THE BROKEN HAWSER
The battered _Kenilworth_ lay heeled far over to one side, looming
forlornly from the Reef in the midst of a smooth and sparkling sea.
Her sides were gray with brine and streaked red with rust, her grimy
decks strewn with a chaotic litter of cargo, timbers, and rigging.
The once trim, seagoing steamer made a most distressful picture as
seen from the _Resolute_ which was bearing down from the direction of
Key West. Captain Bruce was standing in the bows of the tug. Gazing
at his helpless ship, he found it very hard to realize that he had
deliberately placed the _Kenilworth_ in this pitiful plight.
She looked as if she had laid her bones on the Reef for good and all,
but it was plain to see that the wreckers did not think so. Cargo
was tumbling from her ports into lighters strung alongside, tugs
hovered fussily near-by, and groups of active men toiled at capstans,
derrick-booms, and donkey-engines.
[Illustration: She looked as if she had laid her bones on the Reef for
good and all]
"It looks like trying to float her before long," Captain Wetherly sung
down from the wheel-house of the _Resolute_. "Come up here, Captain
Bruce. I want to show you something."
The master of the _Kenilworth_ mounted the ladder with an air of
reluctance, for it hurt him even to talk about the ship. He looked worn
and haggard and he could not rid himself of a great dread lest the
_Kenilworth_ might not be floated after all.
He was cheered, however, by the buoyant confidence of Captain Jim
Wetherly who exclaimed with a note of mirth in his voice:
"There's a sight to make you rub your eyes, Captain Bruce. That is
Jerry Pringle's tug from Tampa on the port quarter of the _Kenilworth_.
And there he goes up the side. Hooray! see him chase that gang of his
down the hatch. He is surely shoving the job along for all he's worth.
That's his way when he once buckles down to it."
"But you were fighting each other alongside my ship not long ago. I
don't understand it," commented Captain Bruce.
Captain Jim led the other man out of ear-shot of the wheel-house and
told him with a grim smile:
"Jerry Pringle expected to work on this wreck. You know that even
better than I do. I upset some plans of his, and yours. Now he has to
do the job _my_ way--understand? Do you know that I am suspected of
plotting with you to put this ship on the Reef, Captain Bruce? You
haven't heard it from Mr. Prentice? Um-m; well, you will hear a whole
lot more about it from me before this ship of yours slides off into
deep water."
The master of the _Kenilworth_ winced at the threatening tone of these
words, and his face was very red as he tried to bluster it out:
"What rot! That Prentice is a doddering old fool. Talking behind my
back, is he? Of all the wicked, silly nonsense! Well, upon my word!"
"That will do for you," was Captain Jim's curt reply. "_You_ are going
to clear me. I kept my mouth shut to shield some innocent people, women
and children, friends and kinfolk of mine--do you see? I expect to
give your ship back to you. And you are going to do the square thing
by me. Think it over and think hard."
Captain Wetherly faced about and left the other gazing with a troubled
frown at the _Kenilworth_. Presently Dan hailed his uncle:
"Bart Pringle came along with his father, sir. I'd like to go aboard
the wreck and see him if you don't mind, sir."
"Go ahead, Dan. Last time you two lads met on that deck you bristled
at each other like two terrier pups. But I don't expect to cut his
dad's tow-boat in two this trip, so I reckon you'll be glad to see each
other."
Dan followed Captain Bruce up the steamer's side and found Barton
dangling his legs from a heap of hatch-covers.
"Why don't you get busy? I want you to know that I am the real
wrecking master of this vessel," cried Dan as he thumped his friend on
the back with a generous impulse to forgive and forget their recent
misunderstanding. "I never saw a Pringle that was willing to loaf ten
seconds on a wreck. Gracious, look at your father. You can't see him
for dust."
Mr. Jeremiah Pringle was, indeed, making good his surprising contract
with Captain Jim Wetherly. He viewed a difficult task of wrecking as a
personal battle between the Reef and himself; his brains, brawn, and
courage matched against the perils of the sea. While the boys watched
him drive his crew of hardy wreckers, Bart remarked:
"I thought father and Captain Jim were red-hot at each other over
the _Henry Foster_ business, didn't you? They must have patched it
up all right, and that's enough to show how silly those stories were
about--about the wreck and Captain Jim. Father wouldn't lend a hand in
a crooked job for any money. I have been feeling meaner than a yellow
pup for ever bothering my head about those rumors that lugged you into
the dirty work, Dan. Will you really forgive me?"
"I was mean and nasty to you when the _Henry Foster_ was split wide
open, so I reckon we are quits," confessed Dan. "Let's shake hands and
forget it."
"I'd trust you as I would trust my own father," earnestly exclaimed
Bart. "Right down in my heart I would no more dream of your being
mixed up with a crooked wrecking job than I would think of suspecting
him. That's as strong as I can put it. You won't hold it out against me
any more, will you, honest?"
Jeremiah Pringle had come out of a forward hold and was making his
way aft along the ship's side to release a fouled guy-rope. The boys
did not see him pass behind them, and as Bart waxed earnest his voice
carried to his father's ears. The stern-visaged wrecker halted and
listened with the most intense interest. He heard his own son say:
"_I'd trust you as I'd trust my own father.... That's as strong as I
can put it._"
Jeremiah Pringle had been dealt a blow from a quarter so unexpected
that he was quite staggered. Moving stealthily out of sight of the two
lads, he went about his duty but his mind was painfully active with
emotions which were as novel as they were disturbing.
It had never before occurred to him that his boy's life was anywhere
linked with his own. He did not intend to set him a bad example, nor
bring disgrace on the name he bore. But now Barton had accused and
condemned him, not by doubting but by believing in him. It was brought
home to him from a clear sky that his son was shaping his own course by
what he believed his father to be. As Jeremiah Pringle sweated through
the long day, he sullenly reflected:
"I can't argue it out with the fool boy. And what gets under my skin,
too, is the way Dan Frazier has handled himself since that night in
Pensacola. He must have got wind of the _Kenilworth_ job then. I hate
to be under obligations to anybody, and Jim Wetherly and that boy
have been keeping it all back from my boy. Why? So Barton wouldn't be
ashamed of his daddy. That's a cheerful notion to take to bed with me."
He had begun to feel that it might be unfair to his son's faith in him
to engage in any more shady wrecking operations, and he was nearer
being ashamed of himself than he had been in many years. It seemed as
if Captain Jim Wetherly read his thoughts, for he halted him next day
long enough to say:
"You have taken hold in great shape. It helps square matters, Jerry.
It is your duty to get this ship off the Reef; you know that. And you
will never be able to look that boy of yours in the eye until the
_Kenilworth_ is towed into port and made ready for sea again."
Mr. Pringle was in no mood to have his sins or his duty flung in his
teeth, and he retorted savagely:
"Don't preach at me, Jim Wetherly. I break even with you by helping
you get this vessel afloat. And I won't make you pay for smashing the
_Henry Foster_. That squares all debts between us."
Meanwhile Dan and Barton had explored the _Kenilworth_ from end to
end, Dan telling at great length the story of his imprisonment among
the cargo in the hold. When he came to the chapter dealing with the
visit of the Bahama wreckers, he hurried Bart to the spot where he had
found the lighted fuse and sack of powder. Alas, even the fragments
of the fuse had been swept away in the task of lightering the cargo.
Dan headed for the nearest hatchway to search for the powder. The
compartment into which he had thrown it was cleared of water, the
débris shovelled out, and the shattered bottom plates covered deep with
cement and timber bracing.
"Our wreckers didn't find the powder bag, or Captain Jim would have
told me," mourned Dan. "The canvas may have ripped open or rotted where
it fell. You believe it all, don't you, Bart? But that hatchet-faced
old Prentice as much as called me a liar. And I won't be happy till I
can make him take it back. He thinks I was trying to pull his leg with
the explosion yarn. Why, I couldn't have made up a story like that in a
thousand years."
"Don't you care. Of course it's true. And it was splendid. I am
certainly proud of you," declared Bart who was anxious to make amends
for the rift in their friendship. "You and I will back old Prentice
into a corner first chance we get and make him apologize--won't we?"
The underwriters' agent came on board two days later and had a long
interview with Captain Jim behind the locked door of the chart-room,
after which Captain Bruce and Jeremiah Pringle were singly summoned for
more mysterious conferences. But no attention was paid to Dan who felt
that he moved in a cloud of suspicion and dismally reflected:
"Old Prentice has set me down as a liar and won't even give me a
chance to deny it. I wish I could have kept that fuse to hitch to his
coat-tails. I won't save another ship for him,--that's one thing sure."
At length the day came when Captain Jim Wetherly announced that he
intended pulling on the stranded steamer with all four tugs at high
water in the afternoon. They might not be able to start her, but it was
worth trying, for the spell of fair weather could not be expected to
last much longer. Dan was still grumbling to himself as he went off to
the _Resolute_ which had signalled for all hands to return.
One by one the tugs got into position for a "long pull, a strong pull,
and a pull all together." Captain Wetherly stayed in the _Kenilworth_
to direct operations and took his station up in the bows. To Jerry
Pringle was entrusted the important duty of properly making fast the
hawsers from the tugs. It amused Captain Jim to hear him fiercely
shouting orders to the crew of the _Resolute_ who glared at their
former foeman as if they would like to muster a boarding party and
attack him.
The men in the yawls and on the rolling decks of the tugs worked with
more caution than usual. They did not mind falling overboard or being
upset by an obstreperous hawser as part of the day's work. But the
dumping overboard of damaged cargo, including smashed cases of salt
meats and other provisions, had lured scores of huge sharks which
hovered in the clear, green depths at the edge of the Reef or rushed to
the surface at the splash of box or barrel. All hands breathed easier
when the hawsers had been passed aboard without mishap.
When all was in readiness to begin the tug-of-war between the tow-boats
and the Reef, Captain Wetherly's nerves were tingling with excitement.
The hour had come to put his faith and his works to the crucial test.
It meant more to him than salvage, for he was also seeking with might
and main to undo a wrong of which this ship had been the victim.
"The old _Resolute_ will pull her heart out before she quits," he
muttered. "I've given her the hardest berth, for she knows we can't
afford to lose this ship."
Slowly the tugs forged ahead until they were straining at their
hawsers like a team of well-handled horses, each using every bit of
its strength to the best advantage. Then it was "full speed ahead,"
and they buckled down to their task as if no odds were great enough to
daunt them,--_Resolute_, _Three Sisters_, _Fearless_, and _Hercules_.
Soon the rusty, high-sided _Kenilworth_ was veiled in the black clouds
of smoke which drifted from their belching funnels. Captain Jim moved
to leeward to get a clearer view and observed that Jeremiah Pringle
was standing within a few feet of the vibrating steel hawser of the
_Resolute_, where it led in over the bows of the _Kenilworth_.
"That is a brand-new line, but it isn't healthy to get so near it," he
called out. "That tow-boat of mine has busted them before this, Jerry."
"Always bragging of those engines of yours. You are as bad as Bill
McKnight," Pringle shouted back.
He looked down at the ponderous steel cable with a careless laugh. A
moment later Captain Jim forgot his own warning and ran to the side to
shout an urgent order to one of the tugs. He stood for a few seconds
almost on top of the hawser where it led inboard and was about to
retreat to his former station when the huge line twanged with a rasping
note as if its fibres were overstrained. He wasted a precious instant
in looking down to find out what the trouble might be, heard the steel
cable crack and give, tried to flee, and caught his toe in a ring-bolt
screwed to the deck.
Just then Jerry Pringle lunged forward and knocked Captain Jim flat
with a sweep of his powerful right arm. This deed, done with lightning
speed and rare presence of mind, sufficed to put Captain Jim out of
harm's way, but it used the precious second of time in which Jeremiah
Pringle might have saved himself.
Before Pringle could drop on deck or leap for shelter, the hawser
snapped in twain with a report like that of a cannon. The ragged
ends whizzed through the air with the speed and destructiveness of
projectiles. One of them crashed against a metal stanchion, cut it
clean in two, and knocked a pile of timber braces in all directions.
These obstacles saved Jerry Pringle from being sliced in twain, but he
was swept up in the flying debris and sent spinning overboard as if he
were a chip caught in a tornado.
The accident happened with such incredible swiftness that Captain
Wetherly scrambled to his feet and stood blinking at the spot from
which Pringle had vanished as if he were blotted out of existence.
Then, pulling himself together, with a yell of horrified dismay he
rushed to the side of the ship and stared down into the sea which was
seething with the foamy wash from the screws of the nearest tugs. He
saw a black object rise to the surface, drift toward the stern, and
then slowly sink from sight. Running aft where the water was clear, he
caught a glimpse of the body of Jerry Pringle settling toward the white
coral bottom.
Two of the tugs were hastily manning boats. Captain Jim glanced toward
them and knew their help would come too late. He thought of the sharks
which had been flocking around the ship. They could not have been
driven very far away by the tumult of the tugs. While he wavered,
Captain Jim said to himself:
"He didn't figure on the odds when he bowled me out of danger before he
tried to save himself. Here goes."
Springing upon the bulwark, he jumped clear and sped downward with feet
together and arms stretched above his head. It was a thirty-foot drop
to the water and he shot into it as straight and true as a dipsey lead.
His impetus carried him far down into the cool, green sea and, opening
his eyes, he dimly discerned the shadowy form of the man he sought
drifting above him. As Captain Jim rose he grasped the other by the
shirt and struck out with his free arm. Pringle might be dead for all
he knew, but he hung to him like a bull-dog, fighting his way upward to
reach the blessed air and ease his tortured lungs.
A boat was pulling madly toward the scene, the crew yelling and
splashing to hold the sharks at bay. Most clamorous of the party was
the chief engineer of the _Resolute_ who was roaring with tears in his
eyes:
"Wow--wow--wow, keep a yellin', boys. It's Captain Jim they're after.
Jerry Pringle's too tough for 'em."
A black fin skittered past the boat and Bill McKnight blazed away at it
with a rifle which he had caught up on the run. A few more desperate
strokes and they slackened speed and beat the water into foam with the
flat of their oars. A long, sinister shadow slid swiftly under the
boat and the men yelled as they saw it veer toward the stern of the
Kenilworth. But this hastening shark had overrun its prey. Captain Jim
and his burden rose within an oar's length of the yawl and were grasped
by a dozen eager hands before they could be attacked.
Dan Frazier was not in the boat. He had not recovered his wits until
his comrades had shoved clear of the _Resolute_. He stood as if
paralyzed and watched the rescue. When the two dripping figures were
hauled into the yawl and he saw Captain Jim sit up and shake himself
like a retriever, a wordless prayer of thanksgiving welled from the
depths of his heart.
Then he saw the boat move toward Jerry Pringle's tug which lay on the
other side of the _Kenilworth_, screened from view of the rescue. Bart
had gone on board this tug earlier in the day, and Dan felt his knees
tremble as he saw the body of Jeremiah Pringle hoisted over the low
bulwark. It seemed an age before the yawl returned to the _Resolute_
and Captain Jim leaped on deck, followed by the chief engineer. Their
faces were very solemn and they spoke with evident effort:
"Were--were you too late, Uncle Jim?" stammered Dan.
"Yes, he must have been dead when he struck the water," slowly returned
Captain Wetherly. "But I'm glad I went after him. He made a brave man's
finish. It's awful tough on Bart, but he is standing up under it like a
thoroughbred. Jerry Pringle staked his life and lost it for me."
Captain Jim wiped his eyes and coughed. Bill McKnight ventured to say
to Dan:
"He'd have done the same trick to save one of his own deck-hands. Jerry
Pringle was a brave and ready man, we all know that. It was instinct.
He didn't have time to figure it out. But I reckon God Almighty will
give him plenty of credit and square accounts for whatever he did
wrong. Whew! I can't realize it a little bit."
"The tug will take him down to Key West right away," said Captain Jim.
"I'm going along with Jerry Pringle on his last voyage. Want to come,
Dan? It will do Bart a whole lot of good to have you as a shipmate
and you can tell him that his father was a man to be proud of. We'll
forget everything that happened before to-day. You come aboard the
_Kenilworth_ with me and I'll leave orders for my men. I'll have to be
back here to-morrow if this steamer is to come off the Reef. I have a
notion that Jerry Pringle was sorry he ever helped to put her on there.
And from watching him lately I believe we couldn't please him any
better than by getting the _Kenilworth_ off and mending the wrong he
planned to do."
As they boarded the _Kenilworth_ Captain Bruce met them and asked in a
voice hoarse with emotion:
"They tell me he has slipped his cable. If my ship had not stranded it
would not have happened."
"What are you going to do about it? Let _me_ be accused of helping
to wreck your steamer?" sternly replied Captain Wetherly. "Jeremiah
Pringle has squared his accounts and made _his_ record clean. But how
about you?"