STEVE SAVES THE CAPTAIN
FORTUNATELY for Steve Rush the load scooped up by the unloader, chanced
to be a light one, only a few tons being in the scoop itself. That left
him head room so that he was not crushed against the upper side of the
giant shell. Still, his quarters were cramped and the sensation was, if
anything, more trying than had been that when he found himself alone in
the waters of Lake Huron.
"I'm done for this time, I guess. Hello, there! Stop the machine! I'm
caught!" he shouted.
In the groaning and creaking of the great crane his cries for help were
unheard. Steve felt himself being borne swiftly through the air. Up, up
swung the great shell, swaying dizzily from side to side after it left
the deck of the ship. As it passed out of the hold Steve uttered a shout
louder than the others. He was not frightened, but, as was quite natural
under the circumstances, he wanted to get out of his unpleasant
predicament.
Bob Jarvis, who was at the rail, heard the cry. He divined the truth
instantly. Springing to an open hatch he leaned over, bellowing out the
name of his companion into the hold. There was no response. Bob did not
believe there would be.
"Stop it! Stop it!" he shouted.
It is doubtful if the crane man heard, and if he did he failed to
understand, for the big shell kept on mounting to the top of the
trestle.
"What's the matter!" demanded the mate. "You're enough to raise the
dead."
Jarvis did not stop to answer. He sprang for the side of the ship,
leaped over the rail, and, catching the sides of the ladder, shot down
to the pier without touching a single rung of the ladder. The instant
his feet touched the pier the lad darted off to the trestle. A cleat
ladder extended up the side of the trestle to the top. Bob ran up it
like a real sailor and rushed over the ties to the place where the train
was being loaded for the furnaces.
In the meantime, Steve Rush had been hoisted to the top. He knew what
was coming. The lad braced his feet and shoulders against opposite sides
of the scoop, hoping thereby to hold himself in place. He had forgotten
that the shell would open up at the proper moment in order to discharge
its load--would open up so wide that not even a fragment of anything
would be left within it.
Suddenly the great jaws of the shell opened with a crash and a bang.
There followed the roar of rushing iron ore as it dropped into the
waiting ore car on the track.
Rush dropped like a stone. He landed in the railroad car, half buried
under the ore, dazed and bleeding from the sharp pieces of ore that had
hit him on the head during his descent.
"Hey there, stop it, stop it!" shouted Jarvis, running toward the spot
as the crane was swinging the scoop off toward the ship for another
load.
"Stop what?" demanded the foreman of loading.
"You've dumped a man from that scoop! Which car was it?"
The foreman laughed easily.
"I guess you must be crazy."
"Which car is it, I say? Answer me quick. He may be killed, or----"
"That's the car right there, the last one filled and----"
But Bob was bounding toward the place with desperate haste.
"Steve! Steve!"
"Ye-yes, I'm IT again," answered a muffled voice, dragging himself from
the ore, shaking the dirt from him.
"Look out for the shell! It'll be on you again before you know it,"
warned Jarvis. He had heard the creaking and groaning of the machinery,
sounds, which told him the big scoop was on its way upward again with
still another load of the red ore.
Rush staggered to the edge of the car.
"Jump!" commanded Bob.
Steve did so, not knowing where he would land, but with perfect
confidence in his companion's presence of mind. No sooner had the lad
cleared the car than a load of ore was dumped on the spot where he had
been standing but a few seconds before.
Bob grunted as the heavy body of Steve Rush landed full in his arms,
causing the former to sit down heavily on the trestle with the dirt from
the dumping shell, showering over them.
"Good for you, Bob! You saved my life. Let's get out of this place."
"I am perfectly agreeable to that. How do we get down?"
"There are two ways. One is to jump off and the other is to go down the
ladder. The latter is the way I'm going. Perhaps you prefer the other,
judging from your past performances as the horsemen would say. You have
made some pretty good records as it is."
Bob made for the ladder, followed by Steve. When the two boys climbed
over the rail to the deck of the ship, the first mate gazed at them in
astonishment.
"I thought you were down in the hold, Rush."
"So I was," laughed the boy.
"What did you come out for?"
"I couldn't help myself. I went up in the scoop, which caught me when
the lights went out down there. Something is the matter with your
electric arrangements down there, I guess."
Mr. Major gasped.
"You don't mean you went up in that thing?"
"I guess I do."
"He got dumped on an ore car," added Jarvis by way of explanation. "And
he lives to tell the tale."
"Get down in the hold. The ship is listing to port. They are taking too
much out on that side. Jarvis, you run back and tell the engineer to
have his electrician find out what is the matter with the lights in the
hold. Look out for yourself, Rush, this time. I am beginning to think
you are a hoodoo."
"And I am beginning to hold the same opinion," answered the Iron Boy.
"If you keep on we won't be able to get a sailor to ship on the same
craft with you."
"I don't know that I should blame them much for feeling that way.
Trouble is tied to my heels, but somehow I manage to get through on a
pinch," laughed the boy, hurrying for the stairway that led down into
the entrance to the ore hold.
The ship was fully unloaded at midnight. All hands were dirty, dusty and
tired when they started aft to wash up and get ready for bed.
"Where's that soogy barrel?" yelled one of the deck hands, meaning the
receptacle holding hot water, well soaped, from which the men filled
their basins for washing.
"It's down in the engine room being steamed out. There's another one
down in the lazaret. We'll fetch it up and have it filled before those
lubbers down below get the old one ready."
"We'll help," cried Steve. "Come along, fellows. I guess the whole crew
ought to be able to get the barrel up without calling any of the dock
hands to help us."
They started away, laughing, and the barrel was hoisted from the lazaret
or storeroom near the stern of the vessel, quickly filled from a
hot-water pipe and a good portion of the contents distributed among the
men.
In another hour all hands save the anchor watch were sound asleep, the
captain with the stoicism of the sailor, sleeping as soundly as the
rest, notwithstanding the fact that he might wake up in the morning
shorn of his command, a disgraced man.
Instead, on the following morning the "Wanderer's" master received a
message from Duluth ordering him to report immediately for a hearing. He
was instructed to bring with him certain men of his crew. There was no
time to be lost. Without waiting for breakfast the captain ordered Mr.
Major, the first mate, the Iron Boys and the wheelman on duty at the
time of the collision to make ready to accompany him to Duluth at once.
The message further stated that the ship would be taken to Duluth for
survey and repairs by a master who was then on the way to Conneaut.
The party got away within a few minutes, the second mate being left in
charge, and thirty minutes later they were on their way to the north.
The examination took place that evening immediately after the arrival of
the officers and men from the "Wanderer."
The examination was to be a strictly company examination, but the
government officers in charge of the licensing of pilots on the Great
Lakes were on hand to listen to the testimony and to decide whether
further investigations were necessary. Mr. Carrhart and the
superintendent of the line of steamships belonging to the company were
present to take an active part in the investigation.
Captain Simms was the first witness called. He gave his version of the
accident, explaining the position of the ship, the course it was sailing
on at the time and all other facts in his possession. The fact that he
was on duty at the time, and that the ship was sailing under reduced
speed, was a point in his favor, though it did not by any means serve to
relieve him of the responsibility for the accident.
"Who was on the bridge at the time of the accident?" asked Mr. Carrhart.
"Stephen Rush. Jarvis was on watch in the forepeak."
"We will hear Rush next," said Mr. Carrhart.
The Iron Boy was called in from an adjoining room, where the witnesses
had been placed. When a witness finished his testimony he was permitted
to sit down in the room and listen to the proceedings. This Captain
Simms did. Steve took his place in the witness chair.
"You were on the bridge watch on the night that the 'Wanderer' collided
with the 'Macomber,' were you not?" asked the superintendent, who was
conducting the examination.
"Yes, sir."
"State what occurred."
Steve, in a clear, firm voice that carried conviction with it, related
briefly and tersely all that he knew of the collision. He omitted his
experience in drifting ashore, but a few questions from Mr. Carrhart
served to draw out that most interesting recital. All hands listened
attentively.
Each face, as the narrative proceeded, expressed silent admiration for
the wonderful pluck and endurance of the Iron Boy. But his hearers did
not feel surprised at what he had accomplished after they had studied
the firm set of the lips, the square-cut jaw and the clear, steady eyes.
"You had sighted the side lights of the 'Macomber' some time before the
collision, had you not?"
"Yes, sir; about half an hour before the crash came, I should say,
roughly speaking."
"What was the position of the two ships?"
"I don't know that I can explain it so that you would understand. I can
draw a diagram of it if you wish."
"Do so."
Rush quickly outlined the position of the two ships on a pad of paper
and handed it to his questioner.
"Do you know what the course of your ship was?"
"Not so that I could name it. I would know if I had a compass--I mean I
could point it out."
The superintendent called for a compass card, which a clerk brought from
his office. Steve studied it a moment, turning the card around until he
had placed it in the desired position.
"This is where we were, up to the time the fog came down and we couldn't
see anything more," he said, placing a finger on a point on the card.
"But you were on the bridge. How could you know this?" demanded the
questioner.
"I was watching the bridge compass, trying to learn something about it.
You see, this is my first experience on a ship and I was anxious to
learn all I could."
"Then your course was south-south-west-one-half?"
"I don't know, sir. The little mark on the compass rim was on the point
that I have indicated, previous to the time the fog settled."
Thus far the lad's testimony had corroborated all that the captain had
said.
"Have you had any talk with Captain Simms as to what you should testify
to?" interrupted one of the government representatives.
"Certainly not, sir," answered the boy flushing. "Captain Simms is not
that kind of man. He expects me to tell the truth, and that is what I am
trying to do."
"We understand that, Rush," interposed Mr. Carrhart, soothingly. "You
are giving us some valuable information. The gentlemen merely wish to
get at all of the facts."
"Now, Mr. Rush, let me understand this clearly. You say that the course
was south-south-west-one-half just before the fog settled?"
"Yes, sir, if that is the course indicated by that point," again placing
his finger on the compass card.
"Am I to infer then that the course was changed after the fog came
down?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah!"
The spectators straightened up at this. Their faces were grave. An
important piece of evidence had been brought out. It might be against
Captain Simms, or it might be in his favor. All depended upon the boy's
further testimony.
"What was the course after the change?"
Steve again pointed to the card.
"We swung over to this point."
The superintendent and the government representatives examined the point
indicated by Steve very carefully.
"South-south-west flat?"
"If that is it, yes sir."
"Captain, you may answer where you are. Did you change your course as
indicated by Rush?"
"I did. The boy is right. He hasn't eyes in his head for nothing. He
sees more than any one else on my ship does."
"Did you think what the reason for that change of course was?" demanded
the superintendent, again turning to Steve.
"I thought it was to make sure that we should clear the other ship."
"Yes; according to the position of both vessels, the 'Macomber' had the
right of way," interjected the captain. "I changed the course to clear
them, and I should have done so. I don't understand, yet, why I did
not."
"Why did you not tell us of this in your testimony?"
"I did not think of it."
"Even though it was in your favor?"
The captain nodded.
The captain of the lost "Macomber" was called in.
"What course was your ship steering when the collision occurred?" he was
asked.
"I supposed it was the course as indicated on the report made by me."
"You were in your cabin asleep?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who was on duty in the pilot-house?"
"The mate and the wheelman."
"They were lost?"
"They were."
"You know of no reason why they should have changed their course so as
to throw your ship squarely in front of the 'Wanderer'?"
"No earthly reason."
"They were thoroughly capable and experienced men?"
"Yes, so far as my observation went."
"You admit that the course of your ship was changed, do you not?"
"If what the young man and Captain Simms say is true, our course must
have been changed. I cannot but think the mate must have lost his head,
or else failed to note the position of the compass while he was busy
peering ahead. That is probably the explanation, the wheelman forgetting
himself in looking ahead also. He knew there was a ship under their
bows; both knew it and they were naturally anxious."
"You would not have mentioned this had not the young seaman Rush brought
it out?"
"I might not have, because I did not know it. It puts the matter in an
entirely new light."
"You admit, then, that your vessel was in the wrong?" interposed one of
the government officials.
"I am obliged to, granting that the statements we have heard are
correct, and I have no idea that they are not. While I am responsible
for the safety of my ship, I do not see how I can be held accountable
for the disaster. I did not know there was a fog and no word was brought
to me to that effect. A man must get sleep at some time, and what better
time than when the skies are fair and the sea is calm?"
The officials cleared the room, after which they went into executive
session with the government men. Their discussion lasted little more
than half an hour. The two captains were then sent for, the witnesses
being allowed to enter the room also.
"Captain Simms," announced the superintendent of the steamship line, "we
find you free from all blame in this matter. You did all that you could.
You let your ship swing off sufficiently to have cleared the 'Macomber';
you were under reduced speed, and you were at your post where you should
have been under the circumstances. Besides this, you and your crew did
heroic service in rescuing the men of the ill-fated ship. You lost two
of your own men in so doing and nearly lost a third. Especial credit is
due to Seaman Robert Jarvis, who bravely saved several lives at the risk
of losing his own. As for you, Captain," he added, addressing the master
of the "Macomber," "I am sorry to say that we shall have to lay you off
for sixty days. While you were not physically responsible for the loss
of your ship, you are morally responsible. Had you been at your post,
and had there been no errors of judgment on your part, you would have
been freed from blame. At the expiration of your suspension you will no
doubt be assigned to another ship. The government officials here concur
in both decisions. They agree that Captain Simms is wholly blameless for
the disaster."
Captain Simms did not smile. His face was grave. He was sincerely sorry
for the other captain. He knew how easy it was for a man to lose his
place in the line through no immediate fault of his own. Simms himself
might have been in the position of the other man had it not been for one
keen, honest, observant boy.
"Gentlemen, I wish to say a word," announced Mr. Carrhart, rising. "I
wish to say that this board owes a vote of thanks to Seaman Stephen
Rush."
"We do," assented several voices at once.
"I know Mr. Rush and his friend Jarvis very well, and I have watched
their careers for the last two years. They always do well whatever is
set before them to do. Had it not been for Rush's very explicit
testimony--for his keen observation, we probably should not have gotten
at the facts, and a great injustice might have been done to Captain
Simms, though that would have been largely his own fault. Captain Simms,
you will proceed to Detroit in the morning and take charge of the
'Richmond,' our new steel, ore-carrying steamer, which is ready to go
into commission at once. I presume you will take these two young men
with you on the new boat?"
"I certainly shall if they will ship with me," answered Captain Simms
promptly. "I wish I had some more men like them. Even half as good men
would do very well."
The captain stepped across the room and grasped Steve by the hand.
"I owe this whole business to you, Rush, and you bet I won't forget
it!"