QUEEN'S TRANSPORTATION COMPANY.A marvellous opportunityto see the magnificent sceneryof Seawall Bay by motor boat.Roomy accommodations.Courteous attendants.Every convenience.For the small sumof 25 cents.Start made from Seawall Pier every hour.First trip 10 a. m. to-day.Per orderBOARD OF DIRECTORS.
QUEEN'S TRANSPORTATION COMPANY.
A marvellous opportunityto see the magnificent sceneryof Seawall Bay by motor boat.Roomy accommodations.Courteous attendants.Every convenience.For the small sumof 25 cents.Start made from Seawall Pier every hour.First trip 10 a. m. to-day.Per order
BOARD OF DIRECTORS.
The notice was prepared by the ready pen of the Codfish, and it was given an added interest by a slap-dash drawing of a motor boat coasting down the side of a big wave, while little fishes and big fishes stood on their tails in astonishment. Of course, every one who read went down to the pier at the hour named, and the young navigators started out on their first trip with every seattaken. During the trip the Codfish acted as a kind of guide to the party and pointed out the "magnificent scenery," adding many fictitious details as theBlack Duckplowed along. The passengers, when landed at the starting point after an hour's trip, voted it the best ride they had ever taken and made way for a new boatload.
It was a day of rushing business for the new company, and the profits before nightfall came to something over ten dollars.
This first day of business was the index of many days to come, and the money rolled in rapidly. "A little while more, fellows, and we will own half of her," said the captain, as they laid up to the pier one fine day waiting for passengers.
"Which half, Captain," inquired the Codfish; "bow or stern?"
"Never mind which," returned Frank. "You keep on with your superb management and we will have a property here worth while. Here comes another load for us. There's about two dollars in this for us. Hustle up, my hearties, and be ready to lend a hand, Fatty." This to Lewis, who never disturbed himself unless under orders. Lewis crawled laboriously over the gunwale onto the float.
"Well, well, well," said a young man of the party who had just come upon the float. "If my eyes do not deceive me, the captain of that ocean-goingmotor boat is none other than my old friend, Frank Armstrong!"
Frank, who had been fussing with the motor, raised his head. "Mr. Burton!" he exclaimed. "Glad to see you! I didn't know you were around here."
"I can say the same to you. How long have you been a navigator?" he added, as the party of young folks climbed aboard. "And there's Jimmy and your little fat friend. My, this is quite a reunion. Arrived only a day or two ago."
The boys grinned their pleasure at the meeting.
"Do any swimming now?" said Burton as the boat got under way.
"Oh, yes, we take the mornings for that. We do a little in athletics up at Queen's School and we're kept in training, especially for football."
"Oh, yes, you are a Freshman up there."
"No, we are in our second year," said Jimmy proudly.
"I beg your pardon," said Burton, laughing; "it is hard to be taken for a Freshman when you've got away beyond that unhappy period. Now, it is fortunate, Frank, you've kept up your swimming, because I want you to come down to Turner's Point next week and show some of thosefellows how we used to swim down in Florida. Can you come?"
"Can't leave my transportation job very well," replied Frank.
"Oh, hang your transportation job! There will be no one to transport that day. Every one will be down to the carnival. You know what a crowd we had last year, and it's going to be a bigger affair than ever. There'll be lots of people to come down from Seawall. Why don't you run a special excursion, swim in the meet and take your crowd back home in the evening? There you are, business and pleasure combined."
"Sounds good to me," said Frank. "How about it for you, Jimmy, and you, Codfish and Lewis?"
"Oh, come along," said Burton. "I'll put you down, Frank, in the hundred-yard race or anything you want to go in for. They've made me master of ceremonies again. And you will be interested to know that your old rival, Peters, is back at the Point and swimming better than ever. He's been practicing, he told me, hoping for the chance to get back at you. Don't you want to take another fall out of him?"
Frank's eyes brightened. "I wouldn't mind," he added slowly. "I'm stronger than I was ayear ago, but I don't know that I've improved the stroke you taught me."
"I'm sure it's all right," said the buoyant Burton. "I'll come up to-morrow morning and see what you've been doing in the way of speed, and after looking you and Jimmy over I can tell the distance you can swim best. Is it a go?"
"It's a go for me," said Frank.
"Me, too," said Jimmy.
"Ditto," said Lewis.
"And how about Mr. Gleason?" said Burton.
"The Codfish, in spite of his name, hates the water except in the bathtub," said Jimmy. "But he'd be a fine scorer, eh, Codfish?"
"Anything the captain says is good enough for me," said the Codfish. "He's the boss. I'm on a salary and under orders."
"Well, you can be an ornament to the stake boat, or the float, or anywhere you want to be. It's settled that you are to come?" said Burton.
The boys nodded. Burton went back to his party and the boys gave their attention wholly to navigation to the end of the trip.
"Don't forget, now; I'm going to be up your way in the morning. Be all ready in your suits,"Burton called back over his shoulder, as with his friends he left the Seawall pier.
Next morning the boys met early at the old swimming place and were splashing about trying various strokes, when Burton's black head showed in the water a quarter of a mile off shore.
"By the great horn spoon," said Jimmy, "there he is, swimming up, and it's nearly a mile from the Point."
"He must be a wonder," said the Codfish; "I wouldn't take all that exercise if you were to give me theBlack Duckand all her feathers. But there's no accounting for tastes. I'm overcome thinking how much energy he is wasting." The Codfish was perched on a dry bit of rock. His raiment was as immaculate as ever, but the tone of it was pink this morning.
"Hello, boys," shouted Burton as he approached. "Ready, I see. Now," as he pulled himself up on the rocks, "I want to see what you've accomplished since I saw you. In with you, Frank."
Frank plunged into the water and swam a little distance, using the crawl stroke to the best of his ability, while Burton observed him closely.
"'Tisn't quite right. Look," and the coachdived off the rock and shot over to Frank. "You ought to bring your hand clear out of the water. Don't reach too far and don't let it go too deep; just like a paddle, you remember. Your leg kick is good. Get your arms right and there will be nothing to it."
Frank tried to follow the instructions as well as he could, and his efforts pleased his instructor, who shouted from his perch on the rock to which he had returned: "Fine, fine, that's the way; now only one breath to half a dozen strokes; you waste too much time breathing."
"Same as me," commented the Codfish from his perch.
Frank finished his lesson, and Jimmy and Lewis were sent in for some instruction. Burton began to call for the crawl stroke, but both boys confessed they had never been able to learn it very well. They disliked burying their faces in the water, and so got along much better with the old overhand and breast strokes.
Burton tried to show them just how it was done, and was in the water and out of it half a dozen times coaching, but neither of the swimmers caught the idea.
"Well, never mind, let it go to-day and swimme a hundred yards, the three of you. Frank, you take the crawl, and let the other two use what they want to. Get ready, go!"
The boys splashed into the water each in his different way, Frank easy and graceful, Jimmy determined but rather clumsy, and Lewis like a walrus.
"See how Frank pulls away from them," said Burton, now left alone with the Codfish. "That boy is a wonder in the water. Why, they're not any match for him at all, and only last year both of them could beat him. That's what comes of sticking to a thing. Frank was determined to learn that stroke and he got it. The others thought there was nothing in it and didn't try hard."
The swimmers reached the other side of the little rocky inlet and were heading back towards the starting point, with Frank well in the lead, but he slowed up and finished easily, while the others pulled themselves up on the rocks almost exhausted.
"We're no match for Frank at all," said Jimmy, puffing. "He has a motor attached to him somewhere."
"It is the motor of perseverance, my son," saidBurton. "You would do better in a long race, I think. Did you ever swim an eighth of a mile—the 220 yards?"
"Yes, but not in a race," answered Jimmy.
"You'll be as good as any of the rest of them at the distance, so I'll put you down for the 220 race. And Lewis, we'll put him in for the plunge."
"What's that?" said Lewis.
"Just like this," and suiting the action to the word Burton sprang from his rock, put his hands before him as he flew through the air, struck the water cleanly as a knife, and after disappearing a moment from view came to the top floating. His body traveled rapidly forward in a straight line, arms and legs held rigidly extended and the face buried. Fifty feet from the rock, when his momentum had about ended, he turned over on his back and raced back to the starting point. "That's the way you do it," he said, as he climbed up, shaking the water out of his hair. "Let's see you try it, Lewis."
"It's easy," said Lewis, and took the dive. He landed flat as a pancake, nearly knocking all the breath out of his body, stretched out his arms and legs, as he had seen Burton do, but didn'tmove five feet from the point where he struck the water. After lying on his face and imagining himself traveling forward, he looked up, disgusted, to note what little progress he had made, only to see his companions howling with laughter.
"Isn't so easy as it looks, is it?" said Burton. "But keep at it." He illustrated again, and Lewis, after one or two attempts, readily caught the idea. As there was no work to the job of plunging, he took a fancy to it, and before the morning's coaching was over was doing pretty well.
"There," said Burton finally, jumping up, "that's all the time I can give you this morning. All of you work every morning, but don't do too much. You have a week before the meet comes off. See you later."
"Can't we come a little way with you?" said Frank.
"Sure, glad to have you," and Frank and Jimmy took the water with Burton. They headed out clear of the rocks and turned down the shore at a distance of perhaps a hundred yards from land. Lewis and the Codfish walked leisurely down the sand, watching the three heads as they bobbed along in the waves.
"You ought to take every chance you can get," said Burton, as the three swam easily side by side, "to swim longer distances. There's no telling how handy it might come in, supposing you were pitched off a boat some day. The way to do, is to take it easy like we are now and use all your strokes. When you get tired with one, take another. That change rests you almost as much as stopping. Use one arm over first, and then another," illustrating as he went along, "and if you get very tired, turn over on your back and float a while with your hands well over your head like this." Again he illustrated.
The three swam on for two or three hundred yards, the boys drinking in the instruction of the expert and trying to put into practice all that he was telling them. Little did they think that they would need all and more than they were able to show in the way of strength and endurance in a short time.
"Well, good-by, boys; I've got to make time now," shouted Burton. "Maybe I'll see you before the meet, but if I don't, remember it is Thursday week at four o'clock. Be sure to come," and he was gone in a cloud of spray kicked upby his arms and legs as he started on his long swim down the shore.
"Good-by," echoed both boys, and with quickened pace they drew toward the shore and soon joined Lewis and the Codfish.
Business still held good, and less than two weeks after the Queen's Ferry began its traffic there was money enough in the treasury to pay all running expenses and leave enough for the first installment of fifty dollars for Mr. Simpkins.
"It isn't due until the end of the summer," said Frank, "but we might as well pay it, and there's five dollars over for Captain Silas. That's for the idea."
"And please, sir, where does the crew come in?" inquired the Codfish.
The boys were all seated on the veranda of the Armstrong home. After dinner, with paper and pencil they had gone over their daily earnings, with the result that the decision to pay up had been made. All voted unanimously.
"Oh, you will get your reward by and by. Isn'tit enough to have such company as ours without pay?" queried Lewis.
"Say, Codfish," said Jimmy, "that poster of yours was a dandy." He referred to the one that the Codfish had spent the greater part of the day before preparing, and it was the announcement of the special excursion to Turner's Point on Thursday. The Codfish had put his best efforts on the work, and, like the others that had preceded it, it was embellished with drawings illustrating the coming carnival.
"Codfish is a genius and no mistake," laughed Frank. "This outfit wouldn't be anywhere without him, and when the season is over we will vote him double pay."
"I was brought here under false pretenses," said that individual in what he tried to make an aggrieved tone. "Your telegram said: 'No work, big pay,' and since I arrived I've done nothing but work and haven't seen a red cent."
"Just a telegraph operator's mistake, I guess," said Frank. "Perhaps we wired you 'Big work, no pay'—wasn't that it, Jimmy?"
"Sure it was—something like that. But the Codfish enjoys working for love. He has too much money already; he said so himself."
"What time does your excursion start to-morrow?" inquired Mrs. Armstrong.
"Three o'clock, sharp," was Frank's answer. "We take a holiday to-morrow so as to be ready for the big meet."
"Do you suppose you could take mother and me along if we pay regular fare?" inquired Mr. Armstrong, stepping up behind them.
"Pay nothing," said Jimmy and the boys in a breath. "We'll take you as a super-cargo."
"I'm afraid of your speedy boat," said Mrs. Armstrong. "John, we will ride down on the trolley car."
"Do come with us, mum; we will take care of you, and it will be more fun than a trolley. It's nearly a mile down there, and besides you will have a great place to watch from the boat. Come along," Frank pleaded.
The result was that Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong agreed to go down to the Point in theBlack Duck. That night all turned in early, but Frank's slumbers were broken by dreams of the black head of a swimmer that he could not quite overtake bobbing along in front of him. The head looked singularly like that of his old rival Peters.
At three o'clock next day Frank had the greathonor of assisting his mother and father to their places in theBlack Duck. Captain Silas had already started off with his boat loaded to the gunwale with people from Seawall whose destination was the water carnival at Turner's Point, and, thanks to the wonderful and enticing posters that the Codfish had prepared, there were twice as many people on the dock to go down in the motor boat as could be accommodated.
"Show your business instincts, Frank; give up the swim this afternoon and make a double trip to the Point. I hate to see the Queen's Ferry lose so many good dollars. Peters will lick you, anyway," said the Codfish.
"He will, like a duck," retorted Jimmy, who for once thought that the Codfish was in earnest.
"No," said Frank, "this is a holiday. We made our first payment this morning and there are other days to work in. This is an outing."
When theBlack Duckarrived at Turner's Point the whole place was alive with color and movement. Scores of rowboats were drawn up alongside the hundred-yard course that had been laid out by Burton, between two floats. Sailboats with their mainsails down and jibs stowed, lay at anchor a little farther away. Crowds of the peopleof the Point were on the water front and all was expectancy. Frank edged his boat in toward the public float and discharged his passengers.
"Mother, there are so many boats here that I think you and father better come and sit in the stand, where you can have a better view. We will make fast theBlack Duckhere."
"It would be better," said Mr. Armstrong. So the party threaded their way to the stand, which was built on the long pier, and took places there.
"Now, since you are all comfy," said Frank, "I'll be off and see when my race comes. I may not be back again. Don't get excited and fall off, mother," he warned. And he darted away. "Good luck to you, son," his father called after him. He turned and waved his hand, and hurried along to the dressing room.
Like all water carnivals, the first events were of minor character. A sack race in which the swimmers were encased in a bag up to the waist caused endless mirth as, hampered by the bag which did not allow them the use of their legs, they floundered along, struggling and splashing. Then came an obstacle race in which the swimmers had to climb over obstacles placed in the course. Some did not try to climb, but divedunderneath, and were declared out of the race for fouling. Others attempted to climb and fell back into the water with a splash.
Then came the first real trial of skill, the preliminaries of the hundred-yard race. There were so many entries that three heats had to be run off, four in a heat, the first two to qualify. Peters was drawn for the first trial, Frank noticed. He watched his rival keenly as the first four took the water, and saw with a little sinking of the heart that the tall, slender Peters was far and away better than his competitors. He swam a powerful trudgeon stroke, which carried him rapidly and easily. Peters did not spurt. He did not have to, but finished easily in the lead of his nearest competitor by ten feet; and, instead of getting upon the float at the far end of the course, just to show that he was not exhausted he swung around and came back at even a faster clip than he had held in the race. As he pulled himself up on the float, he gave Frank a glance from under his heavy brows, but did not show that he recognized him.
"That's the lad for my money," observed a bystander. "Did you see how easy he won that trial?"
"He's the best here, I guess," said a companion. "There's a fellow here called Armstrong, but I don't think he has any business with Peters. That fellow's a cracker-jack," and they both gazed after the lad with admiration. Frank heard, but said nothing. His friends were with him, Jimmy in a natty bathing suit, Lewis still in his regular street clothes, for the plunge did not come till later, and the Codfish in immaculate flannels with flowing blue tie and socks to match.
In a minute the next four were sent off in a nip-and-tuck race, at the end of which the announcer bawled out:
"Second trial goes to Hatch, with Burley second!" Hatch also swam back to the float, as had Peters, and was helped out by the latter, who complimented him on his winning the trial. Frank noticed that the two swimmers, as they walked to the dressing room, cast a glance in his direction. They were speaking in low tones.
"They're great pals, those two," said one of the nearby spectators.
"And they're hatching up something for you, Frank," said Jimmy in a whisper. "I don't like the looks of either of them."
"Guess not," returned Frank. "Here we go," he added as the third trial was called.
"Take it easy," admonished Burton, as Frank balanced on the edge of the float and waited for the signal to go.
"Bang!" went the pistol. Frank was rather slow in getting off, while his three competitors were almost ahead of the pistol. One of them did indeed beat the pistol, but as he dropped back before the first fifty yards had been covered, no attention was paid to the incident by the referee. Swimming easily, Frank was within touching distance of the leading man twenty-five yards from the finish line. But he did not exert himself very much. He let the leader work hard, being satisfied with second place, which was just as good as first, for both first and second qualified to enter the finals.
When it was announced that Bates had won the heat with Armstrong second, there was a great commotion among the members of the Armstrong family on the stand. "Oh, dear, wasn't it too bad that Frank couldn't win?" said Mrs. Armstrong, disappointment on every line of her face.
Her husband chuckled. "Don't be worried, Sarah, that's only a preliminary. Second placegives him a chance to swim in the final trial." Mrs. Armstrong was comforted. "He was saving himself, I think," said the father.
Frank swam the few yards to the shore and walked slowly down the beach. He was met by Codfish and Lewis, who excitedly inquired why he didn't take first place. Frank only smiled. "What did you want me to do," he said; "tire myself out?"
"He did exactly right," said the astute Codfish. "His real race is coming with Peters a little later."
Meantime the exhibition of high diving had begun from a tower built on the outer edge of the pier, with platforms jutting out every ten feet up to the height of forty-five feet, the lowest one being five feet above the water. From these varying platforms an expert gave a series of dazzling evolutions—somersaults, back dives, swan dives, and finally a double somersault from the very top platform, which made the ladies scream with apprehension. But the diver struck the water like an arrow and bobbed up instantly, waving a joyful hand to the crowd.
As soon as the diving was over the 220 race was called, with six entries, among them Jimmy.At the outset he lagged behind and seemed to be hopelessly out of the race, but, urged on by the cries of his Seawall friends, he got his second wind when half the distance was over and began to pull up on the leaders. One by one he overtook and passed them until only one was left ahead of him. For the last twenty yards it was a scramble between these two, but Jimmy's hand shot out and touched the float a fraction of a second ahead.
During the excitement that followed on the float, a boat was rowed rapidly over from the side of the course, containing among others a stout lady, who wore an enormous picture hat. Even at a distance it could be seen that she was rather clumsy looking. Her hands were covered by coarse cotton gloves and her face was concealed by a white veil. Evidently it was the intention of the rowers to land her on the swimmers' float. In a moment the rowboat drew alongside the float.
Every one was watching the strange maneuvers of the boat and laughing at its queer occupant as it drew up to the float. There was much wondering as to what the lady could want. As the boat touched the edge of the float she stood up awkwardly and put one foot on the float, pushing with the other one in the boat to help herselfup. Of course, you all know what happened. The boat, instead of giving her the support she desired, shot away with her vigorous push. The queer woman lost her balance, toppled over backward, fell with a resounding crash into the water and sank, cotton gloves and all.
Immediately there was a cry from the spectators, and Lewis, who happened to be standing nearest, without thought of his clothes, went over after her like a hero. Almost immediately he appeared clutching something desperately. It was the skirt of the drowning woman. How he pulled to save her from a watery grave! But he pulled too savagely, for the skirt was left in his hands, and the woman sank like a stone. Then the feather on that gorgeous picture hat came into view. Lewis grabbed at the hat. That, too, came away in his hand, and he threw it on the float, debating with himself whether or not he would go to the bottom after her, as Frank had dived a few days before for the drowning girl. He thought it strange that no one of all those swimmers came to help him, but he had been trying so desperately to do his duty that he had not looked up. A roar of laughter now caused him to look, and to his amazement every one on thefloat was convulsed, holding their sides and swaying back and forth.
Just then, right alongside him, bobbed up the round and smiling face of Bunny Taylor, the fattest boy of the Point. A bedraggled wig of long hair floated out behind him and one cotton-gloved hand grabbed the side of the float. Then the truth dawned on Lewis. He had been the victim of a hoax. It wasn't a woman at all who had fallen overboard. He climbed out of the water and dashed for the dressing room while the crowd laughed and shouted.
"Poor old Lewis," said Frank, chasing after him. "It was too bad you were so near. That is one of the regular tricks at a water carnival. Some one made up as a woman falls overboard, and sometimes an innocent and unsuspecting bystander, not on the inside, jumps in and rescues the drowning 'lady.' It's hard luck that it was you."
Lewis was almost in tears. "I certainly must have looked like a goat, jumping in after that galoot."
"You were a hero," said the Codfish, who had followed, "a real out-and-out first-class hero. If she hadn't been the most elusive woman in theworld, you would have saved her for sure. But it's always safer to grab them by the neck than by the skirt; always remember that, Lewis."
"Oh, shut up," said Lewis, still ruffled. "I only wish it had been you, you walking advertisement for a gents' furnishing store!"
"I tell you what you can do to even up with this crowd—go out and win the plunge," said Frank, comforting him. "You can do it, and then they won't have the laugh on you. Hurry up, there's the first call for the event."
Lewis got out of his wet street clothes, put on his water costume and walked rather sheepishly out on the float. There he was greeted with such a storm of cheers and hand-clapping that he forgot his chagrin and fell into a better humor—so good a humor, indeed, that he went determinedly at the work in hand and won the event by a clean five feet from the best plunger that Turner's Point could offer.
"Bully boy," said Burton, as Lewis passed him on the float, headed for the dressing room. "You turned the tables on them." Whereat Lewis grinned more broadly than ever.
The great event of the day, the finals of the hundred yards' swim, was reserved for the last. All the other events were over and every one was looking eagerly forward to the trial of speed between Frank Armstrong and Peters, for every one who had watched the early heats in this event knew that it lay between these two for first place. It was Seawall against the Point, or even more than that, for Peters was one of the best swimmers at the school he attended in New York City. It was then Seawall against the country! No wonder excitement ran high.
"All ready for the finals in the hundred yards' swim," shouted the referee through his megaphone. Out of their dressing rooms ran the six swimmers and lined up on the edge of the float. There was much craning of necks in the stand and everywhere to get a good look at the contestants.
"My money on Peters," said the individual who had proclaimed himself earlier in the day. "He'll show your Seawall champion the way."
"He'll show him the way to lose, maybe," said the Codfish. "They can't beat that boy Armstrong." Every one was taking sides as to the outcome, while the referee was stationing the six young athletes on the float edge. Little time was lost in preliminaries.
"Are you ready?" queried the high-pitched voice of the referee.
"Get set!"
"Crack!" went the pistol, and as if shot from a cannon the six hit the water together. Peters with a longer spring immediately shot out in front of the bunch, his arms flying like flails and his long legs beating the water rhythmically.
"Hurrah, see Peters go! He'll win easily," cried the friends of the New Yorker.
"Wait a minute; the race is just beginning," said another. "Wait till Armstrong strikes his gait. There, see him go up!"
Frank was indeed gaining. In none of his races was he ever able to get under way fast at first, but he could always quicken up when he had been going for a few seconds. This was whathappened now. Slowly but surely he drew up on Peters and Bates, the friend of Peters, who had won the heat from Frank. At the half distance, he had shaken off three competitors and was closing on the fourth. Slowly he gained, when suddenly Bates, just ahead of him, swerved from his course. Frank looked up just in time to prevent running into him, but he was obliged to change his direction a trifle in order to pass. The swerve lost him ground, for Peters at this moment seemed to put on a fresh burst of speed.
Over the last twenty yards the race was a terrific one, the partisans of both sides yelling like mad for their favorites. On the boys came like whirlwinds. The water churned up into spray as they smashed through it. Thirty feet from the float Frank took his last look and his last gulp of air for that race, then, burying his head, he put every pound of strength he had left into driving himself forward. He was now so close to Peters that he could feel the eddy of water from his hand as it swept backward. Ten feet from the float, he fairly threw himself out of the water. He was alongside the leader now, and next thing he knew he crashed full tilt into the float. He raised his head to hear the shout:
"Peters wins! Peters wins!"
It was true Frank had touched only a fraction of a second too late. It was Peter's race. Frank dropped off the float and swam back slowly, all but exhausted.
Jimmy was at the starting float, and as he lent the tired racer a hand to mount to the planks, his face was white with rage.
"Wasn't good enough, was I?" gasped Frank.
"Good enough!" yelled Jimmy; "of course you were. That chump who was swimming behind Peters got in your way. I saw him cut across and block you."
"I don't think so," said Frank; "he was all in and didn't do it on purpose."
"I know better than that, and I'd swear it was a put-up job. You can beat Peters any day from ten yards to a million miles," said the indignant Jimmy. "I kicked to the referee about it, but he wouldn't allow a foul because Bates didn't touch you. Did he?"
"No," said Frank; "I had to shift a little for him and it put me out a bit. I don't think it made any difference in the race. Peters was too fast for me."
"Get out," said Jimmy, still hot and angry;"you know he isn't. I'd bet my boots you could beat him any day, and if I were you, I'd challenge him for a race with no one around to get in your way."
"I've had enough for to-day," said Frank. "We ought to get dressed and headed for home as soon as we can. There are some black clouds coming up over there in the west."
It was as Frank said. The day had been a warm one and thunder heads were now showing in the west. Down toward the horizon the clouds were piled thick and black, and every now and then the denser masses were edged by a little ribbon of fire. The lightning was beginning to play. The top of the pile was still white, for the lowering sun was shining full upon it; but soon this white top, climbing rapidly, shut off the sun.
The wind had just begun to pick up in puffs and eddies and the sailboats were scudding about like anxious swallows, when Mr. Armstrong hurried up to the dressing room where Frank was getting into his clothes. "Mother and I have a chance to go back on the trolley. Hurry up, son," he said. "It looks so bad over there to the west," jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the towering thunder-heads, "that I thinkyou had better wait till the storm is over. Mother is nervous about your going to Seawall in theBlack Duck."
"Oh, I guess we could get home all right," said Frank. "It isn't going to be very heavy, is it?"
For answer there came a blinding flash, and almost on its heels a roar of thunder that made the bathing houses dance on their foundations. The wind was running before the storm with almost hurricane force, lashing the sea into whitecaps.
"Gee whiz!" exclaimed Jimmy, "that must have hit somewhere nearby. See the oldBlack Duckjumping."
TheBlack Duckwas indeed jumping, even though she was bound securely and lay partly in the lee of the dock. The wind and the rain came together, scattering the stragglers on the walks to places of shelter. In a few minutes the sea was beaten white and high waves sprang up like magic, their tops white-capped by the fierce drive of the gale.
"It is so heavy it can't last," said the Codfish, gingerly side-stepping a rivulet of water that broke through the shelter of the boys. "Just likea chap who goes too hard at the first of his race—can't stick it out," he added sagely.
But this particular storm did stick it out for some time. After an hour, however, the wind dropped almost as suddenly as it had sprung up, the thunder muttered itself out, and the sea began to go down. Lacking the pressure of the gale behind it, the whitecaps soon disappeared, but in their place ran a long swell, down which the little sailboats at anchor coasted and rose again to the next, like some kind of a seabird.
"We will have a tippy time of it going home," observed the Codfish, as in the last few sprinkling drops the boys sought the wharf.
"Yes, and we aren't going to have much company, I guess," said Frank.
"Their pedal extremities have congealed, evidently," observed the Codfish. "Here comes your father to say, 'No, thank you, Frank, we will go up on the trolley to-night; we don't care for coasting.'" The boys laughed. For that was just about what Mr. Armstrong had come to repeat. "And I guess the others of your excursion are going back the same way," he added. "I saw the Slocums light out for Seawall in an automobile five minutes ago."
"I'll wait a little while," said Frank, "for my party, and then if they don't come I'll dig out for home, too."
"I wouldn't wait too long," was his father's parting observation as he turned to go. "Mother says she wishes you would leave the boat down here to-night and come for it in the morning. How about it?"
"Oh, there's no danger. We'll be home in a jiffy. The tide is low and I'll have to go outside of Pumpkin Island to avoid the reef. Don't worry about us. The four of us could take her to New York to-night. Couldn't we, Jimmy?"
"Sure thing," said that individual, who rather enjoyed the prospects of the trip up. Lewis and the Codfish were not so hopeful, but they said they would stand by the ship. Mr. Armstrong turned again and left the boys with a last warning word.
"Where did the Human Fish, Peters, go to?" inquired the Codfish, as Jimmy fussed with the motor and Frank sponged off the seats. Very little water had entered the boat, most of it having been shed by the very efficient awning which covered her from bow to stern.
"Don't know," said Frank. "I wasn't interestedin him after I saw that he hit the float first."
"Oh," said Lewis, "I saw him jump into his motor boat with that chap who got in your way, just as soon as the race was over, and light out. Guess they were trying to get down to the Peters' dock before the storm came on so hard."
"He had good nerve, starting then," said Jimmy.
"Or bad judgment," said the Codfish. "Sometimes the one looks like the other."
"Here, stop getting sarcastic and help with these ropes," growled Frank. "They are all in hard knots. What Indian tied them like this?"
Soon they freed themselves and the motor, under slow speed, began to revolve. They backed slowly out from the dock. Nothing was left of the gay scene of an hour or two before.
"Funny what a little water will do," observed the Codfish, turning to look at the deserted stand, pier and floats.
"Yes, and it's funny what a little wind will do to water," commented Frank as theBlack Duckgot under way. He was driving her over the waves at a little angle and she pitched and rolled tremendously.
The Codfish didn't like it at all, and Lewis, after five minutes of this kind of going, began to look white in the failing light.
Frank headed his craft well out beyond the Pumpkin to avoid the treacherous rock teeth that showed white in a long broken line. He had a great respect for their destroying abilities. The tide, too, was on the turn, and he dreaded getting caught in the suck of it. Many boats had met disaster there. So he headed her straight out into the bay, so straight indeed that the Codfish finally cried out:
"Where in thunder are you heading for—France, or is it Spain?"
"Don't be impatient," said the captain, "we'll turn in a minute."
He had hardly spoken the words when the motor began to miss fire. Instead of the steady hum of the exhaust, it was now an irregular chattering. The boat checked materially as the pistons choked in the dead cylinders. Frank threw on more gas and for a minute or two the engine picked up and resumed its regularity. Then it missed, sputtered, choked, gave one or two expiring explosions and died completely.
"Well, this is a nice mess you've got us into,isn't it?" whimpered Lewis. There was a note of grave anxiety in his voice. "I didn't want to come, but I thought you knew all about your old boat."
"What's the matter, Old Mother Goose?" cried the Codfish whimsically. "We're not dead yet. Keep your lip stiff. Frank will have it fixed in a minute."
Frank was working over the batteries with a face on which worriment showed in spite of himself. He gave the battery box a shake, tightened up the connections and cranked the motor. There were half a dozen explosions and silence fell again, broken only by the lapping of the running tide against theBlack Duck'ssides. Hastily he disconnected the wires and tried for a spark on the individual batteries. Then he connected the batteries in series, and tried again. There was a faint flash, very different from the long, hot spark from full batteries.
Frank dropped the terminals and looked up into the faces of the three boys, who were intently watching him.
"What's the matter?" inquired Jimmy. "Batteries?"
"Just that and nothing else. There isn'tenough juice in the whole lot of them to light a grain of powder."
"Nice pickle we're in," grumbled Lewis. "Isn't it up to the captain to have his batteries all right?"
"Oh, shut up," commanded Jimmy. "It isn't Frank's fault that the old batteries are in trouble."
"No," said Frank; "I renewed them, you remember, only day before yesterday—six brand new ones, at twenty-five cents per. The rain must have got in somehow and short-circuited them. The shaking by the motor gave them life enough to carry us out here and then they died. See, there isn't a bit left." He tried again, rubbing the ends of the terminals together, but for all the result in the way of ignition they might as well have been made of wood.
"Well, never mind," said Jimmy, "we're drifting the right way. Look at us go! That's Seawall over there, and while we are going sideways, like a crab, we may fetch up all right."
"Sure thing," said Frank, "we are going sideways and fast, too. The tide here runs like a mill-race, but night is coming faster than we aregoing, and it's going to be as black as your shoes in ten minutes."
"That's an encouraging sign," said the Codfish, "for my shoes are yellow, and I don't mind yellow nights in the least." The Codfish was always cheerful under difficulties.
Not so Lewis. He grumbled and growled and blamed everybody for the plight in which they found themselves. "If I don't turn up by dark, mother will have a fit," he added.
"Well, I guess all our mothers will have fits," observed Frank quietly, "but that isn't going to help us out of this trouble."
"Do you know how the drift of this tide goes?" inquired the Codfish. "It might sweep us in shore far enough so that one of you fish-men could jump overboard and swim ashore for help."
"Yes, that's a good scheme. Owing to the curve of the Seawall shore we are now about a mile out. The current splits on Flat Rock, which ought to be showing pretty soon if we have light enough. If we have luck to swing over to the shore side of the rock we will drift pretty close, but if we go on the outside of it we are likely to go on up the coast or out to sea."
"Fine mess we're in," growled Lewis, whogrew more nervous as the night drew down over the waters.
"Oh, say something new," snapped the Codfish sharply. "We've heard that for a long time. Can't you think up an original remark?" Lewis glowered in silence, muttering to himself. Jimmy sat down on the bottom of the boat and began to tinker with the batteries, while Frank and the Codfish stood up and peered into the gathering darkness.
"Listen, what was that?" whispered Frank. "Didn't you hear some one calling?"
The four huddled together close. Jimmy left his tinkering and Lewis forgot his hard luck for the moment.
The four boys stood in the waist of the boat straining their ears for a repetition of the sound that had floated out over the black waters.
"There it is again," whispered Frank. "It seems to be dead ahead." Again they held their breaths and listened.
"Help, help," came a faint voice. There was no mistaking it this time.
"Some one in trouble, and worse off than we are," said the Codfish.
"There it is, louder."
"Hello! Hello! Help! Help!" came floating to their ears.
"Some one drowning out there," said Lewis, shivering.
Again rose the cry, this time shriller and stronger.
"I believe it is some one on Flat Rock," said Frank. "I can't see, but the rock ought to bejust ahead of us. What can any one be doing there? Flat Rock is all under water at high tide. That would be a bad fix, for certain sure."
"Let's give a call," added Frank. The boys, uniting their voices, shouted: "What's the matter? Who is it?"
Quite near now came the hail: "We are wrecked on a big rock here. Come and help us. The tide's coming up and we'll be washed off. Please hurry!" The voice dwindled off into nothing as if the speaker was in deadly fear and had no breath to state his troubles further.
"Jiminy crickets!" said Jimmy. "We are not in much of a way to help any one, but we've got to do something for that fellow. Give me the painter. I can see the outline of the rock. Let me take the rope and I'll jump overboard and tow her. You handle the rudder, Frank."
Frank was about to object to this arrangement, preferring to take the cold bath himself, when Jimmy grabbed the rope's end and dived overboard. He struck out for the rock, which was outlined by a line of white where the running tide fringed its edge.
The boys on the boat watched anxiously as he ploughed along. It was a small pull at best thathe could give theBlack Duck, but as both were going with the current, the pull that he did give was sufficient to guide the craft in the direction of the dark mass just ahead.
"Look out, Frank, I'm touching," shouted Jimmy over his shoulder. "Pull your rudder sharp over to starboard."
Frank did as he was bid and the nose of theBlack Duckbarely grazed a big black boulder just awash.
"There, keep her steady," Jimmy commanded. "Let the tide carry her up and I'll pull her around into this little cove."
"She'll bump, won't she?" queried Frank anxiously.
"No, it looks like deep water there just behind that rock you missed, and the pull of the tide won't bother much. I'll hitch this painter here."
Jimmy finished his work and straightened up, peering into the darkness, from which came a plaintive voice:
"Please hurry up! The tide's coming in and we'll be washed off. Please come quick."
"How many are there of you?" Frank sang out.
"Two of us. We were knocked up here by thethunder storm and the boat is stove in. Hurry, hurry, won't you? The tide is rising."
"Why doesn't he come down to us, whoever he is?" said the Codfish.
"There's a channel of water between this rock we are on," said Jimmy, who was in a little better position to see, "and the place where those fellows are wrecked, and it's running like mad. Can't you hear it boil?"
It was as he said. The rock seemed to be in two sections, separated by a channel perhaps fifty feet wide, which looked black and threatening in the half gloom. Jimmy began climbing over the slippery footing in the direction of the channel.
"Hold on there," shouted Frank, "I'm going with you. You mustn't go there alone."
"Oh, don't leave us here," wailed Lewis.
"What, with me to protect you?" cried the Codfish scornfully.
"Nothing will happen to you, you big baby," said Frank, as he began to strip off his clothes. "I'm not going to let Jimmy tackle that job alone. Wait for me, Jimmy; I'll be with you in a minute." He was stripped in a minute and lowered himself carefully over the side. With the water up to his waist, he found footing on the rock andedged his way carefully out to where Jimmy stood.
Meantime the pleading voice on the other side of the channel kept calling for the rescuers to make haste. It was filled with a deadly anxiety, as well it might be, for the tide was pouring in from the sea with full power, gushing and eddying among the nooks and crannies of the big rock which obstructed its path. It sounded strangely like a low hum of voices and had a sinister and threatening tone, like the tone of a mob.
"I don't like the look of this channel a little bit," said Jimmy as he and Frank worked their careful way across the slimy rock, occasionally slipping and grabbing each other for support. Now they reached the edge of the swiftly running channel.
"Nothing to do but try it," said Frank. "If these shipwrecked people can't swim, we will be as badly off as ever. Come on, here goes."
Frank waded out to his waist in the swift current. The water tugged and pulled at him as if bent on destroying him. Suddenly he found himself beyond his depth and began to swim. Jimmy was at his elbow. The water caught them withits full force and whirled them along. But in spite of the current they made progress across it, and puffing and panting they pulled up on a shelving part of the main body of the rock, and staggered to their feet.
The shipwrecked boys, seeing their rescuers at hand, rushed down to them shouting for joy, but the leader of the two staggered back as he came face to face with Frank.
"Frank Armstrong!" he gasped.
"Peters!" cried Frank and Jimmy in a breath. "Great Scott!" said the former, "we didn't know it was you."
"Please don't go away and leave me," whined Peters. "We're in an awful fix."
"We don't intend to go and leave you, but we are in a bad fix ourselves."
"Please take us off here," continued Peters. There were tears in his voice.
"We have a boat," said Jimmy, "on the other side of that channel, but our motor is dead. The only thing we can do is to take you aboard her and wait till morning, or till some search party comes out for us."
At this Peters sank down on the rock and covered his face with his hand. "I can't swim thatchannel," he cried. "I don't dare try it. It serves me right. I put up a game to beat you this afternoon and was so ashamed of it afterward that I didn't stay a minute, but jumped into my boat and put out for home——"
"And were caught in the storm?" interrupted Frank.
"Yes. The wind kicked up such a sea that I couldn't cross it and had to run ahead of it. I tried to get around in the lee of this rock, but the wind drove me onto a ledge out there and knocked a hole in the bottom of the boat, and she sank."
"And you swam here?"
"Yes, we were barely able to make it. We crawled up here and laid down till the storm went over. We've been here yelling ever since."
"The storm drove every one in, so there wasn't much chance of your being heard. The wind, blowing in the direction it did, carried your voices out to sea. We barely heard you, although we were quite near," said Frank.
"You were awfully good to come to us. I'm sorry I played such a dirty trick on you. Will you forgive me?" and Peters held out his hand.
"That's all right, Peters," said Frank, graspingthe outstretched hand. "Forget about it. You could probably have beaten me, anyway."
"No, I couldn't," said the repentant Peters. "I hated you for winning last year and I wanted to make sure you wouldn't this year. Oh, I'm ashamed of myself," and Peters hung his head. "I don't want the prize for that race, and I won't take it."
"Come, never mind, we'll race again some day on even terms," said Frank, "but the main business now is to get over to the other side of this channel and get into the boat. We have no power, but we have a bottom under us, and it won't do us any harm to sleep out for one night, I guess."
"It will be a kind of a lark," said Jimmy, but his voice didn't have much enthusiasm in it.
"The only thing that is bothering me," said Frank, "is what mother and father will think, and your mother and father, and Lewis's. They will be crazy thinking that some trouble has come to us."
"Say," said Peters, who, now that he had confessed his sins, took on a brighter mind, "isn't there something in your boat we might pull out and set afire as a kind of a signal? I've no doubtthat there are people watching over there on the shore. Couldn't we try it?"
"That's a good idea, Peters," exclaimed Jimmy. "We could yank out some of the boards from the cabin, put a little gasoline on them and have a bonfire here. That would show them on shore where we are and some one could pick us up in a jiffy."
"Good!" said Frank. "We'll do it. It will save a lot of worry for our people if they know we are not drowned. Let's get back and try it." So saying, he turned and made his way down to the edge of the channel which separated them from the boat. The three boys followed him cautiously. It was almost pitch dark now, and the water looked more forbidding than ever.
"I'll lead off," said Frank, "and you fellows follow me. Keep as close in line as you can and look out for the sunken rocks."
Peters was shivering, partly with the cold and partly with terror. It had been a night of peril for him, and he did not have the animal courage of either Frank or Jimmy, or even of Bates, who had scarcely said a word, but followed sullenly behind.
Frank was in the water to his waist now, but suddenly hailed the boat: "Hey, Codfish!"
"Hello," sang out the Codfish.
"We've found them and we're coming back," yelled Frank at the top of his voice, for the wind was beginning to breeze up with the incoming tide. "Have an eye out for us; we'll be with you in five minutes. Come on," he said, turning to the boys behind him, "it's now or never! This channel is getting wider and there's nothing to be gained by waiting." He took another step and began to swim.
The others followed silently. Soon they were gripped by the current and began their fight to the other side. The current was more savage, if anything, than when Jimmy and Frank had crossed it a few minutes before. Desperately they battled with it for their lives.
"I can't make it," groaned Peters from behind. "I can't make it. Help me!"
"Don't give up," shouted Frank encouragingly. "Keep at it, old fellow," and Frank stopped swimming for a moment till Peters drew alongside him. Elbow to elbow the two boys swam, as they had swum but a few hours before in the race, but now it was a battle for life. Frank's encouragingwords buoyed up the New Yorker's drooping spirits.
"Only a few strokes more," he kept repeating. "Stick it out."
Bates swam doggedly behind without a word.
"I'm touching," yelled Jimmy. "I'm touching. We're safe, we're safe!"
The shout put heart into Peters, who drove ahead with all his remaining strength, and soon the four lay panting on a little shelf of rock with more bare rock just in front of them. They were indeed over the worst part of it.
But just as they struggled to safety, there came a tremendous yelling from the direction of the boat.
"Come quick, come quick, we're adrift!" It was the voice of the Codfish. Now Lewis joined in: "Quick, quick, we are adrift!"
Frank and Jimmy sprang to the higher rocks and made for the boat, slipping, stumbling and rolling. They could not in the darkness see where they were going, and in the scramble they bruised their knees and tore their hands. The barnacles cut Frank's bare feet, but he dashed on in the direction of the cries. Jimmy was close on his heels and the others straggled behind, vaguelyaware that some new trouble had come to crown their misfortunes of the night.
What they worst feared from the shouts of the boys on the boat was only too true. In some manner the tugging at the boat of wind and tide had loosened the knot Jimmy had put in the painter, and theBlack Duckwas moving swiftly away from the rock with the two boys aboard, borne on the bosom of the tide. When Frank reached the place where they had left the boat moored, only the dim outline of theBlack Duckwas visible, and in a moment even that was lost to view. For a few minutes the shouts of the Codfish and Lewis could be heard, but soon those, too, died out, except when brought faintly in the lulls of the rising wind.
"There goes our hope of safety," said Frank. "Now wearein a pretty fix, and no mistake."