CHAPTER XIII
"HOME AGAIN! HERE WE ARE!"
The wind was indeed "just right;" but even Dab forgot, for the moment,that "The Swallow" would go faster and farther before a gale than shewas likely to with the comparatively mild southerly breeze now blowing.He was by no means likely to get home by dinner-time. As for danger,there would be absolutely none, unless the weather should again becomestormy; and there was no probability of any such thing at that season.And so, after he had eaten his breakfast, and, with a genuine boy'sconfidence in boys, Frank Harley came on board "The Swallow" as apassenger, the anchor was lifted, and the gay little craft spread herwhite sails, and slipped lightly away from the neighborhood of theforlorn-looking, stranded steamer.
"They'll have her out of that in less'n a week," said Ford to Frank. "Myfather'll know just what to do about your baggage, and so forth."
There were endless questions to be asked and answered on both sides; butat last Dab yawned a very sleepy yawn, and said, "Ford, you've had yournap. Wake up Dick, there, and let him take his turn at the tiller. Thesea's as smooth as a lake, and I believe I'll go to sleep for an hour orso. You and Frank can keep watch while Dick steers: he's a goodsteerer."
Whatever Dab said was "orders" now on board "The Swallow;" and Ford'sonly reply was,--
"If you haven't earned a good nap, then nobody has."
Dick, too, responded promptly and cheerfully; and in five minutes morethe patient and skilful young "captain" was sleeping like a top.
"Look at him," said Ford Foster to Frank Harley. "I don't know what he'smade of. He's been at that tiller for twenty-three hours by the watch,in all sorts of weather, and never budged."
"They don't make that kind of boy in India," replied Frank.
"He's de bes' feller you ebber seen," added Dick Lee. "I's jes' proud obhim, I is!"
Smoothly and swiftly and safely "The Swallow" was bearing her preciouscargo across the summer sea; but the morning had brought no comfort tothe two homes at the head of the inlet, or the humble cabin in thevillage. Old Bill Lee was out in the best boat he could borrow, by earlydaylight; and more than one of his sympathizing neighbors followed him alittle later. There was no doubt at all that a thorough search would bemade of the bay and the island, and so Mr. Foster wisely remained athome to comfort his wife and daughter.
"That sort of boy," mourned Annie, "is always getting into some kind ofmischief."
"Annie!" exclaimed her mother indignantly, "Ford is a good boy, and hedoes not run into mischief."
"I didn't mean Ford: I meant that Dabney Kinzer. I wish we'd never seenhim, or his sailboat either."
"Annie," remarked her father a little reprovingly, "if we live by thewater, Ford _will_ go out on it, and he had better do so in goodcompany. Wait a while."
Annie was silenced, but it was only too clear that she was not entirelyconvinced. Her brother's absence and all their anxiety were positivelydue to Dab Kinzer, and his wicked, dangerous little yacht; and he mustbe to blame somehow.
She could not help "waiting a while," as her father bade her; but hereyes already told that she had been doing more than wait.
Summer days are long; but some of them are a good deal longer thanothers, and that was one of the longest any of those people had everknown.
For once, even dinner was more than half neglected in the Kinzer familycircle. At the Fosters' it was forgotten almost altogether. Long as theday was, and so dreary, in spite of all the bright, warm sunshine, therewas no help for it: the hours would not hurry, and the wanderers wouldnot return. Tea-time came at last; and with it the Fosters all came overto Mrs. Kinzer's again, to take tea, and tell her of several fishermenwho had returned from the bay without having discovered a sign of "TheSwallow" or its crew.
Stout-hearted Mrs. Kinzer talked bravely and encouragingly,nevertheless, and did not seem to abate an ounce of her confidence inher son. It seemed as if, in leaving off his roundabouts, particularlyconsidering the way in which he had left them off, Dabney must havesuddenly grown a great many "sizes" in his mother's estimation. Perhaps,too, that was because he had not left them off any too soon.
There they sat around the tea-table, the two mothers and all the rest ofthem, looking gloomy enough; while over there in her bit of a brownhouse, in the village, sat Mrs. Lee in very much the same frame of mind,trying to relieve her feelings by smoothing imaginary wrinkles out ofher boy's best clothes, and planning for him any number of bright redneckties, if he would only come back to wear them.
The neighbors were becoming more than a little interested, and evenexcited about the matter; but what was there to be done?
Telegrams had been sent to other points on the coast, and all thefishermen notified. It was really one of those puzzling cases, whereeven the most neighborly can do no better than "wait a while."
Still, there were more than a dozen people, of all sorts, including BillLee, lingering around the "landing" as late as eight o'clock thatevening.
Suddenly one of them exclaimed,--
"There's a light coming in!"
Others followed with,--
"There's a boat under it!"
"Ham's boat carried a light."
"I'll bet it's her!"
"No, it isn't"--
"Hold on and see."
There was not long to "hold on;" for in three minutes more "The Swallow"swept gracefully in with the tide, and the voice of Dab Kinzer shoutedmerrily,--
"Home again! Here we are!"
Such a ringing volley of cheers answered him!
It was heard and understood away there in the parlor of the Morrishouse, and brought every soul of that anxious circle right up standing.
"Must be it's Dab!" exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer.
"O mother!" said Annie, "is Ford safe?"
"They wouldn't cheer like that, my dear, if any thing had happened,"remarked Mr. Foster; but, in spite of his coolness, the city lawyerforgot to put his hat on, as he dashed out of the front gate and downthe road towards the landing.
Then came one of those times that it takes a whole orchestra and agallery of paintings to tell any thing about: for Mrs. Lee as well asher husband was on the beach; and within a minute after "Captain Kinzer"and his crew had landed, poor Dick was being hugged and scolded withinan inch of his life, and the two other boys found themselves in themidst of a perfect tumult of embraces and cheers.
Frank Harley's turn came soon, moreover; for Ford Foster found hisbalance, and introduced the "passenger from India" to his father.
"Frank Harley!" exclaimed Mr. Foster. "I've heard of you, certainly; buthow did you--boys, I don't understand"--
"Oh! father, it's all right. We took Frank off the French steamer, aftershe ran ashore."
"Ran ashore?"
"Yes. Down the Jersey coast. We got in company with her in the fog,after the storm. That was yesterday evening."
"Down the Jersey coast? Do you mean you've been out at sea?"
"Yes, father; and I'd go again, with Dab Kinzer for captain. Do youknow, father, he never left the rudder of 'The Swallow' from the momentwe started until seven o'clock this morning."
"You owe him your lives!" almost shouted Mr. Foster; and Ford addedemphatically, "Indeed we do!"
It was Dab's own mother's arms that had been around him from the instanthe had stepped ashore, and Samantha and Keziah and Pamela had had tocontent themselves with a kiss or so apiece; but dear, good Mrs. Fosterstopped smoothing Ford's hair and forehead just then, and came and gaveDab a right motherly hug, as if she could not express her feelings inany other way.
As for Annie Foster, her face was suspiciously red at the moment; butshe walked right up to Dab after her mother released him, and said,--
"Captain Kinzer, I've been saying dreadful things about you, but I begpardon."
"I'll be entirely satisfied, Miss Foster," said Dabney, "if you'll onlyask somebody to get us something to eat."
"Eat!" exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer. "Why, the poor fellows! Of course they'rehungry."
"Law, suz! So dey be!"
Hungry enough they all were, indeed; and the supper-table, moreover, wasthe best place in the world for the further particulars of theirwonderful cruise to be told and heard.
Dick Lee was led home in triumph to a capital supper of his own; and assoon as that was over he was rigged out in his Sunday clothes,--red silknecktie and all,--and invited to tell the story of his adventures to aroomful of admiring neighbors. He told it well, modestly ascribing everything to Dab Kinzer; but there was no good reason, in any thing he said,for one of his father's friends to inquire next morning,--
"Bill Lee, does you mean for to say as dem boys run down de Frenchsteamah in dat ar' boat?"
"Not dat. Not zackly."
"'Cause, ef you does, I jes' want to say I's been down a-lookin' at her,and she ain't even snubbed her bowsprit."
Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy Page 13