The stars made it fairly light on the water and, as the schooner came up close to the steam tug, Dick made out several figures on board.
“Ahoy, what tug is that?” came from the schooner.
“The Rocket” answered Parsons. “What schooner is that?”
To this there was no answer.
“What are you doing here?” asked Captain Langless instead.
“We are in trouble,” returned Parsons, after whispering with Dick.
“What’s up?”
“We’ve had a breakdown.”
“Seen anybody from the island?”
“Why, we thought this island was deserted.”
“So it is.”
“Come up closer and give us a lift.”
“Can’t, we are behind time now.”
Then, without warning, a Bengal light was lit on board of the schooner. A large reflector was placed behind the light, which was thus cast on the deck of the Rocket. At once Dick, Peterson, and the others were exposed to the gaze of Captain Langless.
“Ha! I suspected as much!” roared the master of the schooner. “Sheer off, Wimble, or the game is up!”
The helm of the Peacock was at once thrown over, and she began to move off. A stiff breeze caused her to make rapid progress.
“Stop!” cried Dick. “Stop, or we will fire on you!”
He had scarcely spoken when the report of a pistol rang out and a bullet cut through the air over his head.
“Let that be a warning to you to leave us alone!” cried Captain Langless.
Then the schooner increased her speed, the flare from the Bengal light died out, and soon the Peacock was lost to view in the darkness.
CHAPTER XXV
BEACHING THE “WELLINGTON”
“How is this for a turn of fortune?” remarked Tom, as he and Sam stood on the deck of the Wellington and watched the shore of Needle Point Island fading from view in the distance.
“It’s all right, if only we can make those Canadians obey us,” replied the youngest of the Rovers. “They don’t seem to like matters much. They look dark and distrustful.”
“I don’t think they’ll make trouble, Sam.”
“Josiah Crabtree seems thoroughly cowed.”
“Don’t trust him. He is worse than a snake in the grass and he hates us worse than poison.”
The two paced the deck thoughtfully. Mrs. Stanhope was still in the cabin, in the company of one of the sailors’ wives, while the former teacher of Putnam Hall also kept out of sight.
“This seems an old tub of a boat,” went on Tom, a few minutes later. “I wonder that Crabtree didn’t hire something better. She just crawls along, and no more.”
“Probably he got the boat cheap. He always was the one to go in for cheap things.” And in his surmise the lad was correct.
It was not long before one of the Canadians took hold of a hand-pump near the bow of the boat and began to pump the water out of the hold.
“Hullo, your old tub leaks, eh?” said Tom.
“Yees, heem leak some,” answered the fat Canadian. “Heem want some what-you-call-heem, tar; hey?” And he smiled broadly.
“Any danger of sinking?”
At this the Canadian shook his head. Then he went to pumping at a faster rate than ever.
“I believe he is afraid,” said Tom to Sam. “She must leak fearfully, or he wouldn’t pump up so much water.”
“Well, the journey to the mainland won’t last forever—that’s one satisfaction, Tom. I reckon the tub is good for that much of a run. I don’t care what becomes of her after we are ashore.”
“Nor I. She can sink if she wishes, with Crabtree on board, too.”
“Sink!” cried a voice behind them. “Is there danger of the ship going down? I noticed that she was leaking yesterday.”
It was Josiah Crabtree who spoke. He had just come up and he was very pale.
“I guess she’ll keep up a few minutes longer,” said Tom soberly.
“A few minutes! Oh, dear! if we did sink what would become of us?”
“Why, if we did sink we’d sink, that’s all.”
“I mean, if the ship sunk what would we do?”
“You might wade ashore, if your legs are long enough.”
“But this is no joking matter, Thomas. The lake is very deep out here.”
“Then you had better find a life-preserver.”
Josiah Crabtree gave something of a groan and moved away. He did not know whether Tom was poking fun at him or not. Yet he did search for a preserver—and in doing that he was wiser than the boys had anticipated.
Presently the wind veered around and the yards came over with a bang. The Wellington gave a lurch, and there was a strange creaking and cracking far below the deck. The Canadian pumped more madly than ever, and shouted to his companion in French.
“Is she leaking worse?” asked Tom.
The Canadian nodded. Then the Wellington gave another lurch, and Tom noticed that her bow gave an odd little dip.
“Filling with water, I’ll be bound,” he muttered, and running to the hatch he sounded the well hole. There were sixteen inches of water below. Soon it measured seventeen inches.
“We’ve sprung a bad leak,” he announced to Sam. “It looks as if we might go to the bottom.”
“Oh, Tom, you don’t mean it!”
“Yes, I do.”
“Can’t we turn back? The island isn’t more than two miles off. It may be safer to go back than to keep on.”
“Exactly my idea, Sam. I’ll speak to the Canadian about it.”
The fat sailor was still pumping, but his face was full of despair.
“De ship he go down,” he gasped. “We drown in ze lake!”
“Better turn back to the island,” returned Tom. “And lose no time about it.”
“Yees! yees! zat ees best. We turn heem back!”
The Canadian shouted to his companion, who was at the wheel, and then left the pump to attend to the sails. At once Tom took his place at the pump, at the same time calling to Sam to go down for Mrs. Stanhope.
“Tell her to come on deck,” he said. “And find some life-preservers, if you can.”
“What of the rowboat?”
“It’s as rotten as the ship, Sam. We’ll have to swim for it, if this tub sinks.”
Sam disappeared into the cabin and Tom turned to the pumping. Never had he worked so hard, and the perspiration poured down his face. Soon Mrs. Stanhope appeared, her face full of fear.
“Oh, pray Heaven we do not go down!” she murmured. “How far are we from land?”
“We have turned back for the island,” answered Tom, hardly able to speak because of his exertions. “We are not much more than a mile away.”
“A mile! And how long will it take us to reach the island?”
“About ten minutes, if the wind holds out.”
The Wellington was now groaning and creaking in every timber, as if she was aware that her last hour on the surface of the lake had come. She was, as Tom had said, an old “tub,” and should have been condemned years before. But the Canadians were used to her and handled the craft as skillfully as possible. They, too, provided themselves with life-preservers and, when Sam relieved his brother at the pump, Tom did likewise.
As she filled with water the ship moved more slowly until, despite the breeze, she seemed to merely crawl along. It was now growing dark and the island was not yet in sight.
Sounded again, the well hole showed twenty inches of water. At this the fat Canadian gave a long sigh and disappeared into the forecastle, to obtain a trunk and some of his other belongings. Sam had already brought on deck the things belonging to Mrs. Stanhope.
At last the fat sailor uttered a welcome cry. “The island! The island!”
“Where?” questioned the others.
The sailor pointed with his hand. He was right; land was just visible, and no more. Then of a sudden came a crash and a shock which threw all of those on board headlong.
“We have struck a rock!” yelled Josiah Crabtree. “We are going down!” And in his terror he leaped overboard and struck out wildly for the distant shore.
Sam was also ready, in a moment, to spring into the water, but Tom held him back. The Wellington settled and swung around, and then sheered off the rock and went on her way. But it was plainly to be seen that she could float but a few minutes more at the most.
“There is a sandy shore!” cried Tom to the Canadians. “Better drive her straight in and beach her!”
“Good!” said the fat sailor, and spoke to his companion in French. Then, as well as they were able, they brought the water-logged craft around to the wind. Slowly she drifted in, her deck sinking with every forward move. Then came a strong pull of wind which caught the sails squarely and drove them ahead. A grating and a slishing followed, and they ran up the muddy shore and came to a standstill in about three feet of water.
“Hurrah! saved!” shouted Sam. “My, but that was a narrow escape!”
“Where is Mr. Crabtree?” asked Mrs. Stanhope anxiously. “Oh, do not let him drown!”
They looked around and saw him in the water not a hundred feet away, puffing and blowing like a porpoise.
“Save me!” he screamed, as soon as he saw their safety. “Don’t let me drown!”
“You’re all right,” returned Tom. “It’s shallow here. See if you can’t walk ashore.”
Josiah Crabtree continued his paddling, and presently put down his feet very gingerly. He could just touch the bottom. Soon he was in a position to walk, and lost no time in getting out of the lake and coming up to the bow of the Wellington.
“Oh, dear, this is dreadful!” he groaned, with a shiver. “Throw out a plank that I may come onboard.”
“Thought you were tired of the old tub,” said Tom dryly.
“I thought she was surely going down, Thomas. Please throw out a plank, that’s a good boy.”
The Canadian got the longest plank at hand and, resting one end at the bow, allowed the other to fall ashore, in a few inches of mud and water. Then Josiah Crabtree came up the plank on hands and knees, looking for all the world like a half-drowned rat.
CHAPTER XXVI
CRABTREE JOINS THE BAXTERS
“Well, we are no better off than we were before,” remarked Sam, after Josiah Crabtree had disappeared in the direction of the cabin and the two boys had walked forward by themselves.
“No, we are no better off, but we have succeeded in rescuing Mrs. Stanhope from old Crabtree’s clutches, and that is something.”
“True, but supposing we fall in the hands of the Baxters and Captain Langless again?”
“Can’t we hold them at bay, if they try to come on board this tub?”
“Perhaps. But we can’t remain on board the Wellington forever.”
Now that the danger was over the lads found that they were hungry, and called upon the sailors to bring out what food the craft afforded. They made a hearty meal, in which Mrs. Stanhope joined. Josiah Crabtree was not invited, and had to eat later on with the sailors and the one sailor’s wife.
“This wreck may throw us together for some time, Crabtree,” said Tom, later on, when he and the former school-teacher were alone. “I want to warn you to behave yourself during that time.”
“I know my own business,” was the stiff reply.
“Well, you keep your distance, or there will be trouble.”
“Can I not speak to Mrs. Stanhope?”
“When she speaks to you, yes. But you must not bother her with your attentions. And if you try your hypnotic nonsense we’ll pitch you overboard,” and so speaking, Tom walked off again. Josiah Crabtree looked very black, nevertheless he took the youth’s words to heart and only spoke to Mrs. Stanhope when it was necessary.
By the time supper was over it was night and time to think of getting some rest. The boys took possession of one of the staterooms on board, and arranged that each should sleep five hours, Tom taking the first watch. Mrs. Stanhope soon retired, and so did Josiah Crabtree and one of the Canadians.
Tom found the fat Canadian, the man to remain on deck, quite a sociable fellow, and asked him much about himself and how he had come to hire out with Crabtree. He soon discovered that the Canadians were honest to the last degree, and had gone in for the trip thinking all was above-board.
“I soon see ze man haf von bad eye,” said the Canadian. “I tell Menot I no like heem. Now he has brought ruin on our ship.”
The Canadian imagined that Crabtree had hypnotized the sailing qualities of the Wellington as well as cast a spell over Mrs. Stanhope, and Tom saw no reason, just then, for saying anything to the contrary.
“You must watch Crabtree,” he said. “Don’t let him get you in his power. Stick by me and my brother, and you will be all right,” and the Canadian promised.
“But who vill pay for ze ship?” he questioned dolefully. “’Tis all Menot and myself haf in ze worl’!” And he shook his head in sorrow.
“We will pay you well for whatever you do for us. The balance you must get out of Crabtree.” Then Tom gave the fat sailor a five-dollar bill, and from that moment the pair were warm friends.
Feeling that Crabtree would not dare to do much as matters stood, Tom did not take the trouble to arouse Sam when he turned in, and the brothers slept soundly until some time after sunrise.
“Say, why didn’t you wake me up?” asked Sam in astonishment. “You didn’t stay up all night, did you?”
“Not much!” answered Tom, and spoke of the Canadian, whose name was Peglace.
“Well, what’s to do?”
“I must confess I don’t know. I suppose the Baxters and Captain Langless are on the search for us.”
“More than likely.”
“Then we had better lay low until some vessel comes to rescue us.”
“I don’t think very many ships come this way.”
“Neither do I, but we won’t despair. Come, I’m hungry again,” and they stirred around to get breakfast.
An examination showed that the Wellington was hard and fast in the mud, and likely to remain exactly as she stood for an indefinite time. Wading around in the water below, the Canadians reported several planks broken and wrenched loose, and that immediate repairs seemed out of the question.
“Ze ship ees gone,” said Peglace sadly. “We air like zat man, what-you-call-heem, Crusoe Robinson, hey?” And he shook his head.
“Well, I hope we don’t have to stay as long on this island as Robinson Crusoe remained on that other,” remarked Sam. “Tom, I’m going for a walk on shore.”
“Can I go with you?” put in Josiah Crabtree humbly. “I am tired of this ship’s deck.”
“All right, come on.”
“I will remain with Mrs. Stanhope,” said Tom. “Don’t go too far, Sam.”
Sam and the former teacher of Putnam Hall were soon over the side. The boy came down the plank easily enough, but Crabtree slipped and went into the water and mud up to his knees.
“Ugh! I am always unfortunate!” he spluttered. “However, since the weather is warm, I don’t think I’ll suffer much.”
At a short distance up the beach there was a headland, covered with tall trees. Sam decided to make his way to this.
“I’m going to climb the tallest of the trees and look around,” he said. “You can go along, if you wish.”
“I will go, but I cannot climb the tree,” answered Crabtree.
To get to the headland they had to make a detour around a marshy spot and then climb over a number of rough rocks. The exertion exhausted Josiah Crabtree, and he soon fell behind.
Reaching the headland, Sam gazed around anxiously. He could see a long distance to the north and the west, but not a sail was in sight.
“The Peacock ought to be somewhere around here,” he told himself, and then, coming to a tall tree with low, drooping branches, he began to climb to the top.
It was a difficult task, for the tree was a thickly wooded one and a veritable monarch of the forest. But he persevered, and at last gained the topmost branch.
Here the view of the island and its vicinity was much extended, and he could see not only the bay where the Peacock had been at anchor, but also several other harbors.
“The Peacock is gone!” Such were the first words which escaped him. “She must have left the island altogether!”
With anxious eye he turned his gaze to the other harbors, and suddenly gave a start.
“A steam tug! How lucky!” He had discovered the Rocket, which was just getting up steam in order to follow the Peacock; the screw being now repaired and ready for use.
As fast as he could he descended to the ground, his one thought being to tell Tom of his discovery, and to either get to the steam tug or to signal those on board, so that the tug might not leave the island without them. He had noticed the black smoke curling up from the stack, and knew that this betokened that steam was getting up.
“Sam Rover!”
The voice came from behind the rocks, like a bolt out of the clear sky. Then Dan Baxter rushed forward, followed by his father.
Sam was taken off his guard, and before he could do anything the Baxters had him by both arms and were holding him a prisoner.
“Let me go!”
“Not much!” came from Arnold Baxter. “Where are your brothers—I mean,” he added, in some confusion, “where is Tom?”
“Find out for yourself, Arnold Baxter. Let me go, I say!” And Sam began to struggle.
“Daniel Baxter, is it possible!” came in Josiah Crabtree’s voice, and he emerged from the brushwood. “What an extraordinary meeting!”
“I should say it was!” responded the bully. “Where did you spring from?”
“Perhaps, Daniel, I can ask the same question.”
“Is Tom Rover with you?”
“No, he is on a ship which is beached a short distance from here.”
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