CHAPTER XXII—THE RESCUETom hailed the unmistakable signal of distress from the steamerOliviawith energy and hope.“I think I understand why we saw no lights,” he remarked. “The steamer must have driven into the breakers beyond what they call the North Sentinel.”“That must be it,” assented Bill. “Now Tom, get to your lever.”Bill tackled the wheel with renewed vigor and Tom braced up magically. At all events, he reflected, theOliviahad not yet gone down. They would be in time for a rescue. The heavy wind, the pelting rain, the erratic gyrations of the launch, were as nothing to him now. The thought that he might be able to save precious human lives inspired him with courage.A second rocket sailed through the mist-laden air a few minutes later. Bill, in high animal spirits, amid his excitement kept shouting out like a schoolboy driving a bicycle.“Go it! Whoop-la! There’s a dive for you! Beats automobiling!”“Hurrah!” broke in Tom.“She’s there,” echoed Bill.“Yes, theOliviaat last,” cried Tom.Veering slightly to southeast, the launch came in sight of the bobbing ship’s lights. One, a bulkhead reflector, was quite clear and guiding.“Go cautiously now, Bill,” warned our hero.“I’ll give you speed signals,” responded Bill. “One—two, slow up.”“All right.”Tom knew from having visited the Garvey Rocks more than once in the past that they were nearing dangerous waters. Somehow, however, he had confidence in his pilot. Bill was daring, and more than once the keel of theBeulahgrazed some obstruction. But Bill shouted back to Tom each time that he knew his route, and would bring about no disaster through recklessness.They were now so near to the steamer that they could make out her situation quite clearly.“She’s stove in!” declared Bill. “Her fires are out, and there must be a leak. Look at her now, Tom—she’s rolling.”The condition of theOliviawas a precarious one—Tom discerned this at a glance. She had fallen over slightly on one side. The lights on deck showed a number of passengers huddled at a slanting bow, clinging to a cable which had been strung from rail to rail, to prevent them from falling or rolling when a particularly heavy billow would cause the once staunch ship to quiver and topple.Another rocket went up. It was followed by a ringing cheer. The launch, slowing down, came directly into the strong central focus of the bulkhead reflector. Those working about the ship, clinging to this and that as they moved about, paused to stare at the staunch little craft of rescue. The passengers huddled together lost their terror and a babel of excited, hopeful, joyous voices sounded out.“Oh Tom!—Tom!”The young wireless operator thrilled with an emotion he could not analyze. In an instant he recognized the voice of Grace Morgan. Could she have been thinking of him, that the recognition was so prompt; or, despite his unusual garb and the clumsy oilcloth cap, did the powerful reflector glow bring out his features in strong relief?“Ease her!” shouted Bill, and his very soul seemed centered in working the wheel to prevent both collision and retreat.“Throw them a cable!” roared the trumpet tones of the captain of the steamer.Tom caught the coiling end of the rope and secured it, allowing a play of a few feet between the two craft.“Drop the ladder!” came the next order.“The women first!” shouted one of the steamer officers. “Get back, there!”There was light enough for Tom to see a portly, fussy old man press close to the rail, vehemently shouting out that he would sue the steamship company if they did not instantly get him to dry land. He uttered a howl of despair as he was ignominiously bundled out of the way.“I can’t—I won’t, I shall faint!” shrieked a rasping feminine voice, as a staunch sailor was compelled to carry her down the swaying ladder.She wriggled like an eel as Tom grabbed her and forced her into the cabin of the launch, going instantly into hysterics as she landed on a cushioned seat.“There are only eight of the ladies,” called down the captain.“Hold tight, Aunt Bertha,” Tom heard a familiar voice speak steadily.“Oh, dear, I know I shall fall and be drowned!” wailed the second of the rescued passengers, whom Tom was sure must be the aunt in whose charge Grace had started on the present unlucky voyage.[image]“YOU BRAVE GIRL!” CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.“We won’t let you, ma’am,” assured the sailor at the rail. “Be speedy now. There’s more to follow.”The descent of seven of the ladies was accomplished. Tom had not caught a murmur of protest or fear from the plucky little maiden who had waited her turn till the last.A shriek loud and ringing went up from the seventh lady, for just as Tom seized her both of them were nearly hurled into the water. A fearful gust of wind had driven the launch with a crash against the hull of the steamer. The same terrific force gave the steamer a lurch, and she threatened to turn turtle. As she righted, although the ladder was flopping about like a whiplash, Grace sprang past the sailor at the rail, slid one-half the length of the ladder, was swung out, and just caught in Tom’s arms as the captain of the steamer roared out in thunder tones:“Slip the cable, you lubber, or the launch will be crushed!”“You brave girl!” cried Tom irresistibly.“Oh, Tom, can I help?” inquired Grace.“Yes, quiet those in the cabin.”Bill sounded the bell at the wheel and Tom with lightning speed made a dash for the lever. He reversed just as the giant hull of the steamer flung down with crushing force.“Fire! murder! help! police!” yelled the frantic fat old man on deck, as his fond hopes vanished with the receding launch.“Stand by!” shouted the captain of the steamer to Tom. “There’s a dozen passengers left yet.”“There’s room with crowding, if you can get them aboard,” reported Tom.“Life preservers, all!” roared the captain. “One more lurch like that, and she’ll split in two! Lower the men passengers.”“No need,” shouted back Tom just then, as a dazzling light rounded the North Sentinel.“The steam tug!” cried Bill.“That will serve us. We’re all right now,” declared the captain. “Get the women passengers ashore.”With a yell just then a great bulky form came shooting over the side of the steamer. It was the fussy old man. Tom barely managed to grasp something floating behind him, or the suction of the passing tug would have drawn him under the swiftly revolving steam screw.“I’m drowned! I’m dead!” bawled the man, half choked with salt water, as Tom pulled him to the deck of the launch, to find that as many as six life preservers encumbered his bulky form.The steam tug had approached theOlivia, running her length as if to discover the real merits of her situation. Preparing to start the launch into the open sea away from the rocks and then to run direct for Brookville, Tom and Bill for a moment were awed into inactivity as a great shout went up.The steamer again lurched to one side. A loud crash sounded above the howling gale, and theOlivialay a shattered wreck on the rocks.
CHAPTER XXII—THE RESCUETom hailed the unmistakable signal of distress from the steamerOliviawith energy and hope.“I think I understand why we saw no lights,” he remarked. “The steamer must have driven into the breakers beyond what they call the North Sentinel.”“That must be it,” assented Bill. “Now Tom, get to your lever.”Bill tackled the wheel with renewed vigor and Tom braced up magically. At all events, he reflected, theOliviahad not yet gone down. They would be in time for a rescue. The heavy wind, the pelting rain, the erratic gyrations of the launch, were as nothing to him now. The thought that he might be able to save precious human lives inspired him with courage.A second rocket sailed through the mist-laden air a few minutes later. Bill, in high animal spirits, amid his excitement kept shouting out like a schoolboy driving a bicycle.“Go it! Whoop-la! There’s a dive for you! Beats automobiling!”“Hurrah!” broke in Tom.“She’s there,” echoed Bill.“Yes, theOliviaat last,” cried Tom.Veering slightly to southeast, the launch came in sight of the bobbing ship’s lights. One, a bulkhead reflector, was quite clear and guiding.“Go cautiously now, Bill,” warned our hero.“I’ll give you speed signals,” responded Bill. “One—two, slow up.”“All right.”Tom knew from having visited the Garvey Rocks more than once in the past that they were nearing dangerous waters. Somehow, however, he had confidence in his pilot. Bill was daring, and more than once the keel of theBeulahgrazed some obstruction. But Bill shouted back to Tom each time that he knew his route, and would bring about no disaster through recklessness.They were now so near to the steamer that they could make out her situation quite clearly.“She’s stove in!” declared Bill. “Her fires are out, and there must be a leak. Look at her now, Tom—she’s rolling.”The condition of theOliviawas a precarious one—Tom discerned this at a glance. She had fallen over slightly on one side. The lights on deck showed a number of passengers huddled at a slanting bow, clinging to a cable which had been strung from rail to rail, to prevent them from falling or rolling when a particularly heavy billow would cause the once staunch ship to quiver and topple.Another rocket went up. It was followed by a ringing cheer. The launch, slowing down, came directly into the strong central focus of the bulkhead reflector. Those working about the ship, clinging to this and that as they moved about, paused to stare at the staunch little craft of rescue. The passengers huddled together lost their terror and a babel of excited, hopeful, joyous voices sounded out.“Oh Tom!—Tom!”The young wireless operator thrilled with an emotion he could not analyze. In an instant he recognized the voice of Grace Morgan. Could she have been thinking of him, that the recognition was so prompt; or, despite his unusual garb and the clumsy oilcloth cap, did the powerful reflector glow bring out his features in strong relief?“Ease her!” shouted Bill, and his very soul seemed centered in working the wheel to prevent both collision and retreat.“Throw them a cable!” roared the trumpet tones of the captain of the steamer.Tom caught the coiling end of the rope and secured it, allowing a play of a few feet between the two craft.“Drop the ladder!” came the next order.“The women first!” shouted one of the steamer officers. “Get back, there!”There was light enough for Tom to see a portly, fussy old man press close to the rail, vehemently shouting out that he would sue the steamship company if they did not instantly get him to dry land. He uttered a howl of despair as he was ignominiously bundled out of the way.“I can’t—I won’t, I shall faint!” shrieked a rasping feminine voice, as a staunch sailor was compelled to carry her down the swaying ladder.She wriggled like an eel as Tom grabbed her and forced her into the cabin of the launch, going instantly into hysterics as she landed on a cushioned seat.“There are only eight of the ladies,” called down the captain.“Hold tight, Aunt Bertha,” Tom heard a familiar voice speak steadily.“Oh, dear, I know I shall fall and be drowned!” wailed the second of the rescued passengers, whom Tom was sure must be the aunt in whose charge Grace had started on the present unlucky voyage.[image]“YOU BRAVE GIRL!” CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.“We won’t let you, ma’am,” assured the sailor at the rail. “Be speedy now. There’s more to follow.”The descent of seven of the ladies was accomplished. Tom had not caught a murmur of protest or fear from the plucky little maiden who had waited her turn till the last.A shriek loud and ringing went up from the seventh lady, for just as Tom seized her both of them were nearly hurled into the water. A fearful gust of wind had driven the launch with a crash against the hull of the steamer. The same terrific force gave the steamer a lurch, and she threatened to turn turtle. As she righted, although the ladder was flopping about like a whiplash, Grace sprang past the sailor at the rail, slid one-half the length of the ladder, was swung out, and just caught in Tom’s arms as the captain of the steamer roared out in thunder tones:“Slip the cable, you lubber, or the launch will be crushed!”“You brave girl!” cried Tom irresistibly.“Oh, Tom, can I help?” inquired Grace.“Yes, quiet those in the cabin.”Bill sounded the bell at the wheel and Tom with lightning speed made a dash for the lever. He reversed just as the giant hull of the steamer flung down with crushing force.“Fire! murder! help! police!” yelled the frantic fat old man on deck, as his fond hopes vanished with the receding launch.“Stand by!” shouted the captain of the steamer to Tom. “There’s a dozen passengers left yet.”“There’s room with crowding, if you can get them aboard,” reported Tom.“Life preservers, all!” roared the captain. “One more lurch like that, and she’ll split in two! Lower the men passengers.”“No need,” shouted back Tom just then, as a dazzling light rounded the North Sentinel.“The steam tug!” cried Bill.“That will serve us. We’re all right now,” declared the captain. “Get the women passengers ashore.”With a yell just then a great bulky form came shooting over the side of the steamer. It was the fussy old man. Tom barely managed to grasp something floating behind him, or the suction of the passing tug would have drawn him under the swiftly revolving steam screw.“I’m drowned! I’m dead!” bawled the man, half choked with salt water, as Tom pulled him to the deck of the launch, to find that as many as six life preservers encumbered his bulky form.The steam tug had approached theOlivia, running her length as if to discover the real merits of her situation. Preparing to start the launch into the open sea away from the rocks and then to run direct for Brookville, Tom and Bill for a moment were awed into inactivity as a great shout went up.The steamer again lurched to one side. A loud crash sounded above the howling gale, and theOlivialay a shattered wreck on the rocks.
Tom hailed the unmistakable signal of distress from the steamerOliviawith energy and hope.
“I think I understand why we saw no lights,” he remarked. “The steamer must have driven into the breakers beyond what they call the North Sentinel.”
“That must be it,” assented Bill. “Now Tom, get to your lever.”
Bill tackled the wheel with renewed vigor and Tom braced up magically. At all events, he reflected, theOliviahad not yet gone down. They would be in time for a rescue. The heavy wind, the pelting rain, the erratic gyrations of the launch, were as nothing to him now. The thought that he might be able to save precious human lives inspired him with courage.
A second rocket sailed through the mist-laden air a few minutes later. Bill, in high animal spirits, amid his excitement kept shouting out like a schoolboy driving a bicycle.
“Go it! Whoop-la! There’s a dive for you! Beats automobiling!”
“Hurrah!” broke in Tom.
“She’s there,” echoed Bill.
“Yes, theOliviaat last,” cried Tom.
Veering slightly to southeast, the launch came in sight of the bobbing ship’s lights. One, a bulkhead reflector, was quite clear and guiding.
“Go cautiously now, Bill,” warned our hero.
“I’ll give you speed signals,” responded Bill. “One—two, slow up.”
“All right.”
Tom knew from having visited the Garvey Rocks more than once in the past that they were nearing dangerous waters. Somehow, however, he had confidence in his pilot. Bill was daring, and more than once the keel of theBeulahgrazed some obstruction. But Bill shouted back to Tom each time that he knew his route, and would bring about no disaster through recklessness.
They were now so near to the steamer that they could make out her situation quite clearly.
“She’s stove in!” declared Bill. “Her fires are out, and there must be a leak. Look at her now, Tom—she’s rolling.”
The condition of theOliviawas a precarious one—Tom discerned this at a glance. She had fallen over slightly on one side. The lights on deck showed a number of passengers huddled at a slanting bow, clinging to a cable which had been strung from rail to rail, to prevent them from falling or rolling when a particularly heavy billow would cause the once staunch ship to quiver and topple.
Another rocket went up. It was followed by a ringing cheer. The launch, slowing down, came directly into the strong central focus of the bulkhead reflector. Those working about the ship, clinging to this and that as they moved about, paused to stare at the staunch little craft of rescue. The passengers huddled together lost their terror and a babel of excited, hopeful, joyous voices sounded out.
“Oh Tom!—Tom!”
The young wireless operator thrilled with an emotion he could not analyze. In an instant he recognized the voice of Grace Morgan. Could she have been thinking of him, that the recognition was so prompt; or, despite his unusual garb and the clumsy oilcloth cap, did the powerful reflector glow bring out his features in strong relief?
“Ease her!” shouted Bill, and his very soul seemed centered in working the wheel to prevent both collision and retreat.
“Throw them a cable!” roared the trumpet tones of the captain of the steamer.
Tom caught the coiling end of the rope and secured it, allowing a play of a few feet between the two craft.
“Drop the ladder!” came the next order.
“The women first!” shouted one of the steamer officers. “Get back, there!”
There was light enough for Tom to see a portly, fussy old man press close to the rail, vehemently shouting out that he would sue the steamship company if they did not instantly get him to dry land. He uttered a howl of despair as he was ignominiously bundled out of the way.
“I can’t—I won’t, I shall faint!” shrieked a rasping feminine voice, as a staunch sailor was compelled to carry her down the swaying ladder.
She wriggled like an eel as Tom grabbed her and forced her into the cabin of the launch, going instantly into hysterics as she landed on a cushioned seat.
“There are only eight of the ladies,” called down the captain.
“Hold tight, Aunt Bertha,” Tom heard a familiar voice speak steadily.
“Oh, dear, I know I shall fall and be drowned!” wailed the second of the rescued passengers, whom Tom was sure must be the aunt in whose charge Grace had started on the present unlucky voyage.
[image]“YOU BRAVE GIRL!” CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.
[image]
[image]
“YOU BRAVE GIRL!” CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.
“We won’t let you, ma’am,” assured the sailor at the rail. “Be speedy now. There’s more to follow.”
The descent of seven of the ladies was accomplished. Tom had not caught a murmur of protest or fear from the plucky little maiden who had waited her turn till the last.
A shriek loud and ringing went up from the seventh lady, for just as Tom seized her both of them were nearly hurled into the water. A fearful gust of wind had driven the launch with a crash against the hull of the steamer. The same terrific force gave the steamer a lurch, and she threatened to turn turtle. As she righted, although the ladder was flopping about like a whiplash, Grace sprang past the sailor at the rail, slid one-half the length of the ladder, was swung out, and just caught in Tom’s arms as the captain of the steamer roared out in thunder tones:
“Slip the cable, you lubber, or the launch will be crushed!”
“You brave girl!” cried Tom irresistibly.
“Oh, Tom, can I help?” inquired Grace.
“Yes, quiet those in the cabin.”
Bill sounded the bell at the wheel and Tom with lightning speed made a dash for the lever. He reversed just as the giant hull of the steamer flung down with crushing force.
“Fire! murder! help! police!” yelled the frantic fat old man on deck, as his fond hopes vanished with the receding launch.
“Stand by!” shouted the captain of the steamer to Tom. “There’s a dozen passengers left yet.”
“There’s room with crowding, if you can get them aboard,” reported Tom.
“Life preservers, all!” roared the captain. “One more lurch like that, and she’ll split in two! Lower the men passengers.”
“No need,” shouted back Tom just then, as a dazzling light rounded the North Sentinel.
“The steam tug!” cried Bill.
“That will serve us. We’re all right now,” declared the captain. “Get the women passengers ashore.”
With a yell just then a great bulky form came shooting over the side of the steamer. It was the fussy old man. Tom barely managed to grasp something floating behind him, or the suction of the passing tug would have drawn him under the swiftly revolving steam screw.
“I’m drowned! I’m dead!” bawled the man, half choked with salt water, as Tom pulled him to the deck of the launch, to find that as many as six life preservers encumbered his bulky form.
The steam tug had approached theOlivia, running her length as if to discover the real merits of her situation. Preparing to start the launch into the open sea away from the rocks and then to run direct for Brookville, Tom and Bill for a moment were awed into inactivity as a great shout went up.
The steamer again lurched to one side. A loud crash sounded above the howling gale, and theOlivialay a shattered wreck on the rocks.