A QUEER STORY
For a moment the boys did not know what to do--or what to say. Jerry
confessed, afterward, that he feared the lone sailor might be a
lunatic--made mad by his sufferings in the storm and wreck--and the
tall lad reasoned that it would hardly be safe even to parley with him.
Ned and Bob also admitted they felt much the same way. As for Professor
Snodgrass, no sooner had he come aboard, than he saw a new kind of bug,
and so intent was he on its capture that he paid no further attention
to the boys or the sailor, either.
“Well, what do you want?” again growled the latter, advancing in what
seemed a menacing way toward our friends. “Are you trying to get in
ahead of me?”
Jerry was the first to speak.
“We came here to look for friends,” spoke the tall lad. “We’re not
trying to get in ahead of you, or anything like that. In fact we didn’t
know that you, or anyone, was aboard. We are seeking friends--perhaps
you can tell us something about them?”
“Ha! That’s a likely yarn!” sneered the sailor. “Tell that to the
marines! What do you want here, anyhow?”
“I tell you we are looking for friends,” repeated Jerry. “They are the
uncle and cousin of Bob Baker, here. We are looking for a Mr. Nelson
Sheldon and his daughter Grace, who came from Germany on this ship. Can
you tell us what became of them?”
At the sound of the names the sailor started. The iron bar dropped from
his hand, and a different look came over his face.
“Is that true?” he cried. “You’re not stringing me; are you? Is that a
straight yarn?”
“It certainly is,” said Jerry, a trifle stiffly, for he did not like
this talk, nor was he in the habit of having his word doubted. “We
live in Cresville, not far from Boston. We heard of this wreck--it was
reported by wireless in the papers--and we came in our airship to see
if we could pick up any survivors, hoping to find Mr. Sheldon and his
daughter among them. We were much surprised when we saw the steamer
still afloat. If you like you can look over the side and see our
aeroplane--the _Comet_.”
The man did not answer. But he did do as Jerry suggested. He went up
on deck and looked over to where the craft of the air floated on the
waves, made fast to the _Hassen_. Then the sailor, smiting his thigh
with his palm, making a sound like a pistol shot, cried:
“Well, I’ll be hornswoggled! Avast and belay! Davy Jones himself
couldn’t beat this! And you came out here in that?”
“We surely did,” said Jerry. “Now do you believe us?”
“I guess I’ll have to,” said the sailor. “I ask your pardon, mates,
but you see I’m naturally suspicious. I’ve been through a deal of
hardships, like, and this is my first chance to make some money. I’m
going to get this ship to port if I can, and claim salvage.”
“But what about the Sheldons?” asked Bob, eagerly. “Were they aboard?
Are they drowned? What has become of my uncle and cousin? If they’re
not here we’ll have to go in search of them.”
“Easy, son, easy!” exclaimed the old sailor, in gentle tones. “Once
more I asks your pardon for the way I received you folks. I didn’t mean
anything by it. And to think that I acted that way toward friends of
Mr. Sheldon--after all he did for me! It’s too bad!”
“Then he was here?” asked Bob, eagerly.
“He was, son, he and his daughter. But they’re not here now--nobody
stayed but myself, though it would have been better for all hands if
they had. The old _Hassen_ is tight yet.”
“But where are they--where is my uncle?” cried Bob, a little impatient
at the man’s long-winded talk.
“They went off in one of the small boats,” said the sailor. “Sit ye
down, lads, and I’ll tell you all about it. Sit ye down. Oh, but it’s
good to see friends again! I’ve been lonesome these last days, just
drifting along. Sit down and I’ll spin you the yarn in proper fashion.”
“We can’t stay long,” said Jerry, foreseeing a lengthy tale. “If our
friends aren’t here we must go aloft and search for them. They may be
suffering.”
“I don’t doubt but what they are,” returned the sailor, in a low voice.
“They went off in an open boat, and there wasn’t much time to put water
and provisions aboard. But I won’t keep you long. I’ll tell you what
happened then--at the time of the storm--and since. Your friends may
not be as far away as you think.”
“Where? Where are they?” cried Bob, eagerly.
“I’ll tell you, lad. I’ll tell you, only I have to do it in my own
way,” said the sailor, and Jerry made his stout chum a sign not to
interrupt if he could help it. That would be so much time gained.
The man told, as briefly as he could, how they had sailed from
Germany, and had had, until near the close of the voyage, fine weather.
Mr. Sheldon and his daughter, Grace, were among the passengers, and the
sailor, who gave his name as Jacob Denton, came to know Bob’s uncle
quite well, from having rendered him a slight service.
Then one day there had been a fire drill, and the sailor, through some
mistake, had been in danger of severe injury by the slipping of a rope.
Mr. Sheldon, who was standing near him, acted promptly, and saved
him. This made Jacob Denton very grateful, and it was no wonder that
he regretted the rather surly way in which he had greeted Bob and his
chums.
“But I thought you had come to take away my right to salvage,” said the
sailor. “You know, if a vessel is deserted, and someone picks it up at
sea, or if he stays aboard, and brings her to port, he is entitled to
salvage--that’s a certain percentage of her value and the value of the
cargo. If I get mine I’ll never go to sea again.”
“Then I hope you get it,” said Jerry. “But what happened to Mr. Sheldon
and his daughter?”
“I’ll tell you,” resumed the sailor. “As I said, we had good weather,
and it looked as though we would make port without a hitch. Then came
the storm, and everything went wrong.
“For a while our captain held on, and then, when the wind got worse,
we plunged and pitched about until there was almost a panic among the
passengers. Of course it was a bad storm, but I’ve seen worse, and I
didn’t mind it so much.
“Then came a report that we were sinking, and a cry to man the small
boats. Some water did come into the engine room, when the ship started
some of her plates, but the bulkhead doors were closed and there
wasn’t really much danger. But you know how it is when you’re at sea
in a storm. It doesn’t take much water inside a ship to scare the
passengers, and sometimes the crew, too.
“Things went from bad to worse. Then it really came on to blow hard,
and the captain didn’t know what to do. He saw it would be risky to
launch the small boats, but more water came in, and the passengers
fairly demanded to be set adrift. So the captain had nothing else to do.
“Some of our small boats were smashed, but we managed to get the others
over the side--them and some life rafts, and everyone but I took to
them--the captain and crew as well as the passengers.”
“Did Mr. Sheldon and his daughter go?” asked Bob eagerly.
“They did, son. I helped them stock their boat, which was one of the
small ones. It was No. 7, but it was a good craft, and seaworthy. They
went in that.”
“And you didn’t go?” asked Ned.
“No. Mr. Sheldon wanted me to, but I saw that he had a couple of good
sailors in his boat, and I said I’d take my chance staying on the old
_Hassen_. I’m glad now that I did. I wanted more under my feet in a
storm at sea than the inch planking of a small boat. So I stayed--I
wish the others had, too,” he added in rather gloomy tones.
“Don’t--don’t you think my uncle has any chance?” Bob asked.
“Yes, son, a chance--a bare chance. I didn’t think so until last
evening, but I did then.”
“Why then?” asked Jerry curiously.
“Because I saw him again--he and his daughter in the small boat!” was
the unexpected answer.
“You saw them?” cried Bob. “Where?”
“Near this ship. They were drifting about--they’d lost their oars, I
guess, and the current set them back here. I saw them plainly, but I
couldn’t get to them, and they couldn’t get to me. Then a fog came
up and I lost them. But I saw them right off there,” and the sailor
pointed to the port side of the wrecked ship.
“Then let’s go in search of them!” cried Bob. “Come on, Jerry, before
it’s too late.”
“All right,” agreed the tall lad. “Is that all?” he asked of the sailor.
“About all, lad. After all the boats had gone off in the storm I
stayed aboard here. Plenty of ’em wanted me to come in their boats,
but I knew I’d be safer here. And I was. The storm blew itself out
and--here I am.”
He paused a moment and added:
“Where the others are--who knows? Maybe Davy Jones.”
“But you think Mr. Sheldon and his daughter have a chance; don’t you?”
asked Jerry quickly.
“Yes, son. They weathered the storm, that’s sure, for I saw them
afterward off to the eastward in their small boat.”
“Just those two?” Ned wanted to know.
“Just them two. Probably them as was in with ’em had been washed
out, or leaped overboard. Sometimes they do that in a storm--they
get half-crazed, like. The oars, too, must have been lost or else
Mr. Sheldon would have rowed over to me. As it was I saw him and his
daughter plainly. They waved to me, and then the fog shut them out.”
“But we’ve got a chance to save them--and we’re going to!” cried Bob.
“Come on, fellows!”
The old sailor quickly concluded his story.
“When the storm passed,” he said, “I managed to get steam up in one of
the pumping engines, and I cleaned out the engine room. But one man
can’t work the machinery, so I’m just letting her drift. I’m going to
get up a bit of a sail, if I can, to give her steerage way, and then
I’ll make for the nearest port. If I can fetch it my salvage money will
make me rich.”
“Hadn’t you better let us take you in our airship,” suggested Jerry.
“We have plenty of room, and you could hire a tug and get the _Hassen_
to port more quickly.”
“What! Trust myself in an airship? I guess not!” cried the old sailor.
“I’ll stick here, thank you just the same. And I hope you find your
uncle, son,” he said to Bob.
“If we do, we’ll come back and get you,” promised Ned.
“I may be in port ahead of you,” was the sailor’s answer. “Once I get
up a bit of sail I can make pretty good speed. I’m sorry I was so surly
when you came aboard. I was below, studying out what to do, and I sure
thought I had been boarded by some parties that wanted to cheat me out
of my prize.”
“We were surprised to find anyone aboard,” said Jerry. “If you like
we’ll help you raise a sail. I guess we can spare that time.”
“Surely,” said Bob. “Now that we know about where to look for my uncle
it won’t be such a puzzle.”
A sail was quickly rigged up on one of the stumps of the wireless
masts, and then, bidding the lone sailor good-bye, and promising to
look for him in case they should be successful in their quest, the boys
and Professor Snodgrass boarded the _Comet_ and prepared to start off.