CAPTURED BY A MAN-OF-WAR.
The breakfast that the boys found awaiting them was not particularly
inviting, as it consisted principally of a big pot of muddy coffee, a
pan of hardtack, and a dish of cold bacon. Still, they were too hungry
to be dainty, and so pitched into it, with a right good-will.
"My! I should think he had stripped her," said Hal Bacon, gazing about
the dismantled cabin. "It's a shame, too. The idea of carrying lumber in
such a fine craft as this!"
"Yes. Isn't she a beauty?" cried Cracker Bob Jones, admiringly. "I'd
like to cruise in her for a month. If Captain Crotty isn't ready for us,
suppose we offer to help bring her back to the island again."
"I wouldn't mind taking a cruise in her," acknowledged Will Rogers, "if
only Captain Crotty or some other first-class sailor was in charge, but
somehow I can't wholly trust this Mr.--"
"Oh, pshaw, Will!" cried Mif Bowers. "If you aren't the most suspicious
chap I ever knew. The man is trusting us, and I don't see why we
shouldn't trust him. Besides, what could he do, anyhow, against so many
of us? Why, we could take possession of this yacht and run away with her
if we wanted to."
"Who'd sail her if we did?" asked Will, laughing at the idea of his
Rangers turning pirates in that way.
"Why, we would, of course. I rather guess we know enough by this time,
after all the experience we've had, to sail a boat of this size. I know
I would, anyhow."
Just here there came such a tremendous flapping of sails, thrashing of
ropes, and banging of blocks from overhead that the boys made a rush for
the deck to see what was up. To their dismay the cabin doors were not
only closed but locked. In vain did they pound, kick, and shout to be
released. There was no answer to their cries, though the terrifying
racket overhead continued with increasing violence.
"Something serious has happened," shouted Will Rogers, with a very pale
face. "Perhaps Mr. Bangwell has fallen overboard, and a squall has
struck us. Anyway, we must break open these doors."
But the doors were stout, and for several minutes resisted their utmost
efforts. Finally, however, they gave way, and the boys poured on deck.
By this time the alarming noise had ceased, for the yacht, which had
thrown her head into the wind, had again filled away and resumed her
course of her own accord.
The Rangers gazed about them in bewildered amazement. There was no trace
of the man whom they had left on deck, nor of the boat that had towed
astern.
"He must have fallen overboard and got drowned," said little Cal Moody,
in an awe-struck tone.
"He must have deserted us and gone off, though I can't understand why,
nor see where he has gone," answered Will Rogers, as he mechanically
stepped to the wheel and cast off its lashing. "There is something wrong
about this whole business, and we are left in a pretty pickle. Now the
question is what shall we do about it?"
"Go back to the island and wait for Captain Crotty," suggested several.
"Keep on to Newport," advised others.
"But we don't know where it is," objected Sam Ray. "I'd run for the
nearest land."
"And be wrecked again. Not much."
"We could anchor when we got near shore."
"No, we couldn't, 'cause we haven't got any anchor. Don't you remember
we left it behind?"
"That's so. Well, then, let's keep on till we meet some vessel, and then
ask where Newport is."
"We know the course to Newport," suggested Mif Bowers, "for I heard him
telling you, Will."
"Yes," admitted the latter. "He told me that Newport lay east by south
half south, but I don't believe it. In fact I think it lies just the
other way."
"All right, then; let's go that way."
As it seemed to be the general opinion that this was the best thing to
be done, Will Rogers, who was gradually getting the hang of the
unaccustomed wheel, brought the yacht close on the wind, and ordered all
sheets trimmed flat. This much he had learned on board the _Millgirl_.
By thus doing, he could lay a course a little north of east, which he
hoped would take them to the vicinity of Newport.
The others discussed their situation, the disappearance of Mr. Bangwell,
and the probable ending of this most remarkable cruise with unwearied
tongues. They still believed themselves to be good enough sailors to
handle the yacht, and take her anywhere they chose. At the same time
they devoutly hoped that fair weather would hold until they reached some
safe harbor, and earnestly wished for the sight of one.
In the mean time Will Rogers was puzzled to account for his inability to
keep the yacht on her course. She persistently fell off from it, and
seemed to be making leeway almost as fast as she did headway, although a
good breeze was blowing. "There must be a tremendous current," he said
to himself, "and I guess I'd better head the other way."
So, in imitation of Captain Crotty's well-remembered order, he sung out,
"Ready about!" and then put the helm hard down. He did not, however,
remember to slack his head-sail sheets, and none of the others
remembered it for him. The yacht shot up into the wind all right; but
after hanging there for a minute with slatting sails, she gracefully
tilled away again on her former tack. She had missed stays. Again and
again Will tried to get her about, but failed in every instance.
Now, for the first time, the Rangers began to grow alarmed, and to
realize that something was lacking in their knowledge of seamanship.
Their craft would sail all right where she chose to go, but not where
they wanted her to.
"I never heard of a boat acting this way!" cried Will Rogers, finally,
and in utter despair.
"Let me try," said Mif Bowers; and, glad to share his responsibility,
Will released the wheel.
Mifflin met with no better success than Will, and not only that, but
became so badly rattled by a sudden puff that heeled the yacht over
until her lee rail was under water, that he let go of the wheel in
terror, yelling to Will to take it before they were capsized.
Even their hoped-for assistance from other craft failed them; for,
though several, all evidently yachts, approached at different times
during the day, they all sheered off when near enough to distinguish the
signals fluttering from the _Whisper_'s mast-heads.
So the unhappy Sea Rangers, growing more and more terrified with each
passing hour, sailed all day without making any land or being able to
hail a single vessel. By nightfall they were enveloped in a thick fog,
the wind had whipped round and was blowing half a gale from the
eastward, a heavy sea was running, and most of the boys were so
prostrated by sea-sickness that they no longer cared whether they lived
or died. Just before dark Will Rogers and little Cal Moody, who were the
only ones not affected by sea-sickness, lowered all the sails, and
managed clumsily to secure them.
None of the Rangers had ever dreamed of anything so awful as the long
hours of darkness that followed, during which their craft drifted,
rolling and pitching furiously, and utterly at the mercy of wind and
wave. At length, after what seemed an eternity of darkness and terror,
Will Rogers, who, with little Cal cuddled close beside him, was half
dozing with utter weariness in the cockpit, was roused into a sudden
activity by the unmistakable boom of breakers close at hand.
"Hello, fellows!" he yelled, springing to his feet, "tumble up here in a
hurry and make sail or we'll be lost. We're almost on the rocks now!"
This thrilling summons was sufficient to banish even sea-sickness, and a
few minutes later the yacht, under mainsail and jib, was slowly drawing
away from the dangerous though still unseen reef.
Some hours afterwards a hot sun, scattering the sullen fog-bank, poured
its cheery rays over the haggard-looking Rangers, who, in various
attitudes of utter misery, occupied the wet decks of the yacht. All at
once they sprang to their feet with shouts of dismay and terror, for,
out from a low hanging bank of mist, that was slowly rolling away
astern, there came a flash as of lightning, and the thunderous roar of a
heavy gun. At the same moment, as though it had been cloven in twain by
the shot, the fog opened and a United States man-of-war, snow-white and
gleaming in the sunlight, loomed up directly behind them, terrible and
yet grandly beautiful in its on-rushing majesty.
The Rangers gazed at this bewildering apparition in speechless terror,
fully expecting that another minute would see them run down and crushed
like an egg-shell. As the monster dashed up abreast of them, at the same
time slackening her speed with reversed engines, an officer, hailing
from the bridge, demanded to know the yacht's name.
"_Whisper!_" shouted Will Rogers, recovering somewhat his self-control.
"What do you mean by that, you impudent young pirate?" roared back the
officer, angrily. "Why don't you heave to? Heave to, sir, at once, or it
will be the worse for you."
"We don't know how," sang back Will, while all the others trembled in
their bare feet, and almost expected to receive a broadside from the
gleaming guns that grinned at them not a stone's-throw away.
"Then lower your sails and come to anchor, while I send a boat aboard,"
shouted the officer, as the great white ship glided by.
The yacht's crew could not anchor, but they let down their sails by the
run, and a few minutes later were approached by a boat from the
man-of-war, bearing a brass howitzer in its bows, and manned by a lusty
crew of blue jackets.
"Way enough! Oars!" commanded a voice from the stern of the boat, as it
dashed alongside, and at the sound every Ranger was thrilled as though
by an electric shock. In another moment they had rushed forward, and
were overwhelming with their clamorous welcome the younger of the two
officers who had just gained the yacht's deck.
"Mr. Barlow! Sir! I am amazed. What is the meaning of all this?"
demanded the elder officer, sternly.
To this Billy Barlow, Ready Ranger, and naval cadet, just now attached
to the United States practice-ship _Bancroft_, made bewildered answer:
"Why, sir, they are not pirates, after all, but my own schoolmates from
Berks. I know every one of them, and can vouch for their character as
for my own."
"Then, perhaps," said the lieutenant a little less sternly, but still
with a decided trace of suspicion in his voice, "you can explain how
they happen to be in possession of the yacht _Blue Billow_, which was
stolen from her anchorage in the East River by a gang of thieves four
days ago, and run off with the most valuable cargo of plunder ever taken
out of New York city. If you or they can explain this satisfactorily,
well and good. If not, it is my duty to clap them in irons, and convey
them aboard the ship as prisoners."
"I think I can explain the situation to your satisfaction, sir," said
Will Rogers, boldly, "though this is the first we have heard about
thieves or stolen goods."
The officer listened with closest attention to Will's story, and when it
was finished, he said, with a smile: "Well, young gentleman, I am very
much inclined to believe you, and am very glad to be able to carry back
such a favorable report to our commanding officer. Mr. Barlow, you will
remain, with two men, in charge of the yacht. Make sail and stand off
and on within easy hail of the ship."
As soon as the Lieutenant had departed, and Billy Barlow had carried out
his instructions, the naval cadet was overwhelmed by a torrent of
questions from the bewildered Rangers.
Why did he call this yacht _Blue Billow_ when her name is _Whisper_? How
did a man-of-war happen to be sent after her? How did you know where to
find us? etc., etc.
"Because," answered Billy Barlow, laughing, "she belongs to Admiral
Marlin, who has only just built her. He named her after your play, which
he happened to see in Chester; and when she was reported stolen, we got
orders to keep a lookout for her during our cruise down the Sound. We
heard of you yesterday evening from several yachtsmen, who had
recognized your flag; but thinking you were a lot of pirates, had no
desire for a closer acquaintance. It's big luck, though, that I happened
to be along to identify you, for our first luff is in a towering rage at
your supposed insult in telling him to whisper when he hailed you."
The yacht was shortly hailed again, and ordered to follow the _Bancroft_
to the vicinity of the island on which the Rangers had so recently
camped, and which, to their great surprise, they now learned was not
more than a couple of miles away.
As they sailed toward it, with Billy Barlow at the wheel, he asked Will
Rogers how it happened that he had been trying to sail close hauled with
his centreboard up.
"Why," replied the Ranger Captain, "I never thought of that, and don't
believe I should have known what to do with it if I had, for, you see,
the _Millgirl_ didn't have any centreboard, and so we didn't learn about
it."
"Which shows," remarked Billy Barlow, sagely, "that it isn't safe to go
to sea, especially in command of a vessel, without a previous and pretty
extensive experience in various styles of craft."
"And after you've got your extensive experience, perhaps you won't ever
want to go to sea again," laughed Will Rogers. "At any rate, that's the
way I feel now."
"I don't care whether you call it extensive experience or sea-sickness,"
chimed in Mif Bowers, "but I know I've had enough of it to last me a
lifetime."
"Last night I promised myself that if ever I set foot on dry land again
I'd stay there, and I mean to keep my promise, too," announced Cracker
Bob Jones, with an expressive shake of the head.
"I think," said little Cal Moody, "that I'll resign from the Sea
Rangers, for I don't seem to care as much about being one as I did."
And this was the opinion of the entire wet, ragged, dirty, barefooted,
sunburned, hungry, and generally disreputable looking crew of the yacht
_Blue Billow_.
At the island they found the _Millgirl_, with poor Captain Crotty almost
beside himself with anxiety. He was so overcome with joyful emotion at
the safe reappearance of his missing charges that, as they thankfully
scrambled aboard the old sloop, he could only exclaim, "Waal, I'll be
blowed!"
He had met a dingy old schooner sailing out of the harbor as he entered
it, and described her so minutely that the commander of the _Bancroft_
decided to go in pursuit of her at once. This he did, ultimately
capturing her, with Mr. Bangwell and his pals, together with all their
plunder, including the handsome fittings of Admiral Marlin's yacht on
board.
The _Blue Billow_ was sent to New York in charge of prize-master William
Barlow and a picked crew of seamen, while the sturdy old _Millgirl_ bore
her picked crew of landsmen, who no longer had the least desire to
become seamen, safely back to Berks.
Here, after showing up at their respective homes, the Rangers met in
special session at Range Hall for the purpose of giving honorary member
Pop Miller a full account of their recent expedition. The little old
gentleman listened with absorbed attention, and when the tale was
concluded he exclaimed:
"Marmaids, mutiny, shipwreck, cast away on a desolate island, hungry,
thirsty, kidnapped, pirates, lost at sea, captured by a man-o'-war, and
safe back home, all inside of one week, is a record what I don't believe
can be beat by any other lot of Sea Rangers in the hull world"--which
conclusion is fully shared by every member of the Ready Rangers of
Berks.
THE END.
OAKLEIGH.
BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.