THE RESCUE ON THE LAKE
For a time the Falcon shot onward through the storm and darkness,
for Tom did not want to give up. With but a single shaded light in
the pilot house, so that he could see to read the gauges and dials,
telling of the condition of the machinery in the motor room, he
pushed his stanch craft ahead. At times she would be forced downward
toward the angry waters of Lake Ontario, over which she was sailing,
but the speed of her propellers and the buoyancy of the gas bag,
would soon lift her again.
"How much longer are you going to stay?" called Ned in his chum's
ear--called loudly, not to be heard above the noise of the airship,
but above the racket of the gale.
"Oh, I guess we may as well start back," spoke Tom, after a look at
the clock on the wall. "We can just about make our camp by daylight,
and they won't see us."
"It won't be light very early," observed Mr. Whitford, looking in
the pilot house from the cabin, just aft of it. "But there is no use
waiting around here any more, Tom. They gave us a false clew, all
right."
"Bless my police badge!" cried Mr. Damon. "They must be getting
desperate."
"I believe they are," went on the custom officer. "They are afraid
of us, and that's a good sign. We'll keep right after 'em, too. If
we don't get 'em this week, we will next. Better put back."
"I will," decided the young inventor.
"It certainly is a gale," declared Ned, as he made his way along a
dim passage, as few lights had been set aglow, for fear of the
smugglers seeing the craft outlined in the air. Now, however, when
it was almost certain that they were on the wrong scent, Tom
switched on the incandescents, making the interior of the Falcon
more pleasant.
The giant came into the pilot house to help Tom, and the airship was
turned about, and headed toward Logansville. The wind was now
sweeping from the north across Lake Ontario, and it was all the
powerful craft could do to make headway against it.
There came a terrific blast, which, in spite of all that Tom and
Koku could do, forced the Falcon down, dangerously close to the
dashing billows.
"Hard over, Koku!" called Tom to his giant.
As the airship began to respond to the power of her propellers, and
the up-tilted rudder, Tom heard, from somewhere below him, a series
of shrill blasts on a whistle.
"What's that?" he cried.
"Sounds like a boat below us," answered Mr. Whitford.
"I guess it is," agreed the young inventor. "There she goes again."
Once more came the frantic tooting of a whistle, and mingled with it
could be heard voices shouting in fear, but it was only a confused
murmur of sound. No words could be made out.
"That's a compressed air whistle!" decided Tom. "It must be some
sort of a motor boat in distress. Quick, Mr. Whitford! Tell Ned to
switch on the searchlight, and play it right down on the lake. If
there's a boat in this storm it can't last long. Even an ocean liner
would have trouble. Get the light on quick, and we'll see what we
can do!"
It was the work of but an instant to convey the message to Ned. The
latter called Mr. Damon to relieve him in the motor room, and, a few
seconds later, Ned had switched on the electricity. By means of the
lazy-tongs, and the toggle joints, the bank clerk lifted the lantern
over until the powerful beam from it was projected straight down
into the seething waters of the lake.
"Do you see anything?" asked Mr. Damon from the motor room, at one
side of which Ned stood to operate the lantern.
"Nothing but white-caps," was the answer. "It's a fearful storm."
Once more came the series of shrill whistles, and the confused
calling of voices. Ned opened a window, in order to hear more
plainly. As the whistle tooted again he could locate the sound, and,
by swinging the rays of the searchlight to and fro he finally picked
up the craft.
"There she is!" he cried, peering down through the plate glass
window in the floor of the motor room. "It's a small gasolene boat,
and there are several men in her! She's having a hard time."
"Can we rescue them?" asked Mr. Damon.
"If anybody can, Tom Swift will," was Ned's reply. Then came a
whistle from the speaking tube, that led to the pilot house.
"What is it?" asked Ned, putting the tube to his ear.
"Stand by for a rescue!" ordered Tom, who had also, through a window
in the floor of the pilot house, seen the hapless motor boat. The
men in it were frantically waving their hands to those on the
airship. "I'm going down as close as I dare," went on Tom. "You
watch, and when it's time, have Koku drop from the stern a long,
knotted rope. That will be a sort of ladder, and they can make it
fast to their boat and climb up, hand over hand. It's the only
plan."
"Good!" cried Ned. "Send Koku to me. Can you manage alone in the
pilot house?"
"Yes," came back the answer through the tube.
Koku came back on the run, and was soon tying knots in a strong
rope. Meanwhile Ned kept the light on the tossing boat, while Tom,
through a megaphone had called to the men to stand by to be rescued.
The whistle frantically tooted their thanks.
Koku went out on the after deck, and, having made the knotted rope
fast, dropped the end overboard. Then began a difficult feature of
airship steering. Tom, looking down through the glass, watched the
boat in the glare of the light. Now coming forward, now reversing
against the rush of the wind; now going up, and now down, the young
inventor so directed the course of his airship so that, finally, the
rope dragged squarely across the tossing boat.
In a trice the men grabbed it, and made it fast. Then Tom had
another difficult task--that of not allowing the rope to become
taut, or the drag of the boat, and the uplift of the airship might
have snapped it in twain. But he handled his delicate craft of the
air as confidently as the captain of a big liner brings her
skillfully to the deck against wind and tide.
"Climb up! Climb up!" yelled Tom, through the megaphone, and he saw,
not a man, but a woman, ascending the knotted rope, hand over hand,
toward the airship that hovered above her head.