"She's a-goner!" shouted Bill, at the wheel.
"Steady!" cried Tom, at the lever.
The sounds of excitement and alarm among the passengers still aboard the
_Olivia_ and her crew told of a state of new distress and terror. The
launch, now at a safe distance from either tug or steamer, was instantly
put about.
"She can't hold many more," declared Bill.
"We can't see those people drown," responded Tom, and shut off the
power, while Bill tried to hold the launch steady.
Tom got a boathook and stood braced against the cabin, ready to give
assistance to any of three or four men he had seen leap overboard
immediately after the _Olivia_ had scuttled. His services were required,
however, only in the case of one who was driven by a wave directly up to
the launch. The others managed to swim to the steam tug, and were lifted
aboard readily by the crew over its low sides.
The captain of the _Olivia_ shouted out some quick orders. A cable came
whirling across the deck of the tug. It was caught fast at both ends, a
pulleyed davit was rigged, and the remaining passengers of the steamer
slid along this. When the captain came last, Tom knew that the steamer
had been abandoned to her fate.
"It's all right," he called to Bill.
"Nobody lost?"
"I think not."
"Then it's Brookville for us."
"Yes, quick as you can make it, Bill."
The storm had somewhat subsided. The _Beulah_ struck a straight course
shorewards. Tom, glancing through the cabin window, observed that the
lady passengers grouped there seemed quieted down and coherent.
The bulky man passenger with the life preservers had crawled to the
shelter of the stern platform, and, wedging himself in between two rods,
only occasionally shouted out some mad threat of a suit against the
steamship company.
The dock at Brookville was crowded by residents of the little town as
the _Beulah_ drove into comparatively smooth water in the coaling slip.
Men with lanterns, and some women too, had braved the rain and wind,
alarmed, and anxious to be helpful when the rumor had spread that a
steamer was aground on Garvey Rocks.
Tom expressed a great sigh of relief as willing hands caught the cable
he threw to the dock. He shut off the power, and as he passed Bill, grim
and business-like at his post of duty, he bestowed a hearty smack
between the shoulders.
"Good boy!" he cried exuberantly.
Bill chuckled.
"Mean that?" he propounded.
"I certainly do."
"Some good, then, ain't I?"
"Bill Barber," cried Tom with genuine feeling, "you're pure gold all
through, and every inch a man!"
The Barber boy thrust out his rough paw of a hand to grasp that of his
comrade in a hearty grip.
"Tom Barnes," he said, choking up, and yet with the echo of a glad cheer
in his tones, "I'd rather hear you say that than--than--yes, than even
get that eleven dollars and seventy-five cents Bert Aldrich owes me."
The door of the cabin opened, and Grace Morgan stood on its threshold.
"Have we landed, Tom?" she asked.
"Yes, Grace, safe and sound."
"Oh, how glad Aunt Bertha will be! What are we to do now, Tom?"
"You are to be taken in charge by a lot of kind people, it looks to me,"
responded Tom.
"I will find out their plans, and let you know at once. Tell the ladies
there is no need of their coming out in the rain until arrangements are
made for their comfort."
Tom clambered up to the dock. He had to answer a dozen questions in one
breath for as many excited persons eager for news.
Tom allayed the general suspense by expressing the conviction that all
hands had been saved from the wreck. Then he gave full attention to a
big man in a raincoat who seemed to be the spokesman of the community.
"Get the ladies to shelter," this individual ordered those at his side.
"We can find room for a couple of them up at our house."
"I'll go and get the covered 'bus," suggested one of his assistants.
"A good idea."
In two minutes' time the proffers of shelter exceeded the demand of the
occasion.
A fog whistle in the distance out at sea came floating in on the strong
breeze.
"That is the steam tug with the other passengers aboard," said the big
man.
"Yes, sir," responded Tom.
"How many, do you think?"
"Perhaps fifteen or twenty."
"They must be provided for," said the man. "There's the hotel. It's old
and rickety and don't accommodate half a dozen comfortably; but it'll
give them a roof, some kind of a shakedown, and a warm meal to brace
them up."
"How much the cost?" broke in a sudden voice, and the fat man with the
life preservers trundled into view.
"How much for what?" demanded the other, staring in astonishment at the
odd figure the stout passenger made with his armor of cork life
preservers.
"For lodging and meals. I won't pay much. Look at my clothes! All
soaked,--and what of my baggage back on that pesky steamer? I won't be
robbed! I'll sue everybody! I shan't pay a cent!"
"You won't have to," assured the man. "The hospitality of this town
comes free, gratis, for nothing, on such an occasion as this."
Tom told Bill of the arrangements in order, and then reported to Grace.
He had never admired the little lady as much as now, as he noted her
kindly soothing treatment of her nervously-unstrung aunt, her pretty
obliging ways in seeing to the care of an old lady with a crutch and a
young woman with a frightened child in her arms, as the 'bus drove up.
"Aunt Bertha is dreadfully nervous," she said to Tom. "She says she will
abandon the trip entirely now, will never venture on the water again,
and wants to get to Fernwood right away, for she knows she is going to
be ill."
"It is quite a trip to your home from here, Grace," explained Tom. "I
might get a vehicle somewhere, but the roads must be almost impassable
in places, and the storm isn't over yet. If I were you, I would try and
induce your aunt to remain at Brookville till morning. I know you will
both be taken care of by these good people."
"I will try and console her to your opinion," responded Grace. She gave
him a bright look. "Oh, Tom," she cried, bursting girl-like into tears
of mingled pride and joy, "you have acted just--splendid!"
She seized both his hands in her own and smiled in grateful friendship
at him, as he helped her into the 'bus. Just then those on the dock
broke out into ringing cheers.
"The steam tug!" said Tom, noticing the craft approach.
There was the excitement of a new landing, eager questioning, rapid
explanations; and Bill, who had left the launch and mingled with the
crowd, approached Tom, smiling with good nature, his hands in his
pockets, a certain element of pride and exaltation in his stride.
"Not a person lost," he reported in glad tones.
"The captain of the _Olivia_ is looking for you, and----"
"That's the lad," sounded the voice of the tug captain, and the man with
him who wore a cap with an official band of gold braid around it, seized
Tom as if he feared he might run away from him.
"I want you," he said, his hearty grip catching Tom's arm. "Hey, where's
that hotel you're going to stow us in?" he hailed to a villager.
"I'll pilot you there," was the prompt reply, and passengers and crew of
the _Olivia_ followed the speaker from the dock over to an old
dilapidated building that had been in its palmy days the hotel of the
place.
It was well lighted up, and warmed by two red hot iron stoves. It had an
immense dining room, and into this the crowd was ushered, and gathered
shiveringly about the great heater in the center of the room. Adjoining
it was a small apartment which at one time had been an office. It had a
light on a table and some chairs.
"Sit down," said the steamer captain. "My friend," he added, taking out
a memorandum book and a pencil, "do you realize what you have done for
my passengers and crew to-night?"
"How about my comrade, plucky Bill Barber?" inquired Tom, trying to
evade the direct compliment.
"We'll come to him in the final settlement, don't fret about that,"
observed the captain definitely. "You got the message, you started the
grand old ball rolling that saved twenty lives!" exclaimed the excited
captain. "So the tug officer tells me. Now, then, a few questions.
Name?"
Tom gave it, and replied in detail to other inquiries of his companion.
In fact, before the captain had concluded the inquisition he had
gathered from Tom and jotted down the main facts of a pretty
circumstantial account of the start and finish of the rescue.
"I shall telegraph the outlines of the case at once to headquarters,"
said the steamer captain. "I shall follow it up with the written report
of your share in the affair. You will hear from the company in a very
substantial way, count on that, young man. Wait here a few minutes."
The speaker left Tom and went into the big room beyond where the rescued
male passengers and crew of the _Olivia_ were gathered. He closed the
door after him, but Tom caught the echo of many voices in animated
discussion. He even made out the cackling, complaining tones of the man
with the life preservers.
When the captain came out he placed in Tom's hands a roll of banknotes.
"Hold on----" began Tom.
"No, you do the holding on, young man," interrupted the captain
cheerfully. "That's a little heart-to-heart acknowledgment from the
crowd in there, who wanted to cheer you, but they might scare the
natives. Oh, by the way--I came near cheating you. Here's a part of the
contribution."
The speaker burst into a rollicking roar of laughter as he placed in
Tom's hand a nickel. Tom smiled inquiringly.
"From the old fat fellow with the life preservers," explained the
captain.
"Oh," said Tom, amused, "I understand."
"Good-by, Barnes," said the captain, grasping Tom's hand till he winced.
"I wish I had a boy like you."
"You will thank those gentlemen for their kindness?" asked Tom.
"Oh, they're the grateful ones," declared the captain of the _Olivia_.
"I say, Barnes," he shouted, after waving adieu to Tom from the door of
the hotel, "look out for that nickel. It may be real."
Tom hurried to the dock. He found Bill getting the launch ready for the
return trip. The storm had almost passed over by this time.
"Is it home, Tom?" inquired Bill.
"Right away," assented the young wireless operator, "and the sooner the
better. I have some work at the tower before me."
"They are going to start back with the tug for Garvey rocks, I heard
them say," remarked Bill, as the _Beulah_ got under way. "They may be
able to do something with her, at least save something."
Tom did not talk much on the journey back to the pier. His mind and his
heart were both full. He had so much to commend his loyal comrade for,
that he did not wish to spoil it by not choosing just the right time,
and saying just the right words to impress Bill with a sense of his
unaffected worthiness.
Bill insisted on taking him clear down to Sandy Point. When Tom landed,
he remarked:
"If you're not going home, Bill, I'd like to see you at the station for
a little while."
"Oh, I'm not going home," responded the Barber boy. "There's that eleven
dollars and seventy-five cents to get from that measly cad, Bert
Aldrich, you know; and I'm going to stick till I catch him."
"Forget that, Bill," advised Tom. "We have about taken out that eleven
dollars and seventy-five cents in use of the _Beulah_. You come down to
the tower, as I say. I've got something better than eleven dollars and
seventy-five cents to interest you in."
"Have?" propounded Bill, in his rough blunt way. "What is it, now?"
"You come and see."
"All right."
"That fellow has a grand streak in him," ruminated Tom, as the _Beulah_
sped on its course and he made for the station. "He doesn't seem to have
the least conception of his heroic bravery, and never thinks of reward.
I'll give him a surprise."
Tom set at work the minute he reached the tower. He sent messages to the
life-saving station, briefly detailing the event of the night, and a
routine report to headquarters. Then he took out the roll of bills the
captain of the _Olivia_ had given him.
"One hundred and ninety dollars," counted Tom,--"and five cents. There,
that's Bill's share," and he set aside one hundred dollars. "The nickel
we'll nail up on the wall."
"Why, what's all that money?" inquired the Barber boy, when he came into
the tower an hour later.
"This little heap," replied Tom, placing in Bill's lap a pile of
banknotes, "is yours."
"Mine?" exclaimed Bill in a gasp, staring at the money in wonder.
"Yours--one hundred dollars! It is your share of a testimonial given us
by the passengers and crew of the _Olivia_," and Tom explained the
incident of his interview with the steamer captain at the Brookville
hotel.
A pathetic look came into Bill Barber's eyes. He looked at the money and
gasped. He glanced up at Tom and his lips twitched.
"One hundred dollars!" he said slowly, impressively; "a whole one
hundred dollars, and mine! I can get a new suit--why, Tom, I can buy a
bulldog now, a real bulldog. Oh, crackey!"
Bill looked again at Tom. His tone changed, a queer longing expression
came into his face. His voice broke.
"Tom Barnes," he said huskily, "it's a heap of a fortune to me, but,
more than the money is what you said to-night--that I was pure gold,
that I was--was every inch a man! Tom, it's too much--oh, it, it's all
come on me like a burst of glory!"
And Bill Barber broke down utterly, and bawled like a baby.