A STORMY TIME.
Like his father before him, Ralph had always liked the water. He was
perfectly familiar with the handling of all manner of small craft, and, had
it paid, would have liked nothing better than to follow a life on the
lakes.
But situations on the water which brought in a fair remuneration were
scarce in the vicinity of Westville, and so the boy did not attempt a
search for employment in that direction.
The half-day's job before him suited him exactly, and, after leaving
Martinton, he settled back with his hand on the tiller and his eyes on the
sails in great satisfaction.
"I wouldn't mind owning a boat like this," he thought, as the swift little
craft cut along through the water. "Perhaps I might do very well taking out
pleasure parties during the summer."
Inside of half an hour Martinton was left far behind. Then Ralph noted that
the fair sky was gradually becoming overcast.
"I wonder if we are going to have a blow," he soliloquized. "It more than
half looks like it."
About quarter of an hour later the breeze died out utterly. This was a bad
sign, and the boy prudently lowered the jib and took a couple of reefs in
the mainsail.
Presently came a low rumble of thunder from the southeast, and the sky grew
darker and darker. There was no longer any doubt that a severe
thunderstorm, preceded possibly by a squall, was close at hand.
Unwilling to take any risks in a boat not his own, Ralph lowered the
mainsail entirely. Hardly had he done so when a fierce wind swept up the
lake--a wind that presently raised itself almost to a hurricane.
The lightning began to flash all around him, followed by crash after crash
of thunder. The water was churned up in great violence, and he was
compelled to crouch low in the craft lest he be swept overboard and
drowned.
Driven by the wind, the boat moved across the lake, until Ralph grew
fearful that she would be driven up on the rocks and made a complete wreck.
At the risk of losing some canvas, he let out the mainsail a bit and
steered from the shore.
The rain came down by the bucketful, and it did not take much to soak him
to the skin. There was no way of protecting himself; he must take it as it
came. Fortunately it was warm, so he did not suffer so much as he might
otherwise have done.
A half-hour passed, and Ralph was just congratulating himself that the
worst was over, when a cry came out of the gloom to his left.
He strained his eyes in the direction, and after a few moments caught sight
of an immense hay barge bearing down upon him. The hay barge had been towed
by a steam tug, but the rope had parted, and the barge was now drifting at
the mercy of the wind and current.
There was a man on the hay barge, thoroughly frightened, and it was he who
was crying for assistance.
"Hullo, there! What's the matter?" cried Ralph, as he steered clear of the
moving mass, for the hay barge was loaded to the water's edge.
"Help me!" cried the man. "I am all alone on this barge."
"Where is the tug?"
"I don't know. I fancy she struck on a rock, for we lost our reckoning, and
ran too close to shore."
"I don't see how I can help you," returned Ralph. "My boat won't budge that
big barge."
"Then take me on board, will you?" returned the man, with a shiver. "I
ain't used to being out in the wind and rain."
"Yes, I'll take you in. Wait till I run up behind."
As best he could, Ralph swung his own craft around, and came up under the
stern of the hay barge. The man ran from the side, and lowered himself onto
the bow seat.
"There! I'm all right now," he said, as he stumbled back to Ralph's side.
"What a beastly storm!" he went on.
"It is. What are you going to do about the barge?"
"I don't care what becomes of her," growled the man. "I was only a
passenger on the tug, and went on the barge for fun. Let the captain pick
her up as best he can."
"But you want to find the tug, don't you?" asked Ralph, in some surprise.
"Not if you will put me ashore. Where are you bound?"
"Westville."
"That will suit me first rate. Take me there, and I'll pay you the passage
money instead of the tug captain."
"I'll take you there without pay," said Ralph.
At that moment a steam whistle sounded close at hand, and presently they
beheld the steam tug, with the captain on the forward deck, gazing
anxiously ahead.
"There she is!" cried the man Ralph had picked up.
"We'll call to the captain, and let him know where his hay barge is,"
replied Ralph.
He accordingly hailed those on the steam tug. Soon the craft was close
beside him.
"Your barge is off in that direction," said Ralph, pointing with his hand.
"And I am here, captain, and going to stay here," put in Ralph's passenger.
"No more hay barges for me."
"Don't you want to come on the tug?"
"No."
"All right then, suit yourself."
And the next moment the steam tug shot out of sight, in the direction in
which the hay barge was drifting.
The storm now let up a bit, and Ralph was able to take a good look at the
fellow beside him. He was a tall, strong-looking chap, with sharp black
eyes, and a heavy head of dark hair. He wore a long mustache, and there was
a slight scar directly in the center of his forehead.
"What's your name, youngster?" he asked, presently, as Ralph let out the
mainsail.
Ralph told him.
"Mine is Dock Brady. I am a surveyor from Utica. Do you follow this sort of
thing for a living?"
"No, sir."
"Just out for pleasure, eh?"
"Hardly that; I am returning the boat to Westville for a friend."
"Oh, I see." Dock Brady mused for a moment. "Westville is quite a place, I
believe," he went on.
"Not so very large, sir."
"Larger than Silver Cove, though?"
"Oh, yes--twice as large."
"Quite a few summer boarders, eh?"
"Back of the village, yes. There are no folks stopping in the village
itself."
"No, but that helps to liven up things, of course--buying stuff and mailing
letters."
He paused again.
"Yes, they have to come there for goods, and that makes the stores do very
well. And the post office is a lively enough place at mail times."
"Always is, when there are summer boarders around." The man laughed
lightly. "Can I help you with the boat?" he went on, changing the subject.
"You can hold the tiller while I hoist the jib," said Ralph. "The storm is
over, I guess."
The jib was unfurled and the mainsail let out full, and once again the
little craft went bounding on her way.
Ralph did not take to his passenger's appearance, and said very little
during the remainder of the trip. The man also relapsed into silence, as
if resolving some scheme in his mind.
Before sundown Westville was reached. At the bridge the man got off, and
tossed Ralph a silver dollar. In a moment more he was out of sight.
Little did Ralph imagine under what exciting circumstances he and Dock
Brady were to meet again.