“ALL ABOARD!”
“That was the go-ashore whistle, Hugh! It means we’re due to leave the
dock in five or ten minutes more!”
“And still nothing to be seen of those two hold-out scouts, Sam Winter
and the latest recruit, Monkey Stallings. I’m beginning to believe
they’ve got adrift seeing the sights of old Boston, and will lose the
number of their mess.”
“What fools some fellows can be, Hugh! As for me, now that I’m on the
deck of this bully boat, nothing could hire me to go ashore again till
the cruise is over. A life on the wide, wide sea for me, tral-la-la!”
and Billy Worth danced a few steps as though he might already imagine
himself a seasoned old salt practicing what is known as the “sailor’s
hornpipe.”
“Better wait and see before you boast too loud, Billy,” returned the
scout master, grimly. “I’ve heard about all sorts of terrible things
that happen to landsmen the first time they feel the roll of the ship
under them. Solid earth may seem like the finest thing you can think of
before many hours.”
“Huh! don’t make me out a regular greeny, Chief. Remember I’ve sailed on
a bay before. I reckon some fellows with weak stomachs will double up;
but it’s different with me.”
“You never can tell,” Hugh remarked dryly. “So I say it’s wise not to
blow your horn too loud before you know. But whatever can be keeping
those boys? Looks as if we might only count six noses at roll-call
instead of the full eight.”
The two members of the Wolf Patrol were leaning over the side of the
Government vessel of the type known as a scout cruiser. This one had
been fitted up especially for the convenience and education of the young
jack tars who thronged the deck and the dock nearby, dressed for the
most part in white togs, and with all the airs of experienced sea-going
mariners.
These jaunty looking fellows constituted a branch of the auxiliary arm
of the United States Government known as the Naval Reserve, upon which
Uncle Sam expected to call immediately should any war break out, to man
his extra ships, and defend the coasts against an enemy.
They were from all walks of life, and as a rule bright, eager young men
who knew considerable about what the duties aboard a warship were like.
They had nearly all been afloat on preceding summers, since this cruise
was a regular institution. Still, they desired to learn all possible new
wrinkles connected with their vocation as voluntary naval men; and the
two weeks’ cruise along the New England coast was going to widen their
knowledge wonderfully.
Just what the Boy Scouts were expected to do aboard the _Vixen_, Hugh
did not as yet fully know. It was supposed, however, that they would be
very useful in many capacities, especially when landing parties went
ashore, defended by the big guns of the cruiser, with a force concealed
behind land defenses to carry out the part of a hostile army.
It had all been a piece of tremendous good luck, this chance that came
to some of the scouts to accompany the Naval Reserve on this summer
cruise. Such a thing had, so far as Hugh knew, never been dreamed of
before; and it all came about through the gratitude of the rich
aeronaut, Mr. Perkins, whom Hugh and several of his chums had rescued
from the top of a tall tree, where he had been stranded when his runaway
balloon lurched and threw him out.
It seemed that he was a personal friend of the Secretary of the Navy; in
fact they had been old-time chums in their school days. And Professor
Perkins had used his influence with the Naval Department so as to have
this wonderful invitation extended to the troop in which he had taken
such a keen interest.
The scouts had all left the home town on the scheduled train, and before
five that evening were aboard the cruiser, wild with delight over the
prospect that loomed up ahead. They were given quarters forward with the
men, and being accustomed to camping, believed they would be able to
make themselves very comfortable while sleeping in hammocks.
And indeed, that night they had no complaint to make, though it did seem
pretty noisy around the docks, especially to lads accustomed to the
quiet of country life.
On the following day they were allowed shore leave with explicit
instructions to be aboard at one o’clock, since that was close to the
hour set for sailing; and as Hugh put it, “neither time, nor tide, nor
yet Government war vessels wait for any man.”
Here one o’clock had come, and as yet two of the scouts had failed to
show up, so that Hugh was naturally bothered, for he considered this
tardiness inexcusable in boys who had been taught the value of keeping
their engagements to the letter.
All of the other scouts had lined up on that side of the vessel with
scores of the Naval Reserves, deeply interested in what was going on. As
is usually the case when a boat is due to move out, there was great
confusion. Trucks were being rushed this way and that, to get some late
luggage or food supplies aboard; officers were shouting orders; men
bidding good-by to wives and friends; and all in all, it was a sight the
boys would never be apt to forget no matter what they might experience
in coming days, such an indelible impression did it make on their young
minds.
Again did the long and shrill whistle start blowing with frequent
breaks. The Reserves, knowing that this meant “all aboard,” broke away
from the various little groups on the crowded dock and started up the
gangways. Gradually order was coming out of apparent chaos, and it could
be seen that every man was now aboard the _Vixen_; the vessel trembled
from the escaping steam that roared like a giant, impatient to be off.
“Too bad,” said Hugh, as this racket suddenly ceased, and he saw the men
begin to unfasten the heavy hawsers that held the cruiser close to the
wharf. “Those fellows have missed the chance of their lives.”
“Look! there comes one on the run!” exclaimed Walter Osborne near by.
“It’s Sam Winter, and he’ll just make it, and no more!” echoed Alec
Sands, who probably felt a deeper interest in the success or failure of
the runner than any of the other boys, since he and Sam represented the
Otter Patrol aboard.
The six scouts started a cheer to encourage the runner, and recognizing
the familiar signal of the scout’s troop, Sam looked up and waved his
hand. He just managed to set his foot on the last gangway as it trembled
on the rise; and the next moment was dragged aboard the boat, saved by
an inch.
“That makes seven, anyhow!” said Billy. “But that new recruit, Monkey
Stallings, is left in the lurch. Wow! what’s that I see back yonder,
Hugh? Looks mighty like a scout in uniform breaking through the crowd,
doesn’t it? Say, they’ve gone and got that boy blocked so he just can’t
make it in time! Now isn’t that too bad? Whatever can he do, I’d like to
know? So near and yet so far, with the boat beginning to move out, too.
Poor Monkey, I’m sorry for you, sure I am!”
“Oh! look at that! Look at him, boys!” shrieked Blake Merton.
“It’s going to be a cold day when Monkey gets left, let me tell you!”
cried Don Miller, who, being the leader of the Fox Patrol, to which the
new recruit belonged, probably knew more about the varied
accomplishments of Monkey than any other scout.
Seeing that he had no chance to break through the solid crowd that
barred his passage, the recruit had leaped up to the top of a pile of
freight on the dock, and was even then skipping along almost over the
heads of the dense mass of cheering spectators, clinging to all sorts of
friendly objects, and exhibiting a nimbleness that caused his seven
comrades fairly to hold their breath.
The entire crowd had by this time begun to understand that one of the
Boy Scouts was in danger of being left behind; and like all crowds, this
one started to send out volleys of encouraging shouts amidst much
laughter. For the moment even bitter partings were utterly forgotten;
everyone present became vitally interested in whether the daring and
nimble lad was going to make it or not.
Monkey had apparently sized up the situation at a single glance. All of
his efforts were directed to reaching the end of the pier in time to
make a wild leap as the boat swept past, for she was going out stern
first as was customary.
There never was greater excitement over the sailing of a vessel with a
consignment of the Naval Reserve aboard, and all on account of one
belated passenger who seemed bent on making a last desperate effort not
to be left. The sympathies of every witness had been aroused, and
encouraging cheers doubtless nerved the boy to even greater exertions.
As the crisis came, Hugh became rigid with anxiety, for it looked nip
and tuck as to whether Monkey would land on the boat or drop with a
splash in Boston harbor.
Monkey managed to catch hold of the rail, and clung there like a
squirrel does to the trunk of a tree while cheer after cheer greeted the
successful carrying out of the daring act. And then friendly jackies
reached down to lift him over, for it seemed as though every fellow
aboard felt that he would be glad to give the plucky scout a helping
hand.
Of course the other boys considered that Monkey’s achievement shed more
or less luster on the entire organization; and for the next half hour
they felt themselves of considerable importance aboard that boat, and
doubtless puffed out their chests more or less in consequence.
Alas! pride is often doomed to have a fall, and it was almost due in
this case, though few of those lads suspected from what quarter their
Waterloo was fated to come.
They sat there looking back at the beautiful scene, as the _Vixen_
passed down the harbor. Bunker Hill monument stood up like a finger
pointing to the heavens, and as all the boys had climbed to its top the
first thing that morning, they paid more attention to this than any
other feature that opened before them.
“There’s Nantasket Beach!” they heard someone, who was probably a Boston
man, say near by, as he pointed to a strip of shore that seemed to be
given up to all manner of merry-go-rounds, Ferris wheels, and the like,
to be found at shore resorts such as have become known under the name of
“Coney Islands.”
“Sorry we didn’t have time to run down there,” remarked Billy, who was
moving uneasily about along the deck. “Mebbe we’ll get a chance to do it
when we come back. Let’s see, that will be in about twelve days, won’t
it, Hugh?”
“Yes, but I hope you’re not counting the days already, Billy?” remarked
the other with a twinkle in his eye, for he suspected what was coming.
“What, me? Well, I should guess not. If it was forty days, it would make
me all the happier. But we must be getting out to sea, aren’t we, Hugh?
The boat has begun to dip the queer way they told me it would when it
had left the harbor behind. And say, what an odd, nasty motion it has,
too?”
“Oh! let up on that, Billy! Just as if we don’t know it without you
forcing the fact in our faces,” Walter Osborne told him, for Walter was
sitting there, holding his head in his hands, and apparently trying to
keep from seeing how things had begun to move up and down in that dizzy
fashion.
As the roll of the sea became more pronounced, for it was rather rough
outside, first one fellow and then another made some silly excuse and
slipped away. Several of the Reserves seemed to be deeply interested in
the green water and the white foam under the vessel’s side, for they
kept leaning over steadily.
Hugh was really the last to give in, and he only felt that he ought to
be looking after the other fellows who had gone below to their hammocks.
He found every one of the seven there “taking things easy” they assured
him, though several had white faces, and their merriment was rather
forced.
When supper time came along, Hugh and Alec Sands were the only scouts
who cared to answer the bugle call and attend mess; and even they did
not seem to have the customary scout appetite of which they had once
been so proud.