Four Afloat: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Water

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XIII--WHEREIN DAN TELLS A STORY AND TOM IS INCREDULOUS

  "By Jove!" murmured Bob.

  "Then you think--?" began Dan.

  "I think that the _Henry Nellis_ happened along this morning, sawSpencer Floyd out there in the tender, took him aboard and knocked holesin our boat in the hope of sinking her."

  "But--!" exclaimed Bob. Then he stopped and looked thoughtful. Finally henodded his head. "Yes, that's just about what happened," he concluded.

  "That's right," said Dan.

  "And he got Spencer again after all," added Tom unhappily.

  "Well, we did the best we could for him," said Nelson. "If we had kepthim aboard the officer would have got him."

  "But what I don't understand," said Bob, "is how Captain Sauder happenedto be here. If he expected the officers to catch Spencer and return himto Sanstable why did he leave there?"

  "We don't know that he did expect them to send Spencer back toSanstable. Maybe he told them to hold him here until he came."

  "That's it!" Tom cried. "And he was on his way here when he foundSpencer in the tender. So instead of coming into the harbor he just wenton."

  "Right-O," said Dan. "You're a regular Sherlock W. Holmes, Tommy."

  "That blamed old pirate was smarter than we were, after all," said Tomdisgustedly. "Couldn't we follow him and--and----?"

  "Take Spencer away by main force?" laughed Nelson. "I'm afraid not,Tommy. Especially as we don't know where the schooner has gone."

  "Spencer said she was going to Newfoundland, didn't he?" asked Tom.

  "And you propose that we follow it up there?"

  "But we might catch her before she got there!"

  "That would be a wild-goose chase for sure," said Dan. "No, I guesswe've done our duty by Spencer. After all, I dare say he will be able toput up with the captain for another voyage, although I'd hate to have todo it myself, and that's a fact."

  "Maybe Spencer will manage to slip away again," said Bob. "Let's hopeso, anyway."

  "You bet! Poor little cuss!" muttered Dan.

  Spencer's fate continued the subject for discussion all the rest of theday, but, as Dan had said, their duty in the affair seemed to have endedand it was decided that the next day, as soon as they could do so, theywould continue on to Newport for their mail and then to New York.

  They went for a long walk before supper-time, visiting the lighthouseand a life-saving station, and returning at six o'clock very hungry, sohungry, in fact, that the possibilities of the _Vagabond's_ larderseemed quite inadequate to the demands of the occasion. So they returnedto the hotel in the village and fared very well indeed. After supperthey adjourned to the writing room and levied on the hotel stationery.Everyone found plenty to write home about and for half an hour the pensscratched diligently. It was Tom whose ideas were exhausted first. Afteraddressing and sealing his letter and thumping a stamp on to the cornerof the envelope he picked up a newspaper and tilted himself back in hischair under the light. Two minutes later the front legs of the chair hitthe floor with a crash.

  "The _Sue_ won!" cried Tom.

  The others frowned but failed to look up from their letters.

  "I say, you chaps!" called Tom more loudly. "The _Sue_ won!"

  "For gracious sake, Tommy," protested Bob, "shut up! How do you thinkwe're going to write letters when----"

  "Oh, go ahead and write your old letters," grumbled Tom. "I thoughtyou'd want to know how it came out, that's all."

  "What's he talking about, Bob?" Dan asked.

  "I'm telling you that the _Sue_ won," answered Tom with dignity.

  "Won what?"

  "The race, you idiot!"

  "Sue who? What race?"

  "Who's being sued, Tommy?" asked Nelson, looking up from his sixth sheetof paper. Tom looked about him despairingly.

  "Say, you lunatics," he exclaimed after an eloquent silence, "stopgibbering a moment, will you? I'm trying to tell you that the _Sue_----"

  "Oh, Sioux!" said Nelson, turning back to the letter. "I thought youwere talking about some one suing some one. Anyone scalped yet? I'd liketo live out your way and see some of these Indian uprisings, Tommy. Arethere any Sioux in Chicago?"

  "There are plenty of Indians there," laughed Dan, "but maybe they're notSioux."

  Tom passed the insult disdainfully and retired behind his paper withinsulted dignity.

  "Anyhow, she won," he muttered defiantly.

  "Oh, hang!" exclaimed Bob, throwing down his pen, pushing back hischair, and making for Tom. "You're worse than Poe's raven, Tommy!" Hepulled the paper out of Tom's hands and whacked him over the head withit. "Now you speak out plainly and say what you're trying to say, Tommy,and get it over with. Go ahead! Tell us all about it quite calmly."

  "Tu-tu-tu-tell you!" stammered Tom crossly. "I've bu-bu-bu-beentu-tu-telling you for half an hour!"

  "Well, tell us again," said Bob soothingly. "Listen attentively,fellows; Tommy's got a great secret to unfold."

  "I tu-tu-tell you the Su-su-su-su-su----!"

  "It's all off!" exclaimed Dan despairingly. "Tommy's missing sparksagain!"

  "----Su-su-su-_Sue_ won the ru-ru-race!"

  "Oh! What race is that, Tommy?" asked Nelson.

  "Why, the ru-ru-race to New York."

  "The launch race?" cried Nelson. "Is that so? The _Sue_ won, eh?"

  "Good for her!" said Bob. "She was the smallest one of the lot, wasn'tshe, Nel?"

  "Yes. Is it in the paper, Tommy? Read it out to us."

  So Tom, appeased by the flattering if tardy interest, read the account.The _Sue_ had finished last in thirty-nine hours and five minutes,averaging an actual speed of 8.25 miles an hour. With her handicap ofthirteen hours and four minutes she won the race from her nearestcompetitor, the _Sizz_, by about an hour and three-quarters. The _Gnome_had made the best actual speed, averaging just under ten miles an hour.Of the twelve starters nine had finished the race. They had found goodweather all the way save while in the neighborhood of Martha's Vineyard,when the sou'wester had met them.

  "Say," asked Nelson when Tom had finished, "when was that race?"

  "Why," answered Tom, "it was the day before yesterday, wasn't it?"

  "Day before yesterday!" exclaimed Dan. "What are you talking about,Tommy?"

  "It was!"

  "Tommy's right," said Bob, "but----"

  "Well, if it doesn't seem like two weeks ago I'll eat my hat!" saidNelson.

  "I should say so!" agreed Dan. "Then we left Boston only four days ago?That can't be right, fellows!"

  "It is, though," answered Bob. "And to-morrow's Sunday. We haven't beencruising a week yet and enough has happened to fill a month."

  "That's so," said Dan. "If the rest of the trip is like the last fourdays--!" He stopped and whistled expressively.

  "It's been great fun," said Tom eagerly.

  "It sure has," Dan agreed. "Why, if----"

  But just then Barry, who had been curled up in the only upholsteredchair in the writing room, jumped to the floor, yawning loudly.

  "You're right, Barry," said Bob gravely. "It's time we went to bed.Let's finish our letters, fellows, and get back to the boat."

  The following morning the _Vagabond_, with the tender once more in placeon the cabin roof, chugged past Long Point at twenty minutes past eight.The weather was bright, but somewhat chill, with a bank of haze hidingthe horizon toward the east and south. But the weather signals werefluttering a prediction of good weather. Off Race Point Dan, who wasacting as navigator, turned the launch northeast and held her so untiloff the life-saving station. Then it was due east for some three miles,followed by a gradual turn southward along the gently curving coast. Forsome time almost the only objects of interest in sight, aside from thefew vessels which they saw, were the life-saving stations which dottedthe sandy coast at about four-mile intervals. Tom found their names onthe chart and called them off; Race Point, Peaked Hill Bar, High Head,Highland, and so on. They passed Highland Light at about ten o'clock,or,
as Dan, who had at length mastered the science of telling time bythe ship's clock, would have had it, four bells. Then came morelife-saving stations, and Tom, who was lolling in one of the chairs inthe cockpit, with the chart spread out ont his knees, said:

  "This is almost as bad along here for life-saving stations as the southcoast of Long Island. Remember how many we counted there that day wewent over to Fire Island, Nel?"

  "Yes, twenty-three, weren't there?"

  "No, that's your number," said Dan unkindly. "I remember perfectly thatwe counted twenty-nine."

  "Well, if they don't look out," said Tom, as he cast his eye down thechart, "they're going to run out of names pretty quick. Then what'llthey do?"

  "Number them, probably," Bob suggested.

  "Well, I'd take mighty good care not to get wrecked off Number Thirteenif I was a captain," said Dan.

  "Huh! Nobody would bother to rescue you, anyway," remarked Tom. "Thelookout would come in to the station and say, 'There's a two-mastergoing to pieces on the bar.' Then they'd get the telescope and lookthrough it, and the--the captain would say, 'Oh, it's the _Mary Ann_, ofNewark, Captain Dan Speede! Don't you know better than to wake me out ofa sound sleep for nothing?' Then everybody would go back to bed."

  When the laugh had subsided Dan said:

  "They might name the stations the way the folks named the streets of thetown out West."

  "How's that?" Nelson asked.

  "Well, it's a story dad used to tell. He said it happened in a place outin Illinois, I've forgotten the name of it."

  "Huh!" grunted Tom.

  "Some folks from the East went out there and settled," said Dan, "andafter a while they decided that, as the town was growing fast, they'dplat it out."

  "What's that?" asked Tom.

  "Why, lay it out."

  "Oh, was it dead? Thought you said it was growing?"

  "Shut up, Tommy, and let's hear the worst," said Nelson.

  "So they got the surveyors to work and pretty soon they had a nice mapof the town with streets and avenues running all around into theprairies. Then the question of naming the streets came up and theydecided they'd name them after the citizens of the place. So theystarted in and named the main street after the Mayor, Jones Street. Andso on until they'd used all the names and hadn't begun to get through.So they thought again and decided to use their wives' names. So they hadMary Street and Matilda Street and Jane Street, and still there werelots of streets left. So they started then on their children's names andused those all up. Then----"

  "It sounds like a blamed old lie to me," said Tom in a loud aside.

  "So," continued Dan, missing Tom's shin with his foot by half an inch,"after they'd got through with their Tommy Streets and their SusieStreets they didn't know what to do, because there were still a lot ofstreets away out that hadn't been named. So some one suggested that theymight use the names of the dogs. So they did that. There was HoverStreet and Tige Street and Towser Avenue----"

  "Towser Avenue!" giggled Tom.

  "And so on. And still there weren't enough names. So they began on thecats. Well, most every family had at least one cat and some had two orthree and the cats pretty nearly finished things up; they would havefinished things up only lots of the folks just called their cats'Kittie.' But they had Tabby Street and Maltie Street and--and lotsmore."

  "Our cat's name is Ben Hur," said Tom helpfully.

  "But there were about half a dozen streets still left and they were in afix until some one remembered that there were several canary birds inthe town. So they used up the canaries and had Dickie Street and FluffStreet and Lovey-Dovey Street----"

  "Oh, get out!" scoffed Tom.

  "You shut up! I'm telling this. And so then everything was all rightuntil they got to looking the map over very carefully and found thatthey had missed one of the principal thoroughfares, a fine, wideboulevard running from one side of the town to the other. Well, theywere in a fix then, for they had to have another name and they'd usedall the names up, as far as they could see. The Mayor of the town was awidower and for a while it looked as though he'd have to get marriedagain so they could name the boulevard after his wife. But he didn'tlike the idea of it; said he'd resign from office first; and about thattime the City Treasurer remembered that his youngest boy had a guineapig for a pet. They said that was fine, and they took a vote on it anddecided to name the boulevard after the guinea pig. Well, the CityTreasurer didn't remember what his boy called the pig and so they sentfor the boy. And when he came the Mayor asked him what he called hisguinea pig. 'Piggy,' said the boy. 'But that will never do,' said theMayor, 'haven't you a better name than that?' 'His name's Piggy,' saidthe boy. Well, they argued with him and argued with him, and pleaded andpleaded, the Mayor and all the Council, but it didn't do any good. Andthe City Treasurer told the boy he'd take him home and give him awhipping if he didn't change the guinea pig's name. But it didn't do anygood, for the boy said the guinea pig's name was 'Piggy,' always hadbeen 'Piggy' and couldn't be anything else. So if you go out there nowyou'll find that the finest street in the city is called PiggyBoulevard."

  "That's a likely yarn!" laughed Bob.

  "Well, that's the way it was told to me," answered Dan gravely.

  "Where did you say the place is?" asked Tom.

  "Oh, out in Illinois somewhere; near Chicago, I think."

  "More likely it was right in your own State," Tom retorted warmly.

  "Now, don't you two get to scrapping about your old villages," said Bob."Neither one of them is worth living in. Why don't you live in Portland?Then you won't feel ashamed of your town."

  "Huh!" jeered Tom. "Portland! S'pose I did live there and some one askedme what place I was from. 'Portland,' I'd say. 'Oh! Maine or Oregon?'they'd ask. No, sir, I don't want a city I have to explain. There's onlyone Chicago."

  "That's one good feature of it," said Dan.

  "Is that su-su-so?" began Tom pugnaciously. But Nelson intervened.

  "You're wrong about Portland, Tommy," he said. "They wouldn't ask you'Maine or Oregon'; they'd say 'Cement or salmon?'"

  "We don't make Portland cement in my town," said Bob disgustedly.

  "Of course they don't," Dan agreed. "Portland is famous only as havingbeen the birthplace of Henry Longworth Wadsfellow and of Robert WadeHethington."

  "There's another life-saving station, Tommy," said Nelson. "What's itsname?"

  "Pamet River. Now, there's a fool name; Pamet. But I suppose they gotcrazy in the head like a fish when they got this far. I'll bet the restof the names are terrors."

  "I heard that years and years ago all this part of the Cape was thickforest," observed Bob.

  "Oh, you hear funny things," said Dan.

  "Fact, though," Bob asserted.

  "Well, a few trees would help some now," said Nelson. "It's a lonelylooking stretch, isn't it? They say the State pays out thousands ofdollars every year planting beach grass along here."

  "What for?" asked Tom suspiciously.

  "To hold the sand," Nelson replied. "The wind and the ocean play hobwith the coast along here."

  "What's that ahead there on the shore?" asked Bob, pointing.

  "Looks like--Oh, I know! It's the wireless-telegraph station," answeredTom. "That's Wellfleet."

  "Let's get them to report us," suggested Dan. "'Passed South, launch_Vagabond_, Captain Tilford; all well except the cook who is sufferingwith stomach ache from too much candy.'"

  "First thing I heard this morning," said Nelson, "was Tommy chewing thatpeanut taffy stuff he bought. I'll bet his bunk is full of it."

  "I don't know about the bunk," said Bob dryly, "but I'll bet that Tommyis."

  At a little after two they reached Pollock Rip, passed within twohundred yards of Shovelful Light-ship and bore southwest around thelower corner of the Cape. Shoals were numerous and the water decidedlyunquiet. The _Vagabond_ plunged and kicked, rolled and tossed untilHandkerchief Light-ship had been left to port. Southward Nantucket laystretched upon the
water, and to the southwest the hills of Martha'sVineyard rose blue and hazy from the sea. There was much to see now, forNantucket Sound was well dotted with sails, while here and there smokestreamers proclaimed the presence of steamboats. One of these, anexcursion boat well loaded with passengers, passed close to starboard ofthem and they spent several moments in politely answering with thewhistle the fluttering handkerchiefs and waving hats. It was nearlyhalf-past five when the _Vagabond_, with over eighty-five miles to hercredit since morning, swung around East Chop Light, chugged intoVineyard Haven Harbor and dropped her anchor off the steamship wharf.

  "To-day's cruise," said Nelson, while they were sprucing up for anevening ashore, "goes to show the difference between poor gasoline andgood gasoline. I'd like to fill a launch up with some of those StandardOil people, put some of that Sanstable gasoline in her tank and set herfifty miles offshore; that's what I'd like to do!"

  They walked over to Cottage City and had dinner--and oh, didn't it tastegood!--at a big hotel, returning to the launch at nine o'clock through asweet-scented summer night and tumbling into bed as soon as their sleepybodies allowed.