OFFICIAL PERMISSION.
The story told by the stranger did not differ materially from that
which the cook had imagined after seeing the overturned gunning-skiff.
The young gentleman, Francis P. Bradford by name, had been paddling
around the shore, keeping well within the shadow of the rocks in the
hope of getting a good bag of wild ducks when they settled upon the
water at sunset. He had begun the voyage from a point two miles or
more distant, and approached in such manner that the men who were on
watch could not have seen him.
The shallow skiff, which Sam Hardy declared very emphatically “was
little better than an egg-shell,” had run upon a submerged rock, and,
the swell arising at that instant, overset her, throwing the sportsman
into the water.
Encumbered as he was by heavy clothing, and being by no means a skilful
swimmer, the sportsman could do no more than keep himself afloat, while
the boat was driven by the wind farther and farther from the shore.
Knowing that a life-saving station was near at hand, he shouted for
help; but, as has been said, it was impossible to make any very
loud outcry, and, rapidly becoming exhausted, he believed death was
inevitable until there suddenly appeared on the bluff, to use his own
words, “what looked to be a ball of white cotton blown along by the
wind.”
“I had no idea it was a dog,” he said continuing the story, “until the
fluffy object straightened itself out and began barking shrilly. I am
certain the little fellow understood my plight, for when some person
called him he ran back a few paces, and then returned yelping and
howling until one would have said there was danger the volume of sound
would cause him to explode like an overcharged boiler.”
Benny’s eyes sparkled with delight as young Bradford continued to
praise Fluff; but an expression of dissatisfaction came over his face
when the sportsman declared his intention of leaving with Keeper Downey
a sum of money to be expended in purchasing food and dainties for the
animal that had been the means of saving his life.
“What’s the matter, Benny?” Sam asked, noting the look on the boy’s
face.
“It won’t do at all, sir,” and Benny spoke very decidedly. “Fluff
wouldn’t like to be paid for such a thing as that, I’m certain, and
besides, if, as Mr. Cushing says, he is a member of the crew, then it’s
his business to save life if he can, without thinking of taking money
for it.”
“I’ll guarantee that the idea of money never came into Fluff C.
Foster’s head!” Sam Hardy cried, laughing heartily. “You see, lad,
what Mr. Bradford proposes is to give the dog a reward, and that any
life-saver is entitled to if it be offered voluntarily.”
“It would please me if the gentleman wouldn’t leave money for Fluff,”
Benny insisted. “It don’t seem right to take it for doing anything of
the kind.”
From that moment Mr. Bradford ceased to press the matter; but later in
the evening he had a long conversation with Tom Downey, and those who
accidentally overheard scraps of the conversation understood that the
keeper was telling Benny’s pitiful story.
Fluff was not interested in anything which was taking place around him.
The feast of sugar which Joe Cushing had set out was so tempting and so
delicious that he gave heed to nothing else.
When the sweet repast had come to an end, however, the dog was petted
by first one and then another of the crew as he had never been before,
and Benny said laughingly, as he took the little fellow in his arms
fully half an hour before the usual time for retiring.
“Fluff will grow so proud that he’ll be spoiled if all hands praise him
in this fashion. He’d better go to bed, and I’ll make him understand
that it was no more than his duty to bark when he saw Mr. Bradford in
the water.”
Then the boy and the dog disappeared for the night, and after he had
left the room the life savers and their guest held a long consultation
of a business nature, which was to be kept a profound secret from Benny
and Fluff until all the details had been carried into effect.
On the following morning immediately after breakfast, Mr. Bradford left
the station for the purpose of hiring some one of the farmers nearby to
carry him into the city.
Very gravely he thanked Benny for the great service which had been
rendered him by Fluff, urging the boy to promise that he would apply to
him if at any time in the future he should need assistance.
To this the lad agreed, and when the gentleman had taken his departure
said confidentially to Sam Hardy:
“If Fluff and I are to be surfmen we shan’t be obliged to beg from
anyone, and I’d a good deal rather earn what we need than have it given
us.”
“Well, lad, it shall go your way, and I like the idea you’ve got in
mind. Whether you and Fluff will be able to cut much of a figure
as surfmen is a matter which needn’t trouble us just now, for I’ll
guarantee you don’t come to want while this crew holds together.”
Benny went about his regular duties as if nothing out of the ordinary
had occurred, and Fluff, believing himself safe from any attack by
Maje, ran to and fro over the snow-covered rocks until his pink feet
were chilled by the frost, when he returned and, standing before his
master, held up first one and then the other with a low whine which
told of his discomfort.
The cook placed a chair near the stove, and, despite Benny’s
protestations, insisted that Fluff should occupy it whenever he had
been so foolish as to stay out of doors until thoroughly chilled.
“You have no business to play on the rocks while it is so cold,” Benny
said reprovingly, addressing himself to the dog.
“It’s the nature of dogs and boys to be foolish at times, Benny, and
since they can’t be expected to have better sense we must do whatever
we can to repair the mischief. Therefore Fluff C. Foster sits right
there until he’s comfortable once more. There’s nothing to be done
around the kitchen for the next two or three hours, and seein’ how you
and the dog are bent on being surfmen, now is the chance to learn the
duties of a crew when there’s a wreck off shore, as in the case of the
_Three Brothers_. Every man needs have in his head the manœuvres to be
performed at such a time, and it’s all set down here in the regulations
under the head of ‘Station Bill.’”
“What do you mean by that, sir?” Benny asked as he took the book from
the cook’s outstretched hand.
“It shows the station of each man after the beach-wagon is on the
shore ready for business. You know that every member of the crew has a
number. Sam Hardy is 1; Joe Cushing, 2; Robbins, 3; Sawyer, 4, and so
on. Here, under the same numbers that the men answer to, is set down
exactly what must be done, with a few remarks to follow. Now, since all
that must be repeated at drill, it would be a good idea if you stowed
it away in your head.”
Benny began to read eagerly, understanding that if he had been familiar
with all this information when the _Three Brothers_ went ashore he
possibly might have been of more assistance, and until the cook called
him to assist in the work of preparing dinner he read and re-read the
following lines:
“No. 1. Place gun in position; provide and load with shot; train the
gun; bend the shot-line around the whip inside block; tend the left
part of the whip; hold the hawser for No. 2 to bend on the whip;
overhaul back of the whip, and, if to leeward, unbend ends and bend
outer end into traveller-block; if to windward, snap traveller-block
onto hawser, and bend outer end of whip into traveller-block; man fall
and left leg of crotch.
“No. 2. Place shot-line box in position; bend shot-line into shot;
train the gun; take a half-hitch with shot-line over tail of
whip-block; tend right part of whip; bend the lee part of whip onto
hawser; overhaul back whip, and, if to leeward, unbend ends and bend
inner end into traveller-block; if to windward, snap traveller-block
onto hawser and bend inner end of whip into travelling-block; man fall
and right leg of crotch.
“No. 3. Place shot-line box in position; stretch tackle (outer block);
haul left part of whip from reel; if to windward, reeve end of whip
through sand-anchor block; otherwise, bend ends of whip together; man
weather part of whip when sending off the hawser; haul in slack of
hawser; put on strap for outer block of tackle; man fall, left leg of
crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.
“No. 4. Unload buoy from cart; place crotch, hawser, and buoy in
position; stretch tackle (inner block); haul right part of whip from
reel; if to windward, reeve end of whip through sand-anchor block;
otherwise, bend ends of whip together; man weather part of whip when
sending off the hawser; haul in slack of hawser; hook on outer block of
tackle; man fall, right leg of crotch, and am shifting man on the whip.
“No. 5. Unload and bury sand-anchor; man the weather part of whip when
overhauling off the reel and sending off the hawser; haul in the slack
of the hawser and make a cat’s-paw in the end; man fall; belay fall,
and am shifting man on the whip.
“No. 6. Unload and bury sand-anchor; man the weather part of the whip
when overhauling off the reel; lighten the hawser to captain; snatch
bight of hawser into sand-anchor block; haul in slack of hawser; hook
inner block of tackle into cat’s-paw; man fall, centre of crotch, and
am shifting man on the whip.
“No. 7. Unload shovel and pick; assist to bury sand-anchor; man the
weather part of whip when overhauling off the reel and sending off the
hawser; haul in slack of hawser; man fall, centre of crotch, and am
shifting man on the whip.
“The exercise must be considered as a whole, and when a man has
performed one duty he will proceed to execute the next assigned him.
All must work together. While the captain, 1, and 2 are opening
communication with the gun and shot-line, 3, 4, 5, and 6 will have the
hawser and its connections ready for sending off and hauling taut.
“When practising, as soon as the gun is discharged, 6 will go to the
pole representing the wreck and haul off and make fast the whip and
hawser; unless some other person willing to perform that duty is
present, 4 throws the buoy off the cart that it may not interfere with
removing the gun from the cart.
“If through carelessness the shot-line has been faked too tightly upon
the pins, instead of forcing it off the pins by the bottom board, which
is liable to split, raise the frame and remove a few of the bottom
fakes with the hand, when the remainder will fall off into its place in
the box.
“The sand-anchor must be opened, its sides at right angles to each
other, and buried upon its flat in a narrow trench of sufficient depth,
say two feet, and the trench filled in solidly about the anchor.
“In many instances, after communication is made with the wreck, as many
as two or three hundred yards of shot-line will be left in the box.
The captain must be governed by circumstances as to the best method of
handling the surplus line. If there is no danger of the wreck going
to pieces, spare line may be hauled on board the wreck, the shore end
being bent around the whip; but where great haste is necessary it must
be cut.
“Bending the bight of the shot-line around the whip is not recommended,
as the portion inshore is liable to foul the whip.
“Cases may occur when, instead of unreeling the whole whip from the
reel, both parts of the whip must be cut as soon as the whip-block
is fast on board the wreck. Keepers must act with promptness in such
cases, remembering that everything must be sacrificed to save life.
“The point where the hawser is bent into the ship must be as far as
possible outside of where the ends of the whip are bent together, in
order that when the hawser reaches the wreck the whip bend will be well
inshore, out of the reach of the shipwrecked people, for should they,
through excitement or ignorance, cast that off instead of the hawser,
communication would be broken and much delay result.
“The whip should be worked moderately slack, unless extreme cold or
drifting ice makes it necessary that it should be kept out of the water.
“Instances may occur when the wreck is breaking up rapidly, and there
is not sufficient time to send off the whip and hawser, or the crew
are too much exhausted to haul the gear off. In such cases, after
communication is made by means of the shot-line, cut the shot-line, and
bend the shore end onto a single part of the whip; when the end of the
whip has reached the wreck, bend the bight of the whip into the slings
of the buoy (block removed), and let the buoy be pulled off through the
surf to the wreck.”
Benny was an apt pupil, and before nightfall could repeat word for word
more than one-half of the Station Bill. It was his purpose to commit it
all to memory, but he was interrupted in the task late in the afternoon
by the return of Joe Cushing from the post-office, and it was such a
noisy home-coming that every member of the crew knew what he brought.
All save the lookout were in the building engaged upon various trifling
duties, when a series of yells from the outside brought the men to
their feet, and Sam Hardy cried:
“That’s Joe Cushing! He’s brought the mail, and you can count for a
certainty that in it is the answer from headquarters in regard to
Benny.”
Even Keeper Downey found it difficult to remain calm, for that Sam had
guessed correctly could be told by the Indian yells to which Joe was
giving vent, and it is little wonder that the crew, instead of waiting
for his entrance, went to the door to meet him, realizing as they did
that in a few moments would be known the views of the Superintendent
regarding the taking on of this new member.
Joe was coming at full speed, holding high above his head the
official-looking envelope, and, as if believing his comrades had not
been warned regarding the importance of what he brought, he shouted:
“Here’s the answer from the Department! It has been about as much as I
could do to keep myself from opening it.”
Tom Downey stretched out his hand, and there was just a shadow of
anxiety to be seen on his face as he took the missive.
The crew gathered around him; but Benny, trembling with apprehension,
stood a short distance away holding Fluff in his arms.
“If it should be that we’ve got to go away now when things are fixed so
nice, we’d be awful sorry, Fluffy; but we’ll try not to let the crew
know we’re feeling bad,” he whispered to the dog while keeping his eyes
fixed upon Sam Hardy.
Tom Downey was too impatient to permit of his reading carefully the
communication from the Chief of the Service. He first glanced quickly
over the letter, catching a word here and there, until understanding
the proposition, when he cried joyously:
“It’s all right, boys! Benny’s entitled to stay here so long as we pay
his bills!”
“I knew the Superintendent wasn’t the kind of a man that would turn
a cold shoulder on a lad like him,” Sam Hardy said approvingly; and
patting Benny on the head, he added, “Now, lad, you’re regularly one of
us, seein’ how you’re here by authority, an’ I’ll venture to say that
before spring comes you’ll have the drill at your tongue and fingers’
ends with the best of us.”
Benny, burying his face in Fluff’s silken hair, whispered to the dog:
“We’re awful lucky, Fluff, and we’ll make sure the crew won’t feel
sorry because of helping us.”
“Ain’t crying when good news has come, are you, lad?” Sam asked,
raising the boy’s chin until he could look into his face.
“Indeed, I’m not, Mr. Hardy. I just wanted to remind Fluff so he’d
never forget it, that we was bound to work mighty hard to pay all hands
of you for being so good.”
“I reckon that part of it will be all right, my son. We’re gettin’ full
value for all we give.”
That which added to Benny’s pleasure was the fact that from the keeper
to the cook, every member of the crew exhibited the liveliest joy
because he was allowed to remain at the station, and an evening never
to be forgotten by the lad was this which followed the receipt of the
letter from headquarters.
Half a dozen times over was Tom Downey called upon to read the
communication from their Chief, and if it be true that a person’s right
ear tingles when good is spoken of them, the Superintendent of the
Life-Saving Service must have been surprised because of the warmth of
that organ.
Even amid the general rejoicing Benny found opportunity to study the
_Regulations_ and observing him at this work Sam Hardy proposed that
Keeper Downey write an additional paragraph to the Station Bill.
“Benny must have a regular duty, and we’ll call him No. 8. Set down
exactly what part he is to play, an’ let him learn it with the rest.”
That night when Benny, with Fluff in his arms, stood on the threshold
to bid his kindly guardians a “good-night,” all hands replied in
concert:
“Good-night, No. 8.”
“That means Fluff as well as me,” Benny cried with a laugh, and as he
laid down to sleep that night “No. 8” was an exceedingly happy boy.
On the following morning Benny had a serious proposition to make Sam
Hardy, and after his portion of the morning’s work had been done he
called the surfman aside.
“I want to ask a favor of you, Mr. Hardy.”
“Well, lad, what is it?”
“All hands call me No. 8, so that proves I’m regularly one of the crew,
don’t it?”
“Of course it does, Benny.”
“Then I should have some regular work.”
“So you have, my lad. You’re doin’ as much now as the cook, an’ some of
the boys are beginnin’ to think you can take his place next season.”
“My work in the kitchen don’t count. It’s only enough to take up the
spare time. What I mean is, I ought to have a share in all that the
crew does.”
“What are you drivin’ at, Benny? Suppose you talk it right out plain,
an’ then I’ll understand the quicker.”
“It’s this, Mr. Hardy: I want to go on patrol duty with you every
night, no matter what time you start out.”
“Now look here, Benny, there are some nights when that’s precious hard
work, and almost any time in the winter it’s no joke to turn out, say
about midnight, an’ walk this blooming shore four hours.”
“I know that, sir; but yet it will toughen me to do it, and after a
spell I won’t mind it any more’n you do.”
“But what’s your idea in doin’ such work?”
“I want to grow into so much of a surfman that I can see at night the
same as you do. When the _Three Brothers_ was sighted I couldn’t make
her out at all.”
“It’s trainin’ your eyes you’re after, eh?”
“Yes, sir, perhaps that’s what you could call it.”
“Well, I’ll talk with Downey, and see what he thinks of the scheme,
although I’m willing to say right up an’ down now that I don’t just
like it. The job is too rough for a little chap like you.”
“I must get hardened to bad weather, and the cold, and all that sort of
thing if I’m goin’ to stay in the life-saving service.”
Sam turned away with a laugh, and not until evening did he make any
reply to the request.
Then, when the hour was near at hand for him to go on patrol, he said,
speaking to all hands, including Fluff’s master:
“Benny claims the right to do patrol duty, if he’s No. 8 in this
’ere crew, an’ the keeper has given permission for him to act as my
apprentice, exceptin’ when the weather is too rough. Therefore, Mr.
Benjamin H. Foster, you’ll make ready for a four hours’ turn, and
the thermometer is standin’ well down to zero. If this night’s work
don’t give you a different idea of what it’s fitting a lad should do;
then I’ll say there’ll be no use in our tryin’ to keep you out of the
Service.”
If Benny suffered from the cold during this four hours’ tramp, Sam
Hardy was none the wiser regarding it, for he held the pace regardless
of rough ways or banks of snow, plodding sturdily by the surfman’s
side throughout the entire time. But it was observed by Sam Hardy that
on their return to the station he went immediately to bed, and next
morning, in relating the experiences of the previous night to the
keeper privately, Sam added:
“He’s all grit, that lad is, an’ when he’s older grown I allow he’ll be
an ornament to this ’ere station.”
The cook declared, after dinner had been eaten and the apartments set
to rights, that it was necessary for Keeper Downey to issue a positive
order preventing No. 8 from doing more than his share of the work,
and Benny, his face crimsoning with pleasure, would have turned the
conversation into some other channel.
“I mean what I say,” the cook added emphatically. “There’s to be a
regular Kitchen Station Bill made out for you, else before many days
I’ll find myself idle. So let it be understood, No. 8, that you’re only
to do so much of the work as belongs to your part, and in the future
you and Fluff C. Foster will have longer loafin’ spells. If you study
the _Regulations_ after dark, I reckon it will be enough.”
Tom Downey had begun questioning the cook as to what share of the work
Benny really did, when the noise of bells was heard outside, and a
moment later came a knock at the door followed almost immediately by
the entrance of Mr. Bradford--he whom, as the crew claimed, Fluff had
rescued from drowning.
He greeted the men cheerily; had a kindly word for Benny; but took
Fluff in his arms petting him affectionately.
“I wasn’t satisfied with leaving matters as they were day before
yesterday, so far as this little fellow was concerned,” he said,
addressing himself to Keeper Downey. “But for the dog I should have
been drowned, and as Benny refused me the satisfaction of repaying
Fluff, I claim the right to bestow upon him what the government would
award either of you for a timely rescue of life.”
While speaking he had drawn from his pocket a daintily fashioned silver
collar to which was attached a small gold token.
“It is a medal of honor made from a coin, and inscribed: ‘To Fluff C.
Foster for having saved the life of Francis P. Bradford, January 2,
1894.’ That much I am entitled to give, regardless of what the dog’s
master may think, and I only hope it may be in my power at some future
time to bestow upon Benny a more substantial token of regard.”
Mr. Bradford handed the collar and medal to the boy as he ceased
speaking, and the latter gazed alternately at the gift and the dog, who
was sitting bolt upright on his hind legs as if begging to be told the
cause of this sudden commotion.
“Well?” Sam Hardy said interrogatively as Benny remained silent. “Well,
No. 8, ain’t there anything more to it? The dog is coaxin’ you to thank
the gentleman.”
“I know he is, Mr. Hardy; but how can I do it?” Benny replied with a
long-drawn sigh of delight. “It’s splendid, though it ain’t none too
good for a dog like Fluff, an’ I’d rather he’d have this than all the
money in the world. Just to think!” and the lad turned to address the
entire crew. “Fluff has got a regular life-saving medal.”
“It’s a big thing,” Keeper Downey replied with a nod of satisfaction,
“an’, what’s more, Fluff is the only one of this crew that has won such
a distinction.”
“If anything was needed, after the letter from the Superintendent, to
show that he an’ I were members of the crew, this would be enough,
wouldn’t it?”
“It’s as good as a commission from the Treasury Department,” Joe
Cushing replied gravely.
“If you would like to make the change, I can buy you something, instead
of spending so much money for the dog,” Mr. Bradford said, with a
meaning glance at the men. “It will be an easy matter to exchange the
collar and medal for cheaper metal, and give you the difference.”
“Take this away from Fluff?” Benny cried in alarm. “Why, I wouldn’t
have it done for the world! Now I’m a regular member of this crew
I don’t need anything, an’ even if I did, he should have the best,
because he’s the one who saved your life, an’ I’ll get a heap of
pleasure out of looking at it.”
“I have also sent out here ten pounds of sugar in lumps, so that you
may remind him of me at least once every day,” Mr. Bradford said,
apparently getting as much pleasure out of the presentation as did
Benny, “and because of thus rewarding Fluff, I want you to do me a
favor.”
“What is it, sir?” Benny asked in surprise.
“I want the privilege of giving you a full suit of clothes. Here is an
order on a tailor, who will make whatever you may decide upon.”
While speaking the gentleman had pressed into Benny’s hand a slip of
paper, and before the lad could reply Sam Hardy cried in delight:
“Of course No. 8 will do you the favor of takin’ it, an’, what’s more,
it’s a mighty lucky thing for him. Here he has just been made a member
of the crew, but hasn’t got a uniform to wear when he goes into the
city. That order, Mr. Bradford, is just the ticket, and with Fluff C.
Foster rigged out in a solid silver collar with a gold medal of honor,
and Benjamin H. Foster in a regulation suit, brass buttons an’ all,
this ’ere station will blossom out in regular shape.”
Benny was won by the idea of wearing a uniform like his comrades; but
he looked toward Mr. Downey as if asking his permission to accept the
gift.
“Take it, my lad, and thank the gentleman by so doing,” the keeper said
with a smile. “What’s more, you shall go into the city with Sam Hardy
to-morrow morning and be measured for the uniform.”
There was a wondrously bright gleam in Benny’s eyes as, taking the dog
suddenly in his arms, he said to the generous visitor:
“We thank you awfully much, Mr. Bradford, an’ you may be sure Fluff
will never do anything to make you ashamed of having given him such a
beautiful collar and medal.”