CHAPTER XIII
TWO ARE MISSING
Night came on; dark, heavy clouds were hanging low in the sky, the windshrieking dismally.
The jackies, however, were happy. They were not disturbed by the roar ofthe gale. So rough was the sea, however, and so heavy the roll of theship, that it was decided not to set the mess tables for the eveningmeal. The men sat around on the lower decks, legs crossed, balancingthemselves and their plates of food, joking and laughing over the littlemishaps of their companions.
Down in the captain's quarters matters were little better. Most of thetime the commanding officer was holding to his own table with bothhands. A plate of hot soup had just turned turtle, landing in his lap,soiling the spotless uniform that he had put on after returning from thebridge. The officers in the ward room, where all the other commissionedofficers eat, were having their own troubles.
All at once there was a yell. Some tumbled over backwards in theirchairs, while others sprang up and scrambled out of harm's way, as ahuge object came hurling through the air. It landed full force on themess table, the table going down beneath it with a mighty crash.
The dark object was the ward-room's upright piano. The captain, hearingthe crash, rushed in from his quarters adjoining.
"What's wrong?" he shouted.
"Nothing, captain. There's music in the air, that's all," answered theship's surgeon. This put all hands in good humor, even though a quantityof china had been utterly ruined.
China was not troubling the jolly tars forward, nor were they disturbedover the wet decks on which they were sitting. Every man of them wassoaked with salt water.
In the galley kettles were sliding across the range, and from there outon to the deck. Food was everywhere, except where it should have been.
Suddenly the jackies on the seven-inch gun deck set up a yell ofdelight. A steward descending a ladder carrying a kettle of hot beanssuddenly lost his hold.
With a howl, he plunged headlong. Sam Hickey chanced to be right in thepath of the human projectile. The kettle of boiling hot beans turnedturtle just as it was hovering over the red-headed boy's head. Down camekettle, beans and all over Sam's head. Part of the contents scattered,catching other unlucky jackies who were sitting near him.
Hickey's yells could be heard above the roar of the storm, as hescrambled madly to his feet, tugging at the kettle to get it off hishead. The handle had dropped down under his chin.
Shipmates sprang to his rescue, else Sam would have been seriouslyburned. As it was, his face was red and swollen, his hair was mattedwith beans and his eyes glared angrily.
"You did that on purpose," he howled, starting for the unlucky steward.
"Yes, of course he did," urged several voices. "He ought to be dumpedoverboard for the fishes."
"No; he's too tough, they wouldn't eat him."
The steward himself settled the question of his disposal, by scramblingup the companionway as fast as he could go. He knew the jackies wellenough to be aware that they would like nothing better than having somesport with the "sea cook," as they call every man connected with thekitchen department.
"Hello, Sam, what's the matter?" questioned Dan Davis, as he shot acrossthe deck head first, having lost his grip on the frame of thewater-tight door where he had been standing for a moment.
"Look out! Here comes the dynamite projectile!" warned a voice.
Dan landed among a group of sailors, and what food they had in hand wasscattered all over that part of the deck. The next second he foundhimself sprawling in the middle of the deck, where they had hurled him.
Hickey grinned.
"What's the matter with you?"
"I must have been fired with a charge of smokeless powder, as I don'tsee any smoke," laughed Dan. "Well, you are a sight! What happened toyou?"
"Beans!" jeered the jackies.
"I thought you looked like one of the fifty-seven varieties," laughedDan Davis, at which there was a loud uproar.
"Throw him overboard. It's them kind of jokes that causes waterspoutsand earthquakes. Don't you ever dare say anything like that again,Dynamite, or we'll forget you're a shipmate and bounce you!"
"You had better begin right now, then," retorted Dan defiantly. "I'mready for any kind of a row you want to start. It's a good night for arough-and-tumble. We haven't anything else to do. Come on, if you arelooking for trouble."
Dan squared off as if ready for a fight. Just then the ship gave aheavy lurch. The Battleship Boy disappeared under one of the big guns.His messmates hauled him out by the feet, amid shouts of laughter, andbegan tossing him about as if he were a ball.
Davis took his rough treatment good-naturedly.
"Thought you were going to fight?" jeered the jackies.
"No; like Sam Hickey, I've changed my mind," laughed Dan.
"Hark!"
"What is it?" All hands stopped to listen.
"It's the bugle. They're piping some squad to quarters. I wonder what'sup now?"
"That's the whaleboat crews they're piping up," nodded Dan. "I guess theboats are being washed away."
"There goes another call."
"Starboard seven-inch gun crew called to quarters!" shouted Gunner'sMate Davis. "Jump for it, boys!"
There was a rush of those of the gun crew who were on the deck with Dan.They well knew that something was wrong at their station. For all theyknew they might have been called to work the gun; still such a call washardly to be looked for during the mess hour.
Reaching the seven-inch turret, they found the place flooded with saltwater. With every lurch of the ship a great column was forced in, as ifthrough a gigantic hose. The first charge of this caught Sam Hickey,sweeping him clear out into the corridor.
Sam came back, choking and coughing, yelling at every one in hisexcitement.
"Attention!" roared the gun captain.
"Attention!" repeated Dan Davis. He saw instantly what had happened.
"The steel buckler plates have been wrenched loose!"
These buckler plates are employed to cover the opening in the side ofthe ship about the guns. Without them the ship would be flooded in heavyweather.
It was not an easy task that had been set for the gun crew. Every manknew that.
"Who will volunteer to do the work outside?" demanded the gun captain.
"I'll attend to that," answered Dan promptly.
"Me, too," added Sam, without hesitation. "I can't get any wetter than Iam."
"You'll get something besides wet," said the captain. "Very well, youtwo go out. Hold fast! Look out for yourselves."
The Battleship Boys were climbing from the turret ere the words were outof his mouth.
"Don't try any tricks, Sam," advised Davis.
"Better take that advice to yourself. If I remember rightly you wererunning a race, or something, when you fell off the cage mast to-day.Woof!"
A heavy sea smashed into them, laying them flat on the deck. The boyshung on until the sea had rolled over them. They were high up on thesuperstructure, where the seven-inch guns are located. Not a thing couldthey see in the darkness, but they knew their way about as well as if ithad been broad daylight.
The buckler plates were thrust in from the inside of the turret, theduty of the lads outside being to make fast the catches which wereemployed to hold the buckler plates in position in heavy weather. Underordinary conditions it was not necessary to set these emergency catches.It had not been done in this instance, consequently the plates werebattered in, flooding the deck and all that part of the ship.
"All ready out here!" shouted Dan.
With a grating sound the bucklers were shoved into position.
"Click!"
The catches snapped into place.
"Right!" bellowed Hickey, placing his lips close to the side of themuzzle of the gun.
"Come, let's get out of here," called Dan.
"Look out for yourself. Duck! Grab!" roared Sam.
"Wha--what----"
Dan did not
complete the sentence. A wall of water struck the turretwith a report like that of the three-inch forward rifles.
From the depths of the great green wave came a muffled yell. SamHickey's grip had been wrenched loose from the guard rope at the side ofthe muzzle of the seven-inch.
At the same instant both lads felt themselves lifted from their feet.
Then down, down they dropped. It seemed to them that hours were consumedin that terrible drop. They felt themselves falling into an abyss of thesea. Such was not the case, however, though their situation was, at thatinstant, every bit as serious as if they had in reality been fallinginto the sea. As it was, they were being swept toward it.
The smash of the wave having carried them from their feet, rolled themalong the upper or spar deck, dropping them down some twenty feet to thequarter-deck, that was all awash. Fortunately the water below caughtthem, or they might have been killed in the twenty-foot fall to thequarter-deck.
Suddenly Sam came into violent contact with something that he grippedanxiously. That something did not give way. Dan met with a similarexperience, and there the lads hung, neither knowing what had become ofthe other, seas smiting them, threatening every second to hurl them onand into the sea itself.
In the meantime those of the gun crew had returned to the gun deck todry their clothes. The gun captain, however, waited for the return ofthe boys who had gone outside.
"I wonder what has become of those boys," he mused, peering out throughthe hatchway that he opened the merest crack. There was neither sightnor sound of them.
"Davis! Hickey!" he bellowed.
His effort brought no answer.
The gun captain knew no personal fear. He stepped out, closing the hatchbehind him quickly. He clung there, watching, listening, then shouting.All at once he turned and hurried back to the gun deck. Sending word tothe executive officer, he informed that officer of the absence of thetwo boys.
The captain heard the news a moment later, and a stir ran all throughthe ship.
"They're overboard. Nothing could save them, sir," advised the executiveofficer.
"Man the searchlights. Both tops!" commanded the captain, now allactivity. "Pipe all hands to stations!"
The Battleship Boys in Foreign Service; or, Earning New Ratings in European Seas Page 13