CHAPTER VII.

ADRIFT IN THE STORM.

At the same instant the sloop staggered and heeled over, sending Hiram

half across the dingy cabin. He caught at a stanchion and saved himself.

Then he turned his amazed gaze afresh on Tubby. The stout youth stood by

the companion stairs, regarding him with a grin. Presently he actually

began to hum:

"A life on the ocean wave!

A home on the rolling deep!

"Yo ho, my hearties," he added, with a nautical twitch at his breeches,

"we're going to have a rough day of it."

As if in answer, the sloop heeled over to another puff. A tin dish,

dislodged from the rusty stove, went clattering across the inclined cabin

floor. But still Hiram stood gaping vacantly at Tubby.

"Well, what's the matter?" inquired that individual cheerfully, "have you

lost that voice of yours?"

"No, b-b-b-but I thought you were badly wounded!" Hiram managed to

sputter.

"So I was, but in reverse English only," said Tubby cheerfully; "the

bullet just nicked me and knocked the breath out of me for a minute. When

I came to, I saw that the best thing I could do was to act like Br'er

Rabbit and lay low."

Hiram looked his admiration.

"Wa-al," he drawled, dropping, as he seldom did even in emotional

moments, into his New England dialect, "ef you ain't ther beatingist!

"But, say," he added quickly, "what about that red stain on your shirt?

Look, it's all over the front of your uniform."

"Jiggeree, so it is. I guess that fountain pen of mine must have been

busted cold by that bullet. I had it filled with red ink, because I'd

been helping Rob fill out some reports to mail to Scout headquarters. Ho!

ho!" the fat boy broke into open mirth, "it certainly does look as if

some one had tapped my claret. Yo-ho! that was a corker!"

The sloop lurched and dipped deeper than ever. They could see the green

water obscure the port hole for an instant.

"That sea's getting up right along," said Tubby presently, as he unbound

Hiram's hands. "Say, Hiram," he added anxiously, "you don't get seasick

easily, do you?"

"N-n-n-no, that is, I don't think so," sputtered Hiram rather dubiously.

"Well, don't, I beg from my heart! Don't get seasick till we get on land

again."

"I'll try not to," said the downeast boy seriously, ignoring the fine

"bull" which Tubby's remark contained.

"Reminds me," said Tubby presently, "of what the sea captain said to the

nervous lady. She went up to him and told him that her husband was scared

of getting seasick. 'My husband's dreadfully liable to seasickness,

captain,' she said. 'What must I tell him to do if he feels it coming

on?' 'You needn't tell him anything, ma'am,' said the captain; 'no need

to tell him what to do--he'll do it.'"

But somehow this bit of humor did not bring even a wan smile to Hiram,

willing as he usually was to laugh at Tubby's whimsical jokes. Instead,

he turned a pale face on his companion.

"I--I--do feel pretty bad, for a fact!" he moaned.

"Oh, Jiminy Crickets!" wailed Tubby, "he's going to be seasick!"

Hiram, with a ghastly face of a greenish-yellow hue, sank down on one of

the lockers, resigning himself to his fate. The sloop began to plunge and

tumble along in a more lively fashion than ever. Overhead Tubby could

hear the trample of feet, as her crew ran about trying to weather the

blow.

Suddenly, above the howling of the wind, Tubby heard a sharp click at the

companionway door. The next instant the companionway slide was shoved

back and a gust of fresh, salt-laden air blew into the close cabin.

Stonington Hunt's form was on the stairway the next moment, and Tubby,

with a quick dive, threw himself on the floor in a corner, carrying out

once more his r├┤le of the badly wounded scout.

Lying there, and breathing in a quick, distressed way, Tubby, out of the

corner of his eye, watched the man as he moved about. Hunt's first idea

was evidently to rouse Hiram. Perhaps he needed him to help in navigating

the storm-buffeted craft. But he soon gave up the task of instilling the

seasick lad with ambition or life. Then came Tubby's turn, but after

bending over the fat boy for an instant, Hunt muttered:

"He's no good," and without offering to aid the supposedly injured boy,

moved away. He ascended the steps and presently the companion slide

banged to, and the padlock clicked once more.

Tubby arose, as soon as he was convinced the coast was clear, and,

despairing of arousing Hiram, sat on a locker and began to think hard.

Rather bitterly he went over in his mind the circumstances leading to

their present predicament. In the first place, he could not but own he

had had no business to embark on such an enterprise at all without a

bigger force. In the second place, if he had lived up to the Scouts'

motto of "Be Prepared," there was a strong possibility that they would

not have been so disastrously precipitated through the roof of the lonely

hut. However, before long, Tubby's naturally buoyant temperament asserted

itself. As became a boy who had won a first-class scoutship, he did not

waste any further time on vain regrets. Instead of crying over spilled

milk, he began to figure on finding a way out of their predicament.

Casting his eyes about the cabin, he suddenly became aware of a small

door in the bulkhead at the forward end of it. Curious by nature, Tubby

opened it, and peered into a dark, cavernous space. A strong odor of

gasoline saluted his nostrils, and presently--his eyes becoming used to

the light--he could make out the occasional glint of metal. In a flash he

realized that this was the engine-room of the sloop, and housed her

auxiliary motor.

A button-switch being made out by the boy at this moment, he turned it.

Instantly two incandescent lights shone out, illuminating the place. By

their light Tubby made out another door beyond the motor. Determined to

investigate the sloop thoroughly--come what might--he thrust it open, and

found himself in what seemed to be the hold. But it was too dark to

perceive much. Besides, the sloop was pitching and rolling so terribly

that the lad had all he could do to hold on.

Returning to the engine-room, he almost stumbled across an electric torch

secured to a bracket on the bulkhead. It was evidently used for examining

the motor without exposing an open light to the fumes of the gasoline.

Armed with this, Tubby once more investigated the hold. It was a

capacious place. Stanchions, like a forest of bare trees, supported the

deck above. So far as the boy could make out, the place was empty. Far

forward was a ladder leading up to a hatchway. Tubby, following out his

naturally inquiring bent of mind, was about to examine this, when his

heart gave a great bound and then stood still.

He had not thought to cast a glance behind him in his eagerness to

examine the hold.

This had proved to be a fatal bit of oversight on his part, for

Stonington Hunt and his son, descending to the cabin for some purpose,

had observed his absence. A brief investigation showed them the open door

into the engine-room and thence they had glimpsed the flash of Tubby's

torch.

The boy turned, warned by some instinct, just as they tiptoed up behind

him. Freeman Hunt, with a grin on his face, rushed straight at the Boy

Scout. But Tubby was prepared this time, at any rate. He dashed the

torch, end down, on the floor of the hold, extinguishing it instantly. At

almost the same instant, he rushed straight at the place where he had

last seen Freeman Hunt.

To his huge satisfaction, he felt the other go down in a sprawling heap

under his onrush. As he fell, Freeman gave a shout of:

"He ain't wounded at all, dad! He was fooling us!"

"Yes, the brat! He was!" shouted Stonington Hunt, blundering about in the

black hold and striving to keep his footing on the pitching, heaving

floor.

Tubby, guided by instinct, dashed forward toward the spot, as nearly as

he could judge its location, where he had noticed the ladder. He found

it, and had placed his foot on the bottom rung, when there was a sudden

shock.

The motion of the sloop seemed to cease, as if by magic. Tubby felt

himself hurled forward into darkness by the shock. His head crashed

against something, and a world of brilliant constellations swam in a

glittering array before his eyes. Then something in his head seemed to

give way with a snap, and young Hopkins knew no more.

The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp · 第 7 / 25 章