A ROW ON SHIPBOARD
"Do you know, I think we are going on the wildest kind of a goose
chase," said Tom, the next day, to his two brothers.
"Why?" questioned Sam.
"Because we are depending, in large part, on what Bahama Bill has to
tell, and he's the worst yarn spinner I ever ran across."
"It's true that he is a yarn spinner," said Dick, "but behind it all
father says he tells a pretty straight story of how the treasure was
stolen and secreted on Treasure Isle."
"I want to see the island, and the treasure, too, before I'll believe
one-quarter of what that sailor says," replied Tom.
"Well, we'll soon know the truth of the matter," came from Sam. "If
this good weather continues we ought to get to where we are going
inside of ten days. Of course, if we are held up by fogs or storms it
will take longer."
The boys, and the girls, too, for the matter of that, were greatly
interested in the elegant steam yacht, and they took great pleasure in
visiting every part of the vessel from bow to stern. Captain Barforth
did all in his power to make all on board the _Rainbow_ feel at
home and whenever the boys visited the engine room they were met with a
smile from Frank Norton.
But if they had friends on board there were also some persons they did
not like. The first mate, whose name was Asa Carey, was a silent man
who rarely had a pleasant word for anybody. He hated to have young
folks around, and it was a mystery to the Rovers why he should occupy a
position on a pleasure craft.
"He ought to be on a freight steamer," was Dick's comment--"some boat
where he wouldn't meet anybody but those working under him. I can't
understand how the captain can bear him for his first assistant."
"The owner of the steam yacht hired him," answered Mr. Rover. "I
believe the captain does not like him any more than we do. But the mate
does his duty faithfully, so the captain cannot find fault."
Another individual the boys did not like was Bill Bossermann, the
assistant engineer. Bossermann was a burly German, with the blackest of
hair and a heavy black beard and beady black eyes. He had a coarse
voice and manners that put one in mind of a bull. Hans tried to get
friendly with him, but soon gave it up.
"He vos von of dem fellers vot knows it all," explained Hans to his
chums. "He makes some of dem, vot you call him--bolitical talks, yah.
He dinks eferypotty should be so goot like eferypotty else, und chust
so rich, too."
"Must be an Anarchist," said Tom. "He looks the part."
"Norton told me he was a first-class engineer," said Dick, "but when I
asked him if he was a good fellow he merely shrugged his shoulders in
answer."
One day the first mate was in command, the captain having gone below to
study his charts and work out the ship's position. Tom had brought a
baseball to the deck and was having a catch with Sam. The boys enjoyed
the fun for quite a while and did not notice the mate near them.
"Can you throw it up over that rope?" asked Sam, pointing to a stay
over his head.
"Sure thing!" cried Tom.
"Look out you don't throw it overboard."
"I'll take care," answered the fun-loving Rover, and launched the
baseball high into the air. Just then the steam yacht gave a lurch, the
ball hit the mainmast, and down it bounced squarely upon Asa Carey's
head, knocking the mate's cap over his eyes and sending him staggering
backwards.
"Hi, hi! you young rascals!" roared the mate. "What do you mean by such
conduct?"
"Excuse me," replied Tom, humbly. "I didn't mean to hit you. It was an
accident."
"I think you did it on purpose, you young villain!"
"It was an accident, Mr. Carey--and I'll thank you not to call me a
rascal and a villain," went on Tom rather warmly.
"I'll call you what I please!"
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I will. I am in command here, and I won't have you throwing
baseballs at me."
"I just told you it was an accident. If the yacht hadn't rolled just as
I threw the ball it would not have hit you."
"Bah! I know boys, and you especially. You love to play tricks on
everybody. But you can't play tricks on me." And as the mate spoke he
stopped, picked up the rolling ball, and put it in his pocket.
"Are you going to keep that ball?" demanded Sam.
"I am."
"It is our ball."
"See here, Mr. Carey, we didn't mean to hit you, and we were only
amusing ourselves catching," said Tom. "We have hired this yacht and we
have a right to do as we please on board so long as we don't interfere
with the running of the vessel. I want you to give us our ball back."
And Tom stepped up and looked the mate squarely in the eyes.
"What! you dare to dictate to me!" roared the mate, and raised his hand
as if to strike Tom. He thought the youth would retreat in fear, but
Tom never budged.
"I am not trying to dictate, but I have rights as well as you. I want
that ball."
"You can't have it."
"If you don't give it to me I shall report the matter to Captain
Barforth."
At this threat the mate glared at Tom as if he wanted to eat the boy
up.
"If I give you the ball you'll be throwing it at me again," he growled.
"I didn't throw it at you. But as for catching on the deck--I shall ask
the captain if that is not allowable. I am quite sure it is, so long as
we do no damage."
"Going to sneak behind the captain for protection, eh?" sneered Asa
Carey. He did not like the outlook, for that very morning he had had
some words with the commander of the steam yacht and had gotten the
worst of it.
"I want that ball."
The mate glared at Tom for a moment and then threw the ball to him.
"All right, take your old ball," he muttered. "But you be mighty
careful how you use it after this or you'll get into trouble," and with
this the mate walked away.
"Are you going to speak to the captain?" asked Sam, in a low tone.
Tom thought for a moment.
"Perhaps it will be better to let it go, Sam. I don't want to stir up
any more rows than are necessary. But after this I am going to keep my
eye on that fellow."
But if the lads did not mention it to the captain they told their
brother and their chums of it, and a long discussion followed.
"I noticed that the mate and the assistant engineer are quite thick,"
observed Fred. "It seems they were friends before they came aboard."
"And they are two of a kind," remarked Dick. "I feel free to say I do
not like them at all."
It was growing warmer, and for the next few days the girls and the boys
were content to take it easy under the awnings which had been spread
over a portion of the deck. Once the lads amused themselves by fishing
with a net and bait, but were not very successful. In the evening they
usually sang or played games, and often Songbird would favor them with
some of his poetry. For the most of the time Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs.
Laning did fancywork.
"Captain says there is a storm coming up," announced Sam, one evening.
"Oh, dear! I hope it doesn't get very rough!" cried Mrs. Stanhope. "I
detest a heavy storm at sea."
"Well, mamma, we'll have to expect some storms," said Dora.
"Oh, I shan't mind, if it doesn't thunder and lightning and blow too
much."
But this storm was not of the thunder and lightning variety, nor did it
blow to any extent. It grew damp and foggy, and then a mist came down
over the ocean, shutting out the view upon every side. At once the
engine of the steam yacht was slowed down, and a double lookout was
stationed at the bow, while the whistle was blown at regular intervals.
"This isn't so pleasant," remarked Songbird, as he and Dick tramped
along the deck in their raincoats. "Ugh! what a nasty night it is!"
"No poetry about this, is there, Songbird?" returned Dick, grimly.
"Hardly," said the poet, yet a few minutes later he began softly:
"A dreadful fog came out of the sea,
And made it as misty as it could be.
The deck was wet, the air was damp----"
"It was bad enough to give you a cramp!" finished up Tom, who had come
up. "Beautiful weather for drying clothes or taking pictures," he went
on. "By the way, I haven't used my new camera yet. I must get it out as
soon as the sun shines again."
"And I must get out my camera," said Songbird. "I have a five by seven
and I hope to take some very nice pictures when we get down among the
islands."
"How do ye like this sea fog?" asked a voice at the boys' rear, and
Bahama Bill appeared, wrapped in an oilskin jacket. "It puts me in mind
of a fog I onct struck off the coast o' Lower Californy. We was in it
fer four days an' it was so thick ye could cut it with a cheese knife.
Why, sir, one day it got so thick the sailors went to the bow an'
caught it in their hands, jess like that!" He made a grab at the air.
"The captain had his little daughter aboard an' the gal went out on
deck an' got lost an' we had to feel around in that fog nearly an hour
afore we found her, an' then, sure as I'm a-standin' here, she was next
to drowned an' had to be treated jess like she had been under water."
"How long ago was that?" asked Tom, poking the other boys in the ribs.
"Seven years ago, this very summer."
"I thought so, Bill, for that very summer I was at Fort Nosuch, in
Lower California. I remember that fog well. One of the walls of the
fort had fallen down and the commander was afraid the desperadoes were
going to attack him. So he had the soldiers go out, gather in the fog,
and build another wall with it. It made a fine defence, in fact, it was
simply out of sight," concluded the fun-loving Rover.
"Say, you----" began Bahama Bill. "You--er--you--say, I can't say
another word, I can't! The idee o' building a wall o' fog! Why,
say----"
What the old tar wanted to say, or wanted them to say, will never be
known, for at that instant came a loud cry from the bow. Almost
immediately came a crash, and the _Rainbow_ quivered and backed.
Then came another crash, and the old sailor and the boys were hurled
flat on the deck.