The fog held close until just before sunset, although there were times
when the three on the _Vagabond_ could make out the shore quite
distinctly and thereby gained a very fair notion of where they lay. When
the mist finally disappeared inland they found their notion to be
correct. The launch lay some hundred yards from shore to the east of the
river's mouth. Just how they had managed to reach the position it was
hard to say, although Nelson's idea was that they had become both
actually and metaphorically turned around when the launch had gone
aground and had subsequently, instead of running upstream, crossed it
diagonally and passed out toward the east.
It was a long day. The _Vagabond_ rolled sleepily from side to side in
the slow swells and seemed very bored and weary. The boys played cards
for a while after luncheon, but, as Dan remarked, there wasn't a decent
game that three could play. So they threw down the cards in disgust and
went to writing letters. But, somehow, inspiration didn't come very
well, and finally Nelson gave up the attempt in despair and went out to
the engine room and "fiddled with the engine"; the expression is Dan's.
Nelson could always manage to spend an hour or so quite contentedly with
wrenches and pliers, oil cans and emery cloth and a nice big bunch of
cotton waste. Just what he accomplished this afternoon I can't say; but
he killed fully an hour.
In the meanwhile both Bob and Dan had taken to their bunks and had
succeeded in getting to sleep. And so it was Nelson who discovered that
the fog was lifting when, his "fiddling" completed, he put his head out
of the door to toss a bunch of very dirty waste overboard. As the
easiest way to awaken the sleepers he gave a long blast on the whistle.
The effect was almost magical. Dan jumped clear out of the bunk and
landed very wide-awake in the middle of the floor. Bob managed to escape
with a bump on the side of his head. After recovering themselves they
descended wrathfully on Nelson, demanding explanations. Nelson, wedged
in a corner between the engine and the ice box, explained and was
permitted to adjust his rumpled attire. Whereupon all went out to the
dripping cockpit and watched the land appear slowly before them out of
the gray void. It was like watching the development of a negative in the
dark-room. At first there was a blank expanse of gray. Then a shadow
appeared, dark and formless. Then a bit of the low-lying shore stood out
boldly, its colors still blurred by the dissolving mist. And presently
the sun appeared in the west, a hazy orange disk at the end of a funnel
of orange light. And then, in an instant, the fog was nowhere to be seen
save that here and there on an inland hillside a wisp of gray, like a
floating veil, hung entangled amidst trees or bowlders. And with the
returning sunlight came a brisk breeze from the south that stirred the
oily surface of the water into tawny ripples that began to lap
cheerfully against the hull of the _Vagabond_. Dan started to whistle
blithely.
A few minutes later the launch was speeding back across the bar, bound
for the little cove where they had left Tom. That young gentleman's fate
had not greatly bothered his friends, although there had been throughout
the day much idle speculation as to his probable whereabouts. Tom could
look after himself, said Dan, and the others agreed. But when they
reached the cove and the little beach with the blackened embers
disfiguring the clean gravel and saw no Tommy they were at once
surprised and disappointed. Bob was even inclined to be indignant.
"Where the dickens has he gone to?" he asked. "He might have known we'd
be back for him as soon as the fog cleared away."
"Well, I suppose we could hardly expect him to spend the day here
waiting for us," said Nelson. "Probably he found a house where he could
get dry and have something to eat. As we can't see any from here maybe
he had to go quite a ways. We'll wait a while and see if he doesn't turn
up."
"Bet you he's asleep in the best bed in the house," laughed Dan. "We'll
be lucky if he turns up before to-morrow noon. Tommy's just as likely as
not to sleep the clock around if there's nobody there to wake him up!"
"I suppose," said Bob, "we might as well have something to eat while we
wait." But Dan demurred.
"No, let's go back to New London and get a good feed. We'll wait until
six-thirty and if he doesn't show up by that time--Say, maybe he's gone
back to New London himself!"
"I'll bet he has," Nelson agreed. "Let's go and see."
So they returned up the broad twilit stream and made their former berth
near the ferry slip. A hasty toilet followed and then they hurried up
the street to the hotel. But no Tommy awaited them. The clerk assured
them that no one answering to the description which they gave had been
seen that day. Nor did the register show Tom's elegant handwriting. But
after the first moment of disappointment they comforted themselves with
the assurance that the missing member of the crew was quite safe
somewhere, and went in to dinner. Nor did anxiety over Tom's fate
interfere with their appetites.
Up until bedtime they expected at any moment to see Tom stumble down the
steps, and when, at half-past nine, lights went out it was unanimously
decided to leave the hatch unlocked in case he should turn up during the
night. Once, along toward morning, Bob was dimly aware of some one
moving about the cabin.
"That you, Tommy?" he asked sleepily.
But if there was any answer he didn't hear it, for he fell asleep again
immediately. In the morning, in the act of yawning and stretching his
arms over his head, he recollected the noise in the night and looked
inquiringly at Tom's bunk. But it hadn't been slept in. Bob puzzled over
this fact for a moment. Then----
"Where's Tom?" he asked.
"How the dickens do I know?" asked Dan, sitting up in his berth.
"Didn't he come back last night? I heard some one and I thought sure it
was Tommy."
"That was me," said Nelson, opening his eyes. "You asked if it was Tommy
and I said No. I was closing the ports. The wind and rain were just
drowning me out."
"Rain!" exclaimed Bob and Dan simultaneously. Then----
"Gee, what a storm!" muttered Dan, as he subsided after a glance through
the nearest port. "I see where we stay in New London for a day or two."
"Well," said Bob philosophically, "it's better to be here than tied up
in some little old cove along the Sound. We can go ashore, at least."
"That's so," agreed Dan. "And maybe there'll be another show at the
theater."
During the night a heavy gale from the southwest had sprung up and now
the rain was beating fiercely against the cabin sides and playing a
tattoo on the roof. There was a stiff wind behind it and the waves were
running high. Under the double assault the _Vagabond_ was heaving at her
lines and grinding dismally against the pier. Nelson, pulled on his
oilskins and hurried out to see that the fenders were in place. In a
minute he was back, wet and glistening.
"It's a peach of a storm, all right," he said, shedding his oilskins.
"The old sailors along the Cape used to tell us that a storm from the
southeast was good for three days and one from the southwest was soon
over. But it doesn't look like it now."
It was so dark in the cabin that when Bob brought the breakfast to the
table it was necessary to light the lamps in order to distinguish the
scrambled eggs from the hashed brown potatoes. But it was very jolly to
sit there with the fragrant steam from the coffee cup curling up past
their noses and hear the rain rattle and sweep against the boat and see
it go trickling down the port lights. Barry sat on the edge of a bunk
and stared solicitously at Dan every time the latter raised his fork to
his mouth. Dan would never feed him at table, but all of the others did
so whenever they thought they would be undetected. Bob believed he saw a
chance to transfer a half a slice of bread and butter from his plate to
Barry's mouth, but Dan interposed a quick hand and the bread went flying
across the cabin to land face downward on Tom's pillow.
"If Tommy was here," laughed Nelson, "I know what he'd say."
"'Hope you ch-ch-ch-choke!'" mimicked Nelson. "Barry can have it now,
can't he, Dan?" he continued, as he rescued the bread and wiped the
worst of the grease from the pillowcase with his napkin.
"After we're through," said Dan inexorably.
"Hard-hearted brute!" said Bob. "Why don't you change masters, Barry?
I'd be dre'ful good to you!"
"Wonder if Tommy's getting any breakfast," observed Nelson thoughtfully.
"Of course he is," answered Dan, buttering another piece of bread. "Why,
look at the time! He's had two or three breakfasts by this!"
"It's funny, though, that he doesn't turn up," said Bob. "If we don't
find him to-day I think we ought to do something."
"What?" asked Dan disconcertingly.
"Advertise in the Lost and Found column of the local paper," suggested
Nelson.
"We ought to go back and look for him," said Bob.
"But we did look," Nelson expostulated. "If he wasn't there last night
it isn't likely he'd be there to-day."
"He might have gone somewhere and spent the day," said Bob. "Then maybe
he'd expect us to come back to the cove for him this morning."
"Well, he isn't likely to wait for us long in this storm," commented
Dan. "And we couldn't get down there very well, anyhow. I hope he's
keeping dry and warm, wherever he is, but I do think he was a silly ass
to get lost again. This is the third time since we got together."
"Second," said Bob.
"Third. Don't you remember how we lost him in Boston the day we bought
things for the boat? And found him sitting in the cockpit eating
caramels when we reached the wharf?"
"That's so," laughed Nelson. "If we were detectives all we'd have to do
would be to go to the candy stores and describe him."
"Wherever he is," said Bob, "I suppose he doesn't know whether we've
returned to New London or gone on to New Haven or somewhere else."
"All he has to do is to go back to the place we left him," said Dan.
"And if he ever does come back I vote we forbid him to leave the boat
alone. We'll never get anywhere if we have to stop all along the way and
look for him."
"Well," said Nelson, "we'll go up to the hotel again after a while and
leave word for him in case he comes there to inquire."
"It would be just like him to jump a train and go home to Chicago,"
observed Dan.
"Don't believe he has money enough," Nelson replied.
"He probably didn't have any with him," said Bob. "He had his ducks on,
didn't he?"
"No, he wore that old gray suit of his," Dan answered. "But I guess
you're right about the money. I doubt if he had a cent."
"Well, he'll manage all right," said Nelson cheerfully. "He has plenty
of cheek, you know. If he doesn't show up by afternoon we'd better go
and have a look for him just as soon as the weather will let us. We'll
run back to the cove and go ashore. He's probably in some farm-house
around there."
Just before noon they wandered up the wharf and across the tracks to the
station, for want of anything more exciting to do, and stood on the
platform for a while watching the trains come and go. Finally Bob said:
"Come on, fellows; if I stay here any longer I'll just have to get on a
train and go somewhere!"
"That's what I'm going to do," said Dan resolutely. "I'm going to New
York."
"What?" exclaimed the others.
"I might as well. We can't get out of here before to-morrow and I can be
at home by three, spend the night and get back here by nine or ten
to-morrow. Do you fellows mind?"
"Of course not," answered Nelson.
"You see, I haven't seen the folks since the Spring recess," said Dan.
"And I'm only three hours from New York, and----"
"Guess I'll take a run up to Portland," said Bob with a smile.
"And I'll go with you as far as Boston," said Nelson.
"If you really rather I wouldn't go--" began Dan.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Nelson. "We don't mind. Go ahead. It's a good
scheme. But mind you don't forget to come back!"
"Not likely! I'll be here to-morrow forenoon. Come on over to the boat
and help me put some things in a bag. There's a train in about twelve
minutes."
A quarter of an hour later only Bob and Barry and Nelson remained. They
had seen Dan off on the Bay State Limited and were on their way to the
hotel for luncheon, the skirts of their oilskins wrapping around their
legs and impeding progress at every gust of the wind that tore up the
street. They weren't particularly hungry, but the hotel promised more
excitement than the launch on a day like this. After luncheon they went
to the writing room and wrote letters to everyone they could think of,
Bob supplementing the letters with a number of souvenir post cards. They
killed three hours quite easily and went back to the _Vagabond_ at four
o'clock. The rain had slackened considerably, but the wind still blew
hard and gustily. The dark, leaden clouds which closed down upon the
world showed no signs of breaking. They spent the rest of the afternoon
as best they might, each rather dispirited and decidedly bored. At
half-past five Bob went out and bought supplies for the larder and
cooked dinner aboard when he returned. Neither he nor Nelson was very
hungry and the meal was rather a silent one. After the things were
cleared up they tried to read, but even that didn't satisfy their
restlessness, and when, at a little before nine, Bob wandered out to
look at the weather and came back with the information that the moon was
almost through the clouds and that the rain had ceased entirely and to
the proposal that they take a walk Nelson assented eagerly. They got
back into their oilskins and thick shoes, locked the door behind them
and started out.
"Gee," said Nelson, "I feel as though I could walk a hundred miles!"
"So do I," answered Bob. "My legs feel positively rusty. Let's have a
good long tramp. I'm not the least bit sleepy."
"Nor am I. Which way shall we go?"
"It doesn't matter. Let's turn down here. It's no more muddy than any
other street, I guess." So they left the main street behind, turning to
the left onto a dimly lighted road which led southward. Overhead the
moon gleamed fitfully from between masses of somber clouds. The rain had
ceased and the air felt warmer than it had all day. They struck out
lustily, splashing through unseen puddles and leaving the town behind
them in a jiffy.
"This is something like," grunted Bob, as he recovered himself from a
stumble over a tree root.
"Yes," Nelson laughed. "If you don't break your neck, there's nothing
like walking, after all. Remember the dandy times we had last summer."
"Well, we've had pretty good times this summer, too, so far," replied
Bob. "Only, I wish Tommy would show up. I'm beginning to get worried
about him. If he doesn't come back to-morrow we ought to write to his
folks, or telegraph, maybe, and see if he's with them."
"Oh, tommyrot!" said Nelson. "He wouldn't go home. Besides, he didn't
have money enough. He's around somewhere having a good time. I dare say
he thinks he'll get back at us for running away from him."
"Maybe, but how does he know we won't go off without him?"
"Well, he knows that he wouldn't if he was in our place, and doesn't
expect us to."
"I suppose that's it. Hello!"
"What?"
"Rain."
"That's so. And our friend the moon has retired again. Say, how far from
town do you suppose we are?"
"Two miles and a half, maybe."
"More like three and a half, I'll bet! Shall we turn back?"
"I suppose so, but I'm not nearly walked out. Maybe it'll stop raining
again in a minute. If there was some place we could go out of the drip
for a while----"
"There's a light over there."
"Yes, but it's a half mile away," answered Bob. "And blest if I know how
we'd get to it. Let's keep on for a bit. It isn't raining very hard.
Besides, we can't get much wet."
So they went on, quickening their pace and watching each side of the
road for shelter. A minute later the rain began in earnest.
"Aren't we a couple of idiots?" laughed Nelson.
"Oh, I don't know; this is more fun than being cooped up in that little
old cabin back there. My, but it is coming down some, isn't it? What's
that ahead there? A house?"
They broke into a run and headed for the dark object in question. It
proved to be a tumble-down shed standing back from the road some five or
six yards. It was unlighted and their groping hands encountered only a
hasp and padlock.
"Locked," grunted Bob.
"Not a bit of it," answered Nelson, lifting the padlock out of the
staple. "They knew we were coming." They pulled one of the folding doors
open and slipped inside. "Who's got a match?" Nelson asked.
"I guess I've got some somewhere," answered Bob. "Yes, here we are."
In the tiny light they saw that the building had at one time been a
blacksmith's shop. The forge and bellows stood in front of them and the
floor was littered here and there with old iron. That the roof was not
in the best of repair was evidenced by the numerous puddles on the
floor.
"How many matches have you got?" asked Nelson as the light flickered
out.
"Three or four. Why?"
"Don't light any more yet," was the reply. "I saw a piece of paper over
in the corner there. If it's dry maybe we can have a fire and be
comfortable." Nelson crossed the floor, stumbling over discarded wagon
tires and old bits of iron, and finally found what he was after. The
prize, several sheets of newspaper, was quite dry, and he found his way
back to the forge with it. "Now let's have a light, Bob," he said. "And
we'll see if we can find some splinters or something." Luck again
favored them, for a piece of soft pine board was leaning against the
side of the forge, and while the match held out Nelson whittled
diligently with his knife. Afterwards, in the darkness, he gathered
paper and whittlings together in the center of the old fire bed, found
some likely feeling bits of charcoal and coke and demanded another
match.
"Aye, aye, sir," answered Bob. Then, "_Thunder!_" he exclaimed.
He had scratched it on a damp place and the head had rubbed off without
lighting.
"Was that the last?" Nelson asked anxiously.
"No, one more. You'd better do it, Nel." And Bob handed the precious
match over to him.
"If this goes out, too--!" muttered Nelson.
"What's the matter?" asked Bob presently.
"The blamed thing hasn't any head on it," answered Nelson disgustedly.
"I've scraped it and scraped it and--oh, pshaw, it's a toothpick!"
"Hang!" remarked Bob feelingly.
"And just when I had a fire all ready! Look through your pockets again,
Bob. Maybe you'll find another." There was a minute of silence during
which each searched from pocket to pocket, broken finally by an exultant
exclamation from Bob.
"Here's a piece of one!" he cried. "And it's the business end, too.
Who's going to scratch it?"
"Me," answered Nelson. "I know where the paper is. Hand it over. All
right. Now here goes!"
The match lighted and Nelson quickly tucked it under the edge of the
paper. There was a breathless moment and then success was assured. The
paper was in flames and the splinters were crackling merrily. Nelson
seized knife and wood again and frantically split off long pieces to
feed the flames.
"See if you can't find some more wood, Bob," he said. "Here, light one
of these pieces and look around."
Armed with the small torch Bob explored.
"Fine!" he exclaimed presently from a distant corner of the shed.
"Here's a whole box. Part of it's kind of damp, but I guess the rest
will burn."
He brought it over and knocked it to pieces and soon there was a
generous fire flaring up from the old forge. Nelson seized the bellows
and found that they still worked, though somewhat wheezily. "Sounds as
though it had the asthma," he said. Presently the coke caught, too, and
when they could leave the fire they rummaged the place from end to end,
finding enough fuel of various sorts to last them all night if
necessary. A gunny sack in a corner held a few quarts of charcoal, there
was a loose beam which came away readily under Bob's persuasion, and a
small box which had once held horse shoe nails was discovered under one
of the windows where it had done duty as a cupboard. They took off their
oilskins and wet shoes, placing the latter near the flames where they
soon began to steam prodigiously.
"Wish we had something to sit on," lamented Nelson.
"That's easy," Bob answered. "Here's this old anvil over here. If we can
get it to the fire it will do finely."
After several minutes of the hardest sort of work they managed to edge
it over to the forge. Then they sat down on it, very close together of
necessity, and puffed and blew like a couple of porpoises.
"How long are we going to stay here?" asked Nelson, tossing another
piece of wood on the flames.
"I don't know. Until it holds up a bit, I suppose. Listen to it now,
will you?"
The rain was pouring down on the roof like a hundred waterspouts.
"We could sleep here if we had to," said Nelson.
"I suppose so," Bob answered dubiously, "but I guess I'm a little bit
like Tommy; I have a weakness for mattresses and bedding. If----"
He broke off suddenly and together they turned toward the door which was
squeaking back on its rusty hinges. In the opening there appeared a dark
form which, while they stared blankly upon it, shuffled into the shed
and closed the door behind it.