MR. WHYLAND.
“My stars! what’s the matter with the ship?” asked Gus, as Oliver
entered the stateroom.
“We are going to have a storm,” was the reply; “it’s raining already.”
“Then maybe we will go to the bottom,” groaned Gus. “Or else we’ll turn
clear over, see if we don’t.”
He had been feeling just a trifle better, but now he was worse. From
looking green he was deadly white, and he shook from head to foot.
“I wish I could do something for you,” said Oliver kindly, for at least
the fiftieth time. “But I don’t know of a thing that will help you.”
“It’s a punishment for running away, I suppose. I’ll never be well
until we reach land again.”
“Oh, nonsense! You’ll feel all right as soon as this storm clears off.”
Gus made no reply. Oliver remained in the stateroom for a while, and
then ventured above to take another observation.
As he stepped on deck a violent gust of wind blew a man’s hat directly
toward him. He made a dive for the tile and captured it.
“Hello, there! got it?” sang out a voice, and an instant later the
gentleman who had told Oliver that a storm was coming rushed up.
“Yes, sir; here you are.”
“Thanks. My, but this is rough, and no mistake!” The gentleman jammed
the hat tightly over his head. “Just look at those waves over there!”
And he pointed over to the starboard where the water appeared to be
mountainous in its height.
“I trust we will get through in safety,” said Oliver with a shudder. “I
have no desire to go to the bottom of the sea.”
“Nor I,” laughed the gentleman. “Traveling alone?” he went on curiously.
“I have a schoolmate with me――that is, we met on board.”
“That very stout young man?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ah, yes, I see. Rather young to be traveling alone. I am glad to meet
you. My name is Thomas Whyland. I suppose we shall be thrown together
quite some during the voyage.”
“Are you going to San Francisco?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m glad to have met you,” said Oliver with a smile. “I do not
know a soul but my chum. My name is Oliver Bright.”
The two shook hands. Mr. Whyland appeared to be a pleasant gentleman,
and Oliver thought they would be friends. He did not dream how well
acquainted they were destined to become.
“Where is your chum now?” asked Mr. Whyland.
“In the stateroom, sick.”
As Oliver spoke a tremendous wave broke over the deck, wetting both him
and Mr. Whyland. A moment later one of the deck-hands came forward with
word that all the passengers had been ordered below.
“That means us too,” said Mr. Whyland. “Come, let us adjourn to the
cabin.”
It was with difficulty that they descended the companionway. When
half-way down Oliver slipped, and had it not been for his friend would
have rolled to the bottom.
In the cabin they found a motley crowd assembled――mostly passengers who
were too frightened to retire to their staterooms. Amongst them was the
head steward and two other officers, trying all they could to quiet the
fears that were expressed.
“Nothing unusual, sir,” said the steward to Oliver; “I’ve passed
through a dozen of ’em.”
“Excuse me; one is enough,” laughed the boy; “and you may depend upon
it I will never forget the experience.”
He and Mr. Whyland took a seat well forward, and began to talk over the
prospects. Presently Oliver felt a hand on his arm, and turning, saw
Gus standing beside him.
“Hello! what brought you out?” he exclaimed.
“I didn’t want to drown alone,” replied the stout boy. “We’re all going
to the bottom, do you know it?”
“The officers of the boat say not,” returned Oliver. “They say it is
quite an ordinary storm.”
“I call it a most extraordinary, howling, rambunctious cyclone,” said
Gus. “I’m expecting the ship to turn clear over any moment.”
Oliver introduced his companion to Mr. Whyland, and their mutual
sympathy soon placed them on the plane of friendship. But Gus was too
sick to remain long, and before a great while retired again to the
stateroom, whither he was presently followed by Oliver.
“What do you think of Mr. Whyland?” asked the latter.
“Very nice man,” returned Gus. “I’d like him still better if he would
only order this storm to stop. Creation! it seems to me I’d give all
I’m worth to be on land once more!”
“Then you don’t think you would care to be a sailor, to sail the briny
deep?” asked Oliver with a smile.
“Sailor!” Gus uttered the word in deep disgust.
“Yes. It’s a splendid life――at least so the novelists say.”
“Humph! I guess those novelists never saw the blue and black water, or
they wouldn’t put down any such nonsense! No, sir! this is my first and
last trip on the flowing sea. As Paddy said, ‘The next time I ship I’ll
travel be land!’”
“Which means that when you return home you’ll do so overland.”
“If I’m ever allowed to return home, which I very much doubt, if this
confounded storm keeps up.”
“Oh, it isn’t so bad, Gus.” Oliver mused for a moment, while Gus turned
on the berth with a groan. “I wonder if Mr. Whyland is acquainted in
San Francisco.”
“Why?”
“If he is, he may be able to give me considerable information about the
place.”
“It isn’t likely that he ever heard of this Colonel Mendix.”
“Oh, I suppose not; but he will know about the mining exchange and all
that, and that is what I must learn about. They must know something of
Mendix. He couldn’t keep that mine a secret so long out there.”
“Suppose you can’t find out a single thing in San Francisco, what then?”
“It will be a disappointment, but I shall not give up. I will make a
hunt up the river upon which it is said to be situated. Sooner or later
I am bound to stumble upon a clew.”
“I admire your grit, Olly. You deserve success.”
“And I’ll obtain it, mark my word, Gus.”
During the afternoon, instead of abating, the storm grew wilder. The
sky became even blacker than before, and all the lanterns were lit. The
wind shrieked through the rigging and across the deck, and everything
that was loose and light was carried over the rail.
Seated on the edge of the lower berth the two boys talked in a low
tone. Sleep was out of the question, and, as Gus expressed it, somehow
speech made them more courageous.
“We must be near Cape Hatteras,” said Oliver. “If we――”
He did not finish the sentence, for at that instant a terrible shock
was felt that sent both boys sprawling to the other side of the
stateroom. There was a crashing and a tearing, and they heard piercing
cries of alarm. What did it mean?