WICKED MR. PRINGLE IN COLLISION
In his cooler moments Captain Wetherly might not have ordered Dan
Frazier to board the stranded _Kenilworth_ before daylight, for a heavy
sea was running along the Reef. But he knew there was smoother water in
the lee of the stranded steamer and he had reason for confidence in his
boat's crew. He had been foolhardy in bringing his tug so close, but he
was in no mood to weigh risks; and he was ready to back Dan to play a
man's part in this game for high stakes.
Dan had learned to do as he was told without asking why, but as he
peered from his plunging yawl at the tall, black hulk of the helpless
_Kenilworth_, his hands were shaking and his lips were dry. Although
the seas did not break over the Reef because of the depth of water,
they threatened to smash the yawl against the steamer's side. Presently
a lantern crept down from the deck above like a huge fire-fly. It
was tied to one of the lower rounds of a swaying rope ladder, at the
sight of which Dan gathered himself for the ordeal. As the yawl rose he
jumped headlong, got a grip on the ladder, and hung on for dear life
while a frothing sea washed over him. Gasping for breath, bruised and
dazed, he fought his way up the side and fell over the bulwark of the
after well-deck.
Dan had not the slightest idea of what he was expected to do on board
the _Kenilworth_, but after two seamen had stood him on his feet he
limped forward in search of Captain Bruce. Oddly enough, he did not
feel in the least afraid of meeting the hostile ship-master whose
wicked plans had been spoiled by the coming of the _Resolute_. Dan
recalled the big, brown-bearded man with the deep voice and the kindly
eyes whom he had met in Pensacola harbor, and said to himself, as he
had said then: "He looks like too fine a man." But as Captain Jim's
agent, Dan braced himself to be stern and dignified while he clambered
to the bridge.
He found Captain Bruce standing in the light that fell from the
chart-room door.
"I am to stay aboard until further orders from Captain Wetherly, sir,"
announced Dan in the heaviest voice he could muster.
"Nobody asked you, so get away from my quarters," was the irritable
reply. Dan stepped forward into the light and Captain Bruce stared at
him with puzzled interest. Then his frown cleared and he exclaimed
heartily:
"Why, it's the lad that fished me out of Pensacola harbor. I ought not
to forget you, had I? Pardon my rude manners, but a man with his ship
in peril is poor company. Come inside. Well, upon my word, this is a
most extraordinary reunion all round."
The stalwart master mariner was trying hard to wear his usual manner,
but his words came out with jerky, nervous haste, his gaze shifted
uneasily, and he was twisting both hands in his beard. If his
conscience had been troubling him before, panic fear had now come to
torment him; fear of Captain Wetherly; fear even of this boy, for no
mere chance could have brought about this midnight meeting on the
Reef. In silence Dan followed him into the chart-room and waited while
Captain Bruce seemed to forget himself in gloomy reflection. With an
effort the master of the _Kenilworth_ looked at the boy and began to
explain:
"I hope Captain Wetherly did not take offence. I am responsible for
the safety of this ship, and until I can get in touch with my owners
my word is final. If I can get her off without help, it means saving
a whacking big salvage bill. She is making no water, and is in little
danger."
Dan knew enough of the ways of seafaring men to be surprised that this
captain should stoop to explain matters to the deck-hand of a tug. But
the captain's word did not ring true. He was trying to play a part, and
Dan saw through it and was sorry for him.
"You don't know the Reef," replied the boy. "You struck it in good
weather. And Captain Jim Wetherly is no robber. He would not stand by
if he thought you were not going to need him and need him bad. _We_
don't do any crooked business aboard the _Resolute_, sir."
Dan had not meant to deal this last home-thrust. He was one lone-handed
boy in the enemy's camp. Captain Bruce flushed and looked hard at Dan,
not so much with anger as with unhappy doubt and anxiety. He did not
reply and appeared to be struggling with his thoughts. Dan was so worn
out with excitement and loss of sleep that he had to blink hard at
the swinging lamp to keep his eyes open, and after several minutes of
silence, Captain Bruce's face seemed to waver in a kind of haze. Dan
aroused himself with a start when the master of the _Kenilworth_ spoke
the question that was uppermost in his thoughts:
"How did your tow-boat happen to find me to-night? What were you doing
out here, boy?"
Dan's drowsiness fled as if a gun had been fired in the room. What
could he say? If he told the truth he might be knocked on the head and
dropped overboard before daylight. Deeds as bad as this had been done
on the Reef, and he was the only witness to back up Captain Jim's story
of a plot to wreck the steamer. He could only stammer:
"We were running to the north'ard and saw your signals. Captain
Wetherly commands the _Resolute_. You must ask him."
"He threatened and bulldozed me to-night," exclaimed Captain Bruce. "I
let you come on board because he treated me kindly at Pensacola. I
will give him my answer at daylight."
Dan leaned forward with his elbows on the table and looked up into the
captain's face. Mustering all his courage, he began to say what was in
his heart, as if he were talking to one of his own friends who had done
something to be sorry for:
"Captain Wetherly is working for your interests, sir. He knows the
Reef better than any pilot out of Key West. If he says he can get your
steamer off, he'll do it. And--and--he wants to save you--your ship--no
matter what it costs him. It--it--isn't only to get ahead of Jerry
Pringle on a wrecking job, Captain. He likes you, and Barton Pringle is
my chum, and Mrs. Pringle is my mother's dearest friend, and Captain
Jim wants to get you clear and on your voyage again without--without
being forced to--to fight it out to a finish with you and Jerry
Pringle. It's for Bart and his mother, and for you, too, Captain Bruce."
The ship-master walked to the doorway and stood gazing out into the
night. Then he replied gruffly with a hard laugh:
"You are almost asleep, my boy. I can't make head or tail of what you
are driving at. I make my own bargains with tugs when I need them.
Lie down on the transom and take forty winks. I am going to start my
engines again and work my vessel off on this tide."
Dan nodded and promptly curled up on the leather cushions. Daylight
showed through the port-holes when he awoke and stepped out on deck.
A few cable-lengths to seaward rolled the _Resolute_. Astern of her
was the _Henry Foster_. Beating up the Hawk Channel inside the Reef
came two schooners under clouds of canvas. Other sails flecked the sea
to the southward, all hastening toward the _Kenilworth_. From among
the low islets to the westward the smaller craft of the "Conchs,"
or scattered dwellers on the Keys, were speeding toward the scene.
The _Kenilworth_ lay with a list to port, her bow shoved high on the
invisible Reef, her stern still afloat. It would have been hard to
convince a landlubber that this great steamer was in danger of going to
pieces. No seas were breaking around her. She looked as if she had come
to a standstill in mid ocean.
Dan Frazier had the love of the sea in him. The sight of this helpless
ship as he saw her by daylight appealed to him as tremendously sad and
tragic. He picked up a sounding lead and let it fall over the side to
find the depth of water amidships, for a glance at the chart-room clock
had told him that the tide was almost at the flood. The sound of voices
made him look aft. Captain Bruce was coming forward with Jeremiah
Pringle, and behind them was Barton. A moment later, Captain Jim
Wetherly threw a leg over the steamer's rail and shouted to his men in
the yawl to wait for him. He ran forward to Dan without speaking to the
others as he passed them, and shoving his nephew toward Captain Bruce
he exclaimed:
"Here's my man, aboard your ship hours ahead of Pringle. You'll have to
talk business with me first. And all I ask is a square deal."
Barton hung back and acted as if he had caught the spirit of the
hostile rivalry that threatened an explosion of some kind. He was more
highly strung and impulsive than Dan, less used to knocking about among
men, and he felt that Dan was somehow taking sides against him. Before
Captain Bruce could speak, Jerry Pringle strode up with an ugly scowl
on his lean, dark face and said:
"Let Wetherly talk terms. When he gets through, I will be ready to sign
a paper to take charge of the job for half the figure he names, I don't
care how low he goes."
"That ought to settle it. You can't do as well as that, Captain
Wetherly," put in the master of the _Kenilworth_. "If you are so sure
my ship can be pulled off, I see no reason why Captain Pringle isn't
the man to do it."
Captain Jim was trying to keep his temper under, but the fact that
these two men were trying to carry out their vile agreement right under
his nose was more than he could stand. He shook his heavy fist in Jerry
Pringle's face and declared:
"The _Resolute_ will make fast to this ship this morning. And if you
want the _Henry Foster_ to get action, it will be under my orders, and
at my terms. By Judas, this play-acting ends right here. I mean you,
too, Captain Bruce. I have been hoping that I could keep my mouth shut.
I'd rather cut off my right hand than drag certain other people into
it. I know why you brought your boy along with you, Jerry Pringle. To
put a stopper on my tongue, wasn't it? Hide behind women and children,
eh? Well, I'm in charge of wrecking this steamer, understand? Get back
to your tug. I've a good mind to----"
He felt a pull at his arm, and turned to look into Dan's imploring face
as the boy whispered:
"Don't say any more, Uncle Jim. Wait till Bart is out of the way,
please, oh please do."
Captain Jim rammed his hands in his breeches pockets and addressed
Captain Bruce:
"I've said my last word. My hawser will come aboard at once."
The master of the _Kenilworth_ wavered and looked at Jerry Pringle as
if appealing to the stronger will which had tempted and entrapped him.
The hapless ship-master had gone too far with the plot to let it go by
the board. Pringle muttered with a sneer:
"Who is master of this steamer, anyhow?"
Captain Bruce echoed the remark:
"I command this ship, Captain Wetherly, and the sooner you leave her
the better."
Wasting no more words, Captain Jim called to his boat's crew to stand
by to take him off, and said to Dan:
"Pringle is going back to his tug. You stay here. They won't dare to do
you any harm. Keep your eyes and ears open."
Presently Bart followed his father on board the _Henry Foster_. Dan had
found no chance to talk with him and he was not sorry. He was afraid
Bart would ask him what Captain Jim's angry speech had meant. Already
the stranding of the _Kenilworth_ had dragged the two lads into its
tangle of motives and events.
Dan was too absorbed in wondering what Captain Jim could do next to
dwell long with his own troubles and perplexities. He watched the
_Resolute_ steam nearer the _Kenilworth_, while Captain Wetherly's
deck-crew gathered around the huge coils of steel hawser on the
overhang. Soon the _Henry Foster_ wallowed closer and her men were also
busy making ready to pay out a towing hawser. Dan could not understand
how Captain Jim was going to get his line aboard the _Kenilworth_, and
he breathlessly awaited the next move.
On board the _Resolute_, Captain Wetherly was standing at the wheel and
watching the _Henry Foster_ with the light of battle in his gray eyes.
Jerry Pringle's tug had forged ahead until she lay square in the path
of the _Resolute_ which was thus prevented from getting into position
for taking hold of the steamer on the Reef.
Captain Jim pulled the whistle cord and the _Resolute_ clamored to the
other tug to move out of the way. But Mr. Pringle seemed determined to
remain exactly where he was. Again and again the _Resolute's_ whistle
was sounded, but the _Henry Foster_ refused to make room. Captain
Wetherly finally growled to the mate:
"He doesn't seem to have very good manners, does he? Maybe he ought
to be taught a lesson. Take the wheel while I go below and have a few
words with Mr. McKnight."
The chief engineer was leaning against a stanchion and muttering
insults at the balky _Henry Foster_, with special emphasis on the
shortcomings of Mr. J. Pringle.
"Are you going to sit here all day and let those _Henry Fosters_ laugh
at you, Captain?" asked McKnight.
"Not if you have steam enough to do as I tell you, Bill. All I want you
to do is to jump her ahead for all she's worth when I ring the jingle
bell. Then hold on tight and say your prayers."
"Going to push Pringle out of the way?" asked the engineer with a smile
of happy anticipation. "Well, there's steam enough to make the _Henry
Foster_ know she's been bumped. It's about time something happened."
The captain returned to the wheel-house and gave the signal to back
her. The _Resolute_ slipped very slowly astern until she was in a
position for a "running start." As a final warning her whistle was
blown, without reply from the _Henry Foster_. Then, with one long
blast like a war-whoop, the _Resolute_ moved straight ahead, gathering
headway until her rearing bow was flinging cascades of spray. The mate
gasped:
"Keep her off, Captain, or you'll be in collision."
Captain Wetherly grinned and nodded as he held his tug straight at
the after part of the _Henry Foster_ on board of which there was much
shouting and running to and fro.
Her crew had taken it for granted that the _Resolute_ would pass
astern of them until her tall cut-water loomed within a hundred feet
of their overhang. Then her engine-room bells ding-donged one frantic
signal after another, but she began to move too late. _Crash!_ and she
heeled far over from the shock of the collision. Like a keen-edged axe
through a soft timber, the bow of the _Resolute_, with her weight and
momentum behind it, sheared through the overhang and sliced a dozen
feet off the stern of the luckless _Henry Foster_. It was done and over
within a twinkling. The _Resolute_ ploughed on with headway almost
unchecked, and as her horrified mate rushed forward to see what damage
had been done to her own hull, Captain Jim Wetherly looked back and
remarked to himself:
"As neat a job as I ever saw. Her after bulkhead will keep her afloat,
but the _Henry Foster_ is surely shy her tail-feathers. I guess that
winds up her career as a tow-boat for some time. Jerry Pringle looks
kind of upset and agitated."
Mr. Pringle had picked himself up from the deck, where he had been
hurled headlong, and was wildly shaking his fist at the _Resolute_. The
crippled tug was drifting off broadside and was evidently helpless.
Presently a small boat put off from her and headed for the _Resolute_.
As soon as he was within shouting distance, Jerry Pringle rose in the
stern-sheets and yelled in a voice broken with rage:
"You'll pay for my vessel, Jim Wetherly. You run her down on purpose.
She'll founder or drift on the Reef if you don't tow me to Key West."
"You violated all the rules of the road," sung back Captain Jim. "And
you're so fond of wrecking other people's vessels, supposing you see
what kind of a job you can make of the _Henry Foster_. Tow you to Key
West? You're joking. I'm going to put my line aboard the _Kenilworth_
and I'll settle with you later."
Dan was dancing up and down on the _Kenilworth's_ deck as he stared at
this amazing collision. It might be a reckless and lawless thing to do,
but Dan saw that Jerry Pringle had brought the disaster upon himself,
and that it had given Captain Jim a clear field. Throwing his cap in
the air, Dan let out a series of shrill and joyous war-whoops. He had
forgotten all about Barton, but in the midst of his noisy jubilation
he caught sight of his chum standing aft on the _Henry Foster_ and
peering down at the havoc made by the collision. Dan's voice must have
carried across the water, for Bart turned to look at the _Kenilworth_
and shook his fist with every sign of rage and resentment. Dan
subsided, but the mischief had been done. He had made an enemy of
Barton, and he muttered with a sorrowful face:
"I can't blame him for getting mad as a hornet at me. I ought to have
kept still. I don't know how we can ever patch up this misunderstanding
either. He ought to hold his daddy responsible for thinking he could
monkey with Uncle Jim Wetherly and the _Resolute_."