The Motor Boys Bound for Home; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry on the Wrecked Troopship

by Clarence Young

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A QUEER CRAFT

  Bob Baker and Professor Snodgrass struck the water at the same moment,and side by side. They plunged downward together and came up at thesame time. And then, with seemingly the same thought, they both struckout for a bit of wreckage. They reached this--a jagged mass of woodwhich was large enough to partially support them in the water.

  Bob was, because of his stoutness, rather fortunate in the water. Hefloated well, and he was by no means a bad swimmer. As for ProfessorSnodgrass, in spite of his preoccupation at times, he had mastered theart of keeping himself afloat in the water, and was really well able tolook out for himself. So he had not much difficulty.

  “Are you hurt, Professor?” gasped Bob, as soon as he had cleared hiseyes and mouth of some of the salty water that had entered.

  “I--I don’t seem to be,” gasped the little scientist. “This was ratherunfortunate, wasn’t it?”

  “If you mean being tossed overboard, I’ll say it was,” replied Bob,hardly meaning his answer to take that army-slang phraseology. “Butit’s lucky we found this bit of wreckage. It will keep us up, withoutour having to swim, for some time.”

  “Oh, yes, that was lucky,” agreed the professor. “But what I meant wasit’s too bad I didn’t get that bug when I had the chance. I refer tothe one on the sailor. Very rare bug, that. I almost had it when thecrash came. I wonder if he’ll be there when we get back?”

  “The bug?” asked Bob, unable to restrain a smile.

  “Well, the bug and the sailor. Those bugs cling, once they get fastenedon a person or object. If that sailor hasn’t been tossed overboard,like ourselves, I may be able to get my specimen after all when we getback.”

  “If we do get back,” put in Bob, as he took an easier position on thebit of wreckage and looked about him.

  “Get back! Why shouldn’t we get back?” asked Professor Snodgrass. “Allwe’ve got to do is to cling here until they send a boat for us.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” half agreed Bob. “But if they can’t see to pick usup, and we drift much farther apart, why----”

  He did not need to say more. The little scientist looked about and sawthe white fog enveloping them. It was answer enough.

  “This surely is unfortunate,” went on the little bald-headed man. “Ineed just that one bug to complete my collection, and if we don’treturn soon some one else may get it.”

  “Who’d want it?” asked Bob.

  “Why Dr. Hallet, of course,” was the answer, as if there could be noother. “I’ve had to fight tooth and nail the last month to keep himfrom securing things that really belong to me. And now that I am inthis unfortunate position he may get ahead of me. There is only onehope.”

  “What’s that?” asked Bob. “Do you see a boat coming for us?”

  “No. The hope I refer to is that the sailor on whom I saw that bug mayremember that I have first claim to it. He may save it for me and notlet Dr. Hallet get it.”

  “Is Dr. Hallet on board?” asked Bob, beginning to get a glimmer oflight on some matters that had puzzled him and his chums during thepast few days.

  “Well, he was at the time I left,” announced the professor. “But he,too, may have been tossed overboard as we were. If he was, I hope hedoesn’t want to get aboard our present craft. There is hardly room forone more.”

  “No, indeed,” agreed Bob. “But, say, Professor, we ought to dosomething.”

  “Do what, Bob?”

  “Shout and yell to let ’em know we’re out here. They’ll send a boat forus. Come on, yell!”

  Accordingly they blended their voices, far from musically, but intowhat they hoped would prove to be an appeal for help. Whether it waseffective or not they could not tell, as the fog shut them in like agreat white blanket.

  “If we could manage to propel our craft in the direction of the ship wemight be saved sooner,” said Professor Snodgrass. “What do you imaginehit us, Bob?”

  “Oh, some sort of ship--derelict, I imagine, because I didn’t hear anywhistle before the crash. Ours was the only one going. It wasn’t aniceberg--I know that. I had a glimpse of something big looming up infront of me, then I heard and felt the crash, and--here we are!”

  “Yes, here we are!” agreed the professor. “And the next matter toconsider is--what are we going to do?”

  “We’ve got to hold on to what we have until we can get somethingbetter,” the Motor Boy decided, after a moment of thought. “If wesmashed the other ship up much, or she smashed us, there’ll be a lot ofwreckage floating around soon, and we may be able to pick up a biggerpiece. As it is, I think you can get on this one, Professor, and letme swim behind and push it. In that way we can make better progress,and may get back to the transport.”

  “I suppose that would be a good plan, Bob. But why can’t we both get onthis bit of wreckage?”

  “Won’t hold us,” was the answer. “It’s just big enough for you. I’m toofat. Besides, I guess I can stand it better swimming and pushing thanyou. I’ll get off some of my things, though, and make it easier.”

  Partly supporting himself on the mass of wreckage, Bob removed hisshoes, trousers and coat, and remained in his underwear, which did notform a bad bathing suit.

  His garments he rolled up and stuffed into a big crack in the mass oftimbers and boards.

  Professor Snodgrass was small and light, and when he had managed, withBob’s help, to clamber up on the wreckage he found he had a fairlycomfortable position compared to being unsupported in the water. Nordid he submerge the mass very much.

  “What are you going to do?” the professor asked, as he settled himselfon the middle of the mass.

  “Try to get back to the _Sherman_,” Bob answered. “She can’t be veryfar away.”

  “Hadn’t we better yell again?” asked Professor Snodgrass, after aperiod of silence. “We ought to let them know we’re here.”

  “Yes,” agreed Bob, “we had.”

  Now, again, they raised their voices, but after several trials, therecame no answer.

  “They must have got up steam, and are going away from us,” said Bob.“Or else they’ve sunk,” he added, after a moment.

  “I can hardly believe that,” answered the professor. “The blow struckby the derelict, as you say it was, I am sure was not hard enough tosink our ship so soon. Besides, if she had gone down we’d see signs ofmore wreckage, or the lifeboats. As it is, we have seen nothing.”

  “That’s right,” admitted Bob. “It surely is queer.”

  Bob Baker had paused in his efforts to push the raft, and now wasresting himself while he held this conversation with his friend.

  He was about to start to swimming again when the professor beganquickly to remove his coat, shoes, and trousers.

  “What are you going to do?” cried Bob, wondering if the shock hadsuddenly sent his scientific friend mad.

  “Don’t stop me!” cried Professor Snodgrass. “I’ve just got to get it!”

  An instant later he dived overboard, and Bob was about to swim aroundand catch hold of him, when he saw the little man’s object.

  Just ahead of the raft was a mass of floating seaweed, and on it, orentangled in it, were several forms of marine life--a crab, a radioliteand one or two others.

  “There’s enough here for a month of study!” cried the professor, as heswam back to the raft with his prize. “Oh, if I only had my microscopeand notebook here. But they are back on the transport. Oh, if sheshould be sunk what a loss it would be!”

  “I should say so!” agreed Bob, as he helped steady the raft while thelittle bald-headed man, holding the mass of weeds he had secured,climbed “on board” again. “Think of the lives that would be lost!”

  “Yes, that would be awful,” agreed his companion. “But I would losea most wonderful collection of specimens and much valuable dataconcerning them. That rascally Dr. Hallet would get them if he could.”

  “Who is he?” asked Bob. “Is he that mysterious individual who was
inthe guarded cabin? the little man who looks like you from behind, withwhom Jerry had the row, and who----”

  “Look! Look!” suddenly cried the professor, holding to his bunch ofseaweed with one hand and with the other stuffing his removed clothesinto a crack of the raft so they would not be washed away. “Look!There’s a boat after us!”

  Bob looked in the direction of the pointing finger and saw, dimlythrough the fog, a white object of considerable size, at least ascompared to their improvised vessel. It floated well up out of thewater, and as the drifting currents brought the two nearer Bob saw thatit was a ship’s life raft. It consisted of two large steel cylinders,filled with air and sealed. Between them was a platform and a raisedobject which Bob knew was a water-tight box, or locker, containing foodand water.

  “Look!” cried the professor. “There he is! There he is! Oh, I hope thebug is still on him!”

  And then Bob observed that the life raft held a lone occupant. It wasa sailor, and it needed only a second glance to show that it was thesame man from whom Professor Snodgrass had been about to remove a“specimen,” when the crash came.

  Almost at the same instant that Bob and the professor observed the lonesailor on the life raft, the man noticed them. He stared a moment, thenwaved his hand in greeting and called:

  “Are you alive?”

  “Very much so!” answered Bob. “Have you room for us there?”

  “Plenty and to spare,” was the answer. “This raft is built to holdtwelve. Wait, I’ll row over to you!”

  Then Bob saw that the queer craft was provided with oars; and though itmoved clumsily in the water it progressed toward him and the professor.The latter gave one look and observing that substantial help was on theway, he began to examine the specimens in the bunch of seaweed. Notbefore he had called out, however to the sailor:

  “Don’t lose that bug, whatever you do!”

  “Bug! Lose the bug! Sure, and the man’s plumb daft!” Bob heard the oldsalt mutter.