The Launch Boys' Cruise in the Deerfoot

Mike Murphy stumbled as near as he could to the Deerfoot and stared out in the darkness. A moment after it disappeared a partial clearing of the clouds in front of the moon brought it dimly into sight again. This lasted but a brief interval when it vanished for good.

"Good-by," called the lad. "I did the best fur ye that I knowed, and now ye must take care of yersilf, which the same has to be done by Mike Murphy."

The youth was a philosopher, and with his rugged health and naturally buoyant spirits he took the rosiest view he could of his situation. It was clear that in more than one respect he was better off on this mass of rocks and sand than in the launch – that is, during the darkness. So long as he was afloat with no lights burning, he was in great danger of being run down by some larger boat. In the event of such a calamity he was liable to be caught in a crush where his life preserver could not save him.

But no such fate could overtake the lad while on the islet. The Mauretania or Lusitania or even the Olympic could not run into that collection of rocks and sand without getting the worst of it.

Now, as has been shown, Mike was really safer where he had landed, for no harm could come to him on White Island, yet his situation was anything but pleasant. He was marooned and could not leave his ocean prison without help. There was little hope of anything of the kind so long as night remained with him, but the morrow ought to bring rescue. Until then he must content himself as best he could.

But he was not the one to sit down with folded hands. Nature had gifted him with a powerful voice and he fancied he might turn it to use. A twinkling light gliding or bobbing over the water here and there showed that not all the world was asleep. His own experience told him he had neighbors. Accordingly he lifted up his voice and shouted with might and main:

"Hilp! hilp! somebody come to me hilp!"

He directed the tones toward different points of the compass, but a half hour passed, during which perforce he often rested, without any sign of success. And then he was thrilled by what resembled a lantern, twinkling from the direction of the Hypocrites to the westward. He renewed his call, and to add force to it, waved his arms and danced up and down on the rock to whose top he had climbed, though of course such antics were of no help.

Fifteen minutes removed all doubt. The light, sinking and falling with the moderate waves, was drawing nearer. Although his voice had grown husky, he spared it not.

"Right this way! Don't be afeard! I won't hurt ye! Hurry up, ye spalpeens!"

A hundred yards or so off – too far for him to see the boat or its occupants – the rowers paused. From out the gloom came the call:

"Hello there! what's the matter?"

"I'm shipwrecked! Come and take me off!"

The words must have sounded suspicious to those for whom they were intended.

"How came you to be cast away?"

"I landed here awhile ago and when I warn't looking me owld boat slipped from me, bad cess to her!"

This was less satisfactory to the two men, who were probably robbing lobster pots. They talked together for a few minutes, though the anxious listener could not hear what they said.

"What boat was it?" asked the one who acted as spokesman.

"The Deerfut– a motor boat that b'longs to me friend Alvin Landon, whose dad owns half the city of New York. He'll give ye a million dollars fur taking care of Mike Murphy, which is mesilf."

This announcement had an altogether different effect from what the youth expected.

"If you're worth that much we'll let some one else earn the money. Good night!"

It was an act of wanton cruelty, but it is a fact none the less that the couple closed their ears to the appeal and rowed away in the darkness. When certain that they were deserting him Mike changed the tenor of his prayer and urged them to come back long enough to receive the chastisement he was aching to give them.

It was a bitter disappointment, but the lad felt he had more cause to be grateful to heaven that he had to repine.

"I may as well make up me mind to stay here a bit, as Jim O'Toole said whin he begun his ten years sintence in jail. The weather is mild, and though it looks like rain I don't think it will come yet awhile. I'll saak me couch and go to sleep."

The danger of bruises from a fall prevented his groping long for shelter. Exposed to the open sea the islet was swept by a gentle breeze which brought the ocean's coolness with it. After much care and patience, he found a place where he was quite well screened. Passing his hands over the rough surface, he said with a touch of his waggishness which seemed never to leave him:

"This is softer than anywhere ilse, as me mother said whin she took her hands out of the dough and laid 'em on me head."

Mike never forgot his prayers, and when he lay down he was in a thankful frame of mind despite the trying experiences through which he had passed. Quite soon he was sleeping as profoundly as if in his bed at home. Such is the reward of good habits and right living.

The night must have been well along when he sank into unconsciousness. That his tired body needed the rest was proved by the fact that he did not open his eyes until half the next day was past. He felt stiff and cramped from lying so long on his hard couch, and it was several minutes before he recalled all the events of the preceding day and night.

Climbing to the top of the highest rock he gazed out over the waters. He felt no concern for the Deerfoot, which had played him the shabby trick, for if he saw it he could expect nothing from it. His most poignant consciousness was that he never was so hungry in his life. He could not recall that he had ever gone without food so long, and his craving gave him more anxiety than did the future.

In whichever direction he turned his gaze he saw small boats, schooners, brigs, steamers and various kinds of vessels, most of them too far off for him to hope to attract their attention. The nearest was a schooner, more than a mile away and gliding northward. It so happened that much the larger number of craft were heading outward. Mike shrewdly reflected:

"If they pick me up they'll niver turn round to take me home, but will speed away to the ither side of the world. I must catch one of 'em that's coming in, so he won't lose time in giving me a lift."

He picked his way to the southern end of the islet, where a broad sweep of water separated him from the other bit of land, and gazed out over the vast Atlantic which swept from horizon to horizon.

"I would display a flag of distriss on the top of a pole, if it warn't fur two raisons. The first is I haven't any pole to erict on these rocks, and the ither is that I'd have to use me own clothes for the flag, which the same would be apt to drive away all hilp."

Mike Murphy cut a strange figure, dancing, shouting, swinging his arms and waving his cap, but sad to say not a solitary person seemed to see him, or else he not did think it worth while to give further attention to the marooned youth.

"It looks loike it will be a failure, as Tim Ryan said whin he tried to throw the prize bull over a stone wall."

Accordingly, Mike returned to the upper end of the islet to learn whether any hope lay in that direction. His growing fear was that he was in danger of starving to death.

"Anither night will doot," he said, despairing for the moment – "PHWAT!"

The first look northward showed him the Deerfoot, speeding past barely a fourth of a mile distant. Had he not spent so much time at the other end of his refuge he would have observed her long before.

He stood for a spell unable to believe the evidence of his senses. Then, when the glorious truth burst upon him, he uttered the words that have already been recorded.

CHAPTER XXX

A New England Home Coming

The amazement of Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes was as overwhelming as that of Mike Murphy. For a brief while they stared across the water, without the Captain shifting the wheel. It is said that a person's voice is the surest means of disclosing his identity, but Mike's tones did not sound natural because of their hoarseness. There was no mistaking that sturdy figure, however, that stood on the top of one of the rocks, acting like a lunatic, as indeed he was for the moment.

The boat was brought as close to shore as was safe, where Mike stood waiting. Letting go of the wheel, Alvin stepped forward and reached out his hand, which was grasped by the lad, who leaped aboard. The scene that followed would have brought moisture to the eyes of the most indifferent spectator. Alvin flung his arms about the neck of Mike, with a fervent "Thank God!" and Mike responded in kind. Then Chester did the same, and for a moment none spoke because he could not.

"Arrah, now! don't be childers! Brace up the same as mesilf and be a mon! Did ye iver see me betray sich foolish waakness? It's mesilf that's ashamed – "

Mike's voice suddenly broke, and dropping onto the nearest seat, he impulsively covered his face with his hands and with heaving shoulders sobbed as if the fountains of his grief were broken up. His friends smiled, but it was through their tears. The boat drifted from the rocks, and for some length of time the propeller was motionless.

Mike was the first to recover his self-control. He was laughing as with his handkerchief he wiped his eyes.

"Begorra! it's a fool that I am, as Jerry Connolly remarked whin he mistook a billiard ball for a pratie. I say, byes, will ye do me a favor?"

"There isn't anything we wouldn't gladly do for you," replied Alvin, taking his place at the wheel and moving the lever which set the screw revolving.

"Both of ye sarch yer clothes and saa whither ye haven't a few loaves of bread, some biled praties and a pound or two of maat hidden in the same."

"I'm sorry to say, Mike," replied Chester, "that we haven't a mouthful of food here on board. We have already had our dinner."

"And the only maal I've got is the one I've got to git."

"We'll make all haste to Boothbay where you shall have the biggest feast of your life," said Alvin, giving the craft full speed with her nose pointed to the northwest.

"And whin I'm through there'll be a famine started in the town, as was always the case whin dad took his dinner in any of the near-by places at home."

As the Deerfoot cut her way through the water with a speed that sent the spray flying over the wind-shield, Mike told his story, which you may be sure was listened to with rapt interest by his friends. They in turn gave him all the facts that were new to him, and each fervently thanked God for His great mercy.

The afternoon was nearly gone when the Deerfoot settled to rest beside the floating wharf, and was made fast and left in charge of the same man who had done similar duty before. Then the three walked briskly up the steps and street to the hotel.

"The bist plan will be to order dinner for the thraa of us," whispered Mike; "that will be classy."

"We have had our midday meal," said Alvin, "and the regular dinner time is an hour or more away."

"Whist now, I'll see that none of the stuff is wasted."

Suffice it to say that great as was the strain upon the resources of the hotel, it proved equal to the call, and Mike ate the biggest meal of his life. Alvin and Chester sat at the table with him, each drinking a cup of tea, but preferring no food until the usual time. You may be sure the hour was a merry one, and the guest did not stop feasting until the limit of his capacity was reached.

When they passed down the main street and turned off to the landing, it had become fully dark and lights were showing in the stores and houses. Both Alvin and Chester noted a peculiar fact: most of those whom they met stared curiously at Mike Murphy. The chums observed the same thing on their way up the street, but it was more marked on their return.

"I'm not to blame if I'm so much purtier than aither of ye, that I compil the admiration of others. It has been the same wheriver I strayed."

This was the explanation given by the subject of the scrutiny. The youths were too modest to differ with their genial companion, but the man left in charge of the boat glanced sharply at the Irish lad, and said to Alvin:

"I'm mighty glad."

"Mighty glad of what?" asked the surprised Captain.

"That that chap wasn't drowned."

"Why should he be drowned more than we or you?"

"I can't say that he should," replied the other, adding naught in the way of enlightenment. Alvin was annoyed, but said nothing further, and soon the Deerfoot, with lights burning, was gliding at moderate speed down the bay and along the eastern coast of Southport Island. There, as you will recall, were the homes of Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes, near the shore and almost opposite Squirrel Island. Chester had accepted his friend's invitation to spend the night with him. This made it unnecessary to run the Deerfoot to the shelter provided for her near the dwelling of Chester. The promise of fair weather was so marked that there was no hesitation in mooring the launch in the open without the canvas which would have been stretched over the exposed parts to protect them from possible rain.

The night was clear, with the stars shining. Later the moon would appear, but our friends were so familiar with the way that they would not have hesitated had the gloom been much deeper. They were within a mile of Alvin's home when they caught sight of the lights and outlines of a small boat on the opposite course. It was farther out than they, and they could not see distinctly until they came opposite, with barely a hundred feet between them. It was going very much faster than they themselves.

"Alvin," said Chester in some excitement, "I believe that is the Shark."

"It looks like her. What can she have been doing down here?"

Chester shouted:

"Hello, George!"

There was no reply, though the man aboard could not have failed to hear them.

"You must have been mistaken," said Alvin.

"I'm sure I was not, though I can't imagine why he didn't answer. Well, it's a small matter anyway."

Mike who had been silent for some time now spoke:

"Byes, I'm a wee bit unaisy, as Jim Concannon said whin he found his trousers was on fire at the top and bottom."

"What about?" asked Chester.

"I'm fearing that the account which dad has piled up agin me is so big that he will lack the strength to square it."

"He will be so glad to see you back that I'm sure he will think of naught else," assured Alvin.

"Whin I say to him that I didn't understand his words at the time I was sailing by yisterday and he ordered me to come ashore, he won't cridit the same. Ye see he doesn't – ah! I have it fixed!" exclaimed Mike, delighted with the idea that had flashed into his brain.

"Let's hear it."

"I'll linger behind while ye two go forrid and say to dad and mither that poor Mike has been drowned."

"Why in the name of common sense should we say that?" asked the astonished Chester.

"I want ye to break the news of me coming gintly; after they have digisted the story of me drowning, ye can say yer tongue slipped and ye meant to say I come near drowning but didn't quite make it."

"That's the most original way of telling news," said Alvin, with a laugh. "I can't see how it will be of much help, but I'll do what I can. What have you to suggest, Chester?"

"It's clear that unless we pave the way for Mike he is in for a big trouncing. I advise that he stay on the boat while we go forward and call upon his folks. We can prove to them that he has been in great danger and soften the heart, I hope, of his father."

"And thin whin the right moment comes I'll appear to 'em," said Mike, who was pleased with the scheme. "But how will I know whin that right moment arrives?" he asked.

"One of us will open the front door and whistle."

"Don't whistle too soon or wait too long, as Jack Mulrooney did whin he ate a green persimmon before whistlin' fur his dog."

Fearing that the noise of the launch might attract the attention of the father of Mike, and bring him out doors, the son curled down in the cockpit, where he could not be seen by anyone on shore. Chester sprang out and made the launch fast and Alvin followed him. Before they left, Mike raised his head.

"Are you sure the Deerfut won't play me the same trick it did last night and run away wid me?" he asked.

"No fear of that; if it does, you know how to run it?"

"Have ye 'nough gas in the b'iler?"

"Oh, keep still and don't show yourself, or I shall tell your father you are here and waiting for the licking he is saving for you."

Mike dropped down out of sight, and though he immediately thought of several important questions to ask, did not do so. He must now wait with all the patience he could summon for the signal that it was prudent for him to show himself.

It was only a brief walk to the care-taker's house, and the light shining through the window and the sound of voices told that the couple were at home. But in the very act of opening the door, the boys paused.

"What does that mean?" asked Alvin of his companion.

"I don't understand it," was the reply.

Mrs. Murphy was sobbing and lamenting like a woman distracted. Her husband seemed to be silent, as if holding himself in better control. Finally they caught some of her wailing exclamations:

"Poor Micky! the darlint is drowned and it's me heart that is broke! Wurrah! wurrah! woe is me!"

CHAPTER XXXI

The Man in Gray

You know there are some people who can never keep a secret. We have all met them, much to our disgust. George, the "chauffeur" of the little runabout launch Shark, was such a person. Possibly when he gave his promise to Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes not to reveal what then seemed the fate of Mike Murphy, he meant to do as he said, but somehow or other he was not equal to the task.

He kept mum on the dreadful subject until he had secured his boat and walked up the street past Hodgdon's well-known store, when he met an acquaintance with whom he briefly chatted. By the time they had finished, he had told him, under a solemn pledge to mention it to no one, all about the sad death of the Irish lad from drowning. Within the following hour this friend told the story to three others, all of whom agreed upon their sacred honor to say nothing about it to anyone. They kept the promise as well as George himself, who broke it three or four times more in the period named. One of the depositaries of the gruesome news was the guard who stood watch over the Deerfoot, while the owner and his companions went to the hotel to see that the hunger of the marooned young gentleman was appeased. This statement will explain the curious glances at the little group as they moved about the town, as well as the remark of the guard upon their return to the motor boat.

As night approached, George was impressed with his duty of acquainting the parents of Mike with the dreadful blow that had befallen them. They must hear of it sooner or later, and it was best that they should get it straight. Accordingly he motored thither, completing what I fear was not an unwelcome task in time to meet the Deerfoot engaged on the same errand. Of course he heard the hail of Chester. He did not reply, for he was in no mood to make explanations and receive censure for what he had done from a high sense of duty – as the offender always insists in similar circumstances.

Everything was so plain to Alvin and Chester that throughout the conversation that followed their entrance into the home of Pat Murphy, they did not once ask the much afflicted parents of the source from which they had received their information.

The father was sitting in his chair at the side of the room bowed and silent in grief that was too deep for him to seek solace from his pipe. The wife sat on the other side of the room, rocking to and fro, flinging her apron over her face, the tears flowing down her cheeks, and her features twisted with anguish. So absorbed were they in their sorrow that they hardly glanced at the boys and did not address them.

Alvin could not restrain his sympathy at sight of the suffering of the couple, the father's none the less than the mother's because it was mute. The youth's promise to Mike was thrown to the winds and he called out:

"Stop your mourning! Mike hasn't been drowned!"

"Phwat's that ye say?" demanded the father, who half rising from his chair was staring at the lad as if doubting the words that had reached him. The wife, grasping each side of her apron with a hand and about to fling it upward, was equally quick in checking herself and with her mouth wide open she hoarsely exclaimed:

"Phwat! Say that agin!"

"Mike is alive and well as he ever was in his life."

They still stared, dazed and unable for the moment to speak another word. The callers sat down.

"I say again that Mike is well and safe. He spent last night on a little island not many miles away and we brought him back in the Deerfoot."

The mother still gazed and clutched her apron. Her husband showed that he caught the meaning of what he had heard.

"And where is Mike?"

The question recalled Alvin's promise to pave the way for his friend's return to his home.

"Before I tell you," said the Captain, "you must give me your pledge that you will not punish him for what happened last night. Will you do so?"

"That I will," was the unhesitating answer. "He desarves a licking, but we'll call it square – that is," was the qualifying condition, "so far as this thing is consarned."

"What! lick me baby Mike!" exclaimed the glad mother; "not in a thousand years! Where is the darlint that I may kiss the hid off him?"

"Remember, Pat, what you just said. Mike isn't to be blamed for what took place and you should be as thankful – "

Just then a terrific crash was heard in the kitchen, the door to which was closed. The mother, in her highly wrought state, screamed and sprang to her feet. Her husband snatched up the candle from the stand in the middle of the room and ran to learn what the uproar meant, with his wife just behind him.

It seemed to be a night for the general breaking of promises. It will be remembered that Mike had agreed to stay on board the Deerfoot until he saw the door of his home opened by one of his friends and heard a whistle as notice that the path had been cleared and he might go forward. The two, however, had hardly entered the building when Mike changed his mind. With a refreshing forgetfulness of what he had lately passed through, he said:

"It's mesilf that is in danger of catching a cowld in my hid, as Larry McCarty said after slaaping in an ice box, and in stepping ashore, I may as well step a little furder."

Thus it came about that Alvin and Chester were no more than fairly inside the small house when Mike moved softly to the door and listened to the voices within. He was disappointed in not being able to distinguish everything said, though it will be recalled that no one spoke in whispers.

Suddenly it occurred to the boy that he could do much better if within the house itself. The darkness of the kitchen showed that the door connecting that with the sitting room was closed. He knew he could hear more plainly from the smaller room.

Being in darkness, he had to depend upon the sense of feeling. It was no trouble to raise the sash without making any noise. When lifted well up, the catch held it in place and he began crawling stealthily through. He saw the thin line of light under the door and heard what was being said on the other side. Knowing the room so well he needed no illumination to guide him. He balanced himself for a moment and then dropped lightly to the floor. More properly he tried to do so, but unaware of the chair in his way, he tumbled over that, which in turn tumbled over him, and caused the crash that startled those in the sitting room and brought his parents to learn what it all meant.

One glance at the sturdy figure struggling to his feet and muttering impatient exclamations told the mother who he was. Thrusting her husband aside, she rushed forward, straightened up the overturned chair, and dropping into it, seized her boy with both arms: