“The owner of the steam yacht hired him,” answered Mr. Rover. “I believe the captain does not like him any more than we do. But the mate does his duty faithfully, so the captain cannot find fault.”
Another individual the boys did not like was Bill Bossermann, the assistant engineer. Bossermann was a burly German, with the blackest of hair and a heavy black beard and beady black eyes. He had a coarse voice and manners that put one in mind of a bull. Hans tried to get friendly with him, but soon gave it up.
“He vos von of dem fellers vot knows it all,” explained Hans to his chums. “He makes some of dem, vot you call him—bolitical talks, yah. He dinks eferypotty should be so goot like eferypotty else, und chust so rich, too.”
“Must be an Anarchist,” said Tom. “He looks the part.”
“Norton told me he was a first-class engineer,” said Dick, “but when I asked him if he was a good fellow he merely shrugged his shoulders in answer.”
One day the first mate was in command, the captain having gone below to study his charts and work out the ship’s position. Tom had brought a baseball to the deck and was having a catch with Sam. The boys enjoyed the fun for quite a while and did not notice the mate near them.
“Can you throw it up over that rope?” asked Sam, pointing to a stay over his head.
“Sure thing!” cried Tom.
“Look out you don’t throw it overboard.”
“I’ll take care,” answered the fun-loving Rover, and launched the baseball high into the air. Just then the steam yacht gave a lurch, the ball hit the mainmast, and down it bounced squarely upon Asa Carey’s head, knocking the mate’s cap over his eyes and sending him staggering backwards.
“Hi, hi! you young rascals!” roared the mate. “What do you mean by such conduct?”
“Excuse me,” replied Tom, humbly. “I didn’t mean to hit you. It was an accident.”
“I think you did it on purpose, you young villain!”
“It was an accident, Mr. Carey—and I’ll thank you not to call me a rascal and a villain,” went on Tom rather warmly.
“I’ll call you what I please!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will. I am in command here, and I won’t have you throwing baseballs at me.”
“I just told you it was an accident. If the yacht hadn’t rolled just as I threw the ball it would not have hit you.”
“Bah! I know boys, and you especially. You love to play tricks on everybody. But you can’t play tricks on me.” And as the mate spoke he stopped, picked up the rolling ball, and put it in his pocket.
“Are you going to keep that ball?” demanded Sam.
“I am.”
“It is our ball.”
“See here, Mr. Carey, we didn’t mean to hit you, and we were only amusing ourselves catching,” said Tom. “We have hired this yacht and we have a right to do as we please on board so long as we don’t interfere with the running of the vessel. I want you to give us our ball back.” And Tom stepped up and looked the mate squarely in the eyes.
“What! you dare to dictate to me!” roared the mate, and raised his hand as if to strike Tom. He thought the youth would retreat in fear, but Tom never budged.
“I am not trying to dictate, but I have rights as well as you. I want that ball.”
“You can’t have it.”
“If you don’t give it to me I shall report the matter to Captain Barforth.”
At this threat the mate glared at Tom as if he wanted to eat the boy up.
“If I give you the ball you’ll be throwing it at me again,” he growled.
“I didn’t throw it at you. But as for catching on the deck—I shall ask the captain if that is not allowable. I am quite sure it is, so long as we do no damage.”
“Going to sneak behind the captain for protection, eh?” sneered Asa Carey. He did not like the outlook, for that very morning he had had some words with the commander of the steam yacht and had gotten the worst of it.
“I want that ball.”
The mate glared at Tom for a moment and then threw the ball to him.
“All right, take your old ball,” he muttered. “But you be mighty careful how you use it after this or you’ll get into trouble,” and with this the mate walked away.
“Are you going to speak to the captain?” asked Sam, in a low tone.
Tom thought for a moment.
“Perhaps it will be better to let it go, Sam. I don’t want to stir up any more rows than are necessary. But after this I am going to keep my eye on that fellow.”
But if the lads did not mention it to the captain they told their brother and their chums of it, and a long discussion followed.
“I noticed that the mate and the assistant engineer are quite thick,” observed Fred. “It seems they were friends before they came aboard.”
“And they are two of a kind,” remarked Dick. “I feel free to say I do not like than at all.”
It was growing warmer, and for the next few days the girls and the boys were content to take it easy under the awnings which had been spread over a portion of the deck. Once the lads amused themselves by fishing with a net and bait, but were not very successful. In the evening they usually sang or played games, and often Songbird would favor them with some of his poetry. For the most of the time Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning did fancywork.
“Captain says there is a storm coming up,” announced Sam, one evening.
“Oh, dear! I hope it doesn’t get very rough!” cried Mrs. Stanhope. “I detest a heavy storm at sea.”
“Well, mamma, we’ll have to expect some storms,” said Dora.
“Oh, I shan’t mind, if it doesn’t thunder and lightning and blow too much.”
But this storm was not of the thunder and lightning variety, nor did it blow to any extent. It grew damp and foggy, and then a mist came down over the ocean, shutting out the view upon every side. At once the engine of the steam yacht was slowed down, and a double lookout was stationed at the bow, while the whistle was blown at regular intervals.
“This isn’t so pleasant,” remarked Songbird, as he and Dick tramped along the deck in their raincoats. “Ugh! what a nasty night it is!”
“No poetry about this, is there, Songbird?” returned Dick, grimly.
“Hardly,” said the poet, yet a few minutes later he began softly:
“A dreadful fog came out of the sea,
And made it as misty as it could be.
The deck was wet, the air was damp—”
“It was bad enough to give you a cramp!” finished up Tom, who had come up. “Beautiful weather for drying clothes or taking pictures,” he went on. “By the way, I haven’t used my new camera yet. I must get it out as soon as the sun shines again.”
“And I must get out my camera,” said Songbird. “I have a five by seven and I hope to take some very nice pictures when we get down among the islands.”
“How do ye like this sea fog?” asked a voice at the boys’ rear, and Bahama Bill appeared, wrapped in an oilskin jacket. “It puts me in mind of a fog I onct struck off the coast o’ Lower Californy. We was in it fer four days an’ it was so thick ye could cut it with a cheese knife. Why, sir, one day it got so thick the sailors went to the bow an’ caught it in their hands, jess like that!” He made a grab at the air. “The captain had his little daughter aboard an’ the gal went out on deck an’ got lost an’ we had to feel around in that fog nearly an hour afore we found her, an’ then, sure as I’m a standin’ here, she was next to drowned an’ had to be treated jess like she had been under water.”
“How long ago was that?” asked Tom, poking the other boys in the ribs.
“Seven years ago, this very summer.”
“I thought so, Bill, for that very summer I was at Fort Nosuch, in Lower California. I remember that fog well. One of the
walls of the fort had fallen down and the commander was afraid the desperadoes were going to attack him. So he had the soldiers go out, gather in the fog, and build another wall with it. It made a fine defence, in fact, it was simply out of sight,” concluded the fun-loving Rover.
“Say, you—” began Bahama Bill. “You—er—you—say, I can’t say another word, I can’t! The idee o’ building a wall o’ fog! Why, say—”
What the old tar wanted to say, or wanted them to say, will never be known, for at that instant came a loud cry from the bow. Almost immediately came a crash, and the Rainbow quivered and backed. Then came another crash, and the old sailor and the boys were hurled flat on the deck.
CHAPTER XVII
A MISHAP IN THE FOG
“We have struck another vessel!”
“We are sinking!”
“How far are we from land?”
These and other cries rang out through the heavy fog, as the two crashes came, followed, a few seconds later, by a third.
Captain Barforth had left the steam yacht in charge of the first mate and was on the companionway going below. With two bounds he was on deck and running toward the bow at top speed.
“What was it? Have we a hole in the bow?” he questioned, of the frightened lookouts, who had been sent spinning across the slippery deck.
“Couldn’t make out, captain—it was something black,” said one lookout. “Black and square like.”
“I think it was a bit of old wreckage,” said the other. “Anyway, it wasn’t another vessel, and it was too dark for a lumber raft.”
“Is it out of sight?”
It was, and though all strained their eyes they could not make out what had been struck, nor did they ever find out.
From the deck the captain made his way below, followed by Mr. Rover, who was anxious to learn the extent of the injuries. In the meantime the ladies and girls had joined the boys on the deck, and the latter began to get out the life preservers.
The most excited man on board was Asa Carey, and without waiting for orders from the captain, he ordered two of the small boats gotten ready to swing overboard. Then he ran down to his stateroom, to get some of his possessions.
“Is we gwine to de bottom?” questioned Aleck, as he appeared, clad in a pair of slippers and a blanket.
“I don’t know,” answered Fred. “I hope not.”
The boys had all they could do to keep the girls quiet, and Grace was on the point of becoming hysterical, which was not to be wondered at, considering the tremendous excitement.
“We cannot be so very far from one of the islands,” said Dick. “And if the worst comes to the worst we ought to be able to make shore in the small boats.”
“Are there enough boats?” asked Mrs. Laning.
“Yes, the steam yacht is well equipped with them.”
The engine of the vessel had been stopped and the steam yacht lay like a log on the rolling waves. The shocks had caused some of the lights to go out, leaving the passengers in semi darkness.
“Oh, Dick, do you think we’ll go down?” whispered Dora, as, she clung to his arm.
“Let us hope not, Dora,” he answered and caught her closer. “I’ll stick to you, no matter what comes!”
“Yes! yes! I want you to do that! And stick to mamma, too!”
“I will. But I don’t think we’ll go down just yet,” he went on, after a long pause. “We seem to be standing still, that’s all.”
They waited, and as they did so he held her trembling hands tightly in his own. In that minute of extreme peril they realized how very much they were to one another.
At last, after what seemed to be hours, but, was in reality less than five minutes, Anderson Rover appeared.
“There is no immediate danger,” said he. “We must have struck some sort of wreckage, or lumber float. There is a small hole in the bow, just above the water line, and several of the seams have been opened. Captain Barforth is having the hole closed up and has started up the donkey pump to keep the water low in the hold. He says he thinks we can make one of the nearby ports without great trouble.”
This news removed the tension under which all were suffering, and a little later the ladies and the girls retired to the cabin, and Aleck stole back to his sleeping quarters. The boys went forward, to inspect the damage done, but in the darkness could see little.
“It was an accident such as might happen to any vessel,” said the captain, later. “The lookouts were evidently not to blame. There are many derelicts and bits of lumber rafts scattered throughout these waters and consequently traveling at night or in a fog is always more or less dangerous.
“We shall have to put up somewhere for repairs, not so?” questioned Anderson Rover.
“It would be best, Mr. Rover. Of course we might be able to patch things ourselves, but, unless you are in a great hurry, I advise going into port and having it done. It will have to be done sooner or later anyway.”
“Where do you advise putting in?”
Captain Barforth thought for a moment.
“I think we had better run over to Nassau, which is less than sixty miles from here. Nassau, as perhaps you know, is the capital city of the Bahamas, and has quite some shipping and we’ll stand a good chance there of getting the right ship’s—carpenters to do the work.”
After some talk, it was decided to steer for Nassau, and the course of the Rainbow was changed accordingly. They now ran with even greater caution than before, and a strong searchlight was turned on at the bow, the surplus power from the engine being used for that purpose.
As my young readers may know, Nassau is located on New Providence Island, about two hundred miles east of the lower coast of Florida. It is under British rule and contains about fifteen thousand inhabitants. It is more or less of a health resort and is visited by many tourists, consequently there are several good hotels and many means of spending a few days there profitably.
The run to Nassau was made without further mishaps, and immediately on arriving the steam yacht was placed in the hands of some builders who promised to make the needed repairs without delay. The entire crew remained on board, as did Aleck Pop, but the Rovers and their friends put up at a leading hotel for the time being.
After the run on shipboard from Philadelphia to the Bahamas, the ladies and girls were glad enough to set foot again on land. After one day of quietness at the hotel the party, went out carriage riding, and, of course, the boys went along. They saw not a few unusual sights, and were glad they had their cameras with them.
“We’ll have a dandy lot of pictures by the time we get home,” said Sam.
“There is one picture I want more than any other,” said Tom.
“One of Nellie, I suppose,” and Sam winked.
“Oh, I’ve got that already,” answered the fun-loving Rover unabashed.
“What’s that you want?” asked Songbird.
“A picture of that treasure cave with us loading the treasure on the yacht.”
“Now you are talking, Tom!” cried his older brother. “We all want that. I am sorry we have been delayed here.”
“How long vos ve going to sthay here?” questioned Hans.
“The repairs will take the best part of a week, so the ship builders said.”
“Ain’t you afraid dot Sid Merrick got ahead of you?”
“I don’t know. He may be on his way now, or he may not have started yet from New York.”
“Oh, I hope we don’t meet Merrick, or Sobber either!” cried Dora.
On the outskirts of the town was a fine flower garden where roses of unusual beauty were grown. One day the girls and ladies visited this and Dick and Songbird went along. In the meantime Tom and Sam walked down to the docks, to see how the repairs to the Rainbow were progressing, and also to look at the vessels going out and coming in.
“A vessel is due from New York,” said Tom. “I heard them talking about it at the hotel.”
“Let us see if there is anybody on board we know,” answered his brother.
They walked to the spot where the people were to come in, and there learned that the steamer had sent its passengers ashore an hour before. A few were at the dock, taking care of some baggage which had been detained by the custom house officials.
“Well, I never!” exclaimed Tom. “If there isn’t Peter Slade! What can he be doing here?”
Peter Slade had once been a pupil at Putnam Hall. He had been something of a bully, although not as bad as Tad Sobber. The boys had often played tricks on him and once Peter had gotten so angry he had left the school and never come back.
“Let us go and speak to him,” said Sam.
“Maybe he won’t speak, Sam. He was awful angry at us when he left the Hall.”
“If he doesn’t want to speak he can do the other thing,” said the youngest Rover. “Perhaps he’ll be glad to meet somebody in this out of the way place.”
They walked over to where Peter Slade stood and both spoke at once. The other lad was startled at first and then he scowled.
“Humph! you down here?” he said, shortly.
“Yes,” answered Tom, pleasantly enough. “Did you just get in on the steamer?”
“I don’t know as that is any of your business, Tom Rover!”
“It isn’t, and if you don’t want to speak civilly, Slade, you haven’t got to speak at all,” said Tom, and started to move away, followed by his brother.
“Say, did you meet Tad Sobber and his un—” And then Peter Slade stopped short in some confusion.
“Did we meet who?” demanded Tom, wheeling around in some astonishment.
“Never mind,” growled Peter Slade.
“Were they on the steamer?” asked Sam.
“I’m not saying anything about it.”
“Look here, Slade, if they were on the steamer we want to know it,” came from Tom.
The Rover Boys Megapack Page 193