A POINT OF HONOR.
Nearly all that day the Winkyminky paddled bravely on her way, and
then, all of a sudden, she stopped. A large cog-wheel, which was a
part of her machinery, had broken. The engineer had known this wheel
was going to break; but he hoped it would last till they got to
Jacksonville.
Everybody was greatly disturbed at this accident, especially when the
captain told them it could not have occurred in a worse place.
The Winkyminky drew but little water, and thus was sometimes enabled to
make short cuts that a larger boat would not attempt, and, being a very
slow craft, she saved distance whenever she could.
To avoid a long curve, she had gone inside of a wooded island, and here
the accident had taken place. No large steamboat could come to her
assistance here; but the captain said that the Rosa, the only small
boat that would leave Jacksonville that week, would probably be along
in a day or two, and would, most likely, pass inside the island. Then,
he said, he would see what he could do to prevail upon her to turn back
and tow his boat to the city.
This was poor comfort to the passengers, and they grumbled greatly; but
nothing came of the grumbling, and they went to bed that night with the
steamboat anchored near a small island, which shut it out from view of
the body of the river, while the main shore, a hundred or more yards
away, was wild and uninhabited.
In the morning it was found that they were out of fresh water, but the
captain said that about half a mile down-stream, on the main shore,
there was a spring, and having put a barrel on board a small boat, he
sent two of his hands to fill it with water.
Of course, Chap instantly demanded permission to go in the boat, and
much to everybody’s surprise, the countess also said that she would
like to go. It would be a relief from the monotony of sitting in the
anchored steamboat.
The promise of a small compensation made the two men very willing to
row an extra load, and the countess and Chap, in company with the
water-barrel, were pulled to the mainland. Here the two men set to
work to fill the barrel, carrying the water in pails from the spring to
the boat, and taking a good deal of time to do it, while Chap and the
countess walked along the shore to survey the scene, the lady keeping
a sharp lookout for any alligators that might be basking beneath the
trees.
The countess was very much disturbed at the interruption to her journey.
“It is too bad,” she said, “that we are obliged to stay in this horrid
place, and on that wretched little boat. There is no knowing how long
we will have to wait here. The next thing will be that we will have to
send ashore for something to eat as well as water to drink, and what
they’ll find I’m sure I don’t know.”
“I should think they’d send to the city for relief,” said Chap.
“I suppose they will eventually,” the lady replied, “but they’ll have
to wait for a steamboat to come along to do that. I don’t suppose they
could row there.”
At this moment she made an exclamation. They were now below the end of
the island, and could see far down the river, which was here very wide.
Two or three miles away was a large steamboat coming from the city.
“Oh!” cried the countess; “do you see that? If I could only stop her,
and get on board, I would go as far as she is going, and then come
back in her to the city. Anything would be better than staying on that
cramped-up little Winkyminky, with nothing to eat. I believe that would
be the quickest way of getting to Jacksonville, and we would stop
somewhere where I could telegraph to my husband. Oh! can’t we signal
her?”
“I’ll row out to her!” cried Chap. “I’ll stop her!”
And turning, he ran as fast as he could to the place where the boat was
hauled up.
The men had just come down with a couple of pails of water, but when
Chap promised them a dollar apiece to row him out to the approaching
steamboat, they lifted out the barrel, half-filled with water, and
attempted to push off the boat, but they found it stuck in the mud so
tightly that it was almost impossible, and Chap raved and stamped at
the fruitless result of their ill-managed efforts.
The countess was now walking rapidly toward them, but Chap, hoping
in his heart that nothing in the rules of aristocratic circles would
prevent a fellow from wading in the mud in a good cause, pulled off his
shoes and stockings, rolled up his trousers, and plunged in.
By the united strength of the three the boat was soon afloat, and all
jumped in. The negroes seized the oars, and Chap shouted to the lady
that they would be back in no time.
“Don’t fail to stop her!” cried the countess. “Tell them I’ll pay them
for all the time they lose. It is the Humphrey Giles. The captain knows
me.”
The boat left the shore so rapidly that Chap scarcely caught the last
of these words. He suddenly remembered that he was leaving a lady alone
on the shore.
“I never thought,” he said, “that she would be there all by herself.”
“Dar’s nuffin’ dar to hurt her,” said one of the negroes, who was
afraid Chap might change his mind and turn back, and so make them lose
their money; “and we ain’t got no time to take her on if ye want to
ketch that boat.”
“That’s so,” said Chap; “and now give way, my hearties!”
Chap had read tales of man-of-war life and of whaling voyages, and he
knew that the way to make men row hard and fast was to yell and shout
at them like mad, and for work of this kind no one was better adapted
than the captain of the Rolling Stones.
The negroes became so excited that they made the boat spin over the
water. It stopped directly in the course of the Humphrey Giles, when
that boat was a quarter of a mile away.
Chap stood up in the stern, and frantically waved his hat, and
shouted,--
“Stop!”
Perceiving that something was the matter, the captain of the great
steamboat gave orders to slow up and back water, and as soon as she
was stopped Chap was pulled to her side, and gave the news of the
Winkyminky’s disaster, and the message of the countess.
The countess was well known along the river, and apart from his
willingness to assist the passengers of a disabled boat, the captain
knew that he would be paid for any loss he might sustain by stopping.
He asked Chap where the Winkyminky lay, and then told him that he would
go up to the other end of the island, and if the countess and other
passengers who might want to go on board the Giles could be brought to
him without delay, he would wait for them, but that not a moment of
time must be lost.
At this instant a cry was heard from the upper deck.
When Chap heard that cry, he sprang to his feet, and nearly fell
backward out of the boat. Well he knew the voice, especially when it
called his own name.
“Helen!” he exclaimed.
And sure enough, there was Helen leaning over the railing of the upper
deck, and by her side was Mr. Godfrey Berkeley.
When Chap saw his sister, he was at first utterly astounded. He simply
stood and looked at her. Then he made a step forward to climb on board
the steamboat. Then, at the same instant, he remembered the countess
left on the lonely shore. A brief but sharp struggle took place within
him.
The captain again called out that no time must be lost, and that he
could not wait long, and one of the hands ordered his negroes to back
away from the steamboat.
As far as he was concerned, there was no reason why he should not jump
on board and rush to his sister, who was saying all sorts of things to
him from above. But there was that countess! Oh, how he wished that he
had brought her along with him! It would not do to trust those negroes
to go back after her. They would bungle everything, and never get to
the Giles in time. He had come on the lady’s errand, and was bound in
honor to go back to her.
The bell in the engine-room tinkled, and the negroes backed out of the
way of the moving wheels.
“I’ll come back directly, Helen!” screamed Chap. “I’ve got to fetch
a countess! And now you fellows lay yourselves out! Another dollar
apiece if you get us on board the Giles in time.”
Chap exhorted and urged, occasionally turning to wave his hat to Helen,
who shook her handkerchief at him until the island shut them out of
sight of each other.
When Mr. Berkeley had received, in Jacksonville, a telegram directed to
John Robinson, stating that the boys would leave Sanford in the William
Von Glode, he and Helen had kept a sharp lookout for that boat, and
when she arrived they were at her pier, and were greatly troubled at
finding no boys on board.
Phil and Phœnix had never thought of telegraphing to Mr. Robinson that
they had missed the Von Glode, and Mr. Berkeley could not imagine why
they had not come.
The gentleman with the blue shirt and the large family, who had come
from Titusville, was on board, and he told Mr. Berkeley that the boys
had certainly intended to come down on this boat, but just before she
started he had heard something of a disturbance in the town, and as
some disreputable characters were there, between whom and the boys
there was an ill-feeling, he was afraid the young fellows had got into
trouble, which had detained them.
Mr. Berkeley immediately telegraphed to his friend in Sanford, but as
that gentleman happened to be out of town that afternoon, his wife put
the telegram away, as she was accustomed to do with his letters, until
he should return.
Receiving no answer, Mr. Berkeley and Helen took passage early the
next morning on board the Humphrey Giles for Sanford. When they saw
Chap in the stern of the little boat which had stopped the Giles,
their astonishment was as great as they imagined it could be, but when
he rowed frantically away to fetch a countess, their amazement was
actually increased.
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