and when I 've got things arranged, if you don't like them you
can back out. Come on; that 's fair."
They shook hands on the bargain, and proceeded to map out their line of
action for the night.
* * * * *
But the storm, yelling down out of the northwest, had something entirely
different in store for the _Dazzler_ and her crew. By the time dinner was
over they were forced to put double reefs in mainsail and jib, and still
the gale had not reached its height. The sea, also, had been kicked up till
it was a continuous succession of water-mountains, frightful and withal
grand to look upon from the low deck of the sloop. It was only when the
sloops were tossed upon the crests of the waves at the same time that they
caught sight of each other. Occasional fragments of seas swashed into the
cockpit or dashed aft over the cabin, and Joe was stationed at the small
pump to keep the well dry.
At three o'clock, watching his chance, French Pete motioned to the
_Reindeer_ that he was going to heave to and get out a sea-anchor.
This latter was of the nature of a large shallow canvas bag, with the
mouth held open by triangularly lashed spars. To this the towing-ropes
were attached, on the kite principle, so that the greatest resisting
surface was presented to the water. The sloop, drifting so much faster,
would thus be held bow on to both wind and sea--the safest possible
position in a storm. Red Nelson waved his hand in response that he
understood and to go ahead.
French Pete went forward to launch the sea-anchor himself, leaving it
to 'Frisco Kid to put the helm down at the proper moment and run into
the wind. The Frenchman poised on the slippery fore-deck, waiting an
opportunity. But at that moment the _Dazzler_ lifted into an unusually
large sea, and, as she cleared the summit, caught a heavy snort of the
gale at the very instant she was righting herself to an even keel. Thus
there was not the slightest yield to this sudden pressure on her sails
and mast-gear.
There was a quick snap, followed by a crash. The steel weather-rigging
carried away at the lanyards, and mast, jib, mainsail, blocks, stays,
sea-anchor, French Pete--everything--went over the side. Almost by a
miracle, the captain clutched at the bobstay and managed to get one hand
up and over the bowsprit. The boys ran forward to drag him into safety,
and Red Nelson, observing the disaster, put up his helm and ran down to
the rescue.