Part 7 (2/2)
CHAPTER VIII.
ANOTHER SIGNAL OF DISTRESS.
Now that the boys had lost all fear of the Bonita, half their troubles seemed suddenly to have vanished. As a matter of course, Harry and Walter grieved because of the sorrow their unexplainable absence must have caused at home; but their distress of mind was lessened very materially by the belief that they would soon be in a condition to return.
Even Bob appeared to be relieved by what was evidently the solution of the mystery, and it was quite a jolly party which gathered in the saloon to partake of the dinner prepared by Jim.
”Now that things seem to be straightened up a bit, an' all hands are feelin' kinder nat'ral-like, I reckon we'll get some sail on the old hooker this afternoon,” Bob said when the meal was finished and he had begun to make ready for the after-dinner smoke.
”There ain't wind enough to lift a pocket-handkerchief,” Jim suggested, ”so why do you want more canvas?”
”I don't reckon it'll hold calm a great while, an' we must be ready when the breeze does come. There's time now to give Harry an' Walter a lesson in workin' s.h.i.+p, an' they need it.”
The boys had no objection to make, for a certain amount of labor was necessary if they ever hoped to reach home again, and they signified their willingness to begin at once; but the old sailor insisted on finis.h.i.+ng his smoke before doing anything else.
”There's plenty of time,” he said lazily, ”an' we'll lay under the awnin' till the sun gets a little nearer the water.”
Then he arose from the table, and as the boys followed on deck they were electrified by hearing him shout, as he shaded his eyes from the glare and gazed southward:
”There's a steamer, lads! Now all we've got to do is hook on an' be towed into port. Set the flag so's they'll know we're in distress, an'
we'll overhaul the hawsers to save time.”
Before he ceased speaking the boys had made out that which caused Bob so much excitement. It was a small craft coming toward them under steam, as could be told from the thread of smoke which floated on the still air, and after one glance at her Jim hoisted the signal of distress while the others gathered in the bows to watch the welcome approach.
”It ain't a very big steamer,” the young fisherman said as he rejoined his companions.
”Most likely she's a tug what's got blown out to sea,” Bob replied as he went into the cabin for a gla.s.s; and when he came on deck again the boys waited impatiently to learn what could be seen.
During fully ten minutes the old sailor held the gla.s.s to his eyes, while a mystified expression came over his face as he said to Jim:
”Here, take this an' see what you can make out. It puzzles me, for a fact.”
”She looks like a tug,” the boy said, after gazing at the approaching craft several seconds; ”but there's something queer on her bow.”
”What about her spars?” Bob asked impatiently.
”She's got two short masts, and----Why, what's that? She's flying a signal of distress!”
”That's about the size of it,” Bob exclaimed as he brought his hand down on the rail with a vigorous slap as if to give emphasis to his words.
”I thought my eyes must be playin' me a trick, so that's why I asked you to look. Her bow has been stove, an' she's workin' up this way for help.”
”Well,” and Jim lowered the gla.s.s with a gesture of disappointment, ”she's comin' to a pretty poor place, for we've got our hands full tryin' to help ourselves.”
During the next half hour hardly a word was spoken, so occupied were all hands with watching the stranger, which approached very slowly, and at the end of that time she was almost within hailing distance.
It was a small tug with a flag run half-way up the stumpy mainmast, and her bow stove from the cut-water nearly to the pilot-house. A stream of water coming from the starboard side told that the steam-pump was necessary to keep her afloat; but no person save a boy about eighteen years of age, who was at the wheel, could be seen.
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