Part 14 (1/2)

”I was at the helm and had given instructions to my companions, who were all alert to help, to haul down most of the canvas before we attempted to make the point. They were busily engaged at this when we glided out to where we caught the full force of the gale, and it required all of my time and strength to hold her off the point. It was now quite dark and it was impossible to distinguish the land. The light off the point was plainly seen, but it lay so far out, to mark the course of large vessels, I dared not attempt to round it, but must make the s.p.a.ce between it and land, which I knew was ample, but I misjudged the distance and in a few moments we were hard aground on the shoals and were in a fair way of pounding to pieces.

”Work as we would, she was immovable, except to plow further into the slimy mud, gravel and oyster sh.e.l.ls of which the shoals consisted. We stripped her of every thread of canvas after trying to right her, thinking by so doing she would hold together for the night, but it was no use. We saw that she was doomed and prepared to leave her to her fate.

”We could hear the surf breaking off to port, and knew that we could reach land easily, so when she finally rolled over on her side and her hatches went awash, we gathered what we could of our effects and went overboard. I do not know how my companions fared after they entered the water. I had no difficulty in reaching land, for after being hurled sh.o.r.eward by the waves a few times, I found that I was not beyond my depth, and after being knocked down and almost strangled as the breakers came in, I scrambled ahead and finally found myself beyond their reach.

”My first thoughts were for the safety of my companions, and I called to see if I could locate them. The sound of my voice was drowned by the roar of the surf, but in a few minutes I heard a voice calling very near me, and it proved to be one of the boys. It was no time for congratulating each other on our escape, so we set to work to try and locate the rest of the party. One by one we heard them answer our shouts, and as each came in they aided in the search, until the last was found. None seemed any the worse for their experience, and as we were wet and chilled, with no means of providing a fire, we did not know what to do, so we decided to move a little way back, and by keeping in motion dry our clothes as best we could, and at any rate keep warm.

”We agreed to remain until morning and see what condition the Magnolia was in before we undertook to work our way back along the peninsula to the mainland. As the night advanced, I could hear the groaning of the timber in our disabled craft as it was subjected to the strain of the storm, and I thought of what I had done, and of poor old Dad, and I knew that the loss of the yacht would not hurt him as badly as my actions. I called my best boyhood friend, who had come as one of the party, off to one side and told him of my trouble, of how I had disregarded Dad's wishes, and confided to him that if the Magnolia proved to be a total loss in the morning, I would not return to Dad, and gave him a message to deliver to him saying that I would not return or write until, by my own efforts, I could replace the yacht.

”My friends tried to persuade me to give up the idea, as such action would but add to Dad's trouble. But I was obdurate, and lest I be persuaded to abandon my purpose, I left them a few hours after our conversation without waiting to see the result of the wreck that had been caused by my folly.

”After leaving my friends I followed the ridge of the peninsula back to the mainland and continued to walk until about noon the next day, when I was forced to seek rest, as I was completely exhausted. When I reached a little village, I purchased a flannel s.h.i.+rt and overalls, and my ident.i.ty was lost. With the funds I had in my possession and the check Dad had given me, I managed to work my way out here, and you know the rest.”

Jack Norton had not been interrupted during the time he was telling his story. His hearers sat deeply interested, but when he reached the end of his narrative it brought them back to their surroundings. After a moment's silence, Jack's father, who had been seated with his chair tilted back, came down with a crash, and seizing Jack by the hand exclaimed:

”Why, Jack, the 'Magnolia' was not hurt. Your friends brought her into port a few days later and she is now as good as ever.”

Young Norton was dumfounded. ”How did they do it?” he asked.

”By the aid of some fishermen and a small tug who sighted them in distress the following morning. She had only keeled over in the mud, and as there were no rocks upon which to pound she hung together and they soon had her righted and under sail. So you see, my boy, you have had all this suffering for nothing,” explained his father.

”No, not altogether for nothing, for I have learned a very great lesson; not to jump at conclusions and to abide by an agreement; and besides,”

he said, smiling, ”I have acquired a home of my own and,” stepping over to Ida's side and taking her by the hand, a.s.sisted her to arise, ”Miss Gully has done me the honor to promise to share this home with me, which more than repays me for my sufferings. I ask but one other favor in this world, and that is your forgiveness and blessings, Dad.”

It was now Jack's father's turn to be taken by surprise, but he was too old a diplomat to be caught off his guard, and he wanted to know more of the step his son was contemplating before giving it his approval, so he bowed politely to Ida and answered: ”As for my forgiveness, son, you have it, but it would be strange if I should go out into the world to look for a lost son and should return with both a son and daughter.” But he did not commit himself.

The rest of the party who had heard Jack's story and its happy ending came forward to congratulate he and Ida, and express their hopes for their future.

Travis Gully and his wife, who had not yet been able to fully understand the situation, were happy because the outcome had seemed to please Jack, and they knew that after the strangers had gone he would tell them all about it in a way they could understand.

Mr. Norton arose from the table and asked Gully if he could find accommodations for the driver of his car, as he would like to spend the night with his son in his home alone. Mr. Palmer, he said, could take the other car and the rest of the party and return to the village and await his coming.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The change wrought by honest toil and that magic word, irrigation._]

Gully said that he thought there would be no difficulty in providing for him, and so it was arranged. Mr. Palmer and Dugan, with the three remaining members of the party, who proved to be some friends of Mr.

Norton's who had accompanied him on this trip with the view to investing in land, were to return to the village and await Mr. Norton's coming.

After thanking Travis Gully and his wife for their hospitality, they shook hands with them and the young people, and with promises to see them again in a few days, left for the village.

Soon after their departure, Mr. Norton expressed a desire to visit Jack's homestead.

”All right, Dad,” exclaimed Jack, ”we will run over there, and I will return later and get my horse and buggy.”

”I'll take care of them; you go with your father,” said Gully.

Jack thanked him and he and his father drove off together. Just as they were turning from the road that led to the school house Jack noticed that Miss Anderson had just dismissed school, and asked his father's permission to take her and the Gully children home in the car, to which his father consented. Turning back into the road, they soon met them, and as the car was turned around to pick them up, Jack called to Miss Anderson and invited her and the children to ride; when she smilingly approached the car and before she could express her thanks, Jack introduced his father. Miss Anderson stopped short, and her bewildered look amused Jack, who had stepped out to a.s.sist her and the children to enter the car.

”Don't ask any questions now,” said he, laughing.