CHAPTER IV.
IN THE HOUR OF PERIL.
It was a terrible risk running blindly for those islands, but it seemed a still more terrible one to attempt to beat across the black sound.
The five lads in the boat held their breath, strained their eyes, listened.
Around the boat the sea swirled and seethed. It rolled darkly on either hand, and theJolly Sportcut through the water with a hissing sound.
Somehow through the darkness they could see great white bubbles of foam that came up out of the water and winked at them like the eyes of the mighty demons of the deep.
Those blinking eyes filled them with awe and horror. They shuddered and turned sick at heart. Their ears listened for the breaking of the surf on the beach of the islands, a sound which they longed, yet dreaded, to hear.
But all they could hear was the shriek of the wind, the swish of the sea, and the rushing sound of the boat.
“Bail!”
The word came like a pistol shot. It woke them to a realization of the peril that was creeping upon them.
Water was pouring into the boat from her leaks. It was rising around their feet, and theJolly Sportwas beginning to plunge and flounder distressingly.
“Bail!”
Again the word shot from Frank Merriwell’s lips.
They hastened to obey. They scooped the water upwith the bailing dishes, with a sponge, and with their caps; but it came in faster than they could throw it out.
“We’re going down!”
Rattleton uttered the cry.
“Well,” said Browning, in the same old lazy manner, “it does look as if we might have to swim for it pretty soon.”
Diamond and Hodge were silent. Their teeth were set, and they were straining their eyes through the darkness, as if they longed to see something that would give them hope.
A light flashed out, winked, disappeared.
“Lighthouse there!” shouted Rattleton.
“Running straight for it!” cried Diamond.
“Be on a ledge in a minute!” grunted Browning.
Frank shoved over the tiller, and theJolly Sportwent floundering off through the seas, with her course changed somewhat.
“Bail, boys—bail!” Frank again commanded. “It is our only hope. If we can keep afloat five minutes longer——”
The wind tore the words from his lips, with a mocking shriek. He bent his head and gripped the tiller, while the boat wallowed along bravely, seeming like a wounded creature seeking cover as it grew weaker from loss of blood.
The boys worked with all the energy they could command to get the water out as fast as it came in. Bruce Browning did his best. They were chilled to the bone, dripping wet, and sick at heart. Every man of them felt that his chance of being drowned was most excellent.
Swish—bump! the big waves came down on the boat, struck her, piled over her. A score of times it seemed that she was swamped, a score of times she fought her way tothe surface, a score of times prayers of relief were whispered by white lips.
She was not making much headway. The wind was carrying her off helplessly.
Still Frank clung to the tiller, trying to steer and succeeding in a measure, so that he kept her from rolling helplessly broadside to the seas.
“Light again!” cried Diamond, as the flash of fire again gleamed out and disappeared.
Now came a sound that was like the sullen roar of an animal in distress. It was the booming of the surf on shore.
“If I don’t strike the mouth of the cove, we’ll be piled up on a ledge, or high and dry on shore in less than two minutes,” came from Frank’s lips.
They heard him, and they realized they were close upon the islands. The sound of the surf added a feeling of terror to their other sensations, and yet they were thankful they had not missed the Thimbles and been driven out to sea.
Louder and louder came the booming roar of the surf. Through the darkness they seemed to see a white wall of foam that shifted and heaved, leaped and roared.
All the tigers of the deep seemed to be at play along that white line. They saw the boat and its helpless crew. They roared their delight over the coming feast.
But ahead—what was that? A spot where the white line was not dancing and howling. The boat made for that spot.
“Hold fast!”
Frank was not sure it was the mouth of the cove. He could not tell in that dense darkness, but he headed straight toward that spot. They might strike at any moment.
Onward floundered theJolly Sport, making a last gallanteffort to keep afloat. The roaring surf was on either side. The leaping tigers in white were there, gnashing their teeth and howling with impotent rage.
“It’s the cove!” screamed Harry Rattleton. “We’re all right! Hurrah!”
“Hurrah!” cheered Diamond.
Frank said nothing; he knew their peril was not over.
Bart Hodge said nothing; he would not have murmured had they gone down in mid-sound.
Bruce Browning was silent; he was exhausted by his efforts at bailing.
The great waves pursued the fugitive boat into the cove, like wolves in chase of a wounded deer.
All at once a black hulk loomed before them.
“A vessel!” cried Harry.
“Look out!” warned Jack.
With all his strength, Frank pulled over the tiller. The boat obeyed slowly and with reluctance. She could not clear the black hulk entirely.
“Confound them!” muttered Frank. “Why don’t they have a light out? There’s a law for this, and——”
Bump!—theJolly Sportstruck. Scrape!—she slid along the side of the vessel.
It was a marvel she did not go down then and there, but they continued to scrape and slide along the side of the vessel, which was heaving at anchor.
The shock was felt on board the vessel. As the boys looked up there was a faint gleam of light, and a man looked down at them from the rail. He snarled out something at them, but the shrieking wind drowned his words, and they did not understand what he said.
The boat cleared the vessel and went wallowing across the dark waters of the cove.
“Can’t strike steamboat pier,” muttered Frank. “Strike shore beyond. Bound to swim for it.”
Then he called to the others:
“All ready, fellows! Got to swim. We’re all right now, if we stand by each other.”
They knew they would be in the water directly, but they were not scared now, for what was before them was nothing beside what they had escaped.
“Harry, are you ready?” called Frank.
“All ready, Merry,” came back, promptly.
“Ready, Jack?”
“Sure,” answered Diamond’s voice.
“And you, Bruce?”
“I’m too fat to sink, don’t worry about me,” said Browning, with a laugh.
“How about you, Bart?”
No answer.
“Hodge, are you ready?” called Frank.
No answer.
“What’s the matter with him? Why doesn’t he speak?”
“Where is he?” asked Rattleton, excitedly.
“Isn’t he here?”
“No! He is gone!”
“Impossible.”
But it was true; Hodge was not in the boat. He had disappeared in a most remarkable manner, as if he had been dragged from the boat by the grim demons of the deep.
There was no time to think about this most astounding and terrible discovery. They had stopped bailing for a few seconds, but the water had continued to rush in, and now, without so much as one last faint struggle, theJolly Sportfloundered and sank.
“She’s going!” screamed Harry.
“Jump!” cried Frank.
He saw them rise and plunge into the cold water, and then, with some trouble, he cleared the dripping sail thatsought to settle down over his head and drag him under with theJolly Sport.
They were close to the shore, else they could not have escaped even then. They helped each other out, and dragged themselves upon the bank, where they sank down, panting and helpless.
Beyond the mouth of the cove the breakers roared, and now in their clamor there seemed a note of triumph, as if they knew not all of the crew on board theJolly Sporthad escaped.
And the four water-dripping lads who lay upon the shore were too numb for words. But their hearts were torn with grief, even though they had reached solid ground, for one of their number was not with them.
Where was he?
Had he been swept overboard by a wave and carried down without a sound?
It did not seem possible.
Frank was thinking of him. Where, when and how had it happened?
Frank remembered that Bart had been silent all along, but he was sure Hodge had been in the boat when the black schooner so nearly ran them down.
He was in the boat after that. The others remembered that he had helped them bail.
The mystery of his disappearance was appalling. It crushed down upon them all like some mighty weight.
He had helped them bail. Frank kept thinking that over. He understood Bart better than anyone else, and he knew Hodge had realized that theJolly Sportwas overloaded.
Then came a thought to Frank that brought an exclamation from his lips.
“Did he jump overboard purposely?”
That was the question that gave Frank a shock. Herealized that Hodge might have done so. Bart might have felt that his added weight was helping to sink the catboat and that the others would stand a better show of reaching shore if he were gone. Then——
Merry did not like to think of that. He did not like to fancy Hodge slipping overboard to lighten the boat so that the others might have a better chance to reach land.
Still he could not help thinking, and his fancy pictured Bart struggling with the surging waves, trying to keep afloat a few moments, rising on the crest of a wave and straining his eyes through the darkness for one last glimpse of the boat that contained his friends—his friends for whom he had sacrificed his life.
If Bart had done such a thing, Frank was certain he knew why. Merry had done everything in his power for Hodge, and Bart had felt his utter inability to make repayment. Now it was possible he had sacrificed his own life that Frank might possibly be saved.
Such thoughts brought to Merriwell the tenderest emotions.
“Dear, brave fellow!” he whispered.
Then he murmured a prayer, the words being torn from his lips by the furious gale.
Merry seemed to see Hodge feebly battling with the waves, his strength failing him swiftly. He fancied the waves tearing at him, beating upon him, hurling him down.
The last struggle had come and passed, and the cruel, triumphant, deadly sea rolled on.
In the morning they would search for him on yonder shore where the white tigers were dancing and howling. They would walk along the shore, hoping, yet dreading, to see his white face on the sand.
Frank thought of the time he had first met Hodge at Fardale Station. They had met as enemies, and Merryhad struck the proud and haughty lad who was shaking a barefooted urchin, after having kicked the urchin’s dog from the station platform.
Hodge had vowed vengeance, and he had resorted to questionable methods for obtaining it; but in everything he had been beaten by Frank.
Then came the time that Bart had realized the cowardice of his own actions and Merriwell’s nobility. Later they had become friends, roommates, chums. They had fought for each other, and Bart had said more than once that he would die for Frank Merriwell.