Part 26 (1/2)

”Then he remembered that the wireless instruments were clamped on to a wooden bench and he went into the deck-house to try to tear that apart.

The door slammed as he went in, and while he was yanking at the bench the s.h.i.+p buckled and the pressure jammed the door, making him a prisoner. He seems to remember very little after that, but he must have tried hard to get out, for he broke his arm in some way.”

”How about the wireless messages?”

”He says the operator had jotted down the original message he had sent, and he tried to repeat it as best he could. Of course all that last stuff no one could understand was sent when he was semi-conscious.”

Eric winced as the other touched his shoulder.

”Get ready now,” the surgeon said, ”I'm going to snap that bone back into place. Ready?”

”Go ahead,” the boy answered through set teeth.

The surgeon gave a quick sharp twist and there was a click as the shoulder went back.

”That's going to be a bit sore for a while,” he said, ”but you ought to be mighty thankful you put it out of joint.”

”Why?”

”You'd have broken something instead, if it hadn't slipped,” was the reply; ”you must have hit that door an awful welt, for you're bruised on that side from the shoulder down. Just black and blue with a few touches of reddish purple. You're an impressionist sketch on the bruise line, I tell you! But there's nothing serious there. Using your carca.s.s for a battering ram is apt to make a few contusions, and you've done well to get off so easily.”

”I had to get into that deck-house. I wanted to be sure no one was there.”

”It took more than wanting,” the surgeon said, ”you must have been just about crazy. A man's got to be nearly in the state of a maniac before he'll hurl himself against an iron door like that without thinking of the consequences to himself. You were out of your head with pain, Swift, the way it looks to me, you'd never have tried it in your sober senses.”

”Glad I got crazy, then, Doctor,” said Eric, gingerly moving himself a fraction of an inch, but wincing as he did so; ”if I hadn't, I'd have failed.”

”Well,” the surgeon said, rising to go, ”I think the fates have been mighty good to you, Swift, if you ask me. There's many a man has the daring and the pluck to do what you've done, but never has the chance.

You had your chance. And you made good!”

As a matter of course, Eric's bunk became a center round which the other cadets gravitated, and his cla.s.smates did everything they could to make things as pleasant for him as possible. He was glad, none the less, when two or three days later, he was told that he might go up on deck.

The boy was scarcely aware of it, but with his shoulder and arm bandaged and both feet heavily swathed, he made rather a pathetic sight, which his white and drawn face accentuated. A hammock had been rigged up on the sunny side of the deck and to this he was carried.

Just as soon as he appeared on deck, for an instant there was a cessation of all work that was going on. Then, suddenly, started by no one knew whom, from the throat of every man on deck came a burst of cheers. It was the tribute of gallant men to a gallant lad.

Weakly, and with a lump in his throat, Eric saluted with his left hand, in reply.

It was an infraction of discipline, no doubt, but the officer in charge of the deck ignored it. Indeed, he was afterwards heard to say that he had difficulty in not joining in himself. A little later in the day, the captain himself came on deck. Before going below, he came amids.h.i.+ps where Eric was lying, feeling weak, but thoroughly happy.

”I have the pleasure of informing you, Mr. Swift,” he said, formally, ”that I have entered your name in the s.h.i.+p's log for distinguished services.”

This was more than Eric could have hoped for and he saluted gratefully.

The boy realized how much more significant was this actual visit of the captain than if it had followed the usual custom of a message sent through the executive officer of the s.h.i.+p, and his pride and delight in the Coast Guard was multiplied.

Naturally, under the conditions, there was a slight relaxation of discipline in Eric's case, and more than once the first lieutenant came and chatted to the lad. Finding out that he was especially interested in Alaska, the lieutenant talked with him about the work of the Coast Guard in the Bering Sea and the Arctic Ocean. The officer was an enthusiast about the Eskimo, holding them to be a magnificent race, enduring the rigors of the far north and holding themselves clean from the vices of civilization. As one of his cla.s.smates was taking up Eskimo language, Eric also took up the study of it, since he had spare time on his hands while in sick-bay. Meantime, however, he kept up his studies at top notch.

The value of the Eskimo language to him, however, Eric never realized until the close of his third year. Though limping a good deal, he had been able to be up and around for a month before the exams and he had been slaving like a forty-mule team. Still, work as hard as he could, the boy was conscious that there were others who could surpa.s.s him.

Especially there was one, a fellow called Pym Arbuthnot, who was a hard compet.i.tor.