THE WRECK OF THE _KITTLEWAKE_
"I'm getting a message!" exclaimed Curlie excitedly. "Getting it
distinct and plain, and it's--it's from them."
"Oh, is it?" the girl sprang from the seat.
"From your brother. They've been wrecked. They're not on an island but
on the sea. Safe, though, only--" he paused to listen closely again--"I
can't just make out what he says about his companion."
"Oh! Please, please let me listen!" Gladys Ardmore gripped his arm.
Quickly Curlie snatched the receiver from his head and pressed it down
over her tangled mass of brown hair.
She caught but a few words, then the voice broke suddenly off, but such
words as they were; such words of comfort. The voice of her only
brother had come stealing across the storm to her, assuring her that he
was still alive; that there was still a chance that he might be saved.
She pressed the receivers to her ears in the hopes of hearing more.
In the meantime Curlie was answering the message. In quiet, reassuring
tones he gave their location and told of their purpose in those waters
and ended with the assurance that if it were humanly possible the rescue
should be accomplished.
"And we will save them," he exclaimed. "At least we'll save your
brother."
"You don't think--" Gladys did not finish.
"I hardly know what to think about your brother's chum," Curlie said
thoughtfully. "But this we do know: Your brother is clinging to the
wreckage of a seaplane out there somewhere. And we will save him. See!
the storm is about at an end and morning is near!" He pointed to the
window, where the first faint glow of dawn was showing.
For a moment all were silent. Then suddenly, without warning, there
came a grinding crash that sent a shudder through the _Kittlewake_ from
stem to stern.
"What was that?" exclaimed Joe Marion, springing to his feet from the
floor where he had been thrown.
"We struck something!" Curlie was out upon the deck like a shot.
He all but collided with the skipper, who had deserted his wheel.
"We 'it somethin'," shouted the skipper, "an' she's sinkin' by the
larboard bow. Gotta' git off 'er quick. Boats are gone! Everythin's
gone."
"No," said Curlie calmly, "the raft forward is safely lashed on."
The engineer appeared from below. The engine had already ceased its
throbbing.
"She's fillin' fast," he commented in a slow drawl.
"You two get the raft loose," said Curlie. "I'll get the girl."
Dashing to his stateroom he seized two blankets and a large section of
oiled cloth. With these he dashed to the radio room.
"Got to get out quick!" he exclaimed.
Before she could realize what he was doing, he had seized the girl and
had wrapped her round and round with the blankets, then with the oiled
cloth. Joe had rushed out to help with the raft. Curlie carried the girl
outside and, when the raft with the others aboard was afloat, handed her
down to the skipper.
"Try and keep her dry," he said calmly. "We'll all get soaked, but we
can stand it for a long time; a girl can't."
"Now push off!" he commanded. "Get good and clear so that the wreck will
not draw you down."
"You'll come with us," said the skipper sternly. Curlie had not intended
going with them. He had meant to remain behind and send a call for aid,
then to swim for the raft. But now, as he saw the water gaining on the
stricken craft, he realized how dangerous and futile it would be. He was
needed on the raft to help get her away. Having seen all this at a
flash he said:
"All right; I'll go." Having dropped to the raft, and seized a short
paddle, he joined Joe and the engineer in forcing the unwieldy raft away
from the side of the doomed _Kittlewake_.
They were none too soon, for scarcely two minutes could have elapsed
when with a rush that nearly engulfed them the boat keeled up on end and
sank from sight.
"And now," said Joe addressing Curlie as he settled back to a seat on
one of the gas-filled tubes, "you can test out what you said once about
keeping your radiophone dry and tuned up under any and every
circumstance. Suppose you tune her up now and get off an S.O.S."
There was a smile on the lips of the undaunted young operator as he said
with a drawl:
"Give me time, Joe, old scout, give me time."
The girl, staring out from her wrappings, appeared to fear that the two
boys had gone delirious over this new catastrophe.
But only brave and hardy spirits can joke in the midst of disaster, and
as for Curlie, he really did have one more trick up his sleeve.
As the old skipper sat staring away at the point where his craft had
disappeared beneath the dark waters, he murmured:
"'Twasn't much we 'it; fragment from an iceberg 'er somethin', but 'twas
enough. An' a good little craft she was too."
The storm had passed, but the waves were still rolling high. The raft
tilted to such an angle that now they were all in danger of being
pitched headforemost into the sea, and now in danger of falling backward
into the trough of the waves.
Soaked to the skin, shivering, miserable, the boys and men clung to the
raft, while the girl bewailed the fact that she was not permitted to
suffer with them. Wrapped as she was, and carefully guarded from the
on-rush of the waves, she escaped all the miserable damp and chill of
it.
"Shows you're a real sport," Curlie's lips, blue with cold, attempted a
smile, "but you've got to let us play the gentleman, even out here."
When the waves had receded somewhat, Curlie began digging at one of the
tubes beneath his feet. Having at length unfastened it, he stood it on
end to unscrew some fastenings and lift off the top.
"Canisters of water and some emergency rations!" exclaimed Joe, as he
peered inside. "Great stuff!"
They had taken a swallow of water apiece and were preparing to munch
some hardtack and chocolate when Gladys exclaimed:
"Look over there. What's that?"
"There's nothing," said the engineer after studying the waves for a
moment.
"Oh, yes there was!" the girl insisted emphatically. "Something showed
up on the crest of a wave. It's in the trough of the wave now. It'll
come up again."
"Bit of wreckage from our yacht," suggested Joe.
"Not much wreckage on 'er," said the skipper. "All washed off 'er long
before she sank."
"What could it be then?" The girl was fairly holding her breath. "It
couldn't be--"
"Don't get your hopes up too high," cautioned Curlie. "Of course
miracles do happen, but not so very often."