CHAPTER XII
THROUGH THE OPEN DOOR
Weary were the hours, even fraught with anxiety as they were, thatNed, Bob, and Jerry passed aboard the drifting craft. Notwithstandingthe presence of many of their comrades in arms, there was a sense ofloneliness on the vast expanse of the waters of the Atlantic.
Had the _Sherman_ been proceeding along under her own power, lesseningeach hour the miles that separated her from the shores of America, thisfeeling would not have manifested itself. But as it was, with every oneready for the trip home, which, for this unavoidable cause, could notbe completed, the sense of the vastness and loneliness of the ocean, onwhich the troopship could only drift, filled the boys’ hearts.
With the acknowledgment on the part of the engineers that the wirelessapparatus could no longer issue appeals for help, all that remained tobe done in connection with that was to wait for the possible chancethat some of the messages previously sent out would be answered. Tothis end one man was kept constantly on duty, with the rubber receiversclamped to his ears. And from the strained look on his face it was easyto guess that his task, simple as it might seem, was no sinecure.
“Why don’t they rig up some kind of sail?” asked several of thesoldiers who clustered on the decks, a few forming a knot around Ned,Bob, and Jerry, for those lads had let it be known that they had beentalking with one of the wireless men, and, in a manner, spoke as thosehaving authority.
“That’s it!” chimed in another impatient one. “If we can’t steam weought to be able to sail. I’ve often read stories of where a steamerlost a propeller or something, and the sailors rigged up a mast and gothome all right.”
“They rigged up a jury mast--I’ve read about that, too,” said another.“Why can’t we do that here, and blow home?”
“Yes, why can’t we?” asked others. “Let’s send a delegation to thecaptain and ask him!”
This seemed to find considerable favor, and it might have been carriedinto effect but for the fact that just then a peculiar tremor whichcould mean but one thing was felt throughout the ship.
“The engines have started!” cried Ned.
“That’s the throb of the propeller, sure enough!” added Bob.
“We’re moving!” came from Jerry, and a chorus of delighted cheersgreeted this announcement.
There was no question as to the last statement. The _Sherman_ was,indeed, moving slowly through the water. Very slowly, indeed. Themotion was hardly perceptible at first, but it was undoubted. Soldierafter soldier, hearing the news and feeling the vibration, looked overthe side and verified Jerry’s announcement.
Like wild-fire rumors flew about the transport. The chief one, and thatmost readily believed, because it was the one that every one desired tobelieve, was this:
“The engines have been repaired. Now we’ll get home!”
And for a time this seemed true. The _Sherman_ gathered headway, andsoon began moving more swiftly. But, even at that, her speed wasnothing like what it had been at the beginning of the voyage.
“I guess we had the wrong dope, Ned,” remarked Jerry, as the threechums discussed the situation. “It couldn’t have been a bomb explosionafter all, or they couldn’t have fixed up the engines.”
“Well, I don’t know that I’ll go so far as to admit that. There mayhave been a bomb explosion all right, but, even then, they might havebeen able to make repairs. Anyhow, we’re moving.”
“But we haven’t heard anything about the information we gave,” saidBob; “and the marines are still on guard at that cabin--at least somesentries are there. I passed the door a little while ago.”
“And we haven’t had a sight of our pepper-pot friend since that guardwas stationed,” added Ned. “I feel sure he’s in there, and that hetried to blow up the ship.”
“Well, he didn’t make out very well, for we’re on our way once more,”went on Bob. “And now I feel like eating again! Come on, fellows, let’sscout around and see if there’s a chance to get some extra grub.”
Bob’s face, that had been gloomy all day (an unusual thing for him)cleared now. He was leading the way to the galley, followed by Nedand Jerry, when the throbbing and vibration of the craft, whichunmistakably told of engines working, suddenly ceased.
The three chums gazed blankly at one another, and all about them othersoldiers looked alarmed.
“What’s that?” cried Ned.
“Don’t tell me she’s stopping again!” exclaimed Bob.
“She certainly has stopped, but she may start up again,” voiced Jerry.
But as the minutes passed and the _Sherman_ continued to lose headwayin the smooth sea, the fears of the three chums and their companionsbecame confirmed.
A little later word was circulated about the ship that the engineshad broken down again. And this time more completely than before. Thetemporary repairs that had been made only caused a worse break in themachinery when the second accident happened.
“Well, it wasn’t a bomb explosion this time,” said Jerry, when it wasascertained for certain that the transport could not possibly proceedunder her own power.
“But that isn’t saying it wasn’t the original cause of the accident,”declared Ned. “I’d like to get hold of that pepper-pot and tell himwhat I think of him.”
“They’ll do more than tell him, provided they can prove that he hadanything to do with it,” commented Jerry.
“And it certainly looks as if he had--the way they’re keeping him aprisoner in that cabin,” asserted Ned.
“We aren’t sure he is there,” answered the tall lad.
“I’m pretty sure,” Ned asserted. “Well, there’s no hope for it. All wecan do now is to drift around, wait for a wireless message, or----”
“Sail home!” interrupted Bob. “Look, here come some sailors now,getting ready to put up some sort of sail.”
This, indeed, seemed to be the case. A number of men came on deck, andthen an effort began to have sails take the place of steam power. Therewere two masts on the craft, used, ordinarily, to support the wirelessapparatus. It was determined, now, to fasten sails on these sticks ofsteel.
True not much speed could be hoped for, as the _Sherman_ was a bigcraft and powerful engines were required to move her. But it was hopedthat such sails as could be rigged would at least give her steerageway, and this would be needed, in case of a storm, to keep her head onto the waves. Though there was bitter disappointment over the failureof the repairs to the engines, there was hope in the sails.
So interested were the three chums in this that, for the time, theyforgot about the mysterious cabin and its occupant, guarded by twomarines.
Rumor had it that the engine room was a wreck, but whether this wasbecause of the explosion of the steam pipe, which had caused injuriesto a number of men, or to the explosion of a bomb, no one seemed toknow for certain. All that was sure was that the engines were out ofcommission.
And if the tedious hours got on the nerves of the soldiers who hadtheir health and strength, how much more so did they get on the nervesof the wounded in the hospital wards? So over-wrought were some of thecasuals that it was necessary to organize squads of the sound men tovisit in relays and cheer up their unfortunate comrades.
This worked well, and it not only brightened the wounded, but it gavethe unoccupied well lads a chance to do something to vary the monotony.
This, what might be termed a crisis, occurred after it became knownthat the engines had broken down for the second time. This news hadbrought a reaction to the sick and wounded.
Meanwhile the men were working hard to get the sails rigged; butfinally this was accomplished. It was a makeshift, to be sure, butevery one was thankful even for that.
And then, as if Fate was determined to make a plaything of thetroopship and desired to show what she could do when she tried, therecame a dead calm. There had been a fairly good wind all the whilethe men were rigging the sails, and it was thought, with the expanseof canvas spread to the breeze, that progress coul
d be made--perhapsenough even to bring the ship back to port, or at least in the path ofsome other craft.
But no sooner had the last rope been made fast and word given tobring the ship around, with the wind as near astern as would serve thepurpose, than every breath of air died out.
“Dead calm!” muttered one of the sailors. “Dead as a mackerel!”
“Well, what’s to be done?” asked Bob, when it became evident that thetransport could only drift helplessly about.
“Whistle for a breeze!” some one suggested.
The idea was taken in good part, and it had one effect--that ofbringing forth a flood of--well, not exactly melody, for too manywere off-key. But it brought forth laughs, and this was something,considering the gloom that seemed overpowering all on board.
All that could be done was to wait--wait for the wind, wait for ananswer on the wireless, wait for the sight of some craft to aid them,either by providing a tow or sending word of their plight to those thatcould help.
Slowly the hours passed. Even the serving of meals brought littlerelaxation or enjoyment, and Ned and Jerry noticed, not without alarm,that Bob’s appetite was very poor.
“Come on, let’s start something!” proposed Jerry, after a bit.
“Start what?” asked Ned.
“Oh, a game, or something. We’ll go woozy if we stand about waiting forsomething to happen. Let’s go below, get some of the fellows we know,and see what we can dig up.”
As the three chums started for a companionway they noticed anold sailor gazing out across the ocean, which was as calm as theoft-spoken-of “mill pond.”
“See anything?” asked Jerry, as he paused to speak to the old salt.
“Not much,” was the answer.
“What’s the weather going to do?” asked Ned.
“Ha! I wish I knew!” was the retort. “Looked like a storm thismorning--red sun and everything. Now I’ll be jiggered if I don’t thinkwe’re in for the doldrums!”
“What’s he saying?” asked another soldier lad of Jerry. “Does he meansome disease may break out?”
“No,” answered the tall lad, with a smile. “Doldrum means a calm--adead calm. Ships often run into the doldrums near the equator.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind what we ran into, if we could only move,” wasthe dismal retort.
“That’s the trouble,” voiced Ned. “The doldrums are the worst calmsever--no motion at all.”
“Good-night!” cried the seeker after information.
Passing through a corridor below decks on their way to seek some oftheir friends to try to organize something that would while away thedreary monotony, the three chums approached a closed cabin door.
And Bob remarked:
“Why, they’ve taken the marine guards away! I wonder what that means?”
Before his companions could join in his speculation the door of thecabin opened, and through the opening the lads caught sight of afigure. It was the figure of a little bald-headed man, and he worelarge spectacles. He was bending over a mass of papers on a table infront of him, and, at the sight of this individual, Ned, Bob, andJerry, as if in the same voice, exclaimed:
“Professor Snodgrass!”
The Motor Boys Bound for Home; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship Page 12