A CRASH IN THE DARK
“Are we getting any closer?”
The question came from Randy after at least a quarter of an hour had
passed in their eager chase after the distant steamer which was moving
slowly, leaving a long trail of black smoke in the air behind it.
“We don’t seem to be making much progress,” answered Jack, dubiously.
“What do you think, Ralph?”
The former major of the Colby Hall battalion shook his head while his
face showed his disappointment.
“I’m afraid she’s getting away from us.”
“That’s jest how it looks to me,” burst out Ira Small. “Guess she’s one
o’ them fast boats runnin’ from South America to New York.”
“Can’t we make some kind of a signal to her?” asked Fred. “Why not hang
a flag out upside down, or something like that?”
Several flags were stowed away in one of the lockers, and now Old
Glory was brought forth, and this several of the lads took turns in
waving wildly, keeping the stars at the bottom.
The steamer was a goodly distance away, and it is doubtful if a
signal could have been seen without the aid of a glass. As it was,
no attention was paid to the motor boat, and presently the big liner
passed out of sight in the distance.
“Good-bye to our first hope,” remarked Spouter, mournfully.
“And may we have better luck next time,” said Fred, hopefully.
Slowly the remainder of the day wore away. A little after noon they
prepared a dinner of baked beans, canned corn and a few strips of
bacon, washing this down with a little more coffee. They did not dare
make very much of the beverage because they wished to save their water
supply.
“We’ll have to cut out coffee altogether if we don’t sight something
to-morrow,” warned Jack.
Toward evening they saw a sail in the distance. But night was coming
on and the sail soon disappeared in the darkness, and they found
themselves alone as before.
“Don’t look as if I was ever goin’ to see them thirteen rocks an’ ketch
sight of the pirates’ gold,” murmured Ira Small, dolefully. For the
time being his high spirits seemed to have deserted him.
“I should think you’d be awfully sleepy, Small,” remarked Jack. “Why
don’t you turn in and see if you can’t get a good night’s sleep? You’ve
had hardly a wink since the night before we left the _Hildegarde_.”
“Think I will turn in, if you fellows kin git along without me,”
answered the old sailor. “If anything unusual turns up, jest call me,”
and he retired to the cabin and was soon snoring lustily.
“He certainly is a character,” remarked Gif. “But I guess his heart is
in the right place.”
“He certainly proved himself our friend,” returned Jack. “If it hadn’t
been for him, we might still be aboard the schooner. It would have been
useless for us to cut loose in the motor boat without the gasoline and
the grub.”
“Do you think there is anything to his story about the thirteen rocks
and the pirates’ gold?” questioned Andy. Tales of piratical treasure
had always appealed to the fun-loving Rover.
“There may be something in it, Andy. Certainly the pirates existed. And
if they got all the loot the books tell about, they must have either
spent it or else hidden it somewhere.”
“Yes, but as far as I have ever heard, the great majority of the
searches for pirates’ treasures have been dead failures,” broke in
Spouter. “I know, only a few years ago, a company was organized up in
our neighborhood to look for a treasure said to be buried off the coast
of Brazil. The promoters wanted my father to take stock in the concern,
but he refused. The crowd got together and went down to Brazil in a
steamer and spent two or three months looking for the gold, but didn’t
find a single doubloon.”
“Well, sometimes a treasure hunt proves a success,” said Jack. “Don’t
forget how my father and Uncle Tom and Uncle Sam went down to the West
Indies and located the Stanhope treasure.” He referred to a great
treasure search, the particulars of which have been given in the volume
entitled, “The Rover Boys on Treasure Isle.”
“Yes, you told us about that, Jack,” answered Spouter. “And I’ve
heard the particulars from my father, too. You know, he was with the
expedition.”
“Let’s get the particulars of this treasure from Small,” said Randy.
“We might organize an expedition just as our folks did,” he added, his
eyes glistening for the moment.
The boys took turns at steering the _Fancy_, and thus the greater part
of the night wore away. Just as it was growing light in the east Fred,
who was at the wheel, uttered an exclamation of dismay.
“What’s the trouble, Fred?” questioned Randy, who was coming out of the
cabin to relieve him.
“The motor just went dead.”
“Perhaps she’s out of gasoline. Wait a minute till I take a look at the
tank.”
An inspection of the gasoline tank of the craft showed that it still
contained a quart or more of the volatile fluid.
“It’s in the engine, or else the battery has gone out of commission,”
said Randy.
Not caring to do too much to the engine without consulting Ralph, they
called the young commander of the motor boat, and while Fred continued
at the wheel in an endeavor to head up against the rolling billows,
Ralph and Randy commenced to hunt for the trouble.
The boys were still at this when, a little later, Jack and Andy
appeared.
“Looks to me like another storm,” said Jack, gazing eastward anxiously.
“Yes, and I’d say it was coming up pretty fast,” answered Andy.
Before the motor could be put into commission again the sky was
overcast and the wind began to come in strong, irregular puffs.
Then, of a sudden, it began to rain, the big drops splashing in every
direction on the motor boat and the rolling waves.
“Gee, I don’t like this!” exclaimed Ralph, as he took the wheel from
Fred. “Boys, I think we’re in for it.”
Soon the waves were running much higher than before, and the _Fancy_
bobbed up and down like a cork. It was next to impossible to make
headway in any direction.
“Let me help you at the wheel, Ralph,” suggested Jack. “This is going
to be something awful――worse than that fog we ran into.”
“This is going to be a real storm, no mistaking that,” answered Ralph,
and his face showed his anxiety. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t upset.”
The constant rolling of the _Fancy_ soon aroused Ira Small, and once
awake the lanky sailor came outside in a hurry.
“I was afraid of it,” he said, gazing anxiously at the sky. “I felt it
in my bones yesterday, but I didn’t want to scare none of you lads. I
was hopin’ we could git inshore before it come.”
By eight o’clock the storm was on them in all its violence. The _Fancy_
pitched and tossed so wildly that they could scarcely keep from going
overboard, and Ralph advised that each one don a life-preserver, of
which there was a supply in the forward locker.
“Good idee,” said Ira Small. “Le’s put ’em on, by all means. They may
save our lives.” And so the life-preservers were adjusted by every one
without delay.
With such a storm in progress no one thought of breakfast. For fear of
fire, the oil stove had been put out. Many of the loose articles aboard
the motor boat were either placed in the lockers or lashed fast. But
before this was accomplished the _Fancy_ hit an extra heavy wave, and
this caused some of the canned goods and two of the bottles of water
to bounce up from their resting-place in the cabin, smash two of the
windows, and roll overboard.
“Gosh, this is something awful!” muttered Spouter. “We’ll be lucky if
we ever get out of it alive.”
All day long the storm continued. Occasionally the wind would let up
a little and they would have a breathing spell, for which they would
be thankful. But then the wind would blow as strongly as before, and
they would have to cling fast with might and main while the motor boat
plunged and tossed as if every plunge might be her last. During that
time the boys and the sailor ate a few crackers and drank a little
water, but that was all.
“If only some sort of sail would appear, or a steamer,” sighed Fred,
wistfully.
“Don’t say a word,” groaned Gif, who was a trifle seasick. “I’d give
all I’m worth to be on land again.”
“Same here,” added Spouter, promptly.
As night came on a new peril assailed them. Ira Small was at the
wheel with Andy aiding him when, of a sudden, Ralph, who was somewhat
forward, let out a yell of alarm.
“Steer to the left!” he called. “Quick! We’re running into a mass of
wreckage!”
As quickly as possible, Ira Small turned over the wheel of the motor
boat. Then the craft arose to the top of a wave and the next instant
crashed into several good-sized spars and some other wreckage that
floated on the water.
The shock was such that several of the lads were thrown off their feet,
and for the moment all of them thought the _Fancy_ was going to upset.
But Ira Small, bareheaded and with his scant locks flying in the wind
and rain, kept manfully at the wheel, and soon the wreckage was left
behind and the _Fancy_ once more rode on an even keel.
“I’ll say that was some bump,” remarked Spouter, when he could catch
his breath. “Gosh, I thought we were going to the bottom, sure!”
“You fellows better see if we’ve sprung a leak,” called out the lanky
sailor. “Sounded like a bad smash to me.”
As well as the bobbing boat permitted, Ralph and Jack crawled forward
and made an examination of the bow. They found a bad crack just below
the water line through which the water was coming in a thin but broad
stream.
“We’ll have to plug it up, somehow!” cried Jack. “Here, take this
waste! Hold it over the hole until I can get a knife.”
Jack crawled back into the cabin, and soon returned with an ordinary
table knife, and with this Ralph started to plug the waste into the
crack through which the ocean was pouring. It was hard work, and while
Ralph was at this Jack looked for more openings. He found one on the
other side of the motor boat, a small hole into which he presently
pounded one of the bottle corks with the hatchet.
“Looks bad, Ralph,” remarked the young major, when they returned to the
cockpit.
“I don’t know how we’re going to get through the night,” was the
doubtful reply.
Half an hour or more passed, and the storm seemed to grow wilder and
wilder. There was not so much rain, but the wind came in fierce gusts
that blew the spray all over the motor boat and its occupants. To stand
up was impossible, and the lads crouched low, wondering what would
happen next. Ira Small was still at the wheel, and now Ralph went to
his assistance.
Suddenly something dark and menacing loomed up before them. The next
instant the _Fancy_ struck the object with terrific force. Then the bow
of the motor boat seemed to be split into several pieces. The craft
turned over, and the next instant everybody on board found himself
struggling in the ocean.