Four Afloat: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Water

“Good scheme,” whispered Nelson. “You and Tom keep her from bumping and I’ll make a stab at it.”

The Sylph was scarcely more than moving now and for a moment or two it looked as though she would not reach the other boat without having her engine started again. All three kept very still, their eyes fixed intently on the nine oval port lights. They were all open and every moment Tom expected to see a revolver spring into glittering view through one of them. But they all remained empty and the two boats were less than three yards apart when their plan to maintain silence was frustrated by Barry.

Once as they approached he had raised his head lazily and viewed them with calm indifference, promptly returning to his slumber or day-dreaming. But now he suddenly sprang to his feet and gave the alarm in the form of a challenging bark that was half a growl. Bob raised a warning hand.

“Barry!” he whispered hoarsely. “Shut up, sir!”

The terrier recognized them then, but he didn’t shut up. Instead he went quite crazy with delight and ran barking joyously along the edge of the cabin roof, Nelson, Bob, and Tom entreating and threatening him with bated breath. Then Bob and Tom brought the two boats softly together and Nelson made a flying jump on to the Vagabond and scrambled noiselessly down to the cockpit, Barry leaping ecstatically at him.

It was the work of an instant to close the doors, and then, in the act of drawing the hatch shut, Nelson peered quickly into the engine room. It was empty and the door into the stateroom beyond was closed. Nelson hesitated a moment. There was a bolt on each side of this door and if he could reach the door without alarming the occupants of the stateroom and slip the bolt on his side he would not only make them prisoners but be able to run the engine and so get back quickly to New London. Opening the doors again, he stepped softly down into the engine room and across the floor. There was no sound from beyond the door. Noiselessly he slipped the bolt into place and hurried back to the deck.

Bob and Tom had pulled the Sylph toward the stern of the larger boat out of range of the port lights and were making her fast. Nelson explained what he had done.

“That’s good,” said Bob. “Although, of course, we could have towed her back with the Sylph.”

“And been plugged full of holes, maybe, from one of the forward ports,” added Nelson. “No, thank you! I don’t see, though, why they haven’t heard us if there’s really anyone down there!”

“Let’s find out if there is anyone on board,” said Bob. “I’ll creep up and look.”

So very softly he made his way along the side until he reached the first port in the stateroom. Then he stooped and peered down into the dim cabin. The opposite bunks were both empty. It was impossible to see the ones below him from where he was, so he silently crept back and around to the corresponding port on the other side of the boat, Nelson and Tom watching anxiously from the stern.

In a moment he was crawling back, one finger up-raised.

“There’s only one there,” he said softly, “and he’s fast asleep in Dan’s berth. It’s too dark to make out anything about him, and he’s got his face toward the wall, but he looks like a pretty husky chap. Now what shall we do?”

“Get the anchor up, take the tender back of the Sylph and make her fast there and go home.”

“Can we tow the Sylph and the tender too?” questioned Bob.

“Sure. We’ll keep as quiet as we can about it, but I don’t think it matters whether the chap down there wakes up or not. He won’t be a match for the three of us, I guess. I’ll stay below and if he tries to break through the door I’ll lay him out with a wrench. You and Tom get the anchor up and the other boats fixed. Don’t give the Sylph much rope; about four feet will do; we don’t want to get it wound around the propeller. For the love of Mike, Barry, get out from under my feet! Yes, I’m awfully glad to see you, of course, but I’ll tell you about it later.” And Nelson crept back to the engine room.

Presently Bob put his head down and whispered that all was ready. Nelson, listening for sounds from beyond the door and hearing none, prepared to start the engine. Bob took the wheel and Tom was stationed at the stern to keep the Sylph from bumping as they turned. Bob waited. So did Tom. Then Nelson’s head appeared at the door.

“No wonder he stayed here,” he said angrily. “The blamed idiot went and balled the vaporizer all up! Had it screwed around so she wasn’t getting any gasoline! I’d like to break his head!”

“Can’t you fix it?” asked Bob anxiously.

“I have fixed it,” was the reply, “but I’m going to tell him what I think of him before he gets away. It’s bad enough to swipe the boat, I should think, without trying to queer the engine!” And Nelson went back still muttering vengefully. Bob and Tom exchanged grins. Then the Vagabond, which had been slipping downstream for several minutes, turned her nose toward the middle of the Thames and swung about to the tune of her chugging engine, the Sylph and the tender following behind in single file. Presently Nelson wiped his hands on a bunch of waste and seated himself on the middle step where he could at once keep his eye on the engine, watch the stateroom door, and converse with Bob and Tom.

“Don’t see why he don’t wake up now,” said Bob, when they were making for New London. “Maybe he’s dead.”

“Ku-ku-killed by ru-ru-remorse,” suggested Tom.

“Steal around and have a peep at him, Tommy,” said Nelson. Tommy looked doubtful.

“Du-du-do you think he’s got a gu-gu-gu-gun?” he asked.

“No, and, anyway, he’s asleep, isn’t he?” answered Nelson.

“That’s what I du-du-don’t know,” replied Tom.

“Well, go and see,” laughed Bob. “You don’t have to climb through the port; just take a peek.”

So Tom obeyed, not overanxiously, and displayed splendid caution in the matter of approach. For fully half a minute he leaned over the port. Then he came back, looking excited.

“He’s still asleep! And wh-wh-wh-what do you th-th-think?”

“I don’t think,” answered Bob. “Out with it, and don’t drop too many stitches or he will wake up and murder us all before you’ve unburdened yourself of your fearful secret.”

“He was all ready to su-su-skip out,” said Tom. “There’s a suit case on the floor by the du-du-door and I’ll bet it’s all packed with our things. And he’s got on a pu-pu-pu-pair of Dan’s trousers!”

“How do you know?” asked Nelson.

“Saw them; those woolly, grayish, checked ones.”

“Sorry to queer your little yarn, Tommy,” said Bob, “but you’re letting your imagination run away with you. Dan wore those trousers to New York yesterday.”

“Du-du-du-did he, Nel?” appealed Tom. Nelson nodded.

“Well, they look like those. Anyway, I’ll bet he’s got all our money and things in that su-su-su-su-su – ”

“Suit case, Tommy,” said Nelson. “You’re welcome.”

“Well, it won’t do him any good now,” said Bob. “He won’t get it off this boat except over my dead body.”

“What became of that cheese and the crackers and things?” asked Tom suddenly.

“By Jove, that’s so!” exclaimed Bob. “We haven’t fed!”

“Well, we don’t need to eat crackers and cheese unless we want to,” said Nelson. “There’s real grub in the ice box. What do you say, Chef? Do we get anything cooked?”

“I don’t mind cooking if you’ll stay there and see that he doesn’t jump out and scalp me,” answered Tom.

Nelson promised faithfully and presently there was a subdued bustle in the “galley.” Beyond the bolted door all remained as silent as a tomb. The Vagabond and her tows were by this time within sight of the bridge.

“Coffee or tea?” asked Tom softly.

The verdict was coffee and Tom’s fork got busy in the bottom of a cup with half an egg.

“Don’t make such a silly lot of noise,” whispered Nelson.

“It isn’t me,” replied Tom, “it’s the egg cackling.”

“Where are we, Bob?” asked Nelson.

“Just passed the Navy Yard,” was the answer. “Hadn’t you better slow her down a bit?” Nelson followed the suggestion.

“We’ll be at the wharf before you get that luncheon ready, Tommy, if you don’t hurry,” said Nelson. Whereupon Tom flew around quite fast for him and the cheering aroma of coffee began to pervade the launch. And with it presently mingled the agreeable odor of corned-beef hash.

Suddenly from the other side of the door came the sound of a loud yawn and Tom dropped the spoon from his hand. Nelson got up from the step and stood ready. They listened intently. For a moment silence held. Then came the thud of boots on the floor and the creak of the berth as its occupant sat up. Nelson pointed over his shoulder and Tom streaked to the stairs and warned Bob, returning to take his place at Nelson’s side. Another yawn followed. Then the door was tried. There was a muttered word from beyond it and it creaked as the person in the stateroom put his shoulder against it. Nelson reached down and possessed himself of the biggest wrench in the tool kit. Then —

“That door’s bolted,” he called. “You stay where you are. If you make trouble it’ll be bad for you. We’re three to one and you’d better give up!” There was a long silence. Evidently the fellow in the stateroom was pondering the advice. At last, however —

“What yer goin’ ter do with me?” asked a deep, gruff voice in which Nelson thought he caught a tremor.

“We’re almost at New London and when we get there we’re going to give you up to the police and let you explain, if you can, why you ran off with our boat.”

“Did yer say there was three of yer?” asked the other.

“Yes.”

“I give up then. Lemme out.”

“No, you’ll stay where you are,” answered Nelson.

“I give yer my word I won’t do nothin’ if yer’ll lemme out,” pleaded the prisoner. “Hope ter die!”

“Will you hand over your revolver?”

There was just a moment of hesitation.

“Yes,” was the answer.

“Very well,” said Nelson. “Reach it through the nearest port and lay it on the deck. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“You go and fetch it, Tommy.” Nelson whispered. In a moment Tom was back with the revolver in his hand.

“It isn’t loaded,” he whispered, “and it lu-lu-lu-looks like Bob’s.”

“It is Bob’s,” said Nelson, examining it.

“Bob su-su-says to stop the engine so as he cu-cu-can leave the wheel.”

Nelson obeyed and Bob tumbled impatiently down into the engine room.

“Are you going to let him out?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“Yes, we can manage him. And he can’t get away unless he swims. First, though, tell him to hand out the cartridges.”

Nelson followed the suggestion and Tom brought down Bob’s box of cartridges. Bob grimly loaded the revolver. When he was through he nodded to Nelson. The latter went to the door.

“I’m going to let you out on the understanding that you give yourself up and make no attempt to escape. Understand that?”

“Yes,” growled the prisoner.

“All right,” said Nelson. “Get out of the way, Barry.” The terrier for several minutes had been sniffing at the door and wagging his stump of a tail. Nelson shot back the bolt and stepped aside.

“Come out,” he commanded sternly.

Slowly the door opened, and then three jaws dropped simultaneously and three faces were overspread with amazement.

Out walked Dan!

CHAPTER XXIII – TELLS HOW THE FOUR ENCOUNTERED OLD ACQUAINTANCES

Have you ever, dear Reader, sat down in a chair when it wasn’t there? Or skated to skim ice supposing it to be two inches thick? Have you ever stood at the net, with the eyes of the “gallery” upon you, and smiled grimly and yet pityingly as you swung your racket up for the overhead smash that was to “kill” the ball, and then hit only air? If you have ever done any of these things you can have a dim idea, at least, of how Nelson and Bob and Tom looked and felt when Dan, alternately scowling like a desperado and grinning like a Chinese idol, opened the stateroom door and walked out upon them!

I would tell you just what each one said when he found his voice, only Barry kept up such a barking and Tommy such a stuttering that the remarks were anything but intelligible. And the same may be said of the conversation which followed for the next ten minutes. Dan explained and defended and the others questioned and accused; and Barry barked hilariously and enjoyed it all immensely. But in the course of time order evolved from chaos, and with returning calmness came returning hunger. Tom stopped “dropping stitches” and hurriedly put luncheon on the table. And by the time it was ready the Vagabond was tied up at the wharf where the Sylph belonged. At table Dan gave the first clear, orderly narration of events.

“You see,” he said, “when I got home I found that dad was getting ready to take a late train to Meriden on some business or other. But that wouldn’t give us much time with each other, so he said that if I’d come along he’d take the Norwich boat at six and go on from here this morning at 7.40. So that’s what we did.”

“We never thought about the boat,” said Nelson sadly.

“We got in about five this morning and had breakfast aboard. Then I showed dad the boat and he thought she was swell. Luckily I had the key with me and could get inside. Of course I was surprised to find you fellows weren’t aboard, but I thought maybe you’d gone to the hotel for dinner last night and that it had rained so hard you’d decided to spend the night there. But Barry was here and maybe he wasn’t glad to see me! Well, about half-past seven I saw dad off on the train. Then I came back and didn’t have anything to do. So I thought I’d like to see if I could run her myself. I’d watched Nel lots of times and was pretty sure I could do it. So I tried and there wasn’t any trouble at all. I thought you fellows would come along about eight and find the boat gone and have a fit. Then I was going to come back in time for the last spasm. But she went so well and it was such fun that I went farther than I meant to, and all of a sudden she got peeved and began to cut up.”

“How?” asked Nelson.

“She lost sparks and pretty near stopped. ‘Me to the rescue,’ thinks I. I’d seen you do stunts with the vaporizer thing, you know, so I tried my hand. Well, first thing I knew she wouldn’t go a foot! Just spit and sighed and sulked. I turned that wheel over about a thousand times, I’ll bet! Took my coat off and then my vest, and wilted my collar, but there was nothing doing. ‘Then,’ thinks I, ‘it’s up to little Dannie to do some towing.’ So I put the tender over and came down to change my clothes. That’s where I fell down.”

“I should think so,” said Bob disgustedly.

“You see,” continued Dan, with a grin, “I hadn’t slept very well on the boat coming from New York and I’d got up early. So I was awfully sleepy and tired. ‘So,’ says I to myself, ‘I’ll just lie down here on the bunk a minute and rest up’; I knew I had a hard job ahead of me. Well, that’s about all I remember until I woke up a while ago and smelled coffee; I guess it was the coffee that woke me. At first, when Nelson sung out and told me you were three to one, I thought I was still dreaming. Then I did some thinking and guessed that somehow or other you’d taken me for some one else. I didn’t know what the gag was, but I thought I’d see it through. When you told me to hand over my revolver I remembered Bob’s and got that out. I did what I could for you, you see. But I came near spoiling it by laughing. When I heard Nel’s stern voice I thought I’d have to stuff a pillow in my mouth!”

“It’s good you didn’t get gay and come through the door,” said Nelson grimly. “If you had you’d been laid out with a monkey wrench on the side of your head.”

“That would have been a wrench,” laughed Dan. “Give me some more of the hash, Tommy; it’s the best ever.”

After luncheon was over they decided to go on and try to make New Haven that evening. It was not yet three o’clock and they would have four hours and a half of daylight in which to cover about forty-five miles. So the tender was hoisted aboard and the Vagabond was cast loose from the wharf, and twenty minutes later they left the river water and turned westward. Bob gave a grunt of satisfaction.

“Well,” he said, “I’m glad to see the last of that place. I’d begun to think that we were going to spend the rest of the summer there!”

A moment later Tom pointed out the Seamont Inn where it stood on a hill a short distance back from the shore. And for the next half hour he regaled Dan with a history of his brief connection with that hostelry.

It was an ideal afternoon, with the hot sunshine tempered by a cool breeze from the southwest. On the starboard the picturesque Connecticut shore lay near at hand, jutting out into little promontories and retreating to form charming bays and inlets. On their other side, the distant shore of Long Island showed blue and hazy across the smooth waters of the Sound.

They made New Haven at a little after seven, found anchorage and rowed ashore in the tender. They had dinner ashore, idled away an hour about town afterwards and turned in early. The next morning they paid a visit to the post office and were rewarded with a good-sized bunch of mail. Then Dan telegraphed his folks to expect them for dinner that evening, and at nine o’clock they were on their way again. There followed an enjoyable but uneventful day. There was plenty to look at, since the Sound was alive with boats of all sorts and descriptions. They passed Stamford at one o’clock, the Vagabond taking up the miles and tossing them astern in a very businesslike manner. Once in the East River it was necessary to slow down on account of the traffic. Ferry boats and excursion steamers persisted in getting in the way, and sailing yachts and launches were everywhere. At a few minutes before six the Vagabond sidled up to a wharf near the end of Fifty-first Street and was made fast for the night. Dan’s father knew the owner of the property – Dan had often gone in bathing from that very spot when a few years younger – and the watchman promised to keep an eye on the launch. They made very swell toilets and then piled out for a walk across town to Dan’s house.

That evening was a merry one. It was good to sit down once more at a table a-glimmer with cut glass and radiant with white napery and flowers; in fact, it was good to be at home again, even if the home didn’t happen to belong to them all. Mr. and Mrs. Speede, who were old friends since the Four had spent several days there the preceding summer before their walking trip, made Bob and Nelson and Tom feel quite as much at home there as Dan himself; although I don’t believe much compulsion was necessary in Tom’s case; Tom would have made himself at home anywhere. Mr. Speede was much interested in the story of their trip, and especially in the adventure with Captain Sauder and Spencer Floyd.

“Well,” he said, “it’s too bad the captain got him again, for that’s just what happened, I guess, but you boys did all you could and I wouldn’t have had you do any less.”

“I suppose the poor kid’s halfway up North by this time,” observed Bob.

“And getting his lickings regular,” added Nelson.

“Maybe not, though,” said Tom hopefully. “Maybe he found another chance to run away and made a go of it.”

“Well, let’s hope so,” said Mr. Speede. “Now, how do you boys feel about a visit to one of the roof gardens? It’s late, but I guess we can see something of the show. At least we can keep cool.”

What they said was quite flattering to their host and to roof gardens. Bedtime came very late that night and breakfast time very late the next morning. It was an insufferably hot day in the city and that fact made them less regretful over leaving the comforts of Dan’s home. But the Speedes were busy getting ready to go to the country and even Tom felt that their presence wasn’t exactly necessary to Mrs. Speede’s happiness. Besides, their cruise was nearing its end, since the last letter that Nelson had received from his father made it plain that the Vagabond was expected back at Boston in a few days. So the Four said good-by at eleven and returned to the launch. They were to head for Boston, but as they had four or five days in which to get there, they proposed to stop once or twice along the Long Island shore on the way. But first it was necessary to put in gasoline, and to that end they dropped down the river to a wharf near the Brooklyn Bridge where that necessity was sold.

The fogs which made that summer well remembered along the coast had not yet taken their departure, and on the river distant objects were veiled in gray haze. So the Vagabond made the trip very cautiously, keeping a sharp watch for ferry boats, which, as every experienced launch knows, are blundering, awkward things which would just as lief run you down as not. But the wharf was made without misadventure and the Vagabond snuggled up to its side under the counter of a small schooner. While Nelson and Dan went ashore to order the gasoline Bob and Tom busied themselves cleaning up about the deck. It was while engaged at this task that Tom heard voices almost overhead. One of the voices sounded familiar in a dim sort of way and he began to wonder who was talking. From where he was he could not see the persons, for they were on the deck of the schooner and hidden by her rail. But presently Tom climbed to the cabin roof and craned his head. The next moment he was down again and out of sight in the cockpit. He had glimpsed only the heads and shoulders of two men. One was a well-dressed man, evidently a landsman, and Tom had never seen him before. But the other, and Tom had needed but the briefest glance to satisfy himself of the fact, was Captain Sauder!

Excitedly he dragged Bob into the engine room and told him. Bob laughed.

“Nonsense, Tommy!” he said. “Captain Sauder’s up North somewhere by this time.”

“Look yourself!” answered Tom. “But du-du-du-don’t let him su-su-see you!”

“I will,” answered Bob. But it wasn’t necessary, for as he returned to the cockpit his eyes traveled upward over the schooner’s stern and there in gold letters was the name:

HENRY NELLISNEW YORK

Impatiently they awaited the return of Nelson and Dan, keeping well out of sight the while. Presently the voices ceased, but whether the captain and the other man had left the schooner or merely moved away from the stern there was no telling. Nelson and Dan were back a moment later and listened eagerly to the news.

“What’s to be done?” asked Bob.

“Keep out of sight,” answered Nelson promptly, “until we’ve got our gasoline in and then move away as quietly as we can.”

“And leave Spencer?” asked Dan incredulously.

“No, but if the captain sees us here we’ll never have a show to see the boy. What we want to do is to keep out of sight. One of us, though, ought to stay around here and find out how long the schooner’s going to be here and whether Spencer is aboard of her. And Bob’s a good chap to do that.”

“Let me do it!” begged Dan.

“You! He’d recognize you first time he set eyes on you! You don’t think, do you, that he’s likely to forget a fellow that’s looked at him along a revolver barrel?”

Dan gave in.

“I’ll get into shore clothes,” said Bob, “and try to look as little as possible as I did when he saw me last. You tell me where you’ll be so that I can find you.” And he hurried down to the stateroom. When he returned Dan pretended not to know him, declaring finally that the “disgust” was perfect. Then, very carelessly, Bob climbed to the wharf and sauntered out of sight. During the operation of filling the gasoline tank the remaining three kept as much as possible out of sight, although they neither heard nor saw anything more of Captain Sauder. Finally, casting loose from the wharf, they pushed the Vagabond quietly away along the side of the Henry Nellis until they had rounded the end of the pier and were out of sight from the schooner. Then they dropped down the river until there were three wharves between them and the Nellis and found a new berth.

CHAPTER XXIV – WHEREIN SPENCER FLOYD LEAVES THE HENRY NELLIS

“Now what?” asked Dan when the Vagabond had been made fast in her new quarters at the end of a file of disreputable canal boats. “How are we going to get hold of Spencer?”

“It’s a heap easier to ask questions than to answer them,” replied Nelson. “Anyone got any suggestions?”